#brown eyes fem teen

[beautifulfaaces]

Sam Morelos

Facts

July 7, 2005

Filipino American actress

Filmography

Nikki [That 90’s Show: 2023]

Nobody [Forgetting Nobody: 2022]

Appearance

black hair/ brunette

brown eyes

Roleplay

playable: teenager

[reverieblondie]

Remember Me?

Pairing: ExNerd!Miguel O’Hara X fem!civillainreader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Praise, Unprotected Penetrative Sex (wrap it before you tap it), , Oral, Cowgirl, Missionary. You and Miguel make a mess...

Summary: Miguel has changed a lot since high school, but one thing remains the same...how he feels about you.

A/N: I have been trying to write about Miguel for weeks now! Every time I get close to finishing something for him I reread it and hate it! So I am posting this before I can change my mind! I hope you all enjoy I tried my best!

Word Count: 6,823

Part 2: coming soon....

“Pfft…I can't believe this is real; this can’t be real!” Gwen keeps repeating to herself, trying to stifle back her laughter. 

“I know! I couldn’t believe my eyes when Peter showed me but here it is!” Miles agrees; Pav quickly slings his arm around Miles for a better look.   

“Take a look at the specks on him. Did you know he needed glasses?” 

“Flip to the club photo. Now, that will shock you all.” 

At Hobies request the teens quickly start flipping through pages. The sound of flipping pages and then the sudden bursting of laughter from the small huddle was something Miguel could no longer ignore. Miguel wasn’t sure why the teens and Peter were in his office. But since the events with the spot and some well-deserved apologies, Miguel, in the teen's words, “Chilled out,” and now they seem to hang out around him more. Meaning they are often now in his office… Miguel, of course, tried to appear as indifferent as possible to this change of pace, though He had to admit it was somewhat nice to have the cheerful ambiance that came with them... Hell, sometimes they could make him chuckle; Miles was actually pretty funny. But, of course, he keeps these things to himself. 

Miguel makes his way to the huddle to see what could possibly be so enthralling. When he sees what's causing their uproar, his blood runs cold, freezing him dead in his tracks.

Is….that…his….yearbook…

It was turned to his picture and plan as the day under his unrecognizable photo was his name. So there was no getting out of this saying it wasn’t him…

“Miguel, is this really you?” Miles questions pointing to the picture. 

“Must be his name right there,” Pav teases, making Miguel groan. This was an actual nightmare. 

Looking over them, Miguel sees the picture they are all questioning; the difference is pretty night and day. A young 17-year-old Miguel was way scrawnier compared to his now bulking physique. His dark brown eyes were hidden behind his thick black-rimmed glasses, the only ones his mother could afford at the time. Miguel's thick, wavy brown hair looks untamed as it hangs down his forehead, threatening to cover his eyes if not for his glasses, the rest hanging loosely down to the nape of his neck. Poor kid was desperate for a haircut. Their cheekbones and jaw were still chiseled, and his face was not yet littered with lines of stress, sleepless nights, and age.  

Hobie quickly grabs the yearbook, vigorously flipping through the pages until he stops on a picture of a young Miguel holding up a mathlete trophy, awkward smile and all. “This is my favorite picture. Do you still smile like that, bruv?” 

“How did you all get this?” Miguel asks in irritation, pinching the bridge of his nose as if that will somehow stop his building anger and embarrassment. 

Very aware of the sight of Miguel about to rage out, the young spiders quickly part, pointing the blame to a laughing Peter. Who finally quits his laughing fit as now he is staring into the eyes of a very irritated Miguel, waiting for an explanation. 

Peter nervously clears his throat before speaking, “Wel, uh…do you remember a couple of days ago when you told me to drop off that equipment at your apartment? Well…I happened to see this on your living room bookshelf and thought I would look at it. Then I saw how much you had changed… I figured the kiddos would get a kick out of it…”

Miguel's eyes narrow, and his talons pop out, ready to bounce, but that is quickly escalated by Gwen taking back the yearbook, prepared to negotiate peace. 

“Okay, okay, no need to rip his head off; we will return your book.” Miguel's body relaxes as he sighs of relief, holding out his hand for the book, but Gwen smirks, holding the book back out of his reach, “But, you have to show us your old crush first.” 

Miguel’s eyes nearly pop out of his head, freezing at the terms of the agreement, and everyone else, including Layla, starts oohing. Making Miguel pitch the bridge of his nose again, muttering under his breath, “Esto tiene que ser una pesadilla…” (this has to be a nightmare…) 

Then, to make things worse, they start chanting, “Show us….Show us…Show us! Show us!!”

The chatting became too much, and he snapped, holding out his hand irritatedly for the book. “Fine! I will show you; just shut up!” 

A yay fills the room as Miguel starts irritatedly flipping through the book as soon as it’s laid in his hand. Everyone waits in bated breath until finally landing on the correct page. It's the page he spent the summer before college staring at, the picture he had agonized over. Miguel pauses, taking in the picture, and he feels those familiar feelings rushing up and swelling in his chest…Those high school crushes do hit you hard…

Even after all these years, he still remembers you so vividly; seeing the picture always solidifies for himself as confirmation as to why he had liked you so much. Beautiful and popular, everyone would only have positive things to say, even if your friend group wasn’t as nice. Miguel remembers that sweetness fondly. Though, behind that sweet smile, there was a mischievous side of you; he recalls hearing it hidden in your cooing voice when you would say that pet name during chemistry class… 

“Miggy~”     

The memory warms Miguel's cheeks, but he quickly dismisses the feeling. “There, that's her.” 

The teens quickly grab the book back, climbing over each other to marvel at the picture of the girl the oh-so-scary Spider-Man 2099 had a crush on when he was their age. 

“Wow, she's stunning!” Gwen complements 

Miguel hums in agreement, “Yeah… the prettiest girl in my grade…prom queen, part of the student council, incredibly sweet…, and we took chemistry together…” 

Pav and Hobie shoot Miguel a smirk, and he quickly huffs, folding his arms over his chest. 

“Ever work up the nerve to confess?” Pav questions, ever the romantic. 

The group watches as Miguel closes his eyes, thinking that the blush from earlier is slowly rising to his tan cheeks, making them all gasp in excitement. 

“You did!” They all scream, but Miguel is quick to correct them. 

“Well…technically…I didn’t” 

“What do you mean technically?” Miles prys

Miguel can’t believe he admitted this much, but since he's already down the rabbit hole, he might as well give some more context: “At graduation…I kinda did, then I…ran away…”

A look of shock and confusion fills the teenager's face, but Peter is all grins and is going to give Miguel a high five: “Ah, the mysterious type. Nice.” 

Gwen quickly swats him on the shoulder, earning a whine from the man. 

“Not nice! That is so confusing! You just ran? Did you ever talk to her again?” 

Miguel takes a second to avoid eye contact, stoically starting to the side, before letting out a quiet, “No…” 

There is a collective groan, and Miguel rolls his eyes, trying to contain his high school embarrassment. 

“Can we stop talking about this and return to work now?”

“Have you seen her since?” Miles questions, 

“No,” Miguel answers sharply, irritation coming back up.

“Wha-what! How will you ever win her love if you don’t clear up the misunderstanding and confess your true feelings!” Pav laments, making everyone look at him with a raised brow. 

“Pav, mate…you know how long it's been since he's seen her?” Hobie chides 

Pav shrugs slightly, muttering, “Maybe it could be like a romantic thing…” 

“So wait, You have all the resources and never thought to at least search her out? Aren't you curious?” Gwen prods 

“No, I never thought about stalking my old crush. Now, can we please-” 

“She lives in the city!” Miles' voice calls out, making Miguel whip around.

Miles and Layla stand on Miguel's platform with your picture, info, and social media pulled up on his halo screens. Everyone is quick to web over, including Miguel. Miguel quickly pushes away a beaming Miles as he takes in all your information. He sees where you went to college, where you work, and…

“Ooohhh! She's still single!” Pav beams, looking at Miguel expectancy.

Miguel rolls his eyes as he keeps looking at you, still as perfect as he remembered. Somehow, you seem more confident in yourself, you seem…sexier…

Feelings start rising back to Miguel's chest. He hasn’t seen you in so long, and even your pictures still stir something within him. 

“Wow! This is awesome!” Miles beams, pointing to one of the screens 

Miguel, being too lost in your pictures, hasn’t realized what the teens are yammering about until they all start shaking him back and forth in excitement. Then he finally hears it.

“You can see her at your High School reunion! It's coming up in a couple of weeks!” 

Miguel turns his head to the invitation Layla had pulled up. “You got this a month ago but didn’t think you would be interested…. It looks like you will be attending now, though!” 

Before he can protest, she is RSVPing, and all the teens are hollering in laughter and giving high-fives. Everything is happening so fast that all Miguel can do is stand there in something akin to a trance. That's until Pav comes up to him with a giddy smile, 

“It’s like density!” 

Miguel groans…he wants everyone to get back to work…

They really got him here….How the hell did he let them convince him to come here? They even managed to get him to dress up…

Hair in its usually slick back style, slate gray button down that did little to hide his bulk, and black trousers that he thought appeared too tight but Layla had insisted upon.  

Miguel stands uncomfortably off to the side as people he used to know all gather together, chit-chatting about their lives and reminiscing on the good old days… All while Miguel stays sulking in the corner…Maybe things from high school haven’t changed that much. Well, despite the whole genetic splicing that made him a superhero… Instead of still being the captain of the Mathletes team, he's now the CEO of Aleamax. However, one thing remains the same: When he is in a room filled with all these people from school, his eyes still roam around, trying to find you…

High school had not been kind to a nerd like him. He was 9 inches shorter, and the most important things to him were keeping all A’s, getting into his dream college, keeping up with his favorite comic series, avoiding bullying, and wanting so badly to kiss his crush. 

Miguel vividly recalls all those times in chemistry when you two worked so closely together. Miguel shyly mutters the mixing process while you lean in with stars in your eyes, taking it all in. Miguel never knew if you were interested in what he was saying or if you were trying to get a good grade, but he didn’t care. You still made his cheeks flush and heart race all the same. 

“Then…When-when you add fluid B to A, you will get a fizzing reaction…” 

A shaking Younger Miguel tries to steadily pour in the fluids while you watch, leaning in so close he could smell your sweet perfume and look at your glittery glossed lips. 

“Wow! Miggy, you’re so smart.” Your voice would be like sweet honey praising him, and the mere closeness of you to him would make his body feel like it was going to melt. 

“I keep telling my friends I have the best lab partner…” Miguel feels his throat dry as your hand slowly curls over his forearm. Then the bell rings, and Miguel is flustered, packing his things as you smile sweetly and wave goodbye. 

God, you must have been just messing with him, toying with him, knowing he was like a love-sick puppy for you. The worst part, if this was the case, he would have let you…Miguel would have let you toy and bat away at his heart until you felt content with it fully unraveling to you. Pathic…is that what you thought? Well, if it wasn’t what you thought of him before, it must be what you thought after his pitiful confession…

Miguel thinks back to that night when he last saw you…that all too familiar warmth threatens to take him over, so as he stares down at his drink, he slips back to that moment…

The ceremony had ended, everyone had exited the stadium, and Miguel was taking a second to calm himself in the dark hallway. High school was over, and his life was beginning. He was thinking back on all his decisions for this new chapter. Miguel fidgets with his graduation cap and feels about what awaits him. Then he thinks about the things he missed out on…

Then your face comes to mind…he had vowed to confess; even if you laughed and rejected him, he wanted to get his feelings off his chest. But when it came down to it, he let his shyness get the better of him and let you slip through his fingers without telling you. This was high school? He was sure to like other girls…but why was this eating away at him so much? Why did he feel so sick to his stomach for not doing this… 

The sound of clicking heels fills the corridor, and like fate, you are walking through the hallway back toward him. Miguel adjusts his glasses, unsure if this is some kind of halustion brought on by self-pity, but no… it was you…

As soon as your eyes locked to his, your lips curled to that all too familiar smile, the one that was so sweet. Then your voice rang that teasing nickname you graciously bestowed upon him.  

“Miggy, what are you doing, silly? Hanging out in the dark…Don’t you want to go celebrate?” 

“Oh…... I didn’t plan to go to any parties… just going to go home and get started on some summer reading…”

The smile that curled on your lips was additive as you stepped closer to his slouching form, “hm…Miggy…always so prepared… I’m going to miss seeing you around so much. I’m sure you're the only reason I passed chem!”  

“No…I am sure you will have more interesting people to talk to than a nerd like me…” 

“Maybe I like talking to nerds like you.” 

The statement made Miguel look up to see you so close to him mischive filling your eyes. Leaning in so close to him, he feels like he can’t breathe when he looks at you so close like this…

“You don’t mean that…” he chuckles softly.

Then your index finger lifts his chin, and you look at him with sweet eyes, but your tone is stern, “Don’t tell me what I mean…” 

Miguel feels his heartbeat quicken, and his palms begin to sweat. Before he can return to rational thought, he leans into you. 

He so gently cups your cheek with his nervous hands. Brushing his nose against yours, his shaky breath fanning over your sparkly glossed lips. Then, when your lips finally meet, he isn’t sure who fills the gap. 

The kiss was so sweet, and he held you so gently, but he knew you could feel the shaking of his hands and the heat rushing to his face. Everything around you two seemed to fade.

Eyes shut tightly from falling into the depths of the kiss, he pulls away to breathe. Peeking open his eyes, Miguels sees you are breathless, and your face is burning with a deep blush. You look so surprised... and he doesn't know what to say or how to explain. 

“I’m sorry…I just had to do that once…”

Then he ran off… leaving you alone in that dark hallway, scared of what you would say next…

“Miggy!” 

“Miggy!”

“Miguel?” 

Lost in his thoughts, Miguel failed to notice that one of his ex-classmates had been trying to get his attention. One of them must have finally recognized him. Looking up from his cup, Miguel expects to see one of his old mathlete teammates, but as he finally meets their eyes, he feels his heart stop at the sight. 

Looking up at him with that same sweet smile, you look just like he remembers: completely radiant. Your pictures showed you were still beautiful, but in person, you are the thing he remembers most about you: breathtaking.

“Miguel, that's gotta be you… Do you remember me?” -How could he not remember you?

Miguel feels himself staring at his thoughts, running everywhere; what does he say? What does he do? 

“I…I, of course, remember m-my lab partner.” -Okay, a little shaky…But with your face seeming to light up when he says he remembers and your eyes roaming over him, he can’t chastise himself too much for stuttering now. Miguel feels his hands starting to become clammy, and his stomach feels full of butterflies…shit…this feels like high school all over again. 

“I can not believe how different you look!”

“Yeah, late growth spurt and I uh… I started going…to the gym a lot….You though! You still look so beati- uh nice…good you look outstanding…” His mind is running a mile a minute, and he can’t believe how he is acting right now! He's Spider-Man, and he’s acting so nervous?

Smirking, you look as if you could read his mind about how nervous he is, though to anyone with working eyes, it was obvious. 

“You think I look good?” you ask, playful spinning, making Miguel's eyes take in just how tight your dress is. “I was hoping for beautiful…” you smile, giving him a wink. His blood rushes in his veins, and he swallows his suddenly dry throat. 

You could eat him alive…and he would let you…

“Beautiful then, you - uh… you have always looked beautiful…” 

“Thank you, Miguel, you look very handsome.” Miguel feels his heart racing as you step closer. Your eyes stay on his confident smile on your glossy lips. It teeters on cocky, and Miguel can’t bring himself to hate it…he loves it…

“Though Miguel, I do have to say…I miss the glasses; they were really cute.” 

“I still have some that I wear sometimes,” he says a bit too eagerly. 

Your smirk widens, “Really? Does your girlfriend like them?” 

“Oh, I don’t have a girlfriend.” 

The smirk on your lips borders on sinful “Good…” You purr 

Miguel feels a wave of electricity shake through him. Are you flirting? Miguel can’t help the smile and blush that's now reached to the tips of his ears. Miguel came here thinking that you wouldn’t be here, and if you were, you would be avoiding him, but he didn’t expect this. Do you even remember it? Well, of course, you would! Who forgets getting kissed, and then the person runs? He needs to apologize before he never sees you again. 

“So Umm…I am glad I got to see you, well other than it’s just nice seeing you…but I want to apologize…” 

“You’re talking about graduation.” Your cheerful voice cuts him off and utterly confuses him. Furrowing his brow, he’s lost and hoping you can explain. 

“Miguel, I liked the kiss…I wish you wouldn’t had run away…” 

Miguel is sure he’s died, and there is no possible way you're saying this to him. Sweet, perfect you, liked when he kissed you. Nerdy awkward him? Gently, Miguel feels your hands touching his chest, slowly dancing your fingertips over his muscles. Miguel hopes you can’t feel the way his heartbeat is racing right now. 

“You know, now that I really think about it…you owe me an apology or something. It was very rude of you to kiss me suddenly and then run away like that, teasing me. Then, when I went to reach out to you, you didn't have any socials. That's not very nice to do, you know…”  

Your hand slightly grazes his jaw, and he feels like he could melt. Rising to your tiptoes, you try to whisper in his ear as you lean into his chest, your chest rubbing against him. Miguel can feel himself starting to break a sweat. 

“I thought you were sweet…” 

Miguel feels you start to pull away, and in a moment of bravery or desperation, he carefully places his hands on your waist. Leaning down, he whispers back to you. 

“Could I make it up to you somehow?” 

“I have an idea…if you're up for it?”

Gathering his confidence, when he sees your smile, he squeezes your sides slightly, “Anything you want.” 

Without any hesitation, you grab his large hand from your waist and pull him along with you to slip out of the reception room into a dark hallway. The irony is not lost on either of you as you grin and pull each other close. Your lips are so close to his as you lean into his chest. 

“You're not going to run away this time. I want you to do this properly this time…”

Part of Miguel feels like he could be dreaming; your arms are wrapped around his neck, your fingers tangled in his hair, smiling at him so sweetly. Your eyes are one of pure hunger, and your voice is so transparent with your want. It’s perfect. 

Miguel brushes his thumb over your tempting lips, slightly dragging the bottom down while he tries to archer himself back to reality. Moving his hand to your neck as he leans in and kisses you. Your lips are soft and perfectly guiding against his. Miguel's hands fall to your hips; he digs his fingers into the plush of your skin, making you gasp into his mouth with a moan. It’s been a long time since he’s kissed you, and he wants to make sure you know how much he wants you… trying his hardest to impress you. 

The fingers in his hair tighten to a fist as you guide him to part his plush lips, then slip in your tongue to get a taste of him. It’s gentle at first but quickly heats up from your eager influence. Then you start straddling his thick thighs, grinding slightly against him. Both your bodies feel like you’ve been set on fire in a blazing flame of want. 

“Miggy, I always liked you…just-”

Before you can finish your words, Miguel drives his tongue back into your mouth, eager to taste those words he had always wanted to hear. His hands cup your ass as he drives his knee deeper between your legs, letting you use him more. Breaking the kiss, you let out the most perfect moans as your body tingles and shivers. Miguel hasn’t had enough of you yet as he keeps his mouth kissing against your flushed skin. His tongue rolls over your rapid pulse as you keep grinding and mewing for more. 

“Fuck, miggy~”

Miguel licks a long strip up your neck before grunting in your ear, “I… I only came here… to see you…t-talk to you…” 

His rough words make you grind against him more, and right as Miguel starts to feel your slick soaking through his pants, you pull his hair, successfully pulling a whimper from him, which is quickly cut off by your soft lips to his again. Then, as you pull away, you bite his bottom lip, which makes him shiver. 

“Can…can I take you home…” Miguel asks breathlessly, his hands still squeezing your ass. 

A small giggle leaves your kiss-bitten lips as you take a second to fix his now-disheveled hair, thanks to you. 

“Take me to your place, Miggy; you still owe me…” 

Miguel feels a rush of excitement run through him, making his length throb at your words. You really are going to eat him alive…

It's the perfect sight he’s only ever dreamed of seeing, you sitting on his large bed completely naked, a sweet smile on your face, soft legs crossed over each other, waiting patiently for him. Miguel adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose…you had insisted, and he’s finding he can’t deny you…

Miguel slips off his underwear, kicking them away. Your eyes widen as you see his massive length slap against his abdomen, then hanging heavily. Your eyes rake over his immaculate form; the sight of you licking your lips isn’t lost on him. 

“Strip for me, Miggy,” you taunted as you dropped your dress with little effort, waiting for him to follow. Of course, he did. He would follow anything your sweet voice commands. Just please…let him touch you…

Running his hand through his hair, Miguel approaches you, but your sweet voice turns to him in disapproval, and he pauses. 

