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#I'd be smiling like that too if I was making something that cool
dearaceofhearts · 3 days
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you walk out after an argument
characters: husk, alastor, angel dust, vox, lucifer word count: 2.9k genre: angst to fluff summary: after an argument with them, you walk out and don't come back for a few days. how do they react? author's note: hello yes this is my first time actually posting something. erm, i think i wrote too much (sorry) but hey we roll with it!! also dude i accidentally posted this before it was ready twice and i had a heart attack oh my god. anyways i don't think vox's is really fluff (oops) but everyone else's is
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♡ husk
when you slam the door shut on your way out, husk lets out a low grumble, setting down the glass he was cleaning onto the bar counter with a quiet sigh. it was one of the first arguments you'd had in a long time. although he wasn't usually one to get riled up so easily, the two of you knew each other well enough to know just what buttons to push to get under the other's skin. that, alongside him already having a bad day, had been a recipe for disaster.
in the few days that pass by, it's hard to tell just how affected he is by your absence since he does a pretty good job of keeping a cool facade. to anyone looking, he wouldn't appear any different than usual, just idly cleaning bottles as he always does.
but it's the small things that give away just how much husk cares and worries for you, like how his eyes flicker towards the door whenever someone comes in, his ears perking up slightly. he hates the twinge of disappointment that follows when it's not you, a slight scowl curling at his lips as he takes a swig of alcohol from one of the many bottles on the shelves of the bar. he misses talking to you. you're his favourite drinking buddy, after all.
his gaze always seems to wander back to the front door of the hotel, lingering for just a little too long before he eventually turns back to the bar, expression settling back into its usual grouchiness. but underneath that lies a hint of worry that gnaws at him in the back of his mind, even though he knows you're more than capable of handling yourself. at the end of the day, you can never be too careful in hell.
husk won't force you to come back, but he just wants to know that you're safe and sound. he trusts that you'll come back when you're ready so that the two of you can talk it over and hopefully resolve things. he doesn't want to leave it like this, and he's sure you don't either. you mean a lot more to him than he'd like to admit.
when you decide to finally return to the hotel, he pauses upon catching sight of you stepping through the doorway. he can't help the small wave of relief that washes over him, though you wouldn't be able to tell by the way he smoothly resumes restocking the bar. when you approach the counter, he looks up, giving you a short nod. "hey." he greets you, tone surprisingly softer than you're used to, "you're back."
husk's not really the type to beat around the bush, so he'd likely address the argument pretty quickly. he's also not particularly one for verbal apologies, so he'd probably be more willing to show it through his actions. you see it in the way he lets you cling to him a little longer than he normally does, leaning into him as he wordlessly holds you, his tail loosely curling around your leg. if you listen closely, you can hear some faint purring, too. it makes you smile slightly.
"alright, 'nuff of this sappy stuff." husk grumbles after a few more moments, patting your back gently before pulling back. "i'd kill for a drink right now. care to join me?" he raises a brow, a familiar glint in his eyes as he slides back behind the counter, already moving to make what he knows is your favourite drink.
you grin as you meet his eyes, expression softening. "of course. i'd love nothing more."
♡ alastor
"you're not listening, al." you murmur, exhaling quietly. this makes him pause for a moment, head tilted. your voice sounds different to what he's used to — you're not even angry, no — you just sound... tired. the argument had been going on for a while, and neither of you were getting through to the other.
when you move to leave, he makes no move to stop you, simply watching you with an intent gaze. his voice rings out clear as day in the empty silence. "where do you think you're going, my dear?"
he falters ever so slightly when you turn back to face him with a sturdy, stern gaze, responding with a flatly spoken "out", leaving no room for anything more to be said before closing the door behind you with a quiet click.
alastor won't chase after you, because he expects that you'll come back to him of your own accord. to him, it's basically guaranteed how this'll play out. he's used to demons falling right into his hands without having to exert much effort on his end, and believes that this would be no different.
so when a few days pass by with you not approaching him at all, he finds himself slightly irritated and mildly perplexed, eyes narrowed as his clawed finger taps against his cane with idle impatience. why haven't you sought him out yet?
he's seen you around the hotel, but you've never once acknowledged his presence even if the two of you were in the same room, breezing past him while he's left staring, watching you converse with everyone except him. his eye twitches in irritation, the perpetual smile on his lips strained.
...eventually, after playing a long waiting game to no avail, he decides that perhaps rosie would be able to offer some helpful advice on how to approach this situation, since he's not used to actually handling delicate emotional matters without the— well, the manipulation and deal-making.
one of the main issues is his massive ego. it's that unfaltering pride that gets in the way of him apologising. he may be the radio demon, but all that power can't help him here. and he'd never openly admit to such, but he truly is at somewhat of a loss here. he's already tried most things that he's sure would usually make you forgive him, though for a reason unbeknownst to him, it's not working this time.
"oh alastor," rosie shakes her head with a small huff, "a lady's heart is to be treated with care." she lends some further words of wisdom and encouragement that he listens to with great attentiveness, since he does (begrudgingly) enjoy your company, and it would be a shame if it was lost over such a, in his eyes, trivial matter.
upon his return to the hotel, he manages to get you to sit down with him (after much polite pestering and insistence) to have a chat over some tea. when all is said and done, the two of you sit in a comfortable silence. you sip your tea, watching the blazing fires of hell from the balcony.
"refill?" alastor offers, glancing at you briefly through a sip of his own tea.
"much appreciated." you hum, legs crossed as you throw him a small, slack smile.
♡ angel dust
his frustration slowly fizzles out as the door closes behind you, and the guilt slowly starts to creep in. he knows he shouldn't have said what he did, and he wants nothing more than to apologise and make it up to you — but he understands that it's probably better to give you some time to cool off before trying to approach you again.
despite the argument and the harsh words exchanged between you, the fact that he cares for you with his whole heart will never change, and he hopes you know that too.
while you're away, angel always finds his thoughts drifting to you, wondering how you're doing. are you eating okay? are you drinking enough? sleeping enough? with a shake of his head and a small sigh, he tries his best to return his focus back to the task at hand, whatever it may be.
he knows you can take care of yourself perfectly fine, but he just... misses you. the guilt eats away at him when he's reminded of the look on your face when you left, the brief glimmer of hurt in your eyes before you masked it with anger and tore your gaze away.
one particular night, angel heads over to your room in the hotel out of habit, not really thinking about it when he raises a fist to knock on the door. he had been hoping to spend some time with you, since today had been a particularly rough day for him. he's also been craving for one of your sleepover nights for a while, those nights where you two would stay up to talk about anything and everything until dawn rises. those times were comforting for him — a rare moment of respite in his life.
but then he stops abruptly, remembering that you're not there. he lets his hand fall back to his side, expression quietly downcast. he stands alone in the silent, empty hallway. has it always been this cold?
after a few days, he's just about damn ready to go looking for you, making his way down the stairs as he prepares to head out. he's so focused that he almost misses the sight of you seemingly casually sitting at the bar, nursing a drink in your hands whilst exchanging low murmurs with husk.
he freezes momentarily, taking a deep breath. while he mentally debates with himself whether to approach you or not, husk notices him hesitating on the staircase. he catches angel's gaze, giving him a subtle nod. that's all the affirmation angel needs.
he slides on his usual relaxed demeanour, though it's a little weaker than normal, as he approaches you. he's admittedly a little nervous, but he's determined to work things out with you. he puts a gentle hand on your shoulder to catch your attention. "hey, darlin'. can i talk to you for a minute?"
the two of you head back to your room, where heartfelt apologies are exchanged and a long overdue conversation takes place. at some point during the talk, his hand had found its way on top of yours, thumb brushing over your skin gently. at the end of it all, he gives you a small, content smile. "...baby, you have no idea just how much i adore you." he whispers into the quiet, running his fingers through your hair comfortingly as your head rests on his shoulder.
it was an unspoken agreement that tonight was going to be a sleepover night. prepare for lots of cuddling and gentle, soft kisses.
♡ vox
he's the type to go "ha, see if i care!" when you leave, but he'll still check on you occasionally through the various cameras and electronics around the city — he swears it's just because he's making sure the new limited edition voxtek product he had given to you isn't damaged.
(...it's totally because he's looking out for you, by the way. even if it's only a little. you are his darling, after all. and uh, you'll never know what happened to that guy who tried to hit on you that one time).
(vox made sure not even a trace of that bastard remained).
his obnoxious pride makes him reluctant to reach out first. that, and he's a petty little shit. so everyone around him, whether that be the other vees or his employees, is stuck dealing with his foul mood. he's become even more irritable and susceptible to lashing out than usual since you left.
he'd rather die than admit it, but you were a calming presence in his life that he hadn't realised he needed until you were gone. he hates just how much power you have over him, though you may or may not realise it. he's supposed to be the one in charge. when did you manage to sneak into his heart? his mind is occupied with thoughts of you.
and it only frustrates him more, because you're not here.
all his employees are left on edge, even more so when he takes his anger out on some poor soul who had gotten the numbers wrong on the report they handed in. "clean this mess up." vox snaps, glowering as he fixes the cuffs of his sleeves. the demon at the door hurriedly moves to do as he says, not wanting to risk meeting the same fate.
"what? what are you looking at?" he turns, eyes narrowing at the rest of the employees who flinch, hastily turning their eyes back to the screens in front of them. "get back to work." he mutters sharply, an unspoken threat in his words.
his volatile temperament goes on for a while, until velvette decides she's finally had enough and sends you a (not so) polite text to resolve your little lover's spat before she takes matters into her own hands.
meanwhile, vox is in his office. nothing seems to be going his way, and he's just about to blow another fuse when you nonchalantly throw open the doors, inviting yourself in. he freezes, staring at you for a few moments. you raise a brow. "...so. i heard you were throwing another hissy fit."
vox scowls at that, grumbling under his breath. "oh yeah? and what'd you come back for, you prissy little princess?" he sneers, clawed fingers digging into the desk with a quiet screech. "couldn't go without me for long, huh?"
"ha. you wish that was the case." you scoff, rolling your eyes with a half-amused, irked smile curling at your lips. things escalate into another argument pretty quickly, with the two of you at each other's throats. he towers over you, eyes narrowing as his grin widens in mild irritation.
it's a back and forth for quite some time, until you get sick of it and grab him by the collar of his shirt, yanking him closer until you're glaring at one another face to face. "what the fuck do you think you're—" he starts, but he's quickly cut off when your lips crash into his. vox is stunned for a few moments but soon snaps out of it, swiftly returning your kiss with equal, if not more, ferocity and intensity.
"finally got you to shut up." you murmur, grinning as you part to catch your breath and release his shirt from your grasp. before you can pull back completely, however, his hand reaches up to rest against the back of your neck, the other firmly on your waist. it takes another long, drawn-out kiss for him to finally let you go — though not really, since he's still holding you close in his arms.
"...that was hot." he whispers breathlessly, staring down at you with a somewhat satisfied glint in his eyes. but you both know that there's more to come.
suffice to say, the two of you sorted things out.
♡ lucifer
he would regret everything almost instantly. lucifer realises just how badly he fucked up when you leave without looking back. he's not even quite sure what happened as he stands alone in the room, blinking as he's left to process everything on his own. his mind is a jumbled mess, and he can't think clearly.
all he can feel is a suffocating rush of fear as he snaps out of his daze and hurries after you, desperate to find you before you're gone. he doesn't want to take his chances. what if you don't come back? what if—
he had said things that he didn't mean, and now the weight of it all feels crushing on his shoulders. he's torn between wanting to reach out to apologise and giving you time to cool down. he doesn't want to be a bother, but also really wants to make things up to you.
most of all, he just wants reassurance that you'll come back to him and that he hasn't messed things up for good. he doesn't want to lose you. you're too precious to him for that, and he's mentally kicking himself for ever making you question your importance to him for even a second.
thankfully, you haven't gone too far so he's able to catch up to you, taking a hold of your wrist firmly. however, when you turn to look at him, he falters, the words dying in his throat. he swallows, softly clearing his throat as he scrambles to say something, anything to stop you from leaving. to reaffirm his love for you.
"...sweetheart, i'm so sorry," he whispers, expression twisted and heart heavy with remorse and sorrow as he brings you close, grip subconsciously tightening because he's afraid to let you go. "i'll do anything, i'll make it up to you, i—" he trails off, burying his face into your shoulder, "just, please... don't leave. i'm sorry."
you really can't stay mad at him for too long after seeing his genuine sincerity. he acknowledges his wrongs, wanting nothing more than to make up for his mistakes and make you feel as appreciated and cared for as you've made him feel over the course of you two knowing each other. you sigh gently, thumb lightly brushing over his cheek. "...alright, silly. let's go home."
his eyes light up at that, and he's reminded of just how grateful he is to have you here by his side as you guys make your way home together. he holds your hand the entire time.
after the two of you make up, you find that he'll leave little gifts and cute trinkets around for you despite your gentle assurances that he doesn't have to. he also gives you lots of forehead kisses. he just wants to make sure you never forget how much he loves you, and that you mean the world to him.
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© dearaceofhearts ー all rights reserved. please do not steal, use or modify my works!
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jaylver · 17 days
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WEBS OF HURT — S.JY
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synopsis: Falling for your best friend wasn't on your check list for high school. As if that wasn't enough to break your heart, his odd behaviour only added fuel to the fire along with a new crush of his. Who knew that odd behaviour would soon turn into a secret truth that you'd discover after his valiant effort of hiding.
pairings: spiderman!jake x afab!reader
genre: best friends to lovers, unrequited love, miscommunications, spiderman au, angst, romance, fluff
warning(s): profanities, mentions of alcohol, party, violence, injury
wc: 10k
a/n: tried something new! a little birthday gift from me <3 please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx
masterlist | © jaylver all rights reserved.
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Falling in love with your guy best friend was probably the worst thing ever to experience when it came to girlhood.
High school should be fun, right? Being a teenager should be fun, right? Well, that wasn't exactly the case when you found yourself feeling more than just a mere liking towards Jake Sim, the guy best friend you mentioned and was entirely, love sickeningly, in love with. 
Jake Sim was the first guy you actually built a solid friendship with. It first started when he sat beside you in calculus, then you realised you had more classes with him and a friendship eventually developed when you started acknowledging each other. One class together soon turned into years spent with one another. You knew his family and he knew yours. Nothing could ever break the bond between you and him.
You just couldn't help but notice a slight change in him after the death of his uncle, Ben. At first, you figured it might've been grief, trying your best to offer your utmost support. But as months flew by, the oddness persisted. He would disappear in between classes, sometimes standing you up at places you were at together and returning a little scathed, making it up to you by promising for a redo hang out. All of that was weird. Let's not get started on the fact he caught your stuff falling way too many times, even when his head was faced away, his hand would reach out first. In his words, he called it his 'spidey sense', whatever that meant.
However, you never doubted him. He was still the best friend you had, even if he had some tweaks to him. You never once questioned him or brought up your suspicions, but this time, you couldn't help yourself from bombarding him with questions when he broke the news to you.
"I think I have a crush," Jake announced the moment he was in your presence, sounding a little out of breath considering he made a run to the cafeteria. The tray of food was untouched, quite unlike him since he always dug into his food first.
"You 'think'?" You hummed, ignoring the mixed feelings you had blaring loudly. 
"Okay, I know I have a crush," he has yet to start eating, just staring expectantly at you, eyebrows furrowed at the nonchalant and dismissiveness in your tone. 
"You're being for real?" You finally turned your head to meet his eyes, placing your fork down. 
"I am! I think it's kinda crazy," his eyes twinkled, something quite rare but only you knew, like a comet in the sky. 
"Who is it?"
"Gwen,"
"Gwen? Gwen Stacy?" You swallowed back a frown that was itching to make its way to your lips, masking it with your best shot of shock instead of disappointment. Of course it was the golden girl, what a cliche plot.
He nodded, a small smile rested on his face as he started digging into his food. "We … talked? Talked about some science things, about Oscorp, about the things she's working on. Oh yeah, she said there's this party on Saturday and wondered if I wanted to go, I said I wanted to bring a friend and she's cool with it,"
"I assume I'm that friend, then?" You poked at your food, suddenly losing your appetite as the conversation progressed.
"No, it's Carlos—of course it's you, dumbass," he flicked at your forehead, earning a firm scowl from you. "You're my best friend, my only ever, I'd be insane to think otherwise,"
You chewed at your lips, not because you were contemplating whether you should or shouldn't go, but it was mainly due to the word 'best friend' that got your attention. There goes your hope down the drain. First, being told your best friend who you have a crush on already has his eyes on someone else, then, getting friendzoned by that same exact guy, all in one shot. It's brutal out here.
"So what do you say?" Jake's voice broke the momentary silence, noticing your dazed expression. You snapped out of it almost immediately.
"I'll go,"
"Really?"
"Do you want me to say no instead …?" You raised an eyebrow, watching him scrambling at your words.
"N–no! I'm just shocked and very glad you agreed to come," he managed a laugh, which turned into a smile. 
"Am I going to get ditched that night because you want to get your dick wet?"
Jake scrunched his face up in a look of disgust. "Can you not? I don't need you to say that. And no, I'm not going to ditch you,"
"I'm holding you to it."
Jake shot you a wink, earning a figuratively loud eye roll from you. His laughter filled your ears, and though you managed a smile, you found yourself feeling the opposite internally. You knew you shouldn't feel this way, it's not like you were even in a relationship with him in the first place. But God, why did it hurt so bad?
Who told you friends to lovers was cool when it was unrequited and one sided all along.
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"You know, you look good either way,"
Jake Sim was sitting on the edge of your bed watching you put on makeup and getting ready. It was a few hours before the party and Jake had turned up looking nervous, wearing that lucky graphic tee of his that you recognised quickly. Your teasing definitely didn't make him smile, and you soon realised that the crush he had was actually serious.
You glanced at him, raising an eyebrow despite feeling the giddiness from the effects of his nonchalant words. He has to stop that. "Are you trying to butter me up to get me to move quicker?"
"Whaaat? No way. You genuinely look good whether or not you have makeup on, seriously," he was genuine, you could tell, but you knew him better than anything. It was quite a fatal flaw.
"Give me ten minutes to finish the other eye then we can leave."
At that, Jake sighed in relief and fell back onto your bed, kicking his legs patiently. He couldn't stop talking about the party and the people who'd be there, but honestly, you could tell he was just trying to not bring up Gwen at any given moment. Knowing that, you wished the mascara wand would just poke into your eye, maybe it'd hurt less compared to how your heart felt.
"Does my shirt look lame—"
"Dude, shut up," just before you and Jake entered the house, he was asking for another reassurance. First, it was his hair, then his shoes, and every other piece of clothing, leaving his shirt for last. It took everything in you to not punch him along the way there. "I swear, no one will care. If anything, isn't that your lucky shirt?"
"It is my lucky shirt. But whether or not that lucky shirt looks good, that's the case," he glanced down at his graphic shirt, a picture of a rock band from the 2000s staring back at him.
"Trust me, if it's ugly, I would've asked you to change, now shut up and get your ass in there before I leave you here," you huffed and continued walking, hearing him mutter something before catching up with you. 
Upon entering the house, you figured it was as underwhelming as you expected. The smell of sweat and flavoured smoke filled the air, high school students lingered around as the music blasted. You should've probably stayed home.
"So, you got your pick up lines ready?" You thrusted a cup of fruit punch into his hands, tilting your head in question. 
Jake rolled his eyes. "I'm afraid Google has failed me on that one," he looked around the room, shoulders tense.
"Calm down, big guy. You're acting like you're being hunted down. She's not that scary," you patted his shoulders as he took a swig out of his cup.
"Not scary? Says the one without a crush,"
How ironic.
You brushed it off, finding yourself taking a big gulp as well. He was oblivious and you were just stupid. Stupidly in love with your best friend who has his eyes set on another girl. Perfect.
"I think I see her," you followed his line of sight, spotting a blonde in the midst of the crowd almost immediately. She made her way through, parting the mass with a certain grace to her aura. 
Jake looked back at you, a mix of conflict written in his features. You read him well, too well. You offered a smile. "Go, go talk to her. Just text me when you're leaving, okay? You said you're not going to ditch me,"
"I won't," he laughed, but there was a certainty in his tone. 
"Then go, what are you waiting for? I'm expecting a whole loads of information by the end of the night," you gave him a slight push, but you could see the small reluctance he had. "Go!" Off he went into the crowds and gravitated towards her. 
You couldn't bear to witness it all, watching him leaning down as she laughed into his ear. The feeling of bitter jealously coursed through your veins, it was evil, so evil, but you couldn't help it. At the end, you had to remind yourself, he wasn't yours in the first place. He wasn't yours to lose.
Turning your back to them, you sat alone in a stranger's kitchen and fought off the temptation of getting drunk. Instead, you indulged in the leftover pizzas left on the counter, letting a random girl join you and overshare secrets. Wallowing in self pity was probably not what you had in store for the night.
Almost as fast as you had arrived, it was already past midnight in a blink of an eye. You realised your curfew was around the corner and it was time to signal Jake to leave too. Glancing at your phone, you were surprised to see zero messages from your best friend. Weird.
You stepped out of the kitchen and into the living room, seeing a bunch of people passed out at the oddest spots, only a few still awake. One of them was surprisingly Gwen, the goody two shoes you had in mind was actually staying up past your curfew. You heaved a distressed yet exasperated sigh, walking towards her. 
"Hey, Gwen," you hoped she remembered you, considering you were in the same Chemistry class as her.
"Oh, hey. Y/N, right?" She flashed you a sweet smile, and it was painful to know how likeable and nice she was. You couldn't even bring yourself to hate her. 
"Right. Sorry for interrupting, but have you seen Jake around? The last time I saw him was with you," you unknowingly chewed on your bottom lip anxiously, taking the frown on her lips as a bad sign.
"He left," that was the least expected thing you anticipated as a response.
"He … left?" You repeated incredulously, almost as if she hadn't made it clear enough for you.
"Yeah, he suddenly said he needed to leave … in the middle of our conversation. An emergency or something. Kinda weird but kinda cute," she laughed, but you were holding back a disdainful scowl, reserved for both Jake and her, but most specifically Jake Sim. "Why? Were you with him?"
You bit back an immediate reply. As much as you wanted to say 'yes', you didn't want to blow off his chance either. "No, just … checking. He said he was coming tonight,"
"Oh, I see," 
"Yeah," you nodded rather stiffly and awkwardly. "I'll get going now, thanks,"
"See ya, Y/N. Until our next class," she gave you a salute, a melodious laugh escaping her lips.
You couldn't resist a smile either, saluting her back. There was a charm to her that affected people, it was understandable that Jake was charmed, but you hated to know that, and you did not want to understand it. For now, he was dead to you, just like how he has left you to yourself in the middle of a party at midnight. Was he Cinderella? Glad to know you weren't the only one who he pulled the disappearing act on. 
Clutching onto your jacket tight, you cursed every cuss words there were under your breath, all of which were dedicated to Jake. He had the audacity to leave without even leaving you a text, and that got you walking home in the dangerous night of New York City. Thanks a fucking lot. To say you were seething was an understatement.
You hated the streets of New York especially at night. To prove your hatred further, you just had to be at threat of an armed robbery there and then. 
"Hey! You there!" A dark figure approached from a distance, pointing at you. Oh God. "Got some money on you?" This couldn't be happening. 
"N–no," you said quietly, backing up quickly. His footsteps thundered loudly against the pavement, seemingly getting closer. 
"Don't lie, I see that purse on you,"
"I'm a broke high school student, leave me alone!" Was it sad to say that you were yelling the brutal truth to him?
"I don't care. Give me your purse—" his threat almost had you running in the opposite direction, but his sentence was never finished. Instead, a sharp unfamiliar noise shot through the silence, and a second figure in the distance appeared. That wasn't his partner, right?
Panic coursed through you, and yelling out was most likely the worst idea you had in ages. "Hello?" 
Silence. 
"Hello? Can I leave now?" 
