#the guys who WOULD date me are the ones that scare and or creep me out | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ashwhowrites · 2 years

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Eddie's girl

Plot- the party agreed on 1 thing only, do not let the new girl meet Eddie Munson (fluff)

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Steve and Robin were talking at the counter about his latest date. Well, Steve was, and Robin was mocking him.

“I'm telling you, she was insane. She poured half the container of salt on her noodles. Who goes to an Indian restaurant and gets buttered noodles? " Steve complained.

Robin rolled her eyes and said, "Jeez, Dingus, you have such real problems in the world." As she checked in, all the tapes were returned.

The pair's eyes rose when a shadow casted over the countertop. There stood the most gorgeous girl they had ever seen. She had her hair styled nicely, a smokey eye look, eyeliner sharp as a knife, and cherry red lips. Her arms were warmed by a leather jacket; a band tee lay underneath, and they guessed jeans would be covering her legs if they could see. Maybe a pair of sneakers to go with the look. She had her fingers decorated with chunky rings and black nails.

Steve felt drool hit the bottom of his chin. This girl looked like someone who knew how to ruin your life, and he wasn't mad about it.

Robin felt a blush creep on her cheeks. This girl looked like she'd ruined Robin's innocence with one touch, and she wasn't mad about it.

Then she spoke, and it sounded like heaven on earth. "Can you tell me where I can find the horror section?" Her voice was soft, in contrast to how she looked. She stood tall and confident.

The pair of them rushed to go around the counter. Robin stomped on Steve's toe to get ahead. She smiled proudly as Steve clenched his foot with a gasp.

"Follow me," Robin stated as she led the gorgeous girl to the section where horror movies were placed.

As Steve was checking her out, well, the movie as well. He spoke up, "So what's your name?" Robin leaned in close to hear the answer.

"Oh, it's Y/N." She answered with a smile. She could sense the pair were in awe of her, so she threw a wink on the way out the door.

"She so wants me." Steve melted into the floor.

"Please, the wink was for me," Robin scoffed.

Steve rolled his eyes, "geez Robin I must have missed the part when she said she was a lesbian. " Robin punched his arm and went on with their work day. Both are thinking about her.

~~~

Dustin was biking to the grocery store to pick up food for the cat. His mom was in some mood about being scared to leave the house, so a trip after school was on his radar.

Eddie offered to take him, but he felt like it would be an inconvenience to make him drive him to the store and then back to the school to get his bike, but he appreciated his offer.

Dustin was walking down aisle 3 when he collided with a body that was coming around the corner. The person dropped everything in their hands.

"I'm so sorry," he quickly apologized as he picked up the bags of popcorn and candy off the floor. He went to give him to the person when he looked up and saw the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen, including his ex-girlfriend Suzie.

With a sweet smile, she answered, "No worries, cutie." Dustin smiled, braced teeth and all. He could feel his cheeks turning red and butterflies in his stomach. She looked older and more mature, and he loved it.

He didn't realize he'd been staring until she waved her manicured hand in his face. He snapped out of it. "Oh yeah, sorry again. I'm Dustin. Are you new around here? " He asked. It's a small town, and he felt like he'd seen everyone.

That damn smile came across her face again. With a smirk, she held out her hand, "The name is Y/N and I'm in town for my spring break. I used to live here but moved for college. " He was in awe of how her voice comforted him like a hug. He could smell her sweet perfume as he shook her hand. It was soft and the cold metal of her rings made him shiver. He's a freshman and she's in college. It'd definitely never happen, but you can't blame a guy for having a crush.

~~~~

Lucas was practicing his shooting at the park when he saw a girl walking a dog. He was dribbling the ball with Jason when he caught her eyes. The ball was stolen by Jason, as he was distracted.

"Lucas bro, I stole that way too easily. You got to pay attention. " His words went on deaf ears. Jason looked at him, puzzled, and followed his gaze. And he understood now.

A girl wearing a small tank top, her belly button pierced. Tattoos covered her arms and bracelets lingered on her wrists. She was gorgeous. She was walking closer to them as her dog quickly moved ahead of her.

She got close enough that the pair could see she was generally beautiful. No makeup covered her skin. She was naturally breathtaking. Jason quickly threw the ball near her feet. He pretended it rolled there on its own. He jogged up with an apologetic expression, "Sorry, lost sight of the ball."

The girl looked up at me with a smile and said, "Oh, it's all good. Are you boys on a team or something?" She pointed to their basketball shirts with the team logo on them. Lucas ran over to join the conversation. "Yes, we are. Practicing for the championship game."

Jason quickly grabbed the ball and introduced himself, as well as Lucas. They both learned the girl's name was Y/N and she used to attend their high school when she lived here. Jason technically wasn't single anymore and Lucas had a complicated thing going on with Max, but you couldn't blame a guy for staring.

~~~

It's been two days since everyone was smitten by the girl in their heads. The group was meeting at the video store to wait for Steve and Robin to finish their shift before they headed to Steve's house for movie night.

When Dustin arrived, Robin and Steve seemed to be arguing.

" Steve I'm telling you, she's not interested in you. She was looking at me. " Robin huffed, to which Steve answered with an eye roll.

"Once again, Robin, nothing about her screamed lesbian."

"People don't always look like lesbians, you dingus."

Dustin cut in—"what are you two fighting about today?" He asked as he placed his hat on the counter.

Steve stood tall, "Well, this hot babe was totally checking me out and Robin had the nerve to think she was checking her out. Which she so was not. "

Dustin's eyes lit up as he remembered the beautiful stranger he ran into. “Speaking of hot babes, I ran into this gorgeous girl at the grocery store. She smelled like a flower. " He gushed.

Steve cringed, "Dude, that's weird." Dustin rolled his eyes and huffed.

"What's weird?" Lucas asked as he walked up.

"Dustin, smelling cute girls at the grocery store." Robin answered as she flipped through a magazine .

Lucas laughed and agreed. " I saw this hot chick covered in tattoos walking her dog the other day."

Robin began to wonder how randomly everyone was smitten by a girl. "Wait, all of us met a mysterious girl at the same time?" She asked out loud.

Everyone seemed confused about what she was asking. She rolled her eyes. "Guys, was her name Y/N?" To which everyone answered "yes" at once.

They all looked at one another.” Oh come on. Do you all like her? " Steve pouted.

"Like you had a chance, dude. I hear she's in college, too smart for you, " Dustin teased," to which Steve answered, "and too old for you." Dustin pouted at the truth in it. Lucas laughed, but it was cut off when Robin cut in,

"And you have a girlfriend, so no for you. Which leaves me left”. Lucas rolled his eyes.

All the guys said at the same time, "She's not a lesbian!" Robin held her arms up in surrender. " We don't know for sure." She tried to explain.

Then it all clicked in Steve's head. "Shit." He cussed. The group looked at him confused.

" She can't meet Eddie." He added to their confused stares. Dustin frowned, "Eddie's not a bad guy. Get over it."

Steve shook his head. " That's not what I meant. She is totally his type. The confidence, the tattoos, rings, leather jackets, and band tees. He'd go after her in a second. And with his looks, good hair, and dumb band, he'd so win. " Steve pouted harder as he crossed his arms.

" Agreed. Let's plan to keep her away from Eddie Munson. "

Speak of the devil, and he will appear."Keep who away from me?" He asked as he walked up to the group.

The group went dead silent. Eddie started to get confused as everyone refused to make eye contact with him. He almost felt like he hadn't said anything out loud when Steve spoke up. "Dustin's mom. She'd freak if she met you and wouldn't let you hang with Dustin anymore."

The group quickly agreed with nodding heads. Eddie frowned, "Why, what's wrong with me?" Well, that backfired. Now Steve felt like an ass and Dustin quickly tried to save him.

"Nothing at all. She's a very old-fashioned woman who thinks guys with long hair are no good. " Eddie nodded along, eyes questioning the group silently. He didn't believe a word that was said, but Lucas quickly turned the topic to basketball. And the weird interaction was not brought up again.

Until the same thing happened that night as the group watched their movies. When Eddie excused himself to go to the bathroom, the group was talking in quiet whispers. Laughing, giggling, and slight arguing. He couldn't make out a word they were saying, and by the time he was close enough, they all went silent. He watched them closely. Everyone was pretending not to notice his stare and acting like the movie was the most entertaining thing they'd seen. " What's going on?" Again, silence. "Guys, seriously?" No one spoke up. Eddie was starting to feel very unwelcome in a group he thought were his friends. He was quiet the rest of the night, just as they all had been.

The next day wasn't any better. Eddie was returning a horror film and was hoping to talk to Steve or Robin about what was going on. He spotted Robin, and she smiled at his entrance. He smiled back and handed over the movie .

Robin's smile was slapped off her face when she saw the title. It was the same exact movie Y/N rented a few days ago. She rolled her eyes. Another thing they'd have in common to talk about/

Eddie's big brown eyes didn't miss the smile vanish and eye roll. He felt his heart sting a bit in his chest. What has he done wrong? "Did I do something?" He quickly asked. Robin's head shot up with a quick smile. "Oh no nothing. I just hate this movie." and typed in the return. Her eyes were confused to see that it came up under Y/N's name. She eyed Eddie but kept quiet. The computer must have been glitching. She has not, nor has anyone seen them together. There's no way he'd met her and already had a date.

Eddie didn't quite believe Robin at all, but he let it go. As he headed to the shelves for a new film, he spotted Steve. "Hey Munson, how have you been?" Steve waved with a big smile.

Eddie eyed him suspiciously and said, " I'm fine. But what's up with you? And everyone else? You are all being weird with me."

Steve shot the idea down and said he was just imagining things. But Eddie knew for a fact he didn't imagine Steve looking over Eddie's shoulder, a big grin lighting up his face, then back to Eddie with fear. Eddie went to question him again when Steve grabbed Eddie's hand and dragged him to another aisle.

Steve couldn't let Y/N see he was talking with Eddie. She'd come over to say hi and fall in love with the curly head next to him. So he dragged him into another aisle. "I think these movies are a better fit." He wished he had looked at the aisle first, because they were smack in the middle of the little girls' section. The racks are filled with pink princesses and unicorns. Eddie coughed awkwardly.

"Yeah, little girl movies aren't quite my thing, Harrington." Steve laughed along, a blush on his cheeks. "You're right. Sorry about that. I thought you'd want to try something new. " And once he saw Y/N walk out the door, Steve quickly left the aisle without saying anything. Eddie felt his shoulders slump. There it was again. Leaving him in the dust without saying why.

~~~

Eddie went to the one person who he knew couldn't lie to him, Dustin. He cornered him in the hallway, by his locker. "Alright Dustin, tell me what's up with everyone before I shove your hat up your ass." He threatened

Dustin knew it was an empty threat, but he still shook in fear. A loud fake laugh left his throat, "Eddie, nothing is going on. You're just being silly. " Dustin was sweating underneath his hat. His palms were wet and his heart raced with anxiety. He wasn't good at lying to Eddie. It was like Eddie had these eyes that could see right through you. With another look, Dustin cracked.

“Okay, there's a new girl and she's totally hot. And everyone has a crush on her, and none of us can go after her, except Steve, which sucks. But we didn't want to tell you because you'd so be her type and we didn't want you to start dating her. Because then I'd have this crush on your girlfriend and later it would be weird when you got married and had ki-" Eddie cut off the kids' rambling with a hand to his mouth.

"Slow down. I have no idea who you are talking about, so I definitely won't be getting married next week. and seriously? You guys were so afraid of competition that you all iced me out. That's so stupid. "

Dustin nodded, "It does sound stupid when you say it out loud." Eddie let out a laugh. “I'm sorry. And I know they are too. "

