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#came from something that happened in my class once
alphajocklover · 20 hours
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Hi! How about if a nerd, or maybe a science teacher gets a bush by the jock of the school and he realizes a bit too late that his body is changing. It hits him that the sport teams didn’t have a coach for a while now, but that couldn’t be what’s happening, right?
Ned Stanson had hated highschool. The entire 4 years were absolute hell. He, having been an incredibly nerdy chemistry prodigy who everyone could easily tell wasn’t entirely straight, was constantly harassed by the popular jocks. They’d mock him, push him down, stuff him in his locker and perform incredibly cruel pranks. The jocks at his school weren’t smart or clever, but they were thorough. It was constant. He never felt safe, not for a moment, even outside of school. He didn't relax a moment until he was off to Harvard, and even then he was way too busy getting his double major in chemistry and education to really do anything except study. So why, after the years of torment that Ned had been through, that he still hadn’t gotten over, did he ever think it was a good idea to go back to his old highschool?
Ned put it down to desperation. A college degree, even with a double major, didn’t go as far as it used to, and he had no prior experience. He needed a job, badly, and his old highschool, Luther High, was eager to have him back. He expected it was because it made for good publicity more than anything else. The famous chemistry prodigy who went to Harvard, coming back to his old high school to teach a new generation. That, plus the general prestige of having a Harvard graduate working at your school, would do wonders for the small town highschool. So, drawn in by the surprisingly large salary, Ned forced himself to go back to his old school. He tried to tell himself it wouldn’t be the same, that as a teacher he would have all the power. He wouldn’t have to be afraid of jocks and athletes anymore. He could even help a few nerds the way he had once wished his teachers would help him. Things would be different.
He was right. Things were different. Maybe too different. Ned had found that teaching high school level chemistry was actually quite nice. He had always enjoyed teaching, it was just that he had pictured himself teaching college students, going over more advanced material. But something about going over the basics, introducing young minds to the world of chemistry, was thrilling. He felt amazing. Powerful even. Maybe a little too powerful. He wasn’t doing it consciously, and he felt like crap whenever he noticed it but… he found himself being especially hard on the jocks. They hadn’t done anything to him. He hadn’t even seen any of them bullying nerds like the jocks did back in his day. But some sadistic little part of Ned couldn’t help but pick on them. He’d give them harder questions, offer less help, and he even found himself being downright cruel and mocking them.
He knew he should stop but it felt so… cathartic. It was like he was getting his revenge, after all these years. Maybe that was why the kid he targeted most was Dylan Cooper, the little brother of his worst tormenter growing up. Ned knew it was wrong. A teacher bullying a student was way worse than a student bullying another student, no matter how bad the harassment he went though had been. But every time an opportunity to humiliate the legacy jock came up, he found he just couldn’t resist. After a few weeks of this he knew it couldn’t continue. He asked Dylan to stay after class so that he could explain himself and ask forgiveness. He knew he might be reported to the school board and fired, but… he couldn’t deal with the guilt anymore. As he sat at his desk, Dylan across from him, he tried to find the right words. Dylan spoke before he could, his voice cocky and confident.
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“I know what you’re gonna say teach. You’ve been treating me like crap because my big bro used to beat your nerdy ass when you went to school together.” Dylan said with a slight smirk, shocking Ned. How did Dylan know about that? Did his father tell him? Dylan continued, a strange look on his face
“… look, what my bro did to you was shitty. I used to be a bit of a bastard myself till my old football coach set me straight. But you know taking out old grudges on students is fucked up. I can tell you do. You get this guilty look on your face whenever you talk to me.” Dylan said, shocking Ned further. Ned remembered hearing about the football coach. He had been let go shortly before Ned was hired. Everyone said good things about him, and Ned had kind of wished he had met the guy. Finally he spoke, a slight tremor in his voice.
“Dylan, I am… I am so sorry. You’re completely right. I’ve acted completely unprofessionally. If you want… I’ll resign.” Ned offered. Dylan smiled slightly
“No need for that teach. I’ll forgive and forget everything. But you have to do something for me.” Dylan said. He took out what looked to a plastic whistle on a chain “The football team needs a new coach. I’m not asking you to say yes. Just… try on the whistle. See how it feels. Then tell me.” Dylan said. Ned hesitated. Something about this felt wrong… but Dylan was being so forgiving. How could he say no? He took the whistle and slowly slid the chain around his neck. Suddenly the world spun around Ned, his vision blurring. He felt like his entire body was stretching as his mind burned. He ended up blacking out, only for Dylan’s familiar voice to cut through the darkness.
“Coach… Coach… Coach!” Ned sat up with a start, looking around. What… What had happened? He looked over at Dylan, confused.
“What happened kid?” Ned asked, his throat feeling strangely rough. He stood up and stretched his arms, his incredibly large muscles flexing slightly as he tried to recall what had just happened. Dylan replied before he could truly get his bearings.
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“We were talking about the team and suddenly got weirdly dizzy. Are you not drinking enough water? You’re the one always telling us to drink a bunch after every workout.” Dylan said with a slight teasing smirk. Ned grinned back at Dylan confidently. Dylan was a cheeky kid, he had been even back when Ned first met him. Ned was an incredibly athletic and popular teen, the classic jock, and had been best friends with Dylan’s older brother all through highschool. Because of that Dylan was almost like a little brother to him too, and getting the chance to teach Dylan was one of the reasons Ned was so eager to accept his new job as gym teacher and football coach. He playfully slapped Dylan on the arm and smirked confidently
“I’m alright kiddo. Just lost my concentration for a moment. You should worry about yourself lil bro. I’m gonna push you hard at practice today.” Ned said with a smirk. As the studly coach and quarterback strut out towards the field, Ned grinned widely. He had loved highschool, and now he got to work here and inspire a whole new generation of manly jock bros. It fucking ruled.
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midnight-pluto · 6 months
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[introduction for a new year]
Blade: my name is blade-
Silverwolf: boo 👎
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radiance1 · 1 month
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This au again lawl. Where Danny wears these special sunglasses to hide his eyes that also track down ghosts in his human form.
The Justice League tracks down a summoning for the ghost king, an eons old tyrant of the infinite realms and known to bring war and devastation whenever he is summoned.
The cultists do manage to summon the ghost king, except, not how they wanted. They did indeed summon the king, but Pariah Dark is still trapped in eternal sleep and somehow, just, somehow, they managed to draw the lottery and dragged the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep to the summoning circle.
So there the Justice League were, wondering what to do with the (currently) locked away and sleeping ghost king.
Until Constantine's coat flipped itself open and a boy with glowing white hair and a mist of blue blowing from his mouth.
"Old man." The boy greeted.
"Brat." Constantine said.
"Do you mind explaining why and how this," The boy gestured to the Sarcophagus. "Is here and not in Pariah's Keep?"
"Funny story, that one." Constantine said, only half-jokingly. He then went on to explain that the Justice League came to track down cultists, said cultists somehow managed to drag that here, and now they didn't quite know what to do with it.
The boy stood still for a moment, before taking off his sunglasses to pinch the bridge of his nose and sighed, a large amount of blue flame spilling from his mouth. "Ancients above, why is it every time something notable happens, it's always you?"
Constantine snorted, reaching into his coat for a pack of cigarettes and lighting himself one. "Hypocritical coming from you."
"I know, but still." The boy walked over to the Sarcophagus and sat on it, as if it wasn't the thing currently holding one of the most powerful ghosts in the infinite realms. "You know smoking is bad for you, right?"
"What, you learned that in class?" Constantine snarked, making no move to do anything and causing the boy to sigh again, toxic green eyes looked around the room, falling over each hero present before homing in on Flash. The boy pointed to him. "You. Come here."
"Whatcha want with red?" Constantine asked and the boy simply shrugged his shoulders. "Passing on a message."
The boy blinked once, and if he was surprised that the Flash was already in front of him, then he didn't show it. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a green sticky not, motioned for Flash to bent down and stuck it on his forehead.
Superman was... concerned. There was a heartbeat there, he could hear it, but it was so slow and seemed rather weak, like the boy was near death.
"Alright, now I gotta get old mean and green back to his keep before the Observants get on my case." The boy put back on his sunglasses and got up, waving Flash away and lifting up the Sarcophagus above his head he walked over to Constantine, whose face wrinkled.
"That ain't going to fit." The warlock pointed out and the boy scoffed, probably rolling his eyes behind his glasses. "And you've fit bigger things, just shut up and lift the coat old man."
Constantine did so, and somehow the boy just shoved the entire Sarcophagus inside. The boy was very obviously smug as the blue mist that was blowing from his mouth the entire time petered out. "I'll clean up the mess on my end," The boy said before waving his hand in the Justice League's general direction. "You deal with all that."
"Just get going already, I'm not about to get those sentient eyeballs on my ass."
"Yea, yea. You got enough to deal with as is." The boy then stepped inside Constantine's cloak and as soon as the man let it drop, he disappeared.
Constantine looked around the room, silently assessing the situation as he brought another cigarette to his lips.
He lamented the fact he would have to deal with this sober.
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nervousimposter · 11 months
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Eddie started finding notes in his locker his sophomore year. The first couple of them, he just tossed without reading. He didn’t need to read what those asshole bullies wanted to say about him. But curiosity won out after two weeks of constant notes and he finally opened one. It was the single most impactful thing he’d ever read. 
I think you’re the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen. 
He kept that note. And every other note he got from that point on. If anyone were to ask Eddie what he regretted most in his life, it would be those two weeks of notes he tossed without reading. Ten slips of paper with unknown writing that he wishes he could get back. Add them to his ‘mystery boys notes’ box. And he was a mystery, the note writer. Anonymous. Unknown. Impossible to catch. 
Eddie held out for a month. A whole month before he decided to stage a stake out. He watched his locker like a hawk. In between classes, during classes, lunch, after school and even one absolutely horrible day where he came in an hour before school started. But the mystery boy had to be invisible. He never saw anyone approach his locker but his daily note was always there. And Eddie; poor, unfortunate, infatuated Eddie dealt with mystery boys’ notes from ‘82 to ‘85. Four agonizing years of the most heart-warming, loving notes. 
I wish I was as brave as you.
Did you change your shampoo? Your hair looked so soft today.
God, your eyes have to be the biggest fucking eyes I’ve ever seen. So pretty.
I like how long your hair is getting. 
Saw you walking down the hall today and I’ve never wanted to kiss someone more. 
They started cute. Compliments here and there, even a doodle every once in a while. Hearts and smiley faces. But as the months and years went by, the mystery boy got deeper. Confessions and secrets. 
I think if I had a different dad, we would’ve been best friends.
Can you fall in love with someone you’ve never talked to?
I dream about us. 
I’m a boy. I’m sorry.
I want to hold your hand. Those rings are something else. 
I saw you trying to catch me. Adorable.
I wish I could take you on a date. Not give a shit what my dad would say or what people would think. 
I wish I could be brave enough to talk to you. 
You’re still the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen.
I’m graduating this year. I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you. I think I’m going to try to figure out a way to keep dropping these off next year. I don’t want you to forget about me.
The notes didn’t continue when the school year started. Eddie was embarrassed to admit he cried that first night. He wasn’t sure how the mystery boy was going to be able to get the notes to him but he fully believed it was going to happen. He went five weeks with no daily note in his locker. And then, it showed up on a Monday. He almost missed it, the tiny slip of paper. 
Sorry this took so long. Had to figure out how I was going to sneak these in here. I don’t think I’ll be able to call you pretty every day of the week this time around but I’m going to try my best! 
And mystery boy was right. The notes were always there on Monday. Just Monday. But Eddie didn’t complain. One note a week after five weeks of nothing almost had his heart bursting from his chest. It also narrowed down his search. Sort of. Mystery boy was either coming in on those Mondays to drop off the note, sneaking in on the weekends when the school was empty OR after school on Fridays. And look, he’s failed to graduate high school two times in a row now but he wasn’t stupid. Did it take him three months after the notes to start again for him to realize who it was? Yes but to be fair, for two of those months it was Eddie wallowing in denial. 
Five weeks into school was when he restarted Hellfire. Three weeks before that was when he brought in those new little freshman sheepies. The same freshman sheepies that got picked up by Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington who graduated last year. Steve Harrington who he catches staring at him from his beemer in the parking lot every Friday night before he takes the kiddies home. Steve who he categorizes as someone who is so far out of his league that it just couldn’t be him. But it’s been three months and there isn’t any other former Hawkins high student running around in or near the school. And now that Eddie’s almost certain Steve has been mystery boy these past few years, he can’t wait. He’s been in love with a figure made out of slips of paper for four years and his nonexistent patience has truly run thin.  
He calls for a break 15 minutes before they normally end their sessions. Tells the boys he needs to run to the bathroom and almost sprints out the door. His locker sits in the hallway just around the corner of the drama room. The door closing shut echos through the empty hallways, alongside the squeaks coming from his shoes as he hustles towards his locker. He freezes as soon as he turns the corner. 
Steve probably only had 30 seconds after hearing the door open and shut to process what he was going to do. He could’ve run or hid, maybe pretend like he just needed the bathroom while he waited. But Eddie watched him pause as they made eye contact instead. Watched as Steve looked him up and down. Watched him relax and lean back against the lockers behind him with a lazy smirk. His arm slowly moved up and Eddie could see a slip of paper held between his fingers. Steve didn’t break eye contact with him at all as he proceeded to shove the paper between the vents of his locker. They stayed like that for what felt like hours. Staring. Broken when Steve pushed himself off the wall and walked towards him. He didn’t stop. Side stepped around Eddie before they could collide. A faint brush of his fingers along the back of his hand as he walked past him. And Eddie just watched him pass. Just like he watched him slip that note in his locker, he watched Steve walk back down the hall and out the front doors.
He waited only five seconds after the doors closed behind Steve before he jogged over to his locker. Grabbed the note and shoved it into his pocket before running back over to the drama room. Told the guys that they stopped at a decent spot and would meet again next Friday. Walked with them to the parking lot to head home. To catch a glimpse of Steve. And there he was, sitting in his beemer, staring again. This time though, Eddie smiled at him. He smiled at him and pulled the note out of his pocket. Opened it right there in the parking lot while he stared back at Steve. It only took him a few seconds to glance down to read. And as soon as he did, he threw his head back and laughed. Cackled really. He looked back at the beemer and saw Steve with the widest grin. Watched him lift his fingers off the steering wheel and wiggle them at him before he started pulling out of the lot. He looked back down at the note in his hand and chuckled again. Who knew Steve Harrington knew DnD well enough to draw a perfect rendition of an eight sided dice?
Wanna go on a d8? - Steve Harrington xxx-xxx-xxxx
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venmondiese · 2 months
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This party is boring... wanna leave?
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✧ masterlist ✧ taglist ✧
Summary: The party you are in is boring, so you ask a cute nerd guy to leave with you... that is, until you find out this is his birthday party.  Maybe a gift and a happy birthday will fix his sad evening.
✧Pairing: Michael Gavey x Fem!Reader
✧Warnings: MDNI 18+, p in v, virginity loss, oral (m receiving), overall sweet, michael being a total nerd virgin.
✧Word Count: 7.8k
✧AO3 link: here
note: so i saw this tweet in my 2020 ig histories and i said... michael gavey coded, and here we are. Here is the original tweet (wendy and joy from red velvet haha) and AGAIN this is infinite i swear i am allergic to write things under 5k
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Michael couldn’t be more excited. He looks proudly at the poster indicating the date and place of his birthday. 
Nothing too glamorous, he rented one of the halls for hire in Oxford, the same one that they used for the Christmas party that (to no one’s surprise) he wasn’t invited. But he intended to do something fun about it, with the pool table and maybe some game algebraic beer pong. Who knows? It was his birthday, so he did the rules.
And he had a few friends he could invite, of course, renting a whole hall seems…. exaggerated, but truly, he couldn’t get a pool table in his room. He paid for this only for the pool table. Besides, he liked his Norman no mates friends. Friends if you could call them that; they were as friend to him as Oliver Quick once was. Just that this once… he won’t get too attached.
Well, ‘friends’ would actually be mates from the chess club, so they weren’t exactly popular these days. They barely had a girl in the group, so they weren’t great with girls either. Besides, the only other girl that he knew had agoraphobia so… it wasn’t happening. 
His mum made some little biscuits and cupcakes for his day, since she came to have a little celebration just for him and her in a near-by cafe at college. He could skip a few classes to be with his mum on his birthday, after all. 
The night started interestingly. The space was obviously much larger than what he thought it could be, so they hung around the couch and the pool table. He felt the victory as he won two chess matches and a pool game. Maybe it was birthday luck, since everything was coming up as great.
As they talked about which opening was their favourite, Michael heard a little knock. Once he approached the crystal door, he saw Oliver with Felix by his side, with some liquor bottles. 
Michael frowned a bit, as he was pretty sure he rented the room, he did it with a lot of anticipation and made sure no one else did before him. And it was crystal clear that he didn’t invite Oliver. Sure, in their friendship, he once or twice talked about doing something about his birthday, but he never invited Oliver. 
“Hey Mikey” Oliver says, with an shit eating grin, and Michael has to roll his eyes, by how smug and prideful he looked. An absolute jerk, if you asked him. Oliver didn’t even wear his glasses anymore, and was all parties and relevancy thanks to Felix. “Come on”
Before Michael could stop them, Oliver passes by his side, as Felix follows him patting Michael’s shoulder with a smirk (he could swear it was in a patronising way) and people follow from behind as Oliver looks in the room for the music speaker of the rented room.
Michael walked as the crowd quickly dispersed, and he grabbed the few gifts he received, and looked at his distressed mates. 
“Oliver you cannot be here, I rented the room” Michael screams as the room noise is quick to appear, so different from the silence of their small reunion. 
“I saw your pamphlet” Oliver says nonchalantly as he successfully manages to get the aux cable. “Birthday, eh?” He says mockingly
“I rented it! You have to get out” He says almost screaming, as the same way he did once they met, when he asked Oliver to say a sum for him to say.
“If you can get all of us out, mate… sure” Oliver shrugs, clearly not minding.
Michael looks defeated. Even if he stands there, angry, with the few gift bags on his hands, he feels embarrassed. He wanted to do one nice thing for himself, just once. It wasn’t as cheap to rent a hall for his birthday (he couldn’t do it anywhere else, truly, but he thinks that maybe the pub would have been nice even if few of his mates didn’t drink beer)
The room fills very quickly, sitting on the couches and talking as they get vases with something to drink, or beer cans.
“Michael” two of his friends approach him, and he looks at them “We could rescue the biscuits and the cake” They say proudly as they have it in his hands. 
He couldn’t fake to look at least smug, so he nods a bit numbly. “Yeah, sure.” He says a bit disoriented, looking around “The rest left?”
“This was not a party, we assumed…” 
“Not really our thing. Though Tim and Steve stayed to see if they could get any girls” 
Michael hums, and he doesn’t know what to exactly think, since he didn’t expect this. He was organised, he liked things to be as he already planned. It made him secure, and it was only logical. But this interruption made him anxious.
“I gotta save the pool balls” He says to his friends “They are going to fine me if I lose one of them” 
“What… we do with this?” His friend asks about the food.
“Uhm… take the biscuits with you…” Michael says. “And the cake… leave it on the library next to the pool table, and hide it… please” 
As he collects the pool balls, and walks upstairs to return them, he is very downhearted. He remembers the time that he invited his friends from school and only his cousins and his neighbour appeared to his party; very embarrassing and he hated celebrating his birthday with a party ever since. It was mostly his mum and granny, with his dog and cat. Nothing else, nothing too fancy.
He comes back for the cake as he tries to explain the situation to the people that manage the rented halls, there was not much for them to do, and he is suspicious that maybe Oliver or Felix paid them to keep the room. At least they promised not to charge if anything broke, and he was happy with that.
So, money wasted, party ruined and they couldn’t even sing to him happy birthday. 
He walks from between the crowd as he steals a beer. Fuck it, it wasn’t eve stealing since they ruined his party. He takes a break, since he feels really discouraged. He knows his mates are not really social butterflies, but more leaning to being socially anxious. He might need to apologise, and even face the idea that they might be annoyed at him, and maybe they’ll kick him out from the chess team.
He drinks his beer, looking at how Oliver and Felix hyped the whole thing out, people sitting on the pool table… He hopes his cake is intact. He looks at his beer can as he move it a little to stir the liquid (he totally doesn’t want to look miserable AND like an imbecile)
“Hey” A voice calls him as he drinks from his beer. He has to look up to the prettiest girl that has ever approached him, probably. You wear a pink pleated mini skirt, with a short baby pink hoodie that he could see your bright pink bra underneath. God, it was a lot of pink in one person. 
You look at him as he blinks a bit, and you look at him with an alluring smile as if waiting for him to say something, and once he doesn’t, you continue.
“This party is kinda boring” you start saying, with a soft smile and a bright in your eyes as you look at him, doing all your best efforts to flirt with him “Do you wanna leave together?”
Michael blinks a bit as he looks at you, trying to process the words in his head but he fails. “Uh… this is my birthday party” he admits embarrassed and awkwardly, as he looks away to not face the shame, and he adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose.
“Oh” you say looking at him, your smile fading a bit, a bit worried about your comment. “Oh, I’m sorry” you say, grabbing his forearm. “Didn’t mean to be rude”
“No problem” he says, looking at how your hand rests on his forearm, almost caressing it slowly. 
“I suppose you didn’t invite all these people, did you? It was kind of a last minute call” you say looking at him, actually interested in him. “You seem pretty out of place for that”
“No… It was for me and my mates” 
“Ohh…” You say looking around, and you feel a bit of pity, which he doesn’t want nor needs. “Well, I would have brought a gift.” You say, trying to cheer him up “What is your name?”
Did they send you to make fun of him? Must be.
“Michael Gavey” He says, and he refuses to look at you, not to give you or them the satisfaction.
“Michael” you repeat, and you tell him your name too. “You are cute” you add.
He blushes and looks at you as if you just insulted him, his eyes open and he frowns a bit. He turns his head away in shame.
“Thank you” he murmurs, not sure of what to think. 
“So… your birthday is today.” You say tapping your thighs a bit. “How… randomly, I didn’t know”
“I like my birthday” He murmurs, drinking his beer hesitantly “Tis’ the day of Pi” 
“Day of Pie?” You ask frowning, your arms in your back as you lean in the wall. 