“No walking, I want you to crawl on your hands and knees…please? Miggy~” 

Every time you use that old nickname, he feels his cock twitch. Keeping his now blazing eyes on you as he slowly sinks to his knees and begins to crawl to you obediently. The action is meant to make him look submissive, but you find that even now, he looks like a predator getting ready to devour its prey… The shiver that shoots down your spine goes right to your sex, making you drip down on his sheets. 

As Miguel crawls closer, you unfold your legs, stretching one out slowly toward him. His large hand immediately catches your ankle. Hungry eyes look up at you, blazing with want, as his hand slowly caresses up your leg. Miguel's lips kiss softly against your calf while he whispers faint words under his breath after every kiss. His eyes watch you as he slowly raises your legs, the back of your thighs being pressed against his broad shoulders.  

Miguel's hands grab your hips, making you slip a moan. His eyes turn softer as he hears you moan, his lips coming away from the fresh mark he's left on your inner thigh. Miguel's lips part to apologize, but you're quick to interrupt before he can. 

Leaning forward, you push his glasses back into their proper place and caress his cheek. “You're doing so well for me, Miguel…though…It does feel like you're trying to make me beg… Are you trying to tease me?” 

Miguel's lips curl into a smile as he lowers his face to lick his tongue against your clit. You throw your head back at the hot contact, Miguel groaning at the sweet taste of your cyprine. 

“I wouldn’t dream of teasing you…” Miguel's lips lower down to your clit before he gives it a quick lick. 

Unable to help yourself, you grab a fist full of his hair, making him let out a soft groan, “Then devore me, Miggy; you still owe me, remember? And I-Ah!~” 

Before you can finish your taunting, Miguel is driving his face into your wet sex to selfishly devore more of you. Long slow licks of his warm tongue send waves of pleasure to flood your body as your toes curl from every push of his nose to your clit. 

His breaths for air huffing against your quivering sex, the tip of his tongue darting back to lick against your soft folds, making you whine. Looking down at him, his glasses crooked and hazy and his groans continue to vibrate through your pussy. Then the sensation of his tongue probing you open makes you close your thighs against his head and grab this thick hair, pulling hard enough for a grunt to slip through his chest. Getting the message, Miguel moves his tongue to lick your sensitive clit as his finger slips into you. Your grip on his hair gets tighter as you squirm, grinding your hips against his face, mouth hanging open as your chest heaves moan after moan. Your body starts shaking at the addition of another finger, making you feel jolts of pleasure that make you need to roll your hips onto his face more. 

Miguel could carless at the apparent use of his face for your pleasure; it's all he craves right now, your cum to dip all over his eager tongue. For your hips grind onto his face for hours. He would stay on his knees worshiping you like this until you're calling out from too much pleasure, and even then, he doesn’t know how he could pull himself away from your delicious taste. 

You feel him groan into you, the vibrations rushing through you to cause you to gasp and shiver as his tongue keeps sliding in and out of you, desperate for your sweetness. You want more, need more, you crave it with every roll of your hips; you want him in you deeply. Unclenching your thighs from his head, you pull his hair, forcing his face from you with a wet pop. 

Miguel's eyes are blown as he keeps them steady on yours, his full lips parted and panting. The sight of his face glistening with a mix of his saliva and your arousal is sinful and complete perfection. His poor glasses are resting on his face, still lopsided from his ravenous pursuit to taste your cunt. Leaving forward, you keep a smile as you hold his cheek; he immediately melts into it. Grabbing his glasses from his head, you toss them to his nightstand; before he can say anything to you, you're leaning forward to bring him into a kiss. His lips and tongue are laced with you, and you can’t help but want to giggle as he groans and leans his whole body onto you, so needy for more. 

With a gentle push to his massive chest, you can change the positions as you now straddle his hips effortlessly. You are slowly running your hands up and down his chest and abdomen, feeling his hair decorating his skin, making your mouth water. As you shift yourself up, you feel his swollen length hanging heavily as you nudge against it. The tip is hot and already pebbling with glistening pre-cum, straining for you to envelope around him. Reaching down, you flick your eyes from his eyes to his length. 

Miguel sure has changed over the years, but his face is so breathless and furrowing with every strained pleasure as you slide your thumb over his cocks slit. Whining so softly, sounding like the sweet nerd you remember. On the other hand, Miguel is witnessing you in a way only his mind had fantasized about. Your smile is no longer so sweet but devious; He wants to push his cock into you so deeply and have you shudder and scream while you gush all over him, But this teasing and taunting… it's mouth-watering. 

Touching his length, you feel the sheer heat of it as you carefully trace over the soft skin, feeling every vein. Tracing over the red weeping tip, you feel him shudder and mumble something under his breath as you grasp him to hold against you, seeing that he measures to your stomach. You can't help but bite your lip in anticipation of the stretch. 

Your eyes flick back to Miguels, “Think it will fit?” you tease.

“I will make it fit…” his rough voice sends a shiver down your spine. 

Lifting to your knees, you line up his tip to brush on your clit, making you gasp as you slip him through your folds. Then finally, you slip him in slowly, feeling his cock stretch your fluttering hole; the stretch is intense and makes you roll your eyes as your back arches. Miguel grabs your ass tightly, bucking his hips to sink in a bit faster; he pants a sorry as you let out a moan and squeeze your hands on his chest for support. Looking down at his beautifully blushing face, you only smile as you sink deeper. 

“So eager, Miggy~” 

All Miguel can manage is a smile as he works hard to keep himself from bottoming out immediately. He so badly just wants to shove it in deeply and rut into you like a damn animal. A groan builds in his throat as he tries to keep himself from whimpering as you continue to sink so slowly. His cock throbbing and stretching your walls as it heats your insides. Before he can manage a whine, you sink all the way down, taking every inch; before either of you can moan, you lean down to catch his lips in a needy kiss, taking control you guide him, your tongue pushes past his lips to taste his groans. While his tongue eagerly does the same. Pulling away from the kiss, you grind against him, relishing in the feeling of his cock pushing in deeper and his trimmed hairs tickling your sensitive skin; you can’t help but bite his bottom lip to compensate for the mind-numbing feeling. 

Miguel's hands squeeze harder, making you release his lip as your cunt to clenchs on him, the moan of his name dropping from your lips as your hips start to grind on him at a slow pace. Using your hands, you slightly push yourself up and rock your hips back and forth, letting his cock slide to bully your gummy insides, brushing your cervix with every nudge. Miguels is mesmerized as he roams his hands over your body, worshiping every inch of your skin with his careful fingertips brushing and rubbing you so tenderly. His hands come to your breast, where he takes a minute to squeeze and pinch your nipples, your whimper in response, and grind harder against his cock, pushing him to rub harder against your cervix.

“You look s-so fucking beautiful…your body, your…tatse…I’ve never stopped thi-thinking of you…” Miguel mutters through pants of hot breaths. 

The words spur you on, and you start to pick up your pace, making him moan out and guide your hips to rock back and forth faster, “Always so sweet…” you coo to him…the words are less taunting but just true; he has always been sweet to you…

“Only for you…” he muses, and you can’t help but smile, 

“Good…” 

You feel yourself starting to sip from having a clear head that's now blurring in a haze of lust as you continue to pursue your pleasure on his girth. Pushing in and out on him quicker. Your hands grab onto him tighter as you ravish your tight pussy with his throbbing cock. Begging for both his and your release. Fucking so deep in you, now your jaw falls slack as his cock keeps pushing against your velvety sweet spot, making jolts of pleasure pulse through your body with every bounce. 

The sweat that has built on your bodies works hard to try and cool your fevered states, but with every push into your cunt and with every clench around his length rousing him to go deeper makes it all in vain. There is no cooling as you two approach your white hot release, bodies only growing more hot and sensitive with every whine and every mind-numbing push. So close to tipping the other to ecstasy…

With a couple of aided thrust from Miguel fucking up into you, your muscles tenase and your mouth falls open in a pitched scream of his name as your danm burst making you clench and shudder on his cock, coming undone on top of him. You're quivering on his length as he carefully grinds you through your drenching pleasure, the feeling of his cock slipping deeper as you eagerly ride him through your high. 

With the way you clench so tightly and grind faster, Miguel couldn't help but feel himself throb and spurt right into your cervix. The feeling of it spurting so thickly, his cock pulsing inside of you, feeling so heavy in you with each twitch. This cum is hot and fills you so that it's leaking down mixing with your arousal, creating a sticky mess. You can't help yourself when you side on more and more feeling your cunt want to stick to his skin. 

Haze starting to clear you fall forward on him, you try to catch your breath in between placing frantic kisses to Miguel's chest and neck. Your orgasm leaves you utterly satisfied, but Miguels is not done…

With a quick turning over your body, you're lying on your back now as Miguel situates himself between your legs. He takes time to look over your flushed form, his massive hands dragging over your sensitive body, and you shiver and buck your hips up. Miguel takes your legs, pushing them up to your chest, making your mew from his touch, your pussy completely exposed to him. Miguel feels his breath catch as his cum leaks out of your trembling puffy cunt in milky drops. Miguel releases one of your legs to fall to his shoulder so he can plam his cock, still erect and ready for more. His red eyes flick back to your blisted-out face, and though you're at the point of overstimulation, you still ache for more. 

“M-Miggy…” you're the one to tremble shyly for him now, and the switch of the roles makes him fold. He’s helpless for you…

Leaning down carefully, Miguel cages you between his massive arms as he places a gentle, sweet kiss on your begging lips. Breaking the kiss, he whispers in your ear so softly, “More? Can you give me more? Perfect girl…let me feel you again…please…” 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling his damp skin, you buck your hips up in your whine of, “More, Please, Miggy ah—I need more of you, always. You are so good to me.” 

He catches your hips in a quick grip as he lifts them up, smiling; it's everything he has ever wanted to hear from your sweet lips. And he is always eager to satisfy you. 

Miguel slips his cock into you with a groan; you're already so sensitive as he pushes down to the base, filling you so quickly that your body already starts quivering around him. Pressing soft kisses to your sweaty skin, he rolls his hips slow and deep. He is taking his time with you. Every thrust is hot and tingling, and you feel that familiar tense starting to build up again from the consistent pace he's set. Managing to open your eyes through moans and rolls, you see Miguel with beautifully flushed cheeks, eyes filled with want as he softly pants and whimpers with each clench of your wet cunt. 

As his pace quickens, you feel him throb, giving you new resolve to meet your hips with each thrust, and your core starts to burn deliciously. Your nails find their place, digging into his broad back. Every slap of his balls to your overly sensitive skin makes you moan and throw your head back. Miguel takes the opportunity to kiss and lick against your neck, his hot breath rushing over you. With a final clench and strained moan, you feel that white-hot wave of pleasure burn through you; his body shudders at the feeling of your cunt, so desperate to cum against him to milk him dry again. His groan borders on a whine as his hips are still, and you feel that familiar throbbing against your cervix as his thick cum fills you up. Looking up at him, you watch his face contort to be in complete pleasure; the sight of it is completely addicting. 

Staying in you till you are both down from your highs, he slowly pulls out his softening cock. The pooling of both of your cum completely ruins the sheets underneath you, but Miguel doesn’t worry about that. He brushes stray hairs from your face and whispers he will be right back. You're too exhausted to move, and you can only twitch slightly as you feel a cool cloth cleaning you up so gently. 

After cleaning you up, you feel the bed sink beside you and the feeling of an arm around you, bringing you closer to his warm body, his other hand brushing through your hair so carefully. You gather your energy to curl into Miguel with a broad smile. You two lay there, slowly drifting away in each other's comfort. 

Clearing his throat, Miguel tries to be as unawkward as possible, and it only manages to make you smile more; you two just had amazing sex, and he’s still nervous; some things die hard, you guess. Looking up at him, you see he’s trying to gather up the best way to approach his next words; this night has been everything he hoped, and he doesn’t want to blow it now, but he needs to know the answer to his question, 

“Can-can I…take you out on a date?” 

His face is completely sincere and flushed; you have to bite back your giggle before you answer. 

“Miggy, about time you asked…” 

You two set the date up for the next night; Miguel, of course, wore his glasses…

[verstappen-cult]

# WAVE OF YOU | CL16

Charles is spending summer in Australia with his friends when he meets a very pretty girl and her dog at the beach.

Pairings: Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader Content Warnings: A little meet-cute, just pure fluff! And Pierre being a menace for like a second.

Gwen’s radio message. . . 💬 : i saw the video and an idea popped into my mind, you can’t blame me for being weak. this is just a little silly meet-cute because your girl can’t stop thinking about surfer!charles. save me surfer!charles, save me !! i’m thinking about turning this into a series, would you like that?

You never thought you’d be living in Australia in your twenties. You honestly never thought about leaving your hometown to follow your dreams. Yet, here you are, sitting on the sand on a quiet morning, playing with the golden retriever you adopted two weeks ago. She comes running back to you, leaving the tennis ball at your feet and sitting, patiently waiting for you to throw the ball again. 

“You never get tired, uh?” She tilts her head, tongue out and breathing heavily. You throw the ball into the water and she immediately runs back for it. 

You take the opportunity to look around. It’s still a little early so there aren’t many people, a few people walking their dogs or running, a few surfers and a group of girls a few meters away. You notice that they can’t stop looking at the group of boys in the water trying to catch waves. It’s funny, because you used to be exactly like them when you were a teen. 

They’re talking and — despite knowing you shouldn’t — you pay close attention to what they’re saying. 

“Last week he smiled at me, I swear!” One of them says, twirling her hair while still straight ahead. 

“They’re so hot.” You try not to laugh, hiding a smile by turning your head around. 

It’s not the first time you’ve seen the group of boys, but it is the first time that you pay attention to what people actually say about them, and that makes you a little bit curious. 

There are five guys in the water, two of them are sitting on their surfboard talking while the other two chase waves. You notice that the fifth guy is actually getting out of the water, blue surfboard under his right arm as he looks at the dog looking up at him and wagging its tail. Your dog. 

“Daisy!” You call her but she doesn’t move, she just looks at you from her spot next to the man. You get up and start walking towards her when the stranger looks up at you. And you stop breathing for a second, face turning pink as you feel bright, green eyes boring into you. 

You agree with the teenage girls about them being hot because this man is definitely very attractive. He’s wearing a black wetsuit, you notice as he runs his hand through his messy, wet, brown hair. He’s also smiling. At you. 

He crouches to unhook the surfboard’s leash from his ankle, leaving it aside, and pets Daisy behind her ears. She closes her eyes and moves closer to the stranger. Your heart skips a beat when he looks up at you again, still smiling. 

“Hey, Daisy? You wanna play?” He has an accent that makes you weak in the knees. The stranger takes Daisy’s ball from between her paws and throws it a few meters away, and she immediately runs back for it. “She’s cute.” You’re very cute, he thinks.

You smile because you don’t know what else to do, still very much feeling frozen in place. 

“I’m Charles, nice to meet you.” The stranger—Charles reaches out a hand, you look at it for a beat before taking it gently to shake. If you feel sparks flying, nobody needs to know that. 

You swallow, trying to find your voice before the cute guy thinks you’re weird. “I’m Y/N and,” You feel Daisy’s nose nudging at your leg. “this is Daisy.” You say, looking down at her.

Charles crouches back down to take the ball again, this time not breaking eye contact, and throws it into the water. You feel yourself blushing — again !! — under his intense gaze. You also feel your insides burning and going crazy with butterflies. You curse under your breath because what is wrong with you? 

“You come here often?” He cringes after saying that and you’re pretty sure you see a faint blush adorning his cheeks. “I’ve never seen you before.” 

“Oh, I adopted her two weeks ago, so we're pretty new to the beach.” You explain, looking over his shoulder at your little golden playing in the water. You’re gonna have one hell of a time trying to get rid of the salt water and sand of her hair. 

He smiles again and what the hell? He has dimples? 

“You’re not from here, right? I can hear a little accent…” He blurts out, massaging his neck in a nervous manner. 

“I just moved here a few months ago.” You laugh, fidgeting with your fingers. “I can say the same thing about you.”

The guy chuckles, shaking his head. “I’m from Monaco. I’m visiting a friend for the summer.”

“Oh, that’s cool!” When Daisy comes running back, you’re quick to pick up the ball — to have something to do besides looking at his pretty green eyes — and throw it farther just because it’s good that she’s running and having fun, definitely not because you want to keep talking with Charles. 

“What brought you to Australia?” Charles asks, like he's genuinely interested. 

“It’s silly, really.” You break eye contact after what feels like an eternity looking into his eyes. “I just wanted to see more of the world. I’ve been traveling for the past two years but I feel like it’s time to settle down somewhere.” Charles nods along, listening to every word. “I don’t know if Australia is the place for me but,” You shrug. You’ve grown and gained experiences, you’ve traveled to places you never thought you’d visit; you are happy with your life. You want to experience a different kind of thing now. “so far I like it here.”

“That’s awesome!” Charles has traveled the world too, but he doesn’t see himself leaving Monaco and his family. But he understands the desire to see new places and discover new cultures.

“Charlie!” 

You both turn your head around to see the boys he was surfing with coming out of the water. 

“Those are my friends. I’m sorry for whatever they’re going to say.”

You laugh, whispering a ‘don’t worry’ just before you’re joined by the four guys. 

“Oi, who’s this?” A dark-haired guy asks, crouching to pet Daisy. 

“That’s Daisy,” Charles answers before moving to stand beside you. “and this is Y/N.”

The four boys look between you and Charles in silence, then they’re all waving at you.

Charles leans a little closer, and you hold your breath. “That’s Dani,” He points to the same guy who asked about Daisy. Then he points to a curly-haired boy wearing a pair of pink shorts. “that one is Lando and the one next to him is Max.” 

“So, how do you find my boy Charles here?” A guy with French accent teases you. 

“And that’s Pierre. Don’t listen to him.” Charles sends death glares at his friend, who just holds his palms up in surrender and grins. 

“We need to go,” Lando or Max? says, looking at his friend with pity and mouthing a ‘sorry’.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N!” All of them say, making you laugh. You wave at them.

Then, you and Charles are alone again, Daisy lying on the sand in front of you.

“So,” Charles starts, fighting really hard not to look at your lips. He does a very poor job because you notice anyway, and of course you can’t help but wet your lips. Well, you have to do something, you’re probably not gonna see him again. “I have to go. But it was nice chatting with you.”

You reach out, placing your hand on his bicep and squeezing. And God, okay, he’s actually fit, fit. 

“It was nice meeting you, Charlie.”

Charles smirks, winking. Or at least trying to before grabbing his surfboard and walking away, it takes you a great effort to not turn around. 

“Hey, Y/N?” 

You’re just a girl. 

Charles is walking backwards, a bright smile dancing on his lips. 

“Will I be seeing you tomorrow?”

You try not to show how much effect his words have on you. “I don’t know,” You shrug. Playing hard to get now, really? “Come and you’ll see.”

[nicoline1998enilocin]

“I fucking love you and that scares the hell out of me!”

I can hear Glen say this, so can you write something with him and this prompt? please and thank you!

I f*cking love you

PAIRING || Glen Powell x Actress!Fem!Reader

WORDCOUNT || ~ 900 words

SUMMARY || You've been working closely with Glen while filming a new rom-com movie, and you two can't help but let the feelings on screen seep into your daily lives. Once your feelings for each other are out in the open, something unexpected blooms between you two, and your intense chemistry is clearly visible, both on- and off-screen.

RATING || Teen (T)

TAGS || RPF. Mutual pining. Idiots in love. Unexpected love confession.

A/N || This drabble is part of Nicoline's Summer of Drabbles. I had a lot of fun writing this story, as it's my first time writing for Glen! I'm looking forward to writing more for him in the future, but I hope you will all enjoy my first attempt at a story for this man. This is not proofread - any and all mistakes are my own. 🤍

Photo: Source || All other graphics are made by @nicoline1998enilocin

Main Masterlist || Glen Powell || Summer of Drabbles

Working together with Glen has been nothing short of a dream, and to be working as a lead in a romantic comedy alongside him is the cherry on top. You have been working hard to earn your footing in Hollywood, and this will be your first major role, which only makes it much more special to be working with your celebrity crush.

However, you don't know that he's harboring the same feelings for you, but he's scared to admit it. While he's open to falling in love, he never expected to find it in you - a sweet, soft-spoken girl who has stolen his heart from day one. He never used to believe in love at first sight, but that all changed when he met you. Your shared moments on set, the laughter you've shared, and the way he looks at you when he thinks you're not looking, all these things have made his feelings for you undeniable.

Glen has invited every member of the filming cast and crew to a barbecue and pool party at his house in Austin, and everyone's having a great time. Still, all you can focus on is Glen, his ridiculously delicious hairy chest, and his beautiful smile, which lights up his features.

