#let! him! have his big house! with everyone! he loves!
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I guess it’s never really over
mechanic!steve x fem!reader exes to lovers
Chapter Four -
Honey, on your knees when you look at me
The consequences of your actions hang heavy around you neck when you wake up, so you go to the shop to tell Steve this is definitely not what he thinks it is.
warnings: 18+ slight angst, confused feelings, semi public smut, fingering (fem!receiving), oral (fem receiving), body worship, praise kink, unprotected p in v smut, cream pie, fluff.
wc: 10k
authors note: This chapter has been almost two months in the making between life and writers block, I didn’t think I would be here. Thank you to everyone who sent me messages about this story and about him because of you, I never gave up writing this series I was so excited about. beta’d by: @superblysubpar
series masterlist | series playlist
songs from the playlist that inspired this chapter: Unravel Me, If You Think I’m Pretty, Please Don’t Fall In Love With Me, Make Up, Eastside, Holy.
Streams of shining golden yellow make your lids still heavy with sleep flutter, lashes tickling the tops of your puffy cheeks as you surrender to the sun’s wishes to wake you up. The orange shag carpet in Robin’s living room slowly comes into focus, along with the rest of your surroundings as the ends of your palms rub the rest of the night from your eyes. Stretching your legs, they’re met with warmth like the rays of sunshine peeking through the blinds still lingering on the cushions next to you.
¨Shit.��
Your muscles freeze, threatening to cramp in your calf as the night floods back into your memories. How his plush pink lips slotted between yours like they should never be anywhere else, or how they made your back arch, kissing a messy path down your neck, perfect teeth nipping, threatening to bruise your delicate skin that lights up under his touch.
A shaky breath pushes out of your lungs as you shimmy your body deeper into the couch, fingers finding their way to your chest where you swear you can still feel his smile pressed into your skin, the tips of them hitting something smooth and warm.
A metal chain.
The weight of it around your neck finally registers through the sleepy fog that lifts from your brain. Looking down the slope of your nose, you nearly go cross-eyed when you’re met with the rich yellow gold that matches the sun, especially because It looks just like the one that belongs to Steve Harrington.
“No, no, no, no.”
The realization that it is in fact, Steve Harrington’s kicks in just like your feet in a silent fit, the thin throw he must’ve put on top of you before he left falling to the ground. You remember his plea for a date, and it has panic curling deep in your gut, the consequences of your actions arriving first thing in the morning before you’ve even had any coffee.
There’s a little bit of pride that hides in a small space in your chest that you didn’t just fold and say yes. Something you would have done in high school when he was giving you much less. Still, you didn’t say no. You were just prolonging the inevitable matter of letting him down right? It’s the self-respecting thing, it’s what you told yourself you’d always do.
Say no.
You twist the metal between your fingers, your eyes finding the dust particles that seem to float between the plastic of Robin’s blinds. There’s an ache in your heart at the fresh reminder of what it feels like to be held in his arms, something he rarely did when you were dating, at least not if it wasn’t the dead of night. The sleepovers at his big empty house were your favorite until you realized how sad it was. All his whispered secrets and deep confessions that he only shared when you were lit by the moonlight - the kind that hid all the stars in the sky and that boy he was trying to hide. The ones that kept you hanging onto hope until the last bit of rope tethering you to him, cut your skin. Those were the nights that really made you have to run.
You’re not sure if you could survive it again, and the end of August is only a distant friend. Pushing yourself off the couch, your eyes catch the bright bold numbers on the microwave that read 9:45 AM and you try to remember all the reasons you left in the first place. Not the way he looked at you last night in the kitchen making your best friend’s favorite snack.
Your flip-flops clack loudly against the hot pavement, the determination in your walk up to the shop threatening to set the street ablaze. The spaghetti strap sundress you threw on in a rush trying to be careful not to wake up Robin does very little to help cool you or your mood down when you’re met with the mugginess of the Midwest.
Steve’s chain bounces against your chest with each step, the gold shimmering against the sunlight in a pretty reminder that you still haven’t taken it off yet. One that you choose to ignore in your huff trying to think of all the mean things he's done and not the way he begged you to make it right.
Reaching the end of the block, you notice Eddie’s van is missing from the parking lot, leaving only Steve’s BMW against the side of the shop. It stops you dead in your tracks because the buffer that would stop you from making the same mistake isn’t there. Your proven lack of self-control only a few weeks into the summer has your confidence waver with nerves that try and get the best of you, but with a deep breath, you force your feet to keep moving.
Steve’s side of the garage is the only one open, the faded green metal door at half-mast to keep some of the sun away. Michael Jackson’s The Way You Make Me Feel bleeds out of the open space, bouncing and echoing off the cars inside, waking up the butterflies and sending them soaring. Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you try not to imagine the way he’s probably singing along, or that curl that won’t stay in place, falling over his forehead as he bobs his head to the beat.
Why is Eddie not here?
You see his black work boots first, then the legs that were intertwined with yours just a few hours ago, now adorned by blue coveralls. Walking across the grease-stained cement, he comes to an abrupt stop, and for a second you think maybe he sees you, heart thumping wildly in your chest until he shuffles back a few steps before continuing forward.
He was dancing and you hate the way the corners of your mouth twitch because of it.
The smell of oil is bittersweet hitting your nose as you stop in front of the opening, silently working up the courage to duck under the door. Steve doesn’t notice your sneaky entrance from where he stands at his workbench with his back facing you, completely lost in whatever’s on the paper he’s holding in black-stained hands. It gives you the few minutes you need to get your thoughts together as he bops his head to the music that’s loud enough to hide you a little bit longer.
Your gaze lands on Eddie’s empty office, successfully diminishing the last bit of hope you clung onto that maybe he just didn’t drive today, before your eyes catch the burnt orange of your car tucked away in the corner. A cherry red Corvette sits parked in front of it, making your face sour at the instant comparison. It outshines the car you scraped up enough money to get after moving to the city, sparking the kind of anger you’d been scrambling to cling onto walking up here. Maybe if your car hadn’t broken down, you wouldn’t have kissed Steve Harrington, and then maybe you wouldn’t be standing here secretly wanting to do it again.
Clinging to that notion with everything you have, you take a deep breath, straightening your posture before clearing your throat, letting him know he wasn’t by himself anymore.
”The music’s a little loud don’t you think?”
The pleased grin that spreads wide across your face can’t be stopped when the sound of your voice makes him jump with a ‘Jesus Christ’ so loud you can hear it over the music, crumbling the paper in his hands.
Point one - you.
Your victory is short-lived the moment Steve turns around with his ever changing brown eyes that are somehow warmer in the daylight, reflecting the flecks of green that shine and light up even more at the realization that it’s you and not some random intruder. He runs those long fingers through his hair, trying to tame the mess on top of his head that you made, while his heavy stare fixates on the chain still hanging off your neck. Right where he left it.
Leaning over to turn the volume down on his boombox, he doesn’t break eye contact, giving you that crooked smile that makes your heart skip a beat pushing up the two moles on his cheek. Raising his hands in a silent apology, you try not to think about how big they look or the way they grabbed at your hips last night. It's a fruitless effort, so you try to make up for it with a sassy tongue.
”Wow, I could have easily stolen one of these cars if I had wanted to.”
Crossing your arms, you suck at your teeth, deciding that standing right where you are is the best move, especially when you see the sweat that glistens, beading off of his tan skin, curling the coarse hairs on his chest that’s hardly hidden by the sheer white of his tank top. At least his coveralls are fully on this time.
“Maybe I should report you to Eddie.”
“Most of the cars in here don’t run,” Steve tuts, dark eyes roaming over your curves hugged tight by the soft cotton of your dress unashamed before meeting your narrowed gaze, “You of all people should know that.”
“Sounds like maybe you’re just bad at your job.”
You ignore the uncontrollable press of your thighs that only gets worse the more his smile widens with your attitude, reading your body language like his favorite book.
“Did you come here just to pick a fight?” Steve sighs, carding another hand through his hair, threatening to punch the air out of your lungs when he looks up at you through his lashes “Or do you just want another kiss?”
It’s impossible to sound out the word ‘no’ even though it’s just two letters because watching him lick his full bottom lip before tugging it between his perfect teeth makes you wish it was yours instead.
“Is that it baby?” Steve taunts, pushing himself off the work bench and tossing the crumbled paper aside.
”No,” you finally manage to get out, but the venom you had less than twenty-four hours ago is gone, and it barely stings when you try to deny with a jut of your chin and a quieter than intended, “That’s not why I’m here.”
The little bit of self-control you’ve been hanging onto with an iron grip starts to slip from in between your fingers with each heavy thud of his boots that bring you closer to your demise as he closes the gap.
”Are you sure?” He asks with a glint in the darkening russet of his eyes that land on the gold wrapped around your neck again, close enough now to smell last night's leftover cologne.
“A-absolutely,” you stutter, taking a few steps back, the clack of your flip flops echoing, making you wince with embarrassment as you try to counteract his advances only for your back to hit the cool metal of a pickup truck.
”Hmmm, I know what it must be then,” he hums, a faint hint of smirk twisting the corners of his full lips, big boots stopping with a scuff on the cement floor right in front of your pink painted toes.
Reaching up, his bold fingertips trace the smooth edges of his chain, rough calluses tickling your collar bone daring to explore a little more. The quick rising of your chest spurs him on as he tries to hold his composure, teasing the dip of your breasts, he curls his finger around the metal, lifting the chain a little before letting it fall back into place. Mischief twinkles in his stare that matches the same color staining his hands.
“You must be here to tell me when you’ll be ready for our date later tonight, huh baby?”
It takes your brain a second to catch up, the freckles that spread across his cheeks like wildfire in the light distracting you from this close.
“The opposite actually,” clearing your throat, you try to hide the way your tongue dries when he looks at you like this, “I’m here to say that whatever happened last night doesn’t change anything.”
The corners of his lips twitch, his gaze getting lost in the details of your features like you weren’t denying him, finally giving you the fuel you needed to make your blood simmer, the anger you thought you’d lost forever buzzing under your heated skin.
“So!” You snap your fingers in his face, interrupting whatever daydream he was getting lost in, getting the glare you were searching for, “You better get that out of your head right now. We’re not going on a date.”
Your words finally bite with a tone that almost seems final and for a minute it starts to feel like you have a semblance of your self-control back. Holding your head up high, you try to really end whatever started on your best friend's couch last night.
“We can be friendly for Robin’s sake, but it’s never going to happen again. I’m not your girl, Harrington.”
Steve rolls his tongue against the inside of his cheek, something you can’t quite put your finger on flashing behind the gold in his eyes. Leaning forward, his hand finds the chipped teal paint of the truck behind you. Caging you in, the spice of his cologne overwhelms you as it mixes with the heat in the garage, and the sweat glistening on his tan skin. The warmth of his breath fans across your cheeks that burn like they’re being licked by a flame, thighs pressing harshly under your dress as you try not to let his gaze swallow you whole.
“If that’s how you really feel, fine.” He says cooly, seemingly unphased and it makes your blood boil more. “I’ll take my chain back now then.”
“No.”
“No?” He snorts incredulously at your refusal, watching the way your fingers come up to play with it. Taunting him.
”I don’t even know why you put it on me in the first place,” you scoff with a roll of your eyes, channeling his nonchalance before ducking under his arm, your escape in sight.
You refuse to look back at him making a beeline to the open garage door, heart thumping wildly in your chest as you do your best not to give away the attachment you have to the weight of it around your neck that you really aren’t ready to unpack yet.
”I left it!” Steve yells hot on your heels, the cracks in his confident demeanor starting to show, “I left it so you didn’t think I just disappeared on you this morning because I personally have zero regrets about what happened last night.”
The sarcastic ‘HA!’ you let out is almost comical, picking up your pace with an extra sway to your hips because you know he’s staring.
”How about this, Steve?” You antagonize, turning around and walking backward with a smug grin that mirrors his from before, “I’ll think about it.”
Steve doesn’t take the bait, instead, he side-steps quickly to smash the round red button on the wall with a deadpan face. Letting the rumble of the garage door coming to life do all the talking for him.
”Are you serious?!“ You shriek, watching it close faster than your feet can carry you, even contemplating a tuck and roll when you see the sunlight and any chance you have at not going back on your promise start to disappear behind it.
“It’s simple honey,” he sighs with an irritated edge, “Give me my chain and I’ll open her back up so you can go run back to Robin’s and pretend like last night never happened. Just the way you want, right?”
”This is ridiculous. You’re ridiculous. Let me out asshole!”
A new level of stubbornness that you never thought you could reach locks you in place, facing him with arms crossed tight over your chest.
”I’m ridiculous?” Steve chuckles darkly, the steel toe of his boots echoing louder now that you’re sealed inside as he walks towards you, “Look at yourself.”
”What’s that supposed to mean?” You snap despite the way your teeth gnaw nervously on your bottom lip, greedy eyes roaming his tall frame as your body betrays you for what feels like the hundredth time today when he steps into your space again.
“I know you enjoyed drama club in high school, but you’ve always been a terrible actress.”
“And you’ve always had way more confidence than you should.”
Steve’s nostrils flare, his gaze threatening to set you on fire.
”I’m going to get back to work, you’re free to go whenever you give me my necklace back. I’m getting paid to be here all day baby, you aren’t, so just know that I’ve got time.” He holds your stare for a second longer, sucking at his teeth before turning around. Testing you.
“Come take it off me then, Harrington, if you want it so bad.”
Two can play that game.
He stops in his tracks, shoulders tensing at the implication of your words, turning his head to the side, he gives you a perfect view of his sharp jawline.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he warns, with a tone sharp enough to make your stomach flip.
“I said,” your shoulders square with a defiance that matches your glare, acting as if you aren’t sealing your fate with the next four words, “Come and get it.”
Steve’s long strides close the distance faster than you can comprehend. A big hand grabs at your hip, grease-stained fingers digging into your curves, while the other cups the side of your face, surely leaving a mark. He's getting what he really wants.
Gasping into his mouth, the force of his kiss sends a shudder through the garage door when your back slams against it. Lost in the sensation of his teeth nipping at your bottom lip, you barely notice. Your fingers weave through the thick locks of his hair at the nape of his neck as if they were always meant to be there. A harsh tug on the silky strands earns you a groan that's deeper than you remember, and you immediately want to hear it again.
The clash for dominance ignites as your tongues collide clumsily, teeth grazing and noses pressing into each other’s cheeks. His grip tightens on your hip in a warning before his hand trails down to where the bottom hem of your dress rests at the top of your thigh. Pushing up the thin fabric, the blunt tips of his nails skim across your soft skin, goosebumps pebbling despite the heat.
His fingers tease the edge of your panties, tracing the curve where they meet your ass, stealing your whine with a cocky grin that he kisses into your lips. He lingers just long enough to turn you needy before he hooks your knee around his waist, getting the instant roll of your hips and more of your little noises that will haunt his every waking thought after this.
“Steve,” you breathe, tugging your swollen bottom lip between your teeth while he starts kissing a slow, agonizing path down your jaw, tickling you with the stubble on his cheek.
He hums in between kisses, nipping at the sensitive spot behind your ear, he soothes it with a swipe of his tongue before he starts to suck–hard. Your moan bounces off the metal and concrete that surround you, echoing in your ears while your greedy fingers tug even harder at his roots. His grip on you tightens when you start to squirm as his efforts to mark what’s his intensify, leaving a bruise you’ll have to explain to Robin later.
”Yeah?” He mumbles against your heated skin, the tip of his nose running along your pulse point, a saccharine smile pressing into the curve of your neck where his chain still rests.
“Shut up,” you manage to get out, despite Steve leaving open-mouthed kisses on the swell of your breasts, palming roughly at the dough of your ass, encouraging another rock of your hips.
“You're always so mean to me, honey,” Steve sighs, nipping at the supple skin, before meeting your poor attempt at a glare from under the thick hood of his lashes.
”Yeah? And? What are you gonna do about it?” You bite, but it doesn’t sting the way you want it to, not with the way your chest heaves in anticipation of his next move.
Steve flips you around so quickly that the change in position has you gasping, your palms meeting the warm metal of the garage door that bakes in the sun outside. Heavy work boots push your legs apart, while hot breath that rivals the summer dances across the nape of your neck. He presses himself into you, letting you feel just how hard you really have him, the tip of his nose brushing along the shell of your ear. Butterflies multiply, tickling your rib cage just like your lashes that kiss the tops of your cheeks.
“I think it's pretty obvious what I want to do,” he whispers against your neck, lips ghosting across the freshly formed bruise, “The real question is…”
The backs of his fingers brush along the sides of your breasts, goosebumps pebbling across your skin. His big hands follow the curve of your waist, smoothing down to the tops of your thighs. Taking his time, he curls them under the hem of your dress, pulling it up to rest on top of your hips, still giving you the chance to stop him. One you don’t take.
“Are you gonna let me?” His words are gruff coming out next to your ear, your walls fluttering around nothing because of it.
The humid air doesn’t help your sticky thighs that only get worse as two of his calloused fingers trace agonizingly slow along the waistband of the only fabric separating you now. Peppering soft kisses to all the sensitive spots that make your skin come alive, his teeth nip playfully at your earlobe, fireworks lighting up in the sky behind your eyes when he takes it into the heat of his mouth. The sensation has you mewling, jaw going slack as your toes curl into the foam of your flip flops from a feeling only Steve Harrington can give.
”I could be so nice to you, baby,” he whispers, letting you go with a pop, his fingers daring to go lower than just teasing, smirking against your cheek at the gasp you give when he drags them through your slick folds, wrapping your hands around his wrist for support, your hips chase him for more. “Don’t you want that?”
Your pride has your teeth biting into your bottom lip. Refusing to answer his question loaded with too many double meanings for your head to wrap around right now, but you still spread yourself wider for him, because the last thing you want him to do is stop.
“Gonna make me earn it, huh?” He breathes, biting back his groan at how you start dripping down his hand, “That’s okay. I’ll show you I’m worthy.”
His promise is enough to finally draw out the moan you’ve been fighting, the sound making him kick up in his coveralls, while the movements of his wrist become more pointed. Your head lulls back against his broad shoulder, and his cologne smells even better with the way sweat starts to drip from his pores. Your eyes are needy, meeting the black coffee of his and you know it, especially at the furrow of his brows when he looks at you completely transfixed.
“God, I almost forgot how soft you are. How fucking wet you get for me.” He whispers between gritted teeth, awestruck at the feeling of your silk walls begging him for more, daring him to explore, “Bet you taste even sweeter than I remember too.”
Leaning down, he runs the tip of his nose along the bridge of yours, the mint that still lingers on his breath tickling your lips. Your hips roll with the rhythm of his wrist, warmth spreading across your cheeks as the sounds of just how wet you are echo in the big space. Too close to falling apart all over his fingers to care, the blunt ends of your nails dig half-crescent moons into his wrist chasing it.
“Baby, are you gonna come already? I’ve barely touched you.”
His words mock you despite the sugary sweetness they drip with, every swipe against your bundle of nerves becoming unrelenting, determined even. But it’s still enough for you to take the bait and force your eyes open, meeting his hungry stare dead on and say:
”Y- you wish it was that easy.”
Amusement dances across the hard lines of his face, his dark gaze narrowing before something between a laugh and a growl rumbles deep from his chest. The motions of his wrist come to a halt, and it takes everything inside of you not to cry in protest. Pulling his hand from your soaked panties, his wet fingers dig into your hips spinning you around, quick strides pushing you to the corvette that started your spiral.
“What are you doing?!” You squeal, your butt hitting the cherry-red metal of the hood that sticks to your sweat-slicked skin.
He just grins, the pearly whites of his teeth showing as grease-stained hands spread your knees apart enough for him to step between, leaving raven fingerprints in their wake before grabbing at your chin, he forces you to look at him.
“Need you to keep your eyes on me, honey, and remember what you just said.” He pulls your bottom lip down with the pad of his thumb, watching it pop back into place.
Letting go of your chin, he holds your stare, fingers ghosting across the tops of your thighs as he drops to his knees like someone praying to a god. Hooking his arms under your bent legs, he tugs you to the end of the hood with a squeak. Spread wide for him to see, your calves rest on top of his shoulders that you hate to admit you wish you could see. Leaning forward, the tip of his nose traces the wet path of your covered folds, breathing you in like the sweetest summer breeze.
When his big eyes meet yours from between your thighs, just begging you to get lost in them like you used to, it’s almost enough for you to forget the game you’re both supposed to be playing. There’s a softness that lingers inside melting caramel that manages to shine through the black that overpowers it, and you wonder if he can hear the way your heart threatens to beat out of your chest.
His touch is gentle now, long fingers curling around the waistband of your underwear, silently asking you for permission to cross the line that deep down you know there’s no going back from. Nodding your head with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth, you even help him, lifting your legs when he pulls them from around your ankles.
Steve stuffs the satin in his pocket ignoring the way you tell him that you want them back. His pink tongue that’s seconds away from being your undoing wets his lips, jaw going tight at the sight in front of him. Roses bloom on his tan cheeks, and he can’t help but run a hand through his hair, the reality setting in that he really has you like this. He looks completely wrecked. At least it isn’t just you.
“Fuck.” He breathes, the blunt ends of his nails digging into the dough of your thighs, shuffling himself even closer, his eyes glaze over.
Goosebumps pebble across your buzzing skin, your velvet walls fluttering around nothing as you lose the witty response you had saved on the tip of your tongue, managing just a quiet, “I thought you were supposed to show me somethin’?”
His lips twitch so close to where you need him most that you can almost feel the curve of them, your knees bending just a little more, urging him on by his shoulders.
“So impatient,” he tsks, the vibrations of his words only making it worse, “My girl needs me huh? She missed me as much as I missed her didn’t she?”
“Steve - shut uhhhhohmygod!”
His mouth latches onto your cunt like he’s thirsty for everything you’re offering him, collecting your dripping honey that’s sweet on his tongue. Running a broad stripe up your folds, his grip on your thighs tightens when you start to squirm, holding you in place, as he swirls messy circles on your bundle of nerves before sucking it hard enough for your head to fall back against the car. Your fingers bury themselves into the sweaty silk of his hair, pulling harshly at the roots, earning the kind of grunt that has you whimpering, dripping down the stubble on his chin as your hips buck up to meet him.
Letting you go with a loud pop, he huffs out a dark laugh at your whine, hardly giving you time to recover before pulling you even further down the hood of the car, till your ass hangs off the edge. The tip of his nose brushes against your sensitive clit while his tongue begins to tease your entrance that quivers just for him. The new angle has you practically sitting on his face, and before you have a chance to overthink it he slowly starts to work you open with his greedy mouth.
”Holy shit I -“ Your eyelids droop, jaw going slack as he starts to move side to side, licking into you like you’re the sweetest prize. His nose adds just the right amount of pressure while he eats you up like a man starved, “You’re gonna - fuck - Steve!”
His hands move from your thighs to the soft fat of your ass, encouraging your hips more, and if you weren’t so far gone, you’d be scared you’re suffocating him. You dare to look down at the scene between your legs, and it’s almost enough to have you cumming all over his face. His pitch-black eyes gaze up at you enamored, completely lost and still hungry because after all these years it’s still not enough. He moans into your folds when you meet his half-lidded stare, the sensation vibrating in all the right places, making your legs shake.
The feeling of your walls pulsing tight around his tongue, knowing how close you are already has him twitching painfully hard in his coveralls. It’s enough to ignore the discomfort of his knees, doubling down on the movements of his jaw. His name bounces off the metal and concrete, while the roll of your hips gets more and more aggressive because it feels like he’s eating you from the inside out, the tip of his tongue reaching the spot that makes you gasp.
“Right there, shit, right there, right there, I’m gonna, oh my god I’m gonna cum!”
Your scream is silent, body going rigid, giving into him already. The muscles in your legs tense, as your thighs squeeze tight around his head while your pussy tries to push him out but he only doubles down with a completely relentless tongue. He moans loud enough inside you to hear through the ringing in your ears, your fingers curling harshly in his thick locks, back hitting the metal of the hood again.
He ignores the first few pushes against his forehead when his kitten licks become too much before he finally listens. Sticky legs fall open releasing him from a trap he never asked to escape from, his shiny wet lips leaving kisses along your shaking thighs, tickling the supple skin with the stubble on his jaw. You feel his tongue dart out to collect everything he missed, earning the kind of sweet noises he can’t wait to hear all summer long.
Steve stands up wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and you try to be mad at his smug grin but your body can’t help its reaction to the way he struggles against his coveralls. The hard outline of dick reminds you of the stretch that you know will ruin you for anyone else, spent walls fluttering despite yourself.
”Now what was that you were saying a few minutes ago, pretty girl?” Leaning down, his palms find a new home on either side of your head.
The whites of his teeth shine at the eyeroll you find enough energy to give him, even with your legs wrapped around his waist. His nose nudges the tip of yours, the playful glint in his eyes changes into something lovesick and it brings the ache in your chest back because you know it’s going to hurt even worse walking away again.
“Hey, what’s going on up there?” He questions, placing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, eyebrows furrowing as he searches your face for answers.
You don’t give him one, pushing aside the worry for when you lay awake in the middle of the night. Instead, you let your fingers wrap themselves in the cotton of his tank top, pulling him to your lips that silently beg him to help you forget. He meets you with an eager mouth, and a big hand that comes up to rest on your flushed cheek. The pad of his thumb traces the high bone while his tongue asks you for permission for more.
Your thighs lock tighter around his waist, granting him the access he wants, tasting yourself all over him. Shaking fingers find the zipper of his jumper, tugging down the metal, he helps your shimmy off his sleeves. The freckles that dot his shoulders like the night sky beg you to open your eyes as the top of his coveralls fall to his sides, the rock of his hips making you say his name like it’s the sweetest thing.
“Want you,” you whisper with a nip at his bottom lip, ankles crossing at the two dips you know are on his lower back.
”Baby,” He groans, dropping his head down, burying it in the crook of your neck as you roll your pussy over the length of him that’s still covered by the navy blue material you can’t seem to get off fast enough.
He lets you do it a few more times before his hands find both your wrists, pinning them above your head, he peppers kisses along your jaw, letting his fingers glide down the length of your body, making sure to catch his chain still hanging off your neck as he stands back up. You finally get a good look at him, and the sight is enough to know the memory of today will be etched into the corners of your mind, just like the rest of them.
Pink cheeks still kissed by the sun, and dark chestnut hair that matches his eyes twist at its golden ends in an even bigger mess now on the top of his head. The thick thatch of it on his chest curling from the sweat that drips down his neck, leaving translucent patches along the white cotton of his tank top, teasing even more of him to your starving gaze. His uniform hangs low on his hips, giving you a glimpse of the waistband of his boxer briefs, making you tug your bottom lip between your teeth. He grabs at the sides of your thighs, his handsome face going kind.
“You came in here ready to tell me to fuck off,” he laughs softly, thumbs rubbing gentle circles, “I just need to know this is what you really want.”
His words tighten in your chest, forcing you to make a decision so that when you have no one else to blame but yourself when you lay awake in your apartment with a broken heart in the fall, you can’t hate him anymore.
“I really want it.”
The answer stumbles past your lips before you can think too hard about it, pulling the rest of your rucked up dress over your head, leaving you completely exposed for his heavy chocolate eyes to drink in. Despite the muggy heat of the garage, your nipples pebble under it, cheeks going hot because you always feel like the most beautiful girl in the world when Steve Harrington looks at you like this.
It’s all the encouragement he needs to let you go and do the same with his tank top, tossing it to the side before shoving the rest of his uniform down the tops of his thighs. Thick, long and heavy, your eyes widen as his hard length springs free, smacking against the happy trail at the bottom of his stomach. The pink tip leaks for you, shining with precum, while his big hand wraps around it, tugging a few times and making you drip more on the hood.
“I’ll go slow,” he coos, leaning down to capture your lips in something sweeter than the rest of them. “I know you can take it, honey.”
Nodding your head, you look up at him with glassy eyes, completely giving in, shutting off the part of your brain that’s telling you that you know better. Spreading your legs wider, his eyebrows marry in the middle of his forehead, cursing under his breath at the sight of you like this. He silently thanks whatever gods or girl that got Eddie sick, because this moment shatters any fantasies that have consumed his late nights.
He runs the length of his cock through your slick, spreading you apart around him, earning the kind of mewl that makes him twitch in his hand. Your back arches off the corvette when he does it again only this time with added pressure to your clit. Locking your legs around his waist, you make sure he doesn’t get away.
”So fuckin’ beautiful baby, Jesus Christ, look at you.” Steve grunts, lining himself up with your entrance, pushing just the tip into the tightening silk of your walls before both his hands find their way back to your hips, fingers digging into soft flesh. ”Wanna make you feel so good. You gonna let me?”
“Mmhmm,” you whimper a little high pitch and out of breath, letting go of all the control you’ve hung onto for the last five years with a dirty roll of your hips that begs to suck him in.
“Oh fuck, you’re still so - shit.” Steve practically whines, his jaw going hard with eyebrows that pinch together, trying to regain his composure from the way you pulse around him just nudging halfway in, the aftershocks of your first orgasm have you feeling every ridge of his cock, lighting your body up.
The stretch burns, your eyes rolling in the back of your head as flames lick deep in your gut from the feeling you’ll never get enough of. His calloused fingers grab at your chin, demanding your attention. Your lashes tickle the tops of your cheeks as you force them back open, only to find his face is closer now, both his palms landing on either side of your head, black iris’s threatening to drown you, holding your gaze with the kind of intensity that makes your heart palpitate.
”I want to look at you.” He breathes against your lips as one swift thrust has you completely filled up.
”Steve!”
Gasping into his mouth, it takes all of your strength to keep your eyes open, focusing on the imperfect circles of the chestnut freckles that explode across the bridge of his nose.
“Yeah?” He smirks, pressing his forehead against yours, the rough hair on his chest tickling the softness of your breasts, nipples pebbling as your arms wrap around his neck.
“It feels, you feel -“
A loud moan rumbles from the back of your throat when the tip of him hits the spot that makes your toes curl into the fat of his ass, pushing him even deeper, the ends of your nails dig pretty marks all over his shoulders.
“Tell me, baby. Tell me how good it feels.” He grunts, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth, the roll of his hips becoming a slow grind.
His pelvic bone hits your bundle of nerves just right while the tip of him bullies the spot that has your eyes threatening to close against his wishes, and it has you sounding like ‘Steve’ is the only word you’ve ever known. It’s a hazy mess inside your mind, especially when he looks at you like this. It’s worse than before, and you don’t know how you’re going to find your way back this time, something different inside of his gaze that you know is going to make it impossible.
”Missed you so much, so damn gorgeous angel, think about you all the time. All the fucking time.” Steve babbles, completely drunk off the way you flutter at his words, the angry facade you’ve been putting on crumbling around him as your body lets the truth come out.
The confession makes your chest tighten with all the unresolved feelings you’ve shoved down for so long, the ones you almost forgot were there until a few weeks ago. Fingers curling into the hair on the nape of his neck you lean up, capturing his lips to shut him up, rocking your hips to meet his thrust. He grunts into your mouth, cock twitching against your walls, eagerly licking into your mouth.
It’s easier to get lost in him without the reminder of what used to be, teeth scraping together as the kiss gets messier. The metal of the car crunches and bends under your movements, but neither one of you can find it in you to care with noses pressing into each other's cheeks, tongues fighting for the kind of dominance your hips are at war about.
Steve is the one that breaks first, coming up for air, with eyes that seem even darker than before as he pushes himself up to stand. Big hands grab at your hips as a loose strand of hair falls across his forehead. Pulling halfway out, he takes a moment to admire the sheen you coat him, pink tongue darting out to lick his swollen lips before shoving himself all the way back in.
”Oh my god!” You gasp, throwing your head back against the hood, your hands landing on top of his, fingernails digging into the tops of them.
“I wanna watch you cum again, can you do that for me, baby?” He tugs you closer, your body squeaking across the metal that tries to stick to your skin, the tip of him hitting that spot again.
Nodding your head, every hard thrust of his hips echoes through the garage, the car shaking underneath you as tires threaten to roll. He feels himself getting close, the pad of his thumb finding your clit to rub the kind of messy circles that have you saying his name just how he likes.
“Come on, let me see how pretty you can get, let me have it.” He coos, finding the perfect combination to make you come undone all over him.
Your walls clench hard enough to try and push him out but he just buries himself deeper, a loud groan rumbling from his chest watching the way your face contorts with pleasure. White dances behind your heavy lids that squeeze shut as your legs start to shake around his waist. You try to shove his hand away, but he refuses, remaining relentless, milking your second orgasm for everything it's worth, making you cum even harder.
“Yeah, that’s it, that’s iiiiit, so fuckin’ good for me.” He praises, completely lost in the way your body responds to him and it’s enough to send him flying over the edge he’d been teetering on since had you against the garage door.
A string of curse words falls pretty from his lips, twitching hard inside you and with the last bit of strength you have, you squeeze him even tighter, relishing in the way his jaw goes slack because of it. The movements of his thumb finally end its assault so he can grab onto your sides with both hands, fingers digging bruises as one last hard thrust has his warmth filling you up.
The feeling of being so full sends your body buzzing, watching him fall apart on top of you with sweat dripping off the ends of his hair. His head drops between his shoulders, body shaking as his orgasm rakes through him. Red cheeks and skin so warm it rivals the sun, he lets himself collapse on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck totally spent, still chasing his high with a slow circle of his hips.
Your nose finds its way into his damp hair, inhaling deeply because it somehow smells even better than before. You wrap your arms around his shoulders even though you know you should leave and forget this ever happened, but it feels too good to have hands sliding up your curves as he starts to drip out of you and onto the car.
“God, Eddie’s going to kill me.” He mumbles against your skin, making you squirm because it tickles, and you can feel him smile because of it.
“How’s he gonna find out?” You giggle, the metal of the Corvette popping under your shifting weight.
”Baby.” Steve snorts, leaving a kiss on the curve of your jaw before pushing himself up on his elbows, the endearment falling too easily off his tongue in a casual way, reminding you very quickly of your reality.
It’s harder to meet his eyes that search for yours, but you do anyway. They’re warm again, like a dark sand beach and it's hard not to want to lay out a towel and live inside them. Both of you wince as he pulls himself out, cursing under his breath at your walls staying greedy and trying to pull him back in.
He doesn’t notice the shift in your demeanor pulling up his coveralls and tying the sleeves around his waist, or if he does he chooses to ignore it, grabbing your dress off the floor before offering you his hand. There’s less grease staining them now and you know it's because it's all over you, completely marked by him nearly head to toe whether you like it or not.
Sliding your hand in his, you duck your head down as you take it, legs wobbling when your feet hit the ground, not missing the smug grin that pushes up his cheeks clocking it. You go for your dress but Steve just tuts at you pulling it out of reach, ignoring your scoff he shakes it out before lifting it above your head signaling for you to put your arms up. Rolling your eyes with a smile you can’t fight, you pretend not to feel the butterfly wings tickling your ribcage, turning around and doing as he asks, letting him drag the soft cotton down your body. Calloused fingertips tracing the goosebumps they create.
”Let’s go get cleaned up in the bathroom,” he hums softly, grabbing you by the hips, and pressing a kiss into the fresh bruise behind your ear.
You tell yourself you’ll leave after this letting him guide you by the waist and a chin on your shoulder. You think it again when the small space of the bathroom is filled with giggles and bashful smiles as he sits you on the closed toilet seat, wetting paper towels that turn into mache in his hands. You scream at yourself to do it watching him try and fix his hair in the mirror after wiping you down the best he can, pressing kisses on both your kneecaps.
“I’ve been using this new product, but nothing hits like Farrah. I can’t believe they discontinued it. Dustin swears he can find me some, but who knows if you can even trust it’s the real deal, you know?”
Steve interrupts your inner turmoil with a face that’s far too serious for the words that just left his mouth and the thoughts running through your head. Your mood shifts almost instantly with a laugh loud enough to turn his cheeks the color of your toes, giving you an exaggerated eye roll despite the twitch of his lips.
“I can’t believe you still hang out with a middle schooler.” You tease, getting up on your feet, legs feeling a little less like jello but the reminder between your thighs only seems to intensify.
”I told you he’s like 19 - “
”Whatever you gotta tell yourself, Steve,” you grin, taking the break in the intensity of everything to try and work up the self-control to leave, wincing at the echoing clack of your flip flops that give you away instantly.
”Wait, where are you going?” Steve’s brows furrow in confusion, turning around to face you, he tightens the sleeves wrapped around his waist, biceps flexing while all the playfulness drains from his eyes.
”I should go before Robin -“
”What? No, she’ll be fine, it’s like noon. I’m sure she’s not even awake yet.”
“Steve.”
”Honey.”
The two of you face off in a silent challenge, stares unwavering, mimicking each other with arms crossover over your chests.
“Don’t run again.” He pleads with a whisper that’s barely audible against the beating of your heart in your ears, the room feeling smaller.
“I’m not running, I’m walking.” You try to lighten the mood with a joke, the corners of your eyes stinging but you refuse to acknowledge why.
”I’m not letting you walk home.”
“It’s down the road-“
“I don’t care! You’re not walking. Let me close up and then I’ll at least drive you.”
You don’t argue with the hurt expression on his face, you can’t.
It’s somehow even hotter outside when the two of you sneak out the side door of the garage. A different kind of tension hangs thick in the air putting the humidity to shame, even with the sun shimmering from the highest point in the sky. His skin glows like liquid gold in its rays as he walks in front of you, your eyes following the movements of his freckled shoulders that flex with every swing on his arms. Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you hate the pit that settles deep in your gut because you don’t want to say goodbye just yet. Another consequence of a choice you made rearing its ugly head.
You aren’t expecting him to open the passenger door for you, the metal creaking loudly breaking a silence that’s filled with a thousand unspoken words just hanging on the tip of both of your tongues waiting to fill up the space. His gaze meets yours from under the thick length of his lashes, the corners of his lips twisting at the way you get bashful from the gesture.
”Thanks,” you whisper, catching a whiff of his cologne as you duck into the passenger seat that’s starting to feel like yours again.
He just hums in response, shutting it quickly and trapping you inside a metal box filled with every smell that reminds you of him. It pulls at your heart, and intensifies the burn between your thighs. Your fingers come up to twist the metal that still dangles from your neck, and you’re not sure you can bring yourself to give it back after this. The already small space of the car shrinks even more when the driver side door opens and he slides in next to you with a huff, keys jingling loudly in his hand closing the door behind him.
His shoulders brush with yours shoving the keys in the ignition, the seat vibrating underneath you as the beemer quietly roars to life. He keeps his hand on the stick shift, sweat slick skin pressing into yours shifting the car into drive. The radio isn’t as loud as you thought it’d be considering the way he was blasting it in the shop. Meatloaf’s I’d Do Anything For Love spills out of the speakers and you try not to laugh at the irony, scrambling to think of what to say to him as Robin’s apartment complex quickly comes into view.
But he never stops.
“Steve, what are you doing?” You sigh, crossing your arms across your chest watching the baby blue paneling of her apartments whiz past.
