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cherry-leclerc · 5 months

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so long, london ☆ ln4

genre: angst, toxic relationship traits, fluff, humor, established relationship, one-sided, smut

word count: 7.3k

You've never been read so easily by someone until he entered your world. All is good, all is true love, but realistically, that all comes crumbling down. Leaving you with a series of doubts. The kind you ignore because why not?

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...penetrative sex, m!receiving, f!receiving

inspired by this and this !

To be completely fair, the accent wasn’t all that familiar to you. It’s odd, then alluring, then it makes you curl a brow. Australian? British? Irish—no, that’s too far off, ridiculous, really.

It’s the end of spring, which means it’s also the start of summer, which also means your job is in full force. Which is good if you’re still considering transferring to London to study abroad. You were, thank you very much, which is why you needed a shit load of money.

Being a waitress isn’t all that bad; the view was breathtaking. Laguna Beach has always been and always will be. It’s impossible to take away its charm.

The diner is small, yet crowded, so it’s hard to get through with a stack of breakfast plates atop one another. A piece of bacon slips past you as you let out a curse, mentally noting to clean it up on your way back. “An order of pancakes, french toast, two hashbrowns, bacon, four freshly squeezed orange juice—shit. I forgot, it was grapefruit, wasn’t it?”

Setting down the plates as carefully as you can with their assistance, you let out a sigh. “I’ll be right back—”

“It’s fine, mate. Orange juice is just as good.” His voice is soft and rough, all at once.

You halt, fixing your apron, awkwardly. “No, it was my mistake, I’ll fix it—”

Mmm, delicious, his friends chime in as they take a sip from the fresh beverage. The blue eyed boy signals with his dark brows. “Told you. Don’t worry about it.”

“Cool,” you mumble. “Enjoy. Oh, and let me know if you need anything.”

They don’t, which is quite upsetting since you were slightly curious to find out if you were right. Smoking a joint, you hear a loud cough. The mysterious brunette waves. “Tough shift?”

“Of course not, I love it.”

He nods. “I’m sure you do, but I’m also sure that’s not the complete truth.” He sits. “You’re on your break, I presume, which means you're not on the clock, which means I’m no longer a customer, but rather just a stranger. A stranger whom you will most likely never see again, so…”

A puff expands through the blue sky and yellow sun. You squint. “I’m worn out. Down. Worn down? Both.”

“You’re good at hiding it.”

A chuckle. “But you were able to notice which obviously means I’m not much of an actress.”

He motions over to the cigarette. You hesitantly hand it over to him as he sucks sharply and releases. Bemused, you make a face. “I was because I go through the same thing, oftentimes. More like all the time.” Another hit. “I understand.”

“I’m not sure whether I should feel seen or scared…” Humor laces your soft voice as you quirk a brow. He laughs.

“Seen, definitely.” A beat. “I’m Lando. Foreign visitor.”

Shaking his hand, you ease up, smiling, gently. “Nice to meet you, Lando—foreign visitor.” A pause. “Resident.”

“Really, now?” He plays along, teasing. You can hear it.

“Lucky, I know. Been here my entire life. Can’t complain.”

“I bet.”

“Yourself?”

Lando winces. “England. Bristol, specifically. Ever been?” Nope. A toothy grin. “Don’t—rains all day long, gloomy all year. It’s depressing, but…” He relaxes. “It’s home.”

Staring off into the waves, you cover your face from the strong breeze. Salt air splits your tongue in half as you wipe your mouth. “Your accent. It’s captivating. As soon as I heard it, I grew jealous.”

The Brit frowns. “Your accent is much better. Clean,” he adds and you let out a snort. Accent—what accent? He rolls his blue eyes. “That one. You might not consider it one, but it is. Very…pretty.” A rosy tint flourishes onto his cheeks. Summer heat, summer breeze, perhaps.

Retreating the roll from his hand, you stomp on it, letting the light die. “Thank you, Lando from England. You made my day.”

That’s the end, really. Just a nice encounter that still doesn’t make much sense, but you’re glad it happened. Normally, after a tiring shift, you borrow Benny’s surfboard and rush towards the killer waves. The soothing water releases a lot of the built up tension that lies between your shoulder blades.

Today isn’t much different. After getting yelled at for— “getting the fucking order wrong, bitch” —and— “my toddler just threw up, yes, oh, nevermind, had a…teensy accident” — you don’t second guess it. As soon as your skin connects to the warm temperature, you sigh in sweet relief.

“I need to get out, I need to get out, I need to—”

“You just got here, though. Plus, the water feels nice, don’t you think?”

Startled, you sit up on your board, rocking back and forth. With what looks to be a painful tan, Lando smiles, sheepishly. “Hello…again.”

“Are…” You look around, but the ocean is practically empty. “A-are you stalking me?”

His smile drops. “W-wh—no! Of course not! I saw you from afar, and I just thought…” He grimaces. “I should go.” Except he can’t. Every chance he tries to tread away, the waves only push him back. It’s comedic. “One sec…crap. One more—shit. Okay, two, two sec—”

“Ah, forget it, stay. Land of the free, no?” Rubbing your nose, you pull his paddle closer. “What brought you out here?”

“Heard it was a good day to attempt to surf. Tell you what—it’s not.”

A giggle escapes, then lessens. You furrow your brows. “Hold on a minute; are you teaching yourself? As in, no instructor? Just you? Alone? Solo?”

“Yeah, what about it?” he grumbles. “I can do it.”

You’re wheezing at this point, stomach clenching. “That’s nearly impossible! I’m mean, sort of, sort of not.” When his eyes don’t switch from being offended to getting the joke, you quickly snap your lips shut. “Can I teach you? It’s not that hard.”

He gapes, curls grow more and more. They’re cute, the way they bounce when he shakes his head. “And if it’s so easy then why can’t I just do it myself?”

“How long have you been trying?”

He burns up. “That’s not the point.”

“No, that’s exactly my point. You need a mentor, and lucky for you, I’m a surf instructor on the weekends. Come on.”

The twenty-four year old is not sure he even wants to be here, suffering from an overdose of embarrassment. Every single attempt ends up with him splashing straight into the clear water. He groans for the millionth time, clutching into his board. “I think I’m done for the day.”

You don’t fight him on it. His bruised nose makes you feel bad, and his chipped lip makes you want to giggle, so yeah, that’s enough. He can taste the salt water as he smacks his lips, trying to get rid of it. You click your tongue. “That doesn’t really do anything. Not until you bathe and brush your teeth. Or rinse. Either or.”

He invites you to the mansion he’s rented for him and his friends, declaring that there would be endless amounts of alcohol, but when you decline, he rubs his jaw and grimaces. “Yeah, I’m not in the mood, either. Craving tacos?”

So, that’s what you two do; converse over an amazing meal. You can already note his skin shedding, but for some reason, it’s endearing. You even spot a couple of moles. Chewing rapidly to try and forget about the spice, he pants. “London, eh?”

“England,” you correct. He deadpans you.

“That’s basically the same thing. It’s along the same lines. Just like Monaco and Paris.”

You shrug. “London—yes.”

Sniffling, he reaches for his can of Coke. Gasping left and right, he winks to the best of his ability. “You’re a smart girl…I think. And you’ll get in…I think.”

“Gee, thanks, I think.”

He laughs. “I hope you get in. I really do, Laguna Resident.” You roll your eyes. “You won’t miss all of this, though?” The warmth, the people, everything. A bittersweet feeling runs through your veins, momentarily, before you wave him off.

“Nothing is holding me back, forcing me to stay. I’ll be just fine.”

Finally, he calms down, occasionally sneezing. The way he excuses himself makes him look very polished. Lando licks his lips clean, drumming his long fingers against his lap. Later you would find out this would be his nervous tick. A teller. A good one, at most.

“Call me? When you get there, I mean—if you want to, of course. No pressure.”

And while you may not have a reason to be a part of SoCal anymore, something else seemed to tug you to the other side of the world. “Might have to take your word for it.”

“Good.”

You grin, looking down onto your lap. Later he’d know this was your way of avoiding his stare. Butterflies, for the meantime. “Good.”

“No, no, no! You were supposed to—forget it, nevermind. Did you at least—” The stream flatlines and Lando is left speechless, headset drooping down, inch by inch. The way his eyes furiously twitch is enough for you to peck his cheek.

“It’s late anyways. Come on, let's go to bed.”

There’s utter nonsense, and mumbo-jumbo that he spills as he reluctantly follows. If Max had done this, and if Max had done that. Pouting, you cradle his face, forcing him to look at you. “You’re telling me you wish you would still rather be playing than spend time with me?” You gently slap his face and he smiles, sheepishly. “I’m hurt.”

“No, no, you’re right. Of course I want to spend time with you.” When you peck his nose, he sighs. You can faintly smell the cheap beer, courtesy of said Max, so you let out a screech, creating a distance.

“Never mind. I don’t want to spend time with you, you reek.” His smile drops and you pinch the tip of your nose. “Reek, I tell you. Go brush your teeth!”

The McLaren driver snarls, then makes his way over to your shared bathroom. “I remember when you used to be fun. Seems like a decade ago.”

“And make sure to floss!”

If you’re able to remember, you could openly admit that you did make that call. Actually, text. You got cold feet and sent a text last minute. You met up at the pub just around your dorm, the one that is only busy during the weekends, so is practically empty during the week. Hence, Wednesday night.

Wow. Your tan is gone, is the first thing he says when he sees you. It’s true. Being away from the California sun has completely changed you. A bit, but it did. Giggling, you accept his hug, finding warmth. London weather. “How was the move? I want to hear all about it.”

Oh, the move was as good as it could get. The airport lost two of my luggages, but it’s fine, I didn’t really need many dresses, because yes, you were right, it’s always gloomy. I miss Benny like a baby, but we always keep in touch—I’m actually going to visit him for his birthday. Which is in January? Yes…yes! January third.

“What about you? Work?”

First of all, can’t really consider it work when it’s fucking fun. Second of all, it’s quite swell. I’ve got a new teammate, which sort of sucks, but he’s nice. The car is a bit wonky, but I’m sure that’ll change throughout the course of the year. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.

Conversations switched from having them on a steady stool in the pub, to having them in the comfort of his flat. Plus, you two were more open and honest with one another.

Benny, yeah, it’s pancreatic cancer, and no, I’m not okay.

The team is fucking shit. My arm still hurts from last week's crash, but I’ll be fine. Please, don’t you worry, love.

Lando is an absolute angel. He pays for your tickets back home, along with Benny’s treatment. He declines the help at first, but as soon as he meets your smiley boyfriend, he accepts. I’ll pay you back. Once I’m better. Lando laughs with a muppet dive. Of course—of course, Ben.

You take care of him and his injuries. Follow doctors orders. Ice at least twice a day. Don’t forget to take your pain meds. No, for the love of God, they’re not candy, sweetheart.

It’s the best and the worst. And it’s all yours.

He’s very much obsessed with Mila as soon as she’s born. He congratulates his brother and his sister-in-law once, and off he goes, straight to the newborn. It makes you fall in love even more, which you didn’t know was possible, but here you were.

“I say give it a year or two.”

“More like five. Come on, honey, be realistic.”

“I am! Can’t you tell he adores her?” Oliver scoffs. “He’s my brother. I would know.” His wife rolls her eyes, then moves on to snap a few pictures of Lando and Mila, then a thousand videos.

“Crap. I want one,” he mentions on the drive back home. He gently rubs his thumb over your leg; you shudder. “You saw me, you were a witness, I was a good enough babysitter!”

“Babysitter? You’d be a dad, not a babysitter,” you retort, though your wobbly grin is a dead giveaway. A long finger pokes at your ribs as you laugh, scooting as far enough away as the McLaren allows you to get. “One day. Just not now.”

And he knows that’s true. He’s busy with racing, you’re busy with school; it's irresponsible. Your confirmation was sweet though—it was enough. The Brit hums, continuing the drive with a bright smile.

“One day, then.”

Baby talk was a fun thing to dream about. To think, daydream. Marriage talk? Now that’s serious.

It started on a Sunday morning; a non-race week. He’s finally back home and you're ecstatic. He was too, but that slowly goes out the window when you rush him to the room. I like where this is going, he starts when you drag him along. You bite back a smile, waiting for his noise. “What the shit?” he yelps, pulling on his curls. Spinning to face you, your boyfriend groans. “Where’s all my gaming—sweetheart,” he softened his voice, softened his eyes. “Sweetheart…”

“It’s gone! Bye-bye, adios!” You twirl around the empty room. “You don’t need it, Lando. It was rotting your brain.”

The color from his vibrant face fades, leaving him to let out a delirious laugh. “No, no, it wasn’t. Wh-why would you do that?” He doubles over. “I’m going to be sick.”

After a while of letting him drown in a puddle of self-pity, you snicker. Blue eyes look up at you; furrowed thick brows. What? “They’re in the guest room. I just needed us to paint the walls.” Releasing a scream, Lando plunges for you, picking you up and spinning you around until you flop against his arms.

“Asshole!” you yell, smacking his arm. After a series of instructions, you both fall into a pattern. He focuses on the left side of the room and you focus on the left and the right. It just makes sense.

“Stick to your side,” he mumbles, pushing you away. You burn a laser to the back of his head. “I can feel you killing me—stop it.”

“Then quit drawing, you’re ruining it!” There’s a cat, a dog, a house, his racing car, you—you presume— and Mila for good measure, but he serves her no justice as she appears to be more of a blob. Going over it with a thick layer of paint, he curses to himself. As soon as he picks up the thin brush once again, you immediately set your foot down. “No, Lando, think before you commit.”

But he must not hear you—or ignores you—because suddenly he’s drawing something unrecognizable. You almost laugh when you guess it must be a donut, but when he draws the familiar rock, you come to a halt. “Stellar, no?”

“Hardly. Looks like more of a neck guard—next!”

But he pushes you away as soon as you reach over to cover it up. “I’m being serious. I’m mean, not now, but someday. Are you…” His voice drops, slowly, and he drums his fingers onto his thigh. Your lips turn upward. “...open to it? Getting married?”

“Well,” you start and his breath hitches, nervously tapping, awaiting for your response. Pressing your lips against his, you breathe out, and he groans. “I love you, Lando. I’m more than open to it.”

He sighs in relief, kissing you harder this time, with more emotion. “Good.” A beat. “Thank you.”

Slowly, but surely, you’re celebrating your three year anniversary—in Japan, a race week—but still. Yuki specifically gives you two a list of places to visit, so it makes everything a thousand percent easier. Fifth, he grunts, throwing his helmet onto the tiny bed in his motorhome. Screw it, I’m blowing my brains out.

“Hey now, quit talking like that.” A kiss. “I don’t care if you’re upset, I happen to be super duper proud.”

“It’s Super Trouper,” Oscar yells from the other side of the wall. “Don’t disrespect ABBA like that.

“Yeah,” Lando hums, pulling you in. “Don’t.”

“I’ll pull the trigger,” you warn.

He gasps, theatrically. “You wouldn’t dare…”

“Try me.”

“I already have—sweet.” His dirty implications makes you heat up and the Australian groans as he turns up his music. Lando snickers, changing quickly. “Happy Anniversary. It’s not everyday, you know?”

“I know,” you cheer, playing with your promise ring. You beam up at the bubbly Brit. “I just wish we were home. Celebrating in the comfort of our own place.”

He doesn’t mention it, but you considering London your home—despite not growing up there—makes him crush on you harder than ever before; it's sickening. Clapping loudly, he stands up, reaching for your hand. “Then let's go back home. What’s keeping us here?”

“Yuki,” you grunt, taking his open hand. “We’d be breaking his heart, Lan. We need to do these twenty-one things.”

“Ah, he’ll understand.” A pause. “If he doesn’t then we’ll just buy his next meal to make up for it.”

Cackling, you peck his face, over and over until he pushes you away in a jokeful manner. “This is why I love you, Lando Norris!”

And he’s content, admiring the way you pack happily. He’s never seen someone so giddy to spend fourteen hours on a plane just to curl into the comfort of their bed. He’s just never seen or met anyone like you.

It was perfect.

As soon as he picks up his own digital camera, he’s in love. Part of you would be jealous, definitely, if it weren’t for him stopping to take a thousand pictures of you. One in the McLaren garage, next to his car. One where you balance yourself on a swing, eventually falling straight onto your face. One of your newly bruised nose, due to the fall. One where you’re sleeping, drooling like a—

“Delete that, I don’t even want to see it!”

Shaking his head full of curls, he runs away. “No! I happen to love it!”

“Lando!”

“You look adorable.”

“Fuck you, I’m leaving. Spend the night alone, loser.”

You don’t end up keeping your word. You get your revenge, eventually, when you pie him in his sleep. He nearly chokes, but it’s all in good fun, according to you.

But neither of you would have it any other way. You just happen to be his muse.

His greediness starts to show overnight, nearly. It catches you off guard, leaving you like a lost dog. The worst part is that it’s not directed directly at you, per se, but it felt like it. Most of the time, you’d deal with this by talking to him until he calms down, by making him a cup chamomile tea, because—

“It doesn’t help!” He paces the small room, throwing his gloves harshly against the wall.

“Studies prove—”

“Studies my ass.” An angry huff. “I just need to be alone. For a while.”

And it also catches you off guard how you don’t fight him back on it. Instead, you’re glad, fleeing out the door, straight to God knows where. Strolling, you twist and turn the thin band.

Where are you going?

“You said you wanted to be…” Except it’s not Lando. George quirks a dark brow. You gulp, forcing a smile. “I’m sorry. I thought you were…” A painful pause. “I thought you were Lando.”

“Must be the accent.” He laughs. “Don’t worry about it. Carmen actually made me chase you down. Said she wants your opinion with something about the wedding. You know her—perfectionist.”

“Oh. Yes. Of course.” Throwing your hair over your shoulder, you beam brighter this time, though it doesn’t quite meet your eyes. “I have plenty of time.”

He’s rude when he finds you. Well, not really, but even your friends notice it. I’m telling him to wear a simple black and white suit. A bow or a tie, he can decide, but he’s insisting on wearing white and I’m like hello? You giggle, orbs moving to find George with a playful glare.

“Why can you be the only one wearing white? It’s this some kind of rule or?”

“No, but it’s weird!” Carmen turns to face you, desperate eyes begging for backup. “Come on! Tell him it’s weird.”

Plump lips flicker upward. “I don’t know, George, it is a b—”

“Awful. You’re going to steal all the attention away from Caren and you’re going to look horrible. Just go with a traditional suit.”

The Mercedes driver doesn’t pay any attention to what was just said to him, but you and Carmen do, and that’s probably worse. You can tell she’s bothered by your boyfriend's unwanted opinion and for him going after her fiancé, so you briskly stand up. “Sweetheart, are you, um…ready to go?”

The Brit nods, fixing his bag that lays over his shoulder. “That’s why I’m here, no? Could have let me know you were leaving, too.” There’s tension in his voice; annoyance. “Also, I forgot your bag. I’ll wait for you here.”

His implication makes you queasy. You blink hastily. “Of course.” Turning to the older couple, you smile politely. “Um…text me, yeah? Let me know what you two decide on.”

Once you rush off, Carmen narrows her usually kind eyes, hard. George is quick, placing a steady hand onto her lap, and clears his throat. “You know, just because you didn’t place a podium for once doesn’t mean you get to act like a jerk. Seriously.”

Lando chooses to ignore his comment, bidding goodbye, and strolls over to find you, flustered. “Now I’m ready,” you confirm with a weak smile. The Brit laces his fingers through yours and brings it up to his mouth, pressing a warm kiss.

“You know I love you, right?”

“I do. I do know.”

