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#I was going to obnoxiously make the sound but I don't remember.
egoludes · 2 years
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thinking today about going to harvard with lloyd and co and absolutely hating everything about him --- a feeling he shares even when he’s fucking your mouth so hard in the back of a lecture hall you’ve started to cry.
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eddiernunson · 6 months
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Nice to Meet You, Where You Been? | Eddie Munson x f!Reader | 18+
Thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing, you're the best!
Summary: your college roommate takes you to the annual Harrington Halloween Party, where you expect to do nothing but get drunk and dance for a night. That was...until you turn around to the person dancing against you to Eddie fucking Munson.
Warnings: strangers to lovers, praise/degradation, hook-up at a party, daddy kink, creampie, no protection, slow ish build up, size kink? maybe?, hooking up under the influence
I had a whole ass plan to write for KinkTober but executive dysfunction took over. Hopefully this makes up for it...maybe.
I have another Halloween themed fic from last year, EddiexReader with Steve if anyone is interested
Word Count: 6.1k
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You sit in the backseat of your roommate’s boyfriend’s beater, the music bumping through the stereo as you make your way to what is supposedly the biggest Halloween party of every year. Your roommate spent the beginning of your fall semester hyping up this party as the best place to be on a Halloween night. Her insistence was charming, and you were looking for an excuse to get drunk. So, now you are watching as you pass by Halloween decorations and children dressed in costumes going Trick-or-Treating.
You don't pay much attention to what they're saying, the gist of it reminiscing on the Halloween parties they had attended in the past. Your roommate had made it very clear from the start that this guy, whatever his name was, his Halloween parties were legendary in town. He has only been throwing them for a handful of years, but if you were a young adult in rural Hawkins on Halloween night, chances are you were at this party.
You start to wonder how big this guy’s house must be if a couple hundred people have been attending every year, and it sounded like he even encouraged it.
You can hear the music bumping from the house before you even see it. It's hard to miss, a cluster of cars in the neighborhood, several people walking up the lawn towards the wide-open door. Your roommate’s boyfriend parks down the street, a spot that is probably fine to park overnight due to the nature of the party.
If there is to be a single sober soul at this party, they would be a rare sight.
You tug at your costume as you walk behind the two of them, strutting arm in arm. They’re wearing a matching couple’s costume, as salt and pepper. It’s something they could come up with last minute, him wearing a black shirt for pepper and her a white dress for salt. Their costume is minimal, and certainly they’ll get asked frequently what they’re supposed to be, but when everyone’s intoxicated, you suppose it won’t matter much.
You’re dressed as your favorite iconic Batman villain, Poison Ivy. You loved the character from the DC comics as you grew up and having a year away from your parents and in a different town, you figured it might be a time to try a new daring costume. So here you walk, arms crossed in a small green dress with fake vines pinned across your chest. You opted for some dramatic green eyeshadow and bright red lips, hoping your makeup and costume will sell the look.
Your ears are nearly bursting as you cross the threshold to the front door of the massive house from the loud bumping music. The pop music is a bit obnoxious, but you’re sure you won’t care once some alcohol is in your system.
Your roommate seems to remember you exist, escaping her boyfriend’s arms for the moment and intertwining her arm around yours. She immediately guides you to the kitchen where stacks of red solo cups are sitting, surrounded by bottles of alcohol and soda. “Holy shit.” You mutter.
“I know.” She giggles, handing you a cup and some tequila.
“No thanks.” You push it back, knowing what exactly tequila does to you. “I’ll just do a vodka-sprite.”
As you’re pouring, in waddles a lanky dude with brown curled hair and freckles scattered on his pale skin.  “Oh hey, Mandy!” He greets her, stumbling as he toasts his cup. “Haven’t seen you in a while! How’s that boyfriend of yours?” He asks, spinning the lid of the alcohol he’s holding absentmindedly, causing it to flick off into the distance.  
“Nate’s good, I think he’s taking over your stereo, though.” She says, moving the bottles around to make Nate’s drink, as well.
“As per usual.” He laughs, pouring a large quantity of said tequila into his cup.
Mandy seems to realize something halfway through her sip. “Oh shit!” She sputters out, a drip of alcohol leaving her mouth. “Sorry, I forgot you two don’t know each other, yet. Y/N, this is Steve. Steve, Y/N.”
“Hi.” You greet him shyly, his confidence radiating, but very intimidating.
“Hello. Me casa e su casa, and whatever, whatever. Can I just ask, who are you supposed to be?” He asks you, gesturing to your costume.
“Oh, Poison Ivy.” You explain to him, sipping on your concoction and wincing when you realize you’ve poured way too much.
Steve blinks at you, seemingly trying to make sense of your costume. “You’re—you’re a plant?”
You laugh, not in the mood to explain comic book villains to someone who clearly doesn’t know anything about them. “Yeah, sure.”
“Oh, cool!” Steve laughs, taking a big sip of his drink.
“Hey, Steve, you see much of Munson these days?” Mandy asks him, wiping her face from the excess drink surrounding her mouth.
How wonderful, more people you don’t know. Hawkins is the smallest town you’ve ever seen; everyone seems to know of everyone.
“Eddie? Yeah, he should be here tonight actually. Super dork, dressed as some character from Star Wars. Or at least I think it’s Star Wars.” He mutters, rolling his eyes in obvious affection for his friends. “He’s matching with Henderson and Wheeler.”
They shake their heads together in tandem at their supposedly dorky friends. As a Star Wars fan, however, you were fine, ecstatic even to hear that there were souls brave enough to dress up as dorky characters and that you weren’t the only one.
You follow Mandy into the living room, now bumping with a tape mix that Nate apparently brought to the party. It's a damn blast, everyone in the living room dancing surrounded by sweaty bodies, finally finding some joy as the strong drink makes you lose your inhibitions. As you continue dancing, suddenly you find yourself in a huddle of people, Mandy and Nate both dancing by you, but lost in their own drunken haze. You don’t care about that. However, something in your mind as you tell yourself you don’t care tells you to care about the person who’s been up against your back for God knows how long.
They have a good rhythm, and they weren’t all too touchy so nothing in your head raised any red flags. You turn around to face the stranger, and it’s like you forget how to breathe. One of his hands is placed on your hip, a smile on his face giving way to dimples that make you swoon. “Hi.” He greets you. You can’t quite hear it over the music, but you can certainly read his lips. Isn’t all that hard to decipher.
You smile back to him, letting a forearm rest on his shoulder. Who were you to deny such a pretty person? His wide smile expands even more, adding some pressure to your hip. The weight and size of his hand sends a thrill through you, and there’s a level of horniness that’s coming from you that you didn’t even know you could have.
Your drink is eventually finished, the cup dropped to the floor, forgetting to bother to throw it away. The gorgeous stranger pulls you in closer and closer as you continue to dance with him, his hands never dipping down past your waist, but you can tell by the steadiness of his grip that he knows how to use them. Usually, eye contact this intense would cause you to retract, looking away after that first glance. This eye contact only makes you want him more, his brown eyes exuding a type of lust you’ve never experienced before.
Or…were you just picturing this?
The hand that rested on your hip moves to frame your face, slender fingers brushing your cheek, caressing it for a half a moment. The hand moves down to hook under your chin, his thumb swiping across your bottom lip. His eyes very obviously stare at your lips, silently asking you for permission. When his tongue licks his bottom lip you nod eagerly, one hand moving to his black curls that you have been itching to touch as long as you’ve faced him.
Somehow, your ears muffle out the deafening music in favor of the chuckle that leaves his mouth. Before you could even register your heartbeat loud in your ears, he bends down to kiss you, and for the first time your brain computes how much taller he is than you. Any thought you might’ve had seems to evacuate the moment his soft lips meet yours. He kisses you with an expertise that makes you irrationally jealous of any other person who’s had the opportunity before you. He draws a sharp inhale as you deepen the kiss, offering more slobber and spit for him to wholeheartedly accept.
His hands tangle in your curled hair, thumbs caressing your face on either side. Something you're learning about this stranger is that he kisses with his whole body, and he knows how to do it well. His teeth graze against your bottom lip, tugging on it lightly. You whimper, shoving your tongue down his throat. A deep laugh escapes his throat as he meets your enthusiasm. He kisses the corner of your mouth, your cheek, and down to your collarbone. You barely sigh into it when his lips leave your collarbone, looking at you with remorse.
Uh oh. Not good. Were you the worst kisser and he was going to go find someone else worthy of his magical skills?
“Sorry, gotta piss. Beer’s hittin’ hard.” He shouts over the music, his thumb gesturing toward where you guessed the bathroom was.
“Ok. I’m gonna go get another drink.” You tell him, noting the red lipstick now all over his lips. “You got some uh…some lipstick there…hold on…” You reach out to wipe it for him, but he deflects, ducking from your thumb humorously.
“Uh…no thanks. I wear this shit with pride.” He explains, giving you a wink. “Meet you in the kitchen.”
You nod, suddenly full of nerves. You have been all over this guy for the last…however long, you couldn’t even tell. And now you’re realizing, he might be a decent dude on top of being a fantastic kisser.
Your legs carry you into the kitchen, running into Mandy and Nate. You weren’t sure where they’d been, having been lost in your own little world.
“Hi, babe!” She greets you, alcohol sharp on her breath. Whoa. She has had a lot more than you have. “I missed you, where the hell you been?”
You giggle, deciding to go for the tequila. After all, it was your literal liquid courage. And if you wanted to get that man’s fingers down your panties tonight, you were gonna need some. “Making out with the hottest guy I’ve ever seen in my life.” You proudly proclaim, taking a big sip of just straight tequila before adding some Sprite.
“Oh my god!” She squeals, letting go and forgetting about Nate’s existence. “Holy shit, I’m so fucking proud!” Speaking of him…he waltzes into the kitchen, grabbing a cup right by you and winking, apparently unseen by Mandy. “Shit, I’ve been looking for you!” She tells him, drunkenly tapping her hand on his bicep. “Hey, Y/N! This is Eddie. Remember? The dork Steve talked about earlier?”
Ouch. Mandy has no filter, as of course, she's drunk, but she didn’t have to be rude.
At least now you have a name for him. You were starting to feel bad. “Oh, I’m acquainted.” You tell her, sharing a smirk with Eddie.
“Seriously? Cool.” Mandy answers, not getting the hint. You gesture with your eyes alone to Mandy that Eddie was the guy you were talking about just a few moments ago. She gets it, but apparently forgets all about subtlety. “Wait, Eddie Munson is the hottest guy you’ve ever seen in your life?” She asks you incredulously, like it's the most unbelievable thing she's ever heard.
“Thanks, Mandy.” You grit out, teeth clenched.
“Oops.” She grimaces, grabbing Nate's hand. “We’re gonna go find a spot on the couch to make out. Sorry!”
You roll your eyes affectionately, knowing she meant no harm. Did she have to say it, though?
The smirk on Eddie’s face says everything without saying a word. “So, the hottest guy you’ve ever seen, huh?” He asks, looking incredibly proud of the fact.
You knock your tequila back, needing more liquid courage. “Yep. Hottest.”
His eyebrow raises, and he takes a big sip of his own drink. Maybe he needs his own courage. “Well, you’re probably the sexiest damn Poison Ivy I’ve ever seen.” He smirks, leering at you. His eyes blatantly rake up and down your body, giving you a surge in confidence. “You’re like a little sexy nugget of weed.” He laughs, his words slightly slurred.
“Wait, you get that I’m Poison Ivy?” You ask, finally assessing his costume. Oh, he’s Vader without the mask. “I mean I guess you are the dork they talked about earlier.” Eddie seems slightly sunken by this. “Don’t worry,” you tell him theatrically. “I’m a massive dork, myself.”
He perks up, pulling you in by the waist. “What do you say we find a room upstairs?” He asks, taking another big sip of his drink.
You raise your cup back to your lips, knocking the remainder down fast. “I say, lead the way.”
He grabs you by the hand and leads you up the stairs, pushing some people out of the way that were blocking it in the middle of a conversation. As he leads you down the hall, the music somewhat fades out and you can hear him muttering under his breath. “We better find a guest room cause I’m not hooking up in Harrington’s room, and I’ll be damned if I hook up in his parents' room.”
From that, you’re able to assess that he’s over here enough to know which room belongs to whom. He knocks on one of the doors, swearing softly when someone shouts out. He does it twice more, meeting the same result. “Ok.” He sighs, fingers crossed. He knocks twice, no answer. He knocks once more for good measure, and it can be said that there is definitely no one inside. “Thank fuck.”
As soon as you’re through the door he turns the dimmer switches on lightly and locks the door. You take off the vines, letting the pins and fake plants fall to the floor to make it easier for him to climb on you.
He watches you from the four postered bed, still head to toe in what you now noticed was the caped costume that Darth Vader wears. “So, we don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, by the way. If you wanna do hand stuff, we’ll do hand stuff.”
Your gut swoops at his consideration and empathy. He seems to truly care about your comfortability rather than him getting off. You walk to him, swiping off all accessories you wore, including your shoes. You straddle his lap, pushing on him lightly so he falls back onto the bed. You attack his lips with your own, attempting to show how much his consideration for you already has you soaked. “I will do” you whisper in between a handful of kisses, “anything you want me to,” you tell him, starting to grind the tent you feel poking past your dress. “Within reason.” You add for good measure, not quite that down for anything. But if he wants to fuck you, you’re down. You’re so down. You’re so down bad.
“Fuck…do that again.” He asks, holding your hips. You comply, grinding your wet heat against him, teasing yourself, but loving the expression on his face. It's ethereal. “Fuck, baby. You barely touched me, and you already have me falling apart.”
This makes you smile with pride. A huff of laughter escapes your lips, sighing deeply as you can feel his erection growing. The fact that this man is as hard as he is when he’s this good looking is the biggest compliment in the world. You wrap his lips in a kiss again, your tongue peeking out to lick across his lip, managing to tug yet another moan out of him. You relish in the tone, the whimper that follows right after it. He really isn’t afraid to tell you how much he is enjoying what the two of you are doing.
As you continue to explore his tequila-scented mouth, both of his hands cup your ass, feeling his limber fingers bunch up the fabric of the bright green dress you’re wearing. He takes his time, giving you every minute to communicate any second thoughts. You moan impatiently, encouraging him to get under there already.
He chuckles, pulling the rest of the material up swiftly. His fingers grab at the skin of your barely covered ass cheeks roughly, the friction burning in the best way. A whimper escapes your throat, your mouth filling with the taste of him as your tongues meet. You’re sure he’s gripping those cheeks hard enough to bruise, not that you mind.
An increasing need has been growing since you first laid eyes on him, the need for him to touch you in the most sinful of ways. While his touch on your ass is electric, you are ready for much more. Your whimpers echo the thought, feeling needy for more of his touch, your hip movements going from fluid and purposeful to rigid and needy.
“What do you need, hmm?” He asks in-between kisses, one hand pushing up your dress to your waist as it caresses your bare hip. “Use your words, beautiful.”
“Need you to touch me,” the thought leaves your lips without your permission. How dare your brain betray you like that?
Eddie starts to kiss at your jaw, switching between nibbles and his tongue deliciously lapping at the skin. “Like how?” He asks in intervals, his voice soft, yet demanding. “Like this?” He grabs harshly at your ass, nails digging into the soft flesh. “Like this?” He asks again, tingles radiating down your skin as he lightly grazes your hip bone. “Or…like this?” His hand that rested on your hip bone flutters down to where heat radiates off your core, getting a feel of your soaked panties. “Oh my god, you’re so fucking wet.” He mutters, putting some pressure at the top of your mound.
Your hips start desperately grinding against his fingers, needing him to touch you. “Can you blame me?” You ask him, breath stuttering through it.
“Are you trying to flatter me?” He asks, pausing his pressure momentarily and backing off to study you. You stutter through an empty response, and he laughs kindly. “Cause flattery works, sweetheart.” His fingers move past the cotton barrier he's been making small circles against, delicately tracing along the wetness of your folds. You’re so slick, it’s like a damn slip and slide. The moment his fingers make contact with you, they’re soaked and in your juices.