“This is technically my lunch break, and I’m hungry.” He shrugs, glancing at you with something mischievous in his eyes that you want to smack away because it makes your heart skip a beat, “You’re telling me you’re not starving after that honey?”
Smacking your lips together, you roll your eyes as hard as you can, trying to hide the smile that pushes up your cheeks.
“Wow, your confidence always just astounds me.” Shaking your head, your sarcastic laugh only makes him grin.
”I think you like it.”
You can’t bring yourself to deny it, fluttering your lashes at him with an attitude instead.
”But if you really can’t stand the thought of spending like another hour with me, I’ll turn around right now, honey.” You know he means it, feeling his foot slowly press on the brake in anticipation for your answer, “Just say the words.”
‘Say it, say turn around Steve.’
“Take me somewhere with fries.”
When you left Robin’s house this morning, you didn’t think watching Steve juggle two shakes and a large order of fries to the booth you’re sitting at with a heart so full it threatens to crack your chest, was where you’d end up at. His cheeks flush a deep shade red almost losing his footing, lovesick eyes too busy staring at you to watch where his boots land.
God, this was not a part of the plan.
“I got you strawberry,” his grin is proud, remembering your favorite from high school when he drops your cool treat in front of you, and instead of sliding into the seats across the table, he plops down into the spot right next to you, knees bumping underneath the wood.
“What if I wanted chocolate?” You tease, body turning into a lit match pressing into his side.
“That’s what I got, and maybe, if you ask nicely,” he breathes, leaning in close enough for the tips of your noses to brush, “I’ll share.”
You wonder if he can hear the way you swallow at his tone over that oldies station that plays in the Hawkins Diner.
“No thanks, you can keep your cooties.” Sighing, you have to fight the twitch of your lips tearing your eyes away from him to focus on the fried potatoes in front of you.
”I think it’s a little late for that baby, I’m afraid you’re completely covered in them.” He doesn’t hesitate to press a sloppy kiss on your cheek that's loud enough to catch the attention of the girls that’d been staring at him since the two of you walked in.
”Steve!” You try to scold, but the smile that spreads across your face gives you up, even if you wipe the kiss away with the back of your hand.
”What?” He smirks, grabbing a few fries and plopping them in his mouth and you try not to focus on the way his tongue darks out to collect the salt left over on his lips.
“I can’t stand you.”
It’s impossible to keep a straight face around him, even avoiding the playful gold that swirls in his gaze that hasn’t stopped showering you with adoration.
“Whatever you have to tell yourself to sleep better at night.” He shrugs, taking a big swig of his shake, subtly scooting closer so your thighs touch.
The two of you eat in a peaceful silence for a few minutes, your head swimming with questions as your morning starts to really sink in. But your nerves make it impossible to focus on just one, especially every time you fingers brush, catching his small smirk from the corner of your eyes.
”So tell me something,” you try, ignoring the slight shake in your voice, “How did Steve Harrington, ‘king of Hawkins’, become a mechanic? I always thought you’d be in some big office with a suit working for your dad.”
You notice the sour look that contorts the handsome features on his face at the former nickname again and you immediately feel bad for saying it. His thick eyebrows furrow, marrying in the middle as he tries to shake it off with a few harsh blinks grabbing another handful of fries.
”Umm, I did work for my dad’s firm for like six months actually.” He confesses, clearing his throat before tossing them into his mouth. “I think we hate each other even more now.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude that's not why I asked -“
”Honey, you’re fine.” He smiles warmly, a big palm finding the top of our thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze before letting it occupy the space permanently.
”Turns out I’m a terrible office manager. I’d get super overwhelmed, which made me disorganized and we’d lose clients making my dad pissed, then one day I just kinda snapped after he laid into me in his office. Had a panic attack and then never showed my face there again.”
”Steve-“
“I knew he was going to fire me anyway, it’s fine” he laughs, running his free hand through his hair, the other sliding down your thigh so his thumb can rub circles into the soft skin next to your knee cap.
“So I wallowed in self pity for a month before Eddie started needing help at the shop. At first it just gave me something to do, he’d teach me a few things and turns out, I’m actually pretty good at it. It honestly feels really fucking freeing to stop being the person everyone expected me to be.”
He smiles with all his teeth, the kind of pride radiating off of him that makes the hard brick wall you’ve built around yourself start to soften, cracks forming in its foundation.
”Well, it looks good on you Harrington.” You have to look away when you say it, the butterflies becoming unbearable, because you weren’t supposed to feel like this. “I guess.”
He snorts at your stubbornness, bumping shoulders with you before snatching your strawberry shake earning the kind of glare that makes him realize he’s never going to get over you.
Steve’s one hour lunch turns into two, almost becoming three getting lost in the kind of conversation that barely scratches the surface of everything you’ve missed. It’s all hushed tones, sweet eyes, and linked fingers that threaten to make you fold again, with the only thing saving you is the reminder of the mess you made on top of his client's Corvette, and Steve reluctantly admitting he needed to leave so he didn’t actually lose his job in the morning.
It didn’t matter though, he got his date.
And when he pulls up to Robin’s he doesn’t hesitate to steal your breath away, grabbing you by the chin, giving you the kind of kiss over the center console that leaves you dizzy, just like in high school. He doesn’t ask for his chain back, and you don’t offer it, bounding up the stairs to the apartment with it shimmering against your chest.
🌻chapter five
#my writing#steve harrington#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x reader smut#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington fic#steve harrington x y/n#mechanic!steve#mechanic!eddie
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Omg the jock is so cute I was wondering if maybe we could get a scenario thing we're maybe reader and jock are at a diner on a hot summer night just chilling idk how you want to interpret that but I love your writing so far ♥️
TW: YANDERE THEMES BUT NOT REALLY SHOWN. LUCAS IS A GOOD BOY
A/N: I immediately thought of like a small town in the 50s or 60s when I read this lol.
READ LUCAS' HEADCANONS HERE
Thanks for the ask!
The heatwave that settled over the town had everyone abandoning their houses in favor of hanging out at the lake or starting up their barbeques. You, on the other hand, were heading to a date with a certain someone that evening.
"Y/N! Y/N! Over here!"
You had barely even stepped into the diner when you were swept into a bear hug. You didn't even have to guess who it was, by the way your feet completely stopped touching the ground.
"Hi Lucas," you said wearily. The star football player grinned at you, eyes bright from beneath shaggy, golden curls. You snorted and ruffled his hair. "You doofus, didn't I tell you to get a haircut after practice today?"
Lucas pouted. "I wanted to get here before you did. Look, I got us a booth! You said you like booths so I got us one!"
"Yes, I can see that. Thank you, Lucas." You sighed as he dragged you to a seat at the back of the diner, where the crowd was thinner. Lucas squished himself next to you, instead of opposite, rendering the booth pointless. You didn't mind anyway, as you were used to Lucas doing this.
"What can I get you lovebirds today?" the waitress asked, giving the two of you a grin. You smiled back at her. She had always been kind to you and had on more than one occasion, smacked Lucas with a newspaper for trying to makeout with you in the diner. She playfully glared at him and he stuck his tongue out at her, hugging you closer.
"Hey, Donna. Can we just get two milkshakes and some fries?" You asked, ignoring the way Lucas buried his head in your neck.
"Sure thing, hon." Donna walked away to place your order and you patted your boyfriends head gently. Honestly, it was too hot for his shenanigans. You let him stay like that for a while, though. As much as you refused to say it out loud, sometimes you really enjoyed being smothered by Lucas. It was comforting, like a heavy weighted blanket draped on top of you.
Lucas sighed happily as you combed a hand through his curls. "I thought you said you like when my hair gets long? I was growing it out for you."
"I love your hair, short or long, baby," you said. "But not when it gets in your eyes. If you fumble on the field again, I think Coach is gonna get his scissors and hunt you down to cut it himself."
"You love me?" Unfortunately, everything else you just said was obsolete to this boy. "You mean that, don't you?"
"Of course she does," Donna chimed in, holding a tray of your food. "There has to be a reason she would put up with you slobbering all over her."
"Thanks, Donna. Um-there's only one milkshake?" you questioned.
"Yeah, and two straws." She winked at Lucas. "Enjoy!"
Lucas beamed and immediately stuck the straws into the frothy drink, looking at you with such hopeful eyes, you couldn't do anything but sigh and lean forward to drink. You had to admit, the cold drink was just what you needed to stave of some of the heat of the day. Your eyes fluttered close as you savored the sweet taste.
When you opened them, Lucas's big brown eyes stared back at you.
"What is it this time, Lucas?" you asked with a huff.
"You're just so pretty." He smiled sweetly, the big dope. "I like looking at you."
You and you smacked his arm, though it hurt you more than it probably hurt him. "You're such a sap."
"A sap for you, honeybun~"
"I said don't call me that in public!"
"But whyyyy?"
You stuffed fries into his mouth to shut him up, giggling at his puffed out cheeks. He begged you for more and you rolled your eyes but relented. Sometimes saying no to Lucas was like kicking a puppy, there was no logical reason to. You could practically see his tail wagging as he ate greasy diner fries form your hand, licking your fingers clean.
"Let's go home," he whispered softly when all the fries were gone. The look in his eyes was so intense you grew flustered. Lucas grinned and tossed a few bills on the table, pulling you out of the booth.
You called out a hasty goodbye to Donna and she smiled at the both of you from behind the counter. There was something odd about that boy and the way he looked at you. But then again, who was she too stand in the way of young love?
The night hadn't gotten much cooler, but there was a little breeze stirring up the heat. The smell of grilled meat and distant laughter told that people were still enjoying their evening. You would have to swing by to your neighbor's house later. He always saved leftovers from his barbeque for you and Lucas.
Lucas held your hand tightly as usual. He didn't seem to be in a rush like he was on other nights. "What's on your mind?" you asked, swinging your hands back and forth.
"You."
Shocker. You laughed and shook your head in disbelief. "I can't always be on your mind, dummy." He glanced at you in confusion.
"Why not? You're the best thing that ever happened to me!"
You stopped walking and stared at him. He tilted his head, the action making his curls fall into his eyes again. "What's wrong, honeybun?"
The stupid nickname, the shaggy hair, the dumb, sweet smiles. Everything about Lucas that you once thought was annoying, now made you smile about your boyfriend. This was bad.
He yelped when you suddenly dragged him down by his collar to mash your mouths together but soon reciprocated the kiss happily. When you released him, his face was flushed with another stupid grin plastered over it.
"What was that for? Not that I'm complaining!"
"Nothing," you hummed, linking your fingers again. You would have to get the leftovers later, it seemed. You had plans for your boyfriend that night. "Nothing at all, baby~"
A/N: Everyone seems to love Lucas! And I don't blame you, he's the sweetest boy. Thanks for the support! If you enjoyed this, leave a like, comment and reblog. My asks are open though I might not reply to them immediately, I will try to reply to all.
#obsessive love#obsessive yandere#yandere#yandere boyfriend#writers on tumblr#fanfic#yandere jock#jock#golden retriver boyfriend#yandere boy#yandere male#male yandere#soft yandere#yandere x female reader#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x darling#yandere x y/n#yandere x#yandere imagines#yandere headcanons#yandere fic
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The landing | joel miller x f!reader, 13.2k
Summary: You feel him before you see him. He’s still taking up space in your micro-universe. His sole presence creates ripples through the atmosphere as he walks towards you, softly nudging you to turn your head from your spot to look behind you.
Or
The one where your orbits finally collide for the final showdown.
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, NO SPOILER (read A/N), ANGST, cheater!joel, discussions of infidelity, mention of food consumption, yelling, crying, the briefest mention of smut thoughts, sprinkle of fluff (blink and you'll miss it), as always let me know if I missed anything 👀
A/N: Ok, *deep breath* I know I can't make everyone happy unless I write alternate endings 😅 and I understand that infidelity can be a very triggering concept. I gave them the ending I felt they both deserved, but if you're looking for a story where they are at each other's throats for 13k words, maybe this is not for you and you are more than welcome to kindly move on.
I won't spoil the ending in the Warnings, so proceed with caution, you know what the main theme is all about. All I can tell you is that this part of the story is divided into two main scenes because I didn't want to drag it out with one little scene after another. *she says after spilling 13k words🙄sorry about that👀*
As always, I would love to read your thoughts on the last part and please keep in mind that writing is almost always self-indulgent.
P.S. I want to thank each and every one of you for the love I received for this mini-series, I never thought it would engage so many people. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. You've all been so kind and sweet to me, so this journey filled my heart with joy!
I love you all, take care of yourselves and I'll see you -hopefully- in the comments!
Oh! My asks are always open if you want to know more about their story. I could even write drabbles or one-shots about anything you'd like to know in particular. Ily, bye 😘
P.S. I deliberately left the last two lines without clarification of who says what, I leave that up to you. 🤍
Dividers by @cafekitsune @saradika-graphics @plum98
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FOUR YEARS AFTER THE FALL
Are you still falling?
You’re not sure anymore. Maybe you’re just used to it. Or maybe you just learned how to fly. It certainly feels like everything has slowed down. Sometimes it feels like floating. As if you’re a feather, so lightweight, swirling around aimlessly. But you can never touch the ground. Gravity can’t quite pull you down. Every time you feel like you’re finally landing, a force of nature pulls you back up.
Maybe it is a soft, warm, summer breeze, a memory of Joel.
Maybe it is a whirlwind, a contact from the lawyers.
Maybe it is a snowstorm, sign the papers, please.
Maybe it is the whispering of a gentle wind, the possibilities of what might have been, or the lack of real closure.
But it’s nice here. Even between the earth and the sky.
You never thought you’d enjoy leaving the big city and making a home for yourself on a ranch. But you loved it. You loved the peace and quiet, you loved this new community of people, you loved taking care of the horses, riding them, being around them. And then there was the house. A place you could almost call home. It was beautiful, rustic, warm, inviting, lacking none of the comforts a modern house needs, because you can’t quite get the big city girl out of you. The entire land had a soft, yellow-golden light enveloping every tree and every rock, everywhere your eyes reached, as if the sun shone differently here.
The days are easy. The chores are more than enough to keep you focused, there’s always something to do around here. It feels good to be busy, to keep your mind from dwelling on the past. You welcome the exhaustion of a full day’s work that accompanies your body when night comes.
Evenings are mostly good. You shower the day off, you cook, you chill on the couch with a good book or a film and more often than not, as the time passes and you feel more comfortable sharing the privacy of your home, you have friends over for dinner and drinks.
Nights though, nights are hard. At night, you pray that you are tired to the point of exhaustion so that you can sleep through it peacefully. Sometimes it works, but most of the time, not so much.
Time has intensified and lessened your emotional burden simultaneously.
The sharp pain that feels like thick acid being poured into you mellows in an inexplicable way. It still hurts, the pain oozing out of your every single pore even in a physical way. Only now, it has transformed into a sweet, slow poison conquering every hollow of your body, every vein leading from your heart to the ends of your limbs.
It’s almost a welcoming feeling, this pain, reminding you that you’re still alive, that he was real, that everything that happened was real. Because sometimes, sometimes, when you let yourself relax, when you let your guard down, all of this feels like a dream. Sometimes, you wake up in the middle of the night, confused, reaching with your hand for the other side of the bed and finding it empty. And for a split second you get that feeling. The feeling of how it used to be with him next to you.
Then you remember.
You know why this is happening and who’s responsible for it. This is a mix-up. This is what your treacherous brain does to mess with your resolve. It blends the bad stuff into the good, creating the strangest of concoctions. The clear image of black and white, neatly and perfectly hung in the center of the walls of your mind is now splashed with colorful memories from your life together, like a Pollock painting. You do your best to resist, to bring back scenes from all the vivid recollections of the night your life changed forever but your uncooperative brain pops another memory up, a good fuckin’ memory, like a projector, illuminating those bare imaginary walls with laughter and touches and whispers and scents and warmth. It’s relentless.
This dichotomy creates an uneasiness inside you, you choose to reject and pretend not to notice. Which in turn leads to self-contempt because, as always you can’t lie to yourself. You may lie to others but deep in your core you have to be honest with yourself. That is something you’re owed. To be aware, present in the reality of your life. So, you know, you know, you just sweep things under the carpet as a copy mechanism. You know what you should do.
You should confront him. You should demand answers and then finally say what you need to say to him. Not for him, not for his sake, but for yours. But you can’t. You've lost count of how many times you've picked up the phone and your thumb hovered over his contact to call him but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. And every time you tried to text him, to start a conversation, it felt too awkward. The only acceptable subject of discussion initiated by you was the progress of the divorce papers. You were unable to even remotely insinuate a more meaningful encounter. And he didn’t make any advances either. Not that you gave him any room to try and talk to you, but still, he seemed more settled with that, rather than not.
Maybe that fact itself was your cue to let it all go. He’s probably moved on. You don’t cheat on someone so blatantly and then want them back. Obviously, this whole delaying of the divorce is a power play, like everything else, it seems.
Good, yeah, that’s it. That’s it.
Now, let go. Move on. You solved it. Let go.
But this annoying little voice is scratching the walls of your weary brain, nudging the limits of the carefully made up serenity that’s hanging by a thread.
You should confront him. For your peace of mind, for your equilibrium.
But it’s nice here. Even between the earth and the sky.
Joel, will you please sign the papers?
It’s early in the evening and you’re in the garden in front of the house near the porch, on your knees, plucking a few weeds from the ground. The fatigue of the day’s work has begun to take its toll on you, your shoulder is slightly trembling as you rest your weight on one palm to dig around with the other. Sweat covers your torso, rolling down between the valley of your breasts and the hollow between your spine, leaving your t-shirt clinging to your skin, your hair sticking to your forehead, which is lightly covered in a thin layer of dirt at some places as you keep wiping your forearm over the little beads of salty water that concentrate over your brows.
You feel him before you see him. He’s still taking up space in your micro-universe. His sole presence creates ripples through the atmosphere as he walks towards you, softly nudging you to turn your head from your spot to look behind you.
There's an overload of sensations before you shift your body around to confirm what you already know in your bones. You can smell him, taste him, feel him on your suddenly tingling skin, all at the same time.
You turn slowly and your breath hitches on your throat. You just stay in place, frozen, time infinitely stretching as you take him in from where you kneel on the ground. He stops abruptly the second his eyes meet yours and you could swear he’s holding his breath, his face completely unreadable.
He looks.. he looks like your Joel and nothing like him simultaneously. Soft yet imposing. Handsome yet battered. Determined yet lost. His clothing is simpler, dark jeans, green flannel over a black t-shirt and laced boots, as if he just returned from a working site. His curls are longer, framing his handsome face in a ridiculously good way, more white hairs nestle in his beard that is not that trimmed. Neither of you speak quite yet, taking each other in.
Your mind, your bizarre, ridiculous mind is working on figuring out what day it is. Why does it matter? Did you have an appointment? This is unexpected and a long time coming all at once, regardless of the day of the week. What comes next? Do you draw up an astrological map to determine if it's a compatible date for you to meet? Get it together.
Your facial expression must be pretty funny because Joel smiles awkwardly while scratching one side of his bearded cheek; hey, it’s me.
No, shit, you mentally respond, as if you could ever forget him. Furious is the word that best describes you because these are his first words? Hey, it’s me? And that feeling escalates into an explosive retort because you now realize that you had expectations. His first words? Who cares what his first words are? Were you expecting a tearful reunion, masterfully staged and executed like a romantic film? The guy betrayed you in your own house, sorry, his house. Wake the fuck up.
“Did you sign the papers?” you spit as you rise from your spot and he reacts as if you have punched him in the stomach. His face falls; you see a series of micro-expressions pass over his features before he settles on the last one. Has he been hurt? Did you hurt his feelings? Did he also have expectations?
“Uh-”, Joel raises his brows in genuine surprise, things probably not going the way he expected or hoped.
“It’s nice to see you, too.”, he replies with mild mockery.
Your eyes snap shut and you laugh in anger, lowering your chin to your chest and then looking back up at him, your eyes blazing, your brows mimicking his previously surprised expression, “Are you serious right now?” you cross your hands defensively over your chest.
You stare at each other for a good minute, both of you taking a moment to compose yourselves and regain your balance.
You break first, dropping your head back to your chest, looking down at the heel of your shoe scraping the ground beneath you, exhaling audibly.
“Hey,” Joel tries again, after speaking your name tenderly, your name on his lips, his head dipping down and to the side to try and get your attention back to him, his gaze filled with a mixture of warmth, regret and fear, “hi.”
You shake your head from side to side in repentance, what a great start this is, you keep thinking, “Hi.” is all you give him, still not looking at him.
“Hi,” he repeats, “it’s really nice to see you, bab-, shit, sorry.”, he winces, covering his mouth with his palm, embarrassment creeping into his features. You let out a quiet laugh, exhaling through your nose. You don’t comment on the slip of endearment that leaves his mouth, you don’t correct him, accepting privately that you liked it, you missed it, you longed for it.
Joel studies your face, but makes no comment on your silence. “You look...” he pauses for a split second before deciding to continue, “you look really good.” He hesitates, he doesn't want his compliment to come across as a feeble attempt to patronize you, because he really means it. You do look good, all sweaty and muddy and human and real. You are real. If he took a few steps forward, he could actually reach out and touch you, feel your skin under his fingertips, smell your heady scent, perhaps discreetly lick the remnants of your sweat from his thumb after carefully removing the strands of hair sticking on your forehead. But he doesn’t do that. He doesn’t do any of that.
You don’t quite know how to respond to that, any answer crossing your mind seems stupid or cheesy or dismissive. How do you respond to a compliment from the man who made you worship in his altar, only to have your faith ripped out of your heart?
His eyes keep roaming over your face, your figure, memorizing everything he can, like a blind man who has finally found his light, while he fidgets with an envelope in his hand which reminds you-
“Did you sign the papers, Joel?”, is what escapes your lips before you can think twice.
“No.” and now it’s his turn to lower his head, his eyes avoiding your gaze, as he looks down at his feet.
“Joel!”, you exclaim infuriated, rolling your eyes at him, knitting your brows together in a sign of frustration.
“No, no, it’s not like that. I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever you want.”, Joel raises a hand in your direction to stop you from what seems to be a fair assumption, his palm up, facing you in an unspoken surrender. “I thought that- me, not signing, was a way of showing you how deeply sorry I am, how much I wanted to fix our marriage, but I understand now,” his voice wavers slightly, “that I need to respect your wishes. It’s the right thing to do. If this is still what you want, I’m gonna sign it.”
You don’t reply to that last part, only pointing out that “You didn’t have to come all this way to tell me that.”
“No, I didn’t.” Joel agrees.
“Then why are you here?” you insist, reluctant to entertain the idea that he has actually come all this way to apologize.
“Because I owe you an explanation.” is his honest and direct answer, sending little jolts of electricity through your nerves.
“Joel..” you sigh in exasperation. Not in warning or frustration, not really, but in something else. A feeling you can’t really put a name to, the closest you can come to describing it is that of a burden, woven deep into your heart, blossoming rapidly with each beat. There are so many things left unsaid; it makes you feel helpless, like you’re drowning. You want the dam you’ve built around your soul over the years to break so everything you've been holding back can finally pour out of you, but there’s just so much of it, of everything, that you’re terrified. Will the overflowing tank of emotions be completely empty? Will there be anything left unsaid? Untouched? What if the remnants left behind keep licking around your wounds, their waves pushing, shaping what’s left of you into something new, unrecognizable?
And what if, the tank will indeed be completely empty? What you’ll be left with, then? Nothing? Just.. empty? Will you remain empty? What, if anything, will take its place? Will you recognize your new self? Will you like yourself? Will you be able to live in harmony with this shell of a person? This you; you know. You hated and pitied and caressed and comforted and forgave and nurtured you into some version of a new you. But this? Everything will be torn apart, the wounds will be freshly opened, accessible to be examined in detail, plucked and bled and bruised in an all-too-familiar way.
Joel’s voice snaps you out of your trance, “No, I do. I owe you more than that, actually, but that’s the least I can do. And I wanna do that while I’m still your husband. I want to explain myself as your husband. Apologize to my wife, as her husband. Then I’m gonna sign anything you want me to.”
“And if I don’t wanna hear what you have to say?”
“Then I’ll just sign the papers and leave you in peace.” Joel confesses in all his honesty.
You just nod, looking down on the ground. You take a deep breath to ground yourself. You can do this. You want to do this. You need to do this.
You walk towards the house and sit down on the steps of the porch, as he looks at you awkwardly, not knowing where to stand. You gesture with a tilt of your head for him to come sit next to you. You can do this. You realize that you didn’t invite him into the house and you feel a bit rude for that, but it's beyond your empathetic capacity to deal with him being here and to let him into the house as well. “I just like it out here, it’s calm and-”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, whatever makes you feel comfortable; I know you don’t want me here any longer than I have to be..” he interrupts you as he sits down next to you, his one side pressing against the end of the stairs, where the railing begins. He places the contract between your bodies, on the wooden floor.
It makes you uncomfortable, his statement, you always want people to feel welcome and relaxed around you. You internally chastise yourself for worrying about his feelings instead of yours, but you can’t help it, it’s embedded in your DNA. “It’s OK, Joel, I don’t mind, we can talk.”
Joel nods, but he remains silent. You don’t break the silence, giving him time to collect his thoughts. He chuckles defeated, shaking his head while rubbing his hand over his face.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, you don’t look that mighty to me anymore.” you blurt out before you can stop yourself and you immediately regret it. It didn’t sound so insulting in your head. You only meant to say that he doesn’t intimidate you anymore. Which is sort of a lie and a truth at the same time. You used to find him imposing, even his mere presence had the ability to make your skin crawl, your heart flutter and your words get catch in your dry throat, you were in awe of him. Every time you laid your eyes at him, even when you were straddling his lap or gazing at his profile as he slept beside you, you always felt as if you were looking up. You admired him.
His heart loses several beats to that. He can read between your lines now. He has lost your respect. Your admiration. The time when you looked up to him in awe is long gone.
“You know, my therapist warned me about this.”, he chuckles bitterly.
“Your-” you can’t hide your shocked expression from him as you search his eyes for any sign of him joking around, but you find none. “You’ve been in therapy?”
“Yeah, I-, I spent two years hating myself,” he chuckles deprecatingly, “and then I realized it was time for me to stop being an arrogant prick, so I spent another two doing it all over again with the help of my therapist.”
You laugh wholeheartedly at that and it’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen in his entire life. “OK, somebody’s off to a good start. Go on.”
“You mean about the therapy?”
“I mean about you admitting you are an arrogant prick”, you say playfully.
He really laughs now, his eyes crinkle up at the sides. You used to love that. You feel your heart warming up. “You can thank Maria for that.”
“For what?”
“For kicking my ass and pushing me to help myself.” Joel admits. “She’s a good friend.”
“Yeah, she is.” you agree through your laughter, the image of Maria actually kicking Joel’s ass is priceless.
“I missed that sound.” Joel is looking at you softly, as if his gaze could break you.
“Hm.” you simply smile at him, not finding it in you to respond with a snide remark. The time for that feels like it has passed, like it’s irrelevant at this point. All you really want is to have an honest conversation, irony be damned.
You both look at your feet in silent consideration for a minute or two. “I thought you’d be mad at me.” Joel reveals.
You exhale through your nose, the edges of your mouth turning up in a gentle smile. “Four years is a long time to be mad at anyone, Joel. Even you don’t have that kind of power over me.”
“Good. I have enough burden on my shoulders as it is..”, he mumbles and you decide to change the subject.
How do you admit that you are still mad at him but in a different way? How do you describe the deep scar his existence has carved into your soul making it almost unbearable to even exist without him? How do you explain that you’ll always carry him with you, no matter what? How do you instill in him that you still believe in the best version of him, the best version you know he can be, the best version of him you once lived with. Yes, you’re not mad at him for the reasons he thinks you are. You’re mad at him because the way he made you love him is stronger than any hurt he’s ever caused you.
“So, what did your therapist warn you about?”
“She, uh- she tried to prepare me for this.”
“Oh? What did she say?”
“That I should not be prepared.”, he laughs in earnest. “That I should not obsess about what I want to say and just be open and have an honest interaction.”
“I like her, already.” you say with a straight face.
He smiles softly, looking down at his boots, while he rests his elbows on his knees, one palm encircling the other. “Yeah… I had some digging to do; I still do for that matter and will be for a long time it seems.”
“Anything you wanna share?” you reply, raising an eyebrow as if you had no idea why he was here.
“Oh, boy-” he squirms in his seat, already overwhelmed by the turn of the conversation, his chest almost vibrating with anxiety, he can barely swallow, small beads of sweat starting to form around his temples. You reluctantly reach for his forearm, trying to calm him down. “Hey, Joel?”
His whole body stiffens at your touch and he wishes his clothes would evaporate so he could feel your skin against his. He fixes his eyes on your delicate fingers lightly squeezing his tight muscles underneath the fabric. “The worst part has already happened four years ago, so-” you shrug, “just breathe.” Joel keeps his eyes on your hand, his heart rate dropping slightly; you ground him. You retract your arm and keep your hands to yourself in an effort to maintain a respectable distance between you. You shouldn’t have touched him at all.
“I think- I think I understand now.” he begins, still feeling the ghost of your touch on his forearm. “How I made you feel, what your words meant. You always did that, you know. And I found it so fascinating and so exhausting at the same time.”
You look at him, confused. Joel continues, “You always chose your words carefully. You had a reason for every single thing you said. In retrospect, I realized that you were handing me everything on a silver platter, but I was too self-absorbed to see it at the time.”
You nod in agreement, gesturing with your head for him to keep going.
Joel takes a deep breath, holding it inside his lungs for a while. His exhalation is controlled, measured. “Fuck. Okay. It was not just the fact itself. It was not just the cheatin’.”
Your stomach clenches violently at his words. The time has finally come and although you know what happened, you where there, when the words come out of Joel’s mouth it's as if you're pulled back to that threshold all over again. It really happened. You feel your hands sweating. “Go on.”, you pronounce carefully, already anxious your voice is going to betray you. You can do this.
“I don’t want to sound all full of myself-” Joel hesitates.
“You won’t.” you interrupt him with conviction. The truth has never frightened you. You welcome it. It feels like a form of catharsis, it feels like you’re finally being seen. Every nerve in your body is on fire. You’re ready for this, for the truth, if only he gives it to you. Please, set me free.
“I was your everything.” he whispers, almost embarrassed, his eyes not meeting yours. You don’t respond to that, not until he looks at you, although the admission shoots straight through your heart. You stare at the side of his face, almost forcing him to turn to you. He does.
“You were.” Simple. True. Clear as the light of day.
“And I ripped that from you.”
“You did.”
“In the worst possible way.”
“Hmhm.”, you don’t trust the stability of your voice.
“And no matter what I say, I can never take back what I did. I humiliated you, our home, our relationship, everything. I-” his brows furrow in an expression of disgust, “I disrespected myself. I burned everything down. I left nothing for you to hold on to, nothing for me to hope for, nothing.”
His chin trembles and his voice wavers as he continues. “The words to describe how sorry I am have not yet been invented. And even if they had, they still couldn’t take the pain away; what’s done, is done.”
He closes his eyes and rests his head on the railing. “I don’t know what I wish for anymore. That you had never met me, so you could be spared all this pain? But I can’t. I can’t wish that, because I’m so grateful to have met you. I married you, I had you. That is what has comforted me all these years, what has got me through all those sleepless nights.” He looks absolutely devastated, desperate.
It feels genuine, because he’s not directing it at you, he’s not trying to convince you, he’s not trying at all. “I have not thought about my pain or what I want from all this for a long time. All I pray for is-” his glistening eyes are searching frantically on the ground, his brows knitted together in a painful grimace. You rest your head on the palm of your hand, your elbow on your knee. Watching this moment like an outside observer, you realize that he's trying to live up to your standards, reminding you of a child trying to impress his parents, only to fail regardless of the outcome.
“Look, Joel, couples break up, divorce, all over the world, all the time. And I guess, they all thought their partners were their everything until they finally weren’t.”, you rationalize, putting everything that has happened into some kind of perspective. It is not the end of the world. It is the end of your world. He doesn’t have to carry this burden on his shoulders for eternity. All you need from him is to understand, to acknowledge what he's done to you, how broken you’ve been.
But if he acknowledges that, if he truly comprehends the tremendous pain he’s put you through, won’t all that anguish be transferred to him? Isn't it unbearable for a truly repentant man to know that he has deliberately caused so much pain?
“But, you see; I wanted that, I needed to be your everything.”
“It certainly fed your ego..” you grin at him.
“No, no- I craved that- that look on your face when your eyes were on me, like there was nothing else, no one else around you, but me. You drove me to be better, to move forward; I felt I had a purpose. You were my purpose.”
“Well I didn’t do much of a job then, did I?” you smile defeated.
“No, honey, this-” he’s determined to make you understand that it wasn't your fault, even if it is the last thing he is going to do. He licks his lips trying to formulate his thoughts, “-what happened, had nothing to do with you, I- I was just- I got in my head..”
You shake your head dismissively, “It’s a terrible burden to put people on a pedestal and expect them to-”
“But you see, baby, that’s the thing. You didn’t.”Joel dismisses your comment and if a bucket of ice-cold water was thrown over your head you wouldn’t feel so frozen. You search his eyes for meaning, because deep down it stings to hear that you could give more. Is that what he’s saying? You didn’t love him enough? Joel catches on and rushes to explain. “You-” god this is so hard, he’s struggling, can’t he just rip his heart open and let you examine it? “You loved me so much, baby and you never asked for anything in return. You let me be who I was. You accepted me completely. You set me free.” His eyes are blown wide, burning into yours with intensity. You look so lost, how does all this fit in with what he did then?
“Darlin’,” he expands further, “we live in a competitive world. Everyone aims to control each other, from business partners to lovers and spouses; everyone manipulates, everyone tries to tell you where to look, what to do, how to act, how to fuck, how to love. Except for you. You let me be. You put your heart in my hands and you set me free. And I took advantage of that and I am truly sorry. I’m more sorry than you’ll ever know. That’s how fucked up I am.” you look at him dumbfounded.
“I can’t connect the dots; I don’t get it, Joel, I’m sorry, I-” you run your fingers through your hair, scratching your scalp in frustration. What does he mean?
Joel winces mid-sentence because he can’t escape what’s coming. This is his last resort. And he knows it is going to sound cruel and he doesn’t even mean the first part the way you're going to perceive it, but for lack of better words, for lack of the better person he could have been, a person who should have never put you in this position in the first place, here goes.
“She made me feel wanted; you made me feel free.”,
he spits out in a hurry, praying to whatever god is listening, that you won’t even catch it, knowing full well that these may be the last words you'll ever let him speak to you.
You are utterly, completely, perfectly shocked.
Then you feel it for the first time in what feels like ages. That old friend consuming you. Rage. It burns your lungs, twists your guts and pierces your heart like a thousand needles. Everything becomes crystal clear. You’re so infuriated, that your mind goes blank. A million words and nothing at all come to your mind simultaneously.
“Let me- let me rephrase that, because actually it was never even about her, I just-” Joel begins, in a vain attempt to stop the tide from crushing you both.
Your palms become clenched fists in front of your mouth, pressing against it, crushing the velvety skin of the inside of your lips against your teeth until you draw blood, in an effort to control yourself. You inhale sharply, keeping your eyes fixed on the land in front of you, blurred by the tears gathering in your waterline.
“She- what?” are the only words you manage to choke out.
“Baby, it doesn’t matter, it was never about her, she was a means to an end and-” your eyes bulge out of your sockets at the statement, “I know- I know how that sounds- just-” his palms come together in a prayerful gesture, begging you to give him a chance to explain.
“A means to an- what the fuck are you talking about, Joel?” the veins on your forehead swell under your skin, creating a map of the river of wrath flowing aggressively through your body.
“It was never an affair sweetheart, but a transaction; one I initiated. She was only a boost to my ego.”
..she made me feel wanted..
..a boost to my ego..
It's all starting to make sense now, and it's the last thing you expect to be confronted with. You've always imagined either a heated affair, a secret love story, him realizing he had found his soul mate in someone else, or him getting bored with you, finding you too much or too emotional or too unlovable. It turns out that you were accused of the one thing you never were.
“Are you-, oh god,” you can hear your heart pounding in your ears now and it takes every ounce of strength not to vomit, “are you saying that you fucked someone else; you fucked your secretary for fuck’s sake, you fuckin’ cliché of a man, because I wasn’t jealous of you?”. Your throat is so swollen, you try to scream your words at him but they only come out in wrenched whispers.
You stand up abruptly, dizziness causing you to close your eyes tightly as you see a million white dots behind the blackness of your eyelids. Your whole body vibrates with rage. You steady yourself on the railing and then begin to pace back and forth, your hands unable to stay motionless, but moving over your face, through your hair, lowering and squeezing the sides of your waist as you lean slightly forward in a subconscious way to soothe yourself.
“Oh my god, oh my fucking god,” you laugh hysterically now, as angry tears run down your cheeks, as if you've been let in on an inside joke. “It’s my fault, everything is my fault-”
Joel is frozen in place, he’s not sure if he should get up and try to reason with you or stay where he is.. or run for the hills. He’s witnessing the unleashing of a caged animal. His tongue feels heavy and numb in the cavern of his mouth but he dares to speak again, “That’s the exact opposite of what I said, sweetheart,” he tries to explain in vain, “I’m sorry if that’s what I-” but you’re not listening to a single word he utters.
“People kept telling me, urging me on, all my life;” and you slap your palms on the sides of your thighs, looking at his direction, but not really looking, “I should be more controlling, more pushy, more..” your voice begins to fade, muttering to yourself through your teeth. “They warned me, you know, that the lack of pressure in any kind of relationship would be perceived as a lack of interest.”
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“But I didn’t listen. I never listened. Because in what world do we choose a leash over freedom?” You turn to look at him now, addressing him as if you were talking to a third party, an outsider, asking for advise or affirmation.
Maria’s words come back to Joel’s mind, words that he had long forgotten about, finally fitting like missing pieces of a puzzle to the bigger picture.
“Maybe the wrong Miller is on a leash..”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Means that freedom is for those who can bear it.”
“I was really stupid, was I not? What on earth made me think that this time would be any different, what made me think that you’d be any different? You’re just- you’re just another man-” you spit your vile angrily as your eyes sweep over him. The look in his eyes is devastated, he feels shuttered, reduced to nothing.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid little girl. When the fuck will I learn? When the fuck am I going to accept that I don't really belong? When?”
Joel is staring at you bewildered, he never felt more helpless in his life. A thousand new thoughts and questions form in your head, things you didn’t even begin to imagine would cross your mind.
“Did you use her?” you ask with renewed vigor, a surge of energy running through your body.
Joel’s cheeks burn with humiliation but he has already admitted it once, what will it do to him to say it one more time? “Yes, I never had any feelings f-”
“No,” you interrupt impatiently, you don't care about his feelings right fuckin' now, “that night, did you use her? On purpose?”