He’s trying to be more gentle, you can tell. With his words, with his actions. It reminds you why you chose him. He had apologized after a quiet night, settling with what he had done. How he had treated you and his friends. George is quick to accept his apology, and you were too.

“I didn’t mean it,” he groans quietly, chest pressed against yours as you ride him. “I s-shouldn’t have—fuck.” The way you clench around him tightly makes his head spin. A whine escapes your swollen lips as you nod, fast, then slow, then staggered. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you pant, finally opening your eyes to find him already looking up at you. He squeezes your hips harder, keeping you firm. “You were upset, that’s all. I get it.”

She gets it, he remembers thinking, considering himself lucky for having a girlfriend who understands. His highs. His lows. His wins. He loses. This—this is why you were the one.

But once again, his lack of display is what reluctantly pushes you away.

Then back in.

It’s been three months of him not even picking up his camera. Maybe he’s just too lazy to develop his pictures, so you do it for him. There’s really no excuse. That’s what you say with light humor when you push it towards his chest, but he only cocks his head to the side. “I never asked for you to do that.”

Your stomach churns. You lick your chapped lips. “You don’t need to. I just…did it. Thought it might help get you out of your slump.”

This pushes something in him as he narrows his brows like a set of sharp knives. “Slump?” A scoff. “What? Because I haven’t been able to get a win?”

“What?” You’re dazed. “No.” You’re confused. “No, why would you say that?”

“I don’t know—why would you?”

“I mean it because you’ve been down, that’s it. Not because…” When his eyes don’t change, and your heart continues to pound, you flip him a smile. “You’re right. My choice of words weren’t the best. I’m sorry.”

The blue eyed boy clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth once, then sets the camera to his side. “Whatever, it’s fine, I guess.” And suddenly he’s making his way to his gaming room, leaving you with wide eyes and a bruised heart.

“Wait!” Carefully, you pick up the small camera, extending it out towards him. “Wh-what do you want me to do? Should I pack it into your suitcase? Or maybe I could—”

“Pack it, yes, but into a box and put it in the attic.” He continues his march. “I lost interest a long time ago, either way.”

You’re not dazed. You’re not confused.

You’re broken hearted.

You would think that you would have learned by now. He loves you, damn it. He’s just having a tough time proving it, but it’s fine, stuff like this happens all the time.

“Hello, darling,” Carmen greets, pulling you away from your trance. The camera pans over to Lance, Carlos, and Lando. She gingerly takes the spot next to you. “Feeling alright? Lost a bit of weight and color.” Her concern can’t be hidden behind even the tallest mountain.

Been working out. London is gloomy all day long. Haven’t gotten proper Vitamin D. Looking down onto your lap, you twirl your fingers. Over and under, over and under, over and un—

Her hands feel warm against yours and you can’t help but flinch, instinctively needing to pull away, but she holds on tighter. Not even your boyfriend's hands have felt as warm as hers; not in a very long time. “You can talk to me. Anytime.” Eyes remain downward, watering, so, like most nights before bed, you blink them away. Hard, fast, and cruel.

“Have you chosen the song you want to be for your guys’ first dance?”

She remains still for a second, focuses directly into your soul and you blink faster before she has a chance to decode you. She always did. “We have. My Funny Valentine. Hear this, Daniel wants to sing it. With a band and the whole thing. Nightmare.”

And you’re glad for having her stories to distract you from your feelings, because silly is what they are. Childish. False. It’s only until the end of the race where you two realize you hadn’t been paying attention. As soon as George walks in through those doors, he jumps up and down. “Hey. Top five!”

“That’s my boy!”

You feel like a creep watching them kiss with sweet emotion you can’t help but miss and crave. Your eyes flicker over to the flat screen T.V. and you’re shooting up from your seat. “Shit! I have to go!”

He’s in the middle of a speech of some sort when you rush in gasping for air. Sheepishly, you wave, then scoot closer to Zak who gives you a quick side hug. Everyone claps and then he’s making his way to—

Not you.

First it’s Zak, then he squeezes by. Then it’s his entire team. Then it’s Oscar. Then it’s Carlos, which is the last straw because he’s not even supposed to be here. “Mind if I squeeze in?” you squeak. The Spaniard shakes his head.

“Be my guest. I should leave anyway.” “Are you sure?” Lando quips. “Why don’t you stay?”

Brown pity eyes dance over to where you look down, then settle with a wobbly smile. “I, um…I actually have a few emails to respond to. Stay, Carlos.” It’s pathetic and embarrassing how he’s the only one who convinces you to stick around. Not even your own boyfriend. Though his hand remains by your side, it feels all for show, which it is because as soon as a few fans take a couple of pictures of you two, he finally retreats his arm.

Once the Ferrari driver finally jogs away, Lando turns to face you. “Where were you?”

“I was watching the race.” Your heart beats faster.

“Liar. Your lips just did the thing.” A halt. “What thing?”

“There! There it is again! You didn’t watch it, did you?”

Taking his palms into your own, you kiss them, feverishly. “I was, but then Carmen came over, and we started to talk, and then one thing led to another and…” Blue eyes stare down, empty. You grimace. “I’m so sorry, Lando. You got second place and I wasn’t there to celebrate. I’m so sorry.”

And perhaps he feels he already made you suffer enough with his ignorance, or maybe he was still high off his accomplishment, but it surprises you when he leans down to peck your forehead. “Just don’t let it happen again, yeah?”

You let out a breath of relief. “Pinky swear.”

He laughs, ruffling your hair. “Ah, see, I don’t believe in pinky promises.”

“Take my word for it then.”

He winks. “Good enough.”

I can’t believe we haven’t had a sunny day in weeks! Flipping over to face him, you pout. Weeks! That’s bonkers.

The Brit hums against his blankets, against you. It’s officially been a year since you two have been dating and it honestly felt surreal. Especially in moments like these. The kind where he was just yours.

I tried to warn you.

You groan, pressing your cheek against his firm chest. His heartbeat is slow and steady, indicating he’s half asleep, indicating you were too awake. Indicating you should probably go to sleep, too.

Guess I’ll just have to learn to live with it.

Guess so.

You know…I sort of love it.

You say so because you haven’t lived here your whole life.

I could easily, you want to confess. If it’s with you, then yes, I can. But it’s too soon and you don’t want to scare him off. Not when things were a dream. Cloudy, sunny, rainy, sunshine—I don’t care. I have a good enough reason to stay.

He vibrates due to his chuckle and you giggle due to his chuckle. Look at you being all cute.

Not trying to be cute, just speaking my truth.

In one motion, he flips over you, hovering. You love it? Like truly?

I love it. I truly love it.

Make me believe it.

Are my words not enough?

He grins, eyes crinkling. I’m more of a pinky promise type of guy.

You lift your small finger and he’s fast to wrap his own around it. Pinky swear. I love you and London.

And it was true. It was true for a while.

It all came crashing down on you, really. It was alarming, yet you had expected it. It was lonely, but survivable. It came in phases. You first noticed the doubt a bit after your third year anniversary, but no, he loves me. I know he does.

But you were good at pushing it all away; far, far, and further. Until you couldn't think about it anymore, even if you tried. His acts were a suck punch, though. Everytime you started to heal and stand up, he only sent a new one. A stronger one. But, hey, no—he loves me. He only says it every night.

Like last Monday night. When he fucked you in his hotel room.

Or last Thursday. When he went down on you under the table.

Or Friday. When you sucked his cock in the shower.

All right before bed.

God, I fucking love you so much. Hot cum shoots down your throat and he groans like a madman. Love you so, so much. You can’t even begin to imagine.

So, when your friends ask and check up on you, that's what you say. Yes, he reminds me everyday. He means it. Don’t worry, we’re doing better than ever.

The second comes in like a slap to the face. He had just done what you consider a low blow, but no—he’ll make up for it. He always does.

“Bullshit.” You blink your hot tears away. Carmen never—ever—curses. She’s too classy for any of that, so it’s almost funny to hear it now. But it’s not, not really. She sighs, rubbing her temples. You and your problems were stressing her out, God, how could you be so selfish?

“Forget I said anything. I’m being a fucking crybaby—”

“No. You’re not.” It seems like she’s choosing her choice of words, delicately. “You have every right to be upset. Every. Single. Right.”

And for the first time in a while, you feel completely seen. Heard. Understood. And that was a lot, but it must have been what you needed, because suddenly, you were spilling the ugly truth. The reason why you didn’t attend the last race. Or the one before that one.

The reason why she and George found you clutching onto your chest that night in Vegas. Forgot my keys, you giggled. You two have fun! Don’t worry about me.

Carmen is older, wiser, and so fucking mature. You love it. But you hate it because now that you sit here with more of an open mind and less defense, you blink like a lost kid at the grocery store. “You love him.”

A whimper. “I adore him.”

“A lot?”

“Infinitely.”

“But?”

Another whimper, louder this time, more wet. “He makes me sad sometimes. Is that normal?” “It is—” And it’s the delusion that always makes you stay. You’re quick to swallow it down, eager and fast. It’s all you need to hear. Carmen shakes her head. “But not to this extent. You get sad over them forgetting your favorite drink order, or when they forget to pack your heels.” An unwanted pause. The kind that gives you the room to overthink. “Not because they locked you out. Or because they forgot your anniversary.”

And she won’t admit—not when you were already so broken—but Lando hadn’t forgotten.

She likes wine, fuck, she’s obsessed with that sparkly shit. Wine testing! We could go wine tasting and I could do it there. He twidles with the ring box. Is that good?

George raises a playful brow before releasing a laugh. It sounds great. As long as you have a nice place to take Instagram pictures, then you’re set to go. Chicks love that. Isn’t that right, love?

But she pinches her lips, forcing a smile to the younger Brit. Lando lets out a shaky breath. It’s about to be our four year anniversary—it’ll be perfect. I’ll make sure.

So, yes, she knows he loves you. But that still doesn’t make the way he treats you right. What kind of love was that? Sobbing loudly, you push your hair back. “But you don’t get it! When he’s good…” Her eyes soften and yours grows more glassy. “...he’s so good.”

“Is it worth the pain, though?”

The third one is the breaking point you had been avoiding for so long. The day started out gray, either way, and not just because of the dark London weather. Dragging your feet to the end of the bed, you tremble. You got the call at four a.m. and those are never good, so why were you shocked to hear from Benny’s son?

“Oh, baby…” He pulls you atop his lap, kissing your temple. “I know how much he meant to you.”

“I still owe him a surfboard. The expensive kind, too.” He quirks a confused brow, but you continue staring off into space. “They stole the last one. The one he always lent to me. His mom had gifted it to him.”

“When did this happen?” he questions, trying to keep you talking because that sounds like a good idea. To get your mind off things.

You hum. “Last January; his birthday weekend.”

“Birthday weekend? I don’t recall—” “You weren’t there.” He doesn’t have to remember to know that’s true. It's become a habit of his nowadays and now he’s feeling guilty. Another hum, this time sadder than the prior. “He was going to teach you how to grill steak, just the way I like it.”

His stomach churns. “And how do you like it?” A beat. “I don’t remember. Ask Benny.” Then you’re crying like a newborn.Worse, actually. But he holds you through it all. So maybe this was do-able. He was nice, after all. You could stick with him forever and you’d be grateful. After what seems like a decade, you finally calm down, though your nose keeps runny. “The funeral is later this week. Are we going?” You were, with no fucking doubt, but you just wanted him to say it. There— on the tip of his tongue. You can spot it and he could taste it.

“Sweetheart…you know I have a race.” You didn’t expect him to drop everything and venture off with you, but this cut deep. Still, you understood. Plus, the proposal was ditched the moment you got the eerie call. So, yes, everything was unbalanced, but it wasn’t your guys’ fault. It was just a twist of fate. Nothing you couldn’t handle; you’ve dealt with worse.

“Right. I can go by myself.” He feels bad—you know he does—but anything, really? “You can write a letter, maybe? Just a couple of words for his family. I know it’ll mean a lot.”

He chuckles. And you should have known at that very moment because it wasn’t one you’ve heard before. “Why would I? I barely even knew the guy.”

“Excuse me?”

The Brit continues tracing shapes onto your thigh. “I’m just saying! It sounds a bit weird coming from someone who spoke to him once. Twice at best.”

And you’re no longer dazed, no longer confused, no longer heartbroken.

You’re just angry.

Pushing yourself off him, you glare coldly. “Barely even knew…the guy? We Skyped with him over dinner! You paid his bills! You fucking attended his sons wedding! How could you be so…fucked.”

“Sure… He was a sweet lad, but do you really think they want to hear from me?”

“Maybe not, maybe they don’t give a flying fuck, but I do. Remind me why I loved you!”

He’s up now. His heart quickens, pierces through his skin. “Loved?”

You sigh, clutching your chest. “Love. I said love.”

A huff. “No, you definitely spoke in past tense—do you not love me anymore?”

“Lando…” “No. Just be upfront with me, I can handle it. Tell me now so I don’t waste my time any longer.”

Every uncertainty you ever had, every word of advice Carmen has given you comes crashing down. She was right. He’s keeping you around for good fun. For his benefit. “Your time? What about mine? You’re the one who’s been blocking me out these past couple months!” “That’s not true—”

“Fuck, you’re right—this past year. God Lando! Haven’t you noticed how good I am at apologizing now? My zombie appearance? You left me out in the hallway! All because of what? Because I didn’t tell you I was going out with the girls?” A sour laugh. “Wake up—it’s 2024. Since when are you a shitty masochist?”

His jaw clenched. “I was worried about you! It was fucking Vegas, what was I supposed to do? And for the love of God, this again. I. Didn’t. Hear. You. Knock.”

A peach seed forms onto your chin. Skin is flushed and tears stream down your face. But he’s fine. He’s tall and firm Hard headed. Without an ounce of regret. And you want to do it. You want to make him feel what you’ve felt.

“I got my degree…”

“Woo-fucking-hoo, we’re not talking about that right now.”

“I lived a few good years, filled with pure happiness.”

He pauses.

“But I see it now. Past all the gray clouds, I see it.” He can feel it coming and he’s desperate for you not to say it aloud, but you shrug it, face downward. “Nothing is holding me back to stay.”

His tone washes away like the Laguna waves as he gets closer to you, cradling your face. “Yes. Yes you do. You have me…”

“Lando, quit lying—I haven’t for a while now. I was just a trophy you didn’t want. One you got bored of.”

“That’s not—” “True?” A beat. “It is. And you know what also is? I don’t love you anymore.” The light in his eyes gave out, pitch black. He feels as if he’s going into cardiac arrest and you…you look at ease. Peaceful. Free. With a soft smile, you push his hands down. “I don’t think you love me anymore, either.”

“Don’t say that,” he pleads. “Please, don’t say that. Of course I love you.” Rushing over to his nightstand, he pulls out a box you only ever dreamt of. “You want proof—here! Take it! It’s yours anyways.”

“Where was this a year ago?” Opening the velvet box, you’re left with an inaudible gasp because of course it was gorgeous. And he feels a gist of hope when you place it onto your ring finger, but he slowly pales when it doesn’t fit.

“No. No. That’s your size. I know it is.” He takes it from you, analyzing it in an accusing manner. “I swear it was, I pinky…” The heater kicks on. “I swear.”

“It’s alright. This is the right ring…just not for me.” It shouldn’t affect you to see his cheeks grow splotchy, to hear his voice tremble like a kid who just skinned his knee against the pavement. But he was once your other half, so it does.

“I don’t want you to go…”

“I don’t either. I loved being here.”

“Then stay.” You purse your lips, then scrunch your nose. “It doesn’t love me, though. And I can’t go unwanted.”

If we start saving enough money then we could buy the house—you know—the one close enough to drive to your parents? Sweet, no?

Won’t they hear us fuck?

Ew, gross. No. I’d tape your mouth before I let that happen. You pinch his ear. This is your home.

And SoCal is yours, so why don’t we move there?

Because I don’t want to. I want to be with you and the people you love, in the place you love. Because I love you and I love the people you love, and I love London.

You’re quite literally perfect. I hope you know.

You make it clear everyday.

And I won’t ever stop. Because you deserve to know.

“This place is cold, the way you said it was. This place is gloomy, the way you said it was. But this place isn’t a home to me anymore…the way I once thought it was.”

Should he have been more careful—more caring—then he wouldn’t be here. This wouldn’t be happening, but it is. And it’s no one’s fault but his.

Sniffing, you rub your swollen eyes. “I’m going to pack my things and go to Benny’s funeral.” It's a declaration. He nods, attentively. “And I’m not coming back. Is that okay?”

No. It wasn’t okay. You’re tearing him in half, you’re stabbing his heart over and over again. You’re telling the truth and putting yourself first. Something he was awful at doing. What brought you two to this very moment in time.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I treated you the way I did.” I love you. “But if that’s your decision, then go on. Do what you need to do.” I love you.

“Good.” I love you. But I can’t say it aloud if not I’d stay forever.

You smile and he smiles back.

“Good.”

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bambiesfics · 11 months

Text

⊹ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐭 ⊹

warning: water-sports, extreme overstimulation, graphic depictions of lesbian smut, r!receiving finger bang, sarcastic Ellie, fluff + loving at the end.

vague description: reader has a full bladder and is trapped in Ellie William’s hatchback.

author’s note: re-upload of my fic from last blog, also don’t read this in public. It gets intense.

“Pinup paradise diner…home to… ‘The World’s Bustiest Milkshake Jars?’”

You read, with your face nosed deep into the crease of the monotoned map. You deflated back into your seat, irritated at the amount of eye-strain required to make out such small font. And let the roadmap blanket the top of your thighs.

“Is that where we’re going next?”

Ellie's eyes were intently focused on the red Honda Civic in front of her, the one she’d almost rolled her windows down to spit at, less than a minute ago. Her stacked bracelets clinked as she cracked the knuckles of each one of her boney fingers.

“Is that what it says on the map?”

You flipped back to the legend, squinting at the list of diners, drive-ins, and street trucks. The corner of her plump smile quirked, hearing you mutter,

“Jesus, how do you read this thing?”

Your squint jumped between Ellie and the page, “uhhhh…yes?—yes!”

“Then that’s where we’re going next.” She crudely cracked her pinky last. The last finger with chips of black nail polish speckled on it and a snug silver braided ring that hugged it. She settled into her seat, merging onto the left lane.

“Pinup Paradise? Really? Seems like an odd choice for a drink after going to Whopping Wrap.”

You flipped the map neatly back onto your lap as your girlfriend flicked the blinker up.

“Milkshakes after chicken wraps Ellie? Really?”

“Hey—Tommy said they have the best milkshakes this side of the state. That type of man, the fucking lumberjack he is, does not fuck around when it comes to satiating that gnarly sweet tooth.”

She muttered “He probably has cavities bigger and darker than the cracks in the Grand Canyon.”

And your tiny giggle teased a smile out of Ellie, as she half-heartedly blocked the swats you struck at her with the rolled up map.

Your girlfriend got such a fucked up kick out of busting Tommy’s balls, and he knew it too.

She flicked the signal light up higher once more and cruised right into the strip mall lane that led the car through to the drive-thru, the diner growing closer each second.

In a smooth slow crawl you and your girlfriend rolled towards ‘Pinup Paradise Diner.’

A canary yellow, vintage diner, littered with paintings of 50’s pinup models that decorated all of the glass windows.

A drive-thru swinging sign read ‘The World’s Bustiest Milkshake!’ above the order window.

You were incredibly humored, noting all the double entendres and puns that weaved through the slogans graffitied across the menu board and windows.

A young crew member poked her head out of the order window, smiling tightly before asking for both of your orders. She watched on while Ellie fished for her peeling leather wallet in the back pocket, and poked her head out of the side of the hatchback window.

