Tumgik
#brown eyes fem teen
beautifulfaaces · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
Sam Morelos
Facts
July 7, 2005
Filipino American actress
Filmography
Nikki [That 90’s Show: 2023]
Nobody [Forgetting Nobody: 2022]
Appearance
black hair/ brunette
brown eyes
Roleplay
playable: teenager
2 notes · View notes
verstappen-cult · 10 days
Text
# WAVE OF YOU | CL16
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Charles is spending summer in Australia with his friends when he meets a very pretty girl and her dog at the beach.
Pairings: Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader Content Warnings: A little meet-cute, just pure fluff! And Pierre being a menace for like a second.
Gwen’s radio message. . . 💬 : i saw the video and an idea popped into my mind, you can’t blame me for being weak. this is just a little silly meet-cute because your girl can’t stop thinking about surfer!charles. save me surfer!charles, save me !! i’m thinking about turning this into a series, would you like that?
Tumblr media
You never thought you’d be living in Australia in your twenties. You honestly never thought about leaving your hometown to follow your dreams. Yet, here you are, sitting on the sand on a quiet morning, playing with the golden retriever you adopted two weeks ago. She comes running back to you, leaving the tennis ball at your feet and sitting, patiently waiting for you to throw the ball again. 
“You never get tired, uh?” She tilts her head, tongue out and breathing heavily. You throw the ball into the water and she immediately runs back for it. 
You take the opportunity to look around. It’s still a little early so there aren’t many people, a few people walking their dogs or running, a few surfers and a group of girls a few meters away. You notice that they can’t stop looking at the group of boys in the water trying to catch waves. It’s funny, because you used to be exactly like them when you were a teen. 
They’re talking and — despite knowing you shouldn’t — you pay close attention to what they’re saying. 
“Last week he smiled at me, I swear!” One of them says, twirling her hair while still straight ahead. 
“They’re so hot.” You try not to laugh, hiding a smile by turning your head around. 
It’s not the first time you’ve seen the group of boys, but it is the first time that you pay attention to what people actually say about them, and that makes you a little bit curious. 
There are five guys in the water, two of them are sitting on their surfboard talking while the other two chase waves. You notice that the fifth guy is actually getting out of the water, blue surfboard under his right arm as he looks at the dog looking up at him and wagging its tail. Your dog. 
“Daisy!” You call her but she doesn’t move, she just looks at you from her spot next to the man. You get up and start walking towards her when the stranger looks up at you. And you stop breathing for a second, face turning pink as you feel bright, green eyes boring into you. 
You agree with the teenage girls about them being hot because this man is definitely very attractive. He’s wearing a black wetsuit, you notice as he runs his hand through his messy, wet, brown hair. He’s also smiling. At you. 
He crouches to unhook the surfboard’s leash from his ankle, leaving it aside, and pets Daisy behind her ears. She closes her eyes and moves closer to the stranger. Your heart skips a beat when he looks up at you again, still smiling. 
“Hey, Daisy? You wanna play?” He has an accent that makes you weak in the knees. The stranger takes Daisy’s ball from between her paws and throws it a few meters away, and she immediately runs back for it. “She’s cute.” You’re very cute, he thinks.
You smile because you don’t know what else to do, still very much feeling frozen in place. 
“I’m Charles, nice to meet you.” The stranger—Charles reaches out a hand, you look at it for a beat before taking it gently to shake. If you feel sparks flying, nobody needs to know that. 
You swallow, trying to find your voice before the cute guy thinks you’re weird. “I’m Y/N and,” You feel Daisy’s nose nudging at your leg. “this is Daisy.” You say, looking down at her.
Charles crouches back down to take the ball again, this time not breaking eye contact, and throws it into the water. You feel yourself blushing — again !! — under his intense gaze. You also feel your insides burning and going crazy with butterflies. You curse under your breath because what is wrong with you? 
“You come here often?” He cringes after saying that and you’re pretty sure you see a faint blush adorning his cheeks. “I’ve never seen you before.” 
“Oh, I adopted her two weeks ago, so we're pretty new to the beach.” You explain, looking over his shoulder at your little golden playing in the water. You’re gonna have one hell of a time trying to get rid of the salt water and sand of her hair. 
He smiles again and what the hell? He has dimples? 
“You’re not from here, right? I can hear a little accent…” He blurts out, massaging his neck in a nervous manner. 
“I just moved here a few months ago.” You laugh, fidgeting with your fingers. “I can say the same thing about you.”
The guy chuckles, shaking his head. “I’m from Monaco. I’m visiting a friend for the summer.”
“Oh, that’s cool!” When Daisy comes running back, you’re quick to pick up the ball — to have something to do besides looking at his pretty green eyes — and throw it farther just because it’s good that she’s running and having fun, definitely not because you want to keep talking with Charles. 
“What brought you to Australia?” Charles asks, like he's genuinely interested. 
“It’s silly, really.” You break eye contact after what feels like an eternity looking into his eyes. “I just wanted to see more of the world. I’ve been traveling for the past two years but I feel like it’s time to settle down somewhere.” Charles nods along, listening to every word. “I don’t know if Australia is the place for me but,” You shrug. You’ve grown and gained experiences, you’ve traveled to places you never thought you’d visit; you are happy with your life. You want to experience a different kind of thing now. “so far I like it here.”
“That’s awesome!” Charles has traveled the world too, but he doesn’t see himself leaving Monaco and his family. But he understands the desire to see new places and discover new cultures.
“Charlie!” 
You both turn your head around to see the boys he was surfing with coming out of the water. 
“Those are my friends. I’m sorry for whatever they’re going to say.”
You laugh, whispering a ‘don’t worry’ just before you’re joined by the four guys. 
“Oi, who’s this?” A dark-haired guy asks, crouching to pet Daisy. 
“That’s Daisy,” Charles answers before moving to stand beside you. “and this is Y/N.”
The four boys look between you and Charles in silence, then they’re all waving at you.
Charles leans a little closer, and you hold your breath. “That’s Dani,” He points to the same guy who asked about Daisy. Then he points to a curly-haired boy wearing a pair of pink shorts. “that one is Lando and the one next to him is Max.” 
“So, how do you find my boy Charles here?” A guy with French accent teases you. 
“And that’s Pierre. Don’t listen to him.” Charles sends death glares at his friend, who just holds his palms up in surrender and grins. 
“We need to go,” Lando or Max? says, looking at his friend with pity and mouthing a ‘sorry’.
“Nice to meet you, Y/N!” All of them say, making you laugh. You wave at them.
Then, you and Charles are alone again, Daisy lying on the sand in front of you.
“So,” Charles starts, fighting really hard not to look at your lips. He does a very poor job because you notice anyway, and of course you can’t help but wet your lips. Well, you have to do something, you’re probably not gonna see him again. “I have to go. But it was nice chatting with you.”
You reach out, placing your hand on his bicep and squeezing. And God, okay, he’s actually fit, fit. 
“It was nice meeting you, Charlie.”
Charles smirks, winking. Or at least trying to before grabbing his surfboard and walking away, it takes you a great effort to not turn around. 
“Hey, Y/N?” 
You’re just a girl. 
Charles is walking backwards, a bright smile dancing on his lips. 
“Will I be seeing you tomorrow?”
You try not to show how much effect his words have on you. “I don’t know,” You shrug. Playing hard to get now, really? “Come and you’ll see.”
1K notes · View notes
aweina · 5 months
Text
౨ৎ. CHOCOLATE LIPSTICK ( 17﹢) ; mike schmidt
tags fem reader. enemies to ( ? ). mike is mean + angry. 2-3 year age difference. sexual tension. oral fixation. semi-brat taming + 1k words.
Tumblr media
mike was staring at you funny, it made you feel weird — annoyed, actually.
“what?” your voice was harsh, muffled by the sweet frozen yogurt coating your mouth.
he raised a brow at your tone, a little vexed from your sudden attitude. it reminded him of the bratty kid he happened to escort out of a toy store just an hour ago. he’s in a bad mood already, but there was no reason to get mad right now.
“don’t talk with your mouth full.” mike tiredly mumbled. an honest suggestion, but half of what he really wanted to say.
you rolled your eyes at his critiquing words. he always seemed to lecture you about the littlest things. how you’re not as productive during your usual security checks or even that one time he was finding the mall keys during your shared nightly protocols — making sure to make a sly comment and sprinkle in an unneeded suggestion about how untidy your bag was. exactly how an obnoxious parent would.
it was annoying. being treated like a child and especially by someone like mike. so what if he was a few years older? slightly more mature than you, much more responsible, and definitely not hot. just a little bit tho, but you’ll never admit that.
but ninety-percent of the time he pisses you off, and this is one of those times.
you swallowed down the yogurt that melted from your seething irritation, brows furrowed at the snarky comment he had to make about your dining etiquette. it’s a fucking mall food court, not a fine dining restaurant.
“do you always have to be a dick to me?” your words were laced with venom, all the suppressed anger managed to bubble out your throat.
his calloused fingers suddenly stopped twisting on the volume of the two-way radio, usual soft hazel eyes darken to a muted brown, stubbled jaw clenched. mike swallowed back the urge to say a few fighting words at your childish retort.
your tone wasn’t a big deal. well, until now.
his day has already been ruined. parents weren’t so attentive when it came to their bratty children, that meant he had to parent them himself — awkwardly standing until their tantrums fall silent or escorting dozens of children that happen to run off for some ridiculous toy. he didn’t need anymore whining from you, especially about something he’s done without the intention of malice — you were childish, immature.
“i don’t need to hear this right now.” mike was too tired to argue. a heavy sigh escaping his lips, his rough hands brushing away the tired feeling in his eyes. “you’re acting like a kid right now, you know that?”
you swore your blood pressure just went up.
“see that’s what i’m talking about! you treat me like a kid and you have to be a total asshole about it. why?”
passing families and teens curiously looked towards your table, the sudden blast of your agitated voice drawing unneeded attention. just what mike needed.
he turns away from their prying eyes, flustered that he was a victim of your grownup tantrum. mike continues the silent treatment as he listens to your incoherent babbling, colorful words like “old man” and “asshole” passed through his eardrums like a sour tune. the grip of his arm was deadly tight. yet, your pouting made his heart skip a bit. it was adorable, it always has been. but not when it’s accommodated with your high-pitched whines, your brows knitted with all these negative emotions, cheeks redden from breathless insults. the angry look in your face looked so familiar — it was the same look everybody seemed to give him.
all this over a smudge of frozen yogurt on your mouth. he would laugh if he wasn’t at his breaking point.
“fuck, i hate yo – !“ with sudden force, mike grabs you by your chin, the pouring insults latched shut with a firm grip.
the reddish hue on your face that was once from your vexation became brighter from mike’s unusual forcefulness — he has never been this angry with you before. weirdly enough, you don’t hate it.
the chocolate remnants blotched over your cheeks, dribbling from your unwiped mouth, was he pointing this out the whole time?
“watch your mouth.” you didn’t know if he meant the mess you made or your little tantrum session that set him off.
maybe both, you can’t tell anymore.
you both stare at each other for a second, the tension so thick in the air — the invasive looks felt like a blur in the background, or rather, seemingly drawn away by this peculiar exchange. hazy eyes slowly peered down at your mouth, deliciously glazed with chocolate yogurt. it was tooth aching, he could imagine the taste on his tongue. if only he was a little closer, he never had to daydream about this ungodly sight for weeks.
his thumb slowly drags over your pinkish flesh, gathering the sweet residue that coated your quivering lips. he reached over the corners of your mouth, studying every hitch of your breath and the way you nervously fiddle with the plastic spoon. someone so loud, bratty, could be silenced with a single touch.
pushing past your pursed lips and clenched teeth with ease, his sweetened touch swirled all over your taste buds — the subtle hints of sweat somehow tasted sweeter than the chocolate goodness. mike watches you closely, his slacks suddenly feeling tight. you’re letting him do this to you, without a protest or your usual dirty look.
for another second, his fleeting touch brushed against your wet muscle, mesmerized by its softness. the darkness that loomed in his irises vaporized into a soft green, lured by the sight of an obedient mouth. he finally draws away, a string of saliva connecting his cleaned off thumb and your glossy lips. the rigid grip on your chin loosens as mike huffs in mild irritation, mostly out of astonishment from this predicament.
mike stands from his seat, hiding his hard-on with his bunched up security jacket — hand still soaked from your dribbling saliva. awkwardly, he picks up the trash splayed over the table, making sure his car keys were stuffed deep in his pocket.
“i’ll see you tomorrow.” he steadily spoke, seemingly unbothered.
you nodded, mouth still slightly agape.
mike walks off, leaving you with your own muddled thoughts.
out of complete horror, you hover your nimble fingers over your mouth — the taste of his skin still permeates on your tongue. even with how intimate that whole situation was, mike made sure to clean the remnants of frozen yogurt off your face.
the gall to leave you utterly confused, edged by this new side of your usual grumpy coworker. there was a line between guilty attraction and burning hatred towards mike, you were stuck in the middle of it. but your racing mind seemed to linger towards the shadows casting his tired eyes, the focused look on your compiling mouth, the demand in his voice animating your body like a toy. fuck, yeah okay, he was hot.
the ache between your legs seeped arousal through your pants, you thanked your employers that your uniform was black. gosh, it’s been so long since anybody has touched you like that.
you nearly break your skull when your head falls defeatedly on the table — a heavy groan vibrating in your chest.
you don’t know if you could come to work tomorrow.
Tumblr media
© aweina : please do not copy, repost, or modify any of my content.
2K notes · View notes
upsidedownwithsteve · 8 months
Text
Simmer #6
Tumblr media
CH6. Spilled Milk | The Menu [4.3K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.
The diner was busy. 
Too busy. In fact, it was chaotic. An unusual brunch time rush on the hottest Saturday in August. The first in the month and the official marking of your two month birthday at Jim’s Grill. Not that it mattered, no one was able to celebrate it, not even yourself. 
A greyhound and a private coach had pulled into the parking lot within ten minutes of each other, tourists pouring out of them in big families, clusters of hikers, campers and back water town enthusiasts ready to order everything from the menu. Jim had lit up at the sight, the bell above the diner door jingling over and over and over again, before the man looked at Eddie through the hatch and his face fell into a panicked expression. 
“Shit.”
Steve was already smiling until his cheeks ached, his customer service voice ringing out through the din of the crowd as he tried his best to get everyone seated, him and Jonathan pushing tables together to cater for the family that arrived with seven kids in tow. 
Jim was on the phone in his office, barking out orders before they turned into pleas, the garish orange receiver clutched between two hands before he closed his eyes, mouthed a prayer and then pumped his fist in the air. Twenty minutes later, Dustin Henderson was storming through the diner with two other teens trailing behind him, looking far more begrudging about whatever they’d obviously been roped into. 
Hopper handed them aprons and promised, “cash in hand at the end of the night and an extra twenty if you get through this without breaking anything.”
A deal was made and soon, a red headed girl called Max Mayfield was flying between tables on bright green roller skates, bussing tables with a bored expression on her freckled face. Behind her, Jonathan’s little brother Will was delivering trays of drinks, narrowly avoiding Dustin as he brought Eddie’s famous stacked burgers out by the dozen. 
It was chaos. It was too warm, and god, it was so loud. But fuck, the tips were great. Your apron was stuffed with bills and order tickets, your fingertips red from the amount of times you’d caught them between the metal clips you hung them from above Eddie’s station. It was too busy to talk, to chat and flirt quietly in this new way you’d both grown brave enough to do. The boy was frazzled, side by side with Argyle by the grill as the flipped patties and fried eggs and bacon, a new batch of rolls dangerously close to burning in the oven. The timer was screaming, something else was buzzing, the workstations were the messiest you’d ever seen them and there was a puddle of spilled milk by the door. 
“Door! Behind!” You yelled out amongst the noise, eyes wide at the orders sitting by the hatch still to be delivered. Nancy and Robin were taking plates six at a time, hands and arms full, their balance nothing short of impressive. “Eddie, sorry, but table six wanted extra hash browns with their brunch combo not an egg—”
You didn’t get to finish your sentence before Eddie was taking the plate from you and sliding the perfectly fried egg into the trash. He barely looked at you, something you tried not to frown at because his mouth was set in a strained line and there were beads of sweat gathering at curls on his forehead. “Argyle, time on those hash browns?” Eddie barked, eyes still on the burgers he was placing cheddar slices on top of. 
Argyle was scraping crispy potato pieces around the griddle, salt and pepper and some other spices poured on top as he worked at breakneck speed. “Three minutes, chef,” Argyle called back and Eddie grunted in return. 
You felt stupid, standing there aimlessly with a customer's plate in your hand and before you could get out of the way, Eddie was moving you himself. Big, wide hands on the tops of your arms, guiding you out of the path of the door just before Steve burst through it. He narrowly missed the spilled milk. 
“Door!” He yelled a fraction later than he should’ve. Eddie glared at him. “Corner! Fuck, where’s the fucking syrups? Eddie? Ed! Where’s the syrup!”
You watched Eddie squeeze his eyes shut before he groaned, killing the heat on the grill just as Argyle appeared at your side to slide the freshly cooked hash browns onto the plate. You smiled, grateful. “Thank you.”  
“Open your fuckin’ eyes, man! They’re on the shelf!” Eddie was furiously wiping his hands on his stained chef whites, a dish towel tucked into the ties of his apron as he started assembling burger after burger. 
Bun. Sauce. Patty. Cheese. Bacon. More sauce. Lettuce. Pickles. Tomato. Fried egg. Perfect yolk. Crispy onions. More sauce. Bun. 
“What shelf?!” Steve yelled back, the pantry contents rattling as he pushed his way past huge bags of sugar and jars of homemade jam. “Eddie, it’s not fucking there!”
Robin barged in the door, not announcing her arrival to anyone and the edge of it slammed Argyle as he walked past carrying piles of grease filled frying pans. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry dude!” Eddie glared at her. “Door?” She said weakly. 
“Why is everyone in my fuckin’ kitchen!” Eddie yelled and diners closest to the hatch peered in at him, disapproving expressions on their faces as their kids with ketchup smeared chins laughed. “Buckley! What is it?”
“There’s like, seven tables asking for maple syrup. Where is it?”
Everyone groaned, eyes rolling and Eddie threw his hands to the ceiling. “It’s on the fuckin’ shelf, but Harrington is too blind to see them. Christ, Argyle, start getting these burgers out, Harrington fuckin’ move man—”
It all happened a bit too fast, that’s all. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, not really. Just a classic case of spilled milk. No need to cry over it, right? That’s what they said. 
Argyle dumped the pans into the sink with a crash, slipping between you and Eddie’s workstation as he tried to get to the burgers before they went cold. Eddie was pushing past Robin to get to Steve who was still arguing and well, Robin might’ve stepped forward at the same time you stepped back to avoid Argyle. Plateful of hash browns held high, you tried to stop them from falling. You tried not to elbow Argyle in the face and god, you tried really hard not to completely crash into Robin despite the way her shoulder caught yours. 
You stepped back again, someone yelled ‘door!’ and the sound of Max’s roller blades ripped through onto the kitchen tiles, sending everyone into a loud panic. Your foot found the puddle of milk, sneakers slipping through the liquid and the inevitable happened. 
There was an awful crack when your head hit the worktop on the way down. Ass hitting the tiles, a horrible spine numbing pain licking up your back. The bones in your hips tingled with it before tears sprung to your eyes as a searing pain set in everywhere at once. You heard the kitchen go quiet for just a second, a blissful peace before the plate you’d been holding finally joined you on the floor and smashed into a hundred different pieces. Argyle’s perfectly crispy hash browns skittered under the workstation and you heard someone swear. 
Then everyone was clamouring at once, hands hesitated to touch you as you brought your own to the back of your head and held it there. There was a strange kind of heat to it that made you hope it wasn’t blood, but you were too scared to look. Milk seeped into your wrinkled sock, your legs splayed out in front of you like a forgotten doll, but you didn’t feel half as pretty as one. You gazed mournfully at the smashed plate and couldn’t help the way your bottom lip twisted and trembled. God, your head hurt. 
“Oh my god, are you okay?”
“I’m sorry, shit— I’m sorry, I should’ve said I was coming in, right?”
“It’s fine Max, it’s not your fault—”
“How many fingers am I holding up? Can you stand? Hey, who’s the president—?”
“Lil’ Chicago slice got laid out.”
“Everyone move.”
Eddie’s voice rang out the loudest, clear and gruff with an authoritative tone that bordered on scary. Everyone listened, the kitchen and its team quietening down again when they all saw how you winced at the noise. Eddie pushed past Steve, and Robin, dropping down to hunker next to you. His brows were stitched together with concern and he tutted softly at the tear slipping down your cheek. You hadn’t even noticed, but his thumb brushed it away before anyone else could see. 
He murmured your name and it sounded like a question you were supposed to answer, so you hummed, face scrunched up as more sharp needles of pain prickled at the back of your skull. Your hand was still pressed to it, scared to let go as if your whole head would simply roll off of your neck. 
But Eddie’s hand curled around your wrist and he tugged gently, murmuring words of nonsense that were nothing more than soft placations. With a bit of coaxing, you let him take your hand away and you slammed your eyes shut before you could look. No one hissed or gasped, so it seemed safe enough. 
But still, you asked, “there’s no blood, right?”
The boy gave you a soft smile as everyone circled closer to peer at your hand. “Nah,” Eddie told you reassuringly. “No blood, you’ll live.” Then he was cupping your chin in his hand, thumb pressed to the corner of your mouth and his brow wrinkled with more concern. “Can I take a look though?”
You wanted to say no. All this fuss and attention was making you feel too hot, embarrassment from falling starting to roll in with the pain and it mixed in your stomach to create an awfully uncomfortable concoction. Steve and Robin were still gazing down at you, eyes wide with shock and Max looked stricken with guilt, as if she thought her coming into the kitchen unannounced caused this. Argyle was already moving between everyone, sweeping broken pieces of plate and squished food out of the way. 
But you nodded and let Eddie peer at the back of your head. His hands gentle as he turned you this way and that, parting your hair so he could look for any cuts. He whistled at the sight of a bump and ran his thumb over it softly. You winced and he murmured a sorry before squeezed your knee, a comforting thing that Robin raised her brows at. 
“Think you can stand?” Eddie asked. 