Eddie winked at the apology and said, "I'm so going to use this against Harrington."

~~~

As Steve walked into work the next day, he was racked with anxiety. Robin could sense her friend was under great stress as he paced and stared down the door.

"What's wrong with you now?" She asked as she picked at her nails.

"I'm going to ask her out." Her head snapped up at that. She had a huge disagreement on her tongue when Y/N walked up. A huge smile was sent to the both of them.

Before she could say anything, Steve blurted out, "Would you go on a date with me?"

All three of them went silent. Y/N was caught off guard by the sudden question. Robin was shocked Steve got the words out, and Steve was amazed that it came out in a real sentence.

Before Y/N could speak up, a teasing voice came from behind her. laced with humor and mockery.

"Harrington, what are you doing asking out my girlfriend?" Eddie wrapped his arm around her shoulder with a smirk.

Robin and Steve's jaw dropped. Their heads were filled with questions. Before they could ask, Dustin was running in, "Steve I'm sorry I spilled. I couldn't hold it an-Eddie? Y/N? " He looked at them puzzled, then his eyes grew large as he saw them cuddled close.

"EDDIE ? Y/N? " He screamed. Eddie covered his ears and Y/N laughed. She was very confused about what was going on.

"Um, what's going on?" She spoke up, from underneath her boyfriend's arm.

"Steve was asking you out on a date, honey, and you didn't answer him yet." Eddie knew he sounded like an ass, but this was just too good. Everyone was smitten with his girlfriend, and he didn't blame them. He was hooked on her the second he met her in high school.

"I think we've got the answer, Eddie," Steve said, blushing. He spoke with a sharp tone.

"Wait, so you two are together? Since when? How do you know each other? " Robin asked, she thought Y/N was decently new to town.

"Oh Eddie, we go way back. We met in Hellfire during our sophomore year. We were best friends, then started dating in our junior year. We've been together since. " She smiled at the group. She loved talking about Eddie; it was one of her favorite things to do.

"You made a good impression, babe. You have gotten all my friends to crush on you within seconds of meeting you. " Edie smirked proudly. He finally had something in his life that everyone admired. And he was going to soak it all in.

Y/N blushed. She knew she was a pretty face, but she had no idea that everyone was so infatuated with her. "Wait baby, are these the friends that were making you upset?" She asked as she looked up into his eyes. She noticed his cheeks turning red. She embarrassed him. "Shit, sorry." She mumbled something into his neck as she shoved herself into his chest.

He cuddled her closer, "It's fine and yes, they are. They probably didn't want us to meet because you'd fall for my good looks and guitar skills. And Stevie here didn't want the competition. " Eddie smirked towards Steve, who sent a death glare to Dustin in return.

Y/N giggled at the explanation, "Well, for starters, Steve, you are a very handsome guy." Eddie cut her off with a pout, "Excuse me." She put her finger to his lips in return.

“And I am flattered, but Eddie is it for me and that won't change. And for the rest of you, Eddie adores you, and I wish you hadn't singled him out because of me. I was always scared of leaving him in this town because the people are shitty. But when he'd call me and talk about his favorite kid, Dustin, some chick named Buckley, and his new hellfire boys, I was so happy he had people to take care of him. So please continue to take care of him when I'm gone. "

The group felt even worse for leaving Eddie in the dark. Now knowing how much they meant to him, they all quickly apologized.

"Baby, that is even more embarrassing. We are leaving. " Eddie pouted as he grabbed her arm and led her to the door. She rolled her eyes and pecked his lips, which had turned into a frown. Feeling her lipstick mark on his lips caused him to smile. Eddie was never one for a quick kiss; he dove his tongue straight into her mouth without missing a beat. He heard gags from around him as he dove his hand into the back pocket of her tight jeans.

He pulled away and placed her ahead with his hand on her back as he was going to open the door. The door opened before them, and there stood Billy Hargrove. He checked Y/N up and down, and a smirk landed on his face.

Before he could even get a word out, the group and Eddie, all together, yelled "NO."

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fluff x reader

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goldsbitch · 4 months

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That one Bologna drive

part 2 to That one Christmas flight (strongly recommend reading that one first! made me so happy you guys liked this one, so let's continue!)

summary: They were suppose to not look for each other. So of course they didn't.

warnings: crushing hard, swear words I guess, typos probably

PS: y'all gonna hate me

Lando really wanted to keep his promise not to search for her online. He enjoyed the mystery and the option to keep this little encounter as a nice "why if". Until he didn't.

With the only information he had being her first name and the fact she was a student at Bologna university his private burner account was truly burning up. He must have seen every account of the current Bologna alumni. It was strange being on the other side of these pseudo stalker fan games. There were moments where he deactivated his account, to stop him from doomscrolling. And then there were nights when he did nothing but that.

He was fed up with the emptiness and shallow lifestyle that followed him. His friends were surprised, when he started to carry classical literature books with him. Since he hated those looks, decision to really keep all of this to himself had been made. It felt like a pose sometimes - he did not have to prove anything to anyone, he was fine as he was. But a strange feeling of wanting something more is hard to navigate when the life around you seems dead set in the current ways.

Weeks passed by with his eyes fixed on one moment in particular. The Imola Grand Prix. It felt like a cruel joke when he realized this circuit was a mere hour away from Bologna.

Lando was not sure if he was supposed to be proud or scared when finally found her account. At this point, it was hard to find a better expert on the social life of that university town. But it would be a massive lie, if he said he did not sprint up from his chair when he saw her in one of her friends insta story. Tagged.

He nearly DM'd her about 20 times. But, this was not the way it was supposed to feel. No. It seemed like a way better plan to ride up to Bologna and hang out at what seemed to be her favorite cafe / bar in the centre. If it was meant to be, he would run into her and it could all be called a second lucky accident.

He had an average start of the season. Maybe Imola would bring him luck one way or the other.

His plan was to ride up there the evening after his first practice - then the team debrief dragged until late hours. He hit the wall on the second day - his team made sure he went through all and every medical check up, no matter how much he protested. Then there was this and than that and suddenly he realized the only possible evening would be the Sunday one. He requested the latest flight him team would allow.

Finishing fourth felt like a joke, even though it was his best finish this season. Missing the podium by a mere second was a cruel of a metaphor.

Once he managed to run through all his duties, exhausted as truly was, he hit the road.

Within a half an hour, he was in what seemed her most favorite cafe, sitting on a bar stool, ordering a glass of white wine.

She was nowhere to be found. His heart jumped when her friends came in and sat outside, lighting their cigarettes. Lando waited. He had to laugh at himself, pathetic as he was right now. By his luck lately, she was probably in her bedroom sleeping, or worse - on a date with some Italian fuck boy. Going up to her friends and asking was absolutely not an option - he wanted to surprise her, not scare her and creep her out.

He left the bar after one hour for a stroll around. He walked around the lively square filled with young people sitting on the ground and having the time of their life, the one he saw hundreds of times on his screen. Who knew, maybe she'd be around somewhere. Jealousy swept over him, envying those who were fortunate enough to keep her company right now at this very moment. After one hour he was back for a second glass. But this time he heard his name being called loudly immediately as he stepped inside. All of his tired muscles tensed up in disbelief. And to continue with the theme of pure luck - it was an ordinary fan. The surprised guy with a Mercedes t-shirt insisted on a photo and signature. Lando smiled, signed and went back to his car.

He probably needed this closure.

Y/N was a person who prided herself on her principles. So when she and the mystery boy from that Christmas flight agreed upon not looking each other up, she kept herself away from doing so. Exam season and university life got in the way, providing a great distraction.

Only when she went on a date with what seemed to be a lovely French physics student, she allowed herself to think back to her encounter with Lando. That's when her internal facade fell apart. She spent the whole date imagining Lando would appear. He'd sit at a different table, right in her view, and then once her date would go on the toilet, they'd run away like little kids would do. They'd sit in a local park and laugh while sharing a bottle of wine. She knew he was somehow famous. He heart crushed at the thought that she was probably overshadowed by girls way prettier than her.

And then, on a random afternoon during a first study session the weather allowed her and her friends to spend outside, in one of the university gardens, one simple conversation she accidentaly overheard from the people sitting nearby, caused her to loose the last chance of keeping the meeting with Lando intact.

"Yeah, Lando Norris. Way hotter than Leclerc, I must say."

"I still don't understand why you love formula 1."

"They just know how to sell the story."

Surely, they were not talking about Lando. "Sure, there must be thousands of well known people called Lando," Y/N replied to her own question.

She took this as a sign, gave up on her principles and went full ballistic on her research. Downforce, penalties, the teams history, qualifying, chequered flag.

Since she was so deep in, keeping her obsession to herself as she had no idea with whom she could possibly share this, she might as well ask her mom for tickets money. The idea that she knew that he was just an hour away and she would miss that was simply not on the table.

Formula 1 race in an event meant for groups of friends to share their passion. So sitting there on the stand alone felt a little bittersweet. She made sure to push down any thoughts about seeing him up close again, let alone talking to him. It was something that half of the people present would try to do. And risking having him look through her, or worse - not remembering her - was not something she wished to live through.

But she cheered for him, she really did. Anytime he passed around her stand she got up, she watched him on the screen during interviews and when it became clear, he would have his best result of the season so far here at Imola, she celebrated with all those around her. Feeling proud that he was doing good. There was an electrifying energy in the air which could not compare to the times she watched races in her room on her laptop. If he had been standing near to her, she knew he would say something to beat himself up for missing a podium. And if she was standing next to him, she would tell him that he is an idiot and should also celebrate.

He looked a bit off during the interviews. Probably the crash few days ago. Y/N stayed sitting there just a bit longer than an average fan would.

Probably to avoid traffic...

part 3

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Tagged all those who like to suffer: @prudyhoo @anuksunamon @sagestack @esquerkaren @ushygushybaby @superlegend216

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elliesmistress · 2 months

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Here are some loser!Ellie hc's, my imagination about how Ellie "coming out to Joel" and just her in general.

Warnings: swearing, drug usage (weed) Ellie is in high school (but in her final year so she's 18), no use of y/n, suggestive themes (kissing and cuddling AHHH 🤭🤭🤭), Ellie bottoms! 😨😨

♡ Loser!Ellie who met you during band practice at school, she was tuning her guitar and you came up to her and Dina .

"hey, is anyone using this drum kit?" Your tone was so sweet and my god did Ellie fold, she was just stuck, she couldn't say anything and Dina laughed at her. "No one's using it hon, you can use it" and when you played, my fucking god was Ellie shocked- she never thought someone so innocent looking would play so fucking good.

♡ Loser!Ellie who DEFINITELY offered to give you guitar lessons just so she could get closer to you and to give you lessons-

"hey, so I was just wondering if you wanted to come to mine sometime?" You ask Ellie and she freezes, she can't believe you've just asked her that and she agrees and that's how you guys started dating

♡ Loser!Ellie who definitely NEVER tells Joel about you two dating but he's not dumb

♡ Loser!Ellie who whenever she gets back from school and Joel would ask about her day, she would go ON AND ON about you, like will NOT shut up about you. "That's nice kiddo, do you maybe wanna tell me what you did today?"

♡ Loser!Ellie 100% denies being gay, it's so obvious tho, like. She's got her Calvin Klein boxers all over her room, the way she talks about you, the way she gets all nervous whenever you come over for a "sleepover" (it was really a sleepover date) she CANNOT stop blushing when you're around her-

♡ Loser!Ellie who taught you how to rip a fat cone from a bong . "Yeah so like you kinda just" she put the bong to her mouth, using the lighter she blows in and breathes in for a decent 20 seconds before blowing out, let's just say you both hot boxed the room. Thank fuck Joel wasn't home.

♡ Loser!Ellie who 100% got you stoned for the first time (at Joel's house) and you called her "Els" for the first time and got SUPER tense and nervous, blushing like a little tomato <33

♡ Loser!Ellie who definitely gets stoned with you and plays games like Minecraft, TWD (the game), horizon zero dawn.

♡ Loser!Ellie who refused to get up and pee when you were falling asleep on her shoulder, like this bitch was BUSTING but nope, can't move because you were falling asleep.

♡ Loser!Ellie who went downstairs shit faced stoned (eyes red, puffy eyes, very noticeable) because you were hungry and wanted a snack, who was "creeping" down the stairs and went to the pantry only for Joel to scare the shit out of her

"Ellie what are you doing?" She fucking screamed, dropping the chips "Joel?! What the fuck?"

"Go to bed kiddo it's late"

♡ Loser!Elliewho's a bottom, sorry I don't care about what y'all say, she's a bottom- your on her chest, she's hugging you closer to her and your planting little kisses on her collar bone. Once you both are asleep, Joel just knocks at the door and slightly opens it to make sure you guys are ok and he smiles when he sees you guys cuddling.

♡ Loser!Ellie who's 100% the little spoon, she wants to be all big and tough but as soon as you offer her "tough guy personality" immediately dies "do you want me to spoon you?" You offer and she frantically nods "yes, yes yes pleaseeeeeee"

♡ Loser!Ellie who falls asleep on your chest watching a super serious romance, comedy movie

♡ Loser!Ellie definitely listens to Rage against the machine, absolutely loves that fucking band, but she also likes chase Atlantic.

♡ Loser!Ellie who is at a party with you and decides she can handle 5 shots (she can barely handle 2) so you have to drag her into the house with Joel laughing his ass off and she's just drunk and mumbling stupid shit "No! I'm not wasted you are!" Pointing at you and giggling like a little kid.

♡ Loser!Ellie who definitely walks out of her room with the small hickey's you gave her (didn't want Joel to see) but he saw and brought it up making her blush because you were next to her-

♡ Loser!Ellie who's doing the dishes and you get home from work and run over to her and hug her from behind, kissing her gently on her shoulder and her giggling like a mad man- slightly pushing you off "babeeee, I'm doing the dishes!"

♡ Loser!Ellie who doesn't let you pay for food, ANY FOOD! If you guys are high and watching something and you do "babe? Can we get some uber eats?" She grabs her phone, you get what you want and go "here's my card" and she shushes you and pays with her card.

♡ Loser!Ellie definitely gets mad when you don't offer her to shower with you, you get home from work all sweaty and disgusting and she rushes over to you and hugs you-

"ewww, ellieeee!" You shriek "I'm all yucky get off" and she simply goes "missed you sm"

"okay well I gotta go shower so" and she lets go and gives you puppy dog eyes "without me?" Her voice is soft and sad, you giggle. Ofc not, go get the towels.

♡ Loser!Ellie who is at dinner with Joel and Joel doesn't know how to bring it up but he just goes for it.

"Soo... She's a good friend of yours?" He says, putting down his fork. She looks up at him and nods "yeah" he coughs, looking at her with a stronger gaze than before "is she uh- is she your girlfriend?" Ellie looks at him and says "no"

"I wasn't born last night kiddo" he chuckles at how defensive she's gotten and then she finally admits it-

PART 2??

A/n: HIYAAA POOKIES <33 I know I've done absolutely fuck all the past few months BUT HEREEEEE (please don't come after my soul) haven't been too motivated to write again but I got motivated to write this and YES I am still WORKING on I never existed but yet again, it's not the type of writing I do because Ellie is a little cutie patooti , so I might change it slightlyyyyy so it's not AS TOXIC) love you all x

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therealdisneyfan2319 · 9 months

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Mr. Mailman | Natasha Romanoff

Summary: Natasha has a crush on the mailman :)

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Male Reader

Warnings: Mild language

Word Count: 1.7K

Masterlist

A/N: This was an anon request. Enjoy!

“What’s wrong with her?” Sam asked as he watched Natasha forlornly stir her coffee while staring out the window.

“She’s upset Y/N won’t notice her,” Yelena explained.

“Shut up,” Nat snapped, shaking her head and snapping herself out of her fantasy.

“I’m not wrong. You’ve had his eye on him ever since he first showed up!”

“I said shut up!” While her tone was harsh, the blush creeping across her face told a different story. It was true. Natasha Romanoff, normally the stoic, unattached assassin, had a crush.

From the first day Y/N L/N stepped foot on the Avengers’ compound as the new Stark Industries delivery driver, Natasha was absolutely smitten. She didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was the way his biceps bulged as he pulled the truck full of packages through the loading dock. Or maybe it was the flourish he used flipping the clipboard back to the dock manager after signing the package transfer. But truth be told it was the way he glanced up from the clipboard and smiled at Natasha the first day he saw her. Ever since then she used every excuse in the book to be at the loading dock or mailroom whenever he was there.