“Hey, can I grab a blueberry crust milkshake? And she’ll have….” Ellie trailed off, shooting you back a look with her eyebrow raised.

“…What’ll you have?”

“I’ll have a vanilla bean milkshake please. Also could I get a bottled water, if you have that?”

“Okay, so right now we only have the 1 liter sized bottled water.. would that be alright?”

“Ah, I’m sure that’s no problem, I’ll take it. Thank youuu.” you sang, and the girl mirrored your gentle smiled. You settled back into your seat and she closed the window.

“Why’d you get water?”

Ellie observed, hastily touching up her upper and bottom lashes with mascara, in the dash mirror, before she had to put her foot on the gas.

Vain. You teased in your head.

….But so pretty.

The mascara made her already long lashes, even longer. Her dark brown eyeliner was smudged, yet the grittiness was still so attractive on her. “You should wear brown eyeliner more Els. It really brings out the green in your eyes.”

She side-eyed you suspiciously.

“Thanks?…”

And you rolled your eyes. Your girlfriend loved to pretend she was allergic to compliments unless they were talking about her earth-shattering service top abilities.

Ellie grabbed both your milkshakes. And used her teeth to rip the paper cover off her straw while passing you your drink.

She put her foot on the gas and peeled out.

“You still didn’t answer the question.”

“What question?”

“The question of what possessed you to buy an entire liter of water?”

“Because like, you know the sweet aftertaste left in your mouth after you eat something really sweet? I don’t know, but it makes my mouth feel dry.”

“Ah.” she responded.

“…that’s actually real as fuck.”

“Right?” You settled deeper into your seat. Hugging the milkshake to your chest while you stalked a few instagram stories, relaxing into the rhythmic roll of your girlfriend's beat up hatchback.

Townhouses and parked SUV’s started running on either side of the car as Ellie drove on, deeper into suburbia. You pushed yourself up to gaze out the window.

“Where are we going?”

Ellie turned right into a smaller street.

“To find a place to park. I’m tired of driving.”

“Hmm, sorry baby” you hummed as you rubbed her thigh. Your eyes lit up. “Then can I drive your ca—”

“—no. When will you stop asking?”

“When you finally let me drive it? Let me behind the wheel please.”

She scoffed, eyeing you up and down. “So I can end up with my knees touching the back of my skull? Yeah no.”

“You’re not funny Ellie.”

“And you’re the only passenger princess I’ve seen whining to do her girlfriend's job. Be a lady, damn.”

You broke down laughing, clutching your chest while Ellie bit her lip down to put a lid on her own laughter.

You shimmied close to her, your breasts squishing her upper arm.

“Then can I have some of your blueberry shake?”

She circled the straw around your mouth and made you chase it.

“uh ah-uh-hah—Ellie.” You whined.

Ellie barked a laugh at how adorable you looked, and then slotted the straw onto your puckered mouth.

“Mmm…”

“You like?”

“Yeah it’s so yummy. I should’ve gotten that instead.”

Ellie attempted to take her milkshake back, but with some struggle as you leaned further and further into her seat, pressing your front body into her arms just to keep tasting it. You were practically finished your own drink, and were now drinking half of hers. And in that moment you recalled at all the previous times your girlfriend had gripped your ass and whispered how you were a greedy little princess in your ear. Ellie was an asshole through and through.

But she spoiled you, and she loved doing it.

You eased back, and Ellie stole her milkshake back. She circled her tongue around the tip of the straw before sucking it. Wrapping her pink lips around the sticky tip your rosy lip gloss had covered seconds prior.

You dropped your empty cup in the cup holder and went to chug most of your water. It provided an indescribable amount of relief from the saccharine blanket on your tastebuds. A cool feeling that settled in you, as Ellie pulled into a grassy park parking lot.

Willow trees lined up along the curb, their weeping pose provided shade to several lots, including the one above you.

Ellie killed off the engine. She tipped her head against the headrest in relief. She flexed her fingers, stretching out the kinks, feeling the breeze run past.

Her head lolled limply to face you. “Do I really look that good in brown eyeliner?”

“Yes you really do.”

Ellie’s cheek dimpled.

“I love when you tell me stuff like that.”

“Like what? That you look pretty?”

You murmured into her shoulder, looking up at her.

“Yeah, makes me feel…dunno, not like a greasy loser.”

“Please, as if I would ever let a greasy loser bag me.”

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Jesus, kill yourself.”

She maintained eye contact with you, green eyes jumping between your own. Reflecting the amber beauty of the sun in its sparkle. She gave you a soft smile, you gave Ellie one back. A truce to the constant teasing. And Ellie took it as an invitation to dip her head down, and pull your lips into a kiss. One she’d been yearning to do since she’d first reversed both of you out of your driveway.

Ellie chased the kiss into the back seat. She gripped the fat of your hips to inch you slowly off of the center console and towards the back. She followed, kicking her loose driver’s seat forward with the sole of her sneakers. The slide adjusting rail had seen better days, and had been owned by better people than the currently horny, blunt, ungraceful young lesbian who had an avid penchant for violence, that owned it that day.

Ellie teased her hand up from your hips to the base of your neck, to grab the back of your head as she worked her puffy lips against yours. She was hungry for your little mouth, and it was seen in the way her jaw flexed.

Ellie kissed you with a remarkably intense eroticism.

Her hands ran down over the fabric of your milkmaid top before ripping the holes away from the buttons to let your tits spill out right into her hands. Each nipple immediately kissed the waiting pads of her thumbs, as they moved to greedily massage the sensitive head. Grazing each of your puffy tender domes over and over. “Fuck, need to suck these heavy tits baby.”

Ellie’s lips made their way down your chest. She suckled some swollen red marks into the skin, before making her way lower. Coming eye to eye with your nipples.

“Can you please squeeze your boobies together?”

You took your palms and pushed them together. Ellie's whiny sigh sent heat pooling in your tummy. She leaned in, licking a greedy stripe across both nipples, tickling their head with the tip of her tongue, tonguing the flesh around both areolas. And suckling your nipples intermittently then popping off them. Leaving both of them so puffed out.

Your squeaks filled the expanse of her small car, and her aroused groans joined to match.

She shoved her fingers in the waistband of your tiny denim shorts and tugged at them. They budged, but barely, so you helped your girlfriend. You lifted your ass off the seat and slid your shorts and thong down your thighs, before Ellie slid them the rest of the way off your ankles and threw them in the front seat.

The soft breeze blew past your cunt. Exposing the warm skin to a cooler environment.

“S-should we be doing this in a park?” you squeeked.

Ellie kissed her answer on your lips “there’s” *smooch* “no one” *smooch* “here.” As she shoved her hand down to palm the fat of your vagina. Feeling your pussy fill up her fingers. Ellie curled a middle finger into your tight hole, it barely wanted to split apart to accommodate her finger. But she marveled at how hungrily it sucked her in. She pumped shallowly before adding in her ring finger.

Her chrome ring grazed the swelling mound inside your hole; your g-spot. And it pulled a pathetic mewl out of you. She curled her wrist up, ligament appearing. And pumped harder. Enjoying your shaking thighs in the air.

Your brain was melting into mush. And all you managed were barely coherent babbles.

“…feels ss-s'good” your eyes were rolled backwards.

“God bunny…” Ellie marveled, “your pretty pussy’s so greedy.”

Ellie’s teeth dug into her lip “How did I bag you?”

All you could muster were delirious squeak noises in response as you tugged on the base of her ponytail.

“Look-look down” Ellie’s fingers grasped your chin, pulling your eyes away from her flushed aroused face and towards your own shiny pussy. “L-look at how you’re swallowing my fingers.”

Ellie’s forehead knocked against yours.

“Hey…c-can you squeeze for me?”

You never disobeyed her instructions, not when you both were like this. Nodding limply, you clamped around Ellie’s fingers, a choked moan escaped you. And a deep, throaty groan escaped her. Feeling how tightly you suckled in her fingers, how badly you wanted her there, made a warm heat throb between Ellie’s legs and left her boxers sticking to her sloppy cunt. Ellie could almost cry that she couldn’t bully a cock inside you, just to feel that desperate clamp around her cock.

Her ring pushed into your plump inner walls over and over, and dragged a new delicious zing of pleasure through the ribbed inner walls. Puffy, swollen, and sloppy with slick.

Ellie had a newfound resistance in her thrusting, the clamping, warm grip of your puffed out walls were holding her fingers still. But she kept pumping, like a suction cup being stuck on and popped off.

You were assaulted with thrilling pleasure from your walls clamping, chasing the press of her jewelry. And from your girlfriends frenzied, desperate thrusting. Ellie was just as hazy brained as you.

It was a costly mistake. All of the fluttering was stimulating your pelvic muscles. Which stimulated the other tiny hole snuggled in your pussy. The familiar pressure of a full bladder pressed behind the teeny hole of your urethra. Your squeaks came out strained. You scooted into different positions on the seat, trying to ebb away the pressure.

The shifting positions only made it worse as your tummy squished from movement, and as Ellie pumped upwards.

She jack hammered her fingertips against the puffy roof of your warm cunt. Her feverish ministrations put so much pressure on your bladder. You choked out a breathy plea.

Your hands skated up your girlfriend's torso, past her exposed waist and pebbled nipples that strained against her t-shirt, and finally towards her square shoulders in an attempt to push her back.

She needed off.

“I gotta…uhn… I gotta.” you whimpered.

“What was that?” Ellie sighed.

“I-ah!” The thrust felt so good.

You were whiny “th-think I needa pee.”

“I’m fucking you so good it’s got you confusing cumming for peeing? Y’so adorable it’s insane.” Ellie kissed your lips, picking up her pace.

She took the hand she’d used to squeeze and pinch your tits and brought it down to press on your lower tummy, as she thrust up.

Oh.

“Nnnnhnhn no! ph-please ewwie.. can’t—hold it.” You babbled the same desperate plea incoherently, but with a mouth nearly paralyzed from the incessant abuse of your hole Ellie was doing, you were left whiny and gulping, babbling tiny sentences at a time.

Sweat pricked at your skin, an orgasm was fucked into your vagina, and a full bladder pressed at your urethra. You didn’t know what to do as the mounting climax forced against your urethra left you with a desperate need for release, in the car.

Ellie’s lips kissed your jaw, snuggling against your head.

“You wanna let it out, big girl? Make a big mess f’me. We can clean it all up later, I promise.”

“nuh—ah Ellie no no…aghh! ”

Your urethra let out a thin light spurtle. Settling into the space between you two as more slick gushed out of your hole. You sobbed through your orgasm, from the joint pleasure of climax combined with relief from pressure pressing against your urethra. Ellie kept fingering you through each tiny pump of liquid that squirted from your urethra and through each contraction of its sloppy wet vagina, as slick spilled out of you and ran past your bare ass, onto her leather seats. With each aggressive thrust of Ellie’s fingers—fuck in—pull out—came out spurt after spurt, from each hole. She slowed down once you fell back into the seat softly; boneless and glass-eyed. Like an abused rag doll.

You both caught your breaths, Ellie from the aggressive thump and heat in her pussy. And you from your ‘accident’.

Ellie watched as the looming embarrassment creeped every so slowly onto your face, as the orgasm slowly ebbed away. She placed shaky kisses on top of your head. Cupping the back of it in support.

Sure, maybe her car wasn’t the best time to explore that kink. Seeing as the bottom half of her shirt and her belt was wet.

But she wasn’t going to let her girlfriend curl in on herself in shame, just because of her body’s natural reaction. Especially one that Ellie practically fucked out of you.

If not for the small space of the car she might’ve pulled you into her lap, to kiss away the upset creases between your brows. But she could do nothing more than hover above your trembling body, and caress your squished tummy with her free hand, until the shaking eased.

She was breathless. “You did so good, baby.”

You shoved your face into the crook of Ellie’s neck. The sweet cologne on the collar of her shirt calmed you down, with its medley of gourmands, lavender and florals.

Your girlfriend had a way of grounding you. Everything about Ellie had the ability to. From her cold, icy fingers, to her soft, pine scented hair. To her woodsy cologne, always left on the collar of her shirts, ready to tranquilize your unrest.

“nuh-uh I—.”

“—So good. My good girl, doing exactly what I tell you too, c’mere.”

Ellie unplugged her fingers out from your hole and suckled the last bit of slick cream off, then swiped it on her shirt. She licked her lips. Using her now clean hand to cup the side of your jaw and draw you into a heated kiss that left both of you trembling.

You shifted positions in the seat from discomfort.

“You still need to pee s’more?”

“No.”

“Babe…”

“Maybe.”

Ellie reached over and opened your door, then hopped out from her side. Jogging over to shield your body.

You crouched in behind her, her and the car towered over you from both sides.

You pouted up at her, and she glowered down at you. Her arms crossed firmly as she looked away briefly to scan around the area. Before parking her gaze back down at you as the remaining stream from your bladder emptied itself.

“No more vanilla bean milkshakes.” you winced at the feeling of the breeze tickling your swollen labia.

“Of course. Yeah, that was the real culprit. Not the mega-giant 1 liter water bottle.”

You frowned.

Ellie’s arms dropped from their cross, and her black fingernails pinched the fat of your cheek and pulled teasingly.

She reassured you.

“Yeah sure, we’ll blame it on the vanilla bean milkshake.”

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churipu · 9 months

Text

JJK MEN & THEIR SLEEPYHEAD GF !

featuring. toji fushiguro, yuuta okkotsu, choso x fem! reader

warnings. absolutely nothing

note. anon, first of all, again, i'm so sorry i accidentally put your post up in the queue list when it was unfinished and the pen symbol wasn't there so i screenshotted this before deleting the og post. i hope this post comes to find you by itself :(( second of all, thank you for liking the first part, means a lot to me <33 last of all, hope you enjoy this one!

TOJI FUSHIGURO. i feel like he's the kind of person who doesn't mind having a sleepyhead gf, in fact he'll gladly sleep with her no matter what time or place. he'll just look and then you're asleep, all of a sudden he's asleep too.

people find it odd how you and him are able to just doze off anywhere, especially toji being a pretty "busy" man. would ditch his work sometimes just to have a nap with you, and i feel like he's the type of guy who would use you like a bolster when you both sleep. so you just lie there, arms by your side — while he on the other hand, is all up on you, holding you close to him.

sometimes toji would chuckle upon seeing you asleep at the most random time and places, in a diner, in a fast food restaurant, in the park standing up (and you woke up because apparently a kid bumped into your leg), just anywhere. he finds your sleepy habit quite interesting really.

"toji... 'm tired."

"when're you not, hm?"

he absolutely loves it when you just clung onto him like a koala for a nap, makes him feel proud (oh and i feel like he's the type of person who would take pictures if you sleep with your mouth open with a string of drool coming out of your mouth, he says that it's adorable. you don't think so though).

YUUTA OKKOTSU. yuuta is just so adorable. i feel like he gushes out a lot when you fall asleep on him, like he will silently fawn over you but at the same time he doesn't know what to do. should he let you be? wake you up so you could sleep in a more comfortable place? or carry you to the said comfortable place?

he just ends up waking you up because of how fidgety he is, "yuuta?"

"i'm so sorry, did i wake you up? sorry.."

honestly, you don't even care about the whole wake up thing. you just wanted to sleep so you always end up latching onto his side like a baby, "five more minutes."

it's never five minutes, longest is twelve hours. although yuuta doesn't mind — he even joins you for a bit, and if he has to go, he will make sure you're tucked in well and comfortable with a pillow fort he built just for you incase something (the monsters comes for you) happens.

CHOSO. i feel like he gets confused at first to why you're always falling asleep near him, he even asked this "Google" to that — and Google did not in fact help, but instead drove him into a state of panic because it told choso that you were dying. so when you fall asleep the next time, choso wakes you up almost immediately.

"don't die on me."

you didn't know what he was talking about and assumed that he was just messing around so you closed your eyes, and he had a full blown breakdown because he thought you were actually dying.

but when you told him it's because you feel safe to sleep near him, he's never been so much happier. and whenever you fall asleep, he always has a blanket ready for you both. so here's how it goes, you fall asleep and lean your head on his shoulder, he drapes the blanket over the both of you, he leans his head onto your head and falls asleep.

you both always end up in such an uncomfortable position after (either with your hand or foot in his face, or vice versa), but you guys never cared, at least the sleep was good.

"cho, get your foot out of my face before i bite them off clean."

"'m sorry, it just happens."

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #fluff #toji fluff #fushiguro toji #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #jjk toji #choso #jjk choso #choso x reader #choso kamo #female reader

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rosenclaws · 11 days

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Hi! 👋

I saw your requests were open and I was wondering if I could submit a request?

The reader is a shy artist who is a friend of Wades. She carries a sketchbook with her everywhere to sketch new pieces, but she doesn't show her work to people unless it's to Wade.

She and Worst!Logan become friends and slowly develop feelings for one another, but they won't say anything to each other because they think that the other wouldn't want them. Until Worst!Logan finds her sketchbook by accident and finds the book is filled with sketches of him. Worst!Logan confronts her about it, but she's a stuttering mess, and they end up confessing to each other. And please make it extra fluffy. Maybe throw in a kiss or a makeout session. Your choice lol.

Thank you and have a good day! 😊

Hidden Feelings and Hidden Sketches || Worst!Logan Howlett x Reader

warnings: drinking, swearing, wade making suggestive comments, make out sesh towards the end, reader gets drunk and logan helps her out. Logan also calls the reader sketch. It got kinda suggestive at the end I apologize sldfjka

a/n: Hi!! This idea is adorable omg I love it, I hope it was fluffy enough for you I have to admit I'm not great at writing pure fluff. I also hope wade is funny because I am not funny so its hard to write his dialogue sometimes. I also altered the plot a little so i hope its okay

You never quite understood how you and Wade became friends. He was possibly the biggest extrovert you have ever met and you were the exact opposite. He saw you once at his favorite diner with your sketchbook and he jumped into the seat across from you.

Yapping on about your art and if you drew often and that he once tried to paint but the class didn't appreciate his art and asking if you'd paint him naked as a present for his girlfriend. Which you declined very quickly.

He wouldn't leave you alone, talking and asking you all sorts of things. You getting a few words in and him covering the other 98% of the conversation. He left with the promise of seeing you again and disappeared before you could say anything else.

It was an odd experience that's for sure but you liked Wade. Sure enough he kept coming back and a friendship had blossomed. He invited you over to dinner multiple times but you always declined, choosing to meet at the diner instead.

Slowly he got you out of your shell around him. Cracking jokes and sometimes putting him in his place when he went a little too far. You showed him your sketchbook after a while and he gushed over your drawings. Begging you to draw him at his best angles and you would sometimes give in.

When he disappeared for a while you got worried, that is until he showed up with a new dog and a very handsome new friend. You couldn't take your eyes off of him. Wade spotted you and waved but you didn't even notice.

"I know right, he's like a tall glass of rage filled water." Wade sighs as he sits across from you.

"I uh what?" You hug your sketchbook close to your chest as you rip your eyes away from Wade's new friend.

"Oh don't pretend like you weren't eye fucking him the second he walked in here, not that I blame you." Your eyes widen as you start to stutter. Your face heating up as you stare at the pancakes in front of you instead. A loud grunt catches your attention. You can barely meet his eyes as your brain is too busy being embarrassed by what Wade had said.

"You can sit on my lap angel cakes." Wade pats his leg but gets shoved to the side as his new friend sits down across from you.

"Logan this is my friend, be a good kitty and play nice." Logan rolls his eyes and chooses to ignore Wade. He does look at you though, burning a whole through your skull.

"Hi Logan," You say shyly.

"Hi." A few beats of silence pass until Wade breaks it as usual.