You didn’t get a chance to answer, because Hopper was bursting through the doors with a red face and seven ticket orders clutched in his hand. “Why is half my staff on the kitchen fucking floor?” He yelled. “It’s crazy out there! What’s going on?”
You brought your knees to your chest as Steve explained what had happened, gesturing to the puddle of milk, the broken pieces of plate in the trash. Eddie didn’t move, didn’t take his eyes off you, even when you winced in embarrassment and tried to hide your face in your hands. 
You heard Jim sigh and then he was clapping his hands and demanding that Steve and Robin went back to the dining floor. “There’s four tables waitin’ for coffee, never mind food, c’mon! And Max— Jesus, Maxine, take those skates off before someone else ends up with a concussion.”
Argyle was sent back to the grill before Hop patted Eddie on the shoulder and told him to do the same. Eddie screwed up his face, confusion wrinkling his brow. “What? No, Hop, someone’s gotta take her home.”
“Ed—” you started to interrupt, mortified at the idea of causing an upset. 
Hop laughed, not meanly, just amused. “And what? You think you should be the one to take her, Casanova? You’re the only guy I got here that knows how to cook an omelette, you’re not going anywhere Munson.”
Eddie’s ears burned with the quip, cheeks flushed pink and he scowled at his boss, uncaring about the repercussions. But his attention was quickly stolen by you as you made an attempt to move, standing shakily as you protested that you were fine. The boy scoffed, holding your forearms so you could grip his, knuckles white as the shock of it all set in. 
You did feel a little dizzy. 
“She’s not going back out there to take orders,” Eddie told the older man as they both looked at your peaky expression, your glassy eyes. 
“Well, I ain’t got the bodies to get someone to take her home, kid,” Hop shrugged regretfully. “Wayne at the garage?”
“Fishing trip,” Eddie answered sourly. “Here, c’mon, sit down, yeah?” He guided you to the stool by his station and helped you onto it, eyes filled with concern as you clutched the edge of the worktop and closed your eyes. “Should we be callin’ a doctor?” Eddie asked Hop. 
“Don’t you dare,” you managed to bark at him, even though your voice sounded shaky. “I’m fine. I’ll just, I’ll just sit for a bit.”
You couldn’t hear what the two men were whispering about, but embarrassment told you it was most definitely about you. You only looked up when someone set a glass of water in front of you and you smiled in thanks at Argyle before he squeezed your shoulder and went back to flipping pancakes. 
“Drink that, please,” Eddie mumbled softly as he appeared by your side. Hopper had left, standing awkwardly in the middle of the diner instead of his office as he wrote down orders listed off by a frantic Nancy. “Okay, we’ve come to an agreement.”
You snorted into your glass. “We have?” You asked as you wiped at your lips. 
“Hop’s gonna take over and I’ll drive you home when this place finally calms down. Or we run out of eggs, whatever comes first.”
You rolled your eyes but the action was fond, just like the smile on your lips. You could barely bring yourself to look up at the boy for fear of giving too much away in your gaze, but when you did, you saw the same softness in Eddie’s own expression. “You don’t have to do that,” you told him. “I’ll just sit for a bit and then walk home.”
Eddie snorted and began chopping slices of tomatoes at a speed your eyes could barely keep up with. “No you fuckin’ won’t,” he told you. “Part of this agreement was that you park your cute ass where I can see you. No passing out in the walk-in, alright?”
You tried not to dwell on the compliment too much. Weeks had passed since the night you’d gotten high with the boy, too close on his bed, too close to doing something that was interrupted. You’d been back to the Munson trailer since, but you spent evenings on the sofa with both Eddie and Wayne, yelling at Alex Trebek and trying out new dishes that Eddie created for late nice dinners. No other attempt at a kiss - if that’s what had been about to happen. No other attempt at asking for a date - if that’s what the boy had been about to say. 
“Are there any other conditions to this agreement?” You asked, wincing when Argyle dropped a pot into the sink. “Or did you just sell my soul to Jim without me knowing?”
Eddie laughed as he threw some mushroom halves onto the grill, dropping in some butter until they sizzled. “Sweetheart, c’mon now, you did that yourself when you agreed to work in his hellhole.” Eddie moved away just for a few seconds, long enough to return with a new glass of ice water that he replaced your empty one with. “But he did say you’re not allowed to sue him.”
You smiled, laughing weakly because your head still throbbed and the diner was too loud but Eddie Munson was grinning at you with his dimples on show and a stray curl falling into his big, brown eyes. 
“Damn,” you tried to joke. “There goes my plan.”
—————
You’d been slumped on the stool for the best part of two hours before someone roused you from your semi sleeping state. Heels of your hands pressed to your closed eyes, the sounds of the diner sounding further and further away as you let yourself be lulled into haze by the sounds of Eddie and Argyle talking over the sizzle of the grill, the popping of bacon, the whir of a whisk. 
Then, a palm on your back, wide and warm. You startled only slightly, sitting up and reappearing from behind your hands to see a bowl of soup being slid in front of you. A deep red, flecked with cracked black pepper and smelling like tomato and basil. There was a swirl of some cream in the centre, artfully placed, and a spoon was dipped into the middle of it. 
“Eat up,” Eddie instructed softly. “Then I can try ‘n’ find you some Advil or somethin’, Nancy probably got some stashed somewhere.”
You eyed the soup with a sudden greed, mouth watering at the aroma, your fingers finding the spoon. “You didn’t even ask if I was hungry,” you gently scolded the boy. 
Eddie knew what it meant. ‘Thank you. You shouldn’t have.’
“Don’t start,” he grumbled back, already going back to cracking more eggs into a bowl. Only six this time, which meant service must’ve been slowing. “You’ve had a coffee and half a slice of toast all day, eat your fuckin’ soup.”
You knew what that meant too. ‘You’re welcome. Please eat, so I stop worrying.’
So you ate and Eddie made omelettes, folding each so meticulously that you couldn’t help but watch. Butter on top, chives diced, fresh tomato and Italian ham in the middle. He knew you were staring, he always did. But now he smiled instead of scowled, let his gaze flicker to you every time he put his knife down and he nodded appreciatively when your spoon scraped the last of the soup from the bowl.
“Good?” He asked like always, sliding the omelette dishes out of the hatch for Steve to deliver to the waiting tables.
Jim was back in the office and the younger kids were long gone, sent home with leftover doughnuts from the pastry cabinet and an extra twenty in each of their back pockets. Regular slowness has resumed. Only Mr Creel sat at the bar, under the television as always, nursing a lukewarm cup of coffee he wouldn’t let Jonathan refill. There was a family at one table, an older couple at another, and three teens sharing a plate of fries in a booth at the back. 
You nodded, humming. “So good, Eddie. Best soup I’ve had.”
Eddie grinned and tried to hide it, bashful and pink in the face at your praise. There was a lull in the kitchen as Argyle disappeared into the walk-in and for the first time that day, there was nothing on the grills in danger of burning. So the boy cleared his station and leant his elbows on it, so close to you that you could let your hand touch his, if you’d felt brave enough. 
“How’s the head?” 
You made a face at the reminder, reaching back to gingerly feel at the small lump there, tender and embarrassing. “It’s fine,” you told him. “Just another injury for the collection.”
Eddie snorted, knowing about your bumps and bruises you’d gathered working in the diner. You were insistent someone was moving table eight a few inches to the right each day, just to fuck with you and your hip. “Gonna have to keep you in a bubble.”
You smiled, “can’t feed me in a bubble, Munson.”
Another grin from Eddie, shy and pretty and so incredibly genuine. The boy that had scowled at you from the minute you’d appeared now couldn’t hide how happy you seemed to make him. Pink cheeks and dimples, a shine to his eyes that made your knees a little weak and you wanted to tell him then, right there, kiss me please. 
Kiss me without smoke between us, kiss me without having an excuse to be close. Kiss me ‘cause you want to. 
“Yeah, yeah you’re right, that seems— that would be, uh, less than ideal,” Eddie coughed, suddenly nervous. He straightened up and took his hands away from the counter, away from any ideas you had about holding them in your own. “I could, uh, I could - y’know - ask you if you wanted to grab dinner later, instead.”
You sucked in a breath, eyes wide. You didn’t say anything, you just blinked and your silence urged Eddie to fill it, so he rambled on further, voice coming out rushed and a little rough. “Like, I mean, so I can make sure, you know… you eat. God. And you don’t hit your head again, ‘cause you could totally have a concussion and that would su—”
“Eddie?” You interrupted, heart beating too fast, your chest too tight. It felt like it was ready to crack in two, ready to bloom. Excitement was caught in your throat, maybe hope. “Are you asking me on a date?”
The boy faltered and then smiled, a dopey, lopsided thing that you were sure was the most endearing sight you’d ever come across. Those cheeks went pink again and suddenly he was the furthest thing from the grumpy line cook that grunted his greetings to everyone. But maybe, you guessed, he just didn’t do that to you. 
“I’m definitely trying to, yeah.” Eddie grinned then, only once he saw your smile too. 
Giddy, feeling like a schoolgirl with her first crush, you squinted at him, eyes crinkling in the corners with a new type of joy. You wanted to laugh at his attempt, his shyness for a change instead of your own but you couldn’t keep it together. You were bursting at the seams, chest splintering as the butterflies roared. You felt breathless, you felt warm, you felt like you could look at yourself in the mirrored edge of a frying pan and watch yourself glitter. 
“I’d love to,” you told him, soft, quiet, happy. 
The boy lazed back against the worktop, the stainless steel between you littered with spilled sugar and the lonely top of a carrot. He played with the edge of his dish towel that was tucked into the front of his apron, narrowed his eyes at you comically and tried to contain his own grin. He was beaming. 
“You’re not just saying that ‘cause you’re concussed, right?”
You laughed, a bright, sharp sound and you shook your head. “I’m not concussed.” You hummed, happy. “And even if I was, I’d still wanna go on a date with you.”
Eddie looked brighter than the sun. 
—————
That evening, Eddie picked you up outside your apartment with freshly washed curls and a shirt that didn’t have any rips in it. 
His boots were clean and his jeans weren’t creased and you’d have said something about it all if you weren’t as nervous as he looked. With what appeared to be a permanent flush on his cheeks, he hopped out the van as he saw you lock up, jogging round the front so he could open the door for you. 
“You look nice,” he murmured as he helped you in, his hand holding yours, his gaze unable to stop from wandering over all the bare thigh your dress showed off. 
A summery thing, cherry red with a hem that erred on the side of almost too short, with short sleeves and a pretty frilled neckline. It was lower than your uniform, showing off more skin and cleavage than he’d ever seen before. You’d changed seven times between getting out of the shower and watching the window for Eddie’s van, throwing your rejected outfits on your bedroom floor as you stood in your pyjama shirt, wondering if it was far too presumptuous to change into your best lace underwear. 
The butterflies inside your ribcage were rattling. 
“Thank you,” you answered politely and you let yourself look at him too, like you were allowed to now. He still had the rings he wore outside of the kitchen, a plain black T-shirt that smelled like he always did, like lemongrass and freshly spritzed cologne. “You look nice too.”
He went pink at your words and duked his chin to hide his smile. And when he got back into the driver's seat, you looked at him expectantly, nervously. 
“So, uh, there’s only really one place to go for food in this town,” Eddie cleared his throat awkwardly and he smiled, nose scrunched. “And rumour has it, the chef is out on a hot date…”
You laughed, tension broken for a second or two and you hummed, nodding. “Hot date, huh?”
Eddie nodded furiously, letting his eyes dip to look over your bare legs, the short hem of your dress, scarlet against your skin. He looked bravely, not trying to hide it the way he used to. “The hottest,” he confirmed. 
“Where are you taking me then?” you asked softly, leaning your cheek against the seat. It was dangerous looking at him like this, like you wanted him, like you were over trying to hide it. Your workplace crush had bloomed into something else, something more and it made your chest ache.
“Wayne’s not home,” Eddie replied just as soft, just as quiet. His gaze kept falling to your mouth, the way it turned up in the corners. “I have it on good authority that the food at Casa Munson is top tier.”
It made your stomach flip, the idea of being alone with the boy. It barely happened, a rarity, really. The butterflies in your stomach were pushing at your bones, gnawing to get out. You were dizzy with it. 
“Yeah?” you smiled at him, putting Eddie’s own nerves at ease. “Think you could get us a table?”
2K notes · View notes
trashmouth-richie · 8 days
Text
this comes from @serasvictoria with this ask the prompt words were: pillow, caught, crush
Tumblr media
18+ no minors, angst leading to smut, vulgar, eddie talks about his dick and steve’s 😌
2.1k // eddie x fem reader
your ex hears you’ve moved on; is he ready to let you go?
send me a prompt!
“Don’t be a dumbass.” 
Ringed hands were folded together, glistening from the makeshift dramatic lighting in Gareth’s basement. 
In the summer, Hellfire moved locations from one member's place to another, rotating every Friday to a different place. A new aroma to tickle one’s nostrils upon entering whichever home was the designated spot for the evening, to host Hawkins very own hell bound teens. 
Some homes were kept nicer than others, while Eddie’s trailer smelled like stale cigarettes and bong water, the Sinclair’s living room was pristine with updated furniture, smelling of warm vanilla and the smell of dinner still lingering in the air. 
Gareth takes another gulp of Mountain Dew, wiping the lime colored beverage from his lips. Belching on the spot. 
“Why would I lie about that?” 
Eddie shifts in the folding chair leaning forward— the chain from his waist clinking on the metal, “whatever man, don’t fuck with me.” 
Gareth grins, hands up in surrender, “listen dude, I’m just telling you what we saw,  no need to shoot the messenger.”
What Gareth and Jeff had seen weighed heavy on their minds. They had even contemplated on keeping it secret. The two couldn’t decide if Eddie should know or if it would hurt him— in the end Gareth opened his big mouth and blurted it out, in the most repugnant way imaginable. 
The painted tin container used to hold dice was crushed under the weight of Eddie’s fist as he hammered it onto the table. 
Jeff shook his head, sucking in a breath between his braced teeth, looking away from the soon to be manic Munson. 
Eddie’s temper ran hot when it came to one thing—and one thing only, you. 
Raking his fingers through his scalp, he kicks the back of his chair upon standing, ragged breaths in and out, eyes to the ceiling. You still had a hold on him, it had been months—and the only one who seemed to not be able to move on was him. 
He chuckled, pinching the inner corner of his eyes and shaking his head, “one of you take over as DM, I gotta go.” 
Bounding up the stairs before he could hear any bitching from his two longest standing friends, the carpeted steps squished under his quickened boot steps. Stealing a cookie from an iridescent colored decorative plate on the kitchen counter, Eddie stomped out the front door and to the paved driveway, starting his van with a flick of his wrist, pedal to the floor as he reversed onto the street, running over flower beds in his wake.
The daffodil warmth of the sun was high in the sky, a small stitch of wind blew the blades of grass gently, feathering the soft pages of your book every so often. 
It was a perfect summer day as you laid out on your driveway, ass parked in a tiny kiddie pool from your youth, blue in color, the flimsy plastic circle was filled with cool water straight from the hose. 
A few shots of spiced whiskey danced on your tongue and tangoed with the carbonated bubbles of the mixed in Coke, fizzing with each slurp from your straw, you don’t have a care in the world. 
Admiring your freshly painted nails in the pastel bubble gum shade he had picked out— it was a stark contrast to the ruby reds you had been accustomed to— but those days were long gone, and things were finally starting to look up for you. 
It had been four months since Eddie broke things off, claiming he needed ‘space to find himself’ and although you spent a majority of that time wallowing in ice cream containers and mopping up tears when you saw a brown set of curls, or heard the jingle of a chain wallet— you moved on. 
He wasn’t from Hawkins. Didn’t know of Eddie at all, and you preferred to keep it that way. You were never ashamed of the boy you loved for so many years, the only embarrassment you felt was the night he ended things like someone would end a call after placing an order for pizza. 
Like it meant nothing to him, like you meant nothing to him. But that was then, and you were happier now.
So when you looked up to see Gareth’s wide eyes staring in shock was not at all how you imagined your date would go. You had been caught red handed by his best friends, and you knew it was only a matter of time before he found out. 
Toes twirling in the water you bobbed your head along to the music playing on the portable radio, sunglasses perched on your nose— not a single care in the world. 
Until the music turned to something more familiar.. the screech of guitars and aggressive tempos, you could practically feel the warmth leave your skin as the dark cloud of Eddie’s van cast its shadow on your skin, parked in your driveway like he belonged here. 
By the way he tore around the corner and through the stop sign— you knew he was pissed. The clunk of his rings scraped against the paint as he reached through the window to open the door—still broken. 
“I don’t smoke anymore Munson, but if you’re offering freeb—”
“Who is he?” he interjected, in no mood for your joking tone. 
Sucking your drink until the ice clinks together at the bottom—whiskey making you ballsier than you ever had been—you finally answer, “Who is who?” 
He crosses his arms, trying to stay calm, although all he wanted to do was scream, “the guy, cmon princess, don't play dumb with me.” 
Staring at him you can’t believe the audacity of the boy standing in front of you, coming here, demanding to know what’s going on in your life when he’s the one who practically skipped on his way out of it. 
instead of stomping around and causing you a scene, you simply ignore him, “you’re in the way.” 
“Huh?” 
Pointing with a lazy finger to the sky you watch as his eyes follow, “don’t tell me you came here to bitch me out, you’re wasting your time.”
He leans in over your body so close that you can see the chocolate color of his eyes, eyes that you'd lose count of the times you’d stare into them. 
“I’m not leaving until you tell me who he is.” 
“Okay.” You say nonchalantly, unbothered. 
“Okay?”
“Yeah go ahead, stay. ‘s long as you want,” you push yourself up from the pool, standing in a string bikini that matched your nails, “I’ll be the bigger person here, and I’ll leave.” 
Water dripped down your thighs as you walked to the front porch and pushed the door open, ready to slam it shut and twist the lock upon entry—but a dark boot prevents your dismissal.
Rolling your eyes you try to kick his knee to get him to move but he wouldn’t budge, and you huff in annoyance. 
“Pretty sure this is harassment.” 
You ignore the way he walks in your house like he knew his way around, even though he did, your house was a second home to him for years.
Shutting the door with dramatic flair, Eddie leans into your space, inches from your nose, “just answer my question sweetheart— and I’ll be on my happy little way.” 
“You’re deranged if you think I’m telling you anything.”
He cocks his head and laughs like a jerk, mocking you.
“Thata more than likely, but I know better than anyone,” his eyes undress you, fingernails skating across your thighs, “how much you like it.”
You turn and shout over your shoulder, “go home Eddie— I’m not in the mood for this!” 
He barrels around you, demanding your attention. 
“Aww you’re not in the mood?” his voice dipped to a gravelly bite of anger as he put his hand over his heart, “my sincerest apologies to your feelings baby…but I somehow don’t give a fuck about your little feelings when I find out from Gareth that you were sucking some guy’s dick in the Starcourt parking lot.” 
Your face heats in embarrassment and Eddie’s eyes are glassy, coated with pain. You never wanted to hurt him, never wanted him to look at you the way he is right now. 
“Ed—” 
He smirks.
“I think it’s cute…honestly, still doing the same shit you did with me…” he moves to brush your cheek with his thumb, “I’m flattered.”
“Get out,” you bite back, making to shove him to the door but you’re no match for him. 
“D’dya swallow for him like you did for me?” 
“Get..” 
“He bigger than me?” 
“…out!” your shoves are fruitless against his broad shoulders.
“Last I checked Harrington was the only one who had me beat… unless you’re fucking him too.”
The slap startled him, but he knew he deserved it. The torment in your eyes was fueled by his words and he fucking hated himself for making you feel that way. 
He was hurting too, body shaking with rage and swallowing tears the whole drive here. But, when your tears fell on the apples of your cheeks— all his pain turned to gloom. 
“I’m sorry— I— That was a dick thing to say.” 
“Do you think getting over you was easy for me?”
“I don’t know.” 
“It wasn’t.. and truthfully I don’t think I am yet, but what fucking choice did I have?!”
“Babe—.” 
“I loved you, Eddie… I still fucking love you. Why isn’t that—”
His large hands clutch your cheeks, warm lips press into yours with a magnetic force you had forgotten about. Eddie’s tongue tasted like the tobacco spice of a camel, and a subtle hint of mint, and you devoured it like you were starved. 
He whispers and groans how he was so stupid, a real dumb mother fucker, and that he never should have ended it. 
Accepting his apology—for now—you pull him towards the couch, heels rocking on the carpet until they hit firm on the plush sectional, still lip locked with the man you swore, that you hated to your friends but your pillow heard a different plea ever since he broke your heart.
His arms wrap around your waist, fingers daintily pulling the string from your bikini bottoms until the soft fabric hits the floor.  His Hellfire shirt joins them before you both collapse into one another on the cushions, Eddie’s hair draped into your face hiding you both away from consequences and the reality of bad decisions. 
He breaks away from your lips to lick up the slope of your neck, and your head angles back in ecstasy. His body temperature was like fire against your skin, curling your legs around his back you couldn’t get enough of him. 
“So fuckin’ beautiful,” Eddie grooaned, grinding into your naked cunt, his tongue kitten licking around your neck, working his signature hickey into your skin, “my angel.”
You moan feather light in his ear, fingers twisted into his curls. His hand works down your front, sliding between your slick folds with skills you swore only he possessed. 
He played your body like a guitar, knew how to tune you up, the proper way to hold you. A true expert of his craft— your pretty little noises would harmonize from the simple touch of his fingers, your sweet cunt clinching onto him like vice. 
“Missed that sound,” he chuckled, his bangs pushed up from the angle on your neck as you came undone, “so pretty like this… drunk on how I’m making you feel.” 
Your eyes were pinched shut, chest heaving from the breath shattering orgasm you haven’t had since you got dumped by him. Nobody came close to the way Eddie could do it.
Kissing him square on the mouth, you twist your tongue with his, massaging them together as if a flame could spark from the pink wet muscles.
Intimacy with Eddie felt like home, like a warm blanket straight from the dryer when you were freezing. A cup of soup to soothe an itchy throat. 
He melted into you, collecting each gasp you choked out with a kiss from his lips, doing a poor job of hiding the smirk on his face when your breath was stolen from his pistoning hips. 
