#but again i thank you for this message! i will still take your words into consideration regardless đ„°
"MY SALVATION."
a/n : hi, so.. uhm, after a long hiatus lmao, i've finally decided to return and stay for good. yay! so this will be a part of a series titled "you who i worship, before you i kneel." which is a three part series featuring arlecchino, raiden ei and furina!:) all of which are NSFW. i'll be posting regularly every week during fridays!! thanks a bunch for reading.
-warning/s ; NSFW (mdni), transfem! arlecchino, maybe ooc?
-pairing/s ; arlecchino x fem! reader (men dni)
- where in; these three women worship you, their lover, when hundreds and thousands, even millions of followers would drop on their knees to ask for blessings, for mercy, for prayers - and yet for you, at your beck and call, they would do anything you ask as they kneel for you at the same time , as proof of their devotion to you.
âmy l-lord, i didnât mean to-â
âsilence, and shut your mouth. you imbecile.â the knaveâs unforgiving tone had shut the fatui agentâs mouth, and a blade had been shot on the ground, just a few millimeters where the agent kneeled in front of her for mercy. it was a warning shot, no- a message telling that agent how badly they fucked up for even letting those treasure hoarders lay a single finger on you.
âincompetent, useless, even my children could do better than you. i made a mistake by entrusting my wifeâs safety to you.â
the knave spat once more, turning her back on the agent, and the agent started to beg. he knew, that this could be his final moments as she started to walk away. âlyney, take him away. i shall go see your mother.â she ordered, and her orders were absolute. lyney had taken away the agent, to who knows where, and his cries echoed into the hallway- until they were no more.
arlecchino had walked in the chambers she shared with her wife, and on their bed, her beloved lay. at the sound of the door opening, you immediately sat up to greet your wife with a smile and were about to stand up, but she looked at you with a stare which told you not to, so you stay still on the edge of the bed. âmy beloved, what is the matter?â you ask with a tired and worried sigh.
the knave kneels in front of you, gently laying her cheek on your lap.
this was a clear sign to you that your beloved had been troubled and you took it as a cue to start running your hands through her hair, undoing the braids and comforting her with your touch. âmy beloved, i was worried..â she murmured, confiding her emotions to you, her most trusted confidante. she raised her head up to meet your eyes, and there, you saw her eyes filled with care, with worry, eyes that sheâd never show to anyone else other than you. hell, you were sure that no one else knew or even thought that the knave was capable of even looking like this.
âmy beloved, if anything were to happen to you..â
now it was her turn to touch you, her hand reaching up to caress your cheekâ softly, gently, complete juxtapose to her intimdating appearance.âi could never forgive myself, my beloved..â she continued, now getting up to meet your lips with hers. oh, how she longed for youâ she would always long for you, and how scared she was that sheâd never get to do this again. to feel your warmth, the subtle sighs that left your lips, as the kiss slowly became more and more heated, fueled with more fervor, and she had gently pushed you down on the soft bed. her hands ran down your smooth skin, which were much different to her much rougher and bigger hands, and she spread kisses on your neck. âmy goddess, my beloved.. oh how iâve missed you.â she admitted, licking on your skin, craving to taste you. she kept chanting âmy belovedâ again and again like a prayer against your skin, and her hand trailed down, lower, and lower.
until your breath hitched.
âa-arlecchino, slowly.. please..â you begged, and your orders were absolute. arlecchino wanted to disobey, to ruin you, to rut into you with reckless abandon, but no, your words were her calling. she gently eased a finger in, then looking at you. âis this to your liking, my beloved?â she asked, and your nod gave her a positive sign that she was doing well. slowly, but surely, her finger felt every single corner of your insides, causing you to moan and cry, due to pleasure at first, but then it turned to one of need. it was her cue to start adding another in all while increasing the pace, and you let out a cry, she gently hushed you with a kiss and you looked at her with eyes filled with tears. âmy beloved, are you okay?â she asked, and you nodded, unable to answer. her fingers felt so damn good. âthen shall i take it that i can lead for tonight, my beloved?â she asked, and you nodded once more.
she got up, kneeling on top of you as she started undoing her clothes with haste as she took in your beauty, the breathtaking sight of her goddess under her, and she strongly believed that no sight in teyvat could rival this. as soon as all the pesky fabric was peeled away, the tip of her dick had prodded at the entrance of your folds, and no more than a little whileâ were you moaning and crying her name. asking her for more, to go harder, to go faster, and who was she to deny her belovedâs wishes and demands?