******

You never anticipated that your first job after college would be a delivery driver for Stark Industries, but here you were. While it wasn’t the office job you anticipated, driving the delivery truck was actually pretty cool. Getting to step foot on the Avengers compound every day was cool. Having Tony Stark as your boss was cool. Sneaking a glance at Natasha Romanoff whenever you could? Cool isn’t the exact word you’d use for that.

The first time you laid eyes on Nat was your first day of work. You were signing for some packages that were being transferred from the compound to the main site when she walked by. She was passing through, on her way to some other location. All you did was look at her and smile. She flashed a quick grin in your general direction before speeding off. That was the last time she actually made eye contact with you, but it wasn’t the last time you saw her. Most days she was either in the mailroom or the loading dock whenever you got there. No words were exchanged between the two of you, but she was always there. Sometimes you sensed her looking at you, but she quickly glanced away when you looked over at her.

Natasha was gorgeous, there was no doubt about that. You never missed an opportunity to steal a quick glance whenever she passed by. But you were always too scared to actually strike up a conversation with her. She was the Black Widow: something about asking one of the world’s fiercest assassins out for coffee intimidated you. There was always the slight risk that an unwanted advance would end in your assassination. So you kept your distance for reasons of personal safety…or that’s what you told yourself.

******

“As the resident expert on waiting too long, don’t.”

“Drop it, Steve,” Nat chided. “I don’t even like him.”

“Oh, that’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one,” Steve chuckled, dodging the coffee cup that came flying at his head. “It’s okay if you like him! I’ve talked to him a few times and he’s a nice guy.”

“No. No, it’s not okay. I wouldn’t know what to do if he liked me back…” she trailed off.

“You go out for coffee. You talk, you get to know each other.”

“Steve I…I’ve never actually dated anyone before!” Natasha blurted. Red crept up her cheeks as she finally admitted the one truth she never spoke aloud. The only other person who knew the truth was Yelena and even she was sworn to secrecy.

“What?”

“I know how to seduce people. That’s part of the job and I do it well. But it’s just the job. I’ve never done it for real.”

“Come on, you’re kidding. What about Connor?” Steve was shocked at the revelation. He set his coffee cup down on the counter and rubbed his beard as he stared at Natasha.

“That was a cover for the joint mission with MI6.”

“Lillian?”

“SHIELD mission.”

“David from Accounting?”

“Daniel. Just sex.”

Steve didn’t say anything: he just stared. Natasha glanced at her feet, kicking the ground in front of her as an awkward tension spread over the room. She wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole just to get her out of such an uncomfortable situation.

“Nat-”

“No one’s going to want to go out with a woman who’s never been on a date before,” Natasha replied tersely. She gulped the lump that was slowly creeping up her throat as she once again swallowed her pride.

It’s not that she didn’t want to eventually partner up with someone, in fact it was quite the opposite. After so many years of excuses, she just figured it would never happen to her. The possibility of something finally working out scared her. Natasha worried she wouldn’t know what to do. Sex was one thing. That was transactional, something both parties rendered knowing there weren’t any strings attached. Intimacy? That involved being vulnerable and saying how you felt. After so many years living so many lies Natasha wasn’t sure she was capable of such openness.

“You’ll never know unless you try,” Steve encouraged, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Cut the bullshit, Steve,” Natasha snapped as she shook his hand from her body. “We both know it’s not that simple.”

“It is with the right guy.”

******

Should be good after this last trip, you thought to yourself as you pushed the overflowing mail cart down the winding hallway toward the mailroom. It was cold and rainy, a miserable day to be on the road, and all you wanted was to get out of there, drive the truck back to the city, and head to your apartment in Queens. All that was left was sorting the mail and putting it in the right mailboxes.

The mailroom was a convoluted maze of boxes, bins, tubes, and chutes. Everything had a specific spot and it was easy to mess up at first. Once you got the hang of it, sorting everything out wasn’t too bad. What once took over an hour only took you twenty or so minutes now. Plopping the cart down in front of the mailboxes, you got to work stuffing envelopes, packages, and postcards where they belonged. The work was mindless, meditative almost. Once you got into the rhythm of it your brain shut off and muscle memory took over. Today you were so in the zone that you didn’t notice the redhead walk into the room behind you, so when you turned around the shock of realizing you weren’t alone made you drop your armful of envelopes.

“Oh great,” you muttered, stooping down to pick up the papers.

“Here, let me-”

“No, it’s fine-”

“No, it’s my fault. Let me help you.”

You watched as the redhead knelt down in front of you, raking papers toward herself. It was the first time you were ever that close to Natasha Romanoff. A more looming, intimidating figure in your mind, she was surprisingly smaller and less threatening up close and in sweatpants. If you didn’t know any better, you wouldn’t even know that she’s a trained assassin. She was so unobtrusive, so inconspicuous. She was also so, so incredibly beautiful.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize that you were in here,” you sheepishly apologized as you stared down at the red ponytail that was flopping back and forth.

“I have a bad habit of sneaking up on people,” Natasha admitted.

“Understandable,” you chuckled. Natasha gave a slight smile as she handed you some envelopes. God her eyes were the brightest green you’d ever seen. You grabbed the envelopes from her, holding onto them and locking eyes with her for far too long. Suddenly realizing you were actually a human being on earth currently existing in the moment, you cleared your throat abruptly and looked down at the letters.

“A lot of mail today,” Natasha mumbled. She snapped her head toward the mailbox, trying to hide the redness spreading over her cheeks. “Are you always this busy?”

“Uhhh, no. Not always. Normally it’s not this bad. Did y’all collectively decide that today was the best day to order from Amazon?”

“That’s either Bucky or Yelena. My sister’s always buying stuff she doesn’t need and Bucky loves the novelty of next-day delivery. I think it’s that whole ‘born over a hundred years ago’ thing.”

“Funny. Most of these packages are for you,” you teased, thrusting a stack of envelopes in her direction.

“What on earth?” Natasha fumbled the packages, completely confused as to why she had so many packages when she didn’t remember ordering anything. You watched as her eyes furrowed in utter confusion. Her bewilderment was equally amusing and adorable. “This has to be some sort of mistake.”

“I just deliver the mail, ma’am,” you replied.

“And make me feel old, Mr. Mailman. You can call me Natasha.”

“It’s Y/N, but you can call me Mr. Mailman if that makes you feel better.”

“How about I just call you instead?” Natasha blurted without realizing what she was saying.

“What?”

The second she realized what she just said, Natasha became totally overwhelmed with embarrassment. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” she mumbled, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “I’ll just-thanks for the packages. Have a good weekend.” She scrambled to pick up what she could before making a beeline for the door.

“Natasha, wait!” you heard yourself calling. “Please just wait, please, ummm…” She paused, still looking down at her packages as she faced away from you. “Umm, coffee? I mean, d’you want to get coffee? Not right now, I’ve still gotta get the truck back to the city. But maybe tomorrow? Or I can do Sunday if tomorrow doesn’t work. Basically whenever you’re free I can clear my schedule. If you want. No pressure.”

“Alright.”

“Sooooo tomorrow then?”

“Yeah. Tomorrow.” She glanced behind herself, shooting you a half grin that she was failing to stop from becoming a full on smile.

“Cool. Great. Awesome. Yeah, see you tomorrow,” you replied, totally breathless and in shock at the situation. A coffee date with Natasha Romanoff…what could go wrong?

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff fic #black widow fic #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x male reader #natasha x male reader #black widow x male reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfiction #therealdisneyfan2319

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ivymarquis · 10 months

Text

Blind Date

Me: “why the fuck is this fic taking so long to finish?”

The fic: *is the longest singular piece I’ve ever written for one chapter*

Pairing| John Price x F!Single Mom!Reader Rating| M Word Count| 8.4k Kinks/Content/Warnings| Drinking (everyone is clear headed), run ins with a shitty ex, mentions of abuse from prior relationship, these two are incredibly down bad for each other, oral (m! and f!receiving), protected piv, squirting

There is a certain catharsis in lamenting your dating horror stories with men to a married lesbian who’s over a decade older than you. Kate is always willing to lend an ear, and you’re positive that she gets a kick out of your misadventures in the way so many married people did while listening to their single friends.

“I swear I’m this close to just giving up all together and embracing spinsterhood,” you grouse with a drink in your hand after the work day had concluded.

You like to think your standards aren’t unreasonable. Someone kind, with their head on straight. It felt like finding a man who respects you as a person is becoming too big an ask and you very simply would rather be alone than deal with the endless hoard of men who seem hell bent on destroying any confidence you have in yourself.

“What about the guy you went out with yesterday?” Kate inquires with her head tilted. Must be fun, listening to your ramblings with a devoted partner at home.

“Oh did I not tell you? He was engaged!”

Kate pulls a face like her drink soured on her, matching how you’d felt at the time.

“Even better- guess how I found out he’s engaged.”

“She showed up at the restaurant?” Kate hits the nail on the head on the first try.

“Bingo,” you raise your glass in a gesture of affirmation before finishing it off. “Somehow I ended up being the one getting yelled at in that situation. Un-friggin-believable.”

You don’t abuse your work privileges to creep on people you meet in your personal life, but public record could have spared you if he’d been married. Harder to find out about an engagement from a total stranger who was determined to not let you find out about it and didn’t have social media.

“There’s always the other side,” Kate teases.

“Women scare me too much, I get all nervous.” You could appreciate an attractive woman as much as the next gal but good God you just could not help yourself when it came to men. The subtle way their breathing would change before they made their move, that low timber growling in your ear. The sheer weight of one on top of you as he manhandled you into the bedding-

Dear Lord, you need to get laid. Maybe you’re fixating on it too much because you’ve had an over 2 year dry spell. That tends to happen after a baby though. Especially with a pain in the ass ex who thinks he can pick and choose when to be around (and becomes absolutely incensed each time you remind him he could be consistent or he could stay home).

Kate is thoughtful for a moment, clearly kicking around an idea she hasn’t fully committed to in one direction or another. You can see the moment she decides to proceed with the thought. “Depending on what exactly you’re looking for, I might know someone.”

—

And here you are on a Saturday night, nerves clawing at your belly like a rabid dog.

Most (well, all) of the men you’ve dated you met online. There’s almost additional butterflies beyond the first-meet jitters knowing that the date is set up by a mutual friend.

There’s more at stake, even if the stakes are relatively low pressure. If the guys you met online did something incredibly out of pocket you never had to see them again, and held no qualms divulging the events to friends. Your romantic life has been full of misadventures but has given you a handful of stories, and as strangers you never have to consider any possible fallout in telling those stories.

Your son is with your mother for the night, allowing you the opportunity to focus solely on yourself this evening. No concern about keeping an eye on him while getting ready, worrying about what possible trouble he’ll get into when your back is turned.

It is hard at times- striking that balance between wanting to be a good mom and also wanting to be acknowledged as a desirable woman who has needs. A lot of men are shitty about it. You’d grilled Kate for every detail of his reaction when being informed of your young son. You don’t need another ambush regarding your disinterest in making it work with your son’s father.

She’d soothed your nerves- he hadn’t batted an eye, was about as worried about your reaction to how often his job pulled him away as you were about him having a poor reaction to being a single mom. You both have responsibilities that have to be placed above a relationship, now go play nice and have fun.

You tell yourself you can have one drink while waiting at the bar of the restaurant you’d agreed to meet at.

White wine ends up being your pick- not quite so easy to suck down as a tasty cocktail full of liquor, but gives you something to occupy yourself with.

You’ve only had the drink a handful of minutes before hearing someone clear their throat slightly behind you, and then your name.

Kate has shown you a photo of what he looks like so you’re not caught off guard when you turn around.

He’s handsome. You expect that but it’s different seeing him opposed to just the photo. Kind eyes, a warm smile on his face as he takes you in.

At least you both seem pleased with the big reveal.

“I’ve got a table waiting for us if you’re ready, love.”

He holds out a hand to let you balance yourself as you dismount from the bar seating, allowing you to steady yourself in your heels.

His hand is warm on your waist as he guides you and you’re already smitten by the time the pair of you sit down.

You’re fifteen minutes into dinner when you decide that so long as he a) is willing and b) doesn’t say or do anything completely deranged, you are going to ride Captain John Price like a mechanical bull at a shitty dive bar at the end of the night.

Perhaps the bar is in hell but either way you have been utterly deprived the past few years and he is checking plenty of boxes for you.

“So you work with Kate?” Starting off on the easy footing- the common ground that leads you both here.

“I do. Not directly- I work more on the tech side. I’m an independent contractor, I basically built the entire system she runs off of.”

“Beauty and brains,” his praise warms you, an impressed expression on his face. “Would explain how we’ve never crossed paths if you were hiding in a backroom surrounded by monitors,” he teases.

“You’re actually not that far off the mark,” not that you hide persay, but keeping that contract keeps a roof over your head and food in your child’s mouth. That keeps you busy. The fewer people who know how to work your program, the harder you are to get rid of.

You may or may not have hidden a few kill switches. Job security you call it. Though it’s not exactly first date material to talk about how you’ve got a government agency in a mutual understanding- keep extending your contract, and the program continues to work.

Either way, you don’t have much contact with the soldiers. Maybe you have passed each other in the halls but probably not- you’re certain a face like that wouldn’t have escaped your notice, introduction via a mutual friend or no. But you decide to utilize that mutual friend to shift the conversation. He’s hedged around talking about his work- on his end, sees that as the thing that might be a deal breaker for you. Probably wants to delay that until you've at least gotten your entrees.

So you go from business to hobbies. And it’s probably not entirely fair, but you’re about to see what his sense of humor is.

“Kate mentioned you’re a big soccer fan?” You make sure your expression is wide and doe eyed as you ask the question.

His eyebrow twitches- caught, no doubt, between wanting to leave a good first impression and biting back it’s football over here, love.

You crack far quicker than you initially plan, the wide grin on your face as you let him off the hook he’s good naturedly trying not to bite.

“Beauty, brains, and a comedian, lucky me.”

“I’m sorry, I had to. In fact, it was in her terms for this,” you make a vague gesture with your hand.

“Trust Kate to wheel and deal just to get my blood pressure up,” he muses as he takes a sip from his drink.

The conversation rolls easily enough- an ebb and flow as one of you poses a question, the other answering before allowing the first to say their contribution to the subject and moving on.

He’s charming, attentive, and a good storyteller. The way he carries himself screams military without being overbearing. He’s relaxed back into his chair and something about the scene in front of you makes you want to climb into his lap like a domesticated house cat.

Being the field captain to a specialized task force it’s no shock that he’s in incredible shape and you find yourself slightly distracted on more than one occasion by his hands and forearms.

The food is wonderful though the company is better- you end up moving back to the bar for fresh drinks and to free up the table for the server.

You spend a good length of time just talking with him at the bar.

John��s attention is on you but it’s clear he’s proverbially chewing on something the further on you go.

“That is the look of someone with a question they’re not entirely positive they want an answer to,” you’ve got a habit of being a touch direct at times. Amazing how it streamlines a conversation though.

“Observant one, aren’t you?” He pauses, takes another sip of his drink. “It’s probably none of my business, but ah- is your son’s father in the picture at all?”

It was your turn to take a drink. This was always such a fun topic of conversation. Frankly the number of men who took your ex’s side when the whole custody arrangement gets brought up alarms you.

But he has a right to his son.

Fuck that.

Your child is not property and you do not give a singular shit about your ex’s feelings- especially if it comes at the expense of your son’s safety. But it saves you a substantial amount of time not wasting energy on someone who could not understand the reason for your decisions.