New— but entirely the same, your bodies fell back into each other like no time had passed and he made up for what was lost, twice. Each time your cries rang out like music to his ears— his favorite song. 
You slept now, adjusting to his arm wrapped around you, a kiss to your forehead, and a new plea in your pillowcase— for Eddie to stay, forever. 
467 notes · View notes
slaybestieslay946 · 2 months
Note
luke castellan x fem!reader in the future as parents 🥺
omg i love this idea sm!
word count: 700
pairing: Luke Castellan x reader
warnings: None!
MASTERLIST
-Perfect
Saturday mornings in the Castellan household were hectic to say the least. But that wasn’t surprising, considering the fact you had a house of two kids, a dog, and an adorably idiotic husband. 
And while you usually loved it, sometimes it could be pretty exhausting.
“Babe?” You called out, striding through the house, a pram in one hand and a packed lunch in the other. 
“Yeah, in here honey!” Luke replied from the living room, laughing slightly at something. 
You walked in to see him sat on the couch, bouncing your baby daughter on his knee while the girl laughed with glee. 
Normally, you’d sit down beside him to coo at your daughter and all her little facial expressions. But this morning you had things to attend to, such as laundry, taking your son to soccer practice, grocery shopping. You didn’t have time for distractions. 
“Did you wake up James this morning?” 
“I thought you were doing it, and I was handling Violet?” He replied, perplexed. 
“No,” You sighed, exasperated. “That was last week. You’re on wake up duty, remember?” 
It was then that it appeared to click in his head, and he quickly returned the girl back to her cot, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead before rushing out the room, calling out frantic apologies to you on the way. 
You’d been late to James’ soccer practice because of it, and he’s missed out on collecting his player of the match award. He’d been understandably upset, and it had caused some tension in the house for the past week. 
You weren’t angry with Luke per se. Irritated was probably more accurate. He’d apologised profusely to both you and James, and the boy had gotten over it when his dad took him out for pancakes the next day. 
As for you, he hadn’t yet delivered his grand gesture to atone, so you were still waiting on that. One thing you did love about your husband, is that he always made it up to you, no matter what mistake he made. 
And make it up, he did. 
The next Saturday you woke up without the usual ring of your alarm, and instead you found yourself waking naturally out of a lazy dream. The morning sun cast its rays over your face, warming you slightly as you smiled, rolling over to face your husband. Except he wasn’t there. 
Immediately you were confused, sitting up in bed and glancing at the clock. It was 10 o’clock. You were so late. 
You cursed quietly, practically leaping out of bed and pulling on the nearest pair of trousers you could find. 
You were in such a frantic state that you didn’t even notice Luke entering the room until he called out to you. 
“Honey, please, get back into bed.” 
“What! We’re late! Oh god, James is gonna be so upset, he’s missed all of soccer!” You exclaimed, turning to face him, only to see him holding a tray full of food. 
“What’s that?” 
“Breakfast. Please, just get back in bed, I’ll explain.” He said, a sheepish smile on his face as he herded you back into bed. 
You followed, willing to hear him out, especially when he was offering you pastries and coffee. 
“Is everything-?” 
“It’s all sorted,” He said, cutting you off, “I took James to soccer, and then he’s going to Leon’s for a playdate. I’m really sorry for last week, you let me get away with so much, and you work so hard, so I thought I’d let you have a lie in, and bring you breakfast.” 
You were speechless, staring directly into his chocolate brown eyes. 
“Are you happy? Sorry for not telling you, I wanted it to be a nice surprise.” 
Then you snapped out of your daze, grabbing his face and kissing him hard, before pulling back to giggle at his blushing face. Sometimes he was still like the awkward teen you had met all those years ago. 
“It was a great surprise. I really appreciate it.” 
You grabbed a croissant from the tray, and quickly began to sate you hunger, grinning the whole time as you tried to figure how you managed to get so lucky to call this man your husband, the father of your children. 
It really was perfect. 
443 notes · View notes
sunflowersteves · 2 years
Text
family video || e.m.
pairing || eddie munson x fem!reader
summary || robin and steve were able to snag eddie munson a job at Family Video and it just so happens that the person of his dreams would be a regular customer.
author’s notes || i refuse to believe vol 2 just happened so here’s a fluffy fic where eddie is most certainly alive
warnings || season 4 vol 2 spoilers, fluff
masterlist
Tumblr media
“Does it always feel this weird?”
Robin tapped her finger on the table, bored out of her mind. “Does what feel weird?”
Eddie shrugged, “I don’t know, maybe the fact that we saved the world a week ago from a monster-psychopath that tried to open four portals to another dimension in the middle of Hawkins and everything is just…Normal?”
Steve grunted while continuing to shelve the movies onto the small cases, “after the four times you save the world,” he sighed, “you get used to it.” 
Eddie could only groan, feeling like he was slightly going insane. After the entire town was out to get him for being a ‘freak’ and accusing him of starting a cult for Chrissy’s murder, he’s not sure he could move on. 
The government tried its best at covering everything up, immediately giving Eddie an alibi and insisting he was innocent. The Goverment also made sure that Chrissy’s death had been a closed case, giving some excuse about drugs and her abusive mom being the culprit. Jason was then put under investigation as a suspect for her murder, just so the accusations could be muddled easier. After a couple of weeks of investigating, Jason was arrested for attacking Lucas and Erica.
Eddie would still sometimes get looks from neighbors and people in Hawkins, but for the most part, he was left alone. No one really wanted to confront him after everything that had happened. 
Robin and Steve luckily were able to beg Keith for Eddie to get a job. They had to practically be on their hands and knees. Eddie was grateful, though. It was a distraction where he could fuck around with his friends and not worry about his problems.
“Great, love to see it.” Robin just snickered at Eddie before immediately receiving a glare.
"How are you so unaffected by this?" Eddie started to fiddle with his rings.
Robin shrugged, "What, Eddie, you want credit or something?" Before he could make a snarky comment back, their conversation cut off by the sound of the ringing bell on top of the door. 
“Welcome to Family Video—” Eddie’s breath left his lungs when he looked up from the computer. Oh, wow, oh shit—
You stood there with a genuine smile on your face, elbows leaning on the counter, while looking at the metalhead in front of you. You were talking to him, and he, for sure, had no idea what the fuck you were saying. 
He just had the wind knocked out of him, and all he wanted to do was stare at your perfect—beautiful—lovely face. The curve of your nose, the way your tongue clicked against your teeth, your eyes staring right back at his—yeah, he was totally fucked. 
“Hey, dingus, she asked you a question.” Robin had her eyebrow raised at the metalhead in front of him. He snapped out of his daze, brown doe eyes wide as he tried to recall what you had said. 
“I–Um–” Robin couldn’t help but have an amusing look on her face. The Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson was nervous? He was normally the utmost confident one by shouting and yelling about everything and anything. But here he was, completely and utterly speechless. 
“I was just wondering if you had a copy of Teen Wolf. Sorry, I just couldn’t find it on the shelves when I came yesterday.”
He swallowed. “Yeah, I–um–can show you.” He led the way towards the back of the video store and picked out the exact copy for you. He couldn’t help but feel hot—sweaty and sticky. Was it hot in here? Did Steve forget to turn on the AC?
“Here.” He handed you the copy, but not before your fingers brushed against each other. He could feel his own heart pounding against his ears. You were soft—so so soft. The tingling sensation never left while you smiled brightly at him.
God, you were just so beautiful. He hoped you would come to see him every single day of his entire life. 
“See you around, Munson.”
He deadpanned. You knew his name?
~~
The next time that you came back to the video store was three days from when he had first met. And you bet, Eddie definitely counted each passing minute that you didn’t return the VHS. But he knew that you had to. You just did.
It was another very boring day with Steve and Robin, not much traffic since the weekend was over. He was currently sketching in his book and trying very hard to come up with a new story for the campaign on Friday. 
He heard the bell to the door ring but didn’t bother to look up. He figured that if they needed anything, they would ask him or Robin for help. He was still sketching, his pencil making light marks on the sheets of paper.
“What are you up to, Munson?” 
His heart immediately burst. You. You were here. You were standing right in front of him with a slight teasing gleam in your eyes. Your head was cocked slightly to the side, and your smile was so completely infectious. 
“Oh, it’s just– it’s just for my club that’s this Friday.” 
You blinked, eyelashes falling perfectly onto your face. “Hellfire club? Aren’t you the president?”
Oh. Oh. You knew of the hellfire club? He knew that you weren’t a part of the popular crowd, but he didn’t realize you were into nerdy stuff either.
He was floored, absolutely floored. “You know of my club?” 
You propped your elbows up onto the counter, trying to get a better look at his sketching. “Yeah, my little brother loves D&D, so I’ve played it quite a few times.”
He licks his lips, eyes darting slightly nervously.  “Yeah?” 
“Yeah.” He sees that you still had Teen Wolf in your hands, and it was leaning against the side of your hip. Right, yeah, work. He has stupid work to do. 
“Here, I can check that back in if you want.” He reaches for the movie, and your eyes widen slightly. Oh, yeah. The movie that you had rented. To be honest, you had forgotten about it. 
You hand it back to him and watch as his eyes scan for your name on the computer. He then types a little on the computer, which you definitely took advantage of by looking at his hands. And oh, wow, his hands. They weren’t perfectly manicured or anything, but the rings that adorned his fingers definitely sprouted butterflies in your stomach.
He turned to you, smiling, “there. you’re all set.” You give him one right back and almost turn to leave. 
“Hey, what if you came to our club?” He leaned just a bit closer towards you.
“What?”
“This Friday at 6:30. Our club meets in Ms. Hank's classroom.” 
You look down at the fake wooden table for just a second as if you’re contemplating. In reality, you were trying to hide that bubbling feeling inside you as he stared at you with such intensity. 
“I might just take you up on that offer.” Before he could even react, you gave a quick kiss on his cheek. His mouth popped open in surprise, he could hear Robin and Steve gasp in the background.
But you had that cheeky smile on your face. Your eyes sparkled once more as you stared at his startled face. You let out a consent sigh before turning around and leaving the store. All he could do was beam. 
“See you around, Munson.”
13K notes · View notes
mypimpademia · 9 months
Text
— The Teacher (pt. 2)
Single dad! Gojo x Fem! Preschool teacher! Reader
Synopsis: Little Megumi wonders if you’re his new mom, and Gojo finds himself wondering the same thing.
TW: None
Note: click/tap here for part 1! or Click/tap here for part 3! I forgot to mention it in the first part, but ig it was kinda implied, Gojo is 29 in this not a teen like he was in canon. Gojo is also very briefly implied to get around
⇶ Satoru stuck to his promise of taking you out
⇶ He left Megumi with Utahime for the night, and made sure that everything was perfect for you
⇶ Truthfully, he went a little overboard out of his own anxiety
⇶ Booked reservations for one of the nicest restaurants in town, deep cleaned his house (just in case), got his already clean car detailed, bought a new suit despite having many hardly-worn ones in his closet, stalked your socials for hints at what you might like, and more that he’d be far too embarrassed to ever admit to
⇶ Satoru picked you up from your house at 6 pm, knocking on your door with a giant bouquet of flowers in hand
“You look incredible.”
Those were the only words Satoru could come up with when he saw you.
He always thinks you look incredible, but seeing you all dressed up outside of your usual work attire was a nice change of pace, and you looked effortlessly beautiful.
“Thank you, Toru,” you beamed. “You look pretty,” you told him, scanning over his tall figure, clad in a deep blue suit.
‘Toru’, ‘pretty’. He nearly passed out on your porch.
Satoru smiled, clearing his throat in an effort to gather his bearings as he fought back the deep blush that was crawling up his face.
“For you, mon chéri,” he said, in a corny fake French accent, presenting the large bouquet of flowers to you.
They were neatly wrapped in a brown paper, and tied off with a white bow. From just the look of it, you could tell they were expensive.
“These are my favorite,” you gasped, taking them from him. “How’d you know?”
He stalked your instagram and found a post from a year ago where you said you loved them.
“Lucky guess,” Satoru smiled. “Y’ready to go?”
��� He led you to his shiny black sports car, opening up the door for you to get in
⇶ It even smelled expensive, and the fresh scent of car shampoo was still lingering. You could tell he had it cleaned just for this, but didn’t say anything
⇶ When you got to the restaurant, out of place was an understatement for how you felt
⇶ You were just happy you decided to dress nicer than you had originally planned
⇶ Looking around, the restaurant was beautifully decorated, and the people dining were dressed just as beautiful
⇶ The more time you spent with Satoru, the more that you realized you knew next to nothing about him
⇶ Where does he get all this money from? What does he do for a living? Who is he, really? And what’s up with the sunglasses?
⇶ You will admit, the mystery only made him all the more attractive, but you had a newfound determination to peel back his layers
⇶ But your first date might not be the best time for that, so you were willing to let things unfold naturally for now
⇶ Satoru insisted that you ordered whatever you want off the menu because he was paying, and ignored your protests
⇶ You hopped around different topics of conversation throughout dinner, and you did eventually make it to the subject of work
⇶ Satoru asked you what exactly made you want to teach preschool, or teach at all, and watched your eyes light up
⇶ Teaching was undoubtably a job you need to have a passion for, and you had more than enough passion for it
⇶ You told him that you’ve always had an interest in teaching, and loved kids and thought they were precious, sacred even, and that their early years are the best part to watch and be a part of
⇶ Satoru’s heart was getting ready to leap out of his chest just watching you talk about something you love so much
‘She’d make a great mom for Megs…’
⇶ The thought surprised even him, Satoru wasn’t sure if it was genuine or intrusive, but it had him glancing at your features and around him to make sure he hadn’t accidentally said it aloud
⇶ He told you that all the kids were lucky to have you, and that seeing you take care of Megumi and all those kids with ease made him feel like his worries from adopting were pointless
⇶ He glazed over the adoption part so easily, you almost missed it
⇶ Sure, you were more than well aware that Satoru was a single father, and when you saw that his last name was different from Megumi’s, you just assumed it was his mothers last name
“It is his mothers last name, but he’s not at all my biological kid. I adopted him from… a friend.”
⇶ You had removed a layer from Satoru, only to find how thin it was in comparison to the amount he had left
⇶ The revelation answered some of the questions you had, and left you with even more at the same time
⇶ Just based on the hesitation he showed, you knew better than to press any further, and changed the subject
⇶ The rest of dinner went smoothly, and you and Satoru once again went back and forth about the bill before he was calling the waiter back to take his card
⇶ On the drive back, Satoru asked if you wanted to see Megumi since Utahime’s house was in the same direction as yours
⇶ You said yes, because of course you wanted to see Megumi, and because it was getting harder and harder for you to say no to Satoru
⇶ When you arrived at Utahime’s, Megumi lept at you before he even said hello to Satoru
⇶ Satoru feigned being hurt by the action, but Megumi still payed him no mind, directing all his attention to you
⇶ Satoru thanked Utahime for watching Megumi, and you overheard her saying something about not dumping his kid on her again
⇶ Megumi had you sit in the backseat with him, and told you about all the stuff he did at Utahime’s
⇶ All the sudden, he asked why you and Satoru were all dressed up
“Did you guys go on a date?”
You and Satoru shared a questioning look through the rear view mirror, one that asked ‘Should we tell him?’.
“Sure did little man!” Satoru told him, but Megumi didn’t seem too surprised by his answer.
“Oh, Dad goes on a lot of those,” Megumi said, before going back to playing with the plastic dinosaur in his lap.
Satoru was rethinking all his life choices in that moment. He gulped back the saliva that had pooled in his mouth, already going over how exactly he could explain that to you later on.
To his surprise, he heard you laugh at Megumi’s comment.
“But I’m your favorite, right?” You asked the boy, playfully nudging him. He turned to you with big wide eyes and smiled.
“Yup!”
⇶ Dropping you off at your house, Satoru thanked you for letting him take you out, and haphazardly tried to apologize for Megumi’s little comment and explain himself
⇶ You told him it was fine, and thanked him for the night, hugging him and planting a kiss on his cheek
⇶ Satoru froze up at the action, but managed to say bye to you as he collected himself and you disappeared into your house
⇶ When he and Megumi got back home, Satoru made a point to explain to Megumi why he couldn’t just throw out information like that to people, especially you
⇶ While putting on the boys pajamas in the dimly lit dinosaur themed room, Megumi yawned out a question
“Hey, dad,”
He spoke through a yawn while rubbing his eye with his fist. Satoru hummed back in acknowledgment, straining out the bottom of the little boy’s pajama shirt
“Is Ms. L/n gonna be my mom?” Megumi asked, looking at Satoru with low, sleepy eyes.
Satoru thought back to the statement that popped into his head during dinner. You would make a great mom for him.
“Um,” Satoru started, tucking Megumi underneath his comforter. “I dunno yet.”
He was honest. He didn’t know if what he was feeling for you was real or if he was just in over his head.
“I hope she is,” Megumi muttered, huffing out as his breathing turned into soft snores.
“Me too, Megs.”
Taglist: @megurulvr @miirene @planetlunaa @kazuminari @goldenglow149 + @torusmochi
Send in a ask or DM me to be added to all taglists, or fill out my form to be added to select ones.
Thank you for reading, comments and reblogs are appreciated!
1K notes · View notes
luvjunie · 9 months
Text
— roller skating
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: e-42!miles x fem!reader
contains: romance, slightlyyy (barely) suggestive fluff, miles and reader are in their late teens for realistic purposes
summary: you and miles go on a date to the roller rink and you have a hard time picking up the skill. you ask him to demonstrate for you and he obliges, but you’re so caught up in him that you’re not sure you learned anything at all. wc: 1,254
a/n: if you want to listen to the song mentioned while reading, i suggest you start it when you come across the spotify link i added during the exact scene it’s playing in the story. i highly recommend waiting until prompted so you can experience exactly what reader did cause chileeee. it hits differenttt like i fr made myself fall in love with this one 😭 also if you didn’t know, this is the exact vibe of a black roller rink lol. example 2
🎧: Close To You - Dreezy, T-Pain
Tumblr media
“miles, i’m going to fall.” you whined nervously, your body basically glued to the length of your boyfriend’s right arm.
“you won’t ma, i got you.”
he laughed gently at your uneasy stance, and secretly at how terrified you were of participating in what’s been one of his favorite activities since he was a child.
his skates rolled smoothly against the floor as he guided the both of you to the rink; but yours, however, awkwardly clunked around as you settled for taking wary steps, instead of actually gliding like you were supposed to.
how you ended up agreeing to a date at the roller rink with miles was beyond you. you were someone who tripped over your own two feet at least twice a day from simply trying to walk. but with his promise of teaching you and his guarantee of going slow, your nerves had dissipated some— until you’d actually slipped the skates on and got out onto the rink.
“don’t pick your feet up mama. just push them out to the side, one after the other and lean your body forward. you got it.”
you heard his instructions loud and clear, but your brain still struggled to send the correct signals to your unsophisticated body.
you wobbled against the browned, laminated wood, not really a fan of your newfound lack of control when it came to your own legs. right hand hovered out beside you in preparation for a tumble, the fingers of your left were tightly clamped around miles’ bicep as an effort to keep your balance. you had a death grip on him, too focused on not eating shit to wonder if you were hurting him or not. you weren’t, but even if you were, he wouldn’t tell you.
“you’re overthinkin’ it.” he smiled down at you, finding your instinctive need to hold onto him adorable.
“how the hell do you do this without falling flat on your ass?” you asked, already exasperated from your short trek from the bench.
“i’m just like that.” he shrugged suavely, chuckling discreetly when your head turned towards him with a pointed glare. “practice. my moms taught me when i was eight,” he rephrased, and you stumbled suddenly, but he quickly caught you by your arm, two strong hands steadying you before your feet could sweep out from under you.
“okay, no, this isn’t gonna work,” a shaky breath pushed passed your lips and somehow you managed to bring the both of you to a stop over by the wall of the rink, hand instantly finding purchase on the railing. “can you just, i don’t know… demonstrate, first?” you waved your hand around, motioning towards the other people out on the floor to get your point across. “maybe if i watch you do it, it’ll come to me easier.”
he nodded, retreating from you slowly, backwards. he gestured back and forth between the both of you with his finger, your eyes unintentionally falling to it. “eyes on me, aight?” he instructed with a subtle smirk, a sultry trace lingering in his tone.
you couldn’t take them off him even if you tried, so that wouldn’t be a problem.
you were convinced your attraction towards this man couldn’t become any stronger than it already was, until “Close To You” by Dreezy started playing through the speakers and the spot lights on the ceiling dimmed dreamily to a mellowed pink, blue, and orange— blending into a seductive mix of captivating hues that illuminated the rink. you felt yourself swoon, and had half a mind to curse out whoever was on music and lighting for aiding in the palpitations of your heart as your eyes followed your boyfriend closely.
you watched his feet first, as one fanned out in a small half-circle after the other, the movement allowing him to skillfully glide out onto the bustling rink.
how he was able to skate backwards when you had such a hard time grasping the concept of even doing it the normal way, you didn’t know. not to mention sifting through people without bumping into a single one of them. and while the technique of it all seemed simple on paper, what really impressed you was how effortless he made it look.
facing the opposite way of everybody else as he cruised, his hips languidly swayed to the beat of the music, upper body leaning just the slightest with them and you had no choice but to gawk at him— at how handsome he looked, at how good he was at this. at how his lips were absentmindedly tucked into themselves due to his focus, then unfurled to faintly mouth the lyrics.
lord have mercy.
you were mesmerized to say the least, lips parted somewhat and mouth dry. it was like everyone else had disappeared, like the two of you were the only ones in the room; time moving slower than it usually did.
once he started enjoying himself and got into a groove, he’d forgotten you were even watching him, until he caught your marveling eyes transfixed on him from across the rink, chin dropping to his chest for a beat as he simpered to himself. tongue wetting his lips, he shook his head in amusement. he already knew why you were looking at him like that.
with one foot expertly crossing in front of the other periodically, he maneuvered himself through a few stragglers with a brief look over his shoulder, swiftly spinning around a couple that happened to be in his way.
yeah, now he was just showing off.
you had no idea what your face looked like, but as he rounded back over to where you were, he laughed at your awestruck expression and called out to you.