“Of Pi” he repeats “Like the pi from maths”
“Ohh, the circle thing” You say nodding and smiling, as you now understand. “Why is it the day of pi..? Ohh, it is because today it’s fourteen of March”
“Yeah” He says, as he looks at his shoes a bit embarrassed. He usually would think you were stupid, who the fuck confuses Pi with Pie? But you were the only one caring enough. 
“You seem to like maths, like your.. Your shirt” you say pointing it out at his maths pun, and he becomes aware that he has been, in fact, wearing that shirt all the time. 
Fuck, did he really fought with Oliver and with the rental people with a Math pun shirt? No wonder no one took him seriously.
“Ah, yeah…” He says awkwardly. You were very much engaging in the conversation, scooping on his interests little by little. 
“Do you know that I am flirting with you, right?” You say looking at him in the eyes and he looks from his shoes to your face, a bit surprised and panicked.
“Ehm… me? What for?”
“Because you are cute, like I said” you repeat “And it is your birthday”
“You don’t have to pity me because of that…”
“I am not pitying you. It is not why I like you. Come on, do you think I am pretty at least?” You ask as you change your body weight from one foot to the other while looking at him with the most alluring smile he has ever seen. 
God, the question sounds stupid, because you are not only pretty, but you are the hottest girl ever, looking at him as he freezes in place. Your eyes could trap him, as enchanting as they were, and your diminutive clothing was driving him insane. 
“Eh… yes” he murmurs. “Very pretty…”
He seems perplexed about the straightforwardness of this whole thing, and he is very confused. Where has this night taken him?
“I meant what I said. The party… is meh. You and I could leave together, if you want” 
He blinks, as his tongue wets his lips as he suddenly feels frozen in place. His eyes look at your expression as if you were joking, and he is unsure what to think.
“Uh… well, I have to get my cake, really, m-my mates saved it on the back of the library in hopes nobody would find it..:” He starts saying, not really sure why he is telling you this.
“Okay, we’ll search it” you say without any problem about it. “I could sing happy birthday to you and you can blow the candles”
That’s how you are now following him like a puppy, as he takes out the cake from behind some decorations that weren't hiding the cake very well, but it is mostly intact. 
You two walk together, to leave and Michael thinks that never felt so ashamed. He felt like doing the shame walk, as he passed through the people with a fucking birthday cake and a pretty girl following him.
“Let’s go to your dorm!” You tell him with a happy smile, your hand on his shoulder as you lean closer to tell him that as you both walk together.
He is confused how you’ll give him a gift if they weren’t in your room, but he accepts, as his dorm isn’t actually so far away from the rented halls, so he guides you upstairs, and upstairs, at the point where he hears you whine because of your heels.
You look a bit amazed as he enters his dorm, leaving the cake on his desk and moving to turn on the bedside lamp. He looks around, and you are taking off your heels and being just in socks. He blinks as he looks at you. Doing that means she’s comfortable here, he thinks. 
“Ah, eh…. Have a seat in the…” You sit on the edge of his bed, next to his pillows and he blinks. He wanted to say ‘in the desk chair’ but he guessed it was too late.
“Your bed is comfortable” You say smiling as you pat your right side for him to sit by your side. “Come, sit!”
Michael blinks. He dries his sweat palm by rubbing his hands on his thighs a bit awkwardly, as he takes a seat on the edge of his bed by your side. Your legs were tucked under your body, already comfortable, while he is rigid and tense, all awkwardness in comparison.
“And your mates are still at the party?” You ask looking at him, batting your eyelashes at him with a sweet smile as you lean your body weight to your hand, right beside him.
“Uhm… eh, well, they told me they left, so it was a bit rushed… I don’t know, I could call them if you.. Want to sing to me happy birthday and that…” he says a bit hesitant, and he is a bit unsure of his words when you chuckle a bit, if you knew a secret “B-Because we couldn’t… I mean we didn’t have the time for that, and my mum bought that cake because it is my favourite..:” he rambles as his cheeks are pink with embarrassment.
You were divine. In more than one way, you were the prettiest girl that he had ever talked to. And you were also the first girl in his dorm. And this close to him. And the first one to be interested in him. 
“Ah, of course… I bet it is tasty, it is sweet that your mum bought it for your party” You say smiling, as you look at him “Well, I don’t think we should call them here”
“Uh… Why not? We aren’t many, we are just seven, and with you we would be a pair number, so we could play a chess match since we are a pair. If you don’t know I could teach you” He offers. God, why did he accept this? Because you were pretty and all smiles with him, but he didn’t know what women like you liked…
“It’s not that, Mikey” you say softly, looking at him with an alluring smile, leaning slightly closer to him, which is dangerous, because it is the moment he has to decide if to look at your face or your tits. “It is because I wanna give you a gift”
Michael blinks. “Oh.”
“Yeah… It would be awkward if they were here”
His mind is numb, and he looks at you a bit confused “... Because they already gave me a gift?”
You have to suppress a laugh, as you shake your head and look down a bit. He takes the opportunity to look at your tits briefly.
“No…” You say again, with that damn tone that he can’t decipher. “You are not really good at hints, are you?”
He stays silent, looking at you as he tries to get it. “Eh… no, but I am really good at maths…”
You chuckle a bit, as you look at his face with a look he (again) cannot decipher. 
“Of course you are” you say sitting slightly closer, and he stays still as he looks at you and your tits coming closer to him “Your birthday it is in the day of Pi” you made sure to say the last word correctly, emphasising on it, and he nods a bit. 
“Yeah…” he murmurs looking at you as he licks his lips, and his glasses slide ever so slightly on his nose as he has to look down at your face
“I wanna give you a gift…” you repeat, and it is now that he feels your hand slide to his thigh and closer to his crotch. And his breath freezes on his throat as he feels your hand move slowly to rub his dick from above his clothes, and the traitor practically gets hard instantly at something that isn't his own hand. 
Michael practically freezes at your touch, as your hand slowly rubs his jeans where his erection was forming. Your eyes look at him as you smile, god, you were so provocative it made his brain go off. He couldn't take his eyes out of your face as he opened his mouth to pant a bit, a bit unsure of if to stop this or make it keep going.  It is not like he doesn’t want to do… this, but a little part of him still thinks you are just mocking him and probably there were popular jerks waiting outside to make fun of him for falling for someone so out of his league. 
But you were so pretty, lookin at him with tender eyes. As he seems so hesitant about it all. It wasn’t like he didn’t want this, but he just… wasn’t sure what to do, because this was confusing all his thoughts. How could he even impress you? 
It is you who leans to capture his lips. On yours with a kiss, slow and calm, since he was so inexperienced. It was his first kiss, as a girl rubs his cock. He surely was dreaming. 
“Do you want it?”
He blinks confused, his lips briefly open and all flustered as your hands keep on hardening his cock. “Um… yes” He swallows hard as his eyes are closed due to how good (and strange) it feels. To have a girl doing this with him.
“You’ve done this before?” You ask looking at his eyes, and his glasses are sliding on his nose and he doesn’ even notice, and your hand pat his cock which makes him whimper a bit. 
“Eh… yes, but with myself. I mean, b-by myself, like with my hand, that is…”
You giggle at his naiveness, and you add “I meant if you have ever had sex”
Michael looks at you surprised, and he adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose again. You were so direct, and this was unlike anything that had happened in his life. You confused him, with your plays and teases, he was more simple, and more straightforward. “No…” He whispers in reply, breathing a little heavily now as you squeeze him through his pants. 
Your smile is confusing, since he doesn’t know what it means. Well, he doesn’t get the clue to. Most things you do anyways. “It is your birthday” you repeat “My treat, I’ll make you feel so good, Mikey”
He looks down at his pants as you unbuckle his belt. There was something about you, so seductive and sensual as you did all torturously slow. You weren’t rushed, and even did it for his sake, as he looked so frozen by it all. 
You turn your head to look up to him as you also zip down his pants. He tried to think about anything else, because he felt on fire.
“Can you take these off?” You ask him kindly, and he looks. Briefly confused. “I really wanna suck you off”
Oh god. He almost cums on his pants. Oh god.  He repeats on his mind as he moves a bit to take off his pants, at least to his knees. Oh god, oh god. His mind tried to remain sane, he tried to think about some maths, the comfort of simple logic tries to centre himself. 
You look pleasantly surprised by his size, and you hummed in delight and he saw how you bite your lower lip. His cocks spring free, fully hard and the precum leaking out from the tip. He looked nervously at you, as his cock practically begged your attention and affections, and he could feel a turmoil form on his stomach as he pleaded with his eyes for you to do something about it. 
“So big…” you praise him with a smirk, and he looks away in shame as he blushes. It was a good thing, he thinks, but he cannot help but feel hesitant.
You gently grab the base as your left hand rests on his left thigh, helping you as you lean down to capture the tip on your mouth, and he leans slightly back as if trying to squirm away. He looks at you, overwhelmed at the warm and moist sensation around his cock, ever so slightly, but so intense at the same time. He pants as if he just ran a marathon, looking down at you as his balls tighten and feel so ready to cum. But he forces himself not to.
“Oh… A-Ah, fuck…” he says as you take his dick out of your mouth to lick it, from his balls to his tip. God, no one really prepares you to know how easy it is to cum when a girl sucks you off.
He tries to think of equations, some diagrams or anything, anything to not cum so fast. You have his cock again in your mouth, sucking on his tip and your tongue moves to tease him as well. He was going insane.
He looks at you, with your bright eyes full of delight and mischief looking up back at him, as his cock was deeper and deeper on your throat, making its way through your warm mouth. 
And you didn’t seem to mind how the drool was spilling out from your mouth, wettening your chin and how you gagged slightly the more deep you swallowed him. He was amazed, truly, looking down at you as you sucked him off. 
It was different from how he imagined. He thought that at his first time, he would lead the way, he would be confident (because he knew about porn and how these things worked) and he would be dominant enough. Yet now, he feels unsure, trembling as his balls shaked in need to release, because you were amazing and so hot. 
Maybe he didn’t know a thing about this all. He thinks, as his shoulders tense from how good the head of his cock feels in your warm throat. It sends shivers on his spine and he has to whimper pathetically. 
“You are so perfect…, I swear” He mumbles without breath, whimpering pathetically. You would have giggled, because he didn’t need to swear, but he was cute to do so.
You move your hand to take the hair out of his face, and you grab his right hand, and he doesnt get at first what you mean, until you let his hand on your hair, it is when he understands that you want him to guide you and move his hips. 
His own hips hesitate at the beginning , strange at how he is supposed to move without looking ridiculous or being uncomfortable. Instead, he takes your hair carefully, with both hands as he leaves a deep breath out. 
His little whimpers are amazing, and so hot, you love to hear it. It was almost quiet, very low, but it was a delight to hear how he whimpers as his cock twitches in your mouth.
He moves your hair up and down on his body, fucking your face slowly. He didn’t want to be reckless, and when you needed to, he allowed you to have air from time to time. 
His balls were on fire, and his dick was so hard and it felt so good as you deepthroated him that he was at the verge of cumming. 
“I’m… oh, I'm going to cum, m’sorry…” he whimpers, moving your head onto his cock more harshly, but still careful not to make a mess and make you choke on his cock. He would feel bad if he hurt you like that, especially when you do him a favour.
His hips hesitate as he starts cumming, and he releases your head because he guesses it could be overwhelming. But you do not back away, rather swallow all of his spending in your mouth, savouring it delighted as you looked up to him, and he opened his mouth in awe. 
You were his wettest dream come true.
What are the chances, the possibility that a pretty girl like you, just looked at him and decided to do this? To give him the best head ever? To help him lose his virginity, thinking he is worth the chance when you are out of his league? 
He is a man of mathematics and logic. And even being good at probability, he knew the chances were almost zero. Almost.
And you looked so brightly at him as you cleaned some of his cum dripping down from your chin and licking it, not to waste a bit. 
“It… it was good?”
“Yeah” you say without a breath, as you smile. “I love your dick, it is so… amazing” He can almost cum again when he sees you lick your lips.
“Oh.” He says a bit flustered, his mind almost numb from his orgasm. “T-Thank you…” 
It is your smile who makes him smile a bit, awkwardly and with his cheeks red. He cannot believe this is luck. He is dumb struck, looking at your lovely face with still red cheeks and a wide smile. And you just sucked him off.
He is guilty, and he looks down at your tits for a brief moment, but looks quickly at your face, as if ashamed of doing that. But you still have that alluring smile, looking at him. He still doesn’t get what it means, but he goes along with the flow. 
“You wanna see my tits?” You ask with a sweet tone, as if it was the normalest question ever. You have seen his eyes drop to your breasts and then to your face, it was cute.
Oh my god. He will likely cum immediately at the sight. He knows it, and his cheeks are red as he thinks of your question.
“Yeah, please…” He asks without breath, as he accommodates in bed trying for his cock not to give him away. 
“I would have worn something way cuter if I knew this was going to happen” You explain taking out your jacket, and to his no-surprise, you didn’t wear a shirt underneath, just the bright pink bra that poked out of your jacket. 
“You look beautiful” he murmurs looking at your still clothed breasts, and he then looks up to your face. “You… If this is your less fancy outfit, then god damn me” 
You giggle at his words, he surely was odd from all the guys you knew. Perhaps his lack of experience, perhaps his nerdy personality. You don’t know, but you find yourself wanting to do all filthy and kinky things with this nerdy man.
You take off your bra, with quickness, as he looks at you completely mesmerised by your nakedness in front of him. He blinks at your perky nipples completely to his sight, and his mind just goes off. He is pretty sure that if you asked him what 1 plus 1 was, he’d say a pair of fine tits.
“You can touch me, Mikey” you say with a teasing tone, that makes him look at your expression for a brief moment. “Like you can grope my tits and all…”
The boldness of her offer makes him salivate, he is sure, and the desire within him is just intense and he knows he has to. His left hand reaches out cautiously and grasps your right breast. 
Your soft sigh is enough for him to do it slightly more confidently, but still not too harsh. He doesn’t actually know how hard it hurts if someone gropes too aggressively, and so he prefers to be gentle with you, because you deserve all of it. 
“Here. Give me your other hand” You say, and before you can extend your hand to grab his, his right hand goes to your other breasts, as if he was waiting for it.
Your breath hitches before you giggle a bit, as he doesn’t understand you. His face is red, from embarrassment, from touching a girl, a very much real girl that desires him too, and from awkwardness in him.
“I meant, give me your hand” You say taking his right hand from your breast and he doesn’t wanna let go, but he does anyway. “I wanna… Mm. I wanna to show you something”
Again with coded words, he was unaware of its meaning. But he waited for you to tell him, as you looked at him with a smile as you waited for him to say it.
“Oh, uh…” Michael mutters as his brain finally took notice it was his turn to say something. “Eh… okay? Show me…” he says unsure what to say.
You guide his left hand down, under your skirt. He just noticed that you had not taken off your skirt yet, as he was still clothed and with his pants down. But he didn’t mind it so much as you pressed his hand against your clothed pussy. 
“You.. Y-You are really wet” he says slightly amazed, and you nod with a smile as he just leaves his hand there, a bit amazed as his fingers do the slightest move to spread the wetness on his fingers. You hum in delight as you feel how bold he might be becoming. 
“Yeah, I am” you nod to him with a smile, and he looks at you flustered, as he leaves an awkward chuckle. “And your cock is hard again”
He looked down at his dick, and in fact, he was getting hard again. He looked back at you, and he smiled a bit embarrassed. You were also smiling, and that was the only clue he got to know that you were having the time of your life.
“It’s because you are so hot…” he says in a weak attempt to justify himself. “and so pretty”
You laugh, as you kneel slightly to take off your skirt and kick it somewhere in his bedroom. You were only wearing your panties now, and he felt like a salivating dog wagging his tail at the sight. God he was pathetic.
He looked at you, and before he could try to do anything, you say.
“It will be better if you sit properly in the bed, not the edge. So you can lean back in the pillows”
He has no idea why he should lean back in the pillows, but again, he is not the one doing demands in this. In his eyes, you are doing him a favour, this was his wettest dream, and you surely got nothing from it.
He takes off his pants and he crawls to sit in the bed, his back against the pillows (he used at least three, he found it more comfortable) and so he watched at you with a smile, as you kneel up again, now to take off your panties.
“I swear that if i knew, I would have worn a prettier pair of underwear” you start teasingly, as you move your hands to the sides of your panties to take them off.
Oh god, he thinks once again, as the image of a naked woman is enough to send him into numbness again. He was just gaining confidence to take some part in this, but he was just so inexperienced, he had to decide on either cum desperately or trying to last longer, and he didn’t know that the last took all of his brain energy.
“Here” You say, grabbing his hand and leaving your panties in his hand. He looks at you, and you add “Another gift. You can keep it” 
He looks at you, slightly amazed by it. He holds your panties in his hand, and he can feel the wetness of it, knowing that you were (and are) so wet right now drives him insane. He looks at you and he blinks a bit surprised, and honestly, much more aroused. 
“Thank you..” he says as he appreciates this odd gift. He has no idea what use it may have apart from the sentimental one, but maybe it is like his own trophy? 
You get comfortable, still kneeling on the bed, you crawl to be atop of his lap. Each knee on the side of his thighs, and he has to look up to see you. Maybe his favourite part about this is how your tits are in front of his face. He loves it.
“Your hand” She asks, and when she extends her hand he is clever enough not to make the same mistake twice. He passes her his hand, and she guides it to her pussy once again.
Now he knows. Why men went to war for women. Why Troy was destroyed, for stealing one woman. Why men went insane for the touch of a woman. He gets it now. 
Your pussy drips wet as he touches it; bare and warm. He is surprised, in all honesty, as his fingers are rigidly moving forward and back. It is not rough; but it is rigid enough to let know his inexperience in the matter.
“I wanna make you feel good” He says looking at you, almost begging for you to teach him how. He wants to know the secrets that could have you squirm and moan crazily over him, as he was over you. 
“This is about you” You say, your hands moving to the edge of his shirt, to take it off from him. He helps you in it, and he leaves a breath as now both of you were naked in front of each other.
Your soft hand caresses his chest. He is no muscular guy; yet you caress him so tenderly that he has to look at you with that puppy look. He really wants to make you feel good.
“Tell me what to do.” He asks again, he looks pathetically needy to you; eager to make you cum on his fingers, and eager to learn how to please you.  His fingers linger hesitantly around your pussy, and he does his best guiding himself from little experience and instinct. 
You smirk as you bite your lower lip as you let a little whimper out. He was cute and hot, more than most guys you knew from before. Maybe getting with the nerd was a fantastic idea.
“I want you to fuck me” You say instead, smiling at him “I want your cock, not your fingers- for now. Besides, this is about you. You are the birthday boy”
As your hips lower on his lap, he takes off his fingers and looks at you sitting above his cock. You grind slightly as he opens his mouth agape slightly, the mere thought of fucking you has him all excited, and aroused.
“I do wanna.. Do that” Michael says with a longing smile, as you nod to him. The feeling of your pussy rubbing against his own dick. He can’t take it anymore, he longs for you too much. 
He is clumsy as he moves his hips, the head of his cock passing eagerly through your folds in search of your entrance, and he looks up at you as you moan at the feeling. He got something right. 
His puppy eyes catch your attention as his tip presses on your centre, and you look down at him a bit breathlessly. “You can’t cum so fast, Mikey. I want you to enjoy it” He nods when you tell him that, and he leaves a shaky breath at the feeling. 
“I… I’ll try…” He says looking at you, trying his best to hold back. But your body is too tempting for him. He is going to pass out, surely.
You move to search for something in your clothes, and you take a condom from somewhere. He isn’t too sure. He is looking at the ceiling waiting for you as he thinks on some hard equation from class, and he tries for the burning turmoil on his belly, full of lust and desire to calm down even a bit. He wants to have you moaning on his cock so hard, he will need strength.
Your movement is fluid when you put the condom on his length, and he is sure you have done this so many times. On other occasions, he’ll think something witty about it, but now he is rather intimidated. How is he supposed to compete with your experiences?
You move your hips slightly, as you start to sit down on his cock from one move. Slow and soft, he is sure you make sure it isn’t so intense for him, as your walls have a tight grip on his hard cock, and the feeling of finally being inside of a woman is incredibly intimate. His cock pulsates on your insides, and he has to look down, enjoying the sight of his thick cock stretching your pussy.
“Fuck…” You say breathlessly as you throw your head back, moaning in delight as you move your hips slightly.
“You’re so warm… and thigh..” he pants, his hands go to your hips as you ride him. 
“It feels nice?”
“More than that” He says looking up to you, and he whimpers as you move your hips. 
“I’ll let you get used to it.” You tell him softly “I think it could be a bit overwhelming, I guess”
“Yeah. A bit” he says with an awkward smile which makes you smile too, and you grab his cheeks as you lean a bit to kiss him softly. 
His enthusiasm is endearing, as he tries to passionately kiss you, but you are sticking with the slowness of it all. He whimpers a bit on your mouth as he can feel how your cunt tightens around him. 
Once you are apart, his glasses are again slowly sliding down on the bridge of his nose and you bite your lower lip as you hold a moan. God, what a hot nerd you are fucking.
“You are so amazing” He murmurs, looking up to you “And you feel so good…”
“Uh huh…” You hum as you whimper a bit, and so does he. 
“And I have… I have never done this before…” He mutters looking at where your pussy swallows his dick.
“I know” You say, giving him a peck. “But you make me so aroused, so hot…”
Michael blinks a bit confused, but he gains slight confidence in this. He nods at you and he lets his hands fall by the side of your legs, and he can only focus on the way that you ride him. You squeeze him, in all the way he can think of. Your cunt is squeezing his shaft. Your knees are squeezing his legs. All of your existence squeezes him, and he loves the feeling. 
He looks up at your face, you are moaning openly and you have your eyes closed as your hands rest on his biceps, helping you bounce on his cock. You look amazing. 
And your tits, God, your tits. Bouncing on his face as you ride him, all perky and perfect for him, and the sight of your tits make him leak more precum in the condom, as he tilts his hips slightly up so he gets deeper in the warmth of your cunt.
He stays looking at you, while his balls are tightening at how wet your pussy is. He is mesmerised by you, he cannot even find himself letting any sound out of his mouth. He is almost numb, looking at you as he makes you moan like this. 