Joel looks lost for a second but the cogs in his head finally turn and “NO! No baby, I wasn’t even aware of you coming home earlier than expected, no. Don’t even entertain this idea; it wasn’t intentional, I swear to god.”
Oh. There’s a new question for Joel. Why did you leave your business trip early? He had never thought about it before, solely focused on everything else that had happened, which now made him wonder, “Did you- did you know?”
“What?” you frown, lost in your own thoughts, not following his line of logic.
“Did you know? Is that why you came back early from your trip?”
You’re still a bit too far gone in your head to think clearly and try to prevent the next question from coming, “Of course I didn’t know, Joel, did it look like I did?” is all you say with a bite, annoyed.
“Then why-” Joel insists, pressuring you for an answer, but he doesn’t get to finish his sentence.
“I- fuck- I need a minute.” you declare and start to walk towards the house.
Joel waited on that porch for almost an hour, watching the sun set behind the mountain, afraid to move, barely breathing in case you stormed out and threw him back where he came from as if him standing still would somehow make him part of the landscape; as if he belonged.
And you certainly delivered.
He hears the screen door open, his back still to the house. You are standing behind him, your arms crossed stiffly over your chest, your face tilted down, to avoid his gaze. He could see the red-rimmed and swollen eyes of yours, despite your efforts to hide them.
“I can’t do this-”
“Please,” his whole face contorts in agony, “please, hear me-” you both speak at the same time.
“-tonight.”
“What?” his voice matching the look of confusion on his face.
“Maybe another time, but not tonight.”
“I-” he doesn’t know how to articulate his thoughts without sounding like an idiot. He drove all this way, four hours straight, to finally get things straight. His brain has short-circuited, unable to put a plan into action. Should he check into a hotel or a motel or whatever the fuck is around here in the middle of nowhere? Should he go back to his place? Do you really want to talk again? You sort of said you did. You said maybe. Fuck. What does he do?
But honestly, what did he expect? That this would be over in the course of one evening? Of course he would have to come back. His eyes are fixed on yours like a deer caught in the headlights. “I came all this way-” he mumbles, choking on the last part, already regretting the words that came out of his mouth.
“Well, too bad.” you spit emotionless as you turn and head for the safety of your house, leaving him stunned on the goddamn porch.
Joel returned the next evening, but you weren't there. He made the four hour journey and came back empty-handed. And you weren't there the next evening, or the evening after that. But he kept on driving the miles, hot wheels under the Texas sun. He didn’t check in anywhere near your small town. He went back home and then back to you again.
The last time he found nothing but a closed door, he finally got the message, so the next time he left the house, before he turned on the ignition, he texted you, as a sign of respect for your boundaries.
Is it all right if I come and see you?
Backspacebackspacebackspace
Is it OK if I come and talk?
And the answer was
Not today.
So, every day he texted you. He didn’t mean to be intrusive, he just wanted to remind you that you were never far from his thoughts, that he was always ready and eager to finish what he started.
You denied him for quite some time. You couldn’t bring yourself to face him again. The confessions he made have knocked you off your axis. Just when you finally felt like everything was falling into place, he dropped this bombshell, making you rethink everything you thought you knew and had sorted out in your mind. You just couldn’t wrap your head around what you’d heard coming out of his mouth. How could he think like that? Why couldn’t he just talk to you? You used to talk about everything; what the fuck happened? How did you not see that coming?
You were sure that he would give up, that he would stop bothering to contact you at all. Was it the monster of self-deprecation? Was it a deep disappointment in human beings and their general lack of persistence in trying to nurture and repair a relationship, or at least trying to give it a proper closure? You didn’t give it much thought afraid of the answer you might get. But you kept saying Not today, until one day, for some reason-
Can we talk?
Yes.
Joel’s heart is beating through his chest so rapidly, he has to cough to regain some of his composure. He almost drops his phone, trying to confirm the most convenient time for you before you change your mind.
That was the first Yes after the day you saw him again. You weren’t sure what you wanted to talk about; if you could pick up exactly where you left off. You weren’t even sure you could look him in the eye again, but you had to see this through.
When you hear the sound of his engine and tires on the dirt road, you take a deep breath and walk out of the house to wait for him on the porch.
“Come on in, I’m cooking dinner.” you announce as you open the screen door for him to enter the house.
“Are you sure?”, Joel is taken aback, he thought the inside of your house was strictly off-limits to him. You were also cooking dinner as if he was an old friend visiting you. He couldn’t help but wonder if he should lower his defenses or not but with the way you looked tonight you didn’t give him much of a choice.
You’re wearing a pair of warm cream jeans, paired with a white front tie shirt, the first few buttons left open, giving him a glimpse of your tanned sternum. It almost looks like a man’s shirt, just messily tied up over your soft skin, revealing bits of your stomach. Could it be another man’s shirt?
You are barefoot. The nails of your toes are painted in a fresh glossy black color. Your hair is casually tied up in a messy bun, loose strands falling around your beaming face. Joel has to restrain himself from pushing you against the wall and fucking you on the spot, by clenching and unclenching his fists. His mouth is salivating at the sight of you, excitement building in his groin. It's been so long since he's felt this way, a different kind of hunger is growing in him at a rapid pace, as if something buried deep inside his masculinity has just awakened from hibernation.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” you quirk back at him, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, what you’re both doing. “I’m starving. Coming?” you leave him at the entrance and go back into the house.
“You have a beautiful home.”, Joel admits as he takes in his surroundings, thinking that this is going better than he expected. He also can't help but prepare himself for the fact that this might not end the same way.
“Thank you.” you laugh nervously.
“What?”, he catches the note of disbelief in your voice. “I'm serious, the light is just right, it’s open and warm; it actually reminds me of you.” he says matter-of-factly.
“No, no, I know you mean it, it’s just- I guess it’s high praise, coming from you.” you admit. You always admired what he did for a living and how good he was at it and him seeing your place for the first time gave you another reason to feel kind of nervous.
“Oh, come on, none of that now.” he dismisses the compliment, his voice wavering slightly at the praise.
“Well it’s true, you are excellent at what you do, I mean, the house you built is a work of art and that’s a fact.”
“Which one?”, although he knows exactly which one, he presses on.
“The one we used to live in, together.” You can’t call it your house. You cannot. The mere thought of it makes your tongue feel like it’s on fire.
“Oh.”, Joel smiles as he presses his lips together in a thin line, “You mean our house. It was built out of love, that's why. It's the one I'm most proud of.”
“Hm.”, is all you give him. Déjà vu brings back memories out of the closet -pun intended- for both of you.
“Ok, now you really have to tell me. What is it?”, Joel crosses his forearms over his chest. He has to know.
“What do you mean?”, you try to buy some more time, cause you’re not so sure you want to go in there.
“You had the exact same reaction when I mentioned that, four years ago.”
“Ah, that.”
“Yeah, that.”
“It’s just- it always felt like it reflected your personality rather than mine. Or at least ours.”
Joel looks at you perplexed.
“I’m not complaining, I mean, how many people can claim that their husband built them a house the size of a small hotel as a wedding present?” you chuckle while you continue as nonchalantly as you can muster, “I would have lived in a cave with you, Joel, you didn’t have to go to these lengths to house two people. If you want my honest opinion, this was an ego project. I let it slide because it made you happy. And I liked you happy.” Joel looks stunned, his eyes darting back and forth between yours.
“Baby, I- I wanted to make you happy, to give you the best I could-”
“Joel, I’m not judging you. I am not. But you didn’t show me a single blueprint while you were designing the damn thing. You didn’t ask me what I wanted or how I imagined it. Sure, you equipped it with all the best stuff money could buy, but you never asked me what I thought about it. Not really.”, you see the hurt in his eyes and it unsettles you, but now the rabbit is out of the hat. “Again, I’m not judging you and I’m not being ungrateful, all I’m saying is that for some reason you needed your shinny new wife to live in a shinny new castle. It was a prestige thing. Just think about it.”
“Jesus..” Joel mutters, pinching the sides of his forehead with one hand, feeling defeated.
“Hey,” you give him a wry look, “I tried to avoid answering that question for four years. You were the one who insisted.” you defend yourself, clearly amused by his reaction.
“What else do I need to know?”, Joel wonders in a desperate manner.
“Well.. for how long can you keep coming back?” you joke absentmindedly.
“For the rest of my life..” Joel answers a little too quickly, not a hint of playfulness in his voice.
Your heart tightens at his eagerness, forcing you to admit a consideration that you have had more than a few times before. “You know,” you look over at him, lost in thought, almost like reminiscing, “sometimes I wish I had met you before your company took off.” You snap out of your daydream and consciously look at him and he looks pained as if some kind of realization has hit him. You change the subject for the sake of both of you. “Anyway, speaking of which, how is work? I heard you closed that deal, after all.” you grin mischievously.
“Yeah, I did.”, his voice takes on a strange timbre, almost like regret. But you’re not so sure about anything these days, so you let it pass. He puts the envelope with the contract on the counter in the kitchen and sits down in the chair next to the table already set for dinner.
“Good, that’s good. Let me guess, you’re all over it? First in, last out? Is it almost done?” you word vomit to cover your nervousness.
“Uh,” Joel rubs the back of his neck, “I wouldn’t know.” is all he gives you, clearly trying to avoid getting involved in the discussion.
“Um, you don’t know?”, you laugh lightly in confusion. “How is that possible?”, you ask stirring the vegetables in the pan.
“I’m not involved in the project and I have no idea about the status of the construction;” Joel answers your question and continues, revealing, “I quit. Sold my shares and got out.”
“Yeah,” you draw the vowels, still not looking in his direction, “right. Big, mighty Joel Miller left his enterprise-” you laugh mockingly, but you are met with silence. “You’re joking, right?” You turn to look at him, not believing what you have just heard. You feel your blood freeze in your veins.
Joel shakes his head in denial, “I’ve actually left the city and the only reason I haven’t sold every asset in my name is in case you want to claim any of them. They’re all yours if you want ‘em.” Your mouth is slightly agape, as you try to process what has just been delivered to you.
You open your mouth to protest but he beats you to it, by raising his hand to stop you. “I know you don’t want anything from me, but that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want them either. Not without you. Just take them. Burn them for all I care, liquidate them and use the money as you see fit.”, Joel insists, trying to find ways to convince you.
“You can do that yourself, Joel.” is all you say; you don’t give a damn about his money. Joel nods and leaves it at that, he knows better than to talk about money right now.
You’re curious where he lives now, but you’re not sure it’s appropriate to ask, so you don’t. You prepare dinner and make small talk about simple things like your lives over the past four years. Joel asks you about the ranch, the horses, the chores; you ask him about Tommy and Maria, their newborn son, whom you haven't had a chance to meet yet. None of you dare to break the bubble of normality in which you have effortlessly found yourselves.
It feels like coming home after a long day, the way you both fall into a comfortable silence. Joel speaks your name softly, drawing your attention and your gaze back to him. “What are we doing here?”
“We’re eating?” Just a little longer, let me have it just a little longer.
“Yeah,” he chuckles, “no, I mean, what are we doing?” he gestures with his fingers between him and you.
You look at him and then at your plate, playing around with your food, lost in thought. How do you acknowledge that? How do you confess that you’re trying to stretch time? How do you admit that you’re scared out of your mind of how it's all going to end? How do you even come to terms with the fact that you’re not sure you want any of this to end? How do you accept how natural it feels to have him back in your life? How do you admit that after four years the pain has never stopped, but the force, the roughness of it has changed into something softer, yet persistent; never quite going away, lingering.
How do you admit that all the good memories are emerging, because that’s what the mind does, that’s how it protects you, that’s how it helps you survive another day, that’s how it tricks you into falling back into a comfortable routine with him. Even if what binds you together now is his betrayal. How do you admit that you’re afraid of what will become of you once you've finished confessing your truths?
Will he cease to exist for you? Will you cease to exist for him? Will he ever bother to contact you again? Do you really want him to? Will you matter to him or will he move on, start again and shake off the last vestiges of your life together?
Or maybe- maybe he has moved on with his life and that's why he's doing all this, putting all this effort into it. Maybe he is preparing a new, clear path for himself and whoever is in his life right now. Is it her? Is it still, her?
You’re spiraling, lost in your thoughts, biting your lower lip anxiously, like a snake eating its own tail. “Baby?” his baritone voice snaps you out of it, he must have called you several times before you heard him, suddenly aware of hot, fat tears streaming down your face, his thumbs gently brushing them from your cheeks.
You let out a shuddering breath; it’s the first time he’s touched you, in so, so long. And here he is again. The familiar, old friend. He’s pounding on your door now, relentless as he is, screaming for you to let him in, lead the way, take charge, take care of you. You can almost feel his maniacal banging, vibrating through your chest, let me in, let me in, let me in.
Let me in, better angry than scared.
Better angry than scared.
Your shoulders slump, your head feels unbearably heavy. The world has stopped moving. The world is moving too fast. You savor his features as he leans further in, his intoxicating scent filling your nostrils, his eyes pleading, the brown of his irises inviting you to let him in. Joel’s face is that of a man still in love as he continues to caress your skin and you let him.
You let him, because you are a weak person.
You let him because you have been deprived of his touch, of any touch really, for far too long.
You let him because you want to have something for yourself, selfishly.
You let him, because for once you just want to take. Take, take, take.
You let him because you just want to be held and touched and loved.
And even though your mind knows that you shouldn’t want all that from him, your heart allows you that little moment.
“Joel, I’m tired.” you begin, your voice breaking as fresh tears run down your face and onto his thumbs. “Tired to my bones. All I want is to be honest with each other. Do you think we can do that? Can we talk like two adults with nothing left to lose? Can we just be truthful to each other? I know there’s too much history between us, too much hurt and resentment but we both have to try and put it all behind us. I can’t go on like this.”
There’s a stillness in him, realization and clarity dawning on him. He thinks he understands now and it shocks him somehow, as a fact, that there are still things to uncover, to revel in, to acknowledge. Every time he thinks he’s reached the end of this journey, a new sun rises over the horizon.
You don’t need the specifics of his action, at least not right now, or not anymore. What you need is closure. True, honest closure. And that can only come from him baring himself to you. “Yeah, yeah, we can do that. We can do anything you want, baby.”, he squeezes his eyes shut, knowing where to begin, but resisting the thought. He leans back in his seat, dropping his hands from your face as he lets out the breath he seems to be holding in and begins.
“Remember that night before your business trip when you came to my office?”
“Uh, yeah? I guess.”, what a strange thing to mention, you think confused. “What about it?”
“You came to me for sex.”, Joel says bluntly, no need to beat around the bush. This is it. This is how he loses you. Once again.
You stare at him and then, for some reason, look down in embarrassment. You’ve fucked him in almost every way you can think of and now the very admission of that fact makes you feel like an exposed nerve. It dawns on you, how far away this era has slipped away. You feel vulnerable as if you’re talking to a total stranger about your most intimate moments. At the same time, you still know exactly how to touch him, how to please him and a light warmth begins to shimmer inside you.
“Well, that’s one way of putting it, but- yeah..”, you admit, still nervously picking at your food with your fork.
Joel sees your apprehension but he presses on. This is what you asked for. “And I refused you.” The look on your face betrays your confusion. Where is he going with this? Only now, he sees more. He can finally see more. The hurt. The disappointment. “What happened next?” is his next question and does he really think that you can remember all these years later? Does he honestly believe that you can recall yourself leaving his office defeated and crying yourself to sleep? “I don’t remember.” you lie, shrugging your shoulders as convincingly as you can muster.
“You said you loved me and then you left.”, Joel reminds you.
“You- you remember all that?”, your eyes are wide and the look on your face vulnerable, Joel wants to pause it all and hold you in his arms.
“I can’t seem to forget anything about you,” he reveals, “believe me, I’ve tried.”
“What’s your point?”
“Why did you do that?”
“Uh.. why did I do what?”, you narrow your eyes in confusion.
His eyes are piercing yours, provoking you to figure it out on your own.
“Loved you?” He shakes his head almost imperceptibly.
Your eyes widen again, in surprise this time, as you finally see what he means.
“Walked away?” You’re fucking shocked to the core, your voice choked, you’re not sure you spoke out loud.
“Why didn’t you insist?”
Your mouth is wide open, you’re speechless, you flatter your eyelids in search of the right words. This is your second encounter and once again he says what you least expect him to say.
“You refused” you remind him now, “and I respected that.”, your hand moves to rest on your chest, palm open, to calm your racing heart.
“I didn’t want you to.”
“You know how that sounds, don’t you?”, you mock with a nervous laugh.
“Oh, please,” Joel is quick to respond, his brows knitted in a dismissive frown, “like you could ever force yourself on me.”
You genuinely are at a loss for words, your gaze unable to stay in one place, your mind running a million miles an hour.
Apparently you both are, because Joel is no better at explaining how he feels. “I wanted you to-”, he stops, his eyes still searching yours for the right words, pleading with you to feel him.
Oh my god. Oh. My. God.
It dawns on you. All at once. You see it all playing out. You know exactly how this conversation is going to go. “-claim you? You wanted me to claim you?”, your voice rises, as does your tone. You feel the presence of your abandoned friend again. You don’t want him here. But he creeps in through your veins, nonetheless. He is not giving up. If the pounding doesn’t work then he’ll poison you, slowly and persistently.
“From who? You were supposed to be mine!”, you exclaim exasperated, immediately correcting yourself “-not that I owned you, you know what-”
“That! That’s what I’m talking about!” Joel points his finger at you, “That’s what I needed. To be yours!”
“But you were! Are we really haggling over semantics? Of course you were mine! I just never wanted you to feel suffocated by me. You were not my possession Joel, you were my partner!”
“I swear to you, I would die a happy man, baby.”
“I- I tried so hard to control myself-” you mutter to yourself, rolling your eyes back to your head as you shake it in denial, “-all that hunger inside of me, eating me up-”
“What?” is Joel’s turn to look like a lost puppy. What the fuck is going on here?
“You,” you point a finger at him, “you were my first and last thought every passing day, it wasn’t even healthy anymore, Joel. But- I saw that look in your eyes sometimes, a hunger, one I thought mirrored mine and then it was gone in the blink of an eye and I thought that something was holding you back; I- I was holding you back. I thought- maybe I was undeserving..” you divert your eyes from him, embarrassed at your feeling of inadequacy, “So, I accepted what you gave me if it meant I could have any part of you.”
“Oh, baby..” Joel’s hiding his face in his palms and his heart breaks as he realizes where you both stand. How did the two of you get to this point? How could his judgment be so clouded, how could he be so blind to what was happening under his own roof? How could he be so arrogant as to seek validation, one he didn't even need, from someone else? Someone whose validation he didn't even care about. It didn't matter to him. She didn’t matter to him. How could he not sense the insecurity tantalizing your very core to the point of feeling inadequate? If only you had told him sooner.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” you mirror his thoughts with your voice.
“What should I say to you? I couldn’t put it into words, even now I'm not sure I can. It was an all-consuming feeling, an absolute necessity, an overwhelming need that was impossible to handle. I wasn’t mentally or emotionally prepared to deal with it. I loved you with such force that it became an obsession. I couldn’t even entertain the idea that you might not want me back in the same way. I felt helpless, vulnerable. How could I come to terms with this? With the realization that I had fucked someone else just to get a rise out of you or to prove to myself that I didn't need you that much after all?”
Joel’s palms are clenched into fists on his thighs, trying to keep himself from pressing his lips against yours. Feelings and desires that had been buried in his subconscious for too long came back as he tried to make you understand.
“A r- so, you did fuck her on our bed on purpose.”
“You asked me that before, darlin’, I promise you I did not.”
“Then how would you provoke me if you didn’t mean for me to find out?” you look at him incredulously.
“I-” Joel winces, “it wasn’t a conscious thought, I just kept fantasizing about you finding out and burning the house down for me and that single image made me so h-” Joel shuts his mouth abruptly, not the best idea to describe to you how fuckin’ hard he got, fantasizing about you while fucking someone else. You, bursting into the bedroom all raging and furious, turning the whole place upside down reclaiming what was rightfully yours.
Him.
What a sick fuck he was. “I swear to you, no. I’m not that fucked up. It was a gigantic lack of judgment, I was fuckin’ drunk, my mind was a mess at that point. That whole week was-” he’s biting his tongue hard to stop himself while rubbing his forehead with his fingers, “I was just being an idiot.”
“The week I was gone?”
“Yes.”
“What about it?”
“Nothing, ‘snothing.” and he doesn’t elaborate. “Just a bad fuckin’ week.”
The atmosphere suddenly feels suffocating, as if all the words that have spilled out of both your mouths are hovering over your heads like a black cloud. You need some air to clear your mind, so you make your way out of the kitchen without looking back and walk slowly to the porch, sitting on the steps at the bottom of the stairs. You know he will follow. Your bare feet touch the soft soil beneath you and you try to ground yourself through the little patch of earth you call your own. It doesn’t quite work. There’s a beautiful golden glow, a last gift from the parting sun, warming your soul. Everything is going to be all right.
“Strange fantasies we both had.” you say as Joel seats down next to you, the contract once again a barrier between you. “You kept fantasizing about me finding out about your affair-”.
“It wasn’t an affair-” Joel corrects you.
“Fine, fine. You imagined that, while I kept fantasizing me holding you so tightly while we fucked that our flesh became one; that’s how deep I needed you inside me, that’s how obsessively I wanted to carry you with me all the time, isn’t that totally fucked up?” you laugh dejectedly.
“I guess we are the same kind of fucked up. If only we could admit it to each other..”
“Did you really feel that I didn’t love you enough?” you whisper, almost too scared to be heard and to get an answer.
“I think we loved each other too much. I think we were both too afraid of losing each other. I think,” Joel pauses for a moment to gather his thoughts and calm his voice, “in our efforts to keep each other we did the exact opposite. More me than you, for sure. I have handled things badly and badly is an understatement.”
“You were always so patient with me. You’d always wait for me to come to you, to take my time. I needed the savage in you, or I thought I did at the time. That desperate thing I felt creeping out of you in stolen glances or bitten lips between your teeth, or when we fucked; no one has ever fucked me like you did. I did see all of you then, you know. And I think you saw all of me. If I made you feel confident or safe enough, you would have talked to me. And if I wasn’t so self-absorbed I would have asked.”
You never thought you’d hear these words from Joel, but all this time of self-reflection has changed him in a way that reminds you of the Joel you fell in love with. The one you could see behind all those layers of self-protection, the one you’d always hoped would emerge for you. And then he goes on, and you wish you knew what was coming so you could protect your heart from being torn to shreds.
“Maybe-” he closes his eyes looking pained, “maybe I was a narcissist. Maybe you gave me all you had and I kept wanting more, maybe I needed every part of you for myself. Maybe I needed you on your knees, on a leash, at my mercy, just to have the illusion of the certainty that you would never leave me. Maybe freedom is for those who can bear it, after all. Hell, maybe I was the one who needed the leash in the end. Maybe you gave me too much credit, my love, when you deemed me worthy of freedom.”
His words are earth-shuttering, obliterating, final. There’s nothing left to be said, at least nothing of substance. Final. The fucking word plays over and over in your head. Final. This is final. You could swear that you have felt every possible kind of pain during these four long years but new depths of agony are being discovered right now. The acid in your stomach makes your throat constrict. You feel petrified.
Joel can sense your distress, his words have been of no comfort to you. Your skin looks pale, covered with a thin layer of cold sweat; you look physically ill. Your forearms rest on your knees and he gently cups your elbow to check in on you. Are you OK? You smile weakly at him, the expression not reaching the corners of your eyes.
“You know I would give anything to take it all back, right?”
Your laughter is more lively now, not with malice or sarcasm, but with a sense of humor.
“Yeah, yeah, I think I do.”, you shake your head in twisted amusement, tilting your head up, to let the last rays of the sun warm your face, maybe bring back some of your lost color. It's getting dark now, the day is coming to an end, the curtains of the last sunlight are almost closed. Your eyes are closed too, your head still tilted back as you laugh to yourself, “You did that backwards, too, you know.”
“What?”
“You have burned everything to the ground, only to realize that you want to get it all back in one piece. I mean it’s- it’s-” you struggle to find the right words but Joel offers one of his own.
“Ridiculous..”
“I was gonna say pointless.. But that’s the thing, Joel. Choosing to be with someone is like faith. You believe because you just know. You don't have to find evidence to prove your choice at every turn, otherwise it’s just exhausting. You choose to trust yourself.”
“Trust me as your partner, you mean, not yourself.”
“Joel, it was never about trusting you..”
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand..”
“I’m not sure how to explain it- uh..”, you raise your shoulders and your brows in unison as you shake your head slightly, searching for the words. “Trust is a personal journey. ‘Trust’ doesn't mean ‘trust in you’, I’m not trusting you. No one can be sure of anyone. ‘Trust’ means that I have faith in myself, that even if you hurt me, even if you abandon me, I will not fall apart. And..” you shrug your shoulders, hugging yourself with your hands, “look at me, Joel..”, you finish, suggesting that you’re still here, still standing.
“I am, baby; I am..” Joel replies, taking in the sight of you as if it were the last time he’ll ever have the chance to, utterly compelled by your inner glow.
“I’m not mad at you Joel, not anymore. And I believe you, I really do. But I can’t get that scene out of my head. I just can’t. I can still hear the sounds, I can even recall the way you smelled when you were standing next to me.”
His hands are shaking.
“I’m not trying to hurt you, really.”
“I know.”, his voice is barely audible.
“I think you’ve done enough of that yourself. Maybe it’s time to forgive yourself?”
“Do you?” Do you, really? Do you forgive him after all that has been said? Do all these confessions illuminate the facts from a different perspective? Does it change what he did and what you went through? And if so, does that mean you're letting him go? Are you leaving him behind? Is he leaving you behind? Why is it so hard to let go? Why do you choose the safety of the known, even when it hurts you?
You choose not to answer and instead firmly insist, “You have to forgive yourself, Joel, it’s okay.” Be the better person. If not for him, then for yourself. Let him go.
“I can’t do that.”, Joel is adamant, shaking his head while he rejects your request.
“Yes, you can.” you urge him again. “As I can and do.” Let him go.
Joel never thought he would listen to those words coming out of your mouth. He doesn’t deserve them. He hasn’t earned them. “You forgive me?”, he repeats in utter shock and disbelief.
“Yes.” Loud and clear as daylight.
“I- You can’t- I don’t- I don’t deserve that.” Joel feels like he’s drowning in your so graciously offered Holy Grail, desperately trying to keep his head above the waters of your absolution.
“I can’t be the judge of that, Joel, hell, I can’t be the judge of anyone. The way I see it, you chose your actions and I chose mine. You chose to hurt me and I chose to walk away. We both lost something. Have we not suffered enough, Joel?” you ask him honestly.
“I don’t want to presume, but- isn’t it a great burden to carry on your shoulders when you try to move on? All this anger, all that bitterness?” you search his eyes for an answer but he doesn’t give you one.
You continue, hoping to get through to him. “Your feelings are your burden Joel and it doesn’t matter if I forgive you. That’s why it is you who needs to forgive yourself.”
His eyes still refuse to meet yours, stubbornly glued to the ground. “I’m not doing this for you, I’m doing this for me. We need to move forward, both of us.” is the last thing you say to him, not knowing if he even listened to half of what you just said.
You both fall into a thoughtful silence, but something you said is bugging him. He can’t quite figure it out, so he turns to look at you, to savor you while he still has the chance. He knows that his time is limited.
You’re just sitting there with him, trying to comfort him, you of all people. You seem lighter now, fidgeting absentmindedly with your fingers as if some of your burden has already been lifted. And as his gaze sweeps over you, he sees it again. He sees the white shirt hugging your body and he knows what’s troubling him.
I don’t want to presume, I don’t want to presume, I don’t want to presume.
His heart beats rapidly in his chest, panic rising inside him.
“I’ve been with you for the last four years.”
“Excuse me?” your hands freeze as you turn to face him, clearly confused.
“You said you didn’t want to presume anything and I need to set the record straight. There was and is no other woman in my life except you.”
“Joel,” you blush shyly, “this is none of my business, you are free-”
“No. No. I need you to know this, it’s important to me. I meant everything I said. You have done nothing wrong. My feelings for you have never changed-”
“Joel, please..” you beg him to stop, you can’t have this conversation now, it’s too soon. No, you’re wrong. It’s too late; too soon means there’s a future ahead of you. A future where you both fit in the same universe.
“I don’t want you to think that I came all the way out here just to tie up some loose ends and move on. That is not what this is about.”
“If you expect me to tell you about my personal life..” your what now?
“No, I don’t. And I don’t think I could handle it, anyway. You are a free woman and you deserve the world. Unlike me; I don’t deserve anything and I’ll never be free of you.”
Your chin is now trembling and you bite your lower lip to stop the involuntary muscle contraction. You can’t decipher if it’s from anger for the way things came to be or from deep, excruciating sadness for how Joel feels. For how he makes you feel.
“Free woman, huh?”, you whisper bitterly, looking down at your feet, willing yourself not to cry.
“Yes, free, as you should always have been and I’m sorry I couldn’t see it sooner.”
Joel then picks up the divorce papers from the floor next to him as he’s fishing a pen out of his pocket. He stares at you and then at the blank space where his signature should be, next to yours. He splays his palm over the last page as if to straighten it out, but it almost looks like he’s caressing it. He brings the ball of the pen to the white surface and for a moment his hand lingers over it. He doesn’t dare look at you again, his resolve is not that strong. Finally, finally he signs, filling the empty spot and he hands you the contract. It’s a strange moment, the one before the signature and the one after it.
Everything seems to be the same; it is just a signature.
Everything feels completely different; it is not just a signature.
Your fingertips brush his as you reach out to take it, the touch sending shivers down your spine. Your slightly trembling hands hold the papers gently, not sure you wanna hold on to them or scatter them on the ground. Your thumb swipes softly over his signature.
You feel it, now. You feel the ground beneath your bare feet, the warmth of the earth, the weight of your footing. The falling has stopped. The feather finally rests. You have landed.
Joel moves to stand on his feet, as you keep staring at the drying ink, when you feel something fall from above onto your thumb; but you can’t see anything as it is immediately absorbed by the hungry pores of the paper, slightly smudging his signature. You look up to catch him as he dries his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.
“Free as a bird, baby, ready to fly over the world.”, Joel smiles at you with a look of reverence and devotion in his eyes.
You picture the floating feather in your head and smile back at him with a serenity he hasn’t seen in a long time.
“I think I just want to walk for a while. One step at a time.”
He nods, his eyes still full of emotion and you watch as he begins to walk slowly towards his truck, when suddenly he turns his body to face you but continues to walk backward in the same direction.
“Hey!” he calls to you with a mischievous smile, raising his chin to you.
“Yeah?” you answer, your voice wavering slightly as you try to hide your smile.
“Can I take you to dinner sometime?” he asks as he reaches for his driver’s door and opens it, waiting for your answer, which never comes because you think he’s joking. But he continues to stare at you, with no expectations, quietly, earnestly, sincerely, with a soft, shy smile on his lips. Oh.
Oh.
“Joel..” is all you breathe out, closing your eyes for a moment before you look at him again, because his name is all that is left in your very being right now. Joel.
He seems lighter, too.
“Maybe, one day..?”
“Yeah.. Maybe, one day..”
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#pedro pascal#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascal fandom#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller imagine#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#fanfic#joel miller#joel miller angst#infidelity joel miller#joel miller au#joel miller tlou#joel miller the last of us#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x you#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us hbo#hbo the last of us#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x original character#joel miller x oc#joel smut#joel x reader#joel the last of us#joel x you#joel x oc#angst fic#cheater joel miller
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The Hills (Part Two)
JJ hates his menial job, but there’s a certain customer he lusts and loathes in particular.
(JJ Maybank x Reader)
Part One
You didn’t know what had come over you.
One minute you’d been poolside; pissed over something so fickle you couldn’t remember, and the next you were pressed against the cold walls of the storage room whilst JJ Maybank - known Pogue and borderline vagrant - had fucked you from behind.
He was all over you now; his love bites still etched on your body whilst his ocean and marijuana dripped scent was embedded into the material of your swimsuit. None of it compared to the fact that he’d made his mark directly inside you - his cum still seeping out of you when you’d showered before dinner that day. Your dear father had been concerned, so worried that his princess was walking with a slight limp whilst she kept her thighs pressed together…and all you could say was that you needed to pee.
What had happened was a one time thing, a lapse of judgement in the spur of the moment. He could run off and tell all his friends, but who was truly going to believe him? You had everyone wrapped around your finger, so as far as it went, your word was sacred.
Would you really be that embarrassed if word got out? It wasn’t as if JJ was a complete social pariah. Still, you knew enough about him (and his felonious father) to know that some things were best kept a secret.
And you vowed to keep it that way.
“I’m bored,” Bree said, dragging her vowels as she ran a hand through her hair. “Let’s get drunk. Or high. Better yet, both,”
You and Halle scoffed as you turned around, balancing an ungodly amount of clothes on your arms. They were over at your house, going through your closet as you sifted for something fresh - or forgotten - to wear. Midsummers was around the corner, and nothing but perfection was expected from you. Not that you were ever worried about that, of course.
“Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something?” you said, rolling your eyes.
��We can just go to the store and get a new one,” Bree huffed before perking up again. “Come on, let’s go to Rafe’s! They’ve always got something going on,”
Halle snickered. “Please, anywhere but his!”
“Agreed,” you nodded. “Rafe does the hard stuff. I am not a crack whore,”
“Speaking of, what’s going on with you and him, huh?” Bree pressed. “You know he’s into you…I bet he’s going to ask you to Midsummers,”
You smirked. The fact was rather amusing - Rafe could, and has, hooked up with many girls on the island, and yet you were the one he chased the most. It was the classic Madonna/Whore complex, and if you were to say yes - even once - you knew you were in for a life of nothing but rigid conformity, from the rich white of your wedding dress to the grand names of your babies once you carried the Cameron lineage. To some, that life was appealing, but you already had it all.
You just wanted a bit of fun. Perhaps in the form of another blonde.
“I’ll hook up with him but that’s it,” you shrugged, holding a dress to your body as you stared in the mirror. “It all depends on how drunk I can get…”
“Are you serious? How could you not like Rafe Cameron? Every girl on this island would kill to be you!” Bree exclaimed with a distant, yet covetous look in her eye.
“Tell me something I don’t know,”
Bree huffed again before pursing her lips.
“…If you don’t want him, can I have him?”
You cocked a brow.
“Does he want you?”
Halle bit her lip, holding back a laugh as she flopped onto your bed and grinned.
“I’m all for you getting laid anyway,” she said, breaking the somewhat obvious tension. “Whoever you got it from last time gave it to you good… I haven’t seen you glow like that since our twelfth grade spring break!”
You paused, suddenly being hit with the faint smell of chlorine and weed. JJ was behind you again, stamping impassioned kisses and bites onto your skin as he tutted into you, skilfully working his big cock into you as he sought his release. It was all too warm, too fast.
“Oooh, who’s the guy?” Bree perked up, with Halle nodding eagerly in agreement.
“It’s nothing serious…” you shrugged, turning your back to the both of them as you tried to hide your smirk. You and JJ weren’t dating - and you certainly weren’t close to being friends - and yet you couldn’t deny the feeling in your stomach. Whether it was nerves, lust, or somewhere in between, you couldn’t wait to run into the Pogue boy again.
“…You know what?” you said, clearing your throat as you stared off into the distance. “Maybe I can get us that weed for next time…”
That Saturday, you wore your prettiest (and tightest) sundress.
It seemed your covered body made you borderline invisible (it was either that or JJ was deliberately ignoring you) as you watched him stroll around the pool, smiling in people’s faces and flipping them off behind their backs. Knowing that he hated his job - where he served to service people like you - was rather amusing. You couldn’t wait to make his day worse.
You stood up as he came your way, grabbing him by the shoulder as if you were scolding him.
The boy turned to you and gave you a once over.
“Whaddup princess, back for round two?”
“Shut up,” you hissed. “Listen, I need a favour —“
JJ grinned.
“I’m all ears but I’m charging this time, alright? I’ve seen what kind of car your dad drives,” he finished with a knowing smirk, and you rolled your eyes at the implication.
“Ugh,” you huffed. “Anyway. You have something I want —“
“—Oh, really? ‘Cus it just so happens you’ve got something I want too…” he mused, staring down at your glossy lips before checking you out. “Three things, in fact. Four if you’re a freak —“
You cut him off, aware of the way your cunt throbbed at the mention of letting any man - let alone someone like JJ - take your anal virginity.
“I need weed, and I know you Pogues have got good stuff,” you said, voice shaking. “I want a bag… or something —“
JJ scoffed and rolled his eyes, running his fingers over his lips as he looked you up and down. There was something alluring about the fact that you, in all your bitchiness, were rather innocent under it all. Someone like you, coming to him for a favour? How could he possibly turn the opportunity down?
“You don’t know how this works, huh?” he laughed, staring at your wide eyes.
“Tip me and I’ll have it hand delivered on Sunday. You won’t even have to go to The Cut.”
Raising a brow, you rummaged in your tiny purse before handing him some cash.
“Here’s a dollar. Fix yourself up.” you instructed, nodding to his messy hair and the small scars on his lip and hands.
“Don’t let me down.” You said sternly, holding your hands on top of his own momentarily as you stared into his blue eyes. He was clearly distracted; fixating more on your lush lips and the sheer material of your sundress stretching over your breasts.
At least the two of you were on the same page.
The sun had set on Figure Eight, and, of course, JJ hadn’t shown up. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was bringing weed (you could’ve at least smoked your problems away), you would’ve felt like a girl stood up on her first date. Instead, you’d flung on your nighties and turned up the volume in your AirPods, staring out of the window and glancing at the moon.
As much as your mind wanted to focus on Midsummers, you could only think about JJ, and what it would feel like to have him fuck you again, this time in your pink satin sheets from the crack of dawn until the sunset. Sliding your hands into your silk shorts, you pushed past the wet lips of your pussy with your fingers and delved them into your core, imagining they were JJ’s and not yours.
“That’s it, Mama, get those fingers nice and wet for Daddy…”
You longed to feel his cool rings press against your hot cunt as he fingerfucked you; his trademark smug smile painted across his face as he soothed you, relishing in your desperation.
“Fuck, if you can’t take my fingers, you’re gonna fall apart on my cock, huh?”
You delved your fingers deeper into your pussy as you worked your way into the crux of your fantasy; only to be rudely awakened by the sound of tapping on a window.
“What the fuck —-“
Blinking, you struggled to get your eyes to adjust to the sudden light, your vision blurry as they locked onto a certain blonde figure. Huffing, you wiped your hands on your thigh before striding over and siding it open.
“You asshole, are you dumb?”
“Well, it would’ve been easier if you had left the gate open,” JJ said casually, climbing through your window. He was dressed in a ripped vest, and was carrying a small ziplock in one hand, with a gun in the other. “This shits like a fucking maze…Were those lasers…?”
Hurriedly, you closed the window, making sure that no one had seen before ushering him away from the view.
