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mickyschumacher · 7 months

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𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐂𝐀𝐊𝐄 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you and lando have a pretty healthy relationship; communication is a breeze between the two of you. and while that seems good, it doesn't help lando is horny 24/7. even the beach isn't safe from him.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors dni), established relationship, some fluff, blowjob, slight handjob, breastplay, poor humour LMAO aka old creepy mens' dicks, no time concept lol, basically lando time!

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: bf!lando norris x fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3k+

𝐀/𝐍: now playing: ice cream cake – red velvet! OKAY YES IK I HAVE REQUESTS BUT I HAD WRITER'S BLOCK TILL THIS OKAY? is it not obvious by the word count? 😭 alexa, play 'easy on me' by adele :( also new banners after i messed around one day! ♡︎ // proof-read-ish!

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆ •°. ｡ .°• ⋆

You had met Lando two years ago purely on accident. You were at a coffee shop in Brighton, he was visiting a friend there. You ordered a hot chocolate and he had ordered a long black. Somehow the both of you had swapped cups and were wincing at how sweet or bitter the drink was.

Lando had turned his cup around to see who the cup belonged to. Upon seeing your name, unlike a normal person who would ask the barista for another cup or a refund, he had shouted your name across the room.

Lucky for you, you were the only other customer there since it was a slow day. Nevertheless, you looked up in shock. Who yelled out your name? Why? How did they know your name?

You actually purposely avoided eye-contact with his table just in case he was some weird guy. But Lando got your attention after telling you from across that room that you had some sweet taste in drinks.

You raised a brow. Was this some sort of new catcall you didn't know about? But then you had caught the barista's handwriting on 'your' cup. Lando, Long Black.

You scrunched your nose at the cup and looked at him. "You're quite bitter."

It was at that point when Lando had got a clear shot of your face and found his heart racing faster than normal. You were pretty, no gorgeous, no beautiful, no... surreal. Your face was contorted into a grimaced expression at his order which he found amusing. You looked like, what he still claims to this day, part of the shop's couch. The couch was brown and you were wearing a brown sweater.

Honestly, Lando couldn't find the whole situation anymore endearing. So with whatever confidence he had leftover, he walked up to your table and smoothly asked, "Can I get you a sweeter one with my number?"

Now this was when you first had probably got a look of Lando. He had a certain... boyish charm, if you will. The wide grin, sparkling blue eyes, face dotted with the odd freckle or beauty mark. To say he was attractive was an understatement. He looked like one of the main characters in the rom-coms you would binge when you needed a pick me-up.

You said yes. Obviously.

And here you were, two years later. At the beach with Lando, Charles, Carlos, Daniel, and their partners. You were all caught up with F1, always available for Lando. Your perspective of him had changed quite a lot since you had met him. In a good way, of course.

You initially saw him how a lot most of his fans and the media see him. A comedian by day and a moodmaker by night. Always smiling and cheery. Positive and optimistic. But the reality was that Lando struggled with the mental and physical aspects of F1. He didn't always have the confidence and he was stressed and depressed.

But as Lando always said in his interviews, he had found you.

'The best thing that had ever happened to him,' according to Lando himself.

Anyone could see that the two of you loved each other with your entire beings. Neither of you left any stone unturned in your relationship. Most people were jealous of your relationship. The drivers, the media, and especially the fans.

And you wouldn't have it any other way.

━━━━━━━━━━━

One thing about Lando that you had learned quite soon after your first time together was that Lando was insatiable. He was sex-driven, horny, full of lust, aroused... all the words in the dictionary for a man like this... 24/7.

One day, you asked him why. Lando only responded with pulling you closer to him, leaving a trail of kisses from your jaw and down to your neck, and saying "You."

You wouldn't say anything did it for him. No in fact, it was specific things that he couldn't take his mind off once he thought about it.

Take right now for example.

Carlos had decided to treat everyone to ice creams, ice lollies, and juice on your trip to the beach in Playa de Bolonia. Innocently and naively, you had chosen the pink ice lolly out the chilly bin. Lando had also not thought anything of it.

Rather Lando had being eyeing you with every spare glance as you were wearing his favourite bikini, the one he had bought you for Christmas as a prank gift in the nice British winter thinking it had been the funniest thing ever. Obviously, he thought you were going to were it but another thing you had learned was that Lando's humour quite often was unmatched and spontaneous.

The bikini itself was simple. An orange, of course, two-piece. The top was held up by two moderately thin straps and hugged your breasts quite nicely. The bikini bottom was as normal as it could get, clinging to your hips. On top of it, you wore a white thin-laced cotton coverup, loosely tied together.

You would say it was an average beach look. Lando would disagree. It was as if God himself had carved you and decided to put you on Earth as reparations for the bad in the world.

But back to the point.

As mentioned, Lando hadn't really thought of the ice lolly. He was too busy trying to get Daniel back with a water gun. Like you said, boyish. It wasn't until he had finally got him back and decided to go sit down with you and grab himself some ice cream.

But when Lando sat down and looked at you, his mind had suddenly turned into shambles. There you were. Under the shade, peaks of sun shining on your skin, holding that pink ice lolly to your mouth.

Lando wasn't quite sure what was worse. The faint pink colour similar to his cock or the way your tongue travelled down the length of it to collect the melting sugary liquid. Or how your lips pressed up on the tip of the ice and pressed down to take an inch more of it into your mouth as if it was his own cock.

To make matters even worse for him, you had failed to capture some of the melting droplets. Lando keenly watched as they fell to your bare part of your chest and even had landed right where he knew your nipple was. His eyes widened ever so slightly and his breath paced when you frowned at the event and used your finger to wipe the sweet liquid off your skin and into your mouth. Some of it had gone too far down, probably pooling near your breasts like he imagined.

What sent him overboard? When you had spotted the stain on your bikini top over your nipple and attempted to rub it away, only making the stain worse and a small bump for your pebbled nipple.

Lando gulped nervously, pants incredibly tight. He closed his eyes and held his hands over his newly-formed hard on, wishing that his mind wasn't full of everything he had just seen. Your lips... your breasts... the way your eyes looked down at the popsicle... if only that was his cock....

"Lando? Dude, do you need to go to the bathroom?" Pierre's voice cut through the air.

Lando snapped his eyes opened and your eyes looked over to your boyfriend.

"W-What?" The British male queried with slight panic. He was not getting caught with a hard-on in front of his friends... there was no way in Earth...

Pierre raised a brow, gesturing to his pants. "You're ice cream is all melted. You need to take your eyes off Y/N at least sometimes, Lando, otherwise you'll never finish... your ice cream, that is," He teased.

You looked down at Lando's pants where his hands laid, covered in the white vanilla ice cream-turned liquid. You and everyone let out an amused laugh at Pierre's joke, shaking your head.

You stood up from the sandy grass you were sat on, dusting yourself off. You extended your hand to Lando, "Come on. I bought extra stuff in the car. Honestly, I thought you were going to lose your trunks by Daniel pantsing you in the water but I guess not."

A howl of laughter came from Charles and Carlos while Daniel cursed himself for not doing it.

Lando blinked, pulling the finger at his fellow drivers. He sighed, grabbing your hand and awkwardly standing up from the area, managing to cover up his bulge swiftly.

The two of you headed to the car as Lando briefly threw out the sticky wrapper and stick into a bin nearby. You opened the boot of the car, grabbing his trunks. "Jesus, could it get any hotter today?" You asked, closing the back door.

"It really couldn't," Lando mused, walking hand-in-hand with you, making you release a groan.

"Lando... now my hand's all sticky, you idiot," You complained, trying to pull apart from his hand.

Lando rolled his eyes, arriving to the empty males changing room. He was about to enter when he saw you stand outside and not follow him. "What are you doing? Come in."

You narrowed your eyes. "It's a male changing room. I'm not going in. What if there's some old man trying to change? I do not need to be scarred for life. My DMs is enough, thanks."

"First of all, there's no one here," Lando stated before shouting a loud 'Hello' into the room, making you redden with embarassment. "See? Secondly, I'm sorry, let me get this straight, your DMs are full of old men's dicks?" Lando looked at you incredulously.

You grinned, shrugging. "It's called being a woman, Lando. You wouldn't get it."

Lando rolled his eyes once again, grabbing you by the arm and dragging you into the changing room.

The room was the opposite of most changing rooms. It was tiled well, clean and fresh as opposed to musty, damp and with paint-chipped walls. There were also no leaky taps or showers or even any graffiti. It was slightly comforting to know that at least people respected some of their public rooms, even in Madrid.

"Wait, also, what if I get old? You don't want to see my shrivelled dick? It should turn you on!" Lando asked with a dramatic gasp.

You looked at your boyfriend through the mirror with a dumfounded expression. Turning, you threw his trunks at his face. "Go change," You laughed, shaking your head.

Lando grinned underneath the trunks as you turned the tap on to wash your sugar-coated hands.

Lando had removed his trunks, left naked with his hard, reddened cock slapping against his stomach, and was about to put on the new ones when a thought passed his mind.

You paused your hand-washing and froze when you felt Lando's arms wrap around your stomach, pulling you close to his bare body. "Lando," You yelped, feeling a shiver cross your body, "What are you doing?"

Lando peered down at you through his thick eyelashes. He tucked his chin into your shoulder, placing a brief kiss. "What?" He asked innocently, "I'm just washing my hands. I can't get the new ones dirty either."

You watched through the mirror as he pressed his body into you, washing his hands under the tap, ridding the tackiness on his hands.

You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling his cock push into your backside. It was bare, you realised, as the heat spread into you. Your eyes flickered to Lando through the mirror, squinting at him. He wasn't...

Lando caught your eyes staring hard at him. "Don't look at me like that," He whispered into your ear, a loose grin hanging on his face. His wet fingers travelled to the poorly tied lace coverup you wore, undoing the knot with ease. The coverup fell against your shoulders, revealing your bikini and body in all it's glory.

"You have to clean up as well," Lando shrugged, eyes fixated on you through the mirror. "You made a mess," He murmured, wetting his fingers with the water once more before placing it against your chest.

You pressed your lips tightly, feeling his fingers drive down your skin and underneath your bikini top. Lando's fingers brushed your hardened nipples, making you shudder under his touch. His fingers trailed across your breasts, wiping away any of that sticky residue that you had missed. Bringing his fingers to his mouth and taking a wide lick of them, Lando grinned at you. "You know... I can't stop picturing you sucking my dick like that ice lolly. Never thought I would be jealous of an ice lolly."

You couldn't help but smile in amusement. You pulled away from his hold and turned to face your boyfriend. "Yeah?" You hummed, hands trailing down his chest. Lando had been working out a lot more these days for F1; compared to before his abs had become more prominent and toned. You loved Lando no matter what he looked like, but there was something about the way his skin flushed when you touched his torso.

Lando's breath hitched as your hand had ever so naturally found it's way to his cock. His cock, if you could say it, was pretty. It was average in length and with a nice, filling girth, stretching all of your holes wide.

Your fingers brushed across the tip of his head, just grazing his slit. You could feel Lando jolt in your hands as he muttered, “Fuck.”

You opened your mouth, letting a drop of saliva full into his cock. Hand wrapped around it, you gently rubbed natural lube up and down his shaft. Lando’s jaw clenched at the warm liquid nestling around his cock, letting a sharp exhale through gritted teeth.

Slowly you sunk down to your knees. The tiled floor was cold against your burning skin but it didn’t matter: you were too focused on what was right in front of you; cockdrunk. Your tongue darted out to swipe your lips before pressing a light kiss to his cock. Lando could feel himself twitch, aching to be in your mouth.

He watched as your lips opened like they did on that ice lolly. Going down in his cock, your lips stretched and your mouth hollowed.

Lando groaned at the warmth surrounding his cock. He bit down on his lip, watching his cock disappear into your mouth. Your eyes were on him as you sucked him, teeth barely grazing his skin.

"Fuck, you look so pretty like this, Y/N," Lando sighed out, "On your knees for me. I can't imagine the mess you made between those legs of yours, hmm?"

You moaned in response, sending a vibration around his cock. You briefly pulled away from him, making Lando grunt in slight annoyance at the loss. "These lips, my pussy.... all yours," You winked at him before returning to his cock.

Lando tensed at your words, letting a grin overtake him. "Yeah? Let's see about that throat, baby?" His hands reached your half dry and half damp, salty hair. Wrapping those long tresses around his hand and wrist, he tightened his grip. He could feel you open up your throat as he guided his cock down the tighter tunnel.

Lando's rasping groan made you clench your thighs, holding a barrier to the wetness leaking at of you. You could feel him begin to move his hips, beginning to push his cock into your throat.

Fighting the urge to gag around his cock, you tried hard to relax your cheeks and mouth, allowing every inch of him to be seated in your throat.

He flickered his eyes to you. Watching you take him in his mouth was a pleasure of its own. Your big eyes were glassy with tears of arousal and a haze of lust, sweat and saliva lingered at every edge of your skin, and your lips were puffy and red. Trailing his eyes further down, he spotted your bare neck in dire need of kisses, but that wasn't the most striking thing about it. It was the slight bulge of his cock in your throat making it's presence known.

Jesus...

Lando instinctively closed his eyes upon feeling your hands touch his balls. You rubbed them gently, feeling your head bob at an increased rate to match the sudden pace of Lando's cock in your throat.

"Fuck, fuck... I..." Lando moaned. "I'm gonna cum!" Lando hissed out, feeling a familiar bubbling feeling overcome. His thrusts become harder and faster, your nose flushed with his skin.

His moans became irregular and higher, chasing his release. "Fuck...." A guttural groan fell from his lips. Hot, salty white strips of his cum coated the inside of your mouth, swirling around after each drop was sucked from your lips. Almost painfully, Lando removed himself from your mouth. His chest rose up and down as he breathed out heavily.

An admiring smile came from Lando while he pulled you up to meet his face. He pushed your sweaty hair back. "That mouth of yours is evil," He narrowed his eyes playfully.

"You should shut me up then," You quipped back, sticking out your tongue that still had his cum on it.

Lando's eyes sparkled with amusement before he brought his lips to yours, darting his tongue into your mouth. The urgency in the action was understated. God, he could taste himself in you. His hands encapsulated your waist, flushing your barely clothed body to close his naked one. Your own hands travelled everywhere across his chest as the two of you kissed each other.

The muffled moans from you made Lando want to hear them out loud. Slowly he moved from your lips to your jaw. "Let me hear you, baby," He breathed out, placing smaller kisses as he reached your neck.

You let out a small whimper, neck tilting so Lando could get more access. Lando grinned at the sight of your bare neck, leaving small little nibbles across your skin. His lips eventually became settled in an area between your ear and collarbone, beginning to suck at your warmth.

"Lando," You moaned, "No, the others will realise."

Your refutes were ill-attempted even for yourself. You were dazed at the suction of his lips. His nose buried into your neck while he created a fresh layer of purple against your sun-kissed skin.

Lando released himself from your neck, eyeing down his creation with a smirk. "There. If they couldn't tell from your hair, they'll definitely know now."

You narrowed your eyes, turning to the mirror only for your eyes to widen in shock. "Jesus fucking Christ, Lando," You peered at the big purple brown splotch on your skin. "As if the 20 minutes we've spent here wasn't enough," You whined.

Lando laughed softly, standing behind you with his arms around your waist and chin resting on your head. "Well... if you make it through the shame, I can't wait to properly fuck you when we get home. You must know how much I love the way you look when I’m inside you."

Your head fell against his chest with a pout. "Why not now?"

Lando grinned before pressing a kiss to your head "Like you said... it's been 20 minutes."

#mickyschumacher #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 smut #lando norris fanfic #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris

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soapsbaby · 10 months

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Bunch of Deviants II

Summary: Second part of me assigning a k!nk to each of the 141 + Alejandro, Rudy, Graves, König and Valeria that I could imagine them having. You can find part one here. Enjoy!

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, König, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, Phillip Graves, Alejandro Vargas, Rudy Parras, Valeria Garza, all x reader

Rating: NSFW (minors DNI)

Warnings: Choking, Primal Kink, Free Use, Degradation

Word Count: 1.3k-ish

Ghost - Primal

He loves the thrill of hunting you down. Even though you of course know that it's just him, the panic you feel when he catches you is genuine. The way he towers over you, eyes cold except for the sense of victory in them that he caught you and that you are now his to deal with whatever he wants to.

Usually he just takes you right where he catches you, ripping your clothes from your body and fucking you, pinning you down and just holding you in whichever position he needs you in.

He will be so humiliating and degrading, oh, you should run faster next time, are you actually enjoying this? you really are a needy little slut.

After he has come and you are all fucked out he will hold you, just pressing you to his chest until your heartbeat returns to a normal pace.

Soap - Receiving Nudes at Work

He loves when you rile him up through the entire day, sending him pictures, videos or voice messages, telling him how badly you want him, how you need him, how you've been touching yourself all day but it just doesn't compare to when he does it.

He won't be able to think straight until he's finally back home with you and gets to actually fuck you, working off the frustration you put him through.

Usually he just has to get himself off as quickly as possible, fucking you desperately, but he isn't done just because he came. Usually he'll take his time afterwards to eat you out for as long as you can take.

He also makes sure to save all of the messages so he can go through them later, especially on long missions with bad internet reception where it is all he can use to get himself off.

Price - Watching you Touch yourself

He loves watching you touch yourself for him. It started once when he walked in on you and instead of joining in, he just sat down on the foot of the bed, telling you to keep going even though your first reaction was to cover yourself with your blanket.

He loves the way he can read your body, can tell when you are getting closer, those little whines when you push yourself right up to the edge. He knows you too well.

He loves watching you come for him while he strokes himself. You look so beautiful when you do and he takes in every aspect of you, the way your eyelids flutter shut, your legs shaking and your mouth falling open, his name spilling over your lips.

His favorite part is when he finally gets to fuck you for round two, you are so wet after you've come once already and you are so whiny and sensitive.

Gaz - Free Use

Free use goes both ways for you. Especially if you have longer periods of vacation times where you can stay home you will fuck wherever and whenever. Whether it is you walking in while he plays video games and sucking him off while he tries to not let the people on voice chat know or him pushing up your dress while you are working in the kitchen to fuck you from behind, you love being available for each other.

For convenience you both usually don't wear much clothes at home anyways and you also sleep naked.

Of course you both know that you can deny favors to one another if you are not feeling up to it, but neither of you really ever do. Each other's pleasure is enough motivation.

König - Thigh Riding

Having you ride his thigh is one of his favorite things, he loves the way it gives him close to no physical stimulation so he can focus completely on you without any distractions.

He loves the desperation in your eyes when you drag yourself across him, grinding your hips against his leg because it's the only thing he'll let you have if he's feeling strict.

Sometimes, when you are already overstimulated he will grab you by the hips and make you grind down even harder and faster, feasting on your whimpers.

It's one of his favorite ways to make you come, the way your movements stutter and he has to grab you to hold you upright, whispering sweet praise into your ears.

Graves - Pegging

It took him so, so long to admit to you that he wanted you to peg him. He was terrified that you would reject him or even be weirded out by his request. He didn't want to make you feel any different about him.

Of course you didn't, and you both loved it from the first time you tried it out. Everything about his reaction to being fucked refuses to leave your mind, the way his body just seemed to melt into the sheets, legs refusing to support him, hands tangled in the sheets for some form of support.

You have never heard him moan the way he does every time you peg him, his mind just immediately turns into putty and all of his dirty thoughts just spill out, begging for you to go harder.

Will usually be able to come hands free if you take your time with him.

Alejandro - Degradation

He loves you more than anything in the world and he respects and adores you, but there is just something about treating you like a dirty whore that gets him going like nothing else.

He loves making you give him sloppy blowjobs and making you drool all over him, he loves bending you over whichever surface is closest to you and just taking you then and there.

He loves treating you like you are property, like you're a toy he gets to use to get himself off, pushing you into whichever position he wants you in.

He doesn't let go until you have come at least a few times, his favorite is when you come around his cock, the way you clench around him and that sweet, overwhelmed look in your eyes drives him insane.

He will always make sure afterwards that you are okay and that you know that none of the ways he treated you reflect how he actually feels about you and that you know how much he loves and appreciates you.

Rudy - Choking

The majority of the time there is no clear dom-sub relationship between the two of you, however, he adores you choking him.

His favorite position is when you are riding him and then wrap your hands around his throat, just tight enough to make him a little dizzy.

He'll beg for you to kiss him, take away even more of his ability to breathe.

He comes so hard being choked, almost passing out and whimpering for you to go harder on him.

Valeria - Strap-Ons

It doesn't matter what your gender is, if you let her, she'll use her strap on you.

She almost sees it as an extension of herself, she adores seeing you on your knees and making you suck the strap, praising and degrading you at the same time as she fucks your throat as deeply as you can take it, "such a pretty slut, so needy for my cock, aren't you?"