"Well aren't you two the life of the party, if you excuse me I have to go relieve myself." Wade stands up and instead of asking Logan to move, starts to climb over the man.

"What the fuck?!" Logan hisses as he grabs Wades shirt and tosses him to the ground. You can't help the laugh that escapes your mouth as your friend flops to the ground.

"So rude." Wade shakes his head and heads off to the bathroom. Silence falls once again as you awkwardly push around the pancakes on your plate.

"What's that?" Logan asks, nodding towards your sketchbook. You grab your book and shove it into your bag.

"Nothing! It's uh, just a sketchbook it's nothing don't worry about it." Logan raises an eyebrow as you panic in front of him.

As if you couldn't feel more embarrassed. You debate on waiting for wade or just leaving to save yourself but Logan makes the choice for you.

"You don't have to stay, not holding you hostage." He sips his coffee as you let out a shaky laugh.

"Not much of a talker." You play with your fork as you look up at Logan. He's much more handsome up close.

"Neither am I." He offers a small half smile and you return it. He's still incredibly intimidating but maybe you can stick it out a little longer. Logan's food comes and the two of you eat in a comfortable silence and when you're done you work up the courage if he'll be here tomorrow. He holds the door open for you as you step outside.

You clutch tightly onto the strap of your bag as you wait for his answer. He lights a cigar and you try and suppress your smile when he says he will be. As you part ways you realize that Wade never did come back from the bathroom.

That sneaky bastard.

-on

The diner uh, meetings as you called them, with Logan were amazing. His grumpy exterior was hard to crack but eventually the two of you started to become friends. Being with Logan started to become your favorite parts of the week. He was more than the tough guy persona he put on. What surprised you the most is that he seemed interested in you too. Well you know as friends.

Logan could appreciate someone who liked the quiet. He never pushed you out of your comfort zone, never made you feel uncomfortable. He was just Logan. Call it what you want but it was only a matter of time before you fell head over heels for that man. Not that you'd ever tell him.

How could you?

He's a superhero. He's gorgeous and grumpy and funny and so much more. All you do is draw silly pictures. So for now you settle on friends. Even if he makes your stomach turn with ever smile. Even if his laugh is the best thing you've ever heard. Friends. That's good enough for now.

"Wade Wilson I am going to kill you!" You say angrily.

He had texted you asking you to meet him for coffee and you had agreed solely because you never got the chance to scold him for his little dine and dash.

"Leaving me alone with a stranger!" You slap his hand as he tries to reach for your pastry.

"Ow! That was so five months ago! Anyways I was just trying to help. You know, relieve the sexual tension." You gasp as he makes a very lewd gesture with his hands.

"Besides, you and Logi bear are spending a lot of time together for just being friends huh Boo-Boo." Before you can stop him he reaches for your sketchbook. Keeping it just out of reach as he flips through the pages.

"Give it back!" You plead as you reach across the table.

"Oh. My. God. How come you never draw me this sexy?" He shows you the pages and you fall back into your seat in defeat.

You know what's in there and now Wade does too. Pages and pages of sketches of Logan. You feel like a stalker. It's not your fault! Ever since you met him he's all you can think about. All you can draw.

"Please give it back." You beg but he refuses.

"You'll get it back after you admit to Logan how you feel."

"What!" Your jaw drops as you make another lunge for your book.

"I am a very impatient man and I'm not about to wait another thousand words for the two of you to fuck." He stands up and tucks the book down his pants.

"Ew really?" You groan as you let your face fall into your hands.

"I'm having a get together and you're invited. Logan will be there it's the perfect opportunity." You feel like throwing up at the idea of talking to Logan about any of this.

Maybe you could just steal it back tonight. Or maybe you could never show your face to anyone ever again. Yah the second option sounds better. If only it was that simple. You waited for many anxiety filled hours, the only thing on your mind is getting your damn book back. You knock on the door and it swings open with Wade standing there, a stupid smile on his face.

"Honey badger at 4 o'clock." He hands you a drink and pushes you right towards him. You shoo him away, taking a deep breath and head towards Logan.

"Hi Logan," You say nervously.

"Didn't think these were really your thing." He says with a smile. You laugh nervously and nod your head.

"Yeah well...I thought he'd finally stop asking if I came to one of these things." You joke. Logan snorts and offers you the seat next to him.

"Good luck with that." You sit next to him and swirl around the ice in your drink.

If you're going to tell him then you're going to need a lot of help. Logan's eyes widen as you down your drink in one go, making a face before asking for another one. He's never seen you at a party, let alone drink.

"Why don't you take it easy there sketch."

"It's a party right, why not have a little fun." Logan keeps an eye on you as you drink and drink. As the night passes on he realizes that you might have had a little too much. You can barely get a sentence out by the time the party's over.

"Hi Logii!" Your arms slink around his neck as you stumble into him.

"Come on, let me take you home." He chuckles as he helps you to the door.

"Nooo, I needa get my uh..." You stop and think for a moment.

"My uhhh" Logan hums as he helps you to your apartment. You stay close to Logan as you walk through the night. He's just so warm and he smells so good.

"Got your keys?" You pat around for them and frown. Logan reaches into your bag and pulls them out.

"Right here." He unlocks your door and helps you to your bed. You sigh as your head hits your pillow.

"Oh! my sketchbook. Wade has my sketchbook." You say with a yawn.

"I'll get it back tomorrow, now sleep well." Logan takes off his jacket and lays it on you. He brushes your cheek gently. A soft smile on his face as he leaves you to sleep peacefully.

"Good night."

God your head hurt and the sun was way too bright. You crack your eyes open groan as you head pounds. What were you even thinking last night? You wanted your damn book back that's what you were thinking. A loud knock on your door makes you moan in pain. Getting up you swing open your door only to be met with Logan holding your book. Your face pales as you see a smirk on his face.

"Wade gave me back your book." You reach out for it but he holds it back.

"You're a real good artist sketch." To your horror he opens up your book and flips to one of its pages.

Right in front of you was a side profile sketch of Logan. It had been while you were at the park or something. The sun was hitting him perfectly, he had this content look on his face. You couldn't help but draw it when you got back home. To capture him in a moment where everything felt okay.

"I uh..I.." You don't know what to say. He caught you red handed. Your face is on fire from shame and embarrassment as he finally hands over your book. You can't even look at him.

"I'm sorry." You whisper. Shutting your eyes you hope he gets the hint and leaves, leaves you to wallow in pity.

"Sorry? Why are you sorry." He grabs your chin and tilts your head up.

"I'm flattered sketch. I think you really captured me pretty good." You still can't bring yourself to say anything as you hug your book tightly. You can't tell if he's making fun of you or what.

"This isn't funny Logan." You try and push his hand off you but his grip is strong.

"Not trying to be funny." He brushes his thumb over your lips.

"Logan..." Your eyes flick down to his lips and you know he catches you.

"Say it, come on don't be shy. Not with me." Sighing you dig your fingernails into your book.

"I love you." Your voice is barely above a whisper, eyes squeezing shut. You almost hope he doesn't hear it but of course he does.

He presses his lips to yours roughly. You drop your book in shock as you melt deep into his kiss. Wasting no time in kissing him back, hands wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. He deepens the kiss as his hands fall to your sides. You pull away much to his disappointment, his lips chasing after yours for a moment.

"I love you too." He kisses your jaw lightly making you sigh.

"You know, those drawings were good but I think you got my lips wrong." You furrow you eyebrows, you thought you got his lips pretty good. After all you stared at them long enough to memorize them.

"Yeah sweetheart, think you need a lesson." He walks you back until you hit your couch.

"Get up close and personal." He winks as you bite your lip. How flustered can he make you?

"Then maybe you can show me more of those drawings."

Well, If it would help make your drawings more, accurate. Then who are you to say no?

"Okay." You run your hands along his arm as you look back up at him. Nerves and excitement swirling around your eyes.

"Don't worry sketch, I'm a pretty good teacher."

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine #worst!logan howlett

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fluorescent-if · 6 months

Text

| DEMO 10/30/24 | RO INTROS |

| pinterest | playlists |

Welcome back to Misty Cove!

Your hometown that holds all of your best memories from childhood. Days where you spent all of your time with friends, exploring and playing. The most notable thing about both you and your hometown however, is what started happening in your teenage years. After you and your friends uncovered a mystery about the high school you all went to, you starting finding more odd occurrences across the county, and well, it's not like anybody else was going to solve them.

You and your friends because a team of detectives. Most your teenage years and early twenties were spent solving odd crimes across the country. You were all best friends.

That was until four years ago when...

Well, you're not sure you can remember anymore.

It doesn't matter right now. Welcome back.

'Return to Misty Cove' is a horror/mystery Interactive Fiction game that is inspired by Scooby-Doo, Soul Reaver, and the works of H.P. Lovecraft. This work will be rated 17+ for gore, violence, swearing, death, body horror, and possession that might not be suitable for everyone.

Customize your MC's appearance (gender, height, body type, ect.) develop their personality and become the linchpin of your mystery solving team.

Find out more and possibly solve the mystery that has been haunting your hometown.

Rekindle, or destroy old friendships (and maybe develop romances) with your former team, and meet others along the way.

Have an animal companion! (dog or cat)

RO's & Other Major Characters

Cameron "Cam" Morris (M/F) [RO]- Tech-savvy and mechanically minded, Cam is currently working as a mechanic after you and your group broke up, they are currently going to grad school for mechanical engineering, and still sends postcards and pictures to you. They are likely the sweetest person you have ever met, even if sometimes they are too kind to people who don't deserve it. Out of the four of you, Cam was always the one who needed to do what was right, no matter the cost, and even if what they thought was right at the time hurt in the long run.

Ollie Cohen-Reyes (NB) [RO]- Ollie has always been interested in macabre and strange, spending hours researching in the library any and every topic they were interested in. They get along with very few people, but once they are able to get close with others it becomes easier, and they become sarcastic and witty, and feel less uncomfortable talking about their interests freely. They work as an adjunct professor in forensic anthropology.

Rose/Rory Thompson(M/F) [RO]- They are a loyal person, first and foremost. When the group broke up they somewhat lost their purpose, but they ended up settling and working as a bartender in Misty Cove. Having taken boxing and self-defense classes from a young age due to their paranoid parents, R was always the best when it came to physical confrontation with the cases you investigated, even if outside of this they never seemed like someone who had that much power. They have become far more aggressive and assertive than the person you knew as a child, now having the attitude to match their technical know-how.

Terra Clarke (F) [RO]- You originally knew her by a different name, but she started transitioning early on life, and Terra is the only name you can remember now. Normally when you say it it's followed by a nasty comment. Terra was never someone you got along with when you lived in Misty Cove. She was antagonistic towards you and your friends, but a lot has changed since the last time you saw her. She now owns her Grandpa's diner, and tries to take good care of the people of the town, especially since the mayor won't do much. She is always exhausted now, but is very happy to see a familiar face, even if your history is muddied because of both of your actions.

Randall 'Randy' Clarke - Terra's grandfather and former owner of "Randy's Diner" always very kind to you and your friends, even if you all never got along with Terra. He has been running his diner since the 60's and has faith that his granddaughter will uphold the legacy.

Ana Lloyd - (An-uh) the mayor of the town of Misty Cove. Trying to "restore the former glory of the town" as if she didn't move here less than 2 years ago, and was the only person who ran when the former mayor died while in office. She has been selling some of the old public spaces to business developers as a way to "expand the town and bring in new people".

Mrs. Ms. Emerson Talbot- Your former English teacher from high school, you never got along with her that well. She, now in her 70's has only gotten more bitter. You just hope she doesn't hold grudges.

Dorothy Giles- Your co-worker, likely the only one in your office who has a soul anymore. A woman who would go to the ends of the earth to protect the people she cares about, even if those people are just 20-somethings that she has taken under her wing.

(Things are subject to change throughout the games development)

#interactive fiction #interactive novel #intro post #misty cove-if #if wip #twine if #second try for the intro post #I learned how to code to make this game out of spite #misty cove if

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midnight-bay-if · 6 months

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"If silence claims the waters of Midnight Bay, death has come to stay."

"Every day, I miss him, and every day, I’m scared that I’ll miss him less. That one day, I’ll wake up, and I won’t remember how his hair would stick up in odd angles in the morning or how black he liked his coffee. That the bedtime stories he would read me before bed no longer guide my morals nor parse their wisdom in his voice..."

If you ask me why I still seek revenge, this is what I'll say: I will not forget.

Because nothing could be more terrifying than the idea of time passing without my father's death having any justice or resolution, and years down the line, I’ll be sitting in this diner with you, but we won’t be talking about my dad at all anymore."

Come on. Let's kill the killer.

Demo: Out Now (26,000) words.

Simon/Simone [f/m] Task Force Leader. Human Simon/Simone comes from a wealthy family with a long history of government service and civil partnerships. Simon/Simone is somewhat of a black sheep and is estranged from a large portion of their family. After a bout of teenage rebellion, Simon/Simone find themselves enlisted in the military to ‘correct’ their behaviour. However, with a penchant for leadership and a tactician's mind, they are recruited by a strange, secretive organisation with questionable goals.

After two more victims of 'The Bay Slasher' are found discarded on the bay, Simon/Simone drives themselves and their team into town, on orders from their mysterious higher-ups, ready to put away this killer for good. But cases such as these are never simple, and even more so with a far too clever and far too perceptive P.I. hot on their heels.

Rain [non-binary] The Mediator. Supernatural type; Pixie Rain grew up in a very wet biome of the world associated with fairies, pixies and elementals. After a great conflict, Rain was practically herded into the arms of a greater power, who guided them into the arms of Simon/Simone, who became their new leader.

When Simon/Simone tells them that one day, they will be going to the practically derelict town of Albach Bay to catch a dangerous killer, they shrug, smile, and pack their bags without a second thought. It doesn't take long for them to realise this isn't a typical case, even by their standards.

Taj [f/m] The Infiltrator. Supernatural type: Qita Taj is part of an ever-shrinking community hidden well in the Egyptian underbellies. Qita are a humanoid cat race native to Egypt and were once revered by humans at the dawn of their civilisation. However, that reverence began to fizzle out when a greater power, deciding their people had become too powerful,

After a great conflict, Taj is captured and 'recruited' to join a mysterious organisation dedicating themselves to maintaining balance. Taj is ultimately led to Simon/Simone and becomes the final member of their specialised team. Showing great resistance at first, eventually, Taj learns to accept and respect Simon/Simone, so when their leader declares they are to travel to the backwater town of Albach Bay, well... Taj comes along. Though not without reluctance.

Nazu/Naera [f/m] Supernatural type: Demon Nazu/Naera is a demon prince/princess from Hael. During a terrible conflict, their great power was muzzled as punishment for their part in the war. They've been seeking the people responsible so they can regain the power they lost.

Their search has lasted more than a decade, but now... Now they find themselves in a small, human town where sin oozes from every shadow, beckoning every passer-by to partake in its debauchery. To top it off? They can hear their power singing to them. It's close. Heh... They might even end up liking it here.

Umbra [f/m] Supernatural type: ??? Umbra is an anomaly. Nothing about them is real. None of it should exist. Every facet of their being has been strung together out of sheer will and barely held together by a thread. One wrong touch and they may fall apart, like unravelling a ball of yarn or pulling apart a puppet on a string.

So, why? Why do they exist? Simple.

They exist for you.

RO's appearances:

Simon: Broad-shouldered, athletic build with reasonably short black hair and light warm skin. He has warm brown eyes hidden behind fashionable square frames and is often wearing tailored suits designed to move in.

Simone: Athletic build with long black hair (typically pinned up) and light, warm skin. She has warm brown eyes hidden behind fashionable square frames and is often wearing tailored suits designed to move in.

Rain: They have a slim, petite build with flawless tawny skin, which is amplified by their pale blue hair and matching pale eyes. They tend to opt for a more colourful wardrobe in the pastel range.

Taj (male): He has a lean build, golden brown skin, and dark, curly brown hair that tends to have a mind of its own. His ears and tail are matching brown, reminiscent of a Havana Brown cat. (He keeps them hidden underneath his clothes, which are often oversized to hide this face.) He also has very serious grey eyes and numerous scars marking his body.

Taj (female): She has a lean build, golden brown skin, and dark curly brown hair that tends to have a mind of its own. Her ears and tail are a matching brown, reminiscent of a Havana Brown cat. (She keeps them hidden underneath her clothes.) She also has very serious grey eyes and numerous scars marking her body.

Nazu: (As a human)He is very built with dark skin, which ensures his almost luminescent amber eyes stand out. His long, dark dreads are usually pulled up in a bun. Nazu tends to opt for clothes designed to tantalise, as well as show off the hair dusting his chest and arms.

When in his usual form, he also has large horns that curl out of his head, with a more reddish hue to his dark skin. Plus, the whites of his eyes will turn black.

Naera: (As a human) She is very curvy, opting instead to amplify her femininity in human form. Her dark skin ensures her luminescent amber eyes stand out. Her long, dark hair is in tight braids that flow down her back. Naera will opt for clothing designed to tantalise, teasing her assets in a flirty way.

When in her usual form, her horns curl out of her head, with a reddish hue to her dark skin. Plus, the whites of her eyes will turn black.

Umbra (male): Tall and lean build with black shoulder-length hair that contrasts against his pale, almost ghostly skin. He tends to have dark circles under his equally black eyes, as well as a deep scar cut through his left brow. His clothing usually consists of a black leather jacket, black pants and black combat boots.

Umbra (female): Tall and slim build with long black hair, half up in a pony, that contrasts against her pale, almost ghostly skin. She tends to have dark circles under her equally black eyes, as well as a deep scar cut through her left brow. Her clothing usually includes a black leather jacket, plaid skirt and black combat boots.

An urban fantasy/romance IF based in the fictional town of 'Albach Bay'.

Customise your private investigator: choose name, gender, appearance, sexuality, skill set and personality.

Play as male, female, or non-binary: straight, gay, bisexual, pansexual, as well as aromantic, asexual, or aro-ace.

Late 90s setting with limited technology, so be prepared to wait ten minutes for your PC to boot up.

Roleplay your private investigator how you want to. My intention is no 'game over' screens. There are no wrong answers in this game.

5 main companions to befriend or romance, each with their own personalities and stories to tell.

Collect evidence in your notebook as you scour the dilapidated streets and beaches of Albach Bay for clues to finally catch your father's killer for good.

Revenge is best served cold.

Rated 18+

#themidnightbay #midnightbay-if #if #interactive fiction #interactive story #choicescript #dashingdon #if wip #if game #choose your own adventure #hosted games

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kitnootkat · 3 months

Text

Oh? Who's this? ... Hyacinth; Jealousy, sincerity, and forgiveness.

hq masterlist .....

INSPIRED BY OBSESSED BY OLIVIA RODRIGO CHARACTERS: Sakusa Kiyoomi, Tsukishima Kei, Akaashi Keiji

MSBY! Sakusa Kiyoomi. Where were you? Sakusa has been looking around the stadium for quite awhile and for some reason you hadn’t been answering your phone. It wasn’t like you to do so, meaning all Sakusa could do was worry. Though it didn’t take him much longer to find you though, you were outside of the bathroom trying to reject a guy making his advances.

It wasn’t like Sakusa was insecure about your relationship or anything of the sort but for some odd reason, every time he sees someone try to hit on you he feels his chest start to burn. Whether it was with rage or jealousy, he didn’t know, but all he could comprehend was that he didn’t like it. Not at all.

Walking over to you, he approached you both and snuck an arm around your waist and kissed you. It was a short kiss, but he made sure the guy knew who you were dating. After speaking to you for a moment simply asking if you had gotten lost or something since it was a newly built stadium, he then finally addressed the guy who was hitting on you.