"Are you even listening to me, or are you too busy drooling over Glen again?" you suddenly hear a woman say, and it's only then that you're snapped back to reality.

"I- uhm- Sorry. My mind was somewhere else," you admit shyly, and just when you look away, Glen looks over at you, but you don't notice. A wave of disappointment washes over him as his attempts to catch your eye fail - he hasn't been able to stop thinking about them for the longest time - but he's run out of luck.

"Why don't you just go up to her and tell her how you feel?!" Glen's trainer says, and Glen turns a deep shade of red at the thought.

"I- No! There's nothing to tell," he says with a bit of a grumble, but it's pretty clear to anyone but the two of you how the other feels. The chemistry between you two practically jumps out of the screen when you're working together, and while everyone's well aware it's because of your mutual pining, they also wish you two would get it over with. And that same night, it finally happens.

The pool party finished a while ago, and you and Glen are seated on a large couch he has in his backyard, cuddled under a soft, warm blanket as it's getting rather chilly, while watching the stars. The twinkling lights above you reflect in his deep, brown eyes, and the cool breeze ruffles his hair. He's sipping on a beer while you're enjoying a soda, and it's the perfect ending to a fun day.

"Can I tell you something?" Glen asks out of nowhere, and your heart starts to beat faster as he pulls you closer. You hum in response, your eyes closed to enjoy the moment for as long as possible - waiting for the moment he'll tell you that he's in love with someone other than yourself.

"I- I fucking love you, and that scares the hell out of me!" he blurts out, and you immediately sit upright, your eyes shooting open as your gaze meets his. A deep red blush covers his face and creeps down his neck as he confesses his love for you in a way he never would have envisioned. His voice trembles with fear and anticipation, and his eyes are filled with a mix of hope and dread.

"Y- You love me?" you ask, and he looks at the beer in his hands as he nods. He knows he won't be able to look at you as you reject him, but he couldn't be more surprised at the words that he hears next.

"Can you look at me, Glen? Because I have to tell you something, too," you say, and he does after sighing and gathering all his courage. Once his eyes are focused on yours, you're getting lost in the green of his irises, and they remind you of so many beautiful memories you've shared.

"I love you too, Glen. I'm in love with you. I have been for years now, as you have been my celebrity crush for as long as I can remember. You're very kind, and there's something special about you. I enjoy spending time with you, and never get bored when I'm around you-" is all you can say before you're cut off mid-sentence.

The warmth of Glen's palm radiates through your entire body as it cups your cheek, and the softness of his lips makes your nerves feel like they're on fire. Your hands land on his hairy chest, your fingers reveling in the feeling of its coarseness underneath them. And most of all, you're getting lost in his taste.

The beer he's been sipping combined with something so him has your mind going into overdrive, and when he pulls away, you can't help but smile like a teenager who just had their first kiss. You lock eyes with him and see the shimmer in them that you've fallen for. The shimmer that lets you know he's happy and that he's in love with you. One that's only visible when he's around the woman he loves: You.

[aweina]

౨ৎ. CHOCOLATE LIPSTICK ( 17﹢) ; mike schmidt

tags fem reader. enemies to ( ? ). mike is mean + angry. 2-3 year age difference. sexual tension. oral fixation. semi-brat taming + 1k words.

mike was staring at you funny, it made you feel weird — annoyed, actually.

“what?” your voice was harsh, muffled by the sweet frozen yogurt coating your mouth.

he raised a brow at your tone, a little vexed from your sudden attitude. it reminded him of the bratty kid he happened to escort out of a toy store just an hour ago. he’s in a bad mood already, but there was no reason to get mad right now.

“don’t talk with your mouth full.” mike tiredly mumbled. an honest suggestion, but half of what he really wanted to say.

you rolled your eyes at his critiquing words. he always seemed to lecture you about the littlest things. how you’re not as productive during your usual security checks or even that one time he was finding the mall keys during your shared nightly protocols — making sure to make a sly comment and sprinkle in an unneeded suggestion about how untidy your bag was. exactly how an obnoxious parent would.

it was annoying. being treated like a child and especially by someone like mike. so what if he was a few years older? slightly more mature than you, much more responsible, and definitely not hot. just a little bit tho, but you’ll never admit that.

but ninety-percent of the time he pisses you off, and this is one of those times.

you swallowed down the yogurt that melted from your seething irritation, brows furrowed at the snarky comment he had to make about your dining etiquette. it’s a fucking mall food court, not a fine dining restaurant.

“do you always have to be a dick to me?” your words were laced with venom, all the suppressed anger managed to bubble out your throat.

his calloused fingers suddenly stopped twisting on the volume of the two-way radio, usual soft hazel eyes darken to a muted brown, stubbled jaw clenched. mike swallowed back the urge to say a few fighting words at your childish retort.

your tone wasn’t a big deal. well, until now.

his day has already been ruined. parents weren’t so attentive when it came to their bratty children, that meant he had to parent them himself — awkwardly standing until their tantrums fall silent or escorting dozens of children that happen to run off for some ridiculous toy. he didn’t need anymore whining from you, especially about something he’s done without the intention of malice — you were childish, immature.

“i don’t need to hear this right now.” mike was too tired to argue. a heavy sigh escaping his lips, his rough hands brushing away the tired feeling in his eyes. “you’re acting like a kid right now, you know that?”

you swore your blood pressure just went up.

“see that’s what i’m talking about! you treat me like a kid and you have to be a total asshole about it. why?”

passing families and teens curiously looked towards your table, the sudden blast of your agitated voice drawing unneeded attention. just what mike needed.

he turns away from their prying eyes, flustered that he was a victim of your grownup tantrum. mike continues the silent treatment as he listens to your incoherent babbling, colorful words like “old man” and “asshole” passed through his eardrums like a sour tune. the grip of his arm was deadly tight. yet, your pouting made his heart skip a bit. it was adorable, it always has been. but not when it’s accommodated with your high-pitched whines, your brows knitted with all these negative emotions, cheeks redden from breathless insults. the angry look in your face looked so familiar — it was the same look everybody seemed to give him.

all this over a smudge of frozen yogurt on your mouth. he would laugh if he wasn’t at his breaking point.

“fuck, i hate yo – !“ with sudden force, mike grabs you by your chin, the pouring insults latched shut with a firm grip.

the reddish hue on your face that was once from your vexation became brighter from mike’s unusual forcefulness — he has never been this angry with you before. weirdly enough, you don’t hate it.

the chocolate remnants blotched over your cheeks, dribbling from your unwiped mouth, was he pointing this out the whole time?

“watch your mouth.” you didn’t know if he meant the mess you made or your little tantrum session that set him off.

maybe both, you can’t tell anymore.

you both stare at each other for a second, the tension so thick in the air — the invasive looks felt like a blur in the background, or rather, seemingly drawn away by this peculiar exchange. hazy eyes slowly peered down at your mouth, deliciously glazed with chocolate yogurt. it was tooth aching, he could imagine the taste on his tongue. if only he was a little closer, he never had to daydream about this ungodly sight for weeks.

his thumb slowly drags over your pinkish flesh, gathering the sweet residue that coated your quivering lips. he reached over the corners of your mouth, studying every hitch of your breath and the way you nervously fiddle with the plastic spoon. someone so loud, bratty, could be silenced with a single touch.

pushing past your pursed lips and clenched teeth with ease, his sweetened touch swirled all over your taste buds — the subtle hints of sweat somehow tasted sweeter than the chocolate goodness. mike watches you closely, his slacks suddenly feeling tight. you’re letting him do this to you, without a protest or your usual dirty look.

for another second, his fleeting touch brushed against your wet muscle, mesmerized by its softness. the darkness that loomed in his irises vaporized into a soft green, lured by the sight of an obedient mouth. he finally draws away, a string of saliva connecting his cleaned off thumb and your glossy lips. the rigid grip on your chin loosens as mike huffs in mild irritation, mostly out of astonishment from this predicament.

mike stands from his seat, hiding his hard-on with his bunched up security jacket — hand still soaked from your dribbling saliva. awkwardly, he picks up the trash splayed over the table, making sure his car keys were stuffed deep in his pocket.

“i’ll see you tomorrow.” he steadily spoke, seemingly unbothered.

you nodded, mouth still slightly agape.

mike walks off, leaving you with your own muddled thoughts.

out of complete horror, you hover your nimble fingers over your mouth — the taste of his skin still permeates on your tongue. even with how intimate that whole situation was, mike made sure to clean the remnants of frozen yogurt off your face.

the gall to leave you utterly confused, edged by this new side of your usual grumpy coworker. there was a line between guilty attraction and burning hatred towards mike, you were stuck in the middle of it. but your racing mind seemed to linger towards the shadows casting his tired eyes, the focused look on your compiling mouth, the demand in his voice animating your body like a toy. fuck, yeah okay, he was hot.

the ache between your legs seeped arousal through your pants, you thanked your employers that your uniform was black. gosh, it’s been so long since anybody has touched you like that.

you nearly break your skull when your head falls defeatedly on the table — a heavy groan vibrating in your chest.

you don’t know if you could come to work tomorrow.

© aweina : please do not copy, repost, or modify any of my content.

[erenjaegerwifee]

Omg, you write so good!

Can you write something about Neteyam a little possessive about his secret crush towards his human female friend? I WOULD LOVE THAT SJSJSJS

OFC I CAN! This is such a fucking cute idea!!!!

✧₊⁺ Crushing

Paring: Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader

Warnings: 18+, mentions of explicit actions

Disclaimer: my characters are aged-up! If u are uncomfortable reading don’t both interacting with my account

Neteyam grew up with you. From since you were a babygirl he was always around or with you, neteyam was fascinated with your small form. The way you learned to walk long after he did even though you were only months apart.

He thought you were weird at first cause you were so small and not blue like him. You had no tail and no point ears, no golden eyes instead you were kind of dull, the only thing you both had in common was your black hair.

Other than that it was wavy not straight like him, your eyes were a different color from him, your skin was brown? A shade of brown? He didn’t know the name of the color. But one thing he does know, you were absolutely beautiful.

In your teen years when you went through puberty you didn’t think much off it, your body was changing but you changed with it so it wasn’t so shocking to you, but neteyam had a hard time keep his eyes to himself. The way your scent changed slightly every month, your body filled out in ways he didn’t know was possible.

He never knew why you stopped wearing na’vi clothes until he saw you in a little tank top and shorts running around with Yuk. The way you tits bounces in your bra, the way your thighs were squeezed into your little denim shorts, he knew your body would just fall right out of na’vi clothing.

Yet still he found you amazingly beautiful. It was weird but it worked out, he would never get to truly mate with you but his mother already liked you. You were probably the only human girl she allowed around. It was perfect for him yet, Neteyam was so scared to tell you how he felt.

What if you thought he was too big and scary? What if you laughed in his face at the thought of being with him? What if you didn’t like him back? His thoughts pledged his mind, he didn’t want to embarrass himself, he didn’t want to face rejection of the first women he had every loved.

But still, his mind never drifted to another woman. Even his family saw the way he looked at you, like you were his very own gift from Eywa. Neteyam had been the only person that put himself in danger to protect you and no matter how much cuts or bruises he received he was happy with himself knowing he kept his special girl safe.

Neteyam loved the way you tied your hair up, he’d spend hours out of his day watching you style your long pretty hair if he could, and he has a few times. Watching the way you’d make different braided hairstyles or ponytails you called them. He especially loved how cute you’d look when you got mad the Pandora humidity made your hair look like you’ve been electrocuted. He thought it was adorable the way you’d continuously run your hands over your head and nothing seems to keep down the frizzy mess.

He loved your sense of human style even though you didn’t have much to work with the clothes you would make from repurposed avatar clothing when they joined the Omatikaya clan and didn’t need them anymore. Or when you would use big petals and leaves to make cute tops and skirts that always seems to fit your figure perfectly.

Neteyam was undeniably in love with you and he would do anything for you to love him back. Tonight, he walked his way to the human outpost, it was late at night but thanks to the humans moving closer to the clan, your bedroom was only about 4 minutes away from his hut.

Neteyam knows you stay awake all hours in the night so he thought nothing off it when he saw the faith glow through your bedroom window. You had a nice view of the forest from there, it faced away from the clan so people couldn’t see you unless they looked. Neteyam made a habit of checking on you before bed so he went to the window before anything else.

He walked up to it you were in clear view, luckily since your bedroom light was on your window acted as a mirror for you, but he could see you clear as day from outside. He watched you lay in bed in an oversized t-shirt undoubtedly an avatar’s, your legs were bare and shiny, you shaved. Your hair was loose, it curled so pretty over your shoulders and you laid on a big pillow snuggled up to your fluffy sheets and blankets.

You looked like you were drowning under all that warmth you looked adorable. When you got up off your bed and walked across the room to your desk, your back turned to him letting him see the back of your t-shirt.

Neteyam was not prepared. Your t-shirt stopped right under your ass and you bent over to pick up something from the floor displaying for him your pretty pink panties that were riding up your ass just perfectly.

It’s been a long time since neteyam saw some skin on you, it make his cock harden just seeing a sliver of what no one else does. He dropped to him knees by your window sill now only his face was in view, not that you could see him. You were so sexy for a little thing. He wants so bad to lay it down on you.

Neteyam pressed his forehead up against the window starting at your plump pretty ass until you stood back up. Only then did he blink refocusing on your t-shirt and then it caught his eye.

His brain lagged taking in the word he knew all too well, on the back on your shirt was the word big and bold ‘SULLY’ it was undoubtedly his father’s old t-shirt but seeing you sport something with his name on it made him shiver.

You had to be his, you’re literally carrying his name. He swears if you pumped you full of his babies it would be when you had his name written down on your skin, maybe he could convince you to get one of those human tattoos, he had hear they were permanent. He’d love to fuck into you seeing his name displayed pretty on your lower back over your ass, of above your collarbone so he can watch you tits bouce and see his ownership at the same time.

You have to be his. He has to tell you how he feels. He can’t let you get away and fall for someone else no. If Eywa didn’t give him a sign you were meant to belong to him before, she did now. Or at least that’s what he got out of tonight.

Tags: @rivatar @strongheartneteyam @xylianasblog @delusionalwh6re @nilahsstuff @m1tsu-ki @kylimarz @quicktosimp

✨ Part 2 is out! Here!

[muntitled]

Broken Telephones

Ex!Jake x Fem!Reader | Jay x Fem!Reader

Summary: Despite Jay priding himself on being a good friend, he's done denying himself what belongs to him.

Warnings: Language, Obsession, Jealousy, toxicity, Ex Boyfriend's Best Friend to Lovers, Smut +18 (mdni), Squirting, Manhandling Ownership kink, Semi-Public Sex, Exhibitionist Kink, Dubious Consent, Angry Sex, Threats, Dom/Sub Themes, Hard Dom!Jay

Based on this request by @penny44224 . This gets really toxic, sorry, also I couldn't leave my baby Jake out of this, hope you like it <3

“What kind of party is this anyway?” You grumble from the passenger seat, your heart sinking behind the glittery confines of your tight collared shirt. Something so tight and so painfully provocative would never have come out of your own closet. You had Jake and his obscene budget to thank for that.

“The normal kind,” he says, “with drinking and sex and smoke-” before he's allowed to continue his blissful rambling, you interrupt Jake with a raise of your hand.

“Need I remind you that I have asthma?” With a firm hand on the steering wheel, Jake's eyes roll into the back of his head.

“I can't go.” You continue, “That's a health risk.”

“You haven't had an asthma attack since you were 6,” he deadpans, “Do not piss me off,”

It was difficult to do much of anything with a pounding heart and a stomach flooded with molten anxiety. What do people do at parties anyway? You've watched enough low budget teen Netflix dramas to know… nothing good.

"I don't think you understand the words leaving my mouth," The dwindling daylight leaves your bones rattling with anxiety. You were supposed to be watching the sun setting over the river skyline from your dorm room. Your notes on autocracy in a Constitutional Monarchy, pending across the page in front of you, ready for submission Monday morning.

Instead, you find yourself arrested in a leather seat, in a shameless chequered miniskirt. Your exposed thighs are sticky with evening humidity. This is not how your evening was supposed to go.

"I need to be studying-"

You're battling fiercely with a Mr Morale tune oozing through the Jeep's speakers while your best friend remains blissfully unaware, rapping along as if your concerns were null and void.

Kendrick's voice was strong but yours was stronger. "Since I am an unwilling participant, this is technically kidnapping. You are illegally kidnapping me this very second. You are aware of that, yes?"

"Nonsense,” Jake chuckles, “I can't kidnap my ex girlfriend-” before you're able to rebut he quickly adds, “And I am aware that you're going to wake up one day realising your stupid ass wasted your college years studying." Jake shoots back while the chorus sails on without him. This was serious business if he took the time to ignore Kendrick's second verse. "I'm aware that in all our time in school you've done nothing but school. I'm also aware that I'm saving you from a life of complete and utter regret.” His big brown eyes narrow in the dark, and you are corralled into a shameful silence.

“Just don't try to sleep with me tonight-” you grumble under your breath.

“I'm a changed man,” he says, “I've only thought about fucking you only once this whole evening!”

“Oh god…” you shake your head slowly as the jeep assumes a safer speed in a residential enclosure. “These are rich people's palm trees, why am I seeing rich people's palm trees?"

"Because I got invited to an event that classifies the attendance of rich-people-palm-trees." His stoney visage cracks into a lazy, triumphant smirk.

“Rugby team.” Is all he says.

Your hand flies to the door handle, for what purpose specifically, remains an utter mystery. The car is still in motion so you did not have the intention of flinging the door open and hurling your body onto the biting tar underneath.

"Stop being so goddamn anxious all the time-”

“Jake, I don't even like Rugby-”

“No but you like me… and I like rugby… ergo…,” the car slows to a nauseating stop in the middle of a packed driveway.

"Let me rephrase that- Jake your friends hate me-"

"If this is about Jay again..."

"He's never liked me!" You huff, "Even when we were dating it's like he had it out for me or something!" Your shoulders are tense and Jake can't help but send a worried glance over. He ventures to lay his one hand on your thigh but stops himself, placing it instead on shoulder to rub out the knots there.

"You're making excuses. Jay hates everyone," he says, “I need you to forget about school for one night.” Jake's pep talk only succeeds in filling the void of your stomach with even more dread. “You think about dead politicians way too much for a 20 year old girl."

And that's how you end up in the backyard of a frat house as the third accessory of Jake and some unnamed girl. He has his arms wrapped around both your necks as he enters the party, like some glorified university replica of Hefner.

You know in this light, you appeared to be one of his girls, but the thought of weathering this party without Jake on standby filled you with unmistakable dread.

It was as if the soles of your feet were melting into the grass with each step you took towards the bonfire, even more so when you saw him already seated at the edge of a log, watching you approach with a smile that eases into an unimpressed frown. Jay's cup is held in mid-air as he watches you plop down beside him.

A single gold chain is tucked away behind a loose button up and suddenly, you wish to burrow into the ground underneath this log, away from the vulnerability of his gaze. You felt naked.

“You're not drinking.” Jongseong observes, glancing away from you and Jake's hand sliding over your hip bone.

“What’s in it?” You ask, eyes drifting over Jay's solo cup.

“Sugar, spice and everything nice,” he whispers back.

Beside you, Jake entertains the rest of his friends, his fingers rubbing unconsciously into your sides.

You don't seem at all impressed.

“What do you want me to say?” He asks with a slight deadpan, “That I put my love and affection into it? You're at frat house. This is probably 90% alcohol-”

“-And 10% mysterious drugs to roofie unsuspecting girls.” You conclude before making an elaborate show of pushing further into Jake's side. Jay doesn't like that one bit.

“If I wanted you to sleep with me,” his lips tickle your ear and you shiver, “I wouldn't need to get you high out of your mind to do it.”

Something in his words sounded vaguely like a promise.

“You'll just fall in line,” Jay said, “Like all the others.”

Before Jay could get another mind numbing word out, you're quickly standing from your post from beside Jake. “Coming here was a mistake. I'm Heading Home,”

Jake's hand tugs at yours as if prompting you to sit back down.

"Not after the game… C'mon, it'll be fun," you let Jake's words anchor you to the floor.

"Actually, Jake," Even under the moonlight you can spot a deep frown setting across his face, "I think I should go home. I've already had way too much to drink,"

"You've had 1 cup, my dear-”

"And a half," you clarify before shaking your head. ‘and your frjend is making me really fucking uncomfortable,’ you choose to leave those unspoken words unspoken.

You play with the string along the seam of your skirt, humming along to the Drake tune oozing out of the unseen speakers.

“Aww, you really don't wanna join our game?” Jay coos, looking up at you with an incriminating smirk as he clutches his heart as if you hurt him deeply.

“I'll pass.”