She fucks you like she wants you to never be able to walk again, rough and deep, long deep strokes. If the position allows it she'll also use her hands on you, circling your most sensitive spots with her thumb and taking pleasure in your desperate, whiny moans.

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saetoshi · 1 year

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corazón de melón.

tldr; the one time you have a proper conversation with itoshi sae ends up unleashing a series of events you never imagined could’ve happened.

wc. 10.2k

¿?: roommates to lovers, college!au, idiots in love, this is pure domesticity tbh, fluff, lowk word vomit, ooc-ish sae (he’s a silly lil guy sometimes this is the hill i’ll die on), slow burn ig ??, swearing, someone’s mean to you (not sae), not proofread (no surprise)

a/n: i have so many emotions in my heart for sae, SOMEONE SEDATE ME PLEASE FREE ME FROM HIM I CANT LIVE NORMALLY ANYMORE, turned rue into a sae liker for this so real of me, @rintosei, enjoy ur meal my children this is probably the longest thing i’ll write in a hot minute

when others think of itoshi sae, many words come to mind: genius, talented, jerk, asshole, rude, mean, scary, lashes, pretty—the list goes on.

you have no particular thoughts about sae. all he is to you is your roommate. you’d like to have an opinion of him, but that seems impossible with the way you can count the number of times you’ve spoken to him with one hand.

though, if you had to be honest, the only common thread in the few interactions you’ve had is that he very clearly does not care for your company—or anyone’s company, for that matter.

not that you blame him. if you had to deal with having to go to practice after a day of classes, you wouldn’t want to interact with anyone else, either. (you’d also not have the energy to do anything.)

it’s why you’re used to hearing him get back to the apartment while you’re eating dinner; why you started leaving some leftovers for him to eat whenever he wants to.

it’s also why you’re surprised when he comes back from practice earlier than usual. you jump when you hear the front door open, placing your hand over your heart.

your turn to the door, eyes widening slightly when you see sae walk in. you don’t greet him—you never do—you don’t think he’d appreciate it. (he never greets you either, so you assumed it was fine.)

so, you turn your attention back to the tv, reaching out to grab the broom. you quickly start sweeping, humming a tune while the noise of whatever drama is playing in the background fills the apartment.

you barely register that sae’s door doesn’t open, but the thought quickly leaves your mind when something dramatic happens to one of the leads.

you take a step back, an unceremonious yelp leaving your lips when your back bumps into something. a second passes by before you slowly tilt your head back.

your eyes are met with a pair of teal ones. a sheepish smile tugs at your lips, “hi?”

he raises a brow, “what are you doing?”

“cleaning.” you move the broom from side to side in hopes to draw his attention to it. (he barely glances at it before his eyes snap back to yours.)

you take a step forward, moving to face him. he just stares at you. an awkward silence settles between the two of you.

“you’re back early.” you hope he didn’t hear your voice crack.

he blinks, clearly uninterested. “practice ended early.”

you hum, nervously bouncing on the balls of your feet. you huff, tapping your fingers against the broom. “i see.”

it’s clear both of you feel uncomfortable. still, neither of you makes a move to leave. you’re more surprised sae’s still standing in front of you. (sae’s mildly intrigued you’re attempting to talk to him.)

you open your mouth to speak, but promptly shut it close. you repeat the action two more times before sae interrupts you, “what?”

your eyes drift away from his. you gnaw on your bottom lip. “it’s nothing.”

he glares at you. “just spit it out.”

your eyes widen, snapping back to look at him as you dismissively wave your hand. “it’s really nothing, you can just leave!”

“you clearly have something you want to say to me,” he deadpans, “so i suggest you get it over with so we can put an end to this lukewarm conversation.”

you take a deep breath, wiping one hand against your shirt, gently swaying the broom with the other. “i was just wondering, y’know since you’re back early–”

“hurry up.”

“do you wanna eat together?” you look at the ground, feet shuffling uncomfortably. the silence feels unbearable.

“that’s it?” the confusion in his voice confuses you. you lift your eyes to stare at him, confusion etched in your face.

your head tilts to the side in confusion, “what do you mean ‘that’s it’?”

“you wanna eat with me?” he points at himself. his brows knit when you nod. sae owlishly blinks,

“okay.”

his eyes widen in confusion when he sees an elated smile bloom on your lips.

“i won’t start cooking yet, since i at least have to finish sweeping,” you hum, “but if you’re hungry you could get started on something and i’ll join you when i’m done.”

“i can’t cook.” sae awkwardly coughs. he shoves his hands into his pockets, looking away from you, a soft flush spreading through his cheeks.

“oh,” you blink, smiling at him. “that’s fine! i can cook something while you clean instead.”

the blush on his cheeks deepens as his brows furrow. “i don’t know how to clean.”

your smile tightens, eyes squinting as you inch closer to him.

there’s a beat of silence. “what can you do then?”

“play football.” you wait a few seconds for him to say something else.

“that’s it?”

“yeah.” he says it as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. (as if it was the only thing that mattered.)

you rub your forehead, a dry laugh escaping your lips.

if you were to tell others of this discovery you’re sure they wouldn’t believe you. you’re not even sure you believe him, yourself.

at least you didn’t, until he took the broom from your grasp. you have to bite back your laughter when he can’t even hold it properly. you wonder how he’d manage to survive alone.

itoshi sae is basically useless outside of football, you conclude. (and you’re not sure if this is the opinion you want to have about your roommate.)

it’s been a week since you learned about sae’s lack of ability to do seemingly anything other than kick a ball around.

it’s also been a week since he started coming back from practice earlier. you have mixed feelings about it. on one hand, you find it strangely comforting knowing you’re not alone in the apartment. on the other, sae just stares at you while you clean.

you’re sick of feeling his eyes follow you around. it feels like a predator watching its prey. having his eyes trail you makes you feel judged, and you’ve had enough.

so, you tighten your grip around the mop in your hands, turning around to look at sae. you take a deep breath, “why are you staring at me?”

he blinks, propping an arm on a couch cushion and leaning his head into his palm. “i’m trying to learn.”

confusion paints itself all over your face, “learn what?”

“learn to clean.” you hate when he says things like they’re the most obvious thing ever. it makes you feel as if he expects you to know what goes on in his head.

“by staring at me?” you raise a brow.

he simply shrugs, “i’m a visual learner.”

you don’t know if you believe him.

so, you place one of your hands on your hips, tilting the mop back and forth with the other one. “in that case, you should try cleaning today.”

his eyes widen, mouth curling into a fine line. “i don’t think i’m ready for that.”

you take a step closer to him, holding the mop out to him. “well, i think that after a week of watching me you should start practicing what you’ve learned.”

“don’t ever think again.” he frowns.

“oh, please,” you roll your eyes, “don’t tell me the itoshi sae is afraid of a little mopping.”

that makes him get up. you bite back the satisfied smile threatening to creep up your face when he snatches the mop from your hands.

“i’m just supposed to move this side to side, right?” he stiffly holds the mop, looking at you with a raised brow.

“‘m not gonna help you out,” you make your way to the couch, mimicking his earlier position. “if you’ve been learning from staring at me for a week then you should know what to do.”

“i know what to do.” he rolls his eyes, “i just don’t know how to do it.”

“figure it out, then.” you lean forward against the palm of your hand, trying to hide your smile behind your fingers.

he glares at you and scoffs, redirecting his attention to the object in his hands. you fail to stifle your laughter when he moves the mop in a sweeping motion.

“don’t laugh!” his grip tightens around the mop, heat rushing to his ears.

you bite your tongue, the ghost of a smile still lingering on your lips, “i’m not.”

he tsks, slightly pouting. he walks towards you, dragging the mop behind him. you look up at him, you eyes flutter closed when he flicks your forehead.

“teach me.” your eyes snap open, flickering to meet his. a confused noise leaves your lips as your brows furrow.

“teach you what?” your eyes flutter when he flicks your forehead again.

sae’s eye twitches in annoyance, “are you stupid or something?”

you glare at him, “not everyone thinks the same things you do!”

he clicks his tongue, rolling his eyes. he points at the mop and then at himself. “teach me to clean.”

“i thought you said you were a visual learner.” you deadpan.

“consider this your punishment for laughing at me.” he huffs, a condescending smile blooming on his lips when he sees your pained expression.

his face leans closer to yours, “i look forward to learning from you, teach.”

you dumbly stare at him as he places the mop in your hands. he flashes you a shit-eating grin before retreating to his room. you blink twice before coming to your senses, punching the couch cushions in anger.

you wish you hadn’t found out itoshi sae was a little shit. you much preferred when you only thought of him as your useless roommate.

itoshi sae is the most infuriating student you’ve ever met.

you thought someone described as a genius would be a much better student than he actually is. he doesn’t pay attention to anything you say at all. you wonder if his teachers just let him pass the class because they don’t want him around anymore.

you have a newfound respect for his actual teachers. you don’t know how they manage to stand him for a whole semester when you don’t think you can even last two weeks. (it’s still longer than you expected.)

“sae,” you loudly sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, “you’re doing it wrong. again.”

his grip around the broom tightens, his knuckles turning white, “i’m doing what you told me to do!”

“you’re not!” you groan, running a hand down your face, “gosh, how do you manage to do everything i tell you the wrong way?”

“what, so i’m the problem?” his eyes narrow, he takes a step closer to you, “have you ever thought that maybe you’re a bad teacher?”

an angry gasp leaves your lips, “excuse me?!”

“you heard me.” he grits his teeth, “you’re clearly the most lukewarm teacher ever. how do you expect me to learn when you don’t care about teaching me properly?”

“have you ever considered that maybe i don’t want to teach you because you forced me to?” you rub your temples in a poor attempt to prevent the coming headache.

he scoffs, brows knitting in annoyance, “you could at least put more effort into making sure i’m learning.”

“you think i’m not?” you point him square in the chest, glaring at him. “i’m doing my best here, okay? it’s not my fault you’re a shit student.”

“you–”

“you listen while your teacher is speaking.” you seethe, grabbing a fistful of his shirt, “i’m trying to do the best i can. i’m not qualified to teach you anything, especially not with how you don’t even pay attention to what i say!”

he frowns, “well, i–”

you shake him as hard as you can, angry tears pooling in your eyes, “you’re the most ungrateful, useless piece of fucking shit i’ve ever met in my life!”

sae grabs your wrists, letting the broom fall with a clang to the floor. he stares at you with wide eyes. you blink, heat creeping up your face in embarrassment.

there’s a beat of silence. sae’s eyes scan your face. “you good?”

he lets out a soft sigh of relief when you nod. “are you going to punch me if i let go?”

he relaxes a little when you shake your head. he looks at you as he slowly lets go of your hands. you stare at him, wide eyed as he gently walks you over to the couch and sits you down.

sae plops down on the other end of the couch, glancing at you. he opens his mouth to speak, but promptly closes it. you stop yourself from laughing at his awkwardness. (it reminds you of how you must’ve acted when you talked to him a couple of weeks ago.)

you twist the hem of your shirt in your hands, looking away from sae, gnawing on your bottom lip. “’m sorry about that.”

“don’t apologize.” he coughs awkwardly, crossing his arms, “i probably stressed you out too much.”

“yeah, but, still,” you turn to face him, “i shouldn’t have said something so rude.”

“it’s fine. i really did deserve that, after all.” an amused laugh escapes his lips, “i’ve never heard you so mad before, though.”

you tilt your head to the side, “what do you mean?”

“i mean,” a hint of amused smile tugs at the corners of his lips, “you tend to get really loud when you complain about your classes. i can hear you all the way to my room.”

your face heats up in embarrassment. you slump against the couch, hiding your face behind your hands. “sorry.”

“stop apologizing,” you slightly relax when you hear a sliver of empathy in his voice. “it’s better to let your emotions out instead of holding them in.”

you lower your hands from your face, staring at him. “do you do that?”

“it depends,” he hums, “feelings are lukewarm most of the time, so when i get angry or whatever i’ll let it out so i can get it over with.”

you narrow your eyes at him, scanning his face. “how does that even work?”

he shrugs nonchalantly, “if i get mad at someone i’ll say it to their face while i’m still mad so i can stop being angry.”

you mull over his words, “so instead of having pent up feelings and reaching your limit, you just act on your emotions as soon as possible so you go back to feeling nothing?”

“pretty much.”

a small hum leaves your lips. silence settles between the two of you before a loud growl echoes through the apartment. laughter bubbles in your chest, spilling out of your mouth when sae’s face flushes.

“shut up!” he hides behind his hands, “i haven’t eaten all day!”

you stand up, walking over and extending a hand out to sae, “wanna help out with dinner?”

he lowers his hands from his face, glancing between your eyes and your hand. he blinks, “i can’t cook.”

“i know,” a smile blooms on your lips, “you can consider it your first lesson.”

sae’s eyes light up, the corners of his lips tilting up ever so slightly. “you’re still gonna teach me?”

“i can’t let you stay useless forever.” you stick your tongue out at him, smiling when he grabs your hand.

a huff of laughter escapes his lips when you fail to tug him up. you flip him off before leaving him behind on the couch. a smile lingers on his face when he follows you to the kitchen.

he’s not a good assistant. (and he’s an even worse cook). in fact, if you’d known that letting him into the kitchen would’ve resulted in having to evacuate the building due to the fire alarm, you wouldn’t have asked for his help at all.

however, you do appreciate that he invited you out for dinner later as an apology for stressing you out.

(it makes you think he’s more considerate than he pretends to be.)

you’ve lost track of the times you’ve had to apologize to your neighbors over sae activating the fire alarm.

it’s embarrassing enough that seemingly everyone in the complex goes to your college, but sae seems to make it worse by glaring at anyone who so much as looks in your direction with a judgemental stare.

“i can’t keep going on like this,” you cover your face with your hands. you shrink into yourself when you feel multiple eyes staring at the back of your head.

“stop overreacting.” sae clicks his tongue. still, he discreetly grabs the hem of your shirt and gently pulls you closer to his side.

you lower your hands from your face, frowning at him as tears of shame pool in your eyes. “everyone’s judging us!”

“just ignore them.” he awkwardly pats your head, “they’ll forget about it soon enough.”

“sae, this happens almost every week!” you cry, gnawing your lower lip, “some guy yelled at me last time because we interrupted his studying! do you have any idea how long i had to apologize for?”

his jaw clenches as anger flashes through his face for a split second before his uninterested expression returns. “what’d he look like?”

“i don’t know,” you blink, “he was tall. he also had brown-ish hair, i think?”

he shoves his hands in his pockets, tilting his head in the direction of the building, “do you know his apartment number?”

“no,” you sigh. “why?”

the corners of his lips quirk up into a mischievous smile. “i was thinking of baking him some apology cookies.”

you cover your mouth in a feeble attempt to stifle your laughter. (if everyone was staring at you in judgment for triggering the fire alarm, now they’re judging you for laughing in this situation.)

sae tugs you into the building when you’re all cleared to enter, glaring at a few neighbors who shoot dirty looks at both of you.

you smack his arm, “stop doing that, you’re embarrassing us!”

he scoffs, flipping off anyone who’s still staring, “does it look like i care? they’re all too scared to say anything to my face, anyway.”

“yeah, but they always say shit to me when you’re gone,” you click your tongue, frowning. sae drags you up the stairs to your apartment.

both of you stand in front of your door when sae puts his hands on your shoulders, staring at you in the eyes. his eyes are a pretty shade of teal, you note.

“if anyone gives you shit when you’re alone, just remember what they look like, ‘kay?” he flicks your forehead, a malicious gleam in his eyes, “i’ll make sure to personally apologize for the trouble.”

a smile blooms on your lips, “you’re so mean.”

“shut up,” he rolls his eyes, pinching your cheek, “as your roommate, i’m the only one allowed to give you a hard time.”

“whatever you say, freak,” you rub your cheek, smile widening, swatting his hand away when he reaches out to pinch your other cheek.

sae bites back a smile as he nods his head toward the door. “did you bring your key?”

you reach into your pockets, feeling around for the key. your head tilts down, eyes widening in panic when you don’t find anything.

an embarrassed chuckle slips past your lips when you lift your head back up to look at sae. he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“gosh, you’re so useless.”

you kick his shin, sticking your tongue out at him, “you don’t get to say that to me.”

he sticks his tongue out at you in return, crossing his arms. “whatever. just go and ask the landlord for a key.”

“me?” you raise your brows at him, haughtily tilting your head to the side, “you’re the reason we had to evacuate the building in the first place! i think it’s only fair that you get the key.”

sae opens his mouth to tell you off, but seemingly decides to sigh loudly in annoyed defeat instead, “fine.”

you smile triumphantly, turning to face him, your eyes closing as your chest puffs out in pride. sae rests his index finger on your forehead. your eyes flutter open in confusion at the contact, smile dropping into a curious pout.

“tell me if anyone bothers you while i’m gone.” he flicks your forehead one last time before turning around and walking away. a content smile blooms on your lips as you stare at his back, sliding down to sit next to the door.

you don’t tell him the tall guy from last time dropped by to yell at you again. sae didn’t even have to ask to tell something was wrong with the way your smile seemed dimmer when you told him you’d take over making lunch.

he doesn’t tell you he’s going to give that asshole the ‘apology’ cookies he’d mentioned before. (and he definitely doesn’t mention that he got his apartment number from the landlord when he got the key to your apartment.) but you had an inkling of what he was going to do when you saw him take out some bowls and a whisk from the cabinets. (you didn’t stop him.)

you bake him some actual ‘thank you’ cookies and place them by his door before heading to your room for the night. the next morning you find a post-it with an ‘anytime’ messily scribbled on it and a ‘thanks for the cookies :)’ on the other side.

you smile fondly at the teal-colored square. you think it resembles the color of his eyes. (it makes you feel warm and fuzzy.)

sae’s gotten slightly better at cooking. he’s able to make at least one meal without triggering the fire alarms.

you feel proud. you suppose that’s what teachers feel when their most lazy, unmotivated student finally manages to put effort into something.

it makes you feel proud enough that you take a detour to the convenience store on your way home. a fond smile lights up your face when you walk out of the store, plastic bag in hand with a chocolate bar and a pack of star stickers.

there’s a skip to your step as you head home, swinging the bag back and forth.

you’ve barely even opened the door to your apartment when it swings open. your eyes widen in surprise when they meet sae’s.

his eyes narrow, “what took you so long?”

a slightly burnt scent wafts the apartment. your nose scrunches, “is something burning?”

“answer my question first,” he points the spatula in his hand at you.

“i got you a reward,” you smile, lifting the bag in your hands.

his eyes light up, “what’d you get me?”

you quickly hide the bag behind your back when he reaches out for it. “answer my question first.”

a small smile tugs at his lips. he rolls his eyes, “nothing is burning. i turned off the stove before opening the door just to be sure.”

you reach out to pat his head, a teasing smile on your lips, “good job, sae!”

he scoffs, a soft blush dusts his ears. “you make it sound like you’re praising a dog.”

you huff, “stop complaining when you’re getting praised.”

“whatever.” sae pouts, brows knitting, “when are you giving me my gift?”

“so impatient ,” you tsk, shaking your head, “let me in first, i don’t wanna stand in the hallway any longer.”

he grabs your arm and pulls you close to him, kicking the door closed. you bump into his chest, eyes widening as heat rushes to your ears.

the first thing that pops into your mind is that he smells nice. there’s a hint of a burnt scent that clings to him, but he still smells nice. (you note that he feels warm too. it makes you feel warm.)

you feel a slight pressure against your brows. it makes you blink as you slowly snap out of your stupor.

“you good?” your eyes meet sae’s worried ones. he leans in closer to you, scanning your face. you awkwardly nod.

his brows furrow. “are you sure? you zoned out for a bit. are your classes stressing you out too much?”

you shake your head, slightly leaning away from him. your lips press into a fine line. sae’s eyes narrow as he scans your face. he steps back, his hands resting on your shoulders. the spatula lightly digs into your skin.

“is it that guy again?” he tightens his grip, making you wince when the spatula presses harder against your skin, “is he still bothering you?”

“i think you scared him away,” you quickly swat his arms away. “i’m fine, though.”

“are you sure?” he sighs when you nod, “why’d you zone out then?”

“i got distracted,” you gnaw on your bottom lip.

his expression morphs to confusion, “with what?”

your eyes widen slightly. you don’t want to tell him he’s the reason you zoned out. so, you settle for the only thing that comes to mind, “the smell of something burning. are you sure you turned off the stove?”

“yes.” he groans in annoyance. there’s a small pause. sae turns around, tugging you into the kitchen with him.

“look!” he points at the stove, “it’s off. stop making me second-guess myself.”

an amused smile blooms on your face, “i can’t believe you had to come check if you actually turned it off.”

“i can’t believe you actually haven’t given me my gift yet,” he scoffs, pouting.

you laugh, reaching out to flick his forehead. “patience is a virtue, sae. it’d do you well to have it.”