Smirking at the man's dumbfounded face, Sakusa spoke.

“Oh, who is this babe? A friend of yours?”

College! Tsukishima Kei It was almost a hundred degrees out right now and both you and Tsukishima had agreed to stop by the convenience store to grab ice cream. Usually you would be at Creamsicle, your college’s ice cream shop, but it was probably jam-packed with people and neither of you were in the mood to deal with pushy early adults.

After grabbing your ice cream you decided to go outside seeing that people were starting to catch onto the idea of cheaper, faster ice cream. You informed Tsukishima of this and he nodded knowing it probably was a good idea to do so.

Although he thought it was a smart idea, he quickly realized it wasn’t once he saw you conversing with a guy from the soccer team. Sure maybe you both haven’t blasted the fact you were dating out to everyone; but everyone did know that you two were a pair. One with tension that’s finally turned real.

Walking up to you, Tsukishima ‘accidentally’ bumped into the soccer head. Instead of paying him any mind he went straight for taking a bite of your ice cream. After a moment passes, him kissing you, he turns to the guy you were talking to.

“The line inside is getting long, you should go before you miss out.”

Akaashi Keiji Akaashi was never one to get jealous, but seeing you converse with your ex? Absolutely not. It didn’t matter if they were your ex from high school, the fact was that they were still your ex.

You both were at a nice diner, celebrating his promotion at work and the publication of the manga him and his coworker have been working on for months. He felt the urge to use the bathroom while you both were waiting for your food so he informed you and stood up to leave.

He passed by your ex on his way there thinking nothing of seeing the person but soon came to realize that maybe he should have thought about it a bit more.

You and them had dated for around a year in high school seeing them as they dropped food of to your table was a pleasant surprise. The breakup was mutual, both of you wanting to pursue different passions, meaning seeing each other was fairly nice. Talking for a moment you have both ended up talking about your love lives, they mentioned that they were married to a lovely lady and would be expecting kids soon. You talked about being deeply in love with your current boyfriend who you were here with.

But Akaashi didn’t hear that that was the topic of conversation so seeing you talk to casually to your ex had ignited an unpleasant feeling in him. Not usually one for PDA, your boyfriend walked over to your table and kissed you on the forehead before sitting down and sending an icy smile at your ex.

“It’s nice to meet you, you’re my girlfriend's ex right? Ah! I’d love to talk more but it seems there’s a table waving you over” NOTES !! :

-> This is NOT beta read so there's probably a lot of grammar mistakes sorry !! -> I wanna make more like actual posts other than my smau's so i offer this up!! -> jealousy my favorite guilty pleasure trope <33

#haikyuu #lumi's garden essays #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #msby sakusa #sakusa x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu tsukishima #haikyuu tsukki #haikyuu akaashi #hq #jealousy

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jasmines-library · 9 months

Note

Hey. Could you please do a Winchester!sister reader fic like the mystery spot episode where Dean dies over and over but can you have the reader be the one who dies over and over again while the boys watch

Groundhog Day

Note: Once again apologising for my lateness but here we are! I actually also wrote this yesterday but I thought it was only fitting to release this on a Tuesday.

warnings: death *and lots of it, It's mystery spot*, grief kinda, time loops, swearing.

Word count: 3.5k

⛤ SPN MASTERLIST ⛤

‘Heat of the moment-’

Sam sat up abruptly, awoken by the sudden racket that filled the room. After sitting up groggily and allowing his eyes to adjust to the light he glanced at the clock, hardly noting the time before he turned to his brother who was surprisingly already up and raring to go, having made his bed which he was now perching on as he laced together his boots. He felt the blankets shift around him as you tried to bury yourself into the mattress, bringing the covers over your head to try and block out some of the noise and fall back to sleep.

“Rise and shine, Sammy.”

“Dude.” Sam blinked, swiping his hair from his eyes. “Asia?”

“Come on. You love this song and you know it.”

Sam rolled his eyes and nodded. “Yeah, and if i hear it again, I’m going to kill myself.”

“Be quiet.” You murmured from behind the sheets, squeezing your eyes shut and rolling over. You knew it wasn’t going to happen but you were trying to cling onto the idea of getting more than 4 hours of sleep for once.

Dean took a break from trying his shoes to reach over and turn the dial on the radio. The song blasted louder from the speakers. He raised his voice with a grin “What? I’m sorry, I can’t hear you.”

Sam let out a light chuckle, still bleary with sleep as you sighed and sat up. Dean was still grinning at you before he began to mouth along to the words of the song. You shook your head at him before hauling yourself up and making your way to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

Dean had decided that he was going to be annoying today. You weren’t sure if it was because he didn’t want to go on the hunt and he was trying to delay it or something or if it was simply because he was being Dean. You decided on the latter because his keenness to be up and ready this morning was unusual. It started with the gurgling when he was brushing his teeth. Then, just as the three of you were about to leave, despite being up before either of you he had forgotten his pistol leaving you and your other brother standing impatiently by the door while he rooted around the motel room for it. He was irritating in the car too and you were itching to jump out of the Impala, praying for the day to end.

The diner was hardly busy when Dean pulled into the driveway. There were only a few cars belonging to passers by occupying the spaces. After securing your pistol in the pocket of your jacket the three of you headed inside. You decided to stick close to Sam; you had an odd feeling about this hunt and weren’t entirely sure what it was but something just wasn’t sitting right with you. Your brothers entered one of the booths and you slid down beside Dean who let out a content sigh as he scanned the menu.

“Hey, tuesday. Pig in a poke.” he read, gesturing to the sign.

“Do you even know what that is?” Sam raised an eyebrow.

The eldest brother opened his mouth to answer only to fall short of his words. Sam gave him a smug look and then pair fell into some sort of childish bickering that you weren’t really paying attention to. You were too busy scanning every inch of the room still unable to shake that uneasy feeling from your mind. Something just wasn’t right. Everything seems so…perfect. It made your skin crawl and you bit your lip.

“Hey.” Sam nudged you under the table with his knee, he had noted the way that you had gone silent and that you were fiddling with your hands restlessly. He knew almost straight away that something was up. You twisted to face him. “You okay?”

“Yeah. yeah.” You muttered. “Sorry.”

You nearly let out a sigh of relief when the waitress came over and distracted your brother's attention away from you. You hated the way that they stared when they were concerned about you. The three of you rattled off your orders before Dean leaned back in the chair, stretching his arm back behind you to lounge about as you all discussed the plan, only interrupted once by the waitress bringing your food and accidentally spilling a bottle of hot sauce which tumbled to the floor and smashed into tiny pieces.

The rest of the day passed by quickly after that.

You did not like the look of the so-called ‘mystery spot’. It was all overly commercialised, filled to the brim with strange and amusing objects that stuck out at odd angles or were glued to the ceiling. The darkness of the room mixed with the obscurity of the place made it come across as quite disorientating. You supposed that was the point. Your strange feeling from this morning was still lingering. You and Dean moved around with flashlights as Sam waved around the EMF. But it was silent.

“Find anything?” You asked.

Sam shook his head.

“Do you have any idea what you’re looking for?” Dean said rather loudly. He was still set on the idea that this hunt was a complete waste of time and had decided to make it everyone else's problem.

“Uh… yeah.” Sam shrugged until you gave him a look and he dropped his shoulders. “No.”

It wasn’t long after you set off to explore again that Dean’s gun was being cocked. Somehow someone had managed to catch you off guard, causing the three of you to whip around alarmed when his shaky voice boomed through the room.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” He demanded. The man was small and scrawny and would normally be no match against Winchesters, but he was wielding a gun that he didn’t seem to know how to use and his unstable finger was hovering dangerously close to the trigger.

“Woah. We can explain.” Dean started, raising his gun in surrender and gesturing for the two of you to follow suit.

The man moved his weapon uncertainly. “You robbing me?”

“No.” You told him. “Nobody’s robbing you, calm down.”

Dean began to lower his gun, but this only wound the man up more.

“Don’t move!” He demanded. “Don’t!”

“I’m just putting the gun down.” Dean tried to reassure him, but the man was having none of it.

He raised his gun, but before he fired he spotted you moving out of the corner of his eye.

Sam, as worrying of a brother as ever, gestured with a tilt of his head for you to move toward him. He knew that you were perfectly capable of protecting yourself, but it made him feel ten times better to know that you were hidden behind his lumbering frame, especially given the recent circumstances that had resulted in so much loss between the three of you. Your movement however, combined with Dean’s haste to put down his gun startled the man and with a fast flick of his arm he had pulled the trigger.

No one had any time to think before your pained scream filled the room. It was quick and short as the bullet lodged itself within your chest and you collapsed to the ground, writhing with an agony so intense that it made white spots dance in your vision like little stars.

“Y/N!” Sam cried out, moving quickly to bridge the short distance to your side where you lay in pain on the cold ground. Sam slid an arm around your back as your other brother dropped to his knees next to you, hovering his hand over your chest where blood had already begun to pool through and seep into your shirt. He was frozen with terror unsure what to do at the sight of your pained expression or the way that your hands clutched feebly at the hem of Sammy’s jacket.

“Call 911.” Sam demanded, turning to face the man who stood there white as a sheet.

“I-I didn’t mean-”

“Now!” Dean yelled.

You whimpered at the yelling. It cuts through your already pounding head adding to the concoction of your agony. You couldn’t see straight, couldn’t hear properly, couldn’t feel anything besides the burning fire in your chest that spread through your lungs like a disease. Your head lolled back against Sam’s arm as you began to taste metallic copper in your mouth, slowly drowning on your own blood that had filled your lungs.

“No. No” Sam said as you writhed in his arms, glancing up bleary eyed at him. Dean pressed down firmly on the wound, and it hurt more than anything but you couldn’t bring yourself to even whine at the contact.

“Come on sweetheart.” Dean pleaded. “Not like this.”

You could see his lips moving but it sounded like he was underwater as your body began to grow numb and your vision slowly faded. You tried to blink away the spots that consumed your vision, but it was no use and your eyes ended up fluttering shut just as your ragged breaths slowed before stopping altogether until you lay morbid limp in your big brother's arms.

‘Heat of the moment-’

Sam sat up abruptly, awoken by the sudden racket that filled the room. After sitting up groggily and allowing his eyes to adjust to the light he glanced at the clock, hardly noting the time before he turned to his brother. He had been here before. He realised suddenly, but this time his older brother was not lacing his boots. Instead he was stood at the foot of the bed, staring at the space beside Sam. He felt the blankets shift around him as you tried to bury yourself into the mattress, bringing the covers over your head to try and block out some of the noise and fall back to sleep. Sam stared at you, startled. He could have sworn that just a moment ago you were-

“Rise and shine, Sammy.” Dean said, with much less enthusiasm as he had before. His little brother furrowed his brows.

“Dean…?”

“I know. Is it just me or are you getting a serious sense of deja-vu?”

He nodded in agreement.

The Winchesters shared a look. Man, something strange was happening and whatever it was, you clearly weren’t feeling the same thing they were.

The diner was exactly the same as it had been the last time the two brothers were here. You were still looking around with the same uncertainty as you were before and you even ordered the same thing as you did before and so did Dean. Tuesday’s special. Pig in a poke.

“It’s tuesday?” He said uncertainly to himself.

You stared at him blankly as if it was the most obvious thing in the world “Yeah.”

Sam eyed you strangely and you raised a brow.

“You okay?”

“Peachy.” He replied, leaning across the table. “Are you?”

Narrowing your eyes at the pair of boys you asked. “Okay. What’s going on with you two?”

“What?”

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

“You don’t…you don’t remember any of this?” Sam asked you

“Remember what?”

“This. Today. Like it’s happened before.” Dean.

“You mean like Deja Vu?” You frowned.

“No like it’s really happened before.” Sam stressed. “If it feels like we’re living yesterday all over again.”

“Deja Vu.”

“No. Forget about that. Its-

The conversation was once again cut off by the waitress who was delivering the food. And once again she sent the hot sauce toppling. But this time, Sam caught it before it could hit the ground.

You gave him a charismatic grin. “Nice reflexes.”

The rest of the day did not pass by quickly after that.

Your brothers were trying to explain the situation to you, while theorising themselves. It was safe to say that at first you were completely lost, but were halfway to believing them when it happened.

The car came from nowhere, speeding around the corner. It collided harshly with your unsuspecting body sending you skidding across the asphalt. By the time your brothers had reached you, a trail of blood trickled down your face from the wounds that were opened as your skin ran across the floor. Dean nearly choked on the sight of your pained and bloodied face as he reached you but you were dead before he had even lifted you into his arms.

And then, there it was again. That wretched song, screaming from the radio.

‘Heat of the moment-’

Sam sat up abruptly, awoken by the sudden racket that filled the room and muttered one single phrase.

“Son of a bitch.”

The rest of the day did not pass by quickly after that. In fact, it never seemed to end.

Sam was getting angry now. No. That's not really the right word to describe it. He was frustrated. Tired. Scared. Dean was angry. And growing impatient. But both of them could not bear to live another tuesday. They couldn’t bear to see you fine one second and then dying the next. They had lived through at least a hundred tuesdays, had scanned every inch of the diner, the town, the mystery spot, they had followed the people from the diner and had even tried to keep you in the motel room but no matter how hard they tried they were forced to watch you die again.

The worst part was that you were clueless. Sam and Dean had to re-explain the ordeal to you everytime they woke up to that stupid song again, leaving you back at square one. They had lived through the day so many times that it had gotten to the point where they could both predict your sentences word for word and while it freaked you out, their patience was wearing thin.

Until finally, something changed. Dean had asked the woman he kept bumping into to see her flyer. They finally had a lead. So, the next time Tuesday morning rolled around, they felt hopeful as they filed off the information to you.

“When’d you get time to do all that research?” you asked through a mouthful of food.

Dean did not have the energy to answer, so he just stood, rolling his eyes. “Let’s go. We’re wasting time here.”

That was when Sam spotted it. The sticky, pink syrup sat in the dispenser next to the half eaten pancake. He frowned, stopping suddenly. When you noticed his absence you turned and asked him what was wrong.

Sam watched the man leave through the slats in the blinds. “That guy has maple syrup for the last 100 tuesdays, now all of a sudden he’s having strawberry?

“It’s a free country, Sammy. A man can’t choose his own syrup now? What have we become?”

“Not in this diner.” Sam shook his head. “Not today.”

“Nothing in this place ever changes. Ever. “ Dean told you. “Except us.”

The two brothers nearly lost their shit when they woke up again, but by the time they had suffered through the morning routine and had reached the diner they had come up with a plan.

There were no conversations during breakfast. The pair left you to ponder over your own thoughts after mentioning the idea of a time loop. Any of your questions went unanswered as they stared down the man, jumping into action when he rose, pushing the stool out with an ear splitting squeal and making his way to the parking lot.

Dean gripped the man firmly, forcing him against the fence by the scruff of his neck and silencing his protests. “We know who you are. Or should I say what?”

You watched very confused from the side.

“Oh my god-” the man begged, wide eyed. “Please don’t kill me!”

“Uh, Boys-”

“It took us a hell of a long time, but we got it.” Sam seethed.

“What?!”

“It’s your M.O that gave you away.” He continued. “Going after pompous jerks, giving them their just deserts. Your kind loves that, don’t they?”

“Yeah. Sure. Okay! Just put the stake down!” He pleaded, side eyeing the weapon that Sam pressed to his neck. Sam refused to move.

“Sammy, maybe you should-”

“No!” He yelled at you. The tone of his voice was so unexpected for Sam that you recoiled. “There’s only one creature powerful enough to do what you’re doing. Making reality out of nothing, sticking people in time loops- In fact, you’d pretty much have to be a god.”

“You’d have to be a trickster.” Dean spat.

“Misters…” The man pleaded shakily with tears in his eyes “My name is Ed Coleman. My wife’s name is Amelia- I’ve got two kids! For crying out loud I sell ad space!”

“Don’t lie to me! I know what you are!” Sam shouted into his face.

“We’ve killed one of your kind before.”

There was a heavy paused before the grey hair and wrinkles on the man before you morphed into the all familiar face of the trickster you and your brothers had run into not too long ago.

He smirked and your brothers’ faces dropped. “Actually, you didn’t.”

“Why are you doing this? Why her!?” Sam pressed, digging the stake into his neck.

“You’re kidding?” The trickster replied “You all tried to kill me last time. Why wouldn’t I do this? Why not make you three suffer.”

“So this is funny to you? Killing her over and over again?” Dean gritted his teeth.

“One- yes, it is fun. And two -this is so not about killing Y/N. This joke is on you two. I mean… come on. How great has it been to watch you to see her being torn apart again and again. Watching your sister die everyday. Forever.”

“You son of a bitch.”

The trickster smiled. “How long will it take you to realise you can’t save your sister, no matter what.”

“Oh yeah? We kill you, this ends now.” Sam growled.

“Woah. Okay, look. I was just playing around. You can’t take a joke, fine. You’re out of it. Tomorrow you’ll wake up and it’ll be wednesday. I swear.”

“You're lying. “

He shrugged. “If I am, you know where to find me.”

“But you better promise me, I’ll be back in time-”

Sam couldn’t contain the gasp that fell from his lips. “It’s wednesday!”

“Yeah…?” You said from across the room where you were rummaging though your bag. “Which usually comes after Tuesday. Turn that crap off, would you?” you asked him.

“No. Leave it on.” Dean interjected. He agreed with Sam. If he heard Asia one more time he was going to kill himself. “Isn’t that the most beautiful song you’ve ever heard?”

“...No. Jesus, how many Tuesdays did you guys have?”

“You don’t wanna know.” Dean sighed. “Wait..what do you remember.”

“I remember you two being pretty whacked out yesterday. And then i remember running into the trickster. S’bout it really.”

“Right. Whatever. Lets get out of here.” Sam said as he pulled on a shirt.

“What? No breakfast?” You asked, slightly upset that you were going to miss out on the diner food you had quite enjoyed yesterday.

“No breakfast.”

Sam and Dean were still inside when they heard it. The unmistakable pop of a gun being fired. You were outside loading the last of your things into Baby and-

Sam's heart sank.

“Y/N!” He cried, dropping what he was doing and racing down the stairs towards you.

The offender fled the moment the gunshot had sounded and your two brothers could see him rounding the corner, but their concern was on you, sprawled out across the floor in a pool of your own blood.

They shook you, crying out your name but you didn’t move. Your heart had stopped beating.

“No. This isn’t supposed to happen today.” Sam squeezed his eyes shut tight, only to nearly cry when he opened them again and you were still lying lifelessly in his brothers clutch. “We’re supposed to wake up.”

And then, he began to cry.

Part 2 may be coming…I’ll add it to my to do list

415 notes · View notes

whorekneecentral · 10 months

Text

Ho Ho Hoe

Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader

Warnings: last minute packing, some friendly teasing, christmas related underwear, cheesy pick up lines sorta, oliver takes the blame, christian is just as cheesy, oral (m!receiving and f!receiving),dom!chris for a second, face sitting, praise kink from chris's end.

Word Count: 2,033

Author's Note: when I was plotting these out, pookie said this one suited chris and I couldn't agree more. he's so dorky, it fits him to a t lmao

merry smutmas series

You find a pair of Christmas boxers in Christian’s suitcase and decide to tease him about it.

The Pulisic family had been celebrating the holidays in Florida every year and this year you'd be joining them.

You are an instant shoo in from the moment you began dating Christian five years ago. Both his sister and his mother saw how quickly you adapted to their family and to their traditions, which is something that they really, truly loved about you. Along the way, you sprinkled in a few of your old little traditions that you did with your family.