“Course you will,” he snickers. “Princess can't bear to stay away from her book too long, can she?’ It's that tone, that fucking that has you lowering

“What…” you swallow thickly, “What game?” you find yourself asking with a dignified huff as you plant your butt on the log in Between Jake and Jay once more. Your bones are rattling with unprocessed rage as Jake whispers, “broken telephone,”

He snickers, “just try to be as quiet as possible,- never thought I'd be saying those words to you of all people-” you sit at Jake's arm as the game begins with the first message travelling from Jungwon to Jungwon’s date. Unbeknownst to you, Jay has been zeroed in on your conversation with Jake all evening-his blood simmering at the sound of you and Jake whispering sweet nothings to each other like people who were still very much lovers.

His jaw clenched as he plants his steepled elbow on his knees, his hands hanging lazily in front of him as he tries to focus on playing the game and not the giggles exchanged between you and your supposed ex boyfriend.

Sunoo finally passes the message into Jay's right ear, a very clear and resounding- ‘there is nothing satanic about pineapple on pizza’- Jungwon’s attempt at absolution from an argument they had weeks ago. But instead of carrying this specific message over into your ear, subsequently bringing the game to a victorious end, he stops midway, watching your laugh aimed at the blackened night sky while Jake looks up at you with that expression that was very much not supposed to be reserved for ex's.

Jay decides to throw the game.

“Your turn,” Jay's voice is dripping in monotony, as if he couldn't be bothered to even talk to you, let alone play this game with you.

Your mouth falls open when he slithers his hand to the back of your neck, leading your head to his slightly parted lips until said lips are tickling your ear lobe. Your heart is sinking into the confines of your stomach and for the briefest moment, you fear the world might have stopped spinning as Jongseong carries his next words in your ear. Game be damned.

“First floor. Third door on the left.” His hand is still planted on the back of your neck as he whispers those words at you and you're immediately struck with the severity in his tone.

You weren't an idiot.

In fact you'd like to consider yourself quite smart.

You knew that whatever Jay confessed - or rather implied - was definitely not the contents of Jungwon’s intended message. A broken telephone indeed.

Still, coiling in your stomach is a confusing web of wired tension that needs to be snapped. All night, your banter with Jongseong had been laced with something far more frustrating, something you needed to get out of your system.

“U-Um I need to go to the bathroom-” you don't know why you're following his orders. You don't know why you're walking steadily towards what you know very well was probably Jongseong's room in the frat house- a lamb to the proverbial slaughter. All you know is that your heart speeds up just a little quicker when you hear him excusing himself from the group right behind you with; “I'm going for a smoke.”

Your mind is hazy with not only fear, but insane unmistakable lust as you make your way up the stairs, surfing between bodies as you make it onto the first floor landing. You can feel Jongseong's oppressive presence behind you. You can feel how anxious he is to get you alone.

And when you enter his room, there is almost no time to regret following orders because he has you pinned against the closed door. The sound of the party is muffled outside but all you're concerned with is Jongseong's palm cradling your throat, his hooded eyes holding something so incredibly angry within.

“What the fuck do I have to do to make you forget him?” His voice cracks as he mumbles drunkenly. You'd never seen someone as put together as Jay, appear so wayward, so driven by inhibitions.

His palm slithers tighter around your neck, too late for your brain to process that you need his hands off.

“You've been taunting me the whole night.”

“Jongseong, I don't know what-”

Your words bleed into a yelp as he pulls you in by the neck to connect your lips in a steering and sloppy kiss.

Once he gets even a tiny taste, all inhibitions are thrown out the window. Jongseong's cock hardens in his pants and he's utterly delicious with lust.

“You're such a slut, you know that?” He mumbles drunkenly, words meshing together, “Might as well have walked in with his fucking collar around your throat like he owned you-”

“Jongseong-” a gasp cracks your throat when Jay forces his hand underneath your skirt, immediately cupping your sex until you are arching your back against the door.

“Oh- fuck- Jongseong-”

A snicker slips from his alcohol stained lips as Jongseong drags you from the door to his window, overlooking the backyard.

“You want him to see what a slut you are for me?” Your tits press against the glass as Jongseong looms behind you, sliding your panties to the side before dipping his fingers into your soaked folds.

“I didn't-”

What you wanted to say before the weight of chasing your own lust overpowered your senses, is that you didn't know just how deep Jongseong's infatuation ran. You didn't even know he likes you.

“All he needs to do is turn around and look up, and he'll see you fucking yourself on my hand-” Jay's other hand reaches over to pull down your top, putting your breasts on absolute display. You're moaning wantonly into the air as you push yourself back into Jay's hand fucking into you and you feel like crying real tears.

“You're fucking soaked. Is that for me or for him?”

“Jongseong I'm gonna-” you're squirting all over his hand, your ass pressed against his front before the rest of the words could even leave your lips. Jongseong is utterly mystified by the sight of you arching backwards against him, body writhing as you come undone right there by his window.

“Fuck,” his voice cracks again, he's utterly pained. “You're gonna do that again, but on my cock this time-”

“Jongseong-” you barely made it a whisper before he's flinging you onto his bed. The springs creek underneath your back as he pulls you by the hips to the edge, manhandling you as if you were nothing but property.

“I saw you first, you know that, right?” Jay mumbles to himself as he drags his pants down to pull his aching cock out. “I saw you first and Jake-” he spits on his hand, jerking his cock above you, “That fucker knew I wanted you first but he hit on you anyway-” Before he can continue in anger, a low groan leaves his throat. “Fuck baby, open your legs just like that-” they snap open on command, you're not sure you're able to deny him anything in this state. And what a state it is: braids hanging around you like a halo, your shirt, a mess with your tits hanging out, all while Jay swipes your panties away to make way for his cock already leaking precum. It's like he didn't have time at all to undress you. He needed to be inside you so fucking badly.

“I'm gonna cum inside, I hope you know-” Jay's eyes roll back into his head as he eases his cock in, one hand pressed on the bed at the side of your head as he hovers over you, “You're squeezing my cock, for fuck's sake-” he ruts into you, creating a burst of friction that has your stomach coiling again-”

“Jongseong- baby-”

“Fucking Christ, don't call me that or I'm gonna cum-” he's soon fucking into you with the urgency and frustration that has been building since you and Jake announced your relationship.

It inked his veins and seeped into his habits, whereby he'd crane his neck back in every econ class, just to get a look at you in 10 minute intervals. He loved you and you just refused to see it.

Having you underneath him now, tits bouncing while he fucked you on his bed- it was all proving too much for Jongseong and you moan at the feeling of his cock twitching inside you.

“I'm gonna cum- fuck you're such a slut-”

He squishes your cheeks together, in a vaguely condescending display of power and kisses your forehead before muttering, “Tell me you're a slut for me and not him.” You clench around his cock at the vaguely animalistic quality in Jay’s voice as he squeezes the base of your throat, bringing you dangerously close to the edge.

“Jongseong-”

“Say ‘I'm Park Jongseong's slut-” say it babe and I'm gonna fucking cum,” you’re already slipping into your orgasm, the pressure in your cunt building into the unmistakable feeling of immense fullness.

You're gushing around his cock as you scream. “Your slut- Fuck! I'm Park Jongseong's slut-”

His nails dig into the skin around your neck and his eyes roll into the back of your neck.

“Oh my fucking god-” your squirt threatens to push his cock out but he fucks you through it, muttering, “My fucking girl,” over and over again to guide you both through the storm.

Once it's all over, you're panting with the weight of your actions hanging heavy between you. He's about to speak but you stop him first. “I didn't know.” You whispered. “If I'd known I would've never been with him. You have to believe that.”

Jongseong collapses beside you, pulling against his chest as his hands pat down your hair, “I believe you.” He says with finality.

[lewisvinga]

la 15 | jude bellingham x fem! reader

summary; that fateful night in london where real madrid wins their 15th champions league and jude’s his first.

word count; 517

warnings; ??none

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03 @c-losur3 @fall-bambi

note; a bit late but KSKDKSLDKDK LA 15!!-&.9&1:9!!!!!! 😭 AND WE HAVE MBAPPE?? a por la 16😋 a quick short one lolllll i didn’t know how to end it pero we move !!

masterlist !

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“The royal rulers of football have reclaimed their throne. There’s to be another coronation in London. Real Madrid are kings of Europe again! 15x and counting!”

Jude swore he felt his heart stop beating the moment the referee blew the final whistle. He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe that he won the Champions League in his first season with the Madrid-based team. He couldn’t believe he assisted Vinicius’ goal. He couldn’t believe that he had the love of his life watching and cheering for him in his home country in the biggest final of club football.

His deep brown eyes filled with tears as they scanned the roaring white crowds. He swore he could feel the stadium shake as the fans chanted in celebration of their 15th European trophy. His heart raced as he kept looking.

He felt a sense of relaxation when his eyes met the familiar pair of eyes he fell in love with as a teen boy. His smile widened, watching her as she hugged his mother while wearing his name on the back of his shirt.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Not until Eduardo pulled him by the back of his shirt to jump on him. He took one last glance back at her as she hugged his brother before he left to celebrate with his team.

It felt like hours had passed before Jude’s family could join him on the field. His parents were ecstatic to see their eldest win the biggest trophy he could win at a club football level. Even Jobe, who tried to be the nonchalant younger brother, couldn’t stop smiling in pride for his older brother.

When Jude finally had his arms around Y/n, he couldn’t let go. His arms were wrapped tightly around her waist. He bent over to be able to hide his face in the crook of her neck, relaxing as he felt her nails lightly scratch his scalp.

“I’m so unbelievably proud of you,” She whispered against his curls as she pressed a kiss on his head. “Doing all of this in your first season here and assisting in the final? I couldn’t be prouder. You are unbelievable, Jude Bellingham.”

He held her even closer if even possible, ignoring all the possible cameras on him. His grasp on her waist tightened as he lifted his head to look into her eyes. “I couldn’t have done it without you supportin’ me every day, my love.”

“C’mon, you were amazing every step of the way. Now look! You helped Real Madrid win their 15th Champions League and you’ve just one your first of many.” She whispered, gently cupping his cheeks with her hands. Her thumb caressed his cheek as she left a kiss on the tip of his nose. “I’m so unbelievably proud of you. I love you, Jude Bellingham.”

Jude gives Y/n’s waist a gentle squeeze before connecting the small distance between their lips. He hums in satisfaction at the feeling of her plump lips against his. He pulls away only for a second to whisper, “And I love you, Y/n L/n.”

[sweetyyhippyy]

Figuring it Out Together. Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader. *Fluff*

Summary: Eddie's girlfriend finds out she's expecting, at 17. She goes to Eddie's to tell him the news.

Word Count: 1.1k

TW: Listen, I love a good pregnancy trope. Teen pregnancy. Reader being scared. Mentions of Wayne smoking. Eddie trying his best, but he needs to read the room. Difficult decision of keeping the pregnancy. Eddie giving Wayne gray hairs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Her throat felt tight as she knocked on the trailer door, waiting on the porch for someone to answer. 

She turned to stare at the green and white van parked in the muddy dead grass off to the side of the trailer, which meant Eddie was home and she actually had to have this conversation with him. 

The door to the trailer squeaks as it opens, making her turn around. 

“Hey, kid. Come on in, it’s freezing out there.” Wayne greets her, opening the door more for her to come in. “You okay? You look like you seen a ghost.” He asks her, throwing his arm around her back to try and comfort her.

She nervously shuffles in, seeing Eddie on the couch with the tv louder than it truly needed to be. 

“Hey, sweetheart. I thought you had an appointment after school?” He gets up from the couch, wrapping her up in a tight hug. 

A few tears roll down her face as she feels him embrace. 

“I did. That’s what I need to talk to you about, Eddie..” She sniffles and wipes the tears from her cheek with her fingertips. 

Wayne raises his eyebrow. He wasn’t born yesterday. He knew exactly what this conversation was going to be about. 

He clears his throat, making both of the teenagers look at him. 

“I’m going to head outside for a smoke. Give you two some privacy.” Wayne grabs his carton of cigarettes and his lighter, looking at Eddie’s girlfriend quickly. He gives her a small nod and a barely noticeable smile before grabbing his coat and walking out of the door. 

“Are you okay?” Eddie asks, rubbing her shoulders for comfort. 

She nervously pulls at her bottom lip with her teeth, trying not to make eye contact with him. 

“Baby?” He bends down to look her in her eyes, his eyebrows raised quizzically. “You’re scaring me because you’re not talking to me. What’s going on? Did something happen at school? Or at your appointment?” 

Her bottom lip quivers as she looks into his dark brown eyes, the dam breaking and fat tears rolling down her face again. She sniffles as she covers her face with her hands, swallowing the sobs she wanted to let out. 

“Wh-?” Eddie furrows his brows in concern, wrapping her shoulders in his arms and smashing her into his chest. “Baby, what’s wrong? Please talk to me. You got me thinking you got told you have six months to live or something.” He presses a kiss to her hair, before letting her go. 

Her eyes were already puffy from the tears, the whites of her eyes watery and slightly red. “Eddie.” She sighs shakily. “I’m pregnant.” Her eyes look up at him, waiting for him to have a reaction. 

His eyes grow wide immediately, his mouth hanging open. After a few seconds of silence, which felt like hours, Eddie sucks in a breath. “Alright… okay…” He nods his head, now chewing on his lip. 

“Please don’t be mad. I’ve been crying for the past hour, I’m so scared. I don’t know what to do.” She sobs, pulling away from him. 

“Wait, I’m not mad. I’m not mad.” He grabs her shoulders softly. “This lands on me too, sweetheart. I’m pretty sure it was my fault anyway.” He sighs heavily, rubbing at the back of his neck. “That night I didn’t have a condom. I was thinking with the wrong head.” He chuckles. 

“Oh my god, Eddie.” She pushes his arms off of her, turning and walking away from him angrily. “This isn’t a joke! We are going to have a child! Do you get that?! A tiny thing that is going to require constant care for the rest of our lives!” She yells, frustrated at how Eddie wasn’t freaking out like she was. 

“I don’t know how else to deal with this without making jokes.” Eddie follows after her. “I’m just as scared as you are. I just… I just want to be here for you. I know this is a lot scarier for you than it is for me.”  

She sinks down to the couch, burying her head in her hands. “Eddie.” She sighs. “What are we going to do? What the hell do we know about having a baby and raising it? We’re kids! We haven’t graduated yet! Oh my god.” She whispers to herself. 

“Can you look at me for a second?” He rests his hand on her back, rubbing it in small circles. 

She drops her hands from her face, leaning back on the couch, still sniffling. 

“There’s lots of people that don’t know what they’re doing and they have kids. We’ll figure it out together. I-if you want to. What are you thinking as far as… keeping it? D-do you want to, um… what do you want to do?” 

“I don’t know… I haven’t had much time to think about it.” She rubs at her forehead. “I mean, what do you think? Do you think we can do this? By the time I have the baby it’ll be May. It’s going to be so close to graduation and finals and stuff. I don’t want to drop out, I don’t want you to drop out. We’re going to have to figure so much stuff out. I have to tell my parents, oh god I have to tell my parents.” She huffs, throwing her head back against the back of the couch. 

Eddie touches her knee, grimacing to himself. Her parents were not a fan of Eddie by any means, and this wasn’t going to win him any points.

“Despite all that… yeah, yeah I think I want to do this.” She turns to look at Eddie’s face. “I think I want to have your baby.” 

 “So, a May baby, huh?” He smiles, trying to make her feel better. 

She rolls her head to the side, looking at him with a weak smile. “That’s what you took from that conversation? That they’ll be here in May?” She shakes her head, huffing out a small laugh. “Do you really think we can handle this? Being parents at 17?” 

“I think we can handle it. We might not have a clue but we’ll be clueless together. And I’ll be here with you through everything, I promise. I’m not going to be some dead beat that’s going to make you do this by yourself.” 

She sighs shakily, putting her hand on top of Eddie’s. “I guess we’re going to do this? Add to the teen pregnancy statistics.” She jokes. 

“Yeah, guess so.” Eddie says, taking her hand and kissing it. “How about we go tell Wayne? He’ll be easier to tell than your parents.” 

“Yeah no kidding. My father might actually strangle you.” 

The door opens, Wayne cautiously walking in. “It’s pourin’ out there. Is everything okay here?” He asks, shaking his damp coat out before hanging it up. 

“Uh well.” Eddie grunts as he gets up onto his feet, clearing his throat. “Do you want to be called Pop-Pop Wayne, PawPaw Wayne, or the classic Grandpa Wayne?” He tries his best to lighten the mood, using his best southern drawl.

“Oh my god.” Wayne and say in unison. 

[i-love-ptv]

Melting 🍹࿐ ࿔.˚

Pairing: Kiara Carrera x Fem!Smoothie/Juice Bar Owner!Reader

Who knew a smoothie could bring a summer of love, Kiara surely didn’t.

Wc: 4,521

Angst if you squint? (Not sure), Fluff, Like 2 sexual innuendos.

An: PHEWW GIRLL….this is a long one. actually the longest fic I’ve ever written. Sorry if Kie is a lil ooc, i tried to do her justice 🌚.

Also!! Reader’s ethnicity n stuff isn’t mentioned, but I imagined reader as a woc (personally!!) it’s totally okay if you’re not, you’re still very much welcome :)

Feedback always appreciated!! xx

Another “are we there yettttt?” is dragged out from JJ.

“JJ, you asked me that five minutes ago, and if you ask again I swear I’m gonna punch you.” Kiara huffs out with a glare to the blonde.

John B purses his lips, “where are we going again Kie?”

“We’re going to this juice and smoothie bar my mom told me about, she basically begged me to go.”

Sarah’s walking with a pep in her step. “Am I the only one that’s actually kind-of excited to go?” She practically squealed.

“Considering that there’s a smoothie truck at nearly every corner in the Obx, yes.” Pope sighed, wanting to just sit down since it was so hot outside.

Cleo wipes the slight sweat off her forehead, “Next time, let’s bring the Twinkie, i’d rather have the shitty air conditioning than none.”

John B’s head snaps to her, looking like he’s about to say something before Kiara’s shout rips through the humid air.

“Right here! This is it!” She exclaims with an airy chuckle.

The group of pogues look at the tiki-style bar, surrounded by tables, some being occupied by other teens and families.

The banner on the shack read ‘Shelly’s Smoothies & Juice’.

“How cliche.” JJ muttered, earning a sharp elbow to the ribs by Sarah.

“Oh shut up JJ! I think it’s cute!” Sarah steps back a bit and takes a picture, Kiara throws her an amused glance.

The pogues get closer to the shack, getting a slight glimpse of all of the equipment in it, and John B rings the bell.

“Uh hello?! Thirsty, sweaty customers here!” JJ yells.

The group all groan and growl at JJ for his outburst, they’re all so distracted that they don’t see you approach the counter from the inside.

“Oh! I’m so sorry for the wait! I had to chase away a squirrel just now!” You yelp out sheepishly, feeling silly for being slightly out of breath, and for not keeping that embarrassing fact to yourself.

The group of six turns to you, their argument dying down immediately.

Sarah steps forward first, locking eyes with you.

“Ooh! Can I get a….Passionfruit smoothie please?”

You smile, taking in account her huge, beaming smile.

“Of course,” you replied, “and what about y’all?”

They each take turns telling you their orders, but Kiara doesn’t seem to care.

She can’t help but stare at you.

The way your lips move whilst you speak, the way your hair is slightly frizzy from the North Carolina heat, the way that your tan lines are peaking out from your shirt. Your lips are slightly glossy, is it crazy that she wants to know what it’s from, but she’s not interested in looking at the gloss itself?

“You okay, Curly Girl?” Your question breaks her out of her thoughts. Now she notices everyone looking at her.

Pope coughs and nudges her.

“Oh..! Right! Sorry, uhm, I’m not quite sure what I want…” She murmurs softly. God what is up with her today?

You gasp with a smile, “It’s totally okay babe! Do ya got any allergies? ‘Cos I’d love to make you a smoothie I think you’d like!”

The brown haired girl whispers out a “no I don’t have any” and you immediately get to work after collecting the money from everyone.

While JJ is resting against the counter talking to you, the rest of the pogues look at Kiara suspiciously.

“Uhm okay..So what was that?” John B asks, while Cleo looks with a smirk.

“You think she’s pretty, don’t you girl?” This makes Kiara sputter.

“What? Well, yeah she’s pretty, like obviously. But like, not in that way!”

Cleo’s smirk turns into a cocky grin, “I didn't say it was in that way.”

Kiara looks at the others for support with wide eyes, but they all just shrug at her, and Sarah slightly grins at her.

She then tunes into the conversation JJ is having with you.

“I’ve never seen you around here before, you new here?”