“The gate was open…five hours ago!” you exclaimed, careful to keep your voice to a hush. “Where the fuck were you?”
“I got caught up, okay?” he shrugged, unable to keep his eyes off of your body, fixated on the way your breasts jiggled with every animated reaction. “I’m here now, do you want the stuff or not?”
Frowning, you stuck your hand out for JJ to hand you the goods, inspecting the contents as he looked around your room. It was unbearably girly, yet JJ couldn’t help but feel a sick sense of pride to it all. He was the messy Pogue boy, slutting out a Kook princess - Rafe’s most wanted property - and it felt fucking good.
He glanced over at you, taking in the way your vest hung dangerously low on your chest, exposing the tops of your boobs and the outline of your nipples, hardened in the cool summer air. Your shorts weren’t any less tempting; the fabric riding so high up your legs that he could swear he could see a bit of your pussy through the opening.
If he was correct, you weren’t even wearing panties.
“Nice clothes by the way,” he grinned. “Is that lace? You goin’ somewhere?”
“To bed, yeah.” you scoffed, hiding the weed in your top drawer before lying on your bed. The hem of your vest rode up so that you gave JJ an eyeful of your stomach, teasing him with the rounded mounds of your breasts.
“Mind if I join you?”
He didn’t wait for an answer, instead flopping next to you and propping himself up on his elbow, trapping you between the wall and his body.
“I'm not in the mood, JJ.” You huffed, staring up at his damned smile as you tried to ignore the burning in your core. Just five minutes ago you were dreaming of this, and if it weren’t for your pride you would’ve been begging him to fuck you like a bitch in heat.
The blonde clicked his tongue, his lustful eyes drinking in your body as he began to run his fingers up your thigh, moving skilfully past your core and up onto your hips, daring to cop a feel of your breasts.
“You owe me for that…by the way,” he said knowingly. You raised your brows in shock, and he laughed.
“What, you thought it was free? That I’d give it to you out of ‘the goodness of my heart’? Nah, princess, this is good shit right here, and I’m not letting my journey go to waste —“
His hands stalked up your chest, causing you to let out a soft moan as he brushed your sensitive nipples before they decided to rest on your neck, gripping it with a considerable force as he held you in place to look at him.
“— You’re not really over our first time, anyway.”
He kissed you, and you instinctively pulled his body on top of you, gasping as he grinded his hard cock against against your thigh, signalling what he wanted. You were all too happy to give it to him, rolling yourself on top of him so that you could rub your cunt against his crotch, desperate for any kind of friction. JJ snickered, pulling up your vest to roughly grope your tits before placing his hand on your neck again, gently choking you.
“As much as I want you to ride me Princess, I didn’t come here for that kind of payment. I wanna fuck that pretty mouth of yours.”
His gaze on your was unwavering as he lowered you to the foot of the bed on your knees, hand still firm around your throat. Your core throbbed as you glanced up at him through your lashes, palming his bulge through the fabric before taking it out. This was your first time seeing it up close; a decent six inches with a slight curve and pink fleshy tip that spouted precum.
Instinctively, you placed it to your lips, coating your lips in his seed before you took him in your mouth. JJ let out a loud moan at the contact, gripping the back of your neck as he held your head in place as you bobbed up and down his lengthy cock.
You took a deep breath as you pressed your tongue flat against the underside, angling your neck further as you became determined to deepthroat his cock. Your ego was far too big to let JJ think he was winning; even though you tears were beginning to prick at the corner of your eyes.
“JayJ…” you choked. “I need to — Let me —“
“What?” He teased, cupping your cheeks. “Use your words, Mama…”
“Y-You’re too big…” you whimpered, dribbling bits of saliva down his cock as you gagged around his middle. “I need air —“
The blonde tutted.
“I always knew you were all talk. It’s a shame you can’t handle me, princess… I thought you and I were pretty good together the other day…” he rambled, and for some reason the clear manipulation in his voice made your cunt throb uncontrollably.
You bobbed your head again, this time managing to bury your nose in his messy pubes, squirming and clawing on his large thighs as he held you in place.
“That’s it, Mama,” he cooed, throwing his head back in ecstasy. “Be a good girl and choke on this fucking dick. Shit, I always knew that mouth was good for something…”
It wasn’t until you let out a desperate gurgle and that he let go. Though your cheeks were burning and eyes were filled with tears, you couldn’t help but admire your work - JJ’s raw cock was shiny, coated in your spit; twitching as he ached for more.
Grinning, you wiped the mixture of saliva and cum off of your lips before getting back to work, this time using your hands to massage his base.
“Don’t forget the balls, baby —“ he groaned, and you took his cock out of your mouth with a ‘pop’, taking a long lick down his underside before sucking gently on his balls. He groaned again, this time finishing with an impassioned gasp that threatened to wake your parents down the hall.
You slapped his thigh.
“You’re going to get me busted!”
“Fuck that…” he drawled through breathy chuckles. “…Daddy’s little princess has got a mouth for days — You give these to all the pool boys?”
“Consider yourself lucky,” you hummed, giving him a few languid strokes as you continued to attend to his balls. “Rafe’s been on me like a hawk…”
JJ sneered, wrinkling his nose as he slapped his heavy cock on your face, producing a wet smacking sound.
“I don’t wanna hear about that asshole right now,” was all he said, guiding your head back onto his cock, feeling his thighs tremble as he began to reach his edge.
He glanced over at your phone, wishing that he could snap a few pics, hell, even a quick video of the dirty deed; and send it off to the Cameron son himself in a quick Snapchat. To some it might’ve been trivial; but to a guy like Rafe having the right girl on his arm meant a lot - and, if JJ was to have even the slightest of leverage over him, how could he not take the opportunity to rub it in his face?
“Fuck…” he puffed, lips parted in ecstasy. “Choke on it one more time, baby…”
“JayJ—“ you begged, and he shook his head, solely focused on his release.
“C’mon princess, I know you can do it…Take a deep breath, ‘atta girl —“
It wasn’t long before he spilled down your throat, making you gag and pull your head back in shock. He hastily grabbed his dick and angled it at your face, painting white rivulets across your cheeks and lips as he writhed in pleasure, spewing words and phrases you weren’t sure if he even meant.
As he rode off his high, he scooped some of his cum up in his finger, and you needed no instruction as to what to do next. You stared into his cloudy blue eyes as you sucked his finger, and for a moment you could’ve sworn that there was something - even a flash - of affection.
Once he pulled the digit out of your mouth, a moment passed before he kissed you; sloppily yet passionate, so much so that you didn’t notice the screen of your phone light up, even in the dimly lit light of your room.
rafe.cameron liked your story
rafe.cameron: Bree said you’re coming to Midsummers. Meet me at the country club tomorrow we need to talk
@juniebugg @lunarzuku (ty for reblogging and tagging part one!<3)
#florence writes!!#jj maybank smut#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank x reader smut#jj maybank imagine#obx smut#obx x reader#obx x reader smut#obx imagine
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Crazier • Pt. 3
pairing: mcu!peter parker x reader
a/n: ITS FINALLY HERE omg I loved writing this series so much i had a blast. thank you for everyone who was asking me about part 3 because it felt amazing knowing you enjoyed it as much as me😭💕💕 i hope you enjoy !! (beware, she is long)
warnings: some angst thrown in here and there, fluff (later), mentions of breakups, mentions of cheating, very very brief mention of suicide ( someone mentions and old author who offed themselves), me not knowing anything about theater (I apologize in advance), glitter
read part 1 here & part 2 , masterlist
"And when we got the chair, Brad made me sit in it and he pushed me around the whole school!" You were telling Spider-Man about your day, and as always, he listened politely, only chiming every now and then.
"Wow, you and this Brad guy sure did a lot together today, huh?" He said, and even with the voice changer, you could tell he sounded a bit off. "I mean yeah! He's a great guy, way cooler than I originally thought.” You told him, making him grind his teeth hard, not that you saw that.
"Actually I'm a little upset that the play is about to come to an end." Your voice gets a little softer as you confess what's been on your mind today. "The rehearsals have been a blast, and the people are amazing and it's been such a good distraction from everything. I'm really sad to see it go," you looked down at your hands.
Peter took one look at your expression and knew there was something else you weren't telling him. "Well what kinds of things do you need a distraction from?" he asked carefully.
"Um," you looked anywhere but at him, "well, my parents have been fighting a lot lately and it's just been really hard to be around the house, everything's so tense."
His lips parted but nothing came out. He knew about your parents, of course, whenever things got bad you'd always run over to his place to hang out. But now you couldn't do that anymore, so you were just looking for any way to avoid coming home for as long as you could.
"And of course, there's that whole breakup." you continued. "But I've been pretty good at ignoring that so far, and I think that's just the way I'll keep going." You drummed your fingers on your thigh as you stared into nothing.
"Do you really think that's the best way to go about it?" He asked hesitantly. "Maybe you shouldn't just completely ignore something like that."
You gave him a questioning look, "And why wouldn't I want to forget about it? Isn't that what you're supposed to do eventually after a breakup?"
"Yeah, eventually," he repeated, "but wasn't that relationship a big part of you? Ignoring everything isn't gonna make all your feelings go away. You have to face your emotions, embrace them, and go through the motions before moving on."
He hated that you seemed to be fine all of a sudden. That you were getting so close with this Brad guy all of a sudden. It might've been selfish, but Peter didn't wanna see you moving on just yet, he still had a tiny hope in the back of his brain that you might take him back if he waited till just the right time. But the more you kept talking, the more that tiny hope diminished.
You snorted, "Ok Dr. Spider-Man, I'm not sure a guy running around New York in a bright onesie is qualified to give out relationship advice, but you do you.”
He couldn't help but let out a laugh. "I'll let you know I give out great relationship advice and I'm not wearing a onesie," he huffed. "It's a super suit."
That just made you laugh harder, "Yeah, sure, whatever dude."
"So you and your team won?" he asked. He wasn't about to waste the only time in the day when he got to speak with you being jealous. He was gonna keep this conversation going. Try his best to give you what he never could as Peter.
"Yes!" you beamed. "Oh and look," you scrambled around looking for the crown you had received after you won. You had brought it up with you just so you could show him.
You put it on and straightened your posture, "We were rewarded with these fabulous crowns.”
Spider-Man let out a loud laugh. "Wow, you look like true royalty."
"Don't I?" you grinned. "I always wanted to be a princess when I grew up, so this is very fitting for me." You tapped the crown lightly and grinned at him.
Peter was sure he was grinning like a lovesick idiot. He remembered you telling him this, your crazy childhood dream during one of your late-night talks. He truly believed that if anyone in this whole world were some kind of royalty, it would be you.
“Just like Rapunzel.” He murmured. Your head perked up at that. “Oh my god,” you rush, “YES! Holy shit! She was my absolute favorite as a kid, how'd you know that?”
He fumbles a little but quickly finds himself. “You were humming ‘I See The Light’ a couple days ago. It was an educated guess.” You can hear the grin in his voice. “Glad to know I got it right though.”
You laughed a little and settled back down. “Dude, I'm not kidding. I used to eat yellow flowers as a kid 'cause I thought they’d give me magic hair.”
At that, Peter loses his mind. He’s cracking up and you're joining in beside him. This, he thinks to himself. This is what he’s been missing. This is how things should be. He can't help himself, the words are leaving his mouth before he can even gather his thoughts.
“So what about your ex? How’ve things been going with him?” Nice going dumbass. She's never gonna wanna talk with you again if you keep mentioning her ex-boyfriend.
You looked at him weirdly and started twisting the ring on your finger. “Why do you wanna know?”
“I-just I…” he scratched the back of his neck, “Well actually, I'm going through a breakup too, right now, and I guess…I don't know, hearing you talk about it, about him, makes me feel less alone.”
Peter Parker feels like shit. He feels like a total asshole. And yet, he doesn't feel bad enough to stop, to come clean. Not yet at least. He tried making himself feel better by thinking, ‘Well it's not a lie. I am going through a breakup. She just doesn't know with who.’
You stared up at him, shocked. He never shared anything about himself. Not a thing. You two joked back and forth but you were usually the one sharing personal issues (or triumphs, like today). You start to wonder what his personal life looks like. He can't be that much older than you from what you can tell by his sense of humor and some of his references. This man, no, boy, who spends practically all his time running around one of the most popular cities in the world, saving lives and changing them, is going through a breakup. And he’s currently sitting on a rooftop with you and talking about it.
You blew out a long breath. “If Spider-Man can’t find love, none of us stand a chance.”
He let out a soft laugh at that. “Ah, I wouldn't say that. I definitely have my fair share of flaws. And then some.”
You shake your head, “I'm sure the good outweighs the bad. I mean, come on,” you gestured towards him.
He laughed again. “So tell me, you still see him every day, right?
You nodded, deciding that if this made him feel less alone, you could do this.
“Is it hard?”
You shrugged, “Honestly, I have no idea. I’ve been avoiding him like the plague. I’ve only run into him once and it was when me and another friend went to grab ice cream at our old hangout spot. I couldn’t look at him. I haven’t spoken to him since everything and I don’t really want to. Not anytime soon.”
He sighed. Of course, you didn’t wanna speak to him as Peter. He’d totally fucked you over, he’s lucky he found any kind of loophole at all because he really doesn’t think he can handle not speaking completely.
“How do you think he feels?” He has no clue where the question came from but now that he’s asked, he can’t help the curiosity bubbling in him.
You run a hand through your hair and sigh, “I have no idea. One second he’s avoiding eye contact in the school hallway and the next, he’s staring daggers at me in an ice cream shop. He’s weird.”
Spider-Man chuckled lightly, “Yeah, he sounds like he is.”
“Do you see your ex a lot?” You hope he doesn’t see it as prying, you just want to see how similar your situations are.
“Yeah, actually, I do.” He nods but says nothing else.
“Is it hard?” You ask softly.
He nods again, keeping his eyes low. “Crazy hard. Especially when I know everything is my fault.”
“Do you think she’d ever forgive you?” He only shrugged. “Do you want her to forgive you?”
He looks up at you, “Would you ever forgive your ex? After whatever it is that he did, I mean.”
You took a moment to think. “I don’t know. I think it’s different. I mean, I don’t know what happened between you guys, but I think with Peter and I, I think he was starting to lose interest.”
He can feel his heart drop. “What? Why would you say that?”
“Yeah,” you continued, not taking notice of the spider slightly freaking out beside you, “he just stopped caring. Stopped showing up, and stopped listening. If I didn’t know any better I’d actually think he’d cheated on me.”
“No way! I mean-,” he cleared his throat a little, trying not to sound as anxious as he felt, “Do you… do you actually that he did? Cheated, I mean. Do you seriously think he cheated on you?”
Please say no, please say no, please say-
“No, of course not,” you told him honestly. “Peter’s a lot of things, but he’s not a cheater. I’d accuse him of that.” You paused for a moment. “But there was something…I don’t know what. There was something he wasn’t telling me.”
He let out a breath of relief. Thank god, he doesn’t think he could’ve handled knowing you thought of him that way. And it’s true, he would’ve never stooped so low. As for the ‘something’…
“Say he were to show up, right now, knocking on your door. Begging to have you back and swearing that he’s changed. Would it work?” He asked half serious and half joking.
You laughed a little, “No, but it’d probably piss off my parents.”
He grinned beside you, his mask shifting slightly at the movement. “Aw come on. Not one for big romantic gestures?” He nudged your shoulder a little.
You smiled but your expression fell as you thought about his words some more. “No, I’m just not one for empty promises. Which is all he had to give me after a while. He used to be amazing, he used to be the perfect boyfriend. The Peter I knew disappeared and I wasn’t a fan of the one who replaced him.”
You look up at him and grin. “If there’s any chance of anything being repaired between us. Even a friendship. He’s gonna need to get his shit together.”
“So he cheated on her, which fueled her depression, and ultimately led to her suicide. And that wasn’t enough so he burned her most of her work, and profited off of the rest of it after she died!”
This is what your mornings looked like lately. Hanging out with MJ so much had been…interesting to say the least. There was always something you could learn from her. Currently, she was telling you all about some ancient female author’s shitty husband as you waited beside her locker while she grabbed everything she’d need for her next class.
“Every article online about it says ‘allegedly’ but fuck that. It’s totally the truth,” She finished.
“God. That sounds awful,” you grimaced. “Whatever happened to him? Didn’t they have kids?”
“Oh, he married someone, won a ton of awards everyone loved him. And yes, a son, who also dies by suicide, and a daughter. I'm pretty sure she writes kids' books now.”
You sucked in a breath. “Holy shit. And where did you learn all this?”
She shrugged. “I read a lot.”
“Right,” you nod, unable to completely shake off the grossness that story left you feeling. “So,” you started, hoping to change the subject. “What do you have next again?”
“Biology. But I think we have a sub today, so that’ll be fun.” She slammed her locker shut, leaned on it slightly, and turned toward you. “What about you?”
You shook your head at her, “Free period. I was gonna catch up on my reading for AP Lit. Hey,” you wondered aloud, “is it that sub that marks people tardy even if they’re a second late? I can’t stand him.”
She sprung up. “Shit. Shit. Fuck,” she rushed out. “It is. And I can’t get another tardy otherwise I get detention. Again. And my parents would kill me.”
You nodded, completely understanding. “Okay. Well, I’m just gonna go grab my stuff and head to the library. See you later!”
“Bye Y/N/N!” She yelled over her shoulder, already halfway down the hall.
You laughed lightly before heading to your own locker. You opened it and grabbed your bag when you felt a tap on your shoulder.
You slam your locker shut and turn around, only to come face to face with Brad. “Hey, Brad!” You grinned.
You’d never really noticed Brad before. You never had anything against him, you both just ran in different crowds. Even after you both started working on the play, you were friendly with each other but it never went past a simple smile, wave, or quick ‘hello’. But in light of recent events, you were really starting to think of him as a friend.
“Hey.” He smiled right back. “Saw you here and thought I’d just stop by and ask how you’ve been.”
You gave him a closed-lip smile as you leaned back against the lockers. “That’s sweet. I’ve been okay, long morning though. What about you?”
He nodded. “Same. Stayed up pretty late last night going over my lines.”
“Really? Don’t really think you need that. I’ve seen you at rehearsals, you’re a natural Brad.”
“Yeah? You think?” He grinned wide at your compliment and ran a hand over his hair. “I’ve got ‘em memorized and all, but I just wanna make sure I know them, y’know?”
You nodded. He wants to make sure his delivery is as good as his memory. That’s another thing you didn’t expect from Brad Davis. His passion for theater.
“Well like I said, I’ve seen you at rehearsals and I mean it when I say I think you’re fine. More than fine actually. So don’t stress yourself out Davis, you’re gonna be amazing.”
He beamed at you like a child. “Thank you Y/N, seriously. You don’t know how much that means.”
You smiled right back at him. “Anytime.”
It was quiet between you two for a bit, and you didn’t really know what to say. You were about to ask if he had a class he needed to get to when, suddenly, he took a few steps closer to you.
That automatically took any words that might’ve been on your tongue and threw them in the dumpster behind the school.
“There’s um, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you, actually.” His voice is softer but, you hear every word and you can almost feel his breath on your face.
“Oh?” Your voice matches his volume. This can't be happening. He knows you just broke up with Peter. He’s gotta be kidding. Or maybe, he’s about to ask something about the play. Yes, you think, he’s got a question about the play and he’s come to ask me, obviously, because I’m the director.
The halls are quiet now, everyone else is in class, at the library, or something. It's just you and Brad, standing so close you could count his lashes.
Just you and Brad. Brad, who won’t stop staring into your eyes for some reason, so you’re just left standing there….you and Brad.
And Peter.
The sound of squeaky sneakers running down the hall seems to break him out of whatever trance he was held in and he steps back a bit, almost causing you to let out an audible sigh of relief. God, you could just kiss the person who decided to unintentionally interrupt whatever moment was just happening between you two.
Or not.
Because when you both turned to see who it was, your heart fell. Peter Parker is standing there, backpack hanging off his elbow, binder bursting with loose papers in hand, and staring at you like a deer caught in headlights.
For a second, none of you say anything. Brad’s looking confused, staring at Peter. Peter is looking at you, then at Brad, then at you again. And you, well, you’re just wishing the school hallway would split in half and swallow you whole. You’ve run through a few different scenarios in your head, and falling into the earth’s core sounds the most appealing.
Then Peter moves closer, clearing his throat as he approaches the both of you. “Hey guys, how’ve you been?” He asked.
Neither you nor Brad replied.
“Right. Hey man,” he turned to face Brad, his face suddenly serious, “don’t you drive a black BMW? Red rims, red interior?”
“Um, yeah, I do,” Brad answered skeptically.
Peter blew out a long breath. “Think you might be in trouble dude. I just heard the principal saying he was gonna get it towed, something about you parking wrong.”
“What?!” Brad’s whole demeanor changed on a dime and you almost felt sorry for him.
Peter held up both his hands. “I’m serious man, that’s what I heard. But don’t ask me,” he pointed to the hall behind him, “go ask Mr. Morita.”
Brad stared at you for a moment before walking off, mumbling something about ‘another fucking ticket’ as you watched him leave. You almost grabbed his arm like a child, almost asked him to stay, just so you wouldn’t be alone with Peter.
You swallowed. Brad had finally turned the corner, leaving him officially out of your eyesight and leaving you standing alone with your ex. It’s funny really, how you went from talking about suicidal classic authors with your friend a few minutes ago, to this.
Yup, the Earth’s core sounds amazing right now.
For all the words he had to say when Brad was here, Peter was awfully silent now, doing that weird stare thing he did in the ice cream shop the other day. But there was no Ned to play polite this time, and no MJ to hold on a leash so she doesn’t bite. It was just you and him.
And you had no problem running.
You turned so quick, it took him a second to register the movement, and by the time he did, you were halfway down the hall. He ran after you.
“Y/N, wait. Please.” He reached out a hand to place on your shoulder. You jerked away, his hand barely brushing your cardigan.
You’re both standing in the hallway, and you’re still avoiding his eyes when you say, “We’re not doing this.” You shook your head and ran off, leaving a somber-eyed Peter in your wake.
There was no parking violation. Peter lied. But he had to.
He’d gotten caught up doing some last-minute homework in the library. Spider-Man duties were keeping him busy lately because when he wasn’t fighting crime on the streets of Queens, he was spending time with you.
He knows it isn’t right, he knows it isn’t fair, but god if it doesn’t feel good. He loves spending time with you and he hates that he can’t do it more often, hates even more that it’s his fault. And he damn sure wasn’t going to cut your meetups short because he had a few math questions waiting to be answered.
So on his way back, the halls were empty when he suddenly heard a very familiar voice. You.
But you were with someone. Brad. The thought made him roll his eyes.
You were currently going off about how great Brad was doing so far in his role in the play you were managing. Stupid Brad, Peter was sure the only reason anything was going right in the planning of the show was because of you, you were the best person they could’ve picked for the job and all Brad had to do was say a few lines. You were the one who dealt with everything else. Brad should’ve been praising you, not the other way around.
He’d heard Brad’s response to your compliments and almost rolled his eyes again until he heard your response. Of course, you were being an absolute sweetheart. You probably had no clue what words like that meant coming for someone like you. You were probably oblivious to your effect on people, as you were probably oblivious to Brad’s true feelings about you.
You both went quiet for a moment, leaving Peter to wonder what happened when he heard Brad’s voice again.
“There’s um, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you, actually.”
No.
No, no, no, no. No.
If he were totally honest with himself, he knew it was coming. Especially after you told him about your little scavenger hunt around the school, and how well you got along with him, how kind he was being towards you. Brad didn’t just randomly see you in the hall and decide to say ‘hey’. He had class. Peter knew because he was supposed to be in that exact class right now.
He could handle another detention.
Before he even knew it, he was running down the halls. He had no idea what he was going to do, even less what he was going to say but none of that mattered at the moment. He just had to make sure this didn’t go any further. There was no way he could stand by and listen to you agree to go out with some other guy.
And then he was standing there, you’d both seen him, and it was too late to turn back. He stared for a minute, noticing how close Brad was standing next to you. His gaze flickered between you and him and all he could think was how wrong it would be for you to end up with someone like Brad. Stupid, stupid Brad, who hung out with all the stupid jocks, and threw those stupid house parties all the time. Who only talked about his stupid car, and what model it was-
An Idea popped into his head.
He couldn’t help it. Bro Peter stepped out and dealt with Brad, knowing the one thing that would completely get rid of him at the moment. He wasn’t thinking about the consequences.
As he’d suspected Brad left with almost no hesitation, Peter almost doubling over with how quickly he fell for it.
And then, he was left with you, and every ounce of confidence, every word in his lifelong vocabulary, crumbled. It never ceased to amaze him how easily you could completely undo him. He was an avenger, for crying out loud, he had literally saved New York and, he didn’t want to sound cocky but, the world. He had faced villains, of all sorts, so despicable, it’s a wonder he’s alive at all. But he did it.
But you…. He’s never felt like this before. So nervous, anxious, and scared to mess something up when all he wants is to fix it. In the superhero world, stunned silence isn’t an option. One moment of hesitation and everything could go to shit. But now, he’s not sure what the best course of action is. He’s not sure if speaking to you will make things worse, or better. If saying anything at all will give him more of a fighting chance. Was there even any chance of a fighting chance?
He didn’t miss how you hadn’t said a word and all he could think was ‘Please talk! Say something! Give me a hint for what I’m supposed to say!”
He was just stuck in place, staring directly at your face taking in your expression. You wouldn’t meet his eyes and there was no stopping the pang of guilt in his gut. You looked skittish, and it should’ve been no surprise to him when you turned to take off but it still took him a second to shake off that moment.
Just a second though, because soon he was running right after you. He wasn’t going to let you off so easy this time.
He’d called for you to stop, reaching his hand for your shoulder in hopes of getting you to listen. The way you jerk back as if his touch might burn you snaps something in him.
And there they are, your first words to him (Peter him) since the breakup:
“We’re not doing this.”
And you’re already moving away again, already slipping away from him again while his hand hangs in the air. He almost touched you. Maybe it was better that he didn’t because he thought he might’ve never let go.
He’s not sure if you meant what you told him as Spider-Man. Maybe it was just another one of your jokes. But he’s not ready to give up hope yet. He’ll give you time if that's what you need, he’s just scared of who else might try to make their move during that time.
For now, he’s just gonna work on getting his shit together.
And that starts with going to class, and getting his work turned in.
There’s a buzz in the air when you enter the auditorium the next day, that can only be described as highly-caffeinated-extremely-enthusiastic-high-school-theater-kids. You were all feeling the anticipation of your work these past few weeks being shared with all your friends and family.
You were walking around checking up on the last-minute touchups. You walked up on stage and stopped in your tracks. “Oh my god,” your hand flies up to your mouth, “you guys! This is beautiful!”
The set group (Noah, Lacy, and Jack) all grinned up at you. They all had some form of paint on them. Lacy adorned a pair of overalls that consisted of black and navy blue splatters going up and down the front of her. Jack’s T-shirt looked as if it were being used as a rag for his hands, so there were so many colors intertwining with each other, that you couldn’t pick out a single one. Noah was the messiest of the group, this specific set being mostly his responsibility. The knees of his jeans were stained black, but it didn’t end there. He looked like a tornado of night, with all sorts of shades clinging to any visible part of him. Blues, blacks, indigos, you name it. And they were all gleaming with pride.
“Hey Y/N,” Noah beamed at you. “We just finished the last backdrop.”
Behind them all was the backdrop which would be used for the last scene of the play. Lexi and Brad (or Stephanie and Gabriel, per the script) would stand in front of it and finally declare their love for one another, commencing their forever after with a passionate kiss.
You knew it was supposed to be a night sky, but what you hadn’t known was how well of a job they would do.
You let out a breathless laugh. “I can see that. It's stunning you guys, truly.” Although Midtown High was a school that specialized in the education of science and technology, the students here were extremely in touch with their creative sides as well. And that fact had never been more obvious to you than in that moment.
“There's still one more finishing touch, and then it’ll be perfect.” Lacy grinned at you before running backstage.
You were staring at where she'd just been, a furrow in your brows, when Jack nudged you lightly, “Oh, this is what she’s been waiting for since we started.”
Lacy came back, almost tripping over herself with how fast she was running. She held up a jar that sparkled in the auditorium lights as she moved it around, “Glitter!”
You grinned and clapped your hands together, “Oh I’m so happy I get to be here for this.”
Noah and Jack stood to the side while you and Lacy approached the large backdrop from the side. She made quick work of unscrewing the top and setting it beside her. She leaned over slightly and tilted the jar a tad before sprinkling it over the spacious work of art.
If sprinkling glitter were a profession, Lacy would be a pro.
You quickly figured out why she was so excited about this step, and it wasn’t just the glitter. Adding the glitter gave the scene more life. It made it look as if it were real, and you were looking at a sky bursting with sparkling stars.
After getting the area in front of her, she turns to you, holding out the jar. “Here! Give it a go.”
You stared a her a bit before quickly shaking your head, “Lace, I never thought someone could be good at sprinkling glitter, yet here I am. You were like a freaking fairy! I’d totally ruin it, and I can’t do that to you guys.”
You held your hands up and started backing away slowly. You could hear Jack and Noah laughing behind you.
Lacy just rolled her eyes with a smile stuck on her face. “Nonsense, Y/N, you’re a pro at everything you do,” she lowered her voice a little, “like that scavenger hunt?”
You gave her a look before turning around to make sure Mrs. Lightbody was nowhere around. “None of that,” you hiss, “that was a one-time thing! And it was a group effort!”
“Oh come on,” Noah this time. “We all know you had the hardest list of the bunch. Seriously Y/N, if Brad hadn’t shown me the list, I never would’ve believed that you did all that.”
Jack nodded. “Honestly, me and Lace wrote that as a little joke, like, ‘Hey, what if we were really wild with this? What would we do?’ And you came and proved us all wrong.”
Lacy hummed her agreement, “What they said, exactly. And this is just a bit of glitter. No big deal!” She grabbed your arm and pulled you towards her.
You laughed lightly, feeling yourself grow a little flustered under their praises. You grabbed the jar of glitter from Lacy and went to work, being extra careful so you don’t ruin all their hard work.
“This is good glitter,” you say softly, completely concentrated on the task at hand.
“Oh my gosh! I know right!” Lacy practically squeals her response. You laughed but could hear Noah groaning behind you. You finish with the glitter, screwing it shut before turning back to face him.
“There’s no such thing as ‘good glitter’,” He did air quotes on that last part, sounding extremely frustrated and something told you this wasn’t the first time they had this conversation.
“Yes, there is! She just said so!” Lacy was standing her ground. Suddenly, she turned towards you, “Y’know who can settle this? Lexi. Go find her Y/N, take the glitter, and ask her what she thinks. She’s gonna agree with me, I can already feel it.”
You held in a laugh. “Sure thing Lace.” You turn to go find your other friend and as you're walking away you can still hear them arguing, Noah not convinced that glitter could be good or bad. It’s just glitter.
You walked around the auditorium looking for Lexi and failing to find her. You started asking around, feeling sure that someone had to have seen her. You knew she was here, having seen her enter at the start of rehearsals. Walking around the front of the auditorium, peering down aisles, you were about to go check backstage when you heard a Brad Davis.
Now you’re not sure why, you didn’t do anything wrong after all, but a panic settled in you. Next thing you knew, you jumped into one of the aisles and crouched down.
He was walking up the main row between the chairs, script in hand, talking to someone beside him who you couldn’t see. They were moving closer to you. Shit.
In a rush, you start crawling, crawling, down to the opposite side of the aisle they were approaching. You were almost out, but you accidentally pulled down one of the chairs that are built to automatically flip up. Not a loud noise, but loud enough. You wince but don’t stop until you're sitting against the side of the row of chairs, out of their sight.
You could hear the chatter stop and the footsteps slow. You sucked in your breath and folded in on yourself even more. You were already coming up with a cover for yourself.
‘Oh, hey Brad. Yeah, I’m on the floor. Not avoiding you or anything, just….decided to see what the view of the stage would be like from here. Not good!’
It sucked and you really hoped you wouldn’t have to use it.
It seemed as though your luck for the day hadn’t expired because you heard them mumble amongst themselves and move on. After a few moments, You let out a sigh of relief and started crawling down towards the stage. You weren’t risking getting seen just yet.
You were starting to like Brad, you really were! But after recent events you had started to think the interest he’d taken in you wasn’t the same as the platonic one you’d taken in him. And you were bad at confrontation or being put on the spot. Obviously.
Plus you figured he’d want to talk about that weird moment with Peter in the hall the day before and you’d rather pretend that didn’t happen at all. Even you didn’t know what that was.
Moving slowly, you kept your head down, trying to reach the stage so you could just bolt behind the curtains. Suddenly, a pair of pointed-toe black flats came into your view. You paused and slowly looked up. In front of you stood Ms. Lightbody.
“Hi.” You said meekly. She looked down at you with a furrow in her brows, “Hello Miss Y/L/N. May I ask what you’re doing?”
You fumbled for a moment but finally found yourself. Clearing your throat, you stood up and dusted yourself off. “I dropped an earring.”
Way better than that other bullshit you were thinking of.
She stared at both your ears, which adorned a pair of earrings you never took off. “Oh?”
“I’ve already put it back in,” you explained to her lamely. She gazed somewhere behind you and you followed her stare. Brad and his friend were still walking up and down the main row, lost in some conversation. You gulped, if she had seen you earlier, it would’ve been fairly obvious to her the real reason behind your little floor exploration. And that was just embarrassing.
She hummed in response, “I see.” Her voice carried some tone of understanding and you felt yourself run hot with embarrassment under her gaze.
“Did you need something, Miss?” You rushed out quickly, hoping to change the subject.
“Yes,” she focused her gaze on you now, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say there was a sprinkle of amusement in her eyes.
Ms. Lightbody was a newer addition to Midtown’s staff. She came in to replace the school’s previous drama teacher, and she also subbed at times. Most of the student body disliked her, thinking her short-tempered and strict but you knew that was far from the truth. It seemed this play helped you better understand your peers and superiors alike. She was an amazing teacher and, contrary to popular belief, she wasn’t an impatient maniac who didn’t have the skill set to teach. She was always willing to help someone who didn’t understand, but what she didn’t tolerate was purposeful incompetence.
“Lexi is in one of the rooms backstage, I need you to go find her and tell her there’s one more scene we need to rehearse.” She paused and looked behind you again. “And I suggest you get to that soon because I think your friend, Mr. Davis, has spotted you.”
You blanched, unsure whether to dwell on the fact that she knew, or that Brad had spotted you. You turn slightly only to see Brad already looking towards you.
You quickly snapped your head towards the lady in front of you again. “On it!” You told her, not waiting for a response before shooting up the stage and behind the curtain.
You could’ve sworn you heard her laugh.
You were backstage looking for Lexi. It wasn’t like her to stay tucked away like this, since rehearsals had started she was always ready for anything, talking things over with the other cast members, ready for criticism but rarely needing it. There was probably no one on the cast who was as excited as her.
“Lex, you here?” You whispered softly. Behind the stage was empty and dark. You walked around carefully, trying not to accidentally trip on anything of the string or left-out equipment. All of this was going to need to be changed before tomorrow evening.
Suddenly, so quiet you could barely hear it, was a shuffling noise. You looked around for some switch, finding it on the wall to your left. You switched it on and the action earned you a hiss from someone a little further in the room.
You turned quickly, finding Lexi sitting at one of the small makeup desks, hands coming up to cover her face as if she were some vampire.
That worried you.
You rushed to her, placing a soft hand on her shoulder. “Lex,” your tone was quiet so as not to disturb her anymore. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?”
She looked up at you, hair disheveled, face a little pale, and eyes tired. “No, no I’m fine.” She shook her head but you weren’t convinced.
You moved to sit at the desk next to her. “Okay,” you said softly, “then why are you sitting back here?”
She sighed a little. “I’ve just had a small headache since lunch. But I’ll be okay really.
Your frown only deepens. “Did you eat today? Drink water?”
She nodded then rubbed her temples a little, shutting her eyes as she did so. “It’s probably my fault, I didn’t sleep well last night and I’m just tired.”
Her eyes snapped open and she looked more alert now. She clasped her hands together and smiled at you. “So wake me up Y/N/N. Tell me something interesting.”
Skeptically, you eyed her up and down. “Are you sure that's all? Should I take you to see the nurse?”
She shook her head again, her hair flying around her face as she did so. “No. I’m actually feeling better already, talking to you. I think the smell of Noah’s Axe Body Spray was just really setting everything off.” She gestured her hands around herself.
You laughed, glad to see her acting like herself again. “But seriously,” she said, putting a hand on your knee. “Talk to me, it’s waking me up. How was your day?”
You let out a breath and leaned back in the chair, looking up to the ceiling. “Brad asked me out.”
She gasped so loud, you started up in your seat. “Shut up. Shut up!”
Smiling, you shook your head. “Well not yet. But I know it’s coming, you know what I mean? He keeps trying to get me alone, and he gets really close and starts staring into my eyes and everything. But he keeps getting interrupted.”
She gasped again, softer this time, and held her hand to her chest. “Oh my god. That’s so cute! Are you gonna say yes?”
You stilled for a moment. Were you going to say yes? You’d figured out what was most likely coming your way, but you hadn’t really thought of how to handle it. You couldn’t crawl across floors to avoid him forever. That would make graduation very awkward.
And at the same time, you didn’t want to reject him. Brad was sweet, maybe not the type of person you usually went for, but he had his own things. Maybe you needed something new, something different.
But something in your gut was telling you maybe you shouldn’t go out with someone who made you panic-crawl on the floor just to avoid having a conversation with them.
Not to mention, you just weren’t interested in him like that. At all.
Lexi was going on about something or other, seemingly fine at the moment. “I totally knew he was into you. I mean, that whole picking you up in the library thing?” She shook her head. “Not just a platonic thing.”
You laughed loudly and stood up. You held out a hand for her to take. “Come on Lex, everyone’s looking for their star.”
She took your hand and stood. “I bet they are, I’ll have to apologize for hogging you from them.”
You laughed again and started pushing her towards the front stage. “Oh! I almost forgot to tell you! We’re playing with glitter!”
The rest of the day went by smoothly. You, Lexi, and Lacy applied the finishing touches to the backdrop. As Lacy had guessed, Lexi agreed with her. Lacy went on about all the qualities the perfect glitter should consist of; ‘catches the light, soft, and dustable.’
You were sure that last one wasn’t even a word but Noah gave in eventually and let the girls have their win. But that wasn’t enough for the three of you. Not wanting to put the glitter away just yet, you started sprinkling it on each other.
Word spread across the auditorium like wildfire, and soon, a line started forming on the stage to get glitter sprinkled on you, boys and girls alike. Ms. Lightbody shut that down quick.
You stuck to avoiding Brad for the rest of the day. It wasn’t hard, you were both busy, him being one of the leads and you helping with a little bit of everything and making sure everyone stayed in order (with the exception of the glitter fiasco).