Last year, you and Christian had spent the holidays with your family. The two of you rotate every year between the holidays, that way the families don't feel you're picking one over the other.

You were on the floor of your bedroom as you tried to re-pack the suitcase that Christian had 'packed', but really just tossed everything into. You'd be flying from Milan to Florida in 3 days so you were trying to get as much as you could done.

He was on his way home from training, his phone in the little holder as he called you.

"You're the fucking worst at packing," you start the moment you answer the phone. Christian laughs, "hello to you too, sweetheart. Why am I getting yelled at?"

You huff, the phone was on speaker and rested on your thigh as you refolded the clothes. "I have to repack the suitcase, not like you even packed it to begin with."

"I did too! I put everything in!"

"Yeah, just tossed it in. How are you meant to find anything or even fit everything in like this?"

You can already tell he's rolling his eyes. "Anyways," he starts, "did you eat? shall I pick up dinner?"

"Yeah, please." You smiled, folding the boxers you found and put them in a nice pile. You listened to your boyfriend rattle on the diner options when you fished out the bright green boxers with candy canes on it from the suitcase.

It struck you as odd, Christian wasn't one for bright colours; he stuck to the usual colours of navy blue, black and grey.

"Yeah sure, pasta's fine." You tell him, setting the boxers to the side. "See you in a bit."

You continue to repack the suitcase, folding the clothes neatly and tightly to fit as much as you can into the suitcase. It was maybe half an hour later when the front door opens and you hear your boyfriend shouting for you.

"In the bedroom!" You shouted back.

Christian smiles at you when he finds you, "hi beautiful."

"Hello you, how was training?"

"Good, tiring." He says, sitting on the edge of the bed, looking down at you on the floor. "How's the packing going?"

"Good, tiring." You tell him, "I didn't know you were a fan of bright colours though."

Christian raises an eyebrow, looking at you a bit confused. "What are you talking about?"

You hold up the bright green boxers with candy canes on it, "where'd you get these?" You asked, giggling. Christian's face goes bright red, his cheeks and the tips of his ears as red as a McIntosh apple.

"I.. I bought them as a joke. Oliver said he bought a pair last year and his wife loved them."

"So now you're getting sex advice from Oliver?"

"What?! No!"

You laughed, your boyfriend's face still as red as it was before, maybe never more. "Well, they made me laugh."

Chris smiles, "did you see what they say?"

You looked closer at the boxers, between the candy canes says 'suck me like a candy cane.' You think you laughed so hard you snorted, Christian smiles at your reaction.

"You're so unserious." You tossed the boxers at him, making him laugh. Christian kisses the top of your head, dropping the boxers on the bed. "Dinner's on the table, I'm gonna take a shower."

Holding onto Christian's legs, you pull yourself up. "You're not hungry?"

"I'll eat later, go on before it gets cold." Your boyfriend kisses you softly and lets you go.

Dinner was eaten quietly, christian taking his sweet time into the shower before joining you nearly an hour later, shirtless and sweatpants handing off his hips.

Thumb pushing against your teeth, you hummed as you watched him plop himself down on the couch next to you.

"What?" He asks, arm stretched over the backrest of the couch.

"Nothing," you smiled, scooting closer to your boyfriend.

Your head rested on his chest, the two of you watching the cheesy holiday movie you had put on. An arm stretched over his abs, fingers delicately tracing over the indented lines along his skin, moving over to his forearm. His tiger tattoo has always been one of your favourites, your nail pressing into the ink as you moved from one detail to the other.

Christian notices your hand, not thinking much of it; this was a normal thing for you two, your hands were always on him. It wasn't until he felt your hand move from his arm to his hip, fingers creeping closer to the hem of his sweatpants that he stopped you.

"Don't even think about it." His hand catches you, hand wrapped around your wrist.

You huffed. "Why not?"

"I'm trying to watch the movie."

"They all end the same way, a kiss in the snow." You tell him and Christian rolls his eyes, "way to ruin it for me."

You press your lips together, biting back a laugh. Christian lets go to your hand, letting it rest over his lap. That was his mistake. Your hands wander, as they always do, rubbing along his thigh and up to the bulge in his pants.

As much as he tries to ignore you, he can't. Christian's head tips back into the couch, a soft groan slipping past his lips.

"What happened to don't even think about it?" You teased, moving to sit between his legs. Christian rolls his eyes, dropping a pillow onto the floor for you.

He mumbles, telling you to shut up as you reach for the waistband of his sweats, pulling them down. The last thing you were expecting to come face to face with was bright green boxers with candy canes on them.

"You're fucking joking," you laughed, looking up at him. "They were already on the bed, babe. What was I supposed to do?"

"Get a pair from the drawer?" You suggested, laughing at him. "I cannot take you seriously."

Christian takes matters into his own hands, taking them off and tossing it behind him somewhere. "Okay gone now, c'mon."

"You're so demanding," you laughed.

He nods, giving you a tight lipped smile watching as you lean forward with your mouth open, tongue out and Christian bites back a groan; doesn’t matter how many times he sees you like that, you look perfect every time.

No matter how much he tries, he can’t pull his eyes away from you. His head tilting back at the feeling of your mouth on him, your hand wrapped around what can’t fit.

Your tongue swirled around the tip, hand slowing up and down the length of his cock in the meantime.

Chris's hand tangles in your hair, holding it away from your face as you take all of him in your mouth. He sighs, a string of explicits slipping past his lips.

You glance up at him through your lashes and that was enough to make him cum but he held off, because he knew you’d tease him if he did even if you did tell him it was okay.

“Made just for me, weren't you?” He mumbles, his hand rests on your jaw. His hand turns over and you feel his knuckles brush along your cheek. “Like being on your knees for me, hm? Good girl.”

The praise hits you straight in the core, only making you go faster.

Your cheeks hollow as you bob your head up and down. Christian's hips buck, your nose brushing against him.

He tugs on your hair a little, taking control of your movements before pushing you down all the way, only stopping until he hears you gag slightly. His head falls back against the cushions, your name along with a few other words tumble out as you glance up at your boyfriend once more.

You can feel his cum on your tongue before you pull off of him with a pop.

Still on your knees, your eyes are on the man as he takes a few breaths. His hand caresses your jaw for a few moments before he pulls you up and onto his lap.

"I love you, you know that?" He whispers, nose pressed into your temple. You hum, "you've gotta get rid of those."

"What?" He asks, looking at you.

You point to the green boxers that were on the floor. Christian laughs, "yeah okay, babe. Whatever you say."

Your boyfriend falls flat against the couch, laying down and you look at him a bit confused, "was it that good? Got you exhausted now?"

Christian rolls his eyes playfully, pulling you to lay flat against him. He looks at you, there's a glint in his eyes, something you only saw when he was up to something.

"What?"

"Sit on my face."

Your eyes widen, sitting up on his lap. "What?"

His brows furrow, propping himself up on his elbows to look at you as he's unsure what the confusion was about. "Did you not hear me?" He asks, "I said sit on my face."

"What? Why ?"

"I'm returning the favour, now come on."

Christian lays back and you’re still on his lap. “Come on then,” he smacks the back of your thigh lightly. “Come sit.”

You find yourself wiggling out of your shorts as you move back to sit on his face. Thighs on either side of his head, you weren't fully on his face but his hands grip the back of your thighs, pulling you further down.

“I told you sit so fucking sit.” He mumbles from under you.

His large hands rested on the back of your thigh, pulling you down flat against his face, his tongue pressed against your slit.

Your body rocks, leaning forwards and your fingers tangle in his short, curly hair.

Christian's tongue curled upwards, brushing against your clit and you tug on his hair, something incoherent meets his ears - partly because he was focused on what he was doing but also because your thighs were squishing his face.

"Chris," you mumbled, your chest heaving while you tug on his hair to get him to do that again. "Do that- yeah fuck."

His tongue doing figure eights over your clit.

The grip on your thighs would leave marks as would the stubble coming on along his jaw that was scratching at the inside of your thighs. He rocked you a bit, his nose brushing against your clit, his tongue moving down to lap over your cunt.

He glances up, his eyes fixed on your hand on your tit, head tossed back and mouth open. His name slips past your lips like a prayer.

“You're so beautiful,” he mumbles against you, nose brushing at your clit as you grind down on his face again.

Your legs shake for a moment, your grinding halts as you cum on his tongue. Christian's hands hold you in place, his tongue still lapping over your clit and his lips replace them a moment later.

He lets you shift off his face in your own time, laying down on his chest. Your chin rests on his chest as you look up at him, your fingers dragging across his lips. He smiles, letting you slip your finger into his mouth, biting it softly before you pull it away.

His hand resting on your lower back as you reach up to kiss him.

You can taste yourself on his lips and your hand on his jaw, rubbing along the stubble in his jaw. "See if I had bought these boxers, you wouldn't have gotten all that."

"Untrue, you can't keep your hands off of me." You reminded him, the man's cheeks now red and he laughs. "Yeah, you're right." He whispers, kissing you.

---

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#merry smutmas xoxo #christian pulisic #christian pulisic smut #christian pulisic x reader #football x reader #football x you #football x y/n #football smut

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quizzicalwriter · 10 months

Note

can u plsss do smut dallas x reader where he ties a vibrator to you? thank uuuu

Torment

Pairing: Dallas Winston x Fem!Reader

Summary: Dallas had never been one for toys, but your cute pleading may have swayed him - maybe.

Warnings: SMUT. MDNI. Porn with very little plot. Kissing, touching, fingering, rough sex, titty attention, toys. A whole lotta stuff.

A/N: Thank you for the request!

Word Count: 3.7k

Curiosity had always been your weak point, pure stupid curiosity. It’d wound you and Dallas up in your fair share of odd and semi-expensive situations; one he’d never let you live down being the impromptu visit to a restaurant in the middle of town, the very place where you’d spit your food into your napkin and pouted at the shitty quality until Dallas relented and drove you to a nearby hole-in-the-wall diner that served way better food for half the price.

Sometimes, to your benefit, your curiosity led you to funny or pleasurable paths - which was the main contender for why Dallas could never turn you down, that and your pout worked on him better than an offer of a cigarette. That said pout was exactly how you wound up in the passenger side of Buck’s T-Bird, humming absentmindedly to whatever song buzzed across the static-ridden radio during your thirty-minute drive into the center of town.

“I suppose I’m buying this thing?” Dallas asked around his cigarette, eyes half-squinted from the blaring overhead sun. You smiled over at him, bright smile and all as you nodded. He shook his head through a laugh, removing his cigarette from between his lips to rid the end of its built-up ash. “It better be worth the money.”

You knew it would be, how could it not? You and Dallas were fairly adventurous in bed, so when you prompted the idea of including a ‘toy’ into your time beneath the sheets he was naturally curious himself - until he heard the price. You’d ended up begging, peppering his still-tired face with small kisses until he relented and pushed your face away with a grunted-out laugh.

That’s how you got him to drive you nearly forty minutes into the town over, the only town that had a sex toy store. It was still new, something that wasn’t relatively talked about, but your friends had been raving about the thing and you couldn’t help but want one of your own. You’d promised Dallas that you two could try it out as soon as you’d gotten back to his apartment, something that noticeably excited him, his excitement made ever so apparent by the subtle bulge against the denim of his jeans.

If there was one thing you were eternally grateful for when it came to Dallas, it was his nonchalant nature. You’d seen the man trip and bust his ass right outside of a grocery store, only to get up and pick up his cigarette and continue walking off as if nothing had happened - that and he’d done his fair share of voicing his foul-mouthed opinions loud enough for the damn neighbor to hear. In all honesty, you didn’t think he could care what others thought of him. You admired him for it.

It certainly came in handy when he pulled into the semi-vacant parking lot, right outside the store that overtly advertised what it sold indoors. Sex toys; vibrators, dildos, lube - everything you could need and more, and by God did everyone and their grandmother watch as you two exited the car. Dallas smiled over his shoulder, flicking his now-dead cigarette to the asphalt below before snubbing it out with his heel. His arm hooked around your waist, escorting you inside and away from prying eyes.

“Hello!” Sounded an employee from behind the counter, a very kind-looking older woman, someone you wouldn’t have expected to work in such a store. “Do you two need any help?”

Dallas waved her off with a small smile, leading you through the aisles as his eyes drifted over the various items. You could feel yourself flush, despite there being nobody else in the store besides you three, you couldn’t help but feel bashful over it - especially when Dallas loudly laughed as you both passed an aisle that had nothing but pornographic movies. Very, very lewdly labeled pornographic movies.

“Should we get one?” He joked, smiling over at you as he picked up a box, waving it like he’d just scored something worth hundreds of dollars. You scoffed out a laugh, pushing his hand down with a giggled, “Put that away, Dal.”

It didn’t take long to find the aisle that seemed to be dedicated to vibrators, they ranged from all sizes, from pinkie length to nearly a foot. You knew exactly which one you’d come for, the infamous body wand. It was a hefty thing, the box as long as your forearm. Dallas looked over to you, raising his eyebrows as you held the box to your chest.

“You want that one?” He asked, hand reaching behind himself to grab his wallet. You smiled, nodding as you rocked forward onto your toes. He sighed out a laugh, free hand moving to the small of your back as he guided you toward the front of the store.

You’d hardly placed the box down on the front counter before the woman gasped, a bright smile on her face as she rang up your purchase with a hushed, “I’ve sold so many of those! Nearly twenty this week alone!”

The words made you laugh, the two of you exchanging pleasantries until you and Dallas left the store, merchandise hidden in a discreet brown paper bag. As you situated yourself in the passenger side seat, you peeked into the bag, reading over the claims that’d been etched into the side of the box. The reviews alone had you giddy to try it out, thighs clenching together in excitement as Dallas started the car, peeling out of the parking lot less than a second later.

“How’s that thing work anyhow?” Dallas asked, eyebrows furrowed together as he looked between you and the road. You shrugged, freeing the box from the paper bag before twisting the package around, face flushing slightly at the look of the thing.

“Says you plug it in,” you mumbled, eyes squinting as you read the finer print near the edge of the box. “Plug in and enjoy, that’s all it says.”

Dallas choked back a snort at the instructions, eyebrows lifting in both amusement and intrigue as he pulled down his street. It was only four in the afternoon, so Buck’s bar would surely have quite a few people in attendance. It’d never stopped you two before and Buck sure as hell never complained, not that he had any right to, you and Dallas had heard your fair share of Buck’s lady friends he kept well into three in the morning.

The air felt charged around you as Dallas pulled into the half-filled parking lot, his eyes flickering over to you with every chance he could grab. You couldn’t ignore the budding arousal and excitement settling heavy in your stomach, each step toward the bar leaving your legs feeling weak beneath you. Your heart thudded in your chest, hard enough to be felt in your throat as Dallas’s hand pressed against the small of your back, gently guiding you through the bar and toward the back steps.

Neither of you stopped to greet anyone, but luckily for you both everyone was either inebriated or caught up in a game of pool or poker. By the time you reached Dallas’s room, your underwear were slick to your cunt, soaked in your arousal. You kicked your shoes off, tossing the paper bag onto his bed as Dallas closed the door behind you.

“Nervous?” He asked, noticing your jittery behavior as he moved behind you. You huffed, trying to hide your feelings but failing miserably. Dallas only hummed, brushing your hair back from your neck, leaning down a fraction to press delicate kisses along the curve of your throat.

You brought your hand up and behind you, threading your fingers through his thick hair as he kissed and nipped at your neck, his hands working on unbuttoning your jeans. You let your head fall back against his shoulder, giving him full access to your throat as he pushed your jeans down your thighs. You did the rest, kicking the denim to the floor along with your soaked underwear.

“Get on the bed,” he ordered, pulling away only to pull your shirt up and over your head, leaving you completely nude while he remained dressed.

You obeyed, hurrying over to his bed as fast as your feet would carry you. The bag sat toward the end of the bed, soon lifted and opened by Dallas who tossed the bag over his shoulder, attention focused solely on the semi-heavy box in his hands. You crossed your legs, shifting your hips in anticipation as he took out the body wand.

You’d been right in the car, there were no other needed instructions besides plugging it in. Dallas gave you a brief smile, moving beside the bed to plug the body wand into the wall outlet. The cord connecting the wand to the outlet was relatively long, long enough for you to use it comfortably on the bed - or for Dallas to use it on you.

He situated himself behind you, helping you to lean back against his chest. His warmth radiated through his clothing, calming you immensely as you settled back against him. The coolness of the body wand startled you as Dallas rested it against your thigh. He didn’t seem intent on using it on you just then.

His hands brushed over your body, fingertips trailing over your stomach, down your hips, and onto your thighs. Each touch was followed by a shiver on your part, your arousal thick enough to leave you shaking, desperate for some form of attention to your eager cunt.

Sensing your desperation, his right hand dipped between your thighs, touch featherlight against your soaked folds. Your hips bucked, a mumbled plea for more leaving you as he grazed his index finger over your clit.

Your plea was not met with mercy, instead, Dallas pulled his hand back, his touch drifting upward to your breasts. His lips met the nape of your neck, kisses slow and methodical as he kneaded your breasts, brushing his thumbs over your hardened nipples.

“You can wait,” he whispered.

You weren’t sure you could, your cunt clenched around nothing and dripped cum onto the bedspread beneath you. A heavy pang of need throbbed between your thighs, clit aching with each leisurely touch of his hands, focusing everywhere except where you needed him most.

Just when you thought you’d sob from the torment, his right hand moved back between your thighs, finding your cunt drenched in your juices. You could feel him smile against the nape of your neck, a breathy laugh leaving him as he circled your clit.

The soft pads of his fingers against your clit moved in slow, deliberate circles. His lips were hot, leaving lingering kisses along your throat as your head lulled back against his shoulder, giving yourself over to the ecstasy he gave freely. His free hand continued gently kneading the soft flesh of your breast in tandem with his fingers. His thumb and forefinger gently tweaked your nipple, the other hand busying itself swirling around your clit. Your hips bucked up into his touch, desperate for some form of release as his fingers glistened with your arousal. Instead of relief, he gave you cruelty, removing his fingers from your aching cunt with a click of his tongue against his teeth.

“So desperate,” He cooed, tone ever so condescending. The cruel words went straight to your cunt, leaving you clenching around nothing as he watched on in lust-riddled amazement. Your back arched from his chest, unable to do anything further with the position he’d put you in. Laughter rumbled in his chest, the noise making you pout as your eyes batted open to look at him. He feigned a pout, bringing his hand up to cup your chin with a soft, “Poor thing.”

Only when you felt tears lining your vision did he relent, resuming the same featherlight touches against your throbbing clit. It felt perfect, almost enough to bring you to the brink of an orgasm – but nowhere near enough to push you over the edge. A desperate whine fell from your lips, eyes squeezing shut as you begged yourself not to cry over being fingered – it felt stupid, but in your orgasm-deprived mind you were certain you’d go insane if he didn’t let you cum.

With a kiss against your shoulder, he curled his middle and ring finger into you, fingers meeting no resistance as he pushed them up against a spot within you that had your knees bending, thighs clenching together in a silent plea for him to never remove his fingers from your cunt. You could feel him smile against your skin, his thumb brushing against your clit as he slowly pumped his fingers into you, the lewd sound of your cum coating his fingers echoing throughout the room. He could feel you holding back, the way your eyebrows would scrunch together, how your breath caught in your throat, all for a soft, nearly inaudible whine to fall past your parted lips.

“Let them hear you,” he urged, tone nearly pleading. “Let them hear how good I make you feel.”

Dallas wasn’t one to beg, yet the way he spoke conveyed the desperation he poorly concealed underneath his reserved facade. You could only nod as his tempo increased, fingers slicking in and out of your cunt at a pace that left you delirious. Your head rolled back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as moans fell from you, pleas for him to go faster, harder – neither you were sure you wanted, but you needed him and everything he could give you.