You let out a loud ‘huh?’ over the noise of the blender.

“I said-“ JJ tries again, which is when you finally turn the blender off.

JJ lets out a charming laugh, “I asked if you were new here. I’ve never seen you around before, and trust me, I would’ve noticed a pretty girl like you.”

“Ugh, JJ, tone it down.” Pope complained.

You giggle at him, showing off your slightly puffy cheeks.

“Nah, I moved here for the summer, ‘till late August with my Aunt Sally, this is her bar! We just finished it up last week.”

You start handing out the smoothies and juices to the others, making sure not to spill any of the sweet drinks.

They sit down at the only other unoccupied table when they see a slightly older woman, pulling up in a navy blue pickup truck.

You jog over to their table and sit yourself down.

“There’s my aunt now! Since she’s here, I can finally take my break” You drag out playfully, you continue, “Oh I totally forgot to ask, is it okay if I sit here? I don’t wanna interrupt anything, but I’d love to get to know y’all!”

They all replied happily, and you made yourself snug between Cleo and Kiara.

The group sip excitedly at their drinks, letting our groans of satisfaction at the taste.

Pope pipes up first, “Wait, so if your aunt’s name is Sally, why’s this place called Shelly’s?”

“It’s a nickname we have for her! ‘Cos y’know that one tongue twister, ‘Sally sells seashells by the seashore’, and now that I say it out loud it sounds…kinda silly..” You finish meekly.

“That’s actually kind-of cute.” Kiara whispers under her breath.

“What was that Curly?” You ask her while looking at her with a glint in your eyes.

Kiara clears her throat, “Nothing! I was just saying how good this smoothie is, mind telling me what it is?”

You beam at this, “Well I can’t tell you, silly! It’s a secret!”

The pogues continue to look at the two of you, some with quirked brows, while the rest look slyly.

“Wait! Before we go any further, I need to know everyone’s names! Mine’s ___, but you can call me Cherry.”

They all introduce themselves, JJ boasts, while Kiara tries to find her footing, but only lets out a timid “Kiara, but everyone calls me Kie”.

You look at her, like you want to say something to her, but Sarah shouts abruptly, “Oh my god, this shirt is so cute! We definitely have to go shopping one day!”

You both laugh and talk excitedly, both talking over one another, but not seeming to care. Cleo eventually joins in too.

Kiara wishes she could, in fact, she doesn’t understand why she can’t. She’s never normally been like this.

With the pogues, she’s normally confident, and sarcastic, sometimes a little cocky too.

But for some reason, she can barely give out a sentence without squealing like a mouse. It makes her sick.

She thought she was bad when she was with JJ, but they didn’t last very long last summer.

But with him, she was still normal, she never acted like this.

She’d be lying if she said she hasn’t done her fair share of questioning her sexuality throughout life, but she’d never tell anyone that.

She honestly just feels pathetic, she just met this girl today.

She doesn’t know what spell this witch has on her, but god, she wants to get to know her.

{what is this spell baby? please show some mercy.}

Kiara’s spent an entire month trying to navigate these newfound feelings. It’s July now, meaning you leave next month.

To make matters worse, everyday she learns something new about Cherry, the timid, but confident girl that makes her a smoothie every single day; speaking of which..

“Hey Curly Girl! The usual?”

“Of course!” Kiara chuckled.

You notice that the group of pogues aren’t with her, you’re not that surprised though, she’s been coming by lately without them.

A part of you is glad that she visits alone, it gives you a chance to get to know her more without the constant teasing from the others.

You can’t help but crave to know every detail about her: what hair products she uses to make herself smell so heavenly, what her bedroom looks like, what her bed feels like…

An enraged shout makes you blink and look around wildly, “If I have to wait another fucking minute for a drink, I’m gonna start breaking every appliance in there!”

You gasp sharply, looking at the tall, burly man that’s spitting his words at you, both physically and figuratively.

“Uhm..Your juice is almost done sir! Just a minute…” You croak, letting out a breathy chuckle, trying to ease the tension in the air.

You have the burning urge to chew this man out for thinking he could come to your business and disrespect you, but Kie beats you to it.

She angrily walks up to him, “Dude, fucking lay off!”

He looks at her in disbelief, his eyes bulging and his nose flaring. You could faintly see a vein start to push against the skin from how he was almost screeching.

“Get the fuck outta’ the way, you runt.” The man starts to grit his teeth.

‘All this over a fucking juice? Jesus Christ.’ You think to yourself.

Kie steps forward, now almost chest to chest with the man as she looks up at him.

She speaks lowly, “The Cameron’s are real good friends of mine, and I can easily have you ran off this fucking island you prick.”

The stranger continues to hold eye contact with the brunette, their eyes boring into the other.

He scoffs, and begins to back up, “Whatever bitch.” He snarls, grabbing his money that you put out on the counter.

Kiara continues her glaring while you finish using the blender. You giggle and look at her amused, “Woah guys, watch out…I think she’s friends with the Cameron’s.”

She snaps her head at this, “Oh shut up loser. He was such a dick, it’s insane.”

“Yeah, he literally had just got here before you did, don’t know what the fuck his problem was.”

“Welllll, you might as well drink it, don’t want the juice to go to waste and all that.” She smirks.

You chuckle, “Wow, thanks for the free drink at my own bar. Here, Curly.”

You hand her the smoothie, and you notice how she accidentally put her fingers on yours, at least that’s what she believes you think. She’s not exactly the sneakiest.

She sips on it and moans in delight, is it crazy how you wish you could hear more of those?

“Will you ever tell me what’s in here? I mean, it’s been this huge mystery for an entire month now. For all I know, you could be poisoning me.”

“Yeah Kie, I’m definitely poisoning you slowly every day with smoothies.”

You continue, “It’s fun, having you guess the flavors and stuff. You’re so determined.”

Kiara groans at this, maybe your wish is coming true today.

“C’mon, just give me a hint.” She drags out.

“Maybe one day Curly Girl.”

August.

Normally, Kiara Carrera loved August.

She enjoys summer, but the feeling of the slight chill in the air, especially at night, as the weather begins to change for the new season, provides her a sense of comfort and nostalgia.

But now, all she can feel is dread.

You’re leaving soon. In two days, to be exact.

You’re going to be leaving her soon, and she hasn’t even told you how she feels.

That’s the thing…She doesn’t know how she feels.

Everything is so different with you, but she can’t describe it, and it’s killing her.

She wants to talk to someone about it, she honestly wants to talk to you, since you understand how she feels.

She only knows this because the night before when JJ had one too many beers at the Chateau, he had blabbered out that he wanted to get to know you, more romantically, that is.

At first, you looked at him like he had grown another head. Then you explained softly, “Oh JJ, I’m flattered sweetheart, really! But, I’m just..Not into guys like that.”

Kiara swore she felt her heartbeat in her ears, and she almost missed how quickly JJ sobered up after hearing that.

He looked like a kicked puppy who was left out in the rain, but Kie couldn’t bring herself to feel bad. In fact, she felt ecstatic at that moment, she couldn’t exactly pinpoint why. Well, she refused to, anyway.

Kiara would go to JJ, given he’s a ‘Chick-Magnet’ - his words - but that would be awkward. John B and (or) Pope would end up somehow blabbing to JJ.

She tried to talk to Cleo, but it didn’t go as successful as she thought it would. All she received was a ‘just go for it!’ As if it were that easy.

So she’s left with no choice.

If you woke up and told Sarah Cameron that she’d have Kiara on her doorstep asking for advice, she would’ve laughed in your face, three separate times.

Although they aren’t at each other's throats like before, Kiara was still a little standoff-ish towards Sarah.

So when Kiara was standing at the front door of Tanny-Hill, Sarah couldn’t help but stand there with wide eyes, mouth gaping like a fish out of water.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry, but I really need your help. I think you’ll be able to give me the best advice out of everyone…” Kiara looked down at her vans, bending her foot around on the steps as she twiddled with her rings.

“Uh..Yeah! Sure! C’mon in…” Sarah hesitated, slowly moving her body away from the door frame, allowing the brunette to enter.

Sarah walks her up to her room, not without asking Kiara if she wanted anything from the kitchen.

Kiara looks around Sarah’s room, feeling a little bit out of place since she’s the only one standing now.

Sarah looks at the girl, “You can, y’know, sit on the bed if you want.”

Kiara meekly walks over to the bed and sits down on the right of Sarah.

“I hate to sound harsh, but what exactly are you..Doing here?” Sarah asked, deciding to break the silence first.

“I need advice..”

The blonde quirks a brow at this,“Go on.”

“So, I think I like this person, but..I don’t know how to

go about it.”

“The Kiara Carrera is getting shy over a boy?” Sarah says out of shock, putting emphasis on her words.

“Ugh, that’s the thing, it’s not about a boy.” Kiara flops back on Sarah’s bed, finding comfort in the soft blanket resting beneath her head.

“It’s Cherry, isn’t it? You like her?” Sarah says trying to mask her happiness, but quickly failing due to the growing grin on her face.

There’s a beat of silence consuming the room.

“… Is it that obvious?”

“To everyone but you, yeah.” Sarah giggles.

Kiara smiles grimly, “Do you think she knows?”

Sarah looks at her with sympathy, “I think so, and even if she didn’t, that kiss didn’t look very friendly.”

The kiss.

While at the Chateau, the pogues decided to play truth or dare at the fire pit.

Cleo had dared you to kiss the person you found the most attractive, and with a bit of liquid courage in your system already, you kissed Kiara.

It wasn’t a quick peck by any means, in fact, it lasted for quite a few seconds, but Kiara wanted more.

Kiara had spent the rest of the night trying to gather her bearings, everytime she would look over to you, she’d see you looking right back at her. You would smirk and tilt your head at her.

“You still with me Kie?” Sarah asks gently, putting a hand on Kiara’s knee.

“Sorry, it’s just that like, everything’s so confusing! She flirts, I try to flirt back, but nothing ever happens! I just don’t get it!” Kiara is flailing her arms around, trying to get her point across, and her sentence trails off.

“Well, you’re just nervous. You really like her, and actually having a full-blown crush is wayyy different than just being a questioning and wondering middle schooler, Kie.”

Sarah’s dragging her finger along the curve of Kiara’s knee, trying to provide even an ounce of comfort for the girl.

After an hour-long talk between the two girls, and a tight hug, Kiara finally made up her mind and figured out what she wanted to do. She just hopes she’ll have enough time.

You get a text from Kiara, she asked you to meet her on the beach, the same beach where she taught you how to surf.

You look at the time on your phone, the 9:20 is practically blaring into your retinas.

You have to be at the dock at 7:45am, so you can get on the ferry.

The fact that your summer is over still hasn’t fully registered in your mind.

The pogues have planned a ‘goodbye’ party for you, and you’re endlessly grateful.

They've treated you with so much kindness, you felt like you were a part of the group.

You’ve made more friends than you thought you would, but you can’t help but wonder if you and Kiara [specifically] would become something more than friends.

Kiara.

Kiara.

Shit, you’re supposed to be meeting her at the beach.

You rush out of your aunt’s house, and ride your bike to the beach.

You were a little confused though, you thought that your party was going to be at the Chateau, that’s what Pope had told you.

After a bit of riding, you make it there, and you see her sitting by herself in the sand.

Kiara cycles her head around and when she spots you, she smiles.

“Howdy Curly Girl.”

Kie giggles softly at this, “Howdy.”

She pats the spot next to her, signaling you to sit down.

You lay your head on your shoulder, watching the waves glisten in the moonlight.

“So..” You drag out while drawing shapes in the sand.

She mimics you, “Soo…”

“Any…Particular reason for summoning me?”

“Uh,” There’s a beat of silence after she lets out a breathy chuckle.

She finally continues, “I kinda..Just wanted to talk to you, I suppose. Since you’re leaving in the morning ‘n stuff..”

“Yeah? You could’ve talked to me at the party babe, y’know I’ll always make time f’you.” You whisper, gazing at her, you find yourself getting lost in her deep brown eyes.

You analyze her face. She looks scared, you don’t think you’ve ever seen her so nervous.

“What’s going on Kie? Are you alright?” You ask, you’re beyond concerned at this point. She’s jittery, and fidgeting with everything in her eyesight, rather than looking back at you.

She takes a deep breath then exhales, “I was gonna tell you to turn around so I could tell you, but that’s just stupid as shit so…”

You look at her expectantly, silently urging her to continue.

“Cherry. I really like you.” She mutters.

“…..Like in a gay way?”

“Jesus Christ, yes in a gay way.”

Nothing comes out of either of your mouths.

“Took you long enough, huh Curly Girl?”

Kiara’s eyes widen, and her jaw almost drops to the sand. “Are you serious?”

You giggle, suddenly finding a rush of energy, “Yes! Oh my fucking god! I’ve been waiting for you to do something all summer. You had me thinking I was gonna go home without a girlfriend.”

Kie swears she feels her heart skip several beats, or maybe they’re doubling, she can’t even fucking tell at this point.

“Who said anything about you getting a girlfriend?” She teases.

You give her your best blank look, unable to keep it long since your body betrays you and you let out a cackle.

Kiara’s smiling ear to ear, laughing with you, when suddenly, you tackle her.

“Stop! My hair!” She yells through laughs.

After continuing fooling around, you both decide its best to head back to the Chateau.

You both get there together, side by side on your respective bikes.

You sneakily intertwine your pinkie with hers, locking it while walking through the Chateau, where you eventually see your friends.

You gasp, standing still with your mouth agape, “You guys!”

There's a banner with ‘See You Soon Cherry!’ on it, the writing isn’t very straight, it’s actually pretty damn slanted. There’s little drawing of different fruits, some smudging due to what you can only assume is paint that wasn’t dry at the moment.

There’s balloons everywhere, and your eyes eventually land on the cooler, knowing there’s a few beers in there for you.

That’s when suddenly, you hear two loud ‘pops’ and multiple colored confetti pieces cloud your vision.

You look to your left and see Sarah, you look over at Kiara and notice John B on her other side.

Your pinkies are still locked, and you’re not the only one that notices.

“Well would you look at that.” John B shouted, making the other pogues direct their eyes to you and Kiara’s hands.

Sarah jumps up and down, clinging to your shoulders, “Holy shit! Holy shit! Did it really happen?!”

You look dead at her, giving her a knowing look with a smirk.

JJ, Pope, and Cleo are rushing over while John B keeps Sarah from doing a cartwheel into a table.

JJ speaks up first, “Wait! When the fuck did this happen?!” He cried out, nearly howling. This makes both you and Kiara shrug.

There’s questions and exclamations flying everywhere, you don’t even know where to begin.

The night carries on, there’s music and lights everywhere above the hot tub.

You keep your drinking to a minimum, not wanting to be on the ferry for hours while hungover.

When you decide that it’s getting late, you declare that you’re going home.

The pogues protest, but eventually, you’re able to convince them to drive you, since your aunt’s house isn’t too far, but far enough to the point where you guys can’t walk.

Kiara walks you to the doorstep while the pogues stay in The Twinkie, they’re trying to pretend as if they aren’t eavesdropping.

“Y’know you still haven’t asked me.” Kiara bites her lip softly.

“Asked you what, Curly Girl?”

“To be your girlfriend, idiot.”

You hum at her antics, “Mm, you’re so needy, do y’know that?”

She slaps your arm playfully, yelling out a “I am not!”

You get down on one knee, being careful of the slightly rocky parts of the concrete, you hold her hands in yours, and Kiara whines.

“No you are not, you are literally unreal.”

You giggle at her, directing a ‘shush’ her way, making her roll her eyes.

“Will you, Kiara Carrera, make me the happiest girl alive, and be my girlfriend?”

Kiara puts her finger on her chin, pretending to think about it, you pinch the exposed skin of her stomach.

“Ah! Okay! Yes, yes I’ll be your girlfriend you loser!”

You get up and hug her tightly, wrapping your arms around her midsection.

She giggles into the crevice on your neck and holds you tightly.

You hear cheers and howls from the Twinkie, but you can’t take your eyes off Kiara.

You squeeze her waist one last time, and send her back to the van, not without her giving you a kiss on the cheek.

You go inside and see your aunt, smirking at you from the living room couch. You roll your eyes and begin to go to your room.

“You better tell me all about her!”

“I will!”

It’s 7:43 in the morning, you’re staring at your converses solemnly.

All of the pogues are in front of you, accompanied by your aunt.

“Are you sure you have everything, Cherry?”

You groan, “Yes, I’ve already told you a million times.” The girls snicker at you, especially Kiara.

“Not sure what you’re laughing at, Miss Thing.” You quirk a brow at your girlfriend. God, it felt so good to finally be able to call her your girlfriend.

She scrunches her face at you at first, but then her smirk drops into a deep frown. She steps forward into your embrace.

“You can totally jus’like…Stay. You don’t have to go home.”

You smile softly against her head, leaving a small peck behind. “I’m sorry my Curly Girl, but I have to

go home. I have to go to college and all that.”

John B pulls Kiara off of you, earning several shouts from the rest of the group.

“Oh shut up, I’m not gonna let Kie hog her before she’s gone for a year.”

He hugs you tightly, it makes your eyes water. He pulls back and notices your pout. “I’m gonna miss you guys so much..”

The pogues, alongside your aunt, gather around you, squeezing you tightly, whispering promises of ‘We’re gonna call and text all the time!’ and ‘We’re gonna miss you so much, it’s never gonna be the same without you’.

“Does anyone know what time it is?” You sniffle.

Kiara immediately whips out her phone, showing the time. It read 7:48.

“Okay so what if it’s not coming, does that mean you can stay forever?” JJ asks, reminding you of a child on Christmas morning.

You look over and see the ferry slowly coming towards the dock.

“It’s here JJ..”

“I know..” JJ pouts.

Cleo shouts abruptly, “Wait!”

She picks up the bag off the dock, nearly forgetting it.

“All of us put something of ours in it, so you can remember us!” She smiles warmly at you.

Your cheeks hurt from smiling, especially when Sarah swats your hand when you go to look inside the bag.

“You can’t look now, silly! You’re supposed to wait until you miss us.”

“Oh my god whateverrr.” You trailed off with a laugh.

The ferry officially stopped moving, signaling that it’s your time to go.

You look at the ship, and look back at Kiara.

You grab her face with both of your hands, stroking gently while she bats her eyelashes at you.

“You’re the reason why I had the best summer of my life. I love you Kiara.”

“I love you more ___.” Kiara croaks.

You grab her left hand, slipping off one of your rings, and putting it on her finger, you kiss it softly.

She pulls you into a passionate kiss, holding your head in place, like she’s not ready for you to go yet.

You pull back slightly, making sure you're leveled with her ear.

“Cherry and coconut.”

Kiara pushes your face back so she can look at you properly, “Huh..?”

You wait a second, watching intently as it slowly dawns on her.

You leave a kiss on her nose, and begin to walk towards the end of the dock.

Kiara faintly hears shouts of “We love you!”, her hearing’s fuzzy, and all she can focus on is you.

Cherry and coconut.

The recipe to the smoothie of love.

[beautifulfaaces]

Callie Haverda

Facts

February 22, 2007

American actress

Filmography

Leia [That '90s Show: 2023]

Olive [See Plum Run: 2018]

Sierra [Stage V: 2016]

Sierra [The Adventurse of Pepper and Paula: 2015]

Appearance

dark blonde

brown eyes

Roleplay

playable: child, teenager

[trashmouth-richie]

this comes from @serasvictoria with this ask the prompt words were: pillow, caught, crush

18+ no minors, angst leading to smut, vulgar, eddie talks about his dick and steve’s 😌

2.1k // eddie x fem reader

your ex hears you’ve moved on; is he ready to let you go?

send me a prompt!

“Don’t be a dumbass.” 

Ringed hands were folded together, glistening from the makeshift dramatic lighting in Gareth’s basement. 

In the summer, Hellfire moved locations from one member's place to another, rotating every Friday to a different place. A new aroma to tickle one’s nostrils upon entering whichever home was the designated spot for the evening, to host Hawkins very own hell bound teens. 

Some homes were kept nicer than others, while Eddie’s trailer smelled like stale cigarettes and bong water, the Sinclair’s living room was pristine with updated furniture, smelling of warm vanilla and the smell of dinner still lingering in the air. 

Gareth takes another gulp of Mountain Dew, wiping the lime colored beverage from his lips. Belching on the spot. 

“Why would I lie about that?” 

Eddie shifts in the folding chair leaning forward— the chain from his waist clinking on the metal, “whatever man, don’t fuck with me.” 

Gareth grins, hands up in surrender, “listen dude, I’m just telling you what we saw,  no need to shoot the messenger.”