“you droolin’, mami!”
if your jaw wasn’t already dropped from watching him nonchalantly coast around, it definitely was now.
your fingers mindlessly rushed to check, because honestly you wouldn’t be surprised if you were, only for a playful glower to settle onto your face when you realized he was messing with you.
having forgotten you were supposed to try for yourself, your eyes widened in slight panic when he suddenly skated over to you and gently took your hand, pulling you out onto the floor against your will.
“no no no no-!”
“cálmate, mama.” he drawled, his words dragging on as he shot you that same charming smile that’d made you fall in love with him in the first place. “i’ll hold you, no te preocupes (don’t worry). just c’mere,”
you gave him a look of uncertainty, but reluctantly moved your feet just enough to get closer to him anyway. he met you halfway, and snaked his right arm around your waist, expertly turning you so your backside was facing him before he pulled you flush against his body, and your teeth found your bottom lip before you could stop them.
his left arm then came around to your front to meet the other and your lungs drew in a wavered breath at the feeling of his hands resting on the soft of your inner thighs, dangerously close to having your knees buckling. your face bloomed with a sweltering heat, mind entirely corrupted by him and him only. how the intoxicating aroma of his dior sauvage cologne invaded your nostrils; how it felt being against him like this. lashes fluttering and mind turning to putty at the way he was holding you, your warning to him was merely a whispered reminder.
“miles.”
“shhh, i know what i’m doin’.” his response had a double meaning to it as he kept you tightly pressed to him, figure hunched over yours a bit. his breath warmed your skin and his lips brushed the shell of your ear when he spoke, his hands tapping rhythmically against your thighs to keep up with the beat of the song while he helped guide you into the same fluid movement he’d demonstrated prior.
your hands came down to rest overtop his, and you were shocked at the way your body naturally began to sway in sync along with his once you let yourself relax into him; the both of you settling into a comfortable stroll.
“see, ¿que te dije? (see, what’d i tell you?)” he teased, his voice a deep hum against your cheek. “you got it.”
Tumblr media
- please don’t plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to any other platforms!
likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated 💗
2K notes · View notes
frmisnow · 3 months
Text
˙✧˖ ?! — TOUCHIN' MYSELF THINKING 'BOUT YOU.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
— ‧₊˚ — 🫐: "so my little girl is all grown up??"
summary. your past three years of dating were horrendous, all to cover up any living horny thought of your brothers bestfriend, how do you vent to that bestfriend about your problems without mentioning him?
note. FIRST FIC ON THIS BLOG RAH, conclusion: I LOVE CHOI FUCKING SEUNGCHEOL 🦢₊✧⋆ was listening to lana del rey while writing the first bit so prepare.....
song recs. chemtrails over the country club (lana del rey), good for you (selena gomez ft. asap rocky), older (isabel larosa)
warnings/includes. non idol! seungcheol x fem! reader, lil elements of angst at the beginning, they're both kinda obssesed with eachother in the end (whoop whoop), reader is like 5 years younger (it's not to bad), he's so bf it hurts (in the beginning), 'little girl' + 'brainless/cum slut' mentioned, nipple play + tit sucking, big dick, size kink-ish, PROTECTED SEX (YASSS) - MDNI !!!!
Tumblr media
"i just don't now what i'm doing wrong!" what you also don't know is how you ended up here, sitting on the soft rug of seungcheols apartment with a tea in hand, his adress you solely memorized from your brothers countless times of blabbering about it, was the last thing you reminded while running from the restaurant.
he sat down with a quiet sigh onto his wide coffee brown coach, that him and your brother used to play videogames on in high school and you couldn't help but feel like a burden once again.
i mean what did you think? storming into the apartment of the bestfriend from the brother you broke of contact like five months ago: so foolish. the rain was still pouring in buckets outside, the noise it made on the glass of the large windows, very audible.
it's not that he wasn't nice about this as soon as he saw her at his front door, he ran in full speed to get her one of his thick puffy sweaters, immadetly scolding her for even thinking of walking out in the rain and the cold in the short dress.
he behaved just how any kind person would, just how any past kind-of-ish friend ended on good terms would've and that's what hurt.
seungcheol didn't know that all of these dates with all of the jerks where to drain him out of her thoughts. seungcheol didn't know that you'd cut out your brother from pictures, to leave him only on it as a teen. precious seungcheol didn't know how you'd pick out people who were kinda closed to him, so you could stay in semi-contact if you ever were to date the person. so you wouldn't feel stupid ever contacting him without your damn brother, so you wouldn't feel like fourteen again.
granted; you tried everything to forget him in any shape and form possible: you'd overwork yourself to death just to forget about that one hot ass eyebrow thingie he did to tease you as a kid, countless meaningless sex was also always an option: just to forget the printed image of what his dick might look like. and it didn't work, at all.
no matter how hard you tried, cheol would always find a way to tiptoe back into your head, "it's not your fault, you're a good person, y'know" he mumbled into the silence, his tone incredibly soft and gentle like reassuring a crying child: he was just so fucking nice it made you want to ball your eyes out.
sometimes you wish he'd murder someone or throw insults at you, you wish he'd do anything for you to hate him: but he didn't, of course he didn't.
you stand up to bring the now empty cup to the kitchen counter but he catches your wrist whilst still sitting on the coach, stopping you. "you're cold, sit down - i'll take care of it" he pushes you down onto the coach, ordering you to sit and you know he won't allow any discussion on the matter.
and it sucked, it sucked that he was so damn loveable. it sucked that he had to flash you that familar wide smile that made you want to jump out the window right onto the wet streets of seoul.
he skipped back from the kitchen quickly now with an additional blanket in hand, this usually would've been the part where you'd normally say 'no, it's fine' or some other lame and lied remark, however this time you didn't. you simply grabbed the blanket, covering your body while staring out of the windows in a slight daze.
the sound of the rain made your eyes wander back up to him as you noticed the concerned look on his face.
"are you feeling sick?" he mumbled while his eyes wandered around your face, cupping it with both hands, examining you, "well you don't seem to be hot, that's good"
cheol smiled kindly again at his own words, his hands still on your face - now without any particular reason, he gulps slightly as you notice his eyes wandering all over your face.
he's about to awkwardly pull them away when you stop him, holding his wrists firmly as you look down at the ground in embarassement, you felt so weak: like you were begging for attention.
"why did you come? don't lie, tell me why you came" his tone was still reassuring, his fingers now lightly brushing against your cheeks, your gaze remaining
"the date just sucked and i- i didn't know where to go, i didn't want to be home alone and your adress was the first thing i remembered, i'm sorry i know i'm wasting your time" the words flew out of your mouth instantly however that wasn't the only reason and you both knew it.
you needed a place to stay and a person that could comfort you and you'd always found both in him.
his thumb kept stroking your cheek in a repeating motion, if you could've you would've curled up in his lap and held onto his shoulders like you did when you were little. why does everything become so complicated when you're an adult?
"you'll stay the night, it's midnight, you're fucking freezing and it's raining outside - i'll show you the bedroom" he said with so much casualty in his words, like it was the most normal thing in the world, you appreciated him making this feel as 'normal' as he could.
"no, i can take the coa-" he fell into her words, "no" his voice for the first time this evening stern, allowing no counter arguments.
seungcheol took both of your hands, helping you stand up from the coach, guiding you incredibly gentle until he added, "don't worry about it, i'm glad you came to me"
Tumblr media
he was so sexy goddamnit.
it just wasn't fair, it wasn't fair that you had to innocently sit on his bed in his clothes watching him undress and pretend you aren't watching and quite literally drooling over the way his muscles flexed with just simple movements.
if you could you would kiss each little ounce of skin on his body and you'd gladly do it over and over again.
fourteen-year-old you would sell her soul for this, deep down you wanted to jump onto him and rip off his remaining clothes.
it was so funny, he was painfully unaware and oblivious of the effect he had on you yet when he turned around now his bare back shown to you as he scretches to get a shirt from the closet you let out a little sound of surprise.
"since when do you have tatteos?" your voice mumbled almost like a self thought to yourself but audible to him, about the size of half a hand a black tattoo grazed his upper back.
he turned around, man tits and abs all out a cheeky little grin on his face almost like he's happy you noticed, "i got this second year, college so like almost eight years ago-" he pauses, eyebrows slightly furrowed in light confusion and shook, "wow, time really does fly, does it?"
"it really does" your voice tone changing for a split second to something a bit more nostalgic as you stood up from the bed, hands reaching out naively towards the tattoo, "... can i?"
seungcheol nodded in response as your fingers began lazily tracing the outline of it, "do you have more?" he shaked his head, his chest rising and falling faster than before but maybe you're just envisioning things, "you need to stop" his voice now also changed, sounding almost hoarse?
you didn't realize you were making him nervous at all, he never seemed the typ of guy that could have any sort of reaction when it came to such simple and tender touch.
"i'm sorry if i'm making you uncomfortable, it's just really pretty"  you explained while you looked back down at your hand which looked unusually small in comparison to his back, "the tattoo or something else?" he answered faintly and you felt practically caught in the act yet you rested your head on his broad back, basically on the tattoo in response, "both" where did you get the sudden courage from?
from one minute to another, you grew rather bold as your hands move from his tattoos to his little moles, moving between them like a map and even that turned to a point where you started to massage his back making him groan.
in a sudden swift motion, your face was once again cupped, his hands cold, his own face inches away from your own as he muttered, "why are you doing this to me? why are you making it so hard?"
you froze in place once he took your face in his hands and your breath caught in your throat, his voice became quiet and his eyes shifted over to your mouth before your eyes met once more.
it took you some time to process what he said, your mind running wild as you tried to respond to what he just asked.
"i need you, been needing you, that's also why i'm here," you murmured muffled as a slow smile creeped up on his face, there was almost like a hint of relief in his expression, "how long have you been needing me for?" his tone mocking in a sexual way.
your gaze shifts to the floor, hiding from his praying eyes which just won't leave yours, "since fourteen"
"and how old are you?"
"you wanna embaress me," as you added "you already know it"
he chuckled, "oh, but i want my little girl to tell me" his hands wander back to your face, lifting it, a silent command for you to look up to him.
"your little girl? I'm 5 years younger then you, it's not the end of the world" you protested till after about 20 seconds adding weakly, "23"
"so my little girl is all grown up?" his hands leaving your face, tracing your collarbone till travelling to your tits, circling around them meanwhile maintaining eye contact like waiting for an answer.
"so pretty, so pretty for me" a slow, knowing grin tugged at the corners of his mouth as he slid his cold hands underneath the shirt he gave you earlier, taking a hold of your tits, "wanted to touch these for so long"
you raised your eyebrows, breath hitching cause you just had to ask, "since when?"
his fingers squeezed both tits, his gaze seeming a little hazy as it took him a few seconds to register what you just said yet he was quick to finally answer, "ever since you stopped talking to me, since the last time we talked on the phone, all i've had was you on my mind, i missed your voice"
"i touched myself fuckin' thinking 'bout you it would've been wrong if if i clocked in every now and then to pretend we're good old friends"
as you were responding he traced your nipples, making your finally sentence come out strained and breathy yet seungcheols actions paused when he heard what you forced out.
that tiny little smirk slowly but surerly found its way onto his face admist one raised eyebrow, the thing he did that would make young you always go feral, "how many times are we talking about here?"
looking down, you shamefully avoided his eager eye contact, it was so fucking embarrassing - it was embarrassing how you could feel your pussy fuckin throbbing from a little tit touching, it was embarrassing how many times you imagined his fat cock pounding into you when you were fucking his friends, it was embarrassing how many utter times you solely thought of him during other sex.
"that's what i thought" he grinned, "hands up" you did as he told when cheol slid of your shirt completely, simply the sight of your bare chest making him groan.
he wrapped his hands around each of the both, his big veiny hands covering them up entirely, his fingers moving to your nipples pinching both individually, "bet you used a dildo every fucking night, praying that it was gon' be me one day huh"
you moaned in response, shifting and arching closer to him - closer to his damn hands, seungcheol groaned while he himself motioned even nearer to your boobs, his mouth enclosing around your left hardened nipple, straight away beginning to lick your soft and sensitive flesh.
your hands ran through his hair, staying locked in them, your knuckles visable due to the sensation. you being a bit lightheaded leads to the both of you stumbling back slightly, ending up on his large bed his hands now running all over your body - touching, squeezing anything he could reach, his mouth never leaving your chest.
"so pretty," the sound of his rough voice mixed with little mewls muffeled as he sucks on the precious skin, "so fucking pretty"
you press your hips forward shamelessly, craving any form of friction, his heavy erection pressing against you directly as you groan deeply at the feeling of his skilled tongue working wonders on your tits combined with his cock against you, fabric being the only thing seperating both.
"need you," you pressed out, your own whimper cutting you off "in me, need you, inside"
"why? i'm not in a rush" his tone was still commanding yet his voice was as hoarse as ever like fighting with his inner self of just giving in.
"cheolie please" that sweet little nickname - his favorite, he liked so much, she used to call him that always.
cheol jolted his head, looking up to the ceiling, grunting loudly, "always have to make everything so hard for me"
in one swift motion, his oversized shorts that he gave you were slipped of you and he rested his hands on her ankles dragging you a bit closer to him, "gotta check if this pussy is ready for me, k?" he looked back at you, expecting a nod as you did so, much to your unease he spread your legs wide, inspecting and checking with two fingers even curling making you lightly squirm.
almost like sensing cheol was about to deny and say you weren't ready, you rapidly exclaimed: "can take it," when seeing his unimpressed face expression adding, "i swear, cheolie, promise"
deep down he liked it when you were vulnerable to him like this, when he saw you as something he could control and gently toy with instead of someone he once considered a friend. he liked the sight of you like this, so exposed, so fragile, so small - it made him want to protect you, it made him want to make you his but most importantly it made him want to fuck you brainless.
his hands ran to his pants, removing them of himself swiftly yet almost lazily like he had all the time in the world as if you weren't openly struggling to not cum on the spot, undone - just upon seeing the sight of his cock.
your lips slightly part, eyes a bit wider and for the first time in your sex life you actually wonder if you can take dick.
"what, are you suddenly unsure?" he moves closer to you, his fingers roaming through your hair like a soft caress contradicting to anything he said in the past five minutes, the cocky grin stays on cheols face so you know that he's still good old mean him.
"don't you think you'd look so pretty on it? don't you need my cum deep inside you? didn't you pray every fuckin' night for my cock to scretch you out? don't you? mmh" his tone incredibly mocking and dripping of pure sarcasm, his body now towering over you as his hands slide on a condom from his night desk over his length.
"che-" your words were abrouptly cut of by his dick slipping into you, so easily - the wet mess that you were already additionaly helped him slide in smoothly.
"so needy for my cock" he was about half way through filling you up and you dreaded the actual full fit cause you already felt him so deep inside. his thrusts were slow at first almost careful like testing the waters but surely picked up pace whilst mumbling: "so proud of you, look at you- taking it so well"
it felt like you had water in your ear, no thoughts in your brain as the only sounds you heard were the wet skin slapping noises echoing through your mind.
he pulled out just for a split second just to slap into you even harder, balls deep to the point where you could feel him probably somewhere in your stomach, incoherent blabbering and pleading coming from your direction.
"you're just a brainless little slut, who doesn't have anybody satisfying her, a brainless little slut who'd get on her knees for anyone just to forget about my dick, a brainless little slut who kept all those horny thoughts to herself for nine years just to spill them out the second i asked, that's you, isn't it?"
you moaned weakly in response as he mercilessly continued to pound into you, "fucking made for this, made to take me in every way there is"
it was truly pathetic, how you could already feel that tingling feeling in your tummy signalising that you were close and it was pathetic how his words turned you on, how they made you lift your hips up further how they made you whimper every time.
"gonna train you into my own little cum slut," his breathing irregular practically panting yet he's serious, "so close, cheolie fuck i-" his hands wander back to your tits while maintaining the same pace of hip movement, squeezing and kneading the delicate skin, biting his lips.
you clench around him, hips pushing forward one last time as you come, a mix of cursing and unsensical nonsense leaving both of yalls mouth during as he jolts his head back coming at the same time.
after about a minute later, seungcheol pulls out carefully, his hands cupping your face, looking at you sweetly almost innocently like he didn't just fuck the living brain out of you.
"are you okay?" you nod along, smiling lazily, your arms wrapping around his tough bare chest pulling him closer.
he returned the hug, wrapping his buff arms around you completely, kissing the top of your head softly, "i wasn't to mean, was i?"
706 notes · View notes
iwaasfairy · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
┌─ “ ! „ ADORE L'AMOUR
tw. noncon/dubcon, implied yandere, forced emotional cheating, virginity, service dom, coercion/manipulation, corruption kink, size kink, creampie, service dom! tsumu, degradation and praise wordcount. 5.5k
a/n. commissioned by a lovely person who wanted to stay anonymous, thank you so much for commissioning me and trusting me with your story, and i really really hope it delivers and you enjoy!!! this is kinda softer than my usual stuff but also still read the tws pretty please ♡♡♡ ya and ty and enJOYyy some tsumu
miya atsumu x fem!reader
Tumblr media
“Come up, will ya?” he smiles, grabbing your hand and swinging the interlaced pair back and forth. You can’t help but have to bite back a tiny smile at the way his rougher hand links into yours, and butterflies still erupt any time his hazel eyes find you.
“Shin, I-” you sigh back, before quietly chuckling as he heaves you up onto the bleachers and tugs you along to slide in right next to the familiar face. Aran rolls his eyes, but you can tell that there’s too much fondness in his look to seriously mind the lovey-dovey shit— and really, you can’t help it.
Any girl your age would be expected to go all heart eyes when their boyfriend looks at them that way. “Happy now?” you ask as you’re pushed between Aran and the escape to the outside fresh air, void of all the sweaty teen musk and squeaking sneakers, and Shinsuke smiles ever so slightly at the sight.
“Yes, I am. Keep our long-suffering ace company for a bit while he patches up his ankle, won’t ya?” He’s already escaping down from the stands with the knowledge that you will, because if nothing else, you love watching the guys play. You’ve loved watching Shinsuke play ever since middle school, and Aran’s expression gives you the idea that he knows this too. Because he simply shrugs, and re-wraps the ice pack a little better around that wounded ankle.
“Aye aye, Captain,” you shoot back as he makes his way back to the court, and this time, he gives you that wonderfully cheeky smile that made you fall head-over-heels in the first place. “And you, you’re a third year. You’re supposed to be one of the responsible ones.” You give the tall ace to your side a side-eye as he laughs full and loud, and nods.
“Sorry, Mrs. Kita. It won’t happen again.” Practice continues for another half an hour in peace, as you joke around with your boyfriend’s best friend for a while, tossing the occasional stray ball back onto the court, but mainly, just watching the guys play. You didn’t use to have such a love for the sport. When you were a ball-girl back in middle school, you only did it because it was an easy extra grade on your report card, and kept you sort of busy during hours you wouldn’t have anything else to do.
But now, sometimes it seems as much your life blood as it is theirs. You probably wouldn’t have developed such a crush on the quiet, well-spoken boy with the fluffy tufts of hair that flopped about if you hadn’t kept with it, wouldn’t have dated him, wouldn’t have laid in the dark talking about what your life together might look like. Watched Shin grow into the person he is today.
You smile and wave as Shinsuke looks up at you yet again and throws back a wink, and a few of the guys follow his gaze. Familiar lazy gazes of differing shades of brown. But they stay quiet, for now, and the team captain claps his hands to call for a break. And the lankiest of your middle blockers groans and reaches for a bench too quickly, as everyone disperses. Aran makes his way down the stands for the toilet, Ginjima follows suit, and your boyfriend goes through the trouble to start collecting the balls with the same single-minded focus he always has while practicing. But before you can so much as manage to make it down the stairs to help him out, a familiar figure comes up beside you.
“Captain’s got it, I think,” Atsumu smiles as he comes to walk beside you, not the slightest bit winded despite having jogged up to you after an hour of intensive training— and blinks down at you with the self-assured grin you’ve come to expect of the star setter. “Yer still comin’ to our practices, huh?”
“Yes, Miya. Believe it or not, I actually like watching you guys play, ‘m not just here to waste time and gawk.”
“Whoa, doll,” the blond isn’t fazed, and simply throws up his hands in mock-defense, “I wouldn’t dare question the validity of yer visits. I mean, ya brighten up the place, really.” The comfortable way he swings an arm over your shoulder and leans in a little isn’t too far out of how he usually acts, and you do know that Atsumu’s pretty damn touchy with everyone. But his smile, and the way his eyes flick down your face with an almost grating intensity— will never stop feeling flirty- and therefore- inappropriate. Though you try to find something fitting to say, he’s already running his mouth again before you get the chance to.
“Would be even better if ya’d put on a shirt with my name on it and took some cheer classes,” he gloats, and the way he walks leaned into you keeps his face much too close to yours as you go to frown at him, “bet ya’d really suit the Inarizaki colors when you glare like that.” It sets you off, and he knows it does, because he’s dodging the way you go to swing at his arm with a chuckle before you get to, and catches your fist in his hand to squeeze it a little. “Hah, always so mean to me. Getting predictable, pretty girl.”
Your bottom lip is sucked to slot between your teeth, and you roll your eyes, shrugging off the other hand that he tried to ruffle through your hair. “You’re exhausting.”
“Sure is,” Shinsuke suddenly mumbles, tossing a ball at the setter that he manages to catch, before raising a brow. “That’s my girlfriend, Atsumu. If you would, please.”
“Ya got it, Cap’n. Of course,” he chants back with a sing-song-y voice, but his thumb still rubs another few circles into the soft skin of your hand before he goes to annoy Osamu and Suna instead. It sends a cold shiver down your spine, but he’s pulling away before you have the chance to really acknowledge the touch. And if Kita has any concerns about what he just saw, you sure as hell can’t tell, when he pulls you close and places a loving kiss between your brows. But you still have to force yourself to ignore the way Atsumu gives you a once over and -if you didn’t know the guy better than that- undresses you with his eyes.
+
Graduation should feel a little bittersweet, you guess. The party isn’t too wild, considering, but it’s still loud and a little over the top— so you confine yourself to the area further away from the pounding music and sip reasonably mild drinks while the rest of the team and their plus-ones take their best attempt at rattling Suna’s house off its’ foundations. It’s warm for a spring night, and sweat sticks to the back of your neck and chest from the earlier forced dancing you were pulled into. But now the pool table has been abandoned for the garden, and you take the few quiet moments to breathe.