"Yeah, you can," the figure walked under the lamp post, revealing himself. 
Spiderman? 
Clad in red and a mask over his head, he stepped towards you ever so casually, whereas you stood there absolutely stunned to even move. It wasn't an everyday occurance where you could personally meet the hero in flesh. The media might've painted him as some criminal, but to you and many other citizens, you knew that wasn't the truth.
"Spiderman," you greeted, anxiety lowered knowing you weren't getting robbed now. "Thanks for—that," you waved in the direction of where the man originally was.
"No worries," you noticed his voice seemed familiar, but before you could think more about it, he spoke with a sudden deeper octave. "It's—uh—not safe out here. What are you doing here anyway?"
"Well, for starters, my friend left me at a party that we were supposed to leave together without telling me, and now I'm walking home alone, until I almost got robbed," it was clear that anger and bitterness laced your voice, a deep frown etched on your face as you told Spiderman your concerns.
"Sorry," his voice became lighter, somehow sincere, which made you tilt your head in question. "I–I mean, sorry that he did that to you," he cleared his throat, straightening his spine and returning back to that deep voice. 
"I don't know what's up with him. He could've left me a text," 
He muttered something inaudible under his breath, then turned his focus back on you. "I'm sure he's very sorry, and maybe he's got a reason too. Try hearing him out,"
"I will. I always do. I'm just hurt, it's complicated," 
"What? What do you mean complicated?"
You shrugged, hugging your purse close to your chest. "It's nothing. I don't think Spiderman will be interested in my matters with my best friend. I'll leave you to your hero stuff and head home now. Thanks for saving me and the 20 dollars in my wallet,"
"Well—I—wait," before you could fully turn around and leave, his hand landed on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks. "Let me walk you home. It's not safe,"
"Wouldn't it be weird if I turned up at my apartment lobby with Spiderman?" You crossed your arm, making quite a fair point. 
"You're right. What about I give you a swing?"
"What?"
Swinging around New York City was definitely an unforgettable but scary experience. You clung onto Spiderman, screaming like a madwoman as he had his arm wrapped around your waist. The touch was as familiar as his voice, hard to put a finger on but almost feeling like you've known him for years. 
You were about to point out your apartment but he had already beat you to it, not even needing you to tell you which floor or window it was, landing on the fire escape right in front of your bedroom window. That just further proved your familiarity towards him. 
He pulled your window open, signalling you to head in, but you were stuck staring at him, both in shock from the swing and the way he knew your place. 
"How did you—"
"Bye! Goodnight!"
You watched as he avoided your question and shot a web out to swing to some other building, leaving you stunned. How were you going to recover from this?
10/10 experience. Spiderman might just be your casual crush to get away from the thoughts of Jake. 
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'BREAKING NEWS: bank robbery in downtown last night caused a chaotic and frantic disturbance, luckily, Spiderman was there to save the day and catch the robbers before anything major happened. Is he really as bad as they make him to be?'
The news of Spiderman saving a bank from a robbery right before your personal near robbery experience had you amused. The videos of him beating up the robbers and using his webs to tie them up were going viral all over the internet, even people in school were talking about it.
You were standing at your locker, digging for some textbooks before class started when Jake Sim himself appeared beside you. His presence was announced before he even spoke, but you didn't bother to spare him a glance.
"Y/N, I'm so so sorry about last night," he was heaving in breaths, as if he had ran across the school to find you, maybe he did.
"Oh, were you?" You clicked your tongue, suddenly finding the random piece of paper in your locker fascinating. 
"I am. Seriously, Y/N. I know I'm an asshole for that, I'm sorry for not texting you earlier and letting you know—"
"Jake, this isn't the first time you bailed on me," you cut him off, slamming your locker door close and turning to face him. The bruise beside his right eye caught your attention, and suddenly, your anger seemed to have sizzled away. "What the hell happened to your eye?"
It has become a common practice by now apparently. Jake disappearing and turning up with some kind of injury. Like always, he just brushed you off. "It's nothing, don't worry. It's not about me, it's about you. I fucked up this time and I know it, I'm sorry. An emergency with Aunt May came up a–and I had to go home early, I was too caught up in the moment to let you know. I'm sorry, really,"
You considered his apology for a moment. He was sincere, you knew that, but there was a certain dishonesty to his explanation. However, you didn't want to press on further either. "I understand. You probably always have a reason, it's just that I hate it when you disappear on me without telling me. I almost got robbed last night!"
It took him almost a few seconds to register, then another few more to compute a reaction. "What? Are you okay?"
"I'm standing here, aren't I? Spiderman saved my ass," 
"Spiderman?"
"Yeah, Spiderman. That guy who swings around New York. He saved me from some guy that was about rob me, because someone over here decided to leave early,"
"I'm sorry, okay? I'm just glad you're alright," 
"Well, thank fuck I am," you crossed your arms, staring pointedly at Jake. 
He dug something out of his backpack, a paper bag of some sort materialized in his hand. "I got you some of your favourite cookies and donuts. As a form of apology,"
You took the bag from him, glancing between him and it. "You can't just buy your way into an apology,"
"You accepted it, you took the bag," 
You rolled your eyes, unable to bite back. "Whatever," you reached in for a cookie and started walking away from your locker, hearing Jake scurrying to join your side.
"So, we're cool?"
You took a brief glance at him, taking a bite out of your cookie. "We are,"
Jake wasn't fully convinced, however. He knew you and your patterns, and he definitely knew which tricks to pull to make it better. "How about I treat you to some Chinese food tonight?"
That piqued your interest, an eyebrow raised at his question. "The one downtown?"
"That one,"
"You sure know how to get on my good side, Sim," you nudged his side, falling into one of his tricks once again. "Too well,"
"I know my ways to get to your heart, don't underestimate me," he said in a lighthearted tone, but God, you wished he would actually find his way into your heart. "Anyway, how was—uh—Spiderman, last night? Excusing your near robbery experience," he winced at the last part, though in reality, the accident hadn't shaken you as much as he had thought.
"He was nice! A little awkward but I kinda get it. He swung me back to my place, which was weird because he knew which window and level it was," you pursed your lips in deep thought, failed to realise the widened eyes from Jake and the panic that filled them.
"M–maybe, it was a wild guess," he said shakily.
"Wild guess? Don't bullshit me, Sim. A smart guy like you would know it's hard to do so," you waved him off, continuing to venture into your theories.
"Maybe he has some kind of sixth sense," he laughed rather stiffly, earning a suspicious narrowed stare from you. 
"Okay, big head, quit acting so weird. Let's just get calculus over with and then stop by that ice cream place after school, what do you say?" 
Jake's shoulders visibly relaxed, a sense of relief overtook his features. What was that about? "Sure. My treat,"
"God, Sim, you have to stop treating me or else I'll fall in love with you," you joked, even as it came out lighthearted, it was filled with a painful truth that you kept as a secret.
"Then fall in love with me."
You froze, almost unblinking. Something so intimate yet controversial had left his lips like it was nothing. It was probably nothing to him, maybe a mere joke even, considering how he let out a small laugh and smiled at your reaction. You tried to pretend it was nothing, but it wasn't nothing, not to you. 
For a second, you wished you weren't already in love with Jake.
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Trying to be happy for your best friend shouldn't be hard, but why were you struggling with it so much?
First, you were literally in love with him. Yes, you've come to the conclusion that you 'L' word him, the big 'L'. Seeing him list out the things Gwen likes and hates reminded you of yourself knowing him equally that much too, which only pained you more than it reassured you. Second, he has been hanging out with her more. Not that you were completely friendless and have no one to hang with, but Jake was Jake, he was your best friend, and losing your best friend was the worst thing to happen. 
You didn't lose him, no, but it felt like you had. He barely made time for you, being caught up with Gwen, dates and school work, how could he not manage to squeeze you in there? You've always made time for him no matter what the occasion was, so knowing he didn't do the same for you just had you dying internally. 
It was a quiet evening in New York. The sun had just set and you were walking home from grabbing an early dinner alone. This time around, you were smarter than the previous round. Armed with pepper spray and a pocket knife, you prayed on a shooting star that an unfortunate incident would never ever happen once more. 
You were practically in your own world to even realise or hear footsteps approaching you from behind. By the time you did, your fight or flight mode was activated, almost throwing out a punch, just to freeze upon figuring out who it actually was. Spiderman.
"Walking home alone?" He kept up with your pace as you recovered from a momentary fright.
"Stalking me?" You wondered how he even spotted you in the first place. In the big city of New York, he's coincidentally strolling down the same street as you? As if. "Scared me, you know? Thought it was another round of getting robbed,"
"I'd be there to fight them off if that happens," he said with utmost confidence that it had you laughing a little, shaking your head in disbelief. Why did he remind you of Jake? It's a sign you should stop thinking so much about him.
"Really? I kinda doubt it. Unless you're keeping an eye on me or something, stalker," you teased him, egging him on further. 
"I'm not stalking you," his tone gave away the withering confidence of his. You smiled, feeling his lingering gaze on your face. Maybe it was just your mind that's overthinking, but his mannerisms reminded you too much of your best friend. It was in the way he walked, talked and how he normally did this thing where he walked with you and cast glances at you from time to time. Every little detail that you wished you couldn't list out was a part of the city's hero. 
He cleared his throat, straightening his back, trying to rebuild that confidence he originally carried. "So … how are things between you and your friend?"
"The one that stood me up at the party?"
He choked a little, but regardless, he nodded his head. "Y–yeah,"
You couldn't hold in a sigh from escaping your lips. Just thinking about Jake had you huffing in frustration. Spiderman picked up on it, shifting slightly beside you. "I guess not … good? Haven't seen him much and he hasn't been bothering to hang out with me anymore. I mean, I get he's making moves but why can't he just manage a little time for me? Maybe I'm too selfish but—" he's not mine anyway. You bite your tongue, holding back what you really wanted to say. 
The hero beside you was silent for a bit, as if walking on eggshells and picking the best words to say. "I think he'd come around," he said slowly, "he'd say a couple of sorrys, and you should tell him what's on your mind. Let him know. He'll understand," 
You chewed on your bottom lips, considering the possibilities, but totally also not expecting to get advice from the Spiderman like it was some counselling session. "I know he'll listen. He always does. But I don't want anything to change between us,"
"Nothing will change," he said with a kind of certainty that even you didn't doubt. How did he know? Who was he to judge? You didn't say anything, but just nodded. You knew Jake wasn't the type to argue nor take your words lightly, but you shudder at the thought of a confrontation, not that it was your first with him, but it felt much more emotional this time.
"I hope so. I miss him—oh, my place is around the corner, I can manage myself," you stopped before a turn around the corner, Spiderman following suit. 
Standing before him only increased your curiosity about his identity. Who was he? He was hiding under a mask that shielded his face, but something about him seemed less foreign than expected. 
"O–oh, then I guess I should get away too. Swing around the city and see whose ass to beat," he laughed awkwardly, a hand automatically reaching for the back of his neck, just like something Jake would do too. You shook that thought away. "Goodnight … stranger,"
"It's Y/N," you didn't hesitate to tell him your name, he saved your life, a little information about yourself wouldn't hurt despite him being a total stranger still. "Goodnight, spider boy."
You turned around the corner, leaving the hero standing there, bewildered and helpless. It was hard to ignore the pit in your stomach that carved deeper and deeper. He reminded you too much of your best friend, and strangely, that was probably the reason why you felt gradually attached to him, a stranger that resembled the ghost of a guy you liked but couldn't have. 
The space of your apartment was dark and soulless once you stepped into it. Your parents worked late as always, meaning you were alone most of the time, and this was one of them. Maybe it was the atmosphere and the countless wishful thinking, but a sense of despair knocked on the door of your heart. 
By the end of the night, you laid awake in bed thinking about what Spiderman had said. Nothing will change. That was exactly what you wished for too, that your dynamic with Jake was never to change, but how was that to happen when he's got a girl around? Eventually, you're not just going to lose the guy you loved, but your best friend as a whole.
Your train wreck of thoughts were interrupted the moment you heard a knock on your window. That knock turned into a tune that you knew too well. Sitting up straight in bed, you spotted the figure standing by your window out on the fire escape. Jake. 
At this point, you weren't even going to figure out how he got up this high on the fire escape. It was one too many times of him avoiding your question and you ended up dropping the matter too. Yet, curiosity itched your mind. 
Unamused at the fact that he turned up at possibly the wrong timing, you dragged your legs over to the window, meeting his bashful gaze. He offered a crooked grin, but your narrowed eyes only shot it back into a frown.
"Explain to me why you're here? It's midnight, Aunt May would be worried about you," your window was opened now, but you stood in the way before he could climb through, an interrogative look of yours stared at him accusingly.
"I told her I'd be over at yours," he answered cheekily. "Just like the old times, eh?"
Judging from your unbudging stance and eyes practically shooting lazers, Jake knew he had struck a nerve that have been left untreated for far too long. He sighed a defeated breath, squeezing through forcefully and dropping his backpack onto the ground. 
"I know," he didn't need to say much, yet he conveyed more than needed. "I've been a shitty best friend,"
It was your turn to sigh. You shook your head, averted your gaze to the ground and stepped aside, giving him more space. "You know a 'sorry' alone won't cut it this time,"
He followed your every movement, joining you to sit on the edge of your bed, a small space in between separated you and him. "I know. But I really am sorry, Y/N. I mean it,"
"I just want you to be honest with me, Jake. I know you're busy, I know you're trying to get the girl of your dreams or whatever, good for you, but it feels like you've forgotten about me or something,"
"I didn't forget about you. How could I ever?"
"Well, then stop acting like it! A text would suffice," you stood up, back facing him just so you could hide your face from him and the tears welling up in your eyes. 
"Y/N," he grabbed a hold of your wrist, cold fingers wrapped around your skin, his touch ever so gentle. "I'm sorry. I know I fucked up … many times, and a single 'sorry' wouldn't make up all the hurt I caused you, b–but there's a reason why,"
"What is it then?" You whirled around to face him, the dark of the room casted a shadow over his face, bringing out the fatigue and injury on his delicate features. "What the fuck, Jake? Are you hurt again?"
"It's nothing,"
"You said it's nothing every time you turned up hurt, and I never ask many questions, but Jake, it feels like you're hiding something from me," your hand reached up for his face, hovering over the bruises and mild cuts on his lips and skin. "I don't know you anymore,"
Jake moved his face away a little, grabbing that hand of yours which hovered over his face, lacing his fingers into yours, the rough surface of skin contrasting your soft touch. "I–I wish I could tell you what it is right now, Y/N, I really do, but it's not the right time. I need you to trust me, I need you to believe me, I don't want to hurt you,"
There was a moment of silence where you stood before him, hands intertwined with his, your hurtful gaze scanning his every feature that you knew too well. Jake never lied to you, you knew that, but why couldn't you fully trust him this time? There was a sense of truth and lie hidden behind his words, but you knew one thing, he was genuine. Yet, it wasn't enough. 
"Let me make it up to you. There's this carnival in the city tomorrow night, you and I, hang out, what do you say?" He tried offering a smile, which eventually turned uncertain. "We can spend the entire day together. Just you and me,"
"No bailing on me this time?"
"Promise,"
"You do?"
He held up your interlocked hands, then intertwined your's and his pinky fingers together, something you and him always did when it came to serious promises despite the childishness to the whole pinky promises thing. "Promise," he repeated. 
"I believe you, Jake. I always do, and I just don't want you to get yourself in danger, whatever it is that you're doing. Whenever you turn up bruised and beaten, I–I just feel helpless, and you push me away every time,"
"I'm sorry," he whispered, taking your interlocked hands and placing them on his chest, near to where his heart resided. "I promise to tell you the truth soon. I just need to be ready,"
"When you're ready," you gave his hand an affirming squeeze, a reassuring smile creeping up onto your lips. "Do you want to stay over?"
"I didn't turn up with a packed bag for nothing," he laughed, the air lightening up much more compared to earlier. "I'll sleep on the ground like always,"
Once you were done manoeuvring and setting up the sleeping bag for Jake, you were finally in bed for the second time that night, except now, you had Jake sleeping on the ground beside your bed. It wasn't a rare occasion having him sleep over, just maybe this time it was a tad bit more awkward given the situation you had earlier. 
"Jake," you spoke into the darkness, your eyes trained on that one spot on your ceiling. 
He hummed back in response. 
"Nothing has changed between us, right?"
A beat of silence, the whirring of your A/C was what remained. Then, he spoke. "No. Nothing's ever going to change. Nothing will change," 
It sounded familiar, the way he said it and the enunciation he had in every word. You shook it off, given the late night and a mushy brain, you didn't give it a second thought. 
"I'm glad. Goodnight, Jake."
"Goodnight."
Despite the reassurance from Jake, you descended into sleep with a pit in your gut. You could barely sleep with him next to you, thinking you could find a cure to every trouble that existed between you and him to fix it all. How could he say there'd be no changes when there's a bigger crack forming on your heart?
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The next morning was like any other whenever Jake stayed over. An empty kitchen that allowed you to make some simple breakfast and after, you bid Jake goodbye for the moment before meeting him later on that day. 
Upon stepping into your room, you spotted a black lump sitting under the window. It was Jake's backpack. He was already long gone from your apartment by then. 
You advanced towards his backpack, held it up to move it somewhere else, but it only caused the contents inside to spill out. Knowing how clumsy Jake always was, you figured his backpack had been unzipped the entire time.
You glanced at the pile of mess littered on your floor, a clump of red catching your eyes amongst the rest. Curiosity got the best of you despite knowing you shouldn't pry, but the moment your fingers made contact with it, the question marks in your head increased by tenfold.
Spandex material. You pinched it at first, feeling the material against your skin, then you finally got the guts to hold it up entirely, revealing something far beyond expectations. 
Spiderman suit?
Was it a fake one? Jake could've always bought it from Amazon. You held it closer for inspection, noticing how it was worn out, slight tears on the bottoms. It couldn't be a fake, something in you knew. The dried blood stains on some spots gave it away. 
Everything made sense to you now. Jake being secretive, hiding the truth from you every time you asked, turning up hurt and disappearing at random times just for the news to report Spiderman's appearance after. All of them were finally connected in your head, and revelations about his suspiciousness were known by you.
It hit you. Jake was spiderman. Your best friend was that vigilante swinging around the city saving people and fighting crimes. He was the one who walked and swung you home. He always knew.
You let out a breath of disbelief, knees feeling weak and head spinning. How were you to shoulder the truth after this? Pretend like nothing's wrong when everything is wrong and weird. It was practically impossible to patch up the existing crack that continued to worsen. 
Shoving Jake's belongings back into the bag, you shouldered it and made your way to his place. Your mind was in a haze, the thought of him being Spiderman was hard to wrap around. Sometimes ignorance was genuinely bliss, you wished this was one of those times. 
You didn't know if it was a good or bad thing that Jake wasn't home when you turned up at his door, meeting a confused looking Aunt May instead. Apparently, Jake went out in search of his backpack that was currently in your hands, so you had no choice but to call him and wait for him to be back. 
How could you not have spotted it sooner? Now that you're in his bedroom for possibly the millionth time, everything seems clearer. The map of the city stuck on his wall which had random scribbles and locations circled in red marker ink stood out to you, the box of medicine and ointments sat on his bedside table that you frequently ignored. All the signs were presented before your eyes without your knowledge.
"Hey, sorry for keeping you waiting," Jake closed his bedroom door after almost half an hour of waiting for his appearance. His hair was dishevelled, clearly panicked and alarmed. 
"No, it's okay, we're supposed to meet up anyway," you sat up from lying on his bed, nodding at the backpack sitting on his desk. "Got your baby back,"
"Oh my God," he crossed the room with big steps and had zero hesitation when it came to unzipping it to check his belongings. "Did I leave it at your place?"
"You did," 
"Thought I left it out there somewhere," he murmured under his breath, then zipped the bag up. You knew why he was so secretive, and it made even more sense why he always brought it around. 
Jake most likely felt your wandering eyes on him judging from the way he spun around and shielded his bag from view, trying to divert your attention away. "Want to watch a movie?"
How could you possibly say no? That sly prick.
You didn't indulge in his suspicious behaviour further now that you were aware of his secret, though you pretended not to. He did say he would reveal it to you soon, but that 'soon' was quite unknown. At this point, you didn't know who was going to be the first one to reveal it. Either you or him.
You spent half of the day binging on movies, ate an early dinner and then walked to the carnival together. Along the way there, you couldn't stop yourself from taking quick glances at Jake. The street lights illuminated his features under the darkening sky, the loud chatter of the crowd drowned out and it was only him in your world. Even as he asked you questions, you blindly nodded to most of them. 
How could you not fall for him? He bought you drinks without question, won you prizes at those booths, held your hand as you walked through the crowds. It was as if Jake Sim himself was blind enough to not know what he was doing to you. 
"Enjoying the night?" Jake threw his arm around your shoulder ever so casually that it had you holding your breath for a minute.
"You won me a big bear, of course I am," you held onto the stuffed toy tightly, grinning at the memory of Jake winning during his first try. 
"What's next? Wanna stop by that art and craft booth then we go on the ferris wheel?" Jake definitely did know his way into your heart.
"Sounds good," 
You thought the night would eventually end with peace and quiet, but before it could even end, it had been ruined beyond belief. 
The big screen suddenly flashed to a news reporter, the background looking chaotic and people were fleeing. It was live news, the whole thing was happening as you breathed. You and Jake stood rooted, staring at the big screen just like many others did, listening in on the broadcast.
'Just in, a monstrous creature was seen terrorizing and climbing along the Oscorp building. It was spotted not long ago, but now it has disappeared into the building, its whereabouts unknown. Workers of Oscorp have fled the building, but not all of them, some were said to be present in the building until now.'
You glanced at Jake, a sinking feeling in your gut. It was a sour thought knowing he's about to get himself in danger yet again, but having him bailing once more cut deeper than a falling knife. As a human, you wanted him to save lives and the city. However, you were also his best friend, and you hated to be selfish, but you just wanted him to be there without having to leave every single moment.
The conflict in your eyes matched Jake's, who was evidently struggling with himself. You tried to mask it, yet hurt and sadness was hard to ignore or hide. 
"Oscorp … Gwen," the faint hush of a murmur was audible under his breath, causing you to cock your head at him.
"What?" 
"I–I, Y/N, I have an emergency," he removed his arm around you, the hold on his backpack strap tightened. 
"Jake," to scream at him? Let him leave? All of the above? You struggled with your emotions as you tried to understand and empathise, you always did, but couldn't you just have him this one time?
"I'm sorry …" his voice was weak, he knew how much pain and hurt he caused you, and retreating away from your disappointed face wasn't going to solve anything, just the problem downtown, but not the cracks that were forming right now.
"I know, Jake," you shouted when he was a distance away from you. He turned around, eyes widened and pupils blown, a mix of confusion and surprise painted his features. "I know about you,"
He was breathless, he didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything. He left without a trace, and once again, you were left alone to fend for yourself. You wanted to understand, you do, but it was hard. 
You glanced at the big screen for one last time, uttering a silent curse under your breath, and decided to head to where the scene was. Crazy? Stupid? You were everything described. That was probably why you and Jake were best friends. 
Taking the cab was one of the stupidest decisions you made, and that excluded the part where you're literally bringing yourself to danger. Thanks to whatever that was terrorising the Oscorp building, the traffic was heavier than usual, so you had no choice but to run on foot. It was the most running you ever did all year.
You wondered if it was a good idea to even be there. Answer: no. The police cars were everywhere, all of which were stationed with police that were armed with rifles. A helicopter circled the building, several broadcasting stations and their reporters were present too. It was a mess. 
"What's happening here?" You were practically out of breath, panting, as you asked a random bystander there. 
"Some freakish lizard creature. I think Spiderman swung into the building to save the remaining victims. They were all rescued but Spiderman's still fighting in there,"
"You saw him? Spiderman?"
"I did! Red suit, white webs, he was so heroic when he crashed through the glass panels," 
"That's the one," you said unnervingly, disliking the uncertainty of it all. Jake was putting himself in danger and you could do nothing about it. How long did this go on for? You were left in the dark for far too long.
Soon, which almost felt like forever, you saw a speck of red escaping from the gap in the building with somebody in hand. You held your breath out of anxiety, heart thumping, listening in on all the noises and reports coming from everywhere around you.
"There he is! Spiderman!" A reporter appeared next to you, absolutely transfixed with the superhero slinging through the dark sky and eventually landing in the distance. "He has the last hostage in hand! A girl!" 
A girl?
You pushed past the crowd, trying to get a closer look at Spiderman and the entire scene before you. There he was, speaking to the police, but there was somebody else too. Gwen Stacy. 
An overwhelming feeling crashed down on you like a heavy weight of boulders falling from the sky. Confusion, hurt, heartbreak, altogether they penetrated you harder than you could manage to breathe. One step, two step, you took many steps back before turning away and hailing for a cab home. 
He wasn't yours, and he wasn't yours to lose either.
Returning home to an empty apartment was nothing new, except it did hit differently this time. Your heart was empty, mind in a haze, it was as if your narrator had drawn swirls over your head. You wished things had turned out in another way. You and Jake, how you found out about his secret, him hiding his secret. If only all of them had another ending than what you had in the present.
You sat slumped over in bed, the desk lamp was the only thing that provided light for the darkness in your room. The shadow looming over your window went unnoticed by you. That was until a series of knocks sounded and you jumped out of bed in alert, finding it strange how there was nothing once your eyes trained on your window.
Well, there goes your future. 
You stepped a little closer. Just then, the window was jerked open by some unseen force, a red cladded face peeking his head into frame. Spiderman, or more accurately, Jake, was standing on your fire escape again. 
He dropped his backpack onto your bedroom floor, letting himself in wordlessly. You stared at him, not knowing whether to speak first or let him be the one to do it. After all, he had left you hanging, it's the least he could do.
Jake pulled off the mask from his head, revealing a rather beat up face and messy, dishevelled hair that was coated with sweat. "You knew?"
His voice was tired, but the confusion and hurt punctuated through his words. He inched close to you, but you took a step back, unable to meet his gaze.
"Well, it wasn't a long time," you muttered. "Just today, actually … coincidentally,"
"How?" 
"Your backpack. I swear I didn't look through it, it was unzipped and when I picked it up, everything spilled out. Your suit revealed it all," you chewed at your bottom lip, Jake's eyes boring into yours, the prickling feeling of anxiety crawled all over your skin. "I didn't want to find out this way either,"
"I'm sorry for not telling you earlier. I wanted to, trust me, you're one of the closest people I have in my life. But I just didn't know when or how to break it to you. I wanted to protect you, to keep you safe," he was equally guilty for hiding it for a long time, but you understood the reason behind it. Being a hero comes with a great responsibility, that was what movies taught you anyway. 
"Jake, I know, and it's okay, but I just wish to be selfish for a little. I want you to be here with me, to be there for me a–and be my best friend for a minute," you felt yourself losing the will to speak as seconds passed by. "I feel like I'm losing you,"
"You're not. I'm here," he pressed his palm against his heart, stepping closer until he was barely a few inches away. "Always,"
"I don't want to lose you, Jake," your voice wavered, a clear sheen of tears glazed your eyes. "I'm in love with you," your words came out in a whisper, a hushed confession that spilled with no warning, coming from the deepest, darkest pits of your heart. Even then, you couldn't believe you had actually said it, stilling in place and blinking in shock. 
Jake's breath hitched, his movements frozen. You wondered about the possible scenarios you were about to face, ones that you thought of whenever you had the urge to spill your love confession.  All of them certainly didn't prepare you for what was happening next.
"I'm sorry," shock turned into instant panic. Your hands shot out to create a small distance between you and him. "Ignore what I just said. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable—"
Jake didn't say much, and in a swift motion, he grabbed a hold of your hand, pulled you into him. One hand holding your wrist, the other cupping your face to tilt your head and his lips met yours.
You could barely register it. The weight of his mouth against yours created a mass of fireworks in both your head and stomach. The shock evaporated from your body and relief took its spot. You melted against his touch, leaning your body closer to his. 
Jake kissed you like no man could have ever done. He left a part of himself, imprinted his every unspoken word into a deep and passionate kiss. You wondered if this was what it felt like being loved by him.
Forever was what you wished for when it came to kissing him. Yet, it eventually came to an end just like every one of your favourite movies. This time, however, you weren't disappointed, you were glad. 
"Don't apologise. Y/N, I'm in love with you too," his hand on your cheek remained, the dim light managed to bring out the sparks in his pupils. It was your turn to be confused. Didn't he have a crush?  "I know what you're thinking. Gwen—" it's freaky how he always knew, "—I was kinda dumb, to be honest. I was always in love with you but it took me years and a girl to only realise that,
"She was nothing like you. The more I got to know her, the more I thought of you. I wasn't trying to like her, I was trying to find a piece of you in her. Being the coward that I am, I ran away from facing the thought of liking you, I didn't want to ruin our friendship. So, I kept on entertaining the thoughts of liking Gwen instead, but none of it was real. You're the one who's constantly taking up space in my mind, in my heart,"
The fireworks from earlier exploded ten folds in your mind. You couldn't believe you were experiencing every passing moment listening to Jake's confession. He felt the same way as you did for him. He has had the same pining for you like the same way you had for him. Years, years of unspoken romantic love for one another that both were too scared to touch upon. 
Jake took your shell shocked silence as an opportunity to continue on. "I'm sorry for standing you up all the time. I'm sorry for hiding the truth from you. I'm sorry for avoiding you. I'm sorry for not realising it sooner. But I love you, Y/N. You're my best friend, more than anything, you're the only person I want to have occupying my mind all the Goddamn time,"
"Jake," your hand travelled to place itself onto his which rested on your face. "I love you too," you laced your hand into his, the intimacy that would've been seen platonic days ago was now something more than that. You and him both felt the shift, it was apparent. 
"I don't care that you're Spiderman," you continued, not once breaking eye contact with him, letting him stare into yours as you did the same. "You're Jake to me, you forever will be, and that's all that matters,"
Jake's delicate features melted into a smile. His pretty smile that had you swooning was on display like a trophy, influencing you enough to crack a small grin too. He looped an arm around your waist, dipping you slightly and pressing a haste kiss on your lips, then your cheeks. 
"I guess I can now say I've swung into your heart," he teasingly sent a wink flying at you, to which you responded with an eye roll. Some things never changed, but his ego definitely was inflated now.
"Shut up before I kick you out," you threw a light punch at his shoulder, which he dodged almost unsuccessfully. "Come on, let's patch you up then we can go to bed," you patted his shoulder, walking towards your bathroom. 
"Demanding," he whistled under his breath, picking up his discarded mask from the floor. 
"Don't make me add a black eye to your face,"
"But you like my pretty face,"
"You want to test it out?"
"Okay, okay. I'm coming."
The night eventually ended with Jake being patched up and sleeping on your bed instead of his usual spot on the ground. These little changes was what you anticipated most, but other than that, it was safe to say nothing would be changing when it came to your and Jake's relationship. If anything, it was about to be stronger. 
So what if he was Spiderman? At least you knew Spiderman was yours, and he had indeed swung into your heart.
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Dating your best friend who had a secret identity was fun. 
You got to discuss maths in school and listen to his adventures after. Not to mention, he would swing you around New York City at times once the clock striked past midnight. No other girl was going to get a date like this. Ten out of ten, you may add. 
With the fun came the terror. You do fear for Jake's safety almost every time he's out, and it has become a routine to patch him up till the point where you had to restock your emergency kit. This time was like no other when Jake appeared through the window soundlessly in his Spiderman suit.
"Hey," he was breathless, tumbling over the window still. 
You jumped, not even realising his appearance. "What the hell? Jake? Oh my God," you got up right away to support his tired body, but he ended up sliding down onto the ground anyway.
"Are you injured anywhere? Bleeding?" You checked for his body, trying to spot any obvious cuts, making yourself comfortable in the space between his legs. 
"No," his hand reached for the end of his mask, pulling it up halfway only to reveal his lips. "Can I get a kiss?"
"Are you serious?"
"I am dead serious," 
You rolled your eyes, leaning down to press a kiss on his lips that eventually widened into a satisfied smile. You gently slapped his face, eliciting a sweet laugh from him and with a tug of his hand, he fully removed the mask from his head, revealing his pretty face that you missed.
"I got something for you," his hand reached out to brush your hair away from your face, his touch ever so gentle when it came to you. He dug something out of his bag, pulling out a fresh bouquet of flowers. "Ta-da," 
"Flowers?" You accepted the bouquet from him, noticing all of your favourite flowers in it. He remembered, even the littlest details about you, he remembered them all.
"I got them on the way here," you raised an eyebrow at him. He threw his hands up in defence. "Hey, I didn't steal them. I actually paid for them. They gave me a discount too because I was in my suit,"
You resisted a smile. "You're unbelievable,"
"Unbelievably cute? Romantic? Handsome?" He leaned in closer to you, noses close enough to brush against one another. 
"Go away," you squeezed his cheek, and he just let you do so without any fight. You threw your arms around his neck, hugging him briefly. "I like them,"
"What about me?"
"I like you too,"
 "But I like you more," 
You threw your head back laughing, a simple sound which was enough to have Jake's heart racing. "We're not making this into a competition, stupid. Now, go shower or else you're not sleeping on my bed,"
"But—"
"Nope. Shower or get exiled,"
"Fine," he dragged his body up sluggishly, looking almost like a puppy being forced to his dismay: the shower. "You're not joining me?"
"Don't make me chase you out." you threw a pillow at him that he skillfully dodged. Damn his spider senses. His laughter echoed around your bedroom until he disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of it gave comfort to you and your beating heart.
Things might've changed a little in different aspects, but you knew nothing could change you or Jake altogether. He was your best friend and lover no matter what he was. Spiderman or loverboy, he was everything to you. All you knew was that he was going to be by your side no matter what, protecting your heart alongside the city. 
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angelltheninth · 6 months
Text
Jujutsu Kaisen Characters + Falling First or Falling Harder
Pairing: Yuuji, Sukuna, Megumi, Nobara, Maki, Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Toji, Choso x Reader
Tags: fluff, crushes, flirting, confession, sudden kiss, protectiveness, blushing, hand-holding, pining, literal sleeping together
A/N: I think I'd be in the 'fell harder' one cause if it's anything like my hype fixations then yeah, I'd fall very hard.
Yuuji feel for you first, the moment he saw you fight in fact. You looked so cool to him then, he had to talk to you and get to know you better. Wasn't shy at all, but didn't know what to talk about first, so he talked about a little bit of everything he was interested in. With a smile and an energy like his it's really no wonder you found yourself falling for him a few months down the line. You asked him when he fell for you and he had to be honest, you were badass.
Sukuna definitely feel a lot harder for you then you did for him. He is a very, very passionate man and when he wants something or someone he doesn't give up until its his. While some may thing he was coming on too strong, too aggressive, talking about making heirs and making you his consort you found it a little funny. The King of Curses, talking so passionately about you, it was flattering to say the least.
Megumi took a while but he feel harder. As he is on the more dense side when it comes to romance, as in not very interested in it, you had to pine for him a good long while before his heart skipped a beat for you that first time you held his hand when you were facing down an enemy. The protective urge in him soon became something that persisted long after the fight, a need to be close to you and and make sure you're safe and happy.
Nobara feel head over heels for you first, no doubts about it. A romantic like her was bound to fall in love quickly and she wasn't cagey about it either, not pushy but she made sure there was no room for doubt about her feelings for you. She confessed rather quickly too, brought you flowers and made quite the romantic speech to you. Thankfully it payed off for her, not only did you confess back, a lot more subtly but your daily walks suddenly had many more kisses.
Maki never thought she would but she feel for you so hard. Running from her feelings wasn't her style, she knew you were crushing on her, those looks you gave her while training were unmistakable. They were easy to ignore until she started looking back, really looking and getting distracted to the point she had to set different times so you wouldn't distract her. It did not get better after you got together, it was wore because she had the urge to kiss you for good luck every time and it was so embarrassing.
Gojo was the one who feel in love with you first and let everyone know about it. Really everyone, most of all you. A touchy person like him couldn't hold back when he saw you, he'd hug you, spin you around, lean in when you were talking and lift his blindfold so he could wink at you. Most of all he enjoyed holding your hand, and made damn sure every knew you were holding hands. Would make loud, exagerated noises when giving you a kiss, yes just to see you get heated and flustered.
Nanami was reserved about it but he feel a lot harder then he ever did for anyone. His feelings were subtle, as much as he could do so. On every missing you went on he was there, when you went out to celebrate he was there, when it looked like someone might bother you he was there, if you drank too much he's walk you home. When did he start staying over and making you breakfast? It happened so naturally you thought you were dreaming, and just like in your dreams you kissed him, except this time the dream didn't end there, it became part of your reality.
Geto is as surprised as you are that he feel in love first. Couldn't let you know but it was hard to hide. Making sure you always had back up or that you got proper rest, some might mistake it for protectiveness. Catch was he wasn't like this with anyone else but you. It was only a matter of time before you figured it out. He had to let you know before then or else you might think he's a coward who can't even do something as simple as confess his feelings.
Toji doesn't fall in love often but when he does he falls in love very hard. You find yourself on the receiving end of his many confessions, the sudden kisses he pulls you in and doesn't let up until your lungs burn. There was a part of you that felt the same way of course but his feelings were so intense you had trouble keeping up with him. Normally that would be an issue but he's a sadist, so it's cute to watch you struggle. If you really can't he's got some methods that might help. Clothes is optional.
Choso gets almost scary with how hard he's fallen for you. Becomes very clingy towards you, possessive almost and keeps sneaking into your room. Not for lewd things, only to sleep. It's easier when he's in your arms you see. Already aware of your feelings he doesn't see the need to hold his back, so he nuzzles you, tells you how nice you feel, warm and soft and he'll kill anyone who dares say otherwise. To him you're perfect and he'll spend all day making sure you know it.
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stevieschrodinger · 7 months
Text
Part One
Baker Steve and Rock Star Eddie wrong number AU
Part two
"Steve! You have no idea!" Eddie's laughing, and that always makes Steve laugh, too. He's clearly a little tipsy. "Everyone went mad for the cake! It's was just, gone! Here, I'll send you some pictures!"
"I know what it looked like Eds," but Steve's grinning, knowing he's talking to empty air, can hear Eddie very vaguely mumbling to himself as he looks through his camera roll. Next to Steve' ear, his phone vibrates several times.
"Anyway, Stevie, I was thinking," Eddie's back now, still clearly tipsy but sounding uncharacteristically sheepish, "it's Christmas kind of soon right? Going to need a cake or two there. New year. Easter. Birthdays and bar mitzvahs and...and... independence day...so I was thinking I should get my orders in now, you know? Avoid disappointment."
"Eddie," Steve starts, finds himself turning shy himself, "you don't have to have a cake on order just to talk to me."
"I, ah, don't?"
"No, I mean, pretty sure we're friends, right?"
"Friends," Eddie starts slowly, "there's, like, lots of different kinds of friends."
"Sure, sure," Steve agrees easily, butterflies running rampant in his stomach, "there's even, kind of, more than friends, really."
"That sounds really really great-"
"Eddie!" There's a cacophony in the background, people shouting, "man, you're missing your own party-"
The line goes dead, and Steve's left standing in the dim light of the evening, just staring at tomorrow's cake order where it's cooling on the racks. A minute later, his phone buzzes in his hand, "so sorry baby, talk tomorrow."
Steve smiles at his phone. He had gone a little quiet after finding out who Eddie really is. It had kind of surprised him. But then Eddie had text him, "did I do something? 😞" and Steve realised Eddie's entitled to his privacy, the same as anyone.
"Hey Stevie, how's your day?"
Steve has Eddie on speaker phone as he mixes batter, "pretty good so far, you? You hungover?"
"No, no, didn't get that wasted, too old for that nonsense now, you know?"
Steve laughs, "aren't you like, 25?"
"I mean, maybe. Definitely old enough to, like, think about settling down, you know?"
Steve's breath catches in his throat, excitement and nerves after their interrupted conversation last night, "yeah, you, thinking about that? With, uhm, someone?"
"Yeah, I am, it's just..." Steve's heart sinks in his chest," my job, you know, I travel a lot, and that would be a sacrifice for anyone, and I couldn't ask someone to live with that, you know?"
"Well...what if it wasn't? What if they just...went with you?"
"What if...this person...had a job they loved? Their own business they worked hard for?"
"Yeah," Steve agrees slowly, "but what if...well, take me for example. I love to bake, but I don't love my business. That's just a means to an end, you know? I don't always love the orders, I'd choose to make something else if I was doing it for fun. So if it were me, i'd give it up in a heartbeat as long as I can keep baking."
"Yeah? You mean it?"
"Yeah. Yeah Eddie, I mean it."
"I, I mean, sure. Good. Thanks. I mean, not thanks, I mean, good, that's great."
Steve grins at Eddie's ramblings.
"I'll be away though, soon, for a couple of months, like four months, so, maybe, we could keep talking and when, I mean, if you want, what I get back..."
"I'd like that." Steve fist pumps, silently celebrating. "You never actually told me what you do for work?". Steve's teasing him, but Eddie doesn't know that Steve knows so, Steve grins to himself and keeps his voice even.
"I ah, music?"
"Yeah, you have mentioned that before, but what about it?" Steve knows he's being a dick, he just can't help it though.
"I ah, travel, with the band," Eddie starts slowly, and that is technically not a lie, Steve thinks, "and I kind of, look after some of the instruments and...have a lot to do with the sound checks? Like I'm definitely always there, for every sound check, like, I have to be."
All of that is probably true, Steve thinks, and god bless Eddie for not wanting to actually lie to Steve.
"Oh right, and what's the band called?"
"Oh, they're like, heavy metal, you've definitely never heard of them."
After they get off the call, Steve laughs all afternoon.
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willowser · 5 months
Text
"i ain't takin' a fuckin' bath."
katsuki's half-undressed, standing in the kitchen with the fridge doors wide open; shirtless, shoulders broad and muscles round and taut, cool air raising goosebumps across his exposed skin. his un-buttoned tac pants are dangerously low on his hips, so low that you wonder—while staring at the dimples of his back—if he's doing it on purpose.
the dewy sheen of sweat he'd come home with has gone matte, leaving him in a thin, sticky, grimy layer that is grimace-inducing to feel. like most nights, dirt and soot and even blood—grown dark and less worrisome with time—color him haphazardly, strewn across his body; a mosaic of dynamight, made by his own hands.
"but you stink," you fail to suppress a smile when he snaps his head around, to fix you with an ugly look that you return. he manages to hide his own amusement in the bulge of his bicep. "i'm serious! a bath will help you relax!"
turning back to the open fridge, he grumbles, "i am relaxed," in a tone that doesn't sound relaxed. at all.
"come on," you urge, shuffling up to him, wrapping your arms around his waist despite all his dried grease and muck. "you go first and i'll be there in a minute."
that catches his attention enough that he finally closes the doors, facing you as he runs a lazy hand over his stomach. to his credit, he does look a bit more relaxed than he had when he'd come through the door—but the set of his jaw is still too stern, brow only ever furrowed, a little more argumentative than usual, even if it's harmless.
katsuki seems to consider your unspoken proposition, before finally surrendering with a roll of his eyes. "fine, but i'm takin' a shower like a grown ass man."
"no!" you groan, latching onto his arm when he moves to step around you. you try to dig your heels into the ground, but you're in the kitchen in socks, and katsuki only yanks you after him with a wicked grin. "bath! a bath will help you relax, i mean it! i've got lavender oils!"
"i ain't using' your frilly shit!"
he finally slips from you when you sputter out a laugh, tugging free from your grip before throwing you a look that is hot in more ways than one. innocent as you aimed to be, something tightens in your stomach; awakened at the sight of him.
you warn, "i'm only coming if you're in the bath!" and his loud, exaggerated groan echoes nearly throughout your entire house, swallowing up your chirpy laugh.
—but, much to your surprise, he listens.
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you let him soak for a good five minutes before following after, and when you find him, he's got his head leaned back over the edge, elbows resting on either side of the tub, legs bent and knees sticking up out of the water. handsome as ever, you think, a little dreamy, before the marble of him shifts at your arrival.
he only opens one eye, and you can see already the tension has drained from his face; half-asleep, a little bloodshot and breathing too even to convince you otherwise.
"well, well, well," you murmur, lowering to the floor on your knees after his eye slips shut again. "look at you, princess."
katsuki makes a haughty noise of irritation, but doesn't bite back: a dead giveaway of his exhaustion. instead his hand finds the material of your shirt, tugging on it lightly before he slurs out, "get y'r ass in the tub."
you'd bite his fingers if they weren't still disgusting, but you place a teeny kiss on the cleanest spot you can see on his wrist. "i don't need a bath, but thanks."
"hah?" he grunts, eye shooting open again as he frowns at you. when you only smile coyly at him, he raises his head and glares at you properly. "y'dirty liar, you said—"
"i said i'd be right behind you," you grin. "not that i'd be getting in."
the water sloshes up against the sides as he straightens his posture, baring his teeth at you as he prepares, you think, to lunge out and haul you in with him despite a screaming protest—but you reach forward just before he can, dipping a hand down into the warmth right between his thighs.
katsuki jumps, seriously, leg kicking out so hard that his heel slams into the edge of the tub, when you gently hold him where he's soft. "jesus!" he all but yelps, eyes going a little wide as he realizes what you've done. what you've made of him.
he's still—marble-still—air sucking in sharply between his parted, frozen lips as you touch him, and heat pools so obviously, so suddenly, in his cheeks, sweet enough that you want to bite into the apples of them. in your hand he swells thick, quickly, a little slippery from the soap he's already added to the water.
all his tension returns, as a different strain; katsuki swallows, hard, as his eyes dart back and forth between your own and where your hand disappears into the water; when you gently rub your thumb back and forth across the tip of him, his back straightens, even moreso, and, you don't think he knows it, but his legs part even further.
an invitation if you'd ever seen one.
he finally comes back to life when you lean in close enough to nudge your nose to his, just to see him blink.
he's so cute, you want to eat him alive.
"the f-fuck are y'doin'?" he whispers, eyes dropping back down as you stroke him lightly, just enough to coil him tighter. at the end of the tub, water sloshes quietly from the movement, and katsuki's ears burn.
you've caught him entirely off guard, and if it wasn't clear before, it becomes crystalline when you kiss him, deeply. he's lazy to reciprocate, breathing softly, open-mouthed, as you press a soft kiss to his top lip and then to his bottom, whispering his name back to him just to hear his sharp inhale.
you time a clever stroke of your wrist with the firm press of your mouth to his, insistent and fast, urging the wildness of him to catch up, to come out. it hits him all at once—your desire, his own, the heat of it all—and his hand shoots out of the water to grip the back of your neck, a deep groan slipping from his chest as his cock kicks in your hand.
you try more than once to pull back from him with a sneaky little laugh, but his fingers tangle in your hair and he kisses your teeth and you think, maybe, you're not teasing him enough. his knees knock lightly against the ceramic as he tries to spread them, even further, and his hips shift up with every slick pump of your fist, urgent and eager.
he speaks, furiously, against your lips, when you snatch your hand away, instead teasing your fingers along the inside of his thigh. "get—in th'fuckin' tub." his shoulders tremble, ever so slightly. "i ain't askin' again."
you laugh against him and his nostrils flare. "you didn't ask at all!"
"so quit your bullshit already."
you lick his bottom lip, nipping at the fat of it gently before weaving your own hand into his damp hair. "no," you tease, like a brat, but when you tug enough at the strands, he gets the hint and allows you to pull away. "i'm trying to help you relax, you know?"
katsuki doesn't respond at first, only huffing out a frustrated sound when you wrap your hand around his length again. his face is steaming, despite how firm he's trying to be; your own desire strikes hot when his head tips back just slightly, jaw straining as he grits his teeth.
"no," he finally grunts, eyes dark and pinned to you. "'s'the last thing i feel, is-is relaxed."
"hmm," you make a point to frown and look away, like you're thinking, but katsuki's impatience wins out and he drags you back in for a shuddering kiss. he's fervent, now, nipping at your lip and brushing his tongue against your own eagerly, trying to muffle a painful sound against your cheek. "that's too bad," you tell him—but you don't think he hears you, really, over his low curse and the returning slosh of water against the tub.
but when you ask him again, only a handful of minutes later—his boneless answer is precisely what you were looking for.
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lvlyghost · 11 months
Text
Cold Nights
Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader
Summary: Reader doesn't show up for morning training. Ghost doesn't know what to think.
Word Count: 794
Tw: fluff, angst, mentions of being sick, soldiers being scared of simon lol, ooc simon probably, he calls reader kid, i think that's it🤭
A/N: I'm sick and this came to my mind, I just want simon to take care of me okay???🥹🤧 this is super bad as usual. still hope you like it. pls remember english isn't my first language, corrections are welcome ✨💖
Masterlist✨
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Ghost doesn't see her at the cafeteria, nor the training room. He's disgruntled. His eyes keep drifting apart from the soldiers in front of him, waiting for the next round of endless push ups he's gonna make them go through.
Why isn't she here?
His body feels restless, pacing back and forth.
Soap doesn't say anything, just shifts his weight from one foot to another.
"Johnny," he calls him. "You're in charge."
"Lt.?" He quirks a brow, not understanding. That's so unlike him.
"Got things to do."
He storms out of the room, the walls rattle when he closes the doors.
It's a cold day. Just like the day before.
Days used to mean nothing to him.
Time.
Until she came along. Three years ago.
That woman... he sighs.
Was it something he said? Didn't they talk about it last night?
Everything was fine.
Or so he thought.
-
"We shouldn't be out here, kid." He mutters. It's freezing, he can see her trembling even beneath her hoodie. Well it was actually his. The hoodie completely swallowing her small form.
"I know, I know!" She laughs. Her cheeks a beautiful shade of pink. "I just... it was too loud inside." That he can agree on. "Is it true?" She asks a few seconds later.
Simon stills. Choosing his next words carefully.
"What?"
"What Soap said." A heartbeat. "About us."
There's a silence that falls between them.
"Those were the words of a drunk man."
"Were they?" her smile is contagious. Damn her and her beautiful soul. "Would you come with me if I asked you to?"
He stares directly at her, trying to find any sign of doubt. He's always mesmerized by her gentle nature. That's something he never knew. Perhaps that's why he was so drawn to her. Longed to be wherever she was. Breathe the same air.
"I'd say that's highly inappropriate." He states. "And that you've had too many shots of whatever poor excuse of a whiskey Johnny made you drink."
"Price called it piss water." She shooks her head. "You're changing the subject!"
Simon chuckles. He really does.
"You've got such power over me no one else could ever have, kid."
And he's doomed.
-
He's trying so hard, going through the events of the night, trying to remember. What happened? Nothing out of line was said. She seemed content when they parted ways, right after he had kissed her good night outside her room. Simon saw the way her eyes lit up with a spark he never saw before. The longing stare. Remembers vividly how she had stopped him, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt pulling him down for another heated kiss.
He walks down the corridor with long strides. Hands balled into fists. He shouldn't be this mad. But that was the effect she had in him.
He tries to cool down. Ghost was scared too. What if she had changed her mind and didn't want anything to do with him? He was messing up his head at the mere thought.
He finally makes it to the room, knocking twice before her soft voice tells him he can come in.
Inside the room, all the curtains were closed, not a single ray of light made it inside apart from the lamp casting shadows around. Furrowing his brows he closes the door behind him with a low click.
"Kid?" He calls her. Immediately rolling on her side she welcomes him, red eyes, stuffy nose and looking disheveled.
"Sorry I missed training." She apologizes. Changing to a sitting position and waits for him to sit next to her.
"What's wrong?" He demands with a soft voice. She's still wearing his hoodie from last night. Rubbing her eyes she gives Simon a tired smile.
"I'm just really sick Simon." She answers, he can hear her hoarse voice now.
"Bloody hell, love." His hand goes straight to her face, caressing her cheek. "Did you go to the infirmary?" Closing her eyes, she rest her head against his hand.
"Mhm. Got some painkillers prescribed. Still feel horrible."
"Good, it'll take some time for you to feel better. You need to rest, okay?". The look he gave her leaves no room for discussion.
"Wasn't planning on leaving my bed you know?" He smiles ever so slightly. "Would you stay with me?" When he doesn't answer right away she adds: "never mind you'll catch whatever this bug is and i don't ..."
"Sweetheart," he interrupts her rambling. "Scoot over."
She looks at him wide-eyed.
"You... you don't," she stutters.
"No, I don't mind at all. If there's anything you need just tell me, copy?" She nods, staring at his blue eyes. "Told you we shouldn't have been outside last night."
"Even if it meant catching a cold, I'm glad we did, Simon."
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hairmetal666 · 11 months
Text
The note shows up in Eddie's mailbox cubby on Valentine's Day.
It's nothing fancy, loopy cursive handwriting on lined paper:
"I know this is probably silly but I can't go another day without saying it, and today seems appropriate for this kind of confession. Seeing you in the morning is the best part of my day. You're so gorgeous it leaves me breathless. I hope you don't mind if I don't leave my name. Just wanted you to know that you're beautiful."
His eyes fill with tears that he blinks back, a goofy smile stretching his mouth wide.
"You good there, Munson?" Robin Buckley asks.
"Oh, yup, yeah, all good." He laughs. "Just got one of those 'you're my favorite teacher Mr. Munson!' notes."
He squeezes the letter to his chest before slipping it in his pocket.
---
The worst thing about Eddie's new job is that someway, somehow, Steve-fucking-Harrington works here too. PE teacher, JV basketball coach, of-fucking-course. Once a douchebag jock, always a douchebag jock. What makes it all worse is that he's still the prettiest guy Eddie's ever seen.
---
The first week of March, there's a commotion in the hallway that has him rushing out of his room, ready to breakup a fight. He finds Harrington already there, holding Dustin Henderson and Will Byers by their shoulders. Troy Walsh and James Dante stand across from them, wearing matching snarls.
Of course Harrington is picking on little nerd kids; he knew it. But before he steps forwards to break it up, Steve speaks, voice low and angry. "You want to tell me what happened here, Troy?"
"Byers tripped. He really should watch where he's going," Troy says. James laughs.
Steve's glare goes even more icy, more disdainful (it's so fucking hot, Eddie hates it). "You want to take that again? And try being honest this time, or you're suspend from the team."
Troy splutters for long enough that Eddie finally notices Will's stricken face, the sketchpad and snapped colored pencils littering the linoleum.
"I saw you take those things from Will, and unfortunately, I'll have to call your parents and you will be responsible for purchasing a new sketchbook and pencils. You're also benched for the next four games."
The boys shout, but when Steve raises a hand they quiet immediately. "You want to complain more, or do you want it to be five games?"
"No, sir," they answer before scampering off.
Harrington faces Dustin and Will. "You boys okay?" he asks them.
"We're good, Mr. H," Dustin answers.
"Glad to hear it." Steve begins collecting Will's ruined belongings, stops to study one of the drawings.
"This is really good, Will."
Will flushes. "Thanks. It's my character for dnd,"
"Dnd? That's that game that El and Max are always talking about? With the character sheets and the dice?"
"Yeah!" says Dustin. "You know it?"
Steve's smile is a little bashful, and it tugs at Eddie's heart in a way he has to ignore. "Not much. Just from what the girls have said. You want to tell me about it?"
"Really?" Their eyes light up.
"Really. You can stop by the gym during lunch. Only if you want to, though."
"Cool," says Dustin.
He pats them both on the shoulder, and they hurry away, leaving Steve and Eddie suddenly alone.
Eddie should head back to his class, hasn't been needed in this situation at all, really, but before he can disappear, Steve spots him and his eyes widen.
"You need something, Munson?" Steve's cheeks go a faint pink.
He shakes his head, feels wrong-footed. "Uh, that was really cool what you did just there."
"They're really good kids," Steve says. "I know them a little. Used to babysit El Hopper." He slides his hands into the pockets of his khakis and, seriously, fuck Harrington for looking like that in a pair of Dockers.
"Babysitter, Harrington? Never thought I'd see the day. Or that you'd be the one defending a bunch of nerds," Eddie says. He means it teasing, but Steve's face warps into a frown.
"Y--yeah, I guess. I mean. I'm trying not to be that guy anymore, and Robin's really helped--"
"Shit, man, I'm sorry. That's not what I meant, at all--"
"--I feel terrible about all that shit I pulled back in school. That King Steve stuff? I was awful and you didn't deserve--"
"Steve!" Eddie cuts him off. "I forgive you. For everything." He looks down at his shoes. "For all I didn't want to believe it, you really have changed."
They're both pink faced now, avoiding each other's eyes. "Thanks," Steve says. "I should get going, but--for the future-- I really wouldn't mind--um--trying to be friends."
The grin that passes across Eddie's face is huge. "Yeah, Harrington, I'd like that."
Eddie has to run to make it to his classroom on time. He passes Dustin and Will and the rest of their gaggle of friends, rushing them along, but forgets all about it as he steps in front of his third period juniors.
---
He and Steve are...friendly now. They chat, they joke, they share smiles that have Eddie's heart beating too fast even though it's not like that. Turns out Steve is kind and funny (a little bit of a bitch too, but in a way that ties Eddie's stomach in knots), and a hell of a teacher.
---
His freshman are in small groups, peer-reviewing an essays, when Max Mayfield catches his eye. She's one of his favorite students and absolute trouble.
"What's up, Mayfield." He asks.
"Are you friends with Mr. Harrington?" She asks.
He chuckles. "Sure, Max, we're friendly enough. Why?"
She narrows her eyes, like she knows he's not being totally honest. "Oh, nothing. He just talks about you all the time."
He's blushing horribly and Max, and all of her friends, smirk up at him. "He does?" He chokes out.
"Mmhmm," Lucas Sinclair says. "Says he thinks you're really cool."
"Definitely one of the best teachers here," Mike Wheeler adds.
Eddie rolls his eyes. "Okay, very funny, guys. How're your essays going?"
They answer, but before Eddie goes to help another group, Will says, "he really does like you, Mr. Munson. A lot."
El nods earnestly up at him. "It is true," she says. "I know him."
"Thanks, kids. I'll keep that in mind." He gives them a smile, tries not to let their words get to him. When he reaches the next group, though, he notices his hands are shaking.
---
Gifts start turning up in Eddie's cubby. It starts with a bag of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies from his favorite bakery. There's a small note that says "from your secret admirer," on the packaging. Every two weeks or so, something new shows up in his little mailbox; a woven friendship bracelet, a yellow rose, Hershey kisses, a delicately painted dnd figure that gives Eddie a small crisis because it's his own bard character, an Iron Maiden cassette, a bag of dice that almost brings him to genuine tears.
Eventually, he gets another note. This one is typed and reads: "I would love to have coffee with you 11am this Saturday at the Cafe on Main Street."
---
He walks into the cafe at 10:50am, wearing his favorite pair of ripped black jeans and a burgundy button-down, his hair pulled into a loose bun. He doesn't recognize anyone there.
Eddie gets in line, studies the menu, and the little bell above the door rings. He whips towards the sound to find none other than Steve Harrington in little wire rim glasses, a butter colored sweater, and jeans the man must have painted on, Jesus Christ. Honestly, the whole thing is enough to give Eddie a coronary (and to, embarrassingly, chub up in his own tight jeans).
"Steve?" He asks. He's overwhelmed with the (stupid, stupid) hope that it's been Harrington all along. "What are you doing here?"
"Henderson asked me to meet him. He around?"
"Uh, no?" Eddie feels heat creeping up his throat.
Steve shakes his head, as though he expected as much. "You alone? We could grab drink."
"I can't believe this." Eddie hides his face in his hands, knows it's gone horrifyingly crimson.
"What's wrong?"
"My secret admirer told me to be here now, so we could meet," Eddie's misery slices through his words. "I'm such an idiot."
"I--your--what?" Steve stammers.
He gathers himself enough to look Steve in his hazel eyes and ask, "I'm assuming it wasn't you leaving notes and gifts for me at work?"
And he expects Steve to say no. To laugh and ask why he'd ever do something like that, but instead, instead he flushes a deep red. "O-only one note."
"What?"
"I, uh," Steve clears his throat. "I left you a note. On Valentine's Day. I--we weren't friends yet, and I wanted you to know how much I liked you. It's --uh--it's pretty silly, huh? Robin's--"
"Steve," Eddie interrupts. He's going to tell Steve that he reads the note often enough that he has parts memorized; that it's the kindest thing anyone has done for him, but what he says instead is, "Dustin Henderson told you to meet him here at 11?"
"Yeah. Said he had something to show me."
Eddie remembers running into Will and Dustin and their friends that day in the hall, the weird conversation in class, the dice and the miniature. Something must click for Steve at the same time because his mouth drops, blush getting somehow deeper.
"Oh my god. Henderson! I'm gonna kill him. They figured out I had a crush on you."
"They WHAT?" Eddie says, loud enough that several looks are aimed their way.
"I'm so, so sorry, Eddie. Holy shit, this is so humiliating. You have to believe me, I had no idea they were doing this. God, I'm really starting to think it is possible to die from embarrassment."
"You have a crush on me," Eddie says instead of any of the dozens of helpful things he could say.
"Um. Yes?"
Eddie takes a deep breath, straightens his spine, and asks, "You wanna have coffee with me?"
"I'd really like that." Steve's return smile is so beautiful, it makes Eddie weak.
---
Eddie Munson is making out with Steve Harrington in the backseat of Steve's BMW. He and Steve spent the day together. They've kissed for so long that the sun has set, both of their lips are swollen, their skin red from stubble, and Eddie is nowhere near ready for the night to end.
Steve breaks away, gently pulling their mouths apart, but arms still tight around Eddie. "Hey, what kind of gifts were they giving you anyway? The kids?"
"Oh," Eddie blushes. "Uh, cookies, a dnd mini, lots of candy, a set of dice."
"Oh my god," Steve says, he pulls a little more away. "Oh my god, I'm going to kill her, Jesus Christ."
"Who are are you killing, sweetheart?"
Steve groans. "Robin. She was helping them. We found a set of dice at this little bookstore and she told me to get them for you, and--" he breaks off with a helpless, frustrated noise.
Eddie doesn't mean to, but he starts to giggle.
"It's not funny!" Steve says.
That only makes Eddie laugh harder. "Your best friend," he squeaks. "And a group of literal children set us up. That's hilarious, Harrington."
Steve's mouth drops and for a second Eddie thinks he'll be upset, but then he's giggling too, his whole face crumpling into it.
Steve pulls Eddie close once the laughter subsides, his eyes trained on Eddie's lips.
"We could pretend we didn't get together," Eddie manages to say.
"What, like, make them think they failed?"
"Yeah. We could tell them I got stood up, but you and I hung out. Had a bro day."
Steve giggles again, and it's the best sound Eddie's ever heard. "I'm absolutely on board with this plan, but you should definitely kiss me some more."
"Oh, yeah?" Eddie asks, his voice low. "And what'll I get out of it?"
"Why don't you get over here and see."
As if Eddie could turn down an invite that enticing. He slides a hand behind Steve's head, drawing him in, and they're kissing like they never stopped. It only been a few hours, but Eddie knows--without a doubt--he's already head over heels.
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luveline · 3 months
Note
Hi Jade! I absolutely love your writing, especially when you write for Eddie or Steve. Love these two. I was wondering if you could write about an insucure reader who has been rejected a lot and doesn't believe it when someone actually starts loving her for who she is. I'd love this with either Eddie or Steve . You can choose who you want to write for. If you don't wanna write something like this, that's fine too. Just know that I love your writing!
ty for requesting!! —you have a hard time believing eddie loves you, but he does. fem, 1.1k
“Oh my god.” 
Eddie freaks you out when he talks like that. His voice turns hoarse, almost grainy, like he’s in shock, or he can’t get a grip. 
“That’s what you’re wearing?” he asks. 
“It’s not alright?” you ask, looking down at your outfit. It’s just jeans and a chunky cardigan. He sounds like he loves it, but your brain goes straight to worry anyhow. 
“No, not alright.” He leans back against your pillows, his arms behind his head and his biceps doing something cruel against his shirt sleeves. “Not alright at all. Do a spin?” 
You shake your head severely. 
“Doll,” he says, pouting gently. “Please?” 
“No, if it looks bad, I’ll change,” you say. 
“It doesn’t look bad! I’m kidding. You look the opposite of bad, so do a spin!” 
You love his voice and the way he talks, and you love him —though of course he doesn’t know it— so you end up doing a slow spin for him in your bedroom. You’ve buttoned the top button of your cardigan and it’s a very static movement, but he oohs, ahs, and sits up quickly. 
“Yeah, you look fucking beautiful.” 
“Boo,” you mumble. 
“Just as I suspected you would.” He gestures you forward. “Wait, come over here a second.” 
Eddie says wait as an act of persuasion, or a white lie; he makes it sound as though there’s something urgent afoot, but there never is. He grabs your arm when you’re close enough, then your back, looking up into your face imploringly. “I just wanted to look at you.” Being held like this warms you from the inside out. His hand scrunches your cardigan and shirt, the other bringing your arm to his chest. “But you guessed that.” 
“No, I…” You smile in a flat line. “You’re sure I look good?” 
“Of course I am. I was kidding,” he says, softer now. “You know? I was being sarcastic, because you look that good it’s crazy to imply you look bad. I promise.” 
You sit down on the bed beside him. 
“You look so pretty,” he says. 
You nod as a strange ache blossoms in your throat. “Sorry,” you say, wishing you could explain it to him. You weren’t always scared of what people are thinking, but past dismissal has left you off kilter, and now he’s paying the price. 
“For what, angel?” he asks, though he’s not waiting for an answer. “You’re…you do look beautiful, you do, I’m not messing around. Well, I was. But I’m not now, so don’t be sorry, and don’t worry. I love this stuff, I fucking love the jeans, you have nice thighs,” —he laughs at your tired sigh— “and I love buttons. These buttons are great.” 
You let your cheek rest gently on his arm, still laughing. He’s such a sweetheart when he wants to be, but he’s not half as cool as he thinks he is. He’s too earnest to be a bad boy. “Thank you.” 
“I love you.” 
You shake your head. Eddie’s wrapping his arms around you, pulling you closer, face encouraged into his neck. “I do,” he says gently. “I’ve told you before, haven’t I?” 
“Yes.” 
He brings his hand to the back of your neck. “Mm. And have I given you any reason to think I’m lying?” 
“I don’t think you’re lying, I just think that… that I… you know.”
“I know. Doesn’t make it true.” He sounds a peculiar mixture of sad and happy at once. Find concern, perhaps, or loving derision. “I love you, and I’d love it if you walked around in bobbly sweaters and clogs. I don’t care what you wear, ‘cos it’s you.” 
“There’s nothing even that good about me to feel that way for.” 
“You don’t think so, but I do.” He turns his face down to you and presses the bridge of his nose to your temple. 
His t-shirt smells like clary soap. You curl your hand into the front of it, the soft wall of his abdomen underneath a familiar comfort. He hugs you tighter still. Eddie’s told you he loves you a few times, and you’d thought that when a guy finally felt the same way about you, everything would be fixed, you could say it back and live happily ever after, but it hasn’t worked out that way so far. Every time he tells you he loves you, you’re paralysed by the idea that he can’t. But then he holds you like this and you start to wonder if he’s telling the truth. 
He kisses the side of your face. “You okay?” he asks, kissing you again to punctuate. 
“Yes. Yeah.” You work your arms behind his back and squeeze him. 
Eddie encourages your head back carefully. He meets your eyes; all you can see is his irises, deeply brown, and his long lashes where they tent together. You’re too close to see his lips, but you can sense that he’s smiling from the warmth in his eyes and the slight droop of his eyelids. 
“Kiss?” he murmurs. 
You hum a yes. Eddie nudges your nose with his until there’s space to kiss you, your lips pressed tight and then less so, a dance of sweet kisses. You relax under his touch, the physical evidence of his affection, so totally that your back clicks. He smiles into your mouth but pulls away, too tempted by the opportunity to make a joke. 
“You need a masseuse,” he says, bringing his hand to your cheek. 
“No, I don’t.” You can practically see the steam radiating off of your cheeks. 
“You totally do. I could give you a massage, babe. I’m really good.” 
“No… we’re going to the movies.” 
“See, that sounds like you do want one. I can give you one later.” 
You look at him for too long, his brows pulling together in concern, but it’s nothing he has to worry about. “Love you,” you say quickly, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in for another hug. 
His arm stutters at your side. ���I love you,” you correct. The ‘I’ is important, especially when he’s never heard it from you before. It’s easy to love someone so patient, and so funny. 
He hugs you tight and sudden. “Yeah,” he says, “I love you too.” His watch digs into your spine. You don’t tell him. It’ll probably bruise, but you just don’t care. It’s nice to be loved fiercely. 
1K notes · View notes
flowersandbigteeth · 1 month
Note
Looking for a saucy medieval tradition to weave into your historical romances? Have no fear, foot-of-the-gallows marriage is here! Basically, if a man was about to be hanged and a woman stepped forward and said “I will marry this man!” he was spared because it was was seen as like “oh, she’ll rehabilitate him so we don’t have to kill him.” Now, I heard this from tiktok, so I could be wrong, and it could just be a folk tale or something that rarely happened in actuality. Either way, it’s a cool troupe I think more people should use (and I myself will be using). I think it would work really well with Orcs and Elves!
This is such an intriguing idea! I had to try it. If you end up writing it, tag me, if you are comfortable! I'd love to see what you do with it ^_^
I keep getting Orc ideas, and I can't resist them *feral invasive Orc thoughts* ( ̄ w ̄)Ψ
Orc (Saber) x GN elf reader
Word Count: 6K
TW: discussion of hanging, bad mother, sfw Orc fluff, a bit of melancholy with a happy ending, nonsexual mention of private body parts in the context of bathing
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“Goodness, what’s this all about?” you grumbled, clutching your basket closer to you as you made your way through the crowd. 
The stench of rotten vegetables and too many people lingered in the air. 
“It’s a hanging,” a helpful imp beamed, hopping on his tiptoes to see over the crowd. Why people gathered all around to watch someone die, you had no idea, but more importantly, the crowd was blocking your path home. Industrious vendors selling ale and popcorn wove through the throng to collect what coins they could from the event. In the capital, everyone had a hustle, and few left the chance to make some money at the table. 
“Out of the way!” You shouted, shouldering whoever was unlucky enough to be in your way. 
The voice of the city guardsman who was reading off a list of offenses to the crowd drowned yours out, but with a few well-placed shoves, you managed to make it to the front. You were looking around, trying to figure out how to get across the plaza, when you glanced up to see a familiar face. 
“It’s you!” you blurted as your eyes locked with the brilliant chartreuse irises of the Orc standing on the gallows. 
He gave you a wan smile, lifting his tied hands to wave at you. His straight nose was up in the air as if all the rabble around him should be fortunate to have the privilege of watching him die. The thick olive locs you remembered being long had been roughly chopped short around his ears. Still, even dressed in an ill-fitting prison jumpsuit, he had a regal air about him. His barrel chest was puffed, strong muscles peaking between the frayed fabric. 
“Fifty counts of robbery…25 counts of counterfeiting gold coins…seven counts of horse theft…”
The Orc you’d met before’s name was Saber. He’d helped you get your broken cart into town one rainy afternoon…, and then he’d also stolen your necklace, which you’d realized after he’d disappeared. 
“As per the King’s edict, If any citizen pledges to save this soul from the gallows by way of marriage, please step forth.” 
Though he was handsome, no one raised their hands to save him. Instead, they all booed. Judging by the rotten vegetables hurled at him, he seemed to have robbed almost everyone in the capital. 
“Aye!” you shouted, hiking up your pants to pull yourself onto the stage. 
The guardsmen’s eyebrows shot up when you’d straightened yourself.
“I’ll marry the sorry bastard.” 
“Are you sure? He’ll most likely rob you and run off. He’s better off dead.” 
“I have business with this one,” you informed him, snapping your fingers. “Come on then. Let’s get this over with.” 
The guardsman shrugged and jerked the noose off of his neck, a little disappointed. The crowd wasn’t happy either, hurling insults along with their vegetables. 
“Quiet! Quiet!” the guardsman shouted after shoving Saber forward for the “ceremony.”
He took a deep breath, jerking a notebook out of his pocket.
“Alright,” he began, snorting. “State your name for the record.” 
“(Y/N).”
“Lovely elven name,” he murmured as he jotted it down. “Now then, do you (Y/N) take this here, criminal, Saber Wintermaple to be your lawfully wedded husband?” 
You gave him a sharp nod. 
“I do.” 
He swung a lazy eye at Saber. 
“Do you Saber Wintermaple, take this kind elf to be your betrothed?” 
He gave you a bright smile. 
“I do.” 
The guardsman snapped the book closed, shoving Saber towards you. 
“I hereby declare you two duly betrothed under the King’s law. This Orc is your problem now, citizen. You’d better keep him out of trouble, or you’ll be up here next to him!”
He handed you the thick rope looped around the binding, keeping Saber’s hands tied, and waved you two off. The audience, bored without bloodshed, had already started dispersing, making it easy for you to tug Saber towards the road leading to the forest. 
“I didn’t know I made such a pleasant impression,” Saber said cheerfully, following you out of town.
You whirled around and jammed a finger in his face. 
“I wouldn’t describe it as pleasant. You owe me a gold necklace! Give it back, or you can work off the coin you owe me!” 
He chuckled.
“I’m fresh out of coins, little elf.” 
He scratched his chin and looked up, thinking. 
“I’m pretty sure I lost that necklace in a game of dice.” 
He shrugged. 
“You lost my only possession of any value in a game of dice?” 
You scrubbed your hand over your face, counting back from ten so you didn’t explode.  
“Maybe I should have let you die.”
Frowning, you looked over him from toe to head. 
“At least you look strong enough. I’m sure I can find something useful for you to do!” 
You stopped where the two of you stood in the middle of the trail and pulled a small charm from your basket. 
“I was going to use this on my coin purse since there was a thief on the loose, but it’s probably better applied to you!” 
You looped the charm around his neck, closing your eyes to whisper the spell. A gust of spirit wind, fluffed your hair as the magic twirled around Saber. When you opened your eyes again, there was a blue thread linking the two of you that only you could see. 
“What was that?” he asked, narrowing his eyes on you. 
“It’s a binding spell, so you can’t run off with my stuff again,” you explained.
His eyebrows jumped, and he tugged at the little talisman around his neck. 
“It won’t come off.” 
You nodded proudly. 
“Exactly.”
He took a moment to examine you carefully, tapping his chin again. 
“Interesting,” he murmured.  
“What? What does that mean?” 
He smiled and shrugged.
“Lead the way, spouse.” 
You sighed, turning and pulling him through the bumpy trail in the woods to your little home. When you’d fled your homeland to the Capital, you’d been lucky to find an abandoned cottage outside the city walls. It wasn’t massive, with only the basic living quarters, but it must have at some point belonged to someone’s Saber’s size, as the door and counters were much too high. You’d spent much of the money you earned selling charms and ointments, buying stools and ladders to reach things. 
“You poor thing,” Saber sighed as you passed through the magic barrier you’d cast to keep your home hidden from bandits.
“You don’t need to patronize me,” you huffed. “You’re the one almost hanged and run out of town.” 
He ignored you, looking around. 
“I feel kind of bad for stealing your necklace now that I’ve seen where you live. This place is a mess.” 
You examined your home, trying to see it through his eyes. Every available surface was covered in books, alchemy equipment, or ingredients. Even the chairs were covered in cast-off scrolls, books, or charms. 
“It’d be nice to have a workshop,” you admitted. “But that’s much too expensive.”
You straightened your slumping shoulders and lifted your chin. 
“No matter, you won’t be spending much time sitting down. I’ve got loads of things that need doing.” 
He gave you a sharp nod and held out his hands. 
“You’ll have to untie me if you want me to work.” 
Pulling a small blade from your basket, you sawed through the thick binding. Free to move as he pleased, he wrung his stiff wrists as he perused your living room. Occasionally he would pick something up, then put it down again, finally crouching to examine a bucket filled with water. 
“What are you doing?” 
He peered up at the leak in the roof that was letting rainwater drip through. 
“This needs fixing, or the roof will rot out.”
Pushing off of his knees, he turned to you. 
“How long have you been living alone?” 
You blushed, embarrassed. 
“I dunno, my whole life, I guess. The elven town where I came from didn’t have an orphanage or anything, so when I was old enough, I took off toward the capital. It took a while to get here…but here I am. I thought there would be more…I don’t know…opportunity here.” 
“How has that worked out for you? Living in a house clearly not meant for you and marrying a man on the gallows.” 
You gave him an indignant snuff. 
“At least I’m not a thief!” 
He chuckled, leaning against a bookshelf, rolling a gold coin on his knuckles. Your eyes narrowed on it, and you reached in your pocket to find you’d been relieved of your day’s earnings. 
“Hey! You stole that!” 
He laughed, revealing straight white teeth, and jingled the other coins in his pocket. 
“Don’t worry, I can’t get away with it, right?” 
You sucked in a deep annoyed breath. 
“I have things to do. Make yourself useful and chop some wood. It’s going to be cold when the sun sets.” 
“Whatever you say, spouse,” he replied, giving you a sarcastic salute as you dropped your basket and hurried to the kitchen to get started on dinner. 
What had you been thinking marrying a criminal? You paused for a moment, eyes growing misty. You didn’t really think he still had your necklace, did you? You let out a sigh just short of a sob. Were you really that lonely? Maybe it hurt that he’d been so kind to you, just to trick you. You should have been happy to see him hanged, yet the lingering magic that followed all elves had whispered that you ought to save him. 
But why? You weren’t in any position to support a husband. Though you’d instructed yourself on the knowledge of various potions and charms, you weren’t the only one. The city was teaming with Academy-bred alchemists who far surpassed your skill. They had access to rare ingredients and an army of assistants. You had to scrape out a living selling your wares far cheaper than the competition even to get noticed at the market. Hustling day to day, you certainly didn’t have the time or money to pretty yourself up to find a partner. 
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” you grumbled, returning to chopping tubers for soup. 
A thick THWACK, drew your eyes out the kitchen window to Saber splitting logs across the lawn. He’d divested himself of his ratty shirt, and every thick muscle was on display as he lifted the ax over his head and dropped it down again. The logs felt apart like they were nothing more than twigs under his might. 
Your eye focused on the dark, wet slashes across his shoulder blades where his jailors had beaten him. He must have felt your eyes on him because he glanced up and waved. Blushing, you hurriedly pulled the curtains, returning to your task. 
Unable to get his injuries out of your mind, you felt bad for making him chop wood while he was hurt. When you’d plopped the tubers into your cooking pot, you gathered up some healing and numbing salves, making your way out the door. 
“Need something?” he asked, looking up from his task. 
“Sit down,” you barked. 
A thick eyebrow rose, and he tipped his head. 
“Why? Planning on lobbing my head off?” 
You wrinkled your nose at him. 
“No, of course not! You’re massive. How would I even go about burying your body? I can’t have a rotting corpse stinking up the place. Just sit!” 
He leaned his axe against the stump he was using to brace the wood and sat down on it. You dug in your basket, pulling out some cleanser to clean the wounds. Beside the big ugly gashes, Saber’s skin was a smooth, pretty green, the planes of his muscles sharp and defined. The first brush of your hand on his back made him jump. 
“S-sorry,” you muttered.
“‘Ts fine. Just not used to people touching me. Go on.” 
You spread the thick gel you used carefully over each angry line. 
“What do you mean? You’ve never had a partner before me?” 
He paused for a moment before he jerked his head. 
“I had a girlfriend once, but she left me.” 
“Why?” 
“Some noble offered her his hand and well…I couldn’t compete.”
He sighed. 
“She was happy to keep me on as her side piece, but I’ve got too much of an ego to be someone’s toy.” 
Your eyebrows jumped at his candor, but you just hummed, plastering clean wraps to his skin so the wounds could heal. His skin was warm under your fingers, making the tips tingle. When you were done, you found yourself tipping forward on your toes to peck the back of his neck. When you’d realized what you’d done, your ears burned, and you coughed loudly. 
“Sorry, ah…sorry,” you muttered, unsure what to say. “You’re…ah…going to have to sleep on your stomach, so you don’t make these worse.” 
He swiveled around to look at you, smiling. 
“Thanks, doc!”
“I’m not a doctor.” 
He shrugged. 
“What’s the difference?” 
“Ten years of special-”
You shook your head, realizing he was teasing you.
“I think that’s enough wood for tonight. Come inside. Dinner’s almost ready.” 
He grinned at you, his stomach grumbling, as he scooped up some of the wood he’d cut and tucked it under one arm. You wondered how much they let him eat in prison, worried he was starving. 
“What’d my sweet little spouse cook for me?” he asked. 
“Just some sweet potato soup. It’s not gourmet.” 
He frowned. 
“No meat?” 
You blinked at him. 
“You have all the money I made today in your pocket. How can I afford meat with those few coins?” 
He nodded, appearing to be thinking through the problem thoroughly. 
When you returned inside, you dipped the two of you bowls of soup, filling his twice as much as yours. You assured yourself it was because he couldn’t work without proper nutrition, not because you liked him. 
“So how far does this magic thingie let me go?” he asked as you sat down at the table. 
“Why, trying to run off?” 
He smirked. 
“No, why would I want to run away from you?” 
He chewed on a big spoonful of sweet potatoes before he continued. 
“I’ve got a cute little spouse who makes me dinner and kisses my cuts.” 
Your cheeks blew up in flames, and you choked on a mouthful of soup. You tried to retain your composure by quickly wiping your mouth with a napkin. 
“A couple of miles in any direction.” 
“Wow, didn’t think you’d give me such a long leash.” 
You shrugged. 
“I can’t be right at your side every minute.” 
He gave you the biggest puppy dog eyes you’d ever seen. 
“You don’t want me by your side every minute of the day?” 
Unsure if he was joking or not, you jerked your spoon at his soup. 
“Let’s…stop talking for a while. Eat up. You’ll need your strength.” 
While the two of you ate quietly, you did your best to keep your eyes on your bowl. Every time you happened to glance up, he was watching you with an odd smile on his face. Almost like satisfaction. 
You were relieved when you finally finished and could turn your back on him to rinse the dishes. 
“You can take the bed if you want,” you called over your shoulder as you stood on your tip toes to return the bowls to the cabinet. As your arm stretched, Saber appeared behind you, plucking the dishes out of your hand and easily placing them where they were supposed to go. 
“Where are you going to sleep?” he asked, extending a hand to help you off of the little ladder you were perched on. 
“There’s a couch in the living room.” 
He wrinkled his nose. 
“It’s covered in stuff.” 
You shrugged, trying to hurry past him. 
“I’ll clean it up.”
You found your feet swinging in the air as he picked you up and tossed you over his shoulder. 
“Wh-what are you doing?” 
“My spouse is not sleeping on the sofa. I never thought I’d have a spouse, so I’ve got to take proper care of you.” 
He patted your butt for emphasis. 
“Are you crazy?” you snapped, only not banging on his back with your fists because he was injured. “We can’t sleep together! We just met!” 
Your body bounced on his shoulder as he chuckled. 
“You weren’t concerned with that when you insisted on marrying me!” 
“They were going to kill you!” 
He flopped you down on your bed, caging you in with his big arms. His head dipped to drag the tip of his nose along the length of your neck. 
“So you do like me!” he whispered into your skin. 
“I do not,” you huffed, pushing his chest.
Though your muscles did nothing to move him, he rose so you could scoot out across the bed. You quickly scrambled into the bathroom to change into your pajamas. 
When you came back out, Saber was slipping off his pants. 
“What are you doing now?” You gasped, cheeks heating at the sight of the thick shaft hanging between his legs.  
He glanced up, a slight smirk on his face as he folded his clothes. 
“I can't sleep in these prison clothes. I'll get the sheets all dirty!” 
You sighed, rubbing your eyes. He was right. He was filthy from sleeping on dirty straw in prison. 
“Come on,” you said, flicking two fingers at him. “You need a bath. You’re probably covered in fleas! 
Fortunately, your house came equipped with one large enough to fit Saber’s big body. With a flick of your fingers, the tub was filled, and with a few whispers of a spell, the water was hot. 
“Get in,” you said. 
Making himself comfortable, he looked back at you over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised. 
“You tryin’ to watch? Naughty little elf!” 
You let out a long sigh. 
“No, I’m just going to ensure you don’t get your bandages wet, or it will all have been a waste. Supplies are expensive,” you huffed, picking up the sponge. “Now, sit still!”
Saber smirked but let you lift each of his arms as you scrubbed him. 
“So how did your old girlfriend take it when you decided you wouldn’t be your affair partner?”
He glanced at you, eyes ever thoughtful. His long look brought heat to your cheeks. 
“Sorry, you don’t have to answer that.” 
He shrugged, his jaw tightening. 
“She was rather smug. She spent her whole life wishing to elevate herself.” 
A long sigh slipped past his lips. 
“I could never make her happy. I lied, cheated, stole; whatever I could do…but she looked down her nose at all of it.”
Your mouth fell open. 
“I’m…I’m sorry. You don’t have to…”
He waved a thick hand, his warm palm gently landing on your head and lightly ruffling your hair. 
“Think nothing of it. It’s kind of nice to get it off my chest.” 
“So that’s why you're a crook? To make her happy?”
He smirked. 
“I was a crook. Now I’m a married man. I can’t get into trouble. I have a spouse who relies on me.” 
He pinched your chin. 
“Prison was difficult enough without knowing I was missing out on such a cute little face. Now, it would crush me.” 
Your cheeks burned even hotter, and you jerked your head away, grabbing the nearest towel and tossing it to him. 
“Careful, don’t jostle your bandages,” you wheezed before making your escape. “Whoever lived here before left some clothes in the chest by the door. They ought to fit.” 
You were so busy slowing your beating heart that you blew out the lantern and slid into your bed without thinking Saber would soon follow. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to feign sleep, when you heard his heavy footsteps approach. He paused for a moment, doing Goddess knows what, before he carefully laid down next to you. 
The mattress dipped under his weight, and your body slid into his. You heard him draw in a sharp breath as your warm forms pressed together. 
“Mind your wounds. Make sure you sleep on your side,” you whispered into the darkness. 
You felt him adjust slightly, and then a heavy arm draped over your waist. Despite yourself, it was warm and the weight felt nice. Comforting. Now that he’d used your soap, he smelled like home. His breath brushed the hairs on your neck and another arm slid underneath you to use as a pillow. You would have pulled away, but you’d never slept so close to someone before. 
Living on the street for most of your life, left you with scars. You didn’t realize how deep they’d cut you until Saber’s large body curled around yours. You felt safe. 
When you woke the next morning, the bed next to you was empty. Your heart thumped heavily in your chest, wondering where he’d gone. Had it all been a dream? 
The pile of dirty prison clothes folded and placed on top of a chest proved that it had not. 
Breathing slowly, in the meditation you’d taught yourself, you stretched your awareness out, reaching for the blue thread. Saber was half a mile from you. You wondered what he could possibly be doing. 
“Orc things, probably,” you muttered, making your way to the bathroom to clean yourself up. 
It wasn’t like he could run off; there was nothing in that direction but trees. Through the window, you could see the sun up over the tree line, telling you that you’d slept much later than usual. 
Usually, you’d have left at sunrise to sell your wares in the Capital market, but it was far too late now. Instead, you grabbed an apple from the kitchen and started fussing with your alchemy materials. Now that Saber was living with you, you were sure you needed to straighten up so he didn’t break something. 
Walking across the room, you automatically skipped around the bucket on the floor; only the bucket was gone. You frowned, but looking at the ceiling, someone had replaced one of the boards with a fresh one. Had Saber done that while you were sleeping? 
You huffed, returning to straightening your books. At least he’s putting himself to work. 
You were trying to remember the order in which a pair of books written in ancient elven were arranged alphabetically when the bell above your door jingled. 
Since your home was hidden with magic, the bell told you someone was nearby. It was a charm you rarely used. No one had any reason to look for you. The most it had rung was when you ordered a special cauldron or tomb and happened to have the cash to have it delivered. 
Curious if a traveler was lost, you put your books down and wandered outside. 
“Morning, spouse!” 
Saber’s voice made you jump when he appeared hauling a deer on his shoulders. 
“What’s that?” 
He shrugged the creature off of his shoulders. 
“Meat!” he announced proudly. 
You nodded at him, your eyes catching on his bare chest, glazed with a sheen of sweat. 
“Where are you off to?” he asked. 
“Someone is here,” you murmured, forcing your gaze from the sharp planes of his muscles to continue down the path. 
A shadow draped over you, and you glanced up to see him looming. 
“What are you doing?” 
“I’m going with you. It could be someone dangerous.” 
You shook your head but continued on your way with him in tow. 
“Helloooo? Helllloooo?” 
A female voice was screaming through the trees. When you rounded the bend, your eyes landed on an expensive carriage and a beautiful fairy shouting at the top of her lungs.  Her pink hair fell in glittering curls around her shoulders, and matching wings emerged from her back.
“Damn it! Saber! Where the fuck are you?” 
“Can I help you?” you asked as you stepped through your magic barrier. 
Her eyes narrowed, but not on you. She looked directly behind you. 
“Saber! There you are!” 
She grinned, fluttering her winds and flying past you. Irritation immediately pricked your heart as the woman threw her arms around him. Turning around, you found him looking at her with wide eyes. 
“Melody…what are you doing here? How did you find me?” 
“I’m here to see you, of course. I heard you were going to be hung, but an elf saved you! I asked around the market and was told you’d been taken here. I was so worried!” 
When she cupped his chin with her delicate hand, you crossed your arms, eyes narrowing. 
“Not someone. Me.” you interjected. 
You marched towards Saber and grabbed him by the arm. 
“Saber is my husband. Who are you?” 
She wrinkled her nose at you, ignoring your question. Her hand slid down Saber’s chest despite you. 
“Is there someplace we can talk? Privately?” 
Saber’s shocked face tightened. 
“I don’t think that’s an appropriate ask in front of my spouse, Melody.” 
She scoffed. 
“You’ve been married…what? 8 hours? Saber, I think I more than deserve a little of your time. Especially as the mother of your child.” 
Your jaw dropped, and your hand pulled away from Saber. It was true, you’d only known him for a few hours, but a child was something he ought to have mentioned. 
His brow drew, looking between you and her. 
“What child?” 
She huffed, frowning at you. 
“Fine…If you must do this, this way.” 
She turned to the carriage and yelled. 
“Nora, bring the baby!” 
A maid climbed out of the carriage holding a small whimpering bundle. You gasped as the woman presented Saber with a little green newborn. 
Saber’s eyes popped, his mouth opening and closing as the maid pressed the child into his hands. 
“This…he…is mine?” 
Melody nodded. 
“Yes, and it’s time for you to take responsibility.” 
He glanced up at her. 
“You want to get back together?” 
She let out a cruel but trilling laugh. 
“Oh heavens no. I need you to take him. Dante hasn’t seen him yet. He thinks I’ve delivered his child. I had the maids tell him I was recovering for the past month so I could sneak him out. If he finds out I’ve been carrying your baby this whole time, he’ll throw me out on the street!” 
Anger roiled under your skin. 
“So what baby are you going to present to him?” you demanded. 
She snorted as if that were a foolish question. 
“I’ll get a baby from the slums. Plenty of mothers would happily give their child the life of a Lord’s son without question.”
She fluttered her iridescent wings. 
“It only need be a fairy child.” 
You could see the pain and confusion settle on Saber’s face. Stepping between the two of them, you gently pried the bundle out of Saber’s hands, looking at his cute little button nose and glossy baby curls. 
“Of course, we will take him, but on one condition.” 
She glanced at you. 
“What do you want? Money?”
You let out a tight chuff. 
“No. We never want to see you again. If he is our baby, he is ours. Don’t think you can change your mind and come running back here looking for him or Saber. The second you step foot in your carriage, this child and my husband are dead to you.” 
Her eyes jerked to Saber. 
“Saber. You can’t mean that. Of course, I want to see you…Dante, however, can’t know. You understand, don't you? This is everything we've dreamed about! You ought to support me!"
You scoffed, rolling your eyes.
"I grew up in the gutter, too," you hissed. "But I'd never treat someone the way you have treated my husband. He is too good for you and I won't tolerate you buzzing around us like a nasty fly."
She glared at you.
"He's my child! You're just jealous Saber and I have history!"
Saber's jaw locked, and he put his arm around you, giving her a disgusted grimace. 
“Have you named him?” he asked. 
She looked contrite but lifted her chin. 
“I…ah…it didn’t occur to me...” 
He nodded and glanced down at you, holding his child. 
“Then…I agree with (Y/N). You’ll never know his name. You’ll never see him grow. You’ll never return to ruin our peace.” 
“But Saber-” 
“Don’t say my husband’s name, either.” you snapped. “You thought you’d come here and drop all of your responsibilities in his lap and then keep stringing him along as a toy? It’s not going to work like that. You have your family, and we have ours.” 
You jerked your chin at her. 
“Make your choice. Either leave the child or be prepared to explain to your husband who he belongs to. Those are the only options.”
Her pretty face contorted into an ugly, wrinkled mask, and she lifted her skirt to turn on her heels. 
“Fine! It’s not like I want the child of a thief anyway!”  
Snapping at her maid, she hovered back to her carriage, and they disappeared down the road in a cloud of dust. You smiled down at the little baby, who’d managed to sleep through the drama. 
“Saber, I know I shouldn’t have spoken for you…I just- He deserves better than to grow up with the knowledge his mother believes him to be less than. Can you imagine him living as her secret? Sneaking around to hide him? If she passed him in the street, she’d ignore him to preserve her status. He’d be heartbroken. I won’t let that happen. I hope I didn’t overstep, but I’m not sorry for it.” 
He dropped to his knees, eyes wet, and pushed his head into your shoulder. His big arms wrapped around your waist, squeezing you tight.
“You said just the right thing,” he murmured, then turned his head to look at his son. “What should we name him?” 
You smiled at him. 
“Let’s talk it over over lunch.” 
The two of you walked back down the path together, both having a hard time keeping your gaze off the baby. He wriggled in his sleep, making you both see hearts.
“Maybe we should move,” you murmured. “Just to be sure…and to give him a fresh start.” 
He looked down at you. 
“You won’t miss this place?” 
You sighed. 
“No…this is just a house. We have a family now. He should grow up in a happy little town, not the capital…we’ll have to save for a few months, but I think we can do it.” 
“We don’t have to save. I have plenty of money.” 
You froze in your tracks, looking up at him.
“What? I thought you said you were broke?” 
He smiled down at you. 
“I meant I didn't have any coin on me. I didn’t just piss all of my ill-gotten gains away. I hid them. Follow me.” 
He tugged the two of you into the forest, walking quite a ways until you reached an oddly placed rock. Saber crouched down and uprooted a bush with a stiff jerk. Then he cleared the soil away, revealing a wooden chest. He turned the little dial a few ways until it clicked, and the chest opened with a creak. Your eyes widened at the hundreds of gold coins piled inside. He casually tugged the gold he’d lifted from you out of his pocket and tossed it inside with a metallic clink. 
“I think we can buy a nice place with this.” 
You were still completely confused. He rummaged around in the coins, producing the gold necklace he’d stolen. Standing, he fastened it around your neck with the nimble fingers of a thief.
“I thought you lost it gambling?” 
He shrugged. 
“I lied.” 
“Why did you keep it?” 
He gave you a long look.
“I’m not sure, to be honest. Something told me not to sell it.” 
“But…what about the rest? I thought you gave it all to Melody?” 
“I tried to…we grew up in the capital, in the same slums she wants to buy a baby from. It wasn’t ever about what I could provide her. She wanted to erase her past. She wanted a title…to be a lady, to be able to lift her nose at the very people she grew up with.
I started saving after she failed at her first attempt at seducing some highborn. At the time, I had this romantic dream that I could surprise her with a big house, start a business, and be the Lord she wanted so badly…but… as time passed, I realized I was already tainted in her eyes. She wanted the right blood attached to her money. It took me too long to be ready to pull away. Dante was the nail in the coffin, so to speak.” 
He tugged the chest from the ground, hauling it onto his shoulder before leading you back through the forest.  
“Even though I knew I wasn’t enough…I foolishly still loved her. I was a mess when he proposed. That’s why I got caught. I went on a bender that lasted most of a year…Fortunately, I never touched this. Maybe I held out hope since Melody still entertained my attention…but I got sloppy and ended up in jail.” 
His gaze dropped to the baby. 
“If it weren’t for you, I wouldn't have ever known about him. Anything could have happened to him if you hadn’t-”
He choked a bit, a couple of tears slipping down his cheek. You didn’t push him to finish his sentence. You knew what he was trying to say. 
“What about Arel?” you asked. 
“Arel? That sounds like an Elvin name.” 
You smiled at the little baby’s chubby cheeks. 
“It is…it means ‘treasure’.” 
He stopped, bending down to examine his son more closely. The baby’s eyes opened, and you saw that they were the same pretty chartreuse as his father’s. The two of them looked at one another in awe. 
“I like Arel,” he said, brushing a thick finger over his cheek. 
Arel’s big eyes grew wet, and he started to croon. 
Shock and worry bloomed on Saber’s face. 
“Is he okay?” 
“I think he’s hungry. I have some goat milk at home.” 
Saber straightened, and you had to almost jog to keep up with him, the two of you hurrying home to start your life as a family.
805 notes · View notes
norrussell · 6 months
Text
Water | Lando Norris⁴
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Pairings: Lando Norris x fem!reader
Summary: you go to your local gym hoping you'll see the new guy that also happened to become your gym crush. What you didn't expect is to find out that he noticed you too
Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, some dirty talk
A/N: I wrote this in like an hour or so, so it might not be the greatest of my works, but lord knows we need it after that quali session. Also the song was a big inspo 🤪
It was getting late and the gym was nearly empty. You had come to get a workout in, yet felt oddly out of sync with your body. Despite feeling drained, you sauntered through the area, your eyes lingering on the shiny metal surfaces of the exercise equipment. You were expecting solitude at this time of night, but noticed a few others around as well.
This week, you couldn't help but notice a new face at the gym. While checking him out from a distance, he has unexpectedly become someone you kind of crush on. You couldn't deny that part of your motivation for returning to the gym was the chance of seeing him again.
And just your luck, he was already there and had started his training session. You tried not to gawk, but you couldn't help it. He moved with such grace, each repetition of the exercises looking like a dance. His muscles flexed and tensed as he lifted weights and you found yourself mesmerized by the beauty of it all.
Mustering all your strength, you moved closer to one of the machines and started performing your own exercises. You sensed him looking at you without acknowledging your presence, but it was almost as if he didn’t notice you at all. Yet suddenly something out of left field happened.
"That's not correct. You're going to hurt yourself if you keep doing it like that." it was him, speaking up in a soft yet firm voice that startled you out of your daze.
You frowned a bit, confused. "This is how my personal trainer showed me to do it."
"I'm sure he did. But that's not how you do it." he grinned. "You're only going to get pain and no gain."
"And how would you know?" what you didn't expect is to get annoyed with him, but here you were, fighting the urge not to roll your eyes.
"I'm a professional athlete, I know." you could just tell this guy relished in being right and correcting people.
"Oh, yes? And what kind of athlete are you?" you snorted.
"I'm a formula 1 driver."
Your eyes widened as he said that. You had never met a professional athlete before, let alone one who drove a formula 1 car. You tried to play it cool, but your curiosity got the best of you. "That's impressive. I didn't know we had any formula 1 drivers in this town."
"You don't," he said with a smirk. "I'm just passing through for a race in a neighboring city. I like to keep up with my training while I'm on the road."
You nodded, still in shock. You had never spoken to someone so accomplished before. "Well, I'm honored to be corrected by a professional athlete. Can you show me how to do it correctly?"
He grinned and stepped closer to you, his body heat making your heart race. "Of course. I'd be happy to help. And my name is Lando, by the way."
For the next hour, Lando guided you through different exercises, correcting your form and giving you tips on how to improve. You felt a sense of gratitude towards him, appreciating the time he was taking to help you out.
He was easy to talk to as well, and you found yourself opening up to him. He, in turn, shared his own stories, and soon enough, the conversation turned flirtatious.
You didn't know if it was the adrenaline from the workout or the thrill of being in his presence, but you found yourself wanting him in a way you hadn't before.
As the gym started to empty out, you glanced at the clock and noticed that it was almost closing time. You both were still talking, and neither of you seemed to want to leave.
"We should probably get going," you said with a hint of disappointment.
He smiled and nodded his head in agreement, but then he leaned in closer and whispered into your ear. "I know a place we can go for some privacy."
Your heart raced as his words sunk in, and before you knew it, you found yourself following him out of the gym towards the locker rooms.
As soon as you entered, Lando grabbed your hand and pulled you towards one of the empty stalls. His lips crashed onto yours and you felt your body ignite with desire. His hands roamed your body, tearing every piece of clothing that restrained him from your skin, exploring every inch as you kissed him back with equal fervor.
He lifted you up with ease, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed you against the cold wall. His kisses were urgent and demanding, and you met his passion with your own. He devoured your mouth, his hands squeezing your boobs and pinching your nipples. The sensation shot straight to your core, making you arch your back and moan louder.
Lando trailed his kisses down your neck, his teeth nibbling on your skin, leaving behind a path of marks. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer to you, urging him to go further.
"You have no idea how much I've been thinking about you," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin.
"Tell me," you whispered back, loving the way his cock throbbed against your thigh.
"Thinking about what I would do to you if I had the chance."
He pushed you against the wall, his fingers parting your folds and finding your clit. He rubbed it in circles, making you shudder against him, and when he pushed his fingers inside you, you cried out.
"Tell me how bad you want my cock, baby," he growled. "Tell me."
You gasped for air as he worked his fingers inside you, your muscles tightening around them. He brought you to the brink and then stopped, leaving you to whimper in the darkness.
"Please, Lando. I need more," you begged.
"Oh, you'll get more," he grinned. "But first, you need to show me how much you want it."
You squinted your eyes in confusion at his words. Before you could ask what he meant, he placed you on your feet and pushed you towards the wall, your hands pressing against it.
"Now, I want you to touch yourself while I watch," he commanded.
You followed his instructions, your hands exploring your body and eventually slipping between your legs. Your eyes never left his gaze, and he took his time undressing. As you teased yourself by tracing circles around your clit, imagining him inside of you, the bulge in his pants was growing bigger. Finally, he removed his shorts, exposing his thick, hard member.
As soon as it sprung forward, you pushed two fingers inside yourself and moaned at the sensation. You watched as he pumped his cock in his hand, the look in his eyes filled with lust. You smiled and continued fingering yourself, arching your back and twisting your body as you watched the way his muscles tensed.
"You have no idea how bad I want to fuck you right now."
His words sent a shiver down your spine, and as you continued staring at him, he grabbed your wrist and pressed it against his cock. You bit your lip and moaned out loud as you felt the warmth of his flesh against you, stroking himself as you fucked yourself with your fingers.
He pressed his body close to yours, the heat and moisture of his skin merging with your own. His lips found their way to your neck and he kissed you ever-so-softly. You could feel his cock throbbing against your thigh. Then, his kisses intensified, with his teeth grazing gently across your skin. He suckled at your neck while his fingers dug lightly into your flesh.
"You like this, don't you?" he growled into your ear. "You like being commanded."
"Yes," you hissed. "I love it."
"I want to fuck you until you can't walk. I want you to scream so loud the whole gym can hear you. Will you do that for me?"
"Yes," you moaned again. "I will. I'll do anything you want."
"Good girl."
He grabbed your hair and forced your head back against the wall, his lips finding their way to yours again. He kissed you, his tongue pushing inside your mouth, fighting for domination. You moaned loudly, grinding your hips against his. He grabbed your ass and squeezed it, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip.
The head of his cock found its way to your entrance, and he didn't waste any time. He lifted one of your legs up and pushed himself inside. You moaned against him, your skin flushing as he filled you to the brim. He held onto you tightly as he thrust himself inside you, his hips pushing against yours. You sucked his tongue into your mouth, your body shaking as you cried out in ecstasy.
He grabbed your remaining leg and pulled you up against him, your legs instinctively twining around his waist. Taking both of your wrists in his secure grip, he held them above your head, your breasts jolting with each successive thrust. He sped up the tempo as time passed, his body pressing hard into yours.
You had never been fucked like this before, and you loved every second of it. The way he controlled your body made you feel more feminine than you ever had, and you felt yourself craving more.
He let go of your hands and you fell into him. You held him tight, your nails digging into his back. Your bodies were pressed up against each other, sticky and sweaty, and as he thrust himself inside you, you could feel his bare chest rubbing against your hard nipples. He groaned, his cock pulsing inside you as he held you close.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, your legs tightening around his waist. He groaned into your lips, his eyes locking into yours. You bit your lip and smiled, whispering "Faster."
He complied and you tried to keep quiet as he fucked you harder, but it was getting harder and harder to do so. Your breath was coming out in ragged breaths, and the sound of his skin slapping against yours filled the room.
He put you down and turned you around, pressing you against the wall again, his cock still buried inside of you as he planted kisses all over your back. He slammed into you quicker and harder, his hips colliding with your ass with every thrust.
With one hand still on your hips, Lando reached down between your legs and found your clit, teasing it as you came closer and closer to orgasm. You knew you couldn't hold on any longer, so you grabbed his hand and pulled it away from your sensitive flesh. He smiled and grabbed your face, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.
Spinning you around once more, he picked you up and put you onto his cock, your legs wrapping securely around him. You could tell he liked to be in control so much as he took charge and started moving your hips up and down his length. His fingers groped your ass, his tongue teasing your nipples as you moaned in pleasure.
You felt him swell inside you, and your own orgasm started building up inside of you. You could feel it coming closer and closer with every movement of his thrust, until finally it arrived, crashing through both of you like a wave. You screamed in pleasure as Lando pumped one last time into you before coming hard himself, his entire body shaking with release.
Slowly he lowered you onto the floor, both of you still breathing heavily from the intense session that just took place. He took a step back to look at you, admiring every inch of your glistening body from the workout you just did.
"I guess I can tell my personal trainer that you're a better instructor than him."
1K notes · View notes
totalswag · 3 months
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pairs love - DREW STARKEY
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authors not since drew is in pairs at the fashion shows i thought why not write something cute and adorable. like can we talk about how freaking good he looked walking around ugh. the poll is officially over and the rafe series won! ima start working on the master list and have it up.
summary you come out to visit your boyfriend in pairs during fashion week.
warnings kissing in front of the Eiffel Tower
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Drew was invited to two fashion shows in Paris: menswear for Prada and Loewe menswear. He left three days ago, while you stayed at home to put the finishing touches on your flower garden.
You couldn't be more proud of your boyfriend with all the success he's gained over the past couple years. He truly deserves this. Getting the recognition he deserves.
Last night, you landed in Pairs, drained from hours on the plane and eager to shower and sleep on a bed. It felt good seeing Drew and being in his arms. Although it was three days without each other, you always miss his presence.
Drew had the day off, so he planned to take you out to dinner, walk around, shopping, and visit the Eiffel Tower. He advised you to get enough rest early so you have enough rest to explore the Pairs at night.
During dinner, Drew spoke about what the shows were like and meeting celebs he's seen in movies or other people for the first time. It was really cool hearing what he had to say.
You were quite excited to visit the Eiffel Tower. You've always wanted to see it in person someday. Your inner child was jumping up and down inside.
"That restaurant was so delicious; I can see why you enjoy it so much," you tell Drew, tucking your hands into your coat to keep them warm from the cold.
"I'm glad to hear that you liked it baby," He smiles, tilts his head to the side, and blushes.
You chuckle as you playfully nudge his arm. He pretends to fall on his side, with a dramatic expression on his face.
"You are such a dork," you laugh.
"Your favorite dork, dork," he responds in a playful tone, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you continue walking down the sidewalk.
Drew and you went inside a few stores that caught your eye; you might've bought a few things. Drew watched you in awe as you showed him different clothing throughout the store.
"What do you think about this one?" You inquired Drew, holding two clothes that piqued your interest.
Drew hurriedly glances aside from the apparel rack he was browsing. His brows furrow as he casts a stern stare with his pointer finger on his chin.
"I think both will look great on you, but I'd go with this one because it draws your eyes out," he says casually, sweeping his arm toward the shirt you first showed him.
"You are too sweet, you know that" you reply as you turn around, putting back the other clothing item.
He loves seeing you happy. He knew how much you've always wanted to visit Pairs and thought this was the best time to go.
"Thank you for the stuff, baby," you grin, gripping his hand and lifting the bag with your other hand.
When you went out of the last store, you heard people heading in your direction, fans. They walked forward with grins on their faces, carrying items for him to sign and their phones for photos.
When one fan spotted you were with him, she screamed your name out in delight, and the rest followed after. You put your free hand over your heart with a pout before beaming at the little fans.
We love you Drew
This is the best day of my life
I can't believe he's in front of me
He's so beautiful in person
Drew started taking pictures with the fans; giving them hugs, making videos for fans that couldn't make it, signed a few things, and had conversations.
Fans also came up to as well. They were all so sweet and caring. One fan came up to you with tears forming in her eyes, you opened your arms to welcome her.
You are so sweet, Y/N
You are so gorgeous
Can't believe you are here too
I love your relationship with Drew
When word spread that Drew was in a relationship, all of the fans went crazy, searching for who this mystery girl was. You were apprehensive about how the fans might react.
You eventually posted a TikTok video with your best friend, Madelyn Cline, and Drew happened to be in the background; people then connected the dots. In the end, they loved and admired you.
Being in a relationship with someone in the public spotlight offers advantages and disadvantages, but you wouldn't alter it for anything, especially if you love them.
"Don't cry now love," you tell her softly, "what's your name?" She tells you her name and goes on to explain how much she loves you and your content you post.
"That's so sweet of you, thank you."
You spent ten minutes with the girls until it was ready to go look at the Eiffel Tower.
The Eiffel Tower was everything you've dreamed of. Seeing it in person was one of the best feelings in the world. So many emotions were going through your body.
You got out your phone to capture some photos and videos to share later tomorrow. Drew snapped a photo of you with his digital camera, capturing the tower, and he couldn't help but smile.
He carefully put his arms around your waist, drawing you into his front, chin on top of your head, rocking you side to side slowly and silently while savoring the moment.
"This has been one of the greatest days of my entire life. Being here with you in your arms in Pairs. I just want to say thank your for bringing me out here and experiencing this."
You feel your body relax in his touch, allowing a sigh to escape your lips, your head to strike his chest, and giving him the opportunity to kiss you.
You two don't give a damn whether anyone witnesses you kissing at this point. Right now, just the two of you matter because you are in love. And you are in Pairs.
"I had to bring you out here with me, of course, sweetheart. You keep me warm, too, and I love holding you in my arms. However, when you consider it, this is our first trip to Europe as a couple” he says.
You move your body around so that your chests are against one another. In return, you up on your small toes and wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him all over his face.
I love you.
I love you more.
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1.8k / 24 / soap soulmate au, part 4
...
Price takes a seat opposite you. Ghost stands behind him, massive arms crossed. Price folds his hands together.
"Tea?" he asks.
You say nothing.
"Ghost, go get us some tea."
Ghost leaves. Price examines you, drumming his fingers against the table. He acts friendly. But he's not playing. You have no doubt he'll extract the information he needs by any means necessary. You need to make sure he doesn't figure out which of your buttons to press.
"You're Soap's girl," he says.
You say nothing. His stare presses in on you as heavily as the silence, pushing your back into your seat.
"Who is he to you?"
You shift, uncomfortable in your chair. "A stranger." You roll your shoulders as if trying to shrug off the implications. "An enemy, ostensibly."
Price leans closer. "You kiss your enemies often?"
Not until Johnny walked into your patrol path. 
"Left quite the impression on Soap. You made a bit of a mark on Ghost, too. Not that it’s hard." Price leans back, giving you a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "He’s got a soft spot for Soap, hm? So he doesn't want you hurt. Doesn't want Soap put out."
You remain silent, but it doesn't seem to bother him. He studies you, utterly calm. He's trying to read you. It's obvious he has some kind of game plan, and now he thinks you have one, too.
"Weren't quite planning to walk into someone like him, were you? Things happened, didn't they? Things you had to work through."
"No."
"Really. 'Cause with the way you're acting, I'd wager you had different plans for yourself. Now you're all twisted up in this. Plans got ruined because he came along. Maybe you've got your own plans, hm? Got a whole life back home. A career, clearly. Nice little house. Maybe you've got a boyfriend already."
"What do you want?" you grit out.
"Access, love," he says, like this whole interrogation is just a pleasant chat. That new base of yours, the one Graves commandeered. How do you like it?"
"Barely seen it."
"I imagine you're rather busy lately, then. Lot on your mind. Shepherd must have you working hard." You notice a muscle twitching in his jaw. He has an iron grip on his temper. "But you saw enough of it to get a good look around, hm? The layout, the security, the systems. Tell me about it."
"I don't know anything."
"Nothing?" He leans forward again. He doesn't seem to like that answer. "The security cameras. The guards. The patrols. The sensors." His voice is low. "You don't know anything about those?"
"Didn't ask."
"Hm." His shoulders lift in a slight shrug as the expression on his face hardens further. "You didn't ask." He repeats. "Didn't ask. Didn't ask..." Then he pauses, staring through you. He leans back again. "No, of course not. You follow orders. You do your job. Can't fault you for that." He speaks with a cool tone, but there's a tightness in the lines of his jaw as he says it. "And now you're here and your buddies are gone. Just you. The only target left." He lets the silence stretch out. "Do you think Graves'll come for you?"
"No."
"Hm. Why not?"
"I'm a nobody."
"Hmmmmm." His smile doesn't change, but the lines around his eyes shift as if he finds that amusing. "And you're perfectly content with that? With knowing that when you walk into that base every day, you'll just be another body for Graves to throw onto the heap?”
You hold his gaze. "Yes."
"You don't think you're worth more than that?"
You say nothing.
The smile is still there, but his eyes narrow. He's judging you. Judging your worth. You hold his gaze. He seems to recognize something in you--that you're telling the truth. You know what you are. You're a mercenary. You're expendable.
"You must have a low opinion of yourself." He sighs, crossing his arms and settling a little further into his chair. "You've accepted you're not walking out of this base, then."
You nod.
Price examines you, eyes narrow and intense. Peeling you apart. You're certainly not an idiot. Smart enough to know you're expendable; loyal enough to take orders, keep your mouth shut, and follow through without asking questions. Not the type of soldier he prefers, but in the right hands, you'd be lethal.
Tough to crack, too. He rubs his chin. Hard to threaten someone who doesn't have anything to lose.
Two sharp knocks on the door herald Ghost, who slips back inside and closes the door. He's not carrying tea.
"Might want to pick up the pace," Ghost says. "Soap's back."
You stiffen, as much as you try not to show it.
Price's gaze flicks over to you, noting the tensing of your shoulders. "He knows?"
"Affirmative, sir. Someone outside must've seen her mark and tipped him off."
At that moment, there's a banging on the door. Johnny's voice echoes from the other side. "LT!"
Hearing it is a punch to the gut.
Soap keeps knocking. "Ghost, get yer lyin' arse out here!"
Price looks at Ghost and nods toward the door. "Go on, then, handle it."
Ghost curses under his breath and slips outside.
"Hell's fuckin' bells, LT, what's goin' on?"
Ghost's reply is too low and muffled to catch.
"Busy with what?" Soap snaps. "I know she's here. I need to see her."
Ghost's reply this time sounds harsher.
"Like hell I'm not. That's my goddamned soulmate, aye? My girl. I've got a right to see her. You'll not keep me from the one person in the whole bloody world that's mine."
"Captain's interrogating her." Ghost's tone is low and loud now, a warning. "You don't get special privileges with her."
Soap lets loose a string of colorful curses. You can make out roughly half of them through his accent. "What does Price think she's got that's so bloody important I don't get to know about it?"
"She's a Shadow, Johnny. Chrissake."
"Aye, an' she's in that room goin' it alone. She needs me."
Your heart twists in your chest, and it forces out a breath you didn't know you were holding. It's eating at your resolve. Just hearing him speak about you is making you want things you shouldn't. He sounds like he wants to protect you. Like you're worth something to him. You try to shake it out of your head. You're a prisoner here. This isn't a love story. He doesn’t love you. He doesn't know you.
Then you look up, and your blood goes cold. Price is staring at you, and he's smirking.
His eyes move over you, dissecting you piece by piece, and you feel your expression revealing too much. He saw your mask slip. He saw what you're concealing.
"I'll be damned." His smirk grows. "I thought Shadows were all cold-blooded bastards."
Your mouth twitches like it wants to bare teeth. "Go to hell."
"Ghost," he calls mildly at the closed door, "get in here. And bring Soap, would you?"
No no no no. Panic washes over you. You pull at your cuffs, feeling yourself lapse into a freeze response. Not Johnny. You can't face him. You try desperately to get a grip on your body's reaction, to remember your training.
You turn your head away from the door and fix your eyes on the opposite corner of the room. Among the many rifles and launchers racked on the walls, you find a pistol and you concentrate on it as hard as you can. You study the polish smudged near the mouth of the barrel. The scarred grip.
Behind you, the door opens.
Soap is across the room in moments. He kneels next to you, his hands falling to your arm, to your shoulder, your neck. His thumb brushes across one of the many cuts on your cheek.
You feel outside of yourself. Soap seems too fixated on your state of being to notice.
"Jesus fuckin' Christ. What did you rat bastards do to my girl?" he growls.
"She did this to herself," Ghost says. He puts his hand on Soap's shoulder. "And we need her restrained while we question her--"
"Back off," Soap warns, brushing his hand away. "Am not dealin' with you right now."
Price cuts in, voice firm. "Soap, cool off. Now."
Soap's temper flashes hot. His jaw clenches. His muscles tense. But he takes a deep, steadying breath. "Aye, Captain," Soap says. He straightens up, his hands falling away from your face. But it's clear his blood is still simmering. "Permission to remove her cuffs."
"Negative," Price says. Soap starts to say something, but Price cuts him off. "No. She's unpredictable. You know that as well as we do. We can't afford to trust her until we understand what Graves' orders are."
Soap curls and uncurls his fists, evidence of the sheer will he's exerting to keep his feet planted where they are. "And what do you expect me to do? Just leave her here? Not say a word to her?"
That smirk curls Price's lips again. "Quite the opposite. I'd like you to do the talking for us."
Price stands and gestures to Ghost again, and Ghost guides Soap by the shoulder over to him. Soap resists on principle for a moment before his mind catches up and he walks stiffly to the other side of the table.
“She has information we need," Price says. "Alejandro, remember? Once that's squared away, we'll need no hostage. You understand me?"
There's a beat of silence.
"You want me to interrogate her," Soap says.
"I want access," Price replies.
"And once I have the information?"
"Then she’s all yours. You can do whatever you like. Let her go. Hell, drive her to the airport if you want. But until then" --Price's hand lands on Soap's shoulder and pushes him down into the interrogator's seat across from you-- "she doesn't leave this room. You understand?"
You feel Soap's eyes on you.
"Fine. I'll do it. But it's gotta be me and her. No one else. You let me do my job the way I know it needs to be done."
"Hm." Price glances at you. You're still concentrating on the pistol on the far wall. "That's just fine. Ghost, let's give 'em some time alone."
Ghost follows Price out of the room, closing and locking the door behind them.
"Sir?" Ghost's voice is low and uncertain.
"Trust me, Soap is the leverage we needed. He'll do just fine.”
Ghost is quiet for a moment. "If he keeps his head on straight."
Price hums in agreement, his smile genuine now. "If he keeps his head on straight."
...
part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / [part 4] / part 5
more Soap / masterlist tag
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bonny-kookoo · 7 months
Text
Jungkook
𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲 🍒
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Sometimes love doesn't make sense.
Tags/Warnings: Tattoo artist/Piercer Jungkook, Pastel!Reader, opposites attract, Strangers to lovers, Fluff, suggestive flirting, adult themes but no smut, consensual hand holding
Length: ~4k
There is no taglist for this fic.
Masterlist
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"Uhm-" you wonder, stepping inside the store to be greeted by the guy you know as Jimin.
"Hi, my friend has an appointment?" you say, and the artist stands up and walks closer. Your friend stays close to you, buzzing with the excitement of getting her first tattoo ever- too shy to say anything.
When it comes to that, you're a little ahead of her. As long as the person isn't intimidating, you're fine talking to them, asking for help or anything alike.
"Yeah, it was the dragon on her back, right?" and your friend nods. "I've got it all prepared already. Wanna come downstairs with me, I'll explain the rest of it there?" Jimin kindly says, taking her coat and leading her downstairs where you assume everyone works. "Oh, you can just wait in the back there, or stroll around town. It'll take a while." he says, and you nod, a bit unsure now after being left alone.
"Hm?" a voice chimes up, before he speaks again. "Oh, Thought I heard something." the guy comes into view, and suddenly you can't talk.
This is what you can't talk to.
Intimidating? Heavy boots and black clothes, silver chains and piercings and a fully inked sleeve including his hand present themselves to you, muscles free since he's only wearing a black sleeveless top that should be illegal for him to wear. His smile is the friendliest you've ever seen, reaching his eyes and his slightly wild hair just makes him look even better, sides buzzed down to mere millimeters left- you want to disappear from the earth and his memory forever.
Fuck. He's looking like every goth-girl's wet dream while you're dressed in a pastel colored dress and thick knee high socks to keep your feet warm in this cold weather. Great.
"You can sit here in the back with me, otherwise you'll catch a cold from all the cold air blowing in every time the door opens." he recommends, pointing to a couch in a corner that you assume is where they all spend their breaks. Awesome, he's a gentleman as well it seems, making it all even worse for you. "You want something to drink? I've got tea or coffee." he wonders, and you meekly press out a 'tea, please.', making him chuckle.
He probably thinks you're nothing more than a child, with the way you look so out of place.
You envy your friend in that department. She's got piercings, she knows cool friends, she has exciting stories to tell. Meanwhile you sit at home and knit sweaters and blankets, help out at the local animal shelter because you get to pet the cats and dogs all day, or work at the library where you aid tourists find the town's guide.
"Your friend was the tall girl, right?" he asks, coming in with two cups, one of which he sets down on front of you. "I'm Jungkook by the way." he introduces himself, smiling before he leans back in his seat. Of course he's interested in her, you think. She's exactly his type, though he looks quite a few years older than her.
Well- the least you can do is help her find a date.
"Ah, yeah, she's my friend. Best friend." you say, pulling the cup of tea closer. "Thank you, for the tea." you say politely, and he grins in front of you.
"No problem." he waves off.
"She's uh.. She works at a car-uh.. She does those paint jobs. Like, those complicated one's that look realistic and all that." you try and explain. "I.. Forgot what it's called though. But uhm.. You can ask her later maybe?" you say, and he shrugs, setting down his cup before he smirks impishly, tongue playing with his lip ring in a manner that you can only describe as illegal.
"I probably could do that-" he starts, before he tilts his head a little to the side, body leaning forward. "-but I'd rather get to know you a little more." he wonders, and you almost choke on your tea- but you're composing yourself. "Maybe I could start by asking if you've got a boyfriend?"
Well, so much for composing yourself.
Your wide eyes look at him scandalized, and he giggles at the sight of it. "I- uh, no, I mean no I don't have one, to be honest-" you laugh a bit nervously. "-guys don't.. I- most guys don't really look my way, you know. So I thought, you know, considering-" you motion up and down towards him, "-you'd be more interested in my friend." you ramble, and he just shakes his head, smiling.
"I mean, she seems nice- but, I don't know either." he shrugs. "Something about you- it's hard to explain."
You shift a little on the spot now, unsure what to do in a situation like this. Typically, you shut down guys quickly, scared of what's to come. But you also don't want to keep doing exactly that- not when you've got the chance of something right in front of you like that. For the first time, someone's actively interested in you. Someone who seems nice, that is.
"I don't want to make you uncomfortable, by the way." Jungkook suddenly rips out of your thoughts. He leans back again, giving you space, and it makes you feel a little deflated. Did you blow it already? Oh god you screwed it over, didn't you?
"No, you're not, don't worry." you say, looking down. "I just.. I'm not used to this. I'm usually always the wingman instead- or.. Wing-woman?" you think, and he laughs.
"Hard to believe, but I'll take your word for it." he says, still friendly. "So, I'm wondering- any tattoos? Piercings?" he wonders, and you nod- instantly making his eyes sparkle in interest. "Oh- can I ask what it is, or do you want to let me find out later?" he says, and you instantly turn red, making him laugh. "Sorry, sorry- I'll stop, promise." he waves off. "..for now."
You laugh at his antics, unable to keep a straight face by now. "You seem like you know your way around with girls." you say without thinking, before you hurriedly correct yourself. "I-I mean I don't mean that your like, a fuckboy or something or- maybe you are that's fine too! I don't judge but- oh god.." you put your head in your hand. "You know what? I'll just wait here for her, I'm so sorry." you mumble more or less.
But much to your surprise, he simply laughs, head thrown back for a second before he grins at you, front teeth slightly protruding, giving him a bunny smile.
"You're so cute, I swear." he says, shaking his head. "I- is it okay if I ask for your number?" he wonders, and you look at him for a good moment, squinting your eyes as if you test to see if he's serious.
"I.. Sure..?" you say, pulling out your phone with all the different charms attached. He grins and shakes his head amused, though clearly excited as you type in your number into his phone before calling yourself to make sure it's correct.
"So!" he grins. "Since your friend is gonna still be out of order for a good four hours downstairs," Jungkook stands up to hold out his hand. "You up for some boba for our first date?" he asks, looking down at you even though you're standing as well by now.
And you nod, walking next to him through the slight October fog outside in town, his hand warming up yours.
You don't even realize how.. easy it feels, right away. His hand holding yours is not demanding, giving you the option to let go at any point, but you don't mind holding it. It's warm, comfortable, and it also makes you wonder if that's something he enjoys. Did he date a lot already? He certainly looks like he got the choice, girls probably falling for him fairly easily.
Well.. you're already trusting him too. How ironic.
"Just tell me which one you want, I'll go order." he says later, holding out a hand in case you lose balance as you clean off the rain from your boots as to not bring it all into the small store. "I'll pay too by the way, no but's!" he grins, while you look up at him with a pleading look.
"No, I'll give you the money back for mine." you say.
"But then it's not a date!" he argues back, a whine in his voice as if to mock the way you just spoke to him. "then it's just- two people getting a drink at the same time."
"what's so bad about that?" you laugh, crossing your arms without thinking- an action he playfully copies, pushing out his chest, fabric of his jacket stretching over his biceps.
"That it's not a date!" he says, before laughing as he relaxes, talking more quietly now with a lower, more serious tone. "Alright, in all seriousness though, I'd still like to pay even if there's no date." he tells you.
"I- no, a date is fine, it can be a date.." you say. "I just don't want to.. Come off as a leech for taking your money if you end up not liking me-" you ramble, and he smiles warmly, holding your shoulders before his warm palms touch your cheeks for a second.
"You're overthinking too much." he giggles, before letting go of you. "right now, I like you very much. And even if we don't end up working out, I'm not that kind of guy to go around and talk shit about people." he shrugs.
You sigh at that, before pointing towards an item on the menu. "..can you- I don't like that much ice in mine.?" you say, and he nods, before walking towards the worker to order.
He's oddly okay with you, you've noticed.
Normally, people and especially guys get frustrated easily due to the fact that you've got trouble deciding things, or that you don't like ordering, or that you quickly feel bad because your brain thinks the worst about every single word that's said to you. But he seems nice enough, doesn't come off as annoyed or anything. Despite his way of talking and his outer appearance, Jungkook feels nice to have around.
You wonder how a guy like him can be single.
Or maybe he isnt? Maybe he's into the BDSM scene, a swinger, or in an open relationship, and he just want to offer you a threesome? He looks like he might be into that stuff, like a dominant guy that enjoys taking control over his partner in the bedroom. Does he tie people up? You've seen stuff like that before, and it's not something you'd be opposed to if he'd be the one to-
Wow, alright, exit was three miles ago.
"Everything alright?" he chuckles, snapping you out of your thoughts, amusing him as he notices the way you turn red. "Been staring at my ass? Can't blame you, honestly." he jokes, making you hit his shoulder playfully before you take your plastic cup from him. "Hey, this might sound super shady and you don't have to say yes-" he starts, stepping out the small store with you where it had started to snow again. "-but I've got my apartment a few minutes from here, and it's freezing cold, so-" he takes your hand and looks down at you. "-you wanna go to my place?"
You're nervous now, more than ever. Thoughts are entertaining, they're safe and most of all yours and not real, but the prospect of potentially going into an apartment you don't know, with a guy you don't know, is scary. What if he's actually a serial killer, or really into BDSM and you'll get involved in some shady fifty shades stuff-
"-you really don't have to say yes. We can just go back to the Tattoo shop and talk there, I don't mind." he reassures, and you still don't answer. "What's worrying you? Maybe I can help."
"I-" you start, unsure, and fingers already hurting from the cold cup as you both walk outside the small store, walking side by side. You enjoy this a bit more- without holding his hand, you feel safer having a discussion like that. "-you know, guys only take girls to their place for.. Stuff, and I'm not like that, but I also kind of want to be but at the same time it's scary-"
"Hey, no, I'm not out for blood if you mean that." he chuckles, holding out his arm to make sure you wait until a car has passed the road you're both trying to cross. "Like, I'm not gonna lie and say I've never had one-night-stands or quickies or whatever, but right now I'm interested in you, first and foremost." he explains, his rather blunt words causing an elderly lady to turn her head scandalized as she walks past. "Also, I'm into begging. I'll only fuck you if you ask nicely." he smirks down at you next to him, before laughing out loud at your wide eyes and red ears.
"I-" you struggle to form words. But you're also horribly cold. "Alright then. I mean not the fucking part, at least not right now maybe sometime in the fut- where was your apartment again?" you stutter, and he grins so hard his eyes almost close.
"You're so fucking cute, my god." he shakes his head, before taking your hand again. "It's right down this road." he simply tells you, before you both find yourself in front of an apartment building where he takes you upstairs to his door. "Ah, I didn't clean up, by the way. It's a bit chaotic." he sheepishly offers, before the door opens.
It's warm, inviting. Doesn't smell bad, and it's not as chaotic as he told you it would be, Jungkook walking inside before you walk around, inspecting the apartment.
"I've put your boots in my shower, in case you're wondering where they are." he says after emerging from his bathroom, opening a window a little to air out the apartment. "make yourself at home, don't be so stiff." he chuckles, smiling when you visibly relax.
He sits close to you on the couch, but keeps a respectful distance between the two of you. He watches as you inspect a hole in a blanket he's got on the couch, shrugging. "My friend has a dog. Small little shit tore a hole in there, but it's still good so I keep the blanket."
"It's an easy fix." you say. "If you take those two parts of the yarn and then those, you can just tie them together so it doesn't rip open any further." you explain, and he tilts his head a little.
"Oh? Do you knit?" he wonders, and you nod.
"I.. My hobbies are kind of lame. I knit, and I help at the shelter a little away from the town. Other than that, I just.. Kind of exist in my apartment." you tell him. "I work at a library near the main train station. So, I'm not really interesting." you say, while he shakes his head.
"Don't say that. I think that's all pretty cool." he reassures. "Sounds like you've made a cozy life for yourself. That's pretty impressive considering today's times." he says. "I've always been.. Unsatisfied. With almost everything." he shrugs, leaning back, socked feet resting on the edge of his couch you're both sitting on.
"How so?" you wonder, taking a sip from your drink, before putting it back onto the small table.
"I don't know." he explains vaguely. "I guess I always had way too big dreams and aspirations. And now that I'm at that age I back then wanted to be, I feel like I wasted all my time with nothing but short-lived successes and people who only wanted me for the moment."
"Kind of.. Reminds me of myself." you giggle. "I.. When I was young, even a teenager, I always said I won't have kids. But these days, I kind of think, in the future I want them. Not right now, but one day. I wanna have a family and stuff, live in a house and have a dog and a cat and a husband and all that." you giggle. "like I said, not right now- but in the future."
"Hmhm. I never wanted to marry either. Thought that's just bullshit." he says. "But now, after seeing some of my friends have that, I'm envious. I want that too. A partner for life, I mean. A boring life." he says.
You hum a reply, nodding to yourself, a bit of quietness falling over the both of you, before he moves again, sitting down more comfortably turned towards you.
"I.. Would really like to get to know you. Seriously, I mean." he starts explaining. "Like I said, I.. Don't know what it is exactly, but you're.. Fuck you make me all weird." he laughs. "I wanna stay in contact with you, if you'd like. We could watch a movie? Only Netflix, no deep-throating during commercial breaks, promise!" he jokes, before adding, "..except if you're up for it." he giggles when you hide your face for a good second, laughing.
"I don't even know how to do that!" you laugh, making him raise his eyebrows while playing with his lip ring.
"Oh I can teach you, don't worry about that." he teases.
"I'm sure you can.." you mumble more or less, sipping on your drink. But your sentence seems to make him curious, eyes gaining a challenging glimmer as he leans forward.
"No no no, let's rewind a bit there." he says. "Just so I know where I'm at. You a virgin?" he wonders, and you pull your legs closer to yourself.
"..no." you shrug. "But.. I highly doubt I'm as adventurous as you." you tell him, making Jungkook smirk a little, as if challenged.
"Are you? What do you think I'm into then?" he wonders. "I've got a feeling you've made up your mind about me more than I thought."
"I mean, I don't know?" you say. "You.. It's not that hard to have more experience than me. I only had sex like.. Twice, and it's honestly not really for me." you shrug. "it's weird to.. Ugh I don't know."
"No, you do know, you just don't want to say it out loud." he clears up for you, making you nod. "Did you ever have an orgasm?"
"Jungkook!" you bark out scandalized, making him raise his hands in playful defense.
"What? You gotta ask these days, men are shit in bed most of the time, I have to admit that!" he laughs, shamelessly talking about this as if it's nothing but the weather outside. "So? Did you?" he wonders, and you shrug. "So you didn't?"
"I- don't know!" you say, a little glad you can finally talk to someone about it, hesitation finally breaking as you get the chance to make your frustration some room. "It's different when I do it myself. Like, then I'm pretty sure I have one? But when I had sex it was different, like I was almost kind of there but also not.." you lean your head on the backrest of his couch.
"Sounds like you didn't then." he tells you. "See, there's women out there who can't cum from penetration at all. The key ingredient is being fucking attentive." he explains. "I got more than just my dick, is what I'm trying to tell." he says, wiggling his fingers in front of his face, several rings adoring some of them- and you laugh.
"You sound like you're trying to get me to have sex with you right now." you joke, but he just shrugs his shoulders, tongue poking against his cheek for a moment.
"I'd fuck you any day you'd let me." he simply answers, eyes on yours. "After all, I gotta check out those tattoos you said you have." he flirts, and you move around a little, air between you both getting thicker. At this point, you can't deny the attraction. And with the way he talks and treats you, you're sure you'd let him prove his point as well. Right now. No regrets.
He notices the way your eyes fall to his lips, getting attached at the silver piercings there for a good moment, before you find his warm eyes again. And even though he really did not intent to be so forward so fast, he still scoots closer, tests the waters, places his arms on either side of you before the tip of his nose almost touches yours.
"Been wondering for a while now.." he starts, licking his lips before he looks down to yours, face tilting a bit as he looks at you. "..what flavor that lipgloss might be." he jokes, before he can't help himself.
You've not been kissed often in your life, not even in relationships. But you know for a fact that there's no experience comparable to the way he kisses you- not only his lips, but also his hands craving you it seems, making you feel completely under his spell. He's not just kissing you with his lips. He's using his hands, his tongue, knows clearly how to create a moment.
Your phone rings.
His rings soon after.
He laughs- and so do you.
It's a little awkward for a second, before he sends a message informing his coworker that you're on your way back, his grin still evident, never vanishing it seems. "so..?" you wonder having stood up to go grab your coat.
"So?" he parrots back, standing up as well to walk closer to you.
"What flavor is it?" you shyly try and flirt, and he laughs, leaning down to kiss you again, just a peck, and another, and just one last one before he parts with laughter.
"I'd say cherry-" he grins, watching you tie your boots in his hallway before he cages you in at his front door again the second you stand back up, unable to resist you now that you gave him the chance to taste you.
"But let me make sure I got it right."
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y2kuromi · 11 days
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⭑ : 呪術廻戦 ❛ [𝟬𝟰:𝟮𝟴 𝗔.𝗠.] : satoru gojo x fem! reader
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˖ ִֶָ𐀔 contents: fluff, fluff, fluff! established relationship. second person pov. js 'toru being soft, i'm so normal abt him i swear >.<
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a deep-set frown tugs at the corners of satoru's lips when he wakes up to find you missing from your spot next to him. traces of moonlight stream in through the blinds, highlighting the outline of your crumpled silhouette on the cold sheets.
waking up alone has become too often an occurrence for his liking. his brows furrow as his fingers ghost over the imprint on the pillow where you should be — beside him — feeling a pang of something akin to loneliness in his chest.
he sighs, running a hand through his hair. attempting to wake himself up a bit more. with a groan, he gets out of bed. the room seems colder somehow without you by his side. the cool wood floors grate against his bare feet as he pads down the hallway.
all the lights are turned off, except the ones in the kitchen. he finds you on your tiptoes, wobbling against the counter as you reach for your favourite mug. he's careful not to frighten you as his bare chest presses against your back and he reaches from behind to grab it.
he places it on the counter, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. "morning," he mumbles into your skin, nuzzling the crook of your neck.
"morning 'toru" you smiled, carding your fingers through the ivory strands tickling your chin. "what are you doing up?"
"i could ask you the same thing" satoru replied, punctuating his sentence by pressing soft kisses along the curve of your neck.
"i figured i'd make myself some coffee since i couldn't go back to sleep" you shifted around in his embrace so he could see your face better.
"is something wrong sweets?" he asks, cupping your cheeks in his hands. concern shone in his eyes, bright enough to rival the stars themselves.
"no" you shook your head, savouring the feeling of satoru’s thumb stroking circles into your cheekbones "'m just not tired"
"i'll stay up with you then" satoru hummed thoughtfully
"you shouldn't" you frowned, brushing his hair out of his infinitely blue eyes. his pupils are glazed with sleep, yet still held such tenderness and warmth "you'll be too tired for your meeting"
"'m not going for it anyways, i'd rather keep you company" he wants nothing more than to pull you into a kiss, but that could wait until you'd made your coffee. he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead before releasing you from his grasp.
you sigh — a quiet exhale flowing from your parted lips as you went to pour your coffee. satoru follows your movements with his gaze. the smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the kitchen as you stirred almond milk and cubes of sugar into the steaming mug.
"want some?" you asked, you cupped your coffee in your hands. the warmth seeped through your fingers. "or i could make you some hot chocolate"
his infinitely blue eyes drank you in as you sipped on your coffe. in spite of your messy hair and the dark circles beneath your lashes, he found himself lost in the pure essence of your beauty. tired eyes transfixed by his shirt slipping off your shoulder and the sleeves hanging loosely on your elbows. he loved looking at you. it was without a doubt his favourite thing in the world.
"'toru?" the sweet sound of your voice eased him out of his trance. he shook his head as he moved to lean next to you. your brows are slightly furrowed and he places a kiss between them. a futile attempt to smooth the scrunched skin.
"'s nothing" he says, voice a mere whisper over the sound of the wall clock ticking and the crickets chirping outside. the lingering silence isn't uncomfortable, not when it's filled with you.
the way you tilt your head to look at him as he presses a lazy kiss to the corner of your mouth. satoru thinks he could stay like this forever. he's close enough to feel the warmth radiating off your body.
satoru wondered if you knew how much of a goner he was, if you realised how much you truly meant to him. you sipped on your coffee, oblivious to the way he watched every little movement you made. you were everything. his everything.
he'd never sleep again if it meant having your fingers carding through his hair. he'd never sleep again if it meant his hands could linger over your warm skin, imbued with the scent of coffee and your perfume, for eternity. he'd never sleep again if it meant having you with him.
"'m just in love with you" he admits, whispering the words as if they would break the earth's atmosphere. you smile, and it's brighter than any star satoru has ever gazed upon. he gently takes your mug from your grasp so he can wrap both arms around you without your coffee getting in the way.
"i know" you say softly, "i'm kinda in love with you too…"
"really?" he raises an eyebrow, grinning. satoru's gaze drops to your lips and his heart flutters in a way that's become familiar to him— and only him —after years of knowing and loving you.
"yes really" you stood on the utmost tips of your toes and leaned forward to press your lips to his. slow, gentle. it tastes exactly how he imagined it would— like sugary coffee and wisps of heaven; like home
it felt as if only the two of you were awake in the vast expanse of the universe. moonlight kissed the perfect canvas of your skin as your fingers trailed over the strong curves of his bare forearms.
the taste of coffee lingers on his lips as you pull away. satoru thinks that nothing compares to you. no one could hold a candle — no one could burn as bright.
he didn't know what his life would've been if he hadn't met you. you were his world, his soul. he wouldn't give you up for anything. not even his own freedom, because he knew without a shadow of doubt that you were it. he was never truly free until he met you
he knew he should drag you back to the comfort of your bed, to indulge in the luxury of holding you in his arms and lulling you back to sleep before the sun rises. but he selfishly wished to bask in your presence for a little while longer. to stay like this for eternity because he never knew when he'd lose the privilege of being with you.
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© Y2KUROMI 2024. please do not plagiarise, repost, or translate any of my works on here or any other websites.
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shojizbae · 9 days
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Yeehaw!
Spencer Reid x reader
Warnings: This is spicy! Use of alcohol, behind drunk/drunk sex, Oral fem! receiving, cowgirl position
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Everyone could tell with just one look at you that you were Southern. That being said, anytime there was a case in the South, everyone knew to take a step back and let you lead. This time, there was a string of murders in Aiken, South Carolina, and the team knew that you were all over it.
"Weren't you from a Carolina?" Derek chuckles as we board the jet.
"Yeah, I spent most of my time on Camp Lejeune with my daddy, then I went south for college in Charleston."
"So that means Hotch has been demoted for this." Emily snickers
"No, I just know the South, and I'll get a little gun-happy when I'm back home. It wouldn't be no different had we gone to Chicago, Derek."