What Gareth and Jeff had seen weighed heavy on their minds. They had even contemplated on keeping it secret. The two couldn’t decide if Eddie should know or if it would hurt him— in the end Gareth opened his big mouth and blurted it out, in the most repugnant way imaginable. 

The painted tin container used to hold dice was crushed under the weight of Eddie’s fist as he hammered it onto the table. 

Jeff shook his head, sucking in a breath between his braced teeth, looking away from the soon to be manic Munson. 

Eddie’s temper ran hot when it came to one thing—and one thing only, you. 

Raking his fingers through his scalp, he kicks the back of his chair upon standing, ragged breaths in and out, eyes to the ceiling. You still had a hold on him, it had been months—and the only one who seemed to not be able to move on was him. 

He chuckled, pinching the inner corner of his eyes and shaking his head, “one of you take over as DM, I gotta go.” 

Bounding up the stairs before he could hear any bitching from his two longest standing friends, the carpeted steps squished under his quickened boot steps. Stealing a cookie from an iridescent colored decorative plate on the kitchen counter, Eddie stomped out the front door and to the paved driveway, starting his van with a flick of his wrist, pedal to the floor as he reversed onto the street, running over flower beds in his wake.

—

The daffodil warmth of the sun was high in the sky, a small stitch of wind blew the blades of grass gently, feathering the soft pages of your book every so often. 

It was a perfect summer day as you laid out on your driveway, ass parked in a tiny kiddie pool from your youth, blue in color, the flimsy plastic circle was filled with cool water straight from the hose. 

A few shots of spiced whiskey danced on your tongue and tangoed with the carbonated bubbles of the mixed in Coke, fizzing with each slurp from your straw, you don’t have a care in the world. 

Admiring your freshly painted nails in the pastel bubble gum shade he had picked out— it was a stark contrast to the ruby reds you had been accustomed to— but those days were long gone, and things were finally starting to look up for you. 

It had been four months since Eddie broke things off, claiming he needed ‘space to find himself’ and although you spent a majority of that time wallowing in ice cream containers and mopping up tears when you saw a brown set of curls, or heard the jingle of a chain wallet— you moved on. 

He wasn’t from Hawkins. Didn’t know of Eddie at all, and you preferred to keep it that way. You were never ashamed of the boy you loved for so many years, the only embarrassment you felt was the night he ended things like someone would end a call after placing an order for pizza. 

Like it meant nothing to him, like you meant nothing to him. But that was then, and you were happier now.

So when you looked up to see Gareth’s wide eyes staring in shock was not at all how you imagined your date would go. You had been caught red handed by his best friends, and you knew it was only a matter of time before he found out. 

Toes twirling in the water you bobbed your head along to the music playing on the portable radio, sunglasses perched on your nose— not a single care in the world. 

Until the music turned to something more familiar.. the screech of guitars and aggressive tempos, you could practically feel the warmth leave your skin as the dark cloud of Eddie’s van cast its shadow on your skin, parked in your driveway like he belonged here. 

By the way he tore around the corner and through the stop sign— you knew he was pissed. The clunk of his rings scraped against the paint as he reached through the window to open the door—still broken. 

“I don’t smoke anymore Munson, but if you’re offering freeb—”

“Who is he?” he interjected, in no mood for your joking tone. 

Sucking your drink until the ice clinks together at the bottom—whiskey making you ballsier than you ever had been—you finally answer, “Who is who?” 

He crosses his arms, trying to stay calm, although all he wanted to do was scream, “the guy, cmon princess, don't play dumb with me.” 

Staring at him you can’t believe the audacity of the boy standing in front of you, coming here, demanding to know what’s going on in your life when he’s the one who practically skipped on his way out of it. 

instead of stomping around and causing you a scene, you simply ignore him, “you’re in the way.” 

“Huh?” 

Pointing with a lazy finger to the sky you watch as his eyes follow, “don’t tell me you came here to bitch me out, you’re wasting your time.”

He leans in over your body so close that you can see the chocolate color of his eyes, eyes that you'd lose count of the times you’d stare into them. 

“I’m not leaving until you tell me who he is.” 

“Okay.” You say nonchalantly, unbothered. 

“Okay?”

“Yeah go ahead, stay. ‘s long as you want,” you push yourself up from the pool, standing in a string bikini that matched your nails, “I’ll be the bigger person here, and I’ll leave.” 

Water dripped down your thighs as you walked to the front porch and pushed the door open, ready to slam it shut and twist the lock upon entry—but a dark boot prevents your dismissal.

Rolling your eyes you try to kick his knee to get him to move but he wouldn’t budge, and you huff in annoyance. 

“Pretty sure this is harassment.” 

You ignore the way he walks in your house like he knew his way around, even though he did, your house was a second home to him for years.

Shutting the door with dramatic flair, Eddie leans into your space, inches from your nose, “just answer my question sweetheart— and I’ll be on my happy little way.” 

“You’re deranged if you think I’m telling you anything.”

He cocks his head and laughs like a jerk, mocking you.

“Thata more than likely, but I know better than anyone,” his eyes undress you, fingernails skating across your thighs, “how much you like it.”

You turn and shout over your shoulder, “go home Eddie— I’m not in the mood for this!” 

He barrels around you, demanding your attention. 

“Aww you’re not in the mood?” his voice dipped to a gravelly bite of anger as he put his hand over his heart, “my sincerest apologies to your feelings baby…but I somehow don’t give a fuck about your little feelings when I find out from Gareth that you were sucking some guy’s dick in the Starcourt parking lot.” 

Your face heats in embarrassment and Eddie’s eyes are glassy, coated with pain. You never wanted to hurt him, never wanted him to look at you the way he is right now. 

“Ed—” 

He smirks.

“I think it’s cute…honestly, still doing the same shit you did with me…” he moves to brush your cheek with his thumb, “I’m flattered.”

“Get out,” you bite back, making to shove him to the door but you’re no match for him. 

“D’dya swallow for him like you did for me?” 

“Get..” 

“He bigger than me?” 

“…out!” your shoves are fruitless against his broad shoulders.

“Last I checked Harrington was the only one who had me beat… unless you’re fucking him too.”

The slap startled him, but he knew he deserved it. The torment in your eyes was fueled by his words and he fucking hated himself for making you feel that way. 

He was hurting too, body shaking with rage and swallowing tears the whole drive here. But, when your tears fell on the apples of your cheeks— all his pain turned to gloom. 

“I’m sorry— I— That was a dick thing to say.” 

“Do you think getting over you was easy for me?”

“I don’t know.” 

“It wasn’t.. and truthfully I don’t think I am yet, but what fucking choice did I have?!”

“Babe—.” 

“I loved you, Eddie… I still fucking love you. Why isn’t that—”

His large hands clutch your cheeks, warm lips press into yours with a magnetic force you had forgotten about. Eddie’s tongue tasted like the tobacco spice of a camel, and a subtle hint of mint, and you devoured it like you were starved. 

He whispers and groans how he was so stupid, a real dumb mother fucker, and that he never should have ended it. 

Accepting his apology—for now—you pull him towards the couch, heels rocking on the carpet until they hit firm on the plush sectional, still lip locked with the man you swore, that you hated to your friends but your pillow heard a different plea ever since he broke your heart.

His arms wrap around your waist, fingers daintily pulling the string from your bikini bottoms until the soft fabric hits the floor.  His Hellfire shirt joins them before you both collapse into one another on the cushions, Eddie’s hair draped into your face hiding you both away from consequences and the reality of bad decisions. 

He breaks away from your lips to lick up the slope of your neck, and your head angles back in ecstasy. His body temperature was like fire against your skin, curling your legs around his back you couldn’t get enough of him. 

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” Eddie grooaned, grinding into your naked cunt, his tongue kitten licking around your neck, working his signature hickey into your skin, “my angel.”

You moan feather light in his ear, fingers twisted into his curls. His hand works down your front, sliding between your slick folds with skills you swore only he possessed. 

He played your body like a guitar, knew how to tune you up, the proper way to hold you. A true expert of his craft— your pretty little noises would harmonize from the simple touch of his fingers, your sweet cunt clinching onto him like vice. 

“Missed that sound,” he chuckled, his bangs pushed up from the angle on your neck as you came undone, “so pretty like this… drunk on how I’m making you feel.” 

Your eyes were pinched shut, chest heaving from the breath shattering orgasm you haven’t had since you got dumped by him. Nobody came close to the way Eddie could do it.

Kissing him square on the mouth, you twist your tongue with his, massaging them together as if a flame could spark from the pink wet muscles.

Intimacy with Eddie felt like home, like a warm blanket straight from the dryer when you were freezing. A cup of soup to soothe an itchy throat. 

He melted into you, collecting each gasp you choked out with a kiss from his lips, doing a poor job of hiding the smirk on his face when your breath was stolen from his pistoning hips. 

New— but entirely the same, your bodies fell back into each other like no time had passed and he made up for what was lost, twice. Each time your cries rang out like music to his ears— his favorite song. 

You slept now, adjusting to his arm wrapped around you, a kiss to your forehead, and a new plea in your pillowcase— for Eddie to stay, forever. 

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Simmer #6

CH6. Spilled Milk | The Menu [4.3K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.

The diner was busy. 

Too busy. In fact, it was chaotic. An unusual brunch time rush on the hottest Saturday in August. The first in the month and the official marking of your two month birthday at Jim’s Grill. Not that it mattered, no one was able to celebrate it, not even yourself. 

A greyhound and a private coach had pulled into the parking lot within ten minutes of each other, tourists pouring out of them in big families, clusters of hikers, campers and back water town enthusiasts ready to order everything from the menu. Jim had lit up at the sight, the bell above the diner door jingling over and over and over again, before the man looked at Eddie through the hatch and his face fell into a panicked expression. 

“Shit.”

Steve was already smiling until his cheeks ached, his customer service voice ringing out through the din of the crowd as he tried his best to get everyone seated, him and Jonathan pushing tables together to cater for the family that arrived with seven kids in tow. 

Jim was on the phone in his office, barking out orders before they turned into pleas, the garish orange receiver clutched between two hands before he closed his eyes, mouthed a prayer and then pumped his fist in the air. Twenty minutes later, Dustin Henderson was storming through the diner with two other teens trailing behind him, looking far more begrudging about whatever they’d obviously been roped into. 

Hopper handed them aprons and promised, “cash in hand at the end of the night and an extra twenty if you get through this without breaking anything.”

A deal was made and soon, a red headed girl called Max Mayfield was flying between tables on bright green roller skates, bussing tables with a bored expression on her freckled face. Behind her, Jonathan’s little brother Will was delivering trays of drinks, narrowly avoiding Dustin as he brought Eddie’s famous stacked burgers out by the dozen. 

It was chaos. It was too warm, and god, it was so loud. But fuck, the tips were great. Your apron was stuffed with bills and order tickets, your fingertips red from the amount of times you’d caught them between the metal clips you hung them from above Eddie’s station. It was too busy to talk, to chat and flirt quietly in this new way you’d both grown brave enough to do. The boy was frazzled, side by side with Argyle by the grill as the flipped patties and fried eggs and bacon, a new batch of rolls dangerously close to burning in the oven. The timer was screaming, something else was buzzing, the workstations were the messiest you’d ever seen them and there was a puddle of spilled milk by the door. 

“Door! Behind!” You yelled out amongst the noise, eyes wide at the orders sitting by the hatch still to be delivered. Nancy and Robin were taking plates six at a time, hands and arms full, their balance nothing short of impressive. “Eddie, sorry, but table six wanted extra hash browns with their brunch combo not an egg—”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence before Eddie was taking the plate from you and sliding the perfectly fried egg into the trash. He barely looked at you, something you tried not to frown at because his mouth was set in a strained line and there were beads of sweat gathering at curls on his forehead. “Argyle, time on those hash browns?” Eddie barked, eyes still on the burgers he was placing cheddar slices on top of. 

Argyle was scraping crispy potato pieces around the griddle, salt and pepper and some other spices poured on top as he worked at breakneck speed. “Three minutes, chef,” Argyle called back and Eddie grunted in return. 

You felt stupid, standing there aimlessly with a customer's plate in your hand and before you could get out of the way, Eddie was moving you himself. Big, wide hands on the tops of your arms, guiding you out of the path of the door just before Steve burst through it. He narrowly missed the spilled milk. 

“Door!” He yelled a fraction later than he should’ve. Eddie glared at him. “Corner! Fuck, where’s the fucking syrups? Eddie? Ed! Where’s the syrup!”

You watched Eddie squeeze his eyes shut before he groaned, killing the heat on the grill just as Argyle appeared at your side to slide the freshly cooked hash browns onto the plate. You smiled, grateful. “Thank you.”  

“Open your fuckin’ eyes, man! They’re on the shelf!” Eddie was furiously wiping his hands on his stained chef whites, a dish towel tucked into the ties of his apron as he started assembling burger after burger. 

Bun. Sauce. Patty. Cheese. Bacon. More sauce. Lettuce. Pickles. Tomato. Fried egg. Perfect yolk. Crispy onions. More sauce. Bun. 

“What shelf?!” Steve yelled back, the pantry contents rattling as he pushed his way past huge bags of sugar and jars of homemade jam. “Eddie, it’s not fucking there!”

Robin barged in the door, not announcing her arrival to anyone and the edge of it slammed Argyle as he walked past carrying piles of grease filled frying pans. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry dude!” Eddie glared at her. “Door?” She said weakly. 

“Why is everyone in my fuckin’ kitchen!” Eddie yelled and diners closest to the hatch peered in at him, disapproving expressions on their faces as their kids with ketchup smeared chins laughed. “Buckley! What is it?”

“There’s like, seven tables asking for maple syrup. Where is it?”

Everyone groaned, eyes rolling and Eddie threw his hands to the ceiling. “It’s on the fuckin’ shelf, but Harrington is too blind to see them. Christ, Argyle, start getting these burgers out, Harrington fuckin’ move man—”

It all happened a bit too fast, that’s all. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, not really. Just a classic case of spilled milk. No need to cry over it, right? That’s what they said. 

Argyle dumped the pans into the sink with a crash, slipping between you and Eddie’s workstation as he tried to get to the burgers before they went cold. Eddie was pushing past Robin to get to Steve who was still arguing and well, Robin might’ve stepped forward at the same time you stepped back to avoid Argyle. Plateful of hash browns held high, you tried to stop them from falling. You tried not to elbow Argyle in the face and god, you tried really hard not to completely crash into Robin despite the way her shoulder caught yours. 

You stepped back again, someone yelled ‘door!’ and the sound of Max’s roller blades ripped through onto the kitchen tiles, sending everyone into a loud panic. Your foot found the puddle of milk, sneakers slipping through the liquid and the inevitable happened. 

There was an awful crack when your head hit the worktop on the way down. Ass hitting the tiles, a horrible spine numbing pain licking up your back. The bones in your hips tingled with it before tears sprung to your eyes as a searing pain set in everywhere at once. You heard the kitchen go quiet for just a second, a blissful peace before the plate you’d been holding finally joined you on the floor and smashed into a hundred different pieces. Argyle’s perfectly crispy hash browns skittered under the workstation and you heard someone swear. 

Then everyone was clamouring at once, hands hesitated to touch you as you brought your own to the back of your head and held it there. There was a strange kind of heat to it that made you hope it wasn’t blood, but you were too scared to look. Milk seeped into your wrinkled sock, your legs splayed out in front of you like a forgotten doll, but you didn’t feel half as pretty as one. You gazed mournfully at the smashed plate and couldn’t help the way your bottom lip twisted and trembled. God, your head hurt. 

“Oh my god, are you okay?”

“I’m sorry, shit— I’m sorry, I should’ve said I was coming in, right?”

“It’s fine Max, it’s not your fault—”

“How many fingers am I holding up? Can you stand? Hey, who’s the president—?”

“Lil’ Chicago slice got laid out.”

“Everyone move.”

Eddie’s voice rang out the loudest, clear and gruff with an authoritative tone that bordered on scary. Everyone listened, the kitchen and its team quietening down again when they all saw how you winced at the noise. Eddie pushed past Steve, and Robin, dropping down to hunker next to you. His brows were stitched together with concern and he tutted softly at the tear slipping down your cheek. You hadn’t even noticed, but his thumb brushed it away before anyone else could see. 

He murmured your name and it sounded like a question you were supposed to answer, so you hummed, face scrunched up as more sharp needles of pain prickled at the back of your skull. Your hand was still pressed to it, scared to let go as if your whole head would simply roll off of your neck. 

But Eddie’s hand curled around your wrist and he tugged gently, murmuring words of nonsense that were nothing more than soft placations. With a bit of coaxing, you let him take your hand away and you slammed your eyes shut before you could look. No one hissed or gasped, so it seemed safe enough. 

But still, you asked, “there’s no blood, right?”

The boy gave you a soft smile as everyone circled closer to peer at your hand. “Nah,” Eddie told you reassuringly. “No blood, you’ll live.” Then he was cupping your chin in his hand, thumb pressed to the corner of your mouth and his brow wrinkled with more concern. “Can I take a look though?”

You wanted to say no. All this fuss and attention was making you feel too hot, embarrassment from falling starting to roll in with the pain and it mixed in your stomach to create an awfully uncomfortable concoction. Steve and Robin were still gazing down at you, eyes wide with shock and Max looked stricken with guilt, as if she thought her coming into the kitchen unannounced caused this. Argyle was already moving between everyone, sweeping broken pieces of plate and squished food out of the way. 

But you nodded and let Eddie peer at the back of your head. His hands gentle as he turned you this way and that, parting your hair so he could look for any cuts. He whistled at the sight of a bump and ran his thumb over it softly. You winced and he murmured a sorry before squeezed your knee, a comforting thing that Robin raised her brows at. 

“Think you can stand?” Eddie asked. 

You didn’t get a chance to answer, because Hopper was bursting through the doors with a red face and seven ticket orders clutched in his hand. “Why is half my staff on the kitchen fucking floor?” He yelled. “It’s crazy out there! What’s going on?”

You brought your knees to your chest as Steve explained what had happened, gesturing to the puddle of milk, the broken pieces of plate in the trash. Eddie didn’t move, didn’t take his eyes off you, even when you winced in embarrassment and tried to hide your face in your hands. 

You heard Jim sigh and then he was clapping his hands and demanding that Steve and Robin went back to the dining floor. “There’s four tables waitin’ for coffee, never mind food, c’mon! And Max— Jesus, Maxine, take those skates off before someone else ends up with a concussion.”

Argyle was sent back to the grill before Hop patted Eddie on the shoulder and told him to do the same. Eddie screwed up his face, confusion wrinkling his brow. “What? No, Hop, someone’s gotta take her home.”

“Ed—” you started to interrupt, mortified at the idea of causing an upset. 

Hop laughed, not meanly, just amused. “And what? You think you should be the one to take her, Casanova? You’re the only guy I got here that knows how to cook an omelette, you’re not going anywhere Munson.”

Eddie’s ears burned with the quip, cheeks flushed pink and he scowled at his boss, uncaring about the repercussions. But his attention was quickly stolen by you as you made an attempt to move, standing shakily as you protested that you were fine. The boy scoffed, holding your forearms so you could grip his, knuckles white as the shock of it all set in. 

You did feel a little dizzy. 

“She’s not going back out there to take orders,” Eddie told the older man as they both looked at your peaky expression, your glassy eyes. 

“Well, I ain’t got the bodies to get someone to take her home, kid,” Hop shrugged regretfully. “Wayne at the garage?”

“Fishing trip,” Eddie answered sourly. “Here, c’mon, sit down, yeah?” He guided you to the stool by his station and helped you onto it, eyes filled with concern as you clutched the edge of the worktop and closed your eyes. “Should we be callin’ a doctor?” Eddie asked Hop. 

“Don’t you dare,” you managed to bark at him, even though your voice sounded shaky. “I’m fine. I’ll just, I’ll just sit for a bit.”

You couldn’t hear what the two men were whispering about, but embarrassment told you it was most definitely about you. You only looked up when someone set a glass of water in front of you and you smiled in thanks at Argyle before he squeezed your shoulder and went back to flipping pancakes. 

“Drink that, please,” Eddie mumbled softly as he appeared by your side. Hopper had left, standing awkwardly in the middle of the diner instead of his office as he wrote down orders listed off by a frantic Nancy. “Okay, we’ve come to an agreement.”

You snorted into your glass. “We have?” You asked as you wiped at your lips. 

“Hop’s gonna take over and I’ll drive you home when this place finally calms down. Or we run out of eggs, whatever comes first.”

You rolled your eyes but the action was fond, just like the smile on your lips. You could barely bring yourself to look up at the boy for fear of giving too much away in your gaze, but when you did, you saw the same softness in Eddie’s own expression. “You don’t have to do that,” you told him. “I’ll just sit for a bit and then walk home.”