“whatever.” he tries to grab the bag from your hands. “just give it to me already.”

you smile, pulling out the chocolate bar from the bag. laughter bubbles in your chest when you see his stunned expression.

“chocolate?” he glares at the bar in your hand, “do you know how unhealthy that is for me?”

“if you don’t want it i’ll just keep it, then.” you nonchalantly shrug.

he snatches it out of your grasp. “i never said i didn’t want it.”

his eyes twinkle when he unwraps it. he glances up at you, “do you want a bite?”

“just a small one,” you reach out to grab the bar.

sae moves the chocolate out of your reach, “open your mouth.”

you blink, tilting your head in confusion. he sighs, “i’ll feed it to you. i need to make sure you don’t bite off half of the bar.”

“do you trust me so little?” you scoff, crossing your arms. still, you open your mouth, heat rushing to your ears when sae tells you to take a bite.

“is it good?” he stares at you, taking a bite of the chocolate when you nod.

you both swallow at the same time, a smile lighting up your face. “i think you deserve another reward for sharing.”

his brows raise in intrigue, “another? gosh, you’re really spoiling me today, aren’t you?”

you take the pack of stickers out of the back, waving it in front of him. he gives you an unamused look.

“i bought these for whenever you do something nice,” you place a sticker on his cheek.

“that’s stupid,” he frowns.

“shut up, you look cute.” you pinch his other cheek.

he clicks his tongue, “whatever. now get out of my kitchen i need to continue making dinner.”

laughter spills out of your mouth when he pushes you into the living room. “do you want me to help?”

“no.” he huffs, “i can do it myself. now go relax or something, i’ll come get you when dinner’s ready.”

“are you sure you’ll be fine on your own?” you snicker, “i’d hate to have to evacuate the building.”

he lightly smacks your shoulder, “i can cook by myself!”

“sae–”

“just let me cook something for you this once,” he mutters.

a soft, defeated sigh leaves your lips, “okay.”

“i’ll let you cook alone,” you smile, “just this once, though. i can’t leave you unsupervised for too long.”

he hums, patting your head before heading back to the kitchen. a small smile lingers on your lips as you make your way to the couch, turning on the tv.

it doesn’t take long for sae to walk over, two plates in his hands, and a self-satisfied smile on his lips.

you’d be lying if you said the meal was good. it was slightly charred, and a little too salty. you’re sure you would’ve managed to turn it into something decent if he’d let you help.

still, as bad as the food was, you can’t help but eat it with a smile on your face, a warm, fuzzy feeling tugging at your heart.

sae groans in annoyance when you place another sticker on his forehead. (your heart leaps when you notice the soft flush to his cheeks.)

he lets you help him wash the dishes, complaining when you flick soapy water in his direction. laughter fills the apartment when he flicks water back at you. time seemingly slowing down to let you savor the moment just a little longer before you head back to your room.

you drift off to sleep with a smile on your face. your heart drums against your chest when you recall the smile on sae’s face.

(you wish he’d smile at you more often.)

you’ve discovered sae is much better at cleaning than he is at cooking. you’ve also discovered that he’s more thoughtful than he lets on.

he tends to clean the apartment while you’re in class. he claims it’s because he absolutely must practice cleaning in order to get better. (you don’t believe him.) he swears he ensures the apartment’s clean by the time you get home because he can’t stand your nagging. (you still don’t believe him.)

it’s why you’ve had to go out and buy more stickers to reward him with. it’s also why you’re a little surprised to see him still mopping the apartment when you get back.

you take your shoes off, quickly putting on your slippers. “you’re still cleaning?”

“i’m almost done,” he hums, “practice ended a little later today.”

you make your way to the couch, careful not to slip on the floor, “why? is there a match soon?”

“there’s one tomorrow,” he turns to look at you, frowning when he sees you pull out a pack of stickers with a teasing smile on your face. (he still makes his way over to you when you tell him to come closer despite knowing your intention.) he watches you place the sticker on his shirt, a concentrated look in your eyes.

he sticks his tongue out at you when you look up at him with a satisfied grin. sae rests his hand on top of your head. “wanna come watch?”

you tilt your head to the side, “i’m not a big football fan.”

he playfully shakes your head, brows knitting, “have you ever even been to a football match?”

“no,” you pry his hand off your head, “but i don’t really see the point of going when i know i’ll get bored.”

he rolls his eyes, “you won’t.”

“how do you know?” you lean closer to him, raising a brow, a playful grin on your lips.

he leans closer to you, nose playfully scrunching, “because i’m going to be playing.”

your face scrunches up in mock disgust, “you’re making me not want to go even more.”

he teasingly clutches his heart in faux pain, a smile on his lips as he tries to hold back his laughter, “you’re so mean. you’re hurting me right now.”

“are you trying to make me feel bad?” you bite back a smile, fondly rolling your eyes. “because it’s totally working.”

“your sarcasm wounds me,” he frowns, shaking his head. “i can’t believe my roommate won’t support me at my match.”

you punch his arm, “keep this up and you won’t be eating any dinner.”

“fuck,” a hearty laugh escapes his lips, “when’d you get so mean?”

“i learned from the best,” you stick your tongue out at him. a soft laugh leaves your lips when sae scoffs, looking away.

“are you really not going to go see the match?” he turns to you, pouting. you hate when he uses that little pout to guilt you. (you hate that you fall for it even more.)

you sigh, slumping against the couch, “i’ll think about it.”

“just give me an actual answer, damn.” he taps your forehead, “are you going, yes or no?”

a teasing smile creeps up your lips, “maybe.”

you laugh when he calls out your name in annoyance. he groans, glaring at you, “i hate you.”

“no you don’t,” you smile at him, “if you did you wouldn’t have asked me to go see you play tomorrow.”

his face flushes in embarrassment. “you’re not even going anyway!”

you rest your head on your hand, “i am, though.”

he stares at you, unimpressed. there’s a beat of silence before he huffs, the corners of his lips quirking up, “i really can’t stand you sometimes.”

“it’s not my fault you’re fun to tease!” you laugh. he flips you off before turning around to continue mopping. you sigh, stretching your arms up. a couple of seconds go by before you get up to make your way to the kitchen.

“where are you going?”

“the kitchen,” you hum, turning around to look at sae. your ears burn when your eyes meet his. you wish you knew what goes on in his head when he stares at you so intensely. you wish you knew if he even knows he’s staring at you so intently. a small, awkward cough leaves your lips, “i wanted to get started on dinner.”

“you’re not even going to wait for me?” you fiddle with the hem of your shirt at his teasing tone.

sometimes you wonder if he knows how domestic your dynamic has become. if he’s aware that people have started associating him with you, and vice versa. if he’s aware of the effect his words have on you. (you really wish you could take a peek inside his mind.)

“you’d just get in my way,” you tsk, “besides i wanna finish quickly, my head hurts a little.”

he quickly walks over to you, dragging the mop behind him, “have you taken any medicine?”

“i’m fine,” you wave off the hand he placed on your forehead, “it’s probably because i’m hungry.”

“are you sure?” your heart pounds against your chest at his concern.

you give him a reassuring smile, “i’m sure. if it still hurts before i go to bed i’ll take some medicine.”

“fine.” he huffs, lips pursing, “but if you still feel bad tomorrow, promise you’ll let me know.”

you feel your heart squeeze. you gnaw on your bottom lip, twisting the hem of your shirt with your hands.

“i promise.” your voice is barely above a whisper, it’s just loud enough for him to hear.

he smiles, patting your head, “don’t push yourself too hard, ok?”

sae turns around. you stare at his back, his name tumbling out of your lips before you can stop yourself. he turns around with a curious hum.

you feel like your heart rests on your throat. he patiently waits for you to continue. heat rushes to your ears and you wipe your hands against your shirt. “i also promise i’ll go see your match.”

the smile that lights up his face makes you wish it was tomorrow already. you want to go. (because you like seeing him smile.) you want to go see his match. (because it’ll make him happy.)

you want to see him do his favorite thing in the world. you want to share that happiness with him, despite not caring much for the sport. (because you think it’ll make him happy to see you there, even if he doesn’t say it. you want to be the reason he feels genuine happiness.)

you’re not there.

it’s the first thing sae notices when he looks at the stands. it’s what he keeps noticing whenever he turns to look at the stands throughout the match. when they reach halftime and you’re still not there, so he texts you. the second half starts and you’re still not there.

the game ends and you never showed up. his brows knit when he checks his phone only to find out you never even read his messages. concern carves itself into him.

he makes his way back to the apartment as quickly as he can, secretly hoping that nothing bad happened to you.

his heart beats faster, anxiety seeping into him when he opens the door and he doesn’t see your figure on the couch.

sae hastily kicks his shoes off, dropping his duffel bag somewhere on the floor. he lets out a deep breath when he stands in front of your door, quickly knocking.

a couple of seconds go by before he knocks again, frowning when there’s no reply. he quietly opens the door, mentally apologizing. his eyes quickly scan the room for you. there’s a lump in his throat when he sees something stir under your bed sheets.

he quietly walks over to your bed, slowly lowering your comforter. his chest tightens, brows knitting with worry when he sees your face twisted in pain, a slight sheen of sweat on your forehead. he grabs a tissue from your nightstand, gingerly wiping the sweat away.

he sharply inhales when you stir under his touch. sae stares at you as you slowly open your eyes. his eyes fill with concern when he notices how heavy, and unfocused yours look.

he presses the back of his hand against your forehead, brows furrowing even more, “gosh, you’re burning up.”

“sae?” he can barely hear your voice. “why’re you here?”

he clicks his tongue, wiping more sweat off your forehead.

“what about the match?” you blearily look at him, voice laced with soft concern. you try to keep your eyes open when he heads out, grogginess catching up to you when he returns with a bowl in his hands, a hand towel over his shoulder.

he dampens the towel, wringing out the excess onto the bowl. sae gently presses it against your forehead, “have you had a fever all day long?”

“did i miss it?” his heart aches at how choked up your voice sounds.

“i thought i told you to tell me if you weren’t feeling alright, dumbass,” he nags, carefully lifting your head up to prop another pillow under it.

“‘m sorry.” your eyes fill with tears, a pout tugging at your lips. he gently adjusts the towel against your skin.

“don’t apologize,” he softly tsks, “worry about getting better, not about missing the game, idiot.”

he panics when a tear rolls down your cheek, hastily brushing it away. his heart squeezes in pain when more tears freely roll down your cheeks.

“i didn’t,” you sniffle, “didn’t wanna miss the game.”

he shushes you, grabbing another tissue to wipe your tears away. “it’s fine.”

“‘s not,” your breath quickens, brows knitting in sadness, “i promised.”

he firmly calls out your name, “it’s not your fault.”

“i promised,” you hiccup. sae frowns, reaching out to remove the towel from your forehead, pouting when he notices you’re still burning up. he quickly dampens it again before resting it against your skin once more.

“i’ll go get you some medicine,” he whispers, turning around to exit your room.

sae stops in his tracks when he feels something weakly tug at his fingers. he turns to look at you, sucking in a shaky breath when he sees you holding on to him.

“don’t leave.” you weakly try to pull him closer.

there’s a slight flicker of hope in him that tells him you’re aware of what you’re doing despite your raging fever. but he quickly extinguishes it by reminding himself that you probably think you’re dreaming. (because there’s no way you’d tell him to stay with you otherwise, he’s sure of it.)

“i have to get you some medicine,” he mutters. still, he makes no attempt to free his hand from yours.

“stay.” he wants to. he wants to stay with you more than anything. but he needs to get you something to relieve your fever.

he sits on your bed, readjusting your grip on his hand, “i need to go get your medicine.”

he gingerly readjusts the towel on your forehead, slightly smiling at you. his heart pangs with worry when he notices how clammy your hands are.

sae’s eyes widen when you lift yourself up, wrapping your arms around his neck. the towel on your forehead drops into his lap. he feels you rest your head on his shoulders, frowning at the heat emanating from you. (still, he wraps his arms around you so you don’t fall.)

his worried eyes meet your hazy ones when you slowly lift your head to look at him, a sleepy smile on your lips.

“so stubborn,” your hands cup his cheeks.

sae freezes when he feels your lips press against his. his heart beats faster, blush spreading through his face like wildfire.

a sharp inhale leaves his lips when he feels your hands drop from his cheeks, your body tilting back. he cups the back of your head before it hits the pillow.

his eyes scan your face. he lowers his head when he feels your feeble grip on his jacket. his eyes flicker to yours when you weakly tug him closer in an attempt to press his lips against yours again.

he slowly lifts your head up, a soft huff of laughter slipping past his lips when a glimmer of anticipation flashes through your eyes. he presses his lips against yours in a short peck, a startled noise leaving his mouth when you pull him back in.

his face heats up more and more every time you chase after his lips when he pulls away for air. he pants when you pull away, trying to catch your breath. he rests his forehead against yours, his breath fanning against your lips.

you softly call out his name. butterflies erupt in his stomach. he really hopes you know you’re not dreaming.

his arm tightens against you, the hand resting on the back of your head gently tilting it to the side. he doesn’t think twice before pressing his lips against yours again, a content sigh escaping him when you melt under his touch.

he presses his lips against yours over and over again, gently lowering you back onto the bed. your kisses feel like they’re the very air he breathes. like he’ll suffocate if he’s apart from you for more than a second.

sae kisses you silly until he feels your grip against his jacket soften. he pulls away, panting, face ablaze, eyes looking at your sleeping face with a softness that is so unlike him.

he carefully removes your hands from him, lifting your comforter to tuck you into bed. a smile lingers on his lips as he places the towel on your forehead again.

he quietly makes his way out of your room, pressing the pads of his fingers against his lips. his heart feels like it wants to jump out of his chest. a deep sigh leaves his lips. he makes his way to the front door, quickly putting on his shoes to go buy your medicine.

sae really hopes you get better soon. (he wants to kiss you again, and he wants to be sure you’ll remember it properly.)

if you thought sae was a bad student, he’s an even worse patient. he is the most uncooperative sick person you’ve ever met in your life.

you suppose it’s only fair to put up with him since he took care of you while you were sick. (even if it makes you want to knock him unconscious.)

still, it never fails to make your blood boil when you find him wobbling around the living room with a broom in his hands.

“would it kill you to stay in bed?” you stomp over to him, prying the broom off his hands before propping it against the wall.

he blearily looks at you, pouting. he sniffles, “yes.”

you frown, grabbing his hand and dragging him to his room. he glares at you when you force him to lay down on his bed.

“stay here while i get your medicine,” you point at him, glaring back. “or i’ll suffocate you with a pillow until you fall asleep.”

“you can’t be rude to me while i’m sick!” he angrily crosses his arms, scoffing.

it’s still surprising that he’s still in bed when you get back. it’s even more surprising that he’s staring at the door, his face lighting up when you enter.

his nose scrunches up in disgust when he sees the cough syrup in your hands. he burrows himself in his comforter, turning his head away from you.

“sae.” you gently call out, sitting next to him. a small smile blooms on your lips when he slowly turns to look at you. “you know you have to take your medicine to get better, right?”

“if i take my medicine,” he sneezes, “will you give me a reward?”

“yeah, sure, i’ll give you a sticker.” you absentmindedly hum, uncapping the syrup.

“no,” he shakes his head, “i want another reward.”

your brows raise in confusion, your turn your attention to him. “what kind of reward?”

he smiles, lifting a hand to tap his lips and then tapping yours. your face heats up, jaw dropping. you gently swat his hand away, pouting. “you shouldn’t tease like that.”

“‘m not,” he sticks his tongue out at you, “i want another kiss.”

“another?” you blink in surprise. your eyes widen slightly when a cheeky smile creeps up his lips.

“you kissed me when you were sick,” he snickers, nose scrunching up when you force the syrup into his mouth.

“no i didn’t,” you frown. he forces himself to swallow the cough syrup, a choked gasp leaving his lips.

“you don’t remember?” he whines, sniffling when you shake your head.

you feel a pang in your heart when sae looks at you, eyes swimming with sadness. “‘m sorry, sae.”

“‘s fine,” he playfully smiles, “i’ll just have to make up for it later.”

heat spreads through your face. a pout tugs at your lips, “don’t say stuff like that. i might take you seriously.”

“i’m being serious,” he sniffles, “wanna kiss you again.”

you shyly stare at him, shrinking into yourself. you suppose being sick must’ve made him bolder. or maybe he just wants to get back at you. but you have to admit it gives you the perfect excuse to make him stop being so difficult.

“i’ll kiss you if you stop complaining about taking your medicine,” you quietly huff, fingers playing with your shirt.

your ears feel like they’re on fire when his face lights up. “but only when you get better! i don’t wanna get sick again.”

he nods, a satisfied grin blooming on his lips. “sounds good to me.”

there’s a beat of silence before you stand up. sae’s eyes widen, “where are you going?”

“i’m gonna go make you some soup,” you hum, “you should sleep while i’m gone.”

sae pouts, “‘m not tired.”

“that’s too bad, then,” you stick your tongue out at him. he clicks his tongue.

“i’ll be back soon,” you pat his head. he huffs, pouting.

you barely take a step forward, yelping when you feel something yank you back. your brows knit in annoyance when you feel sae wrapping his arms around you.

“sae.”

“‘m only going to sleep if you stay with me.” he mutters.

an amused smile tugs at your lips. you’re starting to think he’s cute when he’s sick. a little clingy, but cute. (you also think you might indulge him just this once.)

“fine,” you sigh. “but i’m leaving as soon as you fall asleep.”

you don’t.

you’re not sure exactly when you fell asleep, but you’re sure it wasn’t dark outside when sae pulled you towards him. part of you wants to stay with him, just to let him sleep longer. but you also know you need to make him some soup.

so, you gently try to pry yourself off of him. a soft groan leaves your lips when his arms tighten around you.

his name tumbles out of your mouth. “i have to go make your soup.”

“‘m coming with you.” his voice sounds hoarse. (his nose sounds stuffy, too.)

“sae,” you try to pry his arms off, “you need to rest.”

“‘m going with you.” he huffs, “there’s nothing you can say to make me not join you.”

you begrudgingly decide to indulge him again. which is why he’s slumped over your shoulder as you make your way to the kitchen. it’s why he’s holding onto your waist, burrowing his face in your neck as you move around the kitchen.

(it’s why your face feels like it’s on fire when he nuzzles closer to you, smiling.)

and you think that maybe him being a little too clingy isn’t that bad.

when a girl in your class asks you what sae is to you, you’re not sure what to say.

you could say he’s your roommate, like you used to. but you don’t think he’d make himself extremely comfortable in your personal space if he was just your roommate. you could also say he’s your friend (much to everyone’s surprise.) but you’re not sure if he’d be so obsessed with kissing you whenever you’re both home if he was just your friend.

(still, he’s not exactly your boyfriend, either. you’re not sure what he is. neither of you have brought it up before.)

either way, she wouldn’t be satisfied with the answer you give her. at least, that’s what you think with the way she glowers at you.

so, you just say he’s nothing. (which is a lie. but she doesn’t need to know that.)

the result is what you expected, some angry huffing and empty warnings to stay away from sae. (not that it’d work seeing how you live with him.) except, things take a turn for the worse when your phone screen lights up, displaying sae’s name on it while it rings on the table.

a pained expression flashes through your face when she clears her throat. you tilt your head up to look at her, an awkward, tense smile on your lips.

“i thought you said he was nothing to you?” she scoffs.

“he is.” you internally curse how fast you replied. you hope she didn’t notice.

she rolls her eyes, “then why do you have his contact saved with a star on your phone?”

you blink, your lips pressing into a fine line. “because he’s a star?”

she doesn’t look convinced. (neither are you.) a loud, annoyed groan leaves her lips as she looks you up and down, crossing her arms.

“listen here, idiot,” she glares at you. anger flashes in her eyes when your phone rings again. “i don’t know who you think you are–”

(you don’t know who she thinks she is, but with the way she seems to be unaware that you literally live with sae, you assume she must be some clueless freshman who happened to go to one of the football matches, saw sae, and became one of his many fans.)

“–but if you even consider the idea that sae might be into you–”

(you don’t even have to consider the idea, it pretty much solidified itself as a fact given with the way he kisses you until both of you are struggling to catch your breath whenever you two are alone.)

“–then you’ve got another thing coming,” she grabs your wrist, digging her nails into your skin. “i don’t know how someone like you got his number, but he doesn’t need freaks like you bothering him.”

she looks at you with contempt, “so stay away from him, or else–”

“or else what?”

you both turn your heads to the door. her grip on your wrist loosens. you bite back a laugh when she removes her hand, shyly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“sae,” she takes a step closer to him. you hide your smile behind your hand when you see his clearly annoyed and disgusted expression. (you note he looks disheveled. you also notice his duffel bag slung over his shoulders.)

“or else what?” you snort at the clear anger in his voice. he glares at her, crossing his arms. she shrinks into herself, clearly nervous.

“i was just trying to keep this freak away from you,” she plays with her hair. you feel embarrassed for her when she continues, “you shouldn’t have to deal with–”

“who the fuck even are you anyway?” he cuts her off, scowling.

her eyes light up, “i’m–”

“leaving? i sure fucking hope so.” he scoffs, walking over to you. his face softens when he looks at you.

sae extends his hand out to you, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips when you slip your hand into his. he reaches out for your backpack, quickly shrugging it on his shoulder before you can protest.

“i thought you were one of the first people out of class,” he hums, lacing his fingers with yours.

your eyes flicker to the girl, who is still standing next to the table, face flushed in embarrassment. “i got held up.”

sae glances in her direction, scoffing in annoyance. “you’re still here?”

you can’t help but feel a little bad for her when her eyes well up with tears of embarrassment, her hands bunching up her skirt. “i thought–”

“you thought wrong,” he clicks his tongue, “now get lost.”

her eyes snap to yours, anger replacing the embarrassment, “i thought you said he was nothing to you!”

sae gasps, looking at you, hurt written all over his face. you look away, biting the inside of your cheek. he calls out your name, “why’d you say that?”

“i didn’t know what else to say,” you mumble.

“say i’m your boyfriend!,” he huffs. “or do you not want to say that?”

heat floods your face. you hide your face in sae’s back when you hear choked sobs. you tug at his jacket, “can we just go home already?”

you take a peek at the girl from behind sae’s shoulder. “i don’t want to talk about this here.”

“fine,” he mutters, “but this conversation is not over.”

he drags you out of the classroom. you don’t look back, but you gnaw your bottom lip when you hear muffled sobs coming from behind you.

you both walk in silence for a bit. a small smile blooms on your lips when sae slows down his pace to match yours.

“i’m surprised you didn’t tell her off.” he hums.

“you got there before i could,” you fondly shake your head, “i would’ve loved giving her a piece of my mind.”

a soft laugh leaves his lips, “i’m sure you’ll find another occasion to do so.”

the walk home feels quicker than usual. you suppose it’s because sae’s actually with you instead of over the phone.

you’re barely past the door to your apartment when sae wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. he relaxes when you wrap your arms around him.

“if someone asks you what i am to you,” he nuzzles his face into your neck, “just tell them i’m your boyfriend.”

“are you sure?” your hands clench around his jacket.

he pulls back slightly to look at you, confusion written all over his face. “yeah? am i not your boyfriend already?”

“i don’t know?” your brows knit in confusion.

“i thought it was clear?” he blinks. “it wasn’t clear to you?”

“i don’t think i would’ve been threatened by one of your fangirls if it was clear,” you deadpan.

“oh.” he presses his lips into a fine line. “well, now you know.”

your jaw drops, “you’re not even going to ask if i want you to be my boyfriend?”

“i think it’s safe to say we’re well past asking,” he stares at you.

“still,” you pout, “it’d be nice if you did.”

“what, are you going to give me a sticker if i do?” he scoffs.

“i was gonna give you a kiss, but if you don’t wanna ask, then–”

“would you let me be your boyfriend?”

laughter spills out of your lips, “you didn’t even let me finish!”

“just answer my question.” he smiles. “and hurry it up too, i have to clean.”

you playfully shake your head, “so demanding. but, i suppose you can be my boyfriend.”

sae’s lips are on yours as soon as the words leave your mouth. you gasp in surprise when he nips at your lower lip.

you’re not sure how long he kisses you for, but you feel dizzy when you pull away. you angle your head away from his when he chases after your lips again.

“i thought,” you pant, “thought you said you had to clean.”

“it can wait.” he breathes out.

“i have to cook.”

he angles your head back to face him, “it can wait.”

“but–”

he calls out your name with a smile, “it can all wait. just let me kiss you again.”

“okay.” you smile when he tilts your head towards his.

you think you’re starting to understand sae’s obsession with kissing you.

when you think of itoshi sae, the first thing that comes to mind is: boyfriend. you’re not sure if you’re ever going to get used to calling him that. you’ve told him it still sounds weird, he simply says it sounds perfect.

you’re also not sure you’ll ever get used to the many pairs of eyes staring holes into the back of your head. (you blame sae for insisting you wear his spare jersey to his games.)

still, you suppose you could put up with all the staring if it means you get to see sae play.

(even if it means you have to endure his showing off for the next hour.)

“did you see how great i was out there?” he puffs out his chest.

“you were the best!” you smile when he laces his fingers with yours. “i think you deserve a reward.”

you bite back a laugh when his head turns to look at you, eyes twinkling with anticipation. “close your eyes.”

you can practically feel the excitement rolling off of him as he closes his eyes. you let go of his hand, snickering when his brows furrow. you quickly reach into your bag, pulling out the sticker sheet you stashed in there.

a laugh leaves your lips when you gingerly place a star sticker on sae’s cheek. “you can open your eyes now.”

you heartily laugh when sae touches his cheek, glaring at you when he feels the outline of a star. he huffs, “you’re the worst.”

“shut up, you love them.” you flick his forehead.

he tsks, poking your nose. “when you said i deserved a reward, i thought you meant a kiss.”

“i can kiss you if you want.” you cheekily smile at him. he huffs, crossing his arms.

he turns his head away from you, “you ruined the moment with those stupid, lukewarm stickers.”

“you say that as if you don’t stick them against your mirror.” you stick your tongue out at him, the corners of your lips lifting into a smile when his cheeks flush.

“i hate you,” he frowns, looking at you.

“no you don’t,” you peck his cheek.

“whatever,” he grumbles, “let’s just go home already.”

you laugh when he grabs your hand, tugging you in the direction of your apartment. (you don’t mention the smile on his lips.)

“i’m going to cook today,” he laughs when you groan in disgust. “i’ve gotten better!”

“yeah, right.” you quip. “i think it’d be better if you clean while i cook.”

“what if we cook together?” he hums.

“you’ll just get in my way.” you smile, laughing when he shakes your arm.

“what if we go out to eat?” he shrugs nonchalantly. (you still notice the flush on his ears.)

“itoshi sae!” you gasp dramatically, “are you asking me out on a date?”

he scoffs, cheeks turning bright red. “don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“i’d be honored to go out with the itoshi sae,” your voice drips with mischief. a soft gasp leaves your lips when he tugs you to him, wrapping his arms around you.

“i think it’s me who’s honored to go out with you,” he mumbles. you hug him back, nuzzling into him.

“we still need to head home, though,” he pulls away, “i want to take a shower.”

“want me to join you?” you laugh when you see his scandalized expression.

“you’re so shameless!” he bites back a laugh, hiding his face behind his hands.

“oh, please, like we haven’t showered together before.” you playfully scrunch your nose.

he clicks his tongue, “as tempting as it sounds, i really would like to go eat early today.”

you fondly roll your eyes, tugging him towards your apartment. “fine.”

“but i’m not opposed to taking a shower with you when we get back.” he bites back a smile when you smack his shoulder.

the walk home is filled with laughter, teasing smiles on both of your faces. and, for once, you’re glad to have an opinion of sae.

(especially because it’s based on the version of your sae, and not the one everyone else thinks he is.)

#i fear i am NEVER GOING TO BE FREE #OH I AM SO ILL #i fear i can no longer be set free #i fear ive cemented my legacy as a sae lover #bllk x reader #sae x reader #sae x you #bllk itoshi sae #itoshi sae x you #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae #bllk sae #bllk x you #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #bllk fluff #blue lock fluff #blue lock sae

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icallhimjoey · 2 months

Text

Explain Us

♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: So, more than flatmates... but, what exactly? Would be fantastic if you would just, you know, talk about it. But communicating is not your strong suit and you're extremely certain that it's fine. Confusing and vague, but, fine.

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, a continuation of define close, no need to read it to enjoy this, though it will help! 18+ smut

Author’s note: there's an attempt at communication! hurray!

Wordcount: 3.2K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Shittest night of sleep ever? Yea. Shittest night of sleep ever.

It could not be true that in this short amount of time you no longer were able to fall asleep on your own like a normal person. That you needed another body next to you in order to let it catch you and drag you under.

But you’d barely slept. And the sleep that you did get was of the lightest variety, which barely even counted as sleep, you thought.

You had half expected maybe to wake up in Joe’s bed in the morning. Weirdly hoped that you would’ve sleepwalked right over into his room when you subconsciously heard him come home.

You had also half secretly wished that Joe would’ve made his way over and snuck into your bed upon finding his own cold and empty.

Neither happened.

Which was actually devastating.

But you had to pretend it wasn’t.

You were just flatmates, remember?

So you woke up in your own bed the same way you’d gone to sleep; by yourself, all alone, tired as fuck, and being stared at by Joe’s little plant.

Joe’s little plant that, deep sigh, desperately needed watering.

With a low grumble stuck in the back of your throat, you got up and out of bed and went to feed that little plant. Meanly whispered, “You don’t even belong here.” to it as you poured some water from the cup that held your toothbrush in your ensuite.

You immediately felt bad for it, and followed it up with a soft, “No, I’m sorry, you do. I just haven’t slept well. Sorry.”

Idiot.

Talking to a plant.

You needed some coffee.

Joe’s bedroom door was closed, which checked out, he was probably sleeping off a hangover. But halfway through breakfast, you heard the front door open and frowned in confusion. Your mind shot over who the fuck that could be besides Joe. Who else had a key beside both your mums?

But then, a sweaty, wet, rosy-cheeked Joe walked in, all out of breath, already pulling his T-shirt over his head that he then used to rub at his curls before pushing them back.

You nearly chocked on your bite of toast.

Joe smiled, still panting, and leant both arms on the island right next to you. Bent all the way down to do some stretching, and then stood up, only to lean over and take a bite from the piece of toast you were still holding.

If you’d have been more alert, you’d have moved it out of his way.

But, clearly, you were not more alert.

Not your fault, though. Clearly.

“Morning,” he grinned, breathing through flared nostrils as he chewed.

You comically blinked and checked your wrist that didn’t hold a watch for the time.

“What the... are you still drunk?”

Joe laughed as he opened the fridge, fishing out something to drink. He found a bottle of water and you watched him closely as he gulped some of it down.

“What time did you even get in?”

“Not that late,” Joe shrugged, “Two-ish, I think?”

You saw how he eyed the breakfast you were still holding, and yea, you weren’t that hungry anyway. You dropped whatever there was left onto your plate and slid it across. Joe happily went for the scraps.

“And already all alert and awake at,” you tapped your phone to actually check the time and grimaced. “Oh, never mind.”

It was nearing in on half 9.

Felt much earlier. Probably because you’d barely slept.

“You should try it,” Joe said, eyes on what he was about to shove into his mouth, all casual, like he wasn’t half naked and shiny with his own sweat. Wet curls trying to creep onto his forehead like their life depended on it. Cheeks all red and blotchy. “Come running with me sometime. Really makes you feel useful first thing.”

You scoffed at him despite how good he looked.

Shit. He looked so good.

But Joe had said that like you didn’t get up early to go to work five days a week. Like you didn’t leave him in his bed only to turn over and go back to sleep once you’d left.

“Um, I’ve been useful plenty, mind you.”

“Oh yea?”

“Watered your plant first thing.”

“My plant?”

“Your plant.”

Joe’s eyes scanned you for a second, and you almost grew shy.

“It’s in your room.”

And with that, Joe rounded the island and bent to push his face into your neck where he left a wet raspberry that made you squeal before he left for a shower.

You didn’t talk about how you’d slept in separate beds for the first time in ages. You didn’t mention how your arm had reached across several times in search of him, and how you’d felt stupid for it every single time you remembered he wasn’t there.

At least breakfast hadn’t been awkward.

He was insane for walking in like a wet dream, sure. But it was ultimately all fine.

And it wasn’t like you ever talked about anything ever before. If anything, this was as normal as it had ever been between the two of you.

So you went about your day. Had many important activities to do. All crucial business. Almost too much for just one girl, but you know, you were a real go getter.

You moved the little plant from your dresser to your windowsill where it would get some actual sunlight, and then fell asleep on the sofa to some bad TV.

Like you’d said; crucial business.

The evening came around fast, and after your shower, you found yourself sat on the floor by the foot of your bed. Your nose stung from the open bottle of nail polish remover by your feet, and you felt how it dried the absolute shit out of the skin of your toes as you’d forgotten to get the acetone free kind.

Across the hall you could hear Joe brush his teeth in the bathroom, and you silently prepared yourself for another night of shitty sleep.

You didn’t know if you could muster up a stupid excuse to sneak into his bed tonight, and after sleeping apart, it felt like there was a new threshold in place. One that was too high. If Joe wasn’t going to invite you over, you probably wouldn’t.

You’d moved onto your second foot when you heard footsteps coming closer, and then Joe appeared in the doorway to your bedroom.

Obviously, you immediately noticed him.

Didn’t mean that you also had to immediately acknowledge him, though.

You kept eyes on the task at hand, using a thumb to really push down on a cotton round that tinted pinker with every swipe.

Joe just stood there, leant against the side and you tried to imagine what Joe was looking at. You were sat on your rug like a dirty little gremlin, inhaling chemical fumes that would leave you loopy if you didn’t close that bottle soon.

You eventually cracked and went, “What?” without looking up.

You could feel Joe smile.

“Looks good there, in the window.” he commented, and that did make you look up, finally. You followed Joe’s gaze and turned to look at his crispy wave that you’d placed there.

You knew Joe was just making conversation, but you didn’t really know what to say. For a moment, it was quiet and you both just... look at the plant.

Then, you let your filter drop a second and surprised yourself when you said, “We got caught yesterday.”

You said it before you looked at him, and you were glad for it. When you did turn your head his way, he was already frowning in confusion. You were glad you hadn’t seen him go from a cheeky smile into that muddled glower.

“What do you mean?”

“I told her. Had to, tell her. She asked.”

You didn’t even say what you told her. You trusted he’d get it. So many things went unsaid with you, surely, this could be one of them.

You were right, because in true flatmate fashion, Joe didn’t ask.

Instead, you watched his face change back into a soft amusement as he lowly chuckled to himself. Looked down at his bare feet. Nodded and sighed. Visibly dropped his shoulders.

You didn’t understand what was funny.

But you also didn’t ask.

And then, Joe turned and just... left. Walked back over to his own bedroom.

What the fuck did that mean?

You should’ve just asked.

You didn’t. Of course.

You had a task to do. Two of your toenails were still red. And the skin of your fingers was starting to stain now too.

You finished up, cleared all your toenails of the chipped polish and kept your ears pricked up. You could hear Joe’s wardrobe doors slide a few times. The clinking of his metal hangers. Things being dropped to the floor.

Weird time for a wardrobe clear-out, but, you kind of got it. You’d just mentioned it for the first time... ever? In front of him. Said you’d spoken to a friend about it. You’d just told Joe you’d talked about something intimate and secret between the two of you that you had never even spoken about to each other. It was at least a little unsettling, wasn’t it?

You remembered the last time you’d gotten weird news at a similar time of day and had decided that you needed to clean the kettle at half 11 on a Thursday.

People coped how they coped.

It was fine.

You double checked if the rug had any pink marks on, were glad to find that it hadn’t even though you hadn’t exactly been very careful, when you heard Joe’s wardrobe doors slide shut.

You paused.

Waited for the noise of him getting into bed.

The rustling of his duvet.

But then he suddenly called, “You coming?” and despite yourself, you smiled. Tried to bite it into your mouth to hide it, but that made it only grow wider.

“One sec!” you called back and hoped that the excitement wasn’t so noticeable through your voice. You quickly went and made your bed, so it looked all tidy. Got rid of the dirty cotton rounds that stank up the whole room and turned off the lights before making your way over to Joe’s room.

There you saw that Joe had neatly stacked all of what was inside of his wardrobe in piles on the floor just outside the wardrobe.

Awful.

Men were messy and awful.

But men also had warm beds they wanted to share, and Joe was holding up his covers so you could go and sneak in, and so you didn’t waste any time. Snuck right in on your respective side of his bed.

And then... it was awkward.

Kind of. Maybe.

You both laid on your backs, arms above the covers, and stared up at the ceiling and... now what?

Why was this suddenly weird?

You could think of a few reasons, but they were nothing to delve into right now.

After a short moment, Joe turned his head to look at you, and so you did too. Looked at him. Saw how he looked at your shoulder. Your arms. Your chest, probably.

"Nice T-shirt."

Oh.

Yea, that was his.

“Looks good on you.”

If the goal was to make you smile, he had succeeded. With flying colours.

But then his face turned serious, and he said, “But you know, it probably would look a lot better on my bedro–”

“Shut the fuck up.”

You’d already rolled your eyes at him before he’d even finished the cheesy pick-up line and stopped him before he got to complete the punchline. It made him laugh, and you were quick to roll yourself half-way over him because how could you not kiss that pretty mouth shut?

And this was it.

This was the answer.

All hints at awkwardness vanished the moment you pressed your lips to his.

The moment Joe’s arms wrapped around you.

The moment he kept you in place with a tight grip, right on top of him.

The moment he let a hand wander to grab at your ass.

The moment he encouraged you to alleviate some pressure over one of his thighs.

When you felt how hard he was.

When you lost all control over your breathing.

Felt how Joe kept holding his, only to release it in shudders every couple of inhales.

You had never had actual sex before. No, wait, you did. What you had seen and felt and tasted of each other already did also count as actual sex. But it had all been hands, fingers, mouths. You'd never let Joe inside with more than his fingers. Twice his tongue.

Joe was just as aware.

He was happy to just make out for a while. Touch your tits. Help you ride his thigh. Have you sneak a hand into his boxers after, to make things wet and sticky inside of the cotton.

You know. Normal flatmate things.

But you kind of wanted more.

You’d never had more, and Joe’s hands were good. His fingers were nice. No complaints at all. But you wanted more.

Joe stilled when you pulled him out of his boxers. Pushed them down a little to reveal all of him.

"Are you–..." Joe whispered, and it was so soft, you could barely hear it over your own breathing.

You were already lining yourself up.

"Wait– are you sure you want– did you– ahmm..." Joe let his head fall back into his pillow and groaned when you used him to rub at yourself. To make yourself feel good a second.

Drove him fucking insane.

You liked that.

Liked how Joe so easily showed you the effect you had on him.

Liked how audible he was when you pressed him there a little harder. Moved him there a little faster. He almost sounded pained.

He started looking more and more like he did that morning when he’d come back from his run.

“Are you sure?” you teasingly asked when you moved him to where he could slip inside with just a simple thrust of his hips.

Joe made eye-contact and you laughed at the deadpan sarcastic glare you got. Of course he was sure, were you fucking joking?

Your laughter died fast as Joe did exactly what you wanted and pushed up, slipping inside.

“Shit.” You moaned.

“Yea, shit.” Joe confirmed.

And yea.

This could be a new flatmate thing.

Sure.

Riding your flatmate was fine.

So normal.

You cuddled on the sofa and had pizza together because it brought the both of you comfort.

And this brought comfort all the same, didn’t it?

Made your legs cramp a bit quicker, sure, but intimacy was intimacy and if you both liked it, then why not?

What was stopping you?

Joe came first.

Gargled, “Oh fuck!” before pulling you up to free himself, and it fucking went everywhere.

His fault, he panted, followed by a quick apology. He shouldn’t have held onto your waist to keep you in place and shouldn’t have started thrusting up into you like a fucking animal, he explained.

You didn’t mind.

Joe coming first didn’t feel like a mistake.

It was actually kind of hot that he got so into it that he couldn’t hold it back any longer. Maybe not the sperm exploding over fucking everything, but you knew Joe didn’t think this flatmate activity was done until you’d orgasmed as well. That was how it had worked up until then, anyway.

You expected him to maybe get his hands in between your legs, and you were already sort of moving into a position to make that easy work for him, but then Joe surprised you when he said, “Go get your toy.”

You froze and looked at him.

“No?” he asked when he saw your face.

“I– What? Have you snooped–... wait. Do not answer that.”

Joe had never snooped. Wasn’t a snooper. He still didn’t know where most the things in your kitchen were kept.

That meant that he’d heard it.

Mortifying.

But there was no time to feel mortified.

Joe nodded his head towards your room, casually said “Go get it, let me play.”

And, okay. Fine.

Joe was allowed to play.

Twice.

Joe got to play twice.

He pushed for a third time, but you had to put your foot down. Had to push his arms away from you pleadingly.

Too much.

Good though.

This was definitely going to be a new flatmate thing. You’d personally see to it. Surely, Joe was on the same page.

You got a kiss to a sweaty temple and were instructed to put that toy back, go for a wee, have a sip of water, and come back to bed.

You did as you were told, body still buzzing when you got back in between his covers where you saw Joe reach for his phone and set an alarm.