"Wow, mama's go home heat today." We settle on the jet, and Hotch and Rossi debrief us. I take a nap as we head south, and unfortunately, the power of the state takes me over. I march up to the sheriff and flash my credentials.
"So, how's it happen?" The sheriff speaks in an accent so thick it makes grits look like juice. I glance at the team, and they seem to sigh in relief when they realize I can understand him. Tirelessly, we worked the case for 73 hours. We met at a fresh crime scene every morning. The unsub seemed to be in a frenzy. He was dangerous and mixed with a high concentration of amphetamine addiction in this area. It was likely he had no clue he was killing.
But, due to the trace amounts of meth, we knew that he was unstable and would trip up eventually. We got some sleep after the fourth body, and there was a trip up in the morning. A fifth, but he had left some of his powdered sugar at the crime scene.
I put a glove on and lifted the little baggie, showing it off to Reid.
"Hey, Spencer, check this out."
"Hey, I've been clean for years," He mopes
"Aw, I'm sorry, sugar," A detective approaches me with an evidence bag. "Here, swab it and run this through CODIS." Spencer and I kept sweeping the crime scene for any molecule of evidence. Nothing all that exciting. The killer left the knife in her this time. Indicative of the fact that they were out of control. I squat next to the body and ghost my fingers over the entrance wound.
"Hey Spencer," He perks up like a gopher, "If you were going to kill someone and you were going to stab them to death, how'd you do it?"
"Are you sure that's an appropriate question?"
"I'm just curious."
"I'd probably use something with a curved blade. It would do the most damage and be the hardest to remove." His eyes go kind of dead, as he explains. An awkward air hangs between the two of us as we survey the wound.
"Damn, Spence, that's messed up."
"You asked." He sasses
Not later that evening, a woman called to suspect a strange man was in her house. We move in immediately and find a man pacing in circles in the bathroom. He's violent and angry, and his nose is bleeding. He tried to swing a knife at Morgan, but I grabbed him by the wrist and slammed his head into the wall. I use my hips to push him forward and cuff him while Emily helps the woman safely out of her house.
I march him to the car while he screams that I'm a bastard whore. Finally, I shoved him into the police car and muttered a good riddance. I even patted my hands like a baker getting flour off.
"I need a drink." I put my hands on my hips
"I could use something to cool off, too. This southern heat can be beat." Derek wipes his brow
"Hotch you think we have the leeway to spend the night here?" Emily asks
"That's all up to JJ, anything pressing enough that we need to get back to Quantico?"
"Well, nothing too scary that we couldn't cut loose after working for six days straight." She smiles at the team
Hours later, we showered, ate a full meal at a steakhouse, and put on the nicest clothes in our go-bags. The team was shocked to discover I had a cowboy hat in my bag. We moseyed our way to the bar, a small dive bar with a pool table. A mechanical bull is in the center of the room, and my eyes light up at the memories. Rossie buys us a pitcher of beer, and we all unwind from the stressful week.
As we knock 'em back slowly and let college stories fly, the team starts to forget what we had seen. Rossi tells us some funny stories about going to college during the summer of love, and Reid accidentally brags about going to Cal Tech.
"Well, what about you? Didn't you go to school nearby?" Emily says as she refills her glass.
"Uh yeah, in Charleston, South Carolina." I clarify
"So you must have spent most of your nights like this." Derek motions around the bar, playing honky-tonk music. Pool balls clack around us, and there's a thin layer of dirt around the edge of the bar.
"Well, most nights I spent in my dorm or the library. Every other Saturday, my roommate and neighbors would go to a dive named Fat Daddy's. We would make bets with the alcoholic dads about being able to ride the bull, and if we stayed on longer than they said so, they'd buy us all a drink. I didn't pay for my own liquor for three semesters." The team stood in shock. Hotch's jaw was agape and Rossi just nodded his chin in acknowledgement.
"Well, now, baby girl, I have to see you in action." Derek almost commands
"No, I ain't dressed right. And ain't nobody betted me."
"I bet you won't last seven seconds on the mechanical bull," Spencer interjects "If you do, I'll buy you that coconut margarita that you've been eyeing."
"Alrght, there's my bet." I march up to the bartender "I'm'onna ride that bull." I point at it and he looks me hat to boot.
"Alright," The bartender seems disinterested. He hits a button, and lights around the bull flash like a carnival. I draw the attention of the whole bar as a pre-recorded announcer calls me a brave challenger.
Big men with fat beer bellies gather around, and I readjust my top. If I play my cards right, I might get more than a coconut margarita out of this. I'm not wearing anything too special—just one of my combat scoop-neck tees and low-rise daisy dukes. The bartender offers his hand, and I use it to mount the big plastic bull.
"You ready, little girl?" He asks
"Yes sir." I grip onto the handle at the 'bull's nape and a bell rings. Slowly the bull starts lurching forward and back while exciting music bounces around the bar.
one Mississippi
The bull speeds up
'ride it, cowgirl!" Derek yells from the edge of the bull enclosure
two Mississippi
It starts going sideways
three Mississippi
I fake with my appearance that I'm struggling and readjust my grip
four Mississippi
I use my hips to grind with the rhythm of the bull as men whoop and cheer
five Mississippi, six Mississippi
My heart starts to thump against my ribs
Seven Mississippi, I win.
The team cheers for me. I keep going, getting bold enough to grind more dramatically. I hear more whoops and hollers as I lift my arms and squee. Someone yells, and another man whistles. I hold onto my hat as the bull speeds up, and I feel my shirt lift.
'Yeehaw!' I hear, and the bar just erupts. I feel so full of life, and I jump up on the bull, riding it like a surfboard. I drop down and sit backward on the bull. I twist around and ride the bull until the bartender slows it down.
"You done broke our record. 39 seconds on the highest speed." The bar screams in glee, and the team closes in on me, handing out high fives. Reid hangs behind the group, and I see him ask Derek a question
"Did you know that (Y/n) has a stomach tattoo?"
"Wow (Y/n), that was incredible." Emily looks starstruck
"I told you I didn't pay for a drink for 18 months." I give JJ a hug, and Reid emerges from the crowd
"I guess I owe you a drink." He smiles, and I fidget with the hem of my shirt
"One coconut margarita, please, sir." He leads me to the bar, where the bartender makes one for me. I hold the glass up to his face, and Reid takes the first sip.
"No, that's fine," He pushes the glass from his cheek
"C'mon, you paid for it."
"Listen, you know that coercion isn't a great thing to do. Most serial killers are more coercive than a skeezy lawyer."
"Aw, you're using my metaphors." I coo and step closer to his chest
"When did you become so flirty?" he braces me on the hip
"All that shaking around must have got the beer movin' in me." I giggle and sip on my glass. "I saw you askin' Derek 'bout my tattoo. y' wanna see it?" I start to roll up my shirt
"No, no, that's fine," He holds my wrist to stop me. "Why don't we get you some water."
"No, this is yummy." I smile and down the cup. He grimaces at the action and tries to walk me over to our table
"Hey, Spencer, you wanna know why I'm so good at riding that thing?" I halt to play with the button of his shirt, and he stops, too.
"Uh sure," He swallows
"Ever the curious doctor," I slur. I'm good with the bull because I love riding," I whisper drunkenly in his ear. He swallows hard and tries to shimmy us back to our table. His hands shake as he grips my tricep.
"Why're you so nervous?" I ask the side of his jaw. My voice swings up an octave, but I snort as I survey the team.
"The liquor got to her quick. I'm gonna get her back to the hotel."
"Oooh, why don't you take me someplace fancy," I tease
"Well, make sure you use protection." Derek snorts as he lifts a brown bottle to his lips
"Aw, you ain't gotta worry. I've got an IUD." Spencer soothes my sentence with a pat on my shoulder, and I slide a hand down his back
"That won't be a problem. I'm just going to ensure she has water, Advil, and comfortable clothes." He jumps away as I make an attempt to grab his butt.
"You sure you don't want either of us to take her?" JJ offers and points between Emily and herself. I rest my head on his chest. I can feel his heart pounding against my temple.
"You gonna take good care of me, Doctor?" I smile up at his concerned face
"I'm not that kind of doctor." He scolds. He helps seatbelt me into one of two FBI SUVs. Slowly and carefully, he drives me to the highway motel we were placed in, and he marches me into my room.
"Alright, are you sober enough to shower?" He sits me on the bed, and the mattress shrieks beneath me
"Yeah, so long as you help me get my shirt off."
"No, I won't be doing that," He finds a glass and fills it with water. He digs in my go-bag and finds the bottle of Advil. He drops two in his hand and gives them to me as well as the cup. "Drink this," he tucks some hair behind his ears.
"My feet hurt," I whine and put the pills in my mouth.
"Well, you're wearing those ridiculous boots," He stressfully tucks some hair behind his ears
"They ain't ridiculous." Stick out a foot and twist it to see the whole design, "Maybe a little flashy." I tuck my foot in and look up at him. "Will you calm down if you held me out of these sugar?"
"Yeah, sure." He kneels down and tugs each of my boots off, and lines them up with the rest of my shoes.
"Aww, you're so caring. C'mere sugar." Reluctantly, he finds me on the mattress, and I pat it next to me. He's hesitant, but he sits, and I lean against him. "Hey, Spencer?"
"Yes, (Y/n)?"
"You wanna ask about my tattoo?"
"No,"
"Really, because you keep glancing down at my stomach. I may be a drunk one, but I am a profiler. What about it? Gets you going so much?"
"What?" He scoffs in shock "It doesn't 'get me going'." I hold onto his arm
"Really? Because I'm pushin' my tits against you, and you're still lookin' at my stomach."
"I uh I'm not." He's distracted enough that I can swing my legs across his lap "(Y/n), this is really inappropriate conduct for coworkers."
"I ain't on the clock," I slowly drag my shirt up to reveal the design. Two big blossoms of overlapping lavender and olive flowers. Any protests he tries to make are halted as he studies the image.
"These ones, "I guide his apprehensive hand as hi pointer finger traces my stomach "Are olive blossoms, they stand for peace. and these are lavenders."
"They mean feminity and grace." He clears his throat
"I've got more," I whisper playfully
"C-can I see them?" He swallows. I cross my arms at the hem of my shirt and pull it off, lifting the hem of my bralette.
"There's some text under my boobs."
"te amo para siempre." He reads without an accent, so it sounds stilted. "Did you get that for a boyfriend?"
"No, it's something my grandpa used to tell me." he runs his thumb over the cursive, "And on my collarbones." I guide his wrist to my right clavicle.
"'An eye for an eye,' I guided him across my chest, and he traced like he was reading braille.' leaves the whole world blind.' He connected his eyes with mine. His pupils were real big.
"Aw gee, I just realized I'm a little underdressed."
"Of course," he shifts around to encourage me to get off
"Uh uh, it could be you're just overdressed," I hold onto the knot in his tie
"No (Y/n),"
"You know, darling, your mouth is saying no, but your body is saying yes." I slide my hips forward and feel him suppress a shudder. I direct his head to look at me with blown-wide puppy dog eyes. "Maybe we should tell your mouth to let your body take over." I sink my lips against him, and he melts into me. Our lips smack as he pulls away
"(y/n), no, this isn't professional," he tries to disable my arms as I slide his tie knot apart
"Well, that's good. If I were professional, you get a hotel in a local jail for soliciting a prostitute." I get the knot loose and free his neck, making headway on the buttons. He shiftsbutI kiss his complaints away. Soon, sounds of complaint turn to moans as he succumbs to his body.
"Hey, Spencer," I pull away briefly and chew on my lip at the view. His hair is fluffed, and the top half of his shirt is flipped open. "I've got one more tattoo, and I think you'd really like it."
"I would?" he pushes his hair back "Why." I give him a peck as I reach for the button on my shorts. He grabs my hand and undoes the button himself. I guide his hand to the zipper, and he tugs it down. Instead of shimmying out of the shorts, I hook his finger in the elastic of my underwear. He pulls it down just enough to read the black text that slowly faded to show green.
"C6H12O6?"
"Yeah, you remember what that means?"
"It's the chemical formula for sugar." He snaps the underwear back into place, and I jump at the sensation, "Why?"
"Because I'm so sweet." I dive back in and kiss him. Heated aggressively like he's got the last cup of water on his tongue. He reaches into my hair to steady me, and with his second hand, he grabs my hip. I continue to unbutton his shirt until he shores it off into the distance.
"Well, look how handsome you are," I watch him blush, but I run my hands up his chest and over his collarbones. He blushes but guides my hand to his belt buckle. I love the sound a belt buckle makes. Before I can get his pants off him, Spencer surprises me. He picks us up and twists us, so my back slaps against the squeaky mattress.
He slithers down my body, kissing down the various tattoos. Gently, he slides his fingers into the waistband of my jeans. He slides them down and separates each of my knees. Almost entranced he licks up the gray cotton panties I wore.
"Spencer!' I moan in shock
"Please, this is my favorite part." He pulls the underwear off and tosses it to the side. I don't protest any further. It's rare to find a guy willing to go down on me, much less one that initiates. He wraps his arms around my thighs and places my knees at his shoulders. He wastes no time diving in.
With every man I've slept with, I've never felt someone go down on me with such fervor and skill. I'm taken down. He clings onto my clit with desperation. He drops my right leg so that he can trace gentle circles around my pussy.
"Spenc- Uh"
"Sh-sh -shh, just relax." He soothes me and rubs my inner thigh. I try to look down at him, but as he continues his ministrations, I lose my strength and flop my head back. Slowly, he sinks his pointer finger in, and I take a sharp inhale.
"Spe-EUUh!" His skill is shocking as he slowly moves his finger in and out. Once I was acclimated, he pulled out and put both his pointer and middle in. I do my best to suppress it for the comfort of the surrounding guests.
"Don't hide from me." He comes up and looks my face over
"There's other people around, Spencer."
"Then let them hear." He places a kiss on my forehead and sinks down to continue devouring me. I don't hold back as much as I'm embarrassed. He starts a 'come hither' motion and I roll my hips up into his face. He braces a hand on my hip.
"Sit still." He commands
Steadily, I felt a climax rising in me. I felt the muscles in my stomach clenching and tensing. I feel like yellow waves of pleasure ripple through my body.
"SPE—Spencerr, I'm gonna!" I desperately reached around and threaded my fingers into his hair. With my other hand, I felt around for the disheveled comforter. I balled my hands into a fist around what I held: his hair and the blanket. I climaxed faster than I had expected. Accidentally, I locked Spencer in with my legs. Desperate to keep the pleasure close to me.
It took me a moment to catch my breath. When I came to, I released my legs, and he resurfaced, wiping his mouth as he checked on me.
"How are you doing? Was that any good?"
"Good?" I gaped, and I saw him crumble a little in insecurity. Spencer, that was the best head I've ever had." He chuckled boyishly as I held his pants so he lay on top of me.
"Spencer?" I ask slowly
"Yeah," He kisses me on the side of the mouth
"I'm gonna fuck you now,"
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," I sit him up and unzip his pants and pull them down. His legs are ridiculously long, and it feels like an eternity to get him naked. I geek at his boxers. His cock is jumping against the fabric, and there is a small precum stain. I rub over the fabric, and he keens into my touch.
"Aww, so you're all talk," I tease
"S-shut up, you were just writhing under me." He leans back on his arms. The veins in his forearms are bulging, and I can see his stomach shift as he shifts under my pawing.
"Yeah, and now you will be."
I slide my fingers under the elastic, and he lifts his hips to help me free him. Gently, I stroke him, and he gulps back and moans. I mount him, letting Spencer guide himself into me. I sigh as I feel him slide in, and his hands gravitate to my hips.
"Woah," he grunts. It's probably the strangest reaction I've gotten, but I appreciate being such a stunner.
"How are you doing, Reid?"
"I-I'm sublime. How are you?" I shift my hips in contemplation, feeling my eyes pool in the back of my head.
"Oh, I'm doing-g just-" My sentence cuts itself off as the head of his dick kisses a sweet spot inside me. "Can you just give me a little boost?" He holds each of my hips and drags me across my lap.
"Oh fuck," I sigh, and I pick my hips up. We fall into a sensual rhythm as the world disappears around us. "Spencer, that feels so..." My forehead collapses against his collarbone. There's something about his dick that itches a scratch I didn't know I was feeling. Similarly, he mews below me.
"(Y/n)," he groans out below me "Don't stop." and I don't. Instead, I pick up the pace. I brace myself on his shoulders and slam my hips back and forth until my thighs burn. And when the sensation becomes overwhelming I keep fighting.
"Oh my- uh," He groans beneath me "(Y/n), (Y/n), I'm gonna cum." He sounds desperate. "(Y/n) you have to get off." He whimpers
"No, I'm gonna cum too. I won't-" I keep my hips galloping against his thighs, "PLEase- fuck, I'm gonna." I feel his cock twitch inside me, and warmth spreads through my thighs.
"Uh, nice and deep." I halt myself for a second," Spencer I gotta keep going."
"M'kay." I ride with such speed that I'm scared the legs on the bed will snap. Finally, I feel the point of no return—like watching a slow vase fall over, knowing you're too far away to stop it. I came. My knees buckled, and I fell chest-first onto Reid.
"Are you okay?" He holds my back steady and gently rubs my spine, and I catch my breath.
"Yeah, I'm okay." I sit myself up, and Spencer tucks some frizzy hair behind my ear. "Probably some of the sex I've had in... ever." His face lights up. I use his shoulder to stand up, and I feel it slide down my thigh.
"I'm gonna need a shower, but there's always room for two." I smile and trot off to the ensuite. It's not long before Spencer is chasing me behind the vinyl curtain to wet his hair and press a kiss to the back of my shoulder.
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rosedom · 3 months
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i need childe, he literally makes me foam at the mouth 😞 i just know he has some sort of titty (wriothesley and diluc too!!) and I'd eat his ass so good 🙏🙏
he a family man right? Iim giving him a family alright 😚
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"an unnamed player has invited CHILDE to play . . . welcome home, sugar
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ⓘ THIS WORK IS FOR 18+ ONLY
✦ㅤㅤ top!amab!reader, sub!bottom!childe, he's a househusband, nipple play, rimming, anal fingering & sex, spouses !!, breeding kink, creampie .
imagine workin' hard and coming home to none other than childe, your husband, on the living room sofa . . . i'm a slut for househusband childe (tho, he's def more of a slut for you)
"do you want to watch, [PLAYER]? press KEEP READING to spectate the match."
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Thinking about Childe spread out on your couch . . . He is, honest to god, such a tease. He's got his shirt on, of course, but the top buttons are undone, giving you quite the eyeful.
"Ajax." You shut the front door behind you with a click. "What're you up to?" you have to ask him, because it's Childe—it's your Ajax, your dearly beloved.
He smiles. "Nothin'."
"Nothin'?"
"Not a thing, dear." The mischievous little bastard, he is: always acting innocent, when the sprawl of his body across the sofa is anything but.
You say his name again, a quiet, "Ajax," forcing him to 'fess up. You watch the debate flicker across his pretty eyes—so simultaneously dull yet full of something akin to if not love, devotion—, but eventually, he acquiesces.
"I wanted to welcome you home, is all," he mutters, suddenly so uncharacteristically shy—telling you exactly how he feels, tonight.
Tonight, it seems, is going to be fun.
Fun for you, that is; it'll be nothing but absolute ruination for Ajax.
"So open for me," you murmur, you press into his sensitive skin. He cries out at the feeling of your lips brushing his perineum, your tongue dipping into his hole.
He can't help but whimper at the vibrations of your voice against such an intimate spot.
"Please," he says above you, his thighs tight around your head but not tight enough to obstruct his pretty, wrecked voice. You don't heed his pleas; rather, you tongue in deeper, pressing fingers into him next to it. You've got him so wet with your saliva, thick and beading off your tongue.
You lick and kiss and press, opening him up for you—so that when he'll sit on your cock, there'll be no pain, no sting.
Quite simply, you leave him open—open not just for your cock, but for your cum, too.
Then: God, gods, whatever—you don't quite know who to pray to if not Ajax himself, when you've switched places with the man, his holy body sat snug in your lap. He squirms and whines at you, tells you, "Get on with it," but his cock is hard n' leaking all over you.
You coo, "Be patient," looking up at him through your lashes. His breath hitches—you can feel it, his heaving chest presses against your cheek. Your quick grin, there and gone, is Ajax's only warning; because you tilt your face to the side and start to nip (hah) at his nipple.
Each bite is a gentle, teasing thing; each suck is sweet and tender, but makes Ajax's back arch into you all the same; and each lick is so soothing, a balm to his aching nipples.
"Mm—" he mumbles, quite eloquently.
So, "mm?" you mumble back around a mouthful of soft pink skin. He grumbles down at you, lost in the breathlessness of his voice.
You pull off his nipples with a quiet pop. "So," you begin, wrapping a hand around his neglected erection and delighting in the way his mouth drops open, kiss-bitten lips a striking red against his pale, flushed cheeks. "Gonna ride me, sugar?" Your other hand squeezes his hip; the cool metal of your wedding ring presses so perfectly into the divots of his skin, like he was made for you—made to marry you.
Ah, but it's hard to be sappy, you think, when you've got the heavy weight of your husband sinking onto your cock, lube-slick and achey, just like his own.
"Easy now," you have to whisper. Your husband is an overeager one, so quick to please; you think, then, that it is time you please him, in turn. "You feel so good on my cock, babe."
He'll adamantly deny it tomorrow, the way he whines and clenches around you at your words. "Please," he begs, too, another thing he'll so readily deny.
What he won't deny, however, is how much he wants a family—with you, especially.
"P-please," he begs, his arms wrapped tight around your neck as you've got his legs pressed to his chest, calves hooked over your back, "Breed me, please, wanna—" he hiccups here, a small, pitiful thing, "—wanna be full."
"Is my cock not filling you enough, baby?" He cries out at a particular thrust—tender but deep, budding up against the sensitive swell of his prostate. "How disappointing."
"No, no—!"
"What is it then, 'Jax?" You lean down and lick at his nipples, swollen and sensitive from your earlier teasing. Ajax whimpers, pressing your head further into him and seizing up around you—but he doesn't fall over the precipe, not just yet.
With a breathless whine, he begs, again, "Fill me up—your cum, please. Breed me—!"
Dear, dear Ajax: husband of yours, light of your life . . . man you so dearly wish to start a family with. Sure, you can't actually breed the guy, but hey—nobody said you couldn't pretend, no? Truly, how could you say no to a face like his, scrunched up and tear-stained and begging for your cum, for your seed to take?
"Oh, pretty," you coo, letting his nipple fall from your lips, simply breathless at the heady squeeze of him on your cock. "I'll fill you up, just like you want me to . . ." You pause, though, leaning up and cupping his face, the thrusts of your hips never ceasing. "'Til you're dripping with me."
'Til he's dripping, indeed. You thrust once, twice, and your hips stutter at Ajax's sweet whimpering moan when he cums, himself, untouched, spurting all over his belly.
"So good for me, baby," you blabber, thrusting to let him ride out his orgasm and to bring you to your own. He whimpers quietly, arms tight around your neck, and begs you for your cum, still. "'m gonna fill you up," you say, finally letting your own orgasm wash over you.
He whimpers, again, soft little sounds that make your orgasm ever harder, more intense. You shiver when your cock is spent, oversensitive, and you go to pull out—gently, slowly. A thick glob of cum dribbles past his tender hole, smearing across the head of your cock and his inner thighs.
It's not your fault that you gotta thumb the dripping cum right back into him. He'll mewl weakly, utterly spent, and now you've got a big lap of beefy house husband in your lap &lt;;3
Childe's truly such a family man; you've surely given him that which he craves, already, simply by being holding his hand in marriage.
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anon . . . i want ur hand in marriage. i hope this fit ur vision &lt;3!! diluc and wrio tiddy play in future fics . . .
'nd as for the other requests go: i'm getting there, i promise !!
JAN. 25, 2024. @rosedom, rosey .
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