Eddie snorted and began chopping slices of tomatoes at a speed your eyes could barely keep up with. “No you fuckin’ won’t,” he told you. “Part of this agreement was that you park your cute ass where I can see you. No passing out in the walk-in, alright?”

You tried not to dwell on the compliment too much. Weeks had passed since the night you’d gotten high with the boy, too close on his bed, too close to doing something that was interrupted. You’d been back to the Munson trailer since, but you spent evenings on the sofa with both Eddie and Wayne, yelling at Alex Trebek and trying out new dishes that Eddie created for late nice dinners. No other attempt at a kiss - if that’s what had been about to happen. No other attempt at asking for a date - if that’s what the boy had been about to say. 

“Are there any other conditions to this agreement?” You asked, wincing when Argyle dropped a pot into the sink. “Or did you just sell my soul to Jim without me knowing?”

Eddie laughed as he threw some mushroom halves onto the grill, dropping in some butter until they sizzled. “Sweetheart, c’mon now, you did that yourself when you agreed to work in his hellhole.” Eddie moved away just for a few seconds, long enough to return with a new glass of ice water that he replaced your empty one with. “But he did say you’re not allowed to sue him.”

You smiled, laughing weakly because your head still throbbed and the diner was too loud but Eddie Munson was grinning at you with his dimples on show and a stray curl falling into his big, brown eyes. 

“Damn,” you tried to joke. “There goes my plan.”

—————

You’d been slumped on the stool for the best part of two hours before someone roused you from your semi sleeping state. Heels of your hands pressed to your closed eyes, the sounds of the diner sounding further and further away as you let yourself be lulled into haze by the sounds of Eddie and Argyle talking over the sizzle of the grill, the popping of bacon, the whir of a whisk. 

Then, a palm on your back, wide and warm. You startled only slightly, sitting up and reappearing from behind your hands to see a bowl of soup being slid in front of you. A deep red, flecked with cracked black pepper and smelling like tomato and basil. There was a swirl of some cream in the centre, artfully placed, and a spoon was dipped into the middle of it. 

“Eat up,” Eddie instructed softly. “Then I can try ‘n’ find you some Advil or somethin’, Nancy probably got some stashed somewhere.”

You eyed the soup with a sudden greed, mouth watering at the aroma, your fingers finding the spoon. “You didn’t even ask if I was hungry,” you gently scolded the boy. 

Eddie knew what it meant. ‘Thank you. You shouldn’t have.’

“Don’t start,” he grumbled back, already going back to cracking more eggs into a bowl. Only six this time, which meant service must’ve been slowing. “You’ve had a coffee and half a slice of toast all day, eat your fuckin’ soup.”

You knew what that meant too. ‘You’re welcome. Please eat, so I stop worrying.’

So you ate and Eddie made omelettes, folding each so meticulously that you couldn’t help but watch. Butter on top, chives diced, fresh tomato and Italian ham in the middle. He knew you were staring, he always did. But now he smiled instead of scowled, let his gaze flicker to you every time he put his knife down and he nodded appreciatively when your spoon scraped the last of the soup from the bowl.

“Good?” He asked like always, sliding the omelette dishes out of the hatch for Steve to deliver to the waiting tables.

Jim was back in the office and the younger kids were long gone, sent home with leftover doughnuts from the pastry cabinet and an extra twenty in each of their back pockets. Regular slowness has resumed. Only Mr Creel sat at the bar, under the television as always, nursing a lukewarm cup of coffee he wouldn’t let Jonathan refill. There was a family at one table, an older couple at another, and three teens sharing a plate of fries in a booth at the back. 

You nodded, humming. “So good, Eddie. Best soup I’ve had.”

Eddie grinned and tried to hide it, bashful and pink in the face at your praise. There was a lull in the kitchen as Argyle disappeared into the walk-in and for the first time that day, there was nothing on the grills in danger of burning. So the boy cleared his station and leant his elbows on it, so close to you that you could let your hand touch his, if you’d felt brave enough. 

“How’s the head?” 

You made a face at the reminder, reaching back to gingerly feel at the small lump there, tender and embarrassing. “It’s fine,” you told him. “Just another injury for the collection.”

Eddie snorted, knowing about your bumps and bruises you’d gathered working in the diner. You were insistent someone was moving table eight a few inches to the right each day, just to fuck with you and your hip. “Gonna have to keep you in a bubble.”

You smiled, “can’t feed me in a bubble, Munson.”

Another grin from Eddie, shy and pretty and so incredibly genuine. The boy that had scowled at you from the minute you’d appeared now couldn’t hide how happy you seemed to make him. Pink cheeks and dimples, a shine to his eyes that made your knees a little weak and you wanted to tell him then, right there, kiss me please. 

Kiss me without smoke between us, kiss me without having an excuse to be close. Kiss me ‘cause you want to. 

“Yeah, yeah you’re right, that seems— that would be, uh, less than ideal,” Eddie coughed, suddenly nervous. He straightened up and took his hands away from the counter, away from any ideas you had about holding them in your own. “I could, uh, I could - y’know - ask you if you wanted to grab dinner later, instead.”

You sucked in a breath, eyes wide. You didn’t say anything, you just blinked and your silence urged Eddie to fill it, so he rambled on further, voice coming out rushed and a little rough. “Like, I mean, so I can make sure, you know… you eat. God. And you don’t hit your head again, ‘cause you could totally have a concussion and that would su—”

“Eddie?” You interrupted, heart beating too fast, your chest too tight. It felt like it was ready to crack in two, ready to bloom. Excitement was caught in your throat, maybe hope. “Are you asking me on a date?”

The boy faltered and then smiled, a dopey, lopsided thing that you were sure was the most endearing sight you’d ever come across. Those cheeks went pink again and suddenly he was the furthest thing from the grumpy line cook that grunted his greetings to everyone. But maybe, you guessed, he just didn’t do that to you. 

“I’m definitely trying to, yeah.” Eddie grinned then, only once he saw your smile too. 

Giddy, feeling like a schoolgirl with her first crush, you squinted at him, eyes crinkling in the corners with a new type of joy. You wanted to laugh at his attempt, his shyness for a change instead of your own but you couldn’t keep it together. You were bursting at the seams, chest splintering as the butterflies roared. You felt breathless, you felt warm, you felt like you could look at yourself in the mirrored edge of a frying pan and watch yourself glitter. 

“I’d love to,” you told him, soft, quiet, happy. 

The boy lazed back against the worktop, the stainless steel between you littered with spilled sugar and the lonely top of a carrot. He played with the edge of his dish towel that was tucked into the front of his apron, narrowed his eyes at you comically and tried to contain his own grin. He was beaming. 

“You’re not just saying that ‘cause you’re concussed, right?”

You laughed, a bright, sharp sound and you shook your head. “I’m not concussed.” You hummed, happy. “And even if I was, I’d still wanna go on a date with you.”

Eddie looked brighter than the sun. 

—————

That evening, Eddie picked you up outside your apartment with freshly washed curls and a shirt that didn’t have any rips in it. 

His boots were clean and his jeans weren’t creased and you’d have said something about it all if you weren’t as nervous as he looked. With what appeared to be a permanent flush on his cheeks, he hopped out the van as he saw you lock up, jogging round the front so he could open the door for you. 

“You look nice,” he murmured as he helped you in, his hand holding yours, his gaze unable to stop from wandering over all the bare thigh your dress showed off. 

A summery thing, cherry red with a hem that erred on the side of almost too short, with short sleeves and a pretty frilled neckline. It was lower than your uniform, showing off more skin and cleavage than he’d ever seen before. You’d changed seven times between getting out of the shower and watching the window for Eddie’s van, throwing your rejected outfits on your bedroom floor as you stood in your pyjama shirt, wondering if it was far too presumptuous to change into your best lace underwear. 

The butterflies inside your ribcage were rattling. 

“Thank you,” you answered politely and you let yourself look at him too, like you were allowed to now. He still had the rings he wore outside of the kitchen, a plain black T-shirt that smelled like he always did, like lemongrass and freshly spritzed cologne. “You look nice too.”

He went pink at your words and duked his chin to hide his smile. And when he got back into the driver's seat, you looked at him expectantly, nervously. 

“So, uh, there’s only really one place to go for food in this town,” Eddie cleared his throat awkwardly and he smiled, nose scrunched. “And rumour has it, the chef is out on a hot date…”

You laughed, tension broken for a second or two and you hummed, nodding. “Hot date, huh?”

Eddie nodded furiously, letting his eyes dip to look over your bare legs, the short hem of your dress, scarlet against your skin. He looked bravely, not trying to hide it the way he used to. “The hottest,” he confirmed. 

“Where are you taking me then?” you asked softly, leaning your cheek against the seat. It was dangerous looking at him like this, like you wanted him, like you were over trying to hide it. Your workplace crush had bloomed into something else, something more and it made your chest ache.

“Wayne’s not home,” Eddie replied just as soft, just as quiet. His gaze kept falling to your mouth, the way it turned up in the corners. “I have it on good authority that the food at Casa Munson is top tier.”

It made your stomach flip, the idea of being alone with the boy. It barely happened, a rarity, really. The butterflies in your stomach were pushing at your bones, gnawing to get out. You were dizzy with it. 

“Yeah?” you smiled at him, putting Eddie’s own nerves at ease. “Think you could get us a table?”

[cloginthedrain]

growing pains (remus lupin x reader)

summary: out of the angst and discomfort of her teenage years, reader finally allows herself to pursue remus.

masterlist

word count: 2125

content warning/notes: writer, luna lovegood-ish/sad fem!reader. friends to lovers. implied sex. lots of reminiscing on remus & reader's hogwarts years. no voldemort/wizarding war au.

other notes: hi!! im back, writing remus for the first time?? that's exciting. i've been reading marauder fanfic for so long, it's only fitting! hope u enjoy <3

—

In the dwindling daylight, you’re dawdling beside Remus, admiring your new, shiny Mary Jane’s. You’re particularly mesmerized by their intricate yellow stitching and pretty brass buckles. You also couldn’t help but admire the way your forest green, pleated trousers flowed outward above your shoes in just the way you imagined. You hum happily along cobblestoned streets and lush waving leaves, with Remus’ brown trousers in your peripheral. Your arm’s tucked into his as he guides you back to your flat as you babble about everything and nothing.

Remus can’t help but smile at the sight. You’ve been wielding a new sort of confidence lately, finally out of the growing pains and fits of discomfort of your late teens; you’re finally becoming who you imagined you would be.

Even so, not much has changed since Hogwarts. Back then, Remus would guide you on walks to Care of Magical Creatures or to the Greenhouse for Herbology when the sun was too bright and your eyes were still sleepy. You’d walk alongside Remus, arms linked, and your eyes shut, allowing him to guide you along.

Admittedly, your years at Hogwarts weren’t your finest. You were a basket case—chain-smoking and staining your hand with ink writing angsty poetry, all while almost exclusively wearing Remus’ grey, v-neck pullover or, when you were seeing him, Sirius’ brown leather jacket.

Now, you’re doing what you had always wanted. You’re a proper writer and not for shoddy publications like the Daily Prophet, but for proper, reputable publications: Muggle literary magazines and indie Wizarding publications. It’s exhilarating and exhausting.

You are always writing.

Earlier, your shoulder was hunched under the weight of your canvas messenger bag which contained your journal, a more than ample number of pens, and a book or two. This behemoth of a bag, however, is now on Remus’ shoulder. He’s walking you home from his and Sirius’ flat. You took advantage of the opportunity for company and a change of scenery, otherwise you’d go stir-crazy stewing in your flat, waiting for words to flow out of your quill.

Remus, like always, is bugging you to read your latest project—“I know you’re working on something. Tell me about it.”

“I can’t! It takes the fun out of it for me.”

“How so?” His arm tightens around yours.

Remus knows you better than anyone, and how you would say just about anything to avoid sharing your writing, even if it entered the realm of inanity. He enjoyed watching you squirm, word-vomiting a flimsy yet creative excuse on the spot. It was all so silly; you’d end up showing it to him anyway. Even so, Remus wondered what the excuse would be this time.

“If I tell you what it’s about, you’re going to form assumptions and opinions,” you began, weaving your words carefully. “I want you to have an open, unadulterated mind.”

“Isn’t that what reading is about? Confronting your preconceptions against what someone else has written—”

“Nuh uh,” you say petulantly. Perhaps he had a point, but you were too stubborn to admit it.

“Point taken,” Remus crumbles. “We’ll do it your way.” Whatever you want.

“Good,” you bounce. “It really is better that way.”

“If you say so bug.”

You beam. You adore the nicknames he gave you, but this one above all. From any other man, you might scrunch your nose, maybe roll your eyes, but this is Remus. He says it so frequently but so sparingly, so you cherish every time he says it. Always so sweetly, so kindly.

—

Now, you’re on your doorstep, with Remus the step below.

You can help but notice Remus’ eyes briefly flicker down to your lips.

“You should come inside,” your lips twitch up kindly.

Remus’ eyes widen ever so slightly in surprise, but he doesn’t say anything.

“No?” you ask, a bit wounded.

“Yes, I’d love to.”

“Cool, maybe we can read what I’m working on, but no promises.”.

“Then what was all this business about an open, unadulterated mind, bug?!” He already knows the answer.

“I just like making you crazy, Remus,” you laugh.

“You’re certainly succeeding.”

“Not nice!”

“Nor is intentionally driving your best mate mad. You’re like my personal, portable psychological tormentor.”

“Portable?” you scrunch your eyebrows.

“Quite,” he says, lacing his fingers in-between yours, and then steps beside you, to drag you along. “Come on, let’s get you inside. It’s getting cold!”

—

You live for the way Remus toes the line. You know he fancies you, part of you thinks he’s always had. He lets you get away with murder, even now—you were always stealing off his plate, wearing his clothes, hanging off of him, and sleeping with his friends. You didn’t think of it that way then, but you certainly recognize what you did now. There’s only one way he might’ve allowed it. You were a shitty friend.

You dated James very briefly in your fifth year, but you were never able to achieve the intimacy you and Remus shared. In fact, it was the very source of irreconcilable differences with James, so you resolved to be justfriends. “It’s just better this way,” James had said, and you had to agree. You, the boys, and Lily were the best of friends; you even watched little Harry from time to time.

Later, in your sixth and seventh year, you had an undefined, off-and-on situationship with Sirius. You both had a flare for the dramatic, and quite frankly, Sirius was the inspiration for much of your writing. He’d break it off, or you’d break it off, and you’d sit in your dormitory with smudgy mascara and in yesterday’s uniform as the words would flow out of your quill like a sybil possessed, cursing his smudgy “guy-liner”, as he ironically called it, and his long, dark wavy hair. Sirius rocked it, and he knew it. You hypothesised he was specifically put on this godforsaken Earth to drive you up the wall. He was cryptic, quiet, scheming, but also boisterous and beaming. In many ways, he was hard not to romanticize his contradictory nature. He was certainly a sight to behold. You had so much in common; in fact, you were too similar. Two negatives.

Even so, nobody understands you as well as Remus. You two are simply magnetic.

You both read a tremendous amount. During summers and holidays spent away from Hogwarts, Remus was owling you both Muggle and Wizard books for you to read and mark up. Remus had already marked it up every book he sent, so you’d respond to his margin notes both serious and silly, and send it back.

During the school year, you were glued to his side. You and Remus spent many late nights in the Gryffindor Common Room, cramming for exams or toiling over essays, drinking hot cocoa, quizzing one another or proofreading. You also spent most mornings after the full moon in the Hospital Wing with Remus, because well, you couldn’t bear the thought of him being alone. You were very into Astronomy and, as a witch with a particular love of Astrology, with your special attention the Lunar cycle, you quickly pieced together Remus’ lycanthropy. You came from a very progressive Wizarding family, so you accepted Remus without question. How couldn’t you?

Because you excelled at Divination class, you also often helped Remus interpret his cards when working with Tarot. When Remus was struggling with palmistry, you recall spending one afternoon tracing Remus’ palm in the grass by the Black Lake. You could barely elaborate on your interpretation on his palm lines, stumbling and blushing profusely. You remember his heavy breath with every stroke along the lines of his palm, how his mouth slightly ajar.

You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t like him too, but back then, you would never entertain the thought. You loved being his friend. It was so easy. Words were almost superfluous. Most of the time either of you could glance at the other and you’d know exactly what the other was thinking. You’ve talked so much shit through knowing glances. You could be unapologetically you with him. Why complicate your friendship with a relationship?

—

You unlock the door and slide off your Mary Janes, pull of your coat, and then your rings and your beaded bracelets.

 “It’s like you’re shedding skin,” remarks Remus who already placed his shoes neatly by the door and his coat on the rack. Your bag sits on small table by the door.

“Precisely. Come on, I’ll make us hot cocoa, with extra marshmallows.”

“Sold.”

Walking carefully, you bring two mugs filled to the brim with marshmallows to the coffee table, and then you and Remus both squish onto your very well-loved couch. Remus set a record on the turntable.

“Thanks bug,” Remus said casually before slurping up some marshmallows. He’s particularly handsome today. He is wearing the red, striped jumper you bought him at the charity shop down the road. You’re pleased. He’s always looked much better in red that you were.

Under the low-light, you realize that Remus is nervous. He’s bouncing his leg.

You rest your head in your hand, and you look at Remus some more. You wanted to trace his face the same way you traced his palm on the Black Lake, across the bridge of his nose to his eyes, along his lightly freckled cheeks. You wanted to thumb his pretty, long lashes, run your finger through his mousy brown hair.

“What?” Remus asks sheepishly behind his mug, his lips slightly crusted with chocolate.

“Nothing,” you hum contentedly, the corner of your lips twitching upward.

Remus just stares at you. “Okay, weirdo.”

He almost disregards you, that is, until you let your eyes wander all over his face, searching for some sort of permission. That’s when Remus’ eyes flicker back down your lips, and they stay there.

You lean in so close you can feel his breath tickle your lips.

Remus gently tucks your stray hair back and cradles your face, thumbing the soft skin along your jaw. Even though you know he’s going to kiss you, you can’t help but feel stunned when he connects your lips suddenly.

Despite your stupor, at once, you deepen the kiss, with open lips—sloppy and desperate. All you can think about how he tastes sweet like marshmallows.

Without interruption, Remus effortlessly tugs you onto his lap, and suddenly you’re straddling him, grazing the skin beneath the hem of his sweater.

Annoyed with the hem of his sweater, and well, the presence of his sweater in general, you tug it off, up and over Remus’ stomach, his chest, up his arms, and over his head. You were relentless.

Between kisses, Remus breathes, “You’re so… fucking… crazy.”

—

“Well, bug, that was certainly a way to get out of showing me your piece,” Remus threw himself back onto the couch, you were tucked into his side, eyeliner and mascara smudged.

“That’s a way to put it,” you say, feeling a little lighter. “But it did work.”

You stew in the silence, mentally thanking yourself for lighting a candle on the coffee table, inhaling the rosy, woody, deep red candle you concocted, littered with rose petals, lavender, and hibiscus flower. For attraction. Candle-magic was your specialty.

“This… this isn’t a one-time thing right?” Remus asks suddenly, fingers combing through your hair. “Merlin, it would crush me if it was.”

“You think so little of me,” you say quietly, suddenly feeling small, staring at the flickering flame.

“Oh no, bug you misunderstand me,” says Remus helplessly. “It’s just like I said: I’d be crushed if you didn’t want me the way I want you. I’m all in for you. I’m never quite sure with you.”

“I don’t exactly have the greatest track record…”

“I don’t care about that.”

“You did,” you pipe up.  

“God I sure did,” he laughs. “Can you blame a bloke? All of my mates! You even snogged Peter.”

“He’s a great kisser. Attentive.”

“Blegh,” Remus said, ruffling up his nose, “Not exactly something I want to be hearing.”

Your laughter dies down, and suddenly he’s asking, “…Why not me?”

“I couldn’t have you,” you reasoned plainly. “You were too good for me, too good to me.”

“Well that’s just ridiculous.”

“You think too little of yourself, Lupin.”

“You think too little of yourself, bug,” he echoes.

“Maybe.”

“I think you’re incredible, you know?”

“That I do,” you say boldly. That is, you know he thinks you’re incredible, but Remus seemed satisfied with your answer. (Maybe someone needed to knock your newfound confidence down a peg, but that somebody certainly wouldn’t be Remus.)

“Good.”

You burrow a little further into Remus, content in the warmth he radiated. You could get used to this.

—

likes and reblogs and comments appreciated! encourages me to create more content for you! <3

[mattslolita]

thriller - c. & m. sturniolo ( 001. )

in which ... you find out the truth about your best friends and their secret on halloween night, under the full moon.

