#and i wanted to be at the desk; but he's listening to tv and doing the dishes...so i give up ghfghfjgchf
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𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 | 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐥𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐧
remus’ touch after a long night prompts a tired confession (and a slew of clumsy kisses).
requested here. modern au. fem!reader, 3.6k.
˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚
“I'm going to bed,” Sirius mumbles, scratching at his eyes as he gets up. “Don't let her sleep in her makeup. She'll get an eye infection.”
Your eyes are getting sore, but it's hardly Remus' responsibility to make sure you wash your face tonight, nor Sirius’ to remind you. “I'm a big girl.”
Sirius sends you a smile, ignoring your chiding. “Goodnight, my loves,” he says, waving you both away as he heads out of the living room and up the stairs.
“Notice how he didn't do his dishes?” Remus asks, shifting beside you.
He's sitting as he tends to, slouched in a way that can't be good for his back in the long run but is clearly comfortable short term. His chin is on his chest, his legs kicked out under the coffee table, which is decorated by the casualties of the night. Sirius’ dinner plate, Remus’ mug, James’ rarely used handheld console. He'd been playing a cutesy farming sim before he said goodnight an hour ago. Sirius stayed to mess with James’ crops and eat a late supper. You're surprised it took him as long as it did to admit defeat.
“What time is it?” you ask.
You're laying on the sofa with your socked feet tucked behind Remus’ back, of which he's yet to complain. His elbow brushes your shin as he brings up his arm. “Nearly one in the morning, now,” he reads from his watch. “Let's go to bed too, yeah?”
“I don't want to.” You turn your face into the pillow behind your neck.
“Me neither,” Remus says, dropping his hand on your knee.
You watch another twenty minutes of TV together failing to summon the energy to stand, but the want for a glass of water grows too big. Your head throbs as you get up, offering your hands to the pretzel that is your favourite housemate.
Remus turns off the TV and lights. You lock the front door. He carries the dirty dishes to the kitchen and you fill up two glasses of water to take with you. It's all so… regular. A routine you share nearly every night, only to climb into your two separate beds.
He ushers you out of the kitchen and down the hallway with his hand behind your shoulders, his touch a phantom as you ascend the stairs.
You're silent beside the creak of the old wood, too tired to speak. Remus is similarly quiet, though he does whisper, “Watch,” when you nearly kick the box of Halloween decorations waiting to be taken up into the attic.
You leave your water on the towel box in the alcove and dance around one another in the bathroom. Sirius’ toothbrush lays on the sink still wet, but otherwise there's no signs of him.
You're feeling very, very tired. You hadn't realised how bad it was until you're putting your toothbrush in your mouth, leant up against the window sill, a slot of cold air seeping in from the dark outside. Your eyes shutter closed. The scrubbing sound of Remus brushing his teeth is almost lulling.
He swills out his mouth and washes his brush. “Here,” he says gently. You open your eyes just enough to see him beckoning you forward. “Dove, your necklace.”
“Oh. Thanks.” You turn your back to him.
His fingers are damp and cool on your skin as he unclasps your necklace. He often takes it off for you. It's one of the things you'll miss when you guys aren't living together anymore, the slow meander to his bedroom, the wood of his door jam on your cheek as you lean against it and give him a hopeful smile. Sometimes he's awake, reading a novel on his side in bed or listening to music at his desk, other times he's sleeping. On those occasions you spend too long lingering, stolen seconds spent staring at the rise and fall of his shoulder.
“Thank you,” you say as he puts your necklace in the jewellery dish. It comes out missing vowels, lips stuck together as though honeyed.
You spit pathetically in the sink, rinse your brush, and consider sitting down. “I'm tired,” you whine, wiping your lips.
“I know,” Remus says, giving you a fond nudge. “Just wash your face and get on with it.”
“You first. I'm going to nap standing up for a bit.”
He puts as much of his hair behind his ears as he can and turns on the tap. This is just as familiar as brushing your teeth together. It's not quite as bad as watching James Perfect Skin Potter wash his face with bar soap, but you have to admit that Remus’ eight-nine pence face soap hurts your heart. He washes it off, pats his face dry, and takes the small bottle of bio oil out of the medicine cabinet to pipette onto his pinky finger. “Wash your face,” he says, smoothing the oil into his scars one by one.
You shake your head. “M'gonna do it in the morning.”
“That's why your eye was swollen a few weeks ago. You know yourself you won't.”
“I might,” you say, letting out a big breath as you rub your sore eyes even sorer, “I'm too tired.”
“Can you sit up, at least?”
“No.” Remus takes you by the shoulders and forces you to sit on the edge of the bath. “Aggressive?”
“Don't fall in,” he says, cupping your cheek briefly as if to make sure you've heard.
You are hearing him, seeing him, even feeling the immensity of his touch, but you're tired, and you know you can let yourself relax completely with him. You'd be the same with James or Sirius, though neither of them could have your head feeling so dizzyingly light from a single touch as Remus can. You probably wouldn't let them persuade you into this, either, tilting your head back to watch through blurry vision as Remus soaks a cotton round in your facial oil.
“Close your eyes,” he says.
“Was that a dracula impression?”
“I command you.”
You close your eyes. The queasy feeling of oil drags against your lids as Remus wipes them, loosening the stiff tubes of mascara that coat your lashes. It's not a short process because he's very, very gentle, holding your face delicately as though you're a flower in need of coddling, and him the sun. It's the only metaphor that would ever make sense for you and Remus; he's like the sun even if it goes against every statement he's ever made about himself, or anyone else has, for that matter. People think he's a moody, sarcastic boy, and he is, but he's also a vestibule of sweetness, softness, and warmth. The kind of heat you'd only ever feel kissing your skin under the summer sun. But more than that, he's the relief that follows when the clouds come out.
And his hands are all over you. Your head gets heavier by the minute, eased into dozing by his touch and quiet tones. “We're almost done. I'm gonna have to carry you to bed at this rate.”
“I'm going to miss this so much one day,” you say. It's easier to admit when you're not looking at him.
Remus turns on the tap. Hot water runs, you can tell by the sound as strange as it seems, and he wrings the dirtied cotton round before replacing it with a new one. He wets it, bringing it just that touch too hot to your cheeks to wipe you down. “What are you going to miss, dove?”
“Us. You. I'm going to miss you.”
“Where are you going?”
“Nowhere, but one day I will be. James will finally have had enough of us and I'll,” —you swallow around nothing as a rivulet of water runs down your cheek, a cooling tear from the cotton round— “have to move out and we'll never see each other anymore.”
“Don't be silly, you're not going anywhere.”
“It's not about the going,” you murmur, peeling your eyes open tentatively as his dabbing follows down your cheek to your neck. “I miss you sometimes and we still live together. I can't imagine how much I'll miss you…”
Remus puts the cotton round aside. He takes your face into his hand, and suddenly his touch feels raw, nothing like it had moments ago. Because Remus would wash your makeup off for you any day of the week, but his looking at you like this, so unshielded and unabashed, is a rarity.
“You won't have to miss me. Even if we did move away from each other, I wouldn't let it be that far.”
“Friends move away all the time. We don't speak to half the people we knew at school.”
“I only really knew you and the boys,” he says. It isn't true but it is at the same time. Together, you'd been a happy lot, but your current housemates are the ones you'd known. “And see? We're still together.”
“But for how long?” you ask.
Remus brings his second hand, holding your face entirely. He covers your cheeks, index fingers sliding slowly under your ears. He's exceedingly gentle, and his eyes are soft. He holds you like you're made of glass, like you could break under a hint of pressure. Slowly, he tilts his head to the side as though he might lean in for a kiss. Maybe he doesn't know he's doing it, but Remus is a very purposeful soul. He'd do much worse to wind you up if you wanted him to.
You sober up. It's like he has caffeine in his palms.
“You want to go where I'm going, is that it?” he asks quietly.
“Yeah,” you say, barely say, voice shame-facedly weak. Is he asking what you think he is?
“Do you want to start now?”
You breathe out as one of his hands shifts down your jaw. “Yeah, I… I want to start now.”
“Okay, dove. Then close your eyes again.”
You hold his gaze for a second that feels infinitely long and short at once, your heart racing. Clarity has returned, a thrust into wakefulness even if your fatigue ties knots around your ankles. You look at him in his late night glory, his scars shining a pink-white like the petals of a young peony flower, and you know it's happening now.
You shut your eyes.
He steps closer, though the bath you're perched on is low, and he has to bend a considerable amount to reach you. The weight of his hands on you doesn't change, not even as he grows near enough to sense the heat of his breath against your lips. It's his nose that makes first contact as it slides against yours, and then his forehead presses down into you, his lips noticeably absent. Each contiguity between you thrums.
A pit opens in your chest, cleaved by his voice as he says, “I'm going to kiss you, okay? S'that what you want?”
Your hands don't feel like your own. Under the sickening nervousness twining its way through your ribs, you're excited. You're smiling, your voice shaped by it. “Yeah. It's what I want,” you say.
“Good. It's what I've wanted for a while–” while pressed into your lips, all shaken up by an emotion you've never heard him speak with. He kisses you and you're frozen, and he waits and waits and pulls away to push back in. You remember yourself then, responding to his wading with some pressure of your own. Sparked back to life.
It's so strange. It doesn't feel real. Remus Lupin kisses you heated and hard for just long enough to feel it in your teeth before he pulls away. “Sorry,” he murmurs, his fingertip running down your cheek, following that same path as your earlier rivulet. To think he saw it, really saw it, locked it away to remember and trace into your skin now… maybe he's seen much more of you than you realised all along.
“Will you do it again?” you say under your breath.
Remus must hear the thread of insecurity running through your question; you're afraid he'll say no, but he strokes your cheek again with that unfathomable softness and says, “Yeah, dove, of course I will.”
“Do you want to?”
And that's less insecurity and more selfishness, wanting the confession. He hears that, too.
“I want to kiss you more than I've ever wanted anything,” he says, eye to eye with you, your head tipped up and your heart in your throat, twitching and fizzling like a firecracker. “Yeah? And all that missing me you've been doing? All your worrying? You don't need to do that. You've never needed to do that–”
“I just never thought you liked me like that.” You and Remus aren't new to one another. “You've been the same since the day we met.”
Remus’ hands get a little more solid where he's holding you. “Dove. Dove, are you mad?”
“Remus–”
“Maybe I have been the same, but did you really not notice that I–” He squeezes your cheeks playfully, almost in disbelief. “If you want me, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere without you. You're not going anywhere without me.”
“So you like me?”
“Yes,” he says, his eyebrows pinched together at the starts. “Of course I do.” He laughs. “That's what I'm trying to tell you.”
“Oh,” you say, lifting your head.
Remus shuts his eyes a millisecond before you shut your own and kisses you again. The second round is softer, his smile to yours and struggling to find purchase. His breath huffs out in a minty laugh, shockwaves through your mouth.
“Stop laughing,” he breathes, his hands falling to your neck, your shoulders.
“You first.”
Your lips part under his, a split-second of contact. He yanks away before things can get too heavy, and you're glad he does, but for a moment you feel the loss like a wave of vertigo.
“Sorry, I'm going too fast, and you're tired.” His touch is ticklish behind your shoulder.
“It's okay. Maybe it is a bit fast, but I'm not tired anymore,” you confess.
Remus hugs you, cementing every feeling for him you have as he wraps his arms around you from over your shoulders, a deft hand cupped behind your neck. “That's not true. I can feel your back shaking. Let's go to bed.”
“After that?”
“What, are you worried it won't have happened in the morning?” he asks genuinely.
You go limp in his arms as he takes your weight against his chest. Not worried, but rather not sure you can be away from him so soon. You ask him in a whisper if you can come and sit with him, not to sleep with him, not to do anything else, and he whispers back, Anything you want. You both entertain the lie that you won't fall asleep in his bed.
—
Remus tenses as he hears the scuffling sounds of movement downstairs. It takes a train of thought awakening for him to realise it's only James, rising early as usual to put on a load of washing and prepare bits for lunch before he goes off for training. He can see him in his mind's eye if he tries, his friend dressed in the red and white rugby uniform, green socks up over his calves and white cleats scrubbed pristine for another ruck in the mud.
Remus’ relaxes, stretching out in bed until his hand bumps into something rigid.
He flinches.
You're laying on the mattress beside him, your head slipped off of the pillows and your arm tucked beneath you. It doesn't look comfortable, and if it were any other morning he'd pull it straight for you, but.
I kissed you, he thinks to himself, as though talking to you. He turns away from you until his back clicks and alleviates the ache in his hips, though he has to settle eventually, back on his back, no way of ignoring you. He doesn't want to ignore you. The opposite —why are you so far away? Can he hold you?
What are the rules here?
Kissing… not dating… You're here in his bed, you'd asked to stay.
He takes your hand and pulls at your arm. Still sleeping, you mumble and move onto your back, releasing the pressure on your shoulder as he pulls you toward his chest. Your face is impassive, lax in sleep.
He should let you sleep.
“Dove,” he says, stroking up the length of your arm.
“Mm?” you hum.
“I need to ask you something.”
You twitch awake with a small cough. Your eyes are red with a lack of sleep as you open them, blinking, and he wishes stupidly that he could make it better. He makes a sympathetic sound for want of more to do.
“Why have you woken me up?” you ask, blinking at him. You gather that there's nothing urgent happening and push your face into his shoulder, practically nuzzling him. “It's Saturday.”
“I just need to ask you something.”
“So ask me,” you encourage through your sleepiness.
The washing machine whirs downstairs. It’s an old machine that you often joke is taking off into orbit during the final spin, loud as anything. He can barely hear your sluggish breathing underneath it, but he can't miss the catch in it after he asks, “Can I be your boyfriend?”
It's not the catch he's expecting. You laugh and readjust, wrapping your arms around him from the side and kissing the side of his neck clumsily. “Y'u asked me last night,” you say in a borderless run-on, sounding about as dopily in love as he's ever heard you.
He thinks about it. Yes, he did, after he'd kissed you many more times than he should've and curled up in bed with you, hands held loosely beneath the blankets. He remembers the question, the answer. The last kiss that followed, and you falling asleep beside him.
“I need a coffee,” he says, encouraging your head back so he can kiss your temple.
“No, you need to sleep more with me. And maybe kiss me again. If you want to.”
Sleeping isn't half as interesting as kissing you. He slots his nose against yours and languishes in the feeling of your lips, wondering if he's having a false start. He could still be dreaming. It would make sense.
The door clatters open with a curse. James stands in the doorway with a folded pile of Remus' washing from the radiators in his arms, an apology on his lips, “Sorry, mate, the door got away from– oh my god. Oh my god?”
Remus isn't an overly shy guy but he can't deal with this. “For fuck's sake,” he mutters, dropping his face into your shoulder. Your arm wraps under his neck, fingers splayed across his cheek.
“James–” you begin, resigned to your fate.
“This is flat-cest. This is the cardinal sin.”
“We don't live in a flat,” Remus says.
“That makes it worse. You can't even blame close quarters.” Remus peeks up to watch James in the doorway, still clinging to Remus’ washing, pure shock curdling his features. He shakes his head. “I'm telling Sirius.”
“Please don't!” you say.
You slump back into the pillows as James leaves anyways.
Remus hugs your soft abdomen. “Don't worry,” he says.
“I guess it's a good thing you've already asked me out,” you say.
“Why, what can they do?” Remus asks, wondering if he's allowed to put his face on your chest or if that's too forward. You rake a hand through his hair and encourage him forward, to his delight.
Frantic words. You and Remus loved up in bed despite it.
“I'm chucking them out!”
“James, they've been seeing for weeks. Can I go back to sleep?”
“What?!”
You grumble into his hair. “That's not even true… Does everyone know, then? That I liked you?”
Remus thinks of the shadow of you in the doorway, that sheepish smile you send his way before you ask him to unclasp your necklace before bed, or your face as he’d wiped the sooty stain of mascara from your cheek last night, half in love with him as you fell asleep in his palm.
“I don't think so, lovely,” he comforts. “Don't worry about it. We'll clear it up at lunch time. James isn't even mad, he's just sulking thinking we didn't tell him.”
“How could you not tell me?” James asks on cue, rounding the door again, arms ever tighter around the bundle of Remus’ clothes. He assumes it's being kept hostage. “I thought we were best mates.”
“James,” you say softly, all sympathy.
Remus likes the feeling of your voice under his ear, and your slightly too-quick heartbeat. He could fall asleep here and now if it weren't for the company.
“It's new,” you're saying, softness melded to a sweet pride. “Okay? I've barely told Remus how I feel, of course I was going to tell you. We were only talking about it last night. It really hasn't been weeks, Sirius is a stirrer.”
Remus pulls the covers up over your heads and climbs on top of you in a rush, demanding that the both of you be left alone, to James’ great annoyance but your delight, your laughter loud in the shell of his ear. Your chest shakes with it beneath him.
A great wad of fabric hits him in the legs. “Twats,” James says, seemingly stalking off.
Your whisper sends shivers down his spine. “We're alone again. Do you have anything else to ask me while you're too tired to remember?” you tease.
There's not a chance in the world that Remus would ever forget this.
˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚
thanks for reading!! I really hope you enjoyed, it's been a little bit since I wrote for remus like this so I was actually a bit nervous and I hope it's okay :D <3
#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x fem!reader#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x y/n#marauders era#remus x reader#remus x you#marauders#remus lupin drabble#remus lupin blurb#marauders x reader#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin fanfic#remus lupin fanfiction#the marauders
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𝐅𝐀𝐕 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍?
pairing: gojo, geto, choso, and toji x fem!reader (separate)
summary: celeb!au where the boys are interviewed and asked a pretty personal question ! (I took nanami out bc I don't think he would want to share your business with the world)
content: kinda suggestive, established relationships, allusions to sexual themes, mentions of dacryphyilia in toji's, pet names, cursing, celebrity!au (model, singer, actor, etc)
wc: 1.4k
♡ 𝐒. 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎
"Yes, yes! Thank you for joining us today, Gojo-san. All of your fans are excited to see you play the new lead role in this upcoming movie!" For the past hour Gojo has been answering questions many of his fans have with an interviewer who has gathered some of the most asked questions.
"Next question!" The women exclaims excitedly, when she reads the card she pauses in shock, "Um.. who put this card in there...?" Now the white haired actor was curious.
"Well, what does it say? I'm sure it can't be that bad." His cocky attitude is showing, but a huge percentage of his fans like when he's like this. It makes fantasizing him all the more creative and exciting; or so you hear.
"Uh...uh. Um-" She remembers the camera is rolling, and this is live TV. "Many fans know you have a girlfriend and a lot of them want to ask,
"What is your favorite position?"
Gojo knew his PR team would probably get on his ass for answering this question instead of moving on to a different one but he doesn't care- at all.
"This is a tough one... hm. I guess if I had to choose I'd say cowgirl. I love the way she rides," he pauses for a second before continuing with excitement, "She's hella good at it too! Every time I watch her bounce on it my eyes about roll to the back of my-"
"OKAY. Thank you, Mr. Gojo!" She interrupts, quickly turning to the camera with a very forced smile.
"There you have it! We'll be back after a brief commercial break!"
♡ 𝐒. 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎
Your boyfriend, Suguru, started a podcast about his music life with his band mates two years ago. Since his group already had quite a huge fan base, it was no surprise they took to their podcast with excitement.
Usually the group would talk about funny backstage stories or moments where their performances were almost ruined. Today they're doing a Q&A, the questions that are most asked will be answered first, while less popular questions will be answered later.
"Oh shit, people wanna know Suguru." He quirks an eyebrow, the raven haired male leans his mic towards his lips so the people can hear his voice.
"Know what?" A sly smirk forms on his face because he knows there could be at least a million things 'the people wanna know.'
"They wanna know what's your favorite position to have your girl in." The lead singer snickers whilst asking the question. Suguru clicks his tongue and taps on the desk a few times.
"I really like to have her legs behind her head cuz I can reach really deep that way."
"Sooo, mating press?" Their lead singer is just as nosy as their fans so of course he's gonna press on.
"Hell yeah, man." Some of them clap and others laugh at Suguru's openness.
-----
You were really busy but you decided to tune into your boyfriend's podcast after a bunch of people tagged you on twitter to go listen to today's episode.
When you hear Suguru tell all 2 million of his podcast listeners what position he likes to fuck you in, you scream into your pillow and turn into a giggling mess.
He never knows how to keep his mouth shut, and you love it.
♡ 𝐂. 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎
You're laying on your boyfriend's bed listening to him play his game. Choso's a big time streamer at this point. Four years ago when he started his fan base was quite small and he just enjoyed the few who would join his gaming streams. Now, Choso streams as work and he still loves it just as much as he had long ago.
"Thank you for the tip 'prettyem0b0y22'," Usually Choso reads aloud whatever message they leave with their tips but he hesitates this time.
"Uh- you don't really expect me to answer that, right? She's laying on the bed right now."
That statement immediately grabs your attention, you glance at his monitor screens, trying to get a peek at whatever his fan was asking of him.
It seems plenty of others want to know the answer to this question too because the chat starts speeding up, meaning that they're spamming.
"Guys come on, I'll turn chat off if you guys don't stop." Choso is as scary as a cute little kitten, so they just keep at it, and now you're curious too. What could possibly be that bad that he didn't want to answer it and to be fair he has answered some pretty crazy questions before.
"Indulge me Cho, what did 'prettyem0b0y22' wanna know?" His head swings so fast he could have gotten whiplash from it. His cheeks are burning pink and his brows furrow in confusion.
"I promise it wasn't anything crazy, don't worry about it." Oh, you're worrying about it alright. His strange behavior prompts you to spring up off the bed and walk your way over to his desk.
Instead of just taking a quick look at the chat, you make yourself comfortable in your boyfriend's lap. Obviously the chat goes absolutely crazy when they see you make this gesture. Choso is no doubt embarrassed but he slings an arm around your waist anyway.
"So what was the question he couldn't answer in front of me?" Prettyem0b0y22 wastes no time sending another hefty tip.
"I asked him what's his fav postion with you." When you read the whole thing aloud some giggles leave your lips.
"He likes when I ride him while facing him. For what reason? He's a titty man." Choso gasps as you expose both of you. The risks are high, anyone, literally anyone could see this clip and think something about you, but you don't care. It's your body and his, people don't have power over how you two interact with each other.
The chat explodes with all kinds of things, most are shocked emojis, while others are spamming the cherry emoji. Luckily, Choso's moderator team puts slow chat on and does a few other precautions to settle the situation.
"Baby- I- what if your family sees this? Or worse your boss?!" His concern is absolutely adorable.
"Well I guess I'd have to start a streaming channel of my own?" Everyone in his chat is totally on board with that idea. They've seen you play for Choso before and they think your commentary on games is quite funny.
"I don't want you to lose your job though." This time he whines in pure worry.
"I won't, baby. It'll be alright. Don't overthink it."
♡ 𝐓. 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎
Toji's got what people want to see in model catalogs and magazines. The slutty waist, the well defined but not too defined muscles, his beautiful eyes and long lashes. Toji is a picture perfect model, which is what landed him his modeling gig and even a whole career a few years later.
A journalist, who's particularly interested in his dating life more than his modeling career asks him a bunch of dating related questions.
Some have speculated that Toji was dating, but he neither confirmed nor denied those allegations. You and Toji agreed to keep your relationship on the down low, because having a bunch of strangers in your personal business was not desirable.
The journalist woman words the questions in a way of inference.
"Assuming you had a girlfriend, Fushiguro-sama. What would your favorite position in bed be?" At first Toji groans but then when he registers the question he decides he'll answer it hypothetically when in reality it is something he likes to do with you.
"Hypothetically speaking, if I had a girlfriend my favorite position with her would be missionary, because I'd want to look at her pretty face when she's cryin' on my cock." The journalist writes that down, Toji knows everything he says will be censored but the people will still be able to figure it out.
"Missionary, really? Many people online have guessed you were a doggy-style kind of guy. Based off of your twitter statement that said and I quote 'Love it when her ass is phat. Love squeezing that thing.' End quote"
Toji lets out a deep laugh before answering the woman, "Doggy-style is for people I don't care about, people I don't want to look at, my girl- if I had a girl, she wouldn't be just any fuck."
More theories start to surface after Toji's slip up of words, and that's okay, because they don't know you and you don't know them.
divider: @/plutism
#𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈-𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐒#✩ jjk post#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader smut#gojo x reader#satoru gojo x reader#gojo smut#geto x reader#suguru geto x reader#geto smut#choso x reader#choso kamo x reader#choso smut#toji x reader#toji fushigro x reader#toji smut
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Not gonna be here again this weekend, but I just wanna pop in and say that the Love Live Musical girls sound so good;; I wish I could see them live frfr;;
#;big bubble blowing baby! ( ooc )#( i mean i wish i could've seen all the groups live frfr but like...they are a musical...legit can only see them live fgjfhdjghdhgx#that being said#hopefully!!!!!!!! soon i'll be here for real#i should've known that Only being surrounded by my brother would make me really unmotivated#to be fair he's been really good about kind of trying to give me my space#but i can't really write with Any noise on#and i wanted to be at the desk; but he's listening to tv and doing the dishes...so i give up ghfghfjgchf#'go to your room then' no i'm stubborn and want to be at The Desk!!!!!!#every time i tried to write too he'd be nearby.......even for school things he has this ability to just come over and talk to me#and then i get irrationally annoyed so i just watch vids and play rf5 instead of work gfhgfghfjgxhd#speaking of work though!!!! actually trying to figure out my Bonus Stage of college (i'm calling it this now)#and i have!!!!! multiple plans!!!!!!#i still need to look at the college i'm at right now; and double check to see if one program somewhere else is online or not#but any way i stretch it!!!!!! creative / script writing things will happen!!!!!!!#my biggest thing is i don't wanna move........if the place i really wanna do this at is campus-only.....byebye#though i do like my backup plan a lot too which is a relief#i wanna do a lil something for my community college choir though...before i Leave; you know........#i'm gonna go to winter concert but like.............i feel like i should do More )
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𝘃𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿
╹synopsis :: it doesn't take much to say or show you love someone even with the simplest of actions.
╹contents :: can be read as fem/gn reader; characters from blue lock, jjk and honkai star rail, FLUFF, ooc maybe?
╹notes :: as i was walking to go home at like 10pm i thought of this, hope you enjoy! added hsr specially for @okkalo ♡
ITOSHI SAE immediately takes you out to visit the sea when he gets some days off. The sounds of the waves, the relaxing atmosphere and you in his arms calm him down causing him to flashback to his childhood memories of when he was just a small and carefree child wanting nothing more but to play football with his little brother and personal cheerleader.
Not only he is known as the strongest but GOJO SATORU is also known for having a very strong sweet tooth. So what does he do to reduce the sugar? He shares it with you because there is nothing better than sharing his favourite thing with his lover, so let's say he gets a double dose of chocolate and candy from just seeing you and that's enough.
AVENTURINE is not afraid to take the risk and his constant smile makes it difficult for people to guess his true intentions. Not with you though, he lets his guard down, your voice soothing him to help him relax and as he gets lost in your touch. He is not Aventurine of the IPC or the Ten Stonehearts, he is just Kakavasha the little boy who once dreamed of love and now he won the biggest treasure in his life — you.
ITOSHI RIN knows how much you don't like scary movies, and that's why when you come over for the weekends you watch movies or series of your choice, be it Barbie or The Lion King. He will swallow his ego and stop watching the weekly uploads of his favourite scary games just so you can't fall asleep on purpose because of the horror films.
GETO SUGURU can't stop talking about how beautiful, amazing, and kind you are. Mimiko and Nanako are tired because they are the only ones who get to hear all his murmuring when you are away even for only 5 minutes. But they know how much he loves you and how you breathe life into him, and he wishes that someday they will become like you — strong and good-hearted.
ARGENTI thanks and prays to Idrila every moment of his life for obtaining the biggest blessing to ever exist and that is meeting you. The Knight of Beauty makes sure to give you one red rose every day to express his profound love and admiration, it's a small gesture that symbolizes his devotion to the relationship. He should protect his lover and like flowers, the tender petals are directed to you, with the thorns to the cosmic and its danger protecting you
It may seem that he is spoiled, but in fact, NAGI SEISHIRO is not, well not that much. Sometimes he takes charge of the household chores, giving you, a well-deserved break. He washed the dishes, cooked you a meal (instant noodles), and even tried to fold the laundry. And you, pleasantly surprised, sank into the couch, embracing the rare luxury of relaxation as familiar songs from your shared playlist were playing on the TV. Even if it doesn't happen often you are forever grateful for your lazy boyfriend to do something like that.
ITADORI YUJI shows genuine interest and actively listens to you talking about your current obsession be it a series, celebrity, book, food, or anything. He loves your voice, seeing your beautiful smile, and how your eyes seem to sparkle as you talk, he is so lovestruck that he sometimes just stares at you with the most soft and genuine look. Just don't be surprised when you find some merchandise on your desk with a little love note, okay?
Engaging in meaningful conversations and connecting on a deeper level with DR. RATIO seems like every other normal day for him. He approaches every interaction with a thirst for knowledge. And you take him by surprise every time and he doesn't know what to do, the great genius suddenly stops functioning. The way you hold his hand, kiss his cheek, make him stutter — he goes crazy and questions himself about how there is no logical explanation for this, but there is, it is called love.
SHIDOU RYUSEI doesn't like to share his material possessions with anyone, he worked so hard to get the last volumes of Chainsaw Man as they are now put on the shelf in his bedroom. And imagine his reaction when he sees you reading volume 10 which has Makina on the cover, cuddled nicely with his blanket on the bed. How dare you read it without him? And so he jumps onto the mattress, squishing you because that's your punishment for not telling him. You apologized to him of course but for him to fully forgive you, next time you will be on anicon cosplaying Makima and Denji.
FUSHIGURO MEGUMI remembers the small details about you and your preferences. If you don't like a certain ingredient in the food, he will order the dish without it. You like to sleep on this side of the bed, no problem he will sleep on the other side as you both cuddle and drift to Dreamland. He will immediately notice the change in your mood and even if he is not so good with words, he will always be there for you offering his warm embrace.
As a Galaxy Ranger BOOTHILL tends to travel around the cosmos a lot and sadly he can't spend time with you. But when he's with you, one of the things you do is his hair and to put cute stickers on his metal hands or guns. The scary cyborg cowboy is now a pretty princess with pigtails, heart stickers and with a very happy lover. He watches you having fun with his makeover — and will do everything possible to spend more time with you.
©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work.
#✧* 🤍 blue lock#✧* 🤍 jujutsu kaisen#✧* 🤍 honkai star rail#blue lock#blue lock x reader#bllk x reader#x reader#sae x reader#rin x reader#nagi x reader#shidou x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#gojo x reader#geto x reader#itadori x reader#megumi x reader#jjk fluff#blue lock fluff#honkai star rail#hsr x reader#aventurine x reader#dr ratio x reader#argenti x reader#boothill x reader#honkai star rail x reader#blue lock x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#hsr x you
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game day || matt sturniolo
matt sturniolo x fem!reader
summary: it's a game day and matt bought matching outfits for you to wear
warnings: fluff, a little bit of a dirty talk,
word count: 1,061
a/n: hi! I'm alive. I hope you will like this one. Matt in green is just jiqwehuherfuer. REQUESTS ARE OPEN didn't proof read yet
🍒
"Literally its just me, you and Chris here, it does not need to look good baby" Matt said after I was changing placement of the strawberries on my board.
"That's why I hope Nick is going to actually join us because he is the only one who appreciate my snack boards" I looked at him while opening cupcakes.
"Hey... I love them do not listen to anything he says y/n!" Chris came from downstairs and intimately took one of the cupcakes.
I hit his hand gently and narrowed my eyes at him.
"Are you being for real now? Can I finish this at peace? Go put the tv on or do whatever or I am going to eat it alone" I looked at both of them.
'Yes, ma'am" Chris put his hands up for defense and took one last cupcake.
"I love love love you" He laughed and run to the couch before I could yelled at him.
"I feel like a mother of three in this house, I swear" I said and Matt just laughed.
"That would do it....considering how you like to call me daddy" He winked at me and I rolled my eyes but my cheeks went red.
"Go away Matthew" I said going back to working on my snacks.
"Just give me one raspberry and a kiss and I am gone" He came closer to me and wrapped his arms around me.
" I hate you" I said and picked up one of the berries and raised it to his lips.
"You love me..." He smiled, ate the berry and kissed my cheek before he went to his room.
"I am actually going to throw up because of you two" Chris said from the couch with grimace on his face.
"You should actually find a girlfriend so I can have a best friend to talk shit about you and Matt" I said finishing up.
"Thats why it is not going to happen...One of you here is enough and it’s not like you’re already talk shit about us with Nick" He joked.
I took my phone out to take pictures of the board. I tried different angles so it would look good.
"See how this is not fair because is three of you here and I need to handle that all by myself" I laughed and brought the board to the coffee table when I was done with pictures.
" Aw it looks so cute y/n! I would say I do not even care if Celtics will win anymore but that would be a lie" He said.
"Thanks Chris. Grab some drinks? I am going to change, Matt is making me wear green." I laughed and went to Matt's room.
Matt was on his bed doing something on his phone.
"Okay... I am done and I can wear whatever you said you have for me" I said closing the doors behind me.
"Yey... so I bought you shorts so you could match my jersey" He said and took out the nike shorts from the bag that was sitting on his desk. He was so exited about it that it put smile on my face.
That made me want to scream and shout. I can't believe that boy is mine. He was the cutest. He was already wearing the jersey with number 9. He looked so good in green and his hair was super fluffy today. I could eat him here and there.
"Matt you are unreal, I love you, did you know that? Thank you" I took the shorts from him.
"I love you too, sweet girl" He smiled at me.
I smiled back and took my black sweatpants and matching hoodie off. I had white top and black lacy panties on.
"I might want you to actually stay in this...." Matt said and sat back down on his bed looking at me.
"Yes... I don't know, you always rip them of me and then I am waiting for my favorite time of the year when Victoria does 10 pairs for 35 bucks" I winked at him and slid the shorts on.
They were a little too big for me but that was good. I loved the cute little clover on the front.
"I love this team only for the colors and the clover" I said and walked to my boyfriend.
"Mhm... I think I start to love them for that too" He smiled up at me and pulled me even closer between his legs.
He kissed my skin just over the waistband and I smiled how my body right away reacted with a goosebump. I ran my hand through his hair.
"Come here..." He pulled me down a little so I straddle him.
"Matt the game is starting soon and I am pretty sure that Chris already ate half of the snacks..." I started but he kissed my neck gently.
"Shh...." He said and I bite my bottom lip slightly tilting my neck.
"You just smell and look so good baby" He said and gave my neck one more kiss before connecting our lips together. I scratched back of his neck before I put one of my hands on his cheek while the other wondered up to his hair while we make out for what it seemed like forever. I was lost in his touch when Chris yelled at us that hame is about to start.
"Ugh...fine" Matt laughed and moved away a little.
"You look hotter than me in this jersey Matt..." I said fixing his hair a little.
" See we are just made for each other" He patted my bum so I stood up from him and fixed my own hair as well.
Chris yelled one more time adding that he is going to eat all of the snacks.
"Honestly I would rather eat something else right now"m…” Matt smiled at me when I opened the doors.
"Same man... but well… we promised Chris a dudes weekend" I laughed and walked out of the room.
"See thats why I hate living with them sometimes...." He said walking behind me.
We joined Chris in the living room to watch the game. I posted some phots of my board and the fit on my account as we enjoyed the winning of the team.
#chris sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x reader#nick sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo x reader
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weekend getaway
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader (established relationship)
Summary: Joel whisks you away for a surprise Valentine's Day weekend.
Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, flirting, explicit smut (18+MDNI), (somewhat - reader is on BC) unprotected piv sex, fingering, size kink (maybe? Idk it's mentioned), soft!joel, some very mild allusions to pregnancy, oral (m receiving), panty ripping, cheesy because this is still a Hallmark-type couple so don't look at me
WC: 9.2K
Series Masterlist
dividers by @saradika-graphics
tagging @morallyinept for your V-Day list consideration
"Any big plans for Valentine's Day?" your project supervisor, Kelly, asked over your Zoom call. You glanced at the clock on your wall - 4:30. Why did she always feel the need to ask questions and prolong a meeting right at the end of the day? And on a Friday, no less.
You anxiously jiggled your foot under your desk as you listened to the rest of the group detail their weekend plans with loved ones. When it was your turn, you tapped your spacebar to unmute.
"I'm going to dinner with my boyfriend and his daughter tonight," you said quickly, wanting the meeting to end so you could go get ready. As if on cue, you heard a key sliding into your front door and Joel stepped through, shooting you a cheesy grin. He was about to walk over and give you a kiss, but you held your hand up and discreetly pointed to your monitor, indicating you were still on a video call.
He nodded and instead went into your kitchen and opened up the fridge. You frowned when you realized he was still in jeans and a T-shirt.
"Why aren't you dressed? Where's Sarah?" you asked when he got a little closer, ignoring your co-worker who was rambling on about her weekend plans.
He just shrugged and winked before heading to your couch, not saying a word.
Your call went on for another fifteen minutes while you stared at the back of Joel's head as he flicked through the channels on your TV. What was going on?
"Are we not doing dinner tonight?" you asked as you slid your headset off and powered down your computer.
"We are, but it'll have to be on the road," he said casually, barely glancing backwards over the couch.
"The road?" you repeated, tilting your head to the side as you came over to stand next to the couch. He nodded and turned off the TV to finally look at you with a flicker of playfulness in his eyes.
"I'm takin' you away for the weekend," he said, grinning when your face lit up.
"What?" you exclaimed in disbelief. "I thought-"
"It was just to throw you off, I never made plans for dinner tonight. Tommy's watchin' Sarah all weekend, so it's just me and you," he said, pushing himself off the couch so he could wrap his arms around you. You tilted your chin up, brushing your lips over his softly as your arms snaked around his waist.
"I like the sound of that," you murmured, giving him another kiss and feeling his facial hair tickle your cheek when his lips turned up into a smirk.
"Better go pack a bag," he said, pulling away and tapping your ass, urging you towards your bedroom. You let out a squeak of excitement as you trotted into your room and grabbing a duffel bag, you began to pack your toiletries.
"Bring a dress," he said, leaning against your doorframe, watching you maneuver in and out of your bathroom, your hands filled.
"What kind of dress?" you asked.
"The red one. The one you wore to Sarah's recital."
"That one? But I have so many I haven't even worn yet," you said, scrunching your nose as you came back into the room, heading towards your closet.
"Yeah, but I really like that one," he said, coming up behind you, his hand finding a home on your hip as you shuffled through your clothes. You found it pushed to the back of your closet and pulled the dress out, showing it to him with your eyebrow raised and he nodded his approval.
"What else do you want me to wear?" you asked him.
"You know if it were up to me, it would be nothin'," he teased, and you giggled.
"Well, I hope you can make an exception, otherwise you're going to hate your Valentine's gift."
He groaned and felt himself stir below his waist when he realized what you meant.
"Hurry up and pack. We got a two hour drive and if you keep talkin' like that, we ain't gonna make it," he said, sauntering out of your bedroom, shaking his head.
You had been to Houston a few times in the past, but only ever with your family for shopping trips or to visit your aunt and uncle who lived out that way. But visiting the city with Joel felt like you were seeing it for the very first time. He always had a way of making something ordinary feel special.
Joel had booked two nights at The Houstonian Hotel, and when you first walked into the lobby, your jaw dropped. It was absolutely stunning and unlike any hotel you've ever stayed in before. The floors appeared to be all original hardwood, and the walls were designed to match: a dark paneling with a delicate wainscotting decorating the wood from floor to ceiling. Joel led you towards the front desk to check in, but your eyes were glued to the massive stone fireplace in the center of the room surrounded by cozy looking couches and chairs in front of the roaring fire. Your head tilted up to admire the exposed wooden beams and sparkling chandeliers when Joel got your attention.
"Did you want access to the gym or tennis court?" he asked again, pleased at how impressed you seemed to be with the hotel he chose.
"Huh? Oh, no thank you," you said, shaking your head and giving the man behind the front desk a smile.
"Joel, this place is incredible," you whispered, wrapping your hand around his bicep as you waited for the elevator. "You didn't have to go through so much trouble. I would have slept in your truck if it meant I got to spend time with you."
He grinned as the elevator dinged and the doors opened.
"Yeah, but my truck doesn't have a hot tub or enormous bathtub, and I intend on getting you in both before the weekend's through."
You felt your cheeks warm as you giggled, glancing up at the numbers above the door, eager to see your room.
"Oh my god, this place is so beautiful," you exclaimed when Joel swung open the door to your room and ushered you inside. The wallpaper was patterned with broad vertical stripes in a shimmery silver color that matched the comforter and sheets on the king sized bed in the middle of the room, with pink and red rose petals scattered across the fabric. Opposite the bed was a flat screen TV mounted to the wall with a small chest of drawers right below and a dozen perfect, red roses in a vase on top. You were about to hurry over to the window and check out the view when Joel flicked the lights on in the bathroom, catching your attention and making you gasp.
The room was huge. There was the enormous, freestanding bathtub Joel promised, right in front of a floor length tinted window. Next to the tub was a spacious shower encased in glass, and behind you were two sinks and a mirror almost as big as the wall.
"Wow," was all you could say, your eyes still taking in the room, noticing a pink orchid on the sink and fern in the corner for the first time.
"You like it?" he asked softly, watching you closely. You swiveled around to look at him, your eyes still wide with shock.
"I love it," you said, still a little breathless. He grinned and stepped forward to wrap his arms around you.
"Good. Wanted to make our first Valentine's Day special," he murmured before leaning down slightly to press his lips gently against yours.
"Well, you succeeded because I don't think I want to leave this room all weekend," you whispered, bringing your hands up to grip the sides of his head for another kiss.
"Don't tempt me. I'll cancel the dinner reservation I made for tomorrow without thinkin' twice," he said, grinning against your mouth as you continued to pepper his face with kisses.
"So you're saying we don't have any plans tonight?" you asked suggestively, dragging your mouth down his prickly jaw, biting at his skin lightly as you went. His grip around you tightened.
"Just thought we could relax, knew we'd be gettin' in kinda late," he murmured, his eyes sliding shut when your mouth made its way to his neck, never growing tired of the way you made him feel.
"I know a great way to relax," you replied, your fingers inching up his chest as you continued to suck and bite your way down the column of his throat. You could feel his exhale tickling the top of your head, his breath quickening as your hands dropped down under the hem of his shirt. "Why don't we take that bath you mentioned?"
"Yes," he whispered, eyes still closed and leaning into your touch.
"Tell you what," you sighed, your mouth barely leaving his skin. "You go check in with Sarah, and I'll get the tub ready."
"Okay," he said softly as if he were in a trance. Nobody has ever made him weak in the knees the way you do, and he loved it.
Leaving Joel in the bedroom to call Sarah, you turned the water on, dipping your fingers under the stream until you found the perfect temperature, then turned your attention to the amenities that were left on the sink. Picking up each little bottle, you read the descriptions until you found bubble bath. Twisting open the cap, you sniffed the pleasant floral scent before dumping it into the water and swirling it around, trying to encourage the bubbles to form. Once you thought there was enough water, you turned off the faucet, allowing you to hear the end of Joel's conversation in the next room. You thought you heard him asking Sarah about an action movie you assumed she and Tommy were watching as you stripped down and slipped into the water, leaning back against the side and closing your eyes with a heavy sigh. The warmth combined with the heavenly scent soothed your muscles almost immediately.
This was absolutely perfect. You were constantly amazed by the way Joel treated you, but this weekend might take the cake.
You heard a noise so you opened your eyes, then grinned when you found Joel leaning up against the doorframe, gazing at you from across the room.
"Sorry, I got started without you," you teased, and although the bubbles hid your body from the neck down, the way he looked at you made you feel like he could see everything.
"This's gotta be the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he said, still standing in the doorway. Then his eyes lit up when an idea occurred to him. "Can I take a picture?"
"What?" you giggled, taken aback by his request.
"You can't see anythin'," he assured you, stepping into the room. "I just wanna remember you exactly the way you are, right now."
"Okay..." you agreed hesitantly, watching as he pulled his phone from his back pocket. You nervously tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, then looked up to give him a smile. He clicked his tongue and lowered the phone a bit so he could look at you.
"I want a real smile," he said, and you snorted.
"That is my real smile."
"Nah, that's your polite smile. I want the real thing," he told you. You gave him your polite smile again, but this time he kept his phone up, knowing how to draw out what he was looking for.
"I love you, baby."
You felt the warmth in your cheeks and your smile stretch wide across your face. Your eyes shyly dropped down to look at the water and then you heard the shutter click on his phone.
"That's the one," he said proudly, looking at it quickly before setting his phone on the sink.
"Good. Now get in here."
"Yes, ma'am," he said with a grin, and hastily undid his belt, watching greedily as he peeled off his clothes, one by one. You noticed with pride he was already having a reaction to you and he hadn't even seen you naked yet.
He stepped into the water with a hiss, then slipped his whole body underneath the bubbles, resting against the other end of the tub with a smile.
"Feels good," he mumbled.
"Not too girly?" you asked, scooting forward and scooping up some bubbles with your hands, then reached out to rub them into his beard, making him chuckle.
"Not at all," he said, still smiling as the bubbles you planted on his cheeks began to drip down into the water. His eyes scanned your face for a moment before he spread his legs under the water and beckoned you forward with his hands.
"C'mere."
You nimbly turned around so you were facing the same direction, then leaned back, resting flat against his chest. His hands squeezed your shoulders gently and then slid down your arms, dipping below the water. You hummed and rested the back of your head against his shoulder. His fingers danced across your skin underneath the bubbles, calloused palms dragging over your soft stomach slowly, and by now, the evidence of his arousal was pressing firmly into your lower back.
"You're so beautiful, d'you know that?" he whispered in your ear. His knees tucked underneath your legs, parting them and spreading them wide, holding them open underneath the water. Your pulse began to thrum faster when you realized what he was doing.
"Relax," he reminded you, feeling you tense up as his hand drifted further down. You exhaled shakily and closed your eyes, letting your muscles go lax as his hands massaged your hips, slowly making their way between your legs.
You gasped softly when two of his fingers found your clit. He began to draw slow, deliberate circles while his other hand snuck up and massaged your breast. His mouth left kisses all down the side of your neck as his fingers steadily worked just below the surface, building you up slowly in only the way he knew how.
"I love you," you whispered, eyes still closed but brows pinched and jaw slack as your breathing began to devolve into short pants. You were fairly certain you repeated it a number of times, I love you, I love you, but you were too lost, his fingers knowing what you needed better than your own ever could.
He might have said it back, you couldn't remember. His fingers picked up the pace between your legs while his other hand rolled your nipple expertly between his thumb and forefinger, and you found yourself gripping the side of the tub frantically as your orgasm hit you out of nowhere, blinding you and making you see stars somehow at the same time.
"So pretty... that's my girl... love how you say my name when you come," he mumbled.
You didn't even realize you were saying it, but you believed him.
"Oh, my god," you gasped, finally opening your eyes, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. His fingers slowed, then stilled, then gently pulled away, causing you to shudder, even though you were surrounded by so much warmth.
Once you managed to come back down to earth, you turned your head to the side, your lips latching onto his. He immediately deepened the kiss, his tongue delving inside your mouth, licking past your teeth urgently. His hand rose up, the splashing of water the only sound in the room, and gently gripped your chin, index finger and thumb pressing into the soft flesh of your cheeks, prying your mouth open so he could feast.
You dropped your hand below the bubbles, your tongues still dancing, the grip on your jaw still firm and wet. Lifting your hips so your fingers could search underneath, you lined his throbbing length against your opening before slowly easing down.
The kiss stalled, open mouths hovering over the other as you each focused intently on him entering you, and only when you finally were able to accommodate his size and take him all did you both sigh with relief.
"Fuck, you're so tight," he whined as his fingers released their grip on your jaw. Your head fell limply against his shoulder but still turned to the side so you could look at him. "How are- shit," he cursed, his hips slowing down when water splashed over the side of the tub. "How are you still so tight? Goddamn," he groaned.
Your arm snaked up out of the water, reaching behind you, hand getting lost in his curls and pulling him down for a sloppy kiss as his hips rocked into you steadily from behind. You had no idea how he did it, but every time with him felt like the first time, and it always took your breath away.
"'Cause you're so big," you whispered against his mouth, knowing that answer would spark something in him. And you were right. His eyes flashed excitedly at the compliment and his hips moved faster, making you moan.
"Yeah?" he pressed, urging you to continue as he panted against your cheek. "Biggest you've ever had?"
"Yes," you admitted quickly, nodding your head, mouth agape as he nudged against that spot inside you that always made you come undone. "Oh god, Joel," you whimpered, trying to stave off your orgasm, knowing it was coming too soon after your first one.
Your legs began to shake as his knees pinned them to the sides of the tub, keeping you spread wide open as he thrusted into you, water sloshing over the sides and splashing your faces, but neither of you cared.
"Need you to come," he said through gritted teeth. "I'm close, baby, need you to come. Can you- fuck, can you come for me?"
"Yeah," you whined, then gasped when his hand unexpectedly dove under the water to find your clit again. It took no time at all for him to draw another orgasm from you, this one much faster than the first, but somehow even more powerful. When you clenched around him and cried out his name, fingers slipping through his wet hair, he couldn't hold back any longer. Your body sagged against him as he thrusted slow, long strokes, groaning as he came deep inside you, pulling your hips against him roughly until his body stilled and a shiver ran down his spine.
"Shit," he whispered, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead into your hair. He began to soften inside you but he wasn't ready to move just yet. Wrapping his arms around you, he held you close against his chest until the water began to cool and he felt goosebumps prickle your skin.
"Let's get you to bed," he said, and you nodded sleepily.
He drained the tub and wrapped you in one of the two robes that hung on the back of the door, taking the other for himself before pulling the comforter back, disregarding the rose petals on the bed.
You slid underneath the soft, cool sheets, still wrapped in the fuzzy robe, completely uninterested in unpacking and finding pajamas. Joel curled up behind you, his arm snaking around your waist and pulled you tight against him.
As he felt your breath deepen and slow, he was confident that he had never been more content in his entire life than he was in that moment.
The next morning was lazy and slow. For once, neither of you felt compelled to start the day. There was no urgency about running errands or getting to work or keeping up with Sarah and her busy schedule. When you woke, after murmuring Happy Valentine's Day against each other's mouths between kisses, you sleepily discussed options for breakfast, both of you scrolling on your phones, scanning menus for nearby cafes before ultimately deciding on room service just so you could lounge in bed a bit longer.
Sitting perched on top of the crumpled comforter, rose petals still haphazardly scattered about, you put your trays in the middle of the bed, picking off of each other's plates and taking a quick picture of the heart shaped pancakes before devouring them. He reached forward to collect some whipped cream from the corner of your mouth with his thumb and you fed him a strawberry, giggling when he gently snagged your finger tip with his teeth to suck the juices that stained your skin.
"Give me a real smile," you teased him, holding your phone in front of your face and biting back a laugh at how silly he looked, still clad in the plush hotel robe, revealing a generous amount of his tanned chest, with a pile of rose petals balancing on top of his messy curls.
After you snapped a couple pictures, he lunged forward and yanked your phone from your grasp, rose petals fluttering down around you as you giggled. He pinned you into the bed and smothered you with kisses as you writhed underneath him, acting like you wanted to get away but you couldn't imagine anywhere else you'd rather be. Rolling off to the side, he held your phone up above your faces and started taking pictures: a blurry, off-centered one, one where you were both smiling and kissing, another where you gently sunk your teeth onto his earlobe and he pretended to be in pain.
You couldn't have imagined a more perfect way to wake up on Valentine's Day.
"What are we doing today?" you asked him as you pulled on your sneakers once you both finally relented and decided you should at least see the city a little bit before you had to leave tomorrow.
"There's some great museums, thought you'd like to pick one. There's always the zoo or the aquarium. Or we can just walk 'round-"
"Museum sounds perfect," you told him, standing up on your tiptoes to give him what was likely the millionth kiss in the past twelve hours.
"Then I got us reservations at some fancy Italian spot two blocks over," he said, squinting down at his phone while he walked, leading you to the elevator. "Here's all the museums downtown, pick the best one," he said, handing you his phone and pressing the button for the elevator.
"The best one?" you repeated with a laugh.
"Y'know what I mean," he smirked, stepping forward into the elevator and pushing the lobby button.
You decided on the science museum, thinking maybe you could find Sarah a cool souvenir while you were there. She had recently taken an interest in Ancient Egypt and you noticed they had an exhibition on the topic.
Although the museum was a ways away from your hotel and the air was frigid, you still chose to walk. Hand in hand, you strolled together down the street, admiring the tall buildings and bridges in the distance.
When you walked past a coffee shop, Joel ushered you both inside to warm up and get some hot drinks to hold before you reached the museum. When the barista asked what you wanted, Joel answered for you, telling him your favorite drink, rattling it off from memory as if it were his phone number, and you smiled.
You had each finished your drinks right before reaching the museum. Tossing your empty cup into a nearby garbage can, you dropped your hand to your side, fingers seeking his out of habit, always looking for a reason to touch him. As you watched him gaze up at the enormous dinosaur skeleton that greeted you in the front lobby, you wondered how on earth you got so lucky. With so many people in the world, how was it possible you found him? Was it fate? Destiny? But at the same time, you wondered why it took so long to find each other. You each could have saved yourselves so much pain with past lovers, but maybe you both needed to feel that pain in order to fully appreciate what you have now.
"Sarah's going to be so jealous she missed this," you murmured as you slowly strolled through an exhibition about space.
Joel tried to pay attention to the endless stars and galaxies above your heads, but the dim overhead lighting accentuating your perfect features kept drawing his gaze.
Your hands linked together loosely, he followed you around the dark room, watching as your eyes sparkled and the corners of your mouth twitched into a smile when you saw something especially beautiful. He glanced around the nearly empty exhibition before tugging on your hand, spinning you around in surprise and pulling you against his chest. His free hand came up to pinch your chin, tipping your face up to his and pressing his lips gently against yours.
"I love you," he whispered.
"I know," you replied with a teasing grin.
He watched as you entered the Ancient Egypt exhibition, dropping his hand so you could pull out your phone and take pictures. You smiled down at the screen, your thumbs tapping away quickly, far quicker than he ever could, as you texted his daughter some pictures with a message that included the words we miss you, happy Valentine's Day, kiddo.
"Which one should we get her?" you asked him in the gift shop, turning around to hold up two books. He took his time examining each one while thinking about how sweet you always were with Sarah. She never told him outright, but he could tell she looked up to you, and while he and Tommy did their best to give Sarah everything she ever needed after her mom abandoned them, he always knew he couldn't give her everything, no matter how hard he tried. But seeing his daughter with you over the past few months, he could already tell you were giving her something she always craved: a strong, warm, maternal presence in her life.
"This one," he said finally, putting the other book back on the shelf.
"I hope you don't mind if I wait til after dinner to give you your gift," you told him, walking down the street together, one hand linked with his, the other gripping the plastic bag that carried Sarah's book.
He suddenly remembered what you alluded to while you were packing and he turned to you with great interest.
"Can I get a hint?"
You giggled, your cheeks beginning to warm even though the air was cold.
"It matches the dress you picked out for me."
He groaned, mentally trying to divert the rush of blood literally anywhere else other than between his legs.
When you got ready for dinner that evening, Joel leaving you to your own devices in the luxurious bathroom, you dug through your duffel bag, fingertips searching for the small, black bag you had hidden the bright red lingerie in. Double checking the door was locked, you pulled out the delicate material, rubbing the small roses that adorned the fabric between the pads of your fingers. Stripping down, you carefully tugged the underwear over each leg, your hips swaying side to side until the lace covered your lower half. You gave the string bikini strap a little snap before pulling the matching bra on, clasping it and adjusting the straps before looking in the mirror.
He would be able to see right through the lace, and the thought of his reaction thrilled you.
You slipped into the red dress he picked out and you checked your hair and makeup once more before putting on a pair of heels you hadn't worn in months that you knew would make your calves ache later, but it would be worth it.
Stepping out of the bathroom quietly, you managed to get a glimpse of him before he heard you as he was bent over the dresser, tilting his head slightly to check his hair in the mirror and you thought you'd never seen him look more handsome. He caught your eye in the reflection and smirked before turning around, dragging his gaze up and down your body appreciatively before stepping towards you and enveloping you in his arms.
"You look perfect," he whispered in your ear, his lips nipping at the side of your neck, and if it weren't for the lipstick you had just applied moments ago, you would have left your own bites on his skin.
"Just gotta put on my tie, then we can go," he said, pulling back, but you grabbed his hand.
"I like it better without," you told him, your fingers coming up to fix the collar of his crisp white dress shirt, then falling to undo the top two buttons, your finger nail scraping gently at the newly exposed skin before running your hands down his shoulders and picking off a small piece of lint from his black blazer.
"Yes, ma'am," he said, corner of his mouth turning up into a half smirk.
Before leaving the room, he pulled out his phone and flipped the camera so he could take a selfie, standing behind you with one arm around your waist, his chin nuzzled against your neck, he murmured I love you and once you flashed that real smile of yours, he quickly snapped the picture.
"This place is beautiful," you said, fairly certain you had said it at least three times now, but it was true. The lighting was dim, creating a soft, intimate atmosphere that invited hushed conversations and quick kisses amongst the candlelight.
"Glad you like it," Joel replied, his arm stretching across the white linen tablecloth, fingers tangling with yours next to your empty plates. Your waiter came by silently to scoop up the dirty dishes and refill your wine, but you had hardly noticed. The way the candlelight danced across his face kept you so entranced that you had to force yourself to look away or else you might find yourself sitting on his lap in front of the whole restaurant.
His thumb stroked your knuckles as you glanced around, trying to clear your head. It appeared the whole place was filled with couples just like you: happy and madly in love. You smiled to yourself when you saw an older couple feeding each other tiramisu, your eyes continuing to drift across the room until they stopped on a beautiful woman with warm, brown skin and hair who happened to be staring right at you. When your eyes met hers, she quickly looked away, turning her head back to her date.
"You know why I asked you to wear that dress?"
Joel's voice brought you back to the present. You turned back to him with a smile and shook your head.
"The night you wore that was the night I realized I was in love with you," he said, eyes dropping shyly to the table for a moment before meeting yours again.
"Sarah's recital?" you asked, and he nodded.
"Yep," he said, leaning forward a bit more. "Knew that night I was a goner."
You giggled and he smiled, about to tell you how much he loved your laugh, but you spoke first.
"For me, it was the afternoon I helped you wrap presents," you said, feeling your cheeks warm from both the wine and your admission. Your eyes flicked around the restaurant and found that same woman looking at you again, but this time she didn't look away. It was dark and difficult to see, but you thought she looked familiar.
"Ah, so sad, pathetic men do it for you?" he asked, raising a playful eyebrow, and you laughed.
"Maybe," you said, your eyes drifting over to the woman again, who was now involved in what appeared to be a serious conversation with her date.
"Don't make it obvious, but does that woman in the black dress look familiar to you? I can't place her and she keeps looking over here," you said, tilting your head to the side so he knew what direction to look. He sat back in his chair and let his gaze slowly and casually drag around the room before he stopped on the woman in question.
Joel didn't blink. He forgot how to breathe. His grip on your fingers tightened while his throat began to squeeze shut, unable to look away. It was like he was seeing a ghost, and in a way, he was.
"Joel?" he heard you say, but your voice sounded so far away.
"Uh," he stammered, unable to form any coherent sentence.
"Are you okay? You look pale," you said, sounding concerned, and he finally tore his eyes away so he could look at you.
"That's..." he paused and took a big sip of wine. "That's Sarah's mom."
"What?!" you whispered, eyes wide as you tried your hardest not to look at her again. Now you knew why she looked so familiar: you had seen an old picture of her and Joel on Facebook when you first started dating.
"When was the last time you saw her?"
"I-I don't know," he said, letting go of your hand so he could rub his eyes. "Long time. Years. I had no idea she was even still in the damn state."
"Do you want to go? Maybe we should go," you said, lifting your arm to catch your waiter's attention, but he stopped you.
"No. We ain't leavin'. This is our night, I'm not gonna let her ruin it."
"She can't ruin it," you said, locking eyes with him. Then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw her use her napkin and stand up, heading in your direction.
"Okay, she's coming over here."
"What?" he whispered, seized with panic.
"It's fine. You're fine, Joel," you said firmly. He nodded and swallowed, focusing on your voice to keep him grounded. When she approached your table, you looked up and forced a smile.
"Hi, I'm Char," she said with a smile of her own, reaching out her long, thin arm to shake your hand. Joel stiffened in his chair, his muscles feeling so tight it was starting to hurt.
"Hi," you replied, taking her hand and giving her your name before shifting your nervous smile in Joel's direction.
She looked at Joel as well, giving him an awkward wave and he tried to smile, he really did, but he felt frozen.
"Can we talk?" he thought he heard her ask. He shook his head, absolutely not, but your hand reached out for his and gave him a gentle squeeze, grounding him once again.
"It's okay, go ahead," you told him. His eyes shifted between the two of you, completely at a loss. You gave him a warm smile, a real smile, and nodded encouragingly.
"Five minutes," he said, and he wasn't sure if he was talking to you or his ex, but it didn't matter.
Begrudgingly, he stood, dropping his napkin on his chair and shooting you one more glance before he followed Char out of the dining room and into the more brightly lit hallway that led to the hostess stand and front door. She turned to look at him, mouth opening and closing, struggling to find the right words.
"You look good, Joel," she said. He shoved his hands in his pockets.
"You too."
She chewed her lower lip and glanced around, and Joel could feel his patience already running thin.
"What do you want, Char?" he asked, wanting the question to come off angry but he just ended up sounding tired.
"I wanted to... I don't know. Apologize," she said, dragging her eyes back up to him. "I shouldn't have left you like that. It was wrong."
"Us," Joel corrected her, raising his eyebrows. "You left us."
"Yeah, of course," she said with a nod. "You know what I mean."
Joel bit his tongue and glanced down at his shoes, wishing nothing more than for this conversation to end so he could be with you again and forget this ever happened.
"You seem happy. Your girlfriend is pretty, how long have you been together?"
"Few months," he said, looking back up at Char once again. "I am happy. She makes me happy."
"Good. That's good..." she replied, trailing off and looking down at her hands. Splaying her fingers, she held them up, showing him her ring. "I'm married. That's my husband in there," she said, the word husband getting caught in her throat. "We're, uh... we're expecting," she added, dropping her hand to rest on her stomach. "Just found out a few weeks ago."
"Oh," Joel said, blinking in disbelief. "Congrats."
"Thanks," she said with a small smile. "How's work? How's Tommy?"
"How's-" he scoffed and rubbed his lower lip with his thumb, growing agitated. "How about how's Sarah? Your daughter?"
Char took a deep breath, falling silent.
"She's doin' great, by the way," Joel continued, his jaw clenching. "She's on the honor roll, got a real talent for the violin and she's already lookin' at colleges. She's kind and honest and smart-"
"Okay, Joel, message received," she replied, holding up her hands in defeat. "I'm not allowed to move on, but you are."
"She's your fuckin' kid, Char," Joel bit back. "You don't move on from your kid."
"That's not what I said, stop putting words in my mouth!"
"You didn't need to," he said, glancing down at her stomach briefly. "Do you ever even think 'bout her? On her birthday, does she cross your mind at all? Is your baby gonna know they got a sister?"
Char's eyes filled with tears as she looked away guiltily.
"Y'know, I think I'm done here," he said, his voice suddenly growing calmer. "Thank you," he said, catching her eye. "I'm glad we talked. Cleared up a lot of questions."
He turned away and headed back into the dining room, back to you. Back to the woman who, in only three months, had treated his daughter with more love than her own mother.
You saw him approaching your table and you straightened up in your seat, trying to read his face. He sat down and gave you a smile, then reached his arms across the table to take both your hands.
"Everything okay?" you asked, and he nodded.
"Yeah, everythin's great," he said, staring deep into your eyes, still smiling. You gave him a disbelieving look and he chuckled. "I mean it. That-" he nodded in the direction of the hallway, "nothin' to worry 'bout. Couldn't be happier," he said earnestly.
You examined him closely as a slow smile spread across your face.
"What? I swear," he said, grinning.
"I know," you replied. "Because that's your real smile."
"You sure you don't wanna talk about it?" you asked him as you stepped off the elevator. The two of you had stood your ground and stayed at the restaurant, ordering another bottle of wine and a dessert to share, each of you refusing to bring up the topic of Sarah's mom until now, when the alcohol was making your head swim and your lips loose.
"Mhm, I'm sure," he said, leaning against the doorframe, blinking a few times and trying to focus on opening the door. "Nothin' to say that I already didn't know. Besides," he pushed the door open and looked at you with a smirk, "I ended up with who I was meant to be with."
"Charmer," you teased, feeling your face flush as you walked into the room and flicked the light on. You had barely made it three steps into the room before his hands circled around you from behind, pulling you close against his chest. Dropping your purse on the nightstand, you leaned back into him with a sigh.
"Do you want to open your present now?"
You felt him smile against the back of your neck.
"Yes, please," he mumbled.
Butterflies swirled in your stomach as you stepped away. Turning around, you gave his chest a gentle shove and he instantly obeyed, sitting on the edge of the bed, his legs spread wide, still wearing that black suit that made him look way too good. Your palms dragged up his chest and underneath his blazer, fingers curling around his broad shoulders and down his back so the jacket slid down in a pool around his waist. He watched you, hardly moving an inch, his breath coming quicker the longer he waited, loving and hating the anticipation.
"I really like this suit on you," you murmured, nipping at his earlobe while your hands made their way down. Gripping the fabric of his shirt, you tugged with both hands, pulling the material free from his pants. "But I think you deserve to be a little more comfortable."
He nodded, the wine and his insatiable need for you making him docile and quiet. He watched in a daze, barely blinking, as you turned around and slowly unzipped your dress, glancing once over your shoulder with a playful smirk. A very selfish and cruel thought popped into his clouded mind as he watched you, one his sober mind never would have allowed through. Why couldn't he have had Sarah with you, instead? You're so beautiful and perfect and sweet, you never would have abandoned them. You would have been a great mother. So patient and giving. Then another insane thought occurred to him as your dress began to slide down your body.
You still could be a great mother. And he could make that happen.
His lips parted, the words on the tip of his tongue, but fortunately the logical part of his brain took over: stop, too soon, don't say that, you're drunk.
He swallowed the words down, his mind losing focus on that random, sudden urge and fixating instead on the red, lacy lingerie you had hidden under your dress all evening. He let out a pained whimper when you turned around and he realized he could see right through the material, your perfect breasts and warm slit available for his gaze to devour.
He must have forgotten to speak, although the thoughts in his head were so loud, he could have sworn you'd be able to hear them. You looked at him shyly and shifted your weight from foot to foot.
"Do you like it?"
He dragged his eyes up to your face, his jaw slack and the hardness between his legs becoming incredibly uncomfortable. How could you possibly think he wouldn't like it?
"I love it," he said, voice low and heated. "I love you."
You grinned and stepped forward, standing between his legs, your fingers slowly unbuttoning his dress shirt while his hands roamed up and down the backs of your thighs, still hypnotized by the lingerie you bought just for him. Nobody else got to see this.
His hands drifted up to your hips, calloused palms dragging over the delicate material, his fingers slipping underneath the straps on the sides and giving them a playful snap. He dropped his hands so his shirt could join his blazer, then quickly found your soft skin once again. It was a miracle he remembered to breathe as his hands made their way up your stomach to cup your breasts. He marveled at the way you responded to him: breath hitching in your throat, thighs squeezing together, lower lip pulling between your teeth.
You gave him another gentle shove on the chest, and he fell backwards with a grunt, fingers itching to touch you but you were just out of reach as you began to undo his belt, then the zipper on his pants before tugging them down to his ankles. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on his breathing while you pulled his pants all the way off.
His eyes flew open in surprise when he felt your hot exhale over the fly of his boxers, warming his aching length, making him twitch. When you pulled his waistband down and took him in your perfect mouth, he groaned so loud he had to remind himself there were other people in the hotel. You smirked up at him, watching his jaw tense as he tried not to lose control, and the mere thought of him coming undone like that because of you made your knees weak. You loved that feeling. You recklessly chased that feeling, eager to see more, hear more, feel more to the point where his fingers had got tangled in your hair, gripping and pulling a little rougher than he meant to as he gasped your name.
"Slow down," he whispered, his voice strained. "Baby, please-"
You released him with a pop, watching with fascination and excitement as his sweaty chest rose up and down rapidly, his eyes screwed shut, deeply focused.
"Sorry," you said, your tone implying anything but. He finally opened his eyes to look at you, kneeling on the floor between his legs, hair a mess, lipstick smudged and he had to resist the urge to ask for another picture. "Scoot up," you told him, and he obediently dragged his body backwards so his legs no longer bent over the edge of the mattress. You slowly crawled on top of him, leaving chaste kisses along his thighs, then hips, stomach and chest until you found his lips.
You moaned softly when your clothed heat dragged over his stiff length, your hips taking on a mind of their own as you rocked back and forth slowly, reveling in the sensation. You lifted yourself off of him, your hands reaching down to pull down your underwear when he stopped you.
"Leave it on," he said huskily, then his finger tucked underneath the band as he slowly traced the edge of your panties, his smooth fingernail gliding along your skin until he reached the apex of your thighs. He hooked another finger underneath the soaked fabric and he pulled them to the side, then glanced up at you.
The heat and hunger behind his stare sent a bolt of excitement through you. Unable to hold back any longer, you reached down and notched him at your opening, then slowly sank down, mouth open and brows pinched as your body stretched to accommodate him, then letting out a quiet ah when you were finally fully seated.
"So pretty," he murmured repeatedly, his eyes raking all over your body as you began to roll your hips, somehow only noticing now for the first time the little roses embroidered on the lingerie. His fingers dug into your sides, guiding your movements as he stared down at where you were connected and he thought this is true happiness.
Your hands fell forward onto his chest, pressing down for leverage as you picked up the pace, your eyes squeezing shut and your breath coming in fast little pants. Your arms pushed your breasts together and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to put his mouth on you. He craned his neck upward, his mouth latching over a clothed nipple and you cried out when his teeth grazed against the sensitive nub a little too hard.
The lace felt soft against his tongue but was beginning to irritate the base of his cock as the material tried to shift back into place. He laid flat once again and in a heated moment without thinking, he dipped the index and middle fingers of both hands into your panties and gave them a forceful tug. You gasped and stalled your movements when you looked down and watched him pull the destroyed underwear from between you with a grunt.
"I'll buy you new ones," he said, his hands returning to your hips, urging you to continue. You giggled and picked up where you left off.
"No need, they were yours to do with what you wanted," you said, biting down on your lip when he gave you an animalistic groan.
His hips began to buck up into you, matching you thrust for thrust as you both began to lose yourselves in one another.
"Joel," you whined, trying to warn him, trying to tell him it feels too good, I love you too much, this weekend was too perfect, but all you could manage to do was chant his name. It didn't matter, though, because he knew. He was thinking the same things and he wondered if anyone else in history had ever loved and understood someone the way he does with you. Surely not, because how on earth would anything ever get done if everybody got to experience a love like this?
"Keep goin'," he muttered, his teeth clenching as he felt his stomach tighten. You bounced up and down faster, a thin sheen of sweat coating your chest, making you glow.
"Ohmygod, Joel, I'm close," you rasped, eyes boring into his. He nodded, his fingers gripping your hips so tightly and slamming you down over and over until you gasped then let out a low moan, your legs shaking from the effort of holding yourself up while you rode out your climax.
"Fuck!" he yelled, spilling himself inside you moments later. His hips thrusted upwards, pushing himself as deep as he could until he slowed, then came to a stop with a small whimper.
You collapsed tiredly onto his chest, the lace from your bra rubbing against his skin while his arms wrapped around your middle, holding you close.
"I got you," he mumbled into your hair, both of you panting for breath. After a moment, you pressed slow, languid kisses against his shoulder, trailing up his neck until you found his lips.
"Thank you for my present," he said, his voice low and rumbly in his chest. You giggled and, with shaky legs, pushed yourself off him and rolled to the side, clawing weakly at the sheets that housekeeping tucked in way too tightly until you could slip underneath. He stood up with a groan and disappeared into the bathroom, only to return a minute later with a damp washcloth and two bottles of water.
"Here," he said, holding one out to you. "We drank a lot of wine, you're gonna have a real bad headache if you don't drink some water."
You took it and he pulled the sheets back to clean you up. As you unscrewed the cap and watched him, you couldn't keep the smile from your face.
"Sarah was so lucky to have you, you know," you said, taking a sip of water, and he looked up at you in surprise. "Because you're so caring and patient. You always look out for everyone. You're so understanding and easy going, especially after everything you've gone through. That must have been so hard," you said, furrowing your brow while playing with one of his curls. "And you did such a great job, Joel. You're a really, really good dad."
Joel swallowed the lump in his throat as he continued to look at you, watching you play mindlessly with his hair, having no idea how impactful your words just were and how badly he needed to hear that.
"Thank you," he whispered, and you smiled.
"Let's go to sleep," you said, yawning through the last word, but he insisted you drink the rest of your water before he turned out the lights and snuck into bed behind you, pulling you close.
Even though you weren't Sarah's mom, you were in their lives now, and that's all that mattered.
"Hey, wake up," Joel was saying in your ear. You frowned, then winced as the inevitable hangover set in in the form of a monster headache.
"Ouch," you whispered, your throat gravelly with sleep. He chuckled and nudged a cold water bottle against your arm, making you shudder.
"Here, this'll help. I got some ibuprofen on your nightstand and breakfast is on the way up."
Cracking an eye open, you forced yourself to slowly sit up against the headboard and looked around the room. Your clothes were still scattered over the floor but it appeared Joel had tried to at least move them out of the way a bit. He was sitting next to you, still shirtless, hair a mess and looking a little under the weather himself, but when you asked if his head hurt, he denied it.
"What time is it?" you mumbled, searching around for your phone before you realized you had left it in your purse, which was next to the medicine you had yet to take.
"Ten," he said, tapping your arm to draw your focus off your purse and back onto him. "Move in with me."
"What?" you sputtered in shock.
"Move in with me," he repeated, a smile stretching across his face. "I want you to live with me and Sarah."
"B-but Joel, I just signed a lease to an apartment like, a month ago," you stammered, looking back down at your purse and fishing out your phone.
"How long's the lease?"
"Six months," you said, plugging your phone into the charger before turning back to him.
"Okay, so five more months?" he asked, and you nodded slowly. "Then you'll move in with us?"
"W-what- where is this coming from? We talked about this on New Years-"
"Yeah, I know, but I woke up today and looked over at you and realized I wanna be able to wake up next to you every day, not just sometimes," he said, scooting closer across the bed so he could hold your hand.
You thought about it for a moment, completely taken aback and your head still pounding. When you opened your mouth to answer, a knock at the door interrupted you.
"That's breakfast, hang on," he said, holding up one finger to you as he shrugged on a robe and greeted the waiter. You swallowed the two pills he left for you and chugged the water as you thought about your answer in the brief minute you had alone.
"So?" he urged when he came back into the bedroom carrying a tray of food and coffee. He seemed to anticipate your hangover because it was mostly toast and jams with some scrambled eggs for protein and a little bit of fruit.
"Did you talk about it with Sarah first?"
He stopped what he was doing and looked at you, his gaze softening for a quick moment before reaching out to cradle your face in his hands. He pressed a gentle kiss against your lips, trying to express how much it meant to him that you thought of Sarah so often before he pulled away.
"Not yet, but I got a feelin' she'll love it," he said with a grin before he handed you a plate with some toast. "She wanted you to move in when we were in New York, remember?"
"Yeah, but you should still talk to her about it," you insisted, taking a tentative bite of toast.
"I will," he promised, watching you eat slowly for a moment. "So, is that a yes?"
You felt your heart flutter as you nodded your head, giggling when he excitedly lunged forward for another kiss.
Once your hangover wore off, the two of you explored the city for a few hours, then made sure to check out the hot tub in the hotel like Joel had wanted before heading home, all the while the two of you wearing matching smiles plastered across your faces.
Your real smiles.
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Overworked, underloved !
scenario: how the vroom vroom men would react to you being overworked because of exams season !
warning:
pai’s words: good luck to everyone taking exams 🫶 been there done that, I know just how stressful it can be !! don’t forget to take care of yourself and drink plenty
LANDO🍊
- wouldn’t really notice at first, putting your quietness on the gloomy weather
- wakes up in the middle of the night and reaches for you but only finds emptiness and cold sheets
- grumbles as he waits for you to come back to bed and cuddle with him
- when you’re not there ten minutes later he finally gets up and goes to look for you, not without complaining
- finds you stressing in front of your computer with a cup of coffee and loud music in your ears
- convinces you to go back to bed after long minutes of nagging you, promising that you’re more than ready for your exam tomorrow, or well, in a few hours
- wakes up before you go make breakfast and pack you some snacks, driving you to uni and peppering your face with kisses before letting you go
OSCAR🍊
- knows about exams season because he saw your tweets complaining about it
- lets you study but makes sure you eat, drink and sleep enough
- when you’re on the living room’s floor, surrounded by sheets, he sits behind you and cards his fingers through your hair as you lean your back against his chest
- convinces you to join his gaming session on the tv to get your mind off and teases you when you lose, ordering takeout and making sure you’re fully relaxed as you go to sleep
LANCE🍊
- learns about your state when one of your best friends texts him to ask him to come to the library and take you home
- jumps in his car and drives to where you’re having a study date, stopping to your favorite cafe on the way
- immediately understands why your friends wanted him to come when he spots you crying in front of your laptop, babbling quietly to your friends surrounding you
- walks towards you and closes your laptop, softly convincing you to come home with him, putting your favorite drink in your hand before profusely thanking your friends and wishing them good luck with their studying
- listens as you ramble about your failed test last semester and how you have another one coming up in two days on the same subject, convinced you’re going to fail it too
- once you’re home he tells you to change into comfortable clothes and helps you study with some snacks and drinks
FERNANDO🍊
- stares at you when you tell him you don’t have time to eat because you’re already late in your study session
- refuses any objections and puts a plate in front of you, plopping next to you to eat his own
- asks you about what you’re doing, listening closely even when he doesn’t understand much, encouraging you to keep explaining as he knows it’s helping you study at the same time
- leaves you your space but comes from time to time to check on you, leaving with a sweet kiss on your forehead
- teases you about being the intelligent one in your relationship, making jokes about your studies and what it’s about to lighten your mood
CARLOS🍊
- searches internet for tips about studying and how he can help you
- makes sure to tell you that no matter the results, it doesn’t define you or your intelligence
- pinches your nose and playfully scolds you when he hears you belittling yourself, not letting go until you admit defeat and repeat you’re good enough
- gets you to go on an early morning run to clear your head before your exams, buying you breakfast as a reward
CHARLES🍊
- usually wakes up first, so is surprised when he can’t find you in bed
- finds you stress baking in the kitchen and wraps himself around you from behind, murmuring sweet nothings in your ear
- tells you to eat breakfast before even thinking about studying and tries his hardest to make breakfast last long, pouting when you clean your plate and go to your desk
- is streaming with the quartet when you come barging in the room, crying and rambling about not understanding your subject and not even knowing why you’re in uni because you’re too dumb to be
- the next day, the internet is filled with his sweet words and your hug, his friends cheering on you from the headset, all captured by his camera
#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fluff#f1#f1 headcanons#lando norris fluff#lando norris x reader#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri x reader#lance stroll fluff#lance stroll x reader#fernando alonso fluff#fernando alonso x reader#carlos sainz fluff#carlos sainz x reader#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x reader
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💌
hi childreennn mother had to jot this down while my brain was still going from earlier plz enjoy more supervisor!simon
Wednesday strolled in with ease. You and Simon avoided each other all day on tuesday. You knew you were really pissed when you thought of sending an anonymous complaint to HR.
It was lunchtime and you sat at your desk headphones in watching your comfort tv show and eating your lunch. Simon walked out of his with a thick stack of papers. He walked up to your desk, dropped the papers harshly, “Get these done when you’re finished.” he demanded. You looked up with a mouthful of food, “I’m on my break.” you snap back at him. “There’ll be no break after this ever, if these aren’t half finished by the end of the day.” he barked back only to earn looks from the others (we live in a sassy man apocalypse I fear😣.) You roll your eyes, “And if I see your headphones again, that’s another strike.” he finishes.
It all seemed like too much to behave this way for an office job. You were ready to flip your desk, kick a monitor and slap him in the back of the head. All of the sudden he just became this douche. Not once have you ever given him any problems, have you ever screwed up.
A part of you wanted to ask him what the problem was, so you threw your plate away and went to the bathroom and facetime your best friend.
“Please tell me you sent in a complaint.” Your bestie sighed over the phone. “No I'm scared, online it said your identity might have to be revealed.” You said as you watched your bestfriends face screw up, “Just put in your two weeks, we’re hiring over here,” she suggested , “I’ll see if I can get you a spot, my manager’s really cool.” She gives you a smile. You look at the time and see you have 5 minutes left to chat before you have to get back to work. “I gotta go, but let me know what your manager says.” you bite your cheek, “will do !” she says before hanging up. You let out an exasperated sigh and go back to your desk.
-
On Thursday you worked the front alone, you were kind of glad because you were out of Simon's sight and you didn’t have to see the problem look so damn good in slacks. You sat and answered calls while listening to some music. It was a pretty peaceful day, not too many people came in so you kind of just sat and waited, you did some crossword puzzles, played some games on your computer, ignoring the get back to work email from Simon. It was lunch time when you and Simon interacted for the first time in a couple of days. You were getting ready to walk to the grocery store in the plaza you worked at (do they have these outside of America? Like shopping malls, or like strip malls?? Plz let me know.).
“Heading out?” he asked, leaning against the wall near the exit. You rolled your eyes, praying he didn’t notice. “I got to go to the market also, maybe I can keep you company?” he offered.
“I don’t care.” you mumbled, obviously very bothered by his presence. You grabbed your bag, and headed towards the door, Simon following behind you closely. “What’re you gonna buy?” he asked, “food.” he let out a sigh, “food’s always good.” he said, swinging his arms back and forth.
Simon felt like a kid who disappointed his mother, he doesn’t know what he did, but it was something that made her angry. In this case, he knew you were angry but you couldn’t still be angry from Monday's quarrel.
-
When you entered the market you made sure to separate yourself from Simon, you head to the little deli in the back, and got a turkey sandwich (I love turkey sandwiches if anyone cares.)
Somehow Simon ended up finding you, you two stood next to each other silently watching the elder man thinly slice the meat and place it on the bun. “Looks delicious.” he says, and you say nothing. You prance around the store finding some snacks for your desk, picking up a snickers bar for Linda cause those are her favorites. Simon followed you around like a lost puppy , paying for his stuff after you. You walked out before him and sat at the exact table you sat at when he decided he wanted to be a dick for the first time.
Simon walked out of the store and found you sitting alone, eating alone, watching people walk around the shopping mall. “Lost ya.” he smiled, his one dimple showing. You looked at him with a blank face. Simon pursed his lips and sat and ate his lunch quickly.
“Saw you looking for jobs online.” he broke the silence. “Yup.” you hum, “You’re thinking of quitting?” Simon inquired. “I’m looking at jobs so?” you drawled out earning wide eyes from simon. “You know I can fire you for that.” he takes a sip from his water bottle, “you’d fire a wild bear for shitting in the woods if it worked for you.” You scoffed, in return Simon let out a cackle, and you almost smiled at his natural laugh. “I think I've found a job though. So I'll be out of your hair in no time” Simon smile drops, “who said I wanted you out of my hair?” his brows furrow.
You smack your lips together, “let’s not be obtuse.” you sigh.
“You want to quit because of me?” he asked, “If I say yeah, are you gonna speed up the process?” you ribbed. “You really want to quit because of me?” Simon was in disbelief, he seriously couldn’t believe it. Was he too harsh? But that’s how you two were, you’d taunt each other. At least that’s what he thought. “I’m going back.” you say while getting up and throwing your trash.
Simon sat by himself, “let’s not be obtuse.” kept replaying and replaying. Was it the headphone thing, it was just some dumb gag he did for fun. You even joked about it one time, you said you’d shove an air-pod up his nose. Was it the emails? Simon likes your attention, whether it be good or bad. He likes you, the way you look in your work outfits, he’s a grown man, he can appreciate when someone is good looking. Now he was really starting to tweak out.
Simon practically sprinted back to the office, you sat at one of the front desks, you looked up at him in the doorway. “Are you really quitting?” your eyes widen, “Simon hush!” you sputtered.
“Was it something I did,” he asks as he walks towards the desk, “Answer me truthfully.” he demands. “Oh jesus.” you put your head in your hands out of embarrassment. Simon's eyes are on you, you can feel them while you try and bury your head deeper into your palms. “I know you were pissed on monday-” he continues, “Simon leave it alone for fucks sake.” huffing you finally look at him. He nods and walks back into his office, shutting the door avoiding work all day, with you on his mind how could he not?
-
It’s Friday, you’re scheduled to be back at your desk. You walk into the office earlier as always, listening to your music, you notice Simon was sitting on your desk. Confused, you approach him and tap him on his shoulder, “Your ass is on my desk.” Simon hops off quickly, “Sorry.” you eye him suspiciously.
“I want to talk to you about yesterday.” you groan, “Simon leave it please. That’s all I ask.” you make praying hands pleading, “yesterday you said-”
“UGH Simon please.” you groan even louder than earlier, “you said “If you say yes would I make the process faster” so I am the reason you’re quitting?” you look at him with the most confused face ever. “Are you okay? Genuinely?”
“Are you quitting because of me?” Simon prodded, “I have to heat up my breakfast.” Soon as you went to walk to the break room, Simon grabbed your wrist softly, his brown eyes looking into yours,
“Answer me, is it my fault?”
(well, yes!)
#Supervisor!simon#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost x reader#simon riley cod#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost simon riley#cod mw2#task force 141#ghost call of duty#ghost cod#ghost headcanons#ghost fanfiction#simon my beloved#ghost mw2#ghost x reader
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Simon as a father
Simon wasn't exactly excited about having children but once he held his first born in his arms, his mindset changed.
Simon loves his little girl. He loves spoiling her, she's his little princess.
She's got his beautiful brown eyes and blonde hair.
"Daddy? Can I have puppy?"
"Yes my princess"
"Daddy, I want pizza but mommy said no"
"It's okay princess. Let's get you pizza but don't tell your mother"
He will break all the rules just to see her happy.
Simon would come home, exhausted, both mentally and physically. He is prepared to drink himself drunk and pass out on a random spot but once he hears little footsteps running to him, a smile appears on his face under his mask.
"Daddy! You're home!"
"There's my little angel"
Simon is very protective of his little girl, his always holding her and walking around with her in his arms.
He let's her wear his mask and he'd watch with a smile on his face as she tries to scare him.
"Boo!"
"You scared me, my little Ghost"
He would sit and listen to her ramble on about something completely random whether it's that wierd boy from school or something she saw on TV. He would sit still and listen, she had his full attention.
"But it very creepy. All he does is eat glue and cry whole day. That's so baby-ish of him"
"I agree"
"And this one girl brags about her dog all day..."
With every chance he gets, he spends it with her. He plays with her, brushes her hair.
He even joins her when she had a tea party with her stuffed animals. He let's her paint his nails pink or any color she decides, he just covers it up with his gloves.
He let's her play with his hair.
"Daddy. I want to play with your hair"
He immediately lays down and let's her do whatever she wants.
She makes him watch Barbie with her until they both fall asleep on the couch.
One day, Simon had a rough day at work and wasn't in a good mood. Price was on his head about paperwork and Soap was annoying him as always. He needed a pen and went to his bag to grab another when he got there, he spotted a mysterious picture in his bag and pulled it out, it was a drawing of him with a cape with the words scribbled across the page "Daddy. My hero"
Simon framed the picture and keeps it on his desk and stares at it everyday.
He reads her stories and watches her slowly fall asleep, he stays for a while and watches her cling to him like he was a teddy bear.
He places a gentle kiss on her forehead before quietly leaving her room and goes to bed.
He holds you in his arms and whines about how his princess is growing up too quickly.
It wasn't long afterwards that baby #2 came along and he was overjoyed and stuck to your side.
"No standing"
"I'll do it for you, you sit down and rest"
"What is my baby craving today?"
Simon makes sure you and the baby are safe before he leaves or does anything.
Simon definitely loves his girls but if he should have a boy, he would definitely name him Johnny, after his fallen friend and teammate.
Simon's poor phone is always full because of all the pictures and videos in his gallery that he took of his children.
#ghost x reader#call of duty modern warfare 2#cod men x reader#simon riley x reader#Simon Ghost Riley x reader#Father headcanons#Parenting
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pretty, pretty girl.
leon kennedy is your older brother's best friend, you're freshly eighteen.
nsfw, p-v, virgin reader, slightly older leon. please wrap it before you tap it.
Your birthday was highly anticipated. Finally legal, so many opportunities that have opened up to you. Your parents had showered you with gifts all day, leading up to your party tonight.
"Happy birthday sis, here's a little something from me."
Your brother smiles, handing you a medium wrapped box. You smile, tearing the package as he leans up against the wall to watch you.
"Oh my god- Danny you seriously didn't.."
You were met with a signed slipknot shirt, all of the current members had signed it...
"i jumped through hoops for that so you better love it."
Your brother laughs as you engulf him in a huge hug.
"Thank you so much, seriously this is amazing."
"Don't sweat it kid, you made it to the border of adulthood."
You smile, admiring the shirt and thanking your brother again. making your way upstairs, you glance over your notifications of all of your friends wishing you happy birthday.
You place the shirt on your desk, admiring it fully before hearing your parents call you downstairs.
"coming!"
The stairs are stiff as you run down them, finding your parents in the kitchen.
"Hey birthday girl! your party is going to start soon, we wanted to know if you had a time for the family to leave and it just be us and your friends?"
You nod.
"Can it be around 8? I think that will be enough time for grandma and grandpa since the party starts at three."
"Sounds great. well help round them up around eight then."
Your mom smiles as your dad opens his phone, presumably to let the family that was coming know. you had a bunch of your friends coming over to spend the night for your birthday.
---
Your family all came pouring into your living room, holding gifts as you and your parents greeted them. Soon after your friends were doing the same.
The party was fun, but oddly overstimulating. There are so many people in your house which wasn't common at all. When it came time for cake, everyone gathered around as you stared at the Sicilian cheesecake with a candle sat in front of you. The tension was high in your brain as everyone serenades you for your occasion.
The candles flicker out as you blew them out, the sounds of cheers as you did so. A good amount of "you made it!" and "you're getting so grown" were thrown towards you as everyone cut their slice out. You smiled at everyone, enjoying your cake.
Presents were the most exciting yet nervous time of the night. Lots of money made its way into your hands, your friends gifting you lots of casually sexual things which you would laugh with them about later.
"Thank you all so much, seriously. I am so grateful."
Your smile seals your sentiment as your family all gather around to take a picture with you. a momentum for the scrapbook, you finally being legal.
"Alright, it's getting late you all."
Your mother pipes in, silently hinting for everyone to roll out so you could spend just one on one time with your friends. Everyone wishes you one last time as they roll out slowly, some help pick up and take some food from dinner home.
Your mother sighs as she shuts the door, turning back to you and your friends.
"Alright girls. we'll leave you alone now, don't go too crazy."
Both of your parents head upstairs, leaving you with your friends.
"So what now hm?"
Jess pipes in, giggling with everyone else.
"I honestly don't know. my family was kind of exhausting."
You say, rubbing your eyes as you turn the tv on.
"Do you guys want to watch a movie?"
"Let's just listen to music, you'll pass out if you watch a movie."
Madi says laughing, grabbing the remote and putting on a party playlist.
"Yeah come on, it's your birthday let's make the day last!"
You laugh, shaking your head as they make you stand up, encouraging you to dance with them.
"You guys are insane, fine."
You dance with them, letting yourself enjoy it as they turn the lights off. The TV being the only illumination as you danced more with them. Madi grabs your sides, giggling as she dances up against you. You all laughing as Jess takes pictures, both of you posing stupidly as the music plays louder.
"Hey! turn that down. mom and dad are asleep."
Your brother says from the bottom of the stairs, laughing at all of you.
"Sorry Danny, guess we just got a bit carried away."
Your friends laugh and hum in agreement.
"Well, either way I had to get something from downstairs and it was way too loud coming out of my bedroom."
You laugh, watching your brother head towards the front door, assuming he's getting something from his car.
Unfortunately, you were wrong. he opened the door and you were met with his best friend holding a present. The man was wearing a leather jacket, his hair slightly damp as it was pouring rain outside.
"Am i late to the party?"
You freeze, your friends being confused. He smirks as he with one arm goes in for a hug and pat on the back with your brother.
"Sorry, i totally forgot to tell you Leon was coming over sis."
You shakily laugh as you regain your composure.
"No it's fine, and no you aren't late at all."
Leon walks up to you, handing you the gift.
"Good, this is for you kiddo."
"You seriously didn't have to Leon."
You admire the packaging, its decorated with black sleek wrapping paper, a red bow decorating the top.
"C'mon, open it."
Your friends sit up, looking at you as you awkwardly look down at it. Your hands slowly unwrap the present, treating it as if it was a bomb in your hands.
Inside the box was a bomber jacket, black with gold embroidery on the back that made into a moth.
"Holy shit Leon. where the fuck did you get this?"
He laughs, happy with your reaction. You smile wide as you throw it on, it fits exactly how you wanted it to.
"Looks perfect on you."
A blush creeps over your face as you surge forward, hugging Leon tightly. he's caught off guard, slowly hugging you back.
"She doesn't even hug me, and my gift was better!"
Your brother says, laughing in shock. Leon looks over at him, laughing lightly as you break the hug.
"The slipknot shirt was just as good Danny, I just don't want to touch you. you reek of old spice and Leon doesn't."
You and your friends laugh, Leon trying not to join as your brother's face looks jokingly offended.
"Okay, you're lucky it's your birthday or I seriously would have went there."
He points at you menacingly as you laugh.
"Alright, i'm going to hang out with Danny now."
He ruffles your hair.
"Happy birthday again."
Leon smiles as he heads upstairs with your brother.
"Dude your brother's friend is hot."
Jess whispers, you glaring her down.
"I fucking know. and he's always been hot..." you sigh, Madi and Jess looking at eachother in glances.
"so what's stopping you now?"
Madi asks, searching for your answer. The idea was in your mind, especially with the way he hugged you back. He was always someone you crushed on, ever since Leon and Danny started being friends. that was five years ago, but you never let it really control you. He always seemed like someone out of reach even if you tried. for god's sake he's 23, and you're freshly 18.
"Uhh..."
You look down, shyly shuffling your feet.
"Because he's way older you guys. he's 23 just like Danny."
Madi laughs, "and?"
You scoff.
"That's a bit of difference.... i don't know you guys."
Your friends look at you like you said something outlandishly stupid.
"Dude... even if he doesn't seem interested i would try and go for it."
"You guys are being bad influences cmon.."
"Bad influences?? with the way that man looks? no we definitely aren't."
You sigh, sitting down in between them.
"Dude, just go upstairs and find a lame excuse to be in Danny's room."
It wasn't a bad idea, there were several things you could go into his room for. Asking if he had an empty laundry basket, keys to his car because you left something in his car, etc...
"Okay well let's go to my room and think about this more."
Madi claps excitedly, "yes let's make tonight us helping you out as wingwomen." Jess smiles and nods, all of you heading upstairs to your room. which uncomfortably was next to Danny's. Footsteps were soft as everyone heads into your room. Madi plopping onto your bed as Jess sits in the chair for your desk. You close the door and look back at them, who both share the biggest shit eating grin.
"Guys come on... don't look at me like that."
"Okay, so what if you go in there and ask if Danny can heat up some of the food from dinner.”
You deadpan Jess.
“What.. i’m hungry it’s not like you’re lying.”
Sighing, you nod and make your way out of the room. Stopping at the closed door to your brother’s room. You could hear them laughing, playing some sort of video game. You suck in deeply and open the door, being met with Leon sprawled out on the bed watching your brother play some game. They both turn towards you, and notice Leon wearing a black tee that fit him extremely well.
“Danny can you heat up some of the food for my friends and we’re hungry again.”
He looks annoyed as he shakes his head.
“Can’t you do it yourself? It’s literally so simple.”
“Yeah but it’s my birthday and i won’t put that on my friends.”
Danny gets up, visibly annoyed and loudly sighs.
“Fine.”
Leon laughs, watching Danny leave the room.
“He was in the middle of a match, but good job making him get up.”
You nervously lean up against the doorway, smiling at Leon.
“You should see him when you’re not around.”
Leon props himself onto his elbows, making direct eye contact with you.
“Oh believe me, i’ve known him so long i hear about it every single time now.”
You scoff, jokingly holding your chest.
“Wow. what a brother.”
You admire Leon as he laughs, his legs spread apart and his sweatpants fit exactly how you want them to.
“Cmon, you know Danny. How surprised can you be.”
You giggle back, nodding in agreement.
“I guess you’re right.”
You bite your lip gently, focusing on the floor for a second before deciding to be bold.
“So Danny told me you’ve been enjoying your federal job? How is that going?”
He sits up more, now on the edge of the bed. His elbows propped on his knees as he looks up at you.
“It’s alright. I make the money i want to, and i’d like to say i’m pretty good at what I do.”
You gently nod, shifting against the doorway.
“You don’t come around as often because of it.. I noticed that. Danny did too.”
He smiles, looking at his hand.
“You pay attention to that?”
His tone gets flirty, and a little stern. It catches you off guard.
“Well…. Don’t say it like that..”
He stands up, getting closer as you start to internally panic.
“Oh i know it’s exactly like that.”
He leans closer, his hand running underneath your chin forcing you to make eye contact with him. You couldn’t feel air in your lungs as you stare into his gaze, him smirking slightly as he towers over you.
“I’m going to check on Danny, we can talk about this later birthday girl.”
Leon chuckles, walking past you and going downstairs. You couldn’t feel your face as you try and calm your breath. What the fuck?
You walk into your room, being met with two faces of anticipation.
“Well?”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Danny has food ready downstairs, let's go.”
You turn around, walking down the stairs as your friends lightly tap your shoulder unspokenly asking what happened.
You avoid eye contact as Danny hands you a plate of food, sitting on the couch. Your friends thanking Danny. You focus on your food until Leon sits near you on the couch. They had made themselves a plate as well, but the silence was killing everyone. Your phone buzzes underneath your leg.
Jess: dude WHAT happened…… it’s so awkward? Did it go badly?
You look up, glaring Jess down from your end of the couch.
“I think i’m just going to eat in my room, you coming le?”
Danny asks, waiting for Leon.
“Nah, i’ll finish then come up.”
“Yeah we might do the same Danny.”
Your friends follow Danny upstairs with their plates, leaving you and Leon alone. Fuck. your phone vibrates again.
Madi: this is for your own good
You sigh, throwing your phone down and trying to just focus on your food.
“Your friends know what they’re doing, huh?”
Leon laughs, standing up and putting his plate in the dishwasher. He makes his way over to you, grabbing your empty plate and doing the same. You try to get up and make a run for upstairs but Leon stops you before you can even think about it.
“You’re so pretty when you’re nervous….. I love it.”
He holds eye contact with you, and all you can do is lightly gulp unsure of how to react.
“L-Leon what are you doing”
He grabs your wrist, standing up and forcing your chest against his.
“Don’t play fucking dumb.”
You try to free his grip, but he already was so much stronger than you. His free hand comes to run through your hair, tucking it behind your ear.
“Pretty, pretty girl.”
His hand comes underneath your chin again, bringing it to his face as he lays a gentle kiss to yours. You catch yourself kissing back, his hand slowly letting go of your wrist. You could feel your heart rate going through the roof, his hand catching your lower back.
“Leon…”
“Your brother is going to notice me being gone for so long.”
He smirks, letting go of you and heading upstairs. Again, what the fuck?
You stand there for a moment, realizing that this was the second time he had left you in that position now. Why was he treating you this way? He was just calling you kiddo earlier. My god. You grab your phone, heading upstairs and finding your friends.
“Seriously guys. That was fucked up.”
More confused looks.
“What even happened?”
You sigh, throwing yourself onto your bed. As you speak, you zone out at the ceiling.
“He kissed me, then just left.”
They both jump up, trying to not squeal since he was literally in the room next to theirs.
“Dude… you’re in!!!”
“I don’t even know… he just left me so fucking confused.”
“Oh shut up. Do you think he’ll take your virginity?? Oh my god. Jess, we need to sleep in the guest room.”
Madi exclaims to Jess, causing you to roll over and scream into your pillow.
“Guys! Stopppp.”
You try not to smile, but you definitely weren’t good at it. You were just okay with kissing him, but losing your virginity? That was a dream come true.
“You know what… It is getting late.”
Jess smugly smiles at Madi, who nods in agreement.
“Yeah. it is.. Guess we will have to sleep in the guest bedroom now.”
They both get up, starting to grab their things. You can’t even stop them as by the time you could even argue they were out of your room.
“Oh my god. They just fucking bailed on me. This is not fair.”
You get up, sighing as you turn your light off. You could hear Danny lightly snoring as you laid down in bed. You open your phone up, texting Jess and Madi that they were dicks but that you loved them at the same time. You scroll on social media, before getting up to use the bathroom.
The hallway was dark, and you stumble around until you open the bathroom door. After finishing your business you wash your hands, admiring yourself in the mirror before drying your hands and heading back to your bedroom.
As soon as you close your door, you turn around to find Leon sitting on your bed.
“Your friends ditched you.”
He spoke in a whisper, but you could still hear how smug he was about it.
“What are you doing in here-”
Leon pulls you towards him, you stare down at him. The only thing illuminating the both of you was your lamp on your desk.
“Finishing what I started, that’s all.”
“And what is that, Leon?”
He trails his hands up and down your sides, his hands slightly underneath the bottom of your shirt.
“So beautiful.”
He breathes out, his hands trailing farther up your shirt. You put your hands on his chest, subtly stopping him.
“Leon, if you’re fucking with me. It’s obviously working. Is this some dare Danny made you do? Because that is low.”
He pulls you into his lap, causing you to gasp in surprise as he holds your back.
“Danny would kill me if he caught us like this, so no.”
He smiles, watching your face determine and realize what’s happening. He cups your face with his other hand, kissing you again. Leon’s hand on your back lowers, cupping your ass. You moan into the kiss which encourages Leon even more. He grabs your ass, his hips pressing into you. The kiss deepens, and you can feel his boner underneath you.
“Fuck.”
He breathes out, admiring your face as you stare right back at him. You catch yourself sitting up, straddling him better. His hands meet your hips encouraging you to keep doing what you were doing. You lean down, kissing Leon harder as his hips press up slightly from the contact.
You run your fingers through his hair, then cupping the side of his face. Leon is an amazing kisser, he really knows how to take the lead. His tongue moved perfectly against yours, biting on his lower lip caused him to grip your hips harder.
“Let me take care of you…. It’s your birthday.”
Before you can respond, he flips you onto your back. He leans over you, kissing slowly down your neck as he bites and licks small hickeys onto it. You whine which causes him to slowly grind into you. You can feel yourself getting wetter at the attention. His hand comes up, cupping your boob as he kisses more into your neck.
“Leon please..”
He perks up, a smirk on his face.
“Please what, princess?”
You blush, feeling yourself heat up as your core throbs at the pet name. He looks down at your shirt.
“Let’s take this off. Is that what you want?”
You nod shyly, letting Leon help you out of your shirt. His breath hitches at your lace bra, obviously not expecting that. He leans in and kisses you harder, excited over the new exposure of skin.
“So beautiful baby… going to make you feel so good I promise..”
Leon breathes out, kissing your neck again and trailing down to your boobs. You grab his hair, lightly moaning as he leaves darker hickeys on your tits. You grab at the bottom of his shirt, silently asking for him to take his off as well.
“Yeah? Alright baby….”
He leans up, taking his shirt off. His body was insane… You knew he went to the gym but he was built. You catch yourself staring before Leon leans down again. You feel along his back as he kisses you, his hips starting to grind against you again. You whimper into his lips, causing him to smirk into the kisses. Leon’s hand trails down to the waistband of your pants.
“Do you want this?”
You blush at the question, starting to slightly tremble at the excitement.
“Yes Leon..”
“Ill be gentle, just for you baby.”
He smiles, sitting up to pull your pants off. His breath hitches as he realizes your panties match your bra, causing his dick to jump a little. He tosses your pants onto the floor, laying further down, spreading your legs. You can’t stop trembling as you watch him. His broad shoulders hold your legs as his arms hold your thighs. He looks up at you, smiling. He taps your thigh with his finger, silently saying it’s okay. You calm down, giving Leon the leeway to start.
His hand trails over your clit, admiring the underwear. He slowly pulls it to the side, admiring how beautiful you are.
“Oh my god..”
You feel Leon sigh onto your pussy, the bed slightly moving from Leon grinding into the mattress. He gently feels your entrance, admiring the slick you’ve produced. He licks his fingers, slightly whining at the taste.
“Mmnmmm. Are you ready?”
You nod, still nervous. He slowly peppers kisses around your thighs, finally latching onto your clit. You whine, trying to be quiet. He smiles against you, licking up and down. He enjoyed the taste, letting his finger tease your entrance as he focused on your clit with his tongue. You arch your back and press yourself against his face. He loves all of it. The way you already are breaking out into a sweat because of him.
“L’Leon..”
You grab his hair slightly, causing his pace to speed up. His fingers slowly dipping into you more. You can already feel your orgasm building up. His smirk is imprinted into your clit as he eats you out. You feel your legs spread farther, but Leon stops that very quickly. Leon’s fingers quicken alongside his tongue, your orgasm almost there.
“Leon please… im going to …. Please fuck fuck fuck..”
“Come on babygirl… let me taste it.”
That sends you over the edge, you can feel him moan into your pussy as you clench around his fingers. Your grip on his hair not helping. You try and catch your breath, Leon pulling his fingers out and his tongue laps up your cum.
“So good…. You did so good princess.”
You cover your face in embarrassment, which isn’t for long as Leon pulls your hands out of your face to kiss you. You can taste yourself on his tongue, him moaning into the kiss. You trail your hand down to feel his hard on. Which causes him to moan into the kiss more.
“Please Leon….. Fuck me.”
He smiles, petting your hair again. He nods, taking his sweats off leaving him in his boxers. You pull him into you, feeling his boner against your core. He takes you in for a kiss again, grinding into you fully this time. You’re shaking with anticipation again, moaning at the friction. Leon tugs at your underwear, slowly pulling them off for you.
He then motions you to sit up, helping you pull your bra off. His eyes latch onto your bare tits, admiring how perfect they were. You lay back again, watching as Leon pulls his boxers down. His dick springs free, precum leaking. He was huge. You internally panicked, and he picked up on that.
“It’s okay, we can go slow unless you want to stop.”
“No. it’s okay, it’s just my first time.”
His dick twitches at that, causing Leon to smile.
“Is it? I'm going to set a high expectation then.”
You blush, trying to look away. He grabs your face, kissing you as you feel his tip brush against your entrance. You grind into him, both of you moaning at the contact.
“If you keep doing that i will fuck the shit out of you baby.”
You apologize, which causes Leon to laugh.
“So cute.”
He sits up, pushing your thighs to your chest. He grabs his dick, gathering your slick onto his dick. He quietly groans at the sensation. He lines himself up and looks at you again.
“Ready?”
You shyly nod. He pushes in slowly, letting you adjust to him. You well up with tears, trying not to cry. You feel how much he stretches you, glad he prepped you beforehand.
“Shhh.. shhh. It’s okay. You can take it. Fuck you’re so tight”
Leon wipes your tears away, giving you gentle kisses as he pushes more and more into you.
“Doing so good for me baby…. Look at you. Take me so well, especially for your first time.”
He kisses your neck, almost bottoming out now. You feel yourself wince as he does, glad it finally was over. Leon kisses you again, trying to help ease you. It works, it really helps you relax, his hand running through your hair. You start to clench around Leon, feeling yourself at ease.
“Fuck….. So tight… I don't think I'll last..”
Leon sighs into your skin, slowly pulling out. The feeling making you whimper as he pulls almost all the way out before slowly pushing back in. This causes a low moan from Leon and a whimper from you.
“Oh my god.”
He bites your neck to prevent himself from moaning loudly as he repeatedly slowly pulls out and pushes in. Both of you in pure bliss as he does so.
“Are you doing okay princess?”
You nod, feeling yourself moan as he holds your thighs to your chest, starting to pick up his speed.
“God i’m trying so hard to be gentle but you feel so fucking amazing.”
“You can go faster I- i can take it.”
You grab at his back, then your other hand holding the nape of his neck as he picks up his speed.
“So fucking beautiful… look at you. This pussy is perfect.”
He leans down, sucking your nipple and pinching the other. The sound of his thrusts starts to get louder. Leon didn’t care, he was way too busy with how amazing you were to care about anyone else in the house. You can feel yourself tighten as he goes harder. He sits up, his hands digging into your thighs as he starts to go as fast as he can into you. You’re moaning as quietly as you can now but he’s practically hitting your cervix with how hard and fast he was going.
Leon’s face scrunches, enjoying the way you feel around him. You can feel your orgasm building up which causes you to whine. Leon whimpers as he feels you pulse around him.
“Baby i’m about to cum inside of you if you keep doing that.”
Your back arches.
“Please cum in me Leon please..”
You feel him speed up even more.
“Yeah? Going to fuck myself into you… fill this pussy up.. Make you mine. You are mine. After this. Going to cum inside my princess’s pussy real hard for her.”
You can feel how he’s about to, which sends you into your orgasm. Your head is thrown back into the pillow, feeling your walls pulse around him as he releases into your pussy. His pace is still the same, slowing down as he makes sure he cums every last drop into you. You catch your breath as Leon collapses on top of you. You hold onto his back, and the back of his head.
“Fuck Leon..”
He laughs into the skin of your neck, still inside of you.
“Was it good for your first time?”
“That was perfect.”
He kisses your neck, moving up to kiss your cheek. Petting your hair, he admires your face and smiles. Leon sits up, slowly pulling out of you. He watches as his cum slowly leaks out of you, a big smile on his face.
“Let me clean you up, pretty girl.”
He stands up, finding a towel from your laundry and helping clean you up. Leon then pulls his clothes on, searching for yours and helping you get dressed.
“Please don’t leave this time Leon.”
He smiles at you, admiring how pretty you truly are.
“I wasn’t even planning on it, babygirl.”
He lays down, pulling the covers over the both of you. Letting yourself fall asleep, you enjoy Leon's big arms cradling you as he cuddles into your neck.
#leon kennedy x reader#leon scott kennedy#leon kennedy smut#resident evil#leon kennedy#resident evil smut
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TITLE: Brown Eyes Don’t Pry
PAIRING: Changbin x f!reader
SUMMARY: Changbin comes home from the gym, only to find you getting yourself off with your door wide open - a delicious opportunity for him not to pass up. To watch the way you make yourself cum when you think nobody else is around.
TAGS: perv!Changbin, female masturbation, orgasms, voyeurism, reader is watching porn, hints of humiliation, (this is slightly short but it’s been on my mind).
WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSWF SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.
MASTERLIST
Changbin’s body is killing him.
Muscles aching, quads sore, calves sore. The only saving grace to relieve some of it was to ensure he was properly stretching and had a thorough cooldown. He followed that up with a hot shower at the gym and getting into some fresh clean clothes before jumping in his car and heading back home.
The drive would’ve been a lot more miserable had he not taken the necessary steps to feel comfortable after a tough session. However, Changbin is always in for the nitty gritty training that he puts himself through. Despite how nagging or painful it can be prior and post, the progress will always keep him going.
In light of that, he always needs to take care of his body in between sessions too. For that reason, when Changbin arrives home and heads inside, he collapses onto the couch. Sleep threatens to pull him under if he doesn’t get back up to make himself some breakfast. That's equally important too, to which his grumbling stomach agrees.
At that minute, Changbin hoists his tired body off of the couch, about to head into the kitchen to cook up something nutritious when something catches the attention of his ears. From downstairs, he couldn’t quite pinpoint if it was a TV playing or voices. Felix was at work, he knew that much since he saw him leave this morning. Plus, his car isn’t parked in the driveway.
You on the other hand were supposed to be out with friends until lunch, and as Changbin peers down at the screen of his phone, it was clearly nowhere near lunch. He’s only about to have some breakfast. However, the ongoing noises from upstairs makes him curious to see what’s going on.
There’s no way an intruder broke in. Changbin couldn’t hear any clamour of items or hurried, shuffling footsteps across the floor. It only sounded like a voice.
That’s when it becomes a bit more distinct as he begins his ascent upstairs while his fine-tuned ears recognises the distress behind the person’s voice. How anguished they sounded. But then he sees it as he makes it up to the top of the stairs, through the crack of the door to your room.
“Ah, y-yes, fuck. God, wanna cum so bad...”
Changbin's entire body freezes on the spot. Suddenly, his legs can’t move. They don’t want to move. Not from the sheer shock of seeing you half-naked from the back, grinding your pussy over the rounded corner of the desk in your room keeps him from moving. Only his jaw manages to unhinge itself a bit as he watches you rub yourself until you feel good.
You must’ve been like that for quite some time as Changbin noticed the creamy glaze in between your folds, some of which had made an appearance on your desk. It helped glide you over the surface of the desk more easily, so much so that you needed to grab the edge with one hand while trying to hold your phone in the other.
If Changbin hadn't seen what you were holding, he still would’ve guessed correctly that you were watching porn. From the erotic sounds alone, it was relatively easy to depict.
He swallowed a thick lump in his throat that had been growing as fast as the tent in his pants. He doesn't want to move, remaining in place as he listens to your tortured and forced whimpers. Never in his wildest imagination did he ever think of being in a situation like this.
Whilst you both are friends - roommates at the very most, he has never seen you in this type of light. So vulnerable. So fuckable, even.
Watching you lose your mind over trying to rub your pussy the right way, over and over again. The state of desperation you're in causes his cock to start filling out. He takes in the fact that your legs start to shake as you draw near to a long-awaited orgasm.
“Gonna cum, gonna cum, fuck, please!” You call out to nobody, almost making Changbin chuckle.
As the pace of your hips picks up, so does your breathing. The stimulating feeling is all too good as it bursts vibrantly at the seams for release to trickle throughout all the best parts of your body. The porn playing before your eyes of a woman getting railed until she starts shaking, makes you wish that you had a dildo or something to fuck yourself with.
Something - anything that would allow you to clench and cream around until you start seeing stars.
Sick of your hands having to do the job, you had to resort to other methods. There are no detachable shower heads in the apartment, nothing malleable yet sturdy enough to insert - either they were too big or too small, or, too dangerous.
When you were trying to figure out what to use, the thought of Changbin’s massage gun crossed your mind. But, you’re not sure if you would go that far especially knowing that he always keeps that thing near him whenever his muscles start playing up. Not to mention, he probably wouldn’t appreciate you using it as a sex toy.
However, none of it mattered at the moment. Not when you’re gasping for air, moaning as if there isn’t another soul in the house. Not to your knowledge at least as Changbin watches your muscles writhe when you push yourself over the edge. The pleasure buildup makes it so intense that you can barely continue to grind on the desk.
“Y-Yes! Mm, c-cumming,” you throw your head back, phone clamouring out of your hand as you go to grip the other side of the desk now to keep the momentum up.
You want to milk every last bit of your orgasm until the very last drop of pleasure leaves your body. As gasps heave out of your mouth, all you are left with are the remnants of a strong orgasm and the tremoring aftershocks that come with it.
As you slowly bring yourself down, you barely hear the creak of the door over the thumping of your heartbeat pounding in your ears. The uncanny presence of another was too hard not to miss, causing you to zap right around to find Changbin staring right back at you.
He stands underneath the doorframe with a blank expression.
There are no words that come to mind. Each mental faculty you possess scrambles to search for some decent explanation to justify what you’ve done - and in front of him no less.
“I think you ought to keep the door closed next time you want to get yourself off,” says Changbin cooly. “And…maybe wear some headphones if you’re going to watch porn too.”
“I-I didn’t - I wasn’t-”
Changbin fake pouts, throwing on a synthetic look of sympathy as he steps over the threshold of your room, “really? You’re going to lie after I just finished watching you make yourself cum all over your desk?”
Your eyes widen, an icy feeling washing over you before you notice the bulge in his pants, “you saw…”
“Saw, heard, witnessed - you name it Y/N,” Changbin lists. “Plus it wasn’t that hard when you had the door nearly half open. I suppose you were hoping one of us was just going to slide right in behind you, huh? Maybe waiting for Felix to come home early, see you bent over and wet just for him to fuck you.”
“That’s not - that’s not what it looks like,” you try to explain. “I was just…I needed to…I had nobody to…”
“To fuck you,” Changbin finishes off your sentence perfectly.
Exactly that. The whole point of getting yourself off was because you aren't getting fucked. What can you do when you're horny and have nobody to dick you down when you need it? Who's going to finger fuck you so that you don't have to do it yourself? Changbin doesn't even need to see through you to find that out after watching you.
He can see your insides angrily shredding yourself up with embarrassment. The fact that he just caught you red handed, drawing out a furious blush over your cheeks. Not only was it the humiliation that evoked such a reaction, but it was also Changbin’s words.
Some far away part in the back of your brain actually hoped that someone would come up behind you and ‘slide right in.’ To start fucking you unprovoked. You were clearly ready for it and desperate enough, but the main thing is, you wanted it too. To you, it almost sounded like Changbin could have.
“All you had to do was open your mouth,” he says and reaches down to gently grab your jaw to turn your head from side to side. “Then again, I’m sure it has its other uses.”
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Dulcet
Peter Parker x fem!reader
in which it's a game
part1| part2| part3| part4| part 5| 11.1 k
a/n: let me know if there are mistakes, more notes at the end <3
Shallow breaths echo around the forlorn silence. He keeps a distance. You endure pain.
He doesn’t talk much. He doesn’t want to. He brings you water when you ask and carries you from one room to another. He ensures your pillow is high enough while you eat,and your TV show is amusing enough while you lie. But he doesn’t talk.
You can’t speak, either. You don’t dare. Besides the meek requests and whispered gratitude, your lips fail at words. You want to ask him if he is angry with you and if he hates you as he attends to your wounds. You want to know if he counts the minutes until he leaves you to bed and if he’s been sleeping enough because his eyes are red most of the time. But you can’t speak.
Peter’s hands are shaking as he pressures your wound, his vision blurry, his ears ringing. Mark is dead. Soon, you will be, too, if he doesn’t find a way out of this.
He needs to think. Fast. He needs to stop crying your name and calm down. He has to get it together, he has to stop trembling, and he has to calm down, and he has to–
He can't breathe, so he takes off his mask. He hates the garment on his hands that prevents his touch. They are shaking as he moves your shirt up to see the wound. Curses echo in your ears.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I told you not to–” he moves around, estimating the safest way to hold you. “Why didn’t you listen? Why don’t you listen?!”
Your mind is foggy, the ability to move your limbs lost on you. You hear Peter’s complaints and pleas, feel his firm grip on your weak body.
“Peter…”
“Why? Why?! I told you! I told you to- Why don’t you never listen?!” he holds your hands and brings them on his. “Pressure the wound. Don’t move your hand, you hear me? Just, just- just hold them tight–”
So you do. You put all your strength left into your wound, feeling your hand get wet and red, all while Peter gently places his arms around you, careful not to move you too much. He elevates your legs while carrying you. He doesn’t know what he is supposed to do.
He doesn’t know where to take you.
You listen to the faucet running as your nails dig into your palm. It is lamentable how the only sound ringing in your ears is either water splashing or footsteps thudding when he is around. Heavy words have soared akin to a mountain between you two, one that is painful to climb. The high walls of unspoken cries refuse to crack now that neither of you dares to speak.
He exits your bathroom, head down, hands wet. You know the routine; he’ll dry his hands with his shirt, pad to your kitchen, and make you a sandwich. He’ll ensure you eat it and then leave to come back late at night to attend to your injury again.
He stops midway to the kitchen and turns around. You watch him enter your room and avoid eye contact with you. He frowns and moves his eyes from one corner of the room to another.
“What is it?” you ask, voice hoarse.
“It’s time for the,” he gesticulates carelessly, and then he nods to your desk as if he found what he was looking for. “the thing that you always watch at five.”
He grabs the remote from your desk and places it next to you. You wish he hadn’t moved his hand so fast before you could touch it. “Thank you.”
He glances at you for the first time in that hour and quickly averts his eyes.
You let him walk away. What can you even say?
“Peter, it hurts.”
“I know, I know, I know, just hold on, trouble, come on,” he prattles, all while holding you in his arms. He doesn’t know if he can swing you in this position, but it is the only solution.
Where was the nearest hospital? He swings around the sky all the time; why did he never pay attention? What was he thinking dragging you into this? Why does his heart sting as your whines pierce his mind?
He shakes his head.
Standing still is no help to you. He needs to move. Thus, he shoots one web after another, flying with you in his arms, searching for a place that will keep you safe. Safe from danger, safe from hurt, safe from him.
You are clinging to him the hardest you can, eyes closed, face in a frown. He wonders if you feel sick or dizzy. If you do, it is his fault.
All of this is his fault.
You are bleeding on him, and it is his fault. It should have been him. It should have been him staining your shirt red, not the other way around. This is not how it goes. You are not the one crying from agony. You are not the one in need of saving. You are not the one whom he gets worried over; you are the one that does the worrying.
If not, then it’s his fault.
He thinks of the possible replies to doctors' questions.
You would think the female lead would understand that the boyfriend is lying and that the right person for her is her best friend, but for some reason, she keeps ignoring the poor guy’s pure love. You would also think that Peter would have the same opinion as you.
“He is not stupid. He is in love.”
“Which made him stupid,” he murmurs as his eyes trace the bloody scar on your torso. It’s one of the few sentences he has given you that day. “Sit straight.”
“How is wanting to be near the girl you lo–”
You sit straight after Peter shoots you a harsh look. He places a pillow behind your back, and you let him slowly take care of your wound.
“As I was saying,” you start again. This is a mere attempt to have him talk to you more than usual, one that is very uncomfortable for you. “He just wants the girl he loves to be happy.”
“He should leave her alone then,” Peter glances at you when you hiss at the burning sensation of the antiseptic.
“Why?! She loves him, she just doesn’t know it yet.”
He doesn’t reply, and you know no more words will leave his lips until he is done with his work. Thus, you talk no more, letting silence dawn per usual.
If only one of you broached the subject that’s growing heavier day by day, this could have been easier.
He lays you down on your bed, careful not to wake you up. When you whimper as he does, he curses under his nose. Stepping back, he stares at you for a moment.
He thought he was late.
He thought all the flying in the air had made things worse. He thought your wound would not close, your bleeding would not stop. He thought he’d have to–
Peter feels faint. His limbs are weak, and he remembers he hasn’t eaten all day long. He also hasn’t drank any water, which explains the headache. His body is sore, rightfully so. After getting you to the hospital, he has flown back to his house, changed into something he now realises is wrinkled, and ran back to you as Peter instead of Spiderman.
He drinks your water and nibbles on your bread. He falls to his place by the window and stares at the carpet.
He knew this day would come. He knew he’d have to wait by your bed, count the seconds, and listen to your heavy breaths. He knew he wouldn’t be able to protect you from harm.
Nothing is new.
Moonlight shines and glazes as Peter watches you sleep.
He has no idea what and how to say when you wake up. He doesn’t know how to act. All he knows is that he will take care of you until you are strong enough to slap him when he leaves.
"I can do it myself," you protest.
"The hell you can," Peter grumbles, face in a grumpy scowl as he grabs your arms. You refuse to lean to him, determined to carry yourself around with as much grace as possible.
By around, I mean the toilet.
It is embarrassing enough that Peter helps you shower; you don’t need him to know your bowel movements.
“How am I supposed to heal if you keep coddling me?” you murmur.
Peter stops in his place, snaps his head towards you. He doesn’t say anything, and yet the look in his eyes is enough words to your heart.
You know you strike a chord each time you mention anything regarding your wound, healing, hurt and pain, but he needs to grow up. He needs to handle this without his emotions, ones that he refuses to communicate.
You seize the opportunity and enter the bathroom yourself.
“Call if you need help!” you hear Peter yell behind the closed door.
“Don’t spy, you creep!”
You hear him step away from the door; he must have really pushed his whole body to hear your movements.
“It’s not spying,” he calls back. “I was just making sure–”
“Peter!”
“Sorry!” he says, steps fading away.
It takes time, but you manage to leave the bathroom without a call for help. Bittersweet, that is. A few days ago, you would groan and whine with each movement, trying to stifle yourself so that Peter wouldn’t hear you. As of now, you are slowly gaining your strength back, and the only reminder of the unfortunate incident is the occasional sting and Peter’s distant mannerisms.
“I think I want to make my own sandwich today,” Peter’s back greets you when you enter the kitchen; he’s been going through your fridge in the hopes of ingredients.
"I was gonna make you pasta," he turns around, and you suppress the urge to smile.
He wanted to cook for you.
But again, he's been doing that for some time now.
"Are you hungry?"
When he nods, you slowly walk up to your shelves. Another thing you have noticed is that since Peter has been living in your apartment part-time, your fridge and shelves are full of groceries.
"You shouldn't be walking around," he opens the shelf next to yours.
"I'm sick of lying in bed," you shrug, stretching your hand to take the pasta.
The sting strikes, almost knocking you over; you shouldn’t have pulled your arm that swiftly.
Peter hisses your name, “Mule,” he utters before taking down the pasta himself as his other hand rests on your bicep.
You scowl at him while recovering, “I’m fine.”
“Sure you are,” Peter bends over to find your pan. He’s looking at the wrong places.
“I can handle myself, you know.”
“And I’m Spiderman.”
“You are Spiderman,” you hand him the pan, which he takes without glancing at you.
You notice the subtle curl of his lips and the effort he wasted to hide it. You are doing the exact same; bickering with him has always been fun, even if he is distant and you are injured.
“How about you make yourself useful and sit on a chair?”
“How’s that any useful?”
“It helps the worrying.”
“I see no reason for worrying.”
“That’s because you are slow,” he turns around once he has put the pasta to cook. You feel his arms around your limbs, firm but gentle not to push your body to its limits, and let him lead you to the chair behind the table.
“You look pretty without being a hindrance,” he says when you sit down.
You don’t think you look pretty at the moment at all. “Mind you, you are the one in my apartment.”
“Preparing you a meal,” he nods and starts making the sauce.
“One that I’m perfectly capable of making.”
Peter scoffs. “Uh-huh. You as in you who whines every time she moves her arm.”
He finds it amusing that you are willing to banter even in a state like this.
“Oh, I wonder why.”
“Probably because you are so intent on hurting.”
“I am just strong enough to handle it,” you shrug playfully, pretending not to feel his burning stare piercing through your forehead.
You know what he is thinking; you can almost hear his thoughts. You haven't forgotten the fights roaming in your room, his harsh looks and raised voice against your aching body and breathless words.
He doesn’t remember when the silver hues of the moon abandoned their place for the golden light of the sun to take over. His mind has fled from the grasp of time, running amok with the perilous thoughts between its palm.
Its games have been played. Deceptions toward self, fear and rage dangling from the ropes it clutched have triumphed in gaining power over his heart.
The sound of his heart has been drowned, its echoes only blurring the clarity of the past, staining the white flames of apathy.
He has made up his mind.
A low whine averts his darkened eyes from his bruised knuckles to your frame on the bed. He slowly rises from the floor, staring at you, gaining consciousness back as the sore muscles and agony of your injury kick in.
It takes time for you to fully focus.
You are confused, in pain, and uncomfortable.
Memories of red, blue and black flashing like pictures in your mind, sounds echoing around, but none of them makes sense. Not yet.
You can’t move around. Your eyes look for water and find Peter instead. Maybe he can bring you water.
He’s standing a bit far away.
“Peter,” you say, but your voice doesn’t seem to reach him. Or you.
You clear your throat as he steps forward, hovering over you beside your bed. “Good. You’re awake,” he nods.
His voice is far, or maybe that’s just the ringing in your head.
“What happened?” you manage to ask. “I need water.”
He turns around and leaves, coming back with a glass of water.
“Thank you,” you whisper, attempting to rise from bed. He helps you.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
Now, they all make sense. The cure and your running. Peter and Mark, the excruciating pain in your bones, Peter’s distressed calls. You remember now.
“Hurt. What happened? Did you cure Mark? What about the–”
“Mark is dead.”
You look up to him, your face in a grimace and your breathing shallow. His face has no indication of feeling. His eyes are shrouded. “You couldn’t cure him?”
“I had to kill him.”
It means the same thing; you know it does. But it doesn’t feel the same.
“What happened after,” you look for the right words. “You know, after I–”
“Almost bled to death?”
He is angry. Not the screaming and yelling one. The silent one.
“Peter, look,” you try to move up, but the pain arises. “I’m sorry, alright? I know what you said, and I know what I did, and I’m truly sorry. It won’t happen again–”
“No, it won’t.”
His tone is curt, and so are his eyes.
You put the water glass away. “What is that supposed to mean?”
He doesn’t say anything at first.
“Nothing, really,” he shrugs. “It just won't happen again.”
You don't like how that sounds.
“Peter–”
“You should lay down,” he cuts you off. “Don't tire yourself out.”
This is not right. This is not how you left things. You are too weak to play games.
“What the hell is wrong with you? If you're mad at me, just say so–”
“If I'm mad at you,” his eyebrows shoot up as he scoffs. “If I'm mad at you?”
“That's what I said, yes.”
Your eyes watch him pace around, his face changing with every thought his mind produces.
“You could've died,” he says, mostly to himself.
“I–”
“You could've died there. In my arms, from a wound that I caused,” he turns to you.
You finally see it.
The anger. Fear. Desperation and exhaustion. All have painted his countenance into something unrecognisable to you. Something strange. Distant.
“You didn't cause anything,” you decide to reason.
“Oh, I did. I did, and I won't ever again because this,” he gestures the distance between you two. “Is not happening again.”
Your heart drops. You don't try to hide the feeling.
“What are you even saying?”
“What I'm saying is after I make sure you are okay, that you can walk and talk without groaning from pain, I'm not seeing you again.”
No.
You shake your head, albeit it makes you dizzy. You want to reach out to him, but you are not sure you can stretch your arm without hurting.
“That's not fair,” is all you can say between the pain and hurt. “That's not fair, you can't punish me like this–”
“I'm not punishing you, I'm protecting you because clearly, you can't do that yourself when I'm around.”
You abhor the way he composes himself.
“No, you're punishing me, you're punishing me with your absence, you know damn well it was an accident–”
“Accident or not!” he raises his voice this time. “Accident or not, you could’ve died, alright?! I’m not betting on that again.”
“It is not up to you, Peter! I can die walking on the sidewalk, too!” you match your tone to his regardless of how much it’s agonising. “You can’t protect me all the time!”
“I can try.”
He is not thinking properly. This is not right. You need to make him understand that this is not right.
“Peter, please, listen to me–”
He shakes his head and takes the glass you’ve put aside. “No, don’t. Don’t, okay? You need to rest. Rest and heal, exhausting yourself won’t do any good.”
Maybe it is not so nice for you to start healing. To start not needing Peter as much as you used to do.
He can see it. He can see that you are getting back on your feet, and it absolutely terrifies you that he will leave.
You don’t think he’s changed his mind.
Otherwise, he would talk to you. Not talk to you as if you are a civilian he is responsible for taking care of, but as if you are his friend. Yet, he refuses to.
“How are you feeling?” He enters the room with bags in his hands. The flex of his biceps under the shirt distracts you, and you wonder if he chose the shirt on purpose, as the weather is far from welcoming this kind of attire.
It’s late; you figure he must’ve come back from nightly patrols, which means he’ll leave to sleep in an hour or so.
That makes one visit a day.
You avert your eyes from him to the laptop screen. “Is that pizza?”
You hope it is; you’ve been too lazy to prepare yourself a proper meal.
“Have you eaten today?”
He knows you haven’t; he knows you too well after caring for you all this time.
“Coffee?”
He nods with an ‘ah’ to your sheepiness. “No wonder you have a headache.”
You do not want to miss this, him worrying over you in a teasing way. You don’t want to miss him.
“And I’m–”
“And you’re cold, yes, I know,” he puts the pizzas next to you. “Plates?”
“Nah, we can eat without.”
“All right, loafer,” he nods but still heads towards the kitchen.
“I’m sure I said no plates.”
“How many glasses of water have you had today?” his voice echoes from the kitchen, and you start to count in your head.
“Two?”
“So, two glasses of water and coffee, am I right?” he returns with a bottle of water, aiming it at you.
Your eyes widen at the ominous possibility, your hands already in the air to shield yourself. “Yes, but– hey, DON’T THROW IT!”
He does and you fail at catching it.
“Yeah, you’re a hopeless case,” he nods before taking a slice of the pizza.
“You need to stop throwing things at me,” you take the bottle from the ground, noticing the absence of pain. You are indeed healing.
“Someone has to train those reflexes, you can’t catch a ball to save your life,” you watch him pick the mushrooms on the pizza and eat them separately.
“I’ve got you for that.”
“Not always.”
“I don’t understand!” no matter how hard you’ve tried not to raise your tone, there you are, getting irritated by your own voice.
“What is there to not understand? We’ve been over this for a hundred times by now,” he says calmly.
He is not wrong.
No other words have been heard in the last twenty-four hours.
“It’s bullshit. Leaving me for my own good. If you don’t want to see me anymore–”
“Nope. No, absolutely not,” he abruptly stands up from the chair, shaking his head. “I’m not playing that game.”
“You can’t make a decision on my behalf!”
Your name leaves his lips in a whisper.
“I’m tired of this, trouble,” he leans to the counter with a disappointed look on his face. “You know why I’m doing what I’m doing.”
You know. You do know, and yet knowing does not make it any less painful.
“You are a selfish jerk, Parker.”
Your heart beats in your ears as you try not to make it obvious that Peter’s every touch sends shivers down your spine. You wonder if you’ll ever feel his touch again after this, ponder what to say, how to behave to not break the already strained thin string between you.
“It’s healed,” he reclines, dropping his hand to his knees.
It takes all the vigour in you to keep your face still, to not let him know how much you are devastated to hear the words.
“Thanks to you,” is all you can say, and he leaves it unanswered.
Peter doesn’t think he deserves thanks for anything he has ever done. He watches your dismal eyes and knows he doesn’t even deserve a smile anymore. Especially not from you.
He’s been acting distant to the best of his abilities, breaking your heart into a million pieces, readying you for his decision.
He hates himself for that.
He absolutely abhors himself for being the reason for your gloomy countenance, broken laugh, and moments spent ruminating on the things he renders no control from you.
They falter him, placing doubts in his mind, pushing his mind against its limits and his heart down its cliffs. He often finds himself contemplating if this is the right choice. If cutting ties with you will indeed save you from future disasters. If speaking how he actually feels towards you will put you in further danger.
Sometimes, the words push against his lips. They threaten to spill over, to relinquish every hold he has over his heart to you, to divulge all his soul’s secrets to yours.
Then, he remembers.
He remembers the red in his hands. He remembers the echo of your whines in his ears. He remembers the unconscious moans haunting him all night long.
“I better get going,” he stands up, dusting himself off, attempting to remove the image from his mind.
“Where?” you ask, eyes following him around.
He doesn’t know how to answer. He can lie and tell that he has things to do. He can avoid any reply.
“Home.”
But he doesn’t. Instead, he watches your smile waver, sees your exertions to hold everything together.
“This soon?”
“Yeah.” he nods, not noticing his tone lower to match yours.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then?”
There it is.
There goes the hope you’ve been holding onto, and he is about to strip you off from it.
Peter whispers your name and the light in your eyes ebbs. The sofa you’ve been sitting on shrinks, suddenly unable to hold you. You rise from your seat, hoping to be close to him as if it would help.
“Peter, come on, you know this is ridiculous,” you try to reason once more. “Don’t toss this away just because you’re afraid.”
He shakes his head. “You don’t get it, do you?” he stares into your eyes. “This has put you into danger so many times that I’ve lost count.”
“Peter–”
“Sweetheart,” he takes a big step towards you, holding you by the arms. “Don't make this any harder than it already is.”
Peter feels a lump in his throat as you shake your head and squirm away from his hold.
“You have no right, no right to do this,” you say, this time firmer than before. “You can’t decorate your own decision as ‘protecting me’, Peter.”
“My decision is to protect you!” He steps forward, hovering his hands close to your body.
“I don’t want that!”
Peter tries to calm himself. He knows exploding won’t do any good. He reminds himself that this is a lot more agonising for you than it is for him– he is the one making the decision while you are not allowed any control over it.
“It is not about what you want–”
“Peter, do you even hear yourself?!” your tone raises, and he can feel the anger burning in your veins. Anger from being desperate, from failing to change things, from not being able to have a say in this. “Do you even fucking hear yourself?!”
He knows this is his cue to leave. He can not stay any longer.
“That’s it, I’ve overstayed my welcome,” he looks around to find his jacket. He doesn’t see you run a hand through your hair or hear you mutter curses under your nose.
You don’t try to persuade him any longer. He is not sure if he is grateful or resentful for that, but he knows you won’t lose further dignity to get a boy to stay.
He takes his jacket, throwing it around his shoulders, and striding to the door. The door creaks open, and he, despite all the protests of his mind, spares you one last look.
“Take care, trouble.”
“You are a coward, Peter Parker,” you shake your head and dash to your own room, shutting its door.
He knows you are right.
x
You’ve become bitter. Easily irritated and grumpy. Tired most of the time from overthinking.
You brush your teeth and think this is taking too long. You’ve never noticed how much time you've been putting aside for this.
You sit to study and find your thoughts fled to him. You believe your attention span has declined since the last time you studied. Either that or he has become the only thing you can think of.
You walk to campus and expect to run into him. You never do, and yet, you wait for it.
In the class, you notice you don’t take notes any more. Instead, you doodle so you don’t stare his way.
You return home with him in your mind, leave the room with him in your mind, and eat and drink with him in your mind.
And when you get in bed, that’s when the real nightmare begins.
That’s when not only your mind but your heart wreaks havoc as well.
Your feelings stain the sober thoughts, fogging your brain, deeming you unable to probe the facts.
Most of the time, it’s rage.
It’s the rage of being deprived of a say. It’s the rage of having all the ropes clutched off your palm. It’s the rage of being tossed aside in the name of love.
It burns in you.
It consumes you whole, blinds your senses. Its poison reigns in your veins, conquering your heart over his image. You rally no longer, welcoming the safety it provides.
Sometimes, however, it’s the heartbreak simmering under it.
It’s whys and ifs haunting your nights. The questions you want to ask him meddle in your mind no matter how well you know their answers will make no change.
You detest the sorrow of it– of losing someone you loved. Someone you love.
You struggle to tolerate it. The moment the tears prickle your eyes, you remind yourself of the rage, sheltering under its wings.
You run, and run, and run to escape the heartbreak’s crushing heft. Some days, you prevail. Some nights, the tears do.
You miss him.
You miss the evenings that dimmed into nights with him by your side. You miss his weight on your bed when you’ve just washed your sheets. You miss the light things around your home being thrown at you because he wants to train your reflexes. You miss the food he makes you eat.
You miss his laugh echoing around your heart.
You hate him for that.
You want to slap him across the face for keeping your favourite person away from you. You want to kick him in the stomach for marking every inch of your room with his memory. You want to hit him in the chest for rendering your body yearn for his touch.
You want to make him regret your absence, and you want to drive him crazy while doing it.
You simply don’t know how.
It’s midnight, and he’s not swinging in your room any more. He hasn’t been for a week. You shouldn’t wait.
Just close the damn window.
In the end, Peter is not visiting, and your room is cold.
x
Dusks turn into dawns, each hour a torment inflicted upon you. A day becomes one of the many others, yet he doesn’t become one of the others.
He is still there, alive and well.
And away.
Stolen glances are each a sharp knife in your heart. Clandestine yearning pulls you down, drowning you in his memory.
Nothing happens, but your heart beats as if it intends to abandon your ribcage.
You don’t talk, you don’t banter, you don’t even acknowledge each other.
He passes through you like the wind when you encounter. You don’t look him in the eye when you have a professor putting you two through a painful exercise together. He hides his wounds from you, and you don’t ask about them when you catch a glimpse of the bruises.
People pick on quickly.
They feel the loss of dynamic between you two in the class. Whispers arise behind your back, as well as the questions before your face. All of them get left without a reply.
“Please drop it, Ash,” you shake your head, sighing in annoyance. Not only in annoyance, but you can’t dwell on the other feelings in public. “Or ask him, not me. I’m tired today.”
“Okay, sorry, honey,” the redhead smiles, helping you with your drinks as you carry the meal to your table. “It’s just he also acts a bit off, you know?”
“He does?” you can’t help but ask as you two sit.
“Yep, it’s as if he’s not there. It’s not really productive for the project.”
“He must have a lot on his mind,” you say, playing with your food. You should eat it before it gets cold, as the weather is not forgiving these days. Or you simply shouldn't have chosen to sit outside. “Anyways, how’s the project going? We’re struggling a bit.”
“We can do better if Parker gets his shit together,” Ashley frowns, taking a bite from his burger. “Other than that, just the same old–”
A scream soars in the distance. Not a long time passes before it gets accompanied by the gunshot, wicked echoes of instructions. You see the silhouette of the people running around in the hopes of hiding.
You definitely shouldn’t have chosen to sit outside.
You don’t think; holding hands with Ashley, the first thing you do is to leave the table and flee to the inside, and if you are lucky, hide inside the bathroom.
Inside of the building is crowded to its limits, but there’s no turning back. You have to hide; that’s the only thing your mind instructs you to do.
“Ash, quick,” you drag her to the left, running the length of the corridor. If you remember correctly, which hopefully you do, there needs to be stairs.
Your heart beats in your ear, silencing every scream and yell echoing around the building. You don’t feel the push and pull of each person bumping into you, all of them rushing into some other place their mind decided.
Apparently, most of them indeed trust the building’s bathrooms enough to run there, blocking the stairs.
“Holy shit!”
“It’s okay, we can–” You look around to find something and fail to see anything.
“What about the classrooms?” Ashley asks, and you shake your head frantically.
“Too out in the open.”
“We are out in the open here too!”
You feel your body shaking in terror, mind operating too swiftly to regulate your breathing. “The other stairs! If we can circle the building–”
“You go,” she lets go of your hand. When you see what she’s doing, you find her boyfriend stretching out his hand towards her. It turns out he has a place for one next to him. “You go and, and, and text me when you get to safety, alright?”
When she leaves, you feel the sheer panic run down your spine. You waver between the two decisions. You wouldn’t think of leaving if only…
If only you weren’t the last person in the crowd pushing each other at the stairs. If they make it to this point, you’ll be the first one to get hurt.
Maybe it’s better if you run and circle the building. You turn around to take off, charge to the other side.
Instead, a taller figure crashes onto you, holding you by the arms as firmly as possible.
“Stay here! Don’t you dare move!” Peter orders with a stern expression. “You hear me? Stay here!”
He doesn’t give you much of a chance before taking off. Next thing you know, while you try to make your place between the frenzied crowd, a loud crash before the building hurts your ears.
You see Spiderman swinging around, and that is the only thing you see.
He blocked the main entrance by wrecking the billboard against the door.
Which gained you enough time to hide.
Your mind reflects his image only while your body runs for safety. If you look back to those moments, you wouldn’t remember a thing–how you pushed through the crowd in enough time to hide, how the shooting blarings got only closer and closer, how Spiderman’s fight only echoed in the place as descriptions from the girl close to the door.
You hoped he wouldn’t get injured in the process. You wondered if he’d visit in case of an injury or if he already had someone to ask for help. You scolded yourself for creating jealousy in your head in vain when he can be in pain out there.
You don’t know how the time passed.
All you remember is the shake in your legs as you followed the crowd outside after the announcement, according to whom criminals have been disarmed and neutralised. Only then you notice your phone being gone, left forgotten on the table you were dining at an hour ago.
You need your phone back.
If the announcement is true, there shouldn’t be any problem with you going back to the yard.
Checking your surroundings, you decide to make a turn and head in the opposite direction once you’re sure no one has their eyes on you.
You hope no one has touched your purse. Not only your phone but also your wallet and ID card are in there. It would be a big headache if you were to lose them all at once for a bunch of criminals–
“Where you going? Everyone is going that way.”
Your heart skips a beat at first, thinking one of the professors caught you, and then takes the pace after recognising the voice.
You don’t turn back.
“My purse is out there, I’m not letting it get stolen,” you continue walking, hearing Peter’s footsteps following you. “That is if it’s not already stolen.”
His hand grabs your arm and turns you around. “I’ll go get it, you get back to the others.”
“I can get my own purse, Parker, it’s not like there are any other bad guys running around–”
“There is one I haven’t caught yet, they just didn’t mention it in the announcement. Now, will you please get back to the others?”
You frown, forgetting the history with the guy before you.
“Then why the hell would they want us to expose ourselves? Are they crazy?”
Peter scoffs, letting you go. “They didn’t expose you, they asked for you to gather in the Hall, did you even listen?”
“I must’ve missed that part,” you murmur. “Anyhow, I need my purse. Take care, Parker.”
“No, absolutely not,” he grabs you by the arm once more when you turn around. “You go to the Hall, I’ll find it and bring it to you.”
“Such a gentleman,” you pull your arm from his hold, and walk to catch up to the crowd.
As you enter the Hall, your eyes look for Ashley or her boyfriend, and it doesn’t take much as there are only a handful of redheads around.
“I thought I told you to text!” she hugs you for a short moment, and you smile at her.
“You had the chance to take your phone?”
“Oh, honey, my phone is always with me.”
Looking around, you focus on people’s faces–distraught, confused, worried, and angry ones. For some, it still doesn’t feel real, for others it was shaking to the core. You still don’t know how you feel; you’ve been through worse.
Still, it doesn’t mean the worse doesn’t show up in your dreams. It does. It wakes you up in a cold sweat and obliges you to turn the lights on for a few moments. It gets better with time, but again, you’d wish there was nothing to get better in time.
“There you go,” Peter interrupts your thoughts, your belongings in his hand. “Nothing was stolen.”
You take them from him, relief washing over you. “Thanks.”
“Are you alright?” he asks, eyes wandering around your body, checking for an injury. You miss the feeling of his hands on you. “You didn’t get hurt, did you?”
“I didn’t,” you say. “I’m fine.”
He averts his eyes up to yours, and at last, the feeling hits you in the gut.
Who would’ve thought a pair of brown eyes could drown you to your death? You would laugh at yourself once if I told you your heart would cripple under his brown eyes, your breath would hitch, and your core burns in yearning for him.
And yet, now, there you stand.
Ready to ignite under his touch.
“Right,” he drops his hands. “Nice.”
He nods, like he always does, biting his lips. “Just follow the crowd, alright? Don’t- don’t change the route or something.”
With that, he turns around to leave.
The feeling sinks back.
He finally acknowledged you when he thought you were in danger. This was the first time after that day that he actually held a conversation with you.
Suddenly, a lamp lights in your brain.
You know how to drive him crazy.
x
Peter narrows his eyes, trying to decipher your intention. This is the third time this week– not to mention it’s been ten days he’s been babysitting you from the air– yet you are determined to die.
At least, that’s how it looks from the roof of a skyscraper.
Yes, he is following you. No, he is not stalking you.
In his defence, you are proving to be more of a challenge than any other criminal he has ever fought; he needs to keep an eye on you.
It was rather confusing at first; how all the bad luck seemed to greet you only. However, later on, the realisation has hit him like lightning, shedding light on your clandestine intentions.
In the beginning, it started with small clumsiness.
Peter felt the ache hammer his temples as if thorns were prickling against his eyes. He needed to sleep. Three hours were simply not enough for every day of the week.
He would sleep if only the haughty professor giving the lecture would stop scrutinising him the moment his head hit the desk. Thus, there he is, attempting at his best to force his eyes open.
He stares at the board. Takes in the numbers and denoted letters, notices how none of them mean anything to him. He must’ve stopped listening a long while ago.
He glares at the lecturer. Notes how he glares back and that the green of his eye is extremely vibrant. Wonders if he is indeed human.
He focuses on the lecturer’s lips. Thinks the professor might not be the cleanest person on earth because of the beards surrounding his lips. Decides he is too sleep-deprived for this.
He looks around. Doesn’t understand how and why his eyes land on you. You look bored as well. And dismal. He’d know; he has looked at you more than anyone else.
He wonders if you are upset because of him or if something happened in your life that he is not allowed to know any longer. He’d hate to drag you back into the same hell of a place as he did before everything went south. To have your sleep poisoned, your smile broken, and your heart shattered.
He wishes he never agreed to your help; it ended the same way regardless– him without you on his side.
He wonders whether your hair still smells like heaven, whether your phone screen is still cracked, and whether you bought a new kettle for your home.
He doesn't see the yearning in the brown of his eyes, but he can feel it in his heart. The crave to reach out and touch you. Feel your skin aflame under his touch. He has always, always, felt it, felt you melting under him. It filled his heart with something greater than he was willing to admit.
Losing it– losing you– was the hardest decision he has ever had to make.
He averts his eyes before yours can find them.
He closes them for a moment– just for a moment– and lays his head on his arms. He will raise it back in a few minutes. He will.
When he does, he realises the lecture has ended, everyone has left, and his spider senses are tingling.
Almost everyone except you.
You are on your tiptoes, reaching for a globe almost your own size, dragging it by your fingertips. The black plastic base makes a low screeching sound, and Peter grimaces.
“Stop that, what are you doing?” he asks, standing up and shoving his backpack to his shoulders.
“I need that,” is all you murmur as you drag the base closer, not minding the fact that the heavier part of the globe is facing you.
“Let me,” he says as he advances, but before he can approach you, you shoot a nasty glare in his way.
“I can do it myself,” you say and drag the base swiftly.
The globe falls with your force, aiming at your pretty head, threatening to break it in two. You are too late to protect your skull from it. Peter is not.
A silver web of Spiderman sticks to the sphere and pulls it away from you, right beside your feet.
You flinch at the sound of the impact, and Peter frowns. “Where’s your head at? Did you really think you could carry that around?”
“I hoped. Is it broken?”
Peter scoffs, almost laughing genuinely, but stops. “Would be surprised if it wasn’t.”
He doesn’t wait for any reply, moving past you to the door.
Peter didn’t denote any meaning to it. It was an unlucky accident and a lucky coincidence that he was there. He had to admit, he did panic when he saw your frightened face, trying to cover yourself from the blow, but that is how he always felt when something happened to you.
Thus, by the next day, he had forgotten about it. That is until he took notice of the bandage around your dominant hand.
His eyes were narrowed, trying to figure out how you’d managed to harm yourself. There was no way for it to be broken, and yet it was a mystery to him how you managed a gash that deep to be bandaged.
It was none of his business.
Yes, of course. None of his business. He shouldn’t wonder, as there is absolutely no reason for him to worry. He shouldn’t give in to the urge to walk up to you and question you. Or get mad at you for not being careful like he used to do.
He put distance between you for a reason.
Albeit you are indeed with an injury, it could have been worse with him around. Or he could have prevented it. You could have been captured, or tormented, or gotten into another accident trying to save him, and even though your hand must have bled again, you are better off, right? You could’ve been—
“What happened to your hand?”
You look up, eyes nonchalant grey and countenance indifferent towards him. He glances at the papers before you, deducing that he must have intervened with your studies. You shouldn’t have studied in the canteen anyway.
“Nothing serious,” you wave off your bandaged hand, which only makes Peter more uneasy. He doesn’t enjoy seeing you injured– no matter how small and insignificant it is.
“You cut it?” his brown eyes never leave yours, and he feels heartburn inside his chest at the sight of you. This might not be the best idea.
“Yeah.”
You are cold. Distant and indifferent. Unlike the first days, when he’d drown in your sorrow, cursing himself for your every shed tear, and burn to ashes at the sight of you, you now have a nonchalance painting your visage shadowed with a confidence he is not sure where you’re getting from.
“Knife?” he nods.
Your eyebrows raise, and Peter feels strange in his own skin. What is he doing? He has no right to this.
“Worried much, Parker?”
“Just want to make sure it’s nothing–”
“Nothing serious, that was the first thing I said,” you cut him off.
Peter feels himself falter. “Alright, that’s-that’s good.”
You nod, lowering your gaze back to the letters and numbers before you. Peter takes the cue and turns around to leave.
He looks back and sees you smile to yourself.
Going back, all of many things made sense, except that one. He didn’t think you’d be crazy enough to inflict pain upon yourself.
Peter shakes his head, jumping to another roof to have you in his vision. You are walking out of a coffee shop with a boiling hot one in your hand. He wonders if you’ll somehow manage to spill it and burn yourself again.
He watches your hair get wet in the rain and knows you deliberately didn’t take an umbrella with you. It is absolutely frustrating.
You are absolutely frustrating.
The birds that are chirping at this time of the year must be a simulation, Peter thinks. Or robots. He remembers the game that had android birds. Although he never understood their purpose, he supposed it was one of the ways to signal the player that twenty years later, androids will–
“Parker!”
Ashley’s call startles him and he turns around. Oh, she has dyed her hair purple. And you are there with her.
“Hey, Ash, what’s up?” he cracks a subtle smile after failing to catch your gaze. You are staring at the hot coffee before you. He thinks it is hot– who would want an iced coffee in winter? Maybe you, he’s not sure.
“Wanna sit with us?”
No, he doesn’t. Not with Ashley around. “Uh, actually, I was just about to leave.”
He wasn’t. He was going to think of the game and its complicated flowchart. Maybe guess how other choices may lead to totally different endings.
“Didn’t you just come?” She raises a brow.
Five minutes doesn’t count as just. “Yeah, for a change of air.”
Peter smiles and gets up from his seat to approach yours. “You ladies need me to bring you something?”
You don’t cast him a glance, toying with your coffee cup. He’d tell you to stop doing that unless you want to burn yourself, but he bites his tongue. It’s not his business.
“You’re gonna burn yourself.”
“No, I won’t. Thanks for the warning, though, Parker,” you continue to do it nonetheless.
Ashley is talking, and yet Peter can’t hear; his eyes are on the cup and the steam that hovers over it. Another blow that is a bit stronger than the one before, you’ll spill it and burn yourself–
Peter sees you hit the cup harder, and in a swift moment, he pushes the cup towards himself in the hope of not burning you. The dark liquid spills over, its steams soaring slowly.
“You alright?” his eyes check for anything wrong like they always do and rest on you when they don’t find any.
“Did you just spill her drink?” Ashley laughs.
“No–”
“He totally did,” you nod, determinant in your movements.
Peter scowls in confusion, staring into your eyes. You tilt your head in response. You still are so pretty, he realises. He thinks it is not the right time to miss the taste of your lips against his. He never got to kiss you the second time, did he? If the first one even counted as a kiss.
“You owe me a cup of coffee, Parker.”
He watches you leave in perplexity.
As he follows you from the air, the irritating regret fills him for not kissing you the second time, but he shuns the thoughts away. He doesn’t know what this game will result in, how hard the limits will get pushed into the verge of the break, and he certainly doesn't want any new ideas to get to his head now that he sees you frequently.
What goes through your head with your each escapade is still a mystery that he has yet to solve. How you dare to face the most ridiculous circumstances without even a tremble in your hands is a wonder to him.
How much more any of you is willing to go…that’s another story that Peter can complain about for hours.
His shoulders sulk with his idle steps. Gray stains the weather and his heart. He thinks of Mark. How he had to kill him. How the rage had blinded him, numbing his senses. What worries him sometimes is the fact that he does not regret Mark’s death, unlike all the other criminals who had to die in the battle against him.
All he could think was you when he was face to face with that man.
He wonders if that makes him a bad one as well.
He only wants to get back home and sleep.
He looks around the campus, finding the best route out of all the busy chatterbox students and couples who are about to have sex out in public.
He recognises your frame a few steps ahead from your backpack. He notices your limping state, frowns, and, without a second, thought approaches you.
“Why are you limping?”
“I sprained my ankle,” you don’t seem surprised to see him as the reply flows smoothly from your lips.
“Where?”
“The stairs.”
Peter’s heart stings with every one of your winces as you step on your feet. “Don’t you have a ride home?”
“I sprained my ankle after I turned down the ride.”
He checks his surroundings. “Let me take you to a doctor.”
You shake your head while Peter practically drags your backpack from your shoulders and carries it on his own. “It’s just a sprain.”
“Maybe, but you are walking on it, at least let me swing you home,” he keeps his tone as reserved as possible, not wanting to give away how this situation annoys him.
“What’s the worst that can happen?”
How would he know? He is not a doctor. “I don’t know, but I do know it’s not good to walk on it. Don’t insist, come on–”
“Peter,” this is the first time you’re calling him by his first name after everything. “If you weren’t around, I would still walk on my sprained ankle.”
“Yeah, but now that I’m around, let me help you,” his tone changes to irritation, and surprisingly, he knows you enjoy it.
“Oh, no,” you frantically shake your head before wincing again. And yet, a smile climbs up to your lips. Not a happy or a genuine one. One that resembles a smirk. “See, you being around has a big possibility that I’ll end up hurt.”
Peter’s frown deepens as his heart skips a beat. His mind runs amok with many interpretations of your words. “Is this what this is about?”
When you don’t answer, time fills in the gaps. He finally makes sense of every little bad luck. Pieces merge together like a puzzle.
You’ve been putting yourself in trouble on purpose.
He doesn’t plan to confront you about it yet. He has some thinking to do.
“What?” you ask, genuinely confused.
“Don’t torture yourself, let me carry you home,” he ignores the question altogether.
“I said no.”
He could not change your mind that day, just like you could not change his once. Yet, he did not have the heart to leave you alone unattended.
Thus, he followed you home from a distance.
From that day on, he's made sure to keep an eye on you.
Of course, there was no way of always being around you, and yet when he was, he’d have to prevent a disaster, whether from happening or from hurting you.
It was flattering, truly. To know you have placed enough trust in him to put yourself in ridiculous situations. It even drives him to actually not help you once, but his heart just won’t let him.
His night was mostly done; all he needed and wanted to do was idly check around the neighbourhood and make sure everyone was safe. He had a nice night– no big fights, just a few pickpockets and drunk potential dangers.
On his way home, he decides to pass through your street for the last time just to make sure you are indeed safe.
To his luck, you are not.
At first, he struggles to recognize you from the tiny silhouette and almost passes through you swinging in the air. Something, however, stops him in mid-air.
His eyes squint under the white cloth of the mask, and he jumps to the ground.
“It’s three in the morning, trouble,” his tone is indifferent, but what he feels is far from indifferent.
“Didn’t ask for time, Spider,” you don’t cast him a glance, shrinking to your coat instead. He turns around, walking backwards.
“Only homeless people and criminals wander around alone at this time. Which are you?”
“Just a girl,” you disregard. “You should leave me alone.”
“It’s not safe,” he shakes his head. “You gotta stop this, sweetheart.”
He can feel the shift in the air around you. Your confident walk wavers only for a second, and yet he notices.
“Stop what?” you ask, pretending that the name had no effect on you.
“Whatever game it is that you are playing,” Peter stops in his tracks; so do you. “Cut it out. It’s not safe.”
You look at him and shrug. “I can’t take you seriously with that mask.”
He takes it off with a quick movement, tousling his hair in the process. He would pay a heavy sum to know what you were feeling in the moment. He catches the change in your gaze and the quick glimpse at his lips.
He murmurs your name, “I know why you are doing this.”
“Pray tell.”
“You are trying to prove that you can get hurt without having a Spiderman in your life–”
“You said it, not me.”
“By jumping at every damned opportunity to get hurt,” he finishes the sentence ignoring your interruption.
When you don’t say anything more, Peter feels the frustration slowly climb up his core. He is tired from worrying about you every day. For a few days, he exhausted his own mind for a glimpse at yours to understand the logic behind all this.
He doesn’t know what to do.
“How long do you plan on keeping this up?”
To his surprise, you finally look him in the eye. His heart skips a beat. He forces himself not to dwell on how much he misses you.
���Until you stop the ‘for your own good’ bullshit.”
“Trouble, it was for your own good,” his tone has changed, growing tender now that your eyes rest on him.
They remind him of the glow he's been admiring for the past months. The laughter echoing in his heart, the light shining in his soul. The heat and desire and lust burning to ashes in his veins.
Maybe it is late. Nothing good happens after 2 a.m.
“Then I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, Parker,” you stride forward, and Peter hurries after you. He can’t leave this conversation like this.
He has to show you how insane it is to hurt yourself deliberately for his attention.
“Are you seriously that mad? That crazy enough to cut your own hand?” he demands when he catches up to you.
“When the hell did I cut my own hand?”
You sound truly confused, and he is only a step left to madness.
“The bandage!”
“Oh, no, it had nothing under it. But it did work, didn’t it?” you laugh, and Peter’s body ignites in so many colours. “Did you really think I would hurt myself for someone?”
“You burned yourself and dropped a globe!”
“No, I didn’t,” you laugh again, and not only Peter feels the desperation mingle with anger, but he also feels the self control slowly slipping between his palms. Ah, that laugh.
“You did–”
“You prevented any of that happening, remember?”
“And you bet on that chance?!”
When you giggle again, Peter’s eyes fall to your lips. He drowns the urge. It is neither the time nor the place.
“Yeah, I did. You should try the same thing sometimes instead of running like a coward.”
He has no idea what you said. The only thing he can hear is the dulcet tone and the lips singing the tune. Would you slap him if he slammed his lips to yours?
You’d have a right to.
“Trouble–”
“Stop calling me that, Parker,” you beckon with your hand. “And goodnight.”
Peter does not think he is a coward. Not when it comes to being the hero. When it comes to his heart, however, he is not so sure.
All he knows is that the obligation to keep you safe is growing heavy on him.
Its stress is straining his nerves thin, his feelings elevating the unease further. He can’t handle this any longer, and yet here he is, wanting to make sure you cross the road safely.
Watching you from afar proves to be more difficult than he had guessed initially.
To have you in sight all the time and yet not be able to hear you, talk to you, or touch you is pushing him to the verge of madness. Your memories start to haunt him, your smile before his eyes, your touch on his skin, and, oh sweet Lord, your lips hovering over his lips.
He curses every interruption ever hindering your lips away.
The feelings he has buried deep dig their way up to the surface with every strand of your hair wavering in the wind. Every laugh that is not presented to his ears taunts him. Every touch lingers on a skin that isn’t his burdens his chest.
He feels like he’s going crazy.
Lost in thought, he misses how you don’t check the road before walking. How the cars won’t stop for your sake.
He was afraid that you’d spill your hot coffee and burn yourself. No, you’re going to kill yourself in a car crash.
His heartbeat picks up as he stands up in a second, sticking a web to the roof after jumping off it. The cold breeze would not usually hurt him; thus, he is sure it is the adrenaline that spills cold water down his spine.
When you enter his vision, so close to a car that’s speeding as if it’s going to fly, he opens his arms and grabs you by the waist.
Your coffee spills on him, burning his skin, yet he clenches his jaw at the pain.
Swinging over the cars, his ears sting from your screech. He carries himself up by the web and lands on the rooftop.
Leaving your waist empty, he takes off his mask in rage.
“Are you out of your mind?!” he yells. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Your nose is red from the bone-shattering weather, but your smile radiates sunlight enough to warm hearts. “Oh, hey, Parker.”
“No! Don’t ‘hey, Parker’ me, you hear me?! Just-just stop this madness!”
Peter is frantic, which amuses you more. His face is red, and you are certain it is not from the weather. The vein in his neck bulges, but it does nothing to scare you.
“What madness?”
“Stop trying to kill yourself to prove a point, trouble, or you’ll actually die one of these days!”
Your smile widens. Your plan worked. It took a terrifying amount of fear to implement it and much more trust in him to act on it, but in the end, it worked, and you are so close to what you want now.
“I can die any time of any day.”
“Yes, but no,– fuck!” Peter curses roughly.
You know you just have to push him a little bit more. Make him face his fears. Just a little bit more, and he’ll break.
“I can jump from this roof, you know, you are practically encouraging me.”
He lets out a frustrated groan. "Alright! Alright! Fine, fine! Stop this! You win," he screams, hands in the air, eyes wide with fear and defeat. "Hell, you're gonna be the death of me!"
“I win?” you ask, eyebrows raised. "So, you’ll stop the 'for your own good' bullshit?"
Peter stays silent for a moment, the only indicator of his distress being his swiftly heaving chest.
Your shoulders sulk at his hesitation.
If you’ve gone through all the trouble and still failed to change his mind, then maybe it is not worth it. Maybe it was easier for him to endure your absence than it was for you to endure his. Maybe he has already accepted the situation, unlike you, who was simply tolerating it for a change to betide.
Defeat and desperation grow heavy on your shoulders. It carries to your eyes as well.
You shake your head and turn to leave.
Peter’s hand grabs your wrist before pulling you into his chest. His thumb raises your chin, and before you can react, his lips crash with yours.
Your heart hammers against your ribs. The last breath leaves your lungs as Peter’s hand travels to your waist and lower. This time, you don’t hesitate; you don’t let the shock confuse you.
You kiss him back.
You welcome his lips over yours, letting your hand touch his soft skin.
God, you’ve missed it.
It is soft and tender. The reminder of the affection you once had, of the tension you never lost.
It is not enough, and yet, nothing ever made you feel this at peace.
You draw a sharp breath when he slowly breaks the kiss.
"You owed me one,” he whispers against your lips. You flutter your eyes open, gazing at the brown you’ve missed.
He parts his lips to talk, "And yes, I will... stop the- the thi–”
You don’t let him. You know what he’s going to say anyway.
You don’t want to hear it. Why would you wish to hear it when you can feel it, taste it?
This time, the kiss is sloppy, hungry, filled with a yearn radiating from your lips to your hearts. It is rough and firm, just like his hands around your waist. You didn’t know there was any distance left between you two, and yet he managed to pull you closer by his hand on your lower back.
His other hand climbs up your neck, cupping your cheek.
It was cold outside, and now you are sweating under your coat.
You play with the hair behind his neck and let his tongue between your lips. The deepening kiss feels wrong out in the air, but his body against yours numbs any morals.
You forget frost, the traffic, the spilled coffee.
He forgets the mask, the roof, rain falling onto you.
There is nothing and everything, and both of them are you.
x
“How about you tidy up your place from time to time?”
You step on Peter’s shirt on your way to his bed.
“This is the tidied-up version,” he lays next to you, a cookie plate in his bed.
“You sure you’re okay with the crumbs?” you involuntarily smile and take one, but instead of biting it, you divide it in half.
“Yeah, it’s seen worse,” Peter watches the crumbs fall to his bed and averts his eye back to you. You look disgusted.
Instead of denying it, he smirks.
“Ew, Peter!”
“Ew yourself, missy. My bed is cleaner than your room.”
“There is a sock,” you point to the corner of his bed.
“Does it smell?”
“No, but it has a gap,” you laugh and don’t notice Peter staring at your lips. “Can you wear it?”
“Later,” he murmurs before moving you by the chin to face him. You smile against his lips as he kisses you.
Your days have turned into soft touches with him by your side and your nights into lustful kisses with you on his bed.
You don’t complain. He still drives you mad, pushes your limits with every study you two ever have to do, but he also encourages you, loves you, and on nights like this where it is only you, the serene darkness and him, kisses you like it’s the first time every time.
A slow, almost non-existent moan escapes from you, and he smiles his mocking smile. You let him guide you to your back as he props himself up by his elbow over you. His hand roams your body and reaches the hem of your shirt to travel under it–
“You guys want anything else?” the door cracks open.
“Oh, come on, May!”
okay, this is the final! i'm so so so sorry that it took almost three months, and thank you to every one of you who patiently waited for me <33
i loved writing dulcet, and i hope you loved reading it with me, please let me know what you think of the series and the final.
if you want, buy me a coffee
tags✿ : @starsval @taylorann2013 @miwagila @just-henny @pepsicolacoochie @teddtheweeb @1ts-izzy @simp-sentral @naok-iyuu @hearttjason @itsfloorcry @olivezgalore @wildestestdreams @patis643 @lovelyweepingrebel @thedavax @qwintlimon7 @delwrites @daddyjackfrost @eddieslooneymoonie @msstillinskimorgan @lilmaymayy @tarzinnia @warrenposts @thehappygrungelife @peridotermine @ihearttities @hitoshislut @sassyrizznerd @aheadfullofsteverogers @booksandfairytales-mainblog @marmie-noir @thelonerlover @ttulipwritezz @unicornforscale @gorillaglue23 @inkthgoat @dinovickydzillarex @simp-sentral @miwagila @adiaz-25 @void21 @pingpongfingfong @just-levyy @mommymortuary @kindlover @turningtoclown @xreaderbooksreads @anuncalledbridge @ezzynf @birdsinmywalls @somethingsmart123 @dreamsarecloserwithyou @sincericida @hollandweather
#peter parker#peter parker x reader#peter parker x you#peter parker x y/n#peter parker angst#peter parker smut#peter parker fluff#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker fic#peter parker imagine#tasm!peter parker#tasm!peter parker x reader#tasm!peter parker x you#tasm!peter parker x y/n#tasm!peter parker angst#tasm!peter parker fluff#tasm!peter parker smut#tasm!peter x reader#tasm!peter fluff#tasm!peter x y/n#tasm!peter x you#tasm peter parker#andrew garfield
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false god | l.n
summary: we might just get away with it.
warnings: based off of ‘false god’ by taylor swift, brothers best friend!lando, fewtrell!reader, mutual pining, sexual themes, this stupidly hot outfit bc he always looks good in black. also this is kind of trash but i really wanted to get something out for you guys 😩
masterlist | listen | ask box
₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊
the rain was pattering hard against the window in your room, but it was simply background noise as you played music softly from your computer. you hummed quietly to the song playing, your pencil scratching against the notepad before the soft ping let you know you had gotten a text.
lando
you still awake?
you grabbed your phone, unlocking it and typing back.
yea, why? can’t sleep?
a couple of seconds later your phone lit up again, a new message from him appearing on your lockscreen.
yea, still jet lagged.
wanna watch a movie or something? max and p went on a date and left me all alone 😩
you chuckled, typing back a response.
pretty sure that’s the point of a date 🤔
but sure, doors open
he disliked the first message, which made you chuckle before you heard footsteps echo down the hallway. your door creaked open, the brunette joining you on your bed as you closed your notebook. you pushed the things to the side, tossing him the tv remote.
“your pick this time.”
“i thought i picked last time?” he said, hand resting behind his head as the other grabbed the remote. you looked over at him now, the black shirt hugging his muscles perfectly, the black jeans showing off his thighs and the red backwards hat was about to send you into cardiac arrest.
it was a bad idea to look over at him, especially when the crush you’ve had on him had only worsened over the past day or so, just like it did every time he was here.
“mm, no,” you said, “i picked that scary movie last time, remember?”
“oh yeah, the only reason you picked it was because of that hot dude.”
you scoffed, “no!”
he sent you a smirk, “yeah, okay,”
you rolled your eyes and motioned to the tv, “just pick a movie, i’m gonna go make some popcorn. want anything?”
he twisted his lips in thought while you stood up. his eyes traveled over your figure as you put the stuff on your desk, the thin pajama shorts hugging your curves, the oversized hoodie falling down a little bit to return back to the tops of your thighs, you just looked so good to him right now. you always do, but right now especially.
he was quick to look away from your body, eyes meeting yours as you spun around, “just a water, please.”
you nodded, exiting the room and he let go of the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. he wasn’t sure when it had happened, but every time he saw you recently, his chest got tight. he wasn’t supposed to feel this way about his best friends sister, she was off limits. especially to him.
he was lost in thought until the microwave beeping in the kitchen echoed and pulled him out of it, reminding himself that he still had to pick a movie. he scrolled through netflix, settling on one he had seen before but knew you’d like.
you handed him his water, which he thanked you for before you plopped down on the bed. you put the popcorn in the middle of you two before starting the movie.
at some point the popcorn had been moved to the floor, the two of you getting closer and closer without really realizing until his finger bumped against your pinky. you sucked in a shaky breath, waiting to see if he would move it. he did the same, looking down to see if you were going to pull away.
when you didn’t, he made the next move and wrapped his pinky around yours. you didn’t want to make it obvious that you weren’t looking at the movie, but you really wanted to glance over at him.
he did it for you, though, turning and looking at you before bringing a hand up to your jaw, turning your head to look at him. you almost folded, right then and there. your heart beating out of your chest and everything was happening so quickly.
but when you met his soft eyes, glowing in the light of the small lamp you had kept on and the light from the tv, all the nerves washed away, “lando,”
his voice was quiet as he softly pulled away, “sorry, i.. uh, i don’t know-“
you shook your head, grabbing his hand and putting it back on your cheek, “no, it’s okay.”
he nodded, eyes flickering between your eyes and your lips quickly, having a mental debate with himself on wether or not he should take it a step further.
you took matters into your own hands, though. readjusting as you got closer. he watched you intently, his eyes locked on every move, the movie on the tv long forgotten about as the two of you breathed out. his green eyes were piercing right into yours. he leaned in a little closer, pressing his forehead against yours.
“i shouldn’t want to,” he breathed softly, “but i really want to kiss you.”
your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, “maybe you should.”
“it would ruin everything,”
“not if he doesn’t find out.” you were inches apart now, his hands on your hips as you hovered over him. your heart felt like it was going to bust through your rib cage and it was all you could hear as the room fell silent.
it didn’t last long as his voice broke through the tension, “fuck it.”
he nudged your nose with his, meeting your lips in a kiss that sent tingles down your spine. you kissed him back, letting his hands grip you a little tighter as his tongue licked against your bottom lip.
the kiss carried on for a while, neither one of you wanting to pull away when he rolled the both of you over so now he was the one hovering over your frame. his necklace dangled above your chest, lips moving from yours as they peppered kisses against the base of your throat.
“fuck,” he mumbled against your skin, “‘ve wanted this for so long.”
you hummed back, fingers running through the curls on the back of his neck, breathing out a soft, “me too.”
you brought one hand down his spine, gripping at the hem of his shirt as you tugged it up, revealing the soft skin of his back. he understood what you were saying with your movements, pulling the material over his head and tossing it to the floor.
once he turned back to you, it was your turn to have his hands ride up the sweatshirt you were wearing, his fingers soft against your skin. you giggled when he accidentally moved over your ribs, a smirk spreading across his face.
“you’re still ticklish there?”
you nodded, “unfortunately.”
“good to know,” he was definitely going to keep that in mind.
his lips met yours again as he kissed you sweetly, which turned hungry in a matter of a few minutes as he helped you out of the sweatshirt.
however, the sound of the front door closing made the two of you jump apart, lando pausing his movements as he froze above you.
“we’re back!”
“shit,” you mumbled, the footsteps nearing your door as the two of you separated. you pulled the first article of clothing you could find over your head.
“just hide in here till he goes away.” you mumbled, shoving lando towards the closet. he chuckled, but opened the door anyway.
“i like being your little secret,” he teased, “we should do this more often.”
you rolled your eyes, “shut up!”
you closed the door before he could speak again, flopping back on the bed before your bedroom door opened. you looked towards your brother, a soft smile on your face as he held up the container for you.
“brought you back dinner.”
“thanks, you can just put it on the desk.”
he nodded, walking into your room before eyeing you down, “you alright? your hairs a mess and you look frazzled.”
you nodded, smoothing your hair over with your palms, “‘m good, just woke up from a nap.”
he nodded, now his eyes falling to the shirt you were wearing, “is that lando’s shirt?”
you nearly choked, but looked down at the material you had thrown on. sure enough, it was the shirt lando had thrown on the floor a mere ten minutes before your brother rudely interrupted.
“huh, guess so,” you tried to play it cool, “guess it got mixed up in my laundry. just kinda grabbed it earlier.”
he nodded, sending you a look which made it look like he wasn’t totally buying what you were saying, “okay..” you licked your lips nervously, “p and i are gonna watch a movie, you can join if you want.”
you nodded, “yeah, i’ll think about it.”
“oh, is lando home?” max asked, “i had something to ask him.”
he spun on his heels, turning towards the door, but you cut him off before he could investigate himself, “nah, i think he went out.”
your brother nodded, “damn, alright. just let me know if you wanna watch the movie.”
you nodded, “i will, thanks.”
he closed the door behind him on the way out, lando soon opening the closet door quietly to leave the closet. you smirked when his eyes met yours, the two of you breaking out into quiet laughter as he joined you back on the bed.
“you div! you took my shirt instead of your hoodie?”
you laughed softly, “i’m sorry! i grabbed the first thing i could find.”
he smiled, hovering back over you, “you look better in it, anyway.”
“you know where it looks even better?” your arms were slung around his neck now.
“where?” his smile was still on his face.
“the floor,”
he laughed softly, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, “mind reminding me?”
you hummed, “i guess i could show you.”
#lando norris x reader#lando norris#lando norris x reader fluff#lando norris x reader imagine#lando norris x fewtrell!reader#fewtrell!reader#ln4#ln4 x reader#ln4 imagine#ln4 fluff#formula 1#formula one#formula one imagine#formula 1 imagine#mclaren#mclaren f1
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➪the one where jack's career takes off and you're left alone.
Part 2
Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, gaslighting, hehe
Word Count: 3.1k
Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine <3
You were proud. Beyond proud, even.
Jack’s career was taking off fast, you barely had a second to let it all sink in. You could only imagine how he was feeling.
The TV was on in the basement of his house, his mom’s cooking making its way down the stairs and emitting a growl from your stomach. Jack, who was sitting next to you, smirked as he took his eyes off his phone. You refused to make eye contact as your face heated up in a blush. “Stop staring at me,” you mumble as you continue to scroll through your Instagram feed.
Jack laughed as he pocketed his phone. “I told you to eat something before I picked you up,” he shook his head as your thumb continued scrolling, though you were no longer paying any attention to what the posts were displaying. “It’s not my fault you never listen to me.”
“I listen to you all the time,” you say back, deciding to just turn off your phone as you had become distracted by him. “You’re the one who wouldn’t let me go to the store to grab some of those chips I like.”
He laughed again and scoffed slightly. “You have, like, three bags of them at your place,” he pointed out and you turned to face him.
“But I don’t have any here,” you reply and watch as he shakes his head.
Just then, the door to the basement opens and his mom calls down that dinner was ready, unknowingly making your shoulders drop in relief. Jack, who turned to call back to his mother, gave you a smile and shrug when he faced you again. “There, problem solved,” he said as he stood up and held his hand out to you.
As soon as you took it, the TV switched programs and began playing the teaser trailer for Avatar: The Way of Water. You were only half way up when you sat back down again and tugged on his hand. “Ooh, look,”
Jack looked at the screen and felt his heart skip a beat at what was currently playing. “Seriously?” He asked no one in particular, his face heating up in embarrassment. He looked back down at you and his expression softened when he saw your look of excitement. “We’re not watching the whole thing, right? I’m probably not even in this one.”
As soon as he said that, the scene changed to show his character, Spider, in all his glory. You squealed in excitement as you tightened your hold on his hand and pulled yourself up. You wrapped your arms around his neck in a hug as you turned away from the screen. “I’m so proud of you,” you say and pepper his face with kisses. “Look, you’re on TV!”
Jack laughed as he wrapped his arms around your middle, the feeling of contentment washing away any ounce of embarrassment he felt at the fact that damn near every channel on TV had begun showing the trailer for the film.
If only you had known that this would be one of your last good memories you share with him, maybe then you would have savored the moment a little bit longer.
-
Jack <3: I miss you so much. Today has gone by so slowly.
You smiled down at the text, hiding your phone behind the table as you didn’t want to risk getting kicked out of class. This final year of high school was brutal, and in more ways than one.
Jack was away filming Scream VI, so the person who provided you with the most comfort was thousands of miles away. You were close to failing one of your classes, one required to get your diploma, and you recently had a fallout with your close friend.
So, yeah, things could definitely be going better.
Tell me about it. Chemistry is NOT fun. I miss you, too, btw.
You hit send just as your teacher looked up from his desk. Hiding your phone, you give him a tight lipped smile and a thumbs up, something he squints his eyes at before he is back to grading papers.
Your phone vibrates against your leg and you grab your book, opening it to make it look like you were reading from it, when in reality you were unlocking your phone.
Jack <3: I still don’t know why you chose that over drama. Acting is fun and easy.
You playfully roll your eyes and glance at the teacher before typing out a response.
Says the actor.
Jack <3: Fair enough.
You hold back a sigh as you put your phone in your bag. You couldn’t wait for him to come home. Granted, he just left and would be in Montreal for a couple more months. This was probably the first time you’ve ever wished for a summer to fly by. After spending almost every day with Jack, it was hard to go even a week without him. The thought of spending damn near a whole summer without him had your heart aching.
Two weeks in and you missed him more than words could describe. Stupid high school. Stupid long distance relationships.
Even though he texted you every day, or called you on the odd day, it still didn’t soothe your aching heart. You were so young, but that didn’t stop the love between you from growing stronger by the minute. A year and a half is a long time for young love.
Every time you looked at your phone you were met with his picture as your lock screen. It sent a jolt of pain directly to your heart whenever you looked at his smiling face and you silently cursed yourself for being so in love with him.
-
High school ended, as did the summer, and you couldn’t be more content. You couldn’t be happier.
September was nearly here, meaning the summer without Jack was over.
That’s who you were with now.
The TV was once again on, and like last time, neither of you were paying attention to it. Both your phones were turned off and placed on the coffee table a few feet away.
Your body was trapped between the backrest of the couch and Jack’s chest, his arms wrapped tightly around you and his chin resting on the top of your head. It had been like this for days, with the both of you wrapped up in each other’s arms without any words being said.
It was like no time at all had passed since you last saw each other, let alone a whole summer. Everything fell back into place and the two of you were reunited once again. You weren’t sure when he’d be called away for his job again, so you were spending every possible second you had with him. You hadn’t seen your own room in days as you’d been staying with him since he came back home, something you both had no problem with.
If there was one thing Jack hated about his job, and he wouldn’t even go as far as saying he hated it, really, it was the months he’d spend away from you. He hadn’t met you yet when he was filming Avatar, so he only had to worry about missing his family and friends. Then he fell in love with you.
The ache he felt in his heart during the entirety of filming Scream VI was only completely dulled when he returned home and found comfort in your arms. The months that passed were only being fueled by his want to return to you, the one person he felt his happiest with.
Despite knowing you for only two years, you play a big part in who he is and who he wants to be in his future. You are his future. He was young, damn near too young to be planning things with you this early in his life, but he couldn’t see it happening any other way.
He couldn’t see himself loving anyone else.
That’s how the rest of the summer went. Actually, that’s how the rest of the year went.
December came fast and that’s when everything changed.
Avatar: The Way of Water was officially released. Spider was officially introduced to the world, and Jack had never felt more excited. It had been years since he filmed his scenes for this movie, and to see it all come together was emotional.
You were his date to the premiere, something he had asked you months beforehand so you would be prepared, and to see Jack on the big screen had you crying half an hour in. The person you saw in front of you was one you didn’t know. You were complete strangers at the time of him filming this, and it was a big contrast to the version of him sitting next to you now, his hand holding yours tightly.
It was that night when the inevitable happened.
The movie was a massive hit, and though Spider was a character not many people liked, Jack was definitely a natural newcomer that had stolen the hearts of many fans.
His Instagram followers grew with each passing day and you were grateful that the posts he had with you on his account were swarmed with kind comments. You knew that his career would take off fast once his movies hit the theaters, so you were prepared when your own comments began filling with fans of his. Mostly on the posts that involved him, mainly the birthday one you had uploaded a few weeks ago.
Jack was called away for press tours and interviews and promo after promo.
It was a miracle when he found the time to just sit and facetime you.
The smile you were met with when you answered the call was enough to make you forget about the feeling of loneliness that had slowly started creeping into your body.
At the end of the day, he was still yours.
“Hi,” you say and place your phone on your desk, standing it up so you could go back to applying your makeup.
“Hi, baby,” he said back and you don’t bother hiding the smile that took over your face at the pet name. “What are you doing?”
You drop the brush you were using back into the container and meet his eyes. “I’m just getting ready to go out,”
Jack nodded before a teasing grin took over his face. “Got a hot date tonight?”
You rolled your eyes. “Depends, are you coming home tonight?”
Your question made his heart skip a beat. Home. God, he missed you. He was sick of staying at these hotels with the rest of the cast. All he wanted was to come home to you. He feared he was beginning to lose touch with how his life was before all of this, and the thought of getting caught up in everything had his heart racing.
“I wish I was,” he said quietly.
“Yeah,” you trail off. “Me too.”
A silence took over and you finished applying eyeshadow before you looked back down at your phone.
“I’m just going out with some friends from high school,” you answered his previous question after realizing you never actually told him what your plans were.
Jack nodded again before he gave you a boyish grin. He watched as you coated your lips in a shiny gloss before he sighed, “You are so pretty,”
Your face heats up and you refuse to meet his eyes as you begin cleaning up the surface of your desk. When you finally look at him, you find him already looking at you, his eyes full of love and longing. “I miss you,” you say as you grab your phone again. You stay seated as you hold the device closer to you, your eyes never leaving your boyfriend’s.
“I miss you, too,” he says back. “You have no idea how much I wish I could’ve taken you with me.”
You look away and chew on your freshly glossed bottom lip. “Can you promise me something?”
You hear the sound of shuffling and glance down to see that Jack had sat up to give you his full attention. “Of course,” he sounded unsure and you were beginning to question if you even had a right to be asking him this.
“Maybe it’s not my place to ask this, but,” you trail off, unknowingly making Jack’s heart fill with a sense of dread. You continued before he could call you out on it, though. “Just, don’t forget about me, okay? Please.”
You felt pathetic for asking him that, but it was the only way to let him in and allow him to see what the change was doing to you without actually telling him. You were terrified of losing him and it felt as though it was gonna happen sooner or later.
“Y/n,” he said sternly, making you meet his eyes through the screen. “Nothing could ever make me forget you. I love you and I miss you more than you know. I mean, I’m in the middle of doing press tours for the movie I was in and all I can think of is coming back home to you.”
You felt dumb for feeling the way you did. Jack was living his dream and you were worried about him forgetting you when all he ever did was shower you with love and affection. There was nothing to worry about. “I’m sorry,”
“I love you,” he said again and you smiled at him, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes, something he noticed. “We’re gonna be fine. I promise.”
You nodded and continued to listen to him go on about how much fun he was having with the cast before your friend texted you to let you know that she was here to pick you up.
The call ended on a good note. A great one, even.
Things were going well.
Until they weren’t.
-
The release of Scream VI hit Jack’s career hard and completely flipped his world around.
People absolutely adored Ethan and were infatuated with the face who played him. Jack went from a newcomer with a small fanbase to millions of people obsessing over him within the span of a few hours.
Of course, you were his plus one to the premiere, and you got emotional at the way he played his character, your hand wrapped around his. You thought back to what you were doing when he was filming it, still stuck in high school and thousands of miles away from him. This person on the screen was one you knew, you loved, and belonged to you.
That was something a few people didn’t seem to realize. After gaining over five hundred thousand followers, some of his fans stumbled across his posts with you. Long story short, your comments were filled with hate and jealousy and envy. You made your account private a couple of days after the film was released.
That didn’t stop them from filling his comments.
She’s mid fr.
She needs to get away from my man.
Ew.
You can do better.
God, people were brutal.
Jack had no knowledge of the harassment you were receiving, but how could he? He was busier than ever and was once again off doing interviews and press tours.
You were alone again.
You knew what would happen to your relationship when he became a big time actor. You were prepared. You would have to share him with the world, and you thought you were prepared for that.
But, honestly, who were you kidding?
And what made things worse was when he slowly stopped answering your texts.
He was busy, you got that, but he would go days without talking to you, some of which were his most active days on social media.
It shouldn’t be like this.
Just the other day you were scrolling on TikTok and one of his videos came up. You looked through the comments and saw that he answered one that asked if he had a girlfriend.
The simple ‘yes’ made you feel both annoyed and reassured. You weren’t sure where you stood with him, so knowing that he was still at least somewhat involved in the relationship was comforting. On the other hand, seriously, he can answer a stranger’s comment but not a text from his girlfriend of two years?
You felt like a burden at this point.
Days go by without a word from him and you were beginning to lose control over your emotions. Your eyes ached from all the crying you did behind closed doors, and your heart felt as if it was decaying each day you were left unanswered.
What excuse would he have if he ever decided to answer you? He got so busy that he forgot to check his texts? His phone number was leaked and he was bombarded with random messages to the point that yours were so far down?
That would make you happy, you think.
Anything but the alternative.
He forgot about you.
Or he forgot how to be a boyfriend.
Or how to be a decent fucking human being.
You weren’t sure what you were expecting when you got ready for your date with him. It was planned weeks ago, set for the day after he returned home.
Your texts went unanswered, but you got ready anyway.
This was a test - one you hoped he passed.
But, as the day turned into night with no sign of him, you felt the last piece of your heart break. You also felt the last piece of your self control snap.
He failed.
You grab your phone and click on his contact, not bothering to roll your eyes once you were sent to his voicemail. “Hey, it’s me. Um, you failed the test I gave you,” you say and quickly wipe away a tear that slipped down your face. “I don’t know what happened to us or what happened to you, but I’m…I’m done.”
You glance at your nightstand and pause when you see the framed picture of the two of you. If you could turn back time and go back to how things were at the time it was taken, you would in a heartbeat.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t enough for you, I really wish I was. You meant everything to me and I wish you kept your promise,” you continued to look at the picture as you thought of what else was left to say. “Good luck with everything. I wish you nothing but the best, and, yeah. I’m done. Goodbye.”
You hang up and toss your phone on your bed, grabbing the picture afterwards. You stare at it for a few more seconds, and slowly your sadness turns to rage.
Another second goes by before your hand moves and throws the frame across the room. It hits the wall opposite from you and you hear the glass shatter before it hits the ground.
#jack champion#jack champion x reader#jack champion imagine#jack champion imagines#scream 6 ethan#ethan scream 6#ethan landry x reader#ethan landry imagines#ethan landry#scream 6 x reader#scream 6 imagines#imagines#angst#fluff
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I slowly opened the door. My roommates had been acting weird the past few days, but I’d shrugged it off.
There, leaning against his desk on one side of the room was Carter. Sitting on Carter’s bed, one of the few places there were to sit in the room, was Myles.
“Uh… you needed me?” I looked up at Carter. His usually playful demeanour was slightly off. I looked at Myles to see if he had any clue what was going on but he seemed like his usual smiley self.
“Yes… what do you know about hypnosis?” Carter asked.
My face felt hot, and so, I bluffed.
“Not much. I think I saw it in some TV shows?” I felt my voice go higher than normal.
His eyes lit up in challenge.
“Do you believe in it?” He asked again. Myles seemed confused too.
“Not really, I mean. It’s kinda sci-fi, right?” I laughed it off - pushing down any thoughts of he knows he knows oh god he knows-
“Maybe. What about you, Myles? Do you believe in hypnosis?” Carter had a mischievous look in his eyes.
Myles brushed it off. “Nah, of course not. It’s like flying or telekinesis or something.”
Carter locked eyes with me.
“Wanna see a cool trick?” He asked, raising his fingers to snap.
“No!” I heard my own voice ring out.
There wasn’t any fear or attempt to stop this from Myles. Just confusion. From me, however?
I’d just given myself away.
Carter snapped and Myles’ head dropped instantly, rolling back and forth before settling in the centre of his chest.
Carter grinned wickedly.
“What did you do?!” I gasped, running over to him. “Myles? Can you hear me?”
No response.
“What did I do?” Carter asked, still not moving from where he was leaning. I kept one eye on him as I shook Myles, getting more desperate. “Why, the same thing I’m about to do to you.”
The statement echoed inside my head. Fear. Dread. Excitement.
I slowly turned to look at Carter.
“Myles, stand.” Carter ordered.
Myles’ eyes opened, half-lidded, mouth agape. He stood and I backed away from him.
“Good boy.” Carter praised.
I started to panic. Shit. Do I run for the door? Both of them are faster than me. Stronger than me too, probably. Why the fuck didn’t I run more or go to the gym or-
Myles mindlessly lunged for me. I scrambled to get away but faltered as the only direction of escape was right towards Carter.
He was waiting there. Watching. Smiling. As if it was all going exactly to plan.
Myles grabbed both of my arms. I’d backed into him in fear, recoiling from Carter at the last second. I struggled but, just as I’d thought, I couldn’t break free.
For the first time during this ordeal Carter stood up and approached us. I looked away, getting a full look at Myles’ blank face looking straight ahead, no matter how much I pleaded with him to just listen to me.
“I understand.” Carter cooed. “You don’t want to submit to me straight away. You like the chase. The struggle. But I know you want to give in to me…”
I looked at him defiantly. The wrong decision. Maybe if I’d thought more about it I’d have realised that was exactly what he wanted.
Carter’s eyes were deep, swirling, drawing me in.
I’d always found him attractive, but now? Now it was like I was losing myself in his eyes. My thoughts slowed. My heartbeat quickened.
I felt my head begin to bow. I tried to look away. Really, I did. But Myles’ hand grabbed my chin and forced my eyes forward once more.
Carter looked at me proudly, as if he’d ensnared his pray. He looked hungry. Cocking his head from side to side and eyes shining as I mirrored his movements.
I felt a smile slowly form on my lips. I was drowning, sinking into his eyes. At some point Myles let go of my arms and began massaging my shoulders. Deeper, deeper. He must’ve known my legs were too weak to run.
It was all so meticulously planned, like a checklist.
Lure me in? Check.
Use Myles to stop me from leaving? Check.
Send me deeper? Check.
Make me lose focus? Check.
Staring into those gorgeous eyes? Check.
As simple and as easy as 1.. 2.. 3…
“You’re doing great. Both of you. Oh the fun we’re going to have with two of you now…”
#good boys make more good toys what can I say#it’s one of the hottest hypnotic situations out there#hypnosis#hypnok1nk#mind control#brainwashing#hypnotized#mindfuck#watcher writes#watcher’s stories
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what it is to be hollow
soccer was a testament to kaiser's existence.
a file was given to you, withholding information about kaiser that probably only 5 people in the world knew.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
you argued to the man at your door, one last time, that forcing someone won't prove effective. neither would sessions for just about a month. it was a desperate measure on dark’s behalf.
your words were disregarded.
and kaiser couldn't play until he went to therapy for the entirety of a month.
–––
kaiser didn't like you.
he didn't understand how talking to a stranger was going to solve all of his “problems”– as the people around him liked to call it.
of course, he wasn't going to voice his dislike for you. he knows how to act in front in front of people– he knows how to keep an image.
acting must've run in the bloodline.
he just had to pretend he was well.
you would only see what he wanted you to see– he thought he had you wrapped around his finger.
this way, he still had some form of control.
but you only smiled.
you smiled like you knew exactly what was going through his head. like you knew what was going to happen. like you knew everything about him.
– – –
it was cold in your office.
your shelves were filled with books, board games, and art supplies.
there was a mirror beside your desk, and right next to it hung a painting: a fish about to be eaten by a shark.
you asked him about himself, basic things; things you already knew. you wanted him to speak though. but he stayed silent. right now, his goal was just to make it through the hour. to just wait it out. even if it wasn’t his choice to be here.
“i can’t help you if you don’t talk”
he didn’t have to choose to open up to you because his demeanor did so involuntarily.
the little glances; when his eyes would widen for a split second; when his knuckles would tighten from how tightly he held them in a fist– you saw it all.
this was very different from the kaiser you’d seen on tv. the one who carried himself like he ruled everything around him.
and yet, in front of your eyes was hollow-like shell of a man.
right now, maybe, kaiser wasn’t a "real" person. there was no sense of self within him. he was a mess of thoughts, memories, and sensations. whatever bit of “self” that existed within him was molded by everything he went through.
maybe in different circumstances, he would’ve resorted to his cocky attitude you’d see on tv and interviews.
knowing his background, you knew he wouldn’t be opening up soon. but if you both had to be here, some use must be made out of the time, right? that was your thought process, at least. you understood not everyone wanted help, even if it was evident that they needed it.
right now, what he has is an open wound. right now, all he’s been doing is pressing a bandaid over it– a piece of cloth, even and continuing a reckless path. he’s stepped over the steps he should be taking; disinfecting, stitching, and healing.
the unfelt emotions in him eat away at his wounds.
– – –
the hour passed by, mostly in silence. the sound of your keyboard interrupted the silence every now and then. through the corner of your eye, you kept an eye on him, watching for anything.
he left as soon as the clock read 5:00 pm.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
the following week, he was late by 20 minutes.
“you’re late.” you didn’t really care if he was late or not, but you wanted to get something out of it. “do these sessions get in the way of something?”
he glanced at you, “you know they don’t.”
and he’s right.
to him, this is a punishment– not being allowed to play until he’s done with this. he has nothing else to do, if not play.
i’ll make it work, he tells himself.
“i’m not here to change you, michael. there’s a difference between change and adaptation. i’m not here to judge you either. i can help you alleviate whatever you’re feeling. i can listen to you. i can give advice. but i also don’t make any decisions in your life. whether you like it or not, we are here for you.”
“my…” he trailed off, not finishing his sentence.
there was an indistinguishable expression on his face and you could almost see the way the gears twisted and turned inside his head.
he didn’t say anything about you going on a first-name basis, but he didn’t speak again, only staring at the floor, waiting for the hour to be over.
you looked at his file again.
he had a history with violence, which had you brainstorming techniques that could help with that. when agitated, there are two pathways you think he would choose.
the first is immediate violence.
the second is pushing the thoughts away. doing so aggressively will only cause them to slip through the cracks, and then resurge ten times worse.
“have you heard about compartmentalizing?” you were certain he hadn’t, but this is how you chose to proceed
you explained that when in a calmer state, he should attempt to visualize putting the thoughts in little boxes inside his head.
sure, the method wasn't perfect, and it couldn't be used forever, but it was a step forward
he thought it was stupid.
he thought it was as stupid as the fish painting on your wall, but then again maybe that wasn’t the best comparison since it did catch his eye after all.
another method: EFT
before he left, you handed him a brochure that highlighted how it works.
during EFT, individuals tap certain points on their body – similar to the points used during acupuncture, to send signals to the part of the brain that controls stress.
on the margins, you recommended the side of the palm and the collarbone– this was closest to his neck and his tattoo (roughly 2 inches below it).
when he skimmed over it on his way out, he assumed it was some sort of placebo bullshit.
he didn’t see how this was going to help him, but then again, he wasn’t seeing a lot of things.
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“ –the wound will never really be gone, but it won’t ache in the way it currently does.”
you were explaining how cooperation on his behalf will benefit him.
it was the third week, and there wasn’t much time left. you had been aware that a mere month wouldn’t be enough for effective progress, but you hadn’t expected time to pass so quickly.
here you were, unaware of whether anything you’ve said for the past few weeks has stuck to his head or not. you did know, though, that you’ve somehow gotten to proximity with the line which figuratively served as a barrier between you guys,
the next thing you asked would either bring progress or fuck up everything.
“a lot of people in your situation would decide to kill themselves” you started, “why haven't you?”
his head shot up, before going to its previous position. he thought he must’ve misheard you because what kind of person just asks that? sure, it did make him think, and– it made him think.
it made him think, which made him realize he had no answer. maybe he wouldn’t have said it out loud, but he would’ve had an answer in his head. why hasn’t he?
was it soccer? it had to be.
He lifted his gaze to look at you, and you were already looking at him. You smiled knowingly.
yeah, your office was cold, but you reeked of warmth– and he thinks if he knew what it was like to be human, he would relish in it.
the thought made him sick.
– – –
if he doesn’t believe it, it doesn’t exist.
that was why it was crucial to find a reason; if he wanted to be “human” that is. and he does. you could tell.
the next week, the last week, he was in your office, for probably the last time.
he never said it out loud, but he had a new goal.
the facade he once had– the mask he once wore, was fractured. it was what he sculpted throughout his time in bastard munchen. it was broken, as now his image has been stained.
but now, he will not only rebuild the mask, or build to cover the exterior, but rather build a skull, and a sternum; he will build what makes him physically human.
he will learn to function with his head, his heart, and his bones.
he finally engaged in conversation. you talked about hypotheticals and “what ifs” and turning them into reality.
if you didn’t care about that, then you wouldn’t be human
what you believe to be impossible– make it possible.
“you're alright, kaiser.” it's an observation. he wasn't sure what you meant by it. you think you weren't sure either.
you also see he truly is resilient.
he’s made it this far, after all.
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a/n: I tried not to make him too ooc... I envisioned him with the mindset he had when he was younger and was arrested,, where he looked like he'd completely given up on everything (so none of that cocky facade bs) I TRIED TO DO HIM JUSTICE.
taglist: @huaposh @bloodypaintersgf @gigiiiiislife @wishiknewwhatiwasdoingwithmylife
#bllk#bllk manga#blue lock#bllk x reader#bllk x you#blue lock anime#blue lock manga#bllk michael kaiser#kaiser#blue lock michael kaiser#michael kaiser#bllk kaiser#blue lock kaiser#michael kaiser x reader#kaiser x reader#kaiser x you#michael kaiser x you#blue lock x reader#blue lock x you#kaiser therapy#kaiser GETS THERAPY
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