He is making you moan desperately as you ride him. He is the one responsible to see how aroused he truly has you. You lean your body closer to his chest, moaning as you ride him, and he bites his lip desperate to cum. 
His own hips rut back to yours, thrusting clumsily as you sink down on his cock. Your pussy clenches around his cock, and he’s fully engrossed in the sensation.
Michael wants to cum so bad. He doesn’t think he has ever been in such a need to cum.It’s all his foggy mind can think of, cumming and you. And cumming in you, those two subjects interrelationate. 
“Tell me” He pleads, which makes you look at him again “Please, tell me how to make you cum”
His puppy eyes, how his glasses are slightly off on him, makes you moan almost on his face. 
“Your hand” You say, and he got the clue now. He is a quick learner, and instead of letting you hold his hand, he moves it down to your pussy. 
You moan at the feeling of his hesitant hand there, and he laughs a bit breathlessly, growing slightly bolder and he loves how desperate you seem. “Teach me”
“Fine, fine, wait..” You say stopping your movements, as reluctant you both may be to that.
You lean slightly back, your hand goes to grab his knee to help you not fall. He can see more of your pussy like that, and you sigh as if trying to think clearly.
“Here” You say, grabbing his wrist and moving it slightly up. He has no idea what you mean, but he is learning, so he follows your lead. “This is my clit, so you rub it… Not harshly, not too aggressive. It can be intense, but… you have to do it gently. Firm, but gently” 
He has no idea how to do both, but he’ll try. Before he can start, you grab his wrist again, and he is confused. What else is there that you take so long to say?!
You take his hand up, and your mouth is quick to engulf his index and middle finger inside, wettening them  with your own saliva before letting them go; not without leaving a provocative lick beforehand. 
“Now” You say with a slight smile “Just gently.” You repeat, and he nods.
He is so going to cum just from seeing you lick his fingers so lustfully. 
Michael tries his best, he does. His fingers find the little thing, so small, and he is unsure what response something so tiny could do. But anyways, he does as told. His fingers hesitate before rubbing slightly there, left to right at the beginning, and then up and down.
“F-Fuck!” You say almost closing your legs around his hand and dick, but you force yourself to remain open. Your other hand goes to hold you onto the mattress of the bed, so you don’t fall. You are leaning backwards now, and he can see your body in all it’s glory. 
It does have an amazing effect, he realises, as he rubs circles on your clit and you moan even higher, your legs tremble as you force them open, and you start lowering on his cock again. Unlike the last time, you don’t take the time to make sure his cock enters and comes out fully, but you just grind against it, and when you move up and down, it is barely just in the base of his cock. But the tip? It never leaves your wetness.
He wishes he could see the bump of his cock on your belly. He looks at your abdomen, and he can practically imagine how the shape of his cock would poke out from your abdomen.  
“I want to cum” He says, panting as his brain is overwhelmed. He is overdoing things, he tries to rationalise this, but between rubbing your clit, your cunt wrapping around his cock and his moans leaving his mouth, he feels like he will pass out any moment now.
“M-Me too” You whine, desperate as your hips rut more desperate on his cock, and that turns him even more. 
He has made a girl desperate for him. And he’ll make a girl cum on his cock.
Michael makes sure to rub your clit in a delicious manner. Or what he guesses is a delicious manner. And since you almost sob your moans, he’d say he is doing a fucking amazing job. 
“FUCK” He says as he feels your cunt squeeze him so much, that his mind practically goes blank “I-I’m cumming” He barely gets the words out as he feels himself spent on the condom inside.
He moans, loudly, it could be embarrassing if it wasn’t so pleasurable, and he has to throw his head back from the pleasure on how his shoulders tense up.
You grab his wrist, and he gets the clue that he has to keep his touch on your clit. Your cheeks are red from stimulation, and as he pants and whimpers from his orgasm, as he rubs your clit. It doesn’t take long, as you practically cum all over his cock, milking his dick and making sure his balls go empty. 
Even if he orgasmed first, your peak leaves him dry, and spent in more than one way. He doesn’t think he will ever hear a girl moan so loud and pleased as you when you cum thanks to him. 
When you fall to his side, he takes off the condom, leaving it on his bedside table. He looks at you, panting hard on his side, and he feels the same, as he looks at you, still mesmerised by you. 
He searches for your hand, awkwardly, and he moves you slightly closer to him. 
You both remain breathlessly, pants as you two face the ceiling. 
“So” You start saying, and he turns his head to yours, and you have another of your mischievous, alluring smiles on your face. “Have you blown the candles?”
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eddiesxangel · 3 months
Text
The Kissing Booth | E.M x G!N!Reader
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Cw: flufffffff, mild angst on Eddie’s part. Smooching. Reader wears lipgloss. No use of pronouns.
Wc 1.4K
Eddie could not believe this was happening to him.
“Nope, nope, no way, man. Over my dead body-“
“What my boy means is he is grateful he is not being suspended and will graciously accept his punishment of volunteering at the school fair.” Wayne looks at his nephew with a glare in his eyes that Eddie hasn’t seen in a very long time.
“Great, then it’s settled,” Ms. Laughlin, the guidance councillor, smiles.
It was happening. Eddie was being served the most gruesome punishment, and all because he skipped P.E. of all classes.
Eddie Munson was being forced not only to participate in the school fair but to work the kissing booth, of all things.
How on earth would he survive this? Not only would he be the laughingstock of the school, but he would also have to endure the absolute embarrassment of having no one come up to his booth, and he would also have to be forced to participate in extracurricular activities.
“Just wait until Hellfire hears about this boy,” Wayne laughs as he drives him and Eddie back to the trailer.
All Eddie could do was roll his eyes; he could never show his face again.
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“You’re not going to believe the rumour I heard today.” Nancy looks at you from over her shoulder. She is sat at your vanity.
“What?” You asked, intrigued, as you got dressed and got ready for tonight’s festivities.
“A little birdy told me that a certain someone is working the kissing booth tonight.” She smirks.
“Who?” You challenge her back.
“Who, what?” Robin walks into the bedroom from the bathroom.
“Nancy knows who is working one of the kissing booths tonight, but who’s telling me” you pout.
“Ohhhhhhhh,” Robin smirks knowingly.
“Oh, not you, too! Come on, who is it!”
Robin and Nancy give one another a nod of the head before Nancy speaks.
“Eddie Munson.”
“Ha ha, very funny; you think I’m going to believe that? How gullible do you think I am?” You snort.
“No, it’s true! Shelly from the student council told me when we were working on the student paper! Instead of detention, this is his punishment, to help out at the fair tonight.” She wiggled her brows at you suggestively.
“Who else’s working it?” You try and ask casually.
Your friends knew about your crush on Eddie. It had been about a month since you confessed to one of your late-night sleepovers.
“Um, I’m not too sure what other guy, but I think Chrissy is working the girl's booth. Nancy shrugged.
“Cool…cool…” you turned to the closet, now faced with a sense of anxiety to find the perfect top.
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Eddie was actually dying on the inside. Ten minutes until his “shift” at the booth, and he wanted to book it.
Running away would solve his problems, right? He would much rather be suspended than have to endure this humiliation. This was a cruel and unusual punishment.
He watched from the sidelines as Josh was at the booth currently. He was the senior star quarterback on the football team. Everyone wanted him. He could just see now the long line disbursing once he stood there.
"Hey man, you're up next in 5." Eddie was snapped out of his internal monologue when he felt a hand resting on his shoulder. He wasn't sure how long he had been there stewing with his own thoughts. "Don't worry, it's not all bad. Some customers are cute," Josh smirks.
Oh god. What if he actually had to kiss someone tonight? He hadn’t thought of that option. Like, what if some actually came up? What would he do? Are they expecting tongue?
“You have some gum or something?” He asked quickly before Josh left.
He smirked and tossed him a pack of icy mint.
“Thanks.”
Eddie peaked around the corner to where the booth was set up. The fair was set up on the school football field. There was a small sign that said be back in 5 and no lineup to be seen.
That made Eddie feel a bit better; no one was there. That took some humility out of it.
Before Eddie could back out and run, he felt another hard hand on his shoulder.
“Come on, Munson, your time to shine.” Jeff and Gareth practically dragged Eddie to the booth, kicking and screaming.
“You’re the worst friends ever,” Eddie huffed as they backed away from the booth. Watching him so he won’t run away.
“You can't serve the time and shouldn’t do the crime.” Jeff laughed.
“That’s not-“ Eddie was cut off mid-sentence as he saw Robin and Nancy pushing you towards the booth just like he had been moments ago.
“Don’t make me do this,” you plead with your best friends.
“You have to do it,” “It’s now or never,” “He’s right there. Just have him your ticket and pucker your lisp. It’s not that hard,” Robin and Nancy whispered in your ear as they dragged you towards Eddie.
“You guys, please, I can’t!” You say a bit too loudly as you fight back your friends from pushing you up to the booth.
You can see the look on Eddie’s face as you are pushed up the step of the booth. He looks disappointed? Disgusted? You’re not too sure.
You let out an embarrassing squeal as you stumbled in front of Eddie. “Um hi”
Despite not being well-acquainted with Eddie, you couldn't help but notice him whenever he walked by. You only exchanged a few words in passing and learned about him through your friends. Although you never had the opportunity to spend time together, you found him to be irresistibly charming and incredibly good-looking. Whenever you caught a glimpse of him in the cafeteria, he never failed to bring a smile to your face with his silly antics and infectious laughter.
“Uh hey,” he spoke back, clearly uncomfortable.
“Busy night for you?” You ask, trying to delay the inevitable.
“Uh nope.”
“Good,” you smile; the thought of Eddie kissing anyone else made you want to vomit.
“Good?” He cocks a brow at you. “The thought of nobody wanting to come up to the freak of Hawkins High is good to you?”
“Oh I didn’t mean it like-“
“Why are you even here?”
“Oh- well- I um-"
“No, I get it. You’re just here on a dare, or you lost the bet, right? I really thought better of Nancy and Robin; I thought they were my friends… You know I heard you say you can’t do this. I understand the thought of kissing me is so terrible that-“
You couldn't help but cut off Eddei from his intrusive thoughts. You held his face with both hands and smushed your lips together. The thought of Eddie thinking that about you was far worse than the fear of kissing him.
It wasn't everything you had dreamed of. However, the kiss was still nice. You felt the eruption of butterflies fill your stomach as Eddie deepened this kiss himself. You kissed him until you could no longer breathe. Only then is when you pull away.
“Woah”
“I hope that was okay.” You shy away.
“Yeah.” Eddie sighed as he took you in.
As he gazed upon you, he was struck by how pretty you were, which he had overlooked until now. The sweet aroma of strawberries wafted from you as the strawberry lipgloss lingered on his lips, just below his nose.
“Um, here,” you jut out your hand with the crinkled ticket you hadn't yet paid with.
“Oh no, no, the house,” Eddie said without thinking and that made you giggle.
“Well, I really only bought a ticket for this, so I might as well cash it in.” you flirt.
“Ok, yeah, sure. Two for one.” Eddie took the ticket from your hand and brought it back to cup your cheek before kissing you again.
You could hear the giggles and cheers of your friends from behind you in the distance, but your main focus was on Eddie. His soft, plush lips. His minty taste, the way his soft hair tickled your cheeks.
“Ok, lovebirds, that’s enough.” the supervising teacher returned with an unimpressed huff.
You begrudgingly pulled away, but with a smile nonetheless.
“Can I get your number?” Eddie’s mouth was moving before his brain could catch up.
“Come find us later, lover boy.” Robin giggled while snatching your arm and pulled you away before you could answer.
“Dude!” Gareth clapped his hands, having witnessed the whole thing.
“Maybe we should sign up for this,” Jeff laughed. A little jealous of what he just witnessed.
After you, Eddie didn’t care if he got another customer for the rest of the night. Maybe this whole kissing booth thing wasn’t too bad after all.
2K notes · View notes
multific · 5 months
Text
Love Potion
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Mattheo Riddle x Reader
Summary: Mattheo always looked at you in a certain way.
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His eyes always followed your every move.
You noticed it very early on just how much attention he was paying to you.
His eyes followed you everywhere.
No matter the place, time or occasion.
Let it be class or breakfast or lunch or dinner.
He always had an eye on you.
And you actually didn’t mind.
Mattheo is a very handsome guy. Even if everyone and even your instincts warned you about him, there was still something.
Something which kept you interested.
You felt a pull towards him.
A pull you never acted on.
So, it was mostly longing looks exchanged between you two, nothing more. 
One evening, you were having dinner with your friends.
Hermione talked about Ron and how stupid he was. Then you grabbed a bonbon and popped it into your mouth.
“Y/N NO!” you heard someone say but it was too late.
Amortentia.
Or as they called it, love potion. 
The entire room smelled like him. Amortentia tends to smell like the person you are in love with, you didn’t even realise. 
You were blind.
The room smelled like smoke, honey and wood.
You wanted to see him, kiss him.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for you to eat it!” said one of the Hufflepuffs. “I was meant to prank my roommate!” 
While everyone was talking, you were quick to run off into the backyard of the school.
You had a pretty good idea of where to find Mattheo.
And surely enough, you found him by the trees smoking.
“RIDDLE!” you yelled, making him flinch and almost drop his cigarette.
“Y/N?”
“Kiss me! RIGHT NOW!”
“Are you drunk?”
“Just in love, come on.” you ran over to him, almost making him trip as you came in contact with him.
He grabbed you to save you from falling and this is when he noticed your eyes.
“Were you given something?”
“All I feel is looooove.” you said and smiled.
Mattheo noticed Hermione from the corner of his eyes.
“What happened to her?”
“A Hufflepuff gave her Amortentia.” she explained as she grabbed your hand and began to pull you back.
“Love potion? Why?”
“Forget this happened Riddle!” Hermione yelled back at Mattheo as you waved to him.
“Byeeee Matty!” he lifted his hand and gave you a small wave back. He was utterly confused.
“I CAN’T BELIEVE I DID THAT!” you yelled into your pillow once the potion wore off. “Why didn’t you stop me?!”
“I tried!” said Hermione.
“I want to die. I’m so embarrassed. At LEAST he was alone! Imagine if I did that in front of the school!”
“Well… on our way back to our rooms… you kinda… just a tiny little bit yelled in front of everyone passing by that Mattheo is yours and you will fight for your true love… kinda.”
“Oh. My. Fucking. God. No.” you shook your head but she nodded. “NO. PLEASE NO.”
“And… maybe… kinda… The Slytherins were also there? Maybe?”
“I am jumping out the window,” you said as you stood up and walked towards the window, Hermione grabbed your hand and pulled you back. “I want to die, please. This is so embarrassing!”
“The thing is that almost everyone like cheered for you. Malfoy even wanted to give you a high-five for being so brave. I thought he was being sarcastic, but he was for real. Then Theodore came up and said ‘Go get him, Tiger’ They were all cheering you on.”
“So, I’m the laughingstock of the entire school. Lovely.”
You fell back into your bed, face into the pillow. How will you face everyone tomorrow?
 “Mattheo Riddle! The lucky guy!” said Theodore as he hit Mattheo in the shoulder. “Having one of the prettiest girl scream and declare her love for you. Lucky you!” Mattheo rolled his eyes at his friend.
Although he couldn’t sleep one bit for the entire night, his mind was way too busy.
“It was only a prank.” Mattheo said. It was the only logical explanation.
“Nope. You know Angie? The Hufflepuff girl? Nevermind… Apparently, she made some chocolate for her friend as a prank, but Y/N ended up eating one and it had Amortentia in it.” Mattheo looked at Theodore, trying to see if his friend was lying but he wasn’t.
“And how do you know that?”
“Angie told her friends and I heard it. They didn’t realize I was standing there. But lucky you, having a girlfriend! Don’t fuck it up tho! Or I might steal her.”
“Piss off.” Theodore laughed as they both entered the class.
Mattheo’s eyes immediately locked with yours. You looked scared as you looked away. He could only imagine how you were feeling.
But he was just as confused and embarrassed.
After classes, you wanted nothing more than to run back to your room and hide from everyone.
No one said a thing. But the looks they gave you, said it all.
You just wanted to get out.
You made it to the hallways when someone behind you called your name.
It was Mattheo, your eyes widened as you quickly darted into the girl’s bathroom.
“Y/N, I just want to talk.”
“Look I’m sorry what happened okay?! Please just forget it.”
Then he opened the door and came into the bathroom as you back away and walked into the sinks. 
“This is the girl’s bathroom what are you doing?”
“I need to know if, what you said is true. Did you mean any of it or was it the potion?”
“I-I.” you wanted to lie, you wish you were a better liar. All you could do was listen to your heart hammer in your chest. 
“So it’s true. What you said is all true… you do lo-”
“OKAY now, please, I’m embarrassed enough, I do not need your rejection, Riddle. Please can you just leave me alone?” you wanted to go into a stall and lock yourself for eternity.
“I thought you hated me.” he suddenly said and you looked at him, shocked. “I was watching you and… you always avoided my looks. Okay, not always but many times.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Just agree to grab some butterbeer with me. That could be a start.”
“What?” you were so confused.
“I’m asking you on a date.”
“You are asking me on a date?”
“Why is that so hard to believe?” he asked as you turned your body back towards him.
“I thought you didn’t do… dates.” you sounded very nice, you worded it even more nicely.
“I don’t. But with you, I will.”
“So, what? You… like me too? After what I said and did yesterday?”
“It was very cute.”
“Cute? Which part exactly? When I yelled at you to kiss me or when I swore to kill whoever dares to go close to you?”
“Exactly.” he smirked. “I will wait for you, get ready for our date. An hour? Is that enough?”
“Okay. An hour.” he nodded and turned to leave.
You stood there, stunned when a voice behind you made you jump.
“How romantic!”
“Myrtle!”
“You have a date! Go get ready!” she yelled and you listened.
You got ready relatively quickly.
You debated not going, then you decided to give it a try and go.
Then, as you waited by the gates you were prepared for Mattheo not showing up.
Maybe this was his way of repaying you for embarrassing him?
But, he did show up. He did take you out to eat and drink and you did have a good time.
He did walk you back to your dorm and placed a small kiss on your cheek as a goodbye.
He did all that.
And if you only knew it would take a small amount of love potion for you to finally be with him, you would have eaten that piece of chocolate a long time ago. 
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Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster@capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak  @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @noname2246
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
3K notes · View notes
night-raven-tattler · 2 months
Text
Can you offer me a nice shirt in this trying time?
Summary: The usual shenanigans leave you with an unwearable shirt. All you can do is ask your friend (?) for help.
Characters: Leona, Jade, Epel, Malleus and GN!Reader (separate, platonic adjacent...?)
Warnings: mentions of anxiety and mild panic over the dirty shirt
By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.
-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
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Looking at your pathetic expression akin to a kicked puppy while you tried to cover your dirty shirt made Leona burst into laughter, even after you just stepped on his tail
You looked away, flustered, not even wanting to recount the embarassing turn of events that just happened
But you didn't need to; Leona heard it all
He heard you from the other side of the botanical gardens talking with your friends, who started bickering with each other
Things got a bit physical in a playful way, but none of you really expected to shove each other so hard you all crumbled to the ground like a ridiculous domino
And the only thing you could be glad for was that you missed the pile of compost nearby
And now you were in front of him as he quite enjoyed your flustered state
"I wanted to apologise for stepping on your tail, you know. But I changed my mind."
Leona's laughter turned into snickering as he wiped nonexistent tears away from his eyes
"If you don't want me to laugh, then stop acting like a clown."
You stomped your foot, which made Leona look at you
"This is serious! I have no other clean shirt and class is going to start soon. So you can either help me or give me an idea or leave me alone."
Something in Leona's eyes changed at your words: his mocking aura went away slightly, and you could almost hear what he was thinking
Still thinking about class after being dragged in dirt? Damn goody-two-shoes.
"Alright, I'm doing this just this once. But if I catch you play in dirt again, you're on your own, you damn warthog."
Leona put a hand in his pocket, then tapped his foot
To your surprise, the dirt started vanishing from your outfit right away
All you could do was stare at Leona, mouth agape
And he stared right back at you
Until his smile turned into a frown in a secons
"What are you waiting for, a kiss on the cheek? Just go to your class already."
You just frantically nodded and scurried away from him
...just to return a few seconds later and leave, in fact, a kiss on his cheek
He just stared at you while you awaited any kind of reaction beside his resting tired face
"...Forget what I said about not helping you. Next time I'll shove you into dirt myself."
That reaction seemed to satisfy you enough, as you took your leave right after his threat
『••✎••』
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Working at the Mostro Lounge had its ups and downs
Ups: the job is on campus, the place is always looking for workers and it's one of the best paying jobs on campus
Downs: one of your coworkers is Jade, and the other is Floyd
They'd be relatively nice coworkers if they didn't take their sweet time with helping you while enjoying every second of suffering from all living creatures
Like they did when you tripped on your way to a client and spilled the drink on yourself
They just watched for a few seconds how you panicked over the dirty shirt and the irritated customer
Jade came and dragged you away a few seconds too late for your liking while Floyd started on another drink against his will
You had no idea why Jade led you to the Lounge's changing room, but his smile did not calm you down at all
After all, Jade was very talented at everything except of being reassuring
He left you on your own for a few seconds, coming back with a new uniform shirt, which he handed to you
"This is a replacement for your dirty shirt. Please get changed so you can resume your duties."
You stared at Jade suspiciously
Was he handing you a shirt just like that?
He accepted your silent confusion for a few more seconds before his smile widened, showing his teeth
"What is the problem, Reader? Perhaps you require my assistance with getting changed?"
No matter how hard you frowned at him, the blush was not making your disdain too effective
"What? No! That's not it!"
"...So you're saying you would not refuse my services if that were to be the case?"
"I- no! Ugh!"
Even while you hid your face in the shirt you knew he was still giving you that annoying grin
"You're saying I can just change into this? Without any payment or punishment?"
Jade gasped and put a hand over his chest, feigning offense
"What an incredulous accusation, Reader. I can assure you that no consequences will follow you needing another shirt for the remainder of your shift."
"..."
"..."
"...Are you sure?"
"Certainly."
You knew better than to trust any of the tweels, but you supposed you'll cross that bridge when you got to it
Besides, being MIA on your shift might make Azul take thaumarks out of your paycheck, and you didn't need to manifest that kind of outcome
"Fine, I'll take it. Please leave so I can change."