At the end, Ms. Lightbody had gathered you all around to talk about how tomorrow was going to go. She went over the basics, what time the show was going to start, and what time you all had to be there. It was things you all already knew but it was good to go over. In the end, you thought she looked a little sad, and apparently, you weren’t the only one because someone else pointed it out. That made everyone jump and you all pulled her into a group hug. This little group had become like a crazy family and you were forever grateful you had a chance to be part of it.
You left quickly after that, wanting to get out before Brad offered to walk you home or something. You said bye to your friends, taking extra time with Lexi. She had been more reserved after you two talked, not as tired as you’d found her backstage, but still not quite herself. You told her to get lots of sleep tonight. She was needed tomorrow
Now, you were sitting on the rooftop ledge, kicking your feet as Spider-Man sat next to you.
“Are you excited?” He asked.
You nodded, smiling. “Very. We’ve all been working really hard for this. And you should see how great a job everyone has done. I can’t wait to see it all put together finally.”
“I’m sure you’ve done a great job,” he nods. “I really wish I could be there. You’re gonna need to take some videos for me. Show me afterward.”
You grinned wide. “Seriously? You’d wanna see?”
“Heck yea I wanna see,” he said, voice serious.
“Okay.” You nodded. “I’ll take plenty of videos, don’t worry.”
“Thank you.” He said, raising a hand a ruffling your hair. You laughed and slapped his hand away. He stared at you a little before asking, “What’s in your hair?
You grinned wide. “Glitter.”
He shook his head, laughing. “I don’t even wanna know.” You giggled beside him.
“Are your friends going to be there?” He asked.
“Um,” you say, still smiling. “Yeah, I think so. They said they will, and I think it’ll be fun.” MJ had told you she was definitely going to be there, she couldn’t wait to make fun of the kids in the play, she’d already bought her ticket. Ned said he wanted to see it as well, and Peter…well, after recent events you couldn’t think of any reason he’d be there. He probably wouldn’t be able to find the time in his busy schedule, even if you two were still together. So it was better like this.
“What about your parents? Are they gonna try to make it?”
A beat passed before you replied. “No,” you shook your head. “I don’t think they’re gonna be there.”
He was quiet for a moment, not sure what to say. He almost regretted asking.
“But it’s okay,” you said, your voice so soft, it took everything in him not to reach over and pull you into his arms. “I wasn’t expecting them to anyway. I have my friends, that’s enough.” You cleared your throat and wrapped your arms around yourself.
He watched you for a bit and it hit him then, just how strong you were. How much you had on your plate at the moment. How little you let it show.
Your parents were basically roommates to you, you barely saw them, they were just there. The play you were managing? While everyone else had one job, one task they needed to focus on and get done, you were involved in everything. He remembered you mentioned to him a few weeks ago something about your phone blowing up since planning started. He never thought much of it then.
The more he thought about it, the more he realized you were always doing this. When it wasn’t the play it was something with your family, or tutoring other kids at school. And on top of all of that, you were always available for your friends whenever they needed you, and your grades never slipped. Your essays and tests were used by your teachers as examples. He always knew, but not really. It was painfully obvious right now. And it was even more obvious to him that he never helped. He should’ve helped make things easier for you, because he loves you, because he cares for you. But all he did was add to your plate. The thought made him feel sick.
“I’m so sorry,” Even through his voice-changer you could hear the sincerity, the despair in his voice. Your brows furrowed.
“You don’t need to apologize, it’s not that big of a deal. I swear,” you told him sincerely.
He nodded but the movement almost looked forced. “How have you been?”
You paused. “Good,” you nodded, as if confirming your own statement. “Busy, but good.”
“Have you taken a moment to breathe recently? Just relax yourself for a few seconds?”
You were taken aback by his question. No one had ever asked you that. “I- I don’t think so,” you replied quietly.
“Alright, that’s okay, we can do that together. Here,” he held out both his hands, palms up. “put your hands in mine.”
You followed his lead and placed your hands in his. The material of his suit felt smooth, but thicker than it looked, and you were surprised to see how well your hands fit together.
“Close your eyes.” He said, and you saw the whites of his mask flicker shut. You followed his lead.
“Great. Now big breath, through your mouth.” You sucked in a handful of air, the sound ringing out like a quick gasp.
His hands gave yours a gentle squeeze. “No,” he said, voice soft. You felt your face heat up and you tried again, this time slowly letting the air enter and fill your lungs.
“Now out through the nose.”
You let the air leave you, not even realizing how tense you were until you felt yourself relax. Your eyes fluttered open and you found him already staring at you. His thumbs had started gently caressing your hands and you found you didn’t mind at all.
“A few more times.” He told you, and you nodded at him. You closed your eyes again and repeated your actions from before, more sure of yourself this time.
When you had finished, you opened your eyes again. His eyes were still open and you thought his mask shifted into something like a grin.
“Better?” He asked you, and you smiled, nodding your head. It was crazy to you to think about how over these past few days, that very mask had turned into a comforting sight for you. You really thought of New York’s Spider-Man as a friend. And you hoped he felt the same.
You nodded again, unable to take your eyes off of him. You weren’t even aware you were still holding hands until he removed his from yours. You almost protested, your hands suddenly feeling colder than they ever have.
But then he brought his hands up to cup each side of your face.
Oh.
You were sure you were melting. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt like this, and you couldn’t even see his face! You wished he’d just rip it off, you wouldn’t care who was underneath.
He brought his face closer and leaned his forehead against yours. Your eyes fluttered shut. You stayed that way for a minute, both of you just enjoying the moment before you decided to speak.
“Take it off.” You whispered.
“What?” He asked, his voice matching your volume. You had opened your eyes and you were looking at him now. You could clearly see the eyes of his mask were still closed and you fought off a smile.
You brought up your hand to his face and traced his jawline. You could feel his jaw flex underneath your fingers and you could’ve sworn you heard him gulp.
“Take it off.” You repeated, your thumbs now caressing his cheekbones.
His eyes flew open and he leaned back. “No,” he shook his head, moving even further from where you two were seated next to each other.
Your brows shot up at his sudden change of demeanor. You wished you hadn’t said anything. “Ok,” you said, voice quiet. “You don’t have to. I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I was just- ugh I’m so sorry.”
“No!” He repeated. “Don’t apologize I- you did nothing wrong.”
But the way he was acting was making you feel otherwise.
“I have to go. Good luck tomorrow.” He said, stood up, flung out his wrist, and started swinging through the buildings faster than you could blink.
Fuck.
You were a wreck.
Everyone was running all over the place, orders being shouted across the entire backstage. Some people seemed to have invited their friends to hang out backstage (which was not allowed). Every corner was packed. And you were in the middle of it all.
“Y/N!” Ms. Lightbody called for you from across the swarm of bodies. You made your way through everyone, not stopping until you were standing in from of her. She placed a hand on your shoulder and steered you until you were both standing in a corner, as far away from the others as you could get.
“Miss Walker isn’t here, and it’s starting to become a problem.” She told you, voice serious.
You blanched. “Lexi isn’t here yet?!”
She shushed you. “I don’t want to start a commotion. Things are barely going smoothly as is, and this will not make it better. Everyone will start worrying if they find out their lead hasn’t arrived, and we cannot have that.”
You nodded at her, mind racing. “What do we do?”
She sighed, “For now? Wait and hope for the best, there’s still a bit more time.”
You nodded again and she took a second to look around the room. “What is all this? Half these kids have no business here!” She turned towards you again. “I'm going to try to reach Miss Walker’s mother, deal with all these children Y/N, please. I want them gone by the time I get back.”
She turned to leave before she remembered something that had her turning right back, “You have Miss Walker’s contact information, correct?” You nodded at her again. “Great. Try to get ahold of her, will you? The sooner we figure this out the better.”
“Sure thing Ms. Lightbody.” You told her, waving her off, your voice sounding a hundred times more confident than you felt.
You watched her walk out the back door to make her phone call, and you paused for a moment, unsure what to do first. You turned and pulled out your phone. Heading for the door Ms. Lightbody just walked out of, you pulled up your message thread with Lexi.
girl WRU !!!
you were needed like 30 mins ago !!!!
get here-
You bumped into someone, your phone flying out of your hand before you could send that last one. You would’ve been sent flying backward if the person hadn’t gripped your waist tight to keep you steady.
“Woah, careful.”
You’d know that voice anywhere. Peter.
“Parker,” you said, backing away quickly. “What are you doing here?” And you don’t mean for it to come out as harsh as it did but…there’s just a lot on your plate right now.
And it seems he can tell. He bent over to grab your phone, placing it back in your hands. “The lady at the office saw me walking by and asked me to drop these off.” He waved a big bag you hadn’t noticed in his other hand.
You reached for it, saying, “Oh my god, perfect.” At the same time, he asked, “Are you okay?”
You completely ignored him, taking the bag from his hands. Turning around, you caught Jack walking by at just the right moment. “Jack! Here,” you called him over, “Those supplies you guys were asking for.”
“Sweet, thanks Y/N/N!” He said, leaning in to give you a quick hug. You smile but then quickly shove him away, “Thank J, but you really need to go finish. Like, right now.”
He straightened his posture and saluted you. “Ma’am yes ma’am!” He said, then he turned to Peter, who had been watching the whole exchange, “Sup Parker.” He sent a little head nod towards him, as he started walking away.
Peter returned it, brows slightly furrowed as he looked between the two of you, “Hey man.”
You started walking around, trying to count up how many people there were who weren’t a part of the cast or crew.
One, two, three-
You felt a hand placed on your shoulder and you turned quickly, only to see Peter still hasn’t left.
You looked at him in disbelief. The nerve of this guy. There’s no way he seriously thinks you’re going to talk about the two of you right now, is there?
“How are you?” He asks again and you’ve never found someone dumber than you did right now.
“Hello?! Things aren’t going too hot in case you can’t tell, and you aren’t exactly helping right now!”
He nodded, “Okay. What can I do to help?”
You scoffed. “I don’t know, leave. It’s so crowded in here and I have to get all these extra people out. Shit,” you smacked your forehead. “I forgot I have to find Lexi. Fuck! And I have to-.”
“Y/N!” Someone shouted your name for the umpteenth time that night. You turned and met Vanessa, one of the people in charge of makeup.
“We’re out of setting powder.”
“What?!”
She winces. “I know, I’m so sorry. We thought we had enough but then some of the boys were playing and knocked over-,”
You waved her off, not wanting to hear the rest of it. “Okay, okay. Do none of the other girls have any extra? Is no one willing to lend you some?”
She shook her head. “No! I already asked. I don’t know what to do.”
“I’ll get you some.” Peter stepped in. “Just send me a picture of what it looks like and I’ll be back in ten minutes tops.”
Vanessa gasped, “Dude. You’re a lifesaver. Y/N,” she met your eyes, “your boyfriend is a lifesaver!”
“Oh he’s not-,” you started, but she was already walking away. You turned towards Peter, the disbelief on your face getting stronger every time you looked at him today.
You started shaking your head, “What on earth are you doing Parker?”
“Helping you.” He said as if it were the easiest thing on earth. He wondered if you were making a conscious effort not to say his first name.
Your head wouldn’t stop shaking left and right. “What? What do you- I don’t-,”
He cut you off, “And I’m gonna get rid of all the people who don’t belong here too.” He looked around the room before looking down at you. “You, just…take care of yourself Y/N. Don’t stress too much, it’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure you even have the time?”
Shit.
His face fell and you immediately felt guilt seep into your bones.
“Peter I’m so-,”
He cut you off again, his voice quieter this time. “No, that was..that was fair. But I mean it.” He raised his voice, sounding more sure now. “I’m going to help you out.”
He stepped away from you suddenly, leaving you standing with your mouth agape. He walked to the end of the room, stopping right before the door. “Alright, everyone! Listen up,” He clapped his hands together, his voice booming around the room. Everyone quieted down to hear him.
“Unless you had some part in putting all this together, I’m going to need you to follow me out right now. Let everyone do their thing, we don’t need to bother them any more than we already have.”
Everyone was still for a second.
“And,” he continued, “Ms. Lightbody gave me permission to start handing out detentions.”
That got everyone moving. Your brows furrowed as a sea of students started moving through the room and out the door. Ms. Lightbody did no such thing.
Peter stood to the side, holding the door open. It had come down to the last few people and Peter held back a boy. “You,” he told him, “I’m gonna need you to stay outside this door and make sure no one enters unless they’re part of the cast or crew. We can’t have that happening again.”
“Oh shit. Like a bouncer?” The kid asked eagerly.
Peter stared for a bit before he nodded. “Yeah man, exactly. And listen,” he pointed at you, “if you’re not sure, you ask her, alright?”
The boy turned towards you and you offered him a smile. “Damn! She’s smokin’!” He exclaimed. If you weren’t so busy, you might’ve blushed.
Peter narrowed his eyes, and it seemed like he was considering something before he quickly shook his head. He grabbed the boy by the shoulder and placed him on the outside of the door.
“Vanessa!” He shouted. “Send me a picture of the powder, I’m going right now.”
“Already sent Pete, thanks!” She shouted back, giving him a thumbs up from where she was standing by the makeup chairs.
Pete? Why would she call him Pete? She doesn’t know him like that. I used to call him Pete-
You stopped your train of thought. You could not afford to think like that right now.
“Perfect.” He said, he made to move away but his eyes met yours and he froze. “I’m gonna…” he trailed off, feet stuck to the ground as his thumb pointed to the door.
“Of course,” you nodded quickly. “And Peter,” you stop him before he turns to go, “thank you. So much.” You hoped your voice carried the sincerity you felt.
He smiled at you softly, “Anything for you Y/N/N.”
This time, you did blush. You turned away before he could see you and placed a palm on your forehead.
“Wow,” a voice said from beside you. Brad. “Didn’t know Parker had that in him.”
“Yeah,” you whispered, “me either.”
“Hey, where’s Lexi?” Someone in the room asked. You felt your heart drop. Lexi. You’d completely forgotten about her after that whole thing with Peter.
You had a show that needed to start in less than an hour and your star still hadn’t shown up.
You pulled out your phone again, pulling up her contact. You were about to hit the ‘call’ button but right then, Ms. Lightbody walked in.
She was holding her phone to her ear, and she was staring straight at you, her face full of dread.
“Lexi can’t make it. She’s got some type of flu, she can’t get out of bed. I am on the phone with her mother right now.”
Your jaw dropped. Chatter broke out everywhere. The kids were panicking, wondering what to do now, now that the lead of the whole show wasn’t going to be here.
Fuck. You should’ve known, yesterday when you saw her. But you were stupid enough to believe it was just lack of sleep. You should’ve figured it out faster so you could’ve planned something. Stupid, stupid, stupid-
“Miss Y/L/N.” You looked up when you heard your name. “She’s asking to speak to you.” Ms. Lightbody holds her phone out for you to take.
Your eyes widen, “Me?”
She nodded, hand still outstretched toward you. You swallowed and walked your way toward her. You reached for the phone and held it to your ear. The chatter around the room stopped, everyone straining to hear what was going to happen next.
“Hello?”
“It wasn’t the Axe Body Spray.”
You barked out a laugh at the unexpected joke. “Lex! Be serious, what happened.”
“I got sick when I got home from rehearsal yesterday, I’ve been asleep since.” It was then that you heard how different her voice sounded. Nasally and broken, like she’d swallowed a lawn mower.
“My mom’s only woken me up about twice to drink some medicine,” she continued, breaking into a fit of coughing at the end of her sentence. Yeah, maybe it was a good thing she didn’t come.
“Lex,” you repeated, sounding more desperate this time, “what’re we gonna do?”
“Wait,” someone in the room with you starts, “what about her understudy?”
“There is no understudy, dumbass!” Someone quipped right back.
“You,” Lexi said.
“Huh?” You replied.
“You, Y/N.” She repeated. “You need to do it. You need to play Stephanie. No one else could do it. You know all the lines. You know the whole play.”
You paled. “Be so fucking for real with me right now Lexi Walker.”
“I am.” She said seriously. Or, as seriously as she could sound when she had to cough after every other word she spoke.
People were leaning in now, trying to hear what was going on between the two of you. You ignored them, “Lex, there’s no way. You know I can’t do that.”
“Oh my god!” Someone shouted. Lacy. “Y/N! Y/N can do it!”
You shook your head quickly. “No! I can’t!” You replied to her, the phone still pressed to your ear.
“You have to, Y/N, please, for me. You know how much this means to me. You’re the only person I trust,” Lexi begged
There are shouts from your cast-mates now, encouraging you to take the role when that was the last thing you wanted to do.
“Lex, babe,” you tried to reason, “I didn’t rehearse as much as you did! I don’t know it like you.”
“No,” she agreed, “you know it better. All that time you spent, going over every detail of the set, the costumes, the script. It was for this. Now please, you know you can do it.”
You paused. You didn’t want to, but it was really looking like you had no choice. You looked around at everyone in the room, they all worked so hard, hell, you worked so hard to make this happen. You weren’t gonna let it all be for nothing.
You rubbed your temple with one hand, the other holding the phone up to your ear. “Do you guys really think I can do it?” You looked around at everyone, hoping they’d answer honestly.
A chorus of agreement rang out from the group but Ms. Lightbody stepped in. “Miss Y/L/N,” she started, “I know none of this has been ideal. And I know we’re asking a lot. You didn’t come in today expecting to step onto that stage, but right now, that’s what we need. And I think we would all appreciate your help in these unexpected circumstances.”
You stared at her for a moment. You always wondered why she spoke so formally all the time, maybe one day you’ll ask her.
“Sure, I’m down.” You shrugged and everyone started cheering.
“Oh good,” Lexi sighed, “cause I need to go throw up right now, so bye. Tell everyone to take lots of photos and videos for me please!”
You winced. “We will Lex, you just work on feeling better. Now go, I love you.”
“Love you too babe.” She replied before hanging up quickly.
“Alright,” Ms. Lightbody started pushing you to the makeup chairs. “Have a seat Y/N. Girls,” she turned toward the makeup crew. “Get started on her, afterward, take her to hair and then, get her into her costume.”
They all chorused an agreement and started fussing over you. You were one of the last people to get ready, everyone one else having already had their turn.
With so many people working on you, your makeup was done in no time. Soon, only Vanessa was left and she was powdering your face.
“Peter came back?” You asked her once you realized what she was holding in her hands.
She nodded. “Yeah, a few minutes ago, but he didn’t come in, left the stuff with the dude outside the door who’s calling himself our ‘bouncer’.”
You nodded, “Oh okay.”
“You’ve got a great boyfriend Y/N, seriously. Not many guys I know would help out like that, no matter…”
You zoned out while she was doing the finishing touches on your face. Not many guys you know either, Peter included. Or at least, the Peter you’d come to find yourself in a relationship with. The old Peter, however, would’ve done anything for you, and you for him. You got a glimpse of him earlier tonight and you wondered what it was that triggered that.
The few moments of silence gave you time to go over everything that's been happening recently in your head. You’ve had a hectic past few weeks, but especially this last week. With the last few rehearsals, everything with Peter, everything with Spider-Man. Oh…
And then there was him…
There was a moment yesterday. You tried to gaslight yourself into thinking you imagined it but you didn’t. It was real. Until you ruined it.
You’d gone to bed late last night, staying on the roof even after he’d left in case he decided to come back so you could apologize again. You’d felt downright terrible all night. And this morning.
It was none of your business to ask him to take off his mask. Who the hell did you think you were? There might’ve been something before but there was no way…not after the way he reacted last night. You’d pissed him off. And now you’d lost another friend.
“There you go!” Vanessa said, pulling back from your face and grinning. She held up a mirror for you to take a look. “What do you think? I think it matches Stephanie’s description pretty well, no?”
You gasped, “Oh my god Vanessa, this is exactly how I pictured her! When all this is over you have to teach me how to do my eyeliner like this.”
“Deal.” She grinned.
Suddenly, Ms. Lightbody walked by. “Who is that child standing outside the door?” She asked. Vanessa shot you a look and you subtly shook your head at her, and at anyone who turned towards you.
No one answered her. “He asked me for my ID?!” You choked back a laugh. “He doesn’t even go here!” She continued. Everyone successfully avoided her, playing busy with whatever task they had in front of them. Vanessa kept brushing over your face with a clean brush while you both fought back smiles.
“Y/N!” Ms. Lightbody called. You shot out of your chair and approached her. “Yes ma’am?”
“Is your makeup all done?” You nodded while she examined your face. “Very well, head over to hair, we need everyone ready soon! Curtain opens in 15!”
That last one was directed at everybody and you could feel the shift in the atmosphere. If everyone wasn’t working before, they were now.
You headed over to hair and let one of the people there pin it up for you. After that, you were held into your costume, your friends pulling on layer after layer before finally, you were completely ready.
You looked in the mirror. “I look I came out a Jane Austen novel,” you murmured.
Lacy, who stood beside you, laughed. “And it suits you! You look beautiful Y/N, stunningly classic. Very vintage.” She nodded in approval.
You turned towards her and smiled, “Thank you, Lace.” You sucked in a breath and ran your hand down the hem of your costume. “I’m nervous,” you admitted shyly.
“Don’t be,” she replied, voice soft. “Hey, if you could pull off that scavenger hunt, this should be a piece of cake.” She smirked wickedly at you.
You laughed, “Actually, you’re right.”
“I always am.” she shrugged
“SHOWTIME EVERYONE, GET IN YOUR PLACES!” Ms. Lightbody’s voice boomed across the whole backstage.
You both looked at each other. “Break a leg.” She grinned at you.
You grinned right back. You could handle this.
The anxiety from before had mostly worn off. Now, all you felt were nervous jitters and even a little excitement. Everyone was right, you knew everything about this play like the back of your hand, and you were looking forward to being out there with people you’d come to think of as friends.
You got into place, standing beside Brad and some of your other cast-mates who were going to be in this first scene with you.
“Hey,” he said, voice low and he looked down at you with a large smile on his face.
“Hi,” you replied, smiling right back.
“Don’t think I got the chance to tell you, but I’m really happy you’re doing this.”
“Yeah, I think I am too.”
“Curtain warmers on?” Ms. Lightbody spoke into a little headset. “Perfect. And…action!”
The lights blinded you for a second, once the curtain opened, and you had to stop yourself from turning your face away. In the beat you had before the scene came to life, you chanced a glance at the crowd. You really wished you hadn’t.
Peter Parker was sitting front row.
As quickly as you looked, you averted your gaze, but not before you noticed a few things. Beside him sat Ned, and in the row behind them, right behind Ned’s chair, sat MJ. And all three of them had their mouths hanging open. You had to fight down the heat threatening to rise to your face.
You never told them, hell, you didn’t even know. What were they gonna think? There was no way you could pull this off, you were all fooling yourselves, everyone was wrong and-
The first line was delivered, and it all came to life.
You were panting, running backstage. There was a small intermission at the moment, and you had just changed your outfit, from the simple gown you were adorning, to a bigger one. This one was more detailed and more eye-catching. It was supposed to be special because it was meant for the last scene of the whole play. The confession. Your kiss with Brad.
In the heat of the moment, you’d forgotten that specific detail. And as you sat down in the makeup chair again and one of the girls reapplied your lipstick, it was all you could think about.
You had to kiss Brad. And Peter would be sitting front row watching the whole thing.
That shouldn’t matter. First of all, it was all part of an act. Even if you were still with Peter, (which you weren’t. You had to keep reminding yourself of that little detail) it wouldn’t have mattered because you were doing it for the play. A play you weren’t even planning on being a part of, acting-wise, of course.
And then there was Spider-Man. If there was anyone you had to be kissing right now, you wished it was him. But there was no chance of that happening after last night. You wondered how he was feeling right now. He’d probably tell you to relax and stop stressing yourself out.
The thought made you take in a breath through your mouth, and slowly exhale from your nose. Just like he’d taught you. You felt yourself relax and, not for the first time that night, you decided that you needed to just get through tonight. And then you could worry about everything else.
The girl helping you with your makeup (you didn’t recognize her, but appreciated the help nonetheless) pulled away and smiled. “Alright, I think you’re good to go.”
“Thank you.” You smiled back and stood from your chair.
Ms. Lightbody approached you, placing a hand on your shoulder, “Come on, Miss Y/L/N. We need to get you in place.”
You nodded as she led you to the wing on the side of the stage, the curtains were still down, and by the time they opened again, you would be standing on the makeshift balcony (built by the props team), soon to be joined by Brad.
You went to approach the steps of the balcony when you felt her hold you back.
“I wanted to thank you again Y/N. I know we were all planning on Miss Walker doing all this but honestly…I couldn’t be prouder.”
Your heart warmed at her confession. You were upset you didn’t get to see Lexi shine like you’d been planning but you hoped you’d do her proud. You were glad to know you did Ms. Lightbody proud.
Without saying a word, you throw your arms around her in a warm embrace. She quickly reciprocated.
“I know we’ve all given you a hard time these past few weeks, and we don’t say it enough but we appreciate you. All of us.”
You both pulled back and her eyes were full of emotion. “Thank you Y/N, truly. Now go, I’ll get Mr. Davis ready.”
You nodded and stepped onto the set, positioning yourself at the end of the balcony. The balcony protruded from the side of the stage and covered a quarter of it. The backdrop you’d been appreciating just yesterday now stood to your side. You saw parts of it glitter from the light leaking in from backstage and you stifled a laugh.
Soon, the curtain opened. You’d grown used to the lights by now, welcoming their glow over your face. You gripped the railing and played broken-hearted, right now, Stephanie and Gabriel had just had a falling out during a ball and you had run out onto the balcony to get some air.
“Stephanie.” Brad approached behind you, and you turned around in fake shock.
The hardest part about acting, you’d come to find, was keeping a serious face and not laughing at yourself or your partner.
“Leave me be, Gabriel.” You waved a hand at him, turning away.
He caught your arm and held it gently between the two of you, standing so close, you were trapped between the railing and him.
“I can’t,” he said, his voice strangled. He looked down at you, face so pained, you almost believed him.
And so it began, the two of you going back and forth, delivering your lines, monologues about your feelings for each other, and how nothing in the world mattered except holding the other person, even for a moment.
Brad was finishing up, he was pacing back and forth in front of you while you listened intently.
“…And all this, because I love you.” He stopped in front of you now, hands coming up to cup your face. You did your best to get your expression to convey the love you (or Stephanie) were supposed to be feeling and then it happened.
Brad leaned, crashing his lips onto yours. You throw your arms around him, meeting him just as eagerly, and tried your best not to think about all the people currently watching suck each other’s faces off. One of his hands traveled down to your waist while the other moved from your cheek to hold the back of your head as he dipped you. Cheers broke out across the crowd.
You two stayed locked together like that for a few moments as the curtains closed, and then you broke apart. You were both panting, faces flushed, but you didn’t have time to think about what just happened. You and Brad had started moving off the balcony and onto the actual stage itself, the other members of the cast and crew joining you to take the final bow.
You all lined up across the stage, hands interlocked. With you and Brad in the middle, the curtains opened. You could still hear the applause before, but now, it got even louder and you couldn’t help the big smile that overtook your face. People were whistling, and clapping, someone was even throwing roses. You all took a bow together, and rose together, throwing your interlocked hands in the air.
Your body was buzzing with adrenaline. It was over, you’d actually done it. You could see Ms. Lightbody standing to the side, gleaming with pride at you all.
Soon, you all let go of each other and started embracing and exchanging congratulations. Brad turned toward you and pulled you into a tight hug, lifting you up a little. You laughed, holding onto him just as tight. The applause seemed never-ending, even as you all started walking off stage.
Now backstage, there was a buzz in the air. Not the same as a couple hours ago, which had been anxiety and nerves. This was triumph, pride, and adrenaline.
“Alright everyone,” Ms. Lightbody approached the center of the room once everyone had reconvened. “We’ve finally finished. And it was a hit.”
That caused everyone to start whooping and shouting. She rolled her eyes but even she couldn’t hide the smile creeping onto her face.
She held up a hand, “Okay. I just wanted to let you all know, how proud I am of each and every single one of you. You all worked so hard to make this happen and you worked through every problem that came your way.” She gave you a pointed look and the cheers started up again.
You hid your face in your hands as your friends pulled you into side hugs. “And I just wanted to say,” she continued. “We’ve all had a long night. Leave the cleaning for another day, everyone, go celebrate!”
She waved her hands and everyone started cheering again, moving as one to the back door to meet up with their friends and family.
As soon as you entered the hall you were bombarded by thanks and praises from your friends. You thanked them and threw their compliments right back at them, saying that this whole thing was a group effort.
You were flying from one group to another, everyone shouting your name. You were currently with Noah, Jack, and Lacy, telling them how good a job they did on the sets when you heard your name being shouted out again.
You turned around and saw MJ. Grinning, you excused yourself from the group and charged at her, pulling her into a hug without giving her any time to protest. To your surprise, she pulled you in just as tight.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” She mumbled into your hair.
“Oh my god,” you started, “MJ it was insane. It all happened so fast, that Lexi got sick, so she didn’t show up! And I knew all the lines and stuff so I had to step in cause no one thought of casting an understudy and-,”
You pulled back from the hug but kept your hands on her shoulders. “Oh my god, what did you think? Was it bad? You can tell me -,”
“No! No way, holy shit Y/N, it was so good!”
“Seriously?” you smiled at her. “What happened to the whole ‘school productions are so cringe’ mindset?”
“That was before her best friend was starring in one,” said Ned. You hadn’t realized he was standing beside you two, with Peter beside him.
“Don’t worry, Y/N,” He continued. “The show was amazing. And you popping up on stage was a fun surprise.”
You grinned at him. “Thank you, Ned! I’m so happy you all made it.” You looked at Peter and offered him a small smile. He’d really helped you out today, and the fact that he’d made it to the actual show, and stuck it out till the end, meant a lot as well.
“Oh of course we made it!” Ned cut it, putting your attention back on him. “Petey here wouldn’t shut up about it. Went out and bought you flowers and everything.”
Your mouth fell open at his words, and for the first time, you noticed the large bouquet in Peter’s arms. You saw Peter nudge his friend hard and Ned winced before his face lit up in understanding. He grabbed MJ by the hand (which she quickly yanked back from him) and said, “Ok, well we’re gonna go talk to someone else. Congrats Y/N!” But you didn’t have a chance to reply before he was scurrying off, MJ with him.
You stared at them for a bit before turning all your attention to Peter. He cleared his throat before saying, “Hey.”
“Hi.”
“These are for you,” he said, holding out the bouquet of fresh flowers. You accepted them from him and brought them up to your nose, taking in a whiff of the sweet scent.
“My favorite.” You whispered, fingers lightly tracing the petals.
He nodded. “Yeah, um, I saw them and I thought you might like them. Especially with everything, you know,” he gestured vaguely, “thought you’d like some flowers.”
Your heart warmed at the thought that he saw your favorite flowers while he was out and thought of you. “Thank you, really. But you didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to.” He admitted.
You looked around, unable to meet his eyes. You focused on the floor, “Well thanks Parker, that was really sweet of you.”
He sighed, “Y/N please, I don’t want to-,”
But he got cut off by someone shouting your name. “Y/N!” Brad approaches you two. He looked Peter up and down before turning to you, “Hey, so the whole cast and stuff is going out for ice cream in our costumes, thought it’d be fun. Wanna join?”
Your face lit up, “Of course!”
He grinned right back at you. “Great. Come on, they’re leaving now.
You turned towards Peter, whose expression looked harder than before. “Listen, thank you so much for your help today, it means a lot. And thank you for the flowers.”
He nodded but his attention was on Brad. He finally turned toward you, his expression notably softening, “Like I said before, anything for you Y/N/N.”
You stayed there for a bit, caught in his eyes, unable to look away. It isn’t until Brad places a hand on your shoulder that you realize you’ve been staring.
“Ready to go?” He asked. You nodded and turned to leave. As you were walking out the door, you turned to look over your shoulder. You weren’t even sure why, but as you did, you caught Peter already staring. You sent him a little wave and he returned it before turning and walking away himself, shoving his hands in his pockets.
You walked to the ice cream shop with the others, still holding your flowers. And after everything that happened today, all you could think about was Peter.
You had a blast. The ice cream shop was packed with a bunch of high school kids in old-timesy clothing, laughing and joking with each other.
Brad had paid for your ice cream, despite your multiple refusals, claiming that they all owed you for stepping in and saving their asses.
“Consider it a thank you for that great kiss earlier.” He winked before walking off.
That had gotten you to shut up.
You all sat at tables surrounding each other, even pushing some together. You ate your ice cream in peace, joining the conversation every now and then to make a joke.
Someone had gotten Lexi on the phone and you all said hello. She congratulated you and you thanked her, letting her know you thought it should’ve been her on that stage instead. She made some joke about ‘if you wanted the whole front row to be covered in vomit, then I totally should’ve been there, you’re right.’ And you all laughed.
You had noticed Jack and Lacy moved to their own spot across the store. They were laughing together with Jack’s arm around her cocooning them from the world. It seemed they had finally gotten together and you couldn’t be more happy for them.
For some reason, the only thing on your mind was Spider-Man. It was silly but all you could think about was finding a way to make things right with him. It sucked that you had no way to reach him, but you’d decided to wait on the roof tonight, hoping he’d see you while swinging and stop by. Even if he left right after you apologized, you wouldn’t mind. You just wanted to see him.
You realized how late it was getting, and that it was usually now when you met up with him. So you'd asked Martha, (her mom helped with costumes, but she worked on the props) for a ride back since she had a car and lived in an apartment building near yours.
She quickly agreed, claiming she was ready to go too, but she had to walk back to the school to grab her car.
So you’d waited, but you couldn’t fight off your anxiety. Your leg kept bouncing up and down. You stayed like that for a while before Brad put a hand on your knee, stopping the action.
“You alright,” he asked, some sort of half-smile on his face. You looked at him then and thought, I can see why people like you Brad. He was kind, he was funny, he was fairly handsome, pretty popular too. And yet all you could think about was heading back home and waiting for someone you didn’t even really know.
You nodded, “Yeah, I’m just waiting for Martha to pull up.”
“I could walk you home if you wanted.” He offered.
You smiled but shook your head, “No, but thank you, I’m kind of in a rush.”
“Everything alright?”
“Everything’s fine.” You assured him. “Just…tired.”
“Yeah,” he nodded at you. “I get that. But hey.”
You looked up at him expectantly.
“Before you go there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
Your eyes shot open. “Oh?” You said, and it felt oddly reminiscent of that moment the two of you shared in the hall.
“Yeah. Would you wanna go out with me sometime?”
“Like a date?” You blurted out. Like an idiot, you thought. You knew it was coming and yet you’re acting like he just told you he was Taylor Swift.
He smiled at you and nodded, “Yeah, like a date.”
Oh Martha, where are you?
You were silent for a few seconds before you cleared your throat. There was no crawling away this time, no Peter running to interrupt. You had to face this.
“I really like you Brad but…I can’t out with you.”
His expression fell a little, but he didn’t look surprised. “It’s Parker, isn’t it?”
You were taken aback. “Huh?”
He nodded his head towards and flowers lying in your lap, “Parker. I saw you two today. When he was helping before the show, that was all for you. He sat front row before he even knew you were going to be on that stage.”
You blew out a breath and ran a hand through your hair, which you’d taken out of its updo. “I don’t know.” You told him honestly. “I don’t know and that’s the problem. Things are still really weird between me and him, and going out with you? That wouldn’t be fair to me or you.” And the other person you couldn’t wait to see.
He nodded again, understanding coating his features. “I get that, but hey,” he smiled at you, “we’re still friends right?”
You grinned wide, relief flowing through you. The last thing you’d wanted to do was hurt his feelings and you were so glad he was taking this so well.
“Of course we are,” you replied honestly. Right then, your phone started ringing and you stood up to answer. Martha was outside waiting for you.
You walked back to your table, saying your goodbyes to everyone. You were pulled into hugs and thanked a few more times. You really wanted to take your time but you couldn’t stop the part of you that wanted to rush home and sprint onto the rooftop.
As soon as you were out the door you were sprinting to the car. You spent the whole ride anxiously fiddling with the bouquet of flowers from Peter.
You barely thanked her as you stepped out the door, closing it and waving goodbye as she pulled away.
You rushed straight up the stairs, wasting no minute. You felt hopeful, for the first time in a long time. You were going to make sure he knew you were sorry, make sure the two of you remained friends.
You stepped onto the roof, the wind blowing around you. Only then did you realize you were still in your costume. That didn’t matter though, you didn’t want to risk going down to change. And you were sure that if he did stop by tonight, he would love to hear about the crazy day you had.
You stepped close to the ledge, setting the bouquet down by your feet and you leaned over slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of the hero you’d come to think of as a friend.
A weird sense of familiarity washed over you, and you realized, this was exactly what you’d been doing a few hours ago. Standing on that makeshift balcony, waiting for your lover to come so you could make amends. Except, this wasn’t a fake balcony, and there was no way you and Spider-Man were lovers, barely friends at best. But still, there was something familiar there.
You waited. And waited. Just when you were starting to give up hope, you heard the small thwip you’d come to realize signaled his arrival. Soon after, you heard a pair of feet land in the middle of your rooftop.
You turned toward him, heart racing. For a moment neither of you said anything, just stared at each other, but you quickly decided you needed to get your words out before he left again like last night.
“I am so sorry. I’ve been so worried since last night that I upset you and I can't stand it, please would you-,”
Oh….oh.
Before you could even inhale to get your next word out, he was walking towards you, ripping his mask off, gripping your face, and pulling you into a deep kiss.
You didn’t even get to see him but that was the last thought on your mind. He was kissing you. And it was perfect. Your hands flew up to his hair, and you tugged slightly, making him kiss you even harder.
His mouth moved against yours like he’d been waiting his whole life to do this, and couldn’t believe he finally got the chance. You met him just as eagerly, for each kiss, trying to memorize the feeling of his lips on yours.
Something about this, all of it, felt so, so familiar. But every time you made to pull away, his lips chased yours and you couldn’t help but give in.
Soon enough you both pulled away to catch your breaths, eyes still shut as you leaned into each other, foreheads touching. You enjoyed the moment for a bit, and then you opened your eyes, about to make a joke about how that was an interesting way to accept an apology.
You gasped out loud, hands flying up to cover your mouth as you stumbled backward.
“Oh my god,” you whispered. “Oh my god.”
“Y/N/N, I’m so sorry,” he says. Peter says. Because it’s Peter standing in front of you right now and he didn’t seem to be the least bit taken aback by your reaction.
You’re unsure what to say to him, your head is reeling and you can't breathe.
“Oh my god,” you repeated, your voice barely a breath.
“Y/N, please, please let me explain.” He stepped toward you and reached out a hand.
You shook your head so quick, that you thought you might give yourself whiplash. “No. This,” you pointed at him, “is so sick, Peter.” Your voice broke at the end and you tried to fight back the tears that were already burning in your eyes.