“Oh shit—” you stutter, grinding on him helplessly. You can barely focus, your arms weak as you’re suddenly unable to hold your weight as you collapse on him. He's not touching you purposely, but just the feel of him sends a ripple down your spine. “Feels good.”
“Hmm.” He answers, noting the way you’re writhing so beautifully on top of him. He knew he would have you in a mess. In fact, he looked forward to it from the moment he saw you. He meticulously moves you onto your back, taking in your wide-eyed stare with a smirk. “Gonna take these off.” He mutters, fingers moving to the waistband of your panties. “Need a good look at you.”
You’re not entirely sure what he means until you see the look on his face as he stares at your pussy for the first time. His darkened stare, the slack smile he wears as he stares at you. Well not you, just the most vulnerable part of you. You’ve had a bit of experience in high school, but no one ever looked at your pussy like this. Like…it’s…
“Beautiful.” Eddie whispers, licking his lips. You watch him as he takes you in, admiring how wanted he makes you feel. Without a warning he lurches forward in between your legs, his tongue licking one long strip up your slick. Your thighs convulse, the pleasure so red hot, you can’t control the choked-out moan that escapes your lips if you tried. “Oh, you’re shaking, baby.”
His tongue moves more purposely to your clit, sucking on it and tapping with his tongue repeatedly. Your thighs clamp around his face, tensing up as every goddamn nerve is set on fire. You feel a slight huff of laughter against your puffy clit, the breath tickling you, causing you to giggle from the sensation. The giggle leads into a whimper, the small movements of his tongue sending you into overdrive. “Feels so—oh my god—I—” You stutter, unable to finish a single sentence.
He tugs your legs, forcing your knees against your chest to get even closer. A fierce heat starts in your stomach, startling the hell out of you. A great build slowly moves you, pushing you step by step over a high you’ve never reached before. Your stomach has never coiled so tightly, the heat never so intense. “Too much, too much.”
“You’re almost there, sweetheart.” He encourages you, watching every muscle in your legs tighten and feeling your abdomen tighten and release. “Oh, it’s gonna feel so good, baby. Wanna see you cum for me, see you fall apart, hear that pretty little mouth make the prettiest noises.”
Eddie slips a finger in, pumping it slowly at first, building up the speed quickly as he continues sucking. There’s something in you telling you to be embarrassed at how quickly your orgasm has snuck up on you, but from the foreplay of his expert lips and the mind-numbing words, it only makes sense.
“Cl-close…” You manage out, the heat making your way through your body, even making a stop in your head.
“Let me see you come apart, sweetheart.” He tells you, working his fingers at an unmatched rate.
The sensation sends you over the edge, your extremities shaking uncontrollably. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, a near primal moan leaves your mouth, a sound you didn’t even know you had the capability of making.
It takes you a minute to recover, Eddie working you through your whole orgasm and gently kissing your thighs until you come back to. He’s patient, waiting until your breathing slows down, kissing his way up your half-dressed torso. Eddie rests his body on yours, the tent in his pants meeting the heat of your center as his forearms support his weight on either side of your head. His thumbs sway at your temple, slowly watching as your eyes lose their glaze.
Your vision finally focuses back on him, his soft smile on his face welcoming as he watches you. His legs tense up, his muscles spasming as he resists thrusting into your heat. It’s teasing you, your hips accidentally moving upwards to meet the now wet stain on his polyester costume. “You’re wearing too much.” You tell him, whining softly.
“I’m sorry, should I take these off?” He asks, kissing you rapidly on the face right after. “Or if you’re done, I don’t blame you.”
“Done?” You ask incredulously. “Oh no, I’m not even close to done.” You tell him, giggling when he gives you a smirk.
“Just checking, sweetheart.” Eddie replies, kissing you rapidly again.
You’re finally back on earth, your hands reaching around him to look for where his costume opens. You had a feeling it would open from the back. You pull each Velcro apart one by one, your hands telling you as you move down that he’s not wearing anything underneath. You don't know if it's odd or the hottest thing in the world. Both, definitely both.
Your nails scratch at his skin at the last one, finally taking the shoulders off. You gasp as he helps you take out each arm awkwardly, only because you could finally see all the tattoos that his costume has covered up. “Holy shit.” You mutter, hands reaching out to palm at each one.
As he mouths at your neck, you push the rest of his costume down, figuring out it was a one piece. Ok. Steve might’ve been right about calling him a dork. But with his cunnilingus skills, who fucking cares? “You wanna fuck?” He asks, making his way down your neck, one hickey at a time.
You wrap your legs around his waist, tugging him down so the thin fabric meets your soaked pussy even harder. “Please?”
“When you ask so nicely, how could I deny?” He answers, leaving one last final nibble on your shoulder. He gets up without a warning, and you whine pathetically. “Jus’ takin off my pants sweetheart. Can’t put my dick in you if it’s still covered.”
You watch him pull down his pants, teasing you as it makes its way down his torso, his treasure trail, the v-line, you start drooling the moment his cock pops out. You figured he was big from his bulge pressed against you, but the material was apparently holding him back from his true length. You spend a good minute staring at it, how pink the head is, how thick he looks, it made you nearly feral.
“Enjoying the show?” Eddie asks. You glance back up at his face, heating up when you realize you've stared a lot longer than planned.
“Mmmhmm.” You tell him, not seeing any need to deny.
He lurches forward onto the bed, yanking giggles out of you. His hands roughly move up your torso to take your dress off, moving it over your head. He throws it over his shoulder, eyes raking in your tits like they’re in the Louvre. Hell, he’d take a polaroid and hang it there, despite the risk of security arresting and escorting him out immediately after.
“You are fucking gorgeous, baby.” He mutters, leaning into one of your tits mouthing at the nipple delicately, grazing it with his teeth, turning the mound into a shade of purple.
You can’t help yourself, reaching down to grab his cock. “Need you in me.” You urge him, smiling when he lets out a surprised whimper.
“Fucking—” he stutters out, biting on his lip. “Yeah, yeah, okay. I can do that.” He laughs, and before you have a moment to admire how adorable that was, you feel him line himself up. “Shit, you’re fucking tight.”
You can feel exactly what he means, the head barely pushing in. Even with how wet you are, Eddie's having difficulty pushing into you. Your mouth drops open, panting through it at the blinding pain and pleasure. He pauses, giving you a moment to adjust. “Feels so goddamn good, Ed.” You gasp, blindly reaching for him.
Blindly, because your eyes are unable to stay open from the sheer pleasure that has taken over your body.
“I know, baby I know.” He whispers, holding one hand to your face.
“Ok.”
He pushes in more, eliciting a high-pitched whine out of you. “You have any idea how fucking hot those little noises that you make are?” He asks, his voice husky and strained.
You laugh at his successful attempt at flattery, causing him to whine at the way your pussy tightens around him in sync. “Keep going.”
He pushes in a little bit more, your legs tensing around his torso as the noise caught in your throat is even louder. “You’re taking me so well, baby, what a good girl.” You tighten up at his praise, provoking Eddie to get the idea that praise is something that you desire. “Oh, you liked that, didn’t you, my good girl?” You tighten around him again, Eddie twitching in you as a response.
“More.” You manage out, your voice guttural. He pushes in just a little bit more. “Oh my god, you’re in my fucking stomach, so fucking deep!” You whine, eyes closed as you pulse around him.
“Just a little bit more, baby. You’re doing so well, such a good girl.”
“More.”
He pushes the rest of his cock in, finally able to rest his body on yours. You take your time adjusting to his size, inhaling, and exhaling with purpose as the pain subsides. “That’s a girl, take your time.” He mutters, watching you carefully.
“Kiss me please.” You whisper, opening your eyes to face the intensity radiating from his chocolate brown ones. He leans in for a lush kiss, your legs wrapping around him to pull him in tightly. His hand moves to your tit, playing with the nipple between two of his fingers. Your tongues meet, somehow knowing exactly what the other needs. “You can move now.” You whisper in between kisses.
Eddie, apparently a master at multitasking, lifts his hips without so much as stuttering in the kiss. You expected him to stop, but the new mix of sensation throws you off intensely. His first thrust causes you to shout directly into his mouth. You’re much more prepared for the second thrust, however unprepared for the force behind it. “Yeah?” He asks, pulling back and staring into your eyes.
You nod enthusiastically. “So good. Cock feels…so good.” You whine to him, legs unable to continue holding onto him as tight as they were. Now they’re floating in the air aimlessly, unable to focus on much except for how good and how deep he is. “How…this good?” The question you meant to ask was how he was so good at fucking like this, but your mouth was unable to form a single coherent sentence.
“Barely been in you for a minute, and you’re already cock-drunk, huh?” He borderline mocks you, fucking you faster with each thrust.
You grunt in response, fully accepting the label of cock drunk. “So…good, Eddie!” It’s just…fucking true, which is the only rational thought in your brain for the moment. Others are So Hot, and Big Ass Cock, and finally, Gorgeous fucking body.
“Your pretty pussy is so tight, baby, bein’ such a good girl for me.” Eddie sits up, pulling your ass down to where he can fuck you in a better position where he can hit your g-spot. He rests a hand sideways on your lower tummy, putting slight pressure on it. This sends a blinding hot pleasure into you as he repeatedly hits that spot.
“F-fuck, get-getting cl-close…” you stutter, feeling your tits bounce at the sheer force he's fucking you with.
“This is fucking embarrassing, but so am I, baby.” He mutters, starting to go at a faster rate, which you would've deemed impossible a few seconds ago. “Your pussy is so fucking good, can’t fuckin’ help myself.”
You half giggle, half moan at the flattery, not minding for one moment that he would cum so quickly. After all, he spent the first half paying most of his attention to you, so you understand if he's been pent up. While that is the reality of why, you can’t help but feel like hot shit for making someone as fantastic as Eddie cum so fast. His stamina and willingness to give on top of how gorgeous he is does nothing but boost your ego.
“Cum with me.” You beg him, also on the edge. “Cum in me.”
“Oh my god—” you make his hips stutter, and you smile with pride. “You sure, baby?” He asks, trying to make sure he covers his tracks.
“Cum in me, please, daddy!” It leaves your mouth before you’re unable to stop it, the daddy kink not quite something you break out on the first fuck most of the time.
Eddie, however, is a different breed. He meets the unexpected outburst with a growl, and you swear his cock twitches inside of you. “Of course, baby girl, whatever you want.” He grunts out. “Daddy is gonna fill you the fuck up.” He lurches forward so he’s skin on skin with you again so he can whisper in your ear. “When we go back downstairs, I’m gonna keep your panties, and you're gonna dance with my cum dripping down your fucking legs.” You tighten up around him, telling Eddie this is exactly what you wanted from him. The sweet mixture of praise and degradation makes your head spin with need. “You like that, huh? Of course, you’d like that you fucking slut.” His hips rut harshly against yours and at a stupid crazy speed. “If I catch you trying to clean yourself up, you’re gonna fucking hear about it, got it?”
You nod, entirely thrilled about this.
“Didn’t fuckin hear you, slut.”
“Got it, daddy.” You answer, right on the edge.
“You gonna cum with me, baby girl?” He asks, his voice strained.
“Mmhmm. Waiting for you.”
“Good fucking girl. I’m so close…fuck…gonna—” Eddie is interrupted by his own orgasm, which sends you over the edge with him. It’s not as intense as your last one, so you’re able to pay extra attention to the look on his face. His mouth half open, a deep moan leaving his throat.  Oh god, you’ll definitely be remembering this next time it’s only you and your imagination.
He collapses on you, his chest and forehead covered in sweat. The only sound in the air is you and Eddie catching your breath together. Your breath is finally back in your lungs, but your heart is still racing against his chest. He suddenly sits himself back on his forearms, petting at your forehead and hair gently. “Fuck, please go out with me on Saturday.” He whispers, quietly assessing the expression you wear on your face.
“Huh?” You ask him, unsure you heard him correctly.
“Go out with me on Saturday. Please, I can’t fuck a pussy this good and not take you out on a hot date.” He mutters softly, placing the gentlest of kisses on your lips.
“If you think I’m letting you go after this, you’re fucking insane.” You whisper back, framing his face to grab it for another lush kiss.
Eddie sighs, petting your hair. “Thank fucking god.” He pulls out of you, tugging a whimper out of you. He gives one last kiss, before moving down your torso. You almost ask what he was doing, when you feel two of his fingers push inside you quickly.
Your head jerks up, wondering what in the ever-living hell he's doing.
“Just helping by pushing the cum back in you, baby. Wanted to give you at least a fighting chance before it starts dripping down these stunning thighs of yours.” He places a wet kiss on your thigh, one last quiver radiating through it. “You good to stand up?”
“Hope so.” You laugh, scooching your ass down the plain comforter. Eddie tosses you your dress and gets dressed back into his cheap costume himself.
You assess Eddie, fixing his hair so he doesn’t look so disheveled. “You realize my lipstick is all over your neck and face, right?” You ask him, assessing him in all his post-nut glory. How the fuck is anyone this hot?
“Didn't I tell you earlier that I'm gonna wear this shit with pride, darlin?” He asks you, giving you a smile that makes you melt. “Wanna go downstairs and make-out on Steve's dad’s stupid chair?”
“If we make out I might wanna blow you.” You admit, the effects of the alcohol and the level of his hotness has still completely taken over your brain.
Eddie groans, and you swear his pupils dilate. “Fuck, I’ll take you into the nearest hallway closet if that happens, then you can get on your knees and suck my cock off like a good girl. You just tell me, yeah?”
You giggle as he opens the door and you nod enthusiastically, pretty much already in your head that hooking up with Eddie is nowhere near done.
When you reach the bottom of the steps, Eddie tugs on your hand straight to the leather chair in the corner, having you sit across his lap as his tongue makes its way down your throat again.
Eventually, after a mere ten minutes of teasing, Eddie has to lead you to a hallway closet, where yes, you worship him on your knees with his treasure trail meeting your nose.
That was the best fucking Halloween, ever.
-
Thank you so much for reading! I love to read your comments, replies, and reblogs. As always, reblogging is the best way to support your fic writers on tumblr.
Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinnschesthair @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you @names-were-taken @oddussy420
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cinnamonmilf · 11 days
Text
⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆ rapid eye movement
summary: you meet ellie in a dream
cw: reader mentions she is an english lit major if u don't like it imagine she said it was the major of your choice, flirty friendship but no dating yet (repost from old account)
BEFORE YOU READ!!!:
WHY BOYCOTT TLOU PALESTINE LINKS DAILY CLICK
"Before you speak don't move 'cause i don't wanna wakeup"
The bright light was making it hard to keep your eyes open, not a single cloud in sight. It was a beautiful place, there was no denying that. Spring had always been your favorite season: leafy trees, blooming flowers, green grass and sunny days. If spring was a place, this would be it.
You decided to explore it, feeling the soft breeze on your skin. There was a big meadow, with a beautiful forest next to it. The bushy green trees complimenting the flowery field. There was something about this place that was so peaceful. Like you were the only person in the world and everything worked for you, rather than against you.
It would be a shame to leave so soon, so you take a seat in between the flowers and take everything in. How could a place so beautiful exist?
Your tranquil state is quickly interrupted by the sound of the grass and dirt being step on. You turn your head to see who the culprit is: a freckley auburnette with big green eyes and, for lack of a better adjective, an angelic face. You were prepared to snap at whoever had taken the sweet blissful state away from you, but after seeing her there was no way.
She doesn't say a word. She sits next to you. You'd usually not even consider just letting a random stranger make their way to you and sit next to you but this felt different. Saying that you had never met this girl before was an understatement, yet it felt like seeing an old friend.
Her presence was warm and pleasant, you felt safe.
"If you are interrupting my moment shouldn't i at least know your name?" you ask her with a playful grin.
"Fair enough. I'm Ellie." She chuckles.
You tell her your name and she nods in acknowledgement.
"We haven't met, have we?" you inquire.
"Not that I'm aware, but it-"
"It feels like it," you complete her sentence before she can, earning a smile from her.
"Well, l've never seen you around here. Think I'd remember a pretty face like yours," she says will a smirk on her face. You scoff in response, finding her antics amusing.
"It's my first time here," you explain.
"Hmm, when you'd get here?"
"What?" You ask with a puzzled face. And suddenly you realize you can't remember how long you'd been here, let alone how you got here.
Before she can even answer your question you wake up by the obnoxious sound of your alarm.
7:00 a.m.
The dream was uneventful, to say the least, but there's something about it that makes you think about it over and over again throughout the day. It was one of those dreams that bring you unexplainable comfort, like a tender embrace, like feeling like a kid again, like feeling some sense of home in there.
And, well, of course there was Ellie. You kept trying to think if you'd seen her before. Her face plagued your thoughts the most. You'd never seen anyone like her, you'd never met anyone like her.
Something about her made you feel like you could spend hours and hours with her and still crave her company. It was ridiculous, you'd spend time how long with her? Fifteen minutes? And yet, you'd never felt that way with anyone before.
Alas, it was a dream. Just a dream. She was just a beautiful entity your psyche had created. Maybe your brain knew it's what you craved and was cruel enough to give it to you in the dream realm, only to get it taken away.
You realized it was useless to dwell on your dreams, so you ended up putting the thought of Ellie aside and continuing your day.
That was, until nighttime.
The warm ambience surrounded you once again and before you could take it all in, you heard that raspy voice that had been echoing in your mind all day.
"You left yesterday," she said.
"Had to go to school." You giggle at her frowny face. She rolled her eyes at you.
"Yeah, well, I didn't get to ask anything about you." And damn her flirty tone because it made you weak in the knees.
"What do you wanna know?"
"Just tell me about you." She shrugged.
"Well, I'm 21, I'm in college, I like cats, reading, animals in general, l like the color green and...I'm pretty boring, don't have much more to tell you.” You chuckle.
"I like green too."
"Really? That's your take on what i said?" You laugh.
"What was I supposed to say?" She protests with a laugh.
"Whatever," you roll your eyes at her now. "What about you?"
"Well, I'm 22, I'm also in college, I like space, science, comics," she tells you, not really sure what else to add on to the list.
"Space?"
"Yeah, like, planets and stars and Nasa and shit."
"Nice, is that your major?" you inquire further.
"Yeah, astrophysics.."
"Just how smart are you?" You ask. Frankly, surprised by the girl.
"Shut up." She laughs. "What about you?"
"English Lit." You explain.
"Suits you."
"Is that good?"
"Yeah, it's good." She responds with that cocky smile that you have grown to love in a couple minutes.
She had a sort of charm you hadn't really seen elsewhere. It was quite boyish and youthful. She had you a little mesmerized. It was quite stupid, considering you barely knew her, but it was true.
"Do you-" and before she could finish her question, you were once again sucked out of your dream.
You groan in annoyance. Annoyed from being woken up, but mostly by the cold morning air reminding you once again that she wasn't real.
Your brain was creative, you'd give it that. Astrophysics is something you didn't even know you could come up with.
You do the whole thing again. Get up, brush your teeth, go to school, try to pay attention to school even when you all could think of were Ellie's freckles and her peachy lips and her pretty dark lashes and the way she had a bun this time, rather than the half-up half-down hairstyle she had last time. Also, about the fact that she was going to ask you something. What was she going to ask you? You could only hope you'd be blessed tonight once more and be able to dream of her.
And so as the sun came down you prepared yourself to go to sleep.
"Please let me dream of her," you thought to yourself. Pleading your subconscious mind.
You don't know when you finally fell asleep, but you were once again in the forest you had began to grow fond of.
"You have a tendency of leaving mid conversation."
There she was.
You turned to face her, "I don't really control it, you know?" You laugh.
"Yeah yeah, whatever."
"What were you going to ask me yesterday?" You ask as you softly kick her foot with yours, an affectionate gesture.
She looks down at your feet, pleased by it. Did the smirk ever leave her face or was it permanently there?
"I was asking if you have a boyfriend."
"Boyfriend? Ew no."
She laughs at your frowned eyebrows and your disgusted face.
"So you like girls?"
"Why? Are you gonna ask me out?"
You'd later cringe at your own question once awake. How on earth was she supposed to take you out?
"Maybe." She said nonchalantly.
"Right. Do you have a girlfriend?"
"Not to worry, all yours."
"You are kind of cocky, do you know that?"
"Oh, come on, you like it."
"Do I, now?" You ask with an incredulous chortle.
"I mean, you do get nervous every time, so l'd say so." She shrugged.
You could immediately feel your cheeks heating up. How could a girl make you lose your composure so easily.
"You are so annoying," you said, to which she just laughed.
-
Night became favorite time of the day from then on. All you did was repeat the cycle everyday: wakeup irritated, hope your day passed as quick as possible (not without reminiscing of your dream all day long), and go to sleep in hopes of dreaming of her again. And again.
And again. Which, to your surprise, you did. Every single night you dreamt of her.
Somehow your dreams went from feeling like minutes with Ellie, to feeling like a hours. In which you talked about everything.
She was the most fascinating person you'd ever encountered. She was smart as hell, funny, kind and of course, had that little cockiness that never really left her side. Which -she was right- you did really like.
Your dreams had always been quite vivid, but you had never appreciated it until now. You were able to really examine her face, hear her voice clearly, see the detail on her tattoo. You'd feel her hand against yours when you walked around the place, or her hair on your fingers as you raked them through her hair when she'd lied on your lap. Nonetheless, it was always accompanied by that soft and warm glow that came with the dream. You could only imagine how much more you’d cherish it all in real life.
And that was the problem. You were completely and absolutely enamored by a girl in a dream. A girl that didn't even exist. But how could you go on with your life knowing you'd never find anyone like her, knowing the perfect girl for you was nowhere to be found?
Life started seeming unappealing to you. Taking class, hanging out with friends, going out. None of it made sense. All you could think of all day long was the night. Every single hour you spend awake seemed like one more hour of you and Ellie being apart. It was eating you alive and you were allowing it.
As dusk arrived you went straight to bed and let yourself fall into a deep slumber.
Your favorite girl was there, waiting for you. You went to hug her. Ellie hugged you back, allowing herself to relax into your arms.
"Missed you," you whispered.
"You say that everyday," she chuckled.
"I miss you everyday," you giggled in response.
She took your hand and the two of you began your stroll. Admiring the trees, the lustrous pond, the flowers. It never got old.
Today you were telling Ellie about school. You mentioned how you'd lost interest lately, not really bothering enough to commit to your studies as you used to.
"Why's that?" She asked.
"I don't know. I don't really care about much lately. Not school, not my friends, not reading." It mildly concerned Ellie, but she didn't say anything.
"You must care about something," she said as she nudged your shoulder.
"I care about being here with you." You shrugged.
"Yeah, but, something else." She insisted.
You shook your head. You didn't want to lie to Ellie. She was the one person you could talk to. And the truth was that she was the only thing to seem worthy of your attention as of late. "I just wanna be here with you all the time."
"It doesn't work like that, doll," she cooed as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
You felt a tear trail down your cheek, one that Ellie was quick to gently wipe off with her thumb.
She held you for the rest of your time together.
The next morning you slowly opened your eyes, trying to adjust to the change in lightening. You didn't feel vexed like every other day.
You had a tight knot on your chest that you couldn't explain. A fast-growing affliction that wasn't usually there.
After that night, you never dreamed of Ellie again.
-
It had been three months since you had last seen her. The first few weeks were pure agony.
There was a lot of crying and screaming involved. You were confused and angry and miserable. There was no way to fix it and you didn't even know what you were feeling.
There was no one you could talk to either. What were you supposed to say? That you fell for someone in a dream and now you couldn't deal with the fact that your brain wouldn't let you dream of her anymore?
You kept going to sleep every night hopeful of seeing her again, but it was completely useless. You eventually gave up, realizing it wasn't going to happen.
You were forced to resume your life. You focused yourself on studying, hanging out with your friends, going back to your beloved books. Everything was starting to go back to normal. And yet, there was not a single day where you didn't think of her.
You were headed to your favorite café. Wanting to get some studying done and leaving your apartment for a little bit. As you finally arrived, you settled on your favorite table, put your headphones on and got to work.
Truthfully, your table was a mess. Your computer open, books everywhere and sticky notes all over the place. But it helped you get the work done and that's what mattered most.
After a couple hours you decided to pack everything up and make your way back home, sleep finally sneaking its way up to you.
As you were walking out the door you heard steps hot on your trail.
"Hey, you left this."
Your turned around to see who the familiar voice belonged to. She was handing you a notebook, one you must've missed in the midst of your mess.
As you moved your eyes up to thank the kind stranger, you were met with those two piercing eyes that hadn't been able to leave your mind. The short haired girl with auburn hair, freckles and button nose was standing right in front of you, in the flesh.
It was Ellie.
-
a/n: hi this is a repost from my old account :) i’ll repost part 2 in a couple days and while i write part 3. hopefully it doesn’t flop massively
taglist @fleshunger @elsbunny222 @whore4abby
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skullvgirl · 12 days
Text
needy!nagi ིྀ | headcannons
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incl. nagichi ≧▽≦
warnings: school!au, suggestive, fem reader, fluff ooc ( ? )
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an's: idrk if this follows the theme of [ ooc trait x character ] yall, nagi is kinda need no?
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needy!nagi who follows you around, everyyyywhere, like theres an invisible leash attached to your hand and his neck, you literally had to force him too leave when he tried following you into the bathroom
needy!nagi who calls for you to do even the littlest things, because somehow you 'do it better' or 'make it look easier'
needy!nagi who forgets all rules physical boundaries when he's near you, who has to hold you always and for as long as possible
needy!nagi who makes the biggest fuss when you have to leave the house without him. even if it's just a 5 minute outting from your house to the store he acts like your moving half way across the world { but you are he'd say }
needynagi who texts you all the time, 24/7 365 days a year is always blowing up your phone asking you and talking about the most redicoulus things
"did you tie your shoes before you went out ?"
"did you make sure too look both ways when crossing the street?"
and don't even get me started on when he's needy, needy
an obnoxious and repetitive beeping sounds on your alarm and you groan, twisting your body uncomfortably in the shared bed sheets before finally turning it off.
"seriously morning already..." you mumbled quietly, the darkness shrouding your thoughts.
i need to get ready for school.
and you did just that. at least you were going to before you realized there was another person in your bed, someone who felt very familiar.
oh no...
"nagi ???" you whisper-yelled it, patting his face lightly and turning the lamp on to get a clear veiw of your boyfriend.
"nagi wake up, your not supposed to be here" you sat up and began shakimg him this time.
nagi only groaned and wrapped his arms around his arms around your waist, nuzzling into the side of your thigh. "shhh, m' tryna sleep"
you shook your head and attempted to unwrap his hands from your body, with much struggle, he was surprising strong for being half asleep.
"nagi stop, nagi it's monday—a school day, you were supposed to be gone last night, why didn't your parents pick you up?"
"didnt tell them too"
"didnt tell them too...whadday mean didn't tell them too—im gonna get in trouble—wait a minute, nagi you didn't..."
"didnt what" his voice unmuffled as he moved his head to rest on your lap, his eyes staring directly at your own.
"you didnt lie to your parents and say you could stay for the whole week...did you?" you cupped his cheeks, studying his expression.
he didn't answer, "kiss me"
"nagi now is not the time—"
"kiss me pretty, please?"
you stared at him for a moment before leaning down, softly pressing your lips on his.
"good now?"
he looked dazed, and he was quiet so long you'd thought he didn't hear you. "almost"
your hands which had previously been rubbing soothing strokes across his face were quickly held behind your back.
he kissed your belly softly, relentlessly pressing butterflies into your body. "nagi that tickles" you giggled, trying to break free from his grasp.
"really? does it?" he murmured, rubbing his nose in the crevasse of your thigh.
"it does, now let go we have to get ready for school before my parents wake up"
he continued nuzzling your body however, then began slowly pushing his other hand against your chest to lean you back.
"i can make you feel alot more than tickling if you let me"
your cheeks felt hot. jeez, what has gotten into him !
"mmh, tempting but we cant and you know that—look it's already 6:09 we gotta g—OH!"
your stentence was cut off by the sensation of nagi feeling you through your shorts. his hands releasing your wrists long ago, he was now tugging at your pj's in hot desperation, probing his nose against your—
"nagi! what are you doing! school remember? we have to be there at 7"
"but do we reallyyyy..." nagi groaned, the vibrations sending shudders up your spine.
"y-yes, really, we have to be there, my parents own this house remember? not me"
"fine, but ill only go under one condition"
you sighed in preparation, for whatever rediculous reason was coming your way.
"and that is?"
"i get to stay over for the rest of the week AND, you sit on this right here..." he pointed too his mouth, and you squeezed your thighs together at the proposition.
"nagi, staying over defeats the purpose of you leaving, a-and i dont think that second option would be good for us either..."
"you wanna test to see?"
"i-i,—test and see what?"
"how bad our second option would be"
"..." he began moving in your silence, flipping your legs over his shoulders and kissing your belly once again.
"i'll take that as a yes"
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an's: nagi is needy but somehow this still came out ooc, ( do i consider that a win or what...? )
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the-modern-typewriter · 5 months
Note
Could you please do a villianxhero prompt?
They were on the same side. Sort of. Temporarily. Admittedly, it had been a temporary that had stretched on far longer than either of them had expected.
It had been nearly a year.
"I wouldn't," the hero said, as one of the villain's circle stood up to go find his absent leader in the study upstairs.
The villain's left-hand simply sneered at the hero before continuing on their way.
The hero sighed. They could feel a headache forming, but they moved to rise either way, with the celestial tug of everything they were.
"I wouldn't."
The hero glanced over at the villain's right-hand.
The right-hand smiled at them. "It serves him right. And it wouldn't do him bad to remember how much of a buffer you are when you're around."
"He'll get hurt."
"Then he should have listened to you, shouldn't he?"
Well, the hero didn't exactly have a good argument for that. While they'd learned to get on well with the villain's right hand, they still clashed frequently with the obnoxious and entirely too sycophantic left.
"Seriously," the right-hand said, softer. "It's not like you're planning to stop absorbing the worst of them any time soon, is it? Pick your battles."
"They're not that bad with me."
"You know how to handle them - better than anyone."
"Don't let them hear you say that."
The right-hand snorted.
They both looked up, towards the ceiling, towards the villain seething with setbacks out of view.
Something crashed.
"I'm not going to say 'I told you so,'" the hero said. "That feels mean."
"Don't worry." The right-hand sounded positively cheery. "I will."
The left-hand slunk back downstairs before they could respond, pale and shaken. It was, admittedly, a little satisfying. The villain was definitely a bad influence.
But, also, really. The villain telegraphed their moods fairly obviously and they'd got better at retreating when they felt inclined to be vicious. It wasn't a spoken boundary but it was a boundary to anyone paying attention.
It was possible that the hero paid too much attention. They just couldn't quite seem to stop.
"They told me to send you up," the left-hand muttered, with great resentment.
"Bold of them to assume you can send me anywhere."
"Please," the left-hand spat.
The hero grinned at them, before standing.
The right-hand's eyes gleamed, like they knew something that no one else had cottoned onto yet.
The hero shot them a two fingered salute, before they made their way upstairs. They rapped their knuckles against the door before entering.
"I've been summoned," the hero said, leaning against the door. "And you look like hell."
The villain scowled, dragged their hands through their hair.
The hero winked back at them.
The villain's glare intensified, but the tension slipped from their shoulders. "My head is killing me," the villain said. "I'm going to slaughter the next person who interrupts me."
The hero hummed, moving over to the sofa in the corner of the room. They flopped down, all casual like. The villain didn't even make a show of being casual or pretending to work for a minute more before they beelined over, all but shoving their face into the hero's neck.
The hero raised their eyebrows, surprised, then softened. The cupped the back of the villain's head, stroking through the dark locks. The villain melted against them. The hero felt something inside them ease too; a jungle cat finally settled and purring.
"It's disgusting that you're one of the few tolerable people left in the world," the villain said.
"Woe betide the minions. They try so hard."
"Don't take their side. You're mine."
The hero huffed, but didn't correct it, far too busy stifling a smile. Mine. It shouldn't have got to them like it did; there was a time when the word would have made them snarl with fury. They tucked their chin atop the villain's head. The connection between the two of them buzzed pleasantly.
They didn't ask if the villain wanted to talk about it. Inevitably, though, they did.
When the two of them wandered downstairs three hours later, the villain was themselves again.
"So," the right-hand asked, when the two of them were alone. "When's the wedding?"
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levmada · 4 months
Text
Difficulties Levi has had to accept and adjust to since being discharged from the hospital—which aren’t mutually inclusive just yet—were countless already. Then came the matter of his hair.
There is one person and one person only whom he considers trusting with his hair.
Actually, he trusts you without question regardless of whatever it is. He'd just be lying if he said he wasn't nervous.
Your shared bathroom has a mirror stretching the length of the counter. He refused to sit in his wheelchair and get it covered in hair, and maneuvering into a proper chair wasn't difficult. He finds an excuse to look away from his obnoxiously overgrown bangs and awkwardly tacked-on white scar tape—and looks for you in the corner of the mirror. You set down the wheelchair somewhere outside his line of sight.
It's been several months, but he still finds it hard to accept.
He looks ahead again when he hears your footsteps, so he looks nothing but annoyed by what is surely a chore. In truth he’s so nervous he can hear his own heartbeat, and doesn’t hear you announce yourself.
You unwrap a towel on a the counter to reveal all your supplies. Nothing extravagant, it being everything he asked you to get.
Before you begin, you press a kiss to the top of his head.
The snipping sounds are terribly loud in his ears, little scrapes of a fork on a plate. It’s even the hardest thing to mess up the shaping where his undercut lays in the back, but even still.
He didn't imagine it like this. Certainly not so many memories coming, when over three decades have passed since someone else did this—Mom. In his memories she has him sat on the thin edge of their rusty bath, her kneeling behind him, and trimmed with a dull pair of fabric scissors. He can’t remember for sure, but there’s no way she made it look bad.
He hated getting his hair cut, he remembers just now. They only had one hairbrush, and the guilt would eat him up over Mom, who used it obsessively to keep her long hair neat and perfect.
So the feel of her fingers carding through his hair, or using the metal comb, was extremely painful. She'd chastise him gently. But he still couldn't bring himself.
Yet, now today, he hates himself for having hated it.
Levi can’t help but glance at his neck in the mirror. Later on, when he first asked Kenny to cut his hair, he threatened to clip his tiny throat from his shoulders with a pair of shears if he ever asked for help with something so stupid ever again. If he couldn't do something that basic by himself, he was destined to die a weak runt.
It was an odd overreaction from Kenny in retrospect.
He is weak now.
But he doesn't need to be strong any longer.
Unsure of how to feel, he makes an effort not to think at all until you pipe up that you want him to see. You pluck a handheld mirror from the counter for him to see.
He immediately makes a face, which he shoots at your reflection. "Hey. This is too long."
You smile. "I wanted to be extra careful so I don't go too short. Too much is better than too little. It's even, right?"
It is even.
He nods stiffly, pinning his tongue between his teeth as he looks away from the mirror. Like back then, this is suddenly painful, but only in the way that shows him another way in which you tell him that you love him.
Levi masterlist | main masterlist
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lanadelnegan · 21 days
Text
Ghost - Part 2
Negan x Glenn’sSister!Reader
Part 1 here
smut will be in part 3, don't worry :)
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“Y/n!” Maggie practically tackled me as soon as I walked through the gates, followed by the others. 
“The hell you been?” Daryl grunted with an angry expression, refusing to hug me. 
“He’s been out looking for you everyday since you left.” Maggie clarified. 
I pushed him playfully as I walked by. “You knew I’d be back, I told you I didn’t want to be found.” 
After all the hellos and welcome backs, I finally made it back to my house, thrilled to be alone again. That was too much. 
While unpacking my things along with some of the items I stole from the cabin, I noticed my picture of me and Glenn was missing. No, no, no. Please tell me I didn’t leave it. It was the only thing I had left of him. 
A knock on my door distracted me and I went to answer, finding Rick on the other side. 
“Hey, heard you were back. Just wanted to come say hi.” 
“Hey, its good to be home.”
“Listen, a lots happened since you left. You need to know about the Saviors. They’ve been here a few times already. They’re scheduled to return tomorrow.” Rick’s hand rested on his hips as he looked down. “I thought you’d wanna know.” 
I forced a smile. “Thanks for the heads up.”
I closed the door and exhaled a breath. It’s a good thing they’re coming tomorrow. I need to meet this asshole and learn his ways. Learn how to destroy him and what makes him weak. 
I settled back in, had some dinner, and decided to read some of my book. When I opened the page, the corner was dog-eared and at a place I didn’t remember reading. 
Oh my god. I have never in my life dog-eared a page…..
Should I be relieved that I’m not crazy? Or sad that my mystery man left without saying goodbye? It doesn’t matter. I reminded myself and went upstairs to go to bed. Stopping in the doorway, my jaw dropped at the empty space where my bed used to be. Not even a pillow left behind. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. 
Maybe I’ll kill them all. Not just Negan. Fucking pricks. 
I slept on the couch downstairs. Luckily I still had that left. I woke in the morning to the sound of a loud, obnoxious voice outside. It sounded familiar. I didn’t bother changing out of my sleep clothes or brushing my hair before heading outside. I couldn’t let them think  I was scared or hiding. If my plan was going to work, I needed to be assertive. 
I quickly joined the others, who were standing around Rick and that’s when I saw him. Negan. His back was turned to me, but I knew it was him because a baseball bat rested on his shoulder. He was wearing a leather jacket, and his hair was black, slicked back, and…. Oh god. 
That can’t be… 
I suddenly felt sick, like I could faint any moment. 
“Reeelax, Prick. We’ll be in and out in no time.” He patted Rick’s shoulder before waving a finger in a circular motion and signaling his men to start their routine intrusion. Negan whistled, spinning on his heels before instantly locking eyes with me. His arrogant smirk faded into regret the moment he saw me. I turned away, quickly walking back to my house.
“Shit, wait.” i heard him call from behind me.
I ignored him and made it all the way to my porch before his hand grabbed my wrist and spun me around. 
“Baby, please. Listen.” 
“I am not your Baby. What the hell is wrong with you?!” I said through my teeth, jerking out of his grip. 
“Please, just let me explain.”
“And if I don’t? You’ll just forcefully break into my house anyway! So sure! Come on in.” I spit out furiously as Negan followed me into my house. Two of his men were already inside, lifting my couch. 
My hands flew up. “Oh, great.” 
“Put it down.” Negan ordered his men who gave him a funny look in return. “Are you deaf or fucking stupid? Put. It. Down. This house is off limits.”
“Yes sir.” They obeyed, setting my couch back down and awkwardly left. Negan and I stood in silence for a moment before he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a picture. It was the one of me and my brother and I felt my throat closing. 
“When you fell asleep that night, I carried you to bed and found this on your nightstand. I knew you looked familiar, but once I realized..” He paused, looking up at you. “..I felt so guilty. So I left. And I haven’t stopped thinking about you once. Baby, I am so sorr-”
I laughed loudly, cutting his sentence off. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes so I looked up at the ceiling to hold them in. "You cannot be fucking serious right now. You murdered my brother, in the worst way possible, and then you have the nerve to give me a half ass apology?!” I scoffed, shaking my head. 
He set the picture on the end table and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Alright, what’s it gonna take for you to forgive me? You want me to get down on my knees and beg?” He walked closer, towering over me. 
“Yes, actually.” 
His smile widened as he looked back and forth between my eyes, but I remained serious. He shook his head in disbelief, but finally gave in. Leaning his bat against the back of the couch, he kneeled in front of me. 
“I’m so sorry, baby. Please, forgive me.”
"Let me bash your head in. Then I'll consider it."
An uncomfortable silence filled the room and he nodded towards his bat. 
"Fine, go ahead." He whispered.
"Wh-what?"
"Go ahead, doll. Bash my brains out, if that’ll make you feel better." 
I walked over to the bat hesitantly, not taking my eyes off of him. When I stood in front of him again, I looked down at the bat in my hands - the same one that killed Glenn. My tears spilled over the wood and I dropped it like it burned my skin. 
My knees buckled beneath me before Negan caught me, pulling me close to him and adjusting us so that he was holding me in his lap. I sobbed into his chest as he held me tightly, stroking my hair while his chin rested against the top of my head.
"Goddamn it, doll. I am so fucking sorry. I can’t say it enough. I wish I could bring him back." Negan sounded as if he was crying himself.
I let him hold me a moment longer before I shoved him away and stood up. "Please just go. I don’t want to see you again." 
He looked at me pleadingly as he stood, and for a moment I let myself imagine his sincerity until my gaze returned to the floor and he left without another word, taking his stupid bat with him.
2 weeks later...
I’ve fully betrayed myself. Thinking of Negan like he was the only man to exist. My days ran together, and the more time went by, the more I missed my brother, and the more I resented myself for fantasizing about the man who took him from me.
The loud rumbling of engines vibrated my ears as I washed shampoo out of my hair. Stepping out of the shower, I wrapped a towel around my body and approached my bedroom window, moving the curtain slightly.
Rick's back was facing my window while Negan stood in front of him. I remained still, trying to listen to their conversation and also to avoid drawing attention to myself in the window. 
Sensing my stare, Negan's eyes darted up, instantly meeting mine. I couldn't look away, being frozen in mix of emotions that I didn't know was hatred or lust. Or both. 
A smirk appeared on his face, causing Rick to turn and look towards the window, making me quickly drop the curtain and step back. I brushed my hair, threw on some shorts and a tank top and headed downstairs. As soon as I reached the bottom, there was a knock on the door. My heart raced and I scolded myself on the inside for smiling, quickly replacing it with a frown. Get a fucking grip.
I opened the door, probably with too much eagerness. "I thought i told-"
Oh.. it's just..
"The hells going on with you and Negan?"
"What?" 
"Ya heard me."
I stared at Daryl confused and shocked, not understanding where this sudden confrontation was coming from.
"Nothing! Nothing is going on, what is that even supposed to mean?" I looked past Daryl to find the Saviors' truck already gone and it felt like a punch to my gut.
"I saw that little exchange from your window. Not to mention his last visit when he kicked the saviors outta here." Daryl’s hands rested on his hips and luckily no one else was around to hear his little outburst. This was the most I’d ever heard him speak. 
"Daryl, where is this coming from? How could you seriously think I could ever have an interest in him after what he did?!"
Daryl’s head dropped. "Glenn made me promise if anything ever happened to him, that I’d look after ya."
Tears filled my eyes. 
“We care about ya. Just trying ta keep you safe.”
"I know." You smiled sympathetically before Daryl turned to leave. "Wait.. they left quickly this time. What did they take?" 
"You should know. He only went to your house."
I frowned, closing my front door and suddenly the air around me felt different. I looked around for any trace of him, but it seemed the only thing he left was a pit in my stomach and a faint trail of leather cologne. I was getting ready to head upstairs when something caught my eye from the kitchen table. A rose, lying next to a folded piece of paper.
Meet me at our place tonight. We need to talk. 
Part 3 here
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chococolte · 1 year
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What? I think I might be addicted to you writing?? Like, this is hands down the best yandere/sagau blog I’ve come across. I just feel so loved with the way you write the interactions between the reader and characters! And my god complex is very well fed right now! Finally some good fucking food :)
I’d like to entrust you with my comfort character, my baby boi, Venti. Would you please do sagau touching his wings in his archon form, like how you did draconic Zhongli? And if it isn’t too much, could you write something for sagau calling Venti “good boy” as well? Ty!
word count. 975
୨୧ — ꒰ cw. yandere, unhealthy relationships, possessive & obsessive thoughts/behaviors, religious + cult themes, sagau + cult au. i do not condone yanderes irl.
୨୧ — ꒰ a/n. aaa thank you!!!! sorry this one took me so long, but here you go! i mixed your two requests together here, so i hope you don't mind (though he'll still get his own separate good boy post, eventually). i hope you like it!! ♥
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Venti's wings spread the moment you touch the soft skin of his spine.
It's an impulse, purely instinctive. His body acts before his mind, and his wings are the most primal part of his form— they react to any outside stimuli within moments, and to you, especially; always you. Before Venti can bite his tongue and control himself, his wings fan out, his feathers ruffling.
Venti's wings are broad and a bold white, stark against the golden light of your throne room. Every individual feather is soft and delicate, sensitive to the lightest touch. From where he sits by your feet, he looks up at you with wet eyes and unshed tears of euphoria, fringed by dark black lashes.
He lets out a small, quick breath, almost a whine, when you run your fingers over his feathers. There's no cruelty in your touch, no callousness to your movements—you move elegantly, every gentle scrape of your nails against his back and rub of your hands leaves him shuddering, filled with the urge to mutter every prayer in your name.
You massage the small area connecting his wings to his back. Venti arches his spine, chest heaving with rhapsodies of pleasure. His fingers curl around your robes, pulling them tight enough his knuckles turn white. He hides his face in the warmth of your lap, taking in every breath with the intent to remember your scent.
"Your Grace," he mumbles into the silk of your fabrics, body jolting when you brush against the tender, velvety skin at the base of one of his feathers. Venti bites the inside of his cheek, holding back a loud, obnoxious whimper. As you take your fingers upward and gently lift one of his feathers, he has to stop himself from making any salacious sounds.
"A-Ah, please… more! Please—" Venti chokes on his words, sputtering as you rub his feathers in-between your fingers. His wings twitch, tensing with rapture. His heart swells and sings in his chest when he catches a glimpse of the smile on your face— he's pleasing you, even if he must make a fool out of himself to do so.
Venti is only mildly embarrassed, though the pure happiness of being so close to you outweighs any shame he may feel. When it comes to you, there's no limit to what he'd do; ask him to throw his life away, and he will do so without question. Ask him to show you the most vulnerable parts of himself, and he'll do it without any hesitation. Ask him to spread his wings and soul, whatever part of him you desire to see, and he will do it without thinking. Repercussions matter little when it comes to his god.
He's thought of this moment before— latching onto your thighs, begging to be toyed with, the warm comfort of your presence so close to him; having you play with his feathers and wings in your hands, showing you every dark, nasty urge he's kept hidden away. A paradisiacal reverie he's imagined so much that every moment is coordinated, practiced and perfect. He says this, you say that-- but nothing could compare to the sweet reality of your touch, the truth of basking in your light by the bottom of your throne, of your lovely benevolence— he could never go back to dreams, now.
You trace the bone of his wings, and Venti follows, tucking his wings inward so you don't have to reach to pet the tips. The mere thought of you having to reach for anything at all is revolting. The world is yours to command; the rest of them simply live within it. Whatever it is you wish of him, he will do it. If you wished to take his wings and pluck every feather, he would let you.
A sharp shiver breaks him out of his thoughts when you move back down, rubbing at the base of his wings. All too quickly, Venti's heart lurches to his throat, his ribcage moving with every breath.
He stifles a moan, chest convulsing with every intake of air as you continue to gently handle his feathers. You tug softly at one of them, and he presses himself further against you before he can think, mind muddied and clouded with mist. All he can think of is you, you, you. You're the only thing worth thinking about; the only thing worth caring about.
You laugh, and Venti mewls. Any composure befitting of one of The Seven is discarded, completely forgotten. His many titles and epithets, prayers that speak his praises and ballads of his history are meaningless, now— in comparison to you, none of it matters. You are everything, and he wishes for nothing more than for this moment to be frozen in time. Any moment spent with you is heaven. Your laughter is light and mellifluous, his ears and mind besotted by the mere sound. He could listen to you for an eternity.
"Good boy," you hum, and Venti's mind breaks. His shoulders shake, and his wings flutter, twitching and tensing all at once. "Just my good boy, right?"
"Just your good boy," Venti says fervently. He looks up at you, barely able to bring himself to meet your heated gaze, but somehow still manages without losing his mind. "Just yours."
He moves to say it again, but his words hitch in his throat when you suddenly move your hands upwards, forgoing his wings. Your fingers attach themselves to his hair, threading through his dark locks with gentleness he knows he has done nothing to deserve.
"Only mine," you say, a smile audible in your voice. A shudder runs through his body at your tone. Despite how loud his heartbeat is, he hears you clearly above all else. No matter what, he will always hear you.
"Only yours," he whispers back.
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Villain who actually used to be sinister and obnoxious is now an AMNESIAC lil softie😩😩😩
For whatever reason, the villain blocked the hero's hit perfectly. Not only that, but when the hero went in for a kick, the villain managed to throw them off balance. Before the hero could fall to the ground, the villain caught them, arm around the hero's waist, pulling them closer than decency allowed.
The villain's eyes widened and a gasp escaped them. Despite the hero's blush, they tried to look grumpy and annoyed - as so often - but the villain could tell it was just for show. What a night. They were exhausted and confused.
"Sorry," the villain whispered. "I almost hit you."
They pulled themselves up and with them the hero.
"No, it's fine, it's good." As soon as possible, the hero took a step back and the villain still felt the warmth of their waist on their fingertips. Was it possible to yearn for someone they had forgotten? Or maybe it was the other way around. Maybe they hadn't forgotten the hero at all. They remembered parts of them, not the whole picture but the most beautiful pieces, it seemed.
"I'm sorry if I-"
"Your muscle memory seems to be pretty good. I think you learnt how to fight at a very young age. Which is...sad." The hero looked at them and their face softened. Suddenly, the villain felt a familiar pain in their chest. Something was hitting close to home. "But you're not as aggressive as before. We need to work on that."
"I appreciate that you want to help me, really. But I think I don't want to be violent," the villain said. The hero touched their own chin, thinking intensively. That was familiar too.
"I've told you a lot of people want you dead," the hero said slowly. "Killing you would turn the whole city upside down. Every criminal tries to be on top of the whole network."
"Can't I just, I dunno, retire?"
"If you want criminals to take over and burn everything down to prove that they are the one on top of the food chain...sure." The hero took in a deep breath. "It's hard to admit but I need you. This city needs you. You keep things organized. You cause damage, yes, but if it wasn't you, it would be five different criminals at five different locations and I don't have the time nor the energy for that."
"Seems like I was a big deal before they fried my brain," the villain said. From what they had been told, they had been a horrible human being. They didn't really miss not remembering.
But there was one thing they wished they hadn't forgotten.
One person.
"You have no idea," the hero whispered. They were quiet for a moment but the villain was sensing that their annoyed and grumpy mask was slipping from their face. "Sometimes it feels pretty lonely. We used to talk about that every now and then."
"We used to talk?" the villain asked, even though they knew they hadn't always tried to murder the hero. Trying to remember was like going through mist and when they had seen the hero for the first time again, it had felt like a warm light in the middle of all the thick fog was calling them.
The hero smiled.
"Most of the time you tried to make me join you. You loved taking me hostage."
"That doesn't sound like a good thing." The villain was disgusted at their own actions. What on earth had driven them to such drastic measures? It was like the villain from the past was someone else.
"...no, of course it wasn't a good thing. It was...different." The hero cleared their throat. "Talking to you was refreshing in a sense. I don't know, it is hard to explain. Our relationship was difficult."
"Like a love-hate-thing?" The hero looked at them but didn't say anything. That was enough of an answer for the villain and acid started to burn their throat. So, the hero had liked them and now they seemed annoyed by them.
What if the hero had liked their old version more? The villain that was violent and aggressive? What if the hero wouldn't like how they were now? What if the hero absolutely loathed them now because they weren't the right villain?
"I was taught not to show any emotions to my enemies. I think that has made me quite bitter but you challenged that. I was angry at you and I hated you a lot of the time. But in your soft moments I loved your voice. I loved your thoughts. I loved when you were kind to me. When you decided to saved me before death could take me. I loved it when you talked to me and argued with me without being an asshole. And those mixed feelings for you conflicted me."
And now? The villain's heart was beating in their chest, loud enough, they swore, for the hero to hear.
"Of course, I knew you wouldn't understand it. You were doing this for your own benefits. You were a strategist, after all. It is more complicated now for me. You're someone I like a little too much."
"You've been waiting to get that off your chest, haven't you?" The hero looked at the ground and back at the villain. Their ears were red and they closed their hands into fists over and over again. They closed their eyes, swallowed.
"I know training can get tiresome and-"
"I remember talking to you. You're pretty much the only thing I remember. Little details. What you look like. What you smell like. Honestly, I thought we were married when I saw you for the first time after waking up." The hero's blush stretched over their cheeks. "Maybe you can give me some more tips? Punches and kicks, I mean."
"Y-yeah of course." The villain smiled softly.
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divineei · 4 months
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TOOTM  one. to keep a promise
! ko kyungjun x fem!reader
a/n. this shit took so long omfg. whoever said writing was easy can suck my nonexistent left nutsack.
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"i don't get why this is even a discussion."
"oh, cmon! you don't think the conflict around it is interesting?"
"whether its interesting or not doesn't matter because this shouldn't be an existing argument. if your partner or someone you love commits a murder and there's serious evidence pointing back to them, how could you just act like it's not even there?"
"dude, you're missing the point entirely. the question is not about what you would do in that situation, it's about what you should believe."
"that's so stupid. the only factor you should need is evidence. it doesn't matter if the accused is a long time friend, your partner, or even your child. sure, your judgment on their character is still relevant, but if their fingerprints were found at the crime scene there's just no way you can objectively ignore their culpability. at that point, you should either believe your partner is guilty or at best remain undecided."
"in that case, would you say that following the evidence is morally required?"
"absolutely."
"you don't think there might be other ethical factors to consider?"
"for example?"
"even though the evidence is strong, there's still a chance they might not be guilty. imagine how it would feel like to be innocent and have no one believe you, not even your own partner! by not supporting them you run the risk of seriously hurting them on a crucial time of need. and consider what this lack of trust would do to your relationship. could you really go on after seriously suspecting–and believing–they're a murderer?"
"are you saying you'd rather ignore the crimes of your partner, even when the truth is staring you in the face, just for the sake of love?"
outside of the ethical dilemma resonating through yoon yn's headphones, the girl shifted around on her seat. her limbs felt numb from remaining unmoving for so long and, even though the only companion by her side was her bag, the compact space paid no mercy on her back. 
after finding a comfortable position she set her eyes on the view outside the window. sunlight hued over the fields of grass and the occasional farm, making the rural landscape imitate a painting in motion shaped by the most gentle brush strokes. the scene felt so engrossingly peaceful, she could almost feel the gale caressing her features despite the glass separating her from the world. 
yn couldn't help but thank the scene–and the long lasting battery of her headphones–for giving her something to focus on, seeing as the ride to the resort her class was directed towards had resulted to be such an otherwise tiresome one. 
"YES!"
an obnoxious voice popped yn's bubble in spite of the maximum volume she'd set for her podcast. distracted by the sound she turned to glance at the very back of the bus, where the students grouped up at the last row of leathered seats frowned in unison at heo yool–who mocked them with the cheekiest grin one could imagine. judging by their sullen looks, yn figured the citizens had lost yet another round of mafia, a game they'd been playing for who knows how long.
she recalled when her classmates had urged her to join the game the moment she stepped into the bus, which she declined, prioritizing her tranquility over the headache she knew they'd give her, yet promising she'd join in the next time. 
after figuring out the source of that ruckus yn set her focus back on her podcast, purposely missing the eyes of the guy she'd been avoiding to the best of her abilities for days now.
just a few rows behind her, kyung jun's eyes never left yn as she disappeared between the sea of heads flooding the bus, and his scheme of intentionally leaving the space by his side unoccupied for her came to mind, especially remembering how his grand plan backfired when that fucking basketball-star-wannabe gave up his seat for her.
that annoying prick just couldn't get the memmo, couldn't he? to him, hyun ho had always been a nuisance; a pest that treaded on yn's heels at every chance he got–even when she used to hang onto the feared delinquent's arm.
"they're so loud," kyung jun muttered. he'd been trying to settle down the bittersweet echoes of his mind since the start of that damned school trip, in vain, since the blaring voices behind him made the flare that was his temper even harder to quell than any of those memories.
luckily, he needn't lift a single finger to make the commotion stop, and he was able to get some peace of mind thanks to his lackeys acting as spokesmen for his aggravation. 
on the other side of the large vehicle, kim so mi sneakily took pictures of the class president. 
"hey look, isn't he gorgeous?" the vice president called, showing what was sure to be one of her new favorite pictures to her friends seated behind: park ji soo, cha yoo joon and park woo ram. "doesn't this belong in a magazine? how can he look so gorgeous?" so mi repeated with a dreamy sigh, looking at her screen.
"i will tell jun hee tomorrow that you took a photo of him," woo ram threatened with a playful smile.
"oh yeah? what if i tell yn about all the videos you have?" so mi replied, pointing at the camera that always hanged around the guy's neck. 
"please do, maybe i'll finally seduce her."
"oh my god," exclaimed yoo joon, "you are so delusional."
"why?" he lifted one of his hands in response to the very serious offense.
"dude, you barely talk to her."
"woo ram, you have the same chances of getting with yn as me and yoo joon of breaking up." ji soo stated.
the guy in mention glanced at his girlfriend, seemingly unaware of the joke. "that's zero, right?" question to which ji soo only rolled her eyes.
"i don't care what you say," woo ram brushed off. "i know she's the love of my life."
"ko kyung jun!" called out so mi.
like a tiny animal trying to save itself from a threatening predator, woo ram jumped to the empty seat by his side, hiding from the vandal's peripheral as much as possible while the rest of his companions laughed.
"fuck, kim so mi!" he cried out, "you trying to get me killed?"
"relax, he's not even looking," revealed the vice president with a cheeky smile.
as if they'd rehearsed it, the four students turned around to catch ko kyung jun's eyes still set on yoon yn, and by the looks of it, he didn't have any plans to cease his staring.
"not seeing them together is kinda weird," yoo joon pointed out.
"does anyone know why they broke up?" so mi asked to her peers, who all looked at each other expecting an answer none of them had.
"whatever," dismissed ji soo, "yn is better off without him anyway."
"yeah, she's been around us a lot more since then." agreed so mi.
"i bet kyung jun barely let her talk to us."
"right? he looks like the controlling type."
"i would never treat her like that." acknowledged woo ram, making his way back into the conversation only to get beaten back down by the three others.
the time inside the bus seemed to work differently than the rest of the world. minutes and hours mixed up in a disorienting spectacle that at least seemed to follow the sun setting over the horizon. 
when they finally arrived to the resort, the only source of light were the numerous lamps adorning the streets and the inviting shine of the building before them.
with the bus door finally opened, the students of class 2-3 thronged the exit with overwhelming excitement. the trip had been longer that the teacher had promised and everyone was ready to get comfortable on their temporary rooms. of course, that included yn, who unfortunately had to wait for the rest of her classmates to take their suitcases out of the loaded trunk since her luggage ended up dropping to the back during the ride.
after everyone collected their belongings, the girl was able to retrieve her case at last. it was somewhat heavy but the tiny wheels at the bottom made it easier for her to slide the valise out of the bus' compartment. taking out the retractable handle, yn rolled her suitcase for at most six steps before someone else got ahold of it.
"what are you doing?" she questioned, but the guy simply walked away while pulling her luggage along and up the stairs.
"kyung jun." 
at the sound of his name, he stopped. walking towards him, yn stood right between the entrance and the suitcase-stealer. 
"what do you think? i'm helping you."
"i can do it myself." yn chided, staring him down harshly.
kyung jun had received many looks like that one throughout his life. from parents, teachers, students... they were all identical, ranging from disappointment to resentment and back. he was used to it. it was his day to day, how could he not be? yet he never imagined the same eyes that used to watch him with so much endearment would scrutinize him so cruelly. 
"you used to love when i carried your stuff." he reminded her, scanning yn's face for a spec of something–anything–he hoped could save him from the pain her gaze struck him with.
the girl let out an exasperated sigh. why couldn't he leave her be? why was it that, no matter how much she wanted to distance herself, he always found a way to squeeze back into her life? 
yn grabbed the handle of her suitcase and pulled. she wanted to leave, to get away from his side and free herself of his piercing eyes. unfortunately his strength surpassed hers, and she was forced to stay as he kept his grip.
"can you let go?" 
"yn," he asked but the girl just focused on the luggage he kept hostage. "can we talk?"
"about what?" she sneered, speaking with as much disdain her troubled feelings allowed.
"you know what." 
once again, she sighed. his antics were so infuriating; always pushing down the barrier she tried to put between the two. 
"not now."
"then when?" he instantly snapped back, then took a deep breath to stop his grating tone. "you always say that but then you ignore me for days."
"look, i don't have time for this." for the second time, she attempted to retrieve her case. "i promised i'd help with the preparations for the class picture, so–"
"oh, c'mon," and still, he pulled back. "since when do you care about this school-spirit-bullshit?"
he was right, yn never involved herself with whatever activities the school came up with. time and time again, they'd skipped so many classes as to not get involved with all those school projects they both deemed as meaningless, deciding to spend their mornings strolling around parks and nearby shopping districts instead. but that wasn't an option anymore, and yn needed some way to blurr the images that kept torturing her with the agonizing nostalgia of a broken relationship.
"promise me we'll talk. tonight." 
"sure," for the third time, she attempted to take back her luggage. but his answer was the same.
"no, yn. promise me."
with every fiber of her being, yn summoned the last shreds of her patience and met his gaze. his eyes held her captive, beseeching her in silence to unravel the troubles he was willing to share with no one but her, and the hypnotic pull of his gaze weakened her willpower to resist.
"i promise." she reluctantly gave in.
as kyung jun finally released the carry-on, yn didn't even bat an eye before snatching it up and walking away. however, as she made her way into the resort center, she couldn't help but feel frustrated with herself for falling for his tricks. all the effort she had put into avoiding him seemed to have gone down the drain so quickly, leaving her feeling defeated.
not wanting kyung jun to catch up to her, yn rushed inside the building. 
warm lights illuminated the vast entrance, composed by a lounge area with leathered sofas that accentuated the beige walls with brighter colors and a water dispenser conveniently placed next to the cushioned seats. at the center, a beautiful statue engulfed by faint blue lighting towered over everything below. the perfectly crafted marble giant was impossible to miss, looking like a still guardian watching over the resort's grounds. yet that didn't stop yn from overlooking the sign with the qr code needed for the resort's wifi and facility app.
following the arrows pointing out the way towards the elevator, yn got in and pressed the button labeled dormitories. the heavy doors slid and shut before the steel cage trembled, signaling its vertical movement. suddenly, the girl felt the air tighten inside her chest, twisting her lungs in a way that seemed to strangle them. oxygen got caught up in her throat as images of cables snapping and an imminent fall to her death plagued her mind. in, out, in, out. yn's breath increased as rapidly as tidal waves when the lights malfunctioned and in between flickers, she saw a dark figure out of the corner of her eye. 
the moment she snapped her head back to take a look, a faint bell announced the door sliding open. taking in the air as steadily as she could, yn grabbed her suitcase and escaped the cage of death. frightened and disoriented, she questioned if what just concurred has been a quick fever dream or reality. and if it wasn't, why did her mind torture her like that? as far as she knew, never in her life had she experienced something that'd cause this crippling fear of high spaces. so why...?
she shook her head and brushed off the uncanny feeling, dismissing it as a consequence from the tiresome trip and forcing herself to focus on finding the room she shared with ahn na hee and kim so mi, who'd invited her with overwhelming coercion. compared to the elevator ride, figuring out her way to her dormitory was a piece of cake. the girl left her stuff in an empty corner and took the stairs down towards the gymnasium. there, instead of getting scolded by the teacher like she expected, what greeted her was a plethora of different activities performed by her classmates. 
in the middle of the room, a group of students flawlessly danced to the rhythm of the songs reverberating from a large speaker, followed by lee joo young and choi mi na silently fighting for the spotlight, and being interrupted by ko kyung jun, who apparently had nothing better to do than to mess with their practice by turning off the music while his two loyal followers, shin seung bin and kim jin ha, played a very dedicated match of ping-pong.
on opposite corners of the gym, jin da bum, choi joo won, lee yoon seo and oh jung won were consecutively separated in two pairs, all conversing with their respective best friends. up on the second floor, cha yoo joon and park ji soo, who never seemed to stay away from each other, watched from above. on the stage, band members im eun chan, nam yeon woo and baek eun ha dabbled with their instruments to make sure everything was perfectly in tune. lastly, jang hyun ho and kim dong hyun busied themselves by organizing all the sport equipment laying around.
"yoon yn!" called kim jun hee from a large set of tables surrounded by the other members of the student council which, of course, included kim so mi and her friend ahn na hee.
with no sight of their teacher around yn walked stress-free to said table, although not before catching park woo ram pointing his camera right at her, which made the guy hastily turning to film someone else. 
"you're here," the class president stated. "we thought you got lost or something."
"sorry, i got caught up with something." yn replied. she didn't really care about these preparations, but she did promise to help, and yn wasn't the type to use that word lightly.
"yeah! i was going to text you but we've been so busy preparing everything." so mi ranted, sprinkling salt into the wound.
"i can see that," yn commented, deciding to ignore so mi's backhanded scolding.
"what happened, though? did you really get lost?" na hee asked. 
"no, i got stopped by kyung jun."
"oh, right. he was a bit late too now that I think about it."
"is that jackass bothering you again?" hyun ho, who'd come closer to the table just as yn approached, joined in and put a hand on her shoulder.
"no," yes. "everything's fine."
truth be told, yn would rather drop dead than having to deal with kyung jun. however, she knew that telling her classmates about it wouldn't lead to a positive outcome. after all, the only person who had the courage to confront the delinquent was hyun ho, and, given their history, yn was certain his involvement would only make matters worse.
in another area of the bustling gym, the noticeable trio of vandals were causing a ruckus in the corner. as they tossed a basketball back and forth, jin ha hurled the ball at kyung jun, who was too busy gawking at yn's arrival to notice. the ball smacked him right in the chest–a painful reminder of how his focus seemed to always follow after her. 
"shit, my bad!" jin ha exclaimed.
their leader squatted to grab the ball at his feet and got back up only for his gaze to fix back towards the girl who constantly distracted him and, of-fucking-course, hyun ho standing right next to her, as always. the sight made his blood boil and his knuckles turn white as he clenched the basketball in his hands, while his rapid heartbeats deafened any coherent thought telling him to settle down.
seeing this, jin ha and seung bin looked at each other before the latter sighed and came closer to his friend. throwing one arm around his shoulders, he spoke:
"why don't we go outside, man? get your head out the gutter."
"yeah," kyung jun agreed, seeing seung bin was clearly trying his best to support him. perhaps he was right, some air would probably do him good right now. "let's go." was the last thing he said before disappearing through the gymnasium's exit, just in time to miss the teacher entering from the other side.
after informing the class presidents about a problem regarding the other bus full of students set to accompany them on this field trip, he left, clearly in a panic because of the unexpected turn of events.
in the meantime, most of class 2-3 remained in the gymnasium. no more than a few minutes went by before the dancing group, who now were fixing their hair and makeup while sitting on the floor, called yn over. ever since they found out about her break up, the girls had been offered her to go out again and again, an opportunity they took to invite her to join their club with not-so-subtle comments. 
"oh yn, you should hang out with us more!" were the kind of utterances she always received from the class' cheerleaders.
mi na had insisted on brushing yn's hair. taking the empty stop in front of her classmate, she felt the bristles effortlessly flowing through the roots of her hair to its ends. the conversation was an amicable one. the girls often taking their time to butter up yn and saying how cool it'd be to have her in their club–until the self proclaimed hairdresser decided to dive into something she'd been curious about.
"hey yn."
"yeah?" she answered, eyes closed while enjoying the soothing sensation of the hairbrush.
"why did you and kyung jun brake up?"
mi na found herself at a loss for words when she faced the disapproving and critical stares of the entire group. why would you ask that? their glares yelled in silence, making her feel like she just made a terrible mistake.
"that's between him and i, mi na." yn abruptly ended the change of topic.
why did they break up? that's a question she'd been asked countless times ever since her classmates took note of their separation. a query yn remembered avoiding like a plague, long before this trip. only this time, a strange, guttural discomfort buried into every corner of her brain as she noticed a spec of something missing, unable to put together if the same evasion came as a reflex or because she couldn't answer it herself.
"right," mi na's shame, reinforced by the brutal glares of the other girls, took over her face as her cheeks flushed. "sorry."
luckily for her, just as her face morphed into a cherry tomato, a painful ringing roared through the speakers before the absence of light engulfed the high schoolers in deep darkness.
"c'mon! what is this?" one said.
"what's going on?" asked another.
"hey, turn the lights on!" resonated a voice from above.
a loud clang similar to a metal pipe hitting a hard surface echoed over the four walls, followed by the piercing shrieks of several people. helping themselves with the flashlights provided by their phones, the students revealed a white figure in the middle of the room.
"quit joking around." before any more screeches could be heard, hyun ho launched a basketball to the sheeted ghost, making it fall to the ground just as pathetically as your average cartoon villain.
with the precision of a well-rehearsed act, the room was suddenly lit up, revealing the mischievous culprit behind the childish prank. and lo and behold, it was none other than heo yool.
the collection of complaints from everybody present synced in a perfect expression of annoyance and the occasional insult. 
"guys, listen carefully." the class clown™ gathered his classmates' attention as he stood from the ground. "i've heard that, a long time ago, a high school girl killed herself here," he explained, playing the role of a surprisingly talented storyteller. "so there's a few things you should never do: don't look at the mirror and turn around at midnight. and if someone grabs your ankle when you're sleeping, don't look down. if you break these rules," he turned to the group of dancers. "a ghost will pop up!" dashing towards them with the form of a rogish halloween scare actor, he was met with the frightened squeals of the girls.
yn, whose interest in the paranormal had never been deep enough to scare her, grabbed mi na's hairbrush and hurled it towards heo yool. an action that encouraged the rest of the class to throw everything they had at hand, along with some despicable remarks and the teasing laugh of the insufferable rascal.
defeated by heo yool's stunts, the students decided they've had enough as one by one they exited the gym. 
"are you coming, yn?" so mi asked.
the girl nodded before answering, "i'll be there in a minute. i want to get some water first."
at the entrance, so mi and yn parted ways. she approached the water dispenser and took one of the cardboard cups provided by the machine. ever since the lights of the gymnasium had turned off, the girl noticed an unusual taste in her mouth that reminded her of her frightening fever dream at the elevator. she felt it at the back of her neck: something eerily creeping behind her at every given moment. was it possible that heo yool's story actually got under her skin? trying to brush off the uncanny sensation, yn took a sip from the refreshment in her hand.
"yn!" 
the call startled her, making the water get caught up in her throat. she coughed and patted her own chest as the liquid scraped its way down her larynx, like a tiny bug trying to escape a spider's web. once able to compose herself, yn glanced towards the voice.
"im so sorry!" joo won panicked in a stutter, "i didn't mean to do that, are you ok?"
"im fine." she wiped the water from her lips with her long sleeve. 
joo won and his companion standing behind, da bum, stared at her in silence.
"do you want anything or...?" 
a simultaneous no and a yes echoed trough the entrance, followed by a confused frown from the girl and whatever silent conversation the two guys were displaying with their eyes. 
"do you think maybe you could," joo won took his sweet time to mutter his next words, as if scared. "talk with kyung jun?"
"excuse me?"
what the fuck...? did kyung jun put them up to this?
"we just, well," the spokesman of the duo halted. "we gave some money to his friends a few days ago and we just don't want to bother them."
oh.
"so you bother me?" 
"no, no!" da bum spoke promptly and grabbed his friend's arm, pulling him along as he took a few steps to leave. "it's ok, yn. we won't bother you."
joo won released himself from da bum's grasp and walked towards yn. "please," he pleaded, holding one of her hands tightly with both of his. "he'll listen to you."
right as her heart started beating with enough sympathy to care for their situation, the front door opened. seung bin, jin ha and kyung jun walked into the building, the latter playing around with a basketball.
the three delinquents would've kept their saunter if it weren't for yn's presence, which made the group's top dog stop in his tracks. his companions did the same and all stared at the situation unfolding right in front of them. kyung jun's eyes stayed on the hands holding yn and after noticing his threatening glare, joo won leaped away from her.
"what's going on?" asked the fearful leader.
"you owe them money?" yn countered, her eyes flickering between the trio.
"what?" the blonde one laughed, brushing off the accusation. 
"they do!" joo won blamed, but instantly went back to his helpless self when met with the bullies' threatening scowls. "please, i just need it for my tuition."
the firm glare of the girl pierced through the tough act of the tamer vandal, making him drop his facade as he approached the feeble boy, closed fist in the air.
"fuck, man! we're on retreat, why are you asking us for money now?"
"yeah," seung bin joined in, defending his friend. "what are you, a loan shark? we told you we'd give you interests. give us some time, dipshit!"
kyung jun, who'd only taken the role of observer until that moment, put down the basketball he held and intervened to slap both of his lackeys' heads. "did you do sports betting again? huh?"
like scolded puppies, seung bin and jin ha faced the floor as they stepped aside.
"da bum," he called, and the guy lifted his head to stare at the bully. "did you lend them money too?"
"huh?" as kyung jun stalked closer, da bum's heart raced faster with every step. his eyes frantically scanned the room, desperately seeking any distraction from the intimidating figure slowly closing in on him. "yes. but i can wait for my money. there's no rush." with a lump in his throat, da bum braced himself for whatever was coming next.
"how much?" kyung jun's open hand grabbed the side of da bum's face, forcing the terrified boy to look right at him. "ill pay you back."
"you will?" da bum stuttered.
"of course," his grin turned into something sinister, which allowed only da bum to see because of their proximity. "in return play basketball with me, yeah?"
he faintly smacked his victim's face twice before coming up to yn. "everything's alright here, yn. see? no need for this." kyung jun reached out to hold her hand but she pulled away before any contact could be made. 
was she really so revolted by him she wouldn't even let him touch her? accepting his defeat, kyung jun hid his hands inside his jacket's pockets. 
"right," yn looked at da bum and joo won, who were currently being pushed around by the other two, before turning back to kyung jun. "in that case, i'll get going." 
"you're not coming with me?" just as yn started to walk away, his words pulled her back in.
"i'd rather not."
"are you sure?"
with a swift nod, kyung jun signaled seung bin and jin ha to go ahead and, bringing along the poor students they were about to torment, they disappeared down the hallway.
they were left alone, just like kyung jun liked it. only them, with nothing and no one around to interrupt their precious time together.
not a single second did he stop looking into her fiery eyes, which only seemed to hold a hostility that antagonized his own devoted regard.
"it's almost midnight."
both held each other's gaze, which kyung jun took as an invitation to step towards the girl. he stopped right in front of her and, unfortunately, yn's heart betrayed her mind as she internally screamed for it to cease its raising beats. 
kyung jun's hands raised to yn's face, completely forgetting her previous rejection. for a second, he thought of apologizing, since she'd made it clear time and time again how much she now despised his presence. but how could he apologize for something he was barely conscious of? he couldn't help himself, not when she was merely inches away, not with her. maybe if he insisted–if he didn't give up–she'd finally understand why staying apart was never the world's plan. 
"you promised me. remember?"
his hands were close. so close he could feel his fingertips grace her cheeks, a touch so minuscule, yet enough to make his skin crawl with anticipation. 
he was too close. 
yn stepped back just as she felt the fleeting spark. she would be dammed if she ever allowed him to touch her again, in more ways than one. or at least that's what she told herself as she fell right into another one of his tricks. kyung jun knew her well; too well for her liking. and with such measly words she found herself helplessly cornered by her own self-discipline and morals.
fucking bastard.
up in the vast dormitory area of the resort center, different groups of people were each caught up in their own conversations, without a single care in the world or the impending sinister feeling hanging over their heads like an invisible wrecking ball about to crash and destroy every single thing they ever cared for.
in her room, lee yoon seo was finally able to lose herself in her novel when her phone pinged. slightly annoyed by the distraction she took a closer look to her home screen, which displayed an app in process of downloading.
"i told you i didn't need this." she showed the screen to her roommate.
"it wasn't me." jung won answered, just as astounded.
our perspective changes and now we observe a group of various students, all gathered in one room. the class couple, the cheerleaders and members of the student council all sharing snacks and stories between them in perfect harmony until a knock interrupted. 
"come in!" allowed the vice president.
"hey guys," the door opened, reavealing hyun ho accompanied by his best friend, dong hyun, who stayed on the hallway behind him. "has anyone seen yn?"
"how come you don't know? you're always following her." mocked woo ram before taking a handful of chips from one of the various bags scattered around the room.
"you're one to talk." ji soo muttered, which provoked woo ram to throw a scrambled napkin her way.
"i'm serious." hyun ho replied, "i've tried texting her but this wifi doesn't even work."
"she told me she was going to get some water, isn't she downstairs?" just as so mi finished her sentence, one by one every phone in the room chimed.
notifications spread throughout the resort like a 14th century pandemic, resonating around every room as if imitating the never ending bells that announced the beginning of the end.
back in the gymnasium, joo won stood shaking below the basketball hoop with his friend by his side, eyes shut tight as neither dared watch the nearing hit from the ball.
"joo won, stay right there." kyung jun sneered as he prepared himself to throw. he looked up, targeting the net as he bent his knees, faked a jump, and sent the ball right into the boy's stomach.
joo won kneeled in pain, groaning and grasping his abdomen with both hands in his best attempt to soothe the aching sensation puncturing his body.
yn watched the situation unfold as she sat on the rubber gym flooring, otherwise cold if it weren't for seung bin's zip-up laid out below her. it had been kyung jun who'd instructed the blondie to give up his hoodie, since yn declined on taking his own. not a single word was heard from the girl ever since stepping into the gym as the trio took turns tormenting their two victims, until now.
"i didn't come here for this, kyung jun."
almost ten minutes had passed and she was still waiting for kyung jun to approach her and start the conversation he so adamantly pushed onto her.
"c'mon yn, let me give it one more shot."
he must've lost his fucking mind, thinking he had her wrapped around his finger to waste her time in such a way. fed up, yn got up and snatched the basketball out of his hands before throwing it away. it rolled towards jin ha, who immediately picked it up to quite the sound of the bouncing that only seemed to raise the tension of the ex-lovers' quarrel.
yn opened her mouth to give kyung jun an ultimatum, a last opportunity out of her remaining patience, when a sudden ding emitted out of her skirt's pocket. she would've payed no mind to it if it weren't for the other five identical sounds that propagated right after.
each person in the room took out their phones and faced their screens, which displayed a virtual envelope eagerly waiting to be opened. 
TAP TO VIEW YOU ROLE, read the text below.
"wasn't this the resort's app?" asked jin ha, to nobody in particular.
resort's app? 
she never knew about any app.
"mafia?" seung bin laughed from his spot at the floor and showed his screen. "what's this about?"
"what the fuck is this?" kyung jun mumbled with a frown, clearly confused.
yn brought one hand to the back of her neck as the abnormal sensation from minutes ago reappeared. goosebumps started breaking out throughout her skin and every cell on her body seemed to tremble uncontrollably while she stared at the little black mirror on her hand. which, as she would soon find out, reflected the last version of herself with any shred of purity.
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🏷️ @flaneurpastel - @jwijii - @watamotee33
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svngiem-remade · 1 year
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Just a soft thought, in which Jisung has a secret crush on you. He notices you all the time, whether you are in the school park reading books as your past time, in the library studying, or zoning out while the professor chatters in front of the class. It became his habit to look for you in the crowd, even when he was surrounded by friends, and he couldn't stop from grinning if he witnessed you smiling for what God knows. The idea of him crushing you from afar was fine at first, but as he observed you day by day, he realized you don't have any friends to hang out with. He wants to interact with you but doesn't know how.
this actually one of my writing prompt but lemme share. idk if this imagine has been written already so...
YOU FELL FIRST, BUT I FELL HARDER | hjs
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🧸 pairing. han jisung + gn!reader
synopsis. crushing on you from afar had been jisung's move for the past few months, and it had been really easy since he always stumbled upon you wherever he went, but his plan of never talking to you after your first (embarrassing) encounter was bound to never go through.
🌙 wc. 1.5k | au. college!au; mutual pining; hannie has a big fat crush on reader :(
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It was early autumn when you met. You were being shown around the rather small campus by one of the school’s representatives, Chan, when Jisung, who was completely engrossed in frantically typing on his phone, bumped against you, making the both of you fall to the ground with a big ‘oof’, his body now on top of yours as your belongings went flying around.
You both widened your eyes, a deep blush creeping on Jisung's cheeks as he gulped, quickly climbing off of you and helping you get up from the grass by offering you his hand, which you gladly took, not without an embarrassed smile. 
As you dusted off your clothes and Chan snickered a few meters away, Jisung repeatedly begged you for forgiveness, picking up your scattered belongings and offering to buy you lunch for the following week from the campus cafeteria to make it up to you, to which you responded with a small smile and constant reassurances that you were, in fact, fine, and him trying to make it up to you was completely unnecessary, though you appreciated his thoughtfulness. 
And a quick, respectful bow later, you were walking once more by Chan’s side, looking at the buildings around you with a curious look. A look that, apparently, had struck Jisung more than he’d expected it to, had made him want to run towards you at full speed to catch up with your farthing figure so he could ask you out on a date, so he could get to know you better, so he could have the chance to listen to your heavenly voice and, hopefully, take a peek at your beautiful mind once more.
However, that interaction would be the only one you would have for the next few months (if we don’t count the stuttered and awkward greetings he’d say to you when you’d pass by each other in the hallways)—and it was simply because he did not have the courage to go up to you and start conversing. Would you even remember him? Would you laugh at his face if he asked you out on a date so out of the blue? Were you already taken or in love with someone else? He surely hoped that was not the case, but the more he stumbled upon you at the grocery store, library, favorite coffee shop, and lectures, the more it seemed improbable. You were just too perfect and beautiful to be single, so, as creepy as it sounded, he’d decided to just keep crushing on you from afar, since he’d somehow managed to convince himself he would be fine with it, even in the long run.
He’d grown accustomed to seeing you sitting on one of the benches in the park right next to your college campus before and after class as he took a walk with his to-go iced coffee in hand, either reading the book you always carried around or bopping your head to the rhythm of the music you were listening to through your obnoxiously large headphones, your soft features always painted with a sweet smile, which he’d unconsciously started to mirror as his cheeks became flushed with giddiness.
And his plan became a much easier task when the first semester ended and the new one started, which brought the both of you to have the same exact afternoon classes—he even held back an excited squeal when he saw you sitting right next to his usual spot, giving him the chance to finally speak to you and become friends; he just had to work up some more courage. 
However, it seemed almost like as the weeks went by, he’d become an even more stuttering and awkward mess than before—hell, his stomach would flip and fill to the brim with butterflies if you brushed your hand against his by accident; how was he supposed to speak a full sentence without making a fool out of himself? So he’d often found himself admiring the amount of cuteness you radiated when, during your lecture, you zoned out, either staring at the big, scribbled on whiteboard or at the door as you mindlessly doodled hearts and cartoon characters on the piece of paper that was supposed to be filled with notes from the class. 
And Jisung’s lover boy, whipped for someone aura and smile did not go unnoticed by his friends, who'd started teasing and poking fun at him whenever he’d pack up his stuff from the study room to rush to your shared class with a wide smile and red cheeks, or try to subtly ask them if any of them, or any of their other friends, happened to know you or your friends—which Jisung quickly got to know you did not have. 
After all, if Chan, the man that was friends with every single soul roaming the halls and classes of the entire campus, and Hyunjin and Jeongin, who knew everything about everyone told Jisung they’d never seen you hang out with anyone, he wholeheartedly believed them—and it also explained why he himself had actually never seen you speak with anyone, if not for professors or group mates for projects. And right then, he knew his plan of crushing on you from afar until you both graduated was not going to go through. He knew he couldn’t leave you alone and let you fend for yourself the harsh university life.
“H-Hi.” Jisung muttered, your name coming out of his mouth so softly your heart clenched. You smiled and sat down on the seat right next to his—the one you knew he saved for you, given that he always removed his bag from it whenever he’d see you walk in his direction once you stepped in class.
“Hi.” you replied, taking out of your backpack your notebook and pencil case, not expecting him to continue talking since he never did—which was kind of a relief for you. You could barely contain yourself from showing how nervous and fidgety you actually felt around him, opting for a strong, confident facade instead—all because you still thought about how warm he felt when he fell on top of you all those months prior, how his cologne stayed on your clothes for the rest of that day, how your lips brushed against his ever so softly and how much you wanted to just pull him down and link them in a soft kiss. 
And no matter how many months had passed since that moment, it still replayed in your head every time you closed your eyes to go to sleep, or whenever he’d speak to you; his raspy, low voice, made you feel dizzy just thinking about it. “Uhm…” Jisung poked your shoulder with his finger to try to catch your attention—as if he didn’t already have it. You hummed and turned your head to face him, eyes locked with his, trying to drink in as much of his beauty and warmness as you could. “I was just… I was wondering if you’ve already found someone to do the music theory project with?” he shyly asked, clearing his throat and strengthening his position when he noticed he was slouching.
You sank your teeth in your bottom lip and shook your head. “No, I’ve actually decided to, you know, do it on my own…” you mumbled, deciding to go for a half-truth instead of confessing that you were too shy to willingly interact with classmates if you had the option to do something on your own—including him, which you’d just recently acknowledged (or rather, accepted) you had a crush on, and you’d been trying to hint at it to him for quite a while now, but he was either too dense to catch your subtle advances or didn’t know how to reject you—you wholeheartedly hoped it wouldn’t be the latter.
 “Oh… Nevermind.” he tried to play it off cool, but Jisung’s disheartened tone revealed just how sad the news had made him. “I’ll just do it on my own as well then…” Jisung murmured lowly, taking his pen in hand and writing down some bullet points for the project he now had to do alone, the whole speech he’d worked hard to convince you to be in a group with him now out of the window.
“Oh.” your eyes lit up—that was your chance to make your move. You fought against your shyness, against your fear of rejection and worked up your courage, chewing your bottom lip before placing a hand on his shoulder, “Then, would you like to exchange numbers?” you asked with a big smile, the sudden crimson blush appearing on his ears and cheeks reassuring you that maybe, just maybe, he liked you as much as you liked him. “You know, if either of us need help with the project, since we’re on our own...” you explained with a tinge of nervousness in your tone when he stayed silent for some time, warmth spreading all over your body and heart skipping a beat when he gave you the biggest, brightest smile you’d ever seen on his features.
Jisung then handed you his phone. “I’d love that.”
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please reblog, comment and like, feedback is very much appreciated, plus, I love reading your thoughts!
→ masterlist.
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— pink = unable to tag!
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that-ari-blogger · 6 months
Text
The Coven System
There is something fascinating about the Coven System as a story mechanic. Specifically, this post will talk about how they are introduced in Covention. There's some nuance here.
Let me explain.
SPOILERS AHEAD
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First up, let's establish some themes. The owl house is about freedom of expression. This should be pretty obvious. This episode goes out of its way to explicitly state this pretty early on, so you have that in the back of your mind.
"I get it Eda. Covens bad, individualism good. But I'm still figuring this world out. So, I'm going to go in there and make up my own mind."
There's a pervading attitude in specifically media analysis of "I'm going to throw a collection of big words at you to show how I am right" and the people that say this could be right, but they don't dwell on why. Knowing what something is called doesn't really do anything in something like this and reducing things to "Good" and "Bad" without explaining what that means is unhelpful.
To be clear, I'm not disagreeing with Eda here, the coven system is bad. And I'm not against big words (Half of my personality is an obnoxiously obscure vocabulary). But good and bad have no inherent, quantifiable definition. You have to define the parameters you are using. That's what this episode as a whole does. It explains, and it demonstrates.
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Enough waffle. What are the covens?
Put simply, they are boxes to exist in. You align yourself with one idea and have to embody that idea for the rest of your life. It's restrictive, but that's not the selling point. The selling point is:
"Acceptance? Comradery? A sense of belonging? Covens sound incredible." "Watch closely, Luz."
The coven system works on social rules. You want acceptance? You need to conform. And even the existence of the Tiniest Cat Coven backs this up. The Boiling isles don't care how you conform, they just care that you can be easily defined. Hence why they add labels to everything, including those outside of the covens. Eda is a "wild witch". Lus is "the human".
The sigil system is a pretty decent metaphor for this, in order to be accepted, you have to lose some of your magic, some of what makes you you.
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But there is one exception to this rule. The Emperor's coven. The best of the best can keep all of their magic. If you are good enough, you can keep some of your identity. But in exchange, you must wear a mask, disguise your face. It's conditional acceptance, and it's not acceptance of you, its acceptance of your abilities. Even Lilith is introduced wearing a mask.
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Now, one thing that struck me during this episode was how it makes a concerted effort to show how similar the Emperor's coven and the wild witches are. That way their differences are shown more dramatically. These begin superficial. Both can cast all kinds of magic, both have a Clawthorn as their leader, both back a child in what could probably be a life-or-death event. But then the similarities become more underlying. Both are impulsive and cheat their way to victory.
I said impulsive there, and I meant it. But you might be confused. Lilith doesn't strike most people as impulsive. But that is an act, a mask, you might say. She makes a concerted effort to be the holier than thou character, but it literally only takes a handful of rhymes to get her to act how Eda wants her to act. And remember the beginning of the episode? How does Luz convince Eda to let her go to the covention? With flowery language. There are some parallels here that are starting to get obnoxious.
So, what point am I getting at here? What are the differences between the wild witches and the Emperor's coven? The coven would lead you to believe that they are the only place where you can be accepted. But the wild witches provide that for each other, and they don't have to earn it. The answer, when you look closer, is freedom. In the Emperor's Coven, you are not free to be yourself, you give up your individuality, and your autonomy, which in my opinion, are not the kinds of things you want to relinquish.
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Ok, I need to talk about this scene, because it's really cool. The key word here is acceptance. The reason Luz starts to break down Amity's walls is because she is kind. She doesn't call Amity to change her ways in some big monologue, she is just nice to her, and accepting. And that acceptance comes from a place Amity wasn't expecting it to. Amity has been raised to think that acceptance came from skill, that if you were good enough, people would be kind to you. That's why she's so hell bent on joining the Emperor's Coven. And yet here is Luz, after Amity had cheated, showing her dignity and respect.
Luz doesn't begin antagonistic towards the Covens, but the rivalry begins here. Luz is the opposite of the emperor, and by extension, the antithesis of the covens themselves.
Previous - Next
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getousatoruu · 6 months
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Sorry for the delay, but it's here now… Most of them are NC-17 and R rated, so read the tags.
One shots (1k-9k)
Incense by cielelyse (E, 6.6k)
“We wanted to know,” says Mimiko, “who between the two of you is the better fighter?” (Or: Satoru tries to prove he's better at close combat, but Suguru has other plans.)
Curiosity Killed the Crush by xBarbarellax (E, 7.5k)
Today was the day. No more chickening out, no more waiting for him to make the first move, no. Today, Hina was going to ask out Gojo Satoru.
all the world’s a stage by ruche
“I don’t deserve to love you,” Suguru offered. It was placid as a temple pond, at odds with all his feelings. His arms went limp at his sides. He smiled again, sweet and hollow. “Right?” Satoru recovered well enough. Intensity seemed to evaporate off of him within a few stiff seconds. “They deserve this, I deserve that,” he said after a beat. “Who died and made you king of the universe? Talk about obnoxious.” Suguru is horny and Satoru makes that Suguru’s problem.
closer to the bone by sanctify (E, 6k)
“How thoughtful of you.” Gojo eventually says as he rests the cuffs on his lap, skimming a finger along the black padding on the inside of one. “I saw that you had added them to your wishlist.” Geto hums, tilting his head in his direction, the sharp amber of his eyes like spools of molten honey. “I hope it wasn’t too forward of me.” This has Gojo burst out into a brief fit of laughter, the bright whites of his teeth showing as he leans forward to lay a hand on Geto’s chest, easy and playful and flirtatious. “I invite you over so I can record you fucking my brains out and post it online, and you think you’re being forward?” Gojo laughs again, a soft pink coloring the curve of his cheeks this time, accentuated by the highlighter he wore.
Thought you were about to get some foreplay with me by SaintOfAthena (E, 5.7k)
See, Gojo Satoru has a problem: there is a frontier that his true feelings cannot breach. When they try to force it, it is only at the cost of their true nature that they are allowed to pass. Consequently, after a mental breakdown due to a pimple that leads to Geto taking care of him, he jumps on the chance to tell him how he feels but things don't go as smoothly as expected.
up the river, we can go slow by Eskarina (E, 5.8k)
Satoru looks ethereal this way—like nothing has ever touched him. Like Suguru couldn’t even touch him if he wanted to. He does want to, eventually; ask Satoru if he’s allowed to leave marks that won’t disappear within the blink of an eye. He doesn’t think they’re quite there yet.
Trials and tribulations of loving Satoru Gojo.
Woozy by Kiboutie (E, 2.5k)
“I have infinity, remember? No one can touch me,” Satoru repeats, before slowly reaching forward and tucking a stray strand of hair behind Suguru’s ear with a wistful sigh. “Unless I want them to.” Alternatively, The one where omega Gojo continues to spend his heat with Getou, even after they've parted ways.
Longer fics (9k+)
4AM by damiselart (E, 10.8k)
Suguru and Satoru's meet cute but it's horny instead.
His **** is What?! by owl_beans (E, 10.1K)
Gojo Satoru did not have a crush on Getou Suguru. They had never even spoken to each other. Satoru was just curious about what neat and polite Getou Suguru was like when he wasn't all buttoned up. The answer was not at all what Satoru expected and even better than he had imagined. To no one's surprise, they hit it off infuriatingly well.
in the eye of the dragonfly by backbones (E, 9.3k)
Suguru first heard about the Six Eyes when he was still a child. Like most children his age, it sounded like a legend, or a fairy tale out of a book—and when he was a teenager, it became more real. Suguru was slated to be a sorcerer, but he still came from a modest clan inside the same village where the Six Eyes was born, and occasionally he would hear little truths: he was a boy of sixteen (like Suguru), he had eyes like the sky (unlike Suguru), or he will be the strongest sorcerer alive (not if Suguru had a say). But— He’s a boy, Suguru thought. He’s a boy. (In which the Gojo clan arranges a marriage between Satoru and Suguru.)
lovesick lullabye by pastelcoloureddreams (E, 18k)
"Satoru, you can't pretend like there's nothing more to us," Suguru appeals, grabbing the crook of Satoru's elbow. That certainly makes Satoru freeze but his eyes remain hard, an impenetrable fortress to the soft and vulnerable boy he knows still lives inside Satoru. "I still love you." "Love? Is that why you left me?"
Slow Hands by megumiblues (E, 12.3k)
Satoru is in desperate need of a massage, so who better to ask than famous masseuse Suguru, who just so happens to be the best friend he’s been in love with for over ten years now?
The Traveller's Song by No_Ir (E, 23.3k)
When it comes, the death of summer is vapid and quiet. It tastes like stale water and smells like memories gone bad in the heat. Nothing mourns it and the air is speckled with bits of seawater that cling to the dampness on the back of his neck. Crickets chirp throughout the night and the bed is too warm to sleep in, so he buries his face into pillows that smell like dust and salt and ignores the stabbing behind his eyes till he can feel the irritating warmth of another day on his back. I miss the sea, he thinks, staring at the familiar outline of the window, palm resting on the friend-shaped dent on his bed. Exhaustion drapes itself over his shoulders and sweat beads like pearls at the roots of his hair. I miss the sea like I miss my friend.