"As you wish."
So he left you in the empty changing room, a hint of a blush still on your face
You knew getting revenge on any student at NRC was a bad idea, but you couldn't help but imagine "accidentally" spilling some cherry juice on Jade's dorm uniform
『••✎••』
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Cleaning duty in the library was not fun, but at least Epel knew how to make things entertaining
He wasn't a comedian or anything like that, but his Vil-themed tirades were always animated and gossipy enough that they had you hooked on his every word
Or every word that you could understand, at least
And a complaining storytelling Epel is not the most careful Epel
So you were not too surprised when he spilled some ink on your sleeves
"Hey, my shirt! You spilled ink on me!"
Epel noticed the big stains and his eyes widened
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!"
"What am I gonna do?! I have no clean laundry today!"
While you were frantically pacing around, Epel was staring at the floor, not being able to meet your eyes
"Hey, come on... It's not that bad. See, it's just a small stain!"
The death glare you threw his way rivaled Vil's, and Epel took a step back instinctively
"Okay, okay! I get it, let me think..."
A few seconds of contemplation later, Epel went to the window and looked outside
"Hey, Vil is having a club meeting outside right now. He must have a stain stick or a spell or something."
"What about cleaning duty?"
"Just go deal with your shirt and come back when it's clean. I'll put away all the old ink in the meantime."
After Epel's convincing, you relented
But now you had the perfect opportunity to show off your newly aquired NRC thirst for revenge...
Let's just say that Vil was very thankful you told him about Epel's attitude towards your stain while he dealt with it....
Epel did not talk to you the next day
Except for that time during lunch when he came towards you with a bitter expression and some comically overfilled pockets
When he got next to you, he shoved his hand into one of his pockets and, with difficulty, pulled out 5 stain pens
"I hate you."
That was all he said before walking away
『••✎••』
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During your days as an NRC student you've learned a lot of things, including facts about the weather
1: The weather will always be nice on the date of the monthly scarabinelle debates in the courtyard
2: The statue of the King of the Underworld from the courtyard never got wet from rain
3: Unlike his statue, you were not waterproof
Neither was your shirt
So by the time you reached the Hall of Mirrors, you were soaking wet
You marveled at your misfortune right as Malleus entered the room through the Diasomnia mirror
His mild surprise from bumping into you made him almost not notice your predicament
"...Child of man? What happened to you?"
You sighed and told him you were caught in the rain, but you had no clean change of clothes and were feeling pretty cold already
"Hm. This can't do. Humans are very fragile creatures, a simple soak can leave lasting effects on your body.
Malleus seemed to fall deep in thought, as if he was presented with an incredible puzzle, and not the random misfortune of a friend
He nodded to himself, and you were curious to know the conclusion he reached
"Allow me to help you."
You sighed of relief at his decision
Out of everyone on campus, you trusted Malleus to be genuine and helpful, so you accepted his help
You didn't think much of it when he pulled out his magical pen from his pocket; you figured he was just going to use a small drying spell
Boy were you wrong.
Malleus rotated his pen slightly in the air, creating an ever growing wind
The speed and intensity of it grew very fast, and you had to grab onto a pillar to hold yourself in place
You watched in horror how a few students were pushed by the wind back into their mirrors as soon as they entered the Hall of Mirrors
You couldn't even attempt to do any damage control, since the wind was too loud for your voice to be heard
After what felt like forever, Malleus' wind started to dwindle and your feet were able to be on the ground again
"That... That certainly was a method of helping."
"Well? Was it successful? You seem pretty dry to me."
He smiled proudly at you
It was obvious how he knew that he did a good job and he was simply awaiting your praise
You patted down your uniform, and were surprised to notice your uniform was, indeed, dry
"...Yeah, actually. Thanks!"
"You are very welcome."
His smug words were carried by his confident grin as he proudly marched away from you and out of the room
The whole interaction was definitely weird, so you couldn't help but share it over lunch with your friends, Ace and Deuce
After you shared Malleus' small drying machine job, Ace started laughing at you, while Deuce put a hand on your shoulder, a sympathetic look on his face
『••✎••』
979 notes · View notes
snowy-vee · 3 months
Text
All Mine (2)
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oblivious loser bsf! ellie williams x posesive popular bsf!fem reader
n/a: I've spent my whole day squishing my head to finishing it today, and here it is! Also I won't be uploading the pt.2 of Academic Rivals, because I prefer to leave it as a One-Shot but I have in mind another, much better, plot with the trope Enemies to Lovers with Ellie. Read the final note!!
Pt. 1 Here Pt.3 Here
Inform yourself about what's happening and how to help! FREE PALESTINE, FREE CONGO.
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Ellie knocked on your door for the third time that morning. The first one was before her morning run, the second one was after that and the third was once she was done in the bathroom.
When she heard no answer, she went in and opened the curtains right away. “Get up, it’s the same every morning.”
You covered your face with the blankets to avoid the sun, saying, “Give me five more minutes,” but Ellie wouldn’t have it.
She got on the bed and shook you. “You have practice in an hour; I’m not letting you leave without breakfast, and then you’ll complain I didn’t wake you up,” she said. “Come on, get up.”
Sitting upright in bed, you let out a sigh, looked at the clock on the nightstand, and let out a moan. “Els, just give me five minutes.”
She shrugged and said, “Your call,” but before she could move, you grabbed her arm and drew her nearer to you.
“Lay down with me for those five minutes,” you requested, hugging her until you managed to lay her down beside you, even though she was fighting to break free. You didn’t want to let her go.
“Fine! Just five minutes, I’ll set the alarm, I have places to be,” she said, taking her phone out of her sweatpants pocket.
When she was done, you muttered, “Yeah, yeah, whatever, shut up,” and placed her phone on your bedside table. With a smile on your face, you raised the covers to allow Ellie to slide into them, encircling her waist with your arms and placing your head on her chest.
She was trying not to touch you with her free hand and you could hear how quickly her heart was beating, as if it was your first time sharing a bed. “You can give me a hug too,” you muttered.
With a clear throat, she said, “If that’s what you want.”
You appreciated that she was a little flustered, even if you couldn’t see her face. It was something you truly enjoyed doing to her.
She relaxed and soon fell asleep. Your plan was to sleep too, but you were thinking about where she had to go when her classes didn’t start until 2 p.m. You turned around slowly and grabbed her phone, unlocking it.
¡Ding!
The notification startled you for a moment, almost making you scream. You quickly checked if Ellie woke up because of the sound, but she was asleep.
“You have to be kidding me,” you whispered, reading the notification from the panel.
Dina (Campus) : I’ll see you in an hour then! I truly want to try those croissants you’ve been talking about, and I also wan…
Rolling your eyes was the least you could do. You shook your head, going to the alarm and deactivating it. Dina was a big girl; she could eat those croissants alone. You hoped she choked on them.
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
The sound of the TV, the microwave, and your humming was enough to wake her up. She yawned and stretched out, all calm until she saw how late it was.
“Fuck!” Ellie said getting up from the bed and grabbing her phone “No,no,no…”
You were scrolling on your phone, having breakfast, hearing how she was going side to side. From the bathroom to her bedroom and vice versa until she came to the kitchen.
“Why didn’t you woke me up? I told you I had places to be!” she walked past you to the entrance to put her white sneakers on.
“Good Morning to you too” you said sarcastically “I thought it was your classes where you had to go, it’s 1 p.m, you still have time”
Ellie shook her head “No, it was something else! What are you doing here, tho? Shouldn’t you be at practice?”
“I woke up like 30 minutes before you, so” you shrugged “You’re not going to drive me to campus today?”
“Uh…” She was roaming through her backpack making sure she had everything “I can’t today, sorry but here, call an Uber”
She left some money on the table beside your plate before stealing on of your toasts “Bye, see you later!”
“She is joking, right?” you thought picking up the money. “Seriously, Ellie?!”
You yelled from the balcony, seeing Ellie running to her car
“Sorry, no time!” She yelled back getting into her car with her mouth full of the toast.
The thing is, Ellie was in a hurry. She had arranged to meet up with Dina for breakfast before class at a café she had suggested herself, and on top of that, she had overslept.
She started the car and began to drive. When she reached a red traffic light, she took the opportunity to call Dina, who answered almost immediately as if she had been waiting for her. She sounded a bit annoyed; after all, she had been waiting for her for a long time. But she understood that Ellie had overslept. She suggested they meet at the entrance of the building where they had their only class together.
Obviously, Ellie agreed, but she couldn’t go empty-handed. So, as soon as she arrived on campus, she went to the cafeteria, ordered two coffees, and some cookies that Dina had mentioned she liked yesterday.
“Ellie, you didn’t need to buy breakfast,” the dark-haired girl said, trying to hide her big smile. She grabbed the bag and chuckled softly, looking at the cookies. “Wow, you sure know how to apologize.”
“Sorry, again, for standing you up. It wasn’t my intention.”
“It’s okay. Next time, I’ll come pick you up at your place.”
Next time? That meant Dina wanted to keep meeting up. Ellie nodded energetically. By the time class started, they had finished breakfast, talked about different things, sat together, and also had small conversations during class.
“That’s all for today. Remember, we start presentations in two weeks. Goodbye,” the professor said, collecting his briefcase and leaving the classroom.
“Well, on Tuesday, I’ll pick you up, and we’ll go to a café to finish it?”
“Yeah, sounds good,” Ellie said, gathering her things. “See you tonight at the party?”
“Yes, but aren’t you going to the parking lot?” Dina asked, watching as Ellie walked in the opposite direction.
“No, I have one more class, and then I’m meeting a friend.”
Dina nodded, waving goodbye. Ellie didn’t have another class, but she usually waited for her outside hers to go eat together. She had no idea why she had said that.
Your building wasn’t far from hers, so in less than 20 minutes, she arrived. She went up to the second floor and could see people coming out of your class, and finally you, but behind you was Abby Anderson. Ellie saw how she grabbed your arm and pulled you away from the others. It seemed like you were arguing about something until you pushed her aside and quickly walked to the stairs.
“Ellie? I didn’t think you were going to come pick me up today. Never mind, let’s go!” you said, intertwining your arms, almost dragging her to get out of there quickly. “I think they’re serving carbonara pasta in the dining hall today. You love pasta, right? How great that it’s on the menu today.”
Ellie nodded, frowning as she glanced at Abby once more before leaving. She would ask you about it later…
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
“I don’t like it, I’ll just wear something else,” Ellie said, entering your room for the third time with a different outfit than before. You rolled your eyes at her. “Ellie, I’m going to hit you if you don’t decide,” you said, watching her with frustration as she seemed unable to choose her clothes for the party. “Who do you want to look so good for?”
“No one. Could you help me instead of judging?” she replied, tossing the shirt she was taking off towards you. You dodged it, laughing, before throwing it back at her.
“Cargo pants and a black top, good combo, simple and it looks great on you,” you suggested. A few minutes later, she came back into your room wearing the suggested outfit. “See? I never fail,” you said with a grin.
“Fine,” she said, sitting on your bed as she watched you apply makeup. You were wearing a brown top tied at the top with a bow and a denim mini skirt. Ellie couldn’t help but admire your body, especially your legs, and you could see her doing so in the mirror. With a smile, you turned to her, and her gaze shot up to your face.
“Let me do your makeup,” you said.
“Why?” she narrowed her eyes and shook her head as she watched you approach with a playful smile. “Okay, but only the eyeliner.”
“Kay. Close your eyes,” you requested, opening the black eyeliner as you positioned yourself between her legs. “I’m going to sit on you.”
“Is that necessary?” Ellie asked, opening her eyes slightly, to which you nodded.
“I’m not comfortable, and if I’m not comfortable, it won’t turn out well,” you said, sitting on her and starting to apply the makeup. The only sounds in the room were your breaths and the low music from the speaker. “So… where did you have to go early this morning?”
“I had something important,” Ellie said, almost stuttering. She didn’t expect you to ask anything, but why wasn’t she telling you the truth? Why did she feel weird mentioning that she had plans with Dina?
“Ah, really?” you responded vaguely, clicking your tongue.
“Yeah… And what were you talking about with Abby?”
“Something important,” you shrugged. “There, it’s done, open your eyes.”
Ellie opened them, blinking a bit, smiling sideways. “Does it look good on me?”
You nodded, still on top of her. You grabbed her cheeks and squeezed gently, making her lips press together, and asked, making eye contact with her, “Is it for Dina that you’re getting all dressed up?”
“Maybe”
“Are you planning to kiss her tonight?”
“Maybe?” Ellie was confused about where these questions were coming from and at the same time thinking about how well you knew her. Perhaps she shouldn’t have ‘hidden’ her meeting with Dina from you in the morning…
“When was your last kiss? Like four years ago, right? Wow, you’re rusty,” you teased.
“Well, let’s not exaggerate,” she replied, her cheeks turning pink, not only from your grip that was tightening more and more but also from the image that crossed her mind of kissing Dina.
“Do you want to practice?”
“I mean… I don’t want her to think that I don’t know how to kiss. I know how to; I’ve kissed a lot of girls.”
“You only kissed two girls: me, for your first kiss and your ex-girlfriend, Cat. The little kisses at some parties while playing ‘spin the bottle’ don’t count.”
“Well, they should because I kissed plenty of girls,” Ellie mumbled.
“Decide before I change my mind or suit yourself,” you said, finally releasing her.
Ellie bit her cheek from the inside before nodding. “Okay, let’s practice.”
You did not wait to join your lips to hers, starting a slow kiss with a slow peace. Your arms were resting on her shoulders, bringing her closer to you, and your hands were starting to play with her hair. You wanted to explore Ellie’s mouth; you needed to feel her.
The kiss became deeper, and you buried yourselves more into each other’s mouths eagerly, feeling your lips closer as if there was a need that must be fulfilled. Soon Ellie’s tongue found yours, and they intertwined, making you moan in the midst of the kiss.
That made Ellie press her hands that were on your thighs; she had liked that sound a bit too much. Slowly she began to slide her hands upward until she touched the hem of your skirt, which was hiked up due to the position you were in.
Your breaths became more ragged as the rythm of the kiss quickened, and you wanted to continue, but no. If you didn’t stop, Ellie wouldn’t learn, she wouldn’t learn that only you could kiss her like that, you had to keep her yearning for more of you.
So you had to cut it off and watch as Ellie tried to reconnect your lips; it was so satisfying, you had to stop her gently, “Wow, Els, calm down, this is practice,” you said in a joking tone, getting off her, patting her knee to get her attention. She was still lying on the bed with an embarrassed expression on her face. “There’s a party we have to attend, come on.”
You grabbed your minibag and left your room to the front door, and Ellie did nothing but get up and follow you, not without first processing what had just happened a few seconds ago.
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
Ellie opened the passenger door once you arrived so that you could get out of the car.
She had to park a bit far from the house, but from there, you could hear the music and there were already drunk people in the street as you walked towards the entrance. You walked with your arms intertwined as you told Ellie the most recent gossip you had heard in the locker room or that you had been told, and Ellie listened, reacting when she could put faces to the names.
“He said that it was Sarah’s underwear, and Sarah denied it, saying that she was not ghetto and that she would never wear that. Imagine who snapped? April!”
“The church girl with brown hair?”
“Yeah, that one! It was so messy because the previous day she was preaching about how she was going to see the pearly gates since she was one of the last ‘pure’ girls on the team.”
“No way!”
“Yes, way! She’s so dumb, I hate her and more with the fa-”
“Hi, Ellie.”
Oh, you were going to kill this bitch. Dina was sitting on the porch of the house with a glass in her hand; she had probably been there for a short time. She looked at Ellie with a wide smile that decreased when she looked at you.
“I’ll see you inside,” you said, letting go of Ellie and passing by Dina without saying anything. Once inside, you joined your group of friends who were already quite drunk; they all greeted you, some with mini hugs or two kisses before giving you a glass full of rum and cola, more rum than cola. “You all know me better than I know myself.”
“Of course we do, silly, we love you.” You let yourself fall into the couch, tasting the drink, when your eyes diverted to see Ellie and Dina finally entering the party, giggling and whispering in each other’s ears because of how loud the music was.
“I love you too, April!” You smiled in her direction, drank all the liquid in your cup in one go, and handed it to her. “Be a doll and refill this.”
April looked at the rest of the girls and then at you, grabbing it. “Slow down, we don’t want you to repeat the Anderson accident again.”
The ginger girl beside April pushed her slightly, looking at you with her eyes wide open and laughing awkwardly. “She doesn’t mean that.”
Your eye twitched looking at April go refill your drink; you were going to brush it off for now because you had better enemies to fight than her. You had a whole plan on how to snatch Ellie away from Dina, but it hadn’t been formulated clearly, and you didn’t like to act on impulse. Anyway, you were at a party, and you were going to enjoy it.
By the time it was 3 a.m., you were already dancing on the table and shouting the lyrics of the songs you knew, swaying your hips against whoever. You stepped aside for a moment, saying that you were going for another drink, jumping off the table almost falling to the floor, but you could only laugh; everything was funny to you at that moment, and you wasn’t even that drunk! You had high tolerance, only your tongue was kind of asleep and you were stumbling from time to time but you loved to play silly and pretend to be more gone then you really were.
You reached the kitchen, looking for a new glass in the cabinets because you had no idea where you had thrown yours, when you found one, you began to decide what liquor to drink with eeny, meeny, miny, moe, before someone took away the glass and took you somewhere no matter how much you protested. The other person had a strong grip, and no matter how vaguely you were saying to let you go, they didn’t.
“I can’t believe you have me added as Dina (Campus), how lame, I’m going to change it,” Dina said, changing her contact name, but Ellie, who had seen the situation, was not paying attention.
“As you wish,” Ellie murmured, watching you disappear to the second floor; that didn’t sit well with her.
“Done!” Dina smiled, returning the phone to its owner, but Ellie’s gaze seemed worried. “What’s wrong?”
“Wait for me here, yeah? I’ll be back,” Ellie said, grabbing her phone and following where she last saw you.
She went upstairs dodging some drunk people and the long wait line to enter the bathroom, trying to see if you were in any of them, walking in the hallway close to the door to see if she could hear your voice in any of them until one door abruptly opened and you came out of it with teary eyes but laughing. (What happened in the room?)
“Are you okay?” She asked. Hearing her voice surprised you.
“How long have you been there?” Depending on her answer, you had two reactions.
“I just got here, I was searching for you.”
There it was! The cherry on top of your plan. You hugged Ellie and started slowly sobbing, whispering in her ear, “I want to go home now, please…”
“Hey, what happened? what’s wrong?” Ellie asked, breaking the hug to look at you and wipe your tears with her thumbs. “Let’s go.”
She held your hand and walked to the stairs, turning her head for a moment to look at you once more, and her eyes saw the other person who was in the room with you. Abby Anderson.
Had she made you cry? She was lucky that Ellie was more concerned about getting you out of the party than beating her up.
“Wait, Ellie, my bag is in the living room with the team,” you said before she went outside.
“Oh, okay, wait here, I’ll get it for you then.” You nodded and waited until you couldn’t see her to fucking smile because of your victory.
“Hey,” a touch on your shoulder made you come out of your little mental dance, “Have you seen Ellie? She went somewhere around 15 minutes ago, and I can’t find her.”
Of course it was Dina…
“She doesn’t feel well, must be something she ate before.”
“You sure? Should I take her to the hospital?”
“No worries, we are going now, but here, money for an Uber,” you said, taking some money out of your pocket.
The same money Ellie gave you this morning. You were giving it to her, and for you, it felt so good as you patted her shoulder and sighed with a little smirk.
Dina thought you were calling her poor and mumbled a “fuck you” before dropping the money on the floor and leaving you there just in time for Ellie to come back with your bag.
“Sorry, there were a lot of people in the way,” she handed the bag to you, “Whose money is that?”
“Yours,” you grabbed the bag and started walking out. Ellie frowned, confused, but still picked up the money; it was free money, and everybody was too drunk to miss some dollars. She felt as if she was forgetting to do something before leaving. “Els!”
“Coming!” Whatever, maybe tomorrow she’ll remember; now she had to assist her best friend and be there for her as she always did… like a loyal puppy, a cute and precious one of your property.
Note: I will upload Pt.3 once this chapter and the first one reach 250 so I have time to write and to know that you all like it and want more ty♡♡
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reiderwriter · 5 months
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Unhappy Holidays
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary: You're unlucky enough to run into Spencer Reid at holiday celebrations four years in a row. In the New Year, you're resolving to rid him from your mind forever, but you never were one to stick to resolutions 👻🦃🎄🎆
Warnings: SMUT 18+ minors dni, enemies to lovers, low-key work rivals, semi-public sex, car sex, hate sex, fingering, thigh riding, creampie, unprotected sex (no condoms but contraceptive mentioned), slight spoilers for s4 of Criminal Minds (but not really).
Prompt Request: #50"You're so fucking obsessed with me.” #82"Really? Because your pussy is saying something different, sweetheart.” #93"Use my thigh. You've been staring at it all night anyway.”
A/N: This is my first submission for @imagining-in-the-margins November/December Office Party writing challenge! I'm sorry I've been so busy recently, but the holiday season really does take a lot of effort to get through at work lmao. Hopefully, I'll be able to post more over my vacation! For now, enjoy some very unserious smut~♡ (as if I write any other kind).
Here's a link to my masterlist, where you can find all my work!~☆
Working with the FBI was no walk in the park, which, from your desk at the opposite corner of the bullpen, Spencer Reid sure made it look like.
Working on adjacent teams for the last three years had become gradually infuriating. You were forever in the man's orbit, stuck dealing with the other women on your team sat giggling about him and his many stupid haircuts, and wondering just how far you'd fallen to have to stare at his stupid face 5 days a week.
If you were unlucky. His team did happen to be out on cases a lot more, whereas yours handled correspondence and consulting cases, a cushy and safe job.
It annoyed you to no end that you had multiple field-based qualifications, extensive fire arms training and were top of your class at the academy only to be relegated yo desk duty whilst boy wonder with his doctorates was allowed to trip over his own feet catching actual killers.
Other people wondered where your dislike of the man sprang from, and you could only let out a disgruntled squeak and tell them your horror stories.