the knaveâs loyalty does not lay itself to snezhnayaâs archon, no, for it belongs to her beloved. she lives to please you, to make love to you in more ways than one, to nourish life within the house of hearth with you as it was your wish.
arlecchino had let herself free from all the restraint that had been holding her back, her hips raised at a certain angle where it'd hit the spot she knew would drive you crazy. her lips pressing against the most sensitives spots of your skin, painting it with subtle marks that ignited a possessive ember within her chest. you were as much as hers, as much as she was yours. nothing could change that-- and arlecchino made sure of it.
with one loud groan and a sharp thrust, you felt her warmth flooding your insides. arlecchino slowly leaned in to press a soft kiss against your cheek, panting and breathless, with a gentle smile. tonight was a living memory, one of the many testimonies of her devotion for you, and the tsarita be damned. she lives for you, she serves you, and she would die for you. to her, you were her world. her goddess. her beloved.
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How About a Nuke?
Part VIII / Part IX
(Completed) Series Masterlist
Cooper Howard x fem!reader, The ghoul x fem!reader
A/N: PLEASE READ, we have reached the end of their journey and I am so sad/happy/excited about it. I donât even know how to feel honestly. I just want to thank everyone who has commented, messaged or reblogged this story. Your kind words and funny little depressed memes have been really uplifting for me. I was actually considering just giving up on this blog when I posted the first chapter. I havenât had much inspiration lately or interaction I feel like, and you all have helped reignite that spark within me.
Summary: Thereâs something keeping you tied to Cooper Howard, an invisible string wrapped around you both. Youâve fought against it as long as you could but heâs not gonna let you fight for much longer.
Itâs been a month and the bounty on her head gets bigger everyday. Normally the compound hires privately, they donât like going through the agencies. He figures with Sylvie dead theyâre struggling to find a new leader and theyâre falling apart. Or theyâre just desperate for her head on a stick.Â
He sees her face everywhere, crudely drawn images of her varying in their accuracy. In some she has a hat like his on, in others her nose is the wrong shape, or her eyes are all wrong. No one seems to have a good grasp on who she is. Out of curiosity and a strange need to know sheâs still alive, heâs asked around.Â
There are different rumors as to where sheâs hiding out. Some think sheâs taken to hiding out in the caves near Filly. Anyone with half a brain knows that the areaâs overrun by irradiated bears and other mutated freaks.Â
There are those that say theyâve seen her wandering through the sands. Following that lead had led him nowhere. He doesnât know where she is and itâs driving him insane. Sheâs like a constant itch in the back of his mind that he just canât scratch. Days and nights are spent thinking about her and he hates it.Â
Heâs not sure what heâd do when he does find her. Whether heâd shoot her to repay the favor or just tie her up to keep her from leaving again. Heâs conflicted on how he feels about her. Heâs bothered that he feels anything towards her at all. And he knows that when she shot him, she was shooting to kill.Â
She had no way of knowing that he would heal from that bullet. Sheâd watched him bleed out on the ground and left him for dead. He was impressed, as much as he wanted to be mad, he was almost proud in a way.Â
Throughout their tumultuous lives and times together sheâd always had to be guided by him. Heâd shown her the ways of whatever world they were living in. Sheâd relied on him and he enjoyed it. The time had to come when eventually she wouldnât need him anymore.Â
Itâs outside of Filly that he finds the most accurate poster of her so far. She looks like she did in their first movie together. A proper outlaw, wanted all across the Wastelands for her crimes against a bunch of sick fucks. If he could kill Sylvie again, he would. Heâd kill all of them.Â
Not that heâs condemning them because of what the compoundâs doing. Heâs dabbled in organ trade before, eaten people, heâs done a lot of fucked up shit. But he draws the line at trying to hurt her. Heâs the only one who should be allowed to fuck with her.
He takes the poster down and whistles softly at the price under her name. Itâs enough to keep him happy for a longtime. If he never wanted to take on another bounty he wouldnât have to. Course, he was never in this for the money. A manâs gotta have something to entertain himself with at the end of the world.Â
He wonders if sheâs even still alive. Maybe a Deathclaