#Truly life is like a hurricane with kids like these | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sydnikov · 2 months

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Being Bold || S. Jarvis

Author: Sydney / @sydnikov

Pairing: Seth Jarvis / fem!Reader

Word Count: 7.4k

Summary: Seth has a crush on you. A bad one, and he makes it very obvious throughout the years he’s known you, though you’ve still never taken him seriously because of his immaturity and energetic personality. Much to his chagrin, you keep denying him—until one night, scorned by thoughts of your most recent ex who never knew how to touch you right, you give in to Seth’s advances.

Warnings: 18+ smut, unprotected p in v (birth control usage), oral (f receiving), very slight age gap (reader is 2 years older), alcohol mention, alcoholic consumption, minor mention of violence including blood, cursing

A/N: Wow. This one is something (it’s just smut with a small bit of plot don’t mind my dramatics). Here’s the jarvy debauchery as promised ✨ until the next, thanks for the support as always!

*Minors, you are responsible for your own media consumption. That being said, I will not block you for interacting with this fic or my blog, but always be aware of the content you choose to consume and the consequences it can have.

You’ve only seen Seth Jarvis as a kid.

Well, maybe ‘kid’ is too strong of a word to describe the immaturity gap. You’re only two years older than him, but it’s just that how he acts gives you the impression of a boy.

Not a man, but a boy. And it drives Seth absolutely insane.

He first meets you the year he joins the Hurricanes because you’re friends with the social media director (he later finds out you’re close to Lottie, Jesperi’s girlfriend, as well). He remembers the night vividly, what you were wearing, how soft your hand felt against the calluses on his own. How you looked at him, amusement and softness in the smile you flashed him.

Seth was smitten. Still is, actually, because you’re around more than ever. He sees you everywhere. After games, and even just around Raleigh because you live in the area.

He tries asking you out. Numerous times, but much to his chagrin you always turn him down.

“We just met, Seth.” A week after you first shake his hand.

“Don’t you have a girlfriend?” Well, he did. But, in his defense, he’d just broken up with her after he moved.

“I’m too old for you.” That one hurt, because that’s when he finds out you’re only two years older.

Seth is nothing if not persistent, though. He doesn’t give up even after all the rejections. He’s also pretty sure your reluctance is because you think he’s never touched a woman in his life.

Presumptuous, right? Andrei thinks so when Seth tells him after playing Call of Duty for several hours, but he recounts a conversation you had with Lottie (he still owes her and Jesperi a drink for that, actually) after Seth begged her to slide a good word in.

“You’re not into the mustache?” Lottie had giggled, taking a sip of her martini.

You were drinking a whiskey sour, which he knows because he bought it for you but had Lottie say it was from her. Your face burned red, either because of the alcohol or the question, he doesn’t know.

“No, no,” You laughed. “I like mustaches. And a nice stubble. They feel good on the thighs.”

“So what’s the problem? He’s in love with you, basically.”

“Isn’t he, like, I don’t know… Nineteen?” You had drawled, faking indifference while mixing around the olive in your drink with the little straw it came with.

“He’s twenty-two, babe.” She smirked. “Only two years younger.”

Lottie says she thinks you’re just wary of his immaturity. When he tries defending himself, Jesperi reminds him that he scored a goal the other night, pointed at you behind the glass where you sat with Lottie, and then proceeded to griddy.

Word on the street is that you weren’t impressed.

Nonetheless, Seth can’t change his personality for you, as much as he considers it. He thinks the sun rises and sets on you, but if you truly think you’re too good for him then he does have enough self respect to walk away and get over it.

But… He just doesn’t think that’s the case, here. You only seem reluctant—that’s it.

“You can’t force her to sleep with you, Jarvy.” Andrei tells him, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“I know.” He groans, his chin falling into his hand. “What do I do, then?” And truly, he’s run out of ideas. He’s played silly, nice, gentleman… What else is there left for him to do, other than give up?

Seth thinks of your radiant smile, then groans to himself because fuck. He really doesn’t want to give up.

“Give her space?” Andrei suggests. “Have you tried, just… Going away?” He frowns for a moment, trying to think of the right words in English. “Not ‘going away’—”

“Space? You think she just needs space?”

“Well, not too much space—”

“Svechy you're a genius.” Seth interrupts, jumping out of his seat with renown vigor. “I’ll buy you a drink for this, remind me!” And then he’s springing up from the couch, grabbing his keys and sprinting out the front door.

Andrei blinks. Once, twice, then shakes his head with a laugh. He feels like he should warn you, then promptly decides this is not something he wants to get in the middle of.

Seth takes his teammate’s advice to heart, and gives you the space he thinks you need to process his zealous pursuit of you. He can tell it catches you off guard because he’s stopped following you around like a lost puppy, along with all of the antics normally associated with his creative flirting.

In fact, it’s such a sudden change from what you’re used to that it freaks you out. Hurts a little bit, too, because did he just wake up one day disgusted by the thought of you?

You tell yourself you’re disturbed because you miss the attention. It’s been a while since you’ve had a guy foam at the mouth for you, after all, so now that it’s gone you’re just going through withdrawals.

It’s more than that, though, and you won’t admit it to yourself but when you spy him chatting it up with other girls your stomach twists in a way that you know screams trouble.

Maybe it’s because you just ended things with your latest boyfriend - a bore of a man who couldn’t make time for you outside of his work - and the vulnerability of being alone yet again is getting to you.

Is Seth really so bad? You think about him sometimes, when you’re alone in your apartment or even right in front of him. You’ve always had a soft spot for him, sure, but nothing more than friendly affection.

You’re questioning this now, when his attention is no longer being directed at you, because you distinctly remember him getting into a fight with some other player on the ice, and that’s the first time you remember thinking man and not boy.

The team it was against escapes you, but you remember someone getting in Sebastian’s space with a raised arm, and then Seth came flying in with a fist to the opposing player’s face and a lot of colorful words. Your jaw had dropped as the referees tore them apart, his hair dripping with sweat and a cut welling with blood dripping down his forehead.

The moment forces you to think that maybe altogether, his energetic personality, a smile that never leaves his face, and the unwavering loyalty for his friends combined isn’t such a bad thing after all. The revelation leaves you shaking and feeling quite awkward when he’s around, or even just being brought up.

“Do you miss Scott?” Lottie asks you one day when you’re out for lunch at Perry’s - a steakhouse near her apartment in North Hills - referring to your aforementioned ex-boyfriend. Even his name is boring.

You laugh a little, unable to not roll your eyes though your ire isn’t directed at her. “No. I knew it wasn’t going to last when I got into it, anyways.”

“It’s been about two weeks since you broke up with him.” She says, a statement rather than a question. The look on her face tells you she’s trying to go somewhere with this. “Has anyone caught your eye lately? You’re too pretty to be single, you know.”

It’s obvious that Lottie is trying to ask if you’ve reconsidered Seth at all. It’s been the talk of your whole friend group, including the guys, that he’s suddenly stopped in his bold pursuit of you, though none of them think it’s because he’s lost interest.

“I don’t know.” You whine, begrudgingly stabbing a piece of potato with your fork. “I mean, he’s… Seth.”

“Seth, who has spent his entire time on the Hurricanes trying to win you over?” She says with a raised brow. “Just because he’s had his fun doesn’t mean he’s a bad guy.”

You don’t have a response to that, so instead you just nod. She is right, as much as you hate to admit it. Seth is a successful professional hockey player in his prime, of course he’s been with his fair share of women and will continue to do so as long as he’s single.

If that was your case you’d certainly be having fun, too.

“If his casualness towards dating really bothers you, you should just talk to him.” Lottie says after a moment. “He’s dying for you to speak to him, I swear it.”

You concede. “I’ll talk to him the next time I see him.”

Fortunately for you, that ‘next time’ doesn’t happen for quite a few more weeks, and when you do finally run into him again it’s when you’re slightly tipsy, drinking at a bar near to PNC Arena after the boys have won a game.

You don’t even take note of his presence at first, in the middle of gossiping with some of your friends who just so happen to know the players.

The gossip? Your ex-boyfriend, Scott, and his inability to make you come.

“I mean, he wasn’t bad or anything.” You say. “He had all the knowledge and stuff, just, like, couldn’t do anything. Y’know?” You’re slurring your words a little bit, but everyone around you nods like you’re making some big, important speech.

“So did you have to fake it?” Someone asks. You can’t even remember how Scott was brought up in the first place.

You giggle; you can’t help it. “Oh my god, yes, sometimes it was so bad I had to say I was cramping just to get him to stop trying.” That sends everyone into boisterous laughter, and in your slight drunkenness you can’t help but join in.

The song changes then, and it must be one everyone knows because it scatters you and the rest of the girls into smaller groups, some running to the dance floor while others wander back to the bar. You stay seated, however, content to watch as you sip your drink.

“Whiskey sour?” That’s when Seth makes his presence known. His voice murmured in your ear catches you off guard, and you jump a little as you turn to face him. “Seth.” You greet, not unkindly. “Yeah, but it’s only my second.”

Just as soon as he appeared, he’s jumping back up from his seat next to you. “I’ll get you a third.” You don’t have time to protest as he disappears, and your affection for this rambunctious man only continues to grow as he bounds back moments later, sliding you your drink with a smug grin.

“Thank you.” You smile, a little shy, a little bashful, as you take your first sip. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Anything for my girl.” Ah, there it is. You’re unable to hide the obvious roll of your eyes, but Seth’s smile doesn’t waver. “Not your girl, Seth. Just got out of a relationship, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” He says. “Scott, right? Sounds like that was doomed from the start.”

You narrow your eyes, unsure of the knowing tone he’s taken on. “And how would you know?”

“He couldn’t make you come, yeah? What a tool.”

Suddenly, your throat is very dry, and you’re taking a very large sip of whiskey that has you wincing. So… He heard you say that, then. Is it hot in here? You have the sudden urge to fan yourself. Fuck fuck fuck. Seth, of all people, should not be making your thighs clench.

You don’t realize how silent you’ve gotten until he speaks up again. “I could make you, you know.”

That has you choking, and you quickly throw back the rest of your drink to soothe your throat. “What?” When you finally meet Seth’s eyes, he’s still grinning at you, though it’s more carnal. His eyes darken as he responds.

“Come. I could get you to come so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk the next day.”

Your reply is meek, knowing deep down inside you’re fighting a losing battle. “Have you even touched a girl before?” He scoffs, and you know as well as he does that he’s been with his fair share of women. It’s one of the reasons you’re so hesitant to take him seriously.

Seth is undeterred, though, as he slides even closer to you. You stare straight ahead, determined not to meet his eyes even though you’re positive there’s a red flush creeping up your neck as his breath tickles your ear.

He says your name, a low purr that’s almost mocking like he can see right through your bullshit because finally, he’s breaking through to you. “You know I have. None of them are you, though.”

You squirm in your seat as his hand creeps up your shoulders, grasping the back of your neck as he gently turns your head to face him. He squeezes reassuringly, and now you’re melting into his embrace as a gasp falls from your lips.

“I want you. You know that, baby.”

“Seth…”

“Let me show you, please?” Then those warm eyes are bearing into your own, and now you’re getting a glimpse of the boy you first met all over again. This time, though, instead of feeling innocent affection all you feel now is heat.

You were stupid to think the adoration he never hesitates to show for you wouldn’t win you over eventually.

Blinking owlishly, you move one of your hands to grip his arm, looking so dainty against the rugged muscle under his skin, and, well. You cave.

“Okay.”

Seth doesn’t expect you to give in so easily. He freezes, doesn’t move until you gain your wits back and pinch his thigh with a gentle roll of your eyes. “Are you just going to sit there or should I find someone else to entertain me?”

That gets him moving. It’s his turn to look anxious as he runs a hand through his hair, still processing the fact that he didn’t have to convince you more. He wasn’t actually expecting to get this far with you—quite literally, the woman of his dreams.

“Shit, okay.” He laughs, jumping out of his seat and lacing his fingers with yours. “You’re serious, then.”

“Somehow.” You deadpan. Somehow your legs are still clenching and your heart is beating a little too fast to be normal. “Don’t fuck it up.”

He looks to you, a little terrified, and you can’t help but break the irritated front and send him a small smile, squeezing his hand reassuringly even as your words are all snark. Truthfully, you’re also scared, but not of the sex, but rather the developing feelings that might grow deeper afterwards.

You just got out of yet another disappointing relationship. You don’t want whatever this is with Seth to end with the same result.

He does a good job of distracting you from your destructive thoughts, though, as he pulls you out of the bar like two teenagers trying to sneak away from their parents. You suppose it’s not unlike that same feeling because Jesperi catches your eye as you exit the doors, and he sends you such a shit-eating grin it has you ducking your head to avoid his obnoxious stare.

You suppose you do owe him a favor now after all.

For the first time ever, standing outside in the biting cold, Seth kisses you as you’re waiting for an Uber. You being busy trying to look like you’re not about to go hook up, he suddenly grabs you by the waist and smooths his lips against yours so good your toes curl.

“Fuck.” He murmurs into your mouth. “I can’t get enough of you.” His teeth catch your bottom lip, and you unabashedly moan. You run your hands up his chest, around his shoulders, and to the back of his neck where you card your fingers through thick strands of hair, tugging from the roots.

“Seth…” You gasp when he detaches his lips from your own only for him to smooth down your jawline, then down to your neck where he sucks wet kisses into your sensitive skin. “Fuck, we’re in public.” With a hiss, you pull him away from your neck and pointedly ignore the wetness in your panties when he groans at the loss of contact.

He looks at you like a baby getting its favorite toy taken away, and you can’t ignore how his desperation turns you on wildly. It takes everything in you to not let him go back to feasting on your neck.

“When’s the Uber getting here?” You ask after a moment. You’re both panting, tipsy from the taste of each other’s lips as you try to catch your breath.

Seth pulls out his phone, and as you admire the way the light illuminates his face you completely miss the words coming from his mouth.

You flush. “Say that again?” Seth grins wickedly, brings you in by the back of your neck and kisses you, then pulls away too soon for your liking. “The Uber. It’s right here.” He then wraps an arm around your waist, digging his fingers deliciously into your skin, and leads you into the Uber as it arrives right on time.

He rattles off his address to the driver, then settles back into the seats. His arm snakes around your shoulders, and you hum your appreciation as you sink into his chest. You feel him kiss the top of your head in response.

You could fall asleep, if you really wanted to. The sudden switch in mood from carnal desperation to gentle affection would give you whiplash if you weren’t so at ease resting against him like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

The drive passes fairly quickly, and Seth doesn’t stop touching you as you make your way up the elevator to his apartment. His hand sneaks to your ass, giving it a squeeze before you slap his arm away.

“Cameras!” You hiss, though it’s with little mirth as a small smile curves up your lips. Seth merely laughs, slides his hand back down to rest on your lower back. “They don’t care. Now c’mere.”

You make out until you can’t breathe, and as you pull away it’s just in time as the elevator doors open. Your heart rate picks up, and you hide your nerves as he grabs your hand and practically sprints out of the elevator with you.

“We have all night, you know.” You giggle, absentmindedly rubbing your thumb over the top of his hand. Seth groans playfully, but his words strike you as serious even as he masks it with a grin.

“Not long enough, babe.”

You don’t respond, partly because you don’t know how to and partly because he’s just unlocked his door, and you’re too busy taking in his apartment. You’ve been to Andrei’s house numerous times, Jesperi and Lottie's apartment, Jordan’s for his famous house parties… It’s just now that you’re realizing you don’t actually know Seth all that well.

What you do know, though, is that he’s eyeing you like he can’t wait to devour you, and the reminder that you don’t even know his favorite color exits your mind as you sidle up to his chest, grabbing him by the lapels of his suit to drag his lips down to yours.

“Time to impress me, lover boy.” You hum into his mouth, fighting a shiver when he nips at your bottom lip. Seth chuckles, one of his hands sliding down your back to squeeze your ass, the other tugging your hair back to expose your neck.

He kisses your cheek once, twice, mouths at your collarbone with teasing bites that have your eyes fluttering shut, and then it’s like he loses patience as suddenly his hands are picking you up by your thighs and curling your legs around his waist.

You squeak in surprise. “Seth!” You admonish, because of course it turns you on that he’s able to throw you around effortlessly. He seems to have that effect on you.

Seth maneuvers the two of you through his darkened apartment with ease, knowing the route to his bedroom like the back of his hand. Your attempts at distracting him include sucking a bright red hickey on his neck, fully intending it for it to be bright enough that his teammates give him hell for it the next day.

Once he pushes open the door with his foot, he brings you to the foot of his bed and unceremoniously drops you. You scoff with indignation at his manhandling, though you know he knows you like it if the smirk on his face is anything to go by.

A tiger stalking its prey, Seth crawls on top of you and meets your eager lips in another kiss. His hands smooth down the curves of your hips to your thighs, slowly spreading them open. He mumbles something, and you miss it completely.

“Hm?” You run your hands through his hair, enjoying the way the black strands are moussed from your touch. Your shirt is also already halfway up your torso as he helps you tear it off. “I said I’ll wear your marks proudly. My girl.” He coos, flicking open the clasp of your bra and immediately moving down to your chest.

“Fuck.” He groans. “They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.” Your laugh quickly turns to a gasp as he sucks your right nipple into his mouth.

Your other nipple is taken by his fore-finger and thumb, rolling the sensitive nub between the calloused pads. Between him sucking on one tit and playing with the other, you’re practically a whimpering mess, trying to simultaneously wiggle out of his grip yet get closer at the same time.

“Seth,” You whine. “I need you.” You’re admitting it openly, foregoing coyness in favor of your own pleasure. Yeah, so what? You like this overgrown puppy of a man, and you really want to fuck him. Pulling his head back by his hair, you eagerly slam your lips back together.

“Need me?” He grins against your lips. “Where do you need me? Gotta be specific, babe, because I can be here,” He emphasizes a quick squeeze to your tit. “Here,” The other hand smooths over your ass. “Or here...” He trails off into a low rumble, parting your eager thighs.

Based on the tortured groan he lets out, you assume he can probably feel the wetness that’s soaked through your jeans. You’re too turned on to be embarrassed, though.

“Damn it, Seth, just touch me.” You hiss, keeping his hand pressed between your thighs while the other is already working open the button of your jeans. “Fucking tease.” You mutter, though it’s light-hearted and he knows it based on his snicker.

He helps you peel off the rest of your jeans, throwing them somewhere behind you. It’ll be fun trying to hunt for those in the morning. When he sees the dainty white lace covering your pussy, he lets out his most needy sound yet.

“Shit.” He breathes. “Wore these for me? So pretty. My pretty baby.” He murmurs as he thumbs the lace, running two fingers over the soaked fabric. If you could see, you’d guarantee his pupils are blown wide.

Your hips rise at the friction, wanting more. And because you’re still hellbent on resisting him, apparently, you roll your eyes, spitting out your next words. “You knew I was coming home with you, didn’t you? Asshole.” Though your words are all snark, your tone screams laughter.

Strangely enough, the banter gets you off more than any dirty talk in the world. It’s familiar, relaxing, and Seth clearly doesn’t mind either as he merely chuckles. “I just know you that well, don't I?” The look on his face offers no room for argument.

And, well, you suppose he isn’t wrong. You are here in his bed at the end of the day, right?

You grumble something that to his ears sounds like ‘shut up’ and then you’re sliding your panties down your thighs, letting him take care of the rest as, like your other clothes, he tosses them somewhere behind him.

If you thought the sight of your covered pussy would get the best reaction from him, it’s nothing compared to the way his entire body freezes at seeing it bare.

You’d had a feeling something big was going to happen after Lottie's sly words, so you took the liberty of shaving everywhere just two nights before. You’re glad for that, as Seth is looking at the heat between your legs like he doesn’t know where to start.

Teasing him in a normal setting about not knowing how to touch a woman is one thing, but making a remark now as anxious anticipation is all over his face just feels wrong.

You do like him, after all—quite a bit, you’re coming to find.

Reaching out your hand, you wait for him to grasp it before you pull him down to hover over your awaiting form. “C’mere, baby.” The pet-name slips without thought, but you can’t make yourself regret it because the way his face lights up is a look you won’t forget any time soon.

He laughs a little as your eyes finally meet, like he can’t believe he’s actually about to fuck you and you’re going to let him. “Tell me how to touch you?” He asks, not a demand but more of a request.

Taking his right hand, you lead him down the length of your body, over your breasts and down your stomach until your hands are resting just below your navel. “You know how to find the clit?” You tease, partly joking and partly serious.

Seth scoffs like the very thought offends him, and the mild dig does its job of making him forget his earlier nervousness.

“Of course I know where the fucking clit is,” He replies, pointer and middle finger already sliding down and gathering the slickness lathered in your lower lips. “Scott is such a dumbass.”

Well, it seems the familiar, cocky Seth is back now.

“...didn’t even realize what a bombshell he had right in front of him.” You miss the first part of his sentence because he did, in fact, find your clit, and unlike your ex, knows exactly how to touch it.

Your mouth opens into an ‘o’, and Seth hums a pleased noise as his fingers work your sensitive clit into a swollen, throbbing mess. Your hips move in time with the flicks of his fingers and you don’t even realize you’re panting until Seth leans forward and licks a stripe all the way from your navel down to your soaked opening.

When you start bucking into his mouth, he grabs your hips and holds them down to the bed, forcing you to take it. You whine, hands finding purchase in his hair as his tongue laps at you like you’re his favorite meal. He dips into your entrance in time with the quick circles he’s drawing over your clit, and oh, suddenly you’re much closer than you thought.

“Tastes so good.” You hear him grunt. “Can’t get enough of you.”

“Seth,” Gasping, you can’t decide if you want to keep him close or shove him away. “Shit. Seth, fuck, I’m close.”

“Yeah? Already?” Your confession only seems to reinvigorate his efforts, and the next thing you know two long fingers are sliding their way into your cunt. “Gonna come for me?”

Quicker than you expect he finds the sensitive wall of flesh inside you, and his fingers curl up against it which sends you keening. Loudly. You slap a hand over your mouth, but Seth quickly tears it away.

“Nobody here but me and you.” He grins, and just to rub it in, presses a hot kiss to your clit. “I wanna hear you scream.”

“What a gentleman.” You manage to squeeze out, and in revenge for your snark he immediately sucks your clit between his lips and rapidly curls his fingers inside you.

Seth watches with hooded eyes as your own squeeze shut, teeth biting into your kiss-swollen lips while your hands tug at his hair. Your thighs are shaking on each side of his head, and suddenly he wants you to come for him like his life depends on it.

“You gonna come?” He asks. Your walls clamp around his fingers and he knows you’re close. “Yeah? Can you come for me? I know you want to.”

Your entire body shakes all while he keeps you tethered to the bed. Your mind, though, is floating, and you can practically see white as his lips don’t stop sucking, his fingers don’t stop curling, and it’s too much but also not enough and you want to shove him away yet demand he never stops touching you.

And your high is right there, you can practically taste it, but your body is wound so tight and you can’t remember the last time you’ve let go that you remain stuck right on the edge.

There are tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as you tug at his hair. Seth meets your eyes, looks a little concerned after reading the desperation on your face, and then understands when a broken moan tumbles past your lips.

Seth, a little shit as always, brings you back to the edge with his words alone. “It’s been so long, hasn’t it?” He slips in a third finger. “Bet you haven’t had anyone make you feel like this. Just me. Hopefully always me.”

“Seth,” You croak. “Please.”

“I’ve got you.” He urges. “Let go for me. You’re right there, I know it. You’re so tight, fuck, there you go.”

His mocking words echo in your mind with the low drawl of his voice, dark eyes staring at you like you’re a feast, and his damn fingers curling just right against your spongy wall.

His free hand suddenly moves, presses down over your lower abdomen, and oh. “Such a good girl.” Seth croons as you fall apart.

It’s the last thing you hear as your vision goes white, and the heat in your body explodes with wave after wave of ecstasy pumping from the tips of your toes all the way to the hair on your head. Your eyes squeeze shut, and you’re pretty sure you’re making some sort of strangled noise as you ride your high that seems to go on forever.

By the time you come back, your legs are still shaking and Seth is still gently stroking your inner walls with careful circles around your clit. He's my gazing up at you with pure, unbridled adoration and the emotion in his eyes makes your heart thump.

You don’t even realize your fingers are still tangled in his hair until you have to let go because they’re cramping, and then Seth finally removes his fingers and slowly crawls back up your body.

You’re still catching your breath when he presses a long, soft kiss to your lips. “How was that?” He questions almost shyly. His need for reassurance might have had a past you rolling your eyes, but right now all you want to do is hold him and thank him for making you feel so good.

Especially after Scott. Asshole.

You shudder, clit still throbbing as you wrap your arms around his heavy shoulders and bring his weight down on top of you. His very hard cock brushes against your hip with the movement, and you’re reminded that he hasn’t had any semblance of relief yet.

“Thank you.” You whisper. It’s definitely weird to thank someone after they eat you out, right? Probably, but you don’t really care.

His lips brush against your cheek in response, heart swelling at the gentle vulnerability you’re showing him. He’s planning on running to the bathroom to get you a towel, but freezes when he feels your hands peeling off the suit he totally forgot he was wearing.

“Babe?” He mumbles, a little confusingly, but all you do is kiss him and that shuts him up. He doesn’t break contact even as he shrugs off the rest of his suit, peeling off his undershirt until he’s more than halfway bare. Your hands carve lines over the hard planes of muscle on his chest, scratching lightly with your nails over his nipples which has him flinching into your mouth. Snickering, you make your way down the rest of his chest, past his waist, under his boxers, and then you’re wrapping your hand around his hot, pulsating dick.

Seth groans, almost collapsing on top of you as you squeeze lightly. It’s a dream come true, him touching you and now you touching him. He wants to close his eyes at the feeling of your gentle strokes, but he insists on keeping them open to watch the enraptured look on your face.

Then your other hand moves, unbuttoning his slacks and sliding them over his hips and that’s when he jerks back to the present. “Sweetheart,” He gasps. “You… You don’t have to.”

You smile at his breathlessness. “You don’t want to fuck me?” You pout, though it quickly turns back into a grin when his eyes widen in panic. Another day you’d blow him, when you aren’t so desperate to get him inside you.

Seth briefly removed himself from on top of you to lean over his bed, rifling through his nightstand drawer. You assume he’s looking for a condom and that his efforts fail when he eventually closes the drawer with a curse.

He looks back to you, all messy hair, swollen lips, and glistening eyes. “I don’t have a condom.” He informs regretfully.

“I’m on the pill, if you’re…” You trail off, unsure. “If you’re okay with that. And I’m clean.”

“Hell yes I’m okay with that.” He breathes. His cock hardens even more at the thought of feeling you raw, if even possible. “I’m clean too.” And then he’s kissing you again, long and slow and deep, and you’re happy to let him take the lead as your brain is still trying to play catch-up from your orgasm.

Seth eventually breaks away only to reattach to your neck, nipping at the skin likely already covered in his marks, hands now making their way back down your body. He playfully flicks your nipple as he does so, grins when you flinch upwards.

“Have I told you how much I love your body?” He says in-between kisses, almost like an afterthought. He’s in the middle of spreading your thighs open, fingers slipping through your leftover wetness and brushing your clit when you respond.

You help in his endeavors, raising your legs to curl over his hips as he situates himself on top of you. “You’ve mentioned it a few times, I think.” You reply, breath hitching when his cock presses against you.

“It’s perfect.” He continues, like he didn’t even hear you. “You’re perfect.” He wraps his hand around his dick, guides the head to your entrance and pushes in. All words escape you, and your head falls back with a moan.

He sinks into you with a pleasurable sound of his own, eyes squeezing shut as your warmth envelops him. Sucking in a breath through his teeth, he thrusts slowly into you, bottoming out. “So tight.” He hisses.

“Oh, fuck,” You whimper, digging your nails into his back. Seth stills, thinking he's hurting you. “Shit, am I—”

“Don’t you dare stop.” You quickly interrupt, crying out when his tip rubs against your sensitive inner walls just right. Seth relaxes at your words, a cocky grin spreading over his face. “Sorry, sorry.” He chuckles, picking up the speed of his thrusts.

Like before when his tongue was in you, it doesn’t take you long before noises are escaping your throat uncontrollably or for your legs to tremble from where they’re wrapped around his waist. The sensations are more because you’re already so sensitive, so strung-up, and so eager for another release that you give up any pretenses of trying to play cool.

Your head lolls back onto the bed, all strength leaving your body as Seth happily does all the work on top. Quick, short pants are coming from his mouth, and his chest is heavy where it presses down against yours. With every thrust his pelvis is rocking into your clit, sending sparks up your body as you clench rhythmically around his cock. It’s burning you from the inside-out in the best way possible, and very quickly you’re already approaching the edge.

You try to express your impending release, but all that’s able to come from your mouth is one long moan. Seth, somehow, knows exactly what that noise means, and is suddenly pulling out. “What the fuck?” You practically shout with indignation, glaring at the man on top of you with squinted eyes.

Ever the comedian, he only laughs at your irritation. “Hold on, bear with me.” His hands grab your waist, then rolls you over onto your stomach. He raises your hips, pushing down on your lower back into an arch, and all previous complaints leave you as he’s unable to help himself and runs his hands over your ass.

You’ll think later on why him being unfazed with your attitude makes your heart warm.

“Spread your legs for me.” He murmurs, tapping at the junction between your thighs. You do as he says, and shiver when his fingers go to part your cunt once you’re open. You can’t see his face, but imagine the look on it to be one of enrapturement. You turn your head finally, pressing your hips down onto his hand where it remains touching you.

Your earlier guess was right; his pupils are blown wide, jaw hung open just a little bit at having this view of you from behind. Meeting his eyes, you stare imploringly.

While the sudden need for him scares you, you don’t shy away. Rather, you meet his desires head-on in the form of pushing your hips back against him when he finally pushes in, smothering a whimper as his body looms over yours.

Neither of you talk in favor of letting your pleasure speak for you. The new position feels more intimate, oddly enough; his chest presses onto you from every angle, and you can feel his breath every time he pants into your ear. At the same time his arms are wrapped around your waist, hands kneading at the flesh of your hips while he thrusts into you from behind.

All too soon you’re reaching your peak just like before, and the buildup feels so sweet because he’s hitting you deeper, unrelenting in his thrusts despite how your arms collapse from underneath you. Seth doesn’t flinch, merely picks you back up and presses a hand to your abdomen to keep you there.

With your arms free, you realize that your clit is feeling neglected, and as you sneak your right hand in-between your legs he’s suddenly beating you to it, slapping your own hand away and replacing it with his own.

When it’s all said and done, you don’t think you’ll ever forget the feeling of his fingers circling your sensitive nub so deliciously. Between his dick rutting into your sweet spot mercilessly and the rough pads of fingers stimulating your clit, your eyes are slamming shut with your mouth opening in a silent scream as for the second time that night, Seth is sending you into release.

He carries you through it with noncommittal praise while you’re lost in white noise and starry vision. The sight of you crumbling beneath him sends sparks throughout his body, and it doesn’t take long between the rhythmic clenching of your cunt and the pleasured sounds falling from your lips for him to flood your insides with his cum.

“Oh, fuck—fuck, fuck, fuck.” Seth loses any semblance of restraint of trying to be gentle, as his last thrusts rattle your frame and have you whimpering by the time he’s done releasing, your overstimulated clit throbbing in time with the slow rocks of your calming bodies. “So good. You did so good, yeah?” Seth is rumbling into your ear, voice hoarse and tired as he carefully slides out of you. Eyes still closed, you flinch at your sensitivity. “Sorry, babe.” He whispers, having to regroup for a moment as his softening cock meets cool air after being buried inside you.

You attempt to speak, but the only sound that leaves your mouth is a groan as your aching limbs stretch. You don’t bother opening your eyes yet, either, perfectly content to lay in your post-orgasmic pleasure and not think about the future.

Seth doesn’t let you wallow for long, however, as he’s suddenly leaning over you again. “Can you turn over? I have a towel, it’s warm.” He asks, back to shy and unsure. Now that you’re not caught up in the throes of sex, he’s not quite sure how you’re going to act. “You also need to go pee.”

Your default moods of snarky and mildly irritated is what he gets. “No.” You grumble, though it’s not mean as you bury your head in his pillow, still flat on your stomach. Having no energy to move, you don’t expect Seth to do anything about it, either.

He raises a brow at your sass, not quite sure if he should be relieved or concerned. Huffing, he makes a grab for your hips. “Guess I’m carrying you to the bathroom, then.”

“Seth!” You shriek as he attempts to manhandle you, a burst of energy fueling your efforts in trying to get away. “You little shit, no, fine, fine!” And Seth wins just like that, as you concede the battle and roll from your stomach onto your back. You glare as he leans over your torso, bringing the towel down to clean up the mess in-between your thighs.

His confidence comes back, little by little, as the banter returns naturally and your dynamic doesn’t change despite indulging in your bodies’ most primal desires. “You’ll thank me in the morning.” He grins when he finishes, sliding off the bed to bring it back to the bathroom. You follow, doing your business so quickly you leave before he’s done with his own.

When he comes back you’re in the same position he left you in, like you never left. “So I’m staying the night, then?” You prompt as he goes to sit next to you, a little teasing, a little serious. Where do you stand with him now?

He shrugs, masking his nervousness. “If you want to.” He sinks his teeth into his lip, eyeing you from where he sits. He can’t tell what you’re thinking, and it slightly unnerves him.

Your mysteriousness is also what captivated him about you in the first place too, though. With that, he realizes he wouldn’t have gotten this far if you hadn’t liked him at least a little bit. Taking a deep breath, he takes the bold route, grabs your hand, and does what he does best:

Be bold.

“I want you to stay though, like, really badly.” He admits, meeting your curious eyes. You suck in a breath at his words, and Seth continues. “You know I like you. A lot. And I think you like me too.”

As if knowing he’s waiting for your reassurance, you reply quietly. “A little presumptuous of you, yeah?”

Seth grins, and you can’t help but wonder how you were able to resist it for so long.

“So… You’ll stay?” He tilts his head, reminding you of a puppy. You go to respond, maybe with another sarcastic reply, and he seems to know this even before you do. “Please?”

And, well, you can’t deny him when he’s looking at you like that; soft, brown eyes full of adoration gazing at you like you’ve hung the stars and the moon. “Okay.” You relent, grinning happily as he mouths something like ‘fuck yeah’ and rolls over next to you.

“Do you want to shower?” He suddenly asks, after you’ve already curled underneath his sheets with your body pressed against his. He makes a nice furnace, and you’re mad at yourself for not indulging in him sooner. “Because I have a big one. It has these jets that spray from different angles, and you can go alone or I can join or—”

“Seth.” You interrupt, poking his chest to get his attention. He gulps at the amused expression on your face. “Stop talking.”

“Okay.”

It’s silent for several minutes, and you’re almost asleep until he speaks up again.

“Can I be your boyfriend now?”

“Oh my god.” You hiss. “If I say yes will you let me go to sleep?”

You can’t see his face but you know for a fact there’s a stupid grin on it. “You know, I think you’re gonna fall in love with me one day.”

“Keep dreaming, babe.” You say.

But you both know he won’t be dreaming for long.

A/N: I like this one a lot tbh. But my lord I didn't realize how repetitive writing smut is so I need to have at least a little plot established before I can just jump into it 😭 regardless, I hope this is everything y’all wanted in terms of me writing for him and more! Please be sure to reblog and comment, thank youuuuu

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spider-chris06 · 7 months

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Do you know why Spider-Verse Miles is my favorite Spider-Man?

He, without having a choice, had to do in two days, what took all the other Spider-Sonas in the multiverse weeks, become Spider-Man, all under the unimaginable pressure of being the successor to the previous Spider-Man of his universe, which left the bar too high, having to meet everyone else's expectations, and having to go through a tortuous journey while learning from his mentor.

Even when the spider-gang not only didn't trust him but even seemed to dislike Miles at first (Except, of course, Gwen and Peter B, who are very special cases)

And pressing him to see if he was ready and treating him like just a kid (Even Peni).

All so that he then went to his uncle, who was like a second father to him and someone who truly understood Miles, only to find out that he had always been a hitman, going so far as to almost end with the life of his nephew, until he realizes what he was about to do and... well, tragedy happens.

The death of Uncle Aaron, due to the depth and history behind it, remains the most tragic "death of Uncle Ben" in all of cinema... ever.

Miles stopped being the same since then, and even when a hurricane of emotions possessed him, he learned that no matter what, Spider-Man always gets up and keeps going, at the same time he learned to take his leap of faith. Before becoming Spider-Man he had a normal and happy life, but after being bitten by that spider his whole life fell apart, but of course, Miles is someone truly strong and full of determination thanks to the people close to him.

In two days, he surpassed almost the entire Spider-gang, and in a year and a half he become almost a professional as Spider-Man, even giving lessons to everyone else, and making it clear to Gwen and the others what truly means being Spider-Man, not standing by crossed arms while someone is in danger, but trying to do everything you can to save everyone, doing both things, even when it seems impossible, Spider-Man should always try, because everything it's possible.

At the same time that Miles felt stabbed in the back by the same people to whom he wanted to dedicate his entire future just to see them again since he felt alone and sad inside in the world without them, and, specially, without Gwen.

And let me remind something, Miles actually thinks she doesn't even love him and only sees him as a friend, but he still wants to see her

On the ATSV betrayal, he release all that hurricane of emotions that he had to swallow and accumulate inside during ITSV and during that entire year and a half for not having time for ALL those things said before, leading him to have anxiety and panic attacks (Something confirmed in the synopsis of the short "The Spider Within")

All so that they later reveal to him that he was a mistake, an anomaly, that he should never have been Spider-Man, that he killed the Peter of his universe, causing everything that gave MEANING to his life fell down in just a few minutes, leaving Miles more traumatized, mortified and with more trust issues than he already had before.

He really became one of the most tragic character of all the saga (Along with Peter B and, put it in some way, Miguel O' Hara)

And just because Miles looks with a cool and chill personality doesn't mean he's any less traumatized and mortified on the inside (An example is Andrew Garfield's Spider-Man).

Even though in the comics that nickname is only used because that is what his universe is called, in the movies, on the other hand, even though there are people on the internet who deny the fact that he is currently becoming an unstoppable phenomenon that is marking an entire generation and will mark future generations, Miles Morales proved to be, without a doubt, the Ultimate Spider-Man.

As a bonus, even though she always screwed up with everyone around her, both the living and the dead, Gwen showed that she really loves Miles and that he truly is the love of her life, however, needless to say, she has a lot of work to do in her redemption arc to be able to fix things with Miles, which will be very difficult but not impossible, even more so taking into account all the hate she received for everything that happened in ATSV.

Now she has to PROVE not only to him, but to all of us viewers, that she truly deserves to be with Miles, that they can have a life together by her own merit, and that all the hate towards her after the ATSV release it's truly unfair.

However, I have to be realistic, there are characters like Peni or even Peter B who should not be anything more than simple 'acquaintances' or 'partners' for Miles, since, with what they did, the term "Friend" It's too big for them.

In any case, Miles has the last word.

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soulaires · 3 months

Text

Sweet Dreams | A.W

pairings: dad!Aaron Warner x mom!Reader

synopsis: Aaron loves his daughter, he really do. Hell, he would burn down the world for her but sometimes,, all he wanted was to spend one night alone with you—his beloved pretty wife.

warnings: interrupted sexy times, domestic life, GIRL DAD AARON WARNER LESSGOOO, comfort, nightmares, Aaron Warner is so done, reader and dior are little shits, fluff, married life, light smut obvi, it was interrupted though (literally the whole plot) not proofread …

« words: 1,607┇ao3┇reblogs are appreciated! »

🏷 :: @ravisinghs-wife @ab-baybay @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @cosmicswan @nomournersonefuneral @lilyevansstudygroup @arinexeisnotworking

Aaron Warner is a good father.

He really is, he educated himself on the risks, pros and cons, he even bought himself a book on how to take care of his pregnant wife, a beginners guide on being a father and what not.

He would like to pride himself that he knows about everything, knows how to handle when the baby cries, when the baby throws a tantrum, or when his daughter wants something and such.

but…

If there was one fact no one mentioned to Warner about being a father, it was just how quickly his sex life would evaporate.

He loves dior, he really does. She is his most beloved daughter, baby girl, light of his life, his princess, his Achilles heel (plus you, of course.) and unfortunately the bane of his existence.

he’s kidding.

but of course there are some times that he just wants an alone time with you, his beautiful wife without being interrupted by a certain little princess.

All because you drove him to madness, igniting an insatiable desire within him, awakening the hidden beast that eagerly salivated and panted in response to your lustful glances, strategically unleashed whenever the mood struck.

He would be a fool to lie and pretend you didn’t stir something inside of him, some wretched version of himself rattled the bars of its cage, akin to a hurricane relentlessly tearing through barriers to reach you whenever you allowed your sugar-sweet voice to caress his sensitive ears.

He was a slave for the love you easily gave him as if it’s the easiest thing you can ever do. How can you easily love someone like him? a hopeless man yearning for thirst and begging for a single drink, a solitary taste, as if dying of thirst and pleading at your feet.

You were his goddess, and the privilege of sharing your bed, your throne, surpassed all his wildest dreams. Simply being by your side was more than he believed he deserved, and he vividly recalled the day he first encountered you—the day you convinced him that he was truly worth something.

—

The room is awash with the silvery glow of the moon, you notice, setting a tranquil atmosphere that amusingly contradicts the feverish warmth of Aaron's caresses. His kisses trace a journey from the curve of your neck to the hollow of your navel. However, any sense of composure shatters when your husband playfully bites your right nipple, sending all rational thoughts scattering out the window.

“Ah, Aaron,” you groan after a sharp nip against your collarbone. “fuck! baby…I—we can’t—!”

“Shh, we can, love. Dior is asleep” he whispers against your ear, “just let me take care of my wife, yeah?” He said as he caressed your hair, admiring your beauty under him. “It’s just us…” he said as he chuckled and that made you shiver.

“Pretty, momma…look at you, my pretty wife.” Aaron shifts to readjust himself as he hurriedly vanishes the remaining clothes and attacks your lips and kisses you passionately and hungrily as if he has been starved for years.

“Gods—look at you, ma, pretty as life and poison, want me to put another baby on you, hm?” he said as he dragged his teeth against your chest to taste your beating heart and he then placed soft and slow kisses on your face while stroking your face with his thumb.

You draw him closer, intending for a light and sweet kiss to allow your husband to continue his gentle touches. Yet, it’s not your fault that you find yourself getting lost in the sheer perfection that is Warner.

He, in turn, envelops both of you with his hand, stirring a gentle desire for more within you and oh, dear god, you need more.

Just as you are about to open your mouth to voice out your desires for a little more, a soft, almost inaudible knock interrupts the intimate moment.

The unmistakable soft voice of your three-year-old daughter pierces through the room, calling out, “momma..? dada..?” Panic flashes between you and Aaron, and hastily, you both scramble to locate your discarded clothes.

“mommy! daddy!” yelled dior through the door as she started knocking continuously that makes you and your husband panic more. “‘s da door broken..?!”

“just a second, princess,” Aaron softly calls out, panicking when his hard-on doesn’t seem to go away. Hell.

He glances up at his wife and stares at you, baffled when he realizes that you had already put on your night gown and on your way to open the door.

“Wha—how?” he asks in disbelief. “You were literally just—”

“Don’t underestimate me.” You joked.

Aaron dismissively shakes his head, muttering under his breath, and takes a seat on the bed, discreetly covering his arousal with the white comforter just as Dior bursts into the room and enthusiastically throws herself into your arms.

“Hey, baby,” you whisper, gently rubbing comforting circles on her back. “Nightmare, love?”

"Uh-huh," Dior nods against your neck, her tears leaving your nightgown slightly damp.

you picked her up and went to the bed as dior hugged her dad, sniffing as she softly cried, “oh, darling. What happened, princess? hm?” Asked Warner as he hugged his crying daughter to his arms.

“I—hiccup t-thought monsters got you,” said dior, her green eyes filled with tears. you then pulled her into a hug.

“aw, baby, we are fine,” you said, patting her back. you brush the blonde curls out of your daughter’s eyes. “yeah, sweetheart, no monsters here.”

“Are you sure?” She asked, looking suspiciously around their room.

“Promise,” you replied, assuringly as you stood up to rock her to calm her down.

“We promised, sweet princess. And if there is, daddy will scare the ugly monsters away,” your husband assured her from the bed as dior starting to calm down,

“really?” she said with a shaky voice and a glassy doe eyes and you almost cried seeing her state.

Poor baby.

“I promise, Di, daddy will protect you and momma.” Aaron said sincerely as you rocked her back and forth in your arms, running your fingers through her wild curls.

Dior sniffles start to quiet down. “Mhm…,” she says. “Can I stay here?” She looks at you with puppy eyes that is impossible for you to say no so you nodded.

“Of course, princess ,” Aaron responds, quietly mourning the loss of one night with his wife, alone.

As you continue rocking Dior in your arms, attempting to lull her into a peaceful slumber, your efforts are momentarily interrupted by her sweet voice, breaking the silence of the room.

“Mommy?” Dior queries after a few minutes, perched on your lap with a wide-eyed expression. “What's wrong with daddy?”

Your gaze shifts toward Aaron, who remains sprawled face-down on the bed, emitting occasional groans and muffled whines in his attempt to compose himself for the sake of your toddler. Suppressing a grin, you find amusement in his comical efforts.

“Well, Di,” you murmur, showering light kisses on your daughter’s chubby cheeks to conceal your amusement. “I think your daddy is having a nightmare, much like the one you just experienced.”

Dior gasps in innocent concern. ”Oh no! Mommy, give daddy kisses to scare the monsters away!”

Smiling at her pure-hearted suggestion, you gently explain, “I don’t think that will help, sweet thing.” Observing Dior's face scrunch up in confusion, you swiftly add, ”You see, adults have different nightmares than kids do.”

“But kisses always help!” Dior insists with unwavering conviction.

”Well, if you insist,” you reply, giving in to her innocent plea, and share a quiet laugh at the sheer delight evident on Dior's face.

As you comply with dior’s request, you peppered kisses onto your husband’s face, eliciting a chorus of giggles from both him and Dior.

After showering Aaron with a cascade of kisses, he playfully remarks, "Mhm, daddy is okay now, but he'll be even more okay if you give daddy a kiss too."

Dior, with her eyes sparkling, responds enthusiastically, "Okay, Daddy!" She complies, peppering him with a flurry of sweet kisses as you heard Aaron giggles so you did, and in the midst of the joyous exchange, she graciously plants kisses on your face, too.

“Thank you, baby. Ready for sleep?” You asked and the response is a barely there nod.

“Love you and g’night, little missy.” You whisper, your voice sounds like a lullaby to the quiet room.

Aaron chimes in, taking on the role of the protector, “daddy will be right here, chasing away any monsters that dare to bother you, emerald.”

Dior, even in her drowsy state, manages to mumble a sleepy “luvu, daffy, momfy” before succumbing to dreams. The room, now quiet except for the soft breathing of your little one.

Your husband then looked at you and softly smiled, “I’ll chase all of your monsters away, too, love.” you softly giggled and gave him a peck.

However, as the night deepens, you feel a pair of eyes on you. Turning your attention, you find your husband, his expression akin to a kicked puppy, a playful pout adorning his features. It’s a silent plea for the solitude that eluded him tonight, a longing for those moments when it’s just the two of you.

You meet his gaze, understanding the unspoken disappointment in his eyes. As a promise of solace, you assure him with a tender look that whispers, ”Next time, it'll be just us.” you promised him.

And you were never the one who breaks promises.

So, was it really a surprise that after you fulfilled your promise you found yourself with two positive pregnancy tests?

No, not really.

📫 :: my first post in 2024 ?!?!!? Anyway this will be a series !!! Next one will be the introduction of the new addition to the family and THE question of “where does baby come from?” From baby warner. Also, if you want to be added to my taglist please do let me know!

#reader insert #shatter me series #shatter me #aaron warner x reader #riewrites 🫀#aaron warner #aaron warner x you #aaron warner anderson #aaron warner imagines #aaron warner x y/n #girl dad aaron warner #dad aaron warner #fem!reader #mom!reader #husband aaron warner #The Warner Family 🪐

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bagopucks · 1 year

Text

Blurbs

Jack Hughes x Reader, platonic Luke

For @hughesmoyle

✄————————————

There were many plus sides to Luke joining the devils. Jack having a brother around, myself having someone else to talk to when I was mad at Jack, having someone sane in the apartment. The list was endless. The thing on the top though? Knowing Jack had a protector. Somebody who would lay down their life to avenge their own blood. Luke was quiet, but he could be mean given the appropriate situation. I’d seen it multiple times. Out at bars, when a guy got too close and Jack wasn’t around. Luke was there. He’d loom over me with a look in his eyes, and a few snide words for the perv who wouldn’t leave me alone.

Likewise, Luke had always been around for his brothers. The few times the boys got into it with other kids, Luke was always ready to throw his fists in the mix. Even when Quinn and Jack fought. Luke was ready to take one’s side. Though usually he ended up punching Quinn for calling Jack a meanie, and shoving Jack for calling Quinn an ass. Jack always went for the harsher words.

Luke was a protector, and as much as I trusted Jack’s team, there was nothing like a brother to have your back.

Except -apparently- in the moment Jack may have needed him most. I gasped the second he lunged at Aho. I’d seen Quinn fight. I’d seen Luke fight. Jack? Maybe in a playful manner. I already had his tooth to worry about, but I feared I’d have more to look after when he finished his scrum with Aho.

“Jack!” His name was the first word to leave my lips. I shot out of my seat, my hand grasping the arm of Kristen. Quiet gasps and ‘oh’s’ dropped from the lips of the women around me. The weight of the leather jacket on my shoulders never felt heavier until then. I flinched when Jack went down. My first assumption was that he’d lost the fight. Until he wrapped his arms around Aho’s legs and flipped him over. Was that even legal?

“Babes, you gotta relax. He’ll be fine!” Nicole called to me over the roar of the crowd. My heart raced. I could hear it in my ears.

“What if he gets hurt?”

“We’ll cross that bridge if we get to it. Just relax.” Kristen interjected. She wiggled her arm from my grasp and slipped her hand into my own, slowly pulling me back into my seat as Jack was separated from the Hurricane. So much for Luke and all his protective tendencies. I couldn’t see much of Jack, but the way he skated off, he looked fine. Then again, he didn’t look particularly in pain when he chipped his tooth either.

My knees bounced for the rest of the game. My heart raced. I felt hot, so I slipped my jacket off. Then I heard the final goal horn. The game was officially over. I grabbed my jacket and shot out of my seat, past a suite full of women. I assumed my jacket would be sign enough to get me back into the players only area. I truly hoped so. I took the stairwell instead of trying to weave through crowds on escalators. It was quite the sprint, but a workout I would benefit from. I was met with security by the first door, their eyes looked me over before one man smiled at me and let me through.

Then it was a matter of weaving through the halls, past the visiting locker room, past equipment rooms, past reporters- then I was stopped outside the locker room.

“Here for Jack?” One of the media managers asked. He worked with the arena staff.

“Yeah.” I breathed out, biting my lip.

“You know you’ll have to wait.” And I did, but a piece of me hoped I’d manage to get in first.

Instead, because of legally binding contracts, I was left pacing in the hall while the media filled the locker room and began asking millions of questions.

When reporters cleared out, and players began filing out of the room, the same manager waved me inside. I wrinkled my nose at the scent, but my distaste was replaced by concern when I spotted Jack and Luke seated side by side in their stalls, still half dressed. Jack was rubbing his wrist- not a great sign, but his smile was a good one.

“Jack.” Both boys looked up at me. I crossed the floor, careful not to step on the logo.

“Hey, babe. Thought we’d meet at the car?” Jack’s bubbly tone caught me off guard. I reached out to grab his face nonetheless, inspecting every inch. His brows rose in surprise, but he allowed me to turn his face in my hands and occasionally rub a blemish or red mark. Even the acne forming on his forehead from the sweaty helmet he wore. He needed a spa day.

“Smile wide for me.” I instructed, and much like a child, Jack gave me his best toothy grin. All but one. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

“I don’t think so.” Jack shook his head, and I finally let him go. “You worried about me?” He teased.

“A little, all things considered.” Look stifled a laugh at the obvious allusion to his missing tooth.

“Hey,” Jack feigned offense.

“You just make me nervous sometimes, Is all.”

“What about me?” Luke chimed in, looking up at me expectantly.

“What about you?” I quipped in response, this time I laughed with Jack.

“You guys suck.” Luke muttered as he stood up.

“Says the one who didn’t protect his brother.” I argued.

“Did you see the same fight I did? I don’t think I needed to.” Luke sassed, earning a hard glare from both myself and Jack.

“Check that ‘tude bro.”

“Yeah, Lu. Check the ‘tude.” I agreed with Jack, earning an incredulous look from the youngest boy.

“Get outta here,” Luke finally cracked a smile, trying to shoo me off. “We have to change.”

“Whatever, Luke. I’m telling your dad you’re being mean.”

“I’m sure I’m the least of his worries.” I had begun walking toward the doors of the locker room until Luke spoke up again. I turned to look at him.

“You and Quinn have had far more fights. I don’t think Jim is gonna be too worried.”

“Yeah, but we didn’t risk our shot at an NHL trophy, did we?”

“Jack.” I whined, looking toward the middle Hughes, who was busy removing his shoulder pads and his shirt.

“Luke, quit giving her trouble.” Jack scolded.

“Quit giving her trouble.” Luke mocked.

“Shut up!”

“Thut up!” Jack paused the second the words fell from Luke’s lips.

I took slow backwards steps toward the locker room door. I heard Luke mumble a brief sorry before I slipped out of the locker room. The only sounds that followed me were that of a loud thud and Luke quietly mumbling an, ‘ow.’

#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes blurb #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes #quinn hughes

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inthestarsme · 1 year

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Astro Notes pt. 7

These pictures are not mine! I have taken them from pinterest, the second one seems to be from "Rachel Home and Life" on Pinterest.

‼️Don't repost my Observations without consent and mentioning my page‼️

I very much respect non-binary or trans people. If i'm talking about man or woman, i'm talking about cis-men or woman i know, because often, due to societal coding/standards, there can be differences depending on the gender. But it could very much apply to you if you are non-binary or trans. Just take what resonates and leave what doesn't, as spiritual people like to say.🫶🏻

If you don't agree with my observations, please don't send any hate. They're only my personal observations that i'm posting just for fun. Especialy the specific ones can only apply to certain people. So don't take anything you read too seriously. It's not a science, just pop-astrology!😎

I'm back again! Hope y'all had a great start into the year and some beautiful or at least peaceful holidays. I'm not going to explain to much about my absence (i feel like me not posting regularely or as it works is just a thing now) and just jump right into it.

So, here we go! Ready.... Set..... Okay i'm kidding. But yes, let's go!

Moon in the 3rd house: I always need to talk to a friend about my feelings when i feel overwhelmed, sad, angry, etc. If i try dealing with it just in my head, it feels like a hurricane up there. Sometimes i like writing things down too, but i prefer talking it through and getting a second, reflective opinion and reaction. This kind of fits this placement, so maybe this could help you, if you haven't figured this out about yourself yet.

Chiron in the Solar Return-Chart: I feel like Chiron here shows you a wound that developes over the year, that you might only start seeing at the very end or in the next year.

Leo Risings: You guys really are these confident, radiant, extroverted, even loud types of people. Very social and outgoing. You "shine" and are quite populare. As i am an Aquarius rising (so my rising falls into their 7th house) i tend to attract these kinds of people (as friends and also partners/ love interests, but love interests more so sun in leo as the sun is the heart) even though you wouldn't think so because i tend to be more shy and reserved. But it really doesn't mean that is how you truly feel inside. It is one of the most prominent parts of your personality and how people know you, but you can still hold a lot of insecurities inside yourself. Also: blond hair tends to be typical for these people, also the darker blond shades. But it isn't a must, i've just noticed this. Maybe also just hair that "shines" or somehow stands out.

North Node in the 12th house: Learning how to deal with addictions and any kind of mental health problems, that could've or did get you into any kind of facility (prison, etc.) is a big and important part of your life and souls journey. You need to learn how to take care of your physical health and get a healthy routine and sorted out everyday life, so you can deal with your mental health problems, and not use drugs etc. as a way to deal with your every day life/ to run away from your everyday life/ to make your addiction, mental health struggles, etc. your everyday life and make it mess up your health. You may naturally have always been so focused on work, routines and everyday life, etc., that you always have tended to forget about your mental health and anything to do with that.

Jupiter in the 9th house: Things like religion, philosophy, higher (college) education and traveling can be a source of great happiness and success in your life. In which way really depends on other placements and if you are religious or not, etc.

Moon in the 9th house: You might really need religion or certain philosophical theories placed in your life to feel emptionaly secure and stable. They don't need to necessarily be a typical kind of religion or a academicaly accepted philosophy, but just something that exists inside yourself that fits into these categories.

Empty houses: I think a house being empty just means that in this life there isn't really a focus on this area in your life, or it tends to sort itself out naturaly through other areas in your life that are more in focus. As you have your ruling planet of the house sitting in another house and do not have anything putting more of an emphasis on this house, i think the energy of the house plays itself out through other areas in your life or are influenced by other areas. It still exists in your life, but it isn't in focuse just for itself (i know this isn't necessarily how this is interpreted in general, this is just how i see it).

Scorpio MC: I feel like, as Scorpio and Pluto have a lot to do with ego deaths, a lot of people tend to see me in a bad light and as problematic because i kind of go against their ego, because i trigger something in them they don't want to face and they are hiding with their ego. Also, I'm not necessairly the secretive type of person, but if i stay more secretive, people tend to be more interested and intrigued by me. I also get peoples attention if i present in a "shocking" way (as would many), but i like it honestly (my aquarius rising just loved being weird), and i feel like often people just silently watch me and even admire (or at least noone has ever complained or said anything negative).

I hope you enjoyed this one again. Please leave certain aspects you want me to get into in another post in the comments or just any kind of post you would like to see from me.

I wish you a wonderful year! Byee🫶🏻

#astro community #astro observations #astroblr #astrology #moon in the 3rd house #chiron #solar return #leo rising #north node in the 12th house #jupiter in the 9th house #moon in the 9th house #empty houses #scorpio midheaven

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jin0 · 2 years

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LOVESICK TEACHER [TASM!Peter Parker]

Summary : Peter lost you over ten years ago. Well, let's thank your niece, his favorite student, because here you are today, presenting your job to his class.

Pairing : Elementary teacher!Peter Parker X Reader

Warnings : 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI, smut, fluff, angst, peter being stupid (when do i ever write him smart...), soulmate trope kinda, both are a little toxic lets be real, gwen in the middle but she's best girl so get off her dick and be nice, i kinda followed andrew and emma's story with that one too, creampie, pet names (pumpkin, sweetheart, baby), slight mentions of manhandling, use of webs, kinda exhibition because they do intimate stuff in the street, overstimulation, kinda subby peter, kinda dom reader, lots of cum too, slight titty worship, slight pussy job, lots of kisses and soft touches.

A/N : another one for you birdie ✨ i kinda LOVED writing that one, missed writing for this idiot 🙈

Peter Parker could never really qualify as an idiot, but in that moment, he had never felt more stupid in his life.

It all matched perfectly and maybe it was the delusion that pushed him to ignore the signs but fuck, they were screaming at him now and he couldn’t just act like they weren’t there, like you weren’t there. It had been an entire decade of longing and confusion, and now, you were here, in front of him. Him and his entire class of little kids.

“Hi, I’m here with Mimi and I’m going to present my job as a lawyer.” You said, a tender smile on your face.

All the students cheered for you, some throwing looks at ‘Mimi', the little girl you were here for. Peter couldn’t hear any of the sounds around him, completely deaf to anything that wasn’t your voice. It echoed around him, sounding so distant yet close, as if coming out of his own head. It was a familiar feeling, but it never was this vivid before, not even in his wildest dreams or memory. He had dreamt of hearing your voice again, not in his head or memories this time. It had become so recurrent that the default voice for his memories or conscience was yours, even after all these years of not seeing each other.

You started presenting yourself and what you did on the daily to the weirdly attentive children. The teacher knew Mimi probably had something to do with it, the little girl so eerily similar to you. Now that he thought about it, he had been ignoring all the tells that slammed in his face. From her family name to her personality, she was like you, in so many ways it made him dizzy. She was like a tiny copy of you, a copy that seemed to look like you and you only, no one else.

He had been staring at your face with this stunned and pained look, as if seeing you was physically painful to the man, as if the vision of you was stabbing him repeatedly. A part of him knew you weren’t the one holding the knife in this situation, he was. He’d been holding it for a decade, waiting for the moment to hurt himself further, hurting himself until he truly felt the pain. He just didn’t expect to feel the pain in question in the middle of his class, with literal children watching.

The positive element here was that the kids seemed to be very interested in your job, this was definitely due to your way of explaining it. You knew how to make a topic fun for kids, you always did. From your facial expressions to your words, all of it was fun, you were the fun one. Even back in , you had been the one to always know where and when fun things would happen.

Peter never understood how you two ended up mixing together, when your crowds seemed to be so different.

Ah… Right… He knew how. It was stupid too.

You had figured out his secret identity when he jumped into your apartment thinking to was his. You helped him fix his wounds and from then on, helped in managing life and his nightly activities.

Until the hurricane came. Hurricane Gwen Stacy.

“Mr. Parker ?”

The man’s entire body jolted at the sudden voice and slight tug of his pants. Looking down, he found little Mimi smiling up at him with a proud smile on her face. That fucking smile, even that was the same. A slight hint of mischief mixed with all the love and innocence in the world. No, not innocence, hope. The smile he recognized it from you, a smile that you always had whenever he felt like giving up on the spider part of him. You had been his little ray of hope and one of his student was carrying the mantle.

He crouched to reach her level, smiling tenderly at her despite the little knot forming in the pit of his stomach at the idea of confronting the little girl, a child you had with someone else.

Like she always did, her little hands reached for his face to hold it still, she didn’t like it much whenever she was talking and the person wasn’t looking at her. Just like you. Her pupils were dilated in excitement and he could hear her heartbeat thumping inside her little chest.

“Mr. Parker, she’s finished, you gotta meet her now ! She’s real fun, just like me !” Declared the little girl, practically dragging her teach face first towards the source of her pride.

The man chuckled, standing up and handing the little girl his hand to let himself be guided towards you. Each step he took made him feel both heavier and lighter. The feeling of seeing you again brought him to cloud nine but the anxiety of your reaction buried him under the weight of the years that separated you both.

“Titi look ! It’s him ! Mr. Parker !” Presented Mimi, jumping into your arms to be carried, which you did.

“I know love, he’s right there, I can see him.” You smiled, kissing her forehead and making funny faces at her.

“I know ! But your eyes are bad, so I was making sure !” She responded honestly, looking at you as if it was the most obvious thing ever.

You laughed to yourself and Peter tried not to laugh and collapse to the floor at the same time. More than her name, face and mannerism, she also had your sarcasm. The resemblance was undeniable now, it was too late to run away or act blind. Two versions of you were cornering him, one, adorable as a button and the other, as beautiful as and mesmerizing as an angel fallen from the sky.

Her hands extended towards him, she was taking a step to make this a little less awkward, he knew it, that was what you always did.

“Hi, I’m Mimi’s aunt, nice to meet you.” You said, in your steadiest voice.

A sudden weight lifted off of Peter’s shoulders at your words. Her aunt. Not her mother, but the her aunt. He felt such relief in that moment, he could’ve jumped in joy, but refrained from rejoicing too fast, because you were acting like you didn’t know him, and that one hurt like hell. Even more than the possibility of you having a child with someone else.

Extending his hand to hold yours, he got lost in the feeling of your warm skin, it felt good, familiar, like home. His thumb caressed your skin as subtlety as he could but the tingling sensation spreading through him at the contact made it impossible to detach himself from you. He wanted more, he wanted to hug you tight, so tight that your only solution would be to live in his skin. He was going mental, that was evident, but fuck, he had missed you, all of you.

“Mr. Parker ?”

This time, it was your voice that pulled him out of his thoughts. Your head was tilted to the side with a slight grin, the kind that said ‘I don’t mind, take your time’. She was inviting him to take his time and reminisce. Why ? Why was she allowing him this much ? She just made it more painful to let go.

“Sorry…” He muttered, pulling his arm back slowly. Your touch burnt his skin softly, leaving behind nothing but longing and nostalgia. “So, Mimi’s Aunt right ?”

“Yes.” You smiled tenderly, looking down on the little girl fussing to get down. You put her down, letting her run off to her friends. “Her parents had to go abroad for work so I’m subbing for them. The lil’ pumpkin doesn’t seem too bothered by it so we’re having a good time together. But don’t worry, they’ll be back in a few hours, you won’t have to deal with me anymore.”

The pang in his chest was back. You’d be gone soon, disappearing out into the world again and reminding him how much he missed you. The idea of loosing you again was unbearable, his entire body screaming for him to move and do something. He needed to take a step towards you, one that would either give him closure or bring you back in his life.

"You're gone so soon ? Poor Mimi, I bet she's wasn't the happiest about the news."

"She doesn't know and please don't tell her, she'll chase me with a broom. She might be small but she manages to hold it perfectly."

"Don't worry about it. I see she enjoys your company, she talks about you every day. You're like her own Spiderman."

"How ironic..." He heard you mutter under your breath.

The deep parts of him he had tried to hide for years after you were gone just couldn’t be kept hidden anymore, not when you were right there and soon you wouldn’t be. So Peter did what his mind told him, he took a step towards you.

“Can we talk ?”

The question sounded so desperate, it was as if his life depended on whatever discussion he had in mind. That desperation to discuss things, to put words over whatever you were feeling before it was too late, you knew it better than anyone. You’d gone through it first, and now it was his turn.

You could be petty, god you wanted to. You wanted to make him feel the same kind of anger and sadness knowing him had you go through. You wanted him to be as desperate as you were to talk and grab your chance before it slipped out. You wanted him to have that chance and you wanted to be the one to rip it out of his hands, leaving him with nothing. But you couldn’t .

You could’ve stood your ground and said no, getting your own personal revenge on him. But what was the point ? It wouldn’t make you feel good and it was useless. You’d been through it and managed to sort your shit out. You walked out of that cave and saw the ‘light’. Now you were fine, you didn’t need anymore revenge or closure. And if he needed it, then you didn’t mind giving it to him. Because no matter how much he hurt you, no matter how much pain he had you go through, he was still your Peter. The clumsy idiot who could save an entire building but would lose his mind if his favorite scientist looked at him.

“Yes Pete. We can talk.” Your smile was so tender, so sweet, he wanted to drop to his knees and let himself be buried by the shame he felt. You took a step towards him, entering his personal space and letting your scent drown him in. “I’ll be waiting for you after class, just let me drop Mimi off first.”

He couldn’t speak, could barely move, but found the strength to nod, his eyes tightly shut. He had never considered the impact of your absence on his mind and body. There was something about your presence that was addictive, soothing and just made everything feel like home. From your touch to your scent, you brought out the best of him, pulled him out of his shell gently and guided him through the fucked up world he had to deal with.

Without you or anything to distract him from thinking about your absence, he was back to square one. Angry, cold, distant, absent. Once the spring had passed, he was back to his winter, back to reality, the reality that he had list you without even noticing and for a while. You had disappeared out of his life and he couldn’t avoid the withdrawal by distracting himself anymore, not when his place of refuge had left with you.

What a shitty idea to share your interest with your best friend. Now he was stuck desperately trying to find comfort in the things that he had enjoyed before you but couldn’t anymore. How could he when all of these things, he had shared with you and could only link to you now ? You left and took everything that he owned and was with you.

The rest if the day felt like the longest of his life, lasting hours and hours before he could finally say goodbye to his students.

He was anxious, trembling uncontrollably and biting his lip in anticipation. The knot in his stomach just kept growing, taking up more space and making his entire body dependent on tiny bits of positive affirmations to reassure himself.

“Mr. Parker ?”

He jumped for the hundredth time today, looking down towards the little girl who had started this trainwreck of a day.

“Yes Mimi ? Do you need something ?” He asked tenderly, or at least, as much as he could.

The little girl shook her head, signaling for him to get to her level. He smiled honestly, this little truly was like you. He loved her attitude, confidence and certainty in her words all cramped up in a pocket size human.

“Are you in love for my Titi ?”

If he had anything in his mouth, he would’ve chocked on the spot, but instead he choked on air. Coughing loudly and fanning his cherry colored face, he looked at the child in false confusion.

“W-Why would you ask that pumpkin ?”

“Well, you look at her like daddy looks at mommy. And also, you look like Dorothy’s shoes, all red and shiny. Are you okay ?”

Dorothy, from the Wizard of Oz. That reference he hadn’t expected to hear it again. Not since highschool, when you used to make fun of him by calling him a Dorothy ‘s shoes colored weirdo. He had a tendency to blush at everything and she would make fun of him for it. At the time, he swore up and down that he hated it, but fuck. He needed her to call him that again, like she used to. He wanted her to make fun of him again.

He chuckled, caressing the child’s cheeks and pinching them, make her giggle and squirm in fake disapproval. She wrapped her little arms around his neck and he lifted her up, enjoying her loud squeals of happiness. He wasn't going to lie, she was his favorite student and she knew it.

"Mimi, i can't carry you everywhere you know ?" He chuckled, arranging her hair.

"Yeah you can ! My Titi does it, even at her work when she's very busy !"

"I'm not her thought and i'll make other students sad if i only carry you."

"It's okay, I'm fine with that." She smiled, making him laugh out loud. Yeah, she was exactly like you.

Catching his breath, he ran a hand through his hand before looking down at the curious little girl.

"I’m okay pumpkin, just a little warm. Now, about your aunt-“

“What about me ?”

Peter was very close to jumping out of his own skin when your voice appeared behind him. But the true surprise was your appearance. When he saw you, he suddenly felt like a highschooler again. After ten years of not knowing where you were, you still looked and dressed the same. It could be felt that morning but could be seen in that moment.

You always looked so different when you dressed fancy or professional, he was always left speechless, but nothing could beat your usual look, the one that maintained the memory of you as a teenager, kept you as you. The you that he knew the best and that knew him when he was still worth it, or so he said.

You and your little dress felt like a breeze of fresh air, blowing through his classroom with your natural glow. You were like the wind during one of these very hot summer nights, he had prayed for you to come and while in the back of his head he lost the hope of seeing you, when you eventually showed, he just couldn’t help the smile on his face.

“Titi in a dress ! Titi’s wearing a dress ! I can even see your knees Titi!” Squealed the little girl, pointing at her aunt’s exposed knees.

She twirled around her as soon as Peter let her down and jumped in joy when you did the same, showing how flowy your dress was.

Peter was lucky that you were too busy with your niece to look at him because he couldn’t handle what was going on in front of him. Maybe he was stupid or maybe he was easy, he didn’t know and quite frankly didn’t care. There was something about seeing you in a dress that just made his inside melt. But the main issue wasn’t there, he knew this dress because he had bought it for you. It was a birthday present, the last birthday you both celebrated together, like your tradition stated, before you both lost each other.

“You’re zoning out again Mr. Parker. And you’re staring too.”

He tried to pull himself together and get back to the real world, but when his eyes crossed yours, he just couldn’t focus on anything but you. He’d equate it to nostalgia and the fact that he was seeing you again for the first time in ten years, but there was more, he knew it and clearly couldn’t hide it anymore, he had for ten years plus.

“Titi, he was all red, maybe he’s sick !” Exclaimed the child holding onto the hem of your dress

“You think ? That’s not good. We can’t let your favorite teacher be sick, can we Mimi ?” You crouched down to look at her in the eyes, trying not to laugh.

“No no no ! Sick people have to get better! With sleep and tea, and lots of honey too! To make it taste all sweet !” She responded, smiling wide while trying to remember all the technics her mother had taught her to get better.

You knew Peter, and the Spider hero was still active. He wasn’t back into his normal human body meaning he still healed very fast and simply couldn’t get sick. You knew all of this because he told you himself and even allowed you to read his father’s journal explaining the changes in his body. And if everything had stayed the same in ten years, which seemed to be the case from what you saw in the news, he still couldn’t. He probably used his sick days to rest or go out.

Nonetheless, Peter couldn’t get sick, you both knew this fact. A part of you, the part you tried to bury after high school, was hopeful, dreaming that the red covering his cheeks was due to you and not some super disease who had eventually managed to get him. You wished he’d blush because he saw you in the dress he bought you and you promised to only wear when time would be right. It wasn’t a particularly fancy dress, more of a simple milkmaid dress, but it was yours because he had gifted it to you and you wanted to honor it.

The dress was important and so was his opinion of you. Maybe that was the reason why it was so easy for your heart to break because of him. His opinion was too important and you understood exactly how much when his eyes started looking at Gwen Stacy as if she was the only one in the world to ever breath.

You weren’t replaced, your existence was simply erased when she appeared in his life.

Shaking your head suddenly, you ignored all the unwanted thoughts dancing around in your head and you turned towards your niece, who luckily, was still busy counting the healing methods on her hands. Grabbing her hand, you smiled wide.

“Hey, pumpkin, I’ve got to take you home, your parents are going to be home soon and we gotta surprise them okay ?”

“Okay ! Are we making them a surprise cake ? I wanna make a surprise cake Titi !”

“I already made it baby, but we can make something else later, okay ? But we should leave, Mister Parker has to go home to get better.” You said, reminding the little girl of her teacher’s fever.

She looked to him before looking up at you and nodding in agreement. Peter stayed quiet through the whole discussion, happy to be able to witness you both together, enjoying the dynamic between you both. He tried to keep in his smile but it was difficult to do so, past high school and college fantasies surfacing all over again and flooding his mind quickly. He pushed them to the side just enough to be able to wave at the both of you as you walked away from him.

When you came back to the school later, after dropping Mimi off and dodging your sister’s questions about you wearing your ‘special dress’, you found Peter sitting by the entryway to the school, hos skateboard in hand. Some things never changed.

When he noticed you, you saw this glint in his eyes, the one he had whenever he would discover something new for his suit or whenever he’d see her. It was easy to recognize because he used to have it whenever you would appear somewhere. You wanted to slap your own thoughts, you hated every single one of them for making you feel this way. You had spent so long learning how to be happy for Peter and you were, but your heart had other plans. The moment you saw him, you started doubted yourself and whether or not you hat truly moved on. Words were easy to say when the main focus of said words was nowhere to be found.

"So... elementary teacher huh ?"

He stayed silent for a few seconds before looking down.

"You told me i was good with kids." He took a pause a'd looked up. "Lawyer ?"

"You told me I was great at arguing." You chuckled. "Mimi likes you."

He wanted to smile at the mention of the little girl but couldn't.

"Yeah, i like the little pumpkin too."

"You call her like you used to call me."

"Yup. She reminded me of you, i just never made the connection. Did you know i was her teacher ?"

You shook your head as a response.

"No... I wanted to think it was you but i thought that would be too far fetched."

Silence took over again a'd you were back to square one, him staring and you deep in your thoughts. It felt good to be seen again by him. You wished you could say you didn’t need it but a part of you was still heavily dependent on him, and that made you hate him a little bit every passing second. You were better than that, stronger too, so much stronger. But you felt this unhealthy need to be desired by him, to be craved, and you wouldn’t be okay with this kinds of emotions if he wasn’t the one responsible for them.

You were so deep in your thoughts that you hadn’t noticed him walking up to you. He was hesitant, waiting for you to push him away, which he feels would’ve been deserved. Instead, you stayed still, not welcoming him, staring into him and digging holes into his soul. It was painful, humiliating too, you weren’t hiding like he was, but you weren’t open to him either. It was a dangerous combination, the kind that made him want to drop to his knees and apologizing straight away.

When his fingers brushed your forearms, caressing your skin slowly and as tenderly as he could, his own fingertips started to feel tingly, electric. A sensation of fulfillment, like his body was being charged with something unknown. His touch, initially as delicate as a feather, pushed into your skin, desperately trying to pull out more of that electricity. His hands ran up your exposed arms and held onto you tighter. He couldn’t let you go, not when this was what you made him feel, even after ten years apart.

“Pumpkin… Look at me, please…” His voice sounded higher and more desperate than you had ever heard coming from him.

You were still half out of it but you could feel it too, the electricity. Now, while his seemed to burn through you, the one coming from you was freezing. Your entire body burning cold under his touch. Was it your body’s way of rejecting him ? Telling him that you didn’t forgive him ? That you were pissed ? That had to be the biggest joke of the day considering the fact that in order to forgive, you had to consider that you had been wronged and at no moment had you ever felt like Peter had wronged. Or did you ? You couldn’t ignore the tiny parts of your brain and heart which seemed to get along when it came to this, agreeing that you got to be as petty as you want towards him.

You wanted to pull away and he felt it, tightening his arms around your biceps and pulling you to his chest. Had he been breathing this loud this whole time ? You could hear him from so close, inhaling and exhaling louder and louder.

“Peter…”

“No. Please… No…” He knew from you slightly pleading and saddened tone, that you were going to ask him to let you go. He couldn’t.

“I came here to talk with you Peter.” You sighed, letting him pull you even closer.

“I know. Fuck…” His finger detached themselves from you, one by one. It felt slow but was quicker than what you thought.

He looked at you, pleading with his eyes, begging for an opening, explanations, anything. He wasn’t just desperate, he needed this. He was being selfish, and childish, but he couldn’t just ignore it. After a decade of refraining it all, he couldn’t wait a second longer.

You watched him drop his bag and run his hands over his face. You stayed quite while he attempted to conceal the scream he let out. He backed up, pacing in front of the door, with a distressed look on his face.

“Peter…” You tried, stopped by him suddenly turning to face you.

“Ten years. Ten fucking years without you.” He declared, looking at you with what resembled anger. “Do you know how fucking dead inside your absence made me feel ? How each day was killing me a little more ?”

You wished you could’ve said something inspiration or dramatic, like in the movies. Instead, you chuckled, turning away from him. You could feel the anger rising and this time, it wasn’t just little parts of you.

“My absence was killing you huh Peter ? But when I was there it literally felt like I wasn’t ?”

“So you just fucking leave ? You leave me behind like I don’t matter ?” He responded, his voice raising in the heat of the moment.

“So just like you did !” You screamed, your voice cutting through the air and resonating in his head.

It was the first time he’d ever truly seen you scream in anger because of him. There was something murderous in the way you were looking at him right now, like he had never made you feel anything positive, anything good. You were looking at him like an enemy and it was killing him. Because he knew, he had messed up your friendship and anything more that could’ve happened but he couldn’t help being made at you for not giving him a proper chance. If not for him or you, for the two kids who used to joke about how they’d get married after college.

You wanted things to be civil, you wanted this to be a discussion, but it was so hard to tame the younger you who had spent years screaming inside, begging for him to feel just as bad as you did. You covered your face, breathing in and out, trying to regain your composure. You could feel him get closer to you and while you wanted to push him away this time, you couldn’t . You were too tired for this. One singular scream had exhausted you, but it wasn’t enough.

“I wish I could hate you Peter for making me feel like shit for an entire decade, even when you weren’t even there.” You began, smiling sadly while he tried not to cry. “Do you know how it feels to see your best friend fall in love for someone else ? For a girl as awesome as Gwen Stacy ? I didn’t , but I learned. Because that’s how it went. And I wished that it wouldn’t change anything between us, but when you love Peter, you love with everything you have. I had to learn that I got lucky when you showed me how much I mattered to you because you loved me with every good feeling you had in you. And I couldn’t be happier knowing that Gwen got to feel this. I just wish I would’ve known that it meant you wouldn’t have anymore space for me. That’s the story Peter. That’s us.”

If the world was caving under his feet, he probably wouldn’t feel it. While you felt a weight being lifted off of your shoulders, he just felt crushed under the guilt. That was the power you had on him, the kind he tried to forget or ignore. He was a fucking moron, and had been for years. Ignoring the spider, his senses and basic logic, he could feel how much pain you felt, had to go through because of him. Whatever you felt, he could feel it, good or bad. And he had been able to for years. It was a you and him thing, freaky in the eyes of others but normal for you both.

Walking towards you, his hands slowly moved towards your face, delicately holding onto it, caressing your flexed jaw muscles and trying to unclench it for you. He couldn’t stand seeing you, his bubble of light and happiness so angry and hurt, he just couldn’t. His hands were cold suddenly and your face warm, like the sun. He could feel the humidity under his skin, he made you cry. He lifted your face to look at him and saw it. Your beautiful eyes, reddened by tears.

“No, no, no, pumpkin please… Don’t cry… Please, I’m begging you…” He pleaded, trying to keep his voice calm despite wanting to scream at the top of his lungs. “I’m sorry… Please, love… I’m sorry sweetheart… Please don’t cry, you… You can’t… You have to smile and be happy, the happiest in the world…”

You scoffed, pushing him away with a faint smile. You wiped your face and sniffed loudly before turning towards him with the same forced smile he hated.

“I don’t want your apology Peter… God, I’m happy for you. You deserve to be with someone like Gwen, she’s incredible.”

“Stop. Don’t say that. I don’t want you to be happy for me. I want you to hate me.” He sighed, looking away.

“Would that be easier for you ?” You asked, genuinely trying to make it easier for him.

“Fuck, can you stop thinking about me !? It has to be easier for you ! You matter, I don’t !” He exclaimed, trying to pull you out of this state you were in. “I want you to hate me because that’s what would be right ! I broke your heart and you wish me the best with a girl I can’t look at without remember just how impossible it is for me to love her as much as I love you !”

In that moment, you felt the air in your lungs, disappear, sucked out by his words. You wanted to believe, you and all the versions you went through before now. The past yous who tried so hard to believe that they’d be okay not hearing about him or seeing him happy with another. They were all jumping in joy, all but one, the you from now. That you had seen all the delusion and false hope and she couldn’t let herself be fooled.

“Peter…” You started, but were stopped by his eyes, warning you silently, that if you spoke a single word, he’d loose it.

He marched towards you, pulled you by the arm to have his chest against yours. He could feel your heartbeat and just how much you were shaking, not in fear but anxiety. You were waiting for the other shoe to drop.

His palm was rough on your skin, but so warm, it felt like the rays of sun that would hit as soon as you’d wake up. They burnt your eyes a little but they felt good after a little. That was Peter, burning like the Sun. You could feel how hard he was trying to give you time, to wait for you to recognize his touch and all the love that was flowing through it, but you couldn’t, not when so much time had passed.

“Don’t even fucking try and stop me from saying whatever it is that I want to say. It’s been ten years without you, and definitely more years of refrained feelings. You always told me to live a life with no regrets and I tried but that’s fucking hard when the biggest regret in my life is letting you go and every passing day is a reminder of that. Even my favorite student turned out to be a punishment for letting you go. All of you lost over temporary happiness.”

“You don’t mean that Peter.” You scoffed, taking his hands off of your face and walking away. His eyes followed your every step, desperately trying to keep up. He recused to lose sight of you again.

"Why is it so hard to believe that i needed you ?! That i couldn't go one without you ?!"

“Because when I was there, Peter, you made it clear that you couldn’t love the both of us. It was either your best friend or your girlfriend and I know you. You couldn’t make that decision and act on it without feeling like shit, so I did it for you, because that’s what a best friend does. I did what would be right for the three of us. Every second we’d spend together after you met her was about Gwen. How pretty she was, how smart she was, how brave she was. Even helping you with your Spiderman activities had become a thing for the both of us. It doesn’t take a genius to get the memo Peter.”

“And from that… From that you thought you had to leave ?”

“I didn’t just leave Peter. You made me feel like an intruder, and I love you Buddy, but I’m not going to stick myself into an uncomfortable situation just because you don’t want to lose me or whatever. Even for you, I refuse to force myself into a painful situation to make you happy, you might be worth it, but whichever part of myself I would’ve lost wouldn’t be.”

Every word you said felt a little more painful but necessary to Peter. He needed to hear this, all of it. He wished things would be different, these words would be said in any other context, but it had to happen that way. He hadn’t been the only one hurting for all this time, you’d been hurting too and for far longer. He hated the idea of bringing you pain and now that things started to clear, he knew that if he had been given the opportunity to choose, he would’ve chosen to protect you too.

“I’m sorry pumpkin… So, so, so sorry… I wish I could do or say something to make myself look better but fuck… I failed on all accounts. As your best friend and everything else. You did what I never would’ve had the balls to do and it hurts… Because I let you believe that I would’ve chosen her over you when it would always be you… Even in my wildest dreams or without me getting to choose, it’s you. And I’m sorry it took me you being gone for noticing. I’m sorry…” He declared, letting out all the shit he wished he would’ve said when he started to realize.

You walked back in front of the entry doors, sitting down and crossing your legs. The elementary teacher let out a heavy sigh before meeting you on the floor. It felt just like old times, having you both seating on the floor next to each other, doing nothing much but being there for the other. It was as silent as it used to be, adding the faint wall you had built between you both. He tried to let it be, but Peter Parker just couldn’t do that, not even ten years after.

He laid his head on your lap, nuzzling against your skin and hiding his face into the fabric of your dress. You stayed still, watching him fully lay on the pavement and turn to face your stomach. Your eyes crossed his, the man casting you a quick glance and a grin before pushing his nose into your belly. You didn’t budge, welcomed him despite the deep desire to reject him. Desire was the funniest word of that whole sentence, funny considering the fact that it was a lie.

“I didn’t want you to leave. I’d never want you gone, pumpkin. And I’ll spend the rest of this lifetime working for your forgiveness. Even if it means that you forgive a grave.”

Your hand ran through his hair and you smiled honestly, for the first time since you had joined him for this little discussion you were having. You could feel his smile again your stomach but you could also feel the guilt grow and spread.

“You’re not being fair Peter.” You exhaled, taking your hand off his face and forcing him to look at you. “Not to me, yourself or Gwen, the awesome woman who loves you with every piece of her.”

Groaning against your body, he sat up, looking into your eyes with a playful grin.

“Gwen hasn’t been in love with me for nine years pumpkin. And I haven’t for a good decade.” He declared, the small smile on his face growing when he saw your confused expression. He was a simple man, and there was something absolutely adorable about your face when you were confused. The scrunch of your nose and the frown that made it look like he had said the stupidest thing ever was a hilarious combo he missed over the years.

“What the actual fuck are you talking about Peter ?” You asked, sounding a little angrier than you wanted. You weren’t going to get your hopes up but said hopes seemed to fly without the help of a pilot.

He chuckled, smile growing even wider. His hands took hold of your wrists, pulling you to his chest, between his parted legs. It was unnecessary to the story but he wanted to hold you, and by the time you weren’t going to push him away, he wasn’t going to stop himself. He wrapped his arms around your waist after placing yours on his shoulders before explaining himself.

“Gwen left for London after we graduated high school. We tried long distance but it just reminded me that you weren’t there either. We broke up, stayed good friends. I’m her son’s god father, she’s married now. Even has her own lab and stuff.”

Your expression got even worse and when you heard him try and keep in a laugh you couldn’t stop the punch to his biceps. It hurt a little but fuck that.

“Don’t laugh, you little shit ! What are you talking about ?!” You exclaimed, glaring at him.

“It’s as simple as it sounds pumpkin.” He said cradling your cheek tenderly. If you weren’t busy connecting the dots, you’d be swooning right now. “We broke up when she forced me to confront the fact that while she wasn’t there I wasn’t missing her as much as we both hoped I would. Even before that I was missing something else though, you. Hell, I was craving you, pumpkin. I needed you so much. And I still do.”

His words sounded so distant, echoing in your head. In a few seconds, your entire personality, the one you’d built to be Peter Parker proof was shot down and destroyed completely. You tried to keep your composure and stand your ground but it was useless. Maybe it was the fact that he was touching you, or the way he was looking at you, like you were the very reason why he kept breathing. You wanted to fold, all of you wanted that. But what you wanted didn’t matter, and after a decade of building yourself into a concrete wall, you weren’t going to fold so easily.

“Fuck you Peter.” You spat, looking at him with doubt before you stood up.

You couldn’t take a single step before being pulled backwards. Checking your dress and him, you noticed the long white web coming out of his webshooters and attaching itself to you. You squealed loudly as you dropped back onto his lap and this time, were kept between his arms. He wasn’t going to let you run off again, not when you could disappear for another decade. You tried to escape him by trashing around but he was quick to grab your wrists and force you to stay still by giving you this classic look that he would rarely use but would when it was necessary. You called it “The Brooding Spider Eyes”.

“Stop fighting me and try to listen for a second.” He ordered in a low voice that sent shivers all through your body. The more you’d look into his eyes, the fuzzier you’d get inside, that was the effect Peter Parker had on you, the deadly kind. You wanted to run, it was so much easier to run from him and to hide. After all this time, you couldn’t avoid it anymore, all that growth and improvement you tried to protect it wasn’t actual improvement, just you being able to forget him because he wasn’t there to remind you.

You were still the young girl who had begged her parents not to go to her own graduation, crying, because she was terrified of seeing him. They couldn’t understand and neither could you, all you knew was that seeing him with her was killing you. They had forced you to go but drove you home straight after, before he could even reach you. Then started the Great Cleaning of your entire existence on social medias and through your friends. You blocked a big majority of your high school except a very small group, changed your passwords because he had them all, deleted your pictures together, your socials and so on.

You had erased yourself to not be forced to confront the fact that you’d been in love with your best friend.

“Why didn’t you tell me, pumpkin ?” He muttered, his eyes fixated on your lips.

You knew exactly what he was referring to and that made you want to run even more, because that meant he knew and that also meant you were risking rejection. You tried to look away but he quickly took hold of your jaw and made you face him.

“Stop trying to look away, look at me and answer. Why didn’t you confess ?”

“Why would I ?” You responded softly, defeated. “You had a girlfriend, Peter. And you talked about her as if she was the brightest star in the universe. You told me about how great she was before you even told her you liked her, that was enough for me to understand that I wouldn’t stand a chance against that kind of love. And I know you would’ve tried to figure out the best solution to accommodate everyone, which would end up with you unhappy so I took the decision on my own.”

When your explanation finished, you tried to hide within yourself, lowering your head and turning it away from his. He kept your wrists tightly held while he searched your eyes softly, he needed to look into your beautiful eyes and see for himself, see the pain you’d been hiding from him for years. He wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, he knew that, but he was your best friend, you were his too. Hell, you were his everything, he should’ve known, and either you were the greatest pretender known to man or he just didn’t pay attention to you well enough, and he refused to believe that, because all Peter ever did was pay attention to you.

Blinded by your existence and borderline desperate to feel you at all times, he needed to observe you to be happy during the day, to see you well and smiling, otherwise he’d ruin whatever stood in your way, and that’s was what he thought was normal. Yeah, he clearly wasn’t the smartest and it took him years, but he knew as soon as you were gone that you weren’t just his best friend.

He closed his eyes and slid a hand behind your neck, delicately holding you still. The other reached up to your cheek, cradling it tenderly while his nose rubbed against yours. Never in his life had he wanted to see into your eyes more. The air in his lungs was gone, replaced by this unhealthy need to have you look at him. The years of ignorance started to pile up and he just couldn’t help the feeling in his chest. The kind of feeling that screamed to be explored, let out and exposed to the world.

“Pumpkin, please…” He pleaded, kissing your cheek softly.

You were moving out of his way but your body needed him to kiss you more, you wanted him to love you like this, just a little more.

“Stop…” You muttered, feeling his breath on your neck.

“I can’t… Don’t ask me to stop, please…” He said, rubbing his nose against your jaw.

There was something so intimate about the way his was searching for you, desperately waiting to be allowed in your space again, not just o’ the outside but on the inside. After ten years, you still brought him down on his knees, acting like a touch starved infant.

When you lifted your head, trying to save your own pride and avoid his lips, he did the same, forcing you both to face the other. He let out an exasperated breath, his eyes closed and his expression showing the inside pain he tried to hide. Both your forehead held against the other, you closed your eyes softly, turning away from him but keeping your faces close. When he thought you’d run again, he felt your hand on his cheek and suddenly could breath again. When you kissed his cheek, like you used too when you both very clearly needed this kids of intimacy, he smiled. The honest, goofy smile he was rarely showing these days.

“I’m sorry…” You whispered, finally giving in to whatever was pulling you to him so hard.

You kissed his cheek again, slowly going down to his jaw and his neck. Maybe you shouldn’t go so far after pushing him away so much, but Peter wasn’t the only one craving the other. You needed him just as badly. And he most likely wasn’t going to push you away, not when the feeling of your plump lips on his skin just made his heart stop a little more each time you’d kiss him.

When your hand ended up in his hair, playing with the brown locks, he knew he would do anything you told him. He was yours to play with right now, just like he was back then. He couldn’t stop himself from needing more but he’d start by taking everything you gave him like the greedy bastard he was.

“I’m sorry Spidey…” You repeated, kissing his chin.

There was absolutely nothing platonic about that, and maybe if you weren’t so fucking stupid you would’ve noticed earlier since you’d been doing this kinds of stuff for years. Everything was familiar and it still took you a decade to notice the very obvious situation you were both in. You truly were a match made in heaven.

His hands dropped down, freeing your wrists and instead, taking hold of your waist. Even that, he couldn’t do for long, too weak in the knees to hold you as strongly as he wished. There had to be some kind of magic in the way you touched him because his entire body suddenly felt like cotton candy.

You held his face and pulled away, ignoring the displeased growl coming out of him. You looked at his face, admiring it and swallowing back tears. You needed that man more than you needed air and you couldn’t ignore that fact any longer. You hated it, hated love and being so desperate and dependent on him but you couldn’t help it, clearly you had no control over anything anymore. You were working on autopilot.

“Kiss me again, please…” He asked, his voice so soft and polite, you swooned internally.

“I think we should talk instead…” You smiled, tenderly.

His eyes opened wide, a frown draw on his face. He looked funny and you knew that’s exactly what he was aiming at with the fake offended look. When he smacked his hand on his chest dramatically, you couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

“Oh ! So, now you want to talk ? After I practically had to bed you to just look at me ? Okay, princess. Let’s do it your way then, fuck me and what I want right ?” He sassed, looking around dramatically.

When your laugh resonated louder, he felt peace all over again. Nothing could calm him better than your smile so the power of your laugh was godly. He grinned when you tried to catch your breath, but instead practically fell to the floor. Thanks to the quick reflexes, he caught you by the front of your dress and pulled you to his chest.

“I’m sorry ! I just… I just couldn’t… Handle talking to you ? I don’t know… We haven’t in so long and suddenly everything was going to go back to normal… I couldn’t handle that… What if we talked and you realized how awful I was and am still now ?”

“Awful ? Pumpkin, don’t worry about being awful. I just pulled every toxic trick in the book to get you to look at me. And I couldn’t most likely do ten times worse if it means having you talk to me. You made me a desperate man, sweetheart.” He nodded with a playful smile.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and grinned. This felt right, peaceful, like it used to. But there was still a little bit of things that needed to be discussed first.

“Peter, You’re aware that I’m in love with you right ? Like, romantically ?” You asked, hesitant and slightly anxious about the question all together.

“Yeah I’m aware.” He responded tilting his head to the side. “Thank God, you are. Otherwise our relationship would be very awkward, pumpkin.” He smirked.

You smiled but froze when you heard his words.

“Relationship ? Like you and me ? Dating ? Like a couple ? Like people in love who hold hands and kiss and go on dates ? Like, actually dating ?”

The whole babbling was adorable and he wanted to stay looking at you in silence while you just kept talking but he needed to clear things up first. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him with a smile that said just enough. The kind you’d give to someone you loved more than a friend and definitely more than a person you liked.

“Pumpkin, listen to me and listen to me well.” Taking your face in his large hands, he kissed your forehead tenderly. “You’re my girlfriend and you’ll become more soon enough too. I’m not letting you run away from me again. Yes, this is a romantic kidnapping. Yes I intend on marrying you one day, if you’re not tired of me by that time. But yeah, we’re together in all senses of the term. In an actual romantic relationship.” Each word was separated by soft kisses all over your face, from your forehead to your cheek. He made sure to make you plead for more by kissing the corner of your mouth and your neck. Peter knew how to make you weak too.

“You’re okay with being my boyfriend, Pete ? I have a tendency to run, and I’m pretty fast.”

“I’m faster than you.” He responded quickly.

“I have issues with choosing myself too, I tend to put others first.”

“Great, I get to put you first instead. But we’re going to work on that whole people pleasing thing you’ve got going on.”

“I’ve got a niece who bites and protects me like I’m made of gold too.” You added, remembering events between your exes and your little niece.

“Oh really ? You’re pulling the niece card ?” He asked playfully. When you nodded with a large smile, he kissed your neck. “Good luck with that sweetheart because your niece loves me. She gives me a piece of the deserts you bake her every time she has some. Practically sure she chose me to be yours. Can that be considered a form of conditioning ? I don’t know, but I don’t mind.” It was his turn to babble, but it was more than fine, you loved it and so did he, seeing the laugh coming out of you was worth all of it.

You both stayed there for a little more, him watching you while he told the dumbest jokes ever and you laughing until your stomach started to hurt. You were back to who you had left behind years ago, who you could only be with the other. You were finally feeling the weight of lying to yourself for years. It felt right. You wanted to slap yourself for taking so many years to understand that lying wouldn’t make you feel any better, but it was a necessary period in a way. No mistakes, only fun experiences or lessons to learn from.

You were catching your breath when his thumb pulled on your lower lip, staring at your mouth with the kind of hunger he never felt for anyone else. You held his wrist in both hands while he kept playing with your lip. You knew what he was looking for and what you were waiting for too, the real question was, who was going to take the first step.

The answer was easy, you were. Leaning forward, you pecked his lips and retreated back to see him lose it right in front of your eyes. You expected a reaction but not to be pinned to the floor and be kissed with the kind of might that Thor himself would be surprised by.

Was he touch starved ? Not really, or maybe yes. But your touch was what he wanted. Gone was the soft moments from earlier, he was trying to show you exactly what your absence had done to him. One his hands grabbed your neck and pulled you to him with force, the other placed on the small of your back and pushing you forward, making your arch your back. He was holding your nape tightly and pushed his face towards yours, lips puckering before covering yours passionately. His fingers lowered, rubbing your thick thighs while his arm wrapped around your body.

He was working his lips with ease on yours, making your insides melt into a puddle at each move of his. His tongue was pushed deep in your mouth, making you moan, and you knew you weren’t going to last longur kissing like this. Not with the obscene tingle buzzing between your legs. He smiled into the kiss, knowing exactly what you were feeling. You couldn’t hide from him and his heightened senses. He licked the inside of your cheek, feeling his ego grow when you whimpered, pleading as if you were pushing yourself against him.

When he pulled away, the messy kiss left you numb and still on the floor. You were trying your best to catch your breath and settle your mind all at once. He stayed silent, watching you while rubbing his thumb over your flesh. When you felt calm enough, your eyes noticed the sign o’ top of your head that held the name of your niece’s school. Right. You were literally on the floor.

“Your brain’s still working pumpkin ?” He asked playfully.

You looked towards him in confusion.

“Why are we on the floor Parker ? And were you going to fuck me in front of my niece’s school ? In the street ?”

“Well, not at first. But now that you mention it, that could be a great idea, don’t you think ?”

The punch that followed was deserved, and he had supersenses to dodge so no excuse. You sat up while he was laughing and fixed your dress before getting up. He soon followed and looked at you up and down.

“That dress is made for you. You look beautiful.” He said, his eyes showing the kind of love and sweetness that could make you drop to your knees. You were weak to compliments but his were just different, they came from the man you loved and unfortunately you couldn’t resist those.

You looked away, hiding your smile when the man you now called your boyfriend lifted you up in his arms. You held onto him, tightly holding his neck while he laughed like he had just done the funniest thing ever.

“We’re taking a shortcut back to my place. I have a lot of things to talk about with you.”

No talking was done. Absolutely none. Maybe you should’ve seen it coming but you liked being delusional, it made life a constant surprise. Now, to say you were surprised by how the events had turned, would be lying again. You expected some kind of intimacy with Peter, but never that strong. You both ended up being swept away by the wave of desire you felt and were letting yourself drown, it was fine, you were drowning together.

There was something divine about the vision in front of him and the sensations born from said vision. If he could paint, or turn his memories into pictures, he would’ve made you the biggest one, kept hidden from the public for his eyes only. He was simple, to the point of being slightly stupid maybe, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to worship the very ground you walked on after tonight and even more now that you were gracing him with more pleasure, the kind that even his wildest dreams couldn’t provide.

“P-Pumpkin… Please b-baby… Please…”

He was sobbing softly, crying tears of pleasure under your mischievous smile. He was close and he needed his release but he didn’t want it to come just yet, he didn’t want it to stop, not so soon. He couldn’t hold on longer but he needed more, always needed more of you. Again, greedy, he wouldn’t deny it, but could you blame him ? You had rocked his world and left him to fend for himself for over a decade.

Maybe it was his senses, maybe it was the years of intrusive sexual thoughts or wet dreams that were just all working against him in that moment. All of these were good hypotheses for his current state but he was too fucked out and dumb to think about them clearly. His brain wasn’t processing much right now but one thing that was for sure is that he had his cock nestled deep inside you, so deep that he could see how pretty his thick shaft looked through your belly,

Inhuman quantities of cum were dripping out of your pussy in the most obscene ways, pouring down your inner thighs and other places on your body , and he was certain that he was going to shoot out more in the next seconds if you kept on torturing him like that with your pretty lips, all swollen from him fucking your thoughts and tasting his own cum in your mouth. Another thing he knew was that all that cum, he’d pound it back into you as soon as his brain would gain back a little bit of that power he had earlier, before you turned him into a literal puppet, ready to obey your every command.

He was squirming and crying more by the second, needy for just a little bit of peace but also begging for you to use him more. He was absolutely fucked, that was another certainty with you around. Less than a day back into his life and he was already going crazy, the rest of eternity would be fun for you both.

You could’ve been a little nicer and actually moved on top of him but it was your turn to have him dumb and begging for you.

“Come on, Pete… I-Ah… I know… Y-You can give me a little m-more of you… Please b-baby, I just need it… G-Give me all of it… Please…” The sound of your moans so close to his ear made him lose himself a little more.

You started off slowly, using your knees to raise yourself on his cock until it slipped out. You saw how hard it was, covered in both your cum and leaking thick droplets of more. He was full, so full, he could explode. Never had he been this aroused but that was until you. His entire body was releasing years of attempts to calm himself down with his hands in one night and he wasn’t strong enough to take it. Lucky him you didn’t seem to give a fuck about that, enjoying the whimpering mess you’d turned him into.

The restraint he wanted to say he had was slowly disappearing, with his capacity to think straight. You kissed his earlobe and bit his jaw, making him shiver and cry a little more. His own body was betraying him, searching for that friction, the utmost level of contact with you. He tried to stay still and silent but couldn’t and started moving

Rubbing your folds on his tip, you saw his eyes roll to the back of his head, oh how the table have turned. His hands were tightly wrapped around your waist but started sliding down to your ass, ready to grip on you and slam you down on his cock. He wanted that, god he wanted so many things right now. But all of it was about you.

Poor man felt like a teenager going through puberty all over again. His face was as red and a cheery and the more you teased, the worst it got. His skin was burning so much, you couldn't last long while touching it. That was what an overstimulated Peter felt like. His hips kept bucking up, trying to push at least a few inches of him inside you. Fuck, he needed to feel your warm walls or else he'd go crazy.

“B-Baby… Baby Fuck… Please, I’m sorry… Please… P-Please, please, please… Lemme fuck you Pumpkin… Please ? Lemme feel that dripping pussy all around me… Fuck, please baby, let me inside…” He sobbed, unable to stop squirming while he could feel your entrance clench on his tip.

You looked down at yourself then at him. He was still whimpering and squirming, his entire body shaking as he pleaded with his eyes for you.

You smirked before fully sitting down on his cock, letting it take all the space inside you, filling you up exactly like it should. Looking down, you could see his tip poking through again and so could he, he was definitely looking.

“P-Peter ! Fuck, P-Peter ! Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck ! F-Feels… Feels so good !”

When you started bouncing on him again, fully jumping on his fat cock and letting the large throbbing girth invade you like nothing ever had before, he lost himself under you. He watched with admiration how your tits, still covered in cum from earlier, were bouncing up and down too. Fuck, his balls felt more full just from that image alone.

Tight and aching to be emptied, he could stop himself from getting more aroused. You leaned back, giving him full view of your pussy wrapped around him, sinking down on his entire length and taking every inch. Your dripping cunt was truly made for him, swallowing his dick down to the very last millimeter and moaning out for more like a bitch in heat.

His hands grabbed onto your waist, holding it tightly before he started to slam you down on his dick himself. As established before, he was a mess, but one thing he was good at was pleasuring you. No matter what, he’d always find a way to make you feel good. That night alone had been a sufficient proof of that.

At first he had been worried that using too much strength on you would hurt you, but when he noticed how much you loved being tossed around, he could hold back any longer, and he didn’t try to. He used the abilities given by the spider bite with care and if you wanted, he’d use them on you too. Today was the strength and tomorrow it could be the webs, who knew ?

“Y-You cockdrunk minx… Y-You like that huh ? Like it as much as I do…… That pussy’s killing me Pumpkin… Fuck, fuck, fuck… Please baby, tell me you like that… Like it when I fuck you stupid…” He begged, his lower parts guiding his thoughts and controlling his words.

“Y-Yes ! God yes ! Peter please ! M-More cock ! Please, gimme more ! Please !” You cried loudly, so loudly that your voice could probably be heard by the entire building. They probably weren’t used to the nice teacher neighbor bringing in this kind of company.

Slamming your poor weakened body on his cock with the strength of a bull in heat, he fed on the sounds resonating around the room. Your moans and cries of pleasure topped with loud sounds of your thighs slapping against his were the biggest ego boost ever. What truly did the work though was the sound of his sack slapping hard against your folds. Soft and swollen in contrast with the hard flesh of his balls. He was close, way too close.

Your entire body went numb, the thick load of cum you’d been begging for, invading every crevice of your pussy and oozing out of your already filled inside. Your little whimpers were the only thing that could be heard, with his own sounds. He’d never felt this defenseless before, weak to his instinct and clearly enjoying it.

Soon, he started moving his hips up and down, reaching for his end. His actions were so aggressive you couldn't even meet his thrusts or move freely, he was in control all while looking like he wanted to drown in your pussy. He was so red, just looking at his flushed cheeks and crossed eyes while he plowed into you made you even wetter. That reaction, you knew he loved it even more when his thick mushroom shaped tip pushed into your weak spot even harder.

He couldn’t avoid it anymore and you wanted it so badly, he could only oblige. He kept pounding into your spot, the throbbing head of his girth vibrating impatiently, he bit on his lip, his eyes crossed and his hands holding onto you for dear life. It wasn’t long before he came but he wouldn’t be the only one, never.

“F-Fuck… Ah, P-Pumpkin My sweet… Fuck, sweet princess… Taking… T-Taking everything from me… All that cum, all of it… All f-for you baby… All of me… Take it, take all of it…” He muttered, incapable to think of coherent sentences.

You were both trembling on the other, Peter still cumming inside you and you close to your end. He was dramatic and had he been able too, he would’ve most likely scolded himself for cumming first. But now wasn’t the time, instead, he pulled your warm body down, your breasts in his face just like he loved, and got to work.

He sucked one of your tits in his mouth while rubbing his thumb over the nipple of the other. His free hand was playing with your lower parts, rubbing on your clit while two of his fingers slid inside you. You arched your back, pushing your breasts in his face while he toyed with you. He loved that, finding put new ways of ruining you, even when you were already a mess. He’d play until you stopped him or until you passed out on top of him. A little sick, but that was Peter and you loved him exactly like that.

His fingers pushed around inside your filled cunt, pulling out to be covered in his cum. There was something about the image that filled him with pride. Maybe the way you accepted to be filled that way by him.

Letting go of your tits with both his mouth and hand, he laid it on your back, caressing you tenderly. His face went up to your neck, inhaling your scent and his mixed together perfectly. He kissed your jaw, cheek, neck and basically everything he could reach. His tongue licked small parcels of skin after each kiss, taking your taste with him. He was being tender and soft while his fingers kept rubbing on your clit. You didn’t last long before letting your sweet juices coat his large member and drip all over him. The sounds of your cries of pleasure in his ears were like music, the music he had dreamt of for years and finally he could hear it live.

You both stayed connected together, the poor man couldn’t handle the idea of pulling out and neither could you. Each breath you took ended up with him jumping out of nowhere. He would apologize but you could hear the laugh in his voice. He enjoyed this.

You stayed on top of him, your face, buried in his messy hair and his scent filling your senses. His face was in the crook of your neck, dropping butterfly kisses on your skin and biting when he felt especially playful. His hands stayed on your back, caressing you tenderly while his hips rolled under you. Yeah, he never said he’d stop moving, and in his defense, you were moving too.

“Hey, Pete. Do you think we would’ve ended up meeting each other again ? Even if you weren’t my niece’s teacher ?” You asked softly, kissing the crown of his head and siting up straight.

He smiled under you, his warm palm cradling your cheek and wiping remnants of your tears from earlier. He looked at you and you felt like you were the center of the universe. Because you were, the center of the universe and mostly of his universe. He was in love with you, and so were you. But no words could ever truly express how much he loved you, none.

“Listen to me.” He started, sitting straight to face you and stare into your eyes. “In every lifetime, planet, dimension, universe, whatever you want. In every single one of these, you and I, we find each other again. No matter what we do or who we are. Because you’re my soulmate, pumpkin. You’re everything to me, my everything. And I’ll let myself get swallowed by a black hole before I let anything change that. So yes, I don’t just think, I know we would’ve found each other again. We always do and we always will.”

There was some parts of truth in Peter's words and you both felt it, from the moment you met to the present. There was no way of explaining it or why but you knew you were soulmates. From the bottom pf your hearts you both knew it, because beyond words and actions, you were tied to the other. It was impossible to separate you both and doing so would never last, because you always found your way back to the other. Maybe it was fate or some kind of guardian angel, but you both knew it to be true.

You were soulmates and you had found you way back to the other again. With the help of your niece that you would both shower in bakeries. Maybe she was the guardian angel, who knew.

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prettytoxicrevolver · 1 year

Text

Breathe | Mitch Marner

You and Mitch break up after you receive some news

warnings? angst. so so so much angst.

wc: 1.8k

Mitch was your soulmate.

All your life you knew Mitch was your soulmate, your twin flame, your person. From the moment you two met each other, you knew he was it for you. You were certain you were going to be together forever. Whether it be through friendship or a relationship, you knew the two of you could never be truly separated from each other.

Together you sat, a beach towel spread out underneath the two of you. Your head resting on his chest as his right arm wraps around you. You feel his left hand trail down your side until it reaches your free hand. Your hand lays flat on your stomach and Mitch rests his hand on top of yours, slotting his fingers into yours. His grip is soft. His thumb trailing soft touches on the side of your hand making you sigh in content.

“What are you thinking about?” he whispers as your eyes glaze lazily over the stars above.

“Everything,” you begin. “Nothing.”

“That’s a lot. Wanna narrow it down?”

Truth be told, you have been off for a while now. Mitch couldn’t tell what it was but you hadn’t been telling him everything. That alone, was a criminal offense ever since the two of you were kids.

You had been struggling with simultaneous great news and bad news all week. Your mom hasn't been doing well, still in the hospital after a nasty fall. And yet, you just received the perfect job offer across the country. Your heart had felt like cheering and sobbing all at once.

“Just about mom, you, work,” you explain vaguely.

You feel Mitch’s eyes on you, his head moving just barely to look down at your relaxed state. You knew you’d have to tell him everything soon, but you were nervous. What did any of this mean for the two of you?

You sit up, cutting off any physical touch between you and Mitch at all. You run your hands through your hair before resting your elbows on your knees. You drop your face into your hands and let out a sigh, knowing you’re going to have to tell Mitch.

“What is it darling?” he asks, reaching up to rub your back slowly.

“My mom’s sick again,” you start and Mitch offers you a sympathetic look. “And I don’t know when she’ll be out of the hospital.”

“Oh baby,” Mitch says and you shake your head.

“But uh, I got a job though,” you push on and a light smile appears on Mitch’s face.

“Honey I’m so proud of you! And you haven’t even graduated yet!” he cheers, pulling you close and pressing kisses to your cheeks. He holds your face in his hands, looking at you with admiration you feel like you don’t deserve.

“It’s across the country.”

His face falls, his hands slipping from you and you shiver from the lack of heat his touch brings you. Your eyes search his, trying to gauge his reaction. For once, his baby blue eyes don’t tell you anything, they just look hurt.

“What are you going to do?” he asks carefully.

“I don’t know,” you whisper and Mitch stares quietly, before his head dips in a slow nod.

“I don’t want you to leave.”

“But you can’t leave here,” you respond and you knew this is what you were afraid of.

For you and Mitch it was always all or nothing. Sometimes that was the issue. You both loved so deeply and have for so long that sometimes you were blind to things that needed to be let go or held onto.

“Talk more tomorrow?” he offers and you nod.

You had practically wracked your brain all night and all day before seeing Mitch again. You wanted to stay with him, make sure your mom was okay, find a job here. But the latter was your dream job, something you had been wanting since you were 16. How could you give it up?

You head over to Mitch’s for dinner, the two of you making small talk the entire time. Your news from the night before hanging over like an impending hurricane that neither of you really knew how bad was going to be. After dinner the two of you laid together on the couch, neither one of you wanting to start a conversation that you didn’t know how it was going to end.

Mitch taps your leg, making you look over at him. He leans over, pressing a long kiss to your lips. You relish in the feeling of his closeness, never wanting to let go but when you do, your eyes flutter open to meet his.

“What do you want to do?” He asks and you shake your head, eyes closing again.

“I don’t know. This job is all I’ve ever wanted. But so are you.”

“And your mom?” he asks.

“I want to stay, make sure she’s better. But I know my dad’s here to help and is in much better shape than she is.”

Mitch won’t meet your gaze, his eyes falling to your hands. He plays with your fingers running his touch over your hands causing you to shiver slightly at the contact.

“You have to go.”

You look up at him with shock, and Mitch still won’t meet your gaze. You pull your legs up underneath you, a stray tear falling down your cheek as you take a deep breath and weigh your next words.

“So you don’t want me to stay.”

“Of course I want you to stay,” he says, finally looking at you.

“Then tell me to,” you beg, taking his hands and pulling them to make him really look at you.

“I can’t do that. You’ve worked so hard for this job I can’t be the reason you give it up.”

“I wouldn’t give it up just for you,” you explain and Mitch shakes his head before standing up in front of you.

Mitch paces the room for a minute, thoughts racing through his head. He couldn’t leave you, but he couldn’t make you stay for selfish reasons. You were his whole world and without you he didn’t know what was left. The world was a dimmer place without you around.

He tried and tried and tried, he wanted to be supportive and tell you to go but it was eating him up inside. He wanted to be quiet, watch you drive off and mourn your relationship in silence and yet he couldn’t. He couldn’t let you go that easily.

“I can’t let you give up this opportunity for me,” he repeats and now you stand up to face him.

“Mitch,” you say cautiously.

“I’m done,” he says, not meeting your eyes once more.

“What do you mean you’re done?” you ask tears welling up to betray you.

“I can’t be with you. Not when you have a life changing decision like this to make,” he declares, turning away from you.

It was like someone had taken the smallest dagger and pierced your heart, slowly dragging it down the center at every word he says. Your hurt quickly turns to anger, and sadness rushes in like a wave during a massive storm.

“That’s it?” you ask bitterness lacing your voice. “You’re not even going to fight for this. For us?” you practically yell. Mitch flinches at your tone and you cross your arms.

“I can’t do that to you!” he yells back.

“Who said you were?!”

You both stare each other down and it takes all of your willpower not to walk over and wipe away the tears making their way down his cheeks. Mitch never hid anything from you. Never any emotion, any thought, fear, anxiety, nothing. And now here you stood feeling oceans away from the boy who always felt right there with you.

“You have to go,” he whispers and the dagger in your heart has successfully ripped the organ in two.

You nod, as if you can’t even believe it’s Mitch speaking to you right now. You grab your things, heading out to your car and the sound of the door slamming behind you is so deafening it makes both of you flinch.

The minute you get into your car, sobs escape your lips and you know if you started crying now, you wouldn’t be able to stop. You place a shaky hand over your mouth, pulling out of the apartment complex as fast as possible and make your way home.

The minute you’re parked in your driveway, every emotion is let loose. Your heart falls and falls and falls until it’s on the bottom of your car tire, feeling like it got run over a million times. The sob you held back before finally makes its way out and you scream knowing Mitch and you were done.

Your tears flow freely, a mix of anger and sadness flowing with ease through your body that you aren’t sure how long it had been sitting there. You smack your steering wheel, banging the top of it with the palm of your hand wishing on anything above that this situation could have turned out differently.

When the tears subside enough for you to walk inside your house, it occurs to you how late it is. As you step into your room, your eyes gaze over to the clock sitting on your nightstand to read 2:05 a.m. Had you really stayed over Mitch’s that late?

You fall onto your bed, the thought of Mitch crippling you once more. You pull the covers over you and up to your chin, letting out a quiet sob into the fabric. It wasn’t that you had just lost a boyfriend, it felt like you lost your best friend. You knew that the end of you and Mitch, an end like this meant no communication. No chance to still be in each other's lives.

You pull yourself up, trying desperately to wipe away the tears that were never ending. You lost your boyfriend, your best friend, the only one you knew backwards and forwards and vice versa. How could this happen in the span of two days?

Mitch felt like he couldn’t breathe since the minute you walked out the door. His heart ached like you had taken it with you and drove it down the road the entire 20 minutes back to your house. His lungs felt like they had been ripped from his body and thrown into the garbage disposal, of no use when you weren’t around him.

He collapses to the couch, burying his face in his hands and letting out a frustrated scream. The scream dies, turning into quiet sobs that can’t be heard by anyone else. His heart shatters as each tear falls. He knew this was best for you, but how could he continue if he couldn’t breathe without you?

#mitch marner imagine #mitch marner x reader #Mitch marner x y/n #Mitch marner fanfic #maple leafs fanfic #hockey imagine

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azsazz · 2 years

Text

The Calm Beneath the Storm

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Anon Request: Can you maybe make a cute “stormy day with the fam” fic for Az and the kids please? I’m about to be hit by a hurricane so it seemed fitting 🫠

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,175

Notes: Thank you for sending this request! I really hope you're staying safe out there. Sending good thoughts and love!

_________________________________________

You smile down at the sleeping babe nestled to your chest, pressing a soft kiss into her hair and breathing in her addicting scent. She’s only a few months old now but she still smells like a newborn, natural and sweet like freshly baked bread and warm milk.

Malos smiles in her sleep as you begin rubbing her back with one hand while you stir the heating liquid on the stove. Giggles and shrieks from the other room have you grinning to yourself, heart clenching because you’re so intensely in love with your life. With the most handsome mate and six beautiful children, you couldn’t ask for anything better.

Speaking of your mate, his muscular arms wrap around your waist, catching you by surprise, the ever silent spymaster. He places a tender kiss on your cheek, peering over your shoulder at your gorgeous daughter.

“How are my beautiful girls?” he asks softly, taking the whisk from you so he can stir the warming milk.

You return the kiss with one of your own, humming against his lips as you hold him there for a moment, mindful of the babe between you. You send every ounce of warmth down the bond, calm and blissed out on the feeling that he returns, until Baz runs into the kitchen with Zuzu’s hand in his, squealing when he sees his parents kissing.

“Mommy, daddy, come on! We’re all ready for hot cocoa,” he groans, covering his sister's eyes with his hands. She giggles in response, trying to pry off her older brother's fingers.

“Only a few more minutes, Bazzy,” you tell him, biting back a grin as you prepare the mugs on a tray, one for each of you and your family members.

It’s a rainy night in Velaris, the clouds had rolled in deep and dark throughout the day. There’d been no playtime for your children outside and they were restless, running around inside the house all day, begging for you and Azriel to play with them.

It had been your mate's idea, to gather the blankets from the couches and settle them by the warmth of the hearth – not too close – with mugs of hot cocoa for his babies, spending a little time together as a whole family.

He loves doing everything he can with his children. From playing pony to cuddling them tightly he does it all and is happy to do so. His favorite place is being at home with all of the little ones and you always find yourself staring at him, he truly is the best father.

“Why don’t you take these into the other room,” you hand him a plate full of cookies, the seven year old’s eyes lighting up. Zuzu tries to reach for one but Az is scooping her off of the floor and pressing kisses to her blushing cheeks, her squeal of happiness music to your ears.

“Don’t let anyone sneak a cookie,” you tell Baz, who’s nearly drooling at the sweet smell of them. He’d helped you bake them earlier in the day and you’d let him have a taste of the dough, giggling with your little boy secretly over the tasty dessert.

“Okay mommy,” he nods his head vigorously, the stack of cookies wobbling in his hands as he does so. “I won’t let anyone have any, by any means necessary!” He yells, taking off from the room, leaving you with a mortified face, knowing exactly what your second son would do if someone tries to take one. You should’ve chosen your words better.

“I’ve got him,” Az reassures, tickling the little girl in his arms. “I’ll be back to take the tray for you, Love.”

You smile at him gratefully, carefully pouring the warmed cocoa into the glasses, topping them with a bit of whipped cream, extra for your husband. You stack a bowl of mini marshmallows and one with sprinkles onto the tray as well, pulling out all of the stops for this rainy night with your family.

You abandon the tray for Az to take when he returns, heading for the living room where the rest of your children are, squeaking when your mate cheekily pinches your ass on his way to the kitchen.

You place the sleeping babe next to her twin who is also slumbering away in the cradle, kissing both of their foreheads softly before you settle down in the nest of blankets and fluffy cushions from the sofas, Jax climbing up into your lap immediately, half munched on cookie in his small hand.

You raise your eyebrow at Baz who shrugs cheekily, “I couldn’t resist mama.”

You brush your fingers over his hair, smiling, “It’s alright, Love, you did a good job.”

He beams, snuggling into your side, the plate of cookies protected in front of him.

Jax cheers when he sees Azriel, waving his hands vigorously and you lean back, dodging flailing arms. Wren laughs, him and Zuzu playing a clapping game. She stops in favor of crawling towards the tray Azriel sets on the low table beside you all and her brothers follow suit, scrambling up to top their own drinks with the extras you’ve brought out.

Your heart swells at the sight of your mate laughing and trying to get the children to settle down so he can help them, and the table is a mess of stray sprinkles and marshmallows, drops of already spilt cocoa but you wouldn’t have it any other way, to see your children so giddy.

You help Jax with his, letting him top the drink. He takes a fistful of sprinkles and you splutter out a laugh as he shoves them directly into his mouth, having a sweet tooth like his father.

Wiping off his hand, you take the nearly empty bowl of marshmallows for him to snack on, letting him take small sips of your drink while Baz goes around to everyone, allowing them one cookie each from his plate. He grins proudly at you when he whispers in your ear that the rest are for the two of you to split.

You catch the gleam in Azriel’s eyes, his shadows eavesdropping on your son's murmuring. It won’t stop his sneaky self from snagging another cookie or two, you know that for a fact.

Sensing your eyes on him he looks up from where he’s helping Zuzu drink her own hot cocoa, mug clasped in both of her hands with his to help guide the cup to her mouth. She’s got a whipped cream mustache and smacks her mouth against his cheek in a cheeky kiss, getting the remnants of the topping on his face.

His hazel eyes are warm, filled with all of the love in his body for you, his children, his world. He’d never imagined that his life could be so good but it is and he’ll never be more thankful.

And the look you’re giving him back, like you know exactly what he’s thinking, has him smiling even wider and mouthing an “I love you,” to you.

#azrielxreader #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #azriel/you #acotar #acomaf #acowar #azriel #azsazz #daddyaz

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radiantlyrey · 4 months

Text

One of the things I really liked about The Church on Ruby Road as an episode was the intimacy of its scope and scale. Compared to RTD’s other Christmas specials, Ruby Road is downright quaint and homey. It’s literally about one person and her family; there’s no world-ending peril, or invasion that will spell the end of London.

And it’s such a breath of fresh air. After the high stakes of the 60th specials, it was so lovely to come down to Earth, as it were, and see a small story told with such love. Here’s a young woman whose life is fairly ordinary, but who has had such a profound and positive impact on the lives of so many other people. It’s about chance and coincidence, and how one little thing can set off a chain reaction of love across the years.

Carla wonders what she’d be without Ruby, and we get to see it—she would never have fostered 33 kids, would never have changed all those lives, would never have found real happiness with herself and her family.

Ruby has the biggest family on Earth, as the Doctor says, and that family only exists because she does. She is the butterfly whose wings set off a hurricane. She is the proof that one person truly can change the world, simply by existing.

The Church on Ruby Road is such a delightful episode, precisely because its scope is so limited. It’s not the sort of story I would have expected from RTD, but I’m so glad that he told it. And I hope we see more stories like this one when the show starts up again this spring.

#doctor who #russell t davies #the church on ruby road #dw spoilers #ruby sunday #i accidentally a meta #seriously I am so delighted by this episode #and the themes of it and its subtle message #ughhhh so good

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foreverrandomwritings · 11 months

Note

M! Congratulations again!!

It’s a celly without some romantic Fanboy, is it? [SHELTER ] for one muse to lean into the other’s side or hug them to seek comfort from a crowd or individual while in public(jealousy) and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay (soft and sweet).

Opposites Attract

Summary: Pushing through your anxiety you decide to finally join your husband Mickey at a squad cookout. Will your anxiety cause you to back out? Will your husbands comfort soothe your worries?

Pairing: Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia x afab!Reader

Warnings: Anxiety, depression and tooth rooting fluff.

Word count: 1666

Masterlist M's Hundred Celly Masterlist

You and Mickey had been married for 10 years now. But together for 15 in total, high school sweethearts as they call it. No one understood how your relationship worked. Where he was extroverted you were introverted. Where he was a big ball of sunshine you were a black void of grump. Him an optimist and you a pessimist. You would simply tell them that opposites attract.

Though you weren’t truly that opposite of each other. You both craved physical touch and words of affirmation. You were both huge fans of common things. You had actually met him while doing a play together in high school. Both of you being stage hands as stage fright was something you had in common. You bonded quickly and had been inseparable ever since.

You went to college while he went to the academy. You got a masters degree in creative writing and a bachelor’s in criminology. That led you to where you were currently job wise as a mystery thriller fiction author. You were the proud author of a whole ongoing series. It was also easy for you to write and move along with him as he got stationed at different locations.

Fanboy had supported you through college and through your journey of writing the best that he could. You in turn supported him through the academy and through all the different deployments he went through. You had however found yourself staying in your own company most of the time. Having struggled with anxiety and depression your whole life meeting new people was something you tried not to do often.

Mickey respected that decision and never pressured you to go out of your comfort zone. He always made sure to spend plenty of time with you. You would often have movie nights cuddled up together on your couch under a big fluffy blanket. You’d binge series while eating your weight in junk food. Puzzles, reading books, legos, board games and relaxing in blanket forts while whispering sweet words to each other were many other things you did together.

While he never pressured you to meet any of his coworkers you knew deep down he wanted you to be a part of that life. You had met Payback, his wife and kids already. You’d do weekly dinners with the family. That made your husband ecstatic but you knew he craved more.

So when he mentioned a cookout that Maverick was planning you figured that would be your chance to meet everyone. Much to his surprise you said you’d go with him. He reassured you many times before the event that you didn’t have to go if you didn’t want to. He made sure you knew that he was perfectly fine staying inside binging Criminal Minds with you until the wee hours of the morning. But you insisted that you were finally ready to meet everyone.

Your anxiety leading up to the day wasn’t as terrible as you’d expected it to be. But the day of all the anxiety seemed to hit you like a hurricane. Wave after wave after wave coursed through you as the hours ticked by. You had changed your outfit about a million times before Mickey finally stopped you and chose an outfit for you. The outfit was simple and similar to his outfit; jeans, a graphic t (matching his) and an old worn pair of vans.

You had made two batches of brownies and two pitchers of sweet tea for the cookout. Though you were assured by your ever caring husband that it wasn't necessary at all. You got gathered into his car making sure you had everything you needed.

“Hold on cariña.” Mickey called out as you reached your door. You looked at him expectantly and were pleasantly surprised when he brought you into his arms. He wrapped them around you and squeezed you against him. He knew that pressure could sometimes help relieve some of your anxiety.

“You’re gonna do great. You are strong and brave, kind and thoughtful. You are in control of what happens. If you want to leave we will leave just give me the word.” He told you before giving your head a kiss. You squeezed him back as you took a deep breath, your nose filling with his scent, tajin from the candy he had eaten earlier and aftershave.

“I’ll make sure to let you know if I want to leave Mick.” You told him in reply. That seemed to ease some of the worry he had because he let go and gave you another peck on your forehead. Opening your door for you he ushered you into the car. Then he was rounding the hood and getting into the driver's seat. He held your hand the whole way there, letting you get lost in thoughts as you stared out the window.

Pulling up to the house you let out a shaky breath squeezing his hand. You both climbed out of the car. You grabbed the container with the brownies in it and Mickey grabbed the jugs of sweet tea. He gave you one last kiss on the head before you were both walking up the driveway to the backyard. You heard the group way before you saw them. There was splashing in the pool from the kids and chatter from the adults.

“We don’t have to go in if you don’t want to.” Mickey reassured you once again. You would never get sick of the way he cared for you. He was the steady land around your unsteady volcano. You gave him a smile you hoped was convincing but by the look he gave you, you figured it wasn’t.

“I’m ready to meet everyone, Legro.” You replied, before you were pushing the gate open and entering the backyard. You heard a shout of your name and looked to see Payback's wife heading towards you.

“Are those your brownies I see in there?” She asked you as she peered into the container in your hands.

“Don’t worry Denise, I got you a batch to take home in the car.” You whispered to her, she gave you a mischievous look in return.

“I knew I liked you for a reason.” She said simply before greeting your husband. They talked for a brief moment before she was called away by Tina, their youngest and only daughter.

“Let’s go meet everyone.” Mickey said to you as he nodded in the direction of the crowd. Your feet answered for you as they moved across the lawn. Mickey was close behind you, catching up in one quick step. You were determined to get the awkward first greeting out of the way quickly even as your hands shook.

“This is my wife.” Mickey said as he introduced you to the group. All eyes on you as you stared at the container in your hands.

“Let me take that from you.” Mav said quickly moving towards you to grab the brownies out of your hands. Then Rooster was grabbing the jugs of tea from Mickey. With nothing to look at but your bare hands you trailed your eyes up to the group.

“Hi.” You said barely above a whisper as you stepped closer to your husband. You leaned into his side as he brought an arm around your shoulder. The awkward side hug was enough to calm your nerves. They all went around the table quickly introducing themselves and greeting you.

The night was running smoothly after that. You stuck by Mickey's side talking to people occasionally. At one point Phoenix asked you what you did for work and your shell loosened as you talked about the new book you were writing for your series. Bob perked up at that and had said he had actually read your whole series almost 5 times over. But then he got confused because he hadn’t realized you were the author. You explained that you used your middle name and maiden name as a pseudonym.

Mickey had gone to get a drink and got caught up in a conversation with Hangman when you suddenly needed to go to the bathroom. You looked around but didn’t see Denise or Payback anywhere figuring they were off with one or all of the kids somewhere. Not wanting to interrupt your husband, you decided to go and find the bathroom yourself. After knocking on and opening almost every door you finally found the bathroom.

You made quick work of going before washing your hands and drying them off. As you opened the door you ran straight into someone. You let out a grunt as you stumbled back a step. Anxiety suddenly running through your body at the thought of having run into someone. But the grip on your arms soothed you back down before you could erupt. You recognized the hands instantly. Looking up, your eyes connected to a set of worried chestnut brown ones.

“I couldn’t find you outside. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” He said as he scanned over you, hands still on your arms.

“I’m alright Mick, I just had to go to the bathroom real quick. Didn’t want to disturb anyone so I just kinda wandered around for a moment.” You told him as you reached up to wrap a hand around his wrist squeezing lightly.

“Let’s get back out there then cariña. They just announced dessert and I don’t want everyone to eat your brownies before I get some.” You laughed at him as he gave you a goofy smile. Then you were walking hand in hand back to the gathering. Mickey made sure to grab a plate full of brownies glaring at Rooster when he protested the unfairness of it. He gave you a sweet kiss as he sat back beside you and handed you a glass of sweet tea. You decided then that maybe his found family wasn’t so bad and you might just want to spend more time with them in the future.

Translations:(Google so don't come for me if they are wrong.)

Cariña- Honey

Legro- Light

A/N: Thank you for this request T. I love writing for my husband. That gif of him makes my head swim.

Tags(open): @wkndwlff & @sylviebell

#m's hundred celly #mickey fanboy garcia x reader #mickey garica x reader #fanboy x reader #mickey fanboy garcia fluff #mickey fanboy garcia oneshot #mickey fanboy garcia imagine #mickey garcia oneshot #mickey garcia imagine #fanboy imagine #fanboy oneshot #fanboy fluff #fluff #mickey fanboy garcia #mickey garcia #fanboy

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kayleezra · 10 months

Text

Someone New (Part 2 to Someone Else) // (Marcus Pike x GN!Reader)

(not like the fun Hozier song unfortunately)

Word Count: 5,248

Warnings: nada unless you count angst and self-esteem issues 👍

Summary: so… I can’t thank those enough that hyped up the last part and thus encouraged me to write a second one! I truly had no intentions to continue it but then it was so well received I had to! If you’re wondering how I wrote self-esteem issues so well, it’s because I’m self-projecting 😌

AND I'M SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG, LIFE IS A B!TCH (there will be a part 3)

I can be better. I can be whatever they need me to be. People will only stay if I create my worth by being useful. I can be useful. I am useful. I’ll become whatever people need. People deserve what they need, I’ll give that to them no matter the cost. I’ll be what you need me to be.

You want to sleep away from Marcus, you want to be alone, to be allowed the space to process what you’ve just been told. You find some solace on the couch but it isn’t far enough to allow yourself to cry. Marcus will hear, you don’t want him to hear.

Marcus lies alone, hating himself, not for telling you but for even getting distracted in the first place. Now the bed that’s usually warm and full of love is cold and he can feel your warmth pulling at him from the living room where you lie. After nearly an hour of tossing and turning, he gives up.

You can’t sleep, your mind is swirling with things you could have done differently. Should’ve dressed nicer for him, he always said he loved when you dressed down because it was your ‘truest self’ but looking back on it… he was probably bringing attention to it in hopes you’d notice and change it. Been more spontaneous and fun, why stay in and cook for each other when the whole world is just outside your door? You rip apart everything, everything he’s said or done. How long ago did this all start? How far back do you have to be unsure of his words and actions?

The hurricane of thoughts, slamming against the inside of your cranium, comes to an unsettling halt when Marcus enters the doorway. He looks like a mutt hoping to be adopted: scared, guilty and hopeful. And yet… when you see him… your chest tightens and your mind is screaming at you and at him to the point where your thoughts are incomprehensible.

“I know I don’t deserve… I-. will you please come to bed? I- I can’t sleep when uh- when the bed is just so empty and cold,” he looks at the ground and rubs his neck uncomfortably, “we don't have to cuddle or anything I just-” he scoffs at himself. He can't believe he got up and would ask you this. “You know what, forget I said anything,” he says before turning around.

You wanted to find solace alone but… you also don’t want to push him further away than he already is. So you get up from the couch and walk to the bedroom, once filled with dreams that you now know will never come true and thus the guilt that comes with it. Marcus is surprised by your appearance and clearly happy but he holds himself back he knows things aren’t the same and he doesn’t have the right to want you close. So he lets you lay in bed next to him with a distance that says ‘divorce parents’. You’re scared this is worse than the physical distance that distanced the two of you into separate rooms. So you move towards him… with a hesitation that says ‘happily married with 2 kids’. You’re scared of losing him and at this point will do anything to keep him so you sleep next to him as though nothing happened. You even bring your arms around him and hold him as if you love him the same, as if he still loves you the same.

You just have to pretend to be happy and then one day… you’ll believe it. If you just keep pretending that things are fine for you… then they will be. While also improving yourself to ensure Marcus stays interested, of course… but right now you play the part of pretending so that everything’s fine.

Just pretend that Marcus's touch doesn’t feel like betrayal. Just imagine that it’s yesterday and everything you thought you knew is still true. You’re happy and Marcus is happy and the two of you are happy together.

Emotional exhaustion is the only reason that you end up asleep. You didn’t feel tired, but then again a lot has happened in the last few hours that you didn’t see coming. You know you’re mentally and emotionally exhausted because you’re in bed with him. Because you didn’t stand for the one ounce of self-respect you have. You’ve imagined being cheated on and betrayed, how you’d calmly walk out and let their regret and sorrow eat them alive because you deserve better. But here you are, in the bed and arms of a man who just told you he’s interested in someone else.

Marcus doesn’t sleep. You didn’t calmly walk out but the regret and sorrow eats him alive all the same. He deserves it, he knows he does and he hates it, he wishes he wasn’t so stupid as to get distracted and hurt you because now he’s left with nothing but the mess he created. He’s confused, how could he love you and yet so easily get pulled into Teresa’s trap? He never questioned his love for you, you took up all the space in his mind so how was Teresa able to squeeze in? When he thinks back to when he and Teresa first met there’s nothing, just another co-worker. When did it become more? He remembers thinking about you when she spoke about being single, about how happy you made him. Then… he remembers seeing and talking with Teresa and only seeing and thinking about her. When did that happen? How did that happen? How could he let this happen? And yet here you lay next to him. He knows you’re only in his arms because you’re scared he'll leave because that’s basically what he said to you. He’s resurrected the evil voices that taunt your every being, the voices he helped you fight into submission, a battle that took you years. He’s broken every moral code, value and promise he’s ever made to himself and to you. By 3:00 am his grief eats him alive to the point where he can’t fight his exhaustion.

An uneasy anxiety wakes you, the time reads 4:42 am. You feel… different… cold and robotic. Numb. You’ve allowed yourself to take blame and create a solution that you can provide, it’s made you indifferent and detached. You're no longer a loving partner but an actor playing one, acting out the role perfectly but you can only act it perfectly if you don’t let your own emotions get in the way. You think about picture-perfect relationships, often subliminally misogynistic, and use them as your guide. You’ll get up and dressed and make breakfast, a big one, a big ‘I’m sorry’ movie breakfast! Marcus will be happy. You carefully remove Marcus’s arm from you. His touch isn’t warm, it burns your skin and feels like a lie. You breathe better without his arm on you, without him touching you but you don’t allow yourself to enjoy that freedom because you have a job to do. You shower, shave, exfoliate, wear perfume, do your hair and put on a nice not-so-casual outfit before creating an expansive spread for breakfast. You’ve gone about the morning like a stereotypical 1950s housewife, all that’s missing is a husband that won’t appreciate your work.

It is just as you’re setting everything in place that Marcus appears. You can tell he’s confused like he’s trying to figure out if this is real or a dream. A dream… see you can be his dream if you just try.

“What’s all this?” he asks, confused. And now you feel silly…

“I- um-…” you’re suddenly nervous and can’t find the right words, the words that don’t scream ‘I’m terrified you’ll leave me so I’ll do and be whatever you want me to’. While fighting to find the words Marcus slowly makes his way to you. You take a deep breath,

“I just… I wanted to remind us how… good, happy we are together,” you muster out.

“Oh baby you don’t have to do that, I’m always happy with you, you never have to remind me,” Marcus says solemnly. ‘Then why are you interested in someone else’ your brain says. You nod as though you believe him.

The two of you sit and enjoy your hard work but it’s filled with a heavy and awkward silence.

“What time did you get up? I mean, you did all this,” Marcus says while gesturing to the food, “and you’re dressed up.”

“It’s nothing, I just couldn’t fall back asleep this morning so…” you shrug, “I got a head start on the day. Plus I figured it’d be nice for you to not have to wake up to what looks like a beached sea creature,” you joke. You smile and laugh at yourself, trying to ensure he doesn’t see how truthful you’re being, how negatively you’re seeing yourself. Marcus puts his cutlery down and looks at you seriously, leaning into the table and giving you his hands to take. You place your hands in his, leaning over the table yourself.

“You never, never, are anything other than beautiful to me, ever.”‘Then why did she catch your eye?’ “I love seeing you relaxed and happy more than anything, I love it because it's like you’re bearing your soul to me.”‘Then why weren’t my soul and I enough?’

His words burn, they hurt, you’d actually prefer poisoned words or a physical blow because what he’s doing now is so much worse. It’s a reminder of what was, what could’ve been, of what he’s capable of faking.

You smile and scoff, unable to take in his words completely without crying. He can’t see you cry. You take your hands from his.

“You’re the only one who thinks that Marcus and it might be because you need to see an optometrist. Plus,” you continue to ensure he can’t break down your defences, “I had time and wanted to remind myself how hot I can be.” Another joke, anything but face reality, change the topic, nod and smile, but don’t look in the mirror too long, don’t look at Marcus too long, don’t interpret his words, let everything roll off your back and avoid the actuality.

Marcus knows what you’re doing, he knows you too well not to and it breaks him to see you put up all your defenses. To have you listen to all the evil little voices in your head, to have you act and the worst part? He knows it’s all because of him. He knows these defences, he encountered them early on in your relationship, and he helped take them down. Now he’s the reason they’re up. You’re creating a version of yourself you believe he’ll like, a version he’ll love, but he truly does love the real you. He loves waking up to your relaxed body, no matter how awkward the position seems or the state of your pyjamas. He loves waking up to see the hairstyle your pillows made you, to see whatever face your face has found itself in even when it leaves you drooling, especially when it leaves you drooling. He loves your morning breath and your slightly cranky and disoriented mood when you first wake. He loves seeing your shoulders be relaxed and your jaw unclenched, even if it gives you less-than-perfect posture and a double chin. He loves all these things that you hate because he knows it means you’re at ease with him. That you trust him. That you don’t have to put a show on for him, a brave face that you wear too often. He’s one of the few that get to see you, not a facade. Got, Your brain quickly corrects, got to see.

“I think we need to talk about what I said last night,” Marcus says.

‘You mean how you found somebody else?’, “I don’t know that-...”

“I know it’s going to… suck to put it lightly but I told you for a reason. Because I do love you, and I’d never hide anything from you, including some silly crush.”

“Silly crush? You told me she took up your mind, that you were mesmerized by her laugh. It wasn’t just finding someone attractive or enjoying their company!” you begin to raise your voice.

“I know, I know. I- I just don’t know what to do. I do love you, I've envisioned our lives together, growing old and being the cutest couple in the care home…”

“Then how could you fall so easily for Teresa? How could you love me if you are able to forget all about me at the sight of another woman?!”

“I don’t know, I- My mind is a mess. I can’t give you an answer. I’m sorry. But… I don’t want you to do this, to be this.” Marcus says while motioning towards you and the absurd breakfast you put together.

“Marcus… I don’t know that I can do that. I look at you and… all I see are my flaws, reasons I’m not good enough. And I know you’ll argue that but it doesn’t matter what you say because I no longer trust a word you say.” Tears well up in your eyes, this isn’t how your morning was supposed to go, you were supposed to fake happiness until everything was fine.

Your words break Marcus’s heart. Flaws? You didn’t have any in his eyes. He’s desperate.

“But tell me you’re willing to try, please?”

I can’t lose him, he’s my everything. He just needs time, he’ll realize he’s being silly and come back to me. He has to. Things will be fine. They have to be.

You take a deep breath and nod, “I’m willing to try,” you say just above a whisper. The words hurt because it means stabbing yourself in the heart every moment that you look at him. Pretending that you’re enough when you’re not. This isn’t the same as pretending things are fine because Marcus has already admitted it isn’t, that he knows about your defences and doesn’t want you to use them. To openly let yourself get hurt.

— a week later —

The day has taken everything out of you, you’re exhausted but you’ve got housework to do. Truth is, this last week you’ve felt like utter garbage and have tried to hide it by putting more effort into your appearance. If you look good on the outside, you'll feel good on the inside right? Well, it hasn’t really worked but it’s given you something to think about besides the crushing cloud of melancholy that fogs your head. However, between the cloud and the energy you’ve exerted trying to ignore it, you’ve come home exhausted. Although it doesn’t feel much like home anymore, you’re constantly on edge now, waiting for Marcus to say or do something. All while finding subtle ways to improve yourself. You’ve slacked a lot on the house duties. Marcus hasn’t said anything and he’s picked up your slack. He reassures you that it’s okay given the circumstances, that he wants you to ‘focus on yourself’.

Marcus has found a way to come home early every day this week, except today. Your brain tells you that he doesn’t have to stay late to work but is instead spending time with Teresa. But you can’t find it in yourself to care. You’re too tired if he wants to leave, and you knoe he will but at this point there's nothing you can do to change that.

While you mentioned taking a break, allowing him to explore, he really hasn’t. He’s felt so guilt-ridden about what he’s done to you, he just wants to make it all better. That in no way redeems him, he knows that. He’s invested more in you, trying to communicate how awful he feels, how he knows he fucked up. Then a case calls extra attention from the team and in walks Teresa… He sees her and feels guilt. He wants to run away from her and into your arms but then she smiles at him… and he forgets you. He forgets how you make him giggle when you wake up annoyed at your alarm every morning. He forgets how you always pour his coffee before your own. He forgets that you’ll plan spontaneous dates after a rough week to help each other forget about it even for a little. He forgets the adorable face you make when concentrating or trying to remember something. He forgets the way you jump and scream when he accidentally startles you that always ends in the two of you laughing in each other's arms. He forgets that he has a piece of the sun waiting at home for him.

You change out of your day's clothes and into some nice loungewear. Nice enough to be comfy but not enough to fall asleep immediately in. You put some music on and begin cleaning, maybe it’s the slightly messy state of your house that is attributing to your dark cloud. If you clean the house, you’ll clean your mind. You know that's not true, that this time it isn’t something you can clean or tend to, to solve. But you do it anyway, hoping it’ll provide some relief. You start in the kitchen, getting lost in the loud music, before you make your way to the bathroom and laundry, losing track of time. Then all that’s left is vacuuming.

It’s late, you haven’t eaten or bothered to prepare anything, it didn’t feel necessary when you heard Marcus wouldn't be home for dinner. You’re tired but the music is keeping you moving and there’s a small feeling of accomplishment from getting so much work done in spite of your down mood.

The moment work is finished, Marcus is filled with guilt again. He’s here with Teresa… you’re at home… It’s like she has a spell over him. He thinks of you and his heart sinks. He thinks about how sad he feels with you and happy he feels with Teresa… he’s made his choice. He goes home feeling sick to his stomach, but he can’t continue like this, in limbo. He thought he’d feel lighter with his mind made up but he feels heavier until he gets home and opens the door. You’re singing, and moving to the music while vacuuming. He smiles, he loves coming home to you, he wants to come home to this forever… Your singing is offkey and he loves it, it’s not a show you’re putting on.

Marcus goes and pauses the music and in a split second, you turn and scream before realizing it’s him. You put a hand to your chest, catching your breath. Marcus laughs,

“I didn't mean to scare you but this was the least startling way I could think of letting you know I was home.”

“How was work?”, you ask with a small smile, mustering all the energy left in your body to resemble slightly happy and not broken down. Work… Marcus thinks, that’s right, work, his decision.

“I’ve made up my mind,” You furrow your brows, too tired to connect the dots. “I know who I love, who I want to be with more,” ‘Oh… right, I let him pick, let him decide.’

“And?” Marcus takes a deep breath,

“I want to be with Teresa.”

Time stops and you’re numb, “oh,” is all that comes out. Your eyes aren’t focused and nothing feels real. “Umm… what does- where…” you begin to stutter out.

“I’ve booked a hotel and will find a new place.”

“You’ve already booked a hotel?” you ask emotionless.

Marcus nods, “Back at the office.”

“You’ve already planned…” He’s planned out how to leave. Staying wasn’t ever an option.

“I’m sorry…” Marcus starts but you can’t bear to hear it.

“No no, you- you told me what you felt and I gave you time to decide. You’ve decided. This is just… the cards we were dealt…” you say numbly. Marcus hates to hurt you because he really does love and care for you, he’s just not sure you’re his endgame.

“I-I‘ll go pack a bag,” he says before leaving the foyer.

He decided. In your clouded head and act you forgot that things could end. That no matter what you did… it wouldn’t have been enough. Somehow this hurts less than when he first told you about Teresa, maybe part of you already knew and grieved. Maybe it was the mix of self-hatred and pessimism that took over your life last week that made the blow more bearable. What hurt was the future. What was your future? Before it was always you and Marcus… now everything was… gone. You’d have to build yourself from scratch. The unknown for the indefinite future was horrifying. Your heart begins racing, everything you knew, the stability in your life, is being stripped from you overnight. Your breaths become shallow as you think about having to move, will you be able to find a new place? Will it be nice? Close to work? What if it’s a dump, infested with rodents and insects? Your hearing is long gone, all you hear is the whirlwind in your mind. Your shallow breaths make you lightheaded and burn your lungs. You lower yourself to the ground with the help of the couch.

Everything’s a blur and then Marcus’s face is there, in front of you. He looks worried, why’s he worried? What’s happened? Is he okay? Finally, he touches you and you hear an echo of your name come from his lips. Me, I am what’s wrong.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” you breathe out, taking some grounding breaths, focusing on how hard the ground feels beneath you. When your senses come back to you, you briefly forget what Marcus has just told you. You see him and think you’re glad he was here to help, but then it dawns on you, he’s the reason it started.

You quickly get up like his presence hurts, because it does.

“I’m fine. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-…”

“It’s fine you’re okay,” Marcus says while moving to give you a reassuring touch. You maneuver away from him,

“I’ll let you get back to packing,” you finish without looking at him and walking out the front door. You need air and space.

You don’t go far, your mind is too busy to let your legs carry you far so you find yourself on a nearby bench, no more than 5 minutes from where Marcus is. You don’t know what to do, nothing feels real. In 30 minutes the night's cool air has appeared and made you shiver so you return to the place that hurts most with a new numbness from the cold.

Inside is Marcus with a few bags packed.

“I was worried, I texted you but,” he motions to your phone left on the counter.

“Sorry,” you say quietly, “lost track of time. Have you got what you need?”

“Uh… yeah…”

You nod, “when did you want to get the rest of your things?” This was really happening.

“Um, I’m not too sure yet but within the week for sure, if that’s okay?”

“Of course, not like I’ll be anywhere else,” you laugh coldly.

“I’m really sorry-…”

“Don’t. Don’t be, I- I want you to be happy so… don’t worry.”

Marcus begins to make his way towards the door with his bags, “I’ll text you about my things.”

“Of course,” you say with a sad smile and with that… he leaves.

The night is a bit of a blur, at first, you were in a mixed state of denial and numbness but at one point you were too tired to hold yourself together and you broke. You ended up laying down on the floor, the bed and the couch having too many memories of him. You don’t sleep and not just because the ground is uncomfortable.

At 6 am panic sets in. You can’t live here, you have to move. You open your phone and begin rapidly planning your future, taking screenshots and sending emails. Just like you have your whole life, you’re left to go it alone, to depend on no one but yourself, working yourself into the ground and then working some more. As heartbreaking and frustrating as it is, you also know one more thing about yourself: no matter what, you always get to the finish line, and you can depend on yourself.

—-4days later—-

You’ve spent all your free time packing and searching for your future. On your days off you’ve gone to different homes and renting spaces and neighbourhoods to see what could be a good fit. You find an apartment near your workplace that’s decent. It’s small but it’s just you so… it’ll work. It’s clean and safe and you can afford it which is all you can really ask for. You’ve been so busy you haven’t had time to grieve, or in other words, you haven’t allowed yourself to grieve by burying yourself in other things.

You’re signing the lease when your phone buzzes in your pocket.

It’s a text from Marcus that reads: ‘I can pick my stuff up tonight or tomorrow if tonight is too late of notice.’

You text him it’s fine and set to meet at 5 pm.

You get back to your place and begin packing, not only your stuff but Marcus’s as well. You try not to get sentimental about packing the things you once shared but tears escape nonetheless. You try to lessen the pain by forcing yourself to get as much packing done as possible, the sooner you can get out of this place, the better.

This place hurts to live in now, it feels like you’re living with a ghost. You yearn for Marcus to return but the old Marcus, the ghost of him. You’re constantly bombarded with flashbacks of happy moments between the two of you. That wasn’t the worst of it though. The worst was seeing what could have been. Walking into the kitchen and seeing the two of you attempting a new recipe together. Going to do laundry and seeing a new detergent that Marcus bought because it smelt nice. Going to bed and seeing an older you and Marcus reading comfortably in that same bed. It was like memories you hadn't yet created… and now never would. That hurt the most. These illusions make you want to run back into Marcus’s arms and make them a reality, but this reminds you of the second worst reminder: you never wanted to leave Marcus’s arms… Marcus wanted to leave yours.

You’re folding extra linens when there's a knock at your door. You know it’s Marcus so you just tell him to let himself in.

How weird that the two of you used to have keys to this place and enter with the relief of having finished the day and being able to see each other. And now, one of you has to knock, one of you is now a stranger and the other can’t bear living in these four walls.

Marcus walks in as you finish folding the item in hand, placing it in a box. He stops in his tracks just as quickly as he entered. He takes in the state of what was once his home. A lot of decorations and non-essential furnishings have been stripped off and gathered near the front door, along with boxes, more than was necessary for his stuff.

“What’s uh- what’s going on?” he asks confused.

“Packing,” you say quick, almost crudely.

“You’re moving?”

“Yeah,” you take a breath and finally stop and look to Marcus, “I just can’t live here being reminded-...” you can’t finish. Marcus looks to the ground nodding,

“Right, right.”

You walk towards a pile of what looks like miscellaneous items, “I just don’t know how to divvy this stuff,” you explain motioning to the pile.

Marcus takes a closer look at the pile and understands the pile, it’s items you got together. Most were pretty material except one, on the side lay a folded blanket, the fleece tie blanket the two of you made together. Each of you picked a fleece pattern and then the two of you sat on the living room floor and laid them out atop each other, made the appropriate cuts and lastly, tied them together. The blanket would find its home as a throw blanket on the couch that the two of you often used when cuddling together during movie night, date night, or just because. That breaks Marcus’s heart, and it’s then that he takes in the four walls that he’ll never see again, the place that made him so happy, that this part of his life is ending. But he did this, he doesn’t have the right to be heartbroken, this was his decision, his choice.

“Um I don’t think I need any of it,” he says quietly.

“Okay, well if you don’t want it I’m donating it, I’ve already taken what I need,”

“The blanket,” Marcus nearly yells, he says it so quickly like he was afraid it was gonna disappear before his eyes.

You notice there’s something in the tone of his voice but are too tired and broken to really care or process it.

“Okay,” you say while handing it to him.

Giving him the blanket fills you with heartbreak and relief. This was one of the items that hurt most to have to pack away and the pain it caused told you you couldn’t keep it. It not only held the memories of making it but the browsing of the fabric store together, Marcus choosing the most god-awful patterns he could find claiming it was his choice, the dozens of nights spent asleep on the couch after unintentionally falling asleep, and thousands of minutes spent under it.

Marcus feels every one of those minutes through the threads. Minutes he didn’t think would end, certainly not so suddenly. As he runs his hands over the material the memories run through his mind, memories he assumed he’d continue making with you throughout your mortal lives.

“Is that all?” Your voice breaks him from his thoughts

‘You’ his brain thinks, “Uh no, that should do it.”

You nod. You have so many questions for him but the pain in your chest and hurt sob stuck in your throat won’t let you ask. Was it something I did? Why wasn’t I enough? I tried so hard. You knew asking wouldn’t help ease the pain no matter the answer he gave you, even if he apologized and ran into your arms the damage was already done.

You quietly help Marcus take his stuff to his car. Emotionally you’re numb but your brain is screaming at you that this is the end.

“Thanks,” Marcus breathes when you place the last of his things down.

“No problem,” you turn to walk away, returning to the four walls that allow you to cry in peace but turn back to him.

“Marcus?”

“Yeah?” he looks at you with hopeful eyes.

“I hope the two of you are happy,” you walk away before he can say anything or see the tears that fall. Marcus is left standing on the sidewalk with his things in his arms realizing he’s just made the biggest mistake of his life, and there's nothing he can do to fix it.

Taglist: @spideysimpossiblegirl @littlemisspascal @writer-darling @avengetheunnatural @currentobsessionrabbithole @harriedandharassed @alberta-sunrise @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @louderfortheback @trey-18 (also tagged those that were so kind about the first part!)

#marcus pike x you #marcus pike fluff #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike

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heliads · 2 years

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Divergent (last one for a while I'm sorry). Eric x ofc. They're leaders. Due to how busy they're during initiate season, they don't do anything together and it makes them fight a lot. During one of those fights hurtful stuff is said (something like "just fucking leave") by him and she leaves for field training. In the middle of it, a hurricane hits and they can't find one initiate. She goes to search for them and eric is ripping his hair out trying to find her after she doesn't return in time.

love a good hurricane. i would, in fact, write an entire fic analyzing what the weather trends would be like in the divergent series but i don't think anyone has asked for that (yet) so here you go instead :))

masterlist

Eric Coulter can sense the fight coming. Usually, he relishes any chance of conflict, like all he needs is to get someone else’s blood to coat his knuckles and he’ll be set for life, but today is different. Maybe it’s because no matter what happens, there will be no winners in today’s fight, no one being led out of the ring with their hands held triumphantly over their heads. Sure, no bones will be broken, but neither he nor Y/N L/N will end today completely intact.

He’s been waiting alone in what’s supposed to be their shared apartment for hours now, long since the time when Y/N should have been home. Eric isn’t going to claim that there’s a curfew here, not for either of them. Dauntless leaders make the rules for everyone except themselves, Eric knows that better than anyone.

That’s why he shouldn’t be irritated that Y/N isn’t home yet, but he is. He always is. Typically, Eric is able to convince himself to let it go, that of all the hills to die on her punctuality shouldn’t be the worst of all. It’s not like they ever do anything but sit around, anyway, but that’s precisely why Eric is angry in the first place.

They’ve both been busy, it’s not like this is solely Y/N’s fault, but Eric has always found it a little easier to blame anyone but himself. Surely Eric couldn’t be the reason Four beat him out for the slot of top initiate during their own training round, surely the other boy was cheating or doing something other than simply being better. Surely the reason he hasn’t seen his girlfriend other than glimpses across crowded hallways will be a problem on her end and not something that can be traced back to him.

That’s what Dauntless has taught him, at least. Maybe back in Erudite there’s a boy who doesn’t like to pretend that he was Dauntless-born, some kid who knows when to accept responsibility even when he’s wrong. Maybe there was once an iteration of Eric Coulter that wasn’t the mess he’s grown into today.

It’s foolish thinking, and Eric knows it. He has always been himself, and even if that character has strengthened and hardened into a knife’s edge over the recent years, nothing real has changed. Eric has always been a monster, and usually he likes it, but today it just makes him feel even more alone than usual. If he’s truly the cruel, sadistic training leader that he’d like to be, why does he feel the need to fill his hours with someone else’s company?

The door clicks open at last, a welcome break from Eric’s intrusive thoughts. It’s not like this evening is going to get any easier now that Y/N is back, but at least he’ll be able to place a little more of his rage out on the woman currently tiptoeing through the door instead of funneling it back into himself. Eric has always been more of a fighter than a thinker, even if that’s let people down in the past. All he has is his racing fury and tendency for blood. It is all that he has ever needed.

Some quiet part of his head whispers that that isn’t entirely true. When he had fallen for Y/N, and Eric well and truly fell, he doesn’t know that he had been the same since. It was as if he had taken a temporary lapse from the monster. Other Dauntless had even commented on it, how Eric seemed more focused, more clean in the days since he kissed Y/N for the first time.

That had been good for him, being loved. It had sharpened his blunt cruelty into the edge of a razor. Eric had been no less bloodthirsty, but he was better at it. He wasted less of his time on displays that he didn’t need. Loving Y/N had made him more aware of himself, and in turn, more aware of all that he could be if Eric stopped getting caught up in stepping on people’s dreams just because he felt like it.

Now, all Eric feels aware of is the slump in Y/N’s shoulders, the way she took off her shoes an instant before she slipped inside the door so she can try not to make a sound. Eric’s eyes have long since adjusted, and all of her secrecy is pointless. It just proves that today is yet another day of them not working.

He sighs, and flicks on the light. Y/N flings up a hand to shade her eyes from the sudden brilliance, and Eric watches her face fall as she realizes that he’s been there all along.

“You didn’t have to wait up,” she says softly.

To Y/N’s credit, she doesn’t seem drunk in the slightest. Eric doesn’t think she’s done a thing other than work all this time, which marks a difference between her and the girlfriends of some of Eric’s friends. Y/N could have been wasting her time and actually given him a reason to argue, but she’s just as good as always. Maybe that’s what has truly been bothering Eric all this time, that he feels like some shady wreck when she’s a perfect saint, day in and day out.

Even in the face of her alibi, Eric still folds his arms tightly across his chest. He can’t help but flash back to this morning, when he’d donned the exact same stance so he could chew out his initiates about needing to actually hit the target when they used their guns. Everything’s a damned lesson now, isn’t it?

“I did,” Eric refutes, “because I had no idea when you were getting back. That makes the third time this has happened this week, by the way. It’s only Thursday.”

Y/N drags a tired hand over her face. “I’ve been working, I told you. Dauntless can barely take care of itself, let alone try and work with the Erudite plan.”

The weighty stress on the mention of the blue-suited faction tells Eric all he needs to know about why Y/N is taut with nerves. Jeanine Matthews had approached Max, Eric, and some of the other Dauntless leaders with the idea of making a better city, one where the useless Abnegation weren’t wasting food and money on people who would never pay them back. Looks like Y/N’s been working on the same thing.

This is where Eric steps back and cuts her some slack, but it isn't. Instead, he squares his shoulders and readies himself for another blow. “That may be true, but work isn’t the only thing in your life. I barely feel like I have a girlfriend anymore. I see you for minutes at a time, and then you’re gone for another day. I mean, when was the last time you even looked at me for longer than a second?”

Y/N’s gaze turns stony. “Don’t act like this is my fault. As you might recall, you’ve been getting in minutes before me. I try to talk to you during the day, but your trainees are so important that you can’t spare me a single word. Hell, you won’t even glance at me when you’re with them. You’re not as blameless as you’d like to seem, trust me.”

Eric groans, even though he knows she’s right. “Oh, and I’m a monster because of that, right? Maybe if you stopped trying to visit me during the hours when I’m working, you’d be able to finish up the day faster and we wouldn’t have this problem.”

Y/N scoffs. “Yeah, because it’s totally that easy. If I cut out the thirty seconds in which I try to see you, I’ll be able to avoid working three hours overtime.”

Eric’s expression hardens. “If you’re going to be that smart with me, you might as well go back to your plans.”

“What are you saying?” Y/N asks, her voice cold yet cautious. All of her efforts to mitigate this fight just make Eric even more angry. Just once, he wants to have his time to shout and storm, and she’s trying to make peace. Once again, it’s Y/N doing everything right and Eric on the outside, the killer everybody wants to pretend they’re not going to become.

“You heard me,” Eric says, forcing himself to keep his voice even, “You have your priorities and they’re not us right now. Fine. If that’s how it’s going to be, how about you leave me be? It would certainly do me good to stop having to worry about how you’re always skipping out. Just get your stuff and go. It’s not like it would be any different from normal, anyway. You’re always gone. Just go.”

Y/N draws back as if he’s slapped her. “If that’s what you want,” she whispers, “then fine. Goodnight, Eric.”

The door closes behind her, and Eric starts swearing the second he hears her footsteps disappear down the hall, no longer bearing the effort of trying to be quiet. This isn’t what he wanted, but it’ll be best for them, won’t it? They need a break. This is their breather in between rounds, and maybe when Eric ducks his head back into the ring, he’ll actually be able to put an end to all of the fighting.

If it’s an end Eric wants, though, he’s not sure that he’s going to get close to Y/N long enough to have it. They already saw scant glimpses of each other during the day, and now that Y/N’s stopped living in his apartment, it’s like she’s ceased to exist. After two days, Eric caves and tries to find her, but she never answers the door and the key to her rooms has suddenly disappeared from his apartment, along with a lot of her belongings.

He fucked up, he can admit that freely. Eric is used to swinging first, asking questions never, and it’s finally backfired on him. He can only hope that Y/N will let her guard down for a second, because even that moment will give him enough time to apologize and hope that they can go back to normal.

However, Eric’s pride gets the best of him, just like it always has. The days pass, and not a word is spoken between the two of them. Eric goes about his days bitter and scorned, lashing out at the initiates for the smallest of mistakes. At some point, even Four has to tell him to take a walk after he shouted at some kid until his voice went hoarse for accidentally dropping a knife during target practice.

When the storm comes, Eric sees it as a blessing. It forces all of them inside, the skies rippling with gray and purple and green. Perhaps the rain can wash away all of his anger, his fear, and leave behind only the best of what Y/N saw in him. He’ll find her after this settles, he decides, he’ll stay outside of her door all night if that’s what it takes.

The problem is that he just can’t find her. Eric stops by her workplace, but she’s not there, and her apartment is well and truly empty. The storm is picking up by now, and klaxons are starting to wail, alerting everybody to stay off of the trains and get inside. Eric hears talk that it might even be a hurricane, which is not the best news at a time like this.

The weather has been awful for as long as Eric has been alive, and according to some of the Erudite scholars, it’s about ten times worse than it was for their ancient predecessors. Ever since the catastrophic events that shrunk the nation’s population to their city alone, weather systems have been pretty much out of control. Heat rises quickly, storm cells gain power far faster than they ever have, and foul weather systems can linger over Chicago for weeks instead of mere hours. A hurricane could spell the end of days if it was so inclined.

So, as the minutes pass and Eric still can’t find Y/N, he feels his panic level skyrocket. Eric receives a call from Four to head to a balcony on the training level, and he heads there immediately, certain that something’s happened. He’s not wrong, either. Four stares over the edge of the balcony, knuckles white on the iron railing.

“What’s going on?” Eric asks, trying not to let his paranoia show.

Four shakes his head tersely. “Remember how we were doing field training for some of the higher ranked initiates? Everyone was supposed to go inside when the hurricane warnings started sounding, but I did a head count when you left and I couldn’t find one of the kids.”

Eric stares out over the rolling landscape of the city, but he can’t see anything through the whipping boughs of trees. The wind is picking up speed by the second, and anything that isn’t nailed down is rolling through the streets, driven by gusts of invisible force. Rain starts to pelt the ground, the sound like bullets against metal.

“You’re telling me some trainee is out there in this weather?” He asks.

Four grimaces. “Not just one trainee. Y/N heard that there was a kid out there and she volunteered to go bring him back. I haven’t seen her in half an hour.”

Just like that, Eric is gone. His stomach drops down to ground level, four floors below. “That can’t be true,” he says feebly, but he knows it’s a lie even before the syllables cross his tongue. Of course Y/N would have gone, she has always been the hero, always braver than the rest of them. To her, a hurricane is just another chance for her to prove herself.

Four’s lips flatten. “It is, though. I’m sure she’ll be fine, but–”

He cuts himself off, staring up at the sky, which is now an ugly shade of yellowish green, streaked through with clouds as dark as night. The rain rises to a crescendo, so loud Eric can’t hear Four when the guy starts to shout and has to rely on reading his lips to learn that Four is going inside.

Eric should head in, too, but he can’t, not when Y/N is still out there. He can’t do a thing to save her now, but he can at least stand guard, a silent tribute to the woman he loves. Of course Y/N will come back, she has to. Eric doesn’t think he could survive if she didn’t, not when he left her on such bad terms.

As the minutes spin by, though, the odds get worse and worse. Eric can see lightning fork across the rusting metal sky, and thunder rolls in a constant, deafening boom of sound. He’s never seen a storm this bad, and it’s taking everything in him to just stay here and hold on to the balcony of this protected alcove. Eric can’t imagine how Y/N is staying alive and finding the trainee out there.

Some terrified part of him dares broach the thought that perhaps she isn’t holding on after all. A storm like this could easily kill. Already, the streets are starting to flood, thick beige water swirling across the asphalt. There’s no way Y/N could make it back in these conditions, no matter how much Eric wishes she would.

Then he sees it. A fleeting flash of movement, just visible out of the corner of his eye. Eric leans forward over the edge of the balcony, desperate to see what it was, although he’s forced back against the wall when a bolt of lightning flashes so close to his head that he swears he can feel the heat.

The movement comes again, though, and this time Eric is certain of it: it’s Y/N, it must be. He calls out to her, directions and encouragement and pleading, even though there’s no chance that she could hear him over the din of the hurricane. She’s leading the lost initiate through the streets, the two of them sticking close to the walls of the buildings they pass and moving in quick dashes from cover to cover.

Heart in his throat, Eric watches them approach. He ducks inside to tell Four to ready the door nearest them, then runs back out to the balcony, as if by watching he’ll act as guardian angel and protect them from certain death. When they’re below him, Eric heads back inside for real, racing down the stairs so he can meet them as they arrive.

The wind is so strong that it’s half pulling Y/N and the initiate back outside, but they manage to get inside long enough for other Dauntless to shove the doors closed behind them, barring the locks as soon as they can. Eric races for Y/N, pulling her into his arms with the silent relief of a man who’s just faced down death itself and walked away with his pulse still racing.

“You’re alright,” he whispers, as much to convince himself as her.

Y/N wraps her arms around him. “I’m alright,” she repeats, “we’re alright.”

Eric presses his lips to her head. “Don’t ever do that again. I was terrified that I was going to lose you. I don’t ever want to be without you again, you hear me? Never again.”

Y/N chuckles softly, breaking away from his embrace just enough that she can look him in the eyes. “I’m sorry, Eric. About the fight.”

He shakes his head. “No, it was my mistake. I was looking for a reason to fight. It was my fault just as much, I didn’t want to admit it then. I just want you. That’s all I need.”

Y/N smiles and hugs him again. “You have me, Eric. You always have.”

Outside, the hurricane rages on, but for once, Eric feels safe and sound. He has his entire world right here in his arms, and he couldn’t worry about a single other thing.

divergent tag list: @dindjarinneedsahug, @poisonmenegan, @ozzynka, @rogueanschel, @with-inked-solace, @gods-fools-heroes

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