A few months into your job, your been fresh faced and bushy tailed or however that saying goes, and overly eager to take any assignment that came your way. Even if the assignment was baby-sitting an injured Doctor Spencer Reid. He'd been shot whilst out on a case whilst trying to talk down an unsub, and you'd jumped at the chance to get to know him.
He was an office legend, of course, though those days it was more for his characteristic lack of social graces rather than the beauty he'd grown into. You'd been so eager to get to pick his brains, find out how he'd managed to score the position on the BAU at such an early age.
Reality had hit you square in the face when he'd spent a week ignoring you, making you run around like a headless chicken searching for hard copies of documents the FBI had digitised a millennia ago, and hadn't so much as spared you a glance.
The straw that broke the camel's back came as you were running back to him triumphant with a document he'd requested eight hours before and had let yourself into Penelope Garcia’s office quietly, only to hear him bad mouthing you.
“She makes me uncomfortable. I've had her out searching for useless files all day because I don't know what to do with her.”
“She's trying to help, Spencer, it's her job right now, cut her some slack.”
“Her job is currently getting in the way of mine. I even tried writing my own doctor's note so I could get rid of her, but Hotch wouldn't allow it.”
You'd dropped the file loudly on the table, watched the two spin around with horrified looks and turned silently and left the room.
He hadn't once tried to find you after that, and you let your apprenticeship under Doctor Reid quietly fizzle out as you got back to your regular work.
Your resentment still burned though.
Each time you'd been caught in the same elevator with him, you'd ignored him to an almost insane degree, enjoying the way he squirmed and tried to make small talk.
You'd been in contact with JJ and his Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner as well, through cases you'd recommended, but always maintained your cold shoulder.
The one place you could not ignore him, however, was a Penelope Garcia party.
After you'd slammed the file down on her desk, Penelope had guiltily sent you a gift basket filled with sweet treats and books, and had hounded you for a week to make sure your feelings weren't too damaged by her friend's stupidity.
You actually liked her, and found at least one silver lining to the storm that was Spencer Reid ripping through your life.
In the three years since the “incident,” you'd found yourself at three parties where Penelope in all of her heartwarming ways had tried her best to force a reconciliation between the two of you, to disastrous results.
The first was a Halloween party, and you'd been incredibly proud of your Princess Laia costume when you'd arrived. Only until you'd gone to the kitchen to top up your drink to hear Spencer Reid boring some guest or the other about how Star Trek was more advanced, and had a richer plot line.
Penelope had stepped into the kitchen just as he'd caught a glimpse of your (rather skimpy) outfit - yes, you'd chosen swimsuit Laia, yes, you were going to own it - and had immediately jumped into introductions, as if you weren't already intimately acquainted.
“Spencer! This is Y/N! She loves Halloween, too, she makes all of her costumes. You guys should talk.” She'd led the other guest away and left you there with Spencer as you'd awkwardly looked upon his own costume.
“Are you the Tenth Doctor?” You asked begrudgingly, noting his pin-striped suit and the shorter hairstyle he'd chosen.
“Are you a fan? I prefer the original show run more than the current stuff, but David Tennant has really been doing a wonderful-”
“I'm sorry, let me stop you there. I don't watch Doctor Who. I guess I prefer something with a… How should I say, richer plot?”
He'd snapped his mouth shut and didn't have chance to open it again before you turned dramatically and walked away from him.
The second party you'd been cornered into was just over a year later.
Having been stuck in the office over Halloween, Penelope was determined to get in one last celebration before Christmas steam-rolled every other holiday, and thus you'd been invited to her single-people-only-friendsgiving-potluck, and you'd found yourself having to navigate knocking on her door with a casserole dish in your hands.
Luckily a large hand had appeared from behind you and knocked on the door for you. Unfortunately, the sudden shock from the silent appearance of a man right behind you startled you so much that the dish fell straight from your hands anyway.
Penelope opened her door upon hearing the crash and you whirled on your would-be attacker.
It was Spencer again, eyes round in shock, hand still curled into a fist.
You took a calming breath as you gathered yourself, trying not to bite his head off. You wanted to scream and shout and rip his head out but you didn't, instead letting the fury drip into your voice as you finally opened your eyes again.
“That dish took me four fucking hours to make.” You huffed in anger once more as Penelope guided you into the apartment and poured you a glass of wine before you moved back to the entry hall to clean it up again.
Needless to say he didn't care to converse with you after that.
A few small parties in between had been blissfully Spencer-less and you'd lulled yourself into a false sense of security. That's when you accepted the Christmas party invitation.
As one of the unlucky few members of the FBI who had to stay out over christmas in case of some emergency or the other, you'd been grounded in Virginia, unable to travel home for the holidays. So Penelope Garcia's singles-only-Christmas-fun-time-Party was your last ditch effort to spend the holidays actually resting and eating good food.
Learning from last time, Penelope reassured you that there was no potluck, that she had prepared all the food herself, and all you'd need were a bottle of wine and a willingness to party.
You'd taken those recommendations as law and had immediately let yourself into a glass of mulled wine as you arrived, and - noticing that the party was Reid-free - had allowed it to raise your Christmas spirits slightly more than you usually would.
By hour two of the event, you were full of yuletide joy and swaying freely along to the tune of Silent Night.
Spencer’s late entrance really would have gone unnoticed by you had you not bumped face first into his chest as you spun yourself around in your dance, his hands quickly falling to your hips to steady you.
The few moments it took you to gather yourself were about as long as you needed to realised that he'd caught you in his arms underneath the mistletoe. And with your mind fogged by mulled-whatever-it-was-Penelope-mixed-into-that-punch, the part of your brain that objected to the very existence of Spencer Reid went silent, and the incredibly tiny and somewhat damaged part of your brain that instead saw him as attractive started shouting loud instructions.
Before your common sense could return, you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes to kiss the very warm, very close man holding you upright.
“Mistletoe,” you muttered as you clawed his arms off of you and took yourself straight to Penelope's bathroom to throw up.
So yes, your acquaintance with Spencer Reid had never been good, and you were perfectly fine with resenting him from afar, privately.
With three years of bad experiences under your belt, you weren't excited at completing your yearly tradition of horrendous interaction. Which is perhaps why you immediately and loudly protested Penelope’s New Years Eve party invitation.
“Y/N, it's a party. What's the worst that can happen?” She pleaded as she followed you down the corridors of the office building.
“I could see Spencer Reid. I could be forced to converse with Spencer Reid. I could get absolutely wasted and kiss Spencer Reid. There, three options, please accept my resignation from partying.”
“Y/N we both know you don't drink anymore, so at least one of those is unlikely to happen. And Spencer might not even come, he has tickets for an indie theatre from 6pm onwards, they're playing some Russian movie from the 60s that's like 4 hours long or something. So u retire yourself and tell me you'll come?” She had to take three or four steps for each of your own, not that you were so different in height but because you were practically marching in order to avoid the topic.
But you finally stopped and let out a sigh as you turned back to Penelope who stopped just before she ran into you.
“You're sure he won't be there?”
“I'm sure he RSVP’d no.”
“Fine. But I'm not drinking and I will still be expecting the Penelope Garcia virgin punch experience.”
“Bring the party poppers and you have a deal.”
“Done.”
–X–
Over the week since you'd accepted the invitation, you'd made peace with it. For the most part, you did love a Penelope Garcia production. There was something wonderful about your friend and her ability to brighten anyone's mood, an ability that was only heightened at holidays. She was like a glittered goddess gaining power when worshippers used her altar, except the altar was her house and the worship was a range of hallmark-induced holidays.
You arrived at the party at 10pm, and though that was the start time you'd been given, you weren't surprised to see a full house of Penelope’s team mates already in attendance. Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau and Emily Prentiss sat spread across the sofa in the living room area, and you noticed a few techie friends also grabbing drinks and chatting.
“Y/N, I'm so glad you're here! You remember everyone on the team, right?” She pulled you into a hug and then sat you down in the middle of the group, waiting for you to mingle and become comfortable before she ran off to more hostess duties.
“Of course, nice to see you guys.” You grabbed your promised punch and sat back comfortably, striking up a conversation with Emily about how bleak the dating scene had been recently.
“It seems like all the men around me are jackasses,” Emily muttered and you giggled along.
“I'm wounded,” Morgan shot back, a hand pressed to his chest in faux pain.
“Good. You're like a lion out there in the clubs stalking gazelles, it's like watching a nature documentary when you're out there.”
You almost snorted your entire drink up your nose as Emily finished, needing to compose yourself for a second.
“I guess the men on our team aren't great with romance,” JJ laughed and took a swing. “Hotch and Rossi have four divorces between them, and Derek here is a lost cause.”
“Our only hope is young Spencer. May he grow into a respectful young gentleman and break out curse,” Emily toasted.
“Oh that ship has sailed,” your laugh this time was bitter, your mood immediately growing sour with even the smallest mention of Spencer Reid.
“Ah, Penelope mentioned you had a problem with our boy wonder. Care to share?”
You opened your mouth to give your standard non-answer and move the conversation along, but you were interrupted.
“Yes, Y/N, care to share? I am slightly curious about that as well.” You turned around and there he was, and your stomach turned in disgust.
Just one time, just one party. You'd been having fun, and here he was to ruin it.
“What are you doing here?” you gaped up at him, unsurprised to see him still decked out in sweater vest and slacks even in his down time.
“I was invited.”
“You declined, Penelope said you had movie tickets.”
“Ticket, singular. And it was cancelled so here I am. What's your problem with me, Y/N?” His jaw clenched and he grabbed the back of your chair and leaned down. It was supposed to be intimidating, but you rolled your eyes. When he looked that attractive, veins in his arms popping out of the sleeves he'd pulled up, you couldn't see him as intimidating. His arms were distracting yes, but God that was nothing compared to his thighs. His pants were tight, and you thanked whatever Clueless tailor had sewn them, because you now allowed yourself a momentary lapse to enjoy the appearance of his lower body.
You tried to shake the thought of his attractiveness from your mind, reminding yourself where you were and in what company.
“I don't think I need to answer that. I think I'll enjoy holding it over your head instead,” you said, standing up and beginning to gather your things.
“Wait, Y/N, where are you going? New Year isn't for another 30 minutes.” Penelope scrambled over and grabbed your hand, pleading with you to stay.
“I'm sorry Pen, but there's just this very annoying bug buzzing around me, and I think I need to get away from it.” You said your goodbyes and excused yourself from the party, happy to have walked away relatively undamaged.
Fate had other plans, and as you stepped out of the apartment building ready to walk yourself home, a hand caught yours from behind as a voice chased you.
“Y/N, wait. I'll go. You go back inside.”
“And return with my tail tucked between my legs after making a grand exit? I'll pass, thanks boy genius.” You shook yourself from his grasp and made to walk away again, but he quickly matched your pace and stepped into your path, cutting you off.
“I can't let you walk home. It's like 40° out here, and your coat is more style than substance.”
“Get into a car with a stranger? I'm sure you of all people know how stupid that sounds.” You stuck a finger out and poked his chest, but he grabbed your hand and held it in place as he spat out his next words.
“I'm not a stranger, I'm the man you're obsessed with, Y/N. Big difference.” You laughed, mostly in shock at his indignance, but he stared at your face as serious as could be.
“Me? Obsessed with you? I'm not the one who followed a woman they're barely acquainted with out of a party filled with all of my friends. Sounds like you're projecting, Spencer.”
“Am I?” He questioned, stepping closer and grabbing your hip as he continued his questioning. “I wasn't the one who was sat there talking about me with all of my colleagues.”
“Well, I wasn't the one who turned up to a party I'd declined an invitation to.”
He was imperceptibly close now, hand gripping your hip so tight you wondered if it'd leave you with a mark.
“I certainly was not the one who initiated a kiss last year, Y/N. You need to face the facts, you're so fucking obsessed with me.” If his hands had you feeling dizzy, his words were completely knocking the sense out of you. Suddenly you returned to the person you'd been under that Mistletoe, and everything from his closeness to the rough edge to his voice begged you to do it once again.
“Go fuck yourself,” was about all the words you could manage as he finally let his lips fall down and crush into your own.
You should've pushed him away, but instead your traitorous body wanted to prove his point, opening up for him faster than you'd opened up to anyone else before.
His tongue flicked against your lips and you gladly let him explore your mouth, opening up to tangle your tongue with his.
He tasted sweet, like the punch Penelope had handed you earlier, only now you wondered if someone had accidentally laced it with how free you were being with your affections.
He resurfaced for air, but you didn't care if there was nothing in your lungs at all if it meant that his lips would engage your own in battle once again.
“Look how much you want me,” he smirked. “Look how needy you are after a single kiss, chasing my lips like that.”
“You and your big fucking mouth. I wish you'd shut up once in a while.”
“I'll make it my new year’s resolution.” His lips joined your own again, and you clashed hard, exploring as much as you could muster as he pulled you in the direction of his car.
“I'm not driving… home… with you,” you growled between kisses, trying not to put your teeth to his neck and bite down hard. You're not sure if that impulse was a murderous one or a kinky one.
“I'm not putting you in the front seat, Y/N, I'm putting you in the back. You should be familiar with the idea.”
Heat sparked between your legs, and you allowed yourself to be manhandled into the beat-up trash heap of a car.
He'd not taken his hands off you as he got you in, pushing himself in first and then pulling you by the hand that you'd unconsciously gripped hard. You immediately straddled his hips, skirt naturally riding up in the process. He noticed and looked curiously down at you, growling as you pressed your lips against his neck and grabbed you instead by the hair gathered in a ponytail at the back of your head.
“See, you're obsessed with me. Just admit it.” Without breaking eye contact, he dug his fingers into the material of your tights and pulled in opposite directions, leaving your underwear exposed to his wandering eyes.
“I'm not obsessed with you,” your voice needed conviction to land, but it came out as a lusty whisper, especially as he slipped his fingers inside your underwear and finally touched your aching cunt.
“Really? Because your pussy is saying something else, Princess.” He found your clit faster than you'd ever expected, rubbing slow circles into your skin as you began rocking your hips back and forth.
It was becoming hard to disagree with him, with each flick of wrist growing the heat between your legs. You attacked his neck again, hands practically ripping at his top buttons so you could muffle the sounds of your arousal against his neck, collarbone, chest, any stretch of that pale skin available to you.
He forced your hips to a stop with one hand as he slipped a single digit inside of your hole, gathering your arousal as he set a steady pace, thumb keeping your bundle of nerves occupied.
“Listen, Y/N, can you hear that?”
“I can't h-hear anything.” You had to grind your teeth together to get the words out with minimal interruptions of moans bursting from the pit of your stomach.
He leaned in close to your ear, nuzzling your neck and placing chaste kisses up towards your ear, finally pulling away just enough to whisper a single word in your ear.
“Liar.”
His hand stilled and pulled off you quickly and your eyes broke open, hands unconsciously fitting into his shirt as if you were worried he was going to leave you there like this, on the edge of pleasure but still so far away.
“Use my thigh. You've been staring at it all night anyway.”
“Jackass. You've only been here for like 20 minutes.”
“You can climb right out of this car if you want to, Y/N.” He tried to keep his tone light, but the death grip he had on your thighs, the very obvious tent pitched in his pants and the way his eyes couldn't go five seconds without undressing you told you you had more power in this interaction than he wanted to give you.
There was no way either of you were letting the other go unused tonight.
You relaxed your grip on his shirt and shifted your weight to one of his thighs. Lithe he may be, but lowering yourself down there was an unexpected strength there. He watched on curiously as you rocked experimentally against him. Back and forth you rocked, trying desperately to keep up his momentum or tempt him to help you out again.
It was time to let your voice back out, and you did, moaning without a care as you hummed his leg like a bitch in heat.
“You're enjoying this lot, huh, Y/N,” he muttered, and you watched as his hand worked his pants zip open, removing one of the barriers in the way between the two of you, as he began palming himself.
“What's that saying? Anything you can do, I can do better?” He growled at that response but didn't stop you. Instead he bought a hand down on your ass as you moved, so hard you jolted at the sudden pain. Your eyes shot open as your hips stilled, but you felt warmth grow between your legs.
“Yes, you definitely enjoyed that. Should I do that again, or do you think we should hurry this up and go back up for the countdown?”
You hesitated only a second before you pushed his hand off his lap, shifting your hips further towards his knees before letting your hand reach for where his had just been.
You didn't let yourself think about how big he was as you pulled his cock free, didn't let yourself wonder how he measured up against anyone you'd been with before. You didn't let yourself waste time thinking about how various office rumours were true, and definitely not a second was wasted feeling jealous about how those rumours were spread in the first place.
Instead you simply slammed your lips back against his, mouth opening to let your tongue engage his as you lifted your hips with his help and lowered yourself down on him.
You didn't have to rid yourself of sinful thoughts after that as he purged every single brain cell from your head, filling you so contently that there was simply no space for anything but him.
You locked up on top of him, clawing at his shoulders as you whimpered at the stretched, falling so he was balls deep inside you. You wanted to move, to use him for your pleasure, but your walls tightened every time you even thought about it as he stroked your hair through it all.
It had been some time since you'd last had a sexual partner, and you needed the few minutes to overcome the first uncomfortable bliss of it all.
“That good?” he whispered, but the harsh tone of earlier was gone, replaced only by unsure humour to break the silence.
“Been a while.” He nodded, kissing you again to distraction as he shifted your positions.
Cradling your neck and securing your legs comfortably around him, he lowered you against the backseat, pulling out slightly as you adjusted to the new angle.
“Better?” You nodded quickly, because it was. There was no more pressure on your legs, and despite the cramped space in the car, you had enough space to lie almost flat.
“Yes… thank you.” Just as his cutting tone had escaped him, you also heard your own tone softening, the sigh of contentment slipping past your lips almost sweet. Almost.
“Are you going to fuck me now, or what?”
He let out a shocked laugh, but lent down to shut you up with a kiss nonetheless. Bracing himself against the car door, his hips softly rocked into you, pace increasing until you were back to the edge of cumming, nails pressed hard into his skin until you were sure he was going to complain.
He didn't though, but kept up his thrusts, until your vision suddenly darkened and stars exploded in them, rolled back in your head as they were.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit, where should I…?” He panicked, but you wrapped your legs around him, grabbing him by the tie and pulling him down to swallow his moan as he shot his load inside of you.
“Birth control.” You whispered when you finally let him go, gasping for air. “Contraceptive pill. No need to get the car dirty.”
He collapsed on top of you then, forehead resting against your own as you both caught your breaths.
The moment was silent, and you found the synchronicity of your breaths almost calming. Eventually you had to break apart, and he helped you up to a sitting position, but didn't break eye contact as fell back into his lap.
His hands stroked your back, dipping to your ass at times, but he didn't talk. Neither of you did.
The eye contact between the two of you was possibly the most pleasant conversation you'd ever had.
“I'm sorry.” He blurted, just as fireworks erupted into the night sky. Your heart shook, and you weren't sure of it was the shock of the sound, or the way the rainbow of lights illuminated his sincere expression.
“You don't have to apologise for cumming in me, Spencer.”
“Not that. Before. The casserole and the mistletoe, and the Halloween costume.”
“Wow. Um, okay. Apology accepted, I guess, though I'm not entirely sure why you're apologising now.”
He took a deep breath just as another set of fireworks went up.
“I pulled you under the mistletoe. It was Penelope’s idea, she knew how stupid I was being around you and sent me over. I saw it and took the chance.”
“Fuck. Why?”
“Because I was pretty useless at being chivalrous the year before.”
You climbed off his lap in a scramble and sat on the seat beside him, mind racing, trying to figure out where the hell he was going with this.
He turned to you, trying to keep your attention as he stumbled over the words.
“You couldn't knock on the door, so I wanted to help you, but I didn't think I'd scare you so much you'd drop it.”
“You didn't scare me it was a momentary lapse in my observational skills.”
“You shrieked,” a smile threatened to pull his lips up, they twitched as you flushed red.
“And Halloween?” You looked at him again now, trying to figure out what the hell was going on between the two of you.
“You refused to look at me for a year after we stopped working together,” he shrugged quickly running a hand through his hair and expelling a breath. “I don’t really know how to talk to women.”
“You just know how to piss them off?”
“Morgan says it comes naturally.”
“Yeah, well, Morgan is very wise.”
A brief silence stretched between you, or as silent as a night full of cracks, pops, whizzes and bangs could be.
“I don't get it. You tried your best to get rid of me when I was there to help you. I wanted to impress you, and you kept sending me on meaningless errands, and now you're saying what? You wanted my attention?” There was a quiet anger to your voice, but you were surprised to find it diminished and tired.
“I wanted you gone because you were distracting me, Y/N, not because I hated you.”
“Well, what's the difference, Doctor Reid? Please indulge me.” You huffed a little but kept your eyes on him, trying not to seem too desperate for his answer.
“I have an IQ of 187. Emily says when I'm around a pretty girl it's more like 52,” he fidgeted with his pants, forcing the words out.
“You're a pretty girl. We had a case to work and all I could think about was how to get you to like me. Hotch chewed me out like three separate times for being absent minded.”
He was looking anywhere but you, trying his best not to appear like a fool but you were locked onto him.
“Oh my god you're an idiot.”
“When you're around, yes.”
“And that means I'm equally stupid.”
“No, you just jump to conclusions and hold grudges. There wasn't anything really that stupid about your actions, though it could be suggested that not thoroughly thinking through the wording of the conversation you overheard-”
You cut him off with a kiss, pulling him down again mlby his tie.
“Oh my god, shut up,” you whispered as you broke apart.
“Does that mean we can do this again? Because I'd like to do this again?”
“Stop talking, start kissing jackass.”
He finally didn't argue with that, pulling you back into him as you sat under the stars in his car welcoming the new year.
1K notes · View notes
prettyinsophie · 6 months
Text
burning desire
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Synopsis: With Abby away at some party and your body aching and asking for release, you can’t help but touch yourself while pretending it’s your roommate.
warnings: top abby x virgin (lowkey loser) reader, fingering (r receiving), mentions of strap, squirting, r gets caught by abby, sex toys.
2.9k words
a/n: i’m going to pretend this isn’t way too specific. it’s my first time posting here so im sorry in advance if there are any mistakes, english is not my first language and i wrote this in a rush bc im going insane😇
ofelia si te sale esto no lo leas‼️
There was something utterly wrong with you.
As a girl, you went through your awful womanhood cycle and all that. You never entirely understood how all of it worked, you just ovulated when you were extremely horny and wanted to either kill yourself or everyone around you when on your period. That much you knew about your own body and every other girl went through the same.
The problem was you’ve been on fucking heat for over a month.
Your hormones were a mess, the sexual frustration consumed your being and you couldn’t find a solution. You were a virgin, and quite frankly, an awkward person so it was hard for you to even initiate small talk without quickly making it uncomfortable with your lack of social skills.
You tried distracting yourself throughout the day by attending your classes, doing homework, scrolling through Tiktok, and exercising. Even if you ended up beat by the end of the day, that damn aching between your legs would not leave you alone, and you had to touch yourself to at least make it less awful.
Unfortunately, you didn’t live alone. You shared an apartment with Abby, your high school friend who so happened to get into the same college as you. You didn’t mind, of course, you liked Abby, and now that she was grown and muscular you couldn’t deny she was a total eye-snack. Thing was, you were jealous of whoever the fuck she brought to your shared apartment, Abby must be some sort of goddess if she could make girls scream like that, begging her not to stop while choking in their tears, the bed loudly creaking to the point the blonde had to buy a new mattress. You resented it. You had to settle with sex toys while she fucked almost every week.
The amount of batteries you had in your drawer was embarrassing. Every night you had to abuse your pussy while thinking it was a certain girl doing it for you, had to get good at being silent because you’d throw yourself off the window if Abby ever heard you. Your clit ended red and puffy after an hour of nonstop intimate time with yourself, your eyes swollen because the scenarios in your head were so intense you cried while thrusting a six-inch vibrator inside you, touching that sweet spot it took some time for you to master hitting perfectly until your head went numb, and you squirted all over the pink towel you covered the bed with so you wouldn’t wet the pretty covers and sheets you slept in.
You were ashamed of how filthy your fantasies were for a twenty-year-old virgin, it always hit you once you were over, panting heavily in silence while blushing because your private thoughts and desires bugged you.
You hoped it’d all end soon, that maybe your hormones were a bit crazy just because they decided so be in a silly mood. Every girl goes through shit like this. But no. God was testing you, progressively getting needier as the days passed by. Your god-awful gorgeous friend/roommate worsened it whenever you were doing your assignments at the dining table, and she came home from the gym looking so dirty and delicious, your eyes struggling to focus on your laptop screen and not the way her muscles glistened with not-fully-dried sweat and looked like the glazed donuts you loved eating as a sweet treat, the comparison didn’t make sense, but her body made you feel hungry. You were so sexually frustrated you were convinced you had gone insane.
You wished someone would approach and straight up told you to fuck. You’d accept without second thoughts. But it was the real world, as pretty as you were, you still looked awkward and shy. Fuck your life, honestly. Why couldn’t you be dauntless like the girls who flirted with Abby? Touching her biceps while twirling their hair as they looked at her with nothing but lust and confidence. They were embarrassedly bold but they got exactly what they wanted because Abby was a sucker for pretty girls like that, she loved to fuck the cockiness out of them.
You couldn’t help but think about it every day. You were pathetic, imagining how it would feel to be under her, talking you through it, making you lie there and do nothing but take her until your legs turned into jelly and make you forget all about your stupid sex toy collection hidden in a box under your bed.
Anyways.
Tonight was going to be fun. Abby told you a friend of hers would be throwing a party, subtly inviting you, but you didn’t take the hint and told her to have fun, so off she went an hour ago, leaving you alone in your shared apartment.
Eagerly and with your heart thudding, you arranged everything before jumping right into it, at this point it was just as important in your nocturnal ritual as your skincare routine. You had bought a new toy, this one being 7.4 inches and a bit thicker than your other ones, so you were a bit excited to try it, hoping the sensation would help you release more of your frustration.
With a silky pillow under your lower back, you lied in your bed and took a deep breath, your fingers slowly rubbing your clit, making you gasp softly at the familiar but delicious feeling. Your muscles quickly relaxed as you kept circling your needy button. You didn’t need much teasing, you were already wet, arousal sneaking down and making you groan because it was icky.
Lately, you didn’t rely on your hand that much, ever since you figured out the way to hit your G spot, that’s almost all you needed to come. That being said, you took the pink toy in your hand, lining it down your entrance and teasing yourself by lubing the tip of it with your arousal, imagining it was Abby’s strap and spreading your legs. You had to be quiet every time you masturbated, but you were completely alone now and you wanted to treat yourself by taking the liberty to be as loud as you felt like. Pants and whines of desperation filled your room once you started taking inch by inch of the toy slowly. There were nights you straight up wanted to release everything and go to sleep, or nights such as this, where you felt like dragging your orgasm to make it intense and mind-breaking.
“Holy shit.” You whined once the vibrator was deep inside, you closed your eyes and played start to your fake scenarios.
In your wild fantasies, Abby would tease you, keeping her strap in place while circling your clit and making you wait for her to move. So you did that. Little whimpers left your lips while imagining her talking in your ear, whispering sweet encouraging words. You could multitask with no problem at this point, it was routine. You turned on the vibrator, hips jerking at the feeling and your lips hung as you gasped. Thrusting it slowly the fantasies grew steamier, and your cheeks flushed at the sound of your voice doing all those pathetic and pornographic sounds.
It was big. When you bought it you were so cocky about it but you were actually struggling to slide it in and out smoothly, but thankfully you were so wet it only took a few minutes. And so the madness began. In your head, Abby was fucking you with her strap, your hand moving fast and aiming for your sweet spot like your life depended on it.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You whimpered out loud, the buzzing toy hitting the right place inside of you while you kept rubbing your clit clumsily because it felt so good.
You wanted her. Pitiful whines getting caught in your throat when you remembered Abby was far from your apartment, far from your room, and definitely far from your bed. She was probably messing around with another girl at that party. You winced at the thought, feeling like crying as you kept abusing your pussy. Imaginary Abby would slap you and grab your chin so you’d look at her, telling you to stop drifting away from her when she’s right there with you, to not listen to those silly thoughts of yours.
Your therapist would never hear of this.
“Oh my god, Abby! Please, please, please-” You were okay with being loud at this point, whatever you usually blabbered under your breath now resonating on the walls of your room.
Sometimes you wished you had four hands so you could add a little something to your intimate sessions. You wanted to know how it would feel to have her deep inside with her big and strong hand wrapped around your neck, preventing you from breathing properly while praising you. Shit. Your hand moved faster and rougher, seeking for the most realistic sensation possible. Wanting to pretend this was the real Abby pounding into you.
You needed her. Your eyes stung with tears as your chest heaved because the toy was now at the highest setting, hitting your sweet spot oh so deliciously you were even drooling.
With your eyes squinted shut your mind went fuzzy, the scenario pausing for a moment while focusing on the familiar twisting in your tummy and reaching for your orgasm. Abby was calling your name in the distance, you were so into it for a moment you felt worried about how real it went through your ears.
“Yes, yes, yes! Right there, Abby! Plea-se-!”
Your voice cracked. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you choked weak whimpers while squirting all over the towel, so intense even the toy almost flew out of your cunt. Your legs trembled and you panted loudly, riding out your fifth climax of the week. The cold air of your room hit your bare lower body and made you groan because your slick was drying up and you hated the feeling, but you also needed time to recover before cleaning your mess.
After a few moments, you sighed and opened your eyes, slightly leaning onto your side to grab your phone on the nightstand. You froze at the figure of someone standing by your door. Your stomach dropped and you could feel your heart in your throat.
Abby was there, standing with her arms crossed while looking at you with a stare you couldn’t decipher. No. This could not be happening to you. No!
“Abby-“ You sobbed, the shame betraying you by making you cry.
“How long?” She asked, her blue eyes staring into your soul even from a further distance. Her voice lower than how she usually talks to you.
“W-What?”
“How long have you wanted me to fuck you?”
The question sent a shiver down your spine. This was definitely not how you imagined it’d play out, not in one of your thousands of wet dreams.
“A while…” You mumbled embarrassed, looking away from her. Thankfully you were only naked from the hips down to your feet, you were wearing an oversized shirt that could cover your most private parts.
Abby seemed pleased with your answer. A heavy and shaky sigh left her nose as she walked to your bed.
“And you do this every night while thinking about me?”
The question (which sounded more like a statement) stabbed your core sharply. You nodded and felt your cheeks blushing in shame.
The bed creaked when she joined you in it, getting on top of you while smirking smugly. Your pretty face was adorned with confusion and embarrassment. Lips puffy from crying and your face dampened and red.
“Poor girl. Had to hear me pleasing other girls instead of you, hm? You should’ve just said so, baby.” She comforted you, brushing her fingers against your cheek, making you shiver at the unfamiliar contact.
“Didn’t want to mess with your innocence, you’re so pure I couldn’t dare break you. That’s why I used whoever wanted to throw themselves at me, but turns out that’s all you wanted all along? Wanted me to make you cry and beg?”
Holy fuck. You thought as you were getting wet again. You almost whimpered because this was the real thing. 4D Abby was on top of you and talking dirty with her husky and alluring voice.
“Yes.”
You hated yourself so much. Just a few moments ago you were so mouthy to her in your fantasy and you couldn’t even form a sentence with the real one. Abby laughed at you as if finding you amusing.
“‘Yes’ what, pretty girl?”
This was it. You were going to go for it.
“I-I want you to…fuck me and make me scream and beg for more.” You stuttered softly, looking into her eyes while batting your lashes because you couldn’t maintain eye contact.
“Yeah? I bet I can do a better job than your toys.” She leaned down, your faces closer than you ever thought they’d get, sucking the air out of your lungs.
You yelped in surprise when her fingers went down your folds, spreading the wetness as she teased your sensitive parts. “So wet, waiting for me to read your mind and touch you, huh? Gotta use your big girl words. C’mon, tell me what you want.”
Her voice melted your brain as her fingers spread your lips, making you gasp and squirm under her. You were too shy for your own good, she knew that as well but that made this more interesting. Abby wanted to see how far she could lead you, and how much control she could have on you.
“Please touch me.” Your voice was breathy and almost weak, feeling her fingers replacing your own was too much.
She circled your throbbing clit, causing you to close your eyes and whine loudly.
“You like that?”
“Y-Yes, so so much, Abby.” Your mouth was getting loose, drunk in pleasure and your head was still dizzy from your previous climax. Abby could feel herself getting wet from your reactions to minimal touch.
Poor little thing, so touch-starved. She thought while continuing to please you.
You mumbled curses and her name under your breath. Hands gripping the covers of your bed tightly because she was the one touching you, you had no control over the speed nor the pressure her fingers had on your sensitive bud. Your legs squirmed as you spread them further so she’d position herself more comfortably between them.
“Want you inside, n-need you inside!” You begged pathetically, looking at her with half-lidded eyes.
Abby couldn’t believe this. This was too good to be true and she couldn’t wait anymore either. She kept boundaries out of respect, she knew you were a virgin and had no experience, and she didn’t want to scare you off with her deprived desires. Yet you were there, asking her with tears in your eyes to fill you up. You were so desperate she wanted to eat you alive.
“‘M gonna use my fingers, doll. Don’t wanna fuck you with the same strap I use with other girls. I’m going to get you your own, and I’m going to fuck this horniness out of you. You’ll only need me.” She whispered in your ear before shoving two of her fingers inside you, gaining a loud whimper from you.
Her fingers were thick and long, she filled you up almost perfectly you didn’t want this moment to end. Your chest raised up and down as you struggled to breathe properly. She moved them in and out, curling them expertly inside your warm walls.
“Faster, please.”
Abby knew once you two were done tonight, every time she’d hear the word ‘please’ from you would be a trigger. She wanted to tease you, drag you to the edge, but she was aware of how frustrated you felt and it was pitiful. So she let you give her orders, just this once though.
She hit it. That magnificent spot of yours that sent you to the moon. You were a moaning mess, hairs sticking to your forehead with sweat while she kept thrusting her fingers forcefully.
“Fuck, Abby! There, holy fuck.” You blabbered, your back arching off the bed, and the pillow under you helped to reach your g spot smoothly. Abby was also panting, even groaning because you were giving her a show. The things she’d do to you from now on, whew, she was going to ruin you.
“So pretty, taking my fingers so well. Want you to come all over them, doll. You think you can do that for me?”
Nodding drastically up and down, she sped up if that was even possible. Your tummy swooped and you didn’t realize you had tears running down your cheeks. Abby’s face was blurry and your eyes struggled to focus. Your hand found her bicep, clawing it with your acrylic nails as you reached the delicious bliss.
“Shitshitshit!”
Moaning Abby’s name and profanities, you came on her fingers and probably her pants as well. You kept squirting while sobbing because you’ve never experienced an orgasm like this one, your legs shaking against your will. Now you were panting, catching your breath and when you opened your eyes and met with hers, reality hit you.
You opened your puffy lips to say something, but Abby cut you off.
“Next time it’ll be my cock.”
2K notes · View notes
love-that-we-were-in · 2 months
Text
lighting the fuse might result in a bang
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pairing: frat!luke castellan x reader summary: Silena thinks you need to start blowing off some steam. You think you just need a fresh victory and Luke Castellan is the perfect opponent. word count: 5.3k warnings: smoking, drinking, usual college party stuff.
author's note: brought to you by my personal deep dark history with boys in hats. also i haven't gotten drunk in like 4/5 years so i don't remember what it's like so this was interesting. also i don't know anything about frats OR smoking. have the most fun <3
When Silena mentions a party you could go to, you jump at the offer, brain fuzzing at the edges where you’ve been locked in on flashcards all afternoon. It’s something you’ve started to navigate better this year, remembering to have fun after a year of non-stop focus. Silena makes it easier - a social butterfly with no qualms about dragging you out of the library when she thinks you’re pushing yourself too hard - and there’s no harm in listening to her without protest sometimes. 
“Do you even know who’s throwing this one?” You ask as she’s leading you through campus, rubbing at your arms to fight the fall chill. “I do not want a repeat of March.” 
“Have some faith in me. I’ve started vetting my sources.” 
Both of you shiver, the memory of a night spent outside the Stolls’ cramped dorm still haunting you six months later. You’re not overly familiar with this side of campus, turning away from the usual halls and towards the sorority housing, but Silena walks the path with ease, arm looped through yours.
The walk seems to have cleared your head, the music as you approach shaking off the last of the static. You’ve been here before, borrowing notes from a teammate, but it’s different like this, all pumping bass and cheers from the kitchen. Clarisse waves at you from across the room, beer in hand, and you mutter to Silena that you’re going to grab a drink. She nods, making a beeline for Drew Tanaka. You assume that’s who the invitation came from originally.
There’s a different energy to the kitchen, not quieter by any means but less noisy. Less concentrated, maybe, with twenty different conversations happening at once and nothing you have to pay attention to. Most people you don’t recognise, a group from your first year stats class huddled together near the sink, and the Stolls off to the side pointing at every new person they see. 
Mixing your drink is an easy fix, the kitchen island covered in more choices than you’ve seen in a while, and you savor the first few sips. Between class and swimming, you’ve barely drank since the semester began and the burn of vodka isn’t as numbed as you wish it was. Still, a drink is a drink so you refill it before returning to the thick of the party. 
Clarisse takes it upon herself to drag you away from the conversation you end up trapped in with Lee Fletcher, quite literally taking hold of your elbow. You mutter an apology, however disingenuous, rolling your eyes in mock exasperation as he smiles grimly. 
“I have no idea how you talk to that lot,” she says when you’re far enough away. “They’re all boring.” 
“Lee’s great. He always lends me notes from the lectures I miss.”
She laughs, pushing you into another room. “He’s trying to swindle a date out of you and you’re using him for lecture notes.” 
You shrug. There’s nothing wrong with Lee, except that Clarisse is a little right when she says most of your classmates are boring. It’s probably not intentional, and they definitely don’t realize it, but there’s this way they carry themselves around campus - half-nervous and half-haughty. It’s not a great combination and it’s why you gravitate towards the people Silena meets. 
“We were wondering when we were going to see you next,” Chris says as he throws an arm over Clarisse’s shoulder. You still don’t quite know the story there, how Chris Rodriguez managed to sweet talk your stoic teammate. One day, you’ll find out - a drunken vow you made with Silena on your dorm room floor when Clarisse mentioned a boyfriend - but you’re content to let them enjoy their romance in peace for now. “Almost thought you’d succumbed to the dark side.”
“You’re not getting rid of me yet.”
“And thank god,” he knocks his cup against yours before gesturing to the far corner of the room. “Because we need someone to kick Castellan’s ass at beer pong.” 
“Whose?”
Turns out, Luke Castellan is the newest brother to ksig. There’s not much to know about Chris’ fraternity in your eyes, just the basics of all frats, and you know from last year that there’s always bound to be a hotshot that needs someone to pump the brakes on their ego. Usually, they’re on the younger side, with more money than sense and they don’t expect anything from your approach. Luke Castellan isn’t quite that, but he’s not far from it either.
While Chris talks to the boy who was about to play, you take the opportunity to size up your opponent. It comes naturally, a part of constantly competing, and it comes in handy in moments like this, when the element of surprise is a key factor to the situation going ahead. 
Fitted jeans, branded polo and a stupid snapback cap worn backwards to show how cool he is. Nothing you haven’t seen before, really, except there’s this focused glint in his eyes with each plastic ball he throws like he has to prove his worth here. It’s a simple practice, unnecessary for a silly party game, but there’s this serious set to strong shoulders that you’re curious about.
The same way you want to know about Clarisse’s relationship, you want to know what makes Luke Castellan, whoever he is, tick. 
“Are you trying to get alcohol poisoning, Rodriguez?” 
“I’m not playing you, Luke,” Chris says and you watch closely as the other boy tilts his head slightly to the left. “I just had to go and get the current undefeated champion on campus.”
There’s this moment that happens every time you play - those awkward seconds where everyone looks completely past you to anyone else, anyone more noticeable. You count on it, occasionally, so it takes you a moment to process the way Luke’s gaze slides to you, drinks you in before he nods towards the other end of the table. 
Chris mutters a quiet “you got this,” as you brush past him, handing him your drink. You’re not delusional enough to think you can get away with mixing your drinks this early in the game. 
It takes two of Luke’s shots for you to land your first, his last hour of playing an advantage you accounted for. He’s not getting sloppy, not in the slightest, but he’s at the point where he’s a little worse for wear - a tired arm and hazy mind - and you take the chance you have at a false sense of security, taking your losses on the chin before playing the game to win. 
Within seven shots between you, you can see Luke start to get restless. How he reevaluates the table in front of him, his three empty cups to your four. Part of you really wants to knock that hat off his head, as if it’ll give you more of an insight into his mind. Instead, you wait for what you know is coming, a slight miscalculation that has the plastic ball rolling off the table to land at someone’s feet. 
Chris hands you a fresh one and you take in the way Luke swallows, jaw clenching as you line up your next shot. Whether he knows it or not, you’ve just been handed your win.
Clarisse cheers, handing you one of the cups from in front of you as everyone yells. You both chug what’s left of them, the bitter taste of cheap beer drowned out by victory, and as soon as that’s done, she throws herself back into Chris’ arms. Laughing, you turn around to find another drink, only to be met by Luke standing beside you.
“Are you about to be a sore loser?” 
He chuckles and it’s different like this. His eyes are brown, which you didn’t know five minutes ago, and his hair is dark from the little wisps of it you can see peeking out underneath his hat. You consider telling him that the hat makes him look lame, but then he’s leaning down to whisper anyway. “I expect a rematch.” 
It’s quiet and heavy and you wonder if anyone can tell that your blood feels like it’s on fire. It’s nothing, really, and it takes more effort than you want to respond. 
“Then expect to lose.”
The only saving grace to the exchange is that Luke looks a whole lot more affected by it, a blush crawling up his neck as you take the drink nearest to you and leave to find your roommate once more. 
*
Losing never used to get to you. Not like this, at least, where everything sort of feels like a precipice and you’re waiting for the next loss to fall on your shoulders alone. It was meant to be an easy game, a warm-up, for when the season started in earnest and you couldn’t afford to be incohesive. There’s always a learning curve, new starters and new competition, but in no world should it have caused this. 
Silena tells you to let it go, throwing yet another outfit on her bed as she gets ready. When you saw her at lunch, Clarisse told you to just push harder during practice. Sometimes you’re not even sure how you can be friends with both of them, how they can be friends with each other either. Unfortunately, it becomes very clear when Clarisse knocks on the door that night. 
“Why aren’t you ready?” 
“I’m not going anywhere.” 
She tuts at you, digging through the pile of clothing on Silena’s bed before throwing a dress at you. “Get dressed.” 
“You can’t make me,” you protest, the black fabric scrunching in your fist. You’ve borrowed it before, for a party last year you don’t remember very well, and you don’t even want to consider why it’s the one Clarisse selected. You turn to your roommate, looking for backup, only to find her with a pair of your shoes in her hands. “Are you seriously going to make me?” 
In unison, they raise a singular eyebrow each and it’s unsettling enough that you let go of all will to fight them. Today may as well just be full of losses that you can mourn tomorrow.
It’s only when you arrive at the party that you realize you have no idea who’s throwing it. Or who’s going to be there. Distantly, you really hope it’s a stranger Silena met on her way around campus - full of people you’ve ever met and will never see again. You could find someone nice enough to blow off some steam with before going on your merry way. 
When Clarisse yells at her boyfriend, you let out a huff as both he and Luke Castellan turn around. 
Since your first meeting, you’ve learned a few more things about Luke. He’s from Connecticut. He was responsible for half of Drew’s sorority coming down with the flu during freshers week. He’s in pre-med. He’s the reason Professor Chase introduced a ban on energy drinks in his lectures (one hundred students simultaneously opening a can of Redbull each was, apparently, mildly disconcerting). Most importantly, he’s always wearing that stupid cap. 
You try to equate the things you know with the Luke standing in front of you. Some of it makes perfect sense - Professor Chase and Connecticut - and some of it unsettles you, but it’s all true. Freshers and pre-med and track meets. Focusing on the distracted way he taps on his beer bottle instead of Clarisse greeting Chris, you kind of want to find out a whole lot more. 
“Fancy a rematch?” 
It’s the first thing he’s said to you all night, twisting the cap off a fresh beer before handing it to you. Then doing the same with his own. You pretend not to notice the movement of it, the few short seconds where you can get away with staring at the shine of silver rings in low light. Taking a sip, you crinkle your nose. 
“I’m not really in the mood,” you mutter and, at the very least, the beer is cold and you chug half of it before you even notice you’ve done it. “Don’t you have someone else you can bother?” 
There’s seconds before you notice it, how his eyes shift from slightly curious to intense. They don’t change much but standing in front of him, you can tell when they go from relaxed to focused. How his back straightens and shoulders roll back just so. You should go and find something stronger to drink. Maybe even see if Lee Fletcher is nearby.
You stay put.
“It’s just a bit of friendly competition,” Luke shrugs, unknowing of how it echoes in your skull. How that’s all today was ever meant to be. Leave it to him to dig the knife in again just as the tightness in your chest was starting to ease. “But I guess you just can’t handle it.” 
“I’d kick your ass in a rematch. I’m doing you a favor.” 
It’s obviously the wrong thing to say, Luke’s eyes brightening as the words push past your lips. The beer you drank way too fast is forming words before you even know what they are.
“You can always choose something else for me to beat you in,” he says, like it’s an offer, something gracious that you should be grateful for. “I’m easy.” 
“How many beers have you had?” 
“Three, I think?” 
Silena would tell you it’s a stupid idea - you have a coaching session at 9am and you haven’t gotten drunk since the party where you met Luke - and she would be right. But you need a win tonight, something guaranteed, and there’s this itch that crawls under your skin the longer you stare at the boy in front of you. 
So you say it anyway. 
“I bet I could outdrink you.” 
“I’d like to see you try.”
He waits as you down two more beers in quick succession, nursing his own as you do. A clink of your bottles against one another, followed by the final sip you each take and it’s finally a competition. 
The night continues, you and Luke almost joined at the hip. It’s to keep track, you tell yourself, talking to a kid that might be in your organic chem class. If the kid looks at you weird for pouring two drinks, only to hand one to Luke in silence, that’s probably just the alcohol misreading things. Only once, when you’re deep in conversation with Lee does Luke pass you a beer, eyebrow raised when Lee gives him a glare. You think that might’ve been drink eight. 
By the time Chris finds you both again, you’ve thrown yourselves onto the couch on the outskirts of the room. Someone’s abandoned coat is thrown over your legs in a mediocre attempt to preserve some dignity in the dress you’re wearing and Luke’s hat has twisted to the side. You’re sure neither of you has drunk a sip in ten minutes.
“You guys doing okay?” 
“We’re drunk,” you say and you can’t tell if it’s a whisper or a shout. “I’m winning.” 
“You’re not winning,” Luke turns his head to glare and you blame the alcohol on the attention you pay to the slope of his nose. “Neither of us have finished these drinks.” 
“Are you going to?” 
He glances down at the cup in his hand, half empty. You can see it, the hesitation, before he places it on the floor by his feet, shaking his head. “Are you?” 
The nice thing to do would be to give up, call it a draw and appreciate that you managed to have fun despite the bad day that had preceded it. However, you like to win. So you grit your teeth before drinking the final three sips, tilting the empty cup towards him so he can see the proof. It takes you a second to remember you have to actually swallow in order to drink, but you do and Luke scrunches his nose. You kind of want to kiss it as a way to smooth the skin back out.
“That’s two wins to me, Castellan.” 
Chris shakes his head at you both. “I’m not calling either of you to make sure you’re alive in the morning.” 
*
It’s an almost unconscious action when you walk into Drew’s sorority house, how you wave Silena off in favor of scanning the crowd, searching for the one reason you agreed to show up in the first place. It takes a moment, pinks and blues and silvers all merging together in your eyeline until you spot him near the staircase, familiar black cap resting on his head. 
You’re already a little buzzed, the thrill of your final project this semester finally being handed in just hours ago, and it’s why you let yourself actually look at Luke for once. 
By this point, you’ve seen him in a polo and a flannel, always with jeans. Laidback. That’s what party Luke was. Tonight, though, it’s like he’s trying harder - baggy pants, like they’re resting a little too low on his hips, a white t-shirt, white trainers that you know are going to stain before the night ends and a slightly oversized leather jacket that doesn’t quite go with the hat you used to identify him. Maybe it’s something he does on purpose, ruining a good thing over comforting familiarity. Maybe you’ll ask him.
Luke looks up then, as if he has a sixth sense, and you kind of don’t know what to do with the slight wave he sends in your direction. You wouldn’t call him a friend, that’s for sure, but you nod in response before weaving through your classmates to the kitchen.
It takes two vodka cranberries for Silena to find you. And it takes four shots with people you’ve never met for Chris to ask if you’ve seen Luke anywhere. You tell him where you last saw him, maybe an hour ago, and he shakes his head like he’s already checked the entire house.
“Do you think you can let him know I’m heading out?” Chris asks, one arm looped around Clarisse’s waist, more for support than anything else. She was already unsteady when you arrived and you know by the flush in her cheeks that it’ll only take a couple more drinks for her to start throwing up. You nod at Chris, cradling your drink to your chest, and he mumbles a thanks while steering his girlfriend towards the door.
With both of them gone, it leaves you with little to do except go hunting for Luke. So that’s what you do, waving Lee off as he attempts to grab your attention from the couch. 
Focusing is a lot harder now, squinting over everyone’s heads in search of that damn hat. Nothing. You know he’s not in the kitchen, that’s definite, and you learn that he’s not in the garden either, Katie from your anatomy class staring at you bewildered as you explain your quest. 
There’s only one place left to check for Luke and you consider if it’ll be a worthwhile risk. It’s entirely possible that he’s already left, whoever he was locked in conversation with earlier with him maybe, and you’re searching an entire sorority house on the off-chance he’s still in the building. 
But you promised Chris. More than that, you refuse to let Luke Castellan beat you.
So you commit to the staircase, pushing past the line for the restroom upstairs. It’s quieter up here, not by much, but you can hear yourself think clearer. There’s three doors on your left, all closed, and you drain the remnants of your drink so it warms your blood and erases the small part of your brain still protesting. 
There’s two yells when you knock on the first door, both hurried and pitching higher as the words fade so you move on quickly. No one answers to the second door, so you crack it open enough to see inside. It’s dark and neat and completely untouched by whatever is happening below, so you let it click shut again. 
Luke is in the third room, you learn, pressing it open when there’s no response to your knock. The room itself is still orderly, but you find the boy you’ve been searching for sitting on the floor at the base of the bed, hat turned to the side and the sleeves of his jacket bunching carelessly where they’ve been pushed higher on his forearms. 
“Chris wanted me to tell you he took Clarisse home,” you blurt when it feels like you need to say something. “He couldn’t find you so…”
Luke waits. When it becomes clear that’s all you’re here for, he says, “Well, thanks for letting me know.” 
You’ve done your job. You can go back and enjoy the party downstairs, maybe make use of the empty room next door instead of remaining awkwardly in the doorway. 
You think about how Chris mentioned that Luke can recite pi to seventeen places while drunk. How you’re still beating him by two points. How there’s an ashtray on the floor beside Luke’s knee and it’s sort of considerate of him to use one when no one else would.
“Mind if I join you?” 
Being in an empty bedroom with a guy at a party isn’t unusual. You’ve had your fair share of them, rushed and quiet and mostly on a bed. Sitting on the floor with Luke is different, you find, a gravity to it than you can’t quite wrap your head around after so many drinks. It’s slow and languid and you don’t really say much of anything as your knee bumps against his thigh in an effort to get comfortable in the space.
No one told you Luke smokes. 
You tell him as much.
“It’s a bad habit,” he shakes his head, twisting a cigarette between his fingers and you both act like you’re not paying rapt attention to it. “I try to avoid making it one.” 
“I used to. Back in high school. Gave it up when I got accepted here.” 
He turns to face you then, head tilted so the visor of his slanted hat brushes his shoulder. “I would never have guessed you were a smoker.” 
It’s not said with judgment, just as an observation from the limited interactions you’ve had since the semester began. The focus in Luke’s gaze crawls up your spine and mingles with the alcohol you’ve yet to flush from your system. 
“You ever blown a smoke ring?” 
If you’re not challenging him, you don’t quite know what to make of Luke. It’s the thing you know most about him, the way his face shifts from victory into loss. The way it matches yours, stretches from his eyes to his jaw and into clenched hands. If you’re not challenging him, you can’t read him - you want to be able to read him in the low light of right now. 
“I bet I’m better at it than you,” you say after he answers. A short laugh escapes him, almost a huff, and it raises the skin on your arms when it meets the top of your ear. “Wanna see?” 
“I’ve only got one.” He waves the cigarette he’s been holding in front of your eyes. 
“We can share.” 
It’s a bad, terrible, absolutely stupid idea. 
“You’re on, Castellan.” 
As he lights the end of it, you wonder if he knows what the brief flame does for his cheekbones, for his jawline. Paints them in small, defined shadows that you might still see if you close your eyes. You almost want to mention it to him. You settle for watching his lips settle around it, the sinking of his cheeks on the inhale and the noise as he exhales. There’s an almost complete ring of smoke in the air.
Luke hands you the cigarette and you repeat his motions, a little quicker. A little smoother. The ring that leaves your lips is full, but less circular. 
Both of you pretend not to notice the other one staring.
You agree to best of three. You agree and you win by the tiniest margin and you hand Luke the little that remains as a consolation prize. He indulges in the last few drags and you watch him do it, looking nothing like the pre-med student you know he is. You think he could be dangerous like this, based on the way your stomach twists as he puts the cigarette out, how his head tilts back and the final wisps of smoke escape his mouth.
You aren’t as drunk anymore. 
You really wish you were.
It takes Luke a second to notice that you’ve moved at all, eyes still closed but he does, and the run of his gaze across your face is enough for you to seize the last of the alcohol in your bloodstream, pushing forward so you’re actually face to face with him, knees digging into the rough carpet beneath you. 
“Can I help you?” It’s low and a little ragged and this is the first time you’ve really noticed the thin, pale scar that stretches down the skin of his right cheek. It’s actually a little insane how pretty he is up close. 
“I think I want a little more than the glory of winning this time,” and half of your whisper is lost to Luke Castellan’s lips but it’s not that important anyway.
What is important is the warmth of his hand through your shirt, pressed into the skin that exposes itself as you shift even closer. It’s the slightly rough texture of his jaw underneath your palm, the way his breath hitches in tandem with yours and you both push through it anyway. It’s the unexpected catch of your finger on his cap and the way you give up on it entirely, finally snatching it off his head so it lands somewhere nearby. 
You’re not sure what you expected Luke’s hair to look like. Horrible, probably, with odd patches that lie weirdly flat and should be covered from view. It’s not this, wild dark curls that deserve to be seen. 
“You have curly hair?” You say it before you can think not to, so caught up in the discovery you’ve just made, and Luke squints at you, unsure. “I can’t believe you have curly hair.” 
He’s preparing a smart-ass comment, you know it by the way his teeth dig into his bottom lip, and that’s really just not going to work this time - not when he’s been lying for months behind a hat. So you do what any sane person would, twist your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck and trail your lips across his jaw like you’ll die if you don’t.
His hand hooks underneath your thigh and, when you bracket his waist between your legs, cool leather brushing against your knees, you think this might be the best victory you’ve experienced yet.
*
Silena knows something is up when you refuse to speak to her about the party. There’s few secrets you’ve kept from each other since meeting, and even less since Clarisse got involved. It’s pointless to try, mostly, since they all spill out of you when the lights go out and you’re left with each other's company. You almost forgot how annoying she could be when she’s pushing for information.
“Don’t think I’m going to tell you either,” you say when Clarisse joins you in the library a week after the party. “I am a fortress of secrets.” 
“I know you hooked up with Luke.” 
“Seriously?” 
She rolls her eyes, passing you the book you’d asked her for during practice last night. “Calm down. Chris told me. I’m down ten bucks now.” 
“You bet on it?”
“Of course we did, it’s our brand.” 
“I’m not telling Silena,” you whisper again, frowning at your notes. You wonder if Clarisse is aware you haven’t actually spoken to Luke since that night. “She’ll make it a big deal for nothing.” 
“I won’t tell but you should probably figure out what happens next. There’s a party at ksig tomorrow night before everyone goes home for the holidays.” You tap your pen against the textbook. Clarisse pushes a slip of paper towards you. Someone’s phone buzzes to your left. “Think about it.”
When she’s long gone, you grab the paper she left from the table. It’s wrinkled and you smooth it as best you can beneath your fingertips. Blue ink, messily scrawled, and you commit it to memory. Closing your textbook, you leave it pressed between chapters seven and eight. 
The party is loud, louder than you’re prepared for after flaking out on so many since your first one last year. Silena brushes past you once you arrive, shoving your shoulder just enough that it twinges and you frown. You didn’t speak a word on the way here and the silent treatment is starting to drive a little crazy. 
It feels silly now, in a place so crowded, and you breathe deeply. Someone points you in the direction of the kitchen after multiple attempts at asking and you miss the light chaos of throwing up outside the Stolls’ dorm with your best friend. 
You grab a beer, using the table edge to pop the cap off, and it helps to ease the tightness in your chest at how unfamiliar this all is. You’re not sure you could even find the restroom, let alone a singular person.
Pushing back into the bulk of the party, you vow to leave if you don’t find him before you finish your beer. There’s a project you have to start looking into for next semester that could be a good use of time tonight. 
If anyone tried to convince you that most of campus was here, you’d be willing to believe them. A drink raised in Lee’s direction, a nod to Ethan from last years’ stats class, a half-hearted smile at Rachel, who raises an eyebrow at you like she knows something no one else does. 
And maybe she does, because you turn away from her to find Luke just feet away, gesturing animatedly to the guy next to him. There’s a beer in his hand and a hat on his head and his phone number so deeply etched in your mind since last night that you hardly think about it until you’re standing next to him again, drink placed on a table somewhere along the way.
“Hi,” he smiles and his scar shifts with it. He turns to the guy from before. “We’ll catch up later, man.”
“Have I ever told you that I hate that fucking hat?” 
“I sort of got that when you threw it across the room.” His lips wrap around the rim of his bottle and you think you can be normal about it, go back to the way things were, until he smirks just slightly and you know you can’t. 
“You’re such a sore loser, Castellan,” you mutter as you push yourself up to snatch it from his head. He doesn’t comment, lets your fingers brush through his curls until they’re a complete mess instead of compacted. He glances down at the cap in your hand and mutters, “And what is your genius plan for my hat?”
It’s a really fucking good question. Short of getting it off his head, you didn’t know what you were going to do. It’s one thing to throw it across an empty room in the dark, another thing entirely to abandon it to a frat party. So you choose the next best thing - placing it on your own head and daring him to question it. 
“I guess that can work,” Luke says and it sounds like a promise soaked in laughter. 
Neither of you find it as funny when he has to tip the visor upwards to kiss you.
763 notes · View notes
corroded-hellfire · 15 days
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Could I get a blurb or something from the AYW family when eddie and reader find out that she is infact pregnant and he's so happy and he can't wait to see her all pregnant with bigger breasts etc. And he loves to help her in anyway he can. And he's so excited about her belly when they do have sex. All the Fluffy stuff but a bit of smut to. Hehe. Thanks!
Eddie is a lovesick puppy all the time, but his pregnant wife? Oh boy. So thankful and happy to write this with my beloved @munson-blurbs 💚
Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap to up), pregnant!reader, breeding kink or does this move to pregnancy kink? We all know this Eddie has breeding kink BAD
Words: 2.5k
[As You Wish masterlist]
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Eddie’s been on cloud nine from the moment you even suspected you might be pregnant. Now with it confirmed, everyone knowing, and steps rolling along to get things ready for the baby, you’re pretty sure your husband physically can’t get any happier. You’re proved wrong the moment he notices your breasts getting a little larger, though. Then the very beginnings of your baby bump appeared, and Eddie’s hand didn’t leave your stomach for what felt like a week. 
Your husband has always been a gentleman, but he’s kicked it up a notch now that your second trimester has started. He’d always carry things for you, but now he makes the extra effort to go grocery shopping so you don’t have to reach for things on the high shelf or lift the full bags from the cart into the trunk of your car. And he isn’t the only one helping out.
The boys were, for the most part, good about doing their chores. Once in a while you’d have to get on one of them about picking their clothes up off the floor or cleaning up after themselves in the kitchen, but it was never anything major. But as twelve and nine-year-olds, they weren’t exactly known to go the extra mile, either. So, the day you first came home to them working as a team to move the laundry from the washer to the dryer, you almost thought you walked into the wrong house. You hadn’t intended to stand there and watch them as they did the task—they didn’t need a supervisor. But the pure shock kept you rooted in place as you watched Luke toss a dryer sheet in and Ryan reach up to press the correct buttons on the dryer’s control panel. 
“Eddie, the boys did laundry,” you had told him when he came home from work, your wide eyes amusing to the man. 
“I figured it was about time they learn,” he answered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Helps you out around the house, too.”
“That was your real motive,” you had said, narrowing your eyes at him. 
“So, sue me.” Eddie shrugged and stepped around you to get a bottle of water.
The men of the house have been at this for a few weeks now and it’s honestly nice to have some of your usual duties lifted from your shoulders. Are things done perfectly? No. But they weren’t when you did them, either. At least when Luke got Ryan’s clothes and Ryan got Luke’s this time, they could blame themselves instead of you. 
The boys have even been changing their own sheets and putting the clean ones on. Luke’s been so proud of himself that you don’t have the heart to tell him that he’s been putting the bottom sheet on inside out this entire time. 
The domestic bliss of it all fills you with a soothing warmth, like you’re being wrapped in the softest downy blanket. Sometimes you’re afraid this is all a dream and you’re going to wake up in your apartment back in college, late for some class before you have to go pick up the boys from school so you can babysit them. When that happens, you usually walk over to the large fake crystal bowl on the counter where you keep your keys and pull out your set. On your keychain there’s a small, laminated Shrinky Dink that says “Luke” that was given to you the first Mother’s Day that you were with Eddie. The first year they saw you as a mother figure more than a babysitter. 
You run the pad of your index finger along the rough plastic edge of the Shrinky Dink and the tiny little pricks of pain are another reminder that you’re not dreaming. 
Getting ready for bed that night, you tighten the belt of your lavender bath robe before grabbing a cloth to wash your face. This bathroom never used to seem as cold as it has to you these past few months. Pregnancy does weird things to your body. 
“Oh!” Eddie says as he steps into the bathroom. He snaps his fingers and spins around to head back into the bedroom. A moment later he comes back with a plastic drugstore bag in his hands. “I got this for you today. I know you said your gums are being more sensitive now, so I thought this might help.”
He offers you a plastic and cardboard package, a jade green toothbrush inside, and the words “Soft-Bristled Brush!” emphasized on the front. The hormones well up in you but you force them back down, refusing to cry over a toothbrush.
“Thank you, baby,” you say. “Now I can throw out that mean, old medium strength one.” 
Eddie chuckles and presses a kiss to your head as he passes by to get to the shower. 
As you scour your dresser drawers for pajamas, lacy material grazes your fingertips—maternity lingerie, courtesy of Jess, who swore Eddie would go absolutely feral over it. 
Her exact words were actually “he’ll cream his jeans,” but that was neither here nor there. 
Your eyes flit back to the bathroom where your husband is currently bathing. Your husband—the man you love and adore, who doted on you before you got pregnant and is the epitome of devotion now that you’re actually carrying his child. The alleviation of chores, the special toothbrush…maybe he deserves a little reward. 
As quickly as you can—which isn’t all that fast, considering your new center of gravity, you put on the babydoll slip, adjusting it so the slit down the middle showcases your bump. The matching set of panties almost feels like a waste, considering how swiftly Eddie will tear them off, but you step into them anyway and complete the look. 
There’s a clattering in the bathroom, jolting your already buzzing nerves. You know better than to ask what’s going on; over the years, you’ve found that many questions are best left unanswered. 
“Babe, have you seen my—holy fuckin’ shit.” Eddie’s eyes widen when he takes in the sight of you. The towel wrapped around his waist tents where his erection begins to burgeon. 
“Seen your what?” You bat your eyelashes, exaggerating your innocence, as you caress your bump. 
He shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter.” His hands are drawn to your sides, thumbs brushing over the swell of your stomach. “What’s all this for?”
“Just wanted to thank you for being such an amazing husband, even when I’m tired or moody or—”
“Baby,” Eddie cuts in, “all I’ve done is get you a new toothbrush and delegate chores to the boys. I should be thanking you for having my baby…and looking so damn good doing it.”
With that, he gets on his knees, grabs your thighs until his fingertips sink into your plush skin, and kisses the bump. 
“You’re perfect.” 
He moves forward on his knees, gently guiding you backwards until the back of your thighs hit the soft cotton sheets of your mattress. Large hands follow your hips onto the bed and quickly move down your legs to slip your panties off.
“Eds?”
“Hmm?”
“I, um,” you pause, feeling insecurity creep up in you despite your arousal, “haven’t been able to shave as well as I used to…”
Eddie pays your words no mind, instead just uses his pointer and middle fingers to part your lips and lick a stripe up your center. 
“‘S not gonna stop me.” His voice is gravelly, deep, and it sends a pleasant shiver up your spine. 
He takes your clit between his lips, tongue gently flicking over the bud. Giving it a little suck, he drops his unoccupied hand to your thigh and squeezes. 
You can’t help the way your hips move, as though of their own accord, grinding your core against his face. Eddie notices it, too, pulling away briefly to tease you. 
“Needy little thing tonight, hm?” His smirk glistens with your arousal. 
You’re in no position to argue; you simply nod and thread your fingers through his curls in a silent plea for him to resume licking at you. 
Eddie takes the hint, his tongue eagerly finding your hole and fucking it wildly. 
“Eddie, shit, holy fucking shit!” You find your voice in time for your orgasm to crash over you, crying out your husband’s name as he brings you that beautiful release. 
When he stands up, panting, you can see just how hard he is. The towel must have slipped off while his face was buried between your legs, and he’s now stark naked in front of you. 
“Tried to look at you while I ate your pussy, but, uh…” his cheeks tinge red, “couldn’t quite see you over this.” He cradles your bump, pressing his erection into your thigh. The pre-cum that’s beaded at the tip sticks to your leg, a reminder of what you do to him.
You flop back on the mattress, breathing heavily with a lazy smile on your face. 
Eddie crawls up over your body, chuckling when he catches your euphoric expression. 
“Feel good, baby?” he asks.
“Mhmm,” you hum, eyes drifting shut.
Eddie parts the sheer panels of the baby doll top so your emerging bump is on full display, pressing kisses in the valley between your breasts and working downward. 
He stops when he reaches your stomach. “Wish I could just keep you pregnant. Fuck, you look amazing like this.”
“So do it,” you mumble lazily.
“Don’t tempt me,” Eddie says, looking up at you with another smirk. 
He pauses, delaying removing his hands from your belly but craving being inside you. 
“Ride me, baby?”
You giggle. “Gonna need some help.”
Eddie nods, standing up and kissing you with his hands on your cheeks. “Anything. Anything for you. Christ, you’re a goddess.”
He helps you on top, his hands on your hips and holding your bump. Without further hesitation, he lines himself up and you sink onto his cock, letting yourself be filled entirely. 
“F-Feels so good.”
Eddie grunts. “That’s because this pussy belongs to me. You belong to me.” 
You just moan in response, so he grips your hips tighter and growls, “say it.”
“I belong to you,” you whimper, tightening around him as he thrusts up into you. “I’ll do anything for you, Eddie.”
After a few minutes, a newly-familiar ache creeps into your chest. Though you try to hide your wince, Eddie is all-too aware of your every move.  
“What’s wrong?” He stops thrusting, grabbing your wrists and pulling your attention to him. 
You gently maneuver out of his grasp and cup your breasts. “They’re just really sore from the, um, bouncing.” This never happened before pregnancy, but their extra sensitivity has you feeling every twinge of discomfort. 
Eddie pouts, not from disappointment, but from the realization that you’re in some pain. 
“C’mere, sweetheart.”
He withdraws, earning a whimper from you before he gently guides you onto your back and places a pillow beneath your lower back. 
“I’ll take it a little slower, yeah?”
You nod, your warmth enveloping him once again. He thrusts languidly, holding back so he doesn’t hurt you, and his carefulness has you connecting your lips to his. 
“I love you,” you mumble into his mouth. “I love you so much, Eddie.”
“I love you, too.”
His words, his movements, and your earlier orgasm are a perfect combination. You come undone, clenching around his cock and digging your nails into his back. 
“There you go,” Eddie coos, kissing just below your ear. “Baby, can I go a little faster? Is that okay?”
He rarely begs you; normally, you’re the one pleading with him to let you come. 
“S’okay, Eds.” You smile and he returns it, bracing his elbows on either side of your head. 
He slams into you, burying himself to the hilt and tucking his head into the crook of your neck. 
“Fuck—feels s’good—gonna come.” The words barely leave his mouth before he’s spilling into you, filling you with his seed. His body against yours and his release coating your walls has you falling into a foggy haze—the closeness, the intimacy, the safety you feel with Eddie is stronger than anything you’ve ever felt before. It’s only grown fiercer since carrying his baby.
The moment he pulls out of you and starts to move from hovering over your body, you tug him down next to you. Eddie laughs as you practically wrap him up in a death grip as he bounces against the pillows. 
“Well, this is one way to cuddle,” he says. 
“Got overexcited,” you say as you loosen your grip on him.
He doesn’t go too far though, immediately moving so that you can tuck into his side. As you move to slide closer, there’s a sharp intake of breath and your right hand instinctively goes to hold your bump.
“Baby?” Eddie asks, sitting up in concern, careful not to jostle your body. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”
You shake your head as you scoot closer to him again. The sharp jab of pain vanished as quickly as it was sprung on you. A subtle aftershock rolls through you, but it’s barely even detectable.
“Just some mild contractions. Doctor said they can happen after sex sometimes. They’re not, like, baby contractions,” you explain. 
Eddie visibly relaxes, shoulders dropping, and lays back against the pillows with you. “So, my excellent fucking skills didn’t send you into super early labor?”
A snort of laughter bursts out of you as you lay your head down on Eddie’s warm, solid chest.
“Sorry, Eds. Baby’s gotta stay put till she’s fully cooked.”
Your husband gives you a fake groan but smiles the whole time, kissing you tenderly. 
“All right,” he says. “But I heard from someone who shall not be named—”
“Steve?”
“Who shall not be named, that sex can help induce labor. In case you need some assistance in a few months.”
You smirk. “Let me know if anyone’s offering. There’s that cute guy at the grocery store—”
Eddie tackles you, taking care not to hurt the bump, pressing sloppy, silly kisses to your cheek and neck. You squeal with laughter and try to push him off of you.
“I’m kidding! I’m kidding!”
Eddie pulls back and smiles down at you. “You better be. Because this,” he gestures to your lingerie-clad pregnant body, “is mine and only mine.”
“Well, this,” you say, gesturing to your own body, “has to pee.”
Eddie pouts as you slide off the bed, eyes not leaving your frame for a moment.
“But we were gonna cuddle,” he whines.
You walk into the bathroom as you shrug your shoulders.
“Take it up with your daughter,” you say before closing the door.
With a dramatic sigh, Eddie rolls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling. His thoughts linger on your last sentence and the smile that was already on his face grows until it becomes a beaming grin.
“Holy shit,” he whispers to himself. “I’m going to have a daughter.”
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dcxdpdabbles · 9 months
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DC x DP: The Real Blood Son
It's a year after Damian came to live with them that he decides it is an excellent time to bombard Bruce with his news.
"I had a blood brother." He says to Tim after the other commented how important blood meant to Bruce-ie, not enough to make him get rid of his other sons. "He was the first from the artificial womb mother made with Father's DNA; however, he was disposed of once his heart condition became known. I highly doubt you will last even twice as long Drake-"
"What"
Bruce didn't know that he could make his voice that cold. That dead. What in the world does he mean disposed.
Damian goes still. The kind of still where he isn't sure if he just earned a punishment and is trying not to react to the fear. "My elder brother. Did mother not inform you?"
"Damian," Bruce struggles to level his tone at Dick's hard stare. "She hadn't even informed me of you. Please, can you explain more about your brother."
The youngest nods. "He had no name, but he was my biological brother. He was forced to grow to age of three before they realized he was defective. Grandfather had him sacrificed to the pit."
Jason growls "what do you mean?"
Damian looks confused- as confused as he can with his league training kicking in. "The Lazarus pit is made from the bodies of young virgins. No older then ten. They are sacrificed in exchange for the Infinite Realms' power to sink into the water. The children are not aware of what is happening to them until the very end. They do not suffer."
Bruce feels sick.
They talk a bit more, on how certain followers throughout history were more then happy to offer the great Ra's their own children to renew the pit. How Damain had watched three children when he was seven be sacrifice- it happened every five years- and how the children were given the best week of their lives.
They purposely given the most joy they could feel before the blades to make the Pit as pure as possible. He talked a lot about watching the youngest- five years- be laughing and splashing in the Lazarus water before his mother cut him down, his screams drowning in the green liquid.
"They say the Pit absorbs the last emotion of the sacrifice. Grandfather hopes the children realize the importance and honor they have to be ended for a glorious cause, but occasionally a few are disloyal. When Todd had taken a dip, the previous Renew, had a brilliant girl who figured out what was happening and attempted to escape. She failed, of course, and her arm was amputated in a mission, but she died angry. That's why Todd had such strong madness compared to-!"
"SHUT UP!" Jason roars suddenly, eyes glowing green, and for a brief moment, Bruce swears he hears an undertone of a young girl in his scream "SHUT UP! YOU DONT KNOW ANYTHING! YOUR OWN BROTHER IS IN THERE"
Damain scowls "it's a honor. My brother's body was defective. But he at least had aidded in a glorious ritual."
Bruce can't help it; he leans over the BatCave Railing and hurls his dinner. Damian finally realizes that something is wrong.
They host a funeral for his three-year-old son, who died without a name, and place his gravestone next to his parents. They explain to Damian why the Renewal ritual is horrific but Bruce feels it take years before his son can see that.
Jason, went out into Crime Alley to let off some steam and had been going on a rampage against the underbelly of Gotham. He can't find it I'm himself to stop him.
Bruce asks Constantine to come over and do a small ritual, to hopefully unbound his child and let his son soul move on. Constantine warns that with the kid's name it may not work and that they could only free souls they share blood to but the English man tries anyway.
They send his son their prayers, and hopes. And they try to put him to rest.
Across the Infinite Releams to three dimensions to the right of the Wayne's soul resting ritual, The Fenton's adoptived son, Danny Fenton jolts in his English Class.
The strange stabbing scar above his heart- which is why he never takes off his shirt- burns then cools as if someone had tried to place the temperature-changing ointment. He rubs his best, confused.
What was that?
He'll have to check with FrostBite. Maybe his heart condition is acting up again. It happens every five years even though no doctors his parents have taken him to could figure out what it was.
Until Frostbite. The yeti claimed it had something to do with dark arts, but he's unsure what type.
Frostbite is still doing more testing.
"I wish you had lived, brother. I wish I knew you name"
The wind whispers, and Danny feels a flash of deep longing and grief before it's gone. Yeah, he needs to talk to Frostbite.
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arhvste · 2 years
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“i was wondering if i could have your instagram?”
your heart hammered against your chest as the anticipation weighed down on your shoulders as you stood in front of the confused boy in front of you.
“ah… i’ll have to get back to you on that.” iwaizumi replied quietly as your stomach dropped.
“oh… okay then thanks anyway!” you forced a friendly tone out to mask the utter humiliation and upset that had washed over your mood entirely upon the few words the dark haired boy offered.
the rest of the class was a blur to you. you spent majority of the time staring blankly ahead of you to face the backs of forgettable classmates heads. the only classmate that mattered to you in this particular class had rejected you just before the teacher walked in so from this moment on you had no motivation to pay attention or look forward this class.
the end bell rang and you mindlessly threw your belongings into your bag before dragging yourself through the halls to your locker to collect the rest of your belongings and head home. you didn’t even bother to wait for your friends, no. they could wait until you were in the comfort of your own home to hear you scream over the phone how embarrassed you were as a result of the rejection over something as casual as asking to be instagram buddies.
‘what sort of loser gets rejected for that?’ you almost had to laugh it was so stupid. ‘whatever.’ you thought as your feet carried you to the front gates of the school. you’d have to apologise to your friends in advance before blowing up the groupchat with your over dramatic tendencies but a little tlc from your friends was needed at this vital milestone of your life; your first ever rejection.
upon the endless string of thoughts running through your mind as you walked, you failed to pick up on the voice that had been calling after you repeatedly from behind you. you tended up at the feeling of someone gently tugging on your sleeve out of nowhere but that surprise was nothing compared to the surprised you felt upon seeing the culprits gaze.
“iwaizumi?” you asked as your classmate caught his breath. “you on a mission or something?” he huffed a little as you frowned. “yes. a mission to get home, so see ya!” you replied quickly as your pace in walk picked up again.
before you could march off, a hand tugging on the strap of your bag stopped you before you could flee the scene which happened to include the last face on earth you wanted to see right now. “before you run off again,” he started before pulling his phone out his pocket. “my instagram. you said you wanted it?”
you looked at the device in his hands with confusion. zero followers, zero posts, zero following and a cute yet handsome photo of iwaizumi in place of the profile picture icon. “i didn’t have one earlier when you asked, so i made one during that class so you could add me.” he rubbed the back of his neck and looked away from you as you fought the urge to pounce on him and bite him.
‘he’s so fucking cute.’
you tapped your own handle into his phone and followed yourself before grabbing your own phone to immediately follow him back. a weird sense of pride came over you seeing his follower and following go up by one and that one being you.
“you didn’t have to do that.” you insisted as you handed his phone back to him. “nah, i should’ve made one ages ago but i just never got around to it.” he admitted, the heat on his face finally calming down. “but now you can message me if you ever need anything… or if you just wanted to you know, talk?“ he muttered as the urge to bite the shit out of this man piqued once more.
“i’ll definitely message you if i need anything or if i want to talk but you can do the same too!” you hummed as you slipped your phone back into your pocket.
“i’ll keep that in mind.” he smiled before turning around to walk away. “please do.” you shot back before turning to make your own way home. offering a quick exchange in waves you marched home ready to text your groupchat about what had just happened until you felt your phone vibrate.
‘@iwa.hajime has sent you a message: see you tomorrow :)’
on second thought. maybe your group chat could wait.
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rashomonss · 1 year
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MC and the brothers
context: cute little headcanons i have about MC and the demon brothers
a/n: also what?? rashomonss isn’t posting angst?? jk jk i promise I’m not up to anything so enjoy some fluff
my love for you transcends time
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When you and the brothers are out and about on the street weather you all are going out to dinner, doing some shopping, or even just hanging out the brothers will all walk in a circle around you unconsciously.
The two leading the MC circle are both Lucifer and Mammon (since I believe they have longer strides than the others when they walk).
Behind them are Satan and Asmo who will always walk to the side of you, and then Levi will always walk at an angle behind you and them this works best for him since he can hide behind you and his brothers if he gets annoyed with other people.
Lastly in the back of the MC circle are the twins. Belphie doesn’t have that long of a stride so he’s a slow walker and Beel will always match whatever pace his twin walks unconsciously.
So they are always at the back because if anything they can just tap you to get your attention and you’ll slow down to walk with them. However the MC circle happens all the time when they are all with you.
It scares a few lower level demons at times because here are the seven rulers of hell all walking around and talking, but there you are in the middle, barely able to be seen over them but still laughing and talking with them.
If you’re out to eat for dinner you all have certain seats. The brothers of course have their own seating arrangements when they go out to eat, but when you came into the picture they all changed seats.
So without fail you all will always sit a certain way at restaurants and such. This can differ depending on their moods and the day.
You tend to carry around seven different types of things whenever you buy something. It could be a snack or a drink you picked up from the RAD cafeteria, but without fail there will always be seven different flavors of it in your hands.
Because once you buy something for one brother you think about the others and feel the need to get them something too, otherwise you’ll have to make a trip back with them to get what they wanted. So to save yourself the trouble you usually just get each of them something.
Each of them like to latch onto you whenever they walk you to whichever class you have at RAD. They will each find their own way to do that.
Lucifer prefers holding your hand, or at rare moments linking arms.
Mammon’s go to is intertwining your fingers as you drag him along to your next class.
Levi likes to latch onto you from behind when he attends in person.
Satan prefers when you hold onto his arm then hold his hand.
And Asmo definitely wants you all over him, except he’s always all over you.
Beel’s simple, holding hands is more than enough for him, honestly the fact that you’re alone with him just makes him happy.
Belphie can differ depending on the day. If he’s exceptionally tired then linking arms is your go to since you spend your time dragging him along, however if he’s not that tired then he prefers to lean on you and hold your hand as you walk.
Don’t mind the stares from the lower level demons, the brothers gaze is enough to scare them off.
You all have a set system for ordering at a restaurant. Lucifer goes first of course, thus giving everyone time to remember their order.
Then Mammon follows, after Mammon you’ll order, however if you don’t feel like ordering for yourself then Mammon will always order for you.
Next is Satan then Asmo, followed by Levi and Belphie.
Lastly is Beel since he always has the biggest order.
You usually end up feeling bad for the waiter because after Beel’s order they always seem confused.
You all have designated seats also on the couch during movie nights.
Of course you’re in the middle it’s better this way so the brothers don’t end up fighting over you.
Next to you on one side is usually Mammon or Lucifer, on your other side will be Asmo and Satan.
Levi and the twins prefer the floor since it’s less crowded. Levi will lay his head on one of your legs while Beel will rest his head on the other. Belphie will then lay across the two using them as pillows. They all like to cuddle in this position as well if it’s later into the night.
Each brother leaves something important of his in your room. This gives them a reason to go visit you in case they need it.
Of course Mammon leaves almost a spare of everything in your room since he sometimes treats it like his own.
Levi leaves a few games and manga in your room so he has something to do if he wants to destress in your room.
Beel of course leaves snacks, however when you did explain to him about not wanting crumbs all over your floor he got into the habit of leaving his favorite jacket in your room. Often times when he remembers to go get it he finds you wearing it and smiles soon deciding he can just pick it up later.
Asmo leaves his beauty products and makeup in your private bathroom. When asked why he doesn’t take it back to his room he gave you somelame excuse about not wanting to carry all of it back.
Satan likes to leave his unfinished books along with his favorite book marks just so he can tell you about them when he visits your room.
Belphie leaves his pillow in your room, specifically on your bed. It sometimes freaks you out when you walk into your room and just see a body in your bed. However after further examination you find it’s just Belphie passed out like usual.
Lucifer doesn’t leave anything in your room, he’s to tidy for that. Is what he wants to believe. He often leaves some of his favorite pens or some unfinished documents on your table in hopes of seeing you again. Of course he’s always welcome in your room but, you soon begin to worry though when piles of paperwork find themselves resting on your table.
You carry seven different keychains on your bag. Each of them gave you one in hopes you would show it off, and when you put in on your bag they were ecstatic.
Lucifer got you a cute mini album keychain with your favorite song on it. Like the show off he is the songs title was engraved into it.
Of course you have the matching keychain with Mammon you both got from the human realm, however he wanted to get you one that was just from him. So he got you both heart keychains. Together they form a heart but when taken apart they’re two separate pieces. He hopes you don’t think it’s too cheesy.
A ruri chan keychain would surely suffice for you, however you both already have a ton of matching ones, so Levi decided to take a different approach. He spent awhile on it but he made you your very own keychain of Henry! Upon closer inspection the little goldfish keychain was so well crafted it surprised you. He almost cried when you said you loved it.
Satan knew exactly which keychain to pick out for you. It was a cute black cat with little red horns and a tail. When he presented it to you he huffed a bit when you said it looked like him. Still he was glad you liked it.
Asmo went all out and made a beaded keychain for you. It was pink and had little sliver hearts at the bottom. Did it take him long? Yes. But did you need to know that? No. He’s just glad you thought it was beautiful, but you should know that he’s still prettier than his creation.
Beel’s keychain was simple, but rather cute when he gave it to you. He gave you a little hamburger keychain he saw at one of his favorite restaurants. The second he saw it he thought of you. Since his favorite food is hamburgers he hopes that it’ll remind you of him. But he also hopes that you don’t try to eat it like he almost did.
Belphie will give you a keychain of his favorite constellation in the Devildom. It’s a little smaller than the others but he took the time to find it and picked it out just for you. He hopes you’ll enjoy looking at it just as much as he does. And a part of him can’t help the small smile that creeps onto his face when you recognize the constellation. 
Once all keychains are on your bag you do become rather loud due to all the keychains jingling.
The brothers all keep little notes from you. Whether they be notes passed in class or even sticky notes of encouragement you left in their rooms.
Each brothers has their own place they keep notes from you.
Lucifer keeps your notes in his office in a locked drawer. He would rather die than admit it but when he’s exhausted he likes looking at them for a little pick me up.
Mammon leaves them in a tiny box under his bed. Because when he finds himself thinking about you he rereads them and smiles.
Levi usually gets sticky notes from you so they all hang on his wall over his gaming monitors. At times he forgets they’re there so he always get nice little words of encouragement when he looks up.
Satan keeps them all over his room, he sometimes even uses them as bookmarks if he really needs to. It’s messy yes but if you asked him where each one was he could definitely tell you.
Asmo keeps all your cute sticky notes on the border of the mirror on his large vanity. It makes him happy to see your sweet notes to him with little hearts as he gets ready in the morning.
Beel leaves your notes on his nightstand. They pile up but never get dirty. He takes extra care to make sure he doesn’t get crumbs or grease on them when he eats in his room.
Belphie leaves them in the attic. Often times when he’s tired he likes to go there to sleep so he likes to be greeted with the sticky notes you gave him as they hang all over the walls. Sometimes they’re not just notes they’re also little doodles of the stars, you and him, his brothers, or anything. His favorite is your stick figure drawing of you, him, and Beel.
The brothers let you draw on them. It doesn’t matter if you’re an artist or not, all the little doodles on their hands are something they find cute.
The only ones that have been called out for the doodles however have been Lucifer, Beel, and Mammon.
One afternoon while Lucifer was having tea with Diavolo in the council room he decided to take off his gloves. Due to the rare occasion Diavolo took a peek at his hand since something blue caught his eyes. After he pointed it out Lucifer immediately became embarrassed exclaiming that he didn’t draw on himself, you did. Diavolo finds his reaction quite funny and tells you about it later.
Beel was getting ready for fangol practice when one of his teammates brought up all the writing on his arm. He shrugged it off simply saying that you drew it. After practice though he was a bit disappointed his sweat made is disappear.
Lastly Mammon thew a hissy fit at his modeling gig because they wiped off all the ink you had drawn. Specifically the “i love you” you had written on his arm. They explained how it was better for the shoot without it on him which kinda pissed him off. However you found it cute when he told you so you drew on his arm again. 
A day will not go by without all seven of them being in your room together for at least an hour.
The first ones to stop in would be Mammon and Levi exclaiming that there was a new series that was becoming popular in the human realm that all of you should watch. With that being said Mammon mentions the fact you all need snacks so he leaves to go get some.
As Levi is setting up the series Mammon comes back with a mountain of food and drinks. However behind that mountain is Beel asking if this was enough for everyone. At your response of “that’s plenty” he then leaves to go get his twin.
As Mammon sorts through the food on you table and Levi continues to get the series ready you set up your bed waiting for the inevitable.
A minute or two later Satan walks in claiming he has to tell you something. But when he sees the other two he stops and decides to take a seat next to you on your bed. Mammon then yells at him for being to close to you.
At the sound of yelling Asmo bursts through the door screaming at the two of them to shut up. But once he registers what’s going on he runs in and sits on your other side. Causing Mammon to yell at him to.
You roll your eyes, laughing as they all argue. However they then start to get loud and Levi ends up getting hit with a pillow in the process. Upset at this now, he threatens to summon Lotan which somehow summons Lucifer instead, causing him to yell at Levi.
You tell Lucifer to then join you all and after some bribery he finally does.
So then Asmo moves next to Satan and Lucifer then sits next to you on your bed.
Mammon then sits next to Lucifer right as the twins walk in. Beel sits on the floor and surrounds himself with food while Belphie uses everyone as his own personal pillow.
Sighing Lucifer covers the youngest with his coat.
Finally finished Levi starts the show and sits next to Asmo.
You laugh quietly to yourself as your demons spend the next few hours in your room.
Honestly what would they do without you?
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