Half 6.

“Are you going to get up early to feel ‘useful first thing’ again?” you joked, moving your hair to where it wouldn’t hurt when you lied down on Joe’s pillow.

Joe huffed a laugh and placed his phone on his bedside table before saying, “If I were, would you join me?”

“No.” you simply said as Joe turned around and pulled you closer. “But change it to a walk, and it’s a strong maybe from me.”

Joe cuddled up close and used his nose to push at your cheek until there was enough space there for him to burrow into your neck.

“No, you’re the worst to go on walks with,” he mumbled all close to your ear.

That tickled you, and you giggled as you acted outraged. “What?”

“You have zero spatial awareness,” said the boy who was giving you zero personal space at the moment. “You keep bumping into me every four steps, it’s so annoying.”

You laughed and tried pushing him away, but it only made him burrow deeper.

It was quiet for a second then.

Just his breathing in your ear.

Darkness surrounded you and, shit, it was so nice to have an arm over your waist. A leg pushed in between yours. You never wanted to sleep alone again.

Maybe you could just turn your room into a huge walk-in wardrobe.

Or an office.

Joe could read scripts and practice lines in there, and then this bedroom wouldn’t have clothes all over the floor like it did now.

Maybe you’d talk about it tomorrow.

You felt like you’d made a good attempt at communication today.

Baby steps, you know?

“Well,” you whispered, ready to let yourself drift off into a deep sleep. “Enjoy your run all alone by yourself, then, loser. Good night.”

You felt Joe’s stomach tense with silent laughter as he squeezed you even closer to him. You used a lone finger to trail soft lines up and down the arm that held you. It took mere seconds for you to feel how it gave him goosebumps there.

It was disgusting how you were about to fall asleep with a smile plastered onto your face.

Absolutely vile.

You fucking loved it.

“M’not going for a run,” Joe then replied on the back end of a sigh, of a sleepy satisfied hum, words slightly slurry with how close to falling asleep he already was.

This was the good stuff.

All warm.

All cosy, toasty and so stupidly comfortable.

His face in your neck and your body surrounded by all of his.

Sheer bliss.

“I’m moving tomorrow.”

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @bylermaxmayfield, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn, @dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma77645, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @miserybeans, @munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

#Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #icallhimjoey #define close #explain us

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mannaima · 1 year

Note

Heard you wanted some dark requests for Joel? I have one!

How about Joel with a reader half his age. She’s an orphan growing up in the QZ. A sunshine type that’s always smiling and bright. She ends up striking a friendship with Joel but misses all the signs that he’s becoming infatuated with her because she’s naive. She doesn’t realize that people are terrified to get close to her because Joel’s made it clear he’s staked a claim on her.

One day she tells Joel she’s been asked out on a date. She’s nervous because she’s never gone out with someone and has no idea what to do. It’s not like the schools in the QZ are any good based off or what Ellie’s said. So she goes to her friend to ask him advice about sex. She misses how insanely jealous he’s becoming and how possessive he gets. Eventually he decides to show her, instead of telling her, what sex is like.

The next day she hears that the guy that asked her out is dead. Apparently Joel shot him while on a job as a guard because he showed signs of infection (how convenient). She’s heartbroken over losing him and doesn’t see how satisfied Joel looks. She has no idea he’s obsessed with her and will do whatever it takes to keep her.

Lesson

Summary: You look for advice from a friend, but he uses that to his advantage.

Warnings: NSFW (18+), smut, dub-con(ish), age gap (reader is 20 and joel is 56), joel being possessive, murder (at the end)

Word count: 5K

Summary: I like this! For reference, Ellie will be the same age as the reader, which is 20! Also, this is in a universe where ellie and Joel are in the QZ at an older age (yeah totally not canon but neither is any of this) Btw I didn’t proofread this at alllll so if u see any mistakes ignore it pls.

You had a good day so far, Ellie had invited you out drinking, which you happily accepted! Joel and Ellie had become really good friends, and you always looked forward to seeing them in your life. You had a simple life, go to work, come home, talk with your friends, and go to sleep. You enjoyed the laid back life, which was well deserved after the hell you spent a majority of your life. Though daily life wasn’t easy, it was much better than what you imagined you could’ve been if you had just made one wrong move fighting an infected.

Sadly, it wasn’t very easy to make friends, a lot of people usually stayed away from you. You didn’t understand why, but you at least had Ellie and Joel to be in your life!

“Ellie! Shush!” You both were laughing, you smacking Ellie’s shoulder as she said a dirty joke.

“C’mon! You can't tell me that wasn’t funny!” She knew you too well, Ellie knew just how to make you embarrassed yet shift into a fit of laughter. You took a swig of your drink.

“Well, that might be true… But you can’t say that out loud! God forbid someone heard us talking about that…” You giggled under your breath.

“Talking about what? Say it or I will!” Ellie spoke a little louder.

“Please don’t.” You said, laughing with red cheeks.

“DIC-” You covered her mouth and both laughed to your heart's content. Although you loved Ellie, you admit she could be a little vulgar.

“Ellieee!” You whined “Shushhhh.” She laughed, and you uncovered her mouth.

“What do you know about that anyways, huh?” You mocked her, and she stuck her tongue out at you.

“You’re right, I should be screaming about pussy shouldn’t I?” You both shared a laugh, and she rested her hand on your shoulder,sharing a look. You both took a swig of your drinks.

“Hey Y/N!” Confused, you turned around, only to see a familiar face.

“Oh, hi Xavier!” A big smile grew on his face. Xavier was a friend you had met from work, both bonding over a familiar love for dogs initially, until you both started to talk more frequently at work. He walked over to you and Ellie, his hands nervously rubbing his arm.

“This is my friend, Ellie.” Ellie gave him a wave, and he gave her a smile and wave, his whole demeanor seeming a bit more nervous than usual, very shaky.

“So, um, Y/N…” You smiled, and nodded, letting him continue. “I was wondering, um, If we.. No… I-If I… Fuck…” He stopped and closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath. “I was wondering if you wanted to hang out tomorrow. Like… A date.” Your eyes widened at this, breath hitching. You had never been on a date before, you don’t even think you’ve held a guy's hand before! You looked at Ellie nervously, who had a huge grin on her face, nodding vigorously. You looked back at Xavier, who had a terrified look on his face, before you nodded your head yes.

“O-Of course! That sounds awesome!” Xaviers look of fear was replaced with a huge toothy grin, and nodded.

“Alright, awesome! I’ll pick you up tomorrow night! S-See you!” He promptly turned around, and walked through the other people in the common area. Ellie grabbed your cheek and turned you to face her.

“Y/N!! You just got asked on your very. First. Date!!!!” You both squealed like preteen girls at a sleepover, you couldn’t believe it!

“Oh my god! This is so crazy. What do I wear. What should I do? What if he wants to kiss? What if he wants to…” Your eyes widened to look at Ellie. She laughed and raised her eyebrow.

“What?”

“Ellie… What if he wants to… Have sex…” You whispered the last part, and she laughed and slapped her knee.

“Ellie this is serious!”

“Why are you nervous? You know how that stuff works, right?” She gave you a laugh, before realizing you weren’t laughing.

“Y/N… You aren’t serious, are you?”

“The schools at the QZ sucked, okay! They didn’t want us procreating!”

“Okay but… You seriously don’t know how sex works? You’re twenty years old dude!” You shushed her, trying to quiet her before others could turn their heads to see what you two were going on about.

“It’s not my fault! I just never…Took much thought about it…” You put your head down in embarrassment.

“Hey, hey, Y/N. I’m just teasing. Sorry, I took it too far. But it's not all bad. I could teach you- No wait. I can ask Joel!”

“Joel?” You were confused, Ellie knew just as much as him, why did you need Joel to explain it.

“Joel’s actually got experience with… Y’know. Guy on girl action. So it would make more sense if he taught you, plus, he gave me the birds and bees talk!” You cringed at the thought. That talk was supposed to be given to kids who barely hit puberty, not twenty year olds. You nodded, and twiddled your fingers to try and ease your nerves.

“C’mon, it’s getting late. I’ll drop you off and Joel’s so it won't be as awkward with me there. Cause I’ll probably laugh every time Joel says penis.” You both giggled and walked to Joel’s apartment, the alcohol in your system making you a little less nervous about having ‘the talk’ with Joel.

“Alright Y/N, I’ll see you tomorrow, Good luck!” Ellie hugged you tightly, and did the same. You had barely realized you were already in front of Joel’s apartment. Taking a deep breath, you gave the door a few knocks before stepping back slightly. Hopefully he answered.

After a few seconds of silence, a few clicks were heard before the door opened, revealing a straight faced Joel.

“Hi Joel!” You said, maybe a bit too cheery, before giving him a little wave.

“Hey sweetie. What do you need?” He gave you a small smirk, body leaning out the door frame.

“I- Um. Can I come in?” Joel nodded, and moved to the side, allowing you to walk in. You felt a little nervous to ask him, nervous that he was gonna view you differently.

“What’s on your mind, sweetheart?” You looked up at him, his familiar face making you feel more comfortable, he was just a friend. A friend who could help you.

“So… Basically. Uhm…” You fidgeted around. “A guy… Xavier, asked me out.” You didn’t see the anger in his eyes when you said that. “And I’m super excited! But I’ve never been on a date with someone before. And I’ve never kissed a guy or held his hand or done anything romantic before.” You stopped your ramblings. “I was just wondering if. You could have the…. ‘The talk’ with me…”

“The talk?” Joel raised his eyebrow at you.

“Yeah! You know. Like the birds and the bees?” You nervously giggled, Joel’s expression worrying you. He just stared at you, and you couldn’t read his emotions. It was until he had a small, very awkward, smile on his face.

“Oh, alright. I guess I could tell you.” He walked over to his bed and pat the seat next to him. A wave of relief washed over you as you took the seat next to him, bouncing on the mattress. You looked up at Joel, his eyes staring into yours.

“Alright. So, basically, when two people love each other, they may feel… Hot. Warm. This is called arousal, but most people call it being horny.” You nodded. Taking a mental note of the word.

“And the man’s penis, his private part, gets hard.”

“I know what a penis is, Joel.” You giggled, and he put his hands up in defense.

“Just making sure! Anyways, the man gets hard. And the woman, well, she gets wet.”

“Wet? Like how?” Joel kind of stared at your legs for a little, seeming to debate in his head about a few things. He took a deep sigh and looked at you once more.

“How about I show you?” You gulped, what did he mean by show you?

“What? D-Do you mean like… Do it with me?”

“Yes. It’s better to show you. Plus, I doubt a guy like Xavier would know what he’s doing.” You nodded at this, realizing he was right, it would be better to know what you were doing than embarrass yourself.

“O-Ok. Show me, please?” You sounded so cute to Joel. He couldn’t get enough of you.

Joel had done so much to prevent any man from getting close to you, hell, even women too. You didn’t see the way he held a chiv up to people's necks just by mentioning your name, or how he shot a guy in the leg for waving at you, only letting him live to tell others to stay away from you, or else the next bullet would be in their heads. He didn’t want you corrupted by disgusting people of the world, he wanted to wait for the right opportunity to make you his, and it seemed Mister Xavier had given him the perfect opportunity.

“Alright. First lesson is gonna be on kissing. Get closer.” He commanded you, which made you slightly more nervous than it should’ve. You nodded, and obeyed, getting to the point that both your legs were touching.

“Alright, close your eyes. And purse your lips, not too much, just a little.” You did exactly as he said, and a few seconds later, you felt warm lips against your own. You felt the hairiness of his mustache and beard, tickling your features. He made a small ‘smooch’ sound before pulling away.

“See. It’s easy. You just had your first kiss.” You opened your eyes and saw Joel just a few inches away from your face. You giggled, and smiled with glee. You just had your first kiss! You kissed a man! Joel smiled back at you before rubbing your cheek and pulling your lip down, before letting it flip back up.

“Alright, lesson number two. Making out. Open your mouth for me darling, just slightly.” Your big eyes bore into his before doing exactly that. He suddenly slammed his lips against yours, his tongue slipping in your mouth. You let out a muffled noise before realizing he was playing with your tongue with his own. You kept staring at him before realizing his eyes were closed, so you followed in his steps. You both twirled your tongues against one another, your steps just being to follow him as closely as you could. His hands suddenly gripped your cheeks, cupping them in his hands, effectively pushing you closer to his lips. He seemed hungry, his mouth pushing against yours with such passion, his breathing getting heavy. You were very unsure of what to do, but it seemed he enjoyed what you were doing, so you felt okay. He kept pressing his tongue against yours, salvia dripping down your chin with how sloppy he was becoming. After a few minutes of making out, he pulled back, your tongue popping out your mouth as he pulled back.

“Fucking hell…” You heard him mutter under his breath, unsure if it was positive or not.

“Was that good, Joel?” You tilted your head at him, staring into his brown eyes.

“Oh.. Uh…” Joel had forgotten this was supposed to be a lesson for you. “Yes, you did amazing sweetie.” You gave him a large grin, so glad you did your best for him. Joel’s mind, however, was running a million miles an hour. His cock was so incredibly hard, throbbing almost, he had to contain himself from pinning you down and fucking your brains out. His hand was rubbing against his temple, trying to calm himself and collect his thoughts. Alright, he needed to focus on taking it slow for you. Stay focused.

“Okay. Next lesson is gonna be exploring your body. Let's take this off.” His large hands pressed up against your body, lifting up the hem of your shirt. You put your hands up, allowing him to slip the shirt off your body. He stared at your chest covered with a black bra, so simple, yet so arousing. He cursed under his breath again before gulping and softly rubbing your breast.

“Get on my lap, sweetie.” You nodded and climbed over him, but he stopped you.

“Back to me, sweetheart.” His deep voice made you quiver a little, but you shouldn’t feel like that, Joel was your friend trying to help you out. You settled into his lap, feeling a hardness press against your ass. You shifted around, trying to find a comfortable position, unknowingly making Joel feel jolts of pleasure run through his body. The way your beautiful ass rubbed against him, god, he could cum in his jeans right now.

“I’m gonna touch you, is that alright?” You nodded, finally settling into a nice position on his lap.

His hands grabbed your breasts through your bra, large hands covering a good portion of it. You felt a flutter run through your body, Joel’s hands surprisingly warm. He kept squeezing and squeezing, making you feel a mixture of embarrassment at his possible thoughts, and a slightly tingly feeling in your lower regions.

His hands pulled the inner corner of your bra outwards, exposing your nipples. They hardened at the cold air, and Joel let the bra flip back, covering them once more. Joel’s hands snaked around your back and undid the bra with a ‘click.’ He guided the bra off your body and began to grope at you once more, this time with more passion, as he felt pure skin to skin contact. You whimpered, getting a weird feeling in your pussy at the way his fingers grazed your nipples. “Joel…” It was a quiet moan, barely a whisper, but Joel sure heard it. It rang in his ears, almost. His cock twitched at the noise, he was already addicted.

“You like it?” His voice was hushed, whispered into your ear. You nodded and bit your lip, a small and breathy “mhmm” leaving your lips. Joel's hands continued the groping movements, massaging your breasts almost, wanting to stay gentle for you. How badly he wanted to pinch your nipples and slap your tits as he fucked you while you hung off the bed, but this will do for now. He continued for a long time, before one of his hands snaked down your body, towards your stomach, down to your belly button and finally to where your jeans started. With one (skilled) hand, he unbuttoned them and slowly pushed his hand down your panties. Fuck. He’s supposed to be teaching you.

“I’m gonna touch your pussy now. It’s gonna feel good sweetie, have you ever played with yourself down here?”

“N-no…” God, somehow, Joel got even harder hearing that. His heartbeat went up, he loved the fact you were so naive to it all, you definitely needed a man like him to teach you. It would be a waste for a bitch-boy like Xavier to take your pureness, no, you needed a real man to fuck you until you cried.

Joel hand traced your skin, until he felt your clit. With a smirk on his face, that he was glad you couldn’t see, he began to rub your clit, which made you jump initially. But almost seconds later, you felt incredible pleasure as Joel rubbed circles into your bud.

“Hahhhh. Feels g-good Joel.” He hummed in response, feeling at peace with one hand groping your breast and one hand rubbing your clit. He wanted to wait until you were wet enough before fingering you, you did need a lot of prep for his fat cock. Your moans of pleasure were music to his ears, he loved the way you sounded. You felt him lift you up off his body, and slide out the way so you could sit back on the bed again.

“Let me take these off for you, baby.” Joel kissed your forehead before beginning to remove your pants. Your mind began to race, Joel always used nicknames like ‘sweetie’ or ‘sweetheart’ with you, but never baby. You had wondered if Joel ever saw you more as a friend, you saw him sorta like a mentor, someone to guide you, while also being one of your best friends, but the fact he called you baby made you second guess yourself. I mean, he was helping you prepare for your date tomorrow, so it couldn’t mean he was into you! Right?

“Your legs are so pretty, baby.” His rough hands rubbed your legs as softly as he could, feeling the warm flesh under his. You looked gorgeous like this, spread on his bread, practically naked. Only thing protecting your body from him was the small cloth covering your pussy, and he was seconds away from ripping it off your body. He wasted no time pulling them down, you aided him by lifting up your lower half for a few seconds to pull them off, and moving your legs to push them off completely. There you were, the love of his life, his everything, ready to be eaten like a beautiful apple off the tree. He waited so long for this, pumping his cock to the thought of doing every possible sexual thing to you every night. He dreamt of the way your body looked, and none of his dreams compared to the real thing, you were perfect in his eyes, and he wanted to make you his.

Joel swiftly took off his shirt, revealing his chest to you, making you stare at him. He had smiled, softly, at you, allowing you to feel less nervous. It was only now you took a good look at his jeans, and there you saw it. The outline of his hard cock, it was a fucking giant! It was long and curved in his jeans, the thickness of it making you gulp. You had tried to say something, but Joel’s face was suddenly shoved in between your legs, and began to lick at your slit.

“Joel!” You moaned out, much louder than you anticipated, squirming around as he licked your pussy. You felt amazing, the mixture between his tongue flicking across your clit, to the way the tip of his fingers prodded your hole, it was pure ecstasy. You kept moaning as he continued to inflict the pleasure upon you, gripping the sheets of his bed as his face buried itself even deeper between your thighs.

“Feels so good… So good.” You moaned out, very drawn out, a weird feeling starting in your lower stomach. You only felt it for a short amount of time before Joel pulled away, a string of saliva connecting him and your pussy.

“You’re so fucking cute baby, let me feel you.” His fingers that went from simply prodding your hole began to push inside you, making you moan out at the way his two thick fingers pressed against your walls. You had covered your face with your hands, whining underneath your fingers at the way his fingers filled you. He couldn’t get enough of the way you reacted.

“Look at what you do to me…” His voice deepened, and you uncovered your face to see him rubbing against his cock. You gasped a little, his hands were so large but they seemed so small compared to his cock, the length and thickness making you curious.

“Is it hard?” You questioned, and his fingers pulled out of you, a small whimper leaving your lips.

“So hard. Wanna see?” You nodded slowly, curious to what it looked like. He unbuttoned his pants, revealing the top part of his boxers, and he slowly pulled them down. You sat up, eye level, and stared closely at it. Suddenly, his cock bounced up, hitting you on the nose with it, making you jump back and Joel lightly laughing.

“Touch it.” You let out your hand a little, touching the pink tip, making it twitch.

“Like this.” Joel grabbed your hand and guided it to wrap around his cock, a tight fist motion. You couldn’t wrap your hands around it all the way, however, which made Joel’s cock twitch once more.

“Good girl. Now move it up and down.” You nodded, looking up at him, and began to make the motion. He groaned, and you watched intensely as his foreskin pulled back to reveal the head of his cock, then went back to hide it once more. You continued this motion, Joel’s groans of satisfaction pushing you to continue further. Your head was then pushed forward, making your lips collide with the head of his cock.

“Yeah that’s right, lick it baby, put it in your mouth.” He kept roughly pushing your head, you forced your mouth open and gagged as Joel shoved your head into his cock. His hand, now pulling your hair, began to use you like a fuck doll while he shoved your head back and forth on his cock. It was rough, and his cock became slobbery with the amount of saliva you were producing from the gagging. He continued this, despite your whines and taps on his thigh, too enamored by the feeling of your warm mouth.

“Fuck baby. This is how you suck cock, you’re doing so well for a virgin.” His tone was sickly sweet, voice groaning in between words. Tears began forming in your eyes before he pulled your head back, letting you properly breathe. You took many deep breaths, coughing in the process as well, before Joel pet your head.

“Sorry, baby. I got a bit ahead of myself, didn’t I?” He let out a chuckle, and you nodded, feeling air come back into your lungs, and he bent down to kiss your puffy and drooling lips.