Most of the guys will be moving on to professional level, a few of them to university, and another few have jobs lined up. Just last year, Shinsuke moved back out to the countryside, and Aran to Tokyo; and while you’ve all tried to keep up communications, distance really does play a big part in it. And now it’s all your turns… It’ll be safe to say you won’t see some of them again much in just a few quick months. The thought already fills you with a strange sort of nostalgia. You don’t get too much rest though, because a flash of blonde followed by an equally handsome, dark-haired copy filter back into the house. Atsumu brightens a little when he spots you, lazy eyes sharper and more calculating in the low light of the house. Of course he does, he seems to have a strange fascination with annoying you to bits.
“Well, pretty girl, ‘ve ya been abandoned by yer human defense robot?” His handsome face paints on a grin, with slightly rosy cheeks and ears, that almost makes him look a few years younger. Almost makes him look innocent. You know better though, and swallow down the want to give back some snarky comment that would surely have you in a battle of wits until someone puts a stop to it. And his twin… isn’t that person. You wonder how much he’s had to drink. Not that you’re doing much better, anyway. You can feel the buzz in your blood and the heat on your face.
Osamu’s hair is messy and fluffier than usual, probably courtesy of the girlfriend he brought and— with a quick glance around the room— has been left on her lonesome somewhere in the partying group outside. You pity her just a little bit, but it doesn’t exactly surprise you that the Miya twins aren’t the most consistent with their affections. The guys started having groupies all the way back in freshman year, and the years have only built upon that fame. The darker haired of the two puts a fist into Atsumu’s shoulder, before crossing his arms. “That’s our last Captain yer talkin’ about, stupid Tsumu. Show some respect.”
“Aw, Samu. I’m sorry, alright.”
You smile softly, and nod your head towards the door. “Not abandoned. He stepped out for a minute for a smoke,” you cut them off, knowing full well they could continue their bickering for hours if left to it. It’s not like you don’t like the twins. They’re obnoxious, and boisterous and hyper at the best of times, but they’re insanely talented too. You would like them, if not for— Atsumu feeling too comfortable hanging his arm over your shoulder to pull you in for a hug, heavy cologne mixed with a scent that is distinctly more him enveloping you as you freeze up. “Miya-”
“‘S gonna be weird without everyone ‘round, huh? I’ll miss ‘em,” he lowers his voice as he keeps your face into his chest, and simply out of a desire not to feel too awkward, you allow your arms to wrap loosely around his back. You give a little motion to be let out of the hug to nod, and smooth your hands down your pants.
“Yeah, me too.”
There’s a sort of glint in Atsumu’s eyes that seems like tenderness as he pats your shoulder, then smiles. “Well, a’least you’ll know me.” Your expression must give away your confusion, because he continues. “Yer goin’ to Tokyo uni, I’m goin’ to Tokyo to check out some of the teams there. It’ll be good. Don’t tell me yer just gonna ignore me when we’re gonna live so close together.”
You don’t think it over- Shinsuke must’ve told him. As the buzz washes over you and the music picks up outside, Atsumu’s large hands find your shoulders and he turns you around towards Osamu, who has already poured three large shots. “Oh, I don’t-”
“Come on~ for prosperity,” Osamu chants, his hand finding yours to unfurl it and place one of the large shot glasses in your hand. And Atsumu nods behind you, basically glittering from excitement. You’re normally a bit more -standoffish, by necessity- but the atmosphere of the night is light. And Tsumu’s hand on your lower back as he pushes you towards one of the chairs and sits you down is nice; even if you only realize a second or two after that he’s sat below you.
“Ya owe me a couple cheers at least,” Atsumu basically coos into your neck as he taps his own glass to yours. “‘Sides, I think Shin went ta go drop off some of the other guys, no need ta wait up for ‘em. Right Samu?”
“That’s what I heard, Tsumu.”
+
You don’t expect university to be the thing that breaks you, but the distance, the lack of communication, of support— all drag on you. You and Shin both promised to make it work, but he’s busy a lot. The farm keeps him occupied. At least- that’s what you have to assume when most of your messages get read and not answered. It isn’t like Shin, but then again, you suppose it’s a growing period. It’s natural.
More surprising than that is that through it all, Atsumu is there a lot more than you expected. The giant, prestigious sport center where he trains isn’t too far from your campus, but he still goes out of his way to swing by whenever he can to keep you company, which isn’t so self explanatory as you had hoped it would be. It’s not that you don’t make friends, or can’t make friends, it’s just that- after a few weeks- they just seem to vanish off of the face of the earth. Like they were never even there to begin with. You even catch some people purposefully avoiding you on campus as the year goes on.
But the workloads are heavy, and hard, so you sadly don’t have enough time in a day to worry about it as much as you would like to. You still have Atsumu, at least, and as much as you wouldn’t have wanted to admit it shy of a few months ago, his persistence about wanting to be by your side does slowly have you bending just a little.
“I swear it, cross ma little heart,” the blonde dramatically says while walking the grounds with you- on his free day- “am I not the best goddamn setter in the prefecture? What choice is there?” He runs a hand through his hair, then looks over at you to pout. “Make me feel better, c’mon.” Before you can really analyze the moment or how he looks at you with those warm brown eyes and too much fondness, his hand wraps around yours, slipping his fingers between yours with a strange determination.
You stop walking, and your school bag hits your thigh hard because of the abrupt stop. “Atsumu.” You’ve had this conversation with him about a million times. You are with Shinsuke. You have been with Shinsuke since middle school, and though dealing with the distance is hard right now, you promised to try. And he says he understands, and you’re making a big deal out of nothing— but it sure doesn’t seem like he does. “I am d-dating Sh-”
“Ya keep sayin’ yer dating, but where is yer boyfriend? Didn’t ya say he hasn’t been responding to yer messages?” Though he tries to keep his voice down, he doesn’t let go of your hand, and stares like he’ll burn holes through the shape of you. “Ain’t that proof enough?”
“I know Shinsuke, and you know Shinsuke. If he wanted to break up, he would say it.” You puff your chest out a little, and swallow, trying to untangle your hands from his grip. “He’s busy, and this is a transition period for us both, and I just- I want to make it work.” Atsumu seems to cling on for a second longer with a slight kink in his brow, but then he lets go and sighs, rubbing his hands back and forth through his lighter blonde hair with a groan.
“Fine— fine! If ya gotta hear ‘im say it…”
+
The irony tastes bitter. It stings with every swallow, really.
‘I think it’s not working out. I’m sorry. We should break up.’
You’re staring at the message for the nth time this evening, burying yourself in your cocoon of blankets and an almost empty back of chips yet again. You must’ve breathed it into existence, right? There’s no way around the timing of the message, and the sick way it churns in your stomach. You’re halfway towards another crying fit when Atsumu plops himself down onto your bed and grimaces. “Put that down,” he mumbles, snatching the phone out of your hand despite your glare, “you’ve been cryin’ all fucking evening. You really wanna do more of that?”
“I didn’t ask you to come over,” your voice is a murmur, pinched and sad and tiny, because who wouldn’t be heartbroken at a moment like this. “You just invited yourself in, which- hck- is the worst timing you’ve ever had.”
“But yer glad I’m here. I know ya are.” Whatever. Maybe you’re a little glad for the company, but Atsumu’s flavor of bluntness is really doing a number on you. Instead you reach for a tissue and blow your nose again, and try not to cry yourself to death. “He didn’t treat ya right anyway, don’t lie t’ yerself. Hey- look- look at me, c’mon,” his hands are on your face as he tugs it towards him and stares too deep into your eyes, brushing his thumbs along your cheekbones. “No more cryin’ about yer shitty high school crush. Not while I’m here, and I’m yer amazing, incredible support system that yer so very grateful for-” He breaks off in laughter when you have to bite a chuckle back despite your heartache, and try to pull your face out of his touch.
But he lingers, and leans in a little. “What? Am I wrong?”
“You’re not wrong, and I- I’m glad you’re here-” It isn’t a lie, but he’s still leaning in, and his face is growing awfully close and it’s- it’s too soon— and you shrink into your cocoon and look away in an attempt to save the situation. Shin broke up with you hours ago. “Atsumu-” you start, only to be cut off as he tugs the blankets down somewhat harshly, and clicks his tongue.
“Stop runnin’. Yer always doing this crap, I’m…” He sighs, and tries to coach you back out with thinly veiled patience. “Am I really so bad to ya? Hm?”
“Of course you’re not.”
He sits back, before patting his lap, and looks at you. In the last light of the sun that falls through your window he’s cast in the prettiest oranges and pinks, and looks almost ethereal to the world. You’re not blind. That was never in question. “Come here.” Despite being conflicted, there’s a glint in his eye that worries you. That if you were to disagree, he’d leave. And you’re not sure you could handle that right about now. As he leads you out of the blankets you notice how cold your room is in just a shirt and some ugly shorts, and Atsumu mumbles something under his breath. “Ya weren’t this shy at graduation, y’know.”
Your frown digs into your face, but his hands settle on your hips as he pulls you in and pushes you down into his lap with a soft hum. “What do you mean- graduation?”
“Just settle down, will ya? Jeez.” Warm hands that slide to the small of your back to force you ever so close to him, your heart basically stuttering out of your ribcage. “Always so damn skittish ‘round me.” You always wondered a little, truthfully. If the way Atsumu’s touches would linger on you was something to worry about, keep an eye on. If you should have been more careful about setting boundaries- and how he looks at you now, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth as he gives you an up and down… it says enough. Too much, even.
And though you admit that your heart is pattering like a hummingbird, there’s a much larger issue here. You love Shinsuke, you want- Shinsuke, p-promised you’d make it work for him— and it's barely been a few hours. You can’t, so you try to find the words to say; but the blond leans down to start pressing kisses down the side of your neck with a soft chuckle. His arms wrap tightly around your back, even though you place a hand on his chest and shake your head. “Tsumu, no. We can’t, I- can’t, let go.”
The noise he makes into the kisses trembles through your skin and seems to reach bone, before he squeezes a little harder to keep you slotted against him. “Yer so pretty, baby. Always were so fuckin’ pretty,” he goes from keeping you in his lap to slowly pushing you back in bed, sending your breathing into shallow spikes.
“Tsumu, cut it out!”
“I know yer nervous,” his pretty brown eyes are blown out when he pushes you down by your shoulders and you’re buried in your blankets, before he descends on your throat and chest again, kissing and leaving biting nicks, “didn’t do nothin’ like this before right? Know ya were waitin’- but I got ya now. Relax, I’ll make ya feel good. Promise.” The idea that Tsumu knows something so personal about you doesn’t even cross your mind— though it should, more than the way his weight and size locks you in place under his strong, athletic body.
“No, no, I- Shin just broke up with me- and I-”
His expression darkens, eyes narrowing a little as he comes to hover over you, one hand brushing your cheek as the other wraps tight around your wrist. “Don’t say another man’s name when I got ya under me.” He takes a long breath, before descending on you, mouth to mouth, and then pushing his tongue into your mouth too hard for you to keep him out. You try to call his name, but he kisses you without regard, uncaring as he grips your face and makes a noise of agreement when you relax your jaw out of sheer necessity. “Ya’ve got no idea how long I’ve wanted ya, doll. Really, hah.”
His hand slides down your chest to start picking the shirt up your body, and though your rapidly rising and falling chest is exposed, his eyes stay sharp on you, and you can’t help but choke on your cries. He doesn’t look right. His eyes are wide and so sharp, mouth slightly curled as he forces your both wrists next to your head. “Thought I was gonna have ta kill ‘im for you ta finally give in, but-” He kisses you again, before the hand gripping your face snakes down between your bodies to grab your tits through your shirt as he repositions his thighs to lock your lower half in place under him. “Yer gonna be a good little thing for me, ain’t ya?”
“Tsumu,” you squeak, fisting your hands into his shirt by his shoulders, but it only makes him groan in response. “Let me go, I want-”
“You don’t know what ya want.” He takes a deep breath, before slipping his hands under the garment and brushing his thumb over your raised nipples, peeked from the cold air. “But I do. ‘N I’m gonna make ya beg for me so fuckin’ good.” He lets you go for a moment to take your shirt off with rough tugs, before staring again. “See, Samu said I should give it a rest. But how can I, when I knew you’d be the prettiest little virgin cunt ever? Hm?” He licks his lips, before leaning down to start kissing all over your tits, sucking and tugging at your nipples with noises that make you grow from the inside. A cold shiver rolls down your spine, and you find yourself pulling his hair despite yourself. Because it feels good, and heat pools low in your belly.
“Tell me ya want it. Tell me ya want me.” The fire that seems to glint behind his eyes takes you aback, and you try to scramble from under him, but he’s back over you before you get a chance to. Gripping your face and forcing you into another kiss, the taste of his tongue on yours, deep and heavy. “People here hate ya, don’t ya know that? Think yer a real bitch. That’s why no one wants to be yer friend.” He rests his forehead to yours, so that you’re basically breathing each other’s air, and hums. His free hand starts taking off the sweats he’s wearing in a smooth motion, leaving him hard in just boxers. “But I’ve been ‘ere for you.” Another kiss. “I’m good to ya, too.”
The room is so hot, and your brain completely thrown off with the mix of all emotions you’ve felt in these short few hours; and it has you all fucked up. Tsumu must know this, but he doesn’t care. And you take a few panted breaths, looking between your two bodies at the was your tits brush up against him each time you move— he’s so close. “So say you want it, or I’m leavin’.”
“I want it.” Your voice shakes as it comes out, eyes stinging, head floaty— it barely feels like you said anything at all. “I want you.” He takes that as all he needs before grinning, kissing your temple and shuffling off you to shove his boxers down his thighs, before grabbing himself by the base and stroking a few lazy pumps along himself.
“Here, kiss it,” he nods his head towards it, helping you up and then right back down so you’re on your hands and knees. You’re getting wet. Sadly, you didn’t exactly think to put on any nice panties, but Tsumu doesn’t care as he makes you lean in and down until you can rest your lips to his cock, and he makes another noise. “I know it’s kinda bad but- I’ve been wanting ta fuck yer face for years now. Put- yer tongue out.” The admission only makes you feel more hot and hazy, and you do as you’re told. “Ahh, mhm.” He tastes weird when he pushes the glossy head to your tongue, translucent precum coating your tongue, but he takes a few more pumps, then pushes you back over.
“But not now, I wanna fuck you first. Yer gonna let me fuck your tight, little cunt, right?” The plush in your face doesn’t hide the heat as it floods to your face, your belly, down your legs— and he manhandles your legs up to start peeling off your shorts and panties. You can feel the strings of slick as they connect your wet pussy and the fabric, and hide your face into your shoulder before he groans your name again. “Yer so fuckin’ wet, look atcha. Already a little cock tease, and I haven’t even done nothin’ yet.” Your hot, puffy pussy is revealed, and he swipes two fingers out to circle around the wet hole without hesitation, only pulling back to slot the digits in his mouth. He shrugs his shirt off and tosses it next to the bed, then comes to kiss you again.
“Ya taste that? That’s yer pussy gushin’ like a whore for me. Only me.” He kisses like he’s got something to prove, taking your mouth up until all you can think of is him, and the places where your skin seems to zap under his rough hands. Each touch leaving you more breathless than the next. And you’re forced to just nod along and abide, because you couldn’t ask for what you need if you tried. He plays with your tits while pushing first one prodding digit in, but soon pushes up with two. “Gotta- prep this little hole before I fill you up, right? That’d be the nice thing to do. Even though ya haven’t been very nice to me, babe.”
“‘m sorry- Tsumu-” you hold back a whimpering moan as he squeezes your tits hard and flicks your nipples, and his fingers slowly push into you. The wetness dripping down your slit and along your inner thighs is hot, and your body curves instinctively as he slowly slides in and out a few times, while the man above you chuckles.
“No, you ain’t, little minx.” His grin is still wide though, hiking your one leg higher to get a better look at the way your greedy pussy swallows up his long fingers and he fucks you open so easily. “S’okay tho, I forgive ya. ‘Cus I’m gonna get to fuck this pretty pussy first.” The slick sounds fill the room and sound so, so loud, and lewd, and yet, there’s still more noise coming from your throat as he goes deeper again and his thumb finds your puffy clit with a little hum. “Uhuh, that feel good? Look at you enjoying this. Didn’t you want me ta stop? Huh?”
“Hm,” you just answer, grabbing your own chest with one hand, his arm with the other. He’s so much bigger than you like this, so muscular and intimidating. You look between your bodies to watch his fingers bottom out, and though the stretch is a little uncomfortable, it’s mostly just really, really good, filling your head with fog. Tsumu’s thick cock twitches between his legs, and he leans in to kiss you again. This time pulling his hand back to slide it into your mouth instead, making you gag when his fingers hit the back of your throat. You taste heady, a little musky, and lick your lips for the thin thread of spit when he pulls back.
“Alright, say thank you, Tsumu.”
“-thank you, Tsum-” you parrot, and also freeze under him when he goes to reposition himself and his cock head pushes at your sloppy, wet slit. “Wait- condom-”
“Shhh, just relax. If you freak out it’ll hurt ya.” He places one elbow next to your head, and lines himself up better, before starting to push into you already, and your leg jerks. He’s really big. Too big, you think, trying to take a deep breath as he starts breaking open your slick walls and slowly moving back and forth through it. “Aghh, that’s- it, that’s it, thatsithatsit-” He moans loudly, pushing your cheek up and kissing you back long and deep, tongues messily tangling and tasting each other, bumping noses as he fucks in, and in, and in. It pulls every thought out of you, every fiber filled with electricity. The tightness is painful, but you don’t want him to pull back, and judging by the way he groans into your mouth, he won’t anyway.
“You’re crazy if you think I’m fucking my tiny virgin cunt with a condom,” he pants when pulling back, eyes blown wide. His hand pushes your knee up more to stare at where you’re connected, before pulling back halfway and fucking back in, and the pressure on your womb and belly is enough to have you whining out so loud it barely sounds human. “That good, huh?” He bottoms out again, feels so fucking deep inside you that you can feel him high up in yourself bumping against your walls, and it feels so good, so, so good your toes curl and your knees lock around him.
“Fuck,” you can just barely gasp, before he pumps into you again, and starts really grinding himself into you. Slick drips out of you with each thrust, and makes the bed rattle under his weight. His hair sticks matt to his forehead, his lip pulled between his teeth, and the wet slapping of his hips meeting your skin is so distracting. Everything aches. Everything feels so good. You can barely even feel the sting anymore, jerking on his cock like you are. “Tsumu, I-”
“Gon’ have ta wait, princess,” he suddenly chokes, “yer clamping down on me like crazy— fuck.” He lifts one knee to push your legs open more, and then just shakes his head as he starts speeding up. “Oh, fuck it, gonna fill you up first. So fuckin’ tight, god, fuck-” The heavy thrusts go more sloppy, rapid as he chases his own orgasm and squeezes your thigh hard, yanking your teary cheeks back towards him as you pant to slide a finger between your lips and dropping a glob of his own spit into your mouth like it’s normal. Groaning into your mouth, and fucking his fat cock so deep into you you see stars. “One experience at a time, right?”
“Ah, Tsumu- p-please, fuck-me more, more, touch- more.” Your head rolls back as he pulls your hips back into him again and again, before suddenly locking up, and feeling how hot ropes of cum fill you up and he pants out your name in between a string of swears that all melt into a long growled moan as he stills. Only for a second though, because he’s quick to pull out and roll you back so that your knees are by your head, and he’s on top of you. He strokes his cock a few times, watching the last of the strings of thick cum land between your thighs. “Tsumu-” you pant, and take a breath, and pout- all at once. Because he stares at the way his cum comes out of your sloppy hole, before pushing it back inside. “Ughn-”
“Oh, don’t worry, baby. I’m not done. Not even close.” He spits onto his hand before bringing two fingers back to your pussy, and his thumb over your needy, puffy bud. And you jerk, blinks stuttering as you moan high and needy. Can’t help it. “Yer gonna wish I was done with ya long before I let ya out of this bed. I’m not done playing with my pussy.”
2K notes · View notes
beautifulfaaces · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media
Maia Reficco
Facts
July 14, 2000
Argentine American actress and singer
Filmography
Montana [Do Revenge: 2022]
Noa [Pretty Little Liars: Original Sin: 2022]
Lucky [Sometimes I Feel Like Dying: 2019]
Kally [Kally's Mashup: 2017-2018]
Appearance
brunette
brown eyes
1.57m
Roleplay
playable: teenager, young adult
Icons: Do Revenge
8 notes · View notes
y2kuromi · 12 days
Text
⭑ : 呪術廻戦 ❛ 𝗔𝗠𝗕𝗜𝗩𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗘 : satoru gojo x fem! reader
Tumblr media
࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 synopsis: you can’t shake the mixed feelings you have about satoru, but first impressions don't always reveal what a person is like
contents: crack? sashisu! dynamic. profanities. teen! gojo being cocky (what else is new?) second & third person pov
summer isn’t over yet! collection, can be read as a stand-alone
Tumblr media
your first day at jujutsu tech was anything but insipid. the sun was at its peak, golden rays reflecting off the gray asphalt and dousing the foothills of mount mushiro in pure light. the wind subtly tousled your hair and the crimson torii gate cast shadows on your face.
summer, was indubitably your favourite season. it came with fun. smiles. laughter. adventure. meeting new people. and most importantly freedom.
the days got longer, school got shorter and you were typically free to do whatever you pleased. however, that wasn’t the case this year. the taiyo clan leaders had forced you to accept the offer to attend tokyo jujutsu high and you stood impatiently beside masamichi yaga —your new teacher — while you waited for your classmates in the courtyard
"sorry about this" he says sheepishly, running an exasperated hand over his face "i told them to be here as early as possible, but i can barely keep them in check”
“what are they like?” you asked, smoothing your fingers over your pleated skirt, “do you have a photograph”
“i do oddly enough, shoko’s into photography so she takes these polaroids of everything and everyone” he sifts around in his pockets until his fingers graze the crumpled picture. "these are your classmates — suguru geto, satoru gojo, and shoko ieiri”
your eyes skimmed over the three first years, the first boy had deep violet eyes and long black hair scraped into a bun. he rested his chin in the divot of his palms, his ear smushed against his lithe fingers. his black pearl earrings reflected the fluorescent lights. "suguru" the name checked out. he did look like he was famous
the second boy "satoru" was his polar opposite with fluffy white hair that defied all forms of gravity. he was slumped against the wooden table, blacked out sunglasses propped against his nose.his bright blue eyes peered curiously over the lenses. they were almost startling, something about their intensity felt like he could see everything, everywhere all at once
the girl "shoko", balanced them out with her brown chin length hair and the mole underneath her right eye. an ivory unlit cigarette was nestled between her plush pink
“they seem… nice”
“shoko’s the nicest of the three, she’s a sweetheart so you’ll get along just fine” he muses, “suguru is usually a gentleman compared to satoru. satoru’s too full of himself and he’s a terrible influence, please try to keep on the straight and narrow”
“i will” you said, shifting from one foot to another. you were very nervous about meeting your classmates— especially the esteemed strongest whose birth alone shifted the balance of the jujutsu world. it almost seemed unreal that he went to the same school as you
hell, this whole thing seemed unreal. tokyo jujutsu high was bigger than you’d imagined. it was surrounded by the forests and was spread vastly over the mountain. there was no way you’d learn your way around.
you could see a figure approaching you from the distance. you figured it was ieiri, although her photograph didn’t do her enough justice. shoko was even more beautiful in person, her dark brown hair grazed her shoulders and curled around her ears. her eyes radiated sunlight, the colour of honeyed caramel and she smelled like jasmine and sandalwood. she waved at you, and you smiled in response.
