Orbitbot

little miss obsessed with fictional characters that would probably hate me and think i'm stupid.

if I see another ‘the summer I turned pretty’ fanfic with the title ‘Cruel Summer’ I might just lose it

The two most handsome man I have ever seen in my entire life.

HERE HERE HERE OKAY IMAGINE TRYING TO WAKE EDDIE UP FOR SCHOOL AND HE'S JUST LIKE "no." SO YOU GIVE UP AND JUST SPEND THE DAY IN BED WITH HIM 🥰🥰

AGGAGAG I LOVE HIM (this is so bad i’m sorry ILY)

“Eddddds,” you chide, smoothing your hand over his frizzy hair. He’s completely sprawled on the bed, hair surrounding him like a dark halo and he’s snoring. Really snoring. He murmurs something unintelligibly before rolling over and promptly falling back asleep. “Eddie Munson! Get up!”

“No.”

You half scoff, stifling a laugh that threatens to bubble over your pouting lips. Putting on your best stern face, you stride over to the other side of the bed, crouching to his level.

“We have to go, Eddie. We’re going to be late!” you whine, stomping your feet petulantly.

“Jus’ c’mere, you brat.” He reaches for you, gazing sleepily under half-lids. He’s an angelic sight, chocolate brown eyes full of love - even if you are irritating him to no end. You entertain him, kicking your shoes off and climbing into the bed with him. His fingers fumble with your shirt, clumsily undoing the buttons before he discards it into the mountain of clothes already inhabiting his bedroom floor. As soon as he’s content with your lack of clothes, he pushes you into the pillows, head nuzzling into your neck.

“Eds!”

“Just spend the day with me, sweetheart. ‘m too tired for school today.”

“We gotta go, Eddie.”

“Nah, not today. ‘sides, you wouldn’t have let me take your clothes off if you really wanted to go.” You huff, pulling the blankets over yourself and kissing his cheek. He kisses your knuckles in return, lips gentle against your protruding bones.

“You’re lucky I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Go to sleep, princess.”

You settle yourself under his arm, eyes already heavy. His fingers - usually adorned with rings but now bare - caress the top of your head, massaging soothing circles into your scalp. His tattoos are a stark contrast to his porcelain skin and you smooth your hands over them, kissing his chest.

“I love you.”

“I love you more,” he mumbles, barely coherent. “Pretty, pretty girl.”

GUYS