“The short answer to the question is no. I had already left him by the time I found out I was pregnant, and given I left because he’s a raging alcoholic- with the emphasis on the rage-,” what a nice, polite way to say he is an abusive asshole. Your gaze shifts down towards the bartop, missing the way John’s expression softens as he reads between the lines of what you say. They’re not pleasant memories, but you’re not a wounded bird anymore- you’ve tended to your clipped wings and grown new feathers. “I didn’t want him involved.”

“He ended up finding out from a mutual acquaintance, and while he claims he wants to be around, he hasn’t done much other than blow my phone up at midnight trying to throw his weight around every time he gets a new girlfriend. So I get to be the cold blooded harpy that he gets to cry about- which is fine by me. On paper he says he wants to be involved, but he’s made absolutely no effort to arrange plans or anything while sober. I haven’t seen him in over 2 years. I can’t trust him to be a safe parent, and since he’s not on any official records I get final say unless he wants to go to court over it.”

Your whole little house of cards hinges on the fact that your ex wants everyone to bend over backwards for him while doing nothing for anyone else. All it would take would be one subpoena for a paternity test and your hands would be tied. He is an incredibly functional alcoholic, so there isn’t a criminal record or anything you can do to prove he would be unfit. There’s no proof of the abuse he inflicted on you.

Which means, if push comes to shove, you would be forced to relinquish sole custody and hand your child over for unsupervised visitation.

But that requires effort on his part. And that effort is the only thing keeping your little house of cards afloat.

“Sorry that’s probably way more information than you wanted-“ good job. Everything was going great until you laid out your drama.

“No apology necessary; I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know.”

And there’s no lecture about how you should give your ex a chance, that the opportunity to raise his son could make him change for the better. No dissertation on how you owe it to your son to do whatever it took to make things work with his father (that had been a weird way to end a date, and the only reason you hadn’t gotten up sooner and left was because it was such a bizarre conversation you’d half convinced yourself the whole thing had to be a bad dream).

You’re not a wounded bird and on the one hand it’s a good thing to get everything laid out on the table, but on the other you don’t want to sit and mope about your personal troubles. You’re actually enjoying John Price’s company, and don’t want to think about your problems.

And yes you are enjoying the time for what it is but part of you can’t help but also keep an eye out for… any opportunities for a transition.

As hot under the collar as you are, John’s gaze makes warmth coil in your gut in a way that has nothing to do with the wine- he’s being a gentleman.

It’s sweet. He’s being polite and respectful and showing sexual discipline while making it clear he’s interested.

And for all your bemoaning of prior dates with other men who aren’t captains of specialized task forces about how they were too pushy and too presumptuous and a nice dinner paired with drinks doesn’t entitle them to you dropping your panties—

Yet here you sit, hours into a conversation when you’d decided 15 minutes in you want to jump his bones. And you have to be patient otherwise you’re a total hypocrite.

You’re not entirely subtle. The pair of you are perched on barstools again, much closer than the table allowed you to be with the two of you angled towards each other.

Your dress looks good on you. A jewel toned blue that compliments your skin beautifully, the hemline stopping above your knees and loose enough to bounce tantalizingly when you hit your stride walking.

It’s not exactly an olive branch, but it is an offering of sorts when you carefully take the leg closest to John and cross it over the other. The hemline of your skirt slips up your thigh, exposing more of your leg. It stops just shy of exposing the top of your stockings and the clip to your garter. It does show just a hint of the darker border to your stockings, the lace peeking ever so slightly before transitioning to the sheer material that covers the rest of your legs.

You’re incredibly pleased with yourself when his eyes flick down for a split second and linger before snapping back to your face. Got you. He tries to hide behind being caught with a sheepish clearing of his throat. It’s adorable, really.

Your cheeks are starting to get sore from all the smiling and laughing that’s occurred over the past few hours. But he’s pleasant company so it’s a discomfort you’re happy to deal with.

You look past him for a split second- nothing in particular catching your attention but just taking in the scenery of the restaurant behind you. Your eyes are back on him in a moment only for your brain to process what it saw after a delay.

There’s no fucking way-

Yes. Yes there is. Your ex is mingling in the background, and you don’t even realize the smile on your face has fallen to a flat line like all the previous giddiness is draining out of you and pooling on the floor below.

It would not take a captain of an antiterrorism task force to see your sharp shift in disposition, so John notices immediately.

“Everything alright, love?”

Maybe he won’t see you. Maybe, if there is a God and he is merciful, your ex won’t look in your direction, won’t see you, and you can continue your cheerful plan of trying to seduce your date.

And whether there is not a God or he is just not merciful- either option remains with you having the same shit result. He turns his head and makes direct eye contact. God damn it.

You look back to John. You’d hoped you could move past talking about your ex for the evening. “Remember how I said I haven’t seen my ex in over 2 years?”

There’s a twinge of relief on his face- the look of a man grateful to not be the cause of your displeasure.

“Let me guess- he’s right behind me?”

“Not quite “right behind”, but yes. Hopefully he’ll just-“ a short huff off agitation leaves you as you cut yourself off.

So much for hoping he’d simply mind his business and stay with his group. He’s making his way towards the pair of you at the bar, and you can tell he’s had a good number of drinks in his system just looking at him.

You’d become extremely proficient at gauging how drunk your ex is at a glance. A skill you developed while still with him and one that doesn’t seem to have faded.

This is, you know without question, going to end up being absolutely humiliating for you. You just know it.

“I am going to go ahead and apologize now for whatever is going to come out of his mouth,” you inform John.

His hand finds your knee, giving a light, reassuring squeeze. “It’ll be alright, love.”

“Well what do we have here?” is the warning shot letting you know he’s not going to show any form of civility.

“Hello, Michael,” you greet cooly, mind spinning a hundred miles an hour trying to figure out how to end this conversation as quickly as possible.

“You don’t have time to answer my texts but you’ve got time to go out. That’s good. Good to know you’ve got your priorities in order,” he starts.

“Answering your texts isn’t even remotely on my priority list, you know that.” You’re trying incredibly hard to keep yourself from being outright nasty but a whole lot of old wounds float up to the surface at the sight of your ex.

Maybe your new feathers aren’t as filled out as you’d initially thought. You feel raw and exposed and it’s difficult to think. You know what you should do, how you should handle it- and there’s still that one little part in your brain that is keeping tabs on John and his response to all of this.

“Your priority should be my son-“ he starts,

“-who is with his perfectly capable grandmother for the evening, thank you,” you finish for him, jaw set tightly. “Why are you here?”

The direct question is aggressive but you know the cycle with him too well to allow him to steer the conversation. He’ll run you in circle after circle until you’re so frazzled you can’t discern left from right.

“Can’t say hello and introduce myself to your new fella? Come on now, where’s your manners?”

Your eyes widen as Michael reaches a hand out- there is no way this asshole is about to grab you in public.

Quick as a snake, John runs interference and drapes his arm across the back of your chair, his fingers holding the shoulder furthest from him lightly.

The entire length of your back and shoulders are blocked by the SAS captain, forcing Michael’s hand back as there was no easy place for it to land that wouldn’t also be touching John.

Up until now, John has been quiet and assessing the situation. Not bowing up or trying to assert himself- letting you deal with your ex and navigate the situation for yourself.

The look on his face is downright unpleasant to put lightly. This is the man in charge of an elite task force, who barks orders at soldiers who drop everything at once because he told them to-

-and you don’t feel so exposed anymore. You find yourself sitting up a bit straighter only for John to gently stroke his knuckles against your shoulder in a soothing gesture. The gesture isn’t a miraculously grand one, but one that makes you realize you’re not alone in this situation even as disorienting as it is. And if you’re being honest with yourself, the upright posture and shifting of your thighs isn’t so much a stress response to your ex as you keying in on John’s response to the whole situation.

“John, Michael- Michael, John. There, now you’re introduced.” Go away now please.

Your ex is too drunk and too full of himself to see the writing on the wall, and continues to poke the bear. “Well, since she doesn’t seem to want to give a proper introduction-“ he sticks an arm out, and you can’t help but notice how the simple gesture causes him to need to correct his balance. Good lord it was barely dark out and he’s already-

Well. Not your problem. Not anymore, at any rate.

John is sitting to your left, his right arm the one that’s draped across the back of your chair. The pair of you flash a quick look to each other, John lifting his arm from your chair to take Michael’s hand and-

God.

Damn.

It.

The exchange is actually as hilarious as it is embarrassing (You can’t quite decide if it’s all the second hand cringe variety, or first hand because Look, John! Here’s the father of my child! I sure know how to pick a partner! Is still coiling in the depths of your stomach). You’d prefer if it simply never occurred at all.

You can see your ex’s forearm flexing as he shakes John’s hand. The microexpression that flicks across your date’s face confirms your suspicion- Michael is (for some reason) trying to use an overexaggerated grip to establish some sort of dominance in the situation.

The quick really? that reads on John’s face rapidly turns to a bemused and subtle if that’s how you want to play then, a barely noticeable shift in his own grip resulting in Michael wincing.

“Captain John Price,” his tone is easy, betraying none of the pissing contest your ex instigated and is failing miserably to get one over on John.

Your ex mumbles his full name, clearly realizing that whatever his brilliant little plan is a) isn’t so brilliant to begin with b) he might just be alert enough to acknowledge the fact that he clearly has no true plan. He came over with the intention of being an asshole and has been flying blind the entire time.

There’s one woman from the group your ex split off from who is watching the three of you keenly. If you were to guess, she is probably his new girlfriend.

You can’t help but wonder- does she know enough to know that this is routine behavior for him? That he throws himself headfirst into a situation he hasn’t planned out- isn’t sober enough to plan out? Situations that don’t need to occur just so he can throw his weight around? Too petty to give a genuine “Hello, how are you? It’s been a while. I want to talk to you about Sam when we’ve both got some free time?”

Everything is vindictive. Constantly worrying about not being undermined and being respected to the point he gets in his own way. Actively sabotages his own opportunities. In dire need of therapy to work through his issues because you know the alcohol is how he copes and you’d sympathized at first but the reasons became excuses and then he’d started blaming you and-

-John places his arm on the back of your chair again and you pull yourself out of your mental spiral.

“I think your date is waiting for you, Michael. Best not to keep the lady waiting.” John observes, his tone neutral despite being a clear dismissal.

“You’ll be hearing from me later. I want to see my son.” Michael’s ignoring John’s presence but taking the hint.

You don’t fling a final barb at him. The venom has been drained out of you and you just want the interaction over and done with. Let him have the last word. You just want him gone.

You merely cast a look over at the woman who is Michael’s date for the evening and hope she’s got better sense than you did- that she leaves before he sinks his claws in her too.

The weight that settled in your stomach upon first seeing him is finally lightening up on you. You know you’ll wake up tomorrow to a barrage of phone calls and text messages that you won’t answer. It’s probably not good you’re so desensitized to the idea that it barely registers as a problem. Merely one of life’s many inconveniences.

“You alright, love?” John’s voice helps you shake the last of the tendrils that cling to you.

“Yes. Sorry. Wasn’t expecting to run into him of all people tonight, is all.”

“Never fun being ambushed, is it?”

You take a bit of a risk- you know enough about his job but he’s steered the conversation away from it every time the topic would naturally shift that direction. You know how Kate’s work can go and you assume his is very similar. “Well you’d certainly know more about that than I would.”

It works. The two of you break out in grins, and you find yourself no longer worrying about Michael and your focus readily settling back on John where it belongs.

At some point- long after the single cube in John’s drink has melted, and the condensation of your wine glass has soaked the bev nap underneath it, and more importantly long enough that you don’t feel that you’re fleeing the restaurant- the suggestion is made to go back to John’s. “No more surprises, hm?”

You gladly follow him. You’d taken an Uber to get to the restaurant, anticipating drinking and hoping to go home with him, so you have no worries about your own car.

You can easily see him being the type to give you a quick, chaste kiss on the doorstep after safely dropping you at home. In another universe you’d appreciate the restraint, enjoy fleeting touches over the course of a few dates that get more intense each time before finally finding yourself in his bed.

In this universe however, you don’t have to wait. Don’t want to, either. You get to indulge your earlier impulse of crawling into his lap, knees spread wide on either side of his waist. Lowering your hips allows you to feel him and what exactly he’s packing between his own legs. Your hips cant in short motions and heat coils heavy in your gut.

From the feel of things he’s proportional and John is not a small man. There’s a brief flicker that runs through your mind that you might be in over your head with him. The pent up lust and desire stifles that flicker. You’re more than game to see what a night with him ends up being like.

His hands are warm against your skin- one cupping the back of your head and keeping you close as the pair of you make out, the other settles on your hip and keeps you steady as you grind down on him.

You are possessed with the desire to get his cock in your mouth.

It’s cute how his face follows yours as you pull away from him.

“Help me with my dress?” Your question is perfectly innocent as you turn your back to him, presenting the zipper that runs down the length of your back.

His pleased laugh warms you, a shiver of desire and anticipation running down your spine as his breath fans across the back of your neck.

You’ve got a surprise waiting for him underneath your dress, partially revealed as one of his hands holds the top of the dress steady while the other draws the zipper down.

You gave him the hint you were wearing stockings when you’d baited him back at the restaurant, letting the heavy fabric of the dress fall to a heap around you before kicking it off to one side.

Turning back to face him, John seems quite enraptured with his surprise.

The lingerie set is a matching shade as your jewel toned dress, the garter belt clipping to the sheer black thigh high stockings.

There’s always that split second hesitation when revealing yourself to someone- the anxiety of if they’ll be pleased with what’s presented to them.

John is the first person you’ve been with since you’ve had your child, and the slight anxiety quells quickly at the look on his face.

John looks like he wants to eat you alive. Any insecurity is knocked firmly aside by desire quickly ramping back up.

Placing one hand on his thigh to steady yourself as you lift a leg to take your shoe off, John is quick to stop you. “Leave them on for now, love.”

It’s a request but it’s not. Really that doesn’t surprise you- he is someone who is likely used to having his whims accommodated to. You find yourself having no urge to defy him, nodding in compliance. If John wants your heels to stay on, then they’ll stay.

He guides you between his legs, enough space between his knees for you to slot yourself in. With him sitting on the bed he’s shorter than you standing straight up in your heels. Bending down to give a quick, teasing kiss you let yourself drop to your own knees.

“You don’t have to-“

“I want to,” you assure him with doe eyes and are rewarded with him settling into the bed as your hands go to work on his belt.

Unable to resist teasing him, you mouth at his bulge through the thick fabric of his pants. You’re rewarded with a soft cant of his hips, having his belt undone and working on the button and zip of his pants in record time.

Your earlier suspicions are correct. John is a big boy in more ways than one. You want him in your mouth- now.

While you’re occupying yourself with getting his pants off, John shucks his shirt and shoes.

He is, simply put, delicious to look at. From the broad muscling to the thick dark hair running from his chest down his abdomen. He doesn’t have the hard chiseled abs of a man who lives in the gym but the sturdy build that comes from having useful, functional muscle that’s put to work.

And that’s incredibly hot. He’s girthy as hell in your hand as you give a few strokes before putting your mouth on him.

You’re not entirely certain if deep throating him is going to be an option, but by God you’re going to try.

“Bloody hell, love.” John grunts while you bob your head up and down the length of him. You’re gauging just how much of him you can get in your mouth- where your threshold is before your gag reflex wants to kick in.

He’s petting you. Doubtless trying to fight the urge to fist your hair, his hips struggling to stay still on the bed.

You want him to. You feel feral, all the pent up sexual energy you’ve been storing for God-knows-how-long welling up all at once. You want this man carnally and your brain presently thinks having your hair held in place and your throat fucked is a fantastic idea.

John clearly has other plans, restraining himself and letting you work at your own pace. That low, deep breathing paired with his soft grunts and voiced encouragements stoke the flames of your arousal hotter.

Eventually you do need air, pulling off of him for a moment. Your hand works his shaft and teases the tip of him as you lean forward to run your tongue up and down the length of him, dropping a bit lower to lave at his heavy sac. He jolts which only encourages you to do it again.

You know your eyes are one of your better features- you’ve heard the compliment enough times both in and out of the bedroom, holding John’s gaze as you lick him back up the length of his shaft and circle the head once before having caught your breath enough to wrap your lips around him once more.

The second time around you’re able to get a bit more of him down your throat, but not all the way. What you can’t reach you stroke with one hand, the other resting on his thigh to help balance yourself as you work. You can feel the tension building in his thigh as he gets closer, pleased with yourself.

It’s a heady feeling. You don’t know exactly all the dirty details of his job but understand enough to know you’ve got a powerful man at your whim right now and that scratches a deep seated itch in you.

“Good girl,” his praise washes over you, warm and welcoming. “Just like that-“

You’re intent on sucking the soul out of him, all doe eyes and hollowed cheeks with those painted red lips. Eventually he gives into the urge to grab a fistful of your hair. He doesn’t do anything to interrupt the rhythm you’ve settled into, letting you move as you see fit.

He bites out your name and you feel the muscles in his leg drawn tight. “I’m getting close, love.”

It’s not quite a question. You give your not-answer by doubling down on him. You’re so close to having him in your mouth all the way to the base. You don’t want to back off. What you do want is for him to finish down your throat.

You get your wish. John’s fist tightens and you let out a grunt as his thrusting results in your nose pressed against his public bone.

The taste of him doesn’t really register as he spills inside your mouth, your focus on breathing through your nose and keeping your gag reflex down.

He’s petting your hair again, praises falling freely from him and soft apologizes. “Lost myself for a moment there, love. You alright?”

You keep your mouth hilted on him for a moment to prove a point- you’re fine, he didn’t push you past threshold- before finally releasing his softening cock.

He’s pulling you up to him after that, an open mouthed kiss that flusters you considering he just came in your mouth. “You’re just a treasure,” his voice purrs in your ear. “Only fair I return the favor, hm?”

He guides you to lay on the bed, knees hanging over the edge before he turns to settle between your legs.

He starts at your neck. You’re ticklish at one spot his lips, squirming in his hold with a giggle. “Sensitive, hm?”

You nod out a “mhm,” that breaks into a breathy moan as he works his way down your chest. Rather than removing your bra his hands work to pull your breasts free from the cups before paying particular attention to your nipples.

His hands are warm as they roam your ribcage, the heat of his body seeping through the lace of your outfit as his fingers trail across your skin and the delicate material.

“You’re so soft, love,” you don’t quite know how to respond to the compliment, mewling wordlessly in pleasure at the attention.

That seems to appease him as he kisses his way down your sternum and to your belly, the expanse of most of it covered by the fabric of the garter belt.

His eyes flick up to your own as his lips travel closer to the apex of your thighs. Where you’ve been lying patient and pliant in his grasp, the eye contact draws something tight in your core and you squirm again.

The next thing you feel is teeth as he nips you. “Be a good girl for me,” he tells you, soothing the soft throb of his bite with his tongue.

You force yourself to still as he moves lower, lower, lower- taking his time and having you thoroughly worked up before moving to the next patch of skin.

When he’s down far enough he slides one of your thighs over his shoulder, that arm looping under your arm and banding across your abdomen.

It’s his turn now to mouth at your clothed sex.

He pulls the gusset of your thong aside after a moment of teasing, his lips descending on you.

“Oh,” your hand immediately finds purchase in his hair, a pleased whimper escaping you at the feel of John’s tongue.

John feasts on you. There’s not much else that can be done to describe it. It’s lewd and wet as he laps at you, the flesh of his tongue doing little to soothe the burning ache inside you and only ramping it up.

Those eyes are wicked as he gazes up at you from between your thighs. The hand resting on your lower stomach is pressing ever so lightly, like John wants the pressure there but not too much yet and you’re once again struck with the idea you might be in over your head with him.

“John, please,” you beg. It feels good but you need more, lust clouding your brain as your hips rock against his face.

“You need to be patient, love. I’ll take care of you. Just relax, hm?”

It dawns on you that he’s probably running down the clock until his refractory period is up. That he doesn’t want to get you going too quick and then be stuck not quite ready to perform.

It’s an assumption, and you’re not 100% sure that you’re correct, but it’s a solid enough option that you move forward with that in mind.

The thought almost makes it easier to relax into the bed- the idea that John is going to pleasure you with his mouth until enough time has passed and he can get it up again. That he’s not just mindlessly toying with you with no end goal in mind.

It feels good you’re just stuck being greedy and wanting more stimulation despite knowing that won’t happen until John decides he’s ready to give you more.

You almost jump when the fingers you’ve been waiting for make their presence known. His mouth moves to focus on your clit, lips making a seal and sucking on it. You cry out, hips canting as his fingers gently rub at your labia.

He starts with one, gently sliding it in and out of you. Your back arches in satisfaction of having something to clench on and rub against. It’s more satisfying than just one of your own- that was for sure.

“That’s it love,” John praises you while easing a second one into you.

The second finger is what you were looking for, stimulation wise. John pets and strokes you, thumb gently working over your clit in soft circles before putting his mouth back on you.

He doesn’t just find your g-spot. John’s fingers are placed so they hone in on that spongy bit of tissue tucked inside you. He doesn’t let up on it, tongue working on your clit as you arch your back helplessly and moan.

That pressure is back on your abdomen, the hand not currently stroking you to nirvana pressing down on your belly.

You moan and buck against his hold. Your orgasm is creeping up on you and it’s like he’s determined to make you squirt.

“You keep that up and I’m gonna make a mess,” you warn him- not entirely certain how he’ll respond to the prospect of you squirting on his face.

John looks delighted and you realize that yes, you are in over your head with him.

There’s a mischievous glint in his eye as he pulls back from you, “You promise, love? Don’t tease me.”

Oh dear God- Next thing you know he’s reaching over you to pull a pillow from the top of the bed, wedging it underneath your hips before returning to his place between your thighs.

You’re flustered at how eager he is to see you squirt. His mouth is back on you, sucking on your clit and making your legs shake as two fingers go right back to abusing your g-spot, his free hand pressing on your belly increasing the pressure that is mounting by the second.

There’s nothing else for you to do but grab a fistful of his hair and hang on. “Please- oh! J-John! Right there,” at your encouragement he locks in on the spot that’s got you arching your back and your thighs trembling.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Show me,” he’s moaning encourments against your skin and you feel like a bow drawn tight and ready to snap. You’re so, so close.

The sounds he draws out of you- both from your mouth and between your legs- are filthy and vulgar and you don’t care at all as he gets you teetering just on the edge.

You’re practically gasping for breath, eyes screwing shut as the hand not buried in John’s hair fists the sheets next to you. You babble his name, chants of John all your brain can muster.

All that pressure coiling in you snaps and gushes out, literally and metaphorically.

“Good girl, making such a mess for me,” John’s praise has you flushing hot while his fingers work you like he’s making sure he can wring out every single last drop.

He stops when you have nothing left to give him, a trembling mess shivering in his hold.

Your brain at some point made the windows shut down noise, needing a moment to settle as you process what John just did to you.

This is the hardest you’ve cum in ages, certainly better than the orgasms you’ve given yourself during your little dry spell.

You return to the land of the living with his lips on yours, tasting yourself as he soothingly strokes your side. “You back with me?” He asks, eliciting a nod from you.

“Please tell me you have a condom,” your tone is pleading. You still want to ride him but you’ve learned your lesson about practicing safe sex. Once was, in fact, all it took for things to go off the rail.

“I do,” he stands, moving to the nightstand and opening a drawer.

Now that your legs feel somewhat compliant you sit yourself back up.

No sooner than John’s got the condom on then you’re guiding him back down, having him lay on the edge of the bed.

It takes a bit of maneuvering, getting yourself situated so your heels don’t catch on his sheets, but you’re straddling him with the leg closest to the edge of the bed hanging over the side as the opposite leg folds underneath you. You hover over him while getting everything lined up. The position of your legs allows you to alternate which one is supporting the brunt of your weight, a factor that is going to be fairly important once you’ve hilted yourself on John.

Even with how pliant your body is it takes a moment for the head of him to breach you.

“Oh,” you let out a breath as you sink down on him. You’re not able to get all the way to the base of him on the first go, getting your weight underneath yourself and lifting almost completely off of him before dropping down again. You get a little further this time, a moan escaping you.

“That’s it, love. Nice and easy,” his voice coos in your ear, that low timber having you liable to melt.

He’s thick. Not in a way that’s insurmountable to manage, but you have absolutely no complaints with how he fills you and anticipate being pleasantly sore in the morning.

Two more slow bounces have you sinking low enough to hilt yourself on him, taking a moment to enjoy the sensation of sitting fully on his lap.

One of his hands braces on your hip, the other his thumb circles your clit. You squirm at the stimuli, relishing in the feel of him before getting to work.

This is what you’ve been drooling over all night. Your reward is very well earned in your opinion. Moaning lowly as you bounce up and down, your movements are initially slow and languid but pick up speed as you get your bearings. John’s heavy exhales and grunts when you clench only serve to wind you tighter.

“You feel good, pretty girl? Hm? You like bouncing on my cock?”

You flush- a ridiculous notion given how you’re quite literally hilted on his dick-, face hot from the dirty talk.

The hand on your hip helps guide you to a pace that’s pleasurable for the both of you, eyes rolling as he thrusts his hips in a way that makes you see stars. “Yes! John- yes! Oh it feels so good,” your voice a low purr as he delivers on every fantasy you’ve had this evening.

The stretch of him in you feels absolutely incredible, knocking the air out of you on each bounce. It doesn’t take long until that knot begins to form again, growing steadily as you rise and fall in his lap. The press of his finger circling your clit draws staggered moans, bracing on him for support.

“Been thinking about this all night,” John grits out. “Wanted to flip you over the bar top and have my way with you right there on the dining room floor.”

You moan at the confession, feeling less like a rabid dog with no impulse control now you know you’re not alone in the intense desire that had struck once you’d laid eyes on him.

“Probably wouldn’t have- ah! st-stopped you,” you tell him. The grip on your hip tightens at that, another moan escaping you as you bounce on him.

Your eyes roll in pleasure, cunt practically fluttering from the way he keeps getting you to clench. The thickness of his girth doesn’t just let him keep hitting that spot in you with lift of your hips so much as the mushroom tipped head of his cock drags across it.

“Aren’t you just a fucking treasure,” he praises.

Your thighs are burning, eased by the position of your legs and John’s grip helping you but becoming more present with each wet clap of your sex against his lap. It almost helps you tip closer to another climax.

Your eyes squeeze shut, a staggered breath escaping you.

“Eyes on me,” he tells you and you comply immediately.

“John, please I’m so close,” your thighs are shaking again, threatening your already precarious balance.

“You need more, pretty girl?”

You shake your head. “No-no. Just don’t stop. Please don’t stop!”

And bless him, he doesn’t do anything to fuck up your rhythm. The fingers circling your clit keep the same tempo and pressure perfectly, his free hand still helping guide you up and out of his lap before sitting you back down.

You know you’re about to come but are caught off guard by how sharp it is as you squirt for a second time.

The sight of you spurting across his abdomen nearly severs any control John has left. The next thing you know John’s abandoned your overstimulated clit in favor of rolling you onto your back, your heels clattering to the floor from the motion. Your legs go instinctively to clamp around his waist for security- only one of them does, the other stopped by wet fingers gripping your thigh by your knee as he spreads you open. His weight is held on the forearm bracing next to your head by the time you process the shift in position.

“You alright, pretty girl?”

You can’t quite get your words out but manage a nod. “Ye-yeah,” you eventually stagger out as he waits for a verbal confirmation.

With the comfort that you were fine, that gives John the assurance he needs to seek his own pleasure.

More than satisfied with your two climaxes, you lay limp and pliant in his grasp while he chases his own end.

The wet squelch of his cock splitting you open with each thrust was loud and obscene although you were too far gone in the blissed out pleasure to care. Your whole body feels delightfully tingly, your head swimming pleasantly.

You clench down on him a few times, more for his benefit than anything else. You’re spent but more than willing to help him across the finish line as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, muttering praises that are punctured with short, sharp thrusts before he stiffens as his own climax hits.

The two of you have both broken into a light sheen of sweat by the end of things. After a moment to recuperate John stands with a “I’ll be right back.” (And you unabashedly enjoy the view of his ass while he retreats to the bathroom.)

True to his word he returns shortly, evidently having disposed of the condom with a towel in hand for you.

The pair of you get yourselves clean and sorted. Before you can decide how you want to ask, John seems to already know what the question is.

“You don’t need to leave, do you?”

Again it’s not entirely a question, but still gives you an out if you want to take it.

You don't want to take the out.

#john price x reader #captain john price #john price #x single mom reader #cod x reader #cod mwii #my writing #now I gotta name this bitch because I totally plan on a whole series and the other characters can’t be calling her love all the time lmao #i wrote and coded this whole thing on my phone because my laptop has once again quit on me

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aalyssah · 1 year

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Movie Night Gone Wrong

Pairing: Billy Loomis x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Mentions of sexual assault!

Word Count: 814

Summary: You watch a horror movie with Billy, but remember something scary which makes you upset.

A/N: Sorry if the summary is trash, but Billy is so sweet in this one. Hope You Enjoy!

If there was one person who loved scary movies, it would be Billy. Ever since you became friends with Billy, it was clear he loved watching them because that’s all you would do. You would hang out and watch movies, but when you both started dating, that was all you did.

Scary movie after scary movie. If you wanted to go out he would convince you to stay inside and watch scary movies. You must've grown used to it by now, coming home from work and laying down with Billy on the couch, or bed and putting on a movie.

You don’t know what Billy does for work, but every time you ask him, it ends up in an argument, so you just push it to the side. The least he did was bring money back. Like, it wasn’t a small amount, it will be over $400 a day. (From the people he killed.)

You don’t know where he gets it from, but he always just tells you that you're too innocent to understand.

The day was the same as the others as you walked into the house, throwing your keys in the dish bowl. Billy emerged from the kitchen, greeting you. “Hey baby, how was work?” You sighed, rubbing your forehead.

“A pain in my ass. I was serving this one guy and he cussed me out because I forgot his refill after he ordered me to do 3 things.” Billy’s fist balled up, knowing he will have to go to ‘work’ tomorrow. “It’s alright, you don’t have to see him anymore. You wanna go watch a movie?” You rolled your eyes letting a smile break on your face.

“Is that your way of making me feel better?” Billy shrugged his shoulders, walking over to you and wrapping his arms around your waist. “It made you smile, didn’t it?” You nodded your head, sitting on the couch. “There’s this new movie that came out and people said it’s gory.” You didn’t think much of it, snuggling up closer to him.

FAKE SPOILER.

The movie was going good so far until one specific sense came up where a girl was running from a man. He looked like a creep, mid 30s, balding a bit, wearing a white dirty tank top that's way too short for himself. He chased the teenage girl down the street as she screamed for someone to help her, but it seemed no one was there.

It was when she bumped into Art that she felt relief and so did you, but this is a scary movie, so what do you think happened? Art pulled out a knife, brutally stabbing and cutting the girl's face off. You covered your eyes, flinching as you heard the girl's screams.

“Please, turn it off.” You asked nicely to Billy, but he thought you were joking. “Come on, don’t tell me you're scared of a horror movie.” He joked, laughing. “Turn it off! Turn it off!” Judging by the way you were yelling and the way your voice sounded, he could tell you weren’t joking. He rushed to grab the remote and turn on SpongeBob.

The thought of that man from your job earlier and the movie, with the man chasing the teenage girl really got to you. Tears spilled out your eyes as Billy looked shocked, not knowing what to do. In all the years you’ve been friends with him, he would’ve never thought you would cry over a movie, considering how many movies you watch in a week.

“Y-y/n.” He reached out to touch you, but stopped, not wanting to scare you. “Baby, look at me.” He gently grabbed your wrists, pulling them off your face, so you could see him. “It’s okay, the movie isn’t real. Nobody’s gonna hurt you, I promise.” You pushed your head into his chest, wrapping your arms around his torso and taking in his scent.

It was something that will calm you down, especially in a situation like this. He rubbed his hand through your hair, shushing you. When he heard your cries die down, he got up and went to the kitchen, pulling out some leftover pizza you two had the other night.

He warmed it up and came back to you, feeding it and praising every time you took a bite. He was patient and understanding with you as he carried you to bed and undressed you into your night clothes. He laid with you in bed and before you knew it, you were asleep.

Billy slowly snuck out your hug, replacing himself with a pillow, before pulling out his phone and calling Stu. “We got a guy, who thought it was nice to yell at Y/n.” Stu said something along the lines of, ‘How do you know?’

“Movie night gone wrong.” Was all Billy said after he put his ghost face mask on.

#billy loomis #billy loomis fluff #billy loomis smut #billy loomis imagine #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis x female reader #billy loomis x you #billy loomis fanfiction #slasher fluff #slasher smut #horror smut

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nkogneatho · 11 months

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𝐏𝐔𝐓 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐄

: ̗̀➛synopsis: You were scared of falling in love but will you change your mind when you meet someone who actually shows you how you are filled with so much love?

#mlist #commission #taglist

—wc: 1.5k

—cw: gn!reader, fwb to lovers (ig), hurt/comfort, mild smut, cockwarming, receiving head, abandonment issues, past trauma, commitment issues, anxiety and crying, fluff, soft gojo, not proofread (its 2 am im sorry)

—a/n: so my mind decided to remind me of my trauma on a Wednesday night so I pulled this out of my ass. Tell me what you think if you read it :)) Reblogs much appreciated.

It fucked you up. Body fragile as a glass, mind clouded dark. The crippling fear emerged on the surface once again. That same old feeling. The feeling of abandoning someone before they abandon you.

You pitied yourself. What a pathetic person to get walked over by all those people. You despised every single decision you made. That included to kindle a relationship with this man.

Gojo Satoru. The strongest, they say. Hair whiter than snow, eyes glinting in light like the ocean waves turn diamond in sun.

He loved you. In fact, he loved you so much it scared you. The anxiety creeped up your back when he said those words to you.

"I love you."

He loves me. He said he loves me. But so did every other guy. He is lying. He'll leave.

Can you blame the traumatized mind to come to such conclusions?

Gojo did expect this reaction from you. He knew you were scared or love and commitment. Although the man felt the need to confess or he were to regret it for the rest of his life. Your knees met the floor with a loud thud, arms hanging like they were a soft toy.

"Do you know what you're saying?" Your voice cold.

"I do. I love you. And I know it's something you never wanted to hear given this relationship—fuck is this even a relationship?" His palm rubbed his forehead, feeling the rough sensation of his bangs

He was right to ask that question. Was this a relationship? You both started as just fuck buddies. You set a bunch of rules (which were tampered later anyway.)

Rule No. 1, no interference with other party's personal life.

Eh. He broke that when he started coming to your workplace with a bouquet of tulips every Monday. He knew Mondays were harsh. So you didn't complain because it did help to get through the rough day. Rule No. 1 successfully broken.

Rule No. 2, dates are okay sometimes but not a lot. Maybe twice a month.

Now, you were the one to alter this rule. Dates might be forbidden but not coming over to his place and treating it like your own home. His place was way more spacious given his generational wealth. It was easier to focus on work in such a silent and lone environment. The rule only got broken when you decided to move in. Well, you would save the time to call him over or you traveling here just to fuck.

By now, he had probably bullied his dick inside you in every single room. You still remembered his words.

"I want to fuck you in every square inch of this house, y/n."

And he did.

He fucked you on the big navy blue velvet layered couch, not giving a shit if your juices stained the expensive material. He'd just buy another one.

He spread your legs and ate you out on the dinner table on that one evening when the takeout took too long to arrive. Your fingerbeds grabbed his head so hard, it might've broken his skull as you orgasmed. He later thanked the delivery guy for being late to which the boy walked out with a confused look.

He made your wrap your legs tightly around him as you cockwarmed him on the kitchen counter. Brows furrowed, desperately wanting to grind. But your locked thighs around his slutty waist, not letting him do so.

Every square inch, he fucked you in. So Rule No.2 was off the table.

Rule No. 3, No catching of serious feelings or saying I love you.

Gojo didn't recently fall for you. He was caught in this way before you realized. Maybe he even doesn't remember it himself when he did.

"What do you mean? You just broke rule 3, Toru."

"Fuck those rules. I don't even know why we had them in the first place. Look at us y/n," he tried to reason. "We never follwed them so don't give me that crap." His voice was elevating to a higher octave. You hated it. You don't like yelling. It triggers the tinnitus in your ear.

Tears started rummaging down your dry cheeks. "Look at me. I know you're lying."

"Baby, I am not. I know it's hard to believe given your past but just trust me on this one." Yes he knew about your previous failed relationships and the effect it had on you. Which is why he took so long to confess. Each day, calculating the outcome. So at some point, he did know how you'd react. Maybe he'll lose you forever.

"Why?" You questioned him. You felt like you were a broken soul. Used and abused mentally. Taken advantage of the innocent mind and abandoned when you were to ask for the real love. You started hating the word love, ironically.

I love you. It sounds preposterous in your brain. What a fool would someone be to ever believe those words.

"Why? Look at yourself," he said.

"I do. Everyday. Which is why I asked the question. I am nothing but someone drowning. But I do not want to be saved. I don't want a savior, Toru! It makes me feel pathetic and weak." By now, you were wailing and screaming.

But he didn't interrupt. He let you scream your heart out. Maybe that was the last option he could choose to make you face your actual feelings.

"You done?" He asked. You were sniffing, catching your breath from all the yelling.

"Toru, all I see myself is as a broken soul. Why would you ever love...this" you pointed at yourself.

"You fool. Look in my eyes and tell me if I lie, but all i see in you is love. It's funny how you hate that feeling yet you're filled with it, y/n." His gaze softened. "You say you don't want a savior. Do you realize you don't need it in the first place. Because it's you who saves others."

"What do you mean?"

"Remember, Ginger was abandoned in the rain when we saw her the other day? No one cared about her but you did. You fed it canned cat food a took her to a shelter. You named her. You cared for her." He intertwined his hand in yours.

"Y/n. I used to wake up every single day in this apartment feeling absolute shit about what happened with Suguru and others. But when you started barging in on random days, that's when I started to feel a little better." You understood it. It is lonely to live alone with your own thoughts haunting you in this big pace.

"You made this house a home. You don't need a savior because you are one." he claimed.

"When did you—you started loving me?" You asked between hiccups.

"Sweetheart. I fall for your every single second. Everytime I wake up next to you. Everytime I see you smile. Whenever you skip on the same colored tiles on the footpath. I love all of you." That is when you realized how selfish you've been. Taking and taking his love but giving none back. He did so much for you. But you were about to leave him in a fear of something that might never happen.

"What if you leave just like all of them?" you asked.

"Give it one more chance. Who knows? Maybe I'll stick around for the rest of our lives." He wore a soft smile as he said those words, affirming you. You started crying again, but this time, it was due to happiness.

"If you never leave, I promise to love you more than myself."

"Oh, baby," he hugged you a tightly. "I love you so fucking much and I am so happy right now."

He pulled away and his lips crashed against yours. It's weird. You've kissed hundred times before but this one felt different. Maybe, because it was filled with love and acceptance.

You came to a realization. You don't know what the future holds. It is not the fear of abandonment that scares you. It's the feeling of you giving away all your love and them not giving any back. You always swam ocean for people who couldn't even meet you at the shore.

But Gojo never left your side. All this time, he was swimming right behind you, concealing you from all the harm. So if anyone's worth the risk, it's him.

Oh. Gojo Satoru. What a beautiful man you are.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk angst #jjk smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x you #jjk fanfic

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saerins · 1 year

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𝖇𝖚𝖎𝖑𝖉-𝖆-𝖉𝖆𝖙𝖊: isagi yoichi + @yoichiris <3

+ isagi yoichi x f!reader | wc 1.1k

notes: omg my hand slipped :’) sorry this took a while !! didn’t want to disappoint isagi’s girl <3 hehe hope you like this date + a lil bonus with your man ^_<

isagi’s… stunned, really. he doesn’t actually know what to do.

age seventeen, multiple chances at valentines’, watching most of his friends get gifts or love notes without getting any himself—yet today, 14 february, he sees a little folded-up note on his desk, along with a small heart-shaped box of chocolates.

he’s beginning to think he’s hallucinating. is this for real? part of him thinks it’s a gag.

when he opens the love note, he’s relieved to find out it’s actually addressed to him; i’ll always be cheering you on, isagi-kun :)

what makes him even more relieved is the fact that he realises whose handwriting it is—yours. how can he not, when he’s been admiring you silently from afar, thinking he could never get someone as beautiful, as kind as you are.

does that mean he can ask you out for valentines’? no, the more important question is: how does he ask you out without sounding like a creep for knowing exactly what your handwriting looks like?

shit.

later that day, once classes are over and done with, isagi steels his resolve; he’s seen you getting several confessions yourself, from other guys in your grade, other guys from his own damn soccer team, even. he’s pretty sure he’s the only one you gave anything to, though, so he gets a little bit of a confidence boost from that.

when he finally catches up to you near the bus stop afterwards, he calls out your name, and when you turn around he’s hit with the sudden realisation that god, you’re so pretty he could just melt right here and it’d be worth it.

“yes, isagi-kun?”

through your eyes, he looks kind of a mess, if you’re being honest; his uniform is buttoned wrongly, his hair is sticking out a little at the side, his cheeks are flushed red as though he’s just run a marathon. but he’s still handsome, that determined look in his eyes that he wears during his matches is apparent now, and you wonder what for.

isagi doesn’t know how to do this, he doesn’t know what he should say that would be best, but what he does know is that he wants you. wants to be able to hold you close, to lace his fingers through yours, to be able to dedicate goals to you.

with a shaky voice, he chokes out, “this weekend! y-you wanna go on a date?”

you giggle, and isagi feels even more flustered.

“a date with me,” he clarifies, as though he even needs to. that just makes you giggle more, and isagi already has that sound saved into his brain—it’s his favourite sound now. you’re giving him new favourites just by being alive.

that saturday when he’s actually out with you, he finds himself being even more attracted to you—is that even possible? when you’re telling him about your morning and all he can do is stare at you from across the table, appreciating the slope of your nose, and the way your eyes beam at him, and the curve of your lips. he chastises himself internally for thinking of kissing you already.

you make him feel more selfish; isagi has been fine with watching by the sidelines until now, until he actually gets to know you. he wants to keep your laugh for himself, wants that smile to stay on your face and curse anyone who dares to take it from you. your fingers, he wants to hold them, wants to kiss your palm if you ever place them near his lips.

it’s all he can think about all day—you, what kissing you might feel like, how pretty you are in your casual wear, how he nearly gets a heart attack when you pull him into a photo booth and ask him to take pictures together, sitting as close as you did with him, feeling your bare skin against his; it’s new, it’s electrifying, it scares him (in a fucking good way).

after knowing you, he can’t go back to the way he was. can’t go back to sitting quietly at the side in silent admiration. can’t risk anyone getting to have you, and he wonders if you feel the same about him too.

“thanks for today,” you mutter shyly as he walks you home, your house now just a few feet away.

isagi still hasn’t mustered the courage to hold your hand, but he figures he has time. he doesn’t think this is the last date you’ll have.

“see you on monday, isagi-kun,” you tell him, and he feels like a part of you didn’t want this date to end, but neither did he.

“yoichi,” he corrects you, and you blink at him. “i want you to call me yoichi.”

because he doesn’t want you to call him anything less intimate than that.

you smile and say his name, “yoichi,” and then again he has a new favourite sound—in the way you say his name.

and before this, his favourite sensation was the way the ball leaps off his feet right before he scores a goal—but you’re overwriting everything and now he can’t seem to remember what anything else felt like after he presses his lips on your cheek.

(what he doesn’t know is that it’s the same for you.)

his feelings for you hold the same, even five years into the future and he’s won his first championship game, scoring the winning goal that sealed the deal.

you’re at the bleachers, in the front row, cheering wildly next to your best friend, and isagi spots you without fail. he beams at you from the field, and you know that it’s for you—it’s always for you.

everything isagi is, his goals, his dreams, it’s always shared with you. for someone who didn’t think he’d make a good boyfriend (quoting his own lack of experience), he’s pretty darn perfect.

isagi constantly reminds you that he’s yours and yours alone, no matter how many girls try to shoot their shot. “you’re special to me,” he tells you, cupping your face in his hands, “no one can ever replace you. you’re my girl, okay? my only one.”

he doesn’t want anyone else but you. forever, for life.

“so isagi, what’s it like being the top striker in japan at such a young age?” the reporter asks, and isagi chuckles. now that the game is over, it feels all too surreal.

“fucking awesome, actually,” he answers, earnest.

“what’s next on your list? what’s your next dream, next goal?”

isagi doesn’t hesitate, pointing straight at you with that same determined glint in his eyes you remember from way back then. “i’m gonna marry her.”

#writing this for you made my soft spot for isagi a whole lot softer 😭#sorry if i drifted a lil but !!! couldn’t help it i wanted more sweetness from #himmmmm :’’’)))))#my first time writing isagi have mercy i beg :’)#૪ aeri’s fics !#bllk x reader #isagi x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi x you #isagi x y/n #blue lock x reader

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mikareo · 5 months

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⌗ SEASONS OF LOVE ₊ ˖ ་. a 呪術廻戦 miniseries

“ ࣭⸰ ★ HOPELESS ROMANTIC ; geto x fem reader ⠀ ꒰ . . episode four ! ꒱ . . . word count; 0.9k ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᯇ leaves are falling, and he is too

⊹ ⠀⠀ with so many love stories on the shelf, geto feels his heart being influenced. if he's going to fall in love with anyone...it's you.

contains; geto suguru x fem reader, university (year 2) au, fluff, swearing, friends to lovers, love triangle

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀pm or send ask to join/be removed from taglist,, ⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀link to miniseries masterlist

"suguru how do you expect me to read when my heart is in a million pieces?"

he doesn't think he's ever met a person as dramatic as you are.

"these books can't teach me how to get laid."

it's kind of cute, though. annoying...but cute.

with the november breeze sweeping the leaves from every tree on campus, winter is approaching fast and geto feels like your irritation towards gojo is at an overwhelming high. there really isn't anything he can do about it. after all, he wasn't there when you oh-so-spontaneously confessed your undying love for satoru on halloween; to which you received a brutal rejection...this is why geto doesn't date— especially why he doesn't date in a world run by satoru gojo.

now, geto has done his very best at trying to distract you from the devastating heartbreak that comes with loving his best friend. there have many so many girls before you who've tried to get on with him after being ignored by the white haired boy; which is extremely insulting that any of them thought geto would be an easy target or a second option to satoru. when geto does fall in love, he hopes that it'll be with someone who chooses him first. someone who doesn't even consider their other options and believes that he's the only person in the entire world who can fit with their uneven puzzle piece. clearly, gojo isn't the person to fit with yours.

"maybe you just need to sit down and be silent?" he purses his lips in annoyance, trying his best to focus on the words of poetry and rhyme. poems are the language of love. you could take some advice from these lines. "you're talking so much that you're not even enjoying the book."

you groan. "this book is boring. who the fuck reads poetry for fun?"

um. he does.

the glare he sends your way is intimidating, but also gentle. "what would you like to read instead? since you're such an avid reader?"

his sarcasm is meant to be insulting.

a mischievous smile creeps into the corners of your lips; smile likes yours used to scare him as a child after having seen alice in wonderland one too many times. he never understood the other children's fascination with a purple, talking cat. it's just weird. "how about this one!"

the book your present to him isn't anything he's read before. actually, it's something that he hopes to never read ever. "you're kidding."

"dead serious!"

how is a cheesy romance supposed to make you feel better?

"that's just going to make you feel worse, y'know." he gently takes the book from your hands and shuffles through the pages. with his head nodding along to each words his eyes skim, it's painfully obvious that you're going to read this book imagining the male lead to be satoru. "you have such an active imagination, you'll be heartbroken all over again."

with his words, your smile melts and geto knows he's right. "satoru is a lost cause in the romance department." he explains, scooting a little closer to you and rubbing your knee. the two of you have been seated on the floor of the lovely little bookshop near campus for an hour now. you're practically the only two people in the entire store, which has made this fake date feel a little more real. "i promise that you're better off dating anyone other than him."

you don't move away from the comfort of his palm, and instead lean into it; but your words are in defense of gojo. they always are. you can't seem to find it in your heart to let him go— no matter how awful of a rejection. "he's not a bad guy. he just needs a little help learning how to love."

the look in your eyes is earnest and geto sees that you believe your statements with your whole heart.

"i can be the person to help him learn."

there's no physical tell that you're upset, but he can somehow sense that you're about to cry. maybe it's the way you slightly tensed up with your body rejecting his soft touch or the way your gaze refused to meet his; no matter, he's going to cheer you up anyways. there aren't many people that geto can make smile— but somehow, in the past four months of being your friend (?), you've become the only person he cares to cheer up.

he murmurs your name in the most comforting, gentle voice that anyone's ever spoken to you. "you are the most talented, most interesting, and most extraordinary person in the universe; and you are capable of amazing things—"

"because you are the special. suguru, i've seen the lego movie. you're not being slick." aw man.

your tone of voice is irritated, yet you still laugh. yes, geto knows that might possibly have been the stupidest and cheesiest thing he's done in his whole life, but he doesn't care. he made you smile. him! not satoru. geto suguru made you smile. it's not something he'd win an olympic medal for, though in his mind it's worth more than that. he doesn't know when you became so special to him. he doesn't know how you managed to creep your way into his heart and cause this embarrassing blush to consume his cheeks; and he isn't bothered to figure it out.

he doesn't want to rejoice in your heartbreak...however, there is a tiny part of him that's happy satoru doesn't love you back.

maybe it's finally time suguru gets to be loved.

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀pm or send ask to join/be removed from taglist,, ⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀link to miniseries masterlist

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⊹₊｡ reblogs are greatly appreciated! ˚₊⊹

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wh0re43van · 6 months

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I’ve always cared (Jimmy Darling X Reader)

Summary: Elsa took you in, seeing herself in you, when you and Jimmy were just 6 years old. Everyone at the camp loves you, Ethel has taken you under her wing, but Jimmy is much less than thrilled with your presence.

Warnings: smut, mentions of alcohol

Word count: 2.7k

A/n: I’ve gotten a couple requests, it may take a bit longer than expected because Im in college and I’m swamped at the moment, but I am working on them! This is just a Jimmy imagine I had been working on for a while. I tried to make this one a bit shorter! Thank you for reading, enjoy!

I glance at the wooden clock hanging on the lilac wallpaper covering my small trailer. 3:00pm, I better go meet Thomas, my new beau, at the entrance of the carnival. Hopefully Jimmy minds his business this time. It seems like every time I bring a date back here, he scares them off.

I look in my mirror, straightening out my purple and white dress before walking out the creaky metal door. As I step out onto my porch, I glance over at Jimmy’s trailer which happens to be about 50 feet from mine. He looks away and takes a sip out of his whiskey glass, resuming his reading of today’s newspaper. Theres always been tension between us. Well, more like a blatant dislike towards me. Jimmy always managed to get me in trouble with Elsa when we were little, now he constantly chases off boys I bring home. Whenever I would ask him why he hates me so much, he would just walk away, so I gave up.

I walk through the giant clown mouth and up to Thomas’ automobile as he steps out.

“Hey suga’. ” Thomas flashes a bright smile and pulls out a comb to slick back his dark hair.

“I’ve missed you Thomas,” I beam as I lean up to peck his cheek. I grab his hand to lead him back to my trailer.

As we approach my door, I see Jimmy glower over his newspaper. Not at me, but at Thomas. They make eye contact, and neither one wants to look away first. Seeming to be in some weird battle of unspoken dominance.

“Why so crabby, lobster boy?” Thomas teases. I roll my eyes. To my surprise, Jimmy says nothing. Just sips his whiskey, still refusing to break eye contact.

“Thomas quit it,” I huff then all but shove him into my trailer.

“I don’t know what that guy-“ I halt his words with a soft kiss, putting my hands on his chest.

“Don’t pay attention to him,” I smile and pull his black shirt from behind his buckle and over his head. “Just pay attention to me.” I bite my lip and a devilish smile creeps onto his face. I push him onto my bed and turn on the radio before straddling his waist, dipping down to kiss his neck. Thomas reaches up to close my blinds above my bed.

•

Jimmys POV

•

I see some shuffling out of the corner of my eye. I glance up at Y/n’s window to see that bastard shirtless with her on top of him. He notices my looking and gives me a sly wink before closing the blinds. I feel my face contort into a scowl and my blood pressure raise. I gulp down the last of my whiskey before I slam the paper down, shaking the table and knocking the glass over, but I’m too pissed to care. I march over to where my mother is starting supper.

“Why is she allowed to do that?” I huff, pointing at Y/Ns trailer.

“Why can who do what, son?” my mom asks while chopping some celery.

“Y/n,” I take my hat off to scratch my head. God, she makes my skin crawl from anger. “Why is she allowed to bring random guys here all the time?”

“Oh Jimmy,” Ma shakes her head. “She’s young and beautiful, let her have her fun.” She grabs the celery and turns to take it to a big pot. I follow her with angry footsteps.

“Yeah, well my trailer is 50 feet from hers Ma. I’d prefer to not have to hear her ‘fun’ every weekend.” I argued. Ma turns to look at me.

“Maybe if you brought some ‘fun’ back here for yourself you wouldn’t be in such a tizzy,” she raises her eyebrow. I narrow my eyes at her, grunting in annoyance before storming into the main tent. My mother had managed to make me even more angry, possibly because she might be right.

“Elsa!” I shout throwing the striped curtains out of my way. Elsa turns around in the fold up chair, removing a cigarette from her mouth.

“Yes, boy? What is it?” She asks flatly.

“Tell me why y/n is allowed to bring normies snooping around here for free all the time,” I question, stomping up to stand in front of her.

“Its not for free boy. They often come back with their families or friends for the real show. When she picks the wealthy ones, they even buy refreshments. So, are you asking why I’m allowing free publicity?” she pauses to take a drag off her cigarette. “I hope not because that’s a stupid question.” she exhales the smoke in my face. Once again, I march away, even more heated with whiskey sloshing in my veins. “dummer junge.” I hear the crone mutter in German as I beeline towards y/n trailer. A storm opens up, pouring down rain as if matching my emotion.

•

Y/N’s POV

•

Thomas leaves wet kisses on my neck as ‘put your head in my shoulder’ plays from my old stereo. I set down my glass of wine to help him unbutton the blouse of my dress. His eyes shimmer with lust as I reach behind my back to unclasp my off-white brazier. Out of no where, my door swings open.

I snap my head to my doorway as a very angry, slightly drunk Jimmy crashes through. I freeze as Thomas jumps off me, his face flushing in fear. He just stands above us for a second, Jimmy stares at me, I stare at him, and Thomas stares at Jimmy.

“Get bent lunkhead!” Jimmy snarls at Thomas. I’ve never seen this look in his eyes before. The boy next to me grabs his shirt and bolts out of my trailer into the rain. I call for him and stand to run after Thomas, but Jimmy grabs my wrist firmly. He stares into my eyes, glancing at my chest. My cheeks reddened in embarrassment. I was a bit too tipsy and stunned to realize my whole chest is exposed.

“Let me go Jimmy!” I pull my arm away, turning around to pull the top of my dress back around my shoulders and clumsily fastening the buttons. “Jimmy get out!” I holler, too wine drunk and embarrassed to deal with his shit. I turn to face him. He just stares at me with glossy eyes and his brows furrowed in a way that almost scares me.

“Fine. I’ll just leave then,” I huff brushing past him, storming out into the thunderstorm. Jimmy follows close behind me.

“You think you’re so fucking perfect!” He shouts. I turn around.

“What are you on about Jimmy?” I shout back in confusion, my voice being crowded out by the heavy rain falling around me. The man stumbles towards me, his white shirt sticking to him as the rain soaks in.

“Everyone thinks you’re some perfect little princess!” he yells with whiskey on his breath. “You have them all wrapped around your pretty little finger, even my own Ma adores you! But not me Y/N,” he screams while toddling closer to my face.

“Get your drunk ass out of my face!” I shove him back, but he doesn’t even move. “What are you even talking about?”

“You’re perfectly normal Y/N!” he slurs slightly, seeming to not even notice that I pushed him. “You don’t need to be here! Go out into town! Get married and have a normal life with a decent guy and quit fucking sleeping with guys who obviously want nothing more than your body! You just keep getting hurt!” He screams, grabbing my shoulders and basically shakes me.

“Don’t touch me!” I slap his hands and step back. “Since when do you care about me or what I do?” I scream right back, spitting some rain out of my mouth that’s running down my face. Surely, he can smell the wine on my breath just as I can smell the whiskey on his

“Since fucking ever Y/N! I’ve always cared,” he shouts the first line, softening at the second. What? Our screams stop, the sound of the rain floods my ears. I just now feel how wet my skin is, how soaked my dress has become.

“Well you sure have a poor way of showing it,” I say still bitter, but much more quiet.

“Truth is, I’m jealous of you Y/N. ” he admits almost in a whisper, still inches from my face. “you’re just so perfect. Your face, your body… your hands. You could be in the pictures! You’re just so…” he trails off maybe searching for words. All the rage flees from his eyes and it’s quickly replaced by admiration and guilt. Before I know what’s happening, Jimmy’s lips are on mine. I’m shocked, but oddly enough, I’m not upset. The boy pulls away and puts his hand on my wet cheek as the storm continues to come down in sheets around us. “You’re so perfect it makes me angry, and I’m sorry for how I’ve treated-“

I don’t need to hear anything else. Maybe it’s the alcohol in my system, but I cant help to pull him back into another kiss. He returns the motion. Kissing me with a passion that’s been building for 15 years. He doesn’t need to speak; I can feel his guilt in the kiss and see it in his eyes. Maybe it’s foolish, but I don’t care. All I care about now is Jimmy’s lips on mine. Our kiss turns from slow and passionate to hard and desperate. Jimmy slips his hands under my ass, and I jump to straddle him.

“Lets go inside Jimmy. Let me get these wet clothes off you,” I pant in his ear. He almost runs, busting the door to my trailer open for the second time today, but this time with me in his arms. He sets me down on my feet not breaking the kiss. Wet clothes go flying around the small space in a whirlwind. Within a minute Jimmy and I are stripped down to the bone. Jimmy carries me over to my bed, laying me gently on my back.

“Jimmy,” I look up at him as water drips from his soaking wet curls onto my bare chest. “Do we really want to do this? I mean we both have some alcohol in our system,” I feel like I’m in a dream, everything has happened so fast.

“Y/N, I know it may not seem like it, but this what I’ve wanted for years. I thought I never had a shot with you, and I feared the rejection. That paired with my jealousy of your ability to lead a normal life...I acted like an idiot. And I’m truly sorry.” Jimmy admits his cheeks redden a bit. I can’t help but smile. I know this should be a sweet moment, but I’m desperate to feel the one man whose always resented me inside of me. I reach up to caress his face.

“I’ll forgive you Jimmy,” My hands snake around the back of his neck to pull his ear down to my mouth. “But only if you fuck me first.” I bite the side of his neck hard, making his breath hitch in his throat. In an instant his already bruised lips are back on mine in a wet kiss. Our tongues fight for dominance, of course he wins. His conjoined fingers reach down to spread my legs. finding his way to my entrance. He dips his hand in, moaning against my mouth at how excited he’s made me. He uses the slick to massage my clit, sending pleasure shoot through my whole body.

“You make me feel so good Jimmy,” I whimper as he leans up to look at my face. He seems to enjoy watching how much pleasure he’s bringing me. He keeps his eyes locked on mine and a big grin on his face as he dips part of his hand in my entrance, the other part still rubbing my clit. The feeling is heavenly, making me arch my back. I moan his name in praise, but he does this for women every weekend. I’m not just one of his whore customers. “I don’t want your hand jimmy,” I reach down grabbing his hand to move it away. He looks confused, almost hurt. “I said I want you to fuck me. I’m not just a bored house wife,” I bring his hand up to my mouth kiss his fingers, tasting myself in them. I want him to know that I’m not insulting his hands, I just want more than them. I sit up reaching between his legs to give his perfect cock a few pumps. His eyes squeeze shut and he tenses at the contact. “I want all of you Jimmy,” I whisper. “Lay down.” I command as I stand from my bed allowing him to lay in my place. He watches me with wide eyes, audibly gulping as I crawl on top of him. Settling between his legs, taking his dick into my mouth. He gasps, his hand quickly finding my hair, pulling it out of my face so he can watch me gag on him.

“Fuck Y/N” his words come out in a husky groan. “Shouldn’t I be pleasing you?” he asks before whispering some more profanity’s. I take his dick out of my mouth with a pop.

“Oh Jimmy don’t worry im I just getting you ready for me,” I grin, sliding his length between my fingers. “As much of a cock block you’ve been the past couple years, you have a lot to make up for,” I remind him as I line him up with my entrance, steadying myself with one hand on his sweaty chest.

“I am more than happy to pay up for that,” he smiles as I tease my self with his tip. “Especially since my efforts were successful. I almost feel sorry for those guys though,” as soon as he’s finished that last word I sit down slowly until he’s entirely inside me, the feeling of him filling me up making my toes curl. Jimmy lets out a breathy moan. “because if a man ever denied me this pleasure, I’ d stomp his fucking brains in. Y/N Y/L/N, you are truly a site to behold.” He grins with a look of lust and admiration in his eyes, reaching up to cup my breasts in his beautiful hands. I begin to grind slowly, my hips moving against his.

“And Jimmy Darling, you surely know how to make girl feel special even when your cock’s buried seven inches inside her,” we laugh as I begin to bounce up in down. The laughter quickly turns to moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin. Jimmy slides his large hands down to my ass to help me bounce on him, thrusting his hips up as he slams my ass down, repeatedly pounding into me impossibly deep, making me scream out his name so loud I’m sure everyone in the city could hear. A knot begins to form in my stomach and my hand finds its way to my clit rubbing in circles to help my orgasm build. Jimmy seems to be in a trance. His eyes following my body up and down like he’s being hypnotized.

“Just like this Jimmy please! I’m so close,” I scream out. My voice going horse.

“That’s it doll. Cum for me. I need it baby.” he grunts out. Jimmys encouragement pushes me past the tipping point. I come undone around him. Feeling such intense pleasure like I’ve never felt before. I clench and feel myself release, accidently squirting on his stomach, something I’ve only ever done once before. That was enough to make jimmy cum. I was only able to feel embarrassed for a second before jimmy threw me off him, barely able to get me off in time, shooting his thick strands of cum all over my leg as he clumsily attempts the stroke himself. I grab his dick, helping him ride out his orgasm. Jimmy stares into my eyes, his mouth agape, brown curls sticking to his forehead, and-

“Jimmy, are you drooling?” I ask unable to contain my smile. He quickly reaches up to wipe his mouth with his arm.

“I can’t help it doll,” he pants out, his dick still twitching. “you’re just so mesmerizing. I never imagined that I’d see you like this.” He admits. I giggle crawling up to lay my head next to his.

“Well, I’m glad you liked it, because you owe me a lot more, don’t forget.” I remind him. He reaches over and grabs the pack of cigarettes that Thomas left behind, popping one in his mouth. I grab the matches, lighting the white paper for him.

“For this? Doll you come get me, night or day,” he promises, exhaling smoke. I giggle and nuzzle into his chest. This was by far the best apology I’ve ever received.

#evan peters #jimmy darling x reader #evan peters x reader #evan peters smut #jimmy darling smut #jimmy darling imagines #kit walker x reader #kit walker imagine #kit walker smut #kai anderson smut #kai anderson #ahs asylum #ahs murder house #ahs hotel #ahs cult

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irisintheafterglow · 6 months

Note

ENEMY FRAT!GETO PT 2 WHEN IM OBSESSED

RIGHT HERE RIGHT NOW BABY

cw: swearing, mentions of eating

"i can't believe you're sneaking me out of my window like a fucking damsel."

"with all due respect, i can't exactly just knock on your front door," he chuckles quietly under his breath. his hand hovers respectfully beside your waist as you hop down from your window, the other hand unwaveringly steady in yours. you both wince at the crunch of your shoes on the crisp autumn leaves, as if the foliage wanted to rat you out and reveal you were sneaking around with the sorority's worst enemy. "very elegant landing," he teases and you stick your tongue out in response.

"next time, let's just use the main entrance," you mutter, keeping your fingers laced in his and dragging him to the side gate. "you don't even have to step on the porch; i'll just say i'm getting picked up by someone."

"your sisters would tear me like a banana peel as soon as they saw my car," he reminds you, pulling his hand away to open the passenger's side door. "and i won't say i don't like the thrill of this whole debacle." he carefully closes the door as quietly as humanly possible and creeps around the front like a cartoon burglar. you shake your head in light-hearted exasperation and his mouth becomes a smirk as he slides into the driver's seat. you suddenly curse under your breath, moving to reopen the car door. "what're you doing?"

"i forgot a jacket and we're gonna be outside, so-" you're barely finished with your thought before he's tugging off his crewneck and tossing it in your lap, just as he did during the halloween party. when you pull it over your head, it's warm like a space heater and rich with his cologne. he's left in an equally enticing black tee and you stare out the window to fight the fire on your face. "thank you."

"mhmm," he hums absentmindedly, as if giving you his clothes was as natural as blinking. he starts the car with a jerk of the key and pulls out into the neighborhood, keeping one hand on the wheel and the other floating just above your thigh. you gently push it onto your leg and his thumb rubs circles against your skin. "any thoughts on where to go tonight?"

"i'm a little hungry; i've been working on a midterm for hours," you suggest and he nods in agreement. as if on cue, a soft but persistent rumbling sounds through the car and you can't help smiling. "seems like you need some food, too."

"my beautiful date was taking a little long to get ready, unfortunately," he remarks with a sly sparkle in his eye and you roll your eyes.

"you're the one who showed up twenty minutes early," you argue, giggling at the panic that coursed through your body when you saw his car pull into the driveway. his eyes met yours through your bedroom window (you were grateful for having a room facing the street, for once) and you played a minute-long game of charades to tell him to leave. in the end, your hand practically slapped the call button, urgently whispering to park around the corner until your sisters left for a party. "i was so scared they were going to come out with sledgehammers and wreck your car."

"suddenly, it's a crime to be punctual," he laments melodramatically. "you gonna put on music or are we gonna sit here in silence? i don't mind either." the sarcasm in his tone doesn't escape you and you wonder again why, exactly, you kept letting him sneak you around like a secret royal lover.

"you are so indirect, geto suguru." he snorts out a laugh while you plug your phone into the aux cable of his car.

"last time i was direct, a guy ended up on the floor."

"true. any requests?"

"you know i like anything you play," he replies so tenderly that your brain short-circuits momentarily. "except for that musical shit. i'll only do that when we're at karaoke."

"speaking of, am i still invited to that karaoke thing tomorrow night?"

"of course, you are." the car pulls into a fast-food drive-thru and he rolls down the window. you're grateful that he gave you his sweater when the chilly air blows through the car. "and, before you ask, no. they're none the wiser."

"alright, that's good. is your roommate gonna be there, too?"

"satoru'll be there, yeah, along with a few guys a year younger than us. they're cool so you don't need to worry about them," he reassures you before leaning out the window and ordering all of your favorite items off of the menu. after dragging you out of the sorority house so many times, he'd memorized your favorite things and could read you instantly to know what you were in the mood for. he was nothing like your sisters insinuated his frat to be. "i'm excited that you wanna go," he says while you're eating in the parking lot. you have french fries scattered across your lap, but he thinks you'd never looked more beautiful.

"i'm just nervous that someone's gonna recognize me," you admit and he shakes his head.

"they won't give you shit if i'm there," he states with absolute certainty. "i'm the strongest, remember?"

"why is it that, whenever we're together publicly, you're somehow fighting for my honor?"

"you act as if i don't enjoy it," he replies with an arrogant smile. "i'll be your hero anytime, sweetheart."

"i can't believe you have such a large ego for such an unassuming demeanor." he scoffs and shoots you a mischievous look.

"you know what else is large-"

"alright," you stammer, shoving a chicken strip into his mouth to shut him up. "that's enough from you."

"hey, you're happy to be out with me, right?" your eyebrows draw together at the seriousness of his voice. it makes your heart race and your palms become clammier.

"of course, i am. i've never been happier."

"good, because i wanna keep doing this."

"doing what?"

"being with you."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#geto x you #geto x reader #geto x y/n #suguru x reader #suguru x you #suguru x y/n #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #suguru fluff #geto fluff #ask iris!

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obsessedwrhys · 20 days

Text

Aesthete

(adj.) Someone with a deep sensitivity to the beauty of art or nature

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ where Abby let's you draw a portrait of her

c/w: fluff, reader is female because I refuse to believe she's straight 😡, abby being insecure (?), gun talk, some cursing, just two lesbos bickering like a married couple, kissing, did not proof read this!!

ᯓ★

Inside your shared room, you somehow found yourself painting on another canvas after just telling yourself you'd be done with your last one. Since you were a kid, you've always been drawn towards anything that had to do with brushes and colours. It was better spending your time painting rather than talking to people, they were always rude or just straight off insensitive. All except for someone...

Abby...

She always adored your skills. Everytime you were assigned to go on patrols together, she would just peek her head from behind your shoulder to see what you were doodling in your journal. Out of everyone you knew, she was the one constantly bragging about your drawings to her friends. And you guys aren't even dating!!

Yet... which you always liked to tell yourself.

With your brush applying another soft stroke on the canvas, you started to grow bored of it, another idea already crawling up from the back of your mind. Maybe you could try doing a portrait, you have the experience but you just don't have the subject. Almost out of instinct, you knew who to find. Pretty much the only person you'd figure would be fine with this.

Abandoning your brush and pallette on the round chair, you decided to leave and try to find Abby. It wasn't hard to find her since she would spend almost all of her time in the gym. Swinging open the glass door, you headed in and walked past several other WLFs who were also training, your eyes glued to one person.

There she was, doing bench presses as usual.

You decided to stop a few feet away from where she was, almost like you were in a trance from watching her biceps flex each time she lifted the heavy weight. Not wanting to be seen as a creep, which you already have, you walked closer to make your presence known. "Hey Abby" You said with a smile. Your voice startling her a bit.

"Oh, hey" She said before setting the weight back to its rightful place. She sits up on the bench as she looks at you with a friendly smile. "You need anything?" She said, always kind and polite towards you that it somehow made you feel all giddy inside.

"I was wondering if you'd liked to be the subject of a portrait I'm doing" You said and your words struck her a bit. She looked like she just received news of something big. "Uhh... if you're worried about the portrait turning out ugly, I promise I'll be extra focused on the details" You said, figuring if that was the reason behind her reaction.

"Huh? Ah no, I wasn't worried about that. I'm just surprised you'd pick me" She chuckles awkwardly as she stands up, her height scaring you a bit. "Did you expect me to pick someone else?" You asked, the two of you walking side by side.

"Well... maybe I figured you'd choose someone more... elegant" She said, holding the door open for you to go first. "Elegant?" You scoff out of amusement.

"Didn't you show me one of your books? Where all of the people drawn were wearing those tight dresses and having their hair up so high" Abby said, recalling the memory.

"Pssh, that's different, trust me, I know what I'm doing" You opened the door to your room, inviting her inside.

"Whatever you say" She responded with a playful smile. Once you closed the door, her eyes were already examining around the room that's messy from all of your art stuff.

"Seems like you didn't take my advice" She said, looking at the stack of books you had thrown along with the pile of discontinued drawings.

"I'll do that later" You said dismissively since you realised everytime you cleaned your supplies, you were always gonna use it and make a mess anyways, best to save it for a day where you have the energy to clean.

"Soo uhh... what do I...?" Abby walks over to where you're busy setting a brand new canvas.

"You can just sit at the sofa so you can be right in front of me" You said, putting everything in place and she just does what you instructed. She finds herself seated in front of you and it somehow made her shy. Does she pose or...? This is all new to her.

"You can move your body around a bit, just try not to move your head a lot, so uh... relax" You said, already picking up your brush. "Got it" She said as she leans back onto the cushion.

With your focus on the portrait, you failed to notice the way she was watching you, her gaze was full of warmth and admiration. She was eyeing your every move as if she was watching a film.

"I never got to ask, how did you learn to paint?" Abby said and it made you stop in your act to think it over. "Can't remember exactly when, I just knew it was fun to do so I kept doing it" You simply responded and she smiles softly at your answer. "Fun huh? Is that why you're doing a portrait of me?" She said and her playful tone made you almost freeze in place.

"I guess you could say that" You said, your hand carefully doing the shades of her face. The room remained quiet for a moment, just faint sounds of your brush mixing together different colours on your pallete. "Can you lift your head up a bit?" You asked and she does just that. "Perfect" You said and quickly press your brush back on the canvas.

Your eagerness had her struggle to contain a smile. "If only you were this passionate about your gun training" She said since this was a topic that you could care less about.

"I don’t really like guns, it's too violent for me"

"True... but its also the reason why you're still alive. C'mon, at least fix your aim" She said which had you turn to look at her.

"Whats wrong with my aim?"

"Errr..." She trails off, struggling to find the right words but you were well aware of what she was trying to say. "Just try not to have your bullets flying everywhere" She said, her response having you raise an eyebrow at her.

"... don't make me draw a hairy moustache on you" You threatened which had her laugh.

"Am I supposed to find that scary?" She asked to which you pointed the end of your paintbrush at her to warn her to be careful of her next words. This action just encouraging her even more but for her sake of not wanting a horrendous looking moustache on her portrait, she'll stop.

After a while, she let's out a soft sigh. "Getting tired?" You asked, your face hidden by the canvas so she couldn't see you.

"A bit" She admitted with an embarrassed chuckle. Your head peaks from the side of canvas, trying to mimic the sweat that was still present on her forehead due to her earlier workout.

Without even realising, you were basically staring at her face a little too hard. It was funnier from Abby's perspective cause all she could see was your pair of eyes staring at her so intensely. "Am I too far away? You're looking pretty hard" She joked, pointing out how your brows were slightly narrowed.

You ended up shushing her which she found amusing. "I'm thinking, don't disrupt my thoughts" You said.

"Yes ma'am"

After a couple of minutes, you managed to finish the portrait, just a few details here and there then you were finally satisfied with yourself. "You can get up now" You said as you carefully added some tiny dots or lines. Abby pushed herself off the sofa and stood beside you.

"Damn" She said, blown away by the portrait you had done of her. It was like a reflection in a mirror. "What are you gonna do with it?" Abby asked as you stepped back to finally admire your work. "I don't know... maybe I'll hang it up somewhere in my room" You said. This caught her interest almost immediately. "You want a portrait of me in your room?" She asked, seeming embarrassed.

"Well do you want it in your room?" You asked which made her go silent.

"It's fine, I really don't mind, you'd be surprised by how many scary things I've painted and displayed on my walls" You said, carefully picking up the canvas and moving it to the other side of the room. Abby simply follows you with her arms folded.

"Comparing my face to scary things doesn't make it sound any better" She said and you could sense a tiny hint of frustration in her tone which had you chuckle to yourself. "Stop being a baby and help me hang this up" You said after finding a open spot on the wall to put it.

"You.are.unbelievable" She shakes her head slightly with a defeated smile as she takes the canvas from your hand before standing on the chair to hang it on to the nail.

Once she was done, she stepped down from the chair to stand beside you. The two of you now staring at the portrait.

"I have to admit, you're really gifted" Abby said and it made you turn your head to look at her. "Thanks" You smiled at her compliment. The second she turns to look at you, you felt yourself melt at her stare as if her blue eyes were hypnotising you. You swore for a second you could see hearts popping up around her.

Why is she looking at you like that?

Like you're the single most beautiful thing she has ever seen

"If you uh don't mind... could I stay for a while?" She asked, her voice so soft it was intoxicating.

"Sure" You blurted out without even thinking twice.

Noticing how flustered you looked, Abby tilts her head with a grin. "You okay?" She asked but her tone was anything but concern, it was like she was teasing you, knowing the effect she had on you.

"Yeahh, I'm good" You turned around and began walking back to your supplies, feeling as though you needed to escape her presence quickly to be able to think straight.

"Are you sure? Cause you looked like you wanted to kiss me just now" She said and it stopped you from reaching out to your brushes. Your mind was short circuiting.

Fuck this woman...

"And what if I said I wanted to?" You managed to say since it was easier that you weren't looking at her.

Suddenly you could hear her footsteps approaching you from behind, almost like each step she took added a weight in your chest. The tension on you shoulders relaxed the moment you felt her hands placed on them, gently, she turned you around to have you face her.

"Then kiss me" She said, no, pleaded. Her face showing how much she also wanted this.

You leaned in closer to her, the two of you haven't even kissed yet but just from the feeling of your chests pressed together made you both breathless. Eventually you pressed your lips on hers, taking it slow as you wanted to savour this moment, but it didn't last long as the desperation started to grew.

Within seconds, you were kissing Abby hard and she did the same, her hand wrapped around the back of your neck while the other is placed on your hip. The kiss was messy. Your hands grabbing at whatever you could on her body as you were completely lost in the taste of her.

Your touch was driving her crazy as well, thinking back to the countless nights of how she much she wanted this. To have you this close, to have you melt just from her lips. Out of breath and feeling tired, you pulled away but Abby didn't let you and quickly pulled you back in for another kiss. Her action causing you to yelp and for a sec she felt her stomach flip. She chuckles.

"So pretty" She muttered before pressing her lips back on yours again and again, not wanting the moment to end.

"Abby..." You laid your hands on her arms and she pulled back to admire you. The mess she had made of you.

"Yes...?" She said, gently caressing your face.

"You keep kissing me and I'm gonna pass out" You said and your words had her chuckle softly.

"Sorry, can't help it when your lips are so sweet" She said, her thumb rubbing on your cheek affectionately.

"Did you think this would happen when you asked me to come over?" She asks.

"Ummm... maybe?" You said. You had a feeling something might happen but you never thought it'd turn out like this.

"I've just liked you for a very long time but I wasn't sure you felt the same" You confessed and her smile grew wider.

"Seriously? What, was me bragging about you to everyone not obvious enough? Should I have been starting a fan club for you so you'd find out better?" She teased and you smacked her on the shoulder playfully.

"Maybe you should, then I'd know that you actually liked me" She sighs, pretending to act like she's regretting this missed opportunity.

"You're right. Maybe if I did start a massive fan club dedicated to you, we would of had this kiss sooner" She said, leaning in closer to have her forehead rested on yours.

"Well we're here now aren't we?" You looked up at her, a smirk on your face.

"True" She then started to move and you couldn't help but let your eyes flutter close, waiting for her to kiss you again but somehow the feeling of her lips on yours never came.

You opened your eyes and found her actually moving her lips inches away from your ears instead. "How about we clean your room now, hm?" She said which had you in disbelief. She was now reminding you of how dirty your room is after just kissing you.

"If tidying up my things is so much fun then sure" You moved away from her but she was quick to follow you.

"If I get to spend more time with you, I don't see anything boring about it" Abby said, already on to arrange your stack of unorganised books. You watch her with a look of gratitude, knowing this mess is gonna take a very long time to clean.

"Thanks Abs"

"You can thank me with a kiss after we're done" She shoot you a cheeky smile which had you roll your eyes with the corner of your lips curving upwards.

"Fine" You stood beside her to help with putting your books in order. Seeing how focused you were, Abby couldn't help but have her hip nudging yours on purpose to get your attention. You chuckle, knowing this cleaning session is gonna take a while.

(Now I'm gonna do super duper angst Ellie, this plot has been stuck on my mind 😄)

#CHAT IS THIS REAL #BEEN CRUSHING ON THIS IDEA FOR SO LONG #abby tlou #abby anderson #abby tlou2 #tlou2 #the last of us #the last of us 2 #abby x reader #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x y/n #fluff #x reader #abby anderson tlou2

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