“I’m sorry baby, you’re just too cute to resist. Especially when you’re all ready for me like this. My gorgeous baby, all mine.” You felt your heart race at his words, all his? You didn’t understand, this was supposed to be a sex-ed lesson, but why was Joel acting like-

“Spread your legs baby.” Joel laid you back on the bed, and you hesitantly spread your legs, still unsure what were Joel’s intentions. He settled himself between your legs, lifting them to wrap them around his lower half. He tapped his cock on your navel a few times, making you twitch at the sensation.

“This might hurt, baby.” He began to push his cock between your lower lips, making you gasp at the sensation. Despite the lubrication you produced, it still hurt as he was pushing.

“Joel!” You groaned out, making him stop as he was halfway.

“Does it hurt, sweetheart?” You nodded, and Joel rubbed your thigh, a form of reassurance to help you with the pain. You both stared at each other, your chest moving up and down while you heavily breathed. Joel’s eyes bore deep into yours, admiring your beautiful flushed face, he thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world. He gulped, and continued to push into you as the moments passed. You winced in pain, and he shushed you in a sweet way, letting you whine as whispered small reassurances. Once his cock filled you, Joel looked back up at you, his body pinned over yours.

“How do you feel, baby?” You bit your lip.

“So… Full.” He smiled, grabbing your hand to kiss it.

“You look so pretty like this, no other girl can compare.” You internally winced at his words. You had a feeling this wasn’t a lesson anymore.

“T-Thank you Joel…” His lips planted against your own, and his hand squeezed yours while he drew his hips back. Slowly, he thrusted into you, you squeezed his hand and moaned into his mouth. He continued these movements, hips drawing back and forth at an agonizingly slow pace, he wanted so badly to hold your hips and fuck you until you came, but he held back the urge as he wanted to make you feel good, not only him.

“Fuck baby, you’re s-squeezing me.” His tone was low and shaky. You moaned at his movements, pain long gone as you wanted more.

“Feels good Joel. I like your d-dick.” This drove him over the edge, opting to speed up despite his brain telling him not to. Thankfully, you responded positively by letting out a loud moan and squeezing your eyes shut. His lips began to suck at your neck, thrusting into you at a fast pace now. You were overwhelmed, the feeling in your stomach coming back while he messily sucked at your neck. You gripped the sheets with one hand, and squeezed Joel’s hand at the same time, your throat not being able to form the right words.

“J-Joel. Feels funny…”

“That means you’re gonna cum baby. Just let it happen baby, I’m gonna cum too.” Joel wanted to last long, he wanted to feel you squeeze his cock for hours, but he was too sensitive from the way your mouth felt earlier. You began to clamp down on his cock, releasing a high-pitched moan as you spasmed around his cock, his body not being able to take it anymore. With one last thrust, he came inside you, cock twitching as your pussy convulsed around him. You both held each other as your orgasms hit its peak, and Joel messily kissed your lips. You and Joel rode out your orgasms before he pulled his cock out, a mess from his cum and your wetness. He sighed and fell on the bed, next to you and took a minute to catch his breath, he was still an old man after all.

“So… That was sex?” You still were taking deep breaths, but Joel’s ‘lesson’ became a bit unclear towards the end.

“Yep.” He was tired, clearly, and he moved your position to be the little spoon, Joel’s arm wrapping around you. Your feeble mind, despite being very innocent, had assumed that Joel’s lesson wasn’t of pure intent, not by the way he was holding you like a lover would. You were slightly uncomfortable, one part telling you it was wrong to be with a man this old, the other liked the way Joel treated you. The issue was you only saw Joel as a friend, you had never seen him as anything more, but you were sure that now he saw you as something deeper.

“I think… I have to go h-” Joel shushed you, and pulled you closer against his warm chest.

“Go to sleep.” You wanted badly to resist, but your body and mind were far too tired to fight against you. You nodded, and cuddled into his hand and began to drift off.

–

The morning after wasn’t too bad, you woke up to see Joel was gone, and your clothes folded in a neat pile in the corner of the bed, a note on top of it.

‘Had work. See you later.’

You sighed, thanking the heavens you didn’t have to deal with the awkwardness. Maybe Joel did see you as a friend after all. You got dressed and quickly head to work, trying to avoid being seen leaving Joel’s apartment. You rushed over to job assignment, not before seeing a huge crowd of people. Curiously, you walked over to see what all the commotion was about, looking around at all the people. You saw a familiar face, Ellie, and pushed through the crowds of people to ask her.

“What happened?” Her face was of displeasure, and she hesitantly told you.

“Some guy got shot dead, bullet to the head. They don’t know who did it, they said he was showing signs of infection, but there’s no bite marks anywhere.”

“Who?” Ellie stayed quiet for a second, before sighing and telling you.

“Xavier.” Your mouth gaped open, tears forming in your eyes as you swallowed a sob, you didn’t want to believe it. You moved away from the crowd, right before FEDRA officers began to tell people to move away from the crime scene. Ellie was right by your side, rubbing your back, assuring you that it was okay.

Joel watched from a distance, a smirk on his face, knowing you only belonged to him. You were his, and now, he was yours as well. You just need a little more time to understand that.

taglist: @avengersfan25 @sloanexx @flowercrowns-goodvibes @aerangi @st4rb0y27 !! inbox me to join/remove from the taglist!!!

#joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #dark!joel miller x reader #joel miller the last of us #joel miller x female reader #joel miller dark fic #joel the last of us #joel miller #tlou #tlou x reader #joel miller smut #tw dubcon

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vidavalor · 5 months

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You really think they've kissed before? I want to believe.

Dammit, Scully, the truth is out there! *rustles through file folders in the basement until uncovers the correct one and then flourishes it with an Aziraphale-ish "AH-HA!"* What about the other arrangement in The Arrangement scene in S1, perchance?

In The Globe Theatre scene, it is established that Crowley and Aziraphale each knew before the scene begins that they themselves are assigned to Edinburgh by their respective head offices later in the week but neither of them knew the other was until they learn from one another that they are during the course of the scene. As a result, triggering The Arrangement-- in the 'only one of them doing both of their work assignments' sense-- cannot have been why they were meeting up. We also learn early in the scene, though, that Crowley asked to meet without being specific as to why (which is an answer in and of itself, imo lol), other than to convey that it wasn't an emergency/they hadn't been caught because Aziraphale is relaxed and popping the food kinky Serpent of Eden's favorite fruit in front of him for the duration of the scene. So, Crowley asked to meet and Aziraphale picked the place-- this meeting is an *arrangement*-- but that is then subtly semi-hidden in the scene with some sleight of hand distraction that calls your attention to the revelation of the fact that they both can-- and sometimes do-- do each other's work. The scene about them doing each other's miracles is really also about them doing each other lol. Using past tense by using 'thought' in this bit of the scene though, Scully, kind of says a lot about the reason Crowley wanted to meet though, yeah?

Everyone so on about that 2.06 disaster that they've forgotten about the trailing-off-verbal-ellipsis-into-kissy-pout that is Crowley for Hell is sending me away for a few days so my first thought was that I want to see you and that I was willing to endure a few minutes of one of these depressing plays you like-- thank you for sparing me the first few acts with this meeting time, btw-- and show up with some love poetry and my glasses halfway down my nose and some big Bildaddy energy and see if I could flirt my way into your bed while you do that thing where you pretend to be scandalized by the thought while eating grapes in front of me because old movie chemistry, us, even though old movies haven't been invented yet so anyway, angel, what if I just pivot this straight into The Arrangement since you were hinting you'd be down for that by commenting on how my assignment didn't seem that difficult a moment ago and we'll see if the audience notices what the scene is inferring that it's implying by the fact that when you look at me, I pout at you *again* while suggesting only one of us goes to Scotland, furthering suspicions that The Arrangement isn't just about inventing occult/ethereal weekends for each other but that it's a sex game where whoever goes and does both of our work assignments gets to be the one to choose whatever they want in bed from the one of us who had the day off which is also why, instead of taking turns as we would if this were just about the miracles, we flip a coin because I live to cheat on the coin toss because anything you want, angel...

#ineffable husbands #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #good omens 2 #good omens meta #aziracrow

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obsidianstrawberrymilk · 10 months

Text

A short list of things I would have changed in HoO

It takes place ten ish years after the end of PJO. Percy and Annabeth aren’t a part of the seven but instead appear as cool older mentors to help out the Lost Hero trio. They both have careers and live in New York and go to Sally’s house for dinner every weekend.

Caleo isn’t a thing. In fact, let’s not even mention Calypso. At most we mention she was freed after the last war as idk proof demigods have some power or something.

More than 1 Asian character. Give this one ADHD and dyslexia bc shocker Asian kids can be disabled as well.

For that matter a properly disabled character. I have a deaf OC I would use if I rewrote the series.

Leo is aroace. His arc is about learning that his self worth doesn’t have to be tied to the people around him and his friends love and care about him and he doesn’t need romance to be complete. His flirting is overcompensation bc he doesn’t feel romantic or sexual attraction and is afraid he’ll be alone forever.

Drew and Piper become friends. Drew’s mean girl bullshit is outdated and boring and it would have been a lot cooler to see her icy exterior thaw and her help Piper with her charmspeck (explaining how Piper learned how to use it to begin with) and take on an older sister role

Neither Leo nor Piper become head councilors to their cabins because that’s dumb

Keep the chapter title style from PJO. It was so fun and one of the highlights of the series for me. The relatable nature of PJO in general was kinda lost in HoO and it’s a shame bc there was such a variety of characters for people to identify with there.

Give Reyna a girlfriend or at least a homoerotic friendship that can become an actual relationship in the next series or something

Frank is 14 and he and Hazel aren’t dating, they just have mutual baby crushes on one another.

For that matter what the fuck was ‘Frank is magically not fat due to Mars’s blessing’ bullshit? Frank is a fat character who stays fat but learns to be confident in himself and his body type.

Stop The Adultification of Hazel 2k23. Hazel is 13, she’s the youngest member of the seven and despite her trauma I think that should be obvious. I think emphasizing her relationship with Nico could be fun here - he’s in his 20s so him taking a more ‘that older sibling who toes the line between parent and sibling’ role here could be fun.

Also, I don’t want Hazel to have Hecate’s blessing or whatever. Between her being a magical horsegirl and the daughter of Pluto there’s already a lot of room to expand on her powers that was never used - I think doing more with her cursed jewels and metals powers and her learning the other aspects of her powers, like Shadow Travel, would be fun.

Instead I think having a daughter of Hecate as a part of the Seven would be cool, because we could still have a witchy character with mist manipulation and magic powers.

Give Jason an actual personality, please. Bro’s been a child solider practically since age 2 and has spent his whole life with the weight of other teenagers’ lives on his shoulders as praetor - give him perfectionism issues and anxiety. We’re told that he’s spent his whole life helping others compromise instead of being his own person - show that. Let his arc end with him deciding to try and live a mortal life and find out who he is beyond being a war general.

Show us that Octavian’s a piece of shit, don’t just tell us.

Leo and Piper are the ones who fall into Tartarus. Nothing romantic ever happens but we get heavy emphasis on their friendship and we get to see their grief over Leo’s mom and Piper’s grandfather respectively

Piper’s grandfather has died a few months ago and she cut her hair herself when her dad didn’t want to let her due to that (correct me if I’m wrong but it’s a tradition in Cherokee culture to cut your hair when a loved one dies, correct?), which is why it’s all uneven. A lot of her insecurities stem from going from growing up in rural Oklaholma (not in a reservation bc there aren’t any there) without much money to suddenly being catapulted into a millionaire Hollywood lifestyle and having everyone criticize everything about her and be really racist, all while her Dad drew farther away from both her and her grandfather. Her arc would be reconnecting with both her culture and Dad and learning to find who she is and her self worth again.

They defeat Gaea in a way that isn’t so anticlimactic and fucking stupid

#if anyone else wants to add on feel free to #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #hoo #riordan universe #piper mclean #leo valdez #jason grace #percy jackson #annabeth chase #hazel levesque #frank zhang #reyna avila ramirez arellano #reyna arellano #heroes of olympus critical #hoo criticism #octavian

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radiance1 · 4 months

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I’ve been thinking about this a lot and basically Danny is Beelzebub from Hellva boss with his own casino performs and the entrance defies reality and all his ghost rouges come in and go as they please and some humans and or mortals stumble in and think it’s just some place where metas party their fucking asses off which wouldn’t be that bad if this wasn’t FUCKING GOTHAM. Danny doesn’t know how they got in Gotham but they just want to party but unfortunately for him the bats hear a rumor some meta trafficking ring has been planning a big raid on a certain casino that’s new ish and they have to stop it so they go in disguise and they get to witness Danny and his rouges beat the every loving snot out of some traffickers

maybe Danny is a clone, maybes he’s reincarnated, maybe he lost a bet, maybe he moved to Gotham for fun, maybe he got tossed across the universe into Gotham

who knows certainly not Danny

Hmm.

I have zero clue if I want Danny to look somewhat like Beelzebub or not, but we won't be dwelling on that right now.

How Danny got to Gotham? I got zero blood clue, but he's there and is about to party.

Maybe this could even be set after TUE bad ending, where the explosion wasn't reversed, and he parties to forget the pain and just focus on the good vibes. Maybe stops using his human form, using his ghost form more and it subtly changing without him noticing into a different form or something due to his habits.

Maybe that some of his ghost form's new features leak over to his human form.

Anyways.

Maybe the casino isn't even in Gotham, like physically. Instead, it's the doors leading into the casino that're in Gotham City, and stepping through him just yoinks them into Danny's Dimension and into his casino.

So, Danny's casino is located smack dab in his own dimension, but somehow the doors pop up in Gotham for whatever reason and a few residents stumble through and see Danny and his rogues (who didn't want to kick a pup while he's down and indulges him) partying up to the high heavens and the lowest hells.

You could even say that, like Beelzebub, Danny is eating up all of the good vibes that comes from other people while partying. How and why does Danny own a casino?

Vlad.

Vlad is indulging him because they both lost something that day, and then Danny was placed into his care, and they were both two disturbed to really continue their entire good vs evil thing and they kinda just, chilled out with each other. Danny asks for a casino one day on a whim, Vlad indulges him, then Danny starts partying up to get away from his own grief while Vlad buries himself in work to avoid his.

So, when the meta trafficking ring tries to capture everyone at the casino and the bats are there to stop them. Every rogue there silently agree to beat them up because one, they have dignity as ghosts and can't just let themselves be captured by humans.

Two, this is the playground of Danny and one of the few things people unanimously agree to never fight in (one of the others is the Christmas truce).

Three, this place is also owned by Vlad Masters. If the man is anything like how he was before the whole kicked pup thing (everyone thinks this applies to both Danny and Vlad) then they don't really want to tick him off and they're basically doing these humans a favor anyways.

Anything they could do to them physically; Vlad could do worse to them in the human world.

The batfamily sees this, and decides that nobody here actually needs their help and can take care of themselves. But also, given the track record of metas becoming rogues in this city, they can't just leave it alone either.

They would make a file about them at the most for the case they decide to run rampant through the city. But they'll leave them alone for the most part.

(Danny doesn't know who or what Batman is, as he doesn't exist in their dimension, yes even the comics don't exist. Neither does the batfamily know Danny Phantom, because he doesn't exist in their universe either.)

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #Danny and Vlad: loses the people they love all at once #Ghosts: They're in their kicked pup arc #Should Danny resemble Beelzebub in some way?#I have zero clue

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joseline-woodhouse · 5 months

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I want in on talking about Annabel and Prospero.

Since most posts I've seen are about how nice it is to watch them being healthy for one another (it really is, I adore their dynamic) I decided to talk about how neither of them would hesitate to kill one another eventually.

First of all both Annabel Lee and Prospero are calculative people. Both of them care for only the outcome and how to get there. I have seen people call Annabel a hypocrite for protecting Prospero because he's important to her after what she did to Duke and I entirely disagree, more on the rescue from Ada later. We have established that Annabel really doesn't care that everyone in the academy (except one, if the Deans can be trusted) is doomed.

I don't think Annabel's general willingness to sacrifice people needs to be discussed.

Now, I'm leaning a bit far out the window here, but take a good look at Prospero in the left picture above, he looks more frustrated than anything. His chances just got a lot worse, he needs to rethink his strategy and on top of all that Ada is invading his personal space again.

Moving forward to what I think makes their mutual betrayal inevitable, the episodes after the Mansion Arc (this is were it gets interesting):

Until now we have seen Prospero mostly be mildly bothered by whatever is happening. When everything fell apart during the Lesson and everyone except for him apperently just did not do their job, he seemed like he was about to explode and seriously questioning his choice of team. Everyone else appeared to just want to go on with the day, Prospero however demanded answers, proving that he cares to win this entire game without getting side tracked.

Further his behaviour during the lesson shows that he actually doesn't get how anyone else would still be reluctant to kill their friends here. He was genuinely not expecting anyone to act out of empathy anymore.

And after the widow's watch affair and him witnessing Annabel freaking out after the labyrinth and smoothly asking about Pluto instead of giving an explanation, he is surely just one big-ish failure or unwillingness to take action away from openly confronting Annabel how it can be that whenever she is alone with Lenore, things go south ways, how whenever people want to act against Lenore, she calls it a waste of time despite the growingly obvious threat that Lenore poses.

I think Annabel actually does matter to him, and I think he matters to Annabel as well, but both of them expect something really specific from one another and sympathy alone means little to them.

Now about Annabel saving Prospero.

I believe this says everything:

Since Annabel is a chess player, get ready for chess metaphors:

In chess, most gambits are about giving away a pawn. Why? Because a pawn has very little value on its own and sacrificing a pawn in order to get a slightly more profitable structure on the board can actually be worth it.

Sacrificing a queen? If you do something like that, you better be 100% sure you're seeing a forced checkmate.

Not only is Prospero's spector really powerful, Prospero is also the only thing keeping Annabel in control of her own team right now. Other than Prospero who's supporting her as long as she keeps bringing results, she is stuck with Ada who is a complete wild card and useless most of the time, Morella who is only half on her team, Will who is loyal mostly to Montresor and Montresor who constantly challenges her leadership.

The way things are standing right now, everything she has build would fall apart the very moment Prospero is gone.

Also, what if Annabel and Lenore have to stay long enough for their teams to start falling apart? Whom does Annabel want to face in a one on one? Someone like Montresor who's spector can very much use brute force against her or someone like Prospero who's spector is similarly unforceful as hers?

We even saw, that Annabel can just simply neutralise Prospero's rats with her fog, leaving him with no real attack on her. While he applies her with status conditions she can use her blossoms to attack him after she used her fog to make his rats disappear like she did on the widow's watch

Annabel did not safe him because she likes him, which she does. She saved him because he is a very important piece for her game and no real threat to her in the long run.

Prospero follows Annabel not because he likes her, which he does, but because she keeps bringing results. Or at least she did until rather recently.

#nevermore webtoon #annabel lee whitlock #prospero #annabel lee nevermore #prospero nevermore #annabel lee #annabel nevermore #annabel #nevermore

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honeymoonblues · 7 months

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If only you asked...

Remus Lupin x Professor!Reader

Summary: Remus is deciding wheter or not to ask you out, and you're having a bad day. (Gender neutral reader)

Word count: 1.3k

A/N: A little continuation to my other Remus fic 'Crash!' can also be read as a stand-alone. Let me know if there are any spelling errors, English is not my first language.

A few months had passed since you became a professor at Hogwarts.

At first, it had been hard to get the students truly engaged with the subject. Of course you understood that history could get boring, but slowly and with a lot of effort, the kids were inspired by your own enthusiasm. You were eccentric enough to catch their attention for the whole hour, and stern enough to make sure they were actually learning.

Now, the relationship with your coworkers was an easier task. You got along with them just fine, having quickly learned about each of their personalities and being mindful of their own little quirks.

You knew well to treat Severus with respect, to call Minerva by her first name, to never interrupt Sprout while she was teaching and to be open minded to whatever Trelawney had to say, even when she spoke the most peculiar of facts.

Surely, there was also Remus. Whom, no matter how many odd quirks, could never get on your nerves. Even with his strange way of acting every once month, you thought he must have his reasons. Your bond was warm, a friendship disguised under pure professionalism (or so you thought).

You see, it was always:

“Oh, professor Lupin, you must come with me to Hogsmeade this weekend!”

And Remus would never turn down an offer from you. He would say:

“That’s very convenient, you see, I was just thinking that I need to go to the quill shop.”

It turned cartoon-ish after a while. You’d invite him to the village, he’d suddenly remember that he also has to go the village, so it would be foolish to refuse, and you’d both smile brightly to each other. Now, Remus was quickly running out of stores he ‘needed’ to go to, and your invitations were so regular that they didn’t seem ‘just friendly’ anymore.

The truth is, you were fooling no one. Except maybe yourselves.