The Future of a Broken Past by dazylein (34.5k, ongoing)
Temporary amnesia due to severe trauma. It’s all the doctor can tell Satoru when he wakes up bloodied and bruised with no ID on him and no fingerprints matching any record. Plagued with the idea that his life must have been meaningless if no one is even looking for him, Satoru finds himself in front of a buddhist temple that proves him otherwise. As the haze around his memories clears, the guesses of who did this to him and why turn muddier and muddier.
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riality-check · 10 months
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daisy jones-adjacent au. part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. tw substance abuse, ptsd, references to past torture (canon, the russians.) part 7.
ao3
Writing the album is, somehow, the easy part, even after Steve put his foot in his mouth.
He had his suspicions, but he shouldn't have asked that. It was a dick move, and he's been trying not to be a dick for the past few years. So, he apologized and didn't bring it up again.
Eddie softened after that. Like he wasn't expecting Steve to apologize. He accepted it, and things have been good since.
Well, more than good, if Steve's being honest. Things have gotten a lot better since.
He's noticed a few things, even after their permanently discontinued game of "truth or truth." Mostly, the things Steve has noticed have been about Eddie, like:
He laughs at the dumbest things.
He quotes books and movies constantly.
He has an accent that he masks unless he's tired.
He hates strong smells.
He deflects by becoming bigger.
There's more. A lot more that Steve has noticed, but listing everything about Eddie's brilliance and stubbornness, his courage and obnoxiousness, his gorgeous face and sharp tongue would take all day. Steve has noticed a lot over these few weeks spent hunched over instruments and notebooks at his house, and he thinks Eddie has noticed him in return.
He hopes so.
It's been a long time since Steve has wanted to be noticed beyond the superficial adoration of fans. It's been a long time since Steve has wanted to be known.
There are a plethora of reasons for why that's a bad idea. Steve is able to forget them momentarily when he sees Eddie smile.
All too soon, after far too long, they're done writing. They start recording, and that is the hard part.
It always is. There's always something wrong with the levels or slightly out of tune, or someone sneezes right into the mic on the first good take. There's things that work and things that don't, and, always, songs on paper that have to get fixed before they can be songs on the radio.
The album has good bones, though. It's angry and hopeful and scared and sad and triumphant. It's music, it's art, it's life.
And once they can make it work, it's going to be great.
That's what Steve is doing now. Making it work. He's awake at 4 AM on a Tuesday, sitting at a piano and trying to rework the bass line to stop it from clashing so much with the melody.
The only good thing about this situation is that he's made it to seventy three hours awake for the first time, courtesy of a well-timed line right before he got to work.
If it keeps working, he might trash the pills entirely.
He plays the introduction to the song again on his right hand and starts adding low notes on his left. As it is, it sounds empty. To much distance. But if he raises it a fourth-
"Steve?"
He freezes, fighting back against the instinct to jump away from the piano like a kid caught with his hand in a cookie jar. He forgot that the band has been crashing at his house - it's close to the studio and he has the rooms to spare - and because he forgot that he wasn't alone, he failed to remember that most people aren't awake at this hour, nevermind working.
So, he calmly turns around to see Eddie, in pajamas, standing in the doorway, blinking sleep out of his tired eyes.
Steve swallows and hopes that Eddie is too tired to catch him openly staring.
"What are you doing?" Eddie whispers.
"Reworking something," Steve says. "Trying out something different for the bass line in Envy, the one that's giving us trouble."
Eddie covers his mouth to yawn. "Couldn't sleep?"
Steve wonders when the last time he thought that was a bad thing was.
"I can be quieter," he says. "I was just trying to fix this. But that can wait until morning."
"Steve," Eddie says, and he's got that look on his face.
Steve hates that look.
Eddie looks at him like he can see inside his skull, inside his heart, and read his DNA letter by letter. He looks at him like he can see everything about Steve: past, present, and future.
And there's pity in every second of it.
Steve can't stand pity.
"I just- I gotta see the whole picture, you know?" he continues so Eddie doesn't get to voice that pity. "And you guys all have your instruments, but piano gives me everything. I can play the bass and the guitar and sing and- I'm just able to get it better that way. Where are you going?"
Eddie is almost out the door again. "I- I can't be here, Steve."
"Why? Are you tired? You can go-"
"You're high, and I know that if you offer me something, I won't say no."
Oh.
"Eddie, I wouldn't-"
"And even if you don't, if you take something in front of me, I know I'll ask for some," he says, like it's a fact, the same way the sky is blue.
"I'm not- I wouldn't do that to you," Steve says. No point in denying that he's high, not when they both know it. "I wasn't- I'll get off the piano. I'll read, or, well, reread something instead."
He gestures aimlessly at the bookshelf on the wall near the door. It's crammed full of recommendations from Dustin and Robin and Erica and Nancy. All of them have been read at least once, most of them twice.
"You like to read?" Eddie asks.
"No, I hate it," Steve says, completely genuinely.
Eddie huffs out a quiet laugh. "I will never understand you."
"I know."
Because that's the thing. No one can understand it, can understand him, unless they were in Hawkins, Indiana, too. Unless they saw what he did. Unless they signed the same NDAs. Unless they fought the same monsters and went to the same other world and endured the same things.
Eddie, like most other people, will never be able to understand.
So, his smile fades as he stands there in the doorway, confused.
"I like stories, but I hate reading," Steve explains. "I just do it to fill-"
"I can read to you."
Steve stops mid-word. "What?"
"If you want to hear the story without reading," Eddie says. "I like reading. I can read to you."
Steve has spent seventy four hours, at this point, awake. He is sitting at a piano bench at 4 AM on a Tuesday, high on cocaine, and is staring at a hot guy his age who, over the past few weeks, has alternated between seemingly hating him and smiling that smile.
Forgive him for making the stupid decision to say-
"Okay."
Eddie smiles, though it's tired. He takes a book from the shelf at random and walks out the door. Steve has no choice but to follow, back to the guest room Eddie has taken as his own.
Eddie turns on the bedside lamp and lays down underneath the rumpled sheets.
"Come on," he says, patting the space next to him. "I don't bite."
"You sure?" Steve jokes, but he climbs on alongside him, careful not to touch.
He really wants to touch.
He's not thinking straight.
Eddie cracks the book open and starts reading in a low whisper.
Steve can barely understand what he's saying, but that doesn't matter. What matters is Eddie's voice, quiet and rough and breathy. What matters is Eddie's voice, steady and soothing.
It's nice. It's really nice.
Steve finds himself curling up, closer and closer, until his head is on Eddie's chest.
His eyes slip closed at hour seventy-five.
And the next thing he knows, he's standing with his back to a corner, holding a metal, foldable music stand in front of him, with a voice hoarse from screaming.
Clearly, he fell asleep.
Fantastic.
Sometimes, he's able to tell what the nightmare was before he actually remembers it. It's all in the little habits he's developed.
When he finds himself checking to see if all his fingernails are still attached to his hands, blinking nonexistent blood out of his left eye, and still murmuring Robin's name, he knows that this one had to be about the Russians.
And then the memory of the bone saw, of the screaming, of taking hit after hit after hit crashes into him so hard he almost doubles over.
He reminds himself he's safe. That he's unharmed. That Robin is safe in her dorm at UCLA. That they never got Dustin or Erica.
That all of this is fucking useless.
He's gotten it all out. He's written song after song about all of it, all of the monsters and the fighting and the fear and the good in spite of it all. He writes and plays and sings close enough to all of it to almost break the NDAs.
And none of it is of any use at all because, years later, Steve still can't fucking sleep.
He swallows. Swallows again. Tries to breathe, even if it's in the form of great, heaving gasps.
And that's when he realizes that Eddie is standing right in front of him. Clearly confused, clearly terrified.
This is why, though he can never understand Steve, he shouldn't know him, either. This is why Steve can't reach out and touch.
Because even if he could explain it to Eddie, even if he would lie and say he believed him and understood, no one wants someone who can't make it through a night without waking up at least three times. No one wants to have to calm someone down from weekly screaming fits brought on by the back of their eyelids.
"Get out," he says.
"Steve," Eddie says, and there's that pity again.
Steve can't stand pity.
"Get out!" he shouts, heedless of the fact that he's probably waking everyone else up, that this is the room Eddie is staying in.
He can go to Steve's room. Everything in there is hidden, so he can't break his sobriety unless he snoops.
Steve hopes he doesn't snoop. He doesn't want to drag Eddie down to where he's at.
Eddie nods and makes his way to the door. Before he leaves, he stops and looks back.
"I don't know what you're running from," he whispers. "But when it catches you-"
"What?" Steve snaps.
"Let someone know."
If Steve were in a better state of mind, he'd ask what the hell that meant. But he's shaking and tired, so goddamn tired, that he watches Eddie go.
He sits on the floor, in the corner, still holding the music stand. The sun is up. It streams through the windows along with the sounds of birds chirping.
And Steve wonders how he's supposed to live the rest of his life like this.
He makes it an hour before he falls asleep sitting up on the floor. He makes it two more before he wakes himself up again, checking his fingernails.
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AITA for taking part in testing a stranger a few years ago?
Sounds worse than it is but I just want to ask. Long story bear with me. Fake names, all of us were 19-21 when it happened.
I'm in a very close friend group where we all share multiple fandoms, went through all kinds of discourse hell and fandom drama together for years. We're closeknit and we only get closer with time. One of the pillars of this group is Pearl who I deeply admire. Pearl is popular because she has good meta analysis and she's a vocal progressive just like everyone else in the group. All of us are popular to some degree but she's the most eloquent among us.
A few years ago we were hosting a group chat session to discuss a new show, Pearl was the host and she posted the invite for anyone to join. A new account named Ruby who was following some members of our group for a while, joined the chat along with a some other unknown people and a few mutuals. The chat had about 20 people, don't remember the exact number. So it was Pearl, her friends including me, some mutuals, some new people- all from Sauce fandom.
We were really happy to see so many Sauce fans like the new show. We were having fun until Pearl brought up shipwar from Sauce fandom for the sake of a mutual who was out of the loop. It was a mayo/ketchup vs ketchup/mustard drama and we were fans of mayo/ketchup. We were all shitting on the delulu ketchup/mustard shippers when Ruby said she was one of them. Pearl immediately showed her shitty takes from mustard fans, screenshots of anon hate Pearl got and some other things I can't remember. She asked for Ruby's opinion on those.
I admit Pearl was a little bit condescending, but at that time I was too busy agreeing with her and laughing about mustard/ketchup shippers' idiocy. I was giving more examples to support Pearl in case Ruby decided to counter. Ruby on the other hand laughed and said she also thought those anons were obnoxious and said she was only a casual fan. Pearl said she was relieved because these days you can't trust mustard/ketchup shippers to be normal. We went back to the original topic.
That was over, but I kept an eye on Ruby and I remember she unfollowed Pearl after a few days. I brought it up later a couple times when new members of our group became mutuals with Ruby. And one of them was outright making fun of her for being a little simpleton but we grew up and had other things to talk about.
Then I saw Ruby left Sauce fandom for Fruits fandom where she became a little more popular for meta discussions. She's still friends with a couple people from my group who are casual fans of Fruits. She sometimes shows up on my dash for general fiction takes I agree with. All good. But yesterday I saw her talking to her friends about something friendship and virtue signalling related, she said it was weird how many times she's been "tested" by fellow fans including people who she knew for years, and she thought maybe it was because she came off as dumb and oblivious. She implied She never needed to test anyone.
Now I don't know about other times Ruby was tested but I remembered the story from above when I was one of the strangers testing her and I'm wondering if it was a bad thing to do? I can see why she thought it was maybe rude. But it is true that many shippers happen to have dumb takes and I'd rather not waste my time, rival shipper or not. It's not even a big deal.
So Was I the asshole?
PS thank you for reading the full story and sorry I will not say the real names of Sauce fandom or its ships, none of us go there anymore.
What are these acronyms?
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𖹭₊˚⊹ the weekend prt 2
you decide to get back at farleigh. it works. | warning: alcohol consumption, slut calling (he doesn't mean it he's just bitter), language.
tags: @ibimbogrl @izzyisstuff
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Everything around you felt like a happy blur; the music was just loud enough to drown out any other thoughts, the bitter aftertaste of alcohol still sat heavy on your pallet, and the body currently behind you was just firm enough to keep you grounded on the busy dance floor.
After telling Anabel about your embarrassing encounter with Farleigh, her advice had been less than logical, but to your angry and hungover mind, it sounded perfect.
"Farleigh's a bit of a cunt. You have to show him that you don't care about him."
That's why you were now, about a week later, a little past tipsy and currently grinding against Tyler.
He was a sweet guy, but you'd admit he was rather boring. His grip on your waist was unsure and shy, and his strong cologne made your nose burn. It was nothing like the deep burgundy that seemed to ooze from Farleigh.
You frowned as your body still almost mindlessly swayed to the music. Why couldn't you stop thinking about that prick? You needed another drink, you thought, turning your body around to face Tyler and telling him you're heading to the bar.
You gave the bartender a smile, ordering another drink and waiting patiently as she went to work, tapping your acrylics against the bar counter.
"You having fun?" a voice asked from next to you, and you didn't even need to turn to know who that obnoxious American accent belonged to. You spared him a look and a false smile. "Loads," you answered curtly, turning your attention back to the bartender. "I'd say," he continued, not deterred by your uninterested demeanor, "with the way you're throwing yourself at anyone."
You scoffed loudly, turning your attention fully to Farleigh. "I'm just dancing," you said, "I wouldn't call that 'throwing myself at anyone'." You watched as he took a sip of his drink, his lips thinning as he sucked his teeth. "That wasn't dancing," he said with a small laugh, "you were practically dry humping each other."
The bartender placed your drink infront of you as she swiftly made her way to the next customer. You pulled it closer, taking a sip as you shrugged at Farleigh. "So what?" you said, watching Tyler eye the two of yours' conversation. You made your way over to him without another word to Farleigh and the tall boy only rolled his eyes in retaliation.
He didn't even know why it bothered him that much, anyway. You were just another girl, like every other girl he had taken back to his dorm room. That's what he tried to tell himself, but every other girl hadn't made him laugh like you did and every other girl didn't make his stomach clench when they licked the salt from his hand before taking a shot. He also didn't check other girls' Facebook accounts after a hookup.
He rolled his eyes again as he watched you find your place back in Tyler's arms, this time facing him as you swayed to the music once again. The iridescent lights bounced off of the material of your dress and casted your whole body in a purple-blue hue. Farleigh swallowed dryly, bringing his drink to his mouth for a big gulp before making his way back to wherever his friends were.
𖹭 ⊹ ˚.
You stood in front of your bathroom mirror, lazily scrubbing away your makeup as you did a mental recap of the night. Tyler had asked if you wanted to go back to his dorm, but you declined politely. He didn't pry at all, walking you to your dorm and greating you with a hug. He was a really nice guy, and a part of you felt bad for kinda leading him on, but those thoughts were quickly smothered when you remembered the way Farleigh's eyes were locked on the two of you with a scowl. A part of you almost wanted to say he was jealous. You laughed at the thought as you splashed your face with cold water before drying off.
You threw yourself on the bed, the alcohol still buzzing nicely in your body as your eyes slipped shut, but before sleep could overtake you, your phone buzzed. Anabel's contact name appeared, and you quickly opened her messages.
Ana: Are you at Tyler's? Are you safe?
Ana: Where r u??
You tapped away at a quick reply.
You: No, I'm home lol.
Ana: Alr, talk tomorrow ;)
Ana: Farleigh called you a slut btw
You rolled your eyes. He barely even knew you, but his reputation perceded him by a mile.
Ana: lol
You: Pot calling the kettle black :|
You placed your phone on your dresser before burying yourself beneath your blanket. Your phone buzzed again, but you were too tired, deciding to answer Anabel in the morning.
𖹭 ⊹ ˚.
a/n: my "soon" actually meant two months lmao I'm sorry gang 🤕
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