“finally” he sighed, “ieiri what time do you call this? and where are those knuckleheads?”
"sorry i'm late sensei!" she says, bowing slightly, "i couldn't drag satoru and suguru out of bed, they stayed up late playing video games again"
"i'll have to confiscate the wii" yaga sighed, shaking his head before glancing at his watch. he seemed to visibly turn pale as he registered the time, "shoko could you take (y/n) on a tour of the campus?"
"aren't you supposed to be be the one doing that?” she asks, thumbing at the cigarette slotted between her lips, “not that i mind, i just hope you’re not slacking off again”
"kids these days," he mutters under his breath "i would be the one giving you a tour, but i need to head to kyoto for a meeting”
“if you say so” shoko hums, she squeezes your forearm gently before looping her arm through yours, “c’mon (y/n), you’re much better off with me anyways”
“funny” yaga deadpans, “i’m off now, try and introduce (y/n) to the others” with a final glance at his watch, he hastily makes his way down the foothills and out of sight
“i’m so glad we finally have another girl” shoko says, eyes twinkling, “you’re from the taiyo clan right?“
“yeahh i’m from the taiyo clan” you nodded. the two of you walked over the cobbled floors in sync until shoko came to a stop in front of one of the huge buildings
“can i take a photo for my album” she asks, plush pink lips moving around the cigarette slotted between them, “the uniform looks so good on you”
despite being reluctant to come here, you were glad the uniforms were customisable and yaga had perfected your requested alterations.
your asymmetrical navy blue jacket had the sailor suit style and a silky white bow hanging slightly above your chest . your jacket was tucked into a black skirt that hung above your knees, and you wore black knee-high socks and loafers.
“you can” you grinned, without wasting a mere second she angled her camera and attempted to capture your beauty to memory.
“i wish those idiots came with me, it would’ve been so cool to get one of all of us” she pouts, “you’ll meet them later, whenever they crawl out of their rooms”
she trudged nimbly up the cobbled stairs with splatters of fuzzy moss and into the traditionally built building you stood before.
“these are the classrooms” she gestures to the vast corridor lined with wooden sliding doors. some of them are pristine while the others have cracks lining the chipped wood
“there’s so many” you gawk, “y’know i thought jujutsu tech was really small, yaga said there were barely any students”
“it is really small” she laughs, “there are two second years and three first years, four now that you’re here. jujutsu sorcerers are rare so class sizes are really small. we only use two of the classrooms”
she slid the door to her left open, the classroom was filled with wooden desks and had a blackboard behind the podium you assumed was the teaching area
the windows were open and gusts of airy summer breeze wafted through the panes. you trailed in after her and noticed that most of the desks were upturned except three in the front row
“this is our classroom” shoko said, trailing her fingers over the desk in the middle. it had scribbled kanji and cartoony digimon sketches on it. “we come here for homeroom and regular classes”
“like math and science?” you asked, raising a brow. yaga hadn’t mentioned anything about formal education when he’d picked you up from the station that morning
“we do english too” she sighs, “it’s honestly such a pain. anyways, the school has training grounds, courtyards, dormitories, common rooms and a bunch of other stuff, what do you wanna see first?”
“the dorms” you hummed, tucking your hands into your skirt pockets, “they’re probably the closest to us”
essentially, you were right. the dorms were less than a minute away from the classroom block. the hallway was wide and had less doors than the classroom’s corridor. the wood looked freshly polished and cardboard signs hung on the sliding doors.
“so these are the dorms” shoko said, “they can be reorganized and decorated as you see fit. like the classrooms, there are many empty rooms”
you can hear the faint sound of heavy metal music and the sound of videogames seeping underneath the doors on your right
“the second years are further down the hallway” shoko says, “satoru and suguru are on the right and this is my room,”
she creaks the door open and you see a flash of pinky and earthy tones. it looks nice, although it’s rather messy. there are piles of clothes beside the window and old soda cans littered on her dresser
“i’m not really the neatest person ever” she giggles sheepishly, before sliding her door shut, “this room is yours, yaga put us next to each-other”
your hand rests on the doorknob, just as you’re about to slide it open you hear footsteps coming towards you.
your eyes fall on a girl with long blackish-purple hair in a traditional miko outfit. she seems mildly irritated and a girl with long blue-grey hair scraped into a ponytail trailed languidly behind her.
“shokoooo” utahime squeals, bounding joyfully towards her favourite first year. her long blackish-purple curls hang loosely in ringlets down her back and her brown eyes sparkled “have you seen that nuisance gojo?”
“no he's not out of his room yet” shoko said, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “what has he done now?”
“what hasn’t he done” utahime muttered under her breath, “‘m gonna fucking kill him this time i swear”
“that so?” mei-mei chuckles, “quit swearing in-front of the new first year utahime-san”
“is this the new first year?” utahime asks, snapping out of her angry daze and finally her brown eyes flicker over to you, “sorry about that, that imbecile brings out the worst in me”
“(y/n) this is utahime and this is mei-mei” shoko says, pointing at them respectively, “they’re the second years”
“nice to meet you taiyo” mei-mei hummed, her red painted lips stretched into a lazy smile as she held out her freshly manicured hand. you took it tentatively. “do you mind if we join your tour ieiri?”
“i don’t mind but you should really ask (y/n)” she shrugs
mei-mei shoots you an expectant look, you reciprocate with a nod, “i don’t mind, the more the merrier”
“yes!” mei-mei grins, “i love giving tours, let’s go to the common room and get something to eat”
“can you make us pancakes utahime-san” shoko pleads, batting her eyelashes and clasping her hands together, “or french toast”
“i will, as long as that moron doesn’t get to have any” utahime says, cracking her knuckles, “when i get wind of him i’ll-”
“so the school mainly fronts as a buddhist temple, which is why it has the traditional architectural style and several statues of deities, shrines, and torii gates around campus” mei-mei explained, interrupting utahime who looked very bristled
the quirk in her eyebrow faded into nothing but pure bliss as shoko looped her arm through hers. the pair trailed slowly behind you as mei-mei transversed down the hallway and up the stairs
Tumblr media
the rest of the morning is a slow sugary blur. utahime makes her famous pancakes and mei-mei happily explained jujutsu regulations to you while shoko showed you her photo album.
( it was a quarter full, with pictures of suguru and satoru goofing off or utahime and satoru in the midst of some altercation with a few rare photos of yaga sleeping)
“normies can’t see us because we’re hidden by a protective barrier held by tengen-sama, he lives under the school in the tombs of the star.” mei-mei says, after taking a bite of syrupy pancakes, “that’s pretty much everything you need to know”
“thank you for the pancakes utahime-san” you said between bites of fluffy goodness, “and thank you so much for the tour”
“don’t mention it” utahime grins, “consider this your official welcome to jujutsu tech”
the saccharine serenity shatters as satoru — and suguru — make their way into the kitchen. the blue eyed boy is still in his pyjamas while suguru’s dressed in what seems to be his uniform
“yooo” satoru yawns, “ouu hime you made pancakes? don’t mind if i do”
you peered at him curiously. was this the satoru gojo? the esteemed strongest whose birth alone shifted the balance of the jujutsu world? he seemed like an ordinary teenager. gangly legs, pale veiny hands, white unkempt hair, and blue eyes hidden behind weird sunglasses.
he didn’t look like much, childishly swiping a piece of pancake off utahime’s stack and quickly stuffing the sweet batter into his mouth
“you have some nerve-” she grumbled, throwing her fork at him. it bounces off some sort of invisible wall and falls beside his feet, “be more polite to your elders”
“is this the newbie?" satoru asks waving her off, you notice him take off his round sunglasses and his infinitely blue eyes are fixed on you
“i’m pretty sure she has a name” suguru says, nudging him with his elbow, trying and failing to salvage what was left of a good first impression.
“the rookie from the taiyo clan?” he asks, raising a perfectly arched brow “is this the girl yaga was talking about”
he was trying to make headway of your face, to see what you looked like. he was unsuccessful, your eyes were trained on your pancakes and the syrup pooling on the blue ceramic plate
“it’s (y/n)” shoko sighs, “and you were supposed to meet her earlier but you two refused to get out of bed”
“sorry about that (y/n)” geto offers, his apology seemed genuine and heartfelt, “we were up pretty late last night, otherwise we would’ve been there”
you finally looked up from your plate and shook your head before flashing suguru a heart-stopping smile, “you’re all good don’t worry”
for the first time in all fifteen and a half years of his life, satoru seemed to be at a loss for words. he knew he should probably apologise and try to make you view him in a better light. but he couldn’t find the words.
not that it mattered now. you shot him an icy glare as you stalked past him and dropped your plate in the sink. he feels shivers run down his spine.
"i want to show you the morgue and the cursed warehouse!" mei-mei says, throwing an arm over your shoulder, “we can pick out a tool for you”
satoru’s cerulean eyes snapped to yours, he saw a flicker of something he couldn’t quite place passing through them. it didn’t look positive. he sensed aversion, dislike, maybe even hatred?
"see you in a bit" you wave to your upperclassman, and shoko and suguru as mei-mei led you out of the common room. the friendly gesture doesn't extend to satoru. he blinks. once. twice. and then he finally snaps out of it
"she's beautiful holy shit" he whispers incredulously, shaking suguru by his shoulders. then his infinitely blue eyes are fixed on shoko "i would've gotten up if you told me that"
suguru shrugged him off, “you’ve ruined any chances you had of getting with her, i told you you needed to stop being so rude”
“i can fix this surely” he sounds panicked, “do i go after them? or should i wait until she’s alone-”
"what an imbecile" utahime bursts out laughing , slamming her fist down on the table as she shakes with laughter, “can you believe him?”
“you’re too full of yourself” shoko says, shaking her head, “rookie? newbie? that’s really bad even for you i’m sure she hates you now”
“can you blame her?” utahime quips, “it’s only natural to hate gojo” she pushed her chair back and smoothed a hand over her neatly pressed clothes, intending to start on the dishes.
“hate is a strong word” suguru pipes up, pulling out a seat, “they just got off on the wrong foot, classic satoru”
“not you too suguru” he whines, pooling into a puddle of despair and anguish on the tiled floor
“so dramatic” suguru mutters, scooping an untouched pancake off shoko’s plate. they exchanged glances as they watched satoru have an existential crisis beside the counter. summer was going to be interesting
Tumblr media
© Y2KUROMI 2024. please do not plagiarise, repost, or translate any of my works on here or any other websites.
323 notes · View notes
lvrgirl6999 · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
Forever ~ Dior Goodjohn x fem!reader
summary: you both are friends who secretly like each other
It was Friday night and you’re friends had asked you to come to a party with them, you wanted to stay in but they mentioned Dior was going to be there.
You changed you’re mind so fast, getting up changing into a black tank top, dark blue flare jeans and black converse.
As you finished tying your shoelaces you heard a honk outside.
Rushing out the house you jump in the car and drive off to the party with your friend.
——————————————————————-
You walk in into the party, the smell of sweaty teens and alcohol wafting through the air, your friend dragging you to the couch all your friends are waiting on.
You immediately lock eyes with Dior, her piercing brown eyes holding a look you can’t seem to recognize.
You smile a little before looking away.
——————————————————————
As the party continues you wander out to the backyard where only a few people are, seeing Dior sitting by the pool with a water bottle in her hand.
You walk up to her sitting down next to her.
She turns her head to you, smiling “hey.” you smile back at her.
“Hi.. uhm can we talk?” You ask nervously
She furrows her eyebrows a little “sure , what’s up?”
“Uh so you know how I’m always sorta awkward around you?”
You hesitate before continuing “and like shy?” She nods. “I have feelings for you and it’s ok if you don’t feel the same but I just wanted to tell you.” You say a little too fast but she doesn’t speak until she takes a deep breath, slightly smiling
“Really?”
“Yes.” you say looking the other way till you feel her hand on yours making you look at her again.
“Since when?” She asks.
You take a deep breath before exhaling.
“Since forever I guess. Uh- wait I mean like since we’ve met.”
She smiles fully now.
“I like you too. A lot.” she chuckles smiling.
“Actually? You really like me?” She nods still smiling.
You both just stare at each other till you start leaning in, your lips connecting like a puzzle.
You smile against her lips, her doing the same until your both breathless.
You laugh a little smiling. “Wanna go inside now?
“Yeah.” She says as you both get up, walking in the house, a few people passed out.
You both walk over to your friends hand in hand.
They all look at you both before exchanging looks, smiling.
“What?” You and Dior say in unison.
they all laugh before saying “we knew you guys were be together eventually.”
“Their definitely going to be together forever.” One friend says laughing.
You look at Dior, smiling.
You hoped you’d be together forever.
——————————————————————
OK WHAT ! FIRST ONE SHOT THING HOW DID I DO???
LEMME KNOW IF THERES ANY ERRORS OR ANYTHING !! (Feb 7, 2024, 5:31 p.m.)
(March 23, 2024, 3:27 a.m.): Heyy don’t mind the picture it’s for the aesthetic !!
306 notes · View notes
bimbobaggins69 · 5 months
Text
𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒇𝒊𝒍𝒕𝒉𝒚 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒔
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
priest eddie munson x nun reader
♱ summary: after a life of chaos and sin, eddie finds comfort in the one thing he never thought he would, religion. But what happens once he gives his life to god and swears off all of his old vices before finding the one person that makes him question whether it was worth it.
♱ warnings: smut ahead, 18+ mdni, fem reader, no use of y/n, use of pet names, religious themes, slight religious trauma, reader was forced to become a nun, mentions of drugs, fingering, unprotected p in v, slight lil daddy kink, cream pie, fluffff, overuse of italics but what else is new? Pls do not read if any of the above sounds offensive to you, you are in control of your own media consumption.
♱ authors note: just a little something to feed my priest eddie brainrot, hope you like! A special thank you to my beautiful beta’s @take-everything-you-can , @xxhellfirebunnyxx & @corrodedcorpses <3
♱ wc: 3.7k
Tumblr media
The first time Eddie had ever seen you, he thought it was a fluke. Of course he’d see the most beautiful girl, after he had taken a vow of chastity and was in the works to become a priest.
It felt as though God was taunting him for all of the sinning he had done as a teen and young adult. Dangling something he could now never have, right in front of his face. Oh, cruel world.
He should be used to this, the feelings of disappointment and utter longing. For most of high school and some time after, he was used. Used for the things he had that people wanted: sex, drugs, and the few rare instances girls dated him just to piss off their parents. But never has he been wanted, adored unconditionally. After living a life like that, filled with drug binges and meaningless sex, giving his life to God seemed like a no brainer, at the time.
Eddie was impulsive however and the things that felt clear as day in the moment, seemed to blur over time.
What Eddie didn’t know was that you had already planned your escape route. You had grudgingly been pressured by your late father to join the “family business”. He had become a priest when you were five and since then he’s had your life mapped out for you; become a nun, work in the monastery and give your life and soul to God until it was your time to eventually meet him.
That was not the life you wanted for yourself. You wanted to fall in love and get married, have children and move far away from this town that has brought you nothing but shame and guilt.
“Excuse me, uh I believe this belongs to you.” A voice echoes through the empty chapel, making your shoulders jolt at the startling interruption of your most sacred thoughts. Your veiless head snaps towards the voice in fear, as you were not to be in the church without your veil, it was a symbol of modesty that your convent took very seriously.
What you found was not an angry priest, deacon or catechist but a student priest. His kind eyes and gentle smile, long brown locks that were pulled back at the nape of his neck and his hands that were clutching at your head piece, had all simultaneously taken your breath away. There had never been anyone in the church that met his appearance. He had a bad boy turned good look that really set your insides ablaze. Whether it was a warning from God, not to stray from the path by allowing you to feel small licks of hellfire, or your subconscious begging for a reason to deviate from the life that was so carefully laid out for you, you didn't know but what you did know was this man would now become the catalyst of all your waking day dreams.
“Oh, yes my apologies, sir.” You softly smile before taking the veil and placing it securely on your head. You turn back to the big wooden cross hung above the altar you’re standing afront, before looking back into the strangers' doe pools of chocolate. “How uh, how are you enjoying your seminary studies?” You question, cheeks heating up at your terrible attempt at small talk.
“My seminary studies?” Eddie repeats with a low chuckle as his eyebrows shoot up, getting lost behind the fringe of his shaggy bangs. He cocks a wide smirk at your question, you really were as sweet and delicate as you looked. That made the future priests’ stomach flip in excitement. The need for corrupting such a cute little thing, vehemently returning. He hadn’t felt that utter desire in years. He would give this all up to watch you fall apart underneath him.
“Mmhm.” You giggle with a small nod of your head, fingers twisting together over your front from the frisson excitement bursting through your chest. You had never felt this way talking to any priests or priests in training, the rush was addicting.
“It’s going well.” The male murmurs with an unconvincing smile, his eyes glance down to your lips before snapping back up to your eyes in a fleeting moment. Your heart rate kicks up at the implication before you boldly turn towards him, your chest puffed out as the swell of your breasts are tightly hugged by the black fabric of your unflattering habit.
Eddie takes a step closer towards you, the toe of his boots brush against your black flats. His eyes roaming your fully clothed body as if he had x-ray vision and could see the black lace set you allow yourself to wear underneath, as an act of rebellion that only you were allowed a glimpse of.
His left hand slowly moves into your space, gently placing the cloth of your veil that had fallen over the front of your shoulder, back to its rightful place. The act was so tender and kind you couldn’t help but to lean closer into his touch.
The chapel was so still, all that could be heard was the heavy breathing of two very enamored people, as if they finally found what they had been looking for all along. A safe place to house their hearts.
In a matter of seconds you jerk back, as footsteps ring out from the corridor, startling you out of your love filled daze. Eddie thinks on his feet, the awfully close position being far too compromising, so he takes your hand and leads you into the confession box. He covers your mouth as the footsteps grow closer, two people chattering as they walk by before leaving out of the exit, letting the heavy wooden doors slam shut behind them.
Eddie quickly removes his hand, shooting you a sympathetic smile before the realization hits that you’re seated on his lap, half awakened cock digging into your backside causing a small gasp and unintentional clench of your thighs. A devious smile displays itself upon the brown eyed boy's lips, you wanted him just as bad as he wanted you. And he didn’t even know you. Oh he’s fucked.
His soft lips swiftly brush up against yours, making you quickly pull away in surprise. “I can’t kiss you, I don’t even know your name.” You whisper rather unconvincingly.
“It’s Eddie, what’s your name sweetheart?” He purrs into your ear, goosebumps alite your skin as you squirm in his lap from the low timber of his voice.
You meekly recite your name as your face grows hot from his attention. “Mmm, pretty name for an even prettier girl.” He huffs before he licks his lips in anticipation. His cock now fully hard and poking into your clothed skin.
Eddie gently grabs your chin, eyes meeting yours in a powerful standoff. “May I kiss you, angel? I really need to kiss you.” The desperation dripping from his voice is enough to convince you of anything.
“Yes.” You murmur before fully straddling him, his lips find yours in a passionate frenzy as you move together like a beautiful melody.
In all of your timidness and trepidation you’ve completely forgotten how it feels to be pressed up against another body, brain empty as you enjoy the moment as it comes, you giggle between kisses at the double entendre.
“What’s so funny, huh?” Eddie says playfully, grabbing at your sides and causing a shriek of loud laughter to roll off your tongue. How was it possible that this man made you feel like a kid again, a kid you didn’t even get to be? The fleeting nostalgia is quickly interrupted when Eddie puts a finger up to your lips, a gesture that asks “do you wanna get caught?” And it almost makes you giddy, nothing this exciting ever happens to you.
“You gotta be quiet, angel. Can you do that for me?” He asks in a dominating tone that has you shuttering and weak at the knees. He swipes a gentle finger across your lips, placing it in between the two before you quickly get the hint, wrapping your plush pink pillows around his index and lightly sucking. The action has Eddie’s eyes rolling back in his head, there was no way he’d be able to hold back, not with you grinding down on his painfully hard cock while sucking on his finger.
Without much thought left in your already fucked out brain, you remove the long black cloth that you’ve despised for years, yanking it off of your shoulders and over your head. Disposing of it over your shoulder without a care in the world, you had more pressing matters at hand.
“Oh fuck.” Eddie’s breath hitches as utter shock crosses his features, his mouth drops open while his eyes roam the expanse of your body that is scarcely covered by lacey black fabric. His cock twitches underneath you, causing you to squirm, unintentionally rubbing his throbbing pink tip over your warm heat and pulling a needy moan from between your lips.
He wastes no time, bringing his hands to rub over the see through fabric that is covering your now peaked nipples before slowly moving down in a gentle but callous glide over your sides, to your hips and finally landing on your plush thighs, giving them a tight squeeze as his lips curl up in satisfaction.
“Can I touch you, baby?” He whispers, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours as he desperately awaits your approval.
“Please.” You moan out into the expanse of the wooden box as you drag your slick cunt across his achingly hard cock in one more act of torment.
His fingers move before his brain, finding themselves between your legs, rubbing right over that button of pleasure that Eddie hasn’t been acquainted with, in what feels like years. He slips his hand past the black lace, digits sliding between your soaked lips and teasing at your tight little hole before he’s bringing the slick up to your swollen bud and drawing gentle circles, a loud moan erupts from your chest as the unknown pleasure consumes you.
You weren’t a virgin, despite what everyone thought of you or at least what you let them think. No one knew that you’d lost your virginity the summer of junior year. Maybe it was an act of rebellion against your strict parents or maybe just a sad attempt at being so starved for any kind of connection, you took the only one some high school boy had to offer; three minutes in the back of his beat up Pontiac.
The feelings being pulled from you by the long haired man, were unlike anything you’ve ever felt and you never wanted it to stop. You would beg and plead to him until the end of times to always make you feel this good, it’s the closest to God you’ve ever felt in all of your life, how is this a sin?
“Does that feel good, angel baby?” Eddie whispers into your ear, low and seductive as his finger finally breeches your entrance, it slips in easily and without pain but the pleasure makes your hands fly up to grip at his shoulders before throwing your head back and letting out the sexiest set of moans Eddie has ever had the delight of hearing.
He slips a second digit in alongside the first, pumping in and out at a slow pace but the depth is what had your toes curling into your little black flats that were being held on by a thread, threatening to fall off of your feet at just the slightest movement. Eddie began to scissor his fingers apart, stretching you open enough to take his girth. The moans that were beginning to fill the church were downright sinful.
“I-I think I’m gonna um…” you breathe out harshly as your cheeks heat up from the words that you just can’t bring yourself to utter.
“You’re gonna what, huh? You gotta talk to me, baby. Tell me what’s goin’ on?” Eddie asks in faux concern, it’s so mocking and arrogant but it causes you to clench tightly around his fingers, sucking him in like a fucking vice.
“I’m- ah ah, I’m gonna cum!” You sob into his chest as you grind down onto his digits, fucking them into you deeper with each thrust, until your incredible high starts to feel slightly painful and overstimulating.
“Such a good girl.” Eddie praises, slipping his two fingers out of your pussy before bringing them up to his mouth and sucking dramatically as a groan of delight reverberates from his chest.
“You think you can cum on daddy’s cock like that?” He questions, his lust filled eyes bore into yours as the filthy words drip from his tongue. You should be disgusted, it should turn your stomach…but it doesn’t, not even in the slightest. Instead it amplifies your arousal and now it’s you who is desperate, yanking his vestment off of his upper body in one swift and eager motion.
With Eddie’s full chest on display, you drag your nails gently down his torso, causing a whimper to slip past his lips. He has tattoos. The revelation causes your eyes to widen. You didn’t think priests were even allowed to have tattoos, they were a sin in your convent. Although you had been fed so much propaganda throughout the years, you really couldn’t see what made them so terrible.
And you had to admit they were very attractive, certainly adding to the whole former bad boy mystique he has going on.
“You like em’?” Eddie asks as if he knew exactly what you were thinking, a glint in his eyes as they lock with yours.
“I do, father Eddie.” You purr as your hand brushes over his hard erection still locked behind the confines of his black slacks.
“Fuck.” He hisses into your neck before leaving a trail of sloppy kisses, his hands reaching for your black lace thong as if he was going to slip it down and off of your body, but the sounds of fabric tearing alert you to his true intentions.
“I’ll replace those.” He says with a sinister chuckle, throwing the piece of fabric behind you to be lost in the sea of clothing beneath your feet.
“Holy shit!” The man gasps as his eyes meet your dripping center, the damp coils that sit above your mound and your little stretched hole that was done by his own hand. The view causes him to bite at his lip in animalistic hunger.
“Mmm, such a naughty boy using such foul language in a church.” You tut, having no idea where that came from but if his cheeks that have now grown a bright pink hue and the wild growl that slipped from his mouth were anything to go by, he was just as into it.
Eddie can’t take much more of your teasing so his hands slip down to the buckle keeping his slacks up, eagerly removing all of the obstacles that keep him from sheathing his cock deep into your tight little cunt.
Once he is fully released from his fabric confinement he wraps his hand around himself, giving it a few tugs before he’s smearing the large beads of precum around his tip and down his shaft, groaning from the attention he was so badly yearning for.
“You ready, baby?” He questions. Bringing his glistening, pink head to the seam of your sodden lips and rubbing the tip against your clit, before prodding it against your awaiting hole. The way your cunt sucks him in is heavenly. It was as if he was a virgin again, nothing or no one else mattered before you. The feelings settling in the young man's chest were overwhelming and terrifying but when he looked up from how his cock was coated in your wetness and into your eyes, he knew you felt it too.
You let out a breath of relief when he was finally buried to the hilt inside of you, throbbing and aching for release. Deciding to end the torment of your teasing, you begin using your knees that are roughly digging into the oak wood of the pew eddie is seated on as leverage to bounce and swirl your hips as you fuck him, so audaciously.
“Ah, ah, ah…” were the only noises leaving both of your mouths as you continuously sunk down onto Eddie’s cock. His big hands gripping the meat of your thighs as if you’d dissipate without his touch.
“Please.” You whine into the sweat slick skin of his neck, before reaching for the hair tie placed carelessly into a bun at his nape. You tug releasing his brown waves that fell just beneath his shoulders.
“Please what, my love?” That word made your head spin, you’d never been referred to as someone’s love. I mean you just met him and he probably says lots of endearing things while he’s getting laid, but it certainly made that fire in your belly kick up to blazing high levels.
“Please fuck me!” You sob, tears falling from your eyes as you get closer to your sweet release. But your legs were closer to finishing than you, as every bounce sent a searing pain from your knees up to your thighs.
“I’m sorry baby. I’m makin’ you do all the work, aren’t I?” Eddie teases with a condescending grin, making you pout and nod your head in agreement. “Here you are bein’ such a good girl, riding my cock like that and I don’t even have the decency to help you out.” He tuts, a wide smile splitting his face before the hands that were once resting on your thighs, come up and grab two rough handfuls of your ass.
He pulls your cheeks apart as he sinks down some, planting his heavy boot clad feet better onto the red carpet of the confessional box. He sends you a quick wink before he begins pounding into you with almost inhumanly, rapid thrusts making you cry out into the stuffy air.
Your hands dig into his scalp, grabbing fistfuls of hair as he fucks you like an animal, with complete carnal hunger. A chill runs down your spine all the way to your toes as the fire in your lower stomach begins to consume you. You don’t care who hears you now, you just care about you and Eddie and working each other's bodies to gratification.
“Your close baby, I can feel it. C’mon, let go for me and cum on my cock.” He demands as his length throbs with each clench of your walls around him. He’s too close, but he’d rather die than cum before you.
“Oh! Yes, Father Eddie.” You squeak before crashing your lips into his. The long haired man’s eyes roll back into his head and a growl escapes his chest at the use of his not so future title. If he can’t have this then being a priest just won’t do, not anymore.
Eddie breaks the passion fueled kiss to suck his thumb into his mouth, slicking it up before bringing it to your swollen clit. The first gentle circle makes you jump, causing your walls to tighten even harder around him. His toes curl in his boots, he was so close, so on the edge to stuffing you full of him.
“I’m gonna cum inside your pretty little pussy, do you want that?” He asks roughly, but his eyes are so soft and so full of adoration and you want whatever he’s willing to give you.
“Yes, please Father Eddie.” You plead as you meet his thrusts, aching legs be damned. You can feel that high that’s teetering so close, you’re so desperate to fall off the edge.
“Who’s the naughty one now, huh? Begging a church priest to cum inside you? You bad girl.” He tsks, with a faint chuckle. His words knock you over the edge, coming so hard on his cock you see a white blinding light as your eyes tightly shut.
“Mm, that’s it baby!” Eddie growls, his thrusts faltering as he cums inside of you, your walls now coated with his white, hot release.
Eddie scrubs his hands down his face, “oh my god!” He exasperates before wrapping his arms around your back and pulling you tightly into him, as his softening cock is still buried inside of you.
“Shh, you can’t use the lord's name in vain in a church!” You playfully reprimand, as if what you both have just done wasn’t grounds for going straight to hell.
“Hey, watch your mouth when you’re talkin’ to me, young lady! Or I’ll give you ten of these…” he scolds before bringing his palm down harshly onto the sensitive skin of your ass, making you gasp in surprise. He grabs your chin tightly before continuing, “and ten Hail Mary’s, I’ll make you say each one with my cock down your throat.” You clutch at your chest like you’d never been so offended, but the words caused you nothing but arousal as your cunt began to drip at the thought.
“You really are a naughty boy.” You purr, shaking your head as if in disappointment. You were both so deep in your own little world that you didn’t hear the footsteps outside the confessional door.
The handle was jiggled and quickly ripped open as a loud gasp rang out from behind you.
“Sister!” The nun hisses in absolute disbelief and disgust. The tone of her judgment awoke something deep inside of you that you thought had been buried. You hop off of Eddie’s lap, his spent cock plopping out and falling back onto his lower stomach. You quickly pull the habit over your head as Eddie stands up to inch himself back into his pants.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” The nun you now recognize as Sister Claudia, snarls with a look of revulsion.
Eddie swiftly takes your hand and pulls you away, abandoning your veil and his vestment. His now shirtless and tattooed chest on display for the judgmental nun.
Without another thought you throw her the middle finger as you and Eddie run down the row of pews and out the heavy doors.
You weren’t sure where you were headed, but as long as it was with him. You were ready for the new journey.
Tumblr media
982 notes · View notes
coeurify · 11 months
Text
THE PERFECT PAIR 2;
ELLIE WILLIAMS
Tumblr media
·˚ ༘ * “But don’t think we could help it, no"
pairing: bff!ellie williams x fem!reader. part one. summary: part TWO! you forgot to answer ellie, shes upset. you make up for it with a party, what could go wrong! wc 6.9k warnings: ig you could say slightly toxic friendship. ellies jealous. blink and you miss it jealous reader. almost.. sorta.. kinda kiss.. slight angst slight fluff.
Tumblr media
You dreamt of the past a lot. Ever since you were little, more often than not, your dreams were much different than the other kids around you. When they spoke about their dreams of dragons and kings, you could only pipe in with the nostalgic nighttime story of your most recent favorite memory that played like a film reel while you slept.
Tonight, you dreamt of Ellie. You dreamt of your noses pressed to the glass of your parent’s car window, heads tucked side by side as you pulled up to a building. Large bulky letters read out the museum's name on a sign in the blue sky. The sky was always more blue in your dreams.
You had been twelve— just turning Thirteen, mere months into meeting. Ellie’s hair was always pulled back into a ponytail back then, strands of deep reddish brown hair peeking out of the hair elastics. Even now, with the muddy and watercolor-like painting of your dream, you could count the freckles on dream Ellie’s cheeks. It was your birthday, and you had been carted with Ellie to the museum near your house. A promise of a day full of Ellie laughing and tugging you around to explain the space section to you ensued.
You dreamt of Ellie’s slightly sweaty palm intertwined with your own as she pulled you around the crowded floors, gasping as she swore under her breath at every exciting exhibit. You would hush her each time, hitting her arm— just like you still did today.
You dreamt of your favorite exhibit. The one that made you love the stars so much. You had entered a dark room, only you and Ellie. Her voice was hushed as she pointed out different star patterns painted in glowing colors on the wall. That was the moment you knew you wanted Ellie to be your best friend.
You dreamt of the green Dinosaur plush Ellie had paid for with crumbled-up money in the back pocket of her jeans at the gift shop. The one she had shoved into your arms and exclaimed, “Happy Birthday!”
When you woke up, your face was pressed into that exact stuffed animal. Though the once soft fur was a bit rough now, almost seven years older, it was still more comfortable than the pillows below your head. It still held that sense of nostalgia you laid to rest every night that other options didn’t.
Your eyes squeeze before they open, arms reaching to pull the dinosaur against your chest instead. You imagine it’s just as new as it had been the day Ellie got it for you. You imagine the sky is as blue as it was in your dream, that you and El were still those carefree pre-teens. But then your alarm goes off.
Fucking Mondays. Blinking a few times to adjust to the light pouring into your eyes, you reach blindly for your phone. Fingers wrap around it a moment later, the bright screen causing another wave of blurriness to your sleepy eyes. Even through the patchy vision, it's clear that you have a few notifications.
From Ellie.
Multiple. From last night.
“Fuck,” you groan out loud this time, gaining the attention of Dina from across the room. She’s already sitting up, scribbling away in a notebook that you assume to be rushed classwork.
“You ok?”
A hand comes to wipe across your face, rubbing the skin of your cheek gently. Dina asking is sweet, but you struggle to answer honestly. “I'm good, yea. I just have to see Ellie.”
You’re up and out of bed before Dina can ask further questions, stomach turning as you look at your phone screen again. The three separate texts make you feel a little sick, especially the last one that came hours later— likely when Ellie was already frustrated.
It shouldn’t make you so queasy, something as simple as sleeping through texts. But it was Ellie. You never missed Ellie’s texts like that. Especially not her asking you to come over.
You trip over the small rug near your bed as you rush to the connected bathroom to change, earning a gasped laugh from your roommate.
“Jesus, slow down,” she calls to you through the shut bathroom door, but you’re too focused on the task currently at hand— pulling the shirt over your head without bumping into something else.
Dina watches your panicked-looking face as you step back out into the floor of your shared bedroom a few moments later, her lips pursing in confusion.
“Did Ellie die or something?” Dina jokes with curious seeming eyes, pressing her notebook closed. “You’re running around like a chicken with its head cut off.”
You shake your head with a small half-assed smile, “No- I just uh- I forgot I promised to meet her this morning,” it seemed easier to lie than to admit your heart was in your throat because you slept through a movie invitation. Your hand goes for the sweatshirt bunched up on the floor, pressing your fingers into the cloth of the grey sleeves. It was a bit too warm to wear it, you know that, but there's a sense of comfort that soothes the aching in your stomach when it's pulled over your head, and you move to the door.
“Hey,” Dina pipes up as you step across the threshold, “Jesse and I are going to a friend’s tonight, Danny. He’s got some off campus apartment he’s having a little party at. Do you... Wanna come?” The question falls from Dina’s lips simply, her attention moving from your eyes to the top she's readjusts after a night of sleep. But the way her gaze flicks up a few times tells you that this was an important question for the brunette.
“On a Monday?”
“Oh!” your roommate’s nose crinkles as she mulls over the fact that yes-- it was in fact a Monday, which wasn't exactly the perfect day for a party. “Yea, I guess that’s not helping my case hm? I promise it won't be crazy. Dan’s friends are chill.”
You think about it for a second, shifting from one foot to another. It was a good opportunity to get closer to Dina. To maybe make some new friends you had come to have missing space for after Jade and you stopped talking, putting you down her and all her friends. But it was a Monday, and you definitely couldn’t have a hangover for your sociology lecture on Tuesday. Instead of pointing any of this out though, you find yourself instead asking...
“Can I bring Ellie?”
It seemed Dina was expecting this question, waving a hand your way. “Yea, I already told Jesse it’d be two people.” For some reason, that admission has your neck feeling a little hot. Your eyes find the wall to try and cover the awkward noise your throat makes.
“Ok.. yea, cool. I should be able to go. My last class is like three today.” Your feet bounce just lightly as you speak, which Dina notices.
Dina smiles, clapping her hands together. “Great. Now shoo before you start vibrating in your spot or something.”
You nod, offering another smile before your dash out into the hallway. Instead of turning and heading for Ellie’s dorm, you make a beeline for the elevator. It was early in the morning. Too early to show up pounding at Ellie’s door when she was likely grumpy from the sun and the previous night. No, you needed a peace offering.
﹒ ♡₊˚﹕﹒₊﹕﹒₊˚
That peace offering came in the shape of slightly cold dorm cafeteria french toast and waffles, tucked into a styrofoam takeout box. It was Ellie’s favorite, but she always woke up too late for them. Stingy college kids always stole them all before the first 9 am classes even started.
You held the styrofoam in your free hand as you reached forward to knock at the door. Before you could, it flew open-- both you and the person at the door jumping. You are met with the sight of dark hair and wide blinking brown eyes. Rose. They smile apologetically at you, repeating your name and different versions of ‘sorry’ as they press past you to get through the door.
Ellie’s roommate was sweet, but they were always running around with something to do, so you didn’t see much of them. At this point, Rose didn’t even question why you were always at their dorm-- you probably spent more time there anyway.
Your eyes follow as Rose hurries down the hallway, a nice distraction to the shuffling you hear from inside the now open door. “Hello?” a groggy voice asks. It forces you to look back to the doorway, met with the sight of a very sleepy looking Ellie. Her arms are crossed over her comic teeshirt-clad chest, hair messy behind her ears. You find yourself focusing on the straight line her lips are pulled into, and then the crease in between her furrowed eyebrows. You wonder for a moment if pressing your thumb to it would smooth it out.
“Hi..” you try, blinking at her as both your bodies shift into the dorm.
For a moment, it’s silent. You look around the dimly lit dorm you had seen a hundred times, acting like it was a brand new vision so you didn’t have to look at Ellie. Eventually though, you suck in a breath.
“You totally ignored my te-”
“I didn't see your tex-”
The two sentences lap over each other in unison, messy and rushed. Both voices are cut short when the opposite peaks. You let Ellie finish first, your mouth sealed shut.
“You ignored me last night,” Ellie mumbles, stepping toward her side of the room. The posters that cover the corner near her bed are starting to peel at the sides a little, and you have to fight the urge to ask if she has tape. Now is definitely not the time.
“I was talking to Dina then fell asleep, didn't ignore you,” you correct your friend, footsteps following her own. You still grip the take-out box as you watch Ellie tug a hair tie off her desk, fingers (you oddly couldn’t look away from) pulling the hair up into the usual bun.
“It was like barely even six or something, but whatever, I get it, roommate shit,” Ellie muttered-- as if she didn't know the exact time you stopped answering. As if she hadn’t had a mini breakdown over having to watch a shitty action movie alone.
You find a slight flame of annoyance in your gut, mixing with the guilt already settling there. “Ellie, I was tired I fell asleep. I'm sorry.”
Ellie, stubborn as ever, shrugs. “Yea, it’s whatever.”
“Don’t be like that,” you whine, hand reaching to grab at her wrist. The touch burns, even more when she pulls it away.
“I’m not being like anything.”
You groan, and the childish urge to stomp comes to mind, but you ignore it. “You're being all.. passive-aggressive.”
“I’m not. I said it’s ok, peach. Just stop.”
The nickname is a blatant attempt to make her annoyed tone a little less severe, something to ease the growing tension. You would like to say it didn’t work, but it did. You and Ellie were much better at avoiding the issues than dealing with them. Usually, they were painted over with sweet nicknames or offers to go out and do something. It always worked. You relax slightly and hold out the box for Ellie to see.
“I brought a peace offering. Knew you’d be all grumpy.” you wave the food box a little, pressing it closer to her chest.
Ellie scoffs as she grabs the box and sits on her bed. “I am not grumpy,” she mutters with a very grumpy-looking frown.
You kick a dirty shirt away from her bed as you sit next to her, settling on the blanket and watching her open the box.
“Waffles.. fuck yea!” She grabbed the waffle with her hands, like there wasn't a fork right there with the box, and bit into it. It makes your lip curl a little, but morning Ellie was not someone to be messed with, so you say nothing. Instead, you look around the room, your fingers playing with the sleeve of your sweatshirt. Not sure what to say next, you lick your lips.
“Uh, good peace offering?” Ellie nods in response, swallowing a mouth full of lukewarm waffle before speaking.
“I’ll give it a 5.5/10.”
You make a shocked face, mouth dropping open. “A five? I fought off like three hungover guys for these!” you shove her shoulder, earning a grumble.
“Yea, and you made me watch a movie alone,” Ellie takes another bite of her waffle.
The light feeling that began to build had dropped as quickly as your heart, a lump in your throat. “Yea, my bad.”
Ellie looks at you, jade eyes moving around your face as she swallows. “ ‘m joking, thank you..” her tone is just a tad softer, but you still feel all too itchy now, an urge to get up and go settling over your frame.
You nod, a slightly fake raise of your lips attempting to comfort her as you stand, “I have to get ready for class, but uh, I sort of told Dina we’d go to a party...Would that be a better peace offering?”
“Its a mon-”
“I know, I know, but please, El, I really wanna get close with Dina,” your voice borders on a beg, fingers pinching at your sweatshirt. “Weren’t you the one who encouraged me to?”
Ellie sighs at that, shrugging her shoulders. “Yeah, I guess I was. Shit- fine. But my astronomy class gets out later than your English. I cant drive you.”
It made you want to smile, the way Ellie had already memorized both of your schedules. The earlier discomfort from her slight attitude melted away as something warmer bloomed in your stomach.
Maybe you and Ellie were a bit dramatic. You had been told that many times actually. The way you could get so upset at each other for something simple and yet still fall all over each other the moment something sweet happened. Sometimes you wonder if other friends have these turbulent of feelings for each other, but you ignore it with a nod. “That’s fine. I’ll catch a ride with Dina.”
Ellie turns her head momentarily, shrugging and covering a slightly noticeable pout with an awkward reach for the french toast in the takeout box. “Just text me the address.”
You nod, saluting Ellie as you step into the dorm door. “Will do.”
Ellie rolls her eyes and shoos you off, “Get going.”
“Bye, love you El!” you shout through the door. The loving words came easily, something you had said every so often ever since you two were younger. Ellie didn’t say it as much, but you didn’t mind.
“Bye, peach,” Ellie called, the nickname receiving an eye roll. One she couldn’t see this time.
﹒ ♡₊˚﹕﹒₊﹕﹒₊˚
4:30 pm came too soon. By then, you were back at your dorm, shoving a stack of books on your already messy desk and flopping back on your bed.
“Who even has a party at 6 pm on a Monday?” you question your roommate, who was currently fixing the mascara she had applied. You words flow over the soft music Dina had turned on, a low hum from her desk.