If anyone should ask about your relationship, you were kind to answer:

“Of course professor Lupin and I are friendly, we’re coworkers!”

And Remus didn’t hesitate to respond:

“Yes, I’d say we’re good acquaintances, why do you ask?”

In the staff room, Severus would raise his eyebrows every time, which is the most expressive you’ve seen him. Then Flitwick would sip on his tea, and Dumbledore would grin. Nevertheless, the professors were still indifferent to whatever-might-be-going-on with you two, Merlin knows they don’t need anything else to get involved with.

The students, however, do love a little love story. They would throw each other glances every time you stepped in Remus’ classroom, whisper excitedly when they caught you two talking animatedly, and roll their eyes whenever you’d invite him to Hogsmeade.

It was painfully clear! You both fancied each other, why couldn’t you just date, and get over it! The truth is, you were both phenomenal cowards. The ‘what ifs’ were clouding your minds. Also was it even allowed for professors to date? (No one cared!) But since the pair of you decided it would be best to ignore these feelings and not talk about it, the months just kept on stretching out and neither dared to make a move that wasn’t inside the usual routine of Hogsmeade’s strictly-professional-and-maybe-a-little-friendly strolls.

Remus’ heart raced just by thinking of asking you out for once. He smiled to himself, looked at a fixed point in his office, and ignored the papers he was supposed to be grading for a moment. He was thinking of you. Your humour, then your laugh, then your smile, then your blushing cheeks, then your twinkling eyes.

‘I’m absolutely done for.’ He thought, snapping out of his mind.

There was someone at his door.

“Minerva, please come in.”

Behind her glasses, McGonagall had a sharp glint in her eyes, and her mouth showed a faint smirk. She had come all the way to Remus’ office to discuss the little outing he was planning for the fourth years’ class. And she did just that, but in the back of her mind there was something else. She decided it was time to help her former student a bit, after all, she’d always had a soft spot for Remus.

“Winter holidays are getting closer.” She remarked, as she was getting up.

“A much needed break for everyone, isn’t it?”

“Of course...” She nodded with her usual poise. “Any plans for this winter, Remus?”

“Oh, Minerva, whatever could I have planned for winter? You know me...” He chuckled, shrugging and pointing to his office with his hands. Accompanying her to the door, he said. “I’m quite the dull man, after all.”

“I was just asking, since I’ve been seeing you out in Hogsmeade every weekend, I thought you could have...” She smiled, and Remus stuttered a bit before Minerva spoke again, softly but surely. “If you asked them, Remus, they would say yes, you know...”

Then she left, still grinning when she closed the door behind her. Remus stood there, lips tightly closed and feeling like he was caught red-handed. He sat down, then stood up again, and finally decided to sit down again. He also shook with laughter for a while as if he was insane, but kept quiet for a long time after that.

“I’m fucked.” He concluded out loud.

You loved the atmosphere that winter had brought to Hogwarts. The holidays were just around the corner and the kids seemed excited, ready for a break just as much as the professors were.

The students got more distracted this time of the year, but no one could really blame them. At the same time, exams were the last obstacle between them and the enchanting, needed rest. But it was surely a lot of work. You had so many papers and tests to grade that you started to wonder if it would be possible to have two history teachers instead of just one. Two whole stressful weeks where you didn’t even go out on weekends, and your free time was basically nonexistent. Merlin, you were almost out of your mind.

Hugging yourself in your heavy winter coat, and sipping on your hot tea, you made your way to your classroom. You were late because you’d accidentally slept in, after staying up late trying to decipher some bizarre students’ essays. But no matter how late, you were not about to miss breakfast or you’d surely pass out in the middle of the class, so you went down to the kitchens, asked politely for a cup and took off as fast as you could.

The thing is, today was not your day at all. But it could get worse, and it did! 5 minutes before the end of your first class, you tripped slightly, as you tend to do, but your worn out boots simply decided it was enough, and the heel on one of them broke. You just stared at your mutilated shoe for a moment, standing in a weird uneven stance, uncharacteristically quiet. You sighed, looked at the attentive students and dismissed the class for the day.

There were 35 minutes before the next class started, ‘enough time to cry a little’, you thought. But you shook your head, and sat down at your desk, examining your shoe.

“Certainly broken boot will not bring me down.” You spoke to yourself.

“I don’t see how it could.” Said a soft voice.

You snapped your head forward, and watched Remus entering your classroom, a shy smile on his face.

“Is this a bad time?” He asked, unusually bashful.

“No, no! I was just...” You held the boot for him to see. “Trying to fix this...”

He chuckled at the poor state of your shoes and got closer to take a look.

“I really should go to Hogsmeade, and see if someone can patch them up for me.” You mumbled, quite discouraged at your own chances of reapairing it. “Would you like to accompany me, professor?” The question was soft, hopeful, and it got a smile out of both of you.

“That’s very convenient, you see, I was just about to ask you on a date."

#remus lupin #remus lupin x you #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fluff #remus x reader #gender neutral reader #oneshot #x reader #my writing

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nburkhardt · 1 year

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I saw a thing on twitter about how one day Steve and Eddie just randomly start calling each other boyfriends before they even date.

And WELL ~

At first it was a joke. Just a little silly thing that was said once, twice and eventually it was just well… right. Perfect actually.

Granted, everyone around them thought they were the real deal already. So, naturally it was easy. The only thing thing? They weren’t a couple. Sure they were close, lived together even and called each other nicknames that usually are saved for couples. And they also cancelled plans with others when one or the other is upset. They’re clingy, constantly touching in some way. Arms wrapped around shoulders or looped together. Hand holding, lap sitting, flung themselves on each others backs. Even piggy backs! The whole thing.

Okay, maybe they did lean too into the couple-ish things. But! That’s just how they were before everything. Steve’s a clingy bastard, touch-seeking lovable puppy in human form. Eddie’s always been a touchy guy, loves to hug and snuggle friends to death. It was inevitable, really.

Honestly though it started as a joke, regardless.

If you asked Steve it was to annoy Mike. If you asked Eddie, it was to annoy Dustin. Both teens were annoying when they burst through their front door already talking a mile a minute about whatever, only to stop mid rant to complain loudly when they notice their positions. Sometimes it’s Eddie in Steve’s lap, or Steve has his head on Eddie’s lap. There was also the one day when Robin was also thrown into the mix.

Technically, it was actually said by Robin. She has stated it a number of times but Steve and Eddie don’t believe her.

The time it started:

“Dingus! I swear to god, tell your dumbass boyfriend to return his videos on time!”

Steve looked up from his magazine to look across the store to find Robin glaring at Eddie, two tapes in her hands and waving them in around. Eddie doesn’t even looked ashamed, more amused actually. Dropping the magazine he gets up to only get on the computer, “Eddie’s only a day late, Robs. Give him a break, we did crash late last night”

The face he gets in return is just a treat. Robin screws up her whole face before immediately backing away from Eddie, “Eww, I do not want to hear anymore!”

Eddie’s laughing, Steve’s smirking and Robin has no clue that by crash; he means actual sleep. They watched the movies while passing a joint between each other, blissfully enjoying the childish movies and laughing at everything. Passing out on the couch in a tangle of lambs before the second movie even finished.

“Aw, but my boyfriend is just so pretty and you wouldn’t believe-“ Eddie doesn’t get to finish whatever since Robin shoved a hand over his mouth with a shriek.

Shaking his head he continues on working (reading the magazine, the store is dead. Has been for hours) listens to Robin let out another shriek when Eddie licks her hand. Then they’re chasing each other like little kids. It’s better entertainment than any customers they’ll never get for the day. Steve swears no one ever rents movies on Tuesdays, it’s been proven time and time again with how much they do nothing on every Tuesday. At least they get paid.

They’re joking and leaning into the whole “boyfriend” for at least a year before it slowly stopped being a joke. Steve stopped dating shortly after The Spring Break from Hell while Eddie wasn’t into the whole dating scene. It was also too uncomfortable to bring someone into their lives, especially when they usually end up crashing on the couch together most nights. (Yay nightmares!)

The day their relationship moves into an official relationship is actually the anniversary of when they found Eddie in the boat house and Eddie shoved Steve into the wall with a broken bottle. Neither one paid attention to the date, Dustin’s the only one to point it out when they tell the group about the change. It’s after that statement that they all say:

“What?! What do you mean you’re a couple, haven’t you been dating for a year now?”

———

Ending it there, I was starting to repeat myself. I thought it would be funny for the joke to turn real. Again saw the hc on twitter, don’t remember the person. Also I found out I’m better at writing angst than funny/fluff. Which..uhh I don’t know what to do with that information.

May come back to this au again if I get more ideas lol

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington x eddie munson #stranger things fic #stranger things #steddie hc #steddie au #nburkhardt writes #pls don’t ask about timelines

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lovedrots · 1 year

Text

little moments

iii . little moments - p.p. x reader ᥫ᭡

synopsis : you spend the last days of your trip to italy with the boy you admire most. ( includes one-bed!trope and mutual pining )

warnings : creepy pedo old(ish) men, mild swearing, very, very rushed. this is the first time i have written in a while. :( unedited, not proof-read !!

a/n : this is my first time writing in . . . a long time ! so please note that this likely isn’t very smooth, nor is it proof-read / edited. also i am begging you guys to give me requests in my inbox .. i gotta write more !!

word count : 6,921

italy ; 1:56 p.m.

venice was supposed to be fun.

this was supposed to be your opportunity to get away from your parents, to live out your cliche teenage late-night dreams with your closest friend, betty.

but instead, you were stuck trailing her and her new boy-toy, ned leeds.

it wasn’t that you didn’t like ned. no, he was funny. kind. but what bothered you was that he had wormed his way right into the middle of your plans. betty and you had put together list of what you wanted to do: sneak out at night to drink hot cocoa on the roof, pet the pigeons, take every boat you saw … of course, those were all thrown out the window.

and it didn’t really help, that ned’s best friend, peter parker wasn’t around. you hoped that he would at least have his – rather cute – best friend by his side, but it seemed that even he wasn’t content on watching ned and betty suck each other’s faces off.

understandable.

turning your attention from the pale waters, you tried to catch your blonde friend’s gaze – mission failed. you pursed your lip, fingers picking at each other. you were getting antsy, with a need to go something. anything.

“have you guys checked out the saint mark’s basilica yet?” you quipped, sliding in front of them. you were sick of trailing them like a helpless dog.

“doesn’t look fun,” ned muttered, dark eyes glued to betty’s grinning face. and the other didn’t even think it proper to reply. neither of them seemed to notice you, as they brushed past, the girl’s shoulder bumping yours in the process.

your face flushed with something resembling anger – both because of their lack of attention, and the fact that you may have been a little jealous of the couple. just a little. who wouldn’t be? sure, you could say they were just in the honeymoon phase, but the way they looked at each other still had you yearning for more than your life offered. when would you get to experience that? just thinking about it had you kicking your feet, fireworks going off in your tummy.

though you would never admit it, some nights, you would imagine yourself sleeping beside someone. it made you feel … safe, when no one else did.

that’s when you realized that you had stopped dead in your tracks, ned and betty out of sight. you frantically looked around, e/c eyes scanning heads as you stood on your toes. shit. gone.

“lost, amore?” a old, sultry voice rasped. you turned to see a man – likely in his fifties – looking you up and down. though he was smiling, it was certainly nothing kind.

lost? you weren’t lost. just exploring, yeah? you knew where you were; the cream walls, beige roof of the building to your left … the totally familiar waters …

okay, sure. you were lost.

but you couldn’t tell a stranger that!

“no, sir,” you replied, and though you tried to put strength into your voice, it still managed to come out as nothing more than a squeak. “i was just – just looking around. i’ve been here tons of times.”

you began inching backwards, uncomfortable with the older man and unfamiliarity of the situation. though you were sure he had no ill intentions, (were you?) you were rather put off by his use of such an intimate name. after all, you were a teenager; very obviously one, too.

“please, miss! you look –”

you stumbled into a hard surface, warmth seeping into your back, an oomph leaving whatever it is that you crashed into.

you spun on your heel, whipping your head up to look at – peter parker. oh, just the person you needed to see, you thought, sarcasm pounding your head. your gaze shot from man to boy, as if unsure where to focus. you were jet-lagged, disoriented, and maybe a little creeped out.

setting your eyes on peter, you tried to channel your feelings of long (momentary) suffering through the irises. though, in all honesty, you probably looked like a drunken madwoman. but when your e/c eyes met his, the honey-brown so enchanting, you felt a little more secure. it wasn’t quite a warm, safe blanket; after all, you didn’t really know the boy. you’d only watched him from afar. stuffing books in his locker (they often fell out), sneakily mixing chemicals in the lab (you could never tell what, exactly, it was), tapping his foot to taylor swift songs when he thought so one was looking.

yeah, you were smitten.

“sorry mister;” came his wavering voice, “she’s got me!”

sorry? you ‘got him?’ needless to say, you were baffled. never had you ever spoken to the brunette, yet he was acting as if you were the best of pals. you gave him a quizzical look, nearly crossing your arms. but the silence, the bothered look on the elder’s face, had you playing along. “pete!” you choked out, the nickname forcing itself through your teeth, “i was looking everywhere for you.”

“i was down by the – the docks,” he quipped, scratching the nape of his neck. he – rather reluctantly – placed his palm on your shoulder. Though his composure was stiff, and his acting skills horrible, you had no other choice.

feigning annoyance, you crossed your arms, thick brows knitting. “you could’ve answered my texts!” for the fun of it, you fished your cell phone from your back pocket, swinging it between your fingers.

he huffed, tapping his foot. now you were really getting into it, the little squabble. “my phone was dead! you try replying to messages with a pitch-black screen?”

the two of you shot back and fourth for god knew how long, pointing, grumbling, and prodding at each other. To the two of your, your humorous scene was only a few moments long. but, by the time you’d calmed down, laughter at the tips of your tongues, the man had drifted away. last you had checked, he was staring down the two of you with awe and anger, mouth opening and closing each time there was a heartbeat of silence, as if to interject.

the giggles finally bubbled up, leaving your lips in a string of gurgles as you attempted to suppress them. your newfound travel companion, upon hearing your racket, couldn’t help but explode. Peter doubled over, clamping a hand to his mouth, as if to stifle his guffaws; but, it was no use. both of you look utterly insane, like drugged maniacs.

but he thought your laughter was one of the prettiest things he had ever heard.

though, you didn’t know that. you were convinced that you sounded like a crow that had just drunken twelve bottles of whiskey. plus, you were too busy admiring his joy, through the whisps of hair that fell into your face as he chuckles subsided.

you averted your eyes, pupils refusing to shrink back. “thanks. for helping me back there, i mean. that guy was … something.”

he nodded in agreement, a boyish, lopsided grin plastered to his face. “oh, um, anytime!”

you suspected he would be on his way. that he’d turn around, and you would be left alone again.

instead, he analyzed you, head to toe; the hydrangea-print top, the sun-kissed cheeks and nose. you thought you looked like a sloppily put-together mess, but peter thought you looked dream-worthy. “i didn’t know you knew who i am.” he said once he collected his thoughts.

you blinked, your only sign of surprise, ‘till you spoke. “who doesn’t know peter parker? you’re basically the only reason our decathlon team wins every show-down. smartest guy we know!”

was that too much? perhaps you had made him uncomfortable. you only just topped yourself before you could have slipped out something along the lines of, plus, you’re gorgeous. very handsome. i like to watch you in class, you’re so pretty.

but, even when he wore an embarrassed blush on his cheeks, his grin grew impossibly wider, his chest puffing in pride. “i mean – i try. not the smartest, though. try mr. stark. he’s a real genius,” he rambled. “and, hey, you’re pretty smart, too. mrs. warren seems to like you! you always get good grades in her class.”

“you notice?” you rose a brow.

“well, i sit directly behind you, so it’s kind of hard not to listen to it. that’s the only reason. it’s not like i’m a stalker or anything!”

of course, he wasn’t watching you because of some feelings. it was just by chance. if you sat at the opposite end of the room, he probably wouldn’t even know that you’re in his class, for thor’s sake.

needless to say, you were butthurt. but you couldn’t let it show through.

even so, you only found the strength to nod, watching the waters of venice ripple. how could you have gotten your hopes up? you rubbed your arms, droplets of the rivers spraying them with each crash of the tides. you hated the silence. it was your chance; your chance to prove that you were worth becoming friends with. but your awkwardness, your shyness, kept you from saying a word.

you looked up at his face, expecting him to be looking right back – but instead, those puppy eyes were glued elsewhere, to the dark wood planks at your feet.

maybe, he was as nervous as you were.

you cleared your throat, shifting your posture a few more times than it would be, if you were casual. “you haven’t got anyone else, or any plans right now … right?” you tried, foot tapping.

“No, no no!” he quickly ushered, hands that were once behind his back now set in a defensive position. “none at all. i just wanted to walk around, y’know?” he bit his already rouge lips, the action only emphasizing the color in his face. “d’you want to join me? if you don’t, that’s fine! i mean, we only just really met, and it might seem kind of weird. not that i’m weird. am i? i don't think so, i just –”

oh, you were helpless for this man. the way he went on a tangent, deep eyes sparking, you had fallen far before you could really acknowledge it. your stomach was doing summersaults, head feeling light, but not quite dizzy. when were you going to wake up from this dream? you wanted to pinch yourself.

“oh, no, i’d love to . . weirdo,” you added with a quick wink. you weren’t flash, after all; you’d never intentionally bully the poor guy.

peter shook his head, curls bouncing as his face contorted further into a content happiness.

you slipped your phone into the front pocket of your jeans, slipping past him to launch into a slow stroll. you almost instinctively reached out a hand for him to take, as though to guide him, but you pulled away as quick as it came up.

the two of you were oh-so close, shoulders nudging every so often as you walked. it wasn’t always this way; at first, you’d been feet upon feet apart. but as you spoke, you seemed to gravitate towards the enter – or, towards each other.

“but, blueberry pie has such a good balance of sweetness, and the texture is so much more . . it’s just nicer!” you insisted, upon peter bringing up his favorite pie.

“but –” he countered, “that place down the street from delmars? best cherry pie ever.”

you shrugged, mocking offense. “well, i’ve never had it! how should i know?”

he scoffed, hand to his heart. “fine. when we get back from europe, first thing we’re doing? i’m taking you there. and ordering two slices of cherry pie, extra ice-cream.’

if we even make it that far, you wanted to mutter, but held your tongue. instead. you jabbed at his shoulder. “yeah, yeah. i’m holding you to that.”

your bantering, since the little skit you put on, never seemed to stop. but your differences never made your heart beat less for him; it only made you more curious. one of the most interesting, being his view on heroes in comparison to yours.

“i appreciate them; i do,” you had said, “but they can’t save us all. kids still go missing. murders still happen. it’s impossible to stop.”

“but they try! they’re humans, too,” he countered. though his tone was harsher than you were used to, you didn’t miss the kindness, the understanding, in his eyes.

“i know,” you said softly. “but – they always say they’re going to ‘save everyone.’” you paused, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve. “it’s – it’s why i like spider-man, actually.”

you found it curious, how his eyes widened, and his cheeks grew crimson. “what do you mean?” he squeaked out.

“well; he’s not like those other heroes. he looks out for all of us. robberies, drunk drivers … stuff that most of the avengers wouldn’t bother watching out for. i admire him.”

“somebody’s gotta watch out for the little guys,” he murmured as if you couldn’t hear. and those words, stuck in the back of your mind for the rest of the day.

somebody’s gotta look out for the little guys, huh?

italy, 6:34 p.m.

it was dusk, by the time you had left again. hours before, peter parker had walked you to your hotel, where you weren’t surprised to find betty missing. likely with ned, peter had scoffed. you nodded, shrugging. at least you has some peace to yourself. you had shared an awkward moment before he left; he had gone in for a side-hug, while you had expected a full-on one. this had both of you struggling to find a comfortable way to meet, before you settled on a less-than-shitty … fist bump. yeah. a fist bump.

you groaned at the memory, shaking your head. you needed something to clear your head. and that ‘something’ was a boat ride!

you wove through the busy streets, eyes glued onto the boat-stop, humming with delight as you watched one pull into view and –

“rose, lovely?”

you jolted once more, struck into reality as a man in a cap resembling a beanie held out a singular red rose. you shook your head, cursing yourself for not avoiding the packed walkways.

“american, yes?” he tried again, signaling the flower in his hand with the dip of his head.

opening your mouth to offer a curt reply, you instead felt a familiar hand on your shoulder. “um – hi, sorry to interrupt, man. y/n?”

you quickly spun to see peter parker behind you, yet again. “peterrr … hi!!” you quipped, a fake grin splat on the panes of your face.