He obliged.

“That’s it,” he whispered against the shell of your ear, placing a chaste kiss on your temple as he pumped his fingers into you. “Can feel you clenching around my fingers, doll.”

His crude words pulled another moan from you, one that caught in your throat as your hips rocked with the thrust of his fingers. His other arm hooked around your waist, keeping you pulled back against him as his hand worked between your legs, expertly bringing you to the cusp of your orgasm. Your thighs began to shake, calves tensing as he pushed his fingers deeper into you, the heel of his palm bumping rhythmically into your clit. Your arm moved up to encircle the back of his neck as you buried your face into his throat, moans and whimpers of his name tumbling past your lips like a broken prayer. Before you could register the feeling, you were coming undone around his fingers, cunt pulsing around the thick digits as your voice broke off into a silent scream. You could feel your cum coating his fingers, gushing out of you and onto the bedsheets below. He whispered words of praise, still fucking his fingers into you throughout the throes of your orgasm, not bothering to slow down an inch until your thighs were twitching against the soaked bedsheets.

Your cunt twitched with oversensitivity as he removed his fingers, bringing the wet digits up to your lips. You took them without objection, breath labored as you sucked them clean. He groaned at the feeling, your tongue laving the underside of his fingers as you stared up at him, expression the picture of fucked out.

He slowly lowered his hand from your face, your lips glistening with saliva and cum. He couldn’t help but lean in, capturing you in a wet kiss as his hips rocked against your ass. The subtle friction pulled a grunt from him, his brows furrowing as his hold around your middle tightened. He could taste you on his tongue as he pulled away.

“Lean forward,” he instructed, words barely audible over his heaving breaths. You obeyed, looking over your shoulder toward him as you bent over a nearby pillow, your hips comfortably resting against the fabric. He moved from behind you, sorting through the bedsheets, cursing under his breath until he found what he’d been looking for. You watched; curiosity peaked as he moved to sit down beside you. He smiled at you, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead with a hushed, “Can’t let my money go to waste.”

His hand guided your hip up, nestling the head of the vibrator against your cunt, just above your clit. With a kiss on your shoulder, he helped you settle back down against the pillow, pushing the vibrator flush with your skin. The metallic clang of his belt buckle hitting the floor and the subtle sound of his zipper being undone followed. You arched your back, face pushed to the soft bedding beneath you. He hummed at the sight, right hand grasping your hip tight as the other trailed the back of his fingers along your folds, the touch causing your hips to quiver.

His arm looped around your middle, hand fumbling with the base of the wand until it buzzed to life, the sudden vibration pulling a yelp from you as your hips jerked away from the sensation. You’d thought you were no longer sensitive from your previous orgasm, but the vibrator pulled that confidence right out from under you. Dallas only stifled a laugh, his hand moving to the small of your back where he pressed down, forcing you flush with the vibrator. A broken moan fell from your lips as your hands grasped at the tangled bedsheets, knuckles white as the large silicone head of the vibrator shuddered against your clit.

“You’re alright,” Dallas taunted, right hand still steady on your hip as he pumped himself with his left, thumb swiping over his tip. You could hardly focus on the lascivious moans coming from Dallas due to the intense vibration of the body wand. He pushed your legs farther apart with his knee, shifting himself behind you until his thighs were flush with the plush of your ass. He swiped his tip along your folds, gathering your slick cum against himself before stroking it down his shaft.

Your cunt twitched, clenching around nothing in anticipation as he slowly pushed himself into you, easing in each inch. The moan that came from you once he’d bottomed out was near pornographic, with pure relief and ecstasy flooding your veins before he’d even had the chance to rock his hips. You pushed back into him, the movement earning you a groan as he grabbed at your hips, stopping you from moving any further.

“Wait,” he ordered, tone strained. You’d half a mind to disregard his words, but the steady pulse of his cock inside of you rendered you obedient, mindlessly whining into the warm bedsheets as you waited for him to move. Only when your breathing settled did he pull out, slowly pushing himself back in after – repeating those movements until your hips were rutting into the vibrator beneath you.

You could feel your cunt stretching around his cock, desperately trying to accommodate his addictive size as he pushed into you, each thrust being paired with a choked-back grunt from Dallas. His fingers dug into your skin as he quickened his pace, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing throughout his bedroom. His hold on your hips grew tighter with each thrust, effectively keeping you cemented to the bed and the vibrator beneath you.

The tip of his cock pushed against your cervix, leaving you clenching around him whenever he’d pull out, your cum leaving a veneer against his shaft, steadily dripping down his body and onto the bedsheets below. The vibration of the body wand thrummed against your clit, your hands tightening their grasp on the bedsheets as you felt your orgasm building in your lower stomach. Each thrust of his hips left you breathless, the position causing him to hit impossibly deep inside of you.

He could feel you clenching around him, the sound of your moans picking up an octave, your hips involuntarily rutting back to meet his thrusts. His hands moved from your hips to the small of your back, pushing you flush with the pillow and vibrator beneath you as he slammed into you. The pace was brutal, small whines forced from your lungs as he stretched you again and again – hitting that same spot within you that sprung pleasure-fueled tears to your eyes. You were left sobbing into the bedding, hands moving behind you to grasp aimlessly at his body as you came undone around his cock.

“Fuck yes,” he grunted, not slowing his pace in the slightest as you gushed around his cock, soaking the bedsheets along with the pillow beneath you. Your eyes squeezed shut as he fucked you through your orgasm, the pleasure soon giving way to mind-numbing oversensitivity. A low laugh reverberated within his chest at your fucked-out state, his hand moved to cup your jaw as he rutted into you with a groaned, “You take me so good, so fucking good.”

All you could manage was a broken-off moan of his name at the words, cunt squeezing around him. He buried his face into your shoulder, choking back moans of his own as he pumped you full of his cum. You let your head fall forward into the bedding, heavy pants muffled by the sheets, hips lifting yourself away from the persistent vibration of the body wand below you. As if reading your mind, his arm hooked around your stomach, shutting off the body wand a second later before pushing it to the floor. He rested back down against you, pressing gentle kisses to your shoulders and along the nape of your neck, only pulling out when his cock had finally stopped twitching inside of your cunt.

“Did so good,” he whispered, hand smoothing up the curve of your back as he rested back on his knees. “So good, doll.”

You hummed, the best response you could manage in your current state. He chuckled, swatting your ass before moving from the bed. You didn’t bother watching where he went, knowing him well enough to know he’d disappeared into the bathroom. Only a moment had passed before you felt the bed dip beside you, followed by the coolness of a wet washcloth against you as he cleaned you up. Once he’d cleaned himself, he hooked an arm around your middle, pulling your back flush to his chest, his free hand moving up to wipe your damp hair from your face.

“You alright?” He asked, words so quiet you’d hardly heard him. You tilted your head back, meeting his gaze with a tired smile and nod. He returned your smile, pressing a kiss to your temple as you resituated yourself against him.

“Definitely worth it.”

A/N: I had to research 70s sex toys for this. Because if Dallas didn’t have the whole gunshot ordeal he would’ve lived to see the 70s and the rise of sexual liberation - and by golly gee were there a LOT of sex toys. Anyways, I hope you guys liked this one! I don’t write rough smut too often so I hope I did this one good. I appreciate all the love and support you guys show my work, more than you know! You can find all my work over on my AO3 under the user, “Unscriptural.” Thank you again!

694 notes · View notes

deanscherrypie420 · 3 months

Text

Her Protector <3

A/N: I said I was inspired.. I couldn't help itttt.. Enjoy this little mess <3

Characters: Castiel, Reader Y/N, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester

Paring: Castiel X Reader

Warnings: Fluff, PDA, teasing, arguing, obliviousness, SPN hunting, mentions of spirits, mentions of murders, injuries, brief description of injuries, (Let me know if I missed something!)

Summary: After joining the Winchester brothers full time on their hunting journey, you are quickly introduced to Castiel. Now, he won't leave you alone. Everyone notices it, and now you have to figure out how to bring it up.

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She'd only been on the road with the Winchesters for a few months now. Living in the bunker was nice, but she never truly got comfortable. She always felt like it was too good, too nice, too... too normal. Well, as normal as a hunter could get.

Currently, they were in a diner eating breakfast. They had been brought to California because of a spirit who killed young women, angry for a reason they didn't know yet. She didn't know why, but she was determined to figure out the motive.

Pulling her away from her mind, Dean snatched the book she was reading out of her hand. "Seriously, we're eating. Put the book down." Dean sassed. Y/N rolled her eyes, "Since when did you give a damn about manors?" She retorted. He chuckled and shook his head.

Sam was about to speak when a man appeared in the seat in front of Y/N. She nearly spit out the mouth full of Sprite she just sipped, covering her mouth with her hand. She swallowed and turned to look at the brothers. Dean just chuckled and wrapped an arm around the man, "Y/N, meet Castiel, Castiel meet Y/N."

Castiel sticks his hand out to shake hers, and she awkwardly accepts. "Nice to meet you." Her voice was raised at the end, almost as if it was a question. Castiel nodded eagerly and pulled his hand away.

After a few minutes of awkward conversation, she noticed how Castiel hasn't stopped looking at her. "Do I have something on my face?" She asked with a playful tone. Castiel raised an eyebrow and shook his head, "No, your face looks pleasant."

Sam and Dean broke out in a fit of laughter and Y/N couldn't help but laugh along. The angel looked around at the group, confused as to what he didn't understand. "What? Was that supposed to be humorous?" He questioned.

The group laughed and teased him for some time. It was nice, relaxing even. Castiel did not feel that way though, he was so confused and trying desperately to understand the humor in it.

Such an interesting first impression.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

She'd known Cas for a few months now. They had gotten close, he often spent time with her in her room, reading or just sitting and watching her while she occupied herself.

Right now, she was reading on her bed. She was laying on her stomach, her ankles crossed in the air behind her. Castiel had appeared in her room without her knowing, sitting quietly at her desk.

He began studying her area, looking at all her different items and possessions. He lifted up one of her notebooks, them all being stacked neatly on the corner of her work surface. Opening it, he scanned the doodles that circled the words. A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.

He set the notebook down on his lap, glancing over at Y/N to make sure she was still engulfed in her book. Satisfied, he reached over to grab a pen from her collection. He studied the ink inside of it, a beautiful storm of baby blue ink mixed with sparkling glittery stars.

He began creating little drawings next to hers, small clouds and a smiley face that mirrored the ones she had drawn previously. He smiled, an odd sense of pride washing over him.

He closed the journal and set it back down. Then he reached over and set the pen carefully back into its container. When he pulled back, the sleeve of his trench-coat caught on a pencil and caused the case to knock over.

Immediately, she jumped back into an awkward crawl looking position, groaning when she realized it was just Castiel. "Cas, what did I tell you about randomly showing up?" She said as she got up, walking over to her desk to clean up the mess. "Please, and I can't stress this enough, knock on my door."

He nodded, a frown playing on his lips. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." He moved to help her, quickly setting the container up right as she gathered the utensils and placed them neatly back in.

She sighed and faced him, "It's okay, just be more careful." She turned to walk away and tripped on Castiel's foot, falling to the ground and grunting.

Castiel quickly got up and pulled her back to her feet. "Are you okay?" He hurried, turning her to face him. She laughed dryly and waved his hands away, "I'm fine, really, I'm fine."

"I just need to be more careful."

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Ever since that incident, even though it was such a small thing, Cas has never left her side. Even more so when they're on hunts, and especially when she gets hurt.

"Fuck! Sammy!" She groaned, her head falling back onto the cold tile of the abandoned hospital. Sam quickly rushed towards her, lifting her head from the floor and into his lap. "Damn it, Y/N." He muttered, stroking her hair in an attempt to soothe her.

She groaned as Dean put pressure on her abdomen, desperately trying to stop the bleeding. "Dean, that hurts!" She spat at him through bared teeth. He scoffed, "Yeah, I bet it does."

Cas appeared, back towards them. He looked around, turning his body and realizing what was happening. "No." Was all he could say before he was down on the ground, nearly shoving Dean away from her.

His hands pressed down on her stomach and she hissed, pain shooting through her body. When the white light appeared beneath his hands her brain got foggy and she couldn't exactly recall what was happening.

After a moment, Castiel had picked her up off the ground and was carrying her to the Impala. He gently stroked her back, his hand tracing the same clouds he drew in her notebook months ago onto her skin.

She recognized instantly that's what he was creating and she let out a breathy laugh, "The clouds.." He smiled and nodded, "Yeah, the clouds. I figured you would like them."

He was correct.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I'm fine! You guys don't need to baby me!" She groaned as Cas walked her into the diner, his hand gently squeezing hers as she whined. "We aren't babying you, we're taking care of you." Sam retorted, rolling his eyes at her complaint.

As they sat down, Cas sat down next to her, still holding her hand. Both the brothers looked at each other and then Dean stared her down. She hated that secret language they spoke with their eyes. She tried relentlessly to decode it, but always failed.

"What?" She questioned, and Dean's mouth flattened into a thin line, raising his hands before slapping them against his thighs, all in one swift motion. "Look, whatever you and lover-boy got going on, it's none of my business." He said with a nod towards the angel.

"Dean, really?" Sam said in an instant response to his brother's comment. Cas's eyebrows were raised before he spoke, "Who's lover-boy?" Y/N rolled her eyes, squeezing his hand in a reassuring way, "Nobody, he's teasing you - us." The older Winchester laughed, his first hitting the table as he glanced at his brother. "Is Cas feelin' a bit jelly?"

"Jelly..? Like.. the-" Cas started, but he was cut off Y/N, "Castiel, do not entertain him and his bullshit." She warned, finally pulling her hand away from his. Cas's face shifted, a small frown dragging down the corners of his mouth. His hand explored up her thigh and connected her hand back with his. She glanced at the vessel before sighing with an eye roll, "Cas-"

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Castiel was laying on the bed next to her, trying to understand the comicality of the film they were watching. Y/N was a laughing mess, and even though he didn't understand, he loved her laugh.

It was so beautiful to listen to. So beautiful to see. The way her cheeks bloomed with red, the way around her eyes crinkled, the way the T.V light lit a sparkle in her eyes.

He noticed that about her, how she just glowed. Her smile, her kindness - oh and his favorite - her touch. When she hugged him or ruffled his hair he adored it. Craved it, even.

He talked to Dean about it, figuring he would be able to explain it. He was so confusing. Sam had to simplify his brother's version and dumbed it down for Cas.

He felt romantically attracted to Y/N.

"Cas?" Her voice cut through his pondering mind. He looked over at her, the soft expression on her face causing a tingly feeling within his stomach. "Yes?" He responded simply.

"Sam talked to me earlier. Said I should tell you how I feel." She stated, returning her focus back to the movie. He cocked a brow, his eyes squinting a bit. "Feelings? What feelings?" He felt that familiar nervousness he usually felt when she got more intimate with him. It wasn't a bad nervous, but a jittery, kind of excited type of nervous.

She looked back up at him, a gentle smile on her face. "Have you ever kissed anyone, Cas?" He thought for a moment, a warm feeling flooding his cheeks. "No, but I've seen people kiss. It's really interesting actually. The way two humans show affec-"

He was cut off by her lips crashing onto his. He froze for a moment, but he quickly grasped onto her hips and pulled her up to his lap, his fingers digging into the plump flesh.

"Fuck, Cas," She murmured and his eyes darted to hers. "Did I hurt you?" He frowned and she giggled, "I don't think you ever could." He smiled and continued savoring the taste of her mouth, his hands moving to her waist.

Suddenly, she was flipped onto her back, a gasp escaping her lips, followed by a giggling fit. He groaned, a primal urge flooding his senses. His lips eagerly moved down to devour her neck, small kisses and bites causing her giggling to increase.

That only fueled him more, peppering kisses down and into the crook of her neck. He then trailed them back up and claimed her mouth once more.

This was a different, more passionate kiss than before. Her hands trailed to the back of his neck, gently tugging on his hair to pull him away from the kiss. "Cas," She giggled, and he just murmured something in response, continuing to worship her mouth.

Once he finally pulled away for air, he nuzzled his face into her chest and she smiled down at him. "Mmm.. You taste exquisite." He praised, his lips placing another kiss to her collarbone. "Exquisite?" She teased, and he nodded wholeheartedly.

She laughed and kissed the top of his head, her hand gently scratching the back of it, her fingers occasionally twirling strands of his hair.

Within a few minutes, she felt herself dozing off. She wished Castiel was able to actually sleep with her, but she knew he'd stay beside her anyway.

"You're tired." The angel stated, resting his chin against her chest. "Yeah, I'm sorry." She didn't know why she apologized, but she felt bad. He would have to lay there on his own while she slept.

It was as if Castiel could read her mind because he quickly switched their positions. Y/N was now resting on top of him and she let out a quiet whine in protest. He hushed her and stroked her hair.

"Sleep, you need rest." He insisted. She tried to push herself off of him, but his arm squeezed her waist, pulling her back down. "Cas, I don't wanna-"

He kissed her forehead and pulled her closer, "Yes, you do. Sleep. When you are relaxed, I am relaxed." And with that, she fell into a blissful, peaceful sleep.

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Y/N woke up earlier than usual. She rolled over, stretching out her legs with a soft groan. She felt the angels arms pull her back into him, resting his head on top of hers.

A smile crept onto her lips when she realized the man next to her was asleep. He had put himself to sleep so he could rest with her.

...

She knew it wasn't normal to be in love with an angel, hell, it was far from it. Nothing in her life was normal, but she knew that how she felt with Cas was good, and it was really, really nice.

And that was all she needed.

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A/N: Okay so hear me out.. I am so exhausted right now, it is 2:52 AM.. You don't wanna know how long I worked on this..

I HAVE HAD THIS OPEN AND WRITING SINCE 10:30 (more or less.)

Please. Send help. I KEPT GETTING DISTRACTED, AND THEN WRITERS BLOCK AND OH IT WAS JUST SO BAD. I had so many ideas I wanted to write with my midnight motivation (I should trademark that) BUT NOW IM READY TO SLUMP.

I hope you enjoyed! GOOD NIGHT.

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ohdeerfully · 5 months

Text

Mutual Dilemma (ii)

Alastor x Reader part i part ii(you are here!) TW: None! Other than a pretty ooc alastor (,:

join my discord!

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Morning couldn’t come slower as you anticipated the trip to Rosie’s Emporium. You managed to get a few licks of sleep throughout the night, though nerves kept waking you. As soon as the time was reasonable, not too early as you worried to bother Rosie if you came right as she opened her shop, you quickly got ready and left the Hotel. You gave brief excuses as you hurried by Charlie and a few of the other guests lingering in the lobby—Alastor was notably gone.

“Welcome t- Oh! Hey you!” Rosie’s thrilled voice filled the Emporium as a light bell dingled when you pushed the door open. She swept you up in a tight hug, trapping your arms uncomfortably against your sides as you breathlessly laughed and said your own greetings.

She held you out from herself, both hands firmly planted on your shoulders. You noticed a strange look in her expression—a light quirk in her brow and a sly curve to her smile that implied she knew something important.

“How lucky to see two of my dearest friends in the same 24 hours,” She sighed theatrically, and you knew she had to be referring to Alastor—just the demon you were here to talk to her about. She was, unsurprisingly, able to pick up on your uncomfortable demeanor and her smile dropped into a comforting grin as she led you away to a table against the wall.

“Rosie,” You groaned after sitting, putting your forehead against the cool wood and covering your head with your arms. “I’m so fucked.”

The Overlord held one of your hands softly and comfortably, encouraging you to continue but remaining otherwise quiet.

