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#My name and I went through a love hate relationship
pucksandpower · 5 months
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Your Friend Steve
Max Verstappen x Reader
Summary: it’s finally me and you, and you and me … just us, and your friend Charles
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r/relationshipadvice
u/yourusername · 9h
My boyfriend (26M) and I (22F) cannot get a second alone!
The two of us have been together for a few years now. We met through mutual friends and really hit it off. He’s caring, thoughtful, and we have the best time together.
The issue is ... his best friend (26M) is ALWAYS around. And I mean always. We’ll be out to dinner and bestie will show up and pull up a chair. We’ll be cuddling on the couch watching Netflix and he’ll let himself in with the spare key and wedge between us. I swear this guy is like an overeager puppy sometimes.
The other day I came home with my boyfriend and bestie was there ... sleeping on MY side of the bed because he “got lonely” at his place. And don’t get me started on trying to plan a vacation for just the two of us. Without fail, bestie always finds out where we are and shows up.
I’m happy they’re so close and I’d never want to get between them or ask my boyfriend to pick. But his best friend is starting to feel like a third wheel in our relationship. I jokingly said to my boyfriend that at this rate, bestie will be part of our engagement and marriage too!
I could really use some outside advice. How do I kindly set some boundaries with my boyfriend’s overly-attached best friend? I want all of us to still be friends but the constant third-wheeling is getting to be a bit much.
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u/relationshipguru123 · 8h
Wow, this sounds really annoying and awkward! Hate to say it but your boyfriend needs to step up and set some better boundaries with his friend. As close as they may be, it’s not ok for him to let his friend crash your alone time constantly. It’s disrespectful to you and your relationship. If your bf won’t address it, you’ll have to be the “bad guy” and talk to the friend directly to give him a reality check.
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u/NeedMoreSpace · 7h
I feel you, OP! My sister deals with this with her husband’s best friend too. They even joked that the friend would be IN the delivery room when they have kids one day 😳 She finally sat down with her husband and told him that while she cares about the friend, she needs some lines drawn for their marriage’s sake. Maybe suggest setting one or two date nights a week that are just for you two? And no dropping in unannounced! Compromise is key.
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u/BFFboundaries · 5h
This behavior would drive me CRAZY! You need to put your foot down with your bf and tell him his friend’s constant presence is affecting your relationship. Then talk to the friend together to make it clear you just need some alone time as a couple sometimes. If they don’t respect reasonable space, it will breed resentment.
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r/relationships
u/DutchLion · 5h
Help! My best friend (26M) is cockblocking me without even realizing it!
I (26M) have been together with my girlfriend (22F) for a few years. She’s awesome — fun, hilarious, and crazy sexy. She puts up with my quirks and even likes watching sports with me. Absolute keeper!
The problem is, my best friend has NO boundaries. I love him like a brother but he has zero concept of personal space or alone time.
Just last night, my girl and I were enjoying some long overdue freaky time together, when who bursts through the bedroom door unannounced? Yep, my best friend. Turns out he “accidentally” made copies of my keys ages ago.
Before I can react, he’s jumped onto the bed between us asking what we’re up to. My girlfriend was mortified and hurried to cover up. There went the mood for the rest of the night thanks to Captain Cockblock!
That’s just the latest in a long string of intrusions. Double dates, surprise sleepovers in OUR bed, you name it. I’m going to have to lock down the apartment Fort Knox style to get any intimacy!
Don’t get me wrong, I would take a bullet for my best friend. But how do I politely tell him that constant third-wheeling is killing my game and giving me the most painful blue balls known to man? Is there a tactful way to set some boundaries so we BOTH stay sane and satisfied?
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u/CantUnseeThat · 4h
Dude, I felt awkward just READING this! Major props to your girlfriend for being so chill. You gotta have a talk with your boy and set some hard lines. A real best friend would respect that your relationship needs privacy too.
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u/Locks4aReason · 3h
Your friend needs better boundaries yesterday. Sit him down, tell him you get he’s lonely but he can’t just walk in whenever, especially when sexy times are happening! Maybe suggest setting him up on some dates so he finds fulfillments elsewhere.
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u/needabroboundary · 3h
As much as you love your best friend, your personal life with your lady should be a priority over letting him run wild! Have a man-to-man talk and make it clear you just need some couple time a few days a week. Offer to schedule some designated bro time to keep that bond too. Gotta compromise.
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u/needspace321 · 2h
Don’t feel bad about setting some hard boundaries, even if it bruises his ego at first. True friends will understand. Explain you just need some regular alone time with your gf. Offer a standing weekly bro night to keep the friendship intact too. You need to have that balance!
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r/AmItheAsshole
u/PrinceOfMonaco · 3h
AITA for wanting to spend time with my best friend and his girlfriend?
Some background — my friend (let’s call him M) and I go way back to childhood. We’re basically as close as brothers. A few years ago he started dating his now serious girlfriend (we’ll call her Y).
Initially, I’ll admit I was worried M would drift away and our bromance would fade. But much to my delight, Y is awesome! She likes the same sports, laughs at my jokes, and comes to watch our competitions. Honestly it feels like I gained a sister!
Naturally, the three of us started hanging out constantly. I know me and M have always valued bro time together. But now Y joins our gaming sessions, I ride along on their date nights often, and I will even crash in their guest room after late nights! It’s been pretty great.
Or so I thought? Lately I’ve noticed them acting strange and tense around me. They barely react when I barge into their room or surprise them by their cars after work. Sometimes they pretend to be “busy” if I try making plans last minute.
I can’t figure out why though? Just the other day, I popped by to say hi only to have M rather sternly tell me I should “call before visiting from now on.” And I could swear I heard Y whisper about needing “boundaries” … whatever that means!
I’m starting to feel hurt they suddenly seem fed up with me! AITA here? Am I missing something? Someone help me decode these mixed signals!
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u/needboundaries101 · 3h
YTA. I know you value your friendship but your total lack of boundaries is overbearing. Your friend is trying to set reasonable limits without damaging the friendship but you’re oblivious to all hints. Surprising them and inviting yourself along all the time is inconsiderate. Give them space!
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u/respectrelationships · 3h
Soft YTA. I get you cherish the bromance and her friendship too. But constantly crashing date nights, unannounced visits, etc is cockblocking to the max! They likely feel too awkward to bluntly tell you that they need alone time too sometimes. Tone down the clinginess before you do permanent damage!
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u/flying_solo · 2h
NAH but only because you seem genuinely unaware your behavior is an issue! Most people would have picked up on the hints by now. You should DEFINITELY be calling ahead before visits or tagging along to closed plans. Give them a chance to say no thanks. Gotta let your bro spread his wings too.
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u/threesacrowd · 2h
YTA. You would lose your mind if your best friend was this invasive during your dates! When they make excuses or leave early, that’s NOT an invitation to join them unasked and uninvited next time! They’re just too polite to be harsh so I’ll spell it out — you have to give them personal alone time without taking offense.
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charles_leclerc
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Liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername, and 1,273,948 others
charles_leclerc happy third anniversary to my favorite couple ❤️
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maxverstappen1 thanks, mate!
charles_leclerc i’m going to pick up some dinner from that italian place we all like and i should be at your place in around 20 minutes
yourusername we really appreciate that, charlie. but you know … it’s our anniversary and we would like to celebrate alone
charles_leclerc i totally understand! that’s why i’m taking the food to go so we can celebrate alone with just the three of us
maxverstappen1 yeah but we want to ✨celebrate✨ you get me?
charles_leclerc you want me to stop and buy some sparklers?
yourusername what we’re trying to say is that we want to celebrate … in bed
charles_leclerc even better! your mattress is so comfortable and we can put some netflix on while we have a sleepover together
landonorris they’re literally spelling it out for you in black and white 💀
pierregasly mon ami, they’re trying to say they need some adult time tonight 😏 maybe skip the visit this once
danielricciardo how do i say this nicely … max and y/n are clearly desperate for uh, anniversary cuddles without you as the little spoon!
lewishamilton someone rescue my man charles from himself before it’s too late. praying the two lovebirds to get to celebrate properly tonight 😉
charles_leclerc of course we will all celebrate properly! i have champagne
roscoelovescoco read’s the room’s 🙄
f1wagupdates i can’t tell if charles is trolling them or if he genuinely doesn’t get it 😭
charles_leclerc what is there to get?
yourusername i give up 🤦‍♀️
yourusername … what flavor popcorn do you want for our sleepover?
charles_leclerc white cheddar, please!
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inkskinned · 3 months
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yesterday while feverish i wrote about how boats can moor next to each other like pigeons, cooing with the gentle rap of water against their hull. you once said that that the way i see things - birds in the water, feathers in marina paint - was "childish and naive." you said i'd been misdiagnosed - "it can't all be adhd. you might be just kind of stupid and lazy."
i still do certain things like how you taught me - turn the pillow case inside out before putting it on. drive defensively. hate myself entirely.
the prompt for this poem is "mahler's fifth." i wish it wasn't, but mahler's fifth was our song. it ended up in my book. every person that knows your name has promised me they'll give you one swift rabbit punch, right to the face. dean read the book and showed up on my front porch, drenched in sweat from running the 8 miles at 4 in the morning. he was shaking. pacifist and gentle - he works with children - i'd never seen him furious. a punch isn't going to do it, he said, and then said i'm sorry. i had to come to see if you were okay.
mahler's fifth was mine first, like my girlhood. i like the way each movement piles onto the next movement, each instrument bleeding into the next. i like the horn version the best. before i met you, i danced to it on grass still-wet from sprinklers.
later you would tell me that the way you heard it was somehow better. you understood something in it that i couldn't quite wrap my fingers into. once, on our anniversary, you asked the classical music radio station to play it for us. we missed hearing it because we were fighting. one of the things people get wrong about abuse is that sometimes victims are, like, brutally aware of the stupidity of our situation. what do you mean that you thought i wasn't good enough for you? you? you're just... nothing.
sometimes people can pull the poetry out of your life. i watched my words become clothesline, and then thin out into kite twine. i watched you chew through every good syllable of me. so many good songs and places and moments were ruined. i am glad you didn't like most of my music - less to tie back to you.
but still mahler's fifth. the music swells, and i am 21 and throwing up in a bathroom on my birthday. a woman i will later refer to as lesbian jesus runs a cool hand down my back, her perfect pantsuit starch-pressed. she told me to leave you. she said - and this is true, and not an invention of rhyme or fantasy - i'm you from the future.
i am 22, and i got home from an award ceremony, and i remember you telling me - you act so proud of yourself when you're actually so fucking embarrassing. i took you to disney world. you took my virginity. i gave up visiting spain for a week with my family - i instead choose you, to spend the time just-cuddling. you called it "our fuck week." the music swells. it probably should have been a red flag that for about 3 years - i just gave up on crying. my grandfather died and you said nothing. my uncle died and you ghosted me for 3 weeks. you said i need to protect myself from your ongoing tragedy.
every so often i come back to the memory of one of our last afternoons in person. i had just told you that i wasn't going to law school, despite the free ride - i was going to join a creative writing program. master's in fine arts. i was going to finally do it - i was going to follow my dreams. this blog was already internet-famous. however reluctantly, i would occasionally refer to myself as a poet. i got into umass amherst's writing program for fiction authors. it is one of the the top 5 programs in the country.
wait are you seriously considering actually attending that? dumbfounded, you turned completely towards me in your seat. for the 3rd time in our relationship, you almost crashed the car. you actually want to be a writer?
the first time i went viral, it was for a poem i wrote about you:
he wants to say i love you but keeps it to goodnight because love will take some falling and she's afraid of heights.
every time i see that, i want to throw up. you weren't in love with me, you were in love with the control you had over me. a little truth though: i am afraid of heights. you caught a rabbitgirl and skinned her alive.
mahler's fifth still makes me sick.
give me that back. give me back music. give me back everything i had before you. give me back fearlessness. give me back bravery. give me back a scarless body.
give me back what you took from me.
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star-sim · 2 months
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boy's night ☆ riki nishimura
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☆ summary: riki had no game, no rizz, which was why he employed the help of his six friends to text you. warning: having seven boys on the phone trying to text a girl does not give good results! ☆ genre: fluff, all enhypen members make an appearance, boys being boys, very stupid, it's getting rizzy in here but clearly i have negative game ☆ warning(s)? no just silliness :3 ☆ word count: 1.7k words
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"Oh my god, she texted me!" was the sentence that completely destroyed Jake Sim's house.
Tonight, Riki was having a sleepover at Jake's house. It was supposed to be a chill night, a night in which Riki could bask in his friends' presence before they went off to college again.
There were many perks to being the youngest in his friend group. It seemed like Heeseung, Jay, and Jake forever saw him as their baby, after all, when they all met as children, Riki was a snotty little four year-old, constantly tattling on the older boys. Regardless, it was nearly impossible for them to not fuss over him, constantly asking if he ate yet or if he needed help. Sunghoon teased the ever-living shit out of Riki, sure, but the older boy never hesitated to take Riki's side whenever there was an argument. Sunoo and Jungwon were closest to Riki in age, but that didn't stop them from watching over him closely, like mother cats stalking their cubs.
Though, there was one thing that Riki had to admit that he hated about being the youngest: he was the most inexperienced.
Whenever his friends got their 'firsts,' he was always too young to care. It seemed like all his friends got to experience their first crushes and heartbreaks almost simultaneously, only for them to not be there when Riki had his.
Even when he was now a senior in high school, he had absolutely no idea how to talk to girls.
He'd heard all the stories about Heeseung and his antics at college, all the flirting tips that Jake liked to give out to Sunghoon and Jay, and all the crazed texts that Sunoo and Jungwon sent as they went through relationships.
Even so, Riki had never experienced teenage love for himself.
Enter: You.
You were the cute girl that sat in front of him in his Macroeconomics class. If it wasn't for the fact that Riki absolutely hated Macro, he would blame the fact that you were just so pretty that he couldn't bring himself to focus on the lecture about the New York Stock Exchange.
Initially, Riki had no intention of pursuing you.
You were cute, obviously, but hearing you talk to your partner in class was enough for him. Plus, it wasn't like Riki had any experience— even if he wanted to talk to you, he had no idea how to!
Except, thanks to his nosy friends, your name had been discussed what felt like a million times by the end of the week.
"So... [Name], eh?" was the first thing Sunghoon said as Riki's camera turned on during their weekly weekend FaceTime calls.
"This is so exciting, Riki," Heeseung said as he joined the call.
"Wait, how do you know her again?" Sunoo's voice cut in. "Sorry, my Wi-Fi is bad. You said you know her from Macro?"
With a little more prying, his friends managed to get a middle-school level confession out of Riki.
"I-I just think she's really pretty, and like, she's really smart," Riki huffed, "I don't think she likes me like that— I've never even spoken to her! Like, I can't talk to women, I straight up am a mess and the other day—oh my god— she looked at me and I think I almost passed out. What do I do? I actually cannot do thi—
".... But you think she's pretty, right?"
And that's how Riki managed to get your phone number. With the help of his friends (that felt more like them feeding into his delusions), he worked up the courage to stutter out a simple question.
And when you smiled, nodding enthusiastically as you typed your contact into his phone, Riki felt his soul leave his body.
So, it wasn’t hard to imagine the havoc that engulfed Jake Sim's house (the place of the sleepover) as Riki's phone pinged, your contact name showing up.
It was already late at night, so the boys were raiding Jake's pantry to get midnight snacks. 
The moment that Riki announced that you had just, in fact, texted him first, everyone stopped in their tracks.
"Oh shit!" Jay shouted as he jumped over Jake's sofa, bowl of cereal still in hand.
The sound of crashing as Heeseung knocked over the ramen cups, as well as cutlery dropping abruptly and cabinets slamming filled the house.
"Oi, don't mess up my kitchen!" Jake yelled as his feet pounded against his stairs, scrambling so fast that he practically glided downstairs. After Jungwon spilled milk on his shirt, he was half-way through putting on a new shirt as he clambered down.
"What did she—" Sunoo pushed Jay out of the way, knocking the older boy over as he plopped down next to Riki on the living room carpet and peeked over his shoulder— "What did she say?!"
Within seconds, all six of his friends were huddled around Riki, pushing each other out of the way to catch a glimpse of what you said.
"Move your fatass head!"
"I can't see!"
As his friends argued, Riki stared at his phone, chewing on his bottom lip. His heart was pounding in his chest. He only saw the notification, and didn't see what you said yet.
What if you said something crazy, like "I just found out about that one time in first grade when you peed yourself at the playground" even though Riki and all his friends agreed to never speak of that incident again?! Or, what if you confessed your everlasting love for him in a long paragraph?
His head was spinning.
"Wait, did you open the message yet?!" Jungwon abruptly yelled into Riki's ear.
"No..." Riki answered slowly, watching the way all of his friends' once tense faces soften with relief.
"Oh my god," Jake sighed in relief.
"Phhhhheeewww!" Heeseung said dramatically.
"Why?" Riki frowned. "What's wrong with opening the message?"
"[Name] can see if you read her message if you open it," Sunghoon said matter-of-factly. 
"Why is that a bad thing?"
All of his friends groaned.
They taught him a trick: swipe just enough so that he could see the message, but not enough that the system marks it as read.
Hey, was all you said, much to Riki's relief.
"What do I say?" Riki asked, clutching his phone. His eyes flickered to his friends as he sucked his bottom lip under his teeth pensively. "How do I respond to this?"
"Just say 'hey' back!" Jay blurted.
"No!" Heeseung shook his head profusely. "Anything but that!"
"Why not? You want him to say haiiii instead?" Sunghoon nudged the older boy.
"No, no, no!" Jungwon reached across to smack Sunghoon's knee. "All of you are wrong."
Jungwon turned to Riki. "Just respond with an emoji."
They all groaned loudly.
"Okay, anything but a goddamn emoji!"
Riki ended up typing out a simple hey in response. He had to make Sunoo press send for him, squeezing his eyes shut. Riki immediately shut his phone off, placing it face down.
"I don't want to see if she responds or not!" Riki moaned. 
Within a minute or two, his phone pinged again.
"She responded!"
Even though you only asked, How was your day?, the entire house was once again invigorated. The boys shrieked, whooping and hitting Riki's shoulder, so loud that the house probably shook.
"Oh my god, it's happening!"
"Ouuuuu, she wants you, Riki!"
"Everyone shut the fuck up, it's time to lock in, oh my god it's actually happening—"
And just as everyone settled back down, ready to give Riki their mind-blowing advice, his phone dinged again.
[Attachment: 1 photo]. It was a silly picture of you, one of those cute ones that showed your eyes, clearly taken on the spot. 
"OHHHHHHHHHH!"
"Shewantsyousobadohmygo—"
According to Jake, if a girl sends you a picture of herself, no matter how silly or cute it is, she is head over heels for you.
"One message at a time!" Jay yelled over Jake's shoulder as they tried to figure out how to respond. "You need to answer her question first and then respond to the picture!"
"No! Don't respond to the picture!" Sunghoon, who was all the way in the guest bathroom, yelled from behind the bathroom door, his voice both booming and muffled. "She'll think you're weird!"
"I agree," Sunoo said.
"I agree," Jungwon mocked him in a nasally voice, earning a slap to the shoulder. "Just heart the picture!"
But their arguing fell upon deaf ears.
"Riki, what are you doing?!"
Riki was on his own, his heart beating at the tip of his fingers.
I hung out with my friends today and it was fun, how was yours? was his first response. Pressing on the picture, he responded, You look cute.
When Riki glanced over at his friends, they were sprawled across the floor, crying aloud dramatically.
"It's over."
"You're insane."
"Fumbled."
Riki threw a pillow at them. "I didn't fumble— Oh shoot, she's typing!"
The house was once again filled with screaming and crashing as they scampered to Riki's side.
You typed for a few moments. Everyone was at the edge of their seat, simply begging to see how you'd respond. But then, you stopped.
"Good game, guys."
"100% over."
Riki chewed on his thumb, his eyes glued to his phone screen. Did he creep you out? Was it weird for him to say that you looked cute? Did he fuck up?
But then you finally replied.
My day was just filled with homework, very boring, you replied. Maybe if I spent it with you it would have been more fun.
Oh.
My.
God.
Riki's hands shook as he typed back another response, completely ignoring the complete and utter disaster around him. He didn't know what came over him. He wouldn't say any of the things that he typed out loud, let alone to your face. It was like he was possessed by some spirit that gave him the courage to type. Without even noticing it, his heart was palpitating in his chest, his entire face, neck, and ears covered in a red shade.
I'm free tomorrow, he typed. 
"RIKI WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU—"
Okay, you simply responded. 12PM. The Block. Let's have fun.
"D-Did she just ask you out?"
Riki glanced at this phone, then at his friends, who stared at him with eyes as wide as saucers and their jaws dropped to the floor, then back at his phone. He blinked. "Yeah."
"Yes?!"
Riki blinked again. "Yeah."
.
.
.
And then it hit him.
"Oh my god, [Name] asked me out...!"
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wcters · 30 days
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𝗖𝗛𝗥𝗜𝗦 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗔 𝗚𝗜𝗥𝗟𝗙𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗪𝗛𝗢 𝗡𝗔𝗣𝗦 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗘
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pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!reader
summary: chris with a girlfriend who is obsessed with naps/naps all the time
warnings/notes: established relationships, i love naps, my favourite things
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- you love naps, you’re obsessed
- always down for one
- you can nap anytime, anywhere
- cars, planes, beds, couches, you name it
- you probably have an iron deficiency
- #hot girl shit
- you can and will fall asleep in the most uncomfortable positions and in any positions really: crisscross, curled up, head leaning on your knees, on your back, starfish, etc
- you could call yourself an expert 💅💅
- you look two ways when you’re sleeping: peaceful . . . or a victorian child dying on the plague
- that tiktok trend? that’s you, and you own it
- and chris had definitely posted you to that
- if not him, either nick or matt
- you also look like that polar bear waking from hibernation when you wake up
- or you went through a tornado
- dorothy from the wizard of oz who?