“hey,” he smiled back, sliding his fingers from your shoulderblade to your hand, entwining them with yours. “let’s get our boat, yeah?” he gave your hand a gentle tug towards the dock, his other occupied with a small pale bag, making a point to raise the one holding yours just enough for the capped boy to see. and, though you shouldn’t have, you squeezed his palm just a little tighter. to remind the fluttering of your heart, that it was real.

when you sat on the slick bench of he raft, peter, alarmed by the pools of water on said bench, shrugged his jacket off, swiftly placing it where you were aiming just before you took your seat. you gave him a quizzical look, to which he replied, “i just – i just didn’t want your jeans to be ruined! they’re pretty.” his voice wavered, soft.

his little display of respect had you over the moon. and though everyone else was out of sight, you hadn’t let go. side by side, hands clasped, the two of you seemed to look opposite ways. you towards the city lights, and peter towards the open waters. but, in reality? you were looking at each other when the other turned away. it was like a game of whack-a-mole, to catch one another red handed. the few times your eyes met, you felt your skin ignite.

the entire ride, not a word was exchanged. but you never moved away. you would feel the occasional squeeze to your hand, which you would respond with one of equal gentleness. They seemed to communicate, ‘is this okay?’

it was short, sweet, the crossing not lasting anything more than ten minutes. when you stepped out, you seemed frozen. his irises, illuminated by fairy lights, were so sweet, like pools of milk chocolate.

but, nothing good lasts forever. the worker on the boat coughed once. twice.

right; money.

you slid your hands into your pockets, grabbing from your wallet … but the boat as gone as soon as you looked back up. peter was sliding a wrecked, leather-bound square back into his pants. you sighed deeply, rolling your eyes. “oh, please. you couldn’t have let me pay you back at least once?”

“pay me back for what?” he asked innocently.

you scoffed, dropping the wallet back where it came. “yeah, yeah, mister hero …” you shook your head, though you could feel tingles of a smile warping the edges of your lips. he had let got of your hand to pay, and though it did not find yours again, you could feel the ghost of his touch linger on your skin. “we have got to stop meeting like this,” you added, referring to the assistance he offered you. two times, now, had he led you away from odd men in this foreign land.

peter shrugged, fiddling with the handle of his paper bag. “at least i means we meet, somehow.” though his words came off as casual, there was a strain in his voice. as if he wanted to say more. “besides; if i didn’t turn out, where else would you be?”

rolling your eyes, your eyes followed the sun, watching it sink below the horizon. “i had it covered …” but, upon seeing his face drop a fraction, you felt yourself soften like warm wax. “okay, maybe i didn’t. you saved my ass, i admit it.” you rose your hands in surrender, a tight-lipped beam lighting your face.

he seemed to perk right up, like a dog receiving praise, posture straightening with delight. you could practically envision a wagging tail.

and you didn’t mind it, when your fingers drifted into his once more as you led each other back to where your class was gathered.

italy, 2:12 a.m.

you kicked your feet beneath the thick bedsheets, the absence of your friend hitting you like a ton of bricks. originally, the two of you planned to stay up late in face-masks, drinking smoothies and eating chocolates. but, where was she now?

with her new boyfriend, obviously. and thor knew how the hell betty managed to sneak into his room.

actually – never mind. your teachers were too much of a deadbeat, to pay attention to the lot of you the middle of the night.

you wrestled with the duvet for a few more moments, both hot and cold wrecking your body. blanket on? too hot. blanket off? too cold. how did people even manage, in such conditions?

you felt your feet touch the fuzz of your slippers as you swung up, laced night-dress crinkling against linen. you wanted to sleep, so badly, yet it never came. each time you closed your eyes, stars would appear, and you would replay your walk home with peter in your head. it was all so strange. you had met only today, really, and it felt like he was your ‘soulmate.’

or, maybe it was you trying to convince yourself that things could work out between you and the coffee-eyed boy.

you kicked your legs, emitting soft thuds to the mattress, unsure of what to do. you’d tried listening to ambience between the time of 1:34 to 1:56, but that didn’t seem to work, though it often times did. you also attempted the classic, ‘counting sheep.’ but, when does that ever really work. you even got so distracted, that you had begun to name the damned sheep that were jumping over your little imaginary fence.

your personal favorites were sir mcwooly and baaa-rney.

toddling over to the small desk by the hotel’s queen’s bed, you rubbed your arms, feeling the goosebumps spiking up on your skin. you sat on the swiveling chair, the small lamp as blinding as the sun when you turned it on. you seethed, squinting as you made a grab for the miniature sketchpad and pen assortment you had packed

you scribbled away, filling pages with tiny stars, before your hand began to flow out portraits of your friends. first, betty; with her shining blonde hair, her sugar-sweet grin. you doodled her and ned, despite the small crack in your heart at the thought of them so happy together. you drew them on the flight together, when you had been kicked out your seat to sit behind them, watching the new couple giggle through the cracks. you added little notes, complaining about their mushiness, about how empty they made you feel.

Needless to essay, the page was ripped from the booklet.

your pen found it’s way to paper once again, this time, the lines forming the familiar silhouette of peter. you started with his doe-brown eyes, making emphasis on the shining in them, the familiarity. though you enjoyed drawing each part of him, something about those eyes had you grounded to them. and it showed; when you were finished – or, more specifically, you noted how cliche you were acting – anyone could see the emphasis you’d placed on his irises. darker than all else in the portrait, white cut-outs of hearts and stars, if you looked close enough, bright against the ink.

you shook your head, gingerly, not to break the paper, tearing the page from the notebook. you set it aside, atop your previous project. the cold was getting to you; you were shaking like a wet dog, and, god, did you feel like you were sick. the small blotches of pen-gel on your hands didn’t help the look. it was like you were catching the plague.

padding for the suitcase propped against the wall, you dug through it, slipping a alpaca-fur sweater over your head. it would leave a mess of hairs, later, but in the moment, it was worth the suffering.

only issue was, your hands were still cold as ever. but you knew just what to do.

italy, 2:59 a.m.

the aroma of milk chocolate wafted through the room, the small kitchen’s floorboards creaking as you twirled and bobbed your head like a bird. you had your earbuds shoved deep into your ears, ramones blasting through the tiny speakers. you were careful to avoid the odd, slimy bits in the floor. though venice was a beautiful city, your academy didn’t seem inclined on letting the lot of you stay in a nice hotel.

whatever; the trip was free, anyways. you’d take what you could get.

you dipped your spatula into the thick, italian-style cocoa, buzzing with delight as you licked a speck of the liquid from your finger. heavy, yet delicious. even just a drop, was like a cup’s worth of flavor of those sad, little packets of hot-chocolate at home.

you poured a bit of the mixture into a small mug, surprised to find a good half of it left in the pot. you groaned, realizing that you did not, in fact, have a personal fridge to store the drink in for later. and you didn’t trust anyone from your class to not steal it from the hotel’s storage unit, if you chose to keep it there.

you’d have to gulp down the whole damned container. it was like sipping on melted-down icing.

you absent-mindedly poured the rest into a matching cup, grumbling at the spare dish you’d clean. you whispered the lyrics to the song playing through your ipod, foot tapping – rather noisily – on the old wood planks.

but, your peace was short-lived.

a small voice seemed to echo you, repeating the very lyrics you thought only you could hear. you pulled one of the buds out, head whipping about until you came face-to-face with peter, who was leant against the cracked doorframe, muttering to the very lyrics you were whispering.

you froze up, quarter-full pot in hand. like a deer in the headlights. “a ramones fan?” you squeaked out as soon as you remembered that you had a voice.

“yeah – yeah. they’re cool,” he replied with equal eagerness. though he made an attempt to look casual, the constant shift in position and blush staining his cheeks opposed it. “how many song d’you know?”

“not many. this just showed up on my playlist, i guess,” you clarified, not quite meeting his gaze.

“oh! that’s fine. music is kinda subjective. and the ramones aren’t exactly in style now, so –”

you cut the poor boy off with a chuckle, holding out a cup of chocolate to him. “now, don’t undermine your tastes over me. hell, i’d be happy to listen sometime.”

“really?” the panes of his face seemed to heighten with joy. “awesome. people don’t usually .. they don’t tend care about that, y’know?”

you nodded, letting go of the mug as he took hold if it’s handle, fingers brushing yours with a spark. “it’s the little things that matter, though. i mean, imagine having someone who just knows everything about you like that?”

he gazed into the cup with wonder, as if pondering your words. “yeah … i mean. it would be easier than having to explain every little thing to ned,” he stuffy joked, scratching at his neck (again; a habit, it seemed) as if there was a switch to turn his awkward energy off.

you gave a polite giggle, leaning over the dusty counter, drink in hand. this silence seemed to be a reoccurring thing between the two of you. you would look anywhere, but each other, until you caught one-another red handed in the act. each time your eyes met, you melted a little, seeing the warmth behind them. and a sprinkle of something else. something dark. lonely. sad.

peter cautiously swiped a tinge of chocolate from the inner rim of the pot, tasting it, with a hum of approval. he took a soggy paper towel off the rack, wiping his fingers free of the sweet treat, before clearing his throat once. twice.

you looked back up, watching him frantically digging through the pockets of his jeans; front left. front right. back left. back right.

… the item he was looking for was, actually, in his hoodie.

when he at last came across it, a wide grin spread across his face, a depiction of relief. you caught a glimpse of red, shining against the soft light of the kitchen lamp.

“turn around?” he pleaded, fiddling with … whatever it was.

though you weren’t sure if you could trust it, the innocent, hopeful look on his face had your knees weak. so you obeyed.

you nearly gasped as you felt warm, calloused hands caress your neck, shifting your hair over your right shoulder. and as, in contrast, a cool metal chain was placed around your throat. as he clasped it together, he seemed to linger there, hands unnecessarily raking through your strands.

not that you minded.

you took the jewelry – a necklace – between your fingers, heart puddling to find a rose made of red glass resting on your skin. “oh, pete … why?”

“i just – i-admire-you, you-know? i-mean,have-you-seen-how-you-work-in-decathlon? or-how-you-help-mrs. warren, even-though-she-can-be-a-little … difficult. not-that-she’s-bad! no! and, um. you’re-gorgeous. not-in-a-creepy-way, but – still. yeah.”

boy, was he out of breath. you could barely understand a thing he said. “peter … i seriously didn’t catch a word of that. slow down, yeah?”

his cheeks grew scarlet as he nodded. “i was just saying that i, kind of, admire you i guess?”

you blinked, fingers that were fidgeting with the bud now frozen. “you admire me? peter parker? well, i must’ve done something right,” you laughed – not quite understanding that his words were, actually, a confession, and not words similar to that of a student and a mentor.

you didn’t catch the grimace of disappointment that passed over his face.

“right … yeah. of course,” he assured, taking a large step back. did your breath smell? you pondered, shoulders tensing. but he only padded to the spare cup, giving you a look of inquiry – to which you nodded – as he picked the ceramic up, taking a swig from the thick drink. you grinned as he pulled away from the mug, upper lip lined with deep brown.

“you’ve got something there,” you quipped, jutting your chin towards his face. he took a swipe at his mouth, missing the small puddle by an inch or two. again. again. by the time he’d given up, you were struggling not to spill your hot chocolate as you guffawed. you tip-toed to his silhouette, napkin in hand, and quickly swiped the dessert off his skin. “there, dork. all fixed up,” you declared.

the smile on his lips quivered, as though to keep it from turning into a full-on, toothy smirk. you lingered, body soaking up the heat radiating off of him. how you longed to touch him, to feel his skin against yours. and oh, gods, how he smelled. warm apple pie, laced with fresh rain.

you wondered if he tasted just as sweet.

but you couldn’t think that way. you shouldn’t have. what you wanted, what you knew, was nothing more than a fantasy. you only ever watched peter parker from the sidelines. hell, you didn’t know what his favorite food was. his favorite colors. all you knew was his favorite subject, how he tugged at his curls while we was stressed. the way he bounced his leg as your teacher spoke, pink lip tugged between his teeth. though, you could never really tell if he was really focusing; the boy’s eyes were always glossy, clouded. like he wasn’t really there. at this point, you were confident he lived inside his laptop screen.

except for the fact that he answered every damned question he was asked.

seriously, it had you rethinking your own intellect.

you didn’t grin back, your own foolishness taking a toll on your mood. you stumbled your way to the sink, his heat leaving your body feeling empty. setting your mug down with a clunk, you couldn’t meet peter’s curious gaze. “i’ve – got to sleep. early day tomorrow, yeah?” your voice was weak, no matter how hard you tried to bring humor to it.

and as you tuned to leave, what you didn’t catch, was the crushed look on your love interest’s face.

the moment you had reached your hotel, you were rather dejected to see betty missing. you scoffed, face-planting on your side of the queen-sized bed, right hand unconsciously shooting up to protect the glass art around your neck from the harsh impact. you gripped it just a fraction tighter as you sighed into the pillows, the heaviness of silence dragging anxiety from the depth of your heart.

it took you a few minutes, to find the strength to get up. but when you did, you slipped into a silken night gown, wrapping your skin in a thick robe to protect it from the cold air. your face was slathered in a gray mask, hair pushed back by a baby-blue headband. you could feel the clay on your face drying, sending a strange tingling sensation through your flesh. ick.

your eyes welled with disappointment as you stared at yourself in the mirror. were you selfish, for wanting your best friend back? you were supposed to be doing this together, face-masks and all. but instead, you had been abandoned for some guy. you blinked back your worries, determined not to let your sullied mood ruin your almost perfectly dried clay. instead, you took a deep exhale, eyes trained on the knob of the hotel’s front door.

it was as if you had summoned it with your eyes; a sharp, quick knock at the dead of night.

you blinked, almost confident that you had been hearing things. but it came again, once. twice. three timed, before you approached it, scowling. if she was going to stay so long with her boyfriend, why come back now?

“you should have just stayed where you were,” you bit out as you swung the door wide open, huffing. your voice was venom, and deep down, you were sure you’d overreacted. but you were hurt. “really, bett! it’s – what – three in the –”

were betty’s eyes always such a deep shade of brown? you didn’t remember her hair being so short.

oh.

you blinked back your angry tears, wishing you could take each little word back. you’d been a fool, for lashing out at your friend – much less, the wrong one. you rubbed your eyes, barely missing the crusted clay inches beneath. “peter?” you coughed.

“bad timing?” he swallowed, taking a step back from the door; an offer to leave, if you so chose. you felt your heart crack, just a fraction, as you shook your head quickly, opening your door a bit wider.

“more like, bad situation,” you shrugged, far too embarrassed to look him in the eye. “what . . .” you continued, “what are you here for?”

peter’s mouth pinched, as if he was thinking carefully for his next line of words. “i got kicked out,” he finally admitted, a sheepish grin pulling at the panes of his face. “betty took my side of the bed, and i didn’t really want to listen to them flirt all night.”

you giggled, a warm rush coating your skin as you nodded. “you should have seen them earlier,” you replied, spirits lifted with his caring presence. “i couldn’t even get a hold of the girl, for god’s sake. she’s infatuated.” you took a deep breath. the memory wounded you, but it felt nice – to laugh about it with someone who understood. “did you . . want to come in?” you finally asked after a heartbeat, suddenly feeling self-conscious. you looked like a grizzly bear, in your fluffy turtleneck and your dark clay mask.

but he didn’t seem to mind. hell, little did you know, he thought you looked beautiful. sure, he enjoyed watching you from his seat in chemistry. enjoyed gazing at you as you bit your lip while working through an equation, or how you raked your hand through your hair idly, when your fingers had little to do. but above all, he enjoyed this the most. you, in your rawest, most natural state.

“yes. yes, please,” he quipped, slipping past you, into your dimly lit hotel. you trailed after him, the air far heavier than it had been moments ago. what were you to do? the boy you’d been eyeing for ages now stood in the center of your room, looking lost and helpless.

sucking on a tooth, you sighed, “just . . . sit, yeah?” you pulled out the office chair to your right, rolling it just behind him, like the gentleman (gentlewoman, you supposed) you were. “i’ve got to wash this—“ you gestured to your skin, caked in product, “—off my face.”

you excused yourself with a forced grin, despite the butterflies in your stomach. even if you were happy, you were far more bashful than anything else. you gazed into the mirror as you shut the bathroom door behind you, noting the texture of your skin, the dryness of your lips, the bags beneath your eyes. you looked like the devil herself, ruined and exhausted.

you gently scrubbed the mask off, turning the mini-towel you had brought a light grey, so as not to irritate your skin. you didn’t want to teeter out looking like a seeded strawberry.

once your skin shone with water, not a trace of dirt beneath, you dug through your bag for a plethora of items; chapstick, moisturizer, a nightgown, a hairbrush . . . it took you little over twenty minutes, to took anything like the girl you were, this morning.

slipping out the washroom, you tugged at the sleeves of your nightgown, the beige a contrast to the deep red trousers he had chosen.

“so!” you clapped, falling back onto the plush mattress of the hotel bed. “you can take the bed, and i will take the . . . couch.” though it was soggy, and looked a strange color, you couldn't bear the guilt of making him sleep on it. he’d already been kicked from him own room, for christ’s sake.

you had expected relief to wash over his face, but instead, he panicked. “no. no! i can’t let you do that,” he gave you a pointed look, his eyes darting between the cushions and you. “i intruded. i’ll take the couch,” he announced, sitting up a bit straighter.

you were having none of it. “oh, please. you cured my loneliness. i wasn’t the one who got kicked out of my own hotel, was i?”

the brunette’s lips tightened, as though he was about to give in. you watched him hopefully, your tummy fluttering with absolutely glee as a sigh loosened. “yeah. yeah, okay.” he broke out in a grin, and though it looked sweet . . . mischief lurked beneath it. “if,” he continued, peter’s nervous aura replaced with a sly air, “and only if you’re willing to share. i know those couches suck, probably full of germs and mold . . .”

you cringed, remembering the soggy floorboards and furniture of the foyer. did you really want to sleep on . . . that? you could already feel the stale, reeking water encasing your arms. shaking your head, you finally replied. “you’re . . . awfully stubborn. fine. only because i can’t stand the smell.”

the boy before you, however, seemed taken aback, cheeks glowing a red hue. had he not expected you to agree? you stifled a giggle behind a cough, padding to the bed, testing the springs of the mattress with your fingers. “are you tired?”

“very,” he admitted, wincing. “being out all day . . . yeah.”

“right.” guilt washed over you. it was your fault, wasn’t it? you had wanted to explore, and he complied, for your benefit. you sat, patting the space to your right. “please, sleep. i’ll be in soon! i just need to text bett.”

he looked up at you curiously, honey-brown eyes sparkling in the dim light.

you giggled, resisting the urge to ruffle his already-messy hair. “i don’t want her coming back in te morning to a boy in my bed, with no explanation.”

“oh. oh.” his expression as it kicked in, had you rolling. he was distressed, burning up, his words incoherent and quick as lightning. you – gently – slapped his shoulder.

“get your mind out of the gutter, and go to bed,” you ordered, leaping to your feet to retrieve your phone. you could hear the rusting of duvets and sheets, as he settled in. and only then, did you let yourself really think. you had just invited your gods-forsaken crush to sleep in your bed. with you in it. you were so wound up in nerves, you didn’t even text your friend. you doubted she’d even come back, anyways.

so you simply stood there, for a few minutes, simply . . . watching. watching the way his lashes fluttered, the pattern of his breathing. he fell asleep widely fast, already steady and deep in his dreams. you tip-toed back, until you were slipping into the now-warmed cotton, humming in content. the sound of his breaths, his subtle heartbeat, lullied you to sleep like a sweet song.

the last thing you felt, that night, were his arms instinctively wrapping around your waist.

italy, 9:34 a.m.

it was cold, when you woke up. freezing, in fact. that human warmth from the night before . . . it was gone, but what did you expect? a romantic morning-after scene? you two hadn’t even kissed for christs sake.

you laid there, feeling defeated. had you just made things awkward, between the two of you? would you ever get to speak to one another again, or would he avoid you? but, eh wasn’t like that, was he? no, he was kind, and sweet. and he wanted to share, no? he offered, and you accepted. he couldn’t do this to you.

almost an hour passed before you got up, soles of your feet warm against the ice-cold flooring.

and that’s when you saw it. a single note, crumpled and messy, on your nightstand, amongst the pile of drawings – a few missing, you noticed. his.

oh, shit.

you picked up the sheet of paper, eyes scanning the pages, reading each syllable aloud to yourself.

“you know, it’s rude to draw someone without showing them. i’m awfully offended, and am keeping these!

. . . not because i don’t like them. i love them. a lot. god, you’re talented. they’re cute.

i would have stayed. i wanted to. but i had an emergency, from mr. stark, and didn’t want to wake you with a call, y’know? please don’t be upset. i liked last night. i haven’t slept so well, in a while. maybe it’s a sign we should do it again? if you wanted? maybe?

– peter.”

perhaps this trip wasn’t so bad, after all, you decided as you tucked away the sheet. you’d keep it forever, if you could.

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