“College students who have a slight alcohol dependency,” Dina shrugged.
“Fair enough,” you laugh, flipping onto your stomach to watch her walk around the orange-lit room. You hadn’t even begun to get up and get ready, focused instead on watching your roommate’s routine as she walked around.
“It's only gonna be like fifteen people or something,” Dina shrugs as she pulls out a chapstick tube, applying it over her lips.
“Hm..” you nod like that made it any better. Fifteen people you had probably never met before, when you were tired from classes. Yea. You would definitely need a drink.
Dina looked over at you, a grin spreading on her lips as she walked over to you, her fingers gripping your wrist. “Get up. Jesse’s gonna be here soon!”
“I don’t even know what to wear,” you whine, letting your roommate drag you into a sitting position as you meet her eyes. They narrow, and she tugs you again, this time to stand.
“Just wear that! Well, take off the sweatshirt but jeans and a shirt is fine. That’s what I'm wearing.” Dina shrugs as she lets her fingers reach for the bottom of your sweatshirt, the pout never leaving your lips. You didn’t want to remove it, but she urged you to with a friendly tug.
“C'mon, show me your closet. I’ll help you pick a shirt.”
﹒ ♡₊˚﹕﹒₊﹕﹒₊˚
When you got into the back of Jesse’s car, you completely shut down. Your lips were shut so long you swore they may have stuck together. He was friendly, sure! He cracked jokes you betted Ellie would laugh at, he complimented Dina’s outfit as soon as you got in the car, and grinned when you introduced yourself. But you had taken more than a week to openly speak to your roommate, so her boyfriend wasn’t exactly the easiest to chat to.
Dina didn’t mind, making sure to include you every now and again in whatever conversation the two had going, smiling back at you from the passenger seat as you pressed into the black cushion of Jesse’s car. You found yourself staring out the window, eyes flitting over each street lamp they passed, watching as the sky dimmed just lightly as the minutes seemed to drag by.
Eventually, the car stopped outside an apartment complex, and you peered through the glass at the tall buildings. Jesse pulled the keys from the car as he rushed out and around the other side. It was too late for what he was planning, Dina opening the door right as he reached for it, in turn smacking the metal door right in the stomach and face.
“Ow! Babe!”
Dina covered her mouth with a hand, a muffled snicker only slightly concealed. “Why the fuck did you run into the door?”
Jesse looked at his girlfriend incredulously, rubbing his sore nose, “I was trying to be a gentleman!”
“Since when were you a gentleman?” Dina questioned as she stepped out of the car; you only a moment behind as your feet found the gravel under you.
Jesse calls your name, eyes directed at you. “C’mon. Back me up. You saw me going to open the door right?”
Your nose scrunched, lips parting for the first time in too long, “I kinda did, yea..”
The boy makes a quick motion with his hands to say ‘see?’, Dina shakes her head as she steps back, arm looping yours. The touch makes you stiffen a bit, but Dina’s always warm smile calms you.
“Stop using my roommate in your little lies,” she muttered, though the smile never faltered as you walked up to a ground-floor apartment door. Jesse mumbles a few nonserious complaints as he knocks at the wooden door.
It opens quickly, a ginger guy who seemed about your age answering, cheeks full of freckles raising into a smile. It makes you wonder when Ellie will be here.
“Dee! Jesse!” The boy greets, eyes finding yours, “Oh and Dee’s roommate!”
Dina rolls her eyes as she pulls you inside the cooled apartment, your skin pricking slightly. At least it wasn’t humid like all those frat parties Jade brought you to. You still find yourself wishing you had your sweatshirt, though. “She's got a name, Danny..” your roommate chastises before introducing you two.
“Her friend’s coming later,” Dina explains as she leads you into a living room that looks much too small to house fifteen or so tipsy college students. You guess the attached kitchen will act as more space, with a few plates of snacks and bottles already stacked on the island.
You let the conversation that begins between the three friends about when everyone will be here filter out as you explore the area with your eyes. A couch and a few seats... you could probably hide away on one of those..
Your plan to avoid human contact is quickly ended when Jesse shoves a glass in front of your face, “Drink?”
Your fingers wrap around the glass without a second thought. Alcohol was your friend tonight, the only one until Ellie arrived. Usually, the only two things that could make you talkative, you had to settle for it. “Thanks,” you mumble, groaning as the taste of Titos with too little coke finds your throat.
Ok, you could do this.
﹒ ♡₊˚﹕﹒₊﹕﹒₊˚
Ellie couldn’t decide what flannel to wear. Maybe that sounds crazy. It’s a flannel, not a suit— for some small get-together. But she wondered which you would recognize first. Not that she cared about you liking her clothes or anything.
This indecision is what got her in the current situation, sitting outside the address you had given with two flannels in her hand.
Her car was cold, and the wifepleaser she wore without any coverage didn’t exactly stop the goosebumps from finding her skin. A scowl came to her face as she inspected the brown and blue shirts.
“Fuck it,” she groaned, tossing both options into her passenger side as she instead leaned over to the back, grabbing the black sweatshirt she’d worn to classes today. Ellie brought it to her nose, checking it didn’t smell or anything— and shrugged. “Good enough,” she muttered to herself before pulling it on and leaving the car.
It felt odd, to be walking up to a door she didn’t know, especially without you. She may be constantly telling you to put yourself out there, but Ellie was just a big hypocrite. It’s not like she really did anything totally spontaneous either, aside from a few club outings or drunk hookups. She had s lot to say about you putting yourself out here, but here she was, playing nervously with her fingers outside a party.
One quick check of the two of your texts confirmed the metal letters next to the door were correct, so she knocked rather harshly.
Immediately Ellie regretted that, cheeks pink as she pulled the hand away. There's a chorus of voices and shuffling behind the wood, and Ellie finds herself searching for yours.
Instead, a taller man opens the door, black hair messy, cheeks slightly flushed from what Ellie assumes to be drinks.
“Hey, uh—“ his head turns, searching behind him. Ellie thinks she may slam her head on the wall right then, embarrassed by the obvious fact this guy had no fucking clue who Ellie was.
The embarrassment from this didn’t last long; the man stepped to the side slightly as a booming voice interrupted them. This embarrassment cut much deeper into Ellie’s stomach. It painted her cheeks bright red.
“ELLIEEEE!” a voice shouts. She finds you, eyes wide and smile on your face as you open your arms. Oh you are so fucking drunk, aren’t you? You rush toward the auburn-haired girl, wrapping her into a tight hug, your arms pressing around her in a way that had her cursing her family for passing over the wobbly knees over pretty girls gene.
God, she has got to stop calling you pretty.
Ellie stumbles back with the force of your attack, patting your back awkwardly as her chin juts down to your shoulder.
Ellie's eyes meet the black-haired guy again, “She drunk?” she asks as you sway the both of you. The way you shove her chest and scoff gives her an answer. You only got offended at the accusation when you were drunk.
“I am not drunk! Just a little tipsy.”
The guy behind you makes a ’so so’ motion with his hand, drawing a grin out of Ellie.
“Righttt..” Ellie nods, letting you unwrap yourself from her. She watches as your head turns, “Oh! Ellie, this is Jesse, Dina’s boyfriend.. Jesse, this is Ellie,” you make a few awkward looks between the two, huffing.
Jesse smiles at Ellie, nodding his head to the hall. “I’ll meet you two in the living room!”
“Yea, yea sure,” Ellie nods and smiles the best she can manage when you trip over your feet back into her. The annoyance that had layered her being earlier in the morning was steadily decreasing as your eyelashes fluttered, staring at you. How could she stay angry at you for .. ‘missing’.. her texts when you looked so pr—
So nice.
“They’re so cool, El,” you whispered to her, hand finding her arm. You had a tendency of becoming touchy when you got a drink or two in you, and usually that affected Ellie, the one closest to you most times. “Yea?” she asks in response
It wasn’t like Ellie minded it. If anything, she would rather it be here you got all.. grabby with. A memory of you clinging to Jade a few times last year came to the forefront of Ellie’s ever-moving mind, making bile rise in her throat. Instead of thinking about why, she just bumped your shoulder, eyeing the shirt you wore. It wasn’t your usual style, nor a shirt she had seen you wear before. You seemed to notice Ellie’s gaze, clapping a hand on the red fabric.
“It’s Dina’s,” you explain, leading Ellie into a now slightly stuffy living room. The porch door was open now. A few people squished into the small outdoor space, and a few others in the kitchen. Though the main group was all huddled on the couches, chatting and laughing in a way that seemed much too close for Ellie and you to interrupt.
Even in your tipsy state, Ellie felt you shy away slightly, until Dina’s head popped up from a seat and grinned. “Over there,” you hum— again dragging Ellie with you.
Ellie kind of knew Dina. In a ‘I have a class or two with you and we have smiled at each other in the dorm hallway’ sort of way, due only to the shared face they both knew— you. Dina seemed sweet enough, even if you hadn’t yet babbled about that to Ellie.
Dina seemed nice, so Ellie shouldn’t feel a swoop in her stomach when you returned the smile to your roommate, but she did. The feeling bubbles in Ellie’s throat for only a moment before she swallows it down with a huff as you pull her to sit on her couch.
“Hey, Ellie,” Dina greets the girl when the two of you sit, her mouth then coming to wrap around the cup in her hand.
“Hey, Dina,” Ellie nods her head, looking around at the group.
You pipe in before the silence can get too awkward, a grin lacing your pretty lips. “Dina and Jesse were arguing over what movie to watch b’fore you got here,” you explain, head leaning toward Ellie’s shoulder. She moves it before your cheek can find the sweatshirt clad skin, a frown replacing the curl of your lips.
Dina uses this as an opportunity to delve right back into what seemed to be a half hearted argument, head shaking. “He wants to watch Jurassic Park for the like fifteenth fucking time,” she glared at Jesse, who Ellie could guess was her boyfriend.
“Hey,” Ellie butts in, “Jurassic Park is good.”
“Thank you!” Jesse shouts. “Someone with good fucking taste!”
Dina scoffed, “Maybe the first time, not the fifteenth. I said we should watch a horror movie,” the ponytail-wearing girl explained. Ellie is listening to the argument, sure, but she’s mainly focused on how your cheeks raise a bit every time either of the couple says something funny.
“Ellie,” a voice calls the girl out of her little daze, green eyes finding the lips that had asked the question, Dina’s.
“Huh?”
“I asked what your favorite movie is. Jesse thinks you must have great taste since you like Jurassic Park.”
“Shawshank Redemption,” Ellie says without thinking— the answer she always gave when people asked.
You make a noise beside her, shaking your head quickly. “Oh fuck off Ellie,” your eyes find Dina and Jesse, “She’s totally lying. Just saying that ‘cuz Joel likes it, and it’s not lame.”
The couple doesn’t question who Joel is, but the little comment has Ellie biting her lip in embarrassment.
“Her favorite movie is like—the Star Wars prequels,” you continue.
“they are not!” Ellie quickly shouts, shoving you. Dina smiles a little at the act, sharing a glance with Jesse that has Ellie looking a little flushed.
“You’re just saying that because I told you It was one of the movies that made me gay,” Ellie accuses, making you roll your eyes.
“You made me watch that shit every Friday for like two years cause of Padme. Think we’ve watched shawshank like once. And it was with Joel.”
“Oooh, your girl’s calling you a liar,” Jesse whistled, leaning forward from his place perched on the side of the couch.
Your girl. The words wrap around Ellie’s throat in a way that makes it hard to breathe, nails of each syllable digging into the freckles in her neck.
Don't go there.
“She thinks I lie about everything, worst friend ever,” Ellie sighs, the friend part coming out a little too forced.
“I am the best friend ever,” you shake your head, “You just lie a lot.”
“I’ve never lied in my whole life!”
Ellie is met with a harsh pinch on her arm, yelping as she feels the burn. “Ow!”
You stick your tongue out childishly, leaning into Dina to protect yourself when Ellie’s hand reaches out to punch you.
The fight is interrupted when a new person joins the group, ginger and tall. “We’re playing spin the bottle,” he points to the group forming on the carpet, Ellie’s nose tilting up a bit. Spin the bottle, really?
“Lameee,” Dina calls, arms wrapping around you as you gasp.
“Wait, no, that sounds fun! We should play!” you say, shocking both Ellie and Dina.
“We need to get vodka in you more often,” Dina claps your shoulder and raises into a more proper position. Ellie has to bite back an annoyed scoff. You definitely didn't need to be like this more often.
Sure, Ellie wanted you to find more comfort in being outgoing, but she didn’t want you to find that in the bottom of a cup of vodka and coke.
“El, play with us?” you question, eyeing the freckled face.
“Uh, yeah, sure.” She agrees, though it’s mostly so she can sit next to you and maybe mind-control the bottle to steer clear of your direction.
All three of you, followed by Jesse and then the ginger, stand and make your way to the smaller group on the ground. The ginger introduces them all, But Ellie isn't paying much mind. Instead, she focuses on getting you to sit without stumbling.
“How much vodka did you have, peach?” she mumbles against your ear so no one else can hear.
“Uh, like two mixed drinks? I'm fine, just overtired.” You push off her accusations of being drunk again, grinning lightly at her as if it would prove you were sober somehow.
Ellie doesn't respond, eyeing Dina as she takes the spot next to you on the other side, and then Jesse next to her. She was surprised the couple was playing, but the way Dina made an ‘Im watching you’ motion to Jesse told her enough they weren't taking the game too seriously.
It made her a bit jealous, how comfortable and.. not possessive a couple like that could be with each other. Yet here she was, a sick stomach just from the thought of a girl that was only her friend kissing someone. She needed to get a fucking grip.
“Ok, who first?” a brunette girl across from Ellie asks, eyeing the empty beer bottle in the middle. The ginger volunteered, and Ellie clocked out again.
She had no interest in watching a bunch of straight people kiss each other drunkenly, instead eyeing the posters and paintings on the living room walls. She took a few photos of space she recognized, and some movie posters that looked like they were from the 80’s. Whoever lived here seemed to have good taste. Ellie eyed the group curiously, wondering who it may be.
About five minutes later, Ellie returned to earth when someone said your name. “You wanna go next?” The ginger man asked, to which you nodded— thought a little less enthusiastically now. Maybe the vodka had begun to sweat its way out of you, or maybe watching a bunch of people kiss before now had made you a little less excited. Ellie couldn't be sure which.
Ellie watches as your fingers wrap around the bottle, shaking enough that only she would really notice. The girl thinks she may actually pass out from how hard she holds her breath.
When it begins to slow down, it’s almost right back to yourself, and Ellie starts to think she actually can mind control things. But instead, almost worse than it landing on anyone else, it lands right on her.
Everyone around you two whoops, and she can hear Dina’s voice carrying over everyone else’s.
It’s probably a little funny to look at the two reactions. Your face pulled into a shit-eating grin, puckering your lips and pressing your hands to the ground so you could lean closer. And then Ellie’s, face dropped like she had seen a ghost of a loser lesbian’s past.
Honestly, Ellie did—the ghost of a particular memory from her fifteenth year.
You lean in, nose brushing Ellie’s. Her ears go deaf, ringing as your breath puffs against her shaking lips. Right as they begin to touch, a fire rips between the small space of air there. A fire that has Ellie almost yelping out loud, pulling right back before she can taste the vanilla bean of your chapstick flavor.
“Hey!” you cry out, obviously not taking this as seriously as Ellie. No, you seemed more annoyed that she ruined the game. But she was pressing her fingers into the floor, burning from the way it hurt the flesh there to stop the hammering in her chest.
This was a totally normal reaction, Ellie decided, definitely.
“You ruined the game!” you cry, shoving Ellie’s shoulder enough to have her blinking quickly.
Dina shoves a shot glass in front of Ellie’s face before she can settle the heartbeat in her ears.
“You pussy out, you drink,” the brunette singsongs.
“I’m driving,” Ellie turns her head, standing up. Your eyes follow her, burning into the side of her cheek as she wipes sweaty palms on her jeans.
The mood dampens, but only for you and Ellie. The rest of the group goes back to playing. Ellie knows by the gasp that wafts through her pounding eardrums as she begins to walk away.
Soon, the stomping footsteps of your tipsy self follow behind. “El,” you whisper yell, grasping her arm. This time, Ellie lets you.
“Did I make you uncomfortable?” You ask, eyes searching the red-tinted freckles on her face. “I didn’t mean to. It was just a game. I'm just trying to impre—”
“It’s fine,” Ellie assures you, faking the best smile she can. It should be honest; she has no reason to be upset right now. But she is. Her chest aches with the urge to go back in time and just let you do it.
“I'm just really tired, not in the partying mood.”
“Then let's go home,” you say quickly, probably searching to ease the discomfort Ellie knows she’s radiating. “I’ll stay at your dorm tonight, ok?”
God, Ellie’s such a fucking goner.
“Yea, ok. You’re definitely drunk anyway.”
“I am not!” you pout, releasing Ellie from your bruising grip. “Let me go tell Dina, I’ll be back.”
Ellie watches as you trip a bit over your feet, a habit you really need to shake, and sighs.
The silent show is not long-lasting, the brunette from the circle earlier arriving at Ellie’s side. She had kind eyes, and a bottle of water in her hand.
“Hey, it’s Ellie right?” she asks. Ellie finds herself watching the blue in her eyes.
“Yea,” Ellie nodded.
“You taking her home?” the girl asks again, in reference to you. She hands the water bottle to Ellie. “Give her this, don’t think she’s had any.”
Ellie grips the water bottle, squeezing it a bit. “Uh, thanks.”
“No problem,” she grins, one almost like yours. “My roommate’s always throwing these things and then never giving people water,” the blue eyes roll.
Ellie perked up at that, “You live here?” She thinks again of the space decorations in the living room.
“Yeah!” the brunette smiles again, “Me and Danny. I'm Luna,” she explains.
“Oh shit, wait,” Ellie’s eyebrows furrow together, “Luna..” something clicks in the green-eyed girl’s mind. “We have that physics class together, don’t we?
Luna seemed a little flushed, “Oh.. y-yea-”
The rest of her sentence falls on deaf ears when you trample into the hallway again, all senses only honing in on you, like usual. You seem to pause for a moment, eyeing the two others in the hallway.
But soon, you’re moving right by Luna, arm wrapping around Ellie’s. “Told Dina, all good to go,” you wipe a hand over your face with a little dramatized yawn.
“Thank Luna,” Ellie says again before she grabs you right back, leading you out the front door.
“You have got to stop drinking vodka. You know how you get,” Ellie mutters against you when the cool night air hits her already raised skin.
“I wanted to have fun!”
“Yea, good luck with fun tomorrow at your lecture.”
“Skippingggg it,” you mumble as Ellie ushers you into the passenger seat, the door squeaking like usual. Your ass lifts to grab the two shirts under it. “Why are there flannels in here?”
“Uh—” Ellie flushes, “I dunno.” She shuts your door before getting into her own side.
“Mm..” you sigh, already pressing your cheek to the cold glass of her window. “Who was that girl you were talking to?” you ask as the purr of the engine starts. Ellie throws the water bottle in your lap.
“A classmate, drink that.”
You look at Ellie for a moment, and Ellie stares right back. “.. Ok.”
﹒ ♡₊˚﹕﹒₊﹕﹒₊˚
“Shhh,” Ellie mutters, ushering you through the dark dorm hallway. “Can I wear your bear shirt? The super oversized one?” you babble, knocking yourself into Ellie’s door with a yelp.
“You’re such a fucking dumbass,” Ellie snickers, making quick work of unlocking the door while you nurse the bump on your head.
“Shhhh!” you mock her, flipping the light switch of her dorm on. Your finger presses to your lip in a quiet motion, kicking your shoes off. Rose wasn't here, as usual.
Ellie’s throwing the shirt with a cartoon bear at you before you lift yourself back up, and you happily tug Dina’s shirt off. Ellie is flipping away before the fire in her chest can return, throwing a pair of sweatpants behind her head so she doesn’t have to look.
“Ow!” you cry, probably from a large jumble of grey fabric hitting you.
Ellie pulls off her sweatshirt and changes her jeans for some shorts, counting to sixty before she turns around. Just to be safe.
You were already lying in her bed, pressing on the right side near the wall, eyes fluttering shut.
Ellie watches you for a moment, watches how your fingers grip at one of the blankets on her bed, thumb rubbing over it. She noticed the self-soothing motion of that years ago, how you always rubbed something between your fingers. The sleeve of your shirt, a pillow corner, a blanket. Sometimes, Ellie wishes it was her arm you did it to instead.
Don't go there.
The light flicks off, drowning the room in only the hue that came from the little pink nightlight on her roommate’s side of the dorm. Ellie is sleepily making her way to the bed, eyes catching on your now sleeping figure.
Alcohol also made you sleep really fucking easy. Ellie learned that prom night when you fell asleep in the car to the afterparty.
She watches how your lips part slightly as you breathe, and swears out loud. “Fuck.”
Ellie is so fucked. She wanted to snap her fingers and get a do-over. Wanted to be back in that loud house, back to smelling the vodka on your breath as you leaned in. She wanted to try again.
But she can’t, and she shouldn’t. So she climbs into bed next to you, pulls the blanket from between your thumb, and lets you shift, turning in bed to face the wall. She lays the blanket over you and sucks in a shaky breath.
She watches your back and presses her eyes closed to try and remove the overwhelming vision of you that invades every single one of her waking moments. And the ones after that.
Ellie falls asleep watching your back, and wonders if that’s all she will ever get.
Tumblr media
series taglist: @darlingmisa @saintels @totheblood @elliewill @rxllingstones @elliesflower @hrtsellie @ellieluhme @darlingmisa @liabadoobee @muthafuckingstargirl @ribbonsouls @cretaceouss @bambiesfics @sl4t22 @callmekittenandyourmajesty @waywardpiratebird @starfaegirl @romantic-slaps-on-the-asss @haiixo @arcaneangstenjoyer @catkirkfan @lvrellie @gimalo135 @oatmilkchaii @corpsebridenightamare @oggystine93 @eddies-bat-tattoos @belliesgf @simiinthemirror @els-heart @iloverue @zourqz @ellitelesbo @bae-o-clock @elliesgff @gumdropkoo @sawaagyapong @gold-dustwomxn @jajsnjz @sleepyangelkami
1K notes · View notes