- so many pictures and clips of you alseep in the background of a video, tiktok, livestream, etc
- the triplets were filming a walk though of the tour bus and you’re just fast asleep in chris’s bunk wrapped in your blanket
- a lot of your friends bereals are you sleeping
- have a humidifier in your room at your house/apartment
- sleep with rain sounds on
- a shit ton of stuffed animals
- and that will be the same for chris’s bed
- they’ll take up most of the space on the bed and he will have a leg hanging off
- you refuse to take them off unless he begs
- you feel bad 😭😭 they’re you kids, you have to care for them
- spend a lot of money on stuffed animals, pillows, and blankets
- comfy fit 24/7
- uggs, sweatshirts, sweatpants, like a living and breathing fresh love ad
- everyone’s jealous
- chris loves you for it, but also dislikes it sometimes because it’s his clothes and he’ll want to wear them
- slippers 24/7
- naps with him!
- most cuddle sessions will end up as nap sessions
- or you alseep on top of him while chris is stuck sessions
- he says he hates it (he secretly loves it)
- a lot of the time even watching movies or hanging out will end up with you alseep in his lap because he likes to run his fingers through your hair (if it won’t mess it up and it’s not styled, scalp if he can) and your skin
- will carry you to bed
- you always wake up disoriented and covered in marks from the bedsheets pressing into you (signs of a good nap)
- you react to the word nap like a dog does to the word treat
- always excited for bed
- definition of snug as a bug in a rug
- you were an avid after school napper
- one of the only consistent things in your life
- you’re fighting a literal WAR between two and five pm to stay awake
- you fully expect (and deserve) a medal for staying awake 🏅🏅
- and you’re grumpy if you don’t have one. you were rude? you were acting like a bitch? didn’t have your nap.
- someone comments on how you sleep to much? immediately dislike
- like sis . . . what’s it to you?
- unless it’s a health concern, and even then, mouth. shut.
- if you’re sick, you’re napping/sleeping even more than you already do
- you’re the first one asleep at all nighters
- nick jokes that you might love sleeping more than you love chris
- . . . don’t tell him that.
- just kidding! . . .
- some of your favourite tiktoks are the ones where you get to choose where you’re sleeping
- you sleep talk sometimes (mostly gibberish) but not a lot, maybe like once or twice a month
- but you absolutely have had full on conversations with people and your answers make sense, and you will not remember them at all
- “hey, do you remember when i told you about that idea i had?” “no, when was this?” “last night.” “oh.”
- NAPS WITH TREVOR
- that dog lovesss you
- and loves taking naps with you
- will also nap with you in the car if you’re going on a road trip with chris and his family
- you love the feeling of his weight in your lap
- you’re a MENACE to wake up
- there have been times where chris just gives up and let’s you sleep if it’s not important because it’s taken him too long (he also gets lazy)
- a lot of the time it’s on their couch because you love their couch
- it’s so comfy, you’re favourite thing
- PISSED if you’re woken up by something stupid
- like one of the boys will make a loud noise and then they’ll all stand there like ‘oh shit’
- if you wake up and chris isn’t with you but he’s in the house, you’ll make a beeline to him and just hug him
- probably fall asleep in his arms standing up
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surftrips · 5 months
Text
CROSS YOUR HEART AND HOPE TO DIE
pairing: young coriolanus snow x reader
word count: 600+
summary: based on "follow you" by bring me the horizon. young/slightly ooc coriolanus snow finds comfort in y/n's arms.
a/n: yeah, i can't believe i'm returing from my hiatus with a coriolanus snow x reader fic, but here we are. please feel free to send in prompts/requests with him though ;)
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"Because I don't want to fucking hurt you.” Coriolanus snapped. "God, half the time, I'm scared I could break you, even though I'm doing everything I can to hold back."
Your boyfriend was having a hard time lately. The anniversary of his father's death was creeping up and you knew he was having those thoughts again.
He had confided in you early on in your relationship his two biggest fears: losing you, and turning into his father. Now, he was spiraling with thoughts of both happening.
"Talk to me," you said, trying to reassure him. The two of you were by the lake, entangled in each other's arms on a blanket.
"I- I just..." he was trying to catch his breath. "I'm so angry all the time and you, you're an angel. You've never done anything wrong in your life. I don't deserve you, I don't know how to not fuck this up."
You couldn't help but smile at his name for you, reaching out to caress his cheek. He leaned into your familiar touch, one of the few things that could calm him down when he was like this.
It was true, he did get mad at the smallest things. Just last week, he got jealous of Sejanus for holding up your skirt as you went down the stairs, even though the two of you were clearly just friends.
And yesterday, he was frustrated with something that happened during training and came back to the cabin furious. You had asked him how his day was, like usual, and he had snapped at you.
"It was bad. Do you have to ask me that everyday?" he retorted, knocking over the items on the shelf closest to him.
But even though he got jealous or angry sometimes, you knew that he was working on it. He always felt awful afterward, and always made sure that you knew how sorry he was. That night, he had drawn a bath for you and even added some wild lavender he found near the water.
"Hey, you know I love you, right?" you said.
He sat up slightly to make better eye contact with you, "I do. But what if that's not enough?"
You frowned, "My love isn't?"
"No, no. I meant what if love, in general, is not enough? What if that's not enough to change my fate? Y/N, you know about my father, he was awful."
"I know, Coryo," you sighed. "But I also know you, and you're a good person. You love me, you love the Covey. You care about me, and your family. You want to be good, and I think that is enough."
Still, he didn't seem convinced. "I hate that I can barely remember him anymore, but he's still haunting me. The rebels that killed him haunt me. What if that happens to me?"
"Stop. No one here is going to do that, they know you're on our side. Don't you see? You're trying so hard to not be like your father, but you don't have to try to be good. You just are, deep-down in here," you pointed to where his heart is. "You are."
He leaned down now to pull you into a kiss. "Angel, can you promise me something?"
"What is it?"
"Promise me you'll never leave my side."
"Coryo, you could drag me through hell if it meant I could hold your hand. I will follow you to the ends of the earth. We're in this together."
That seemed to please him, finally. He wrapped his arms tighter around you and pulled you to lay back down with him. The two of you stared up at the stars, each silently wishing for this to work out.
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hoshigray · 4 months
Text
𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 | satoru gōjo
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𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Gojo isn’t one to mess with other people’s relationships, especially yours, the widow of his best friend, Geto. And now, when celebrating the anniversary of your late husband’s death, you’re most definitely off limits…when alcohol isn’t involved.
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x widow fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - kissing/makeout sessions - thigh riding - grinding/dry-humping - breast fondling + sucking + nipple play - missionary + spooning positions - clitoral play (swiping and pinching) - pet names (angel, baby, babe, cutie, princess) - overstimulation - creampies - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up or get the fuck up) - the reader is the widow of Suguru Geto + mother of Nanako and Mimiko - implied usage of alcohol - Gojo and the reader are pretty terrible together, to be real - expressions of guilt/shame - mention of sweat and tears - bittersweet ending - will fully proofread l8r.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6k
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: would y'all believe me that this idea came to me literally last night? wrote it all in 9 hrs total, lmao. enjoyyyy, and tysm for 4.8k !!?? love every single one of yas!!
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“—Pffthahaha, why did you drink so much? I thought you hated alcohol!”
“I do!! But that guy at the bar kept buying you drinks even though you told him not to—Hic, Ahh fuck…”
“Oh God, Gojo, you better not hurl on my white carpet! Drink the water and eat your slice of bread!”
You and Gojo are in the warmth of your home, lying on the floor of your living room and laughing the night away. The two of you just arrived from a fun evening with old high school and college buddies, and, from the looks of it, you two seemed to have a ball hanging with the old company. Poor Gojo got the short end of the stick, being the lightest of lightweights of the group, and is now fighting a massive headache and being tipsy at the same time. Luckily, being the kindest friend, you took him to your home and gave him his favorite hangover food: slices of sweet bread! 
“I know, that dude just wouldn’t quit,” you take a sip of your glass of water to ease the tipiness. You giggle while reminiscing about the events that happened tonight. “Nanami was about to stop him, but you went ahead and just took the shots given to me.”
“Well, excuuuuse me! For being your great buddy on both ends,” he points at you with a piece of bread between his fingers, heavy laughter spewing from your stomach. “I helped make sure his money didn’t go to waste buying shots for the prettiest person at the bartop, AND help you not get any drunker than you are now.” 
You say in snickers, “I didn’t know you were the prettiest person in that pud.”
“Oh, shut up.” He couldn’t tell if the alcohol was making his cheeks rosier or if it was the sound of your laughter filling his eardrums. 
Gojo has known you since sophomore year of college. You were in the same dormitory tower with him and his best friends, Suguru Geto and Shoko Ieiri (she roomed with you the following year, along with Utahime and Mei Mei). The four of you didn’t quite know each other until Geto had a class with you, and the two of you were assigned a presentation. From there, you were invited to his dorm and met his roommates: Gojo, Nanami, and Haibara. Then, you were requested to come over and play video games with the boys or eat with them whenever the group went to the dining hall. And the next thing you knew, you upgraded from acquaintance to friend in a matter of weeks, fitting right in with the odd bunch.
The group cherished you and your presence — especially Satoru Gojo. The white-haired fellow would treat you as if you were his closest friend. He’d find you in your classes through the windows and make faces that you’d try to hold your smile at, knock on your door to come to hang out with you whenever he wanted to see you or if he and Geto had a fallout, point to you whenever he’d make a three-pointer during the basketball games, or come from behind you to hug without you knowing because he loved how you’d squeak from surprise and try to squirm out of his hold. 
It wasn’t long before he realized he had a crush on you until the second semester of the sophomore year when you considered transferring schools, which everyone was sad about but respected your decision. However, Gojo was more upset about it than the others. He didn’t like that he made a friend, and you two were returning to being strangers in different worlds. Sure, there was calling you and texting, but it wasn’t the same. He wanted to see you smile, see you laugh, see you around with him. And the realization didn’t hit him until the first week of junior year when you called him one night and said that you decided to stay. He knew then and there that he cherished you more than the others, becoming a treasure he wanted to protect from harm. 
However, he wasn’t the only one who adored you as much — if not more. In the summer of his junior year, Geto told his best friend he had feelings for you. And Gojo’s world was crushed for five seconds as his dark-haired friend confided in him. But when he responded, he quickly swallowed his pride and said, “That’s great, Suguru! I’m sure they’ll like you back.” And with that, you did, accepting his confession and spending your final year as a couple. And it didn’t stop there; many years later, Geto would go down on one knee for you, move in, and have two beautiful daughters with you. 
Gojo bore witness to all of this, seeing his two friends become the happiest they could be with each other. It felt a bit painful — okay, that was sugarcoating it; it was excruciating, enduring hiding his feelings for so long. However, if it meant seeing the two of you happy, who was he to rain on your parade? So, instead, he was your biggest cheerleader, wishing you all the best for the two of you and your happy life. And seeing as though he’s now in your home, drunk, and sharing laughs with you, it was the best move he could ever make. 
You took a nice big stretch against the couch behind you, yawning, “Thank you for taking me out. I really needed that. Do you know how lonely it is having two teenage girls who wanna hang with their friends more than their own mother? I was about to buy myself a crochet kit to keep me busy.”
He laughs at your comment about your daughters, Nanako and Mimiko, who’re now dead asleep upstairs in their room. Gojo lies down on the carpet, “No problem~. Nanami mentioned a nice restaurant that opened up recently, and I figured we could all use a night out.”
“You thought right,” you agreed, swaying from side to side, something you always do when you’re tipsy. Gojo thought it was cute. “And with, you know…the anniversary and everything, it took my mind off it…Thanks for coming with me to the grave today. The girls really appreciated it.”
He hums, taking off his sunglasses to rub his eyes. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Ah yes, the anniversary. Today was significant for the two adults in this living room, the teenagers sleeping soundly, and the friends you spent with tonight. It was the anniversary of Suguru Geto’s death. A dear friend and husband died in a car accident, trying to save a child from an upcoming car that wasn’t stopping at a crosswalk. The news came so suddenly to everyone, Gojo being the first to hear about it. He remembered the day all too well two years ago, knocking on your door to which you welcomed him with a smile like always. But you knew something was wrong; he could tell that his lack of response made your beaming light dwindle by the second. And when he told you the tragic news, the light completely disappeared, substituted with tears and gut-wrenching screams. 
The funeral was depressing, of course. Many tears were shed, many kind words were said, and many rose petals covered the coffin when dropped and buried with the earth. Gojo was the only one who noticed you were the last to leave Geto’s side, trembling hands with nothing to do or hold on to. He was hesitant, but the tall man walked behind you and pulled you into an embrace. And like a flipped switch, you cried into his arms, finding solace through grief with the person closest to you. 
That wasn’t the least time you cried with him, but those are memories meant for the two of you to share. There’s no need to delve too deep into another heart-rending episode, not after such a fun evening with everyone.  
“You know,” Gojo leaves his imagination to turn to you from the carpet, seeing you twiddling with the rim of the glass. “I think we would’ve loved tonight. I remembered before the accident, he texted me saying he would kill to have a beer with Nanami and Haibara again.” 
The tall adult scratches his brow with a chuckle, “Yeah, I’m he’d love tonight…If anything, he’d be astonished by how many beer mugs Haibara can take compared to freshman year. The kid couldn’t even handle three glasses.” 
“I know, and—pfft. Poor Ichiji and Mei Mei, having to deal with a drunk Utahime now after her drunk ass almost pounced on Shoko to kiss her. You think she’ll remember any of that?”
“Pssh, no, but you can bet your ass I’m making fun of her about it first thing in the morning.” The manchild barks a laugh when you kick his shoulder, making sure not to make a mess with his bread and water. 
“You’re one to talk, Satoru,” the named man giggled harder; he loved when you used his name as you scolded him. “For someone who puked a waterfall after one shot from his junior basketball team party, I don’t know where you got the balls to take the shots that random dude was buying for me.”
“What can I say; I’m a ballsy guy.”
You suck your teeth, taking another sip of your water. “You’re so annoying…Although, I know you did it to look out for me. I’d probably be wasted right now if I had those many shots. So, thanks again.” 
Gojo lifts his sunglasses to wink. “Anything for you~” The sing-song tune of his voice makes you your eyes, but you continue talking.
“And thanks for all the times you’ve been available to help me. I know you and everyone else are busy, so I always feel bad when I ask—“
“Don’t be. I’ll always be here if you need me because I care about you.”
“Always?”
He looks in your direction to see that your eyes are fixated on his. Gorgeous eyes that captured his entire being the first moment he met you and now make him weak whenever they land on him. Darling eyes that were the prettiest things he’d ever seen, and that’s saying something because he’d been told countless times that his pale blue orbs were the most beautiful in the world. Alluring eyes that await his answer with patience. And so he says, “Always.”
You give him a soft smile, “Okay…I care about you, too.”
The two of you keep staring until you realize you have been gazing at Gojo for too long and avert your gaze downward. Gojo takes the hint and mentally slaps himself for it. Fuck, why did I do that? He stands up, groans, and covers his face in shame for that slip-up. You don’t know that he has a lifelong crush on you; everyone else knows. They’ve always known. The Gojo Satoru fell in love with the lover of his best friend. Correction: his dead best friend. 
Anyone would see the problem in this situation. A best friend’s lover that you’re also close with? Don’t even think about it, Gojo, he curses himself. He knows all too damn well that you’re out of his field. You were the forbidden fruit that he couldn’t indulge with anymore. It was bad enough that you looked good tonight, wearing that cute halter top with long sleeves and those leggings that shaped your lower half beautifully so that he couldn’t keep his eyes off you all night. And he wasn’t the only one like that fucking old bastard at the pub buying you drinks. It made him sick, honestly.
“Ya know, Satoru,” he hears a glass hitting the wooden floor; you probably put your water down. He couldn’t see because his face was still covered, but his ears listened to your voice inching closer to him. “Remember that last home game we had at the inner arena of sophomore year?” 
You remembered that? “Yeah, I remember.”
“And when you missed the winning shot, making the game stuck in a tie?”
“…Yeah.”
“Well, I, uhh…” he heard the carpet moving around — you were moving around. “I went to Hime and Koko about it because you looked out of it, and I was worried.” Hime and Koko: those were the nicknames you referred Utahime and Shoko. “…Wanna know what she told me?”
Finally, the man removes his hands to look. And he sees you on your hands and knees, your eyes catching him instantly. Thank God that his sunglasses were on because it would be pretty bad if you found his orbs wide at you. He could faintly smell the perfume coming from you. It was intoxicating and drove him crazy. He can only hope you wouldn’t notice the blush creeping up on his cheeks, thinking it was just the booze. “Wh…What did she say?”
“She said,” You sit on your knees, using your hands to take off Gojo’s glasses, and his breath hitches when you do so, putting them on the side. “You were upset that night because I said I was thinking of transferring.” You bring a finger to swipe his white bangs to the side and scoff. “Hehe, now, I can guess why you took my drinks.”
He gulps, yet it hurts to swallow. “Y/n..I—“
“Did you like me back then, Satoru?”
“…I’ve always liked you, Y/n. We’re friends—“
You shook your head. “No, no.” Come on, now. This wasn’t college anymore; you’re both adults now. You weren’t no fool. “Satoru, did you like me? More than a friend?” 
Oh, fuck. He didn’t expect this to happen. Not in a million years. Gojo was never one to be nervous about things. But you? You were his exception, his one weakness. And it sucks even more that you’re aware of this fragility. He’s caught up now. He can’t lie, not to you, of all people. 
“…Yes.” 
He noticed your brow twitch, fucking hell. “…Do…Do you like me now?” 
Fuck, Y/n, why would you ask that? He knows you deserve the truth, but it was painful to give it. 
“..….I’ve always liked you, Y/n.”
And there it was: the truth, finally out for your judgment. Gojo’s face felt so hot it was unbearable. He needed something to happen, anything, please! His dignity and shame depended on it. It was too much to bear. The pounding in his head was a pain that never had happened to him in this extreme degree, and it hurt so damn bad. God, end me already. I don’t care anymore. 
But he did care because why else would he still be looking at your face? He wanted to know what you’d do with that knowledge you received from him. Would you discard him? Never speak with him? He needed to know. Whatever happens to him is undisputedly deserved for being the dumbass who confesses to the spouse of his late best friend. 
And then, like an answer to a prayer, something does happen. Gojo felt the coldness of your palm when you put your hand on his cheek, your forefinger brushing the lobe of his ear, and the skin temperature contrasting against each other until there’s shared heat. 
Your eyes were locked in with his, honed with soft sternness, and your face inched forward hesitantly. Holy shit, he knew what you were about to do. It was a bad idea all around. If he really respected you as a friend – for both you AND Geto – he would intervene right now. He’d put his arms up and refrain from doing what you were about to do, no matter how much the inner, darker part of his soul wanted it. 
However, we wouldn’t be telling this story if nothing ever happened, if Gojo didn’t let you put your soft lips on his plump ones, the two meshing together to signal the first union between you two. 
The kiss was slow, filled with doubt at the start, as if you were hoping he’d push you away. But then you kissed him again after the first, and then the second. Three kisses was all it took to solidify Gojo’s next moves, daring to put a hand at the back of your neck. Which you allowed, you moaned at it. It ignited him, putting his other hand on your waist to suggest intimacy. And when you crawl further in his direction, there’s no going back.
You move to sit on his thigh that he propped up, cupping his face to keep him in your direction, grinding your lower half onto his jeans to create friction. Gojo follows your lead, moving his hands down to your ass, the flesh of it massaged by his slender yet firm fingers. 
Whimpers kept egging him on, wanting to touch you more. The kiss becomes steamier, exchanging and swirling each other’s tongues, and he playfully sucks on it to hear you whine for him. “Ahhnn, don’t tease me, ‘toru…” Oh, don’t say that. Because now that’s precisely what he wants to do, slamming his lips into yours with a moan.
Your arms come around his neck, your legs grinding down on his thigh involuntarily to ease the aching commotion that’s brewing inside between your legs. His hands come to your waist, urging you to hump him more like this. The feeling of you on his leg felt so gratifying, arousing him to move his hips on their own.
This was so bad. No, it was tremendously bad. What was he thinking? Touching you and kissing you like this as if he were your lover — your Suguru Geto — and on the anniversary of your late husband’s passing, too. Did he finally lose his mind?! Even if it was the alcohol that was deranging his thought process right now, he still was conscious enough not to bring this predicament to a stop. Oh, this was beyond terrible.
It was just as terrible as you pulling your face off of him to respire, panting heavily, and wiping the tiny bit of saliva that stuck to your lip. Gojo knew he shouldn’t think like this, but he wanted to kiss you again, to pull you in once more, and have you mewing for him. You smelt, tasted, and felt so good for him. It would be a crime to leave you alone like this now.
Icy blue eyes examine your expression, taking in every feature of your beautiful face that he finally has on top of him like this. You look down at him with your hands returning to cup his hot cheeks. He always knew you were an angel, and now he has proof.
“You care about me, right?” You ask him with your half-lidded eyes that glowed softly under the warm ceiling lights. Gojo nods slowly, and you carry on. “Stay with me tonight, please…”
It was hard to swallow when you requested that. The night was already ruined — you were ruined — by him. There’s no way he could make this even worse. Nevertheless, the thought of saying no to you was contradicting his actions as he pulled you in for an embrace, kissing you down your neck and sucking your collarbone.
And damn him for feeling any excitement and joy from this…
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Gojo felt like the worst. 
No, correction: he is the worst. 
Ignoring all these years of his inner, bottled-up feelings have finally erupted and burst into shards that pierce his skin as punishment. All those side glances, all those handholds, and all the cheering from the sidelines; every single memory that’s been stacked within this glass now feels like needles to the heart. Needles to his entire being. 
He felt like shit. There’s nothing about that sentence that feels like an understatement; he was an utter shit. He knew it and felt really bad about it.
…And yet, having you under his bow like this, saying his name in soft whines and your fingernails scraping on his pearly, sweaty skin only pushed him into feeling terrible even more. 
Gojo was now in your room, a place he only imagined to be inside his dreams and personal thoughts, away from the judgment of Geto and others. This room was never for him to step in — it was your room. The only people who could be in this space were your late husband and his children, no one after. So, being here, lying in your bed with his clothes on the cold bedroom floor, was like a shank to the gut.
Plus, it didn’t help that the girls’ room was across from the room he was in; if worse could come to worst, they could walk in and see that their mother was nude and a disheveled mess under the presence of another man. It would sicken them, having them defy anything that they hold to their heart. They’d deny Gojo’s existence for such an act; they’d reject you for indulging along with him. He wouldn’t forgive himself. He doesn’t forgive himself now…
And worst of all, the thing that was hard to accept in the first place was you. You, who allowed him to even place a finger on you after letting him confess to you; you, who wrapped your arms around his neck when he put his plump lips on yours, the faint taste of alcohol being a reminder of the events they partook prior and has led to this; you, who looked at him with such gorgeous eyes full that struck his heart, eyes full of subtle wanton and need that he couldn’t ignore. He’d be the biggest fool if he ever did — hence the man claiming your lips with hesitant reluctance and having you to himself. Finally. After all these years.
Now, the snow-haired man is on your bed, mind still a bit tipsy but aware of what he’s doing. How could he not be? What he’s doing now is what he’s always longed for — his deepest, darkest secret.
Pistoning his cock to and fro into your wet cunt was a sight worth keeping in his mind forever. Its warmth, the tightness of your walls around him, the tip of his dick poking your sensitive spots and evoking the prettiest, cutest, and most vulgar noises he never, in his years of living, would think he’d hear leave your mouth. Good, he could die tomorrow for this crime – he should be – and he wouldn’t mind. Because this was such a treasure to his eyes, his death would be worth it if it meant having you like this. It was a terrible thing to think of, no question. And he’ll criticize himself later for not caring.
“Ohhooo, ahahhh, Satoru,” His sky-blue eyes took you in, your eyebrows furrowed with eyes sewn shut, your hands gripping the satin sheets of your bed, and your body recoiling with every thrust the Gojo threw your way. The image of your breasts bouncing with every rut was such a beautiful thing to see, Gojo bringing a hand to grope one mound while taking the other to his mouth. The tweeze of your nipple and the light grazes of his teeth as he sucks your bud makes you wail even more. “Oooohh, ‘toru, don’t suck so hard…Nnmaahh!!”
He releases your nipple from his lips, giving it tantalizing licks while hammering his length into your slit, and your shrieks were forbidden music to his ears. His pelvis coming at you hard and bumping into your clitoris was too much for you, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders. “Ohhh fuck, oh Jesussss, Satoruu, mmmph!! I’m gonna cum, I’m about to cummm,” you’d tell him with pleading, watery eyes. 
“Hnngh! Shit, shit, let it out, baby,” Now, who the hell gave him the right to call you that? He was treading in deep waters he wasn’t supposed to swim in, calling you pet names as if he were your husband. Who does he think he is? Gojo doesn’t know anymore. “Let it go, cum on this dick…Aishhh, fuckingshit…” He’d take your breast back into his mouth, his tongue giving the nub an onslaught of teasing bites and aiding licks. Meanwhile, his free hand would snake down your abdomen and thighs, finding your unattended clit and giving it the attention it deserves, using his fore and middle finger to apply circular motions on the delicate bud. And your orgasm comes crashing down when he gives your clit a pinch, the walls of your chasm contracting around his cock with an ecstatic howl from your puffy lips. 
Gojo watches it all play out – you in your climax – for the second time tonight. He feels it in your nails scraping the flesh of his back, your vagina clamping onto him until your high comes to pass, the arch of your back bringing you closer to him and exchanging heat. Your elated expression was frame-worthy, something he’d want to look at until the end of the Earth. And yet, witnessing it wasn’t a privilege given to him.
The trembles of your legs simmer down, and your whimpers go hushed as your back returns to the dampness of your bedsheets, releasing your fingers from the flesh of Gojo as your figure takes in oxygen to even your breathing. 
The man towers over you, wiping cold, stray tears that trickle down your warm cheek. “That felt good, angle?” Again, calling you names he would never dare call half an hour ago. And yet you don’t ridicule him for it, nodding to him with a pleasant hum. Gojo kisses your lips, along with another and another. He knew he had no right to have your lips on his like this – had none whatsoever. But you tasted so good, felt so good. You were addictive; he knew this all too well. And here he is, a fool throwing himself into the fire.
He lets go of your bottom lip with a tug, maneuvering himself onto his side to spoon you, lifting your leg to make sure his hips have a clear way through as he inserts his length back inside you. He ruts into your wetness again, and the sensation sends a sharp tingle up your spine. You cry out, “Ahahhnn!! Sa–toru! D-Don’t! I’m still sensitive—Mmmm!! There…” 
“Shhhh, I got you, princess. Let me take care of you, okay?” Gojo coos to your ear, making you purr and arch towards him.
And then his hips go back to pushing and pulling, his dick thrusting in and out of your creamy cunt. You breathe in hushed pants, letting the rhythm of his ruts churn your insides. You say his name in a beautiful whine, having him kiss under your chin in response. 
Plunges to your vagina feel so good for both of you, finding comfort in each other’s warmth in this intimate position — a position that is meant for lovers. Something that Gojo knows that you two aren’t. Yet here he is, stuffing you with his shaft until your southern lips meet his balls as if he was your mate for life.
He says your name to your ear, his face buried in the crook of your shoulder, the perfume you wear making him dizzy. And when his cock grinds against the wall of your vagina and hits your precious spot, your eyes shoot wide, and your scream comes out in broken sobs. “—Ahhh!! Haahh!! Satoru, Satoru—Oh, God, ohmygoood!!”
“—Gahhh!! Hahhh, heh, you okay?” He smiles at your reaction, his free hand coming from behind you to capture a breast. “That’s a cute face of yours, angel. Wanna see more of it…” 
And he makes sure of it by bucking into your chasm with haste, going at an irregular speed, and more massages to your walls have you sobbing in pleasure. The stimulation overwhelms you and your worked-up nerves so wickedly that you grab tufts of his frosty hair. He presses his forehead to yours, sharing exchanges of groans and moans in the limited space you two have to breathe. 
Gojo is aware of this entire situation, aware that this charade will change absolutely everything. His relationship with you can never go back to what it was before. College friends, trusting buddies, asking for advice, sharing jokes and laughs, being shoulders to cry on — all of that, and more, changed the moment the man first took your lips in the living room. It’s a ginormous price he’s forced to pay for one night of passion and comfort, to be in your loving arms like he’s dreamed of. 
He could never look at himself the same again, and he wouldn’t blame you if you were to do the same. Shut him off, ignore him, having no meaning in your world anymore outside of a betrayer and an unforsaken friend…However, if this is what his life will be like when he wakes up, he might as well see this night through. Let him have you through it all before the world tears him apart for it.
“Hooohh!! Ohhh!! Noo, aahhnnn,” your keens go higher and higher, twitching with every jab to your inner walls and a tweak to your nipple between his finger and thumb. “It’s coming, it’s coming again, Satoruuu—“ 
“—Hahhgg!! Ahhh, shit, shit, shit…cum with me, baby,” he has his hips go at a relentless pace, pounding harder to your slit, prompting more strangled gasps to fill the room along with the sound of skin slapping against each other. 
It doesn’t take long for the both of you to come together, Gojo taking your lips in to drink your moans as his member spills his load into your fluttering folds, taking sharp breaths to stabilize your heaving, sweaty bodies that sink into the sheets. Jerking figures cuddled up together as you two experience your own set of aftershocks until the waves of orgasm wash out and leave you air to calm down. 
Although, even with the climaxes gone, you two continue to kiss each other. Your hand nestled in his hair at the back of his neck, bringing your other hand to take his from your chest. Your fingers intertwine with his, grasping and uniting them like lovers — like soulmates. Again, something that Gojo is not. And probably will never be to you. But tonight, he is yours, and you were his.
Your plump lips withdraw from his with the removal of his member, him leaving a trail of kisses from your lips down to your shoulder. “Thank you, Satoru,” you sounded tired, blinking at the ceiling of your bedroom. “Thank you…”
He doesn’t say anything, not wanting to ruin the moment. He’s done enough damage now, hiding his face with the warmth of your neck from reality. He doesn’t want to think about it. So he closes his eyes, distracting his gnawing guilt with images of you flashing behind his fatigued eyelids. Your smile, your laugh, just you. That’s all he wants to think about in this moment…
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Gojo woke up but did not move. 
He was awakened by birds of the early morning when everyone else would be sound asleep.  But that’s not what he deserved — he doesn’t get to have this pleasure this morning – or any morning – from now on. 
Because what kind of man who wakes up to the bosom of his best friend’s widow thinks he deserves to sleep soundly ever again?
Gojo knew the guilt would be the first thing that’d hit him when he woke up. He was hoping for something different — maybe Nanako and Mimiko walking up to their mother’s room and slapping the man who stained their father’s bed with the seed of another man. But no. Instead, he was awake for three more hours. And what better punishment endowed to him than to use those three hours to contemplate what he’s done?
Three hours of looking at the sunrise from your bedroom window. The gradual transition of the darkness turning into the light, unsheathing the pitch black curtains of the night and welcoming the beginning of a new day. But Gojo preferred the night; it protected him with the vision of his shame. Now, with the morning sun coming out into the sky, he felt naked – exposed to his sin for the eyes of many. 
Three hours of silence. Nothing but silence. The only noise that tormented yet blessed his eardrums was the light snore from you, the rise and fall of your chest coming and going. He could’ve counted your breaths but didn’t. It was the only “good” thing happening around him. Being between your legs and listening to you sleep was something out of a dream — a dream he never thought would happen. And yet here it is and in the most horrific way possible. He took advantage of you; that was the lowest of the low, crossing a line never meant to be crossed. So, for that, he reveled in the silence. It was the most merciful thing that happened since he opened his eyes.
Three hours of being in your embrace. Your arms wrapped around him, making sure he knows what he did. It’s not what you meant to do, maybe wanting to keep him warm by being close to you. But for him, it was another invisible lashing. The hand on his shoulder felt heavy, as if he could morph into your body at any moment. The hand on his head gave faux consolation, the air from your exhale lightly pushing it down. It all felt so wrong, the twinge in his stomach becoming more and more distorted with every passing hour. It was so foul, being intimate with the partner of his dead best friend. Unbelievable…..but the false comfort had him grounded from shutting down.
Three hours of what happened last night replayed in his head nonstop. It was his own form of punishment. Every recollection of you under him, crying for him, holding onto him, and being vulnerable with him was one arrow after another. 
Three hours of this all occurred before him until you woke up. He knew you woke up when the sudden halt of your breath stilled your figure, and it made his heart drop to his feet. You took long, slow breaths as if you were scared to move. You were scared. You had every right to be. And Gojo didn’t say or do anything until you spoke after an entire ten minutes moved by.
“Satoru?” You said it in a whisper, afraid that someone else would hear it leave your mouth, like a slur to this bedroom. 
He doesn’t reply with words. He hums instead. 
“…Good morning…” It was the first time ever he heard you say such a careful good morning. It broke his heart hearing you be so afraid to handle this situation. 
“…Morning…” Because there was nothing good about it. You were doing what you always do: looking out for him because, no matter what, you were his friend. And like any friend, you knew you were in the wrong, too. So, it was better to savor this moment — this — together than have Gojo take the whole burden.
Despite the good intentions, it only fueled his sorrow. Because he knew he didn’t deserve it. Any kindness spent on him right now would be wasted. What was warranted, however, was what was on the nightstand in front of him.
There stood a picture frame, displaying you smiling ever so happily in the embrace of another – and that would be your late husband, Gojo’s best friend, Suguru Geto, the rightful man to make you smile and hold you so dearly. 
Geto was staring into the camera as it was taken — probably the one who took it himself. What was then a wonderful memory for you to reminisce served as a silent lesson for Gojo. Another chain of guilt to be added to his shoulders, and it was the heaviest of them all. The purple of his eyes branded Gojo as if he was damning the snow-haired man for tarnishing his spouse and home. Like he was in heaven, making sure that his “friend” knew that he was doing his part in requesting a special seat in hell for him. 
And honestly, that was the only thing in that entire morning that felt right to Satoru Gojo.
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by cowbow + dividers by @/cafekitsune & @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.
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spidernuggets · 2 months
Note
Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhjtjfiadhus my brain just said how Jason would react to his S/O kissing down his chest, but specifically kissing down his y incision. He might hate it. It might turn him on. My brain is going feral and I need it—
Somewhere in the middle of your relationship, where Jason was getting comfortable being more open with you, he allowed you to see and touch his scars. Obviously, it took him a long while for himself to accept that these scars are permanently on him, in contrast to you immediately accepting every inch of him the moment he revealed his bare skin to you.
It took a longer while for him to let you lightly graze your fingers along his scars. And when the two of you began to become sexually intimate with each other, he'd guide your hands as to where he's okay with you touching.
You really didn't mean to trigger him when you were straddling his lap with your hands resting along his jaw, initiating a long and slow make-out session with him, who was shirtless, on your couch. Then your hands went down to hold his neck, your lips following suit.
You were just too in the moment when your kisses quickly moved to where his large autopsy scar started.
That's when Jason jolted with a big flinch, his reflexes making his hands move from your waist to your shoulders, pushing you back, harder than he'd meant to.
He stutters a quiet string of apologies, lifting you off his lap and walking to your shared bedroom in a hurry. A pang of guilt slapped you in the face, immediately regretting to contain your neediness.
You wanted to follow him to apologise, but you knew he needed some time alone. So you stayed on the couch, continuously picturing the horrified look on his face. You wanted to cry, but it wasn't about you. It was about Jason. You knew his boundaries, and you crossed them.
A few hours in, you were still on a couch, now with a cup of lukewarm coffee in your hands, patiently waiting for Jason to come out so you can apologise.
So when you heard the creak of the door opening, your posture straightened and put the coffee onto the table in front of you.
You waited for Jason to say something as he sat beside you, now with a long sleeved shirt on.
"I'm sor-" You quickly cut off his apology.
"Don't you dare say that, Jay. It was my fault. I knew where you drew the line and- and I crossed that line. I didn't mean to- I really didn't, I just-"
It was Jason's turn to interrupt you as he gently took hold of your chin, locking your lips with yours.
"I forgive you," he mumbles through the tender kiss.
A month or two later, when you entered the front door after a long day of a morning shift at work, you heard a bang coming from the bedroom in which you quickly ran towards it, only thinking of the worst that could happen with Jason.
When you opened the door, a trashed room was revealed. Clothes dishevelled on the floor, the knick knacks from your windowsill were knocked over, and the full-length mirror was slightly cracked.
Standing in front of the mirror, Jason stood, only in his boxers, his face was red, his nose was runny, and his eyes were bloodshot. But what stood out the most were the red lines over his body, particularly over his scars, to what you assumed were harsh scratch lines, coming from his own fingertips.
You dropped all your things and took one step forward, testing to see if he's let you come into close contact with him, which he usually doesn't. This case, it might've been serious because he whimpers your name, failing an attempt of trying to reach out to you as his hands just fall limp to his sides.
You quickly rush over to him, holding his face in your hands, wiping away his thick, salty tears.
You can hear the barely audible whispers of self insults from him. "I'm hideous." "I'm a monster." "How could you love me?"
You shsuh him by gently pushing your lips to his dry ones. You then ask a "Can I?" In a hush whisper, referring if you can touch his scars.
In hesitancy, he nods a slow yes. You start off easy. With his hands. A long scar that went over his hand, just stopping at the wrist. You gave it a kiss. Followed by the scar next to it. You do the same with his other hand.
Slowly, you finish kissing the scars that cover his arms. You do the same to the ones scattered all over his body. His knees, his thighs, his calves, his spine, his lower back, his shoulders.
You saved the big and most obvious one for last. His autopsy scar. Before your lips came into contact, you started with your fingers. You traced the Y shaped burden, drawing a few imaginary hearts and stars here and there.
The only thing stopping Jason from proposing to yoh right now was the lack of a garnet ring. He absolutely adored you, thinking how an angel like you can even love, let alone touch someone like him.
He then broke down, more tears cascading his face when the first kiss landed on the right side of his chest. But this time, he didn't push you away. When you looked up to see if you could continue, he gave you a slight nod. You gave him a small smile and continued your journey down his torso.
For the first time in an incredibly long while, probably since he first got adopted and became Robin, he felt loved. He felt wanted. And that was all you.
You lifted yourself back up. Jason's tears had dried. You lean your forhead to his. You whisper to him how much you love him. How much he means to you. How much he deserves to be loved.
And from that moment, Jason let you love all of him. He let you look at him, and he let you touch him. And from that moment, little by little, Jason started to love himself too.
It was another while before yoh and Jason initiated more sexual advances. But when you did, it was back on the couch, back to you straddling his lap, back to him shirtless and back to a slow make-out session.
It was back to your lips trailing down his jaw and onto his chest. When your lips touched his autopsy scar, you could've sworn on your mother's grave that you heard a whine out of him.
You looked up and saw his head thrown back, as well as his eyes rolling to the back of his head.
Your suspicions were confirmed when he whimpered a "Please, baby. Please, give me more," in which you happily complied.
Your kissing travelled every inch of the large scar, including smaller ones scattered along his waist, meeting up to the messy, black happy trail that led to his waistband.
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empresskylo · 1 year
Note
Hi!I really like ur story.And I was wandering if u could write about konig or ghost being jealous 🫂
my call of duty masterlist
reader referred to as a girl, called feminine terms, and afab.
Ghost
♡ ghost is an aggressive jealous. especially once you've been together for a while and he gets really attached. its definitely romantic but sometimes can drive you mad.
♡ one time, you and the rest of 141 were out at a bar, taking a load off after an intense mission. you went off to the bar to grab drinks for everyone and of course, ghost kept his eyes locked on you the entire time. as you stood there waiting, you rocked back and forth on your feet. a somewhat attractive man approached you and started up a polite conversation. the man didn't even have any ill intentions, he simply saw a pretty girl at a bar and decided to try and flirt... it's literally the whole point of bars. ghost watched with clenched fists, ready to storm over there and drag you back to their table, but soap convinced him to calm down. you were allowed to talk to other people. he hated the way you were laughing at whatever the prick was saying to you. you must have said something hilarious because the man laughed, reaching out and placing his hand on your shoulder. you immediately felt your gut sink, knowing what was about to happen. "might want to remove your hand before i decide to break your wrist." it was ghost, looming behind you. the man quickly retracted his hand, holding it up in defense. you turned to face the giant brute, "simon, he was just being nice," you whispered to him. "s'not nice to touch ladies without their consent," he growled, his eyes still locked on the poor man behind you who should have ran out the door by now if he had any brains. your eyes darted sidelong to soap, silently pleading for his help. within seconds, johnny was grabbing the man behind you and edging him out of the bar, telling him it was for his own good. you blocked simon's way, grabbing his sleeve and pulling, making him look down at you finally. "please, simon," you said breathlessly. "can we not ruin this night?" his face softened, his big hand coming up to caress your cheek, his thumb stroking you. "m'sorry," he said before placing a kiss on the top of your head. safe to say, he was glued to your side the rest of the night.
♡ ghost had gotten jealous of your relationship with the other members of 141, though this was more towards the beginning of your relationship, when he still didn't trust the guys with you--but now, of course, he trusts them with your life.
♡ ghost wasn't keen on the nicknames the guys would call you. but sometimes, he didn't really have much of a choice. when price would call you "doll", he would just silently glare at him. soap liked to call you "lass," and while that wasn't anything out of pocket, it still infuriated ghost. gaz sometimes called you "love," which drove ghost mad. you had to remind him that these were just terms of endearment because the guys cared about you, not because they were interested in you. he still didn't like it. and even months later, when he learned to trust them with you, he would still clench his jaw and fist whenever someone referred to you by anything but your name.
♡ he would even get jealous before you were together. one time he had overheard johnny inviting you out. he was in fact inviting you out to join him and the rest of the crew (including ghost), but ghost didn't hear that part. later that day, he slammed johnny against a wall, his forearm crushing him with such force even soap was surprised. "words, ghost. use your words," soap choked out, trying to shove the taller man off of him. "the hell you think you're doin?" he reluctantly released him from his hold. "what the bloody fuck are you talkin' about?" "invitin' her out?" he managed through gritted teeth. soap couldn't help the smirk that played along his lips. "whats it to ya?" ghost moved to step closer to him, his fists clenched. soap raised a hand in defeat. "bloody hell, mate. i was invitin' the lass to come out with all of us." ghost awkwardly shifted his stance, making soap crack a grin. a plethora of snarky comments rose in soaps throat, but ghost stopped them before they could come into reality. "not a fuckin' word about this, johnny, or I swear to god."
𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐖
♡ ghost was occasionally known to fuck the jealousy out of his system. (im sorry, but this idea is just so hot to me…)
♡ simon was not happy when he found out you had a "work husband." and i feel like thats a pretty fair thing to get upset over. “No, no, simon! He’s married! It just means we bicker and act like an old married couple at work. It has nothing to do with actually liking each other,” you pleaded. That didn’t really help your case. Like at all. It was a silent car ride all the way home. And once you got inside, simon had you pinned against the door, your hands trapped beneath his over your head. You let out a sharp gasp. “Ever imagine him while you’re fucking me?” his voice was low and scary, his lips coming down to tease your neck. You knew he was just trying to get himself worked up. “No! God, no, Simon. I would never–” he rolled his hips against you, cutting your sentence short. He nipped the skin along your neck making you hiss. He dragged you to the bedroom, tearing your clothes off, not being gentle at all. He didn’t have the patience to be. “Bet he wonders what color underwear you got on,” he mumbled more to himself than you. His fingers hooked along the band of your panties, teasing you. “Too bad for him, he’ll never know.” you gasped when simon abruptly shoved two fingers inside of you with no warning. He smirked. “And he’ll never know what kind of sounds you make.” he climbed up between your legs, intensely watching your face as his fingers pumped inside of you. “Only i get that honor, don’t i, pet?” You’d be lying if you said this side of simon didn’t turn you on. Your mind was already blanking as you panted, simon’s magical fingers working wonders. He stopped moving. “Dont i?” he asked again with more aggression this time. “Yes. only you!” you whined, bucking your hips up into his hand. Normally simon would chuckle, admiring how desperate you were for him. But right now, all he felt was jealous rage. Simon settled himself above you, his pants shedded. He peeled your panties off, licking his lips as he did. “Gonna fuck you so good so that prick never crosses your mind.” “He already doesn’t cross my mind, sim–oh fuck!” simon thrusted inside you, cutting off your rambling. He wasn’t gentle as he began to rock against you. “Say my name, love,” he demanded. “Oh god, Simon,” you babbled, already cockdrunk. “That’s right, baby. I own this pussy, don’t i?” You nodded your head hurriedly, your nails digging into his back. As much as simon’s jealousy drove you crazy, you fucking loved moments like this. Simon pounded into you, relentless as he claimed you, coming inside you just to prove to himself how you were his. And only his. 
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König
♡ konig my sweet gentle giant. I do think he’s a bit insecure so when he gets jealous it more so makes him sad rather than mad. (i hate to paint him like a helpless, sappy baby, but i cant help it im so sorry.)
♡ “konig, what’s wrong?” you’d ask him, seeing him act more reserved than usual. You stood between his legs as he sat on a barstool. He was always shy in public, especially when you all went out to the bar, but he was acting it more so than usual. “nothin’ , liebling.” he takes a strand of your hair and twirls it in his fingers. “Konig,” you plead, clearly seeing something is bothering him. His eyes drift, unable to look at you when he speaks. “Jus’ didn’t like seein’ you talk to that guy at the bar.” Your face would heat up, upset that you might have hurt him, but also warming at the idea of konig being jealous. You rested your hands on the tops of his thighs, pushing yourself up so you were inline with his lips. “He’s not my type.” “Yeah?” “Yeah. he’s no where near tall enough.” konig’s ears pinked. “And he doesn’t call me liebling in that god damn accent.” you’ve managed to turn konig into a blushing mess. Even if you’ve been together for awhile, whenever you compliment him, he gets all bashful.
♡ he’ll do simple things when he’s jealous. Like if he starts to get annoyed that some guy is acting a little too touchy or comfortable around you, he’ll come up behind you and wrap his arms around your chest. He would literally engulf you. Just that simple action would send any smart man running as he loomed over you and stared them down.
♡ he is also not one to be into PDA, however, that is not the case when he’s jealous. Especially at base, with so many deprived men around, he tends to get overly protective of you. Whenever he spots you talking to someone that’s not him, he’ll come up to you, give you a kiss even if you’re in the middle of talking, and walk away. You always get flustered when he does that, but it gets the message across that you’re his. No one would dare mess with something that belonged to konig.
♡ there is a man on the team that takes interest in you, likely not knowing that you and konig are together. He begins to help you train. Eats lunch with you. Saves you a seat at meetings. And you think he’s just being friendly. You’re actually happy you made a friend. So it throws you off when konig confronts you about it. “I don’t like you spending so much time with that guy.” “What? Why?” you turn in his embrace to face him. “He’s clearly into you, liebling.” “Huh? No he’s not! We’re just friends.” you say, your mind going over your every interaction now that konig brought this up. “You’re naive if you think he just wants to be your friend.” he says it in such a soft way that you’re not even upset at him calling you naive. He’s clearly just concerned. You shake your head, not wanting to believe what konig is saying. “Have you even told him about me?” “Yes! I’ve definitely brought you up.” “But did you mention we were together?” You bit the inside of your cheek. “No… I guess I never specified.” you realized that konig was probably right. You had no idea you were leading this guy on because you genieuly thought he was just being friendly. “Oh, shit. Konig. I’m so sorry,” you said clearly upset now. Konig cupped the back of your head and pulled you into his chest, placing a kiss on the top of your head. You felt a chuckle rumble through his chest. “Don’t apolgize. You haven’t done anything wrong.” “I’ll make sure he knows i’m with you next time i see him,” you mumbled into his shirt. Konig spotted the man walk into the room you and konig were currently huddling in. perfect timing. “or…” he said, making you tilt your head to look up at him, arching a brow. The man looked over and spotted the two of you, so Konig bent down, lifting his mask so only you could see, and kissed you. It was more than a peck. He pulled you into him, his hands wandering down to your waist. When you pulled away breathless, konig smirked. “I think he got the message.”
♡ he often got jealous when others would gawk at you when you weren’t looking. There had been plenty of times where you were working out and konig watched as other man checked you out. He could feel his fists clench, trying to prevent himself from getting upset. It wasn’t your fault. And he wasn’t about to make you cover up just because men liked to be creepy.
♡ it isn’t until after one workout that you see konig huffing on the bench. “Bad workout?” you asked him, sitting across his thigh. His hands immediately went to your waist. “Jus’ sick of those guys oogling over you,” he muttered. You looked over to see the group of men konig was talking about. You were sporting a tight sports bra and tight spandex shorts, showing more than you usually would. “Let em’ look,” you replied. Konig looked at you, his frown deepening. “They can see me like this all they want. But only you can see me naked,” you whispered in his ear. Konig’s hands tightened on your waist, his pupils dilating as he stared at you. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, liebling.” his voice was darker now. Not with jealousy, but with lust. “Oh, I don’t plan on it,” you said, reaching down and palming him through his shorts. Konig immediately shot up, making you land on your feet, but his hands still firmly gripping you. “Your room. Now,” he demanded. He always got nervous when you spoke to him like that in public. But this was the first time you touched him in public. And konig was throbbing in his shorts, wanting you so desperately he already forgot about the other men.
𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐖
♡ after a night out with the gang, partying and drinking, you and konig found yourselves back at your hotel room. You had no idea he had been jealous all night long until he scooped you up as you entered your hotel room and tossed you on the bed. He had to watch as you danced and let loose, enjoying yourself, while the men around you watched you just as intently as konig was. Every time you bent over, he had to stop himself from punching every man in your vicinity. “Konig,” you said breathlessly. He loomed over you, grabbing the hem of your dress and pushing it up your thighs until it bunched around your waist. “You’re mine,” he growled. You were slightly shocked at his sudden change in demeanor, not as used to this side of konig, but not hating it either. You nodded your head as konig pulled your panties down. You were already so wet for him. It made him smile. He quickly connected his mouth to your throbbing core, his tongue devouring you. Your hands slid into his hair on reflex, your head falling back, silently mouthing his name. “I want everyone in the fucking hotel to hear you scream my name,” he grunted against you. Your eyes widened, looking down at the man buried between your thighs. His hands gripped your ass and pulled you closer to him, making you yelp. “Every. Single. Person.” You quickly nodded, calling his name out as he began sucking on your clit. His tongue teased your entrance, his cock throbbing as he listened to your pants. “Mine,” he said against your cunt, making you moan. “All fucking mine.”
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crxss01 · 10 months
Note
hii! can i request where e42 miles and reader
break up and the reader finds someone new, and miles gets jealous, and so on.
— Dark Paradise
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pairing ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ 42! miles morales x reader
summary ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊ miles breaks up with you to keep you safe from his prowler business. he expected that you would move on eventually, but that didn’t mean that he had to be okay with that.
warnings ✧˖ ° angst, hurt/comfort, possessivenesses, threatening, miles is a lil toxic, cheating (not on reader and don’t do this to people), breaking up then getting back together, a little suggestive in the end.
m. list, main m. list.
translations ✧࿓☾ bonito: handsome/pretty boy, carajo: shit, (mi) princesa: (my) princess.
a/n . . ◟੭ hey, sweet anon! i love seeing miles following after the reader like a puppy, i hope you enjoy that as well!
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"you can't do this to me!" you exclaimed. "to us!"
his face was stone cold and just like the first time you two met, you couldn't read his eyes at all so you didn't know if he really wanted this or if he was doing it for some other selfish reason.
where did it all went wrong? you two were happy together then suddenly he was distant and cold towards you, pushing you away little by little until you finally noticed and confronted him about it and there you were now. him admitting to having loss feelings for you and breaking your heart with two words 'break up'.
"listen, it was all good, i won't lie. but things change, feelings change and i don't want you anymore." miles shrugged.
"this is just so easy for you, isn't it?" you snarled at him, then pointed to the door of your bedroom. "get out." you had refused to shed even a single tear in front of him.
"i don't want to end things on bad terms, ma." miles put his hands up.
"should've thought about it before you said you 'didn't want me anymore' as if i'm some object." you snapped at him. "now, get out of my house."
you started pushing him towards the door of your bedroom and when you pushed him out, you slammed the door shut behind him, locking it in the process. you leaned back against it and slid down, your hands coming up to your face, tears furiously falling down like a waterfall from your eyes, and sobs coming out of your throat one after another.
you sighed at the memory, your emotions had been uncontrollable and you never wanted to go through that again. that hurt like nothing else had hurt you in this world and you hated miles for being the cause of it.
now marked two months of your break up and last week you decided to give relationships a try again, but not before making sure that this guy you were going out with wasn't a stone hearted dumbass criminal that would leave you as if you were simple trash.
"how about this one?" your boyfriend, lucas, asked.
"yeah." you nodded pretending to like the plushie he was choosing to take out of the machine for you, he was so nice and it left a pain in your chest that you didn't feel anything for him.
sure, you liked him but it was a platonic feeling. you tried hard the past few days to at least feel a little spark with him but it was all in vain.
"you don't like it, do you?" he gave a shy smile, scratching his ear. something you noticed that he did when he was nervous or embarrassed. "it's okay, choose one and i'll take it out."
you tried to give him a comforting smile, but it came out awkward. "i like that one." you pointed at the one you liked the most.
lucas nodded and put the amount of money needed in the machine and started guiding the control towards the plushie you chose.
"come on, bonito, you can do it!" you encouraged him, accidentally calling him by the pet name you used to call miles. even though it was an accident you made no attempt to correct it and instead dismissed the thought of miles (or at least tried to).
"carajo!" lucas exclaimed when the plushie fell back down after picking up with the metal grabber.
"move, man." lucas got pushed away from the machine. "let me show you how to do this properly."
"you can't be serious." you deadpanned at miles. "what are you doing here, miles?"
"it's an arcade, mami." miles said innocently. "anyone can come here."
you rolled your eyes, but he was right.
lucas frowned at miles, "if you wanted to use it, you could've just asked. no need to be fucking aggressive."
miles ignored him for a moment, putting money inside the machine, controlling the metal grabber thing and grabbing the exact plushie you had picked out and successfully pulling it out of the machine, bending down to take it out and giving it to you.
"here, princess." he said, but when you didn't take it he just grabbed your arm and put it around the plushie. "remember that you only have one bonito in your life." he told you, eyes going hard a little bit but they turned to complete stone when he looked at lucas. "and you, watch your tone."
"who the fuck do you think you are?" lucas asked, angrily.
"her one and only." miles shrugged and walked away.
his corny ass.
"don't listen to him," you told lucas and started making your way to the nearest trash can, pulling him along and throwing the plushie inside. "let's go somewhere else."
you and lucas had been dating for three weeks now and outdoor dates were impossible for both of you because miles kept showing up everywhere you two went, always finding a way to put some type of claim over you in front of lucas and you could tell that the boy was getting tired of miles since once his sweet soul even tried to talk things out without using violence but it ended with miles punching him and a fight breaking out between the two that miles, obviously, won.
now, you and lucas were hanging outside school waiting for your group of friends to come out so you could all go to the park together.
"we could skate." you suggested when lucas asked for ideas of what to do for your next date.
"that sounds dangerous."
miles would've agreed about skating together, you and him enjoyed doing that a lot. he taught you how to do it and it bought back fond memories.
"what about playing board games?"
"that's boring to do with a girlfriend."
miles enjoyed beating you every single time so he would have agreed to play that with you in a heartbeat.
"oh! how about painting?"
"i don't know how to paint."
miles was an artist, he did graffiti and sketched (sometimes). he had taught you how to draw many things and would've said yes to that idea just to feel the intimacy of teaching you more stuff.
"then come up with something on your own." you rolled your eyes.
"come on, sweetheart." lucas laughed. "are you really going to get mad at me for that?"
"of course, she will." miles suddenly appeared again. "you're boring as fuck, man. which is why she would never be yours."
"miles, don't start." you said, already tired of his ass. but deep inside you even if you didn't want to acknowledge it, you always looked forward to the moment that he would show up.
"hola, princesa." miles smirked, looking at you up and down. "you look good."
he said that even though you were wearing the uniform but it made you feel warm inside.
"can you leave my girlfriend alone?"
"can you stop calling her yours?" miles raised an eyebrow. "she is not yours and would never be. she already belongs to me."
"i belong to none of you, i'm my own person." you said, why the fuck were they talking like you weren't there? like you were some object?
miles chuckled, a deep one that had his head throwing back and he looked at you, a dark glint in his eyes. "you and i both know that is not true." then he leaned in to you, but lucas pushed him away. "see you later, princesa. mi princesa." he added the last bit with a smirk.
"and you're lucky i'm in a hurry, or i would've knocked your ass down." he told lucas then winked your way before finally leaving.
as you laid on your bed, you couldn't help but think about everything that has happened this past few weeks that had to do with miles.
at first after your break up he ignored you completely and it wasn't like you wanted to talk to him, but if he wanted to be on good terms he could have at least spoken to you and apologized yet he didn't.
then the moment you started dating again, he suddenly reappears in your life. acting as if you were an object that he had absolute possession of, and it made you so mad that the only way to get his attention was to be with someone else.
"you dumb bitch." you cursed, slapping your hand against your face. "this whole time..."
this whole time you were just trying to get miles' attention or trying to replace him with lucas, you weren't trying to 'give relationships a try again' it was all bullshit.
you have been comparing every single thing that lucas did to miles, every single decision that lucas had made would make you think of what miles would do in his place. it was like you were wishing that lucas would turn into miles this entire time.
"i have to see him..." you whispered. "now."
you stood up, not even bothering to change out of your pijamas and ran out of your house and into the dangerous night. miles lived two blocks away and you hoped that he wasn't doing some prowler business since it was at this time in which he would normally work.
when you got there, you grabbed the key hiding in the plant pot and opened the door. you left all regrets behind you and stepped in, there was no movement in the kitchen area and the living room so ms. morales was probably doing a night shift.
"miles?" you called out, then made your way to his room. "miles." you stood outside the door of his room and sighed before knocking.
“hey, princesa.”
you jumped and turned around. miles was standing right behind you, head cocked to the side looking at you up and down.
“gosh, you scared me.” you put a hand on your chest.
“you’re the one in my house.” miles said.
you realized that he was wearing his prowler suit so he must have just came back from some mission.
“i want you to tell me what do you want with me?” you went straight to the point.
“i want everything with you. get marry, have kids, die together and all of that corny ass shit.” miles sighed.
“then why did you break up with me?” you asked, hurt clear in your voice.
“i was threaten by someone, this person was way too dangerous and they found out about you and i just couldn’t let you be hurt, i mean you’re everything to me.” miles confessed. “but now, they aren’t a problem anymore. it took time but my uncle and i took care of it.”
“so this person only happened to know about me? what about your mom?” you raised a suspicious eyebrow.
“thankfully, they didn’t know about my mom but the only reason they found out about you was because i made the mistake of going to your house right after a mission.” he explained.
you nodded, not knowing if you should believe him but it didn’t matter. nothing mattered anymore because you wanted miles and his name and face was the only thing in your mind.
“i want you to end things with that little hispanic boy.” miles said after a while of silence.
“you’re hispanic too.” you said with a little smirk.
“i know, that’s why you got with him.” miles grabbed your waist and pulled you in for a kiss which you reciprocated.
your arms came around his neck while one of his came around your waist and the other hand grabbed a handful of your ass making you let out a gasp into the kiss. “mine.” he murmured. “all mine.”
“all yours.” you agreed before connecting your lips with his again.
his lips tasted sweet and you weren’t surprised because they always had that taste on them, making you want more of it and you couldn’t get enough. you needed him to keep kissing you all night long, in the morning, the afternoon and during the night again. you wanted his kisses to last forever.
“who’s the only bonito in your life, princesa?” he asked as he kissed down your neck, biting softly here and there.
you didn’t answer, too lost in the feeling of his lips and the pleasure that they were bringing you which caused miles to let go of your ass so that he could wrap his hand around the back of your neck and pull your face to look at him.
“answer me.” it sounded like an order and knowing miles you had no doubt it was.
“you are.” you told him, a little breathless. “i love you, bonito.”
“and i love you, mi princesa.” miles smiled and opened the door to his room, pulling you inside.
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ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ reblogs are really appreciated!
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bluebeary-jay · 11 months
Text
If I could hold you for a minute
Javier Peña x f!Reader
Summary: Javier wants nothing more than to go home to you. And thanks to his partner's generosity, he gets to.
Tags: just pure FLUFF, mayyybe a sprinkle of suggestive humor, established relationship, Steve teases Javi a bunch, Javier is a BIG SIMP (i'm serious)
Warnings: none ♡
Word count: 3.3K
A/N: something different for you guys 🙈 i'm sadly still on semi-hiatus because of my finals, but I managed to finish this little fic as a break from my angsty Joel pieces. i reaaaally hope you all will like it 😌💕 also, it's dedicated to my dumbass in crime @lily-inbloom 🫡😘 luv you babes
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This was one of the worst days agent Peña had in a long time, and he wanted nothing more than to go home.
First, two people from Escobar’s inner circle managed to escape the raid on the laboratory in which he and Murphy participated, leaving both of them exhausted and frustrated. Then Melissa gave Javier a bunch of shit because of some documents, and on the way to his desk some asshole bumped into him, making him drop and break his phone. And now they had to stay after hours to wait for Carrillo.
“It’s for you, Peña.”
So yeah. His day was shit so far.
His pity party was cut short when Steve sitting across from him hissed his name again. Javier shot him an irritated look and flipped him off, not in the mood to talk to any informants or their superiors.
“Not now, Murphy,” he grumbled, but his partner still handed him the stationary telephone from their desk, ignoring the hostility radiating from the man.
“Just take it, asshole. She’s worried you’re not answering her calls.”
At that, Javi sat up straight and in a split second took the handset from Steve, pressing it to his ear.
“¿Querida?” he asked quietly, paying no attention to Murphy rolling his eyes and chuckling to himself. There was a sigh of relief on the other end of the line and he furrowed his eyebrows in concern. “Is everything alright?”
“Hi, Javi,” your voice came through the receiver. “You weren’t picking up.”
Almost instantly the tension was lifted from Javier’s shoulders and he exhaled deeply. You had a talent of putting him at ease, even when you weren’t by his side.
“Lo siento, cariño. Some idiot broke my… you know what, it doesn’t matter. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, just wanted to ask when you finish work? I can swing by and we can go grab some food on the way home.”
He sighed tiredly, rubbing his brows. He hated saying no to you and if he could, Javi would give you the world on a silver platter – but some things, he didn’t have any control over.
“No sé, cariño. We have a shitton of papers to read with Steve, and we’re waiting for Carrillo to fill us in on the latest action. I’ve got no idea how long it’s gonna take, sweetheart.”
Steve lifted his head and shot Javier a teasing look, but Peña ignored him, turning his chair to the side.
“Alright, so what do you say I’ll bring you some takeout? You can also ask Steve what he’d want, I’ll be at this place we went to a week ago–”
“No, querida, no,” he sighed, this time with affection. Your voice was a temptation enough to throw everything to hell and run home to you, but to hear the kindness and love in your words, without even seeing your expression… It was heart-clenching. “We don’t need anything, you just go back home safely. I’ll try to get away from here as soon as I can.”
You didn’t answer at first, but then hummed half-heartedly.
“If you say so. But please, eat something.”
Javi smiled absentmindedly, covering his eyes with his fingers. He imagined your concerned expression, the receiver nestled next to your ear, near the spot he so liked to nuzzle with his nose. “How do you know I haven’t already?”
He could hear a trace of a smirk in your voice.
“I know you, Peña.”
“Too well, I think.”
“You love it, though.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, maybe.” He heard you yawn and the smile disappeared from his face. “You’re tired.”
“No, I’m not. I’ll get to bed when you’re back.”
“I won’t be home for at least a couple more hours, sweetheart,” Javi told you softly. “You can go to sleep.”
“I’ll wait for you,” you repeated stubbornly.
“You don’t have to.”
“I know, cariño.” There was that sweet, teasing note in your tone, and a grin spread across Javier’s face again. “But that will just give you more reasons to come home quickly.”
“I’ll try,” he just offered in a whisper, resting his forehead on his fist. “Call Steve if anything happens, alright?”
“Okay, okay, I will.” Long since gone were the times you’d argue with him about that. You knew how terrified he was at the thought of losing you. “I love you, baby.”
“También te amo.”
He didn’t immediately hang up, waiting just in case you wanted to add something else. The line went dead, however, and with his lips pressed Javi put the phone back in the center of the desk.
“You have it bad, Peña.”
Of course. Javier should’ve known Steve will start to nag at him again.
He reached into his pocket for a cigarette and put it between his lips. He knew you’d complain about the smell on his hair and clothes when he got home, but he was already too stressed out and in a desperate need of a smoke.
“I’m not in the mood, Murphy,” he muttered, pulling out the lighter.
“I thought a conversation with your sweetheart would brighten up your day?”
Javier looked up and just as he suspected, Steve had that same stupid grin on his face, like every time the topic was brought up.
Ever since your and Javi’s relationship became more serious, Steve was taking every opportunity to tease his partner. If Javi was feeling generous, he could kind of understand where his friend is coming from – after all, he himself didn’t think he’d ever act like a dumb teenage boy in the presence of a woman. But something about you mesmerized him from the very beginning, and, miraculously, here you both were, in a steady and loving relationship Javier Peña was always afraid of hoping for.
But alas, it was not a day to be understanding. He glared at Steve when the fellow agent didn’t take a hint.
“Shut up.”
“I wouldn’t say no to a food delivery, you know,” Steve spoke up with a smirk under his mustache. “I’m quite hungry.”
“I’ll sooner hire Escobar to make you sandwiches than let her do it.”
“You wound me, Javi. And to think I was about to take care of Carrillo and let you go home early.”
Javier looked up in surprise at his friend’s knowing smile. Then he blinked, slowly and tiredly, wondering if he didn’t misheard.
“Really?” he asked suspiciously, to which Steve shrugged.
“Why not? I’m in no rush since Connie and Olivia are in Miami, and as funny as it is to watch you yearn and pine, your brooding gets annoying after a while.” Javi didn’t move from his place, so Steve nodded in the direction of the exit. “Just go home to her, Peña. Before I change my mind.”
The face of the agent broke into a smile before he could collect himself. He stood up so quickly that he bumped his hip against the desk, but it didn’t phase him one bit. With a quick shove across the desktop, he swept all the documents to the folder and took his gun from the drawer, tucking it into his jeans.
Murphy was watching him with a smirk.
“You owe me, Javi.”
“Sure,” his partner replied over his shoulder, grabbing his jacket. “I’ll get you a sandwich tomorrow.”
A quiet laugh followed him when Peña promptly ran out of their office.
*****
After the call with Javi you tried to find yourself an occupation, intending to stay up as long as you could. He was working like crazy lately, sometimes not even coming home for the night, so a chance to finally spend some time with him – even if it would only be for half an hour – was something you didn’t want to miss.
So you wandered around his apartment. You read a little, watched TV, tidied up the cutlery drawer, folded Javi’s shirts, and now you got onto washing the dishes left from your dinner two days ago.
You were humming quietly, that stupid song which seemed to play on every radio as of late, when you heard a small sound from the hall. You paused and turned off the tap, your heart pounding in your chest, and sure enough there was it again – but this time you clearly recognized it as a key turning in the lock.
Before you could think of what to do, the door opened and Javi came in, locking eyes with you immediately. You blinked slowly, rooted to the spot with your hands lifted, still covered in water and soapsuds.
“Javi?” you asked in surprise. “What are you doin–”
Without saying a word, Javier came up to you in two long strides and put his hands around your waist, dipping you back and kissing you deeply. You made a noise in your throat, moving your wet hands aside, but then sighed contentedly as his lips caressed yours.
“I missed you, cariño. So much,” Javier murmured, not moving further away from your lips than two millimeters apart. “Couldn’t wait to get home to you.”
“But what about– Steve, and…” you tried to ask during those brief moments when he gave you a second to take a breath, but was unable (and unwilling) to move away when he was holding you so tightly.
“They’ll be fine,” Javier murmured, moving his hands to your cheeks to cradle them tenderly. “Steve said he’ll handle it.”
He firmly pressed his lips to yours one more time, his eyebrows scrunched with affection. You didn’t ask anything else, instead wrapping your arms around his neck, still careful not to get his clothes wet. After almost a minute of tender kisses and whispered Spanish phrases, Javi rested his forehead against yours with a content sigh. His eyes were closed and he just hummed when you nudged his nose with yours.
“You weren’t supposed to be home for the next few hours,” you said quietly.
“It was a damn torture. I couldn’t wait, hermosa,” he murmured and exhaled heavily. “God, I needed this.”
A bright smile spread across your face at the thought of this man thinking about and longing to see you so much. He sounded so stressed out and tired over the phone, but now it was like all nerves left him for just a moment.
“Do you want me to make you something to eat?” you asked in a whisper, but Javi shook his head.
“No. Just stay here.”
“I have to rinse the dishwashing liquid off my hands, though. And you need to take a shower.”
“Are you saying I smell?”
“A little. But I mostly mean the cigarette smoke on your hair.”
Javi sighed, murmuring something under his breath. You gave him a peck on the lips. “Go on, cariño. I’ll get everything ready and then we can lay down.”
Javier grumbled, displeased, but didn’t argue any further. “You’ll have to make it up to me, sweetheart.”
“If you manage to keep your eyes open.” Your comment made him crack a smile and you mirrored it. “Go shower. And then come back to me.”
Javi sighed but obediently went towards the bathroom, putting down his aviators and the gun on the table on the way there. You watched him fondly, your heart still swelling with love at how relieved he looked to see you. He must’ve felt your attention on him, somehow, because he turned around in the doorway and sent you a smirk.
“If you like the view so much, you can hop into the shower with me,” he teased, and you hummed, pretending to consider it.
“I would, but then it wouldn’t be a ‘quick shower’.” He smiled knowingly, and you scrunched your nose at him. “Javi, the longer you stand here, the less time we’ll have for cuddles.”
“You raise a good point, hermosa.”
With one last look he disappeared in the bathroom and you shook your head at his antics. A few seconds later you heard the sound of rushing water, so you hurried to your shared bedroom to get everything ready.
You pulled down the blinds and flipped the pillows to the colder side, and then swiftly changed into one of Javier’s shirts you liked to sleep in. You also took his gun from the table, knowing he preferred to have it within reach when he was resting with you.
Earlier that day you started to clean the cupboards, so the room was pretty messy. You spent a couple of minutes putting the piles of clothes and various knick knacks in their places, trying to be as quick as possible. Then you heard the water in the bathroom stopping, and it only took Javi two more minutes before he emerged from the bathroom in nothing but his boxers.
His hair was wet and chest bare, and exhaustion was marking his handsome features, painting shadows over his face. Without a second of hesitation Javi went up to you and wrapped his arms around your middle. You wanted to say that you’ll be done in a moment, but didn’t get a chance – he hid his face in the crook of your neck, grumbling tiredly, and started dragging you backwards to the bed. You swat at him with laughter, but those strong arms of his just held onto you tighter.
“Cariño, I still have to finish–”
“Leave it. You don’t have to do anything.”
“Javi…”
“Come lay with me, mi sol.” He softly pressed his lips to the sensitive skin on your neck, making you shiver. You felt him smirking. “Come on. Please.”
You faltered at this word, so rarely used by him. He sighed into your shoulder and swayed you two gently from side to side.
Javi was right. Everything else could wait.
You lifted his hand to your lips and kissed his knuckles gently, feeling him relax behind your back.
“Alright,” you murmured. “Come here, baby.”
He hummed and kissed your neck again, then your shoulder, sneaking his hands under your – technically his – shirt.
“Have I ever told you how pretty you look in my clothes?” he asked quietly.
“Every time I wear it.” You felt him take a breath, but you beat him to it. “And don’t say they’d look even better on the floor.”
Javi chuckled and hugged you tighter, still slowly moving backwards with you. “Not this time. Just wanna have you in my arms.”
“You mean in your bed?” You couldn’t help but tease him, and yelped when he bit your neck lightly.
“Don’t tempt me.”
When you two reached the bed, Javi stopped and slowly turned you around before sitting down. You took his face in your hands, staring down at him lovingly, while he gently ran his palms up and down your thighs. He did look tired, with the exhaustion and sadness swimming in his beautiful dark eyes. After a moment he exhaled shakily and leaned forward, resting his forehead on your stomach.
“Wanna lie down?” you whispered softly, and he nodded without a word. “Okay. Come here.”
You gently released yourself from his hold and laid down, immediately reaching for Javier and tugging him to lay on top of you.
The moment his head touched your chest, Javi exhaled heavily with relief, closing his eyes. You ran your fingers through his hair, brushing the wet strands aside.
“Do you need anything?” you asked quietly, but he just muttered 'no' with a light shake of his head.
“I’ve got everything I need right here, querida.”
You grinned warmly, though he couldn’t see it. “You’re quite a romantic, Javier Peña.”
He chuckled under his breath, lifting himself slightly to meet your adoring gaze. “I thought you already knew all about it.”
“Did I?” you asked playfully, to which he lifted his head.
“What more can I tell you?” he murmured, leaning over you and smirking when your breath hitched in your throat. His brown irises danced across your face, drinking your features in. “Do you wanna hear how all I think about while working are your lips and the sound of your laugh? How the time spent together isn’t nearly enough for me to fully revel in you? Or…”
“Okay, that’s enough,” you said sheepishly, making Javi grin victoriously. “You’re probably spending that time in the office not thinking about me but of ways to mess with me.”
“Tal vez, mi sol.” He pressed his lips to the corner of your mouth and moved lower, whispering into your skin. “But I do wish I could spend more time with you.”
“I know, cariño.” You brushed his hair to the back with your fingers, scratching his occiput. “But it’s not your fault.”
He hummed without conviction, still busy kissing every inch of your skin he could reach. One of his hands went to your waist, his thumb tracing small circles there, while the other climbed up to your hand, entwining your fingers together.
“Didn’t you want to get some rest?” you asked breathlessly, trying to keep your composure. Your face was hot, and Javi hummed smugly at the pitch of your voice. He lifted his head and brushed your cheek with his knuckles, his hand still holding yours.
“I wanted to spend time con mi hermoso sol.” He touched his forehead to yours lovingly, gazing deeply into your eyes. “I was serious when I said you’re all I need.”
“I think you need some sleep, too.”
Javi grumbled, seemingly giving in, and kissed you sleepily one last time. His eyes were already closing and his mustache scratched your skin lightly.
“No, querida. Just you.”
*****
The next morning, Steve came to work to the sight of Javier trapping you with his arms against his desk. He was leaving soft pecks on your lips every once in a while – so unlike the Peña Murphy had known before – murmuring something to you with a smile, causing you to giggle, too. You tried to slip out of his grasp, but Javier just pulled you closer. The pair was obviously lost in the moment because neither of them noticed Steve, until he threw a pile of files onto his desk.
“Morning, guys,” he said nonchalantly, eyeing your bashful beam and Javi’s crooked smile with a smirk. He noted that his partner looked way better than yesterday. “D’you get any sleep?”
“Actually, I did.” Javier gazed over at you and squeezed your hand with this look of a lovesick puppy that Steve mocked so often. “Don’t remember the last time I’ve slept so well.”
“Happy to hear it, because we have a lot to do today.” He sat down and began organizing the notes from Carrillo’s report yesterday, wanting to fill his partner in as soon as possible. He heard Peña sigh.
“Of course.” He glanced up to see the other man stand up and kiss you lovingly – once, twice – before you lightly shoved him back onto the armchair. Steve rolled his eyes when Javi brought your hand to his lips, leaving one last lingering kiss, and then finally letting go of you.
“I’m gonna be late because of you,” you accused him, but he only smirked.
“Lo siento, cariño. Have a good day.”
You said your goodbyes to Steve and turned back to the exit. Murphy shook his head and met his partner’s dark eyes, sparkling with adoration.
“You really have it bad, Peña.”
He didn’t receive any answer, so he just smiled to himself and got back to arranging his desk.
He didn’t get a second of peace, however, because suddenly a paper bag was dropped on the documents he was just filing. Two – a bit squashed – sandwiches were peeking out from the brown paper.
Steve lifted his head, ready to throw another teasing comment, but Javier’s eyes – still full of that raw love – were focused solely on your figure leaving their office.
*****
querida - dear/darling
lo siento, cariño - I’m sorry, darling/honey
no sé - I don’t know
también te amo - I love you, too
hermosa - beautiful
mi sol - my sun/sunshine
tal vez - maybe
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lovelytsunoda · 8 months
Text
glad I crashed the wedding // oscar piastri
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summary: she needed a wedding date. he wanted a reason to spend time with her. but of course, the inn only has one bed, and oscar makes her feel alive in a way she's never felt before.
pairing: oscar piastri x female! reader
warnings: sexual tension, one bed trope, difficult sister relationship (though they love each other very very much), eventual smut, fake dating (I’ve been reading too much Ana Huang lately)
“so let me get this straight,” she began, swirling the coconut-mango-pineapple icy drink in her hand, leaning back against the photocopier. “you, the great oscar piastri, wants to come home with me to be my date for my sisters wedding, and you don’t want anything in return?”
oscar nodded, a wide grin on his face as the copy machine continued to churn out waivers for the hot lap guests to sign. “that’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“but why?”
oscar shrugged, trying to come up with a convincing lie. “because I’m your friend. and this is what friends do.”
y/n sighed, sipping her drink before turning away from the driver. keeping eye contact was dangerous when it was with oscar piastri. when it was with the man who set her nerve endings on fire, who made her stomach churn like the rising tide with a gesture as small as a wave, or an offer to buy her a drink.
who had an accent that made her core throb, soaking her panties right through when she thought about how his voice would sound in her ear if he was whispering some less-than-holy things to her.
“I don’t want to subject you to the insanity. you might not want to be friends after you meet my family. we can’t even be in the same room sometimes, it’s like dropping a match onto a pile of dry leaves.”
oscar laughed and she tried to ignore the shivers the sound sent up her spine, the rising goose flesh on her arms as she counted the waivers, having to start the count over again more than a few times.
“I’m sure they’re not that bad.” oscar reasoned, taking the file folder from her, insisting on lightening her load. “I just want you to feel at ease.”
she rolled her eyes, grabbing her drink as she started to walk out of the motorhome. “I’ve been living in delias shadow since I was fourteen. she’s a well respected medical professional; and I went to a three year college. everything she does is perfect. hell, she’s getting married this weekend and here I am, convincing myself that letting you tag along is a good idea so I don’t look like I’m going to die alone.”
it’s not like she wasn’t successful. she was a part of the legal team for one one of the biggest racing names in the world. when Oscar’s contract dispute started, she had been the one who served otmar his papers (and to this day, saying the words “otmar szafanuer you have been served, see you in court” was still one of the finest moments of her career).
it’s just that delia always brought out the worst in her, every insecurity, every flaw she hated about herself. their childhood has been fraught with insecurity and competition.
she sighed, leaning against one of the paddocks scratchy palm trees, bark digging into the skin on her arms. oscar was still trying to plead his case, and she wondered why she was fighting it.
this is what she wanted, wasn’t it? oscar on her arm, making her feel like she was wanted, loved, even?
she took another sip of her drink before she spoke again.
“we’ll probably have to share a hotel room, and my dad might threaten you with his antique saw collection. you’ll also have to stop me from killing delia with my bare hands before the big day.”
oscar chuckled, handing back her file folder. “I think I can handle that.”
that goddamn smile. that’s where it all started, when she first started to think about his lips on hers, his hands in her hair, his mouth wrapped around her nipples.
why on earth was she agreeing to this?
“you’d better be up bright and early tomorrow. it’s a long flight and my dad is meeting us at the airport. as far as everyone knows, I’m not bringing a date.”
the feeling of his hand against the small of her back burned into her skin. she could feel his body heat through the thick fabric of her papaya golf shirt as he started guiding her towards the garage where the hot laps were being conducted.
“oscar, what are you doing?”
he grinned at her, baring his pearl-white teeth, in their slightly uneven top row. “if we’re going to convince your dad that we’re together, we’d better start practicing.”
god, this man was going to be the death of her.
————
she regretted inviting oscar along the second they got off the plane.
from the moment they passed through airport security, it was as if a switch had been flicked in her brain, converting him from the serious, driven race car driver she met at the track, to a man straight out of the romance book she had been listening to on the flight. his hand was rooted to her back protectively, and he wouldn't let her carry any of her luggage on her own.
she could get used to this, she thought, watching his t-shirt ride up over his defined abs as he reached into the overhead cabin to pull down her two small suitcases.
they walked peacefully through the terminal, oscar pushing the baggage cart with one hand, his free arm looped over her shoulder.
"you know you don't have to act like my boyfriend until we see my father, right?" she said hesitantly, running a thumb over his knuckles. "my feelings won't get hurt if you don't want to pretend when nobody else is around.
oscar acted like he was about to say something, but he was cut off by a shout across the airport.
"y/n!" the voice shouted. "there's my girl!"
"dad!" she shouted, breaking away from oscar's side to launch herself into her father's arms. the constant travel that came with working in formula one took it's toll, and she didn't get to see her father as often as she liked. she'd had to move to england to work with mclaren, and her family had stayed behind.
she never said she loved that part of her job, but a little space away from her family often made her appreciate them a little more.
"dad, i want you to meet someone." she started, waving at oscar, who lumbered over with the weighed-down baggage cart. "this is my boyfriend, oscar." despite the lie, and how foreign the words were, saying them almost felt right.
my boyfriend oscar.
"i'm carl, nice to meet you." her father said, his voice a slight bit more gentle than his usual grunt.
oscar shook carl's hand, a bit of weariness on his face as he slipped his smooth, dainty hand inside carl's larger, more calloused one. "nice to meet you, sir."
carl raised an eyebrow. "australian? you'd better not be giving my daughter any of those australian kisses."
"dad, what the hell!?" she whined, hiding her face behind her hands as a blush began to coat her cheeks. if there was one thing she definitely was not getting from oscar piastri, it was australian kisses.
oscar thought she was cute when she was flustered. it was such a shame it took him an hot minute to figure out why.
australian kisses are like french kisses, just down under. it was mark who had said it to him first, in an attempt to be funny. as the meaning set in for oscar, he found himself silently cursing mark webber.
but it didn't mean he didn't get half-hard thinking about having his head between y/n's thighs.
________
"you've got to be shitting me."
she knew they would be sharing a bedroom. all of the plus ones were rooming in the chic, trendy motel with the guests who had invited them. and that would have been fine.
except that this hotel only had a queen bed, done up with plush white sheets and a small turquoise blanket draped over the bottom half.
a queen bed that she would have to share with a man that she wished would fuck her brains out.
"i can call the main office if you want." oscar suggested softly, reaching for the door handle. "i can see if they have another room, or they could bring a cot in for me?"
she sighed, raking her hair over her head as she looked around the room. "don't bother. the motel only has fifteen rooms, and it's booked solid for delia's wedding, between her bridal party and the fiancée's family, i doubt they'd even really have a cot. we can manage, right?"
oscar nodded, hands buried deep in his sweatpant pockets. damn those gray sweats.
"we can make a towel barrier, and the bed is more than big enough for both of us. hell, we could probably have a threesome on that bed and still have space."
did oscar piastri not have a single drop of shame?
she shook her head, trying to forget the thought of a half-naked oscar hovering over her, whispering things in her ear. she made a grab for her suitcase placing it on the bed and grabbing a handful of clothes and a travel bath and body works bottle.
"i'm going for a shower, can we talk about this afterwards? i'm jet lagged and i really just want to sleep."
"sure." oscar shrugged, spreading hismelf out on the bed, arms over his head so that his shirt once again showed off his stunning lower torso.
she tried to stop herself from staring at the happy trail dipping under oscar's waistband, but she failed miserably, her eyes following the small trail of hair down to the waistband of his jack and jones boxers, to the impressive lump underneath his jeans.
if his cock was that big when it was soft, how would it feel when it was hard, throbbing and inside of her. just the mere thought was making heat grow between her legs-
nope. we're not going there today.
she squeaked out some kind of muffled statement, clutching her clothes to her chest and making a mad dash towards the bathroom door. a cold shower should fix this, right?
when oscar heard the shower turn on, the music clicking on soon after, he sat up on the bed, rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes. he knew he should shower as well, but the fatigue of air travel was beginning to set in. a small nap wouldn't hurt, right?
he got up from the bed, socked feet sliding against the laminate floor as he reached for the wheels on the bottom of y/n's suitcase. all he needed to do was close the suitcase, move it out of the way, close his eyes, and then drift of into a peaceful slumber.
all he had to do was hope that he didn't wake up hard, or moan her name in his sleep. it should be easy, right?
wrong. the suitcase slipped out of his grip, almost sliding off the bed before he thanked god for his reflexes, stopping the suitcase from hitting the floor, save for a few articles of clothing.
he leaned down picking up the black busted tour shirt and denim shorts, his breath catching in his throat when he saw what was resting on the area rug underneath.
it was a mass of bright peach lace, the color so close to the mclaren signature papaya, his heart hammering in his chest as he picked it up and unraveled the halter bralette. he bit back a moan as he stared at the lace and mesh that left very little to the imagination.
he started to think about his mild-mannered co-worker wearing it, her perky nipples pressing against the bright, skimpy fabric.
the mere thought sent all the blood rushing straight to his cock.
god, he was down so bad that it should be criminal.
he shouldn’t be thinking about whispering dirty sweet nothings against her skin, or sucking a hickey into her thigh before he plunges his tongue inside of her.
he shouldn’t be thinking about anything that would make his boner worse.
and that was when he heard the bathroom door open. and there wasn’t enough time to hide the sweat seeping from the pores on his skin, the tent in his sweatpants, or the fact that he was still holding the offending lingerie in his hands.
“it’s not what it looks like!” the driver sputters, turning around to face her, and bitting his lip to stop himself from losing whatever composure he has left.
she’s wearing booty shorts that barely cover her backside, the ass emblazoned with the acronym for the college she attended, her top half covered with a loose-fitting muscle tank sporting a skeleton on a surfboard, the sides of her bare tits just barely visible through the arm holes.
“oscar,” she breathed, voice raspy when she saw the tent pitched in his pants. “do i turn you on?”
“you have since the day I met you.” he admits, dropping the bra and slowly moving closer, hesitantly running his hands down her still-warm sides. “tell me, y/n, do you touch yourself when you think about me?”
“i could ask you the same.” she shot back, her voice wavering as she pressed her hand shakily against oscars clothed cock. “your boyfriend act didn’t feel like an act this morning.”
they shouldn’t be doing this. it was crossing so many lines. but when oscar looked her dead in the eyes and breathed out a single word, all thoughts of self control went out the window.
"yes."
she pressed her lips against his, nipples springing to attention as she pressed her front against his, his hands moving from her sides to squeeze and caress her breasts, her mouth falling open in a moan against his lips. oscar took that chance to slip his tongue inside her mouth, his hands migrating to her hair as he maneuvered their bodies towards the bed.
she took the lead once her back hit the mattress, practically ripping her tank top off and casting it aside, hands making a mad grab for oscar's plain white shirt while he kissed and marked up her neck.
she whimpered under his touch, and would have been embarrassed had she not been so turned on.
"oscar, please." she begged, spreading her thighs as she tried to grind her core against his thigh. "i need you. i need your cock so deep inside me that i can still feel it three days later."
oscar practically growled at the admission, pulling his lips off her right tit. "are you begging for me, pretty girl? do you want me to make you feel good? hm, want me to treat you right?"
"yes." she breathed, tucking a hand underneath his boxers. "please, oscar."
god, his name sounded so sexy rolling off her tongue. he couldn't think straight when she had her slender fingers wrapped around his cock.
"are you sure you want this? because once i have you, i won't let you go. i'll need more."
"i'm sure, oscar. and i'm not just saying that because i think your mild possessiveness is kind of hot."
oscar smiled, a small, imperceptible blush forming on his cheeks. "you think i'm hot."
"since the day i met you." she hummed, sewing her lips to his, her fingers tugging on his hair, a small moan leaving his throat.
"oh, so pretty boy likes it when i tug on his hair." she giggled. "i learn something new every day."
"keep talking like that, and you won't be able to walk in the morning."
"i look forward to it."
oscar looked around, his eyes settling on the mirror hanging opposite the bed, right next to the bathroom door. he felt his dick throb as an idea formed in his head, pulling away from the body lying prone on the bed.
"shorts off, all-fours on the bed facing that mirror." he ordered, trying to keep a gentle tone in his voice as he clambered off the bed, stripping out of his sweatpants and boxers, hard member jutting straight out as her touched himself, trying to find some kind of release from the pressure between his legs.
she shivered at the command before making a show of dropping her shorts to show off the cream coloured cotton thong she was wearing, laughing to herself when oscar's eyes rolled back in his skull, a moan escaping his throat.
"god, you're going to be the death of me, sweetheart."
she couldn't deny the excitement in her bones as she settled herself on the bed, arousal literally dripping down her thighs when she looked in the mirror and saw oscar looking at her, mounting the bed behind her before slapping his cock against her ass.
in a more tender, loving action, oscar leaned over her, pressing a kiss to the top of her spine.
"you're so pretty." he whispered, the compliment sinking into her skin like tattoo ink before he sunk into her, gripping her hips and closing his eyes to try and show some restraint as she got used to his size.
it was a sinful picture in that motel room mirror as he began to rut into her, watching her tits shake in the mirror, listening to her sweet whimpers and whines and pleads for more.
"god, yes, oscar! feels so-so fucking good, oh my god."
he met her eyes in the mirror, sweat running down his chest and dripping onto her back as he kept thrusting, the same relentless pace. "you're so good for me, pretty girl. so stunning, so sexy with my cock inside you like this. god, you're prefect. perfectly mine."
he practically growled the last word, knowing damn well that he was ruined for any other woman.
-------
they woke up in a tangled heap of limbs, not knowing where one body ended and the other began, lazily exchanging kisses as the sun rose outside.
"oscar, we have to go to the rehearsal." she whined as he kissed her neck. "if we're late, i'm never going to hear the end of it."
"don't care." oscar hums, running his hands up and down her sides. "i would gladly stay in bed with you all day and order room service so we don't ever have to leave."
"osc." she warned, sitting up in the bed and pulling the duvet over her chest. "we're going to the rehearsal. i'm a bridesmaid, remember?"
fifteen minutes later, oscar was in the bathroom steam-cleaning the wrinkles out of his suit while she tried on the bridesmaid dress, caramel fabric falling over her skin as she stared at herself in the mirror.
the same mirror where, just twelve hours before, she had watched oscar piastri fuck her brains out.
she felt heat on her hips, and didn't even need to look up to realize that it was oscars hands, gently caressing her skin through the satin. he gently kissed her shoulder blades, his hands moving to do up the zipper she couldn't quite reach.
"you look beautiful." he hummed, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. "you deserve better than me."
she giggled softly, tugging his arms away from her hips and around her waist, sinking back into his arms. "no i don't. you're exactly what i want, oscar. you're funny and you're sweet and you make me feel like the best version of myself. you're also really great in bed."
oscar laughed, kissing her softly. he would never get tired of feeling her lips against his. "the boyfriend stuff was never an act. and i volunteered to come with you this weekend because i wanted to get to know you off the track. who you are when you aren't serving legal papers to team principals."
"i only did that once. i missed out on the chance to fight with chip ganassi since arrow has a different legal team." she laughed. "i really like you, oscar."
"and i really like you too, y/n. my perfect, beautiful girl."
-------
the wedding came and went, marking the end of y/n and oscar's dream weekend, the reminder that very soon, they would all be going back to their real lives.
that she and oscar would need to figure out where they stood with each other.
but she didn't want to think about that. not while she was dancing with her sister, the pair of them finally getting along as they screeched the words to an old tove lo song.
oscar watched from the table, sitting next to y/n's mother and making polite conversation as his lovesick eyes found her under the disco lights.
"someone is feeling lovesick tonight." mrs. y/l/n hummed. "we heard you two last night. the motel walls aren't as thick as you think."
oscar blanched, coughing on his drink. "you heard all that?"
y/n's mom laughed. "her father had to leave the room and get a coffee before he walked in there and strangled you. y/n is always going to be his little girl. but she's growing up, and i think if she has you in her life, she'll be okay. you're good together."
oscar was about to say something else when a shout rang through the room. "delia is doing the bouquet toss!"
all of the members of each wedding party gathered in the middle of the floor, y/n's sister standing on the dj stand, her white dress brushing against the floor and picking up specs of dust and dirt, as she lifted the bouquet over her head.
y/n mother rested her hand on oscar's forearm, staring at him with a knowing look, hoping her other daughter would be the next to tie the knot.
sure enough, it was almost like fate as the boquet of white roses soared into the air, nailing y/n right in the face and tumbling into her arms as the other bridesmaids cheered. her face was pink and she was trying to hide behind the bouqet as delia came to pull her into a hug.
"i love you, sis. and i'm sorry i didn't know how to show it when we were younger." delia gushed, kissing her baby sister on the forehead before nodding her head at oscar. "you've got a good one. don't let him get away."
"i won't." she laughed, wiping at the tears threatening to fall down her cheeks. "i love you, deels."
the song changed, a slow kesha ballad humming through the speakers as the singer crooned about her old flame, and how they couldn't hold a candle to her current love. she turned away from her sister, who had just gone to find her new spouse to dance with, only to see oscar, looking dapper in his black suit and bowtie.
"can i have this dance, my love?"
she smiled, leaving her bouquet with her mother before stepping into oscar's arms, wishing for nothing more than to wrap herself around him like a woolen sweater. she rested her head against his chest, allowing herself to fall into him while they swayed to the music, his lips pressing a kiss to her forehead as dolly parton began to sing the second half of the song.
man, she could really get used to this.
get used to oscar.
TAGS:
@magnummagnussen @httpiastri @sidcrosbyspuck @scuderiamh @silverstonesainz @lorarri @love4lando @thatsdemko @diorleclerc
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moonydustx · 28 days
Text
Good Medicine
Trafalgar Law x F!Reader
warnings: F!reader is sick, Law has some problems taking action to take care of her. Pre-established relationship, mentions of disgusting things about being sick (basically vomiting) , fluff
a/n: maybe I'll rewrite this better later, I just needed to get it out there to see if it sparked my creativity.
requests open | one piece masterlist
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Today was one of those days where you woke up already knowing something was wrong, your only mission was to find out what. The plate in front of you looked strange that morning. The same coffee, the same bread, everything seemed wrong. The same went for your body, it seemed to weigh tons and your stomach was boiling with something that went beyond the hot drink in front of you.
"Are you okay?" Shachi snapped you out of your reverie, watching you roll a piece of the sandwich from one side to the other.
"I just need to get some air." You stood up, not having the trouble to even take your plate off the table.
With hurried steps, you reached the bathroom with just enough time to open the toilet seat before all your breakfast went away. You just hoped that like a good hangover, emptying it would be enough to improve but apparently you were wrong.
You had recently left the last island you had visited, which meant more things to keep: more work for you. In those days, you knew that rest would be scarce, as would the times you would meet your captain - who also served as your boyfriend in his spare time. Chills ran through your body as you struggled to stack two boxes of medical supplies, your body seemed to sweat more than usual. You heard your name being called in the distance, needing to focus a few times before you saw Law approaching.
"Are you ok?" He analyzed you from top to bottom. Pale lips, deep dark circles, something was wrong.
"Yes captain." you replied, respecting your treaty for when you were in public. "Just some heartburn."
"Keep an eye on it. You know where to find the medicine." he simply responded, analyzing you once more before leaving.
You finished putting away the boxes and leaned against the wall, trying to regain the air and strength lost in the whole process. Following the quick orders your captain had given, you swallowed some pills and continued with your tasks, even though your body seemed to fight against every movement.
You loved Law and you knew he loved you too, but sometimes it was a little difficult to deal with how methodical he could be especially when it came to being sick. On days like these, he tended to be more of a doctor than a boyfriend and you hated that. Ignoring the thoughts, you made your way to your shared room, reaching the bed and seeing Ikkaku hanging from the top.
"What ghost scared you?"
"What you mean?" you threw yourself against the pillows, using the blanket.
"You're pale, you look like you're going to disappear." She came down, standing in front of you and placing her hand on your forehead. "And you're burning up with a fever."
"I've already taken my medicine." you covered your head, trying to escape the cold that only you felt. "I just need to get some sleep."
"Did you eat anything bad?" She pulled your blanket back. "Or are you pregnant?"
"I'm betting more on the first hypothesis." you immediately reassured her, knowing that for the other proposal, you and Law were always responsible in terms of protecting each other. "I think it's just a virus."
"Did you warn Law?"
"He asked me to..." you sat down, to continue talking, but again your stomach turned.
Without responding, you ran once again towards the bathroom, this time Ikkaku's hurried footsteps followed you.
"Open the door." she asked and even though she didn't see it, you shook your head. A few minutes passed before it knocked again.
"I am worried." she warned. "Open the door or I'll have to call him here."
"It is not necessary." you reached up, unlocking the lock. "I'm just a little dizzy."
"Let me help you." Ikkaku pulled you, supporting your body as you washed your face. "Are you sure the medicine alone is enough?"
"Yes." you replied with clear discouragement in your voice.
"I'm going back to my room, maybe getting some sleep will help me."
Walking a few meters from the bathroom, the two of you came face to face with Law followed by Bepo, both discussing something about the likely next island they would find.
"Are you feeling ok?" Bepo was the first to ask and you just nodded. Law's gaze burned over you again, analyzing every inch of your body.
He knew there was something wrong, but he didn't know how far he wanted to intervene, for fear that you would feel uncomfortable.
"Do you need any help?" he asked in your direction, waiting for you to say yes.
"It's okay captain." you replied before Ikkaku spoke for you, giving what was your best smile for the moment.
he two of you walked away from him and it didn't take long for you to reach the bedroom. Ikkaku helped you get to the bed and watched you cover yourself up to your head. Being one of the only two people who knew about your relationship with the captain, she sat at the foot of the bed, watching you.
"Are you sure you don't want to ask him for help?"
"He's going to medicate me, probably tell me to eat and rest. I've already done almost all of that." you answered. "I don't want to be a problem for him, I know it's not in his profile to take care of someone like that, in a more intimate way."
"But it's what you need right now." she replied, walking away. "Get some rest, I'll ask them to prepare something light for you to eat."
The lights went out and you remained there in a light doze bothered by the fever. Ikkaku followed with firm steps, finding the captain heading towards his room, approaching him halfway and pretending to be angry.
"Captain, I need to talk to you."
She tried to appear more imposing in order to advocate for her friend, but she knew that would be a bit difficult when the person you want to impose yourself on is your captain. Law just gave her space to enter the room, closing the door for her.
"What happened?"
"Are you really going to let your girlfriend walk around dying?" she crossed her arms, indignant.
"She said it was just heartburn."
"That was her talking to her doctor. With her boyfriend she would definitely ask for help. Can I give some unsolicited advice captain?" Ikkaku leaned on the table, taking the opportunity to look around.
"I guess I have no choice, right?"
"She's burning up with a fever in her room, she vomited her guts out and can't stand up." with each new symptom, Law was the one who seemed to get paler and more worried. "Take care of her a little. A little affection is also good medicine."
"Right..." he seemed to analyze, waiting for more answers from the woman in front of him.
"I'll ask them to prepare some soup for her and leave it in her room, okay?"
"Could it be." Law turned his back to Ikkaku, ready to leave. "Thank you. This time I won't throw you into the sea out of insolence." he joked, earning a few laughs from the woman.
Law knew something was wrong, now he needed to find out why you didn't ask for his help. He walked quickly and felt his heart shatter when he found you curled up and shaking under the blanket.
"Just let me sleep Ikkaku, I don't know if I can eat right now." your dejected voice murmured, squeezing Law's heart even more.
Now it was all so clear, so obvious that part of the doctor felt ashamed for not having noticed it before. You were so careful with anyone who even cut a piece of their finger, it was obvious you wanted the same treatment.
"Hey, sorry it took me so long." he whispered. You opened your eyes and found Law bent down on your bed, his fingers were removing the strands stuck to your face by sweat. "I'm going to do a quick scan on you."
He warned and then used the sword he carried, analyzing every millimeter of your body. It seemed to be a virus and a resistant one. That would explain the fever and the tremors.
"Let me take proper care of you."
"No." you murmured, feeling his arms go around your legs and back, picking you up. "I already took medicine."
"I know."
"And I don't want to be tied up in an IV." you tried to pull away from him, feeling your stomach drop at the movement.
"I'm not going to medicate you." the blue dome appeared around the two of you.
"And I think I need to throw up."
At the last second, Law changed your fate, taking you to the bathroom. As soon as the gray walls of your room turned into the walls of the bathroom, you reached the floor again, leaning over the toilet and despite the immense urge your body didn't seem to have any more bile to be expelled. It took him a few seconds to follow you, but soon his hands found your hair, holding it with one hand while the other passed your forehead.
"Law." you called and flinched, pressing your own body against yourself. "It hurts."
"I'm so sorry sweetheart." he placed his hand on top of yours, which was pressed against your stomach. "You still have a fever and haven't eaten anything, we need energy for your body." he confirmed, gently lifting you off the ground. "Come on, I'll give you a bath.
"I'm disgusting."
"That's the point." Law spoke and saw you laugh, albeit lightly, which was already a relief for him. "I'm just kidding. Let's try to get this fever down."
Knowing that you didn't have enough strength to even talk, Law guided you to the shower, taking off your clothes while you leaned on him. As soon as the cold water came into contact with your body, you tried to escape and were immediately held by your boyfriend.
"Law!"
"Just a little, I know it's pretty cold." he allowed you to hug him even more and consequently get him wet in the process. "I promise, just a few minutes and I'll take you back to our room."
"If I survive until then."
"Do not say that." He scolded you, even though he knew that your way of dealing with problems was always sarcastic - sometimes even too much.
Law slowly turned off the shower. The first breeze that hit your damp skin made you cling against him and whimper, Law's usually colder skin this time was a warm pleasure to your body.
You felt a drastic difference in the environment and broke away from the man, seeing that you were in his room. Law guided you to sit on the bed and pulled a small blanket over your shoulders while he looked for some clothes for you to wear. Taking advantage of the comfort, you lay down and watched him walk from one side to the other.
"Can you sit down?" He knelt in front of you, using a small towel to dry your still damp skin.
Leaning on his shoulders, you sat on the bed and for a few minutes, you felt like a delicate, small doll. Using the extra strength he had that you lacked, Law dressed your body piece by piece, like a delicate puzzle. Even with the simple touch of your hand on your shoulder, Law could feel you tremble, probably due to the weakness that the virus brought to you.
A few minutes later, you were dressed. A pair of baggy black sweatpants and a blouse of the same size. Surprising you by showing that he had more pieces than the hat adorned with black circles, Law placed a black cap on your head, adjusting your ears so that they were also warm in the fabric.
"Unfortunately, we can't use that." he pushed away the blanket you were about to use. "If you cover yourself up and get hotter than that, it will only make your fever worse."
Avoiding your grumble, Law sat with his coat against the wall and pulled you to sit against his chest. Watching you curl up against his body, Law picked up the small bowl on the table next to him that Ikkaku had probably left as they agreed.
"I do not want it." you tried to move it away with your hand, having used your strength in vain as Law didn't move an inch. "I just want to sleep, just a little."
"Just a few spoonfuls and I'll let you sleep. It's that or more medicine." He warned, seeing you pout at the time. "Come on, I'll help you."
"Sorry to bring you into this."
"You don't need to say sorry." Law wished he could get rid of that virus right away when he saw you grunting in pain when you swallowed the first spoonful of food. "I should have noticed sooner, I know I can be more distant sometimes, but I need you to make it clear when you need me in moments like this."
"But what about the others, if they suspect something?" you accepted the other spoonful of food, the discomfort this time was smaller but still present.
"It's okay as long as you're okay."
Supporting the bowl of soup in one hand and the spoon in the other, Law convinced you to eat just five more spoonfuls, the last one being enough for him to see you push the bowl away and writhe in pain again. Law placed the bowl in the same room he was in before and saw you cling to his body, your eyes already heavy.
"Law you're going to get sick." you mumbled, already practically giving in to sleep.
"Don't worry about that." the last thing you felt was his lips on your forehead. "And if I stay, it will be worth staying with you."
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leviathxn · 1 month
Note
Hi! I have a request! If you would like to do it...😊
Uhm, so what if y/n and Miguel are married for years and have kids but the Spider society doesn't know. And the shock on the Spider crew faces when they find out about Miguel's sweet side.
YESS I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THESE
(N/N) is nickname or whatever spider name you want to go by
—————————————————————————
“Who are you?”
—————————————————————————
By no means were you a strong spider. In your universe, you were the first test subject. You got minor powers of a spider. They weren’t very prevalent so the lab tried another experiment, and that person became the true Spider-Man of the universe. You guys were close friends you ended up becoming their sidekick. People assumed there was a relationship, but actually your heart belong to someone else. That somebody was Miguel O’ Hara.
You met Miguel when your partner had ran into the portal and you followed shortly after. Love at first sight might be a reach. You were definitely in love, Miguel was too… he just had to open up to it. He did. It took him a long time but he did.
However, just like him, nobody had any idea. They figured it was on sided, nothing special. So it stayed a secret between you and Miguel. In the span of 5 years, you and Miguel had gotten married, moved in together, had a kid and had another on the way. You never did much at Headquarters so you stayed home taking care of the kid while also staying healthy for your 2nd baby. You were sure nobody knew you existed in the new society, anybody that you had originally met never said much. Since nobody knew your relationship to Miguel, you were seen as a once in a while friend to chat with.
However one day you decided to take your 2 year old and plumped up self to see Miguel and meet new spiders. Not only that but Miguel left your home-made empanadas in the fridge. Your child knew he was spider-man, well as much as a two year old could comprehend. As you walked through the portal it felt like you were looking at an entire new place. You hadn’t been in the Headquarters since the renovation, but luckily you remember seeing the layout blueprints on Miguel’s desk. You got stares, and every now and then a spider would come up to you and “catch-up”. They would ask why you were there, you would say “I’m here to see my husband”, and surprisingly they wouldn’t think much of it. You figured most would assume it was your former partner (Miguel was deathly jealous of him). They said hello to your 2 year old and then would leave you on your mission.
Finally making your way to his office, you picked up your child and gently opened the door. He was standing by his computer screens while a small group of spiders seemed to be… harassing him.
“I think our mission went fine! It wasn’t even a big mistake, nobody died. You can just say your hate me and move on, don’t ban me from the cafeteria”. A teen with bleeding armpits(?) shouted at him. Another blonde spider laughed and smacked his arm
“Miguel wouldn’t get rid of you, he’s running out of reliable people”. You could hear Miguel’s grumbling from a mile away. A British man threw up a random gadget before catching it again (definitely not a toy).
“Well maybe if he wasn’t so mean”. Miguel snatched the gadget out of his hand before an old friend of yours caught eye. Peter B. Parker, with MayDay, ran over to you.
“Oh my God it’s (n/n)! With a kid- two kids? Oh my god this is amazing, long time no see!” He gave you a big hug, playing little hand games with your child. You said hello to Mayday and put down your kid. They two of them already started running off (you were worried about Maydays powers but the place is full of spiders, what could go wrong?). In typical Peter fashion, he runs after the kids and plays with them. The rest of the teens stared, none of them knew who you were. Miguel stared at you across the room, his face softening.
As you walked over to him, you packed his cheek and handed him the empanadas. He gently grabbed your waist and smiled, before taking the empanadas and putting them on the table. You hear Peter gasp as he watches the scene from across the office.
“You should be resting cariño”. You smiled and but a hand over your belly.
“It’s fine bubs, it’s a spider baby, they’ll come out just fine”. He kisses your forehead and holds your hand over your belly.
It was eerily quiet in the room, you had almost forgot that the spiders were there. As you turned your head to look at them, it was pure shock from all, even Mayday was looking at you guys (although she didn’t really understand why).
“It’s nice to meet you guys! You must be the crew I hear all about.” Peter almost fell off the ceiling, luckily catching himself and the kids (when did your kid get up there).
The teens immediately ran up to you as if you were an anomaly, “Who are you and how did you do that!”
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OKAY THIS WAS SUPER FUN TO BUILD UP TOO
I love doing like backgrounds and then boom the moment, especially for shorts like this. Let me know if you guys liked it, and thank you for the request!
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507 notes · View notes
spookysteddie · 4 months
Text
That Friday Night
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Modern!Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Influencer!fem!reader
read part one here
18+ MINORSDNI
cw: alcohol, drugs (weed and cocaine), clubbing, slight Dom!Eddie if you squint, possessive!Eddie, swearing, pet names, oral (fem!receiving), light choking, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, edging, creampie. (let me know if I missed anything)
wc: 4.3k (I'm so sorry)
a/n: First of all, I want to thank every single person who liked, reblogged or made comments about part one. I was shitting myself posting it because (like I said) this is not an original thought. I'd read a few and it gave me this wave of inspiration. I am very proud of this part. It's also a little long (sorry sorry sorry I couldn't stop) . Also I don't think I'll be doing a tag list? When I used to do that no one on the list would like the fic and it was a lot of work. I hope that is okay? Let me know if you want more! I love and appreciate all of you!
...
You weren’t the type of person who got shy. Your entire job is being in front of a camera, telling people what you like, what you wear, the type of music you listen to. You did brand deals and went on lots of trips with people you didn’t know. Public interaction was easy for you and you definitely enjoyed it. 
But being personally invited to your favorite band's concert (even if you had tickets already) as their frontman's personal guest? It makes you weak in the knees. 
Telling your team about the phone call went about as good as one would expect. Anna and Case frown at you while continuing to say ‘you could’ve let it go to voicemail and we could’ve handled it directly with his people. AND why did you have him send the information directly to you?’
They weren't necessarily wrong in being upset. There were plenty of ways a conversation like that could be twisted and fucked with, especially if, for whatever reason, someone was recording the phone call. It was very easy for them to manipulate and edit that kind of shit, and drama was the last thing you wanted. 
However, the rest of the week went by without an issue. The gossip magazines had moved on to something else (though there were a few who continued to speculate about your non-relationship with Eddie. You did your deals, and kept yourself busy. And by the time Friday rolled around you were hardly nervous. 
Or that’s what you kept telling yourself. 
“Bell bottom star pants. Absolutely,” Hana says from her place on your bathroom counter, practically in the sink. “With that black leather top you love AND the red leather jacket. Oh! Oh! Oh! And the red boots!” 
You put the outfit on, looking in the mirror, “you don’t think it’s too… stereotypical?” 
Hana looks at you through the mirror, “no such thing. You look great.” 
Hana was one of the few people in your life who’d tell you like it is. You could trust her to tell you if her gut feelings were off, or on. She was your best friend and one of the few people who weren’t just here for the exposure. She’s here to be your cheerleader and you were hers. 
“Alright, let's get this going before I change my mind which I am two seconds away from doing.” 
… 
You should’ve changed your mind. 
You can hardly keep from throwing up as you're led by security to a private entrance. To get there you have to pass by their tour buses. All you can hear is loud music and whooping from inside. It’s clear they’re running around in there as the bus is rocking and all you can do is pray they don’t see you. 
You’re far too sober for the interaction you’ll be having at this current time. 
Unfortunately for you, the universe hates you. Just when you think you’re home free, the door opens, almost smacking you in the face. 
“Don’t think you can get away that easy, Asher,” Eddie says as he looks down at you. His pupils are blown wide, clearly from whatever drug he’s consumed. More than likely cocaine and weed. His words aren’t slurred so he isn’t drunk, though he does have a beer bottle in his large hands. 
God his hands, there have been many times where you’d imagine them wrapped around your throat, cutting off air as he fucks you like he hates you. You bet he could reach you even as he’s eating you out, he’s so tall and long. 
You wish you could say the grin you shoot at him is fake, however with the way he’s looking at you, like he wants to devour and smother you, it's not. You feel like a fucking school girl who has a crush. Your heart pounds so fast in your chest and you swear everyone around you can hear it. 
“We weren’t running away,” you say, voice a little breathier than you’d like. “Um this is my best friend-” 
“Hana, nice to meet you,” he cuts you off. It’s then that you see his eyes get wide and you know he’s been stalking your profile. Not that you can say anything because you’ve done it… a lot. “I, uh, saw the instagram story you put up earlier.” 
Hana smirks, “sure you did, big boy.” She pats his chest and is clearly much braver than you. That’s another thing about you and her, if one of you is feeling not confident, the other makes up for it. Like, on your own, asking for ketchup feels like cutting off a limb, but if she can't do it then it's up to you and vice versa. 
Eddie scratches the back of his neck, his black t-shirt stretching over his wide shoulder, “want to join us? We have alcohol!” 
“We would love that. Wouldn’t we?” Hana looks down at you with her brows raised, still taller than you in heels. 
You nod, “yes. Yeah absolutely! Are we allowed to photograph in here?” 
You know it’s a stupid thing to ask, but you also don’t want to take a photo of you and Hana and then not be able to post it. And what if you get photos with the rest of the band? Everyone already knows you’re going to be here. Just not… in this tour bus. 
Eddie nods, holding out his hand, “you are allowed to do whatever you want, pretty girl. And if anyone has an issue, send them my way, yeah?” He kisses the hand you’ve placed in his before leading you up the stairs of his bus. 
It's chaos in there, pure and utter chaos. You turn to look at Hana, silently telling her how insane this is. She nods slightly, but you see the grin on her face. Hana loves this stuff; the parties, the madness, all of it.
Eddie introduces you to the band, pulling you in closer by the waist. “You all need to be on your best behavior. No one touches her. Do you all understand me?” Your heart flutters at how serious he is and it instantly forces his bandmates eyes to fall to your feet. It’s impressive, actually. 
Suddenly, a bottle of beer is in your hands, passed to you by Eddie. “Oh… thank you.” You can hardly look at him as a small smile forms on your lips. His attention makes you feel all kinds of funny inside, your stomach doing flips. You know you have to look at him eventually, but he’s just so pretty that it actually hurts. 
“Um, so are you excited for your show?” This time you manage to actually drag your eyes to his. He smiles at you, his teeth so beautiful and perfect. It’s when he sits down that you realize that was a stupid question. Of course he’s excited. This is his actual job. 
He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees as he looks up at you through his lashes, you could kiss him. But you don’t for obvious reasons. Reasons you can't really think of at the moment. Not when he’s looking at you like that.  The beer bottle hangs in his right hand between his legs. 
“Very. Not much comes close to the feeling I get when we’re on that stage.” He shakes his head, curly hair moving with him, “plus, being able to hear people sing my songs back to me is fucking incredible.” 
His hand finds yours, pulling you a little closer. Eddie is testing the waters, you know this. Unfortunately for you, your brain can’t see through the cloud of lust. So, you let him pull you closer, sit you on his lap, and wrap an arm around you. 
Your brain does catch up, quicker than expected. “It seems like it’d be incredible. I applaud you cause I could never do that. I have stage fright.” 
He blinks up at you, “stage fright? Haven’t you done red carpet interviews and stuff?” 
You shift a little, shrugging, “well yes. But that’s different.” You can't stop the awkward laugh that comes out of you. It was true, it was different. You weren’t exactly sure why but it was. 
Eddie's thumb moves along your side slightly and it leaves goosebumps in its wake. 
“I’m being honest, the lights are so bright that I can’t see everyone in the crowds. Mainly just the front rows. Makes it easier.” 
Eddie puts his beer bottle on the ground by his feet before sitting up and grabbing a joint. He’s quiet as he lights it, puffing out smoke to get it going. “Want some?” 
He holds the joint towards you, waiting for your answer. You’ve done this before at the frat houses at college. You’ve done it here and there in high school as well. This is second nature, but this time you’re nervous. What if you forget how to inhale? What if you throw up? Any number of things can happen. 
Something happens inside you and your brain finally catches up to itself. A small stroke of confidence happens and without taking your eyes off of him, you lean forward, wrapping your lips around the joint and inhaling. His eyes stay locked on yours, his tongue wetting his lips. You pull back, slowly blowing out the smoke. 
“Fuckin’ hell.” It comes out in a whisper and you know he didn’t mean to say it out loud. His eyes falling from your eyes, to your lips and back again. 
God you want to kiss him. His pillowy lips would feel amazing against yours, you just know it. You start to lean into him, desperate to know if you’re right.   
A bang on the door scares the fuck out of the both of you and Eddies boot knocks over his bottle. It’s a good thing he drank most of it, the contents not spilling on the plush carpet. 
“Let’s get going guys. Put your dicks back in your pants, we have a show to do.” You know that voice, that’s their manager. He’s the one who called your people to make sure you had all the rules for this evening. 
Photos are fine. 
Everyone must be tagged. 
Nothing negative. 
Absolutely no photos of any white substances. Even if it’s sugar. 
That last one would be hard considering it was on every flat surface in neat, clean lines. 
You go to stand up, but Eddie stops you, his hand tightening on your hip. “Promise I’ll see ya after?” 
You nod, “y-yeah of course.” 
Before you know it, his lips are on yours. The kiss is soft, sweet and you don’t want it to end. In fact, you totally forget about all the other people in the room. Your hands find his face, pulling him closer as his tongue begs for permission. And once you grant it, it’s game over. 
He tastes like beer and weed and cigarettes and you love it. You want more. You want to get closer. 
But it’s not long before the door to his trailer opens up, his manager stepping into the bus. “I said get your dicks and tongues together. We cannot be late.” 
… 
By the time the show is over you barely have a voice, and you’re sure you’ve never been more turned on in your life. It might seem silly to say, but Eddie's kiss lingered the entire show and all you want is more. 
Back stage the band is still running on adrenaline, drinking water for once to try and refuel for the rest of the night. The rest of the night being a club that they frequent. A club you don’t go to because of that exact reason. 
“Ohhhhh! There's the prettiest girls I’ve ever laid eyes on!” Eddie's voice booms as security goes to double check you and Hana. “Hey! Leave them alone. They’re with me.” 
Security stands back, hands raise like he knows it’ll cause more issues if he doesn’t. You almost feel bad for the poor guy, he was just trying to do his job. Like what if you had a bomb or something? 
“C’mon we gotta get outta here.” He laces his fingers with yours before he pulls you along with him. You look over your shoulder, catching Hana's eyes. 
Go! She mouths, hanging off Gareth's arm. I’ll meet you there! 
And so, you go. Are you nervous? Yes absolutely. Are you going to pretend you aren’t and have some confidence? Yes. Fake it till you make it right?
Eddie opens the door to the car, extending a hand, “ladies first.” 
You grin at him as you elegantly slide into the car, “wow. I didn’t know you were such a gentle man.” This time when you giggle, it's cute and self assured. 
“Yes, I have been told my entire life that I look,” he slides in sucking in a soft, thinking breath, “mean and scary.” 
“You look like a doberman but they’re precious babies.” You mean it too. He looks a little mean and scary, especially in the red lights of the stage. Not to mention the “devil music” (says the media) which can get a little dark. But that’s what makes it great, in your opinion. Plus, he does look like doberman. Like he could probably kill you but would actually not? 
“‘Precious babies?’” 
You nod, “mhm! I grew up with them. Very sweet and love kisses. Oh! And they each had their own comfort toys.” 
“Then maybe I am one because I do love kisses.” He’s closer now, his breath fanning over your face. He still smells like beer and cigarettes mixed in with the smell of his cologne. 
It’s your turn to close the gap and planting your lips on his. The kiss is hotter, more intense. One could argue it’s because of the alcohol swimming in your system that makes you so bold. You’re buzzed, but not drunk. It isn’t long before his hands are in your hair, tugging. It makes you moan in his mouth, opening up to him. 
He sits back, his hands in your hair pulling you with him, making you sit in his lap. Your legs rest on either side of his hips, your cunt nestled right against the bulge in his pants. He couldn’t hide it even if he wanted to. You test the waters by rocking your hips, the friction being so sweet that you’re the one who lets out a moan. 
“God, that is the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.” He kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking as he goes. “Should record it and use it in our next song.” 
You hum and grin, “I wouldn’t mind that. Always wanted to be in a song. Can’t sing though.”  
He nips at your ear, “that’s my job baby.” 
Eddie's large hand grips your hips, stopping your movements. You want to whine, you want to protest. You were so fucking close. 
“We’ll save that for when we're back at my place.” 
You grin and kiss along his jaw, “who says I’m going back to your place?” 
“The way you were just grindin’ against my cock, angel.” He grins, “also with how you’re lookin’ at me.” 
“And how am I looking at you? Hmm?” 
“Like you want me to fuck you while your brain leaks out your cunt.” 
You shudder at the crudeness of his words. No one has ever spoken to you like that and looked like him. The car stopping in front of the club saves you from trying to come up with an answer. One you know will either be embarrassing or non-existent. 
He looks over at the paparazzi that is waiting and sighs, “are we going in together or…” 
The decision you make is quick. If you’re going to do this, even for one night, you’re going to do it together and let them talk. You give him a quick kiss, “together. Give ‘em something to talk about, yeah?” 
So, you do. 
The second you’re out of the car, cameras flash and photographers call out a mix of your name and his and you can hardly understand what they’re saying. You don’t stop to pose, letting them only photograph you and him walking hand and hand. Give them crumbs as your manager says. Once you’re in the club, not even needing to show an ID or give a name. 
From there the night happens in a blur. The band has the VIP section where bottles of expensive liquor are brought over by women dressed in a bikini. You know how much all of this costs (more than you can afford that’s for sure) but you also know that all of this is on Eddie and the bands tab. He’s told you six times. 
So you drink. And you smoke. And you watch pretty white lines disappear, most of which disappear up Eddie's nose. Of course you take videos, vlogging your night and making sure to follow all the rules that were set prior to this meeting. Taking photos to remember the night. Hana is having a blast, taking shots like it’s her job and making out with Gareth in between. Of course she takes photos with you, sitting in your lap and giggling so much the photos come out blurry. But those are your favorite kinds of photos. 
“Dance with me?” Eddie says in your ear over the music. 
You take the shot that is in your hands, “lead the way.” 
The second you’re surrounded by sweaty bodies you feel invisible. You’re sure someone has cameras on you and him but at the moment you don’t care. 
Your hips move to the music, back against Eddie's chest while his hands explore your body. His lips move against your neck, sucking a dark mark into it that you know you’ll struggle to cover later. Again, you don’t care. What you do care about is the hardness that you feel against your back. 
You spin around, grinning up at him. God he’s so fucking tall you have to tilt your head up a good bit to look at him. 
“We should get out of here,” you say as he pulls you into him. 
He smirks, “thought you weren’t coming back to my place sweetheart.” 
“Seems I told a fib. Now, I need you to take me home and fuck me like you hate me.” 
It’s all he needs before he’s grabbing you by the hand and pulling you out of the club. The car is there and he quickly pulls you into the back seat. Once those doors are closed, the window tint so dark you couldn’t see inside if you tried, his mouth his on yours. Your stomach flips and the neediness you feel coming off of him. He pulls you till you’re straddling him, legs on either side of his hips. Not really the safest but at this point, all you need is his lips on you. 
The ride to Eddie’s consists of lots of kissing, so much so that you know your lips are swollen. You don’t get to see much of Eddie’s house, too focused on getting inside the house and into his bedroom. He drags you up the stairs, your hand is his. And once you’re in his room, he has you pressed up against his bedroom door. 
“You’re so fucking hot, baby.” Eddie pushes your jacket off your shoulders while he speaks, his words going straight to your clit. Your mind can barely comprehend that Eddie Munson, the man you’ve had a crush on since they were considered an ‘underground band,’ is currently taking off your clothes. 
You do the same to him, pushing his leather jacket to the ground before tugging at the ends of his shirt and pulling it over his head. “Me? You are so beautiful.” 
He hums, popping the button on your jeans, “should we take a poll on who's prettier? Winner takes the loser on a date?” 
That makes you laugh, “sounds like a deal. But first, you need to fuck me.” 
His eyes nearly go black at that and before you can think, he’s throwing you on this bed. You land with a small oomph. You decide to take a little initiative, pulling off your boots, scooting off your pants and pulling off your top. 
Eddie watches, rapt and almost possessed, his eyes scanning your partially naked body. It’s not anything more than someone would see if you posted in a bathing suit, but you can’t help but feel nervous that he isn’t going to like you. 
He quickly puts those fears (fears he knows nothing about) to rest as he settles between your legs. His eyes don’t leave yours as he kisses up your thighs. You know there is a wet patch on your underwear and you know he can see it. You do feel embarrassed about it, but at the same time, Eddie is slightly rutting against the bed so he must like it. Right? 
You can feel your body heat as he gets closer and closer to your center. 
“Eddie, please don’t tease me.” Never have you begged a man. Typically whoever you were in bed with did the begging, much to your dislike. You were desperate for someone to take charge. Now you know why they didn’t. One bruise and they get shit from all your followers. Even if you tell them to leave these men alone. 
But Eddie? He wasn’t afraid. 
“But it’s so much fun to watch you squirm.” 
You huff, squirming exactly like he said as he sits up to pull your underwear down your legs before setting back between them. “Need you to touch me.” 
He licks a stripe up your slit, sucking on your clit as he gets to the top. The sound that falls from your lips is beautiful, sweeter than the sound you made in the car. Now Eddie really wants to put you in a song, but the jealous, primal side of him never wants someone else to be able to hear your moans. 
In fact, he doesn’t want to think about any of the other men who’ve heard you make these sounds. Murder wasn't really on his list of things he enjoyed. Bar fights? Yes. Murder? No. 
“You make the prettiest sounds, sweetheart. S’very hot.”  He slides two fingers inside you with little resistance, curling them up to hit the spongy spot inside you. The stretch feels good, your hips moving on their own, riding Eddie's fingers. 
You're close, the build up of this moment really getting closer than you originally thought. “Squeezin’ my fingers so tight, baby. Are you close?” 
You nod, afraid if you speak you’ll say something ridiculous. 
But that isn’t good enough for Eddie. “Words.” 
“V-very.” 
That was clearly the wrong thing to say because he pulls his fingers from inside you, the emptiness making you gasp, “no! No, no, no I was so close!” 
He laughs as he pushes his pants and boxers off his body. “Exactly. Want you to cum with my cock inside you.” 
You look down between your bodies and your eyes widen. He was big and you accidentally voice what you’re thinking, “fuck… not gonna fit.” 
His laugh drags your eyes back to him, his cock moving through your slick and bumping your clit. “Baby you are so wet that I have no doubt it’ll fit.”  
You don’t have time to be embarrassed about it because Eddie is pushing inside you. The size of him stretching you makes you feel like he’s going to split you in half. But you don’t care, the burn just turns you on more and more and before you know it he’s seated inside you fully. 
“Fuck, Eddie.” 
Eddie is panting, trying to keep still so he doesn’t cum before he wants to. “Feel so fuckin’ good, sweetheart. A man could become obsessed with this pussy.” 
He moves right as you begin to speak, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs. He feels like he’s everywhere. “W-witchcraft” 
He fucks you harder, his cock hitting your cervix. You’re definitely going to have a bruise there but it's so worth it. 
“Didn’t know you were into dark shit. S’my schtick.” 
You wrap your legs around him, orgasm building again, “more alike than you originally thought huh?” 
He wraps a tattooed hand around your throat, squeezing gently and making your head spin, “oh, angel, I knew how alike we were the second you told everyone how bad you wanted to fuck me.” 
“C-can you blame me? Knew you’d fuck me just h-how I like.” 
You clench around him making him hiss, “yeah you need someone who will take control huh?” 
The hand around your neck slides down your body till he finds your clit, circling it. 
“Oh god! Please.” 
“I can get used to you prayin’ to me.” His thrusts are losing rhythm (something he’s usually very good at keeping) and you know he’s close. “Cum baby. I need it.” 
And it’s all you need to fall over the cliff and into bliss. He follows you, coming inside you while you squeeze around him. You both moan each other's names and you sigh as you come down. 
Eddie breaks the silence first, “that was… amazing.” 
You hum in agreement as he slides out of you and curls up beside you. You take a moment before getting up and cleaning up in the bathroom. When you come back Eddie has left out an old Corroded Coffin t-shirt and some boxers. And once they’re on, you slide back into his bed, laying your head on his chest.
“We should put that poll up, huh? I’m itching to win this bet.” Eddie laughs as he says it and before you know it, you two are finding a photo the both of you like and posting it on your story with the caption, ‘which one is prettier? Honesty is the best policy.’ 
“And now… we wait.”
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7s3ven · 2 months
Text
MY LOVE. luke (pjo)
( master list )
IN WHICH… the half-blood campers live in a world where everybody is granted a soulmate. Everybody but the favoured child of Aphrodite, who was always destined to live a life without true love.
“My love is mine, all mine. I love mine, mine, mine. Nothing in the world belongs to me.”
( inaccurate details )
Warnings : Slight angst, not proofread (grammar mistakes)
A/N : late Valentines special… oops
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Depending on what type of person you were, the concept of soulmates were either a blessing or a curse. To Y/N L/N, it was neither because she was never given a partner. The unseeable red string tied around her left ring finger never led to anybody else. Her skin never replicated the wounds of another person. Her world was always a scope covered in bright colours instead of depressing grey hues.
To others, her lack of a soulmate was great. She was free to love whomever she wanted without having to worry about a so-called soulmate. To her, it was hell. While it was true that she could like any person she chose, she would never be their first option. She was smart and beautiful and charming but their ideal pick would always be their soulmate.
It was sad, honestly. Especially when she knew boys would like her if soulmates didn’t exist.
Even when Y/N arrived at Camp Half-Blood, she was an exception. No soulmate meant no love life in other people’s eyes so it shocked everyone when Y/N was claimed by the very person who created the idea of fated partners. Aphrodite.
Y/N was awoken by loud giggles. She cracked an eye open, staring at her siblings across from her. “Why are you all up so early?” She almost groaned. It was seven in the morning and she knew her siblings always valued their beauty sleep. “Is Elvis Presley here or something?”
“No.” Silena grinned at Y/N, her cheeks flushing a pale pink colour, “Even better. A new boy just arrived last night and rumour has it that he’s cute. Cuter than Malcom.”
Malcom was an Ares kid. Ares and Aphrodite children always got along for some reason and because their parents had a complicated love relationship, so did they.
“Malcom isn’t that good-looking. What about Ben?” Y/N retorted, kicking her blankets off.
“I think Nigel is better.” Another sibling piped up, causing the whole cabin to burst into muffled laughter.
“That’s because you’re gay, Andrew!” They all exclaimed in unison, trying not to wake the other cabins.
Y/N leaned her head against her fluffed up pillow, gazing at Silena. “So, what’s this cutie’s name?”
“Luke.” Silena immediately answered, proud of herself for remembering the new camper’s name. “He came with Grover and a little girl.”
“Annabeth.” Andrew added. Y/N quietly hummed.
“Don’t be too loud.” She muttered, “I still want to sleep.”
As the commotion amongst her siblings died down, they too went back to bed. Y/N watched as Silena traced her soulmate tattoo before lying down, gently smiling. Y/N glanced at her own wrist, imagining her own mark inked onto her skin. What was it like knowing you were destined to love someone and they were destined to love you?
It must be reassuring.
Y/N didn’t remember when she drifted off, but she did and when she opened her eyes again, the sun was seeping through the light pink curtains.
Y/N lightly sighed as she sat up, running a hand through her perfect hair. That was a peek of having Aphrodite as her mother.
“Oh, you’re finally up. We thought you were sad. Too bad you aren’t.” Drew Tanaka was as cruel as ever. She was sitting at the vanity, applying a layer of pressed powder onto her face.
“Even if I did die, Drew, Silena would be the next cabin counsellor.” Y/N nonchalantly uttered as she stood up, stretching. Drew quietly scoffed and rolled her eyes.
“At least I have a soulmate.” She grumbled.
When Drew Tanaka hit hard, Y/N L/N always made sure to hit back harder.
“Yeah? Well, at least my ‘soulmate’ doesn’t hate me because of a rumour about me sleeping with his best friend. Which, by the way, was true.” Y/N quickly snapped back, leaving Drew speechless. Y/N was never one to act out but when someone asked for it, she delivered a killing blow.
Like any normal Aphrodite daughter, Y/N took her sweet time in doing her makeup. She could feel Drew’s glare on her as she swiped a red tint across her lips.
Y/N arrived at breakfast a little late, just in time to see the new kids stumble into the pavilion. Girls turned to whisper to each other, subtly pointing at the boy and blushing.
“That’s Luke and Annabeth, right?” Y/N questioned as she took a big gulp from her golden chalice. Silena quickly nodded, glancing at Luke.
“See, I told you he was cute.”
Y/N shrugged but Silena did have a point. Luke, with his perfect side profile, sharp jawline, and pretty curled hair, was a pleasant sight for sore eyes.
Y/N was caught off-guard when Luke sat down at the Hermes table and immediately lifted his head, his gaze settling on her without hesitation. Y/N quickly looked away, glancing at her wrist like she always did in hopes a tattoo would appear by some miracle.
Drew saw her moment of weakness and instantly commented on it. “Still no soulmate, Y/N?” Silena sent her half-sister a disapproving stare.
“Yeah. I’ll just fuck yours, I guess.”
Drew’s face sank for the second time. “Stay away from Sulan.” She hissed, glancing at the Demeter boy who wanted nothing to do with Drew.
Fate always drew people together so it was no surprise that everybody in Camp Half-Blood had their soulmates in the same place. There were multiple ways you could find your soulmate, depending on your mark.
Silena had her matching tattoo. Drew had that damned red string that only she could see. And Andrew could only sed the world in black and gray until his soulmate arrived, which they hadn’t yet.
Across the pavilion, Luke lightly nudged a teen named Chris. “Who’s that?” He asked, pointing at the H/C-hIred girl who was sitting with a group of unnaturally attractive kids.
Chris laughed for a short moment. “Y/N L/N. She will eat you alive, boy.”
“Has she found her soulmate yet?”
Demigods weren’t much better than their parents. They played around until they found their soulmate and that’s when they settled down. At least, for most. Some still had flings here and there, proving that they were just like the gods.
Luke’s question causes Chris to pause. He lightly chewed the inside of his mouth before stabbing his fork into a piece of bacon. “She doesn’t have a soulmate.” He murmured.
“How come?”
“We don’t know. She’s wondering the exact same question.” Chris shrugged before going back to his breakfast, “You can talk to her if you want but she’s a little mean so be careful of that.”
Luke quietly hummed, circling his finger around the rim of his cup.
The first time Luke talked to Y/N was when he and Annabeth were separated to go on different tours. Luke ended up with Y/N, who beamed at him and crinkled her eyes.
“Hi.” She effortlessly greeted him, waving.
“Sup.” Luke choked out, his voice accidentally going up a pitch higher. He cleared his throat. “I’m Luke.”
“So I’ve heard. Y/N.”
They walked side by side in a comfortable silence until Y/N spoke again. “Where’s your third person?” She questioned. “And I’m not talking about Grover.”
Chiron had tried to keep Thalia a secret but the gossip still managed to reach Y/N’s ears.
Slowly, Luke pointed at the tree that had mysteriously appeared this morning. It guarded the barrier between the camp and the mortal world.
“He turned her into a tree.” Luke grumbled, clearly displeased.
Y/N didn’t have to question who he was. Zeus, the king of the gods and ruler of the sky, had decided to turn his only daughter into a tree.
“Yes. The gods have always been a little… questionable. Shall we continue with the tour?” Y/N guided Luke forward. She did most of the talking while he listened, or at least tried to. It was hard when an absolutely stunning girl was standing in front of him.
“And last but not least, the strawberry field. Pretty, isn’t it?” Y/N smiled as she stared at the fresh strawberries. Luke let out a small ‘yeah’ but he was still staring at her. Y/N clapped her hands together, finally bringing Luke back to reality. “That marks the end of our tour. Any questions?”
Luke shook his head.
“Great. Oh, and if you’re worried about your soulmate, they’ll show up at some point. All the new kids freak out over it. If you’re a demigod, it’s almost guaranteed that so is your soulmate.” Y/N smiled again, making Luke’s knees weak.
Where was a matching tattoo when he needed one?
“So, uh… your soulmate… what are they like?” Luke knew he was most likely overstepping a boundary when he asked that. But Y/N, used to the shame and embarrassment of not having one, merely shrugged.
“I wouldn’t know. For some reason, my mother wants me to spend my life alone.” Y/N laughed but Luke could see the pain that flashed through her eyes. The same exact agony that Luke had been experiencing after all his peers found their soulmates expect him.
“If it makes you feel better, I don’t have one either.” Luke piped up. “I guess we can be lonely together.”
Y/N carefully gazed up at him. She felt a glimmer of hope spark inside her chest but she shoved it down. She refused to get her hopes up. “Everybody has one, Luke. You do too. Maybe my mom just wanted me to play the role of Cupid.”
Y/N walked off before Luke could say anything else. Annabeth instantly replaced her. “What did you say to make her leave?” For a young kid, she sure had a sharp tongue.
“Don’t even, Annabeth.” Luke’s cheeks heated up in embarrassment. He never had a problem with getting girls to like him because of his good looks, but they never stayed. And Annabeth took every chance she could to remind him of their awkward moments.
“What did you say, though? Did you mention your pet crocodile again?”
“First of all,” Luke retorted, “It was a spider. It was not a crocodile. And someone set him free! I really liked him too. And, I only asked her about her soulmate.”
“You’re an idiot.” Annabeth deadpanned, “Why would you ask that? Can’t you see that it’s a sore topic for her?”
“Not everybody is blessed with your wits, kid.” Luke playfully ruffled Annabeth’s hair while she huffed in frustration.
She quickly swatted his hands away. “What’s if she’s your soulmate?” Annabeth blurted out. “She doesn’t have a soulmate. You don’t have one. At least, you don’t have the common signs. What if that’s your soulmate bond?”
Luke chuckled. “I don’t think it works that way.”
“Maybe not… but either way, she’s still staring at you.”
Luke had never turned his head so fast. Y/N was perched on her cabin porch, leaning against the pretty wooden railing. And just as Annabeth had said, she was looking at him.
“Soulmate bond.” Annabeth repeated in that annoying singsong voice of hers.
Even as Luke walked back to the Hermes building, he couldn’t shake Annabeth’s words. Was Y/N really his soulmate? The person he had spent his entire life searching for?
Maybe. Standing next to her just felt so… right. He knew the moment he saw Y/N step out of her cabin that she’d have his unwavering attention.
Months passed by like seconds and years passed like days. Luke found himself becoming an expert at wielding a sword and not even Clarisse could disarm him. Y/N never bothered to try, always wanting to keep her appearance pristine under the hot sun.
“Do you ever get bored just lying around?” Luke questioned as he stood in front of Y/N. She was lying down under a large tree, enjoying the cool shade.
“No.” Y/N answered, closing her eyes. “I just don’t find it fun swinging around a sword in the hot sun.” The heat from the large star was unbearable during summer. Y/N hated the feeling of her clothes sticking to her skin so she was commonly found under trees during the hottest season.
“Why not try swinging around a sword at night? It’s cooler at that time.”
“I’m good.” Y/N truely was a daughter of Aphrodite, caring about her appearance above all else.
“I heard Silena found her soulmate.” Luke uttered as he sat down, keeping his distance in case Y/N didn’t appreciate his company. But she said nothing so he assumed it was fine.
“Yeah. At least he’s nice. I’d hate for her to have an annoying soulmate.” Y/N laughed yet that familiar look of envy and sadness flashed across her eyes. Y/N did well in concealing her facial expressions but her gaze never lied.
Luke and Y/N were seventeen now, almost eighteen. They had known each other for years and Luke had managed to notice some of Y/N’s subtle habits.
He also knew her opinion on soulmates. She craved for one and found the courage to despise her mother for her lack love. She prayed for one when offering a sacrifice. She dreamed of finding her other half and every time she woke up, she was disappointed that it wasn’t a reality.
Y/N knew there was more to life than relationships but why didn’t she have a soulmate? That was a query only Aphrodite herself could answer.
“Still no soulmate for you I suppose?” Y/N asked, glancing at Luke who shook his head.
“The main reason I was looking for you was because I had some sort of… theory.”
Y/N raised her eyebrows, suddenly curious. She gestured for Luke to continue.
“I don’t have a soulmate mark. You don’t have one either. What if, in a way, our lack of soulmate marks is our bond? If that makes sense.” Luke almost stumbled over his own words, suddenly feeling far too nervous.
“You think… I’m your soulmate?” Those words felt foreign as they slipped past Y/N’s lips. She was staring at Luke in slightly disbelief. “I don’t know, Luke. Maybe we just don’t have soulmates.” Y/N chuckled at the end of her sentence.
Luke’s breath nervously shuddered. “Okay… so if we don’t have soulmates then I can like anybody I want?”
“Technically, yeah.” Y/N aimlessly shrugged.
“Then I chose you.”
Y/N stared at him with her eyebrows furrowed. “What? Why me?”
“Because why not? I’m not taking pity on you, Y/N. I genuinely like you. As more than just a friend. The moment I saw you, I knew that if I had a soulmate, I would want it to be you. We can take it slow if you want. I don’t care as long as I’m with you.”
Y/N could only muster up a nod, still in shock.
She didn’t know what she was expecting to happen after her indirect acceptation to his confession but finding a small bouquet of roses on her bed was not what she had in mind.
“Oh, those are pretty. Who are those from?” Silena was at Y/N’s side in an instance, curious to see the flowers.
“Luke.” Y/N muttered as she flipped over the card, staring at the messy handwriting that was undeniably Luke’s.
“So my manifestation did work!” Silena exclaimed, happily clapping her hands together. “I’ve been shipping you guys since, like, forever! And I knew you wouldn’t make a move so I manifested Luke to.” Silena proudly beamed as she rocked back in forth on her heels, “I’m so happy for you two!”
Drew, on the other hand, was not.
“Cute pity bouquet, Y/N.” The ravenette said as she waltzed into the cabin.
“I will slap you with the thorns.” Y/N fired back.
At dinner, Y/N ended up sandwiched between Silena and Drew. For two girls who seemingly hated each other, Y/N and Drew sure spent a lot of time together.
“Here comes your lover boy.” Silena teased as she watched Luke guide a new camper towards the Hermes table. Y/N wasn’t sure if she should stare or look away but Luke was already locking eyes with her, smiling so widely that you’d think his deepest wish just came true.
“He’s not your soulmate.” Drew uttered.
“I know. We don’t all have to follow the rules of soulmates, do we? You should know that better than anyone else.”
Drew scoffed, angrily stabbing her fork into a piece of meat.
Y/N didn’t eat much. Her stomach felt too queasy whenever Luke so much as glanced at her. Was she nervous? Her leg was continuously bouncing up and down so she must be.
She left the pavilion early, expecting Luke to follow after her and feeling proud of her guess when he did. “Did you like the flowers?” He asked, tilting his head to the side.
“Of course.” Y/N answered.
“I really like you, Y/N. Please, just give me a chance. Who cares about soulmates? You may as well be mine.” Luke engulfed Y/N into a tight hug, his hands resting at her waist and refusing to let go.
“I don’t know, Luke.” She whispered. She had spent so much time alone in the dark that she forgot what love even felt like. Was it the butterflies in her stomach? Or perhaps the loud pounding of her heart? Or maybe her cheeks that were flushed a bright pink hue under the moonlight?
All her worries seemed to effortlessly melt away as Luke suddenly kissed her. He stepped back just as quickly but Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him towards her again.
She wasn’t sure what was happening but she could feel small beads of tears roll down her cheeks.
“Why are you crying, pretty?” Luke asked, furrowing his eyebrows in concern. Y/N swiftly wiped her tears away. As stupid and it sounded, that was her first kiss. And it was the first time someone showed a genuine interest in her, someone without a soulmate.
“If we do this, Luke… you have to promise not to leave me too quickly.” Y/N whispered so that only he could hear her voice.
“I don’t want my soulmate, if they even exist, Y/N. I want you.”
Those words echoed in Y/N’s head. I want you. Those three simple words set off fireworks in Y/N’s stomach. She felt her heart skip a beat.
She really shouldn’t have indulged in her own feelings when Luke might have a soulmate of his own but she couldn’t resist him when he was looking at her with those puppy dog eyes.
After that fated night, Luke rarely left Y/N’s side. He seemed to be attached at her hip and even when Clarisse laughed at him, he ignored her. Y/N was happy for a while.
It was the new girl that caused her fragile relationship with Luke to shatter into pieces. She really should have seen all this coming. She always noticed the bruises that lingered on Luke’s skin. Bruises that weren’t his but ones he simply brushed off as small injuries from all his hard training.
Y/N was the first to walk out of her cabin and, by default, that meant she would be showing the new camper around.
She had arrived early in the morning and while she was supposed to be resting in the infirmary, Y/N found her under the tree she usually sat at.
“You should be resting.” Y/N uttered. She could only see one side of the girl’s face but nevertheless, she was still pretty. Dyed blonde hair with heavy bangs framing her delicate and pale face and light grey eyes that nervously shifted from the ground to Y/N.
“They kept pestering me about my scar.” She mumbled, refusing to show Y/N her full face. “It’s my soulmate mark but they kept saying it wasn’t. Apparently… my soulmate has already found someone.”
She finally turned her head to reveal the scar. It was a jagged line, perfectly mimicking Luke’s. Y/N stiffened as the dread began to set in. She felt like she was going to collapse. Luke always preached about choosing Y/N over fate but would he do so now that his soulmate was here?
“Right.” Y/N choked out. “Well, let me show you around first.” It took all her energy to hide her true feelings. She didn’t want this girl to know that she was slowly but surely cracking under the pressure.
“I’m Lila, by the way.” The blonde muttered, fidgeting with her fingers.
“Y/N.”
As usual, she saved the strawberry fields for last. Lila seemed impressed by the big, red berries that the Demeter kids had grown. “One last stop.” Y/N said as she led Lila to a certain cabin. She knew she would come to regret this but the matching scars weren’t exactly subtle.
Y/N knocked on the door and just as she hoped, yet dreaded, Luke answered. “Hey.” He grinned widely at her as he leaned against the door frame.
“Someone’s here for you.” Y/N stepped aside to reveal Lila. Luke paused before he chuckled.
“This is a joke, right? Y/N?”
But she was already walking, more like jogging, away.
Y/N watched from afar as Luke conversed with the girl who had the identical scar to his. It trailed over the same eye too and it wouldn’t take a genius to realize what that meant. Luke had finally met his soulmate.
And Y/N was alone. Again.
The favourite child of Aphrodite. The golden star. The beautiful role model.
She was always destined to spend her life alone and perhaps she should have fully accepted that instead of falling in love with Luke, someone she couldn’t have no matter how hard she tried.
She ended up skipping breakfast and merely sitting in front of the vanity mirror, soullessly staring at her reflection. She wanted nothing more than for an ugly scar to taint her pretty face just so she could claim Luke as her soulmate.
She traced a faint line over her eye with light brown eyebrow and imagined that it matched with Luke’s. That, in another life, she could finally call someone hers.
The cabin door opened. Y/N didn’t have enough time to wipe the eyeshadow scar off before Drew walked in. The black-haired girl made an immediate beeline for her half-sister. Y/N thought Drew was going to taunt her as usual but she was shocked when the cruel girl hugged her instead.
“Soulmate or not,” Drew whispered, “He should choose you.”
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joshlmbrt · 1 month
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Hey! I came across your account recently so I would like to make a request where Eddie and reader are secretly dating because he says he doesn't want to ruin her reputation (she's not a cheerleader or very popular, but still) but some people are starting to suspect you two, then Eddie starts bullying you so no one can continue talking about it, but there's a catch, he does it without warning you. So one minute you're in his locker and the next he's humiliating you in front of everyone, but that only increases the rumors, because everyone starts saying that not even the school freak wants you. If u dont like ignore me pls 😭
thank u so much for this request, i absolutely LOVE this type of request:p. i hope i do it justice and i apologize for it taking so long! w; secret relationship, angst!
eddie gets nervous when dustin brings something up about you - a fidgety nervous.
then eddie gets nervous when steve brings you up at a hang out you were at since you were robin and steve’s best friend - this time it’s a sweaty nervous.
he’s beginning to suspect that people realize that you both are dating and he doesn’t want your name run through the dirt just because you decided to fall in love with him.
so he does what he does best - try to ‘distract’.
you stumble when you feel a shoulder bump into yours, brows furrowing as you quickly lift your head up. you see a mess of curls and a leather jacket. you can hear other people around laugh when they notice the look on your face - confused and slightly hurt.
it was never your idea to keep the relationship a secret, it was eddie’s. you never understood why he wanted to keep it a secret - he never elaborated on the why.
it was probably only an accident, is what you think. until it happens more through the week. and you couldn’t even ask him about it because he had kept pushing you away, ignoring you.
week three was worse.
a feeling of dread heavy on your shoulders as soon as you stepped into the chilly building, fingers gripped around the strap of your bag.
robin meets up with you, a sympathetic look on her face. “did you sleep any last night?”
you give her a look. “what do you think?”
judging by the bags under your eyes, she thinks you did not. she looks away.
“sorry,” you say softly, stopping by your locker. she stops next to you, giving you a worried look. “i’ve just… i’ve never been bullied, over looked maybe, but never bullied. and i’ve never bullied others. and eddie’s my-” you pause, hand gripping the chipped locker.
robin tilts her head. “your what?”
you lower your voice. “my boyfriend.”
her eyes widen comically wide as she gasps. “what?!” you’re quick to shush her. “sorry. when did this happen? how come we never knew?”
“6 months ago,” your eyes cut over her shoulders. “and he didn’t want… anyone to know. i don’t know why, i don’t have any problem with people knowing. but i wanted to respect his wishes.”
her brows pinch together in confusion. “why would…”
“your guess is as good as mine,” you turn back to look in your locker when a group of friends pass, eyes cutting over to you before giggling, a couple of whispers shared. “and i can’t talk to him because he’s been ignoring my phone calls and hasn’t been coming over for our usual saturday movie nights.”
she frowns a bit, head turning just in time to notice the boy, eyes narrowing at him. he peeks up before quickly looking away, noticing her stare.
she knows.
maybe lunch time he went a bit to far.
went a bit to far by knocking your lunch over your chest on accident.
conversations are stopped. eyes are on you both. and there’s tears welling up in your eyes as you stare at the tray and food spread over the floor.
dustin, mike, and lucas are staring at you, a worried expression on their faces.
jason is the first to burst out into laughter. a shrill thing that makes the hairs on your arms stand.
soon, everyone joins in. thats when the first of many tears slip from your eyes.
“i hate you.” it slips before you can catch yourself and its raw with emotion, the words getting choked up on as you watch his face fall.
you turn away, wiping at your cheeks with the back of your hand furiously, head down. the heavy door closes behind you when you walk out.
you can hear the door open and close again, your name being yelled. you keep walking because you know who it is, and eddie is the last person you want to speak to right now.
a hand wraps around your bicep, turning you around. “hey… i’m-i’m sorry. i-” you flinch away from his palms when he tries to reach up to wipe away the tears.
“no. don’t… don’t touch me,” you step back, shaking your head. his shoulders slump and he stares at you. he didn’t know what he expected - especially after three weeks of torturing you. “why are you being so mean to me?”
his heart breaks when he hears the crack in your whispered voice. he thinks you probably didn’t want him to hear the question, but he did.
his eyes cut down to the cracked concrete, shifting the weight on his feet. “i just… i didn’t think people would actually join in with me,” he winces at the excuse. “i didn’t want people to know we were dating.”
“why? because you’re embarrassed of me or what? because this makes no sense, eddie.”
“no! no, i’m not- i’m not embarrassed of you. you would’ve been embarrassed of me.”
“well, thank you for making that decision because bullying me totally makes me believe that,” you shake your head. “you’re unbelievable, eddie.”
“what?”
“you could’ve talked to me about it instead of making me hate coming to school everyday. i’ve never felt that way, worried about what was going to happen next, but now i do. i worry about what someone is going to leave in my locker again and hide in the bathroom because of you.”
“someone’s leaving things in your locker?”
“don’t act like you care, because you don’t,” you snap. “in fact, don’t talk to me anymore. don’t look in my direction. i don’t want to see you or talk to you.”
his mouth opens but you shake your head, letting him know that whatever he was going to say, you wouldn’t change your mind.
“bye, eddie.”
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