“You’re going to call me nuts, and don’t worry I already know, but, I, ah,” You grimaced. Saying it out loud was somehow even harder than accepting it within yourself. “I think I really… really like Alastor. Like I want to kiss him.”

Rosie’s hand tightened briefly against yours and you heard her intake a sharp breath while her other hand flew to cover her mouth. You turned your head so your cheek was flat against the wood as you peeked up at her. You couldn’t tell if she was smiling or not behind her hand.

“An odd place to be, certainly,” She nodded after a minute, though a small smile remained. You released a breath when you were certain she wasn’t about to laugh at you or scold you for being so stupid as to be attracted to Alastor. She stood up, pulling you along so that you stood next to her. Her hand still held yours, lifting it and cusping her other hand around it. “These feelings are normal, I think. I mean, look at all the cannibals in town that constantly swoon over him! He’s positively charming—I couldn’t blame ya! Though I have… the strangest feeling you have nothing to worry about.”

What a weird thing to say, you frowned curiously at her words, but your thoughts were cut short as you saw her expression perk with an idea she refused to share. You didn’t like when she got that sly look in her black eyes.

“I have a few errands to run, but why don’t you meet me for lunch later? At the diner down the street.”

You nodded and the two of you shared another hug before you left. You crossed your fingers the whole way back to the hotel that you wouldn’t run into Alastor.

◈

Right, that’s what ended you up here. It seems crossing your fingers means absolutely nothing in Hell. You stood frozen, hand violently clenched into a fist against your thigh. Across from you, just a few feet past the wire table, stood Alastor, a similarly shocked look in his eyes though he somehow managed to look more relaxed. You pinned it on the decade of manipulation in Hell that trained him to look so natural in weird situations.

“What an unexpected pleasure to see you here,” Within a blink he was back to his usual demeanor, approaching you with a pleasant tone; the radio effect in his voice was heavier than usual, which you knew was usually caused by stress or frustration on his part. You decided not to think too hard about the fact he was upset at seeing you in a desperate attempt to protect your heart.

“I’m… I was gonna get lunch with Rosie,” You explained, trying not to cower underneath his looming figure. Did he do this on purpose? Loom?

Alastor tilted his head at you, quirking a brow. “Curious, I was too.”

You both didn’t say anything for a moment. Your mouth opened to say something, but you honestly weren’t sure what to say so you just closed it again.

A familiar cannibal demon—you thought you recognized her as an aid in Rosie’s Emporium—bustled up to the two of you and threw out her arm, manicured nails nearly pinching holes into the paper. Her hands shook slightly as she held her head low, casting a few glances Alastor’s way. It was endearing, almost, the effect he held on all the equally deranged cannibals in the town. Though, you suppose you weren’t any better than them at this point.

“Thanks, Remi,” Her name came to you in a stroke of luck as you took the note. She nodded and scampered away with a light squeal, and you noticed a small huddle of girls waiting for her return with expectantly bated breaths. You heard them all run off giggling as you read the note.

“It’s from Rosie…” You explained in a slight mumble as your eyes trailed over the paper. Your lips spread into a thin line as you grimaced. You pinched your fingers against the bridge of your nose as you handed Alastor the note. Of course she’d do some shit like this. “She got caught up in something. I guess. She told us to hangout instead.”

Alastor hummed as he read through the note. He folded it neatly and tucked it away in a shirt pocket.

“Well, seeing as I cleared some time in my schedule for this… I’ve nothing better to do.”

You nodded, agreeing with a similar statement. So much for girl-talk therapy.

You both approached the table and he, always the gentleman, pulled out the chair for you to sit before he took his own seat. The silence was unbearably awkward—for you, at least. He probably had no care in the world. There was a light hum rumbling from his throat, and he glanced around, watching the surroundings. Every time his eyes met yours, you would both quickly look another way.

You had noticed a few different waiters rush by your table, side-eyeing Alastor in particular before scrambling to, at least you assumed, find another waiter to cover the table. You sighed and idly played with a hole in the wire-mesh tabletop.

“So, how’s our dear Charlie’s new plan coming along?” Alastor finally decided to carry the weight of striking up a conversation and you perked up a bit. You loved to talk about Charlie and her ideas—you cherished her friendship and kindness with your whole being. Plus, you were also just excited to interrupt that painful silence.

“Oh! Good so far! At least, on paper,” You rubbed your arm sheepishly. You tried not to stumble over your words as you saw how intently he was watching you, red eyes almost glowing in intensity. “They… never really turn out as planned… as I’m sure you’ve noticed…”

He responded with a bitter laugh, and your shoulders suddenly felt less tense as a more natural flow of conversation started. It was still, obviously, a bit strange and there was still a sense of unease considering the nature of the Overlord you spoke to, but you nonetheless appreciated the relative ease of getting along with him.

A waiter came and went during your conversation, and you had to interrupt your laugh at a joke Alastor had made to order yourself a tea. Alastor got himself a coffee.

“Would you look at the time,” Alastor suddenly said after you sipped on your drinks for a while. He didn’t carry a watch with him; instead, he had cast his face up to the sky and observed it was getting rather dark.

“Holy shit!” You looked at an actual watch, realizing the two of you had been chatting for ours. Your chest felt weightless and you held back a wide smile when you saw how long you were able to just sit and talk to Alastor. “Damn, yeah, Charlie’s probably worried by now.”

Alastor stood and, just as before, pulled out the seat for you as you stood. The two of you walked next to each other at a slower than natural pace, as if you both wanted to linger just a bit longer in each other’s presence—though, that was honestly probably just you. He was likely just being polite.

“Maybe it’s good our plans with Rosie didn’t go as… planned…” You said slowly, carefully, peeking at him from the corner of your eye. You were somewhat starting to doubt if he had equally enjoyed your time together, or if he was just playing along since he knew Rosie was keen on you.

“Agreed,” He simply responded. He was quiet for a beat before he continued. “Surprisingly I find your company quite enjoyable.”

You decided not to comment on the ‘surprisingly’ part and just flashed him a light smile before focusing your attention on the sidewalk, kicking at a rock with each step. It was silent again, but this time it was more comfortable. Alastor was humming again, and you felt a prickling of goosebumps as you listened to his voice.

You wished it could always be like this. You and him. Though you were certain that was an impossible reality—it was Alastor, after all. You tried not to think about it in order to enjoy the experience now.

A misplaced kick at the rock made you trip, and you mentally cursed yourself as you stumbled forward. How fucking embarrassing was this going to—your scrambled thoughts were interrupted when Alastor caught you, his surprisingly strong arm snug around your torso as he pulled you steady.

A tight-lipped smile and a quiet “thanks” was all you could awkwardly do in return. It took you a moment to notice his arm was still around you, and once you looked down at it he seemed to realize this too and slid it away. Are you going crazy, or did he seem reluctant to let go? You wanted to smack yourself till your mind cleared, but the ghost feeling of his arm against you was sending a fire through your skin.

“You walk like a fresh-born fawn,” He joked, averting his face away from you as he straightened the cuff of his sleeve. “Watch where you step. I might not be able to catch you next time.”

You didn’t respond and just kept walking, face hot from shame after tripping over such a minor thing. Alastor now walked notably closer to you, his hand almost brushing against yours with every step. At some point the back of his hand did graze against your own, and had you not been expecting it you probably would’ve jumped. Alastor, on the other hand, did seem to stiffen at the contact but he didn’t move.

Finally the hotel was in sight, and before you knew it the Overlord was pushing open the door and offering you to enter first. He led you to your room and you both stood in the hallway, your own breath bated with anticipation as you rapidly tried to find something to say. You didn’t want this to just be a one-and-done deal.

Silence again.

It didn’t help that his eyes had a red glow in the dark of the silent hall—anybody else would find it intimidating, but… man… you felt your cheeks get a bit hot.

Did he just take a step closer? You honestly couldn’t tell, but the buzzing in your ears from his radio afflicted being seemed to grow in intensity and he seemed to be looming over you a bit more. There was a sinister look in his eyes, but you couldn’t tell if it was due to malice or… something else. You really couldn’t tell, but you couldn’t find yourself scared of him.

Maybe you should be.

Something about being against the wall with the looming figure of the Radio Demon, who you honestly couldn’t tell if he just made another step closer, made you feel like prey being toyed with by a cruel hunter. You would be lying to yourself if you said it wasn’t thrilling.

“Maybe I can pencil in a regular lunch with you every week,” He said suddenly, breaking the growing tension. “Despite your average looks–” Okay, rude. “–you are quite the character.”

“Uh, yeah, I’d like that,” You said, averting your face to hide the growing heat on your skin that gave away your current mental state. If Alastor noticed, he made no indication of it as he clapped his hands together once.

“Well, then, goodnight!” He said, all too cheerfully given the atmosphere barely thirty seconds ago. “We can talk about it tomorrow.”

You nodded wordlessly before bidding him goodnight and reaching behind your back to turn the knob. You stumbled back into the empty space as you waved bye, him reciprocating with a small wave back, before shutting the door with a soft click. You pressed your forehead against the wood, quietly catching your breath you didn’t even realize had been held that whole exchange.

The aura of radio static seemed to linger at your door for a little longer than necessary, and you assumed Alastor was still standing there. It was maybe a minute before he finally left. Your legs felt weak and wobbly as you walked to your bed, falling face first into the sheets. You grabbed a fistful of pillow, screamed into it, and stood back up to get ready for bed.

A feeling of giddiness rose in your chest as you looked at your reflection, and you couldn’t help the grin that crept up your lips. You wouldn’t overthink it too much—you didn’t want to lead yourself astray—but… if you didn’t know any better… you could almost say Alastor felt at least a fraction of mutual feelings towards you.

You just hoped you wouldn’t screw it up.

#ohdeerfully #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #fluff #alastor x you #i feel like its impossible to not write alastor ooc when its a romance fic #sorry not sorry #teehee #hazbin hotel alastor

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moonmunson · 6 months

Text

either way / no doubt

a/n: either way and no doubt by Odie Leigh have been on repeat currently and I relate to them so heavily so I word vomited on a Google docs. its a little rushed but oh well LMAO (I'm also always writing with a plus sized reader in mind)

cw: over thinker fem!reader, autistic coded reader, not knowing how to enter into a first serious relationship, kind lover boy!Eddie, no use of y/n

wc: 2.1k

It is the beginning of Spring when she meets Eddie Munson. Genuinely meets him, not just sees him around town and wonders what it’s like to be in his orbit. Working at the local diner, she sees him and his group of friends often. She’s served them a couple times, and they’re always respectful - albeit rambunctious. They tip well, stack their dishes for the busboys to clear, wave to her on the way out.

It’s the day Eddie comes in by himself that marks it as different, new. He sits in her section of the diner, glances her way and then averts his gaze when she meets it. That’s odd, but she doesn’t think much else of it. Not until the end of his meal - consisting of a solitary cup of coffee and a slice of apple pie - does he stop her when she checks to see if he needs anything.

He asks if she’d want to hang out sometime, and she laughs - a forced exhale of nerves. He asks why she’s laughing, and she doesn’t know what to say. After a few moments of awkward silence, she relents and shrugs. What would we do? He says anything she wants. What if she doesn’t know what she wants to do? He says they’ll figure it out together.

They end up sitting in the back of Eddie’s van, the open doors facing Lover’s Lake. She’s fidgety, and stumbling over her words. He keeps staring at her when she talks and she’s not used to anybody doing this much work to stay focused on her and what she has to say, especially because she’s not saying much of substance. He asks her so many questions, and mundane ones at that. How are classes at the community college? What’s your major? She answers as best she can.

The feeling of someone looking at her makes her skin crawl. She doesn’t know what to do with her hands, she’s uncomfortably aware of the position of her nose on her face, which seems incredibly silly, and then she’s thinking about just how silly that is when he asks her if she’s alright.

“Sorry?”

“I was just asking if you felt alright. It looked like you went away for a second there,” Eddie ducks his head down to catch her line of sight. Eye contact has always been difficult for her, but this is different - warm - like sunshine. “I know I’m not the most exciting person to talk to, but I hope you’re having a good time. I enjoy talking to you.”

“I’m here, sorry. I like talking to you too.”

“You don’t have to apologize, it’s okay.”

“Sorry. Oh-” She sucks in a breath and places her hand over her mouth, eyes wide at the realization of her mistake. He giggles, a sweet boyish sound, and it warms his face. She thinks she could love that face, if he let her. If she knew how. She laughs too, despite herself. “It’s a bad habit. I really have to stop apologizing so much.”

He’s still smiling when he says it’s okay, he understands.

Later, when he drops her off at her apartment, the sun has gone down. The ride he’d offered her is relatively quiet. It’s a strange thing, to see the way someone adjusts themself around you. The usual loud heavy metal is absent here. The fast driving and sharp turns are traded in for complying with the speed limit, graceful steering and soft brakes. When he looks at her, she directs her gaze out the window - when she looks at him, he is focused on the road.

He stops her as she takes off her seatbelt and goes to open the door, jumping out of his own and running around the front of the van to open it for her. She leads him to her front door, and he asks if he can see her again, if he can have her number. She nods, and rummages around her purse for a few frantic seconds before finding her waitress notepad and pen. When she rips the page out that she’s written her number on and hands it to him, he clutches it to his chest and smiles.

“I’ll call you when I get home, if that’s okay. Just to let you know I made it back safely.”

“And if I want to keep talking to you?”

“We can talk for as long as you want to.”

“Okay.”

Eddie walks backwards for a few seconds, keeping his eyes locked on hers, paper still against his heart. By the time he’s made it back to his van, he lifts a hand up for a short wave goodbye, and turns to face the vehicle.

Now or never.

“Eddie?” In true Munson fashion, he whips around completely at the sound of her calling out to him.

“Yeah, sweets?”

“I just wanted to tell you I had a really nice time with you today. I can’t wait for you to call me later.” She tucks her hair behind her ears, needing to do something with her hands to offset the nausea brought about by her impulsive vulnerability. He smiles wider, if that’s even possible.

“I’m glad you had a good time. I’ve been wanting to ask you out forever, Gareth and the guys kept busting my balls about it. I promise I’ll call when I get home.”

She nods, her eyes tracking his steps as he makes it to his car. She watches him drive off. It feels so strange, this immediate wanting him to come back, wanting him to come inside and crawl into her brain. To know her fully. It scares her in a way she’s incredibly unused to. When she can’t hear the music blasting from his speakers anymore, she makes her way inside and slumps against the door for a few seconds.

He does call when he gets home, and they talk until the sun rises.

They spend the next few days talking on the phone. It’s easier like this, she thinks. She doesn’t have to worry about the way she looks when she’s thinking of something to say. She doesn’t have to avoid his white hot gaze, the way she can feel it trail over her face when she’s speaking. If he notices how much more she opens up to him when they’re not actively sitting next to each other, he doesn’t mention it.

When they’re not on the phone, he clings to her brainspace like moss on a tree. She can’t stop thinking about him, to the point she’s worried she’s obsessing over something that isn’t there. He’d said he had a good time, he said he enjoyed talking to her, so why does it keep bothering her so much? He feels safe. He does feel safe, but she’s not used to conversations with no expectations. No guise, no hidden agenda. If he notices the way she starts to pull away due to her overthinking, her sentences shorter and stunted, he doesn’t mention it. He carries on as usual, calling her to talk about what he’d done that day. It makes her smile.

When he asks, unprompted, if he can see her again, she says yes.

They go to the lake again. It is an early March morning, the last tendrils of Winter still grasping desperately for some kind of recognition against early Spring. He brings a blanket and hot cocoa for both of them, and she feels it in her chest - warm and sweet and chocolatey, like his eyes. It’s easier this time, talking to him. She spends less time worried about her posture and cadence - more time really listening to him speak and trying her hardest to maintain eye contact.

The early morning breeze makes ripples on the otherwise still surface of the water. It’s so beautiful. He’s so beautiful. He’s so expressive when he speaks. She used to think he was careless, jumping on tables and riling up the people he knew didn’t like him. Seeing him up close like this, she realizes it’s kind of the opposite. It’s careful, planned, the way he uses his hands, his eyes. Even when he’s talking about a book he's read a million times, she feels like she's there among the scenery and characters he describes. It’s entirely captivating. She wants to be more like him. Carefully carefree.

She’s never done this kind of thing - the relationship kind of thing. If that’s what this is, she has no idea how to traverse this new terrain. She can’t find her footing, she doesn’t know what the formula is, what the proper way to go about it looks like. She doesn’t think about sounding weird when she asks:

“What are we doing?”

Eddie pauses mid sip, brings the cup back down to his lap.

“Currently? Or like, with our lives?” He chuffs out a little laugh. Not in a teasing way, though it's hard for her to differentiate. “Because currently, from my perspective at least, I’m sitting in my van with a pretty girl talking about our favorite books. What I’m doing with my life is something a lot of people, including me, would really like to know.”

Levity, she recognizes.

“Sorry if it's a weird question, I just…” She trails off, breaking eye contact, looking at her hands in her lap. He scoots forward a bit, the side of his thigh touching hers as their legs dangle off the back of the van. He doesn’t push her to say anything, doesn’t acknowledge the unneeded apology, doesn’t fill the silence with his own voice. He just waits, patiently. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen him sit this still.

“I really like you, and I really like talking to you. I’ve never done anything like this,” She uses her pointer finger to gesture between the two of them, drawing a connecting line between their bodies, “I don’t know how to, if that makes sense. I’m not really a lot of people’s type, I guess.”

“Hey, look at me,” Eddie sets the cup down next to him and very gently takes her hand, locks their fingers together. When she raises her eyes to meet his, he continues. “There’s no rush, I mean it. You set the pace here, okay? I like you, like a lot. If all you wanna do is sit here and talk, I’m totally fine with that. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, sweets.”

“What if you find out how weird I am and decide you don’t want to talk to me anymore?”

At this, Eddie relinquishes his grip on her hand, hops down from the lip of the back of the van, and stands in front of her.

“Y’know who you’re talking to?” two thumbs pointed towards himself - eyebrows raised, mouth quirked in a goofy grin, “King of the freaks, misfits, and ne'er do wells. I don’t think you could scare me off, but you’re certainly welcome to try.”

“So just… be myself?” She scrunches her face up - the idea of being genuine is almost totally foreign to her.

“Be yourself!”

“Ew. Yeah, alright, fine.” She sighs in resignation and shrugs a shoulder. Doesn’t think about how convincing he is, or how willing she was to drop some of her defenses. Carefully carefree. She can do it.

They share a laugh, finishing their luke-warm cocoa together and talking until the sun is high in the sky and the temperature rises too high for them to ignore any longer. This time, the drive home is less quiet. She meets his gaze when he looks over at her from the driver’s seat, she hums along to the sound of the radio, it's nice. Comfortable.

Just like last time, Eddie hastens to run around the van and open her door for her. He extends a hand to help her down and out, and they stay connected on the short journey to her apartment’s front door. Eddie watches while she digs the keys out of her purse, unlocking the door and leading the both of them inside for a drink. He kicks his shoes off by the welcome mat, and they look like they belong there.

It is the beginning of Spring when Eddie Munson permanently plants himself in her life, a steadfast source of comfort and nourishment. It is hard for her, and it takes longer than most for her to truly open up. To show him all the nooks and crannies of her mind. He takes it all in stride - her overthinking, her quirks and neuroses. He shows her that it is entirely impossible to trust someone enough to take part in the watering and flowering - that it's not a weight she has to hold alone. She can bloom.

if you enjoyed this story please like and reblog!!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson my beloved #eddie munson imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #it is possible to be mentally ill and be in a healthy relationship #it's rotten work #not to me #not if its you #sio writes

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