( vampire!chris & black!fem!reader & vampire!matt )

warnings ; blood, death, suggestive, angst, fighting, two separate endings ( matt version, chris version )

"𝒏𝒐 𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒍 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓."

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎ��˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰

the sun was close to the horizon, almost setting on the west side of the continent. the leaves crunched underneath the shoes of eager children and restless teens, and the soft hum of the october breeze promised a very eventful evening for everyone — halloween was your favorite holiday for this exact reason.

fall was your favorite season, anyway — it was cozy, and the vibes were immaculate in your opinion, which you loved. but the days leading up to halloween are what excited you the most, buying candy to trick or treat and fun parties you'd get invited to. dressing up was one of the best parts as well, cause it was the one night of year where you could wear whatever the hell you wanted without the shame of others. but regardless of halloween, you wore whatever you wanted anyway.

your best friends were having the halloween party this year, just like they had last year — it was somewhat a new tradition of theirs, but you weren't complaining, especially with how big their house was. it sat on a lot of land, and you deemed them pretty much rich.

they were humble though, and more often than you'd like to admit you spent most of your time there with the three triplets brothers — nick was the oldest, and you completely adored him. you'd never say it in front of the other two, but nick had always been your favorite. you loved how easy it had been to talk to him about any and everything, and you were grateful having found such an amazing best friend.

then, there were the other two brothers — matt and chris.

they were your best friends too, of course, but things were slightly more complicated when it came to those two. everything was platonic between you and them, but you wouldn't deny the obvious attraction you felt towards both of the siblings. matt was gentle and understanding with you, always so patient as well. you loved that he was like that with you, which is what attracted you to him. with chris, you'd feel comfortable talking to him about anything — he also brought out the goofier side of you, whilst also putting you on a pedestal and treating you like you were the only girl ever. which is how you constantly found yourself second guessing your relationship with the two of them.

you were sat at your vanity mirror, applying the last bit of makeup to complete your costume — horror movies had always been your favorite, so naturally, you had to dress as one of your favorite slashers.

the eyeliner wing you had finished sat perfectly in place as you grinned at your reflection — the dark red, glittery eye shadow sparkled back at you. you stood up and smoothed out the black leather skirt that rode up your bare, brown thighs accompanied by the black and red striped halter top with sleeves. the final piece was the brown hat that sat atop of your knotless box braids, creating your look — freddy krueger.

nightmare on elm street were one of your favorites, and you had already done ghostface last year — besides, you know you'd get lucky tonight with how good you looked.

the triplet brother's party started soon, so you hurriedly sprayed some perfume on yourself before walking around your desk and to your bed where your small, black juicy couture handbag laid waiting for you.

you took your phone from the dresser and checked the time, seeing it was eight o'clock. a grin overtook your features as you could hear footsteps of children outside — when you walked over to the window, the sky had darkened and a cozy, yet mysterious wind whistled throughout the streets of boston.

with your handbag on your shoulder, you exited your room towards the living room where your younger brother sat with your dad, a bowl of candy sat in between as a film was playing on the flat screen tv.

"woah, y/n!" your brother said with wide eyes, causing you to giggle as you do a spin.

"honey, you sure you wanna go out of the house like that?" your dad asks you, concern lacing his voice as he skims over your outfit, "you sure you'll be okay? you got that pepper spray i got you?"

"dad, why do i need pepper spray when i took that pocket knife from the cabinet?" you accidentally admitted, making his eyes widen.

"you what?"

"nevermind, i'm gonna be fine, okay?" you say quickly, a smile gracing your features as you walked over to both of them. you planted a kiss to your dad's head, then kissed your brother's cheek. "i'll call you if anything happens. have fun!"

"you too!" your brother called after you, waving to you as you wave back cheekily and head out of the house.

the warm nighttime breeze carried a precarious, yet exciting aura as you began to walk down the street — the laughter of the young children have already rang throughout the streets, accompanied by various shouts of "trick or treat!". you smiled at the kids dressed in whatever their hearts desired, enjoying this autumn night with nothing to offer but tricks and treats to all.

the trek to the sturniolo household wasn't too far, as it was the only house down the road that sat alone. as you approached the end of the road where they lived, you could make out the silhouettes of multiple people having arrived already, a lot of them carrying different drinks with them.

excitedly, you make your way up the long driveway in front of you, stopping to greet some people that you recognized — psycho killer by the talking heads blasted throughout the entirety of the house, causing an excited thrill to course through your body; that was definitely picked out by matt, who knew it to be one your favorite 80s songs.

"y/n, you look so good!" a girl dressed as carrie complimented you as you walked inside of the large home.

"girl, you look good too!" you said back.

you looked around the house for the culprits of the party throwing, having not seen them at the moment. the house was decorated with spider webs that lined random areas, with multicolored lights that spilled onto the ceiling. you frowned as your hand rested on your hip, finding it weird that the three boys were nowhere to be found.

"hi y/n," a blonde girl dressed as cher horowitz suddenly says from behind you, causing you to jump a little as you turn to face her.

"oh...hi?" you say, confusion lacing your features. you've never seen this girl in your life honestly, so it was weird how she knew your name.

"nick, matt, and chris told me to keep an eye on you," she tells you, her gaze never wandering as she looks you in the eye.

almost as if she's under some kind of hypnosis?

"um that's sweet, but i don't need nobody to watch me," you tell her sweetly, attempting to walk away.

"stay inside the house, at the party," she tells you, her eyes narrowing and her voice stern.

now, you weren't one to take kindly to people telling you what to do — but for some reason, you felt a little weary at the fact that the triplets had someone watching you, for some reason. maybe they knew something you didn't?

"okay," you nod to her slowly, and she perks up and smiles. she imitates the gesture of having her eyes on you, before she walks away and disappears into the growing crowd of people.

as strange as you felt the interaction to be, you were not about to let it ruin your mood — you went to the nearest table with drinks, deciding on pouring yourself some pink whitney to start you off for the night.

"omg y/n, come here!" some girls from your class squealed, crowding around you as finished pouring your drink.

"hey, y'all!" you say cheerily, holding your cup up and blowing slightly, "i'm finna get so fucked up, i swear."

"I feel you on that one," one girl agrees with you, tipping her cup back as she empties its remnants into her mouth, "let's dance!"

the girls grab your hand just as candy by doja cat reverberates throughout the speakers of the mansion — you let yourself get loose, enjoying how you look in your costume as well as the electric energy flowing through you, and it wasn't just the drink.

an hour had passed by, and you had only had three drinks — you didn't necessarily need to get shit faced to have fun, so you didn't mind it. two guys had already tried flirting with you and playfully gave them the time of day.

but something else was plaguing your mind.

you hadn't seen your best friends at all so far, and it was especially weird considering this was their party. it also made you kind of sad that it seemed like they didn't seem to be looking for you, either. you also wanted to tell them about how great the party was, but they were nowhere to be found.

you slipped away from the dancing crowd, deciding that you were going to find them alone — didn't anyone else find it weird that they couldn't find their hosts?

everybody by the backstreet boys could now be heard, and you looked around to see if you could spot that blonde from earlier anywhere nearby. to your fortune, you were able to slip out the back door without her spotting you.

you smoothed your skirt once again, sighing longingly as you stood on the back patio of the huge mansion. you looked around, and it was slightly comforting that you were the only one outside aside from a couple messily making out near one of the trees nearby.

the mansion was in front of the woods, creating a horror movie kind of aesthetic to their home. you smiled to yourself at the thought, thinking that this whole setting would be perfect for one if it ever came down to it.

a branch snapping caused your head to whip towards the woods again, on high alert. you looked around, but nobody had been there.

looking behind you, you saw that nobody had followed you, so you cautiously began to walk towards the woods in front of you. a cold shiver runs down your spine as leaves prickle underneath your chunky platform boots, and the atmosphere suddenly turns eerie.

it was pitch black except for the party you left, which illuminated onto the creepy looking trees in your vision. a gulp rides down your throat when you reach the first set of trees.

another twig snaps, and your heart races wildly as you can hear your heart thumping in your ears as you continue the trek into the deeper part of the woods. it's eerily quiet, and you can't deny the goosebumps that crawl on your arms. but you were determined — you know that noise didn't just come randomly; you just prayed it wasn't some rogue animal that would come and eat you.

a breeze sifts past you, and you shudder and bring your arms up to run them over each other, feeling the fabric of the ripped halter top. looking up, your eyes have found the full moon — a twinge of red outlines it, casting a reddish glow upon the earth beneath it.

another breeze rushes past you again but this time, you swear you see a figure whiz past you too. rightfully feeling scared now, you turn around to try and catch the figure, but it seemed to have already vanished.

you probably would've been better off listening to the girl who tried to warn you, but you were too stubborn to really listen when you were supposed to.

another twig snaps, and you fully gasp now — you were sure of it now, there was definitely someone, or something that was there with you.

"is someone there?" you manage to say, your voice stern as you address the being who's trying to spook you. "this better not be some sick joke, i'm too sober for this shit."

another whoosh — but this time, the figure wasn't so careful trying to hide themselves, almost as if they wanted you to see them. your heart rate has increased beyond belief, you were sure it would leap out of your chest and onto the floor below you.

"hello?" your voice squeaks, less confident than before.

you make out hushed voices in the distance, causing chills to flood your body as you begin to back up — only, you bumped into a hard chest.

you gasp, but cold, yet familiar hands grip your arms, massaging your tense muscles. "y'know kid, you really should've listened to raleigh back there."

"c-chris?" your voice says, eyebrows furrowed as you turn around to face the man before you.

his cheeks are more sunk in than usual, face as pale as the moonlight above the two of you — his cheekbones are highly accentuated thanks to the moonlit glow. it isn't until he grins down at you, that you notice them.

the sharp, canine teeth that stare back at you.

"w-wha-"

you attempt to back up again, only to be met with yet another chest — the familiar ringed hand holds you in place as goosebumps ride up and down your skin.

"why'd you leave the party, y/n?" matt's voice asks, dangerously close to your ear.

"i just...needed to find you guys," you whisper, eyes still fixated on chris in front of you.

his primal gaze had raked your entire figure, drinking in the sight of your body and all of its curves in your costumes. he runs his tongue over his bottom set of teeth, eyeing you hungrily.

"can you control yourself, please?" matt says again, his grip on you easing only slightly, "when i let go of you y/n, you better not run. got it?"

you nod your head up and down, too focused on chris's gaze which has now darkened as he continues looking down at you — he clicks his tongue as he begins to take a few steps closer to you. "words, princess, we need words."

the nickname rolls off of his tongue so smoothly, embarrassingly having you weak in the knees. "okay."

matt releases his grip on you, your heart still pounding loudly as you take one step forward. slowly, you turn to face matt — his facial features mirror chris's, yet he looks down at you with concern and a sternness as he examines you.

"can one of you explain to me..." you breathe out, watching matt watch you, turning your insides to jelly, "...what's happening?"

chris chuckles from behind you, and you can tell he's shaking his head in disapproval — you hadn't meant to disobey what they asked of you, but your curiosity had gotten the best of you.

and it's how you currently found yourself in this predicament, second guessing everything you ever knew about your best friends.

a cold hand reaches up to massage the base of your shoulder from behind, and you suck in a sharp breath as you melt into chris's touch — his hand grips you firmly, gently tugging you back towards him.

"chris," matt warns, narrowing his icy blue eyes that are now tinged with a darkness.

"oh come on, matt," chris hisses, tilting your head as he moves your braids to the side, staring up at his brother tauntingly, "don't you wanna taste her?"

your eyes widen slightly as matt's gaze seemingly zeroes in over your exposed neck — he senses your vein before he can see it begin to show almost as if he'd hypnotized that part of your body to follow his command. darkness clouds the icy blue in his eyes as veins begin to show under his eyes — his canine teeth protrude out of his mouth as he stares with so much intensity you were almost certain you'd stumble over if it hadn't been for chris's relentless grip on you.

then it happens in the blink of an eye — matt's teeth sink into your exposed flesh.

the thing that surprises you most is not that your best friend had just exposed his supernatural abilities to you, but rather your reaction to it — a needy whimper escapes your throat as chris chuckles darkly from behind you, as matt feeds from the blood that flows through your veins.

a gasp sounds from your lips when matt pulls away, his cold, ringed hand swiping across his mouth as he sticks his middle finger in his mouth to suck off the rest of your sweet blood, whilst keeping eye contact with you.

"and look who couldn't control themselves?" chris taunts, swiping at your neck to get the last drop of your blood, a satisfied groan leaving his lips as he leans down to your ear, "tastes so sweet."

"fuck," matt says, his eyes having gone back to normal as he takes in your shocked and confused expression, "sorry about that, y/n."

"vampire..." you mutter, closing your eyes, "okay, i can live with this. what the actual fuck?"

"uh oh, i think someone's upset with us," chris tsks, causing you to snatch yourself out of grip as you whirl around to face him angrily.

"yeah, i'm mad as fuck," you suddenly hiss, prodding your pointer finger into his chest, "how long have you been keeping this a secret from me?"

"if i'm like one hundred and seven and matt's like one hundred and-"

"chris, i'm serious!" you say, narrowing your eyes at him, then you turn to see matt's guilty expression, "how could you guys keep something like this hidden from me?"

"do you not see what i just did to you, y/n?" matt says sternly, narrowing his eyes at you, motioning to his own neck, "this isn't exactly something you'd want someone you care about to be exposed to."

"even if y'know, you did like that bite," chris whispers in your ear, causing a tingle to go down your spine, "kinky y/n, i like it."

"shut up, christopher," you snap, causing him to put his arms up defensively, yet the hint of a smirk remained on his face. "why did you not feel like you could tell me about...this?"

"we didn't want to risk you looking at us differently," matt explains patiently, "it gets bad, y/n. when we first turned, it took a long time for us to get used to this side of ourselves — fighting the urges and having self restraint was hard when all we craved was the one thing you can't just normally going around feeding on."

you sighed knowingly, having watched the vampire diaries millions of times — only, now it was somewhat your reality. "matt, you know i wouldn't look at you differently. yes this is crazy as fuck, but you'd have to be heartless in order for me to ever hate you."

you smile softly and yank matt down to your level, pulling him in for a hug — you're pretty sure the bite on your neck was as tempting as ever with him being so close to it, but you were more or less focused on showing him your affection.

you pulled away, repeating the same actions with chris. he rests his arms on your lower back area, and you lean into his touch as you let out a sigh on content.

"now, where is nick?" you ask when you pull away from him, resting your hand on your hip.

"listening to this theatrical version of what simply could've been a 'hey y/n, we were turned into vampires about a hundred years ago, don't kill us with a stake please!'," a familiar voice says, before appearing right next to chris.

nick rolls his eyes at his brothers, before looking at you apologetically. "sorry for not telling you about it."

"i get why it was the last thing you wanted to do," you smile at nick softly, both chris and matt looking at you agape.

"so i get poked in my fuckin' chest and we get yelled back, but he practically gets a pat on the back?" chris says, "unbelievable."

"i'm sensing favoritsm," matt huffs, crossing his arms across his chest.

"i thought we already established a while ago that nick was my favorite?" you tease him, causing him to shake his head and scoff.

"what the fuck, are you kidding me?" nick says, his eyes narrowing on the mark on you neck. he walks towards you and examines it closely, before dragging a hand down his face, "which one of you two fucking idiots bit her?"

"imagine the shock when i tell you it was matt," chris snickers, nodding to the second oldest triplet brother.

nick whirls his head around to face matt, narrowing his eyes at him. "did you at least get her permission? if you weren't so careful next time, she could've-"

"yeah, i know, nick," matt glares, glancing over at you, "it's not something that's gonna happen again."

"if somehow you guys can't exactly feed like you need to, i'd be happy to help you, though," you offer, shrugging your shoulders, "as long as y'know, you don't bleed me dry."

"can't make any promises to that, ma," chris grins at you with a wink, causing you to roll your eyes.

"fuck, you're shivering," nick notices, looking upon the goosebumps that riddle your skin, "we need to get back to the party."

"everyone's gonna wonder why we all randomly just came from the woods," you spoke up, as you all began walking towards the beginning of the woods, "probably some secret satanic orgy, except nick's gay so he fucked a tree."

"how does that even- nevermind," nick sighs, causing you to giggle.

"y'know if you really wanna fulfill that fantasy..." chris whispers in your ear, his arm grazing your skirt, causing heat to rise throughout your body.

"you're such a pervert, chris!" you tell him, swatting his arm away from you.

( lilly's section 💌 )

so this was already basically finished before i posted my announcement about needing to take a writing break, so i just wanted to get this out sigh. for my angel girls @muwapsturniolo @thenickgirl @luverboychris @guccifrog @nickgetsmewetter ! i love you guys. 💌

@luverboychris @muwapsturniolo @mrssturnioloo @mattsturniolosleftnut @sturnprime @thenickgirl @guccifrog @nickgetsmewetter @eyeliketoeatpoosay @e1ias3 @sp3aknaur @middlepartmatt @summerssover @riasturns @sturn777 @l0akkzz @hysteria-things @pinksturniolo @chrissturniolossidehoe @chris-slut @hoesformatt @raysmayhem-72 @lanas-doll @chrisssluttywaist @mbbsgf @jetaimevous @chaossturns @cottoncandyswisherz @oliviasturniolo21

[slaybestieslay946]

luke castellan x fem!reader in the future as parents 🥺

omg i love this idea sm!

word count: 700

pairing: Luke Castellan x reader

warnings: None!

MASTERLIST

-Perfect

Saturday mornings in the Castellan household were hectic to say the least. But that wasn’t surprising, considering the fact you had a house of two kids, a dog, and an adorably idiotic husband. 

And while you usually loved it, sometimes it could be pretty exhausting.

“Babe?” You called out, striding through the house, a pram in one hand and a packed lunch in the other. 

“Yeah, in here honey!” Luke replied from the living room, laughing slightly at something. 

You walked in to see him sat on the couch, bouncing your baby daughter on his knee while the girl laughed with glee. 

Normally, you’d sit down beside him to coo at your daughter and all her little facial expressions. But this morning you had things to attend to, such as laundry, taking your son to soccer practice, grocery shopping. You didn’t have time for distractions. 

“Did you wake up James this morning?” 

“I thought you were doing it, and I was handling Violet?” He replied, perplexed. 

“No,” You sighed, exasperated. “That was last week. You’re on wake up duty, remember?” 

It was then that it appeared to click in his head, and he quickly returned the girl back to her cot, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead before rushing out the room, calling out frantic apologies to you on the way. 

You’d been late to James’ soccer practice because of it, and he’s missed out on collecting his player of the match award. He’d been understandably upset, and it had caused some tension in the house for the past week. 

You weren’t angry with Luke per se. Irritated was probably more accurate. He’d apologised profusely to both you and James, and the boy had gotten over it when his dad took him out for pancakes the next day. 

As for you, he hadn’t yet delivered his grand gesture to atone, so you were still waiting on that. One thing you did love about your husband, is that he always made it up to you, no matter what mistake he made. 

And make it up, he did. 

The next Saturday you woke up without the usual ring of your alarm, and instead you found yourself waking naturally out of a lazy dream. The morning sun cast its rays over your face, warming you slightly as you smiled, rolling over to face your husband. Except he wasn’t there. 

Immediately you were confused, sitting up in bed and glancing at the clock. It was 10 o’clock. You were so late. 

You cursed quietly, practically leaping out of bed and pulling on the nearest pair of trousers you could find. 

You were in such a frantic state that you didn’t even notice Luke entering the room until he called out to you. 

“Honey, please, get back into bed.” 

“What! We’re late! Oh god, James is gonna be so upset, he’s missed all of soccer!” You exclaimed, turning to face him, only to see him holding a tray full of food. 

“What’s that?” 

“Breakfast. Please, just get back in bed, I’ll explain.” He said, a sheepish smile on his face as he herded you back into bed. 

You followed, willing to hear him out, especially when he was offering you pastries and coffee. 

“Is everything-?” 

“It’s all sorted,” He said, cutting you off, “I took James to soccer, and then he’s going to Leon’s for a playdate. I’m really sorry for last week, you let me get away with so much, and you work so hard, so I thought I’d let you have a lie in, and bring you breakfast.” 

You were speechless, staring directly into his chocolate brown eyes. 

“Are you happy? Sorry for not telling you, I wanted it to be a nice surprise.” 

Then you snapped out of your daze, grabbing his face and kissing him hard, before pulling back to giggle at his blushing face. Sometimes he was still like the awkward teen you had met all those years ago. 

“It was a great surprise. I really appreciate it.” 

You grabbed a croissant from the tray, and quickly began to sate you hunger, grinning the whole time as you tried to figure how you managed to get so lucky to call this man your husband, the father of your children. 

It really was perfect.