His eyes widened. “Y/N I promise you, it’s not what you think-,”
“What do you think I think Peter?” You asked him, voice full of exasperation. “Because I think, you lied to me. I think, you played me for a fool. I think, you’re sick and twisted for sitting here with me every night and playing friends with me. Asking me about my day, pretending to care. Fuck, asking me about my ex. Continuously,
“I think,” you continued, tears flowing freely now, voice shaky and weak, but still conveying your anger. “I think you got me to trust you, again. Just so you could stomp all over every bit of me, again!”
“It’s not like that Y/N, it was never like that. Please, believe me, sweetheart. Please don’t cry.” He begged, looking like it was taking every muscle in his body to hold himself back from pulling you in again.
“Why should I believe you?” You snapped at him. It was hard for him to believe that, just a minute ago, he was holding you again. Kissing you like nothing else in the world mattered. He’d give anything to have that back.
“Because every moment we had out here was real! Every concern, every question. I was never playing pretend, I just, ugh!” He groaned out loud, dropping his head in his hands, and tugging his hair tightly before looking up at you again. “I fucked up Y/N,” his voice is watery, and because you can’t undo the time you spent together, as Peter and as Spider-Man, you can’t help the strong impulses you feel to hold him tight. But you stand your ground and wait for him to continue.
“First when I didn’t tell you about this,” he said gesturing towards his suit. “Which has its own reasons. And then again, when I bailed on you all those times, which was because of this. And again when I let you walk away from me that night at school. I should’ve fought for you, I should’ve shown up more, I should’ve shown up every time and never given you any reason to not trust me,
“But I didn’t. And you called things off… And at that moment, all I could think was you, walking down the streets of New York, crying, and distracted.” He shuddered and your heart fell. You’d never thought of it like that. “You don’t know the things I’ve seen,” he said, looking up at you, eyes red and face flushed.
“So I thought I’d just walk you home, make sure you got there safely, and then I’d start staying away. But it was you,” his voice broke. “And you were so upset and all I could think was that it’s my fault and I hated myself. So when you invited me to hang out on the roof with you, I thought I’d show up, try to cheer you up a little,
“And you made me tea, that night,” he laughed softly. “I don’t think you even realized, but you made it the way I always drink my tea. My favorite.” Your mouth fell open a little when you realized you had, in fact, made his favorite tea that night. He’d told you during a late-night conversation before you two had started dating, and ever since, it was the only tea you drank.
“So I had to stay,” he continued. “And then we started talking, and you were joking, and telling me things I had no idea about. And I never wanted to leave,” he admitted softly.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked him, pointing at his mask on the floor, voice raspy from the tears still clogged in your throat. “When we were still together? I’ll bet that's why you were always bailing, isn’t it?”
He looked down and nodded. “It is. Or was. I wanted to,” he looked up at you suddenly, his face so sincere, that you could feel the desperation in his next words. “God Y/N, you have no idea how many times I almost did. But I stopped myself every time because the risks of you knowing were too high.”
“Risks?” You asked confused.
He nodded, “I’ve met a lot of people. Bad people. And if the one catches wind of this, of you? If someone ever tried something, I’d never forgive myself.” He looked away shaking his head.
“So no one knows?”
He shook his head again. “Only Ned and May.”
“Ned knows?” You knew they were best friends, but really?
“It's not like that, no.” He waved his hand. “He found out by accident. He was waiting in my room one day, and I crawled in through the window ‘cause I didn’t see him.”
You huff out a breath from your nose. That was so Peter. You’d bet money that May found out in some similar situation.
“Wait,” you started, “if we went through all of that, and you still didn’t tell me, why tell me now?”
“Because I can’t stand to be away from you any longer.” His voice sounded broken, like he’d been dying to get that off his chest.
He stepped closer again, and you didn’t push him away this time, much to his surprise. He doesn’t stop until he’s standing right in front of you.
“I’ll protect you from anything or anyone that may come your way. I’d do anything for you sweetheart,” he repeated his words from earlier and you felt something grow in your chest. One of his hands came up to cup your cheek, the other, moving to your waist. Your hands rose up to lay on his chest.
“God, you have no idea how much it was killing me to sit beside you all those nights and not be able to touch you.” He whispered, staring straight into your eyes.
You met his gaze. You believed him, every word. You’d known Peter for years, you knew when he was lying to you, which was part of why you broke up with him. You knew he was lying to you, or holding something back from you, you just didn’t know what. But you still had a few more questions.
“Last night. Why did you run off? Why didn’t you just tell me then?”
“Because I was a coward,” he admitted, expression sad. “I was enjoying it all too much, I wasn’t ready to ruin it yet. I still couldn’t believe I found a way to still talk to you, and you were asking to see me,” he blew out a breath.
Yeah, obviously that didn’t initially start well.
You nodded. “And when you kept asking me about you. About my ex and how I felt about him, why?” That part still had you confused
He looked up, closing his eyes, “I won’t lie to you sweetheart, that was just me being a dumbass. That was complete selfishness and…,”
He trailed off. “And what?” You questioned him. There was some unspoken thing you two were doing right now, that you could ask anything, and he’d answered honestly. It was the least he could do.
“And jealously,” he finished quietly, looking down at the ground.
“Jealousy?” You repeated, still confused. “But who would you be jealous of…oh.”
And it was then that you realized how you’d talked about Brad to Spider-Man (before you knew who he was of course), and how, right after, when he’d asked about Peter, you’d said something about just trying to forget the whole thing. You had to hold back a laugh when you remembered all that. Poor guy must’ve been going insane.
He nodded. “You kept talking about that Brad guy and talking about trying to get over me. And I hated that you seemed to be getting over me so quick. Like I said, completely selfish. I'm sorry.”
“No,” you shook your head, “that makes sense actually. But seriously Peter..” You trailed off, shaking your head again.
Worry crept onto his features, “I know I messed up Y/N/N, big time, but I’m willing to do anything-,”
“You really thought I was into Brad?” You asked, wrinkling your nose up at him.
He let out a breath of relief, before laughing a little. God, he was so happy you were joking with him.
He leaned down and pressed his forehead against yours, “I’m sorry sweetheart.”
“You’re forgiven,” you told him, the sincerity in your tone impossible to miss, and he knew you were talking about more than the crazy jealousy.
He looked down into your eyes, his gaze so intense you almost went to look away. “I’m the luckiest man alive,” he whispered, his voice so low, you wondered if he even meant to say it out loud.
His eyes flickered down to your lips, and you took that as your cue. You leaned in, closing the gap between you. He kissed you back instantly. It was softer than the one earlier, but way more meaningful. Every press of his lips on yours felt like repairing something. Mending whatever it was that had broken between the two of you.
You pulled away first because you knew he wouldn’t, but he didn’t let you get far. He started planting kisses all over your face.
"Have I told you," Kiss. "How beautiful," Kiss. "I think you look tonight? And every night."
You laughed, face heating up at his compliments. "Thank you, Petey."
"I love it when you call me that." He said, grinning like a lovesick idiot. He leaned in and kissed your cheek one more time before he pulled away again.
"I didn't like it." He said, a frown on his face.
"Didn't like what babe?" You asked, tilting your head up at him while your fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck.
He let out a sigh, "The breakup. Being broken up. Not talking to you, as me, I mean. Not as Spider-Man. And I sure as hell didn't like seeing some other guy make out with my girl in front of everyone."
You laughed and you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach when he called you his girl. "Well don't worry," you told him, moving your hands to cup his face. "We're not doing that again, not if we can help it."
You leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the lips, before pulling away, which made him whine.
He moved his hands to your shoulder as he buried his face in your neck, breathing in your scent.
“You drive me crazy, sweetheart.” He said, voice muffled by your skin.
You giggled, “You drive me crazier, Peter Parker.”
‘crazier’ taglist: @coralineyouareinterribledanger @666yourmomdotcom
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Fatal Desires - Lee Seokmin
18+ / mdi
summary: 5 Years of Marriage should mean something, right? Well your Husband did not seem to think so.
content: Husband Seokmin x reader, cheating, marriage, fights, mentions of sex, heartbreak
wc: 2.9k
a/n: angst is my second name, I love drama and I love heartbreak..
As her petite Hand held on to the Sink, she took a deep breath. She felt slightly dizzy; her mind had been clouded for the last few days.
She took the pot off the Stove and put the Stew she freshly made into a container.
The steaming stew made the entire house smell like it.
She grabbed the Blue Lunch bag she always packed for him, that he forgot this morning and scribbled down some cute Lines on to the Sanrio-themed paper.
She was a sucker for cute Stationary.
When she got down to their shared Garage, she spotted her Black Audi, the one he gifted her one year ago, as a Birthday gift.
She buckled up and drove to the Company Building, She drove towards the security gates, and the Man smiled "Good Afternoon Mrs., are you here to see the Husband?" he smiled sheepishly, and a giggle escaped her glossy pink lips "He forgot his food so I made some fresh Lunch"
"What a Lucky man he is," the elder man grinned. "Enjoy!" he said, opening the gate, and she drove inside, parking in her own spot. Above the parking lot, there was a sign with the letters "reserved for Mrs. Lee".
After their Marriage it was the first thing he did, he wanted to show the world he was taken, and he was proud of it.
She remembered exactly how proudly he presented it to her with a red little silk curtain pulling it away with the biggest grin.
Walking along the marble floor was her routine now; she did know the company like the back of her hand. She greeted everyone while walking towards the elevator, and she then drove up to his floor. When the doors opened, she was greeted by the gray and Black Interior, the signature style of her Husband, Everything needed to be clean.
He was a little organize freak.
"Y/N! What brings you here?" She turned around and was faced by none other than Kim Mingyu, the best friend of her husband. "Hey Gyu, he forgot his food, so I cooked some Stew and decided to bring it over," she smiled softly. "He just finished a meeting, so you can go in."She nodded and thanked him.
When her small fist was knocking, his deep voice let her inside, her shoes clicked against the marble floor, and he looked up from the papers in front of him "Y/N" he smiled slightly.
He looked breathtaking, he was dressed in some beige slacks and a white blue striped shirt.
"You forgot your food and I thought maybe we can spend your time together" She walked behind the table, and he looked up at her, with a smile she pecked his lips "you look good today" she whispered, does not remember the last time they were intimate.
"I really need to finish those papers, so I can't join you!" he said while writing down some terms.
She sighed and nodded "I made Kimchi Jjigae your favorite with some rice, so please enjoy, I will wait at home for you" she tried her best not to sound hurt.
"I have several meetings, so please don't stay up," he said, and she nodded, leaving his office.
"Already leaving?" Mingyu asked, and she nodded "He is busy" She tried to smile, and he sighed "You know how he is".
"Yes work always comes first," she whispered, then left.
The next few weeks, nothing changed; she always did the tasks at home while working, she held meetings and combined everything to be the best wife she could be; after all, that's what she promised at the altar.
She was sitting behind her computer, editing the details on the new Design for the Lotte Tower renovation flyer. It was her biggest achievement by now; she worked so hard for this one project, and in one week there would be a big Party celebrating the new building.
The ribbon would be cut by her opening the doors for the new building.
All of her friends would be there, her Husband watching her with proud eyes, and she would feel the happiness through her entire body.
She got ready to announce the event to Seokmin, and she put on some Lingerie covered with a Satin robe.
His favorite Color, red covered her body and she felt Sexy with her hair in curls. And then she heard the door open, She heard how Seokmin was taking off his shoes and then walked inside the bedroom. He opened the Wardrobe and grabbed some Pajama pants. When he took off his coat she walked outside, twirling her hair around her finger, and his eyes found hers "I thought you went out," he chuckled slightly "No, I wanted to surprise you" She took some steps towards him, saying, "I missed you and I missed spending time with you" Her slender fingers traced the buttons of his black dress shirt.
"I missed feeling you" she whispered while slowly unbuttoning his shirt, but he grabbed her hand "I am tired" he took her hand off and her heart felt like breaking apart "I can make you feel awake" she glided her hand along his pants and grabbed the outline off him but when he sighed she felt that nothing was happening.
She let go off him and took a step back "Then, uh, I will take a shower and let you alone" she whispered and walked inside the bathroom, she took the makeup off and brushed her teeth when he walked inside "next week Friday, I have an event, will you accompany me?" she asked him while watching him through the mirror "Yes, of course, I'll be there" he kissed her head, and they went to bed.
When the night of her Event came, she got styled and then got inside the Red dress she bought, she looked fabulous, and she felt beautiful. She could not wait to meet her friends and family there.
When she arrived at the location, she walked around, looked at everything and smiled at how good it turned out.
"Y/N you look breathtaking" Chan said with the biggest grin and a blush crept on her face "Thank you" she then saw all of her friends, Chan, Jihoon, his girlfriend Luna, Wonwoo with his girlfriend Daisy and Joshua with Minghao.
Mingyu came closer with some Champagne in his hand, and she looked around to see if Seokmin was here.. Where was her Husband?
"We are all so proud of you," Joshua exclaimed and hugged her thight "Thank you all so much," she bowed, and then It was her part where she needed to go up to cut the robe.
She quickly typed a message to her Husband.
'Y/N: Where are you?'
And she quickly gathered all her strength and went up, she took a hold of the mic and smiled "thank you all for coming, today is a beautiful evening with the best people, I can't believe the day has finally come ever since I started working with Lotte Tower my Goal as a young woman was to design the best Business area for Lotte tower, but now after all those years they trusted me and my team to design the entire renovation for the new Lotte Tower, I remember years ago when I signed my contract that I looked at my Boyfriend telling him that one day I'll stand exactly here, and he kissed my forehead telling me that he is sure that this will come true.
4 Years later I am standing here happily married, having an amazing time, and being just thankful for everything" I bowed when everyone clapped.
Her friends in the first row cheered the loudest, and she grinned slightly, looking around with no trace of her Husband, She buried those feelings deep down inside her.
This was her night, she needed to enjoy this.
When she cut the robe up she forgot about this and tried to enjoy her night.
And when she came to her small friend group, they all noticed her slumped shoulders, and she tried to put on the best fake smile she could "I'll go home" she announced when nearly everyone was gone.
"I'll bring you" Chan said, and She nodded "Thank you," but on their way, she decided she would go to his office first.
"Should I come inside with you?" he asked her, and she sighed "No, I'll be good. Thank you, thank you Chan" she smiled and went inside.
She did not smile anymore; her heart felt heavy and she just wanted to see why Seokmin had not come.
Her hands were holding her heels,her naked feet were sore from all the walking; she went upstairs with the elevator and was not surprised to see the lights on in his office, her heart was beating faster, and she felt devastated.
He really chose work over her once again.
Her feet carried her towards the door, and she could hear her faint voices. She halted in her steps and her breath hitched.
"Seok that tickles" a feminine voice stated with his deep voice followed "then I would need you to stay still" he groaned, and Y/N knew this groan, her heart felt like breaking in to a thousand pieces.
She then saw the shadows, she heard the smacking sounds, and she heard her heart, the one he once carried in his hands get thrown on to the ground by him.
"fuck you feel so good" he moaned, followed by her high-pitched moans.
Her feet carried her downstairs, she ran down the stairs, could not wait for the elevator, she felt like suffocating.
She did not remember how she got home , everything was a blur from the moment she walked outside, and she just remembers falling asleep inside the bedroom.
The next morning she felt her head pounding from all the crying, she woke up by his alarm, and she heard him stirring, she squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to cry.
She felt like she was just a corpse, completely empty inside.
She thought the love between them was one of a kind, a rare gem, but it turned out it was all just a joke.
When he went into the bathroom she quickly got up putting on some dress pants and her blouse, she ran downstairs grabbing a cereal bar and putting on her loafers "you're already going?" his deep morning voice made her tense and she grabbed her bag "yes uhm I need to be in the office today" she grabbed the car keys and Seokmin hugged her from behind "and you don't tell me goodbye anymore?" he turned her around, just the look at him made her heart hurt so bad "I thought you would shower longer" she whispered and he smiled slightly "have a fun day at work" he kissed her temple and she hurried outside.
And when she was at work she realized that she promised him forever, in good times and bad times she knew she still loved him so much, their time could not be over and she will not give up, maybe this was a misunderstanding, maybe she was to drunk maybe it was a mistake.
But the next two months Seokmin blocked everything, he was only in the office and so Y/N decided it was time for her to visit him.
She knew it was real and that this needs to end.
She went to the office but to her surprise her parking spot was not free, there was a Pink Lamborgini standing there and she sighed, she tried to calm her heart while she was riding the elevator upstairs.
Mingyu looked at her "Y/N, did he forget his lunch again today?" he joked, but she shook her head "It's a little more serious this time" she had a sad smile on her face, and he sighed "he's inside the office, Lee Jia is with him signing her Model Contract"
"I think for this he needs to send her out" and without hesitation and without a knock she walked inside, Lee Jia was standing next to him, she was basically pushing her cleavage into his face while reading the contract and Seokmin looked up his eyes widened slightly.
"Y/N" he whispered, Jia took a step back the diamond necklace around her neck catching your eyes, remembering the scenario two days ago.
As she cleaned the bedroom she grabbed his dirty clothes and put them in the washing machine, she grabbed the basket full of folded laundry and put everything inside when she found a little velvet box she smiled opening it she was greeted by this beautiful diamond necklace.
And maybe after all, Seokmin still would remember their 5th Anniversary.
Reality hit her harder than she would've thought "what brings you here love?" he smiled, and she gulped "can we maybe talk alone?" he furrowed his eyebrows "no it's alright I know her, she can stay" and now you knew, she is the new woman in his life.
"Did you park on my spot?" I turned towards her and she gulped and nodded "But kook.. I mean, Seokmin told me it was okay because you never come here" and in those five years, he never cared.. She thought "It's my spot, there is a sign that says that this is mine" she muttered "Y/N enough, I did not thought you would come here today. So why are you here"
She blinked the tears away "I just wanted to remember you that our friends will be at our place tonight" you simply decided that and he nodded "okay I'll try to come home earlier" he mumbled.
"You will be home early Seokmin, I don't ask for much so please be home tonight, this will decide everything" and with that she rushed out.
She rushed past Mingyu and just hurried home. She laid in her bed crying, praying for the time to turn back to the moment where he changed, to the moment where she fucked up where she did go wrong.
It must be her fault, right?
And when Chan and Jihoon arrived, she felt the mood lighten a bit. She talked to them, and then the others arrived, even Mingyu arrived, telling her that Seokmin was once again in a meeting. She just smiled.
She was no longer strong enough; she let her guards down.
The liquor was burning her throat but she could not care less, and when two hours later only Chan and Mingyu were left the door opened and Seokmin strolled inside. He took his Suit Jacket off and she directly spotted the fresh red patches on his neck.
"I'm sorry the meeting was longer than expected" he said while sitting down and she just scoffed "of course" Seokmin furrowed his eyebrows and shrugged it off "so is there something to celebrate tonight?" Chan coughed his eyes widened.
He could not believe that his best friend was asking this right now.
He knew that you were suffering, but he would never think Seokmin was the reason for it.
"Nope, nothing" she spat dryly and got up. Chan winced "Y/N, Please" he whispered but she shook her head and looked at Mingyu "did you know?" she asked while balling her hand to fists "what?" confused Gyu looked around.
"That he fucks Lee Jia" she stated dryly, and Seokmins eyes widened. He felt his heart ready to burst at any moment.
"No, he would never, Y/N he is married?" Mingyu said shocked and she laughed "Yes, you would think that. I thought that too. I thought maybe I meant enough to him that he would tell me the mistakes, that he loves and cares about me" the tears were now rolling down her cheek
"Do you know how long I know?" she asked before continuing, "since my Lotte Tower event, where he never went to, where I wanted my Husband, where I talked about him like he was my biggest supporter because I thought he was my biggest supporter, but in reality he fucked another woman in that time, and when I looked for him, I had to witness him fucking her," her voice was full of venom.
She wiped some tears away but they continued streaming down her face "and whenever I tried to approach him he pushed me away; he was busy he was tired, and I always knew It's because he did not want me anymore" she hiccuped. "I always spotted those dumb Hickeys combined with her perfume"
Seokmin still could not find his words.
"And when I continued being a good wife, I thought maybe he would realize how much I love him. I found a necklace in his underwear drawer and thought, Wow, maybe he still remembers our anniversary, but guess who was wearing the necklace when I came to his office and guess who just fucking asked why we are celebrating" she was now furious.
"I FUCKING LOVED YOU WITH EVERY FIBER IN MY BODY" she sobbed, and Seokmin felt his heartbreak. "It's alright that you don't love me anymore; it's alright that you stood me up, but it's not okay to cheat; you could've told me you want to break up, and I know it's hard, but you broke me" she whispered, pulling out the papers she had for months now.
"I want a divorce" and with that, she walked to the door "Chan can you please take me away" she whispered and Seokmin felt the wet tears rolling down his cheek.
Within seconds, his marriage fell down the drain.
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so, I read the whole "House Tour (not the house we wanted, but the house we have)", and I loved it so much, and I asked a question after reading it because of the ending, so what was everyone's reaction of toys eating pizza for the first time?
Your First Ever Pizza Night
Synopsis: Angel has to teach the toys how to eat pizza. It's confusing.
---
James' eyes were so wide you thought they would pop out of his head. You nervously smiled at him, feeling the eyes of the toys staring at you from inside the house. "Thank you for your work", you tell him, money in hand. "I, uhm, am sorry for how Catnap tried to scare you away".
"I-it's okay!", he shakes his head. "No big deal, don't worry, Angel".
You eye the group from behind. Catnap tilts his head, still not very trusting of the stranger. You figured that would be the tenth human he talks to in more than a decade. "Take care, okay?"
"You too", he takes the money, counts, and then sighs. You also sigh, giving him a pat in the back. "Man, you really scared everyone out there. I thought you had... You know".
"I've been clean for years. I wouldn't do that", you reassure him. "And now I have those guys to look out for".
Your friend chuckles. "Feeling the weight of parenting on your shoulders already?"
"Urgh, don't even let me start talking about it", you smile. "Okay, I'll head inside now. I don't think half of them know what pizza is".
You tell James your goodbyes, watching him leave. You feel guilty for having him deliver so many pizzas to you, but it is what it is, the kids (your kids) must be hungry. You prepare yourself mentally before entering the house, closing the front door:
"So! Who's hungry?"
Dogday adjusts himself in the sofa as most of the mini toys yell "me!", rushing towards you, including the mini huggy that was using him as an oversized pillow. You laugh as they swarm you, and you pick up Driver and Bunzo on your arms. The little green huggy stims her hands, while Bunzo climbs on your shoulders: "Show us what that pizza thing is! Show us!"
"Bunzo, you're going to fall if you keep like this", Long Legs warns him, stretching all the way from the other corner of the living room to shoosh the crowd away. One catbee blows a raspberry at her, annoyed. "Get away from them! They're going to fall if you guys keep on like this!", the same catbee from before repeats the gesture, but now a candy cat and a bron imitate her gesture. "Angel!"
"You heard her", your warn the little ones. "C'mon, guys".
They coo away, and you watch Catnap proudly looking after the mini critters, most of whom didn't swarm you. He really is their big brother, uh...?
"Okay, guys. Are you ready?"
Driver stims again as you enter the kitchen, piles of pizza boxes distributed in the counters. Delight is counting them, muttering numbers under her breath, and stops when she notices you: "We have 26 boxes for 80 of us! They may last up to a week if we are careful".
"... What?", you chuckle. "Delight, no. The Prototype gave me enough money to feed everyone for years to come, we don't need to ration our food. You can eat as much as you want to".
You grab the first box you find. Bunzo tries to climb your head to take a look, and you laugh. "Eat as much as we want to? I'm going to explode, then!"
You bring the box to the living room, knowing well the kids are waiting for you to take the first slice. You show the box to Dogday, currently incapable of leaving the sofa thanks to his surgery stitches still being fresh. He deserves to see the first slice, you figured.
"You seeing this, pup?"
"With my two eyes!", Dogday nods. Catnap has approached you, and, with a smile, you open the box: "Behold: Pizza!"
"OOOO!", Bunzo yells. Huggy, who was following you around like a shadow, claps his hands, surprised. Kissy is still holding Poppy, who copies Huggy's clapping.
"It's been so long since I saw a real pizza!", the doll smiles. "And it smells even better!"
"This one is pepperoni pizza. There's 8 slices in every box - you guys should all take one. Eat as much as you want to!"
You take a piece, offering it to Bunzo, who grabs from your hand and shoves it on his mouth. You try your best not to accidentally drop him or Driver thanks to your chukling as he tries to deal with the cheese hanging out from his mouth. "Is elishious! Wha is disss?"
"You're going to get food on Angel's hair", Long Legs politely lifts Bunzo up from your head, using her arm to hold him. "And that's called... Cheese".
"Elishious!", he jumps.
"Please try not to choke!", you offer the next slice to Dogday. The big puppy's eyes go wide, and he shakes his head.
"Give it to the others, Angel..."
"There's enough for everyone, dummy, now eat" you take another slice, giving it to Long Legs, who stared at Bunzo in horror as he was still trying to deal with the cheese. "Theeere you go".
The pink spider stares at her slice with a strange look. She eyes Bunzo, then Dogday, who was holding his own as if it were a delicate piece of ceramic, then opens her mouth, then closes it.
"You eat pizza like this, Long Legs", you grab a slice of your own, biting it and using your teeth and fingers to free yourself from the cheese. Still chewing, you add: "Use your hands to deal with the cheese, everyone, you guys don't want to put too much into your mouths or you'll end up choking on your own food!"
You offered the next slice to Kissy, who stared at it with sparkling eyes before taking her first bite. Huggy bites his in one go, and Driver takes the last one before Delight appears, giving you a new box, still of pepperoni.
"Thank you", you give her a nod. "C'mon, take a slice! You too, Driver".
The mini wuggy jumps from your shoulder, and Delight gives a slice to her first before taking one herself. She blinks many time. "Ooh... This is very... Interesting...?"
She gives it another bite.
"Lots of different tastes... And it's so warm and soft!"
You sigh, noticing Dogday had given his slice to a catbee. "Pizzas aren't exactly soft, but I guess they look like it, considering what you guys had to eat..."
You offer a slice to Catnap.
The feline lowers his head. "Savior, please feed the others first...", he asks. "They're hungrier than me".
"You and Dogday have a lot to learn, uh?", you shake your head. "Okay, kiddos, you heard your boss. There!", you put the box in the ground, watching as the critters stare at you, hesitant. "One slice for each, don't fight each other for more, we have a lot of boxes. Speaking of which, can someone grab the other box... Oh!"
Delight chuckles, one box in each hand. She's polite in the way she gives it to everyone, despite all her isolation. Huggy, on the other hand, is less careful thanks to his lack of proper coordination, but he manages to feed all the mini huggies with some help from Kissy.
Dogday only eats after he's sure every single other toy is doing so. By that point, you're sitting on the sofa, Poppy using a plate, knife and fork to each her own slice of pizza. Catnap merely stares.
"Oh... Ooooh!", the orange dog mutters. His tail is wagging. "A-Angel, this is incredible!"
"Nah, it's just pizza. You're going to have fancier food as soon as I get more groceries".
"Fancier food? Are... Are you sure?"
"The doctors are going to kill me if I don't give you all the nutritients", Dogday stares. "Not literally! It's just a joke!"
"Ah", he sighs, forcing himself to laugh. "Even fancier food, uh...?"
"More!", Bunzo yells, jumping up and down. "I ate two slices already, but I crave more! I think I'll explode!"
"Please don't explode", you mutter. "It hurts".
The bunny mischievously laughs, running towards the kitchen. You eye Catnap, who eyes you back with a head tilt.
"Aren't you going to eat?"
"I... Ate yesterday, savior".
You hear a growl coming from his stomach. "Your 'savior' wants you to eat. Go on, you gotta get those calories. No one should starve".
For the first time since the confrontation agains the Prototype, Catnap lowers his ears and fidgets, nervously looking away from you. Around him, the small critters all eat their own slices, some trying to comfort him with a headbonk or by cuddling next to him.
"Catnap", Dogday calls. "You need to set up a good example for... Them", he points to the critters. "They aren't going to eat more if they see you aren't doing so".
"You know well how our rules work, Dogday. They eat first. Me, second".
"And now you are outside PlayCo. and playing by my own rules, kitty", you bite another slice of pizza, before offering the box to Catnap. "Go on, even Dogday and Long Legs are doing so".
"..."
Catnap's stomach once again growls. Using his hand, he takes a single slice out of the remaining three, eating it in one bite. You patiently wait for his reaction.
His eyes become brighter. His tail curls and moves left and right, and his ears go up as well. He stares at you, asking for permission, and you nod. He eats his second one almost immediately, now using both of his hands so he can take more bites and savor the taste more.
You chuckle, grabbing another box next to you and opening it for him and Dogday to share. The two bigger critters have the same sparkle in their eyes, and both go to their next slice almost at the same time.
This... Feels nice. All of this "family" stuff. Seeing them light up and talk about how this ordinary pizza is the best thing in the entire world, how they are eating so much when only at their second slice. It feels nice. They really are acting like normal kids would.
Maybe we can indeed become the parent they need...?
#poppy playtime#poppy worldwide#save everyone au#ask tag#catnap#dogday#mommy long legs#the angel#miss delight#huggy wuggy#kissy missy#ppt poppy#poppy#garca writing
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Constant Faith and the Life it Brings
Part 2 of Constant Faith | Requested Here!
Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!worship pastor!reader
Summary: After your church is robbed, Tim learns how you got into faith and helps you learn to share your story.
Warnings: mentions of armed robbery and past arrests, basically a testimony based on the request, fluff and comfort
Word Count: 1.8k+ words
A/N: I loved writing this!! The worship pastor!r dynamic is right up my alley and I definitely sprinkled little parts of my own testimony and time in church in here.😊
Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List
The days following the robbery are strange, but you believe in promises and know that God and Tim keep them. As Tim helps the robbery unit work the case, you meet with different church members to pray together.
When Sunday rolls around, and the sanctuary is still treated as an active crime scene, your pastor welcomes everyone into his home for service and fellowship. You lead worship as usual, but hearing all the voices mixing and praising God together, trusting that He has the situation in His hand and would use it for His purpose, is a unique and beautiful experience. One you wouldn’t have had without a walk through the valley of the shadow, you think as you finish a song.
As you go home Sunday afternoon, you think about everything that has led you to this exact moment in your life and your faith. There are parts of your testimony you don’t like sharing with just anyone, not because you doubt what God has done for you or want to keep His message to yourself, but because it brings up memories that remind you of a painful time. Living through an armed robbery and experiencing how much your church family loves and cares for one another, however, gives you strength and encouragement that your story could help others who are in similar circumstances. That inherent need to help others who are hurting, to be there for them, is precisely what led you to become a therapist when you’re not singing at church.
Tuesday morning, your pastor sends out a video message with excellent news. He tells you and the rest of the church members that the offering collected on Sunday not only met their usual numbers but replenished the money that had been stolen. You’re unsure if God encouraged everyone to give a bit more and support His house or if one generous donor knew what had happened. Regardless, the church isn’t in fiscal danger, which is great but not the best part.
“The L.A.P.D. contacted me this morning to inform me that the thieves were apprehended and offered a full confession,” he adds. “In addition, they have recovered everything stolen from the safe and it will be returned to us in due time. Now if that isn’t proof that our God still works miracles, I don’t know what is!”
“I think that was the best run-through we’ve had in weeks!” Jerry applauds. “Not that they’re usually bad, you know.”
“We do,” you promise with a smile. “But, I agree, that was great! We’re back in the sanctuary Sunday, so let’s have a great service and welcome everyone back into church.”
You watch the worship team gather their things and leave, but you look up at the empty cross on the wall. Your Bible is lying with your things, and you squat to pick it up as Jerry exits the audio booth.
“You alright?” he asks softly.
“Yeah, I’m good. I think I’m just…”
“I understand. You’ve got keys, so take your time. We’re all here if you need us.”
You nod your thanks and wait until he leaves to sit in the front pew. Holding your Bible in your lap, you close your eyes and begin praying. You thank God for everything, including Tim, and you pray for him, too. He’s a big part of your life, even if he doesn’t know how much he’s done for you.
“Can I help you, Officer?” Jerry asks as he exits the church. “Or are you here on personal business?”
Tim is waiting beside his truck, dressed in his patrol uniform. He looks up when Jerry exits, and Jerry hides a smile at Tim’s disappointed look. Most of your church family knows about Tim, and Jerry knows who the officer before him is and what – or who – he’s there for.
“Just waiting for her,” Tim says.
“She’s in the sanctuary; may be a few minutes. You’re welcome to go in if you’d like.”
Tim looks over Jerry’s shoulder to the door and nods. He thanks Jerry and watches him walk away. You’re more at home here than anyone else, yet Tim doesn’t feel as if he’s trespassing when he walks through the front door and navigates to the sanctuary entrance.
The pew dips beside you, and you look up from your Bible quickly and see Tim looking at the stage. He doesn’t speak as he joins you, but his hand is stretched toward you.
“Sorry,” you murmur.
Your finger holds your place in the New Testament, the fitting story of Jesus and the “den of thieves.” Tim shakes his head and tells you to take your time. He sits back and closes his eyes. Maybe Tim is praying or giving you the privacy he thinks you need. Either way, you appreciate him and are glad he’s beside you.
“I- thank you for working so hard and catching them,” you begin. “On Sunday, we received enough money from tithing to make up for what was stolen. Between that and the arrest, I should be, I don’t know, jumping for joy or something.”
“But?” Tim presses kindly.
“It reminded me of my past,” you whisper. “And I’ve just been thinking that I can do more- that I should do more.”
“Do more how?”
You look at Tim, and his eyes are already on you. His focus on the here and now is appreciated, but he can’t understand what you mean until you tell him about your past. More than Tim, you can’t do what the Lord is calling you to do without learning to share painful memories.
“I had a really bad childhood; my upbringing, I guess you could say, was rough, Tim. Growing up, I never felt like I belonged or was loved, even in my own house, around people who were supposed to love me and protect me. So, I learned how to look out for myself and provide for myself, but I didn’t always do it right.”
Your eyes drop from Tim’s to look at your Bible instead. Tim keeps his eyes on your face as you speak, and his hand inches closer to your side.
“When those men came in here and demanded to know where the money was… part of why I stayed so calm is because I’ve been that person before. I was behind the gun once and it landed me in juvie at 17. I didn’t know why they charged me as a minor. I didn’t understand anything until I found this.”
You point to your Bible and pause. Tim doesn’t press, though you’re sure he has questions about your previous arrest. Because you went to juvie and were a minor with no prior record, everything was expunged, and most people would never know it happened.
“Someone introduced me to the Bible,” you continue. “I was carrying around so many sins, and they were a burden that never lightened. Initially, I thought it was desperation or boredom, anything other than a need for a Savior. I started reading and it felt like every sentence was written to me specifically. The thief on the cross beside Jesus, the gift of the Holy Spirit, and forgiveness of sins while healing physical infirmities… everything Jesus said and did felt like an invitation. I started praying and I felt that burden start lifting. After I confessed every sin, even the ones no one else knew about, I gave my life to Christ. At that moment, I started praying that God could use me and my past to help others who are hurting.”
You take a deep breath and apologize again. Tim finally moves his hand into yours, and your eyes drift to his.
“That’s what led you to become a therapist? LA’s best grief counselor,” Tim guesses.
You smile and chuckle as you nod.
“You’re good at your job, I’ve always known that. But the fact that you let a situation like that lead you to help others is exceptional. Not many doctors pray for their patients; I’d charge extra for that.”
You push against Tim’s shoulder as your smile grows. “If they’d told me that reading the Bible would lead to having two jobs without facing the price of sin, I wouldn’t have believed them. The worship pastor idea came in later. The day before I was released I read Acts 16. Paul and Silas sing praises in prison, and then there’s an earthquake and the doors are opened. No one leaves, but the jailer sees the doors and prepares to kill himself. Paul and Silas stop him and lead him to repent and be baptized. So, after nights of praying and praising in a cell, I knew I needed to keep doing it.”
Tim has been quiet since the moment he walked in. Though you don’t regret sharing your testimony with him, you begin to worry that he won’t want anything to do with you now. Learning that your girlfriend went to juvie for armed robbery isn’t easy for most people to move on from.
“I understand if you want some time,” you murmur.
Tim’s eyes are still straight ahead. You realize he’s looking at the pulpit in the center of the stage. He squeezes your hand gently, and you take a deep breath. You won't blame him for needing space, but that doesn't mean it won't hurt.
“I had a rough childhood, too. My dad was angry, and he got violent because of that. I actually thought for a while that he killed someone," Tim says.
His voice is rough, but you know why and you're here for him. You lay your other hand over Tim’s and turn to face him. His eyes are still forward, and you understand it can be easier to talk about stuff like this without looking at your audience.
“He was having an affair with a woman who was being abused. She killed her husband and my dad covered for her. That- that moment when he confessed and he seemed like a good man… it went against everything I had ever seen. He was a monster, and everything that I am is despite what my dad did.”
Tim turns toward you, and you see tears gathering in his eyes. It hurts to relive past pains, but your entire life is founded upon a belief that you don’t have to do it alone.
“I don’t want time or space. Your past made you the woman I love, and the strength and love you found during your darkest night… your story is special.”
“I could do more,” you whisper. “I don’t tell enough people.”
“You told me. That’s a start, right?”
You nod and lean your head against Tim’s shoulder. Your Bible folds closed with your movement, and you remember that your unshakeable faith will get you through the hard days to come, and telling your story may allow someone else to see the strength Christ offers.
“You’re amazing,” you say against Tim’s shirt. “Everything that you are, all that you do, shows that your past doesn’t define you.”
Tim turns to kiss your head and wraps an arm around your back.
“Did you come to give me a ride and a hug?” you ask.
“Yes. A ride home and more than one hug.”
#hanna writes✯#tim bradford x reader#tim bradford x fem!reader#tim bradford x y/n#tim bradford x you#tim bradford fic#tim bradford imagine#tim bradford the rookie#tim bradford#the rookie abc#fem!reader#requests#christianity
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QUARTER-FINALS MATCH 3
Claude propaganda:
"To say Claude has trust issues is an understatement—you have to spend half the game earning his. (Claude isn't even his real name!) Once you have it, though, he's absolutely ride or die for you until the stars go out. He is so full of heart and ambition: He wants both sides of his heritage to get along, he wants to open borders and eliminate xenophobia and promote equality between commonfolk, and deep down, I think he craves a partner to stand with him at that new dawn, or an equal who sees his vision for the future and will fight for it just as hard. Nobody believed in him when he was a kid, but if you put your faith in him, he'll return it tenfold. Some people don't like that he's calculating, or has to leave the player character at the end of the game to go back to his homeland, but both are necessary elements for his goals to change things. He will always come back, and everyone who bets against him and his love for his companions is wrong with a big fat W. #KhalidForMostDatablePrez"
"Claude is a fun little onion of facades. He calls himself the embodiment of distrust, he acts like he's carefree and without worries, an unscrupulous schemer--and so many in universe buy into that hook line and sinker. He's used to others viewing him with suspicion and uses it as armor to obscure his not-so-dark truth: that he cares immensely, that he values minimizing the loss of life, and that above all he has so much hope that people will fundamentally choose to do better given the choice.
His front guards a center that his conflict filled world would be happy to tear apart. As the child of people from two nations in constant conflict--one of which is explicitly isolationist and dehumanizes those outside its church's reach--he hasn't really had a place where he can be without his facade. As a child he thought he could run, but when confronted with the fact that this hatred existed no matter where he ran, he chose to instead try to create a more just and kind world.
His inability to let others in beyond his facade at first may lead to a sense of distance, but isn't it then all the more satisfying when you're allowed in? All he wants is a little trust, a little faith, and--like what he wants to give everyone--a chance to be better.
And like that you got a charming young lad with a fun personality that your grandma would be thrilled to have stay forever."
Milo propaganda:
“they were in the last contest sure but i feel like they could get farther. like they're literally a nonbinary grim reaper that's also an influencer and sure sometimes the influencer stuff can get kinda overwhelming i feel like it's very clear that they care about you and want to be around you. you guys go on a reaping date. their eyes and nail colour change based on their mood too and i think it's a really cute detail!! also SLIGHT SPOILERS but they even reference rocky horror in their special ending. they are perfect to me and i love them and i believe they deserve a second chance <3”
"Vote for Milo because they deserve it
They're literally so attractive
- They are a social media influencer
- They are obsessed with an adorable little kitty and will do everything in their power to make this cat the most beloved creature in existence
- They love makeovers and helping their friends rebrand (this includes working with Damien and the PC to help Jerry the Murderer rebrand so that they really has a brand identity)
- They are a grim reaper and even help the PC plan the PC's own funeral (special ending) and they give a great speech and it's super sweet
- They will sometimes take the PC on reaping jobs with them and shenanigans ensues
So in summation, vote for Milo because, as I repeat, they deserve it"
#claude von riegan#fire emblem#fire emblem: three houses#FE:3H#milo belladonna#Monster Prom#Monster Camp#Quarter-Finals#MDDC 2
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Anti-romantic || JJk | Ch. 15
Pairings: Boxer!Jungkook x fem!reader || Enemies to lovers, neighbors
Genre: smut, angst, fluff, curse, illegal boxing, violence
Warnings: fuckboy!Jungkook x reader, smut, dirty talk, curse, mention of tarot and fate
Summary: Jungkook had always been carefree when it came to love. He always believed he was worth sharing himself with everyone, and thought it was selfish of him to ever think of keeping himself exclusive to just one person.
And maybe that was exactly what got him into the big problem he was in.
A curse that kept him away from love didn't seem an issue for him. The fact that his ex-girlfriend thought he'd be affected by the idea of the girls he slept with running away from him after sex was ridiculous. She actually did him a favor, and took a burden away from him.
At least that was what he thought at first.
He had never found himself thinking of the possibility of repeating with neither of his hook ups, because they disappeared before he was able to even think about it. But when he makes the mistake of sleeping with the sexy neighbor that lives in front of him, he finds himself hoping to get the chance for a second round every time their paths cross.
Y/n hated him the second he set foot inside the building by the way he started making her life a miserable mess for no reason. Sleeping with him was a big mistake she wasn't thinking of repeating. At least not until he came up with the excuse that she rejected him for a curse. Not only she thought he was annoying, but she was also convinced he was crazy.
There was no way she could take him seriously.
Aprox. time of reading: 14 minutes
Previous || Next
MASTERLIST
The doorbell rang hysterically, as Jungkook kept clicking on it until the door opened in front of him. Mrs. Anderson opened the door, sighing out of exhaustion when she recognised the young boy who hopefully waited by her door, lighting up a smile as soon as he saw her.
—You again? I thought I got rid of you —she sighed.
It had been almost a month since the last time he showed up there, which actually surprised her, considering he tended to visit her at least twice a month to get his bi-weekly checks and celebrations as soon as the cards remained the same.
Except for the last time. His reaction was one she would've expected. Someone that celebrated being cursed from love couldn't be happy about that same curse coming to an end. But there he was, stepping inside her house, walking his way to the spot he knew so well, and taking a seat before she could even offer him one.
—Your fate won't change by sitting a second earlier, boy —she called him out, walking past him to take the seat in front of him—. Thought you said you'd come back two weeks ago.
It was what they agreed on, but his mind had been so busy that he didn't even remember. And then he thought about how he had been so into bickering with Y/n, or daydreaming about her being wrapped around him that he completely forgot about the last reading he got, and how it talked about the exact thing he was going through.
—Don't cross your legs and hands, focus your energy on what you want the cards to tell you about. And take it easy. Not because you're faster, the reading will change its meaning.
The reading started as usual.
She shuffled the cards, looking into his eyes from time to time. The first few times it made him uncomfortable, because he didn't quite understand why she did it. But it only took him three sessions to ask her, and be told that his eyes were a bridge to his soul and his experiences for her. It was her way to connect with him on a deeper level, to make the most out of each reading.
She planted the cards slowly, one by one, in front of him. Ignoring the way he seemed eager to hear the interpretation she got out of them. A few hums, eyebrows slightly frowned, and the twist of lips made him even nervous about what meaning they could have.
—The curse is still there —she let him know—. It's still strong, and it's keeping you from reaching your full potential. But there's something curious here —she pointed to one of the cards, getting his attention—. It's the first time the Justice card shows up whenever asked about this topic.
—And what does it mean?
—It seems like the curse is like a karmic punishment —she frowned—. I don't know what you did to that girl, but she wants you to suffer. She wants your heart to hurt as if it was ripped out of your body. You have a lot of unsolved issues, and this little problem might get you to want to solve all of them.
—Karmic punishment?
That definitely sounded like something awful, he could tell.
—Where's the fun part where I don't fall in love with anyone at all, and I just live my life?
—I told you the first time you showed up here that the curse wasn't something you should enjoy —she warned him—. I told you to be prepared. And now I can tell you'll definitely need to be really strong mentally to get through the karma that will come with it. Hmm.
The way her eyebrows raised, and her fingers fell on the cards to him hopefully looking back at her.
—Hmm? Hmm? What hmm?
—The Empress again. There's someone really powerful messing with your head, isn't it?
Jungkook omitted the scoff that was about to come out of his lips. Y/n was an average journalist, obsessed with illegal fights because they were her only trip out of lame reports. He wouldn't really consider her a powerful person. At least not in the strict meaning of the word.
It could be that she didn't mean Y/n. Could be that woman he was waiting for didn't cross paths with him yet.
—She isn't in my life yet, right?
—Oh no, she is —she quickly nodded—. I talked in present tense. She is messing with your head. Messing, right now —she explained slowly.
—But maybe she's messing because it's making me anxious to think about her in my life —he still tried to turn her words upside down.
—No, she is in your life. Now. Present. She's been face to face with you, she knows you and you know her —she explained, exhausted—. She is a real person, walking calmly in your life, and making you delusional about her not showing up. She is here —she lifted the card—, and there —she pointed with her other hand at his head.
His heart started beating fast as he tried to find an explanation as to how all of that happened. And then it clicked.
—You said I'd meet her through work.
—No, I said the connection will be made through some work you do —she explained, starting to get annoyed at his denial—. And it shows up here again: whatever pushes you to change, it'll be through some work you'll do together.
Out of all those people, of course it had to be Y/n. He met her when he was going through some big changes, and what's a bigger change than moving out somewhere else?
—And what if I don't do that work?
—Do you really think you'll be able to escape what the universe has planned for you? Okay, try it —she sighed— It has never worked for anyone. And it certainly won't work for you. But yeah, try it —she left the card she was holding back on the table—. Look, son, I think you are a good person. You might seem annoying and full of yourself, but I sense that kindness and good aura you let out as you walk into a room. It doesn't change the fact that you've done some things that have hurt people, and you might need to make up for those mistakes. You can run from them, you can slow down the process, but it'll get to you. If it's not in a few days, it'll be in a few years. It's a work we all need to do.
—It's not a choice to depart from this world without solving them?
—No —she seriously answered—. You can't —she looked at him, staring into his soul, before she continued speaking—. You do want to fall in love. I can tell. Your eyes speak louder than your words. You kept celebrating that curse, but your eyes showed disappointment every time I told you there were no changes. And today you looked hopeful, as if I said something you wanted to hear —her hooded eyes squinted—. You're so scared of love. And you think all those fleeting relationships will cover up that need in your heart. I told you once, and I'll tell you again: running away will never be the solution. And you might've started to realize recently.
—I've realized that I'm really happy with the way it is now.
—Is it? Why didn't you come when you first told me you'd come? —she inquired, picking up all the cards that were spread— Whoever that woman is, she kept you so busy that you even forgot about the curse. Am I wrong? That lady is indeed as powerful as the cards tell —she smirked to herself.
—She's not.
—Then why did you come here if it wasn't to confirm she was the one you've been running from?
Jungkook remained silent at that question. Despite showing off how serious he was about that, he was trying to hide as much as possible all his intentions to avoid Y/n and that dumb article until either of them moved out of their respective places, so they wouldn't have to see each other's faces again.
Her fingers tangled on Kyle's, completely ignoring the fact that she was doing exactly what she didn't want to do. At the same time she convinced herself it wasn't going to be anything as serious, that it'd only be just fun, her other side kept screaming how it really seemed that he had changed the past few months. He seemed more stable and genuine than the last time he reached for her.
—Did I say how beautiful you look today? —his fingers pinched her chin.
—Just a few times since you picked me up earlier —she giggled, resting her back against the wall next to the entrance to her apartment.
Ever since he showed up in her workplace, he kept praising how good she looked, and how she looked even better than she did when they last parted ways. Her cheeks kept blushing without any control, but she wasn't quite sure if it was because she just felt shy getting praise from anyone else, or if it was the fact that her ex boyfriend was actually telling her.
—Why don't we go up to your place, and I keep telling you how beautiful you look with even less clothes on? —he suggested, moving his finger down her neck.
—Isn't it a bit too early?
Was it?
Not even a few weeks back she was considering taking a complete stranger to her home, and things would've easily escalated if it hadn't been for the asshole of her neighbor. She didn't think about it twice, nor cared about how early it was, when she jumped to hook up with her neighbor the two times it happened either.
So what was exactly stopping her then?
She wasn't feeling that animalistic need, she wasn't feeling that feral attraction that would've pushed her to get upstairs as soon as they got there. She was attracted to Kyle, but not in the same way she was before they broke up. His kisses just didn't feel the same, as much as she would've loved to feel those butterflies make a mess in her stomach, there just wasn't anything. She felt nothing but a wet tongue sliding in between her lips, and a mouth sucking on her every time it locked on hers.
—Well, I've known you for six years now, what do you consider a bit too early? —he tilted his head, getting closer to her.
Before she could answer, his body pushed suddenly against her, having her gasping for air at the sudden hit. She was so close to calling him out for that, until she saw him looking back, quickly finding the owner of that push with a cynical look in his eyes and a fake smile.
—Oh, sorry —he mumbled—. I didn't see you.
Y/n just rolled her eyes, not surprised in the slightest at the attitude of her neighbor. Although she was confused at how she didn't even hear him coming, and how there wasn't a motorbike in sight.
—Are you blind? —Y/n called him out— Also, don't you have enough pavement, that you have to drag your body on the walls? There's literally six feet of space.
—It's not my problem you're here making out with your new toy, instead of going to your place. Are you fifteen? —he huffed.
—My new toy? You...
—Is this the guy that you told me about? —Kyle asked on the down low.
She remembered mentioning him, but she didn't think she went into so many details about him for her ex boyfriend to tell clearly who she was talking about by just a simple exchange of words. Did she really talk that much about him without noticing?
He suddenly moved, uncovering her body to walk towards Jungkook with a barely puffed chest and a brave aura that almost had her escaping from there. While he forced a personality that wasn't his, her neighbor just threw a smirk and a scoff, turning completely to that new man.
—It's reached my ears how you've been bothering Y/n in the past few weeks —Kyle started— and, by your attitude, I can tell you aren't planning to change in the slightest.
Y/n wanted to hide somewhere at that moment. The second hand embarrassment she was getting from that sentence alone almost made her squirm where she was standing. She didn't know what he was pretending, but it for sure wasn't working.
—And you think she needs you to talk for her? —Jungkook chuckled— She's more than capable of letting me know, and she's actually done that already. So quit that big boy act that's only embarrassing you. I know you might need to pull out your dick to show off that yours is bigger, but I won't fall for that —he mumbled.
Y/n was surprised, but at the same time she wasn't. Jungkook always fell for their small bickering, but for some reason he also gave her the image of someone who wouldn't stand low to prove himself.
And what had happened that night was one of the biggest turn offs she could've lived. It didn't cost Kyle a thing to just keep it quiet. He had no business doing what he did.
Their bickering was one thing, but having someone else trying to take a part in it wasn't her thing.
Kyle scoffed nervously, faking calmness as he exaggeratedly relaxed his pose and poked his hands inside the pockets of his pants.
—Shall we go up to your place, then? —he turned to Y/n.
Jungkook thought faster than her, taking advantage of the few seconds it took her to find an answer to his question. Those words came out before he could think about them deeper.
—Actually, you'll have to leave it for another day —Y/n looked at him confused—. Shouldn't we work on that article? Or are you planning to take forever to write it?
—We can work on it tomorrow —she tried to suggest.
—I want to work on it now. I'm busy tomorrow —Y/n squinted her eyes, knowing too well he was going to be free as he was on his usual agenda—. But if you don't want to, we won't. You're the one interested, anyway. Just know that if you reject me, I'll take as...
—Okay, okay —she stopped him, before he could get even more annoying—. Do you mind if we leave it for another day? —she turned to Kyle.
—If there's no other choice, it isn't like it's going to make a difference whether I mind or not —he answered.
He kept looking to his side, finding a victorious smirk on Jungkook's face, which he quickly erased as he leaned over to kiss Y/n on the lips to walk away from her building.
—Why do you look like you've smelled shit? —Y/n inquired, walking past him.
—Because I nearly did —he followed her inside—. I thought you had good taste, but now I'm seeing that I was the only good choice you've made. No wonder you don't hook up with anyone else.
—Says the person who has had a lot of hookups —she replied back with irony—, because I've barely seen any movement in your apartment.
—Ah, so you're keeping an eye on who I bring home or not?
His playful answer was a desperate attempt to distract himself from the thought that was crossing his mind.
As the elevator reached the ground floor, Y/n stepped first, pushing Jungkook back with a hand on his chest to keep her from getting there with her.
—I'll see you up there.
She devilishly smiled at him, before the doors closed in front of him. She was so annoying sometimes, yet so funny and cute. And that exact thought had Jungkook shaking his head, pushing away whatever second meaning that could be coming with it, as he got himself ready to walk up three floors to get to his apartment.
When he got there, Y/n was already waiting for him, arms closed on her chest while her head rested on the metallic exterior wall of the elevator.
—Look how pretty you look waiting there just for me —the cockiness in his tone almost went completely unrecognizable through the gasps and shaky breaths.
—Are you sure you're a trainer? It seems like you're going to puke your lungs out.
—It's because these stairs are too steep.
—Or because you smoke more than you should —she shrugged.
—Do you always need to have the last word? —he finally asked, standing in front of her.
—No, but it's fun to mess with you —she smiled at him—. Also, it's pretty satisfying to see how your expression changes so fast with every comment.
—Seriously? —his eyebrows raised, stepping closer to her— How does it change?
—Well, it changes from asshole to confused asshole —she nodded.
—I'm not an asshole —he spat back, resting his shoulder on that same metallic wall.
—The frozen pepperoni pizzas in my freezer say the opposite.
—Did you freeze them? —his words stuttered by the small giggle as he spoke.
—What was I supposed to do? You ordered food for a whole family. And I wasn't going to throw away something I paid —she stated, as if it were obvious.
—You should've invited me to eat them with you.
—And spending more time than I have to with you?
And there it was. She could feel the electricity making its way from the tip of her toes to the top of her head with just one quick look into his eyes.
Jungkook was mesmerized by the way her eyes shined with such mischievousness, he only wanted to sink in them. He didn't know where all that attraction was coming from, and when he started feeling smaller than her although he was almost towering over her body. He leaned closer, finally getting a taste of her after so long. Even if it had been only a few days, he could feel the thrill running through his veins when he felt the taste of her saliva on the tip of his tongue. Every time he thought he only needed a rub of her lips, he felt needy of more.
—Jungkook —he heard her voice.
Blinking back to reality, he found himself in the same pose he was in before he started daydreaming about kissing her, while she just stared at him with a confused look. She saw the exact moment he went far away from where he was, seeing his eyes showing nothing while they scanned her face slowly, moving up from her eyes to her lips.
—That's right —he quickly got himself out of that trance—. I won't make you spend more time than you have to with me.
She was confused as she saw him stepping back, walking to his door.
—Where are you going? I thought you wanted to work on the article now.
—I wanted to, but I'm so tired after you made me get the stairs —he clicked his tongue—. Let's leave it for another day.
As he closed the door to his apartment right before she could say a word, he finally realized what was so satisfying about closing the door dramatically, and why Y/n always did it to him whenever she had the chance.
Taglist: @jk97bam @ttanniett
#armpirate#jungkook smut#jk smut#jungkooksmut#army#boxer#bts#btsfanfic#btsff#btsjungkook#btssmut#btsxreader#fanfic#ff#jeongguk#jeonjungkook#jk#jkxreader#jungkook#jungkookxreader#kook#kookie#kpop#reader#readerinsert#anti-romantic#smut#wattpad
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Am I Playing All Right Now?
Kento Nanami x You
Explicit Smut 18+ (🚫Minors DNI🚫)
Kento Nanami has been your respectful, loving boyfriend for two months now. All you’ve done so far is kiss, and you want more with him. He refuses for your sake, warning of his roughness. So, you take matters into your own hands and convince him to put in ‘just the tip’.
Relevant tags: just the tip challenge, dom! Kento Nanami, clothed sex, couch sex, clit slapping, brief use of leather belt, hard and rough sex, doggy-style, hair pulling, manhandling, big dick-Nanami <3, dirty talk, degrading, unprotected sex, creampie, I don't use "y/n" for immersion
Music recommended while reading: Dollhouse (The Weekend, Lily Rose Depp, …baby one more time (The Marias), Like U (Rosenfeld)
A/N: this is filthy and I love it, my first Nanami piece <3 enjoy!! (Read on Ao3 if you prefer!)
Read below cut:
The night had gone great. You two had a fantastic dinner at a fine restaurant, and now you’re at his house, getting hot and heavy on the couch. You’re sat in his lap, straddling his waist, the hem of your dress riding up your thighs as the fabric gives to accommodate him between your legs. Your hands are running over the muscles of his chest, only the thin layer of his dress shirt between your touch and his skin. His palms are on your waist, pulling you closer, pressing you so firmly against him that you can feel the blunt heat of his hard cock beneath the confines of his slacks.
You can feel adrenaline pumping through your veins–tonight is the night. Every time you two get close to having sex, he pulls away, saying he isn’t ready, but right now it feels so different, so electric–
He hums, punctuating the kiss and pulling back, giving you room to breathe. Your stomach sinks, no, this isn’t what you want, you want–
“We should stop here for the night,” He murmurs, and you look into his eyes, a frown tugging your lips down at their corners.
“But you’re hard,” You protest, “Kento, please…we’ve waited long enough, and you clearly want this…”
His jaw tightens as he takes a breath. “I do…but we can’t.”
Now you’re just confused. “...can’t?”
He sighs heavily, giving you no explanation, but nodding. “Now, let’s m–”
“No, hold on,” You interrupt him, “Kento, tell me why? I-is it me? Do you…not want…?”
“It’s definitely not you,” He dispels quickly, “It’s me, okay?”
“What about you?” You press, searching his eyes. “Is it…are you…worried about your performance?”
That gets him to widen his eyes a fraction in surprise. “N-no, it’s not that. It’s…alright, look, it’s…it’s that I don’t want to hurt you.”
It isn’t enough of an answer for you. “And…what do you mean by that?”
“You…you know me to be this nice, gentlemanly man, don’t you?” He asks, a sort of resigned weight to his eyes. “Which, I am. But not when it comes to sex.”
The wheels turn in your head. “So…you’re…?”
“I’m rough,” He finally states, “And it’s…it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. I’m afraid to hurt you or scare you away. Of course I wouldn’t do anything you don’t want, but…you just seem so sweet and–”
“Woah,” You stop him in the middle of his sentence. “Do you think you’re the only one with duality? You don’t think I can be different in bed? Do you think I’m some porcelain doll you’ll break if you’re not careful?”
He considers this for a moment before sighing. “You don’t understand.”
“So then make me understand,” You challenge him, running your hands up his chest. “Please, Kento. I can take it.”
“No,” He denies, “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
Seeing his hesitance, you decide to switch tactics. You reach for his hands on your waist, taking his wrists and raising his palms up to the front of your dress. You guide them to rest over your breasts, allowing him to touch them through the thin cloth. You’d decided not to wear a bra for the night since the article had thin straps, and he immediately can feel that, a flash of desire flitting within his eyes.
Riding the wave of his interest, you tell him, “I want you bad, Kento.”
He inhales forcefully, allowing himself to knead the soft flesh beneath his hands. His thumbs graze over your hardening nipples, your teeth dragging over your bottom lip instinctively. To drive your point home, you grind down on him, the only thing on beneath your dress being the panties you’d hoped he’d see when you had put them on earlier in the day.
“You’re playing dangerous,” He warns, voice thin and strained.
“Maybe I want dangerous.”
He finally lets out a groan, surging forward and capturing your lips in another kiss. It’s more forceful this time, and all you can do is give complete control to him.
He flips your positions so smoothly, you hardly feel it; you just suddenly feel your back hit the cushion of his couch, a gasp pushed from your mouth. His hands make quick work sliding up your dress, fingers hooking underneath your waistband.
Kento speaks against your mouth lowly. “Lace?”
You swallow hard, nodding. “Yeah.”
“Expensive?”
The question catches you off guard. “Uh, no, not r–”
A swift, harsh tug and the sound of fabric ripping later, he holds the scrap lace in his hand, now mangled and unusable. He just tore them clean off.
“Holy shit,” You breathe, now suddenly aware of how bare you are beneath your dress. He must become aware of that fact too, because without a moment to spare, he’s pushing the article up to your waist, exposing you to his eyes. A rosy flush spreads over the bridge of your nose as he looks at your naked lower half unabashedly, a type of hunger you have never seen before nor known he was capable of in his eyes.
He tosses your ruined panties to the floor and fiddles with his belt, undoing the buckle. Your gaze follows his movements, watching his hands expertly tug the leather strap from its loops in his pants.
Then, he surprises you by holding the edge without the buckle and running it along your inner thigh. You shiver, observing him and wondering what his next move will be. He runs it all the way up, reaching the apex of your leg and placing it right over your mound. The cool leather feels unfamiliar there.
“Can I?”
Your attention is pulled to his voice, and for a moment you aren’t sure what he means. Then it dawns on you.
Oh.
No one’s ever done that to you. But…you aren’t opposed. You’re curious.
You nod.
“Words.”
Oh, damn.
“Yes, you can.”
“Good girl.”
You don’t have time to pay attention to the rush of hormones that praise gives you, because a harsh sting of pleasure suddenly hits your senses as he brings the end of the belt down, slapping your clit with it.
“Ah!” You jump slightly, shock, arousal, and fascination flooding you all at once.
“How was that?” He asks, watching you carefully. You take stock of yourself…and are intrigued to find that you liked it. As soon as you realize that, you understand that Kento is about to show you an entire new world previously unexplored to you.
Your eyes lock with his. “It was good.”
A mixture of relief and desire swarm his gaze. “You liked that?”
“Yeah.”
Without warning, he does it again, a little harder, and you cry out this time, unused to the strangely welcome sensation.
“Still good?”
“Yes.”
“Good girl.”
Your next breath is shaky. “More.”
He wastes no time in delivering exactly what you want. Over and over again, until your pearl is red and swollen and the folds beneath are glistening with need, belt shiny with a bit of it. He stops once you reach this state, making sure you see as he licks it off the belt. Your lips part, entranced, and he drops the accessory, instead moving to undo the front of his slacks. Your heart begins racing–but then he pauses, seeming to deflate slightly.
“I’m not gonna go all the way,” He states, “I don’t have condoms.”
“What?” Your voice is more than a little indignant. “But…how?”
“I wasn’t planning to do this tonight.”
He pulls his cock from its restriction in his briefs, pushing his waistbands down to the tops of his thighs, and the sight of the thick, red shaft as your mouth watering and your core pulsing around nothing.
You think he’s changed his mind as he lines it up, but then he just glides it against your folds, coating it in your essence and using it to rub against you, the feeling intense due to the sensitivity of your previously abused clit, but not what you crave.
“Kento,” You whimper, watching him rub himself off as he plays with you using his cock. “Please…”
“We’re not risking a pregnancy,” He maintains, “It’s not wise.”
You are beyond frustrated at this point, entrance weeping for attention, and you swear the desire is so bad you can feel your entire core sore and empty, vying to be filled and stretched.
What can you say that will get him to do it, even just a little bit?
Wait. Just a little bit.
“What about just the tip?”
His eyes narrow. “What?”
“Just the tip,” it comes out needier than you had intended, but god damn it you’re horny and all out of shame twice over.
Kento takes a good look at you, at himself and the position you’re in, sucking in a controlled breath for the umpth time that night.
Then, he lines up again, cockhead pressing against your entrance. “You’re going to regret asking for it.”
Is he challenging you? Whatever. What. Ever. You’ve reached a point where if you don’t get his cock soon your heart may actually give out.
“Let me decide that.”
His jaw sets tightly before finally, finally, he cants his hips forward, pushing the tip of his shaft inside of you.
As soon as it’s in, your head falls back on the couch, hips starting to roll without your permission. Your body wants him all on its own, and you’re no longer in command of it. He groans, pulling out and then pushing it back in, only the tip again, and you whimper in half bliss and half frustration.
You want more.
You understand the true meaning of temptation now. You’ve had the first bite of the proverbial apple, and it’s shocking how eager you are to devour the rest to its core.
Everytime he pushes in, never going past the smooth head of his cock, you moan, wordlessly begging for more. There’s a worry in his brow and a tenseness to his jaw that indicates just how much self-control he’s exercising, and as you look up at him, you realize he’s still pretty much fully clothed—his tie is pristine around his neck, shirt fully buttoned up, only his dick out and vulnerable to your eyes.
It’s unfair, and you seek to change that.
Your hand loops into his tie and yanks him down by it, taking him by surprise. He has to catch himself on his hands to avoid falling on you, a grunt escaping his lips as it causes him to slide further into you.
In a lowered hiss, he asks you, “what do you think you’re doing?”
The tone is so vindictive it has any words dying on your tongue. All it takes is a moment before he’s forcefully breathing out and lifting himself off of you, cock withdrawing from between your legs.
You open your mouth to protest, and that’s when your world spins.
You were face up, but now you’re on your hands and knees on the couch, having to brace yourself as he manhandles you silently. There’s not even a moment for you to acclimate to your new position before you feel his fingers loop through your hair as you’d done to his belt, and in one motion, he grabs your hip with his free hand and slams all the way into you, pulling your hair back hard to make you arch for him.
A loud cry splits through the air and it’s only when he starts repeatedly fucking hard and fast into you with the entirety of his monstrous size that you realize the sound was from you.
“See what happens when you push me?” His voice is hoarse and gritty, more like a growl than a whisper, a dull ache inside of you where he’s currently remolding the shape of your walls.
All you can do is make incoherent noises, and you aren’t sure whether they’re from pain, pleasure, or a mixture of both. His grip on your hair isn’t letting up and it hurts, but you’ve also never felt so completely out of control of yourself and somehow it just feels freeing to you.
“Huh?” He asks, and it’s then you realize you never replies to him verbally. You muster up the strength to speak.
“Y-yeah…” it sounds breathy and whiney, completely foreign in the contours of your voice.
“You happy now? Happy you got me to fuck you like the greedy whore you are?”
The harsh word ripples through you hotly and you moan, nodding as good as you can. “Yes…”
“Yes?” He asks, breathless, and he lets go of your hair in favor of wrapping his hand around your neck from behind. “You like being screwed like a whore?”
Apparently, you do. This is new information to you as well. You nod, gasping as he grabs your hand and presses it over your abdomen, where you can feel the flesh rising and falling in tandem with his thrusts.
“Feel that?” He asks, “that’s me inside of you.”
“Oh god,” You rasp, the knowledge of him so deep inside your body going right to your head. You can feel your mound weeping all over yours and his thighs, the wet slap tell-tale of just how much you’re enjoying this. Just the realization has you fluttering around him, a sensation that isn’t lost on him.
“Fuck,” he breathes, “You really do like this, huh?”
You nod. “Yes, yes, Kento…”
He groans, leaning forward and kissing the juncture of your neck and shoulder, brushing your hair out of the way.
“Such a good girl for me…my good little slut.”
You shudder, eyes squeezing shut as he speeds his movements up, the hand that was pressing yours to your stomach moving down to the slippery mess that is your swollen clit.
The big palm of his on your neck slides the thin straps of your dress down your shoulders and dips into the neckline of it, grasping your breast as if to claim ownership of it.
“Oh my god,” You breathe again, hips twitching at all of the stimulation, face hot, entrance thoroughly fucked open and sloppy, debauched by Kento like a destructive form of artwork.
His middle finger massages circles into your sensitive pearl as he continues the grueling pace of his hips, lips pressed to the back of your neck, and all at once it becomes too much.
It crashes into you like the unforgiving wave of the raging ocean, sweeping you into the depths of pleasure.
You cum so hard on his cock he physically has to stop moving, your hold on him so tight he’s locked inside of you. That’s the moment that he follows, spilling his pent up, heavy load into you with a hiss of pleasure.
Your arms and knees feel like jelly. Your walls are sore and throbbing, completely exhausted from his ravaging. But all you feel is feather-light. Finally, finally you did it. And it was better than your wildest imagination.
Lips place a tender kiss on your shoulder, his labored breaths slowing back to regulation. You feel his cheek rest upon the skin of your upper back. Both of his hands massaging along the sides of your hips.
“I’m sorry we waited so long. I just figured it would be too intense for you.”
You shake your head, turning it to look back at him as he straightens up and carefully pulls out.
“Don’t do that again.”
The corner of his lips turns up slightly. “Oh no, I won’t make that mistake twice. In fact…there’s something else I want to do now.”
“And what’s that?”
“I want to test your limits.”
__
A/N: here's my Nanami masterlist :) this is the first piece but lmk what else you want me to write for him! Hope you enjoyed.
#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk imagines#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento#jjk nanami#nanami x reader#nanami smut#jujutsu nanami#kento nanami#nanami fanart#nanami x you#nanami x y/n
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Kinktober Day 31 - Free Use
Poly 141 x Reader - 4.3k (on ao3)
summary: Glimpses into your life as a housewife and free use toy for the 141 post-retirement. (Reader POV, second person)
cw: soft sex, half-drunk sex, light somnophilia, anal sex
note: last kinktober of the month! sorry i got off by a day at the end here, but i hope you guys have enjoyed everything so far :) btw this is less "free use" and more "sex with the 141 while living in domestic bliss"
Your days are filled with sex. Sex with all of your boys, in every position you can think of, in every room of the house they’d bought for the five of you after retiring.
You all split the chores evenly these days. No one does more than they’re more comfortable with, and you’ve all found your stride, something to give you purpose, after the rigidity of the military.
Gaz has taken to bee-keeping. As odd as it sounds, he’s got the patience for it, and he’s quite protective of his bees, even has nearly an entire library of books he’s taught himself with. Price helps him out by selling the honey he harvests, keeping track of his profits and managing the household’s finances.
Ghost hunts, spends his days out finding game to bring home, tracking herds and predators around your property. Johnny does a little of everything - fixes things when they break, chops firewood every morning, helps Simon skin his prey, tries to help Gaz and his bees.
And you take care of the house. You make the meals, clean up after everyone, and find yourself perfectly happy to keep your men fed and warm.
Your other chore is to bend over whenever they want. Well, bend into any position whenever they want, Ghost and Soap tend to enjoy getting a bit more creative. It’s not really much of a chore, considering how eager you are to do it.
It’s a great deal for you. Johnny and Kyle are always eager to get you off, and neither Simon nor Price is stingy with the orgasms these days either. You live your life floating between domestic labor and orgasms - not a bad existence, by your metric. You get to live without a care in the world, four men to take care of and four men to take care of you. It’s like a dream come true.
———————————————————————
You hum to yourself as you dance around the kitchen, wearing nothing but a frilly apron as you wait for your pancakes to cook. The small radio on the dining room table plays music from a local radio station, something cheery to start your day. It’s hard not to smile, with sunshine pouring in from the windows and a batch of fresh eggs to scramble on the stove.
Your small moment of bliss is interrupted by a pair of hands on your hips and a large body bracketing yours.
There isn’t even a moment of fear, you instinctually lean back into the man behind you. A moment later, a rough beard brushes over your cheek.
“Pancakes this mornin’?” Price asks, big paws resting on the softness of your hips.
“Hmm,” you hum, tilting your head to claim his lips. He sways the two of you back and forth slowly, to the beat of the song, and lets you take your time with him. “Blueberries in yours,” you tell him when you come up for a breath of air.
One hand shifts to your ass, the other to your stomach, and you feel him smile. “Thank you, love. Got time for a quick round before they burn?”
You mimic his smile, let him bend you over slowly. “You’re just in time, Captain, I haven’t cracked the eggs yet.”
“Perfect,” he purrs, pressing himself to your backside. He tucks his plaid pajama pants down a little, rubbing his warm morning wood against you. You fold your arms beneath your head, let your eyes drift closed as his fingers make quick work of getting you ready.
Moments later, the heavy length of his cock fills you slowly. You moan, shifting your legs a little bit wider as he massages your waist.
“There you go,” he sighs, bottoming out and grinding himself slowly inside of you. “Tight as always, perfect girl.”
You giggle a little drowsily, wiggling your hips against his. “Always for you, John.”
He sighs contentedly, pulling out slowly. “Don’t I know it.”
He fucks you slowly, a steady pace that drags against all your most sensitive parts on every thrust. John’s thick, and the stretch isn’t quite comfortable with no prep. But you’re still a little loose from your time with Soap and Gaz last night, so it’s far from painful to take him.
He hunches over you as he gets closer and closer to the edge, elbows resting on either side of you and breath ghosting across your nape.
“Aw,” you hear Soap say,voice rough from sleep as he steps into the kitchen. “I wanted first go today.”
“Early bird gets the worm, Johnny,” Gaz teases, settling into a chair in the little breakfast nook Simon had built soon after moving in. “You’re the one who stayed up so late with her last night.”
“Wasn’t just me, jackass, you’re the one who-”
“Boys,” Price grunts, hips slamming against yours, leaving you squirming beneath him. “Will you shut the fuck up while I’m balls deep in our girl?”
You can’t help but snort beneath him, pushing yourself up enough to arch your back further, stick your ass further out for him. “Ye-yeah, boys.”
“Hush,” Price scolds, one hand shifting to your neck where he forces you flat to the counter again. “‘M almost there…”
He groans lowly as he buries himself deep inside of you, pumping slowly as you tighten up, trying to milk him. “Fuck, feels good…”
You smile against your arms as the pleasure that had been building inside of you starts to dull to a simmer, something warm in the root of you.
Price pulls out only moments later, two thick fingers tucking into you to keep any of his come from dripping out. “Keep me safe inside you, pretty thing, c’mon. Clench down.”
You take a deep breath and try your best to listen, straightening up and doing your best to keep yourself from dripping down your thighs.
He turns you around, leaning you back against the counter and cupping your cheeks in his hands, tugging your face up to give you a soft kiss. “Thank you,” he whispers into your mouth, just quiet enough for you to hear.
“Of course.” You reach up to grab his wrists, holding him close. “Never gonna say no to you, John.”
The two of you linger in the moment, sunlight warming your skin as you breathe into each other.
It’s Soap that interrupts you, an intentionally obnoxious clearing of his throat nearly making you jump. “Any chance at coffee sometime today, bonnie?”
You huff a laugh into Price’s mouth, pushing him away and shooting a half-playful look to Johnny. “Can’t give me a minute of peace, can you?”
He smirks, “Nope.”
John scoffs as he pulls away, moving you with him and giving you a quick tap to the ass to send you over to the counter with the coffee machine. “Someone’s gotta teach you some patience, MacTavish.”
“If Ghost still hasn’t gotten it into him, no one is,” Gaz laughs, shifting enough for Price to join him on the bench.
“Who says I haven’t?” Ghost says, stepping from the hallway. He’s already got a cigarette lit between his lips, and you wave him away with a spatula.
“No!” You scold, trying to shoo him closer to the window. “No smoking in my house! You know I hate the smell.”
Ghost rolls his eyes good-naturedly but lets you herd him to the open window, resting a shoulder on the windowsill and blowing a mouthful of air. You hmph, satisfied, and move to flip the pancakes. “You’re not the one who has to get that smoke out of all the furniture, you know.”
Ghost sighs, but he’s dramatic enough about it for you to know that he’s intentionally exaggerating his annoyance. “Awful early for all that nagging, woman.”
You glare at him playfully, picking up an egg to crack. “Awful early for a cig, too.”
He huffs and you crack your egg, the kitchen shifting into a comfortable silence. You continue your humming as the song changes to something more upbeat, unable to keep a smile from your face.
———————————————————————
You’re half tipsy, giggling into Soap’s mouth as the two of you stumble into the house. You manage to trip over the lip of the entrance, and you yelp as you start to fall.
Johnny just barely manages to twist and catch the both of you in time, grunting loudly as he hits the ground. The breath is knocked from the both of you, and you lay there in the dark for a moment, still.
You’re giggling as soon as you can breathe again, unable to stay still with all the energy and wiggling against his chest. “Jo-Johnny!”
“What?” He pants, still not fully able to take a breath in. You can see the outline of a smile, though, and his hands come up to fully cup your ass. “You were the one taht tripped, lass!”
That only makes you laugh harder, kicking your feet against his shins. “I-I know!”
Now he laughs, a full-bellied sound that has you bouncing on his chest. He manages to push himself up so that you’re in his lap, and presses his mouth to yours without warning.
You make a high sound of surprise but quickly kiss him back, licking into his mouth when he parts his lips.
Your kiss is messy, both of you a little too drunk and a little too needy to bother for tact. Johnny’s softer than he usually is, all tongue and no teeth. You wrap your arms around his neck, shifting so your knees rest on either side of him and squeeze his hips.
“Need you,” he pants into your mouth, shifting you over him to start a slow grind. “Need to be inside you, bonnie.”
“Yeah, please,” you say, quickly dropping your hands to his belt and clumsily working at his belt. It takes several tries for you to get it undone, and both of you get more and more desperate. Your underwear get more and more damp as you work yourself over the rough denim of his jeans, your skirt rucked up around your hips as he palms at your ass.
“Come on,” he growls, landing a harsh slap against the meat of your thigh. You yelp at the sting, then giggle, and finally manage to get his belt loose, quickly tugging it off.
“There you go,” you mumble, throwing the belt to the side and hearing it slide against the hardwood. “C’mon, c’mon, need you now, Johnny.”
He nearly snarls into your mouth, jerking your panties to the side and stuffing two fingers into you with no warning. You jolt higher on your knees and moan, digging your nails into his shoulder.
“Sit still,” he growls, tugging you back down and scissoring his fingers quickly to spread you. He slips a third finger in easily, your cunt already slick and dripping for him. “Stop fuckin’- stop wigglin’ around.”
You can’t help but giggle again, pushing your smile against his lips and nipping at his chin. “Can’t hold me down, MacTavish?”
You feel him grin, growling playfully, and before you can keep prodding him he’s got you flipped onto the floor beneath him. You squeal when he somehow manages to keep his fingers inside of you, pushing deep as he pins you down. He tucks your knees higher, both of your legs resting on his shoulders.
“I’ll show you held down, lass,” he growls, smile just barely visible above you. “Want it rough, then?”
You bite back another laugh, pushing up just enough to bite his bottom lip and tug it down with you. “As rough as you’ve got, MacTavish.”
It works as the perfect taunt you’d meant it as, and he’s buried in your tight heat before you can try and push him any further. Your head falls back against the hardwood floor as his falls to your throat, both of you moaning loudly as his hips meet your thighs.
“Fuck,” he groans, teeth pressed against your throat. When you arch your neck even further, he bites into your flesh, sucking a hicky and making you ever wetter between the thighs. “Fuck.”
“She tight, Johnny?”
You both yelp at the sudden voice, Johnny jolting away from your neck and shifting inside of you, causing you both to melt again.
There, in the corner of the room, is Ghost. He’s smoking a cigarette by the window, illuminated only by the glow of his cigarette butt and the moon. You can’t quite see his expression, but you can just imagine the cocky smirk.
Johnny groans above you, sinking back down to press kisses along your throat and forcing your knees almost to the side of your head. “Scared the shit outta’ me, Ghost,” he sighs, pulling out just enough to give you a few tiny thrusts. You moan, letting yourself relax into the floor.
“Not surprised,” Ghost says, and you watch as he stubs out the cigarette and take a few steps to where the two of you are tangled in each other. “How much did you two have to drink?”
You laugh at the question, but it melts into a moan as Johnny starts to find a rhythm that works for both of you. Your knees nearly knock against your own face as he makes his way across your neck, leaving bruising kisses.
“Not-” you choke a bit on a particularly rough thrust, just barely managing to keep your eyes open and watch as Simon settles into an armchair. “Not that much.”
“Yeah,” Johnny pants, lifting himself up enough to look down at you. “How-how much’ve you had, L.t.?”
Ghost snorts, taking a swig from a beer bottle you hadn’t noticed before. “Less’n you two, I can tell that much.”
You and Johnny both snicker, half out of breath already, but none of you try and keep speaking as Johnny starts to really fuck into you, finding a perfect rhythm that’s just a little messier than usual, a little jerkier.
The two of you make no attempt to be quiet, moaning and whining loudly as you work to find that peak. Even with folded in half as you are, you try to push into him as much as you can to help him hit the perfect spot inside of you.
You nearly scream when he does, clenching down so tightly onto him that he’s forced to a still inside of you, his length throbbing in time with your heartbeat.
The world blurs around you as Johnny takes your lips again, pressing your tongues together in a slick slide as he batters inside of you.
“Clo-close,” you gasp, clawing down his shoulders. Your nails dig in enough through his shirt to have him moaning, arching further into your touch.
“Me too, bonnie.”
He shifts enough to lean his weight further onto your thighs, newly freed hand smoothing down your chest and stomach to work against your clit. You melt beneath him, muscles going loose as you turn into nothing but a limp doll for him to fuck.
Your eyes squeeze shut as your orgasm starts to overcome you, Johnny’s work against your clit and the hot length inside of you finally shoving you over the edge.
“Fuck- fuck!” Johnny nearly shouts above you, your orgasm triggering his own. You cling tight to him, dragging his body as close to you as possible while your muscles clench down around him. The two of you are nearly drooling in each other’s mouths, eager for as much physical touch as possible.
It feels like an impossible amount of time later when you hear Ghost crouch down next to you, see his shadow cast over both you and Johnny. “You two done, then?”
You feel Johnny huff where he’s leaned against your cheek, feel his smile grow against yours.
“Yeah, Si,” you say, squirming a bit beneath Johnny to try and get out from under him. “I think we’re done.”
Johnny gans a little but he obliges and shifts back enough for his softened cock to pull out of you. You both whine in sync at the separation, and he finally lets your legs fall to the ground, heels thudding against the floor.
Johnny rolls off of you, flopping to the floor next to you. “Carry us to bed, L.t.”
You giggle and blink up at Simon, softened from your orgasm and the lingering buzz from your night out. “Yeah, L.t.,” you lift your arms high, making grabby hands like a toddler. “Carry us to bed.”
Ghost snorts above you, but he still leans down and scoops you up beneath the knees and the back. You squeal when he hefts you over his shoulder into a fireman's carry. He ducks low again and you grasp onto the bottom of his sweatshirt, then giggle when Johnny flops bonelessly over Ghost’s other shoulder.
He carries the two of you effortlessly down the hall, and Johnny’s soft laugh joins yours - well, at least before you hear a muffled slap and he quiets himself/ Of course that only makes you laugh, earning you a spank of your own.
You’re dropped rather carelessly onto the massive mattress all five of you share these days, hand flopping against what you’re sure is Price’s chest as Ghost falls on top of Johnny where he’s dropped.
You hear a muffled oof! from next to you and curl into Price with a smile, tucking yourself close to his chest. He rumbles a low noise, instinctually tucking you close. You can hear Gaz getting annoyed with Ghost and Soap, feel him kicking at them to fight for his own spot on the mattress. You fall asleep with Ghost’s back to yours and Price’s chest to yours, surrounded by warmth.
———————————————————————
You groan into the sheets in frustration, fists clenched tight. “Simon, come on, please.”
He spanks you sharply, but the pain is hardly noticeable compared to the need you’re drowning in.
“Quiet,” he grunts, three fingers spreading your ass. “Need to stretch you out properly, don’t want any tears.”
You whine, arching your back and pushing your ass further into the air. “I’m ready, I promise, just need you inside. I’ve been stretched for the last ten minutes!”
“And you’ll get stretched for ten more if you don’t quit complaining.”
It’s almost impossible to bite back a complaint at that, but you manage to dull it down to just a near-painful eye roll. You try your best to stay still for him, stay patient, even as you feel like your pussy is dripping like a faucet.
Ghost has fucked you with far less prep than this, you know he’s just trying to be an asshole - no pun intended. You also know that the more you rush him, the slower he’ll go. So you force yourself a little looser, let your body sink more comfortably into the position he’s got you in.
It doesn’t make the wait any easier.
You’re not sure how long it’s really been when he finally deems you stretched enough, but he finally pulls his fingers free. You whimper at the cold dribble of lube as he spreads a bit more across your stretched hole, the slick sounds echoing in the room telling you he’s likely spreading it across himself too.
“Alright, love,” he says, notching himself at your back hole with both hands on your hips. “Loosen up for me now.”
The stretch is sinful as he finally gives you his cock, enough for you to feel the sting but not at a painful point. Your eyes roll back in pleasure instead of frustration, and your knees shift just a little wider to welcome him more fully into your body.
“Fuck, you feel good<’ he grunts, grip tightening on your hip.
On a normal night with Ghost, you’d expect minimal prep and long rounds of edging. He likes to keep you from coming for as long as possible, then coax an orgasm that feels earthshattering from you when he finally shoves you off that ledge. Either that, or he fucks you quick and dirty - in the yard outside, in the shower, in the middle of the night, really any time he feels like getting off. With you around, there’s no need to masturbate. That leaves you getting bent over and used at any time he feels the slightest urge to get off, but you couldn’t mind less.
Now, though, Ghost paces himself far more slowly than usual. His thrusts are long, bottoming out and pulling back until the head of his cock just barely breaches your hole. If you couldn’t feel the way his hands bruise your hips, you’d almost call his pace leisurely.
The two of you are near silent as he fucks you, content to fill the air with soft moans and the occasional whine instead of dirty talk. It feels nice, such slow sex with Simon. It’s a side of him he rarely lets you see, even now.
He knows you can’t come from anal alone, and is feeling generous enough to grab one of your hands and shift it down, telling you, “Rub your clit for me, love. Wanna feel you come.”
And, well, who are you to disobey?
You bring yourself to a slow, rolling orgasm with rhythmic circles against your clit, hips working against his even with his grip. You moan more loudly now, moith open and spit spreading across the pillow.
“Si-Simon,” you gasp. “Feels so good, so deep.”
“Yeah? Deep in your ass, huh, love?”
“Mhmm, mhmm. Can hardly br-breathe around you, Si.”
“I know, so big in your little hole. You’re taking me well, though, being such a good girl for me. Gonna - fuck, love - gonna make me come, give you a nice load then plug you up.”
“Yes, yes…”
“You want that? Want to be stuffed with my come? Keep me inside of you ‘til I say you can take the plug out?”
“Yes, I’ll keep it in for you, Si, be so good for you.”
“Oh, I know it, love. Always a good girl for me, most perfect girl… fuck, feel so good around me…”
He groans when he finally gets himself off, pulling you back onto his harsher thrusts and letting your channel squeeze the come from him. You rub your clit a few more times, ignoring the aftershocks in favor of forcing your muscles to milk him a bit.
When he finally pulls out, he tucks a good-sized plug into your loosened hole before any of his come can slip out. You shift from your knees to your stomach with a soft hum, tugging a pillow into your arms as your eyes drift shut.
“You stayin’ in here for a bit?” Ghost asks, brushing some of your hair away from your face and dipping down to press a dry kiss to your cheek.
“Hmm. Gonna take a nap before dinner.”
“Alright. Need any help tonight?”
“No,” you hum, curling deeper into the bedding. “You can set the table, if you really want.”
You hear him laugh as he pulls away, weight shifting off of the mattress. “I’ll leave that to Johnny, I think.”
A few moments later the door click softly shut behind him, and you float into a peaceful slumber while trying to half-plan dinner.
———————————————————————
You’re half-asleep when you feel someone shift in bed next to you, their body covering yours. There’s a distinct hardness against the small of your back, and you press back against him.
“Stay still,” you hear Gaz whisper in your ear as he urges you further onto your stomach. You hum a little in response as he settles over you, kneeing your thighs apart enough for him to rest between them. “Don’t wanna wake anyone else up, right sweetheart?”
You hum again in what’s probably supposed to be agreement, but is really just a half-asleep sound. You trust all your boys, though, so you’re perfectly content to let Kyle do whatever he wants.
You sleep naked these days, so it’s easy for him to spread your cheeks a bit, to rub at your folds. You’re still a little damp from the shower sex with Price you’d had right before bed, and Kyle doesn’t seem to think you need much more than that.
You’re almost asleep again when you feel the tip of his cock at your hole, and then the familiar weight of him entering you. It’s hard not to groan, especially when you’re so dazed, but you think you do a good job.
Well, until Kyle shushes you loudly, stuffing a few of his fingers into your mouth.
You make a small offended noise, but it shifts into a sound of pleasure when he sinks fully inside of you.
“Hush. Don’t wanna share you right now, just needed to feel you for a bit.”
You feel his hips shift against yours before he sort of falls to the side, taking you with him. You’re left spooning him, his cock buried deep inside of you and kept warm by your body.
He sighs, pleased, against your back and pulls his fingers from your mouth, letting his hand float down to rest on one of your breasts. He squeezes you for a few moments, but that only works you up more and has you squirming against him.
Kyle makes a small, whining noise and squeezes you more tightly to him. “Stay still, love. Just want to hold you, let you hold me. Go back to sleep, yeah?”
You sigh, debate trying to get him to finish what he started, but ultimately decide that it sounds like far too much work for your current state.
So instead you let yourself relax into Gaz, body quickly adjusting to the weight and stretch of him. It’s easier than you might’ve thought to doze off like that, held close to Kyle’s chest.
#fun fact: this is completely unedited! anyway - yall ready for these tags?#kinktober#kinktober 2023#kinktober day 31#cod fanfic#call of duty fanfic#john price x reader#john price#price x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost riley x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#gaz garrick x reader#gaz x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#soap mactavish x reader#soap x reader#johnny soap mactavish x reader#johnny mactavish x reader#poly 141 x reader#141 x reader#is that all? did i do it right? IDK!#oh wait#bo writes#kyle garrick x reader#now that we're at the ends of the tags can i confess that i kinda hate this?
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FAMILY AFFAIRS w/Jujutsu Kaisen
( TW ) stepcest, dark content, (step)daddy Nanami + Toji, (step)brothers Geto + Gojo, unprotected sex, riding, semi-public sex, cheating, Daddy kink, masturbation, breeding kink, baby trapping (Gojo’s), Gojo’s obsessed and kind of insane.
Featuring: Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Toji Fushiguro, Gojo Satoru
☾ GOJO SATORU
“'Toru!” You scream as your stepbrother pounds into you from behind. You're holding into the edge of the hot tub as Satoru fucks you dumb.
“Love this fuckin’ ass angel.” Satoru groans as he watches your ass recoil. He slaps your right cheek a few times before doing the same to the left. He looks back at your parents' house. It’s the middle of the night but he can’t help but wish that they’d wake up to your loud moans, that they’d come out screaming about how you too shouldn't be doing this.
They knew better than to send Satoru away again. He would never leave you and if he had to sneak into his childhood home to fuck his girl--he would.
“Louder Angel,” Satoru grips your hips and pounds into you harder. “Want everyone to hear you screaming and cumming onto my cock.”
“Satoru! Love you s’much.” You slur, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your arms give out as he continues to pound it you like there's no tomorrow, you fall on the edge of the hot tub, half of your body hangs out. Satoru doesn’t stop, too far gone.
“M’gonna cum, gonna give you a baby, gonna make sure you’re never apart from me again!” Satoru pushes on your back. You grunt at the pain of being pushed into the hard, cold edge.
“Gonna cum, gonna cum ‘Ro!” You scream into the night.
“Come then baby, cum on your big brother’s cock while he fucks a baby into this sweet cunt.”
☾ NANAMI KENTO
“Quite sweetheart, mommy’s sleeping right behind me. Don’t wanna wake her up do you?” Your stepfather whispers in your ear as he pushes his thick cock into you.
You have to hold a hand to your mouth to stop yourself from screaming. You shouldn't be doing this; all your mother has to do is wake up and look over her husband's shoulder to see her daughter being held down on his cock.
“D-daddy.” You whisper, turning your head to look at him. He pushes the rest of his cock inside, stuffing you to the brim. You bite down on your bottom lip.
“S’too much Daddy.” You cry out, Nanami covers your mouth with his in an attempt to get you to stop talking. It hardly works, you cry louder into his mouth as starts to move his cock in and out of you.
“Feels s’good Daddy,” You moan into his mouth. “I love you.”
“I love you too baby, but you gotta be quiet or else Daddy’s not gonna be able to fuck you anymore. He’s gonna be sent away and you’ll never see me again.”
“No!” You choke. You didn't want your Daddy to be sent away. You wanted to stay with him forever.
“Then be quite baby.” He grunts when you clench down hard around him. He fucks you faster, stopping every few minutes when the bed starts to stake. You whine softly, closer and closer to cumming the more you think about your mother catching you. She’ll finally let Daddy be yours if she saw how much better you please him, all you would have to do is wake her up.
But you don’t scream as Daddy fucks you to orgasm. You don’t moan when you feel him cumming deep inside you of and you don’t say a word when he tells you to go back to your own bed. Because you’re a good girl, and if Daddy said to be quiet, you’d be quiet.
☾ GETO SUGURU
“Sit up.” Your stepbrother whispers. You grab onto the driver's seat and stand best you can while also trying not to draw attention to your parents upfront.
You were driving Suguru back to college, all his luggage and extra shit he was bringing were sitting in the other two seats, so you had no choice but to sit on your stepbrother's lap. You didn’t mind though.
“Alright--sit back down.” Suguru grabs your hips and brings your down on his cock. Your eyes widen and you gasp. Your thankful your parents like listening to the radio on full blast, you be mortified if they looked back to see you fucking the boy your supposed to call brother.
“Fuck, you feel so fucking tight,” Suguru groans, grinding his hips into your ass. “Ride me baby, ride my fucking cock.”
Still holding onto the driver's seat, you look down to make sure your skirt is covering you two before you arch up. Once you get to the tip of his cock you slide back down. “Sugu...” You moan at the feeling of being stretched.
“Shush y/n, don’t want mommy and daddy to turn around and see you bouncing on your big brother's cock, do you?” Suguru whispers in your ear as he brings you back down on his cock. Your legs start to shake.
You gasp and grind harder onto is cock before repeating the same movement. After a minute, your legs start to cramp from position you’re in. You fall back onto Suguru chest.
“C’mon be a good girl and bounce on my cock—what you’re already tired after a few thrust—do I have to do everything?” Suguru grabs your hips and slams you up and down the entire length of his cock. You bite the inside of your cheeks, trying your hardest to keep the moans in.
“Since you’re making big brother do everything, m’gonna cum in your cunt—no I don’t care about that—than take plan B when you get home!”
☾ TOJI FUSHIGURO
"How bad do you want it baby?” Toji watches from his place on the toilet as you trail your fingers down you to your pretty pussy
“S’bad daddy, want you s’bad!” You whimper, bringing your other hand up to your slippery tits. You squeeze your nipples as you watch you stepdad fists his cock. You slip a finger into your pussy. It’s nothing compared to his bigger ones.
“Look me in the eye and tell me what you’ve done to deserve it.” He grunts, spreading his thick, hairy thighs further apart. He reaches down with his free hand to play with his balls.
“I’m a good girl, I always do what you say—please Daddy, I need you,” You whine, tearing up when he just leans back to stare at you with a bored expression. “Please, Daddy.” You whimper, staring at him with big doe eye. You sniffle.
“Don’t fuckin’ cry, baby,” Toji sighs, he hates seeing his little girl cry. Toji stands and walks into the shower. He picks you just and you throw your arms around his neck “Hate makin’ my baby cry.” He grabs his cock and pushes the tip in. You whimper in her neck as he pushes you down.
“Daddy.” You whimper in his neck.
“Daddy’s gonna make you feel better baby.” He kisses your cheek.
“Yea?” You whisper grabbing his jaw and kissing him on the stubble.
“Yea, Daddy's gonna make you feel better—just want my baby to stop cryin'.”
#𐙚 ࣪ ˖ sugume writes#𐙚 ࣪ ˖ smut journal#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#smut#geto suguru#jjk geto#geto x reader#jujutsu geto#geto smut#geto x y/n#geto x you#nanami kento#jjk nanami#nanami x reader#nanami smut#nanami x y/n#nanami x you#toji smut#toji fushiguro#jjk toji#toji x reader#toji x you#toji x y/n#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x reader
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𝐁𝐈𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘
Toji Fushiguro
Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader
Summary: Toji has a cold and you're forced to deal with it
Warnings: Pure Fluff, Sick!Toji
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
Toji’s a huge baby, you’ve never really realized it until now. Everyone in the house got sick except Toji. His response to anything and everything? Suck it up, don’t act like a big baby. But Toji isn’t a type of God that is immune to illnesses.
Now, Toji’s the one whose head lays down on your lap, a tissue up his nostril as he cries about how bad he feels. Your fingers run through his hair as he complains. You never thought you’d see him so whiny, but here you are.
“What do you want to eat?” You ask him, knowing you have to feed him something or else he won’t be getting any better. You can’t deal with a sick Toji for more than three days.
“I just want to sleep. I’m sleepy.” He answers, but you aren’t letting him go to bed without eating something first.
“How about some soup?” You offer. But that’s not what he wants. And if he’s not getting what he wants, he’ll complain about it– If he’s miserable, he’ll make sure everyone else is miserable.
“I don’t want soup! I just want to sleep.” He raises his voice, and you almost want to slap him. Your fingers stop running through his hair, glaring down at him.
“Watch your tone, Toji. Who do you think you’re talking to?” You respond, and he begins to cough simply to remind you that he’s sick. A big baby.
“I don’t want soup.” He repeats in a normal tone this time. “I just need you. Keep running your fingers through my hair.”
“I need you to get better, baby. You have to eat something.” You tell him, but he’s having none of it. He doesn’t want to eat. He just needs two things: sleep and you.
“I’m not hungry. Just need you.” He answers, and a sigh escapes your lips. You can’t force him to eat. You hold back a smile though, knowing that he plays it up so he can get all the attention and love from you.
Unlike you, he actually smiles, knowing that it’s working.
#toji x y/n#toji zenin#toji fushiguro x reader#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#toji fushiguro#daddy toji#fushiguro toji#jujutsu kaisen toji#jujutsu toji#jjk toji#toji x reader#toji x you#dilf toji#toji fushiguro x you#toji fluff#toji imagine
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everyone’s asking for a part two so here is more angst bc cedar by gracie abrams is perfect for this [ also inspired by what @shotmrmiller said in their reblog :)) ]
part one here
part three (aka version 1 of the ending) here
part three (ending version 2) here
it’s odd coming home to an empty house. unnerving, even. he doesn’t like it— dislikes it even more than he did your celebrations. fuck, he’d kill for those damn streamers right now.
“love?” his voice is soft as he calls out into the dark, once lively little flat. it hasn’t felt this big since before you had moved in.
he takes a few more steps inside, toeing off his boots and letting his backpack fall to the floor. by now, you would’ve been launching yourself into his arms. where were you? you’d never missed the day he came home. ever. you would have it marked on your calendar from the day he left, exclamation points and stars decorating the date.
“love?” he calls again, his voice a little louder. he keeps moving; notices there’s no smell of freshly baked goods or a home-cooked meal.
he rounds the corner, his eyes instantly finding the little note propped up on the dining table. eyebrows furrowed, he approaches. it’s addressed to him, clearly in your handwriting.
he reads it, and he really should’ve seen all of this coming.
he doesn’t cry. doesn’t even feel sad, really. it’s not like he hadn’t loved you— he had, but sometimes you made it really damn difficult to. your constant touches and words, doting on him, talking his ear off about this and that. he’d loved it at first, then came to tolerate it, and eventually he found himself hating it.
it wasn’t fair to you. he didn’t hate you, he hated the naivety. the unconditional love. partners were supposed to show each other that kind of love, were they not? so why did he come to despise it?
perhaps it was some deep rooted self-hatred. something dark and twisted inside of him that had done too much and taken life. killed and killed and killed. watched his comrades die in a number of ways. slowly. quickly. suddenly. brutally.
it hollowed him out, but it was his job. it was his job to do what he could for the damn world— get his hands dirty so people like you would never have to worry about a damn thing.
he should’ve seen it coming. you had been acting a little odd the last time he was home, he realizes now. detached, almost. quieter. he had cherished the quiet then.
now it was weird. he didn’t know how to feel.
he placed the note back down onto the table before making his way into the kitchen. some utensils were missing. some plates and bowls. the colorful dishrags you’d hung from the stove handle. the little plant you’d stationed in front of the window above the sink.
all the pictures of the two of you remained on the fridge. he could see in the photos how he slowly became detached. but you— god, you wore that dazzling smile in every photo.
he turned around and headed towards the bedroom.
——————————————————————
there wasn’t really any defining closure. you’d left the note, sure, but he hadn’t gotten to speak his piece.
would he have begged you to stay? told you to leave?
he didn’t know. all he knew was that it wasn’t fair to you, how he acted. what he did.
he also knew that if you called, or if you showed up and said you forgot something, or hell, if he saw you on the street, he’d say something. apologize at least, because that’s the least you deserved.
but you didn’t, and after a few days, he stopped thinking about you. what you’d be telling him right now if you were there. stopped thinking about how you sang when you cooked dinner. how you would reach for his hand when the two of you were in the grocery store.
how you would throw those damn ‘welcome home!’ parties.
he fell back into who he was, and your memory became nothing but a minuscule dot on a large piece of paper.
but for you? you had been miserable when you’d shown up at your friends apartment. cried into her shoulder as you told her about the note. sobbed as you realized that he didn’t care about you, and how you’d wasted so much time on this man who didn’t give a damn.
but even still, when you stirred in the middle of the night, you expected to feel his hands around your body. expected him to press a kiss to your head as you drifted back to sleep.
you woke up and expected him to be there. you forgot that he wasn’t yours. you found yourself missing him, even though you’d starting doing that far before you actually left.
it took the man you loved days to move on. it took you months— almost a year. he put you in fucking therapy, for god’s sake, because that shit messes with someone.
loving someone so completely, so wholly, only to finally realize it’s one sided? it’s crushing. he crushed you. but you picked up the pieces, and you put yourself back together.
you move on. find someone who actually cares for you— someone who communicates and doesn’t lose interest. someone who appreciates your enthusiasm. someone who returns it.
and when the man that broke your heart several years ago tries to stop you on the street one day,
you keep walking.
#simon riley angst#simon riley x gn reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#john price drabble#john price fic#john price x reader#john price#captain price fic#captain price x reader#captain price#angst#ghost x y/n#ghost x gn reader#ghost x you#ghost angst#ghost call of duty#ghost x reader#ghost cod#john price angst#price angst#cod mw2 fic#cod mw2#cod mw2 angst
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Marked Only for Me (Olderbf!Mike Schmidt NSFW)
hii!! okay, i have never written smut before, so i am begging you all to plz be patient with me! this is very long, so my apologies.this is a part of my olderbf!mike series, so hope u guys likeee. also, for this let's make the assumption mike went to college and all of that before his security jobs. he just had burn out and was there, hence why he's working for a major company with what would be little experience. anyways, lmk what u think!
summary: mike comes home and needs to blow off some steam
warnings: nudity, sex, name calling, hair pulling, choking, marking, possessiveness, an implied free use situation, fluff at the end!!
word count: 2,925
nsfw after the cut!!
You were sitting at the kitchen table doing homework in the home you shared with your boyfriend, Mike. You're 20, a couple of years into college, drudging through math problems that make your head feel like it's sitting inside a frying pan. You had to admit this wasn't your ideal way to relax after a 10-hour shift at the bookstore you helped run. Things had been hectic with Black Friday, your store doing a special sale where everything was 50% off, and bookworms were coming out of random corners to fill their already overflowing shelves for cheap. Of course, being younger, you were the one who had to do the grunt work, carrying piles of books to and from inventory, dealing with the more demanding customers as your older coworkers would tell you that they "just couldn't handle kids these days" and that it'd certainly be better for the younger one to do it. Luckily, though, Abby was at a friend's house, meaning you didn't have distractions. You were as focused as could be with a cup of coffee beside you, the sunlight that was once beaming through the cracks of the blinds now completely gone. You were focused, your brain functioning as much as it would with the problems. Things were quiet.
...That is until Mike stormed in. He was frustrated, angry, an invisible red-hot aura beaming off him. His hair was messier than it typically was. The softness in his eyes was instead replaced with a cold look. His eyebrows were furrowed together on his forehead, his jaw sharp and defined as he gritted his teeth. Although this wasn't common, it wasn't necessarily rare either. Mike worked for a publishing company as a marketing manager. He'd gotten the job after a few months of hard work to make up for the slack on his resume after working at the mall and the pizzeria. He moved up the ladder quickly, his company admiring his friendly attitude and his somewhat shy but personable behavior. He loved his job much more than his past ones. He felt happier, got more time off, was less stressed, and was definitely safer. Even with that being said, sometimes shit just pissed him off.
Today's big issue was a meeting with his marketing team, which also involved the big guy over his head. He felt like he was criticized, demeaned, dragged through the mud, and all in front of the team he was supposed to be respected by, listened to. On a typical day, this might not have pissed him off so much. He might've mentally plotted the demise of his boss, but he wouldn't have caused the outburst he did at work, and today had been particularly awful. He'd been late, burned his breakfast, knicked himself while shaving, and even gotten into what he considered to be a little fight with you the night before. Even though you'd both settled the argument, made up, and kissed before bed, he had been thinking about it all day. He'd then spilled coffee on his brand new tie, leaving a stain, and then... that happened. Mike snapped. He yelled at his boss, showing his ass in front of everyone, causing a meeting in his boss's office to end with an inevitable write-up.
Now, he was home, trudging in all his bad energy, disrupting your study time. You couldn't even be frustrated with him, his demeanor proving he'd obviously had a bad day. You went to stand up to greet him with a hug, a kiss or two, but before you could, Mike stormed over to you, grabbing your arm harshly. You gasped, slightly thrown off by his sudden actions. He pulled you closer to him, his eyes locked on yours and his breath heavy against your neck.
"What the fuck, Mike?" you said, your eyebrows furrowed as you stared into his cold brown-green orbs.
"Listen to me," he grunted, his voice low and gravely. "I have had a very, very bad day, and I need you to be a good girl for me, okay? I don't want no shit, no back talk, you'll listen to what I say.. do you understand?"
His hand still gripped your arm, his fingernails digging into your skin. You could feel yourself starting to drip, your panties feeling damp against your skin as your body buzzed with excitement. All you could do was nod your head, your eyes locked on his as they clouded over with lust. Mike snapped his fingers in your face, looking at you from underneath his eyebrows.
"Use your words," he demanded.
"Yes sir, I understand," you stuttered out, your cheeks flushing red. Mike's face was now pleased, his entire demeanor softening a little. His hand stayed wrapped around your arm as he tugged you into the living room, pushing you roughly onto the couch. You huffed from the impact, your eyes widening as Mike dropped to his knees before you. He slid your sweatpants off, prying your knees open to reveal your see-through pink panties soaked beyond belief. His eyes were hungry, his mouth open, almost drooling as he looked directly into your eyes.
"All for me, babydoll?" he teased, his hand sliding in between your legs as he drew small circles around your clothed clit. You nodded your head as a whimper escaped your lips, the aching in between your legs only growing worse.
"What did I tell you?" he said, his words sharp as he smacked the inside of your thigh.
"Yes sir," you corrected, your words wavering after the impact from his hand. Mike nodded, satisfied with your answer, as he slowly slid your panties down your thighs, wasting no time. You gasped once again as the cold air hit your wet cunt. Mike exhaled sharply, taking a moment to admire you in front of him. His eyes trailed up to your pathetic look, your already-glazed-over eyes, down to your barely clothed chest, only a sports bra covering your breasts he loved so much, then down to in between your legs, where you were so wet, and all just for him. His lips trailed up to your tummy, sucking on the skin in different areas, from above your abdomen all the way up to right below where your sports bra stayed, purple marks forming.
He then dove in without hesitation, his large hands gripping your sides as he leaned in, moving one hand to take his index and middle finger to spread your pussy lips. His mouth instantly attached to your clit. You yelped as you bucked your hips forward, his lips meeting the sensitive area. Mike pinched your thigh, a sign to quiet down until he said to do otherwise, two of his fingers reaching out to be shoved into your mouth.
“Suck,” he demanded, his fingers going as far back down your throat as they could. You did what you were told, sucking on his fingers and drawing your own circles with your tongue. His tongue drew tiny and slow circles against the set of nerves, your hands reaching down to tangle in his hair from desperation. God, he loved eating you out. The way you yelped, quivered, shook underneath him, your hands tangled in his hair to keep yourself from going over the edge. He fucking loved it, you were the perfect cure to his anger, calming, something he could take it out on in a productive way that made everyone feel good. Your whines were suppressed as you bit your lip, your teeth digging into the softer skin. Mike pulled away for a moment, his eyes locking with yours once again as he admired your face, your now swollen lips.
“You know what, baby? Be as loud as you want for me now, princess,” he mumbled, going back to attacking your wet cunt. Slurping sounds filled the living room mixed with your moans and whimpers as his tongue slid up and down your slit, his lips wrapping around your clit to suck as hard as possible when his tongue wasn’t fucking inside of you. He moaned against you, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. His cock was rock hard inside of his work pants, his own face flustered as he rocked back and forth against himself. His tongue continued to lap at your clit as he slid two of his large fingers in and out of you, your walls clenching around them. You could feel yourself drawing close and Mike could tell. Your thighs attempted to clench around his head, but before they could his calloused hands pried them open, holding them apart. Just as your eyes began to clamp shut, your thighs shaking as the knot in your stomach started to untie, Mike pulled away. You gasped as he slipped his fingers out, furrowing your eyebrows as you stared at him with an angry glare. He chuckled as he stood up, raising his eyebrows up and down as he leaned down, his hand lifting your chin up.
“Poor baby, was all ready to finish for me, hm? You were gonna be ‘Mikey’s little slut,’ weren’t you? That’s what you tell me you are, right? My little slut?” he teased, no remorse behind his eyes. You huffed, punching his arm before crossing your arm, too out of it to say anything from the knot that remained in your stomach but too angry to take initiative.
“Awh, don’t be mad, princess,” he snickered, shaking his head as he leaned further down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “You really think I’m done with you?”
With that being said, Mike pushing you back on the couch. His right hand held you down as his lift struggled to unbutton his pants. He pulled his pants down, letting them fall around his ankles as he yanked his boxers off, his cock springing out. He stepped out of them, letting you go for a moment to unbutton his shirt before tossing it off as well. Mike then looked over to you, leaning forward, ripping your thin sports bra off of your chest, your breasts now exposed to him. He licked his lips, excitement overflowing his body. He crawled on top of you, attempting to make the two of you fit on the couch. His mouth attacked your nipples, biting and gnawing at your skin. His mouth moved up to your neck, sucking and prodding and biting until purple marks were left all around, ones you were all too aware would be impossible to hide later on. He moved down to your chest once again, marks all across your collarbone, your tits. Mike’s hands gripped onto your neck as he sat up, looking into your glossed over eyes. He pressed his lips to your ear, a soft kiss against your earlobe.
“’M about to fuck you so hard you see stars,” he said, his voice causing prickles to cover your skin. Then, without hesitation Mike slammed into you, his pace staggered. Your moans were as loud as could be, the sound of skin hitting against each other and the echoes of both of your voices filling the living room. His thrusts were sloppy as he felt himself starting to get close to the edge, his hands pushing your hips down and into the couch. Your entire body sunk into the cushions as he used everything in him, his cock abusing your poor cunt. You swore you saw stars until you felt his hand gently smack against your cheek, your eyes averting back to his gaze.
“You’re gonna look at me when I fuck you, princess,” he growled, his hand sliding up to your hair as he tugged. You grew close, clenching around his length, your thighs starting to shake. Your core was threatening to come undone.
“Fuck, Mikey, baby, I’m gonna fucking cum,” you whimpered out, closing your eyes as your head leaned back against the side of the couch.
“Cum for me, baby,” Mike stated. You did as he demanded, finishing around his cock as your liquids gushed against him. His thrusts grew sloppier before he pulled out, pressing a kiss to your lips.
“You’re such a good girl, you know that baby? You did so good for me, listening to what I said, letting me use your pretty cunt,” he stated, his thumb caressing your cheek. He then resituated, pulling you off the couch, pushing you onto the ground. You were now in the same position he was in earlier, completely fucked out. Your lips were dull from exhaustion, your cheeks red and your hair knotted in certain areas. Mike’s cock was directly in front of you, his hand guiding for you to suck on him. Your lips wrapped around his tip, the tip of your tongue licking his slit. You worked your mouth down his length, licking the sides. Mike’s moans became frantic, desperate as your mouth worked its magic. His hand tangled in your hair as he pushed your head up and down, thrusting up into your mouth.
“That’s it, baby, feels so good,” he grunted. With no warning, Mike pulled out, spilling his load all over your face. He twitched, his moans loud and low, your tongue stuck out to catch his cum. His body laid against the couch, feeling heavy as his head leaned against the back of his couch. A tired grin was on his lips as you also smiled up at him, licking yourself clean. Mike looked down at you, a chuckle releasing his lips. It was obvious all of the tension and anger was gone, as his once cold eyes were once again the soft loving brown they used to be. He looked at you with adoration, always amused by how gorgeous you were even after rigorous activity and getting your face painted.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, picking you up bridal style as he leaned down to kiss you, not caring about his own load that was now on his face. He sat you down on the bathroom counter, grabbing a washcloth out of the cabinet, running it under warm water. He started to wipe away all of the liquids covering your face, pressing kisses to your skin here and there, looking your body up and down as he admired all of the marks he left.
“You always know how to make me feel good and how to take care of me after,” you croaked out, your voice laced with exhaustion as you smiled. Mike smiled back at you, his hand tenderly touching your cheek before pushing your hair behind your ear.
“I love you, of course I want to make sure ‘m taking care of you,” he said softly. His lips once again pressed against yours. “Thank you for letting me… you know.. blow off some steam,” he said, wiggling his brows.
“Of course, honey. I was worried, though. Is everything okay? Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, leaning forward as you slid off of the counter, grabbing a new washcloth and beginning to wipe his face with it as well. Mike sighed, shaking his head as he looked at her with sad eyes.
“I just- I got into it pretty badly with my boss at work and got criticized, I felt like a wounded animal, like I had to fight. I’m so used to having to fight that I don’t know how to shut up and listen,” he mumbled. “It was so bad, Y/N, and I got written up after that awful day I had this morning… I just.. I don’t know. I do know I feel better now, and would feel even better if we cuddled for a bit and then went out for food?” he suggested, spilling his thoughts to you. You giggled, nodding your head as you reached up to press a kiss to him. You dragged him into your shared bedroom, the two of you cuddling up together under the blankets. You turned to your side, your eyes locked with his.
“I love you, Mike, so much. And I’m so, so unbelievably proud of you. Thank you, for always making me feel good too, for taking care of me, for being such a good brother to Abby, just… thank you,” you said softly. Mike looked back at you lovingly, his appreciation for you apparent.
“I love you, princess, you don’t even know how much,” he mumbled. His eyes were heavy. He leaned over and set an alarm for an hour from now, the two of you planning on a night of dinner out and grocery shopping. He curled his arm around you lazily, your body limp and exhausted against his as you yawned.
“Oh, and baby?” he asked. You hummed, lifting your head to meet his eyes. “Wear a crop top when we go out, I want everyone to see you all marked up.” You giggled as you laid your head down, drifting off to sleep.
When you two went out, you did just that, wearing a cropped scoop neck shirt with a low-rise flowy skirt. He showed off any marks you’d left, too, your possessive boyfriend holding you close anytime someone’s eyes linger too long. Mike was strange, possessive, and sometimes a little of what most would say was unsettling, but to you, he was the love of your life, the man who made you feel good, the one who fucked you until you couldn’t think. You loved him, and you always would, blessing you with a lifelong supply of angry sex and aftercare cuddles.
#josh hutcherson x reader#mike schmidt#mike schmidt fluff#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt imagine#josh hutcherson#josh hutcherson fanfic#josh hutcherson fluff#josh hutcherson imagine#mike schmidt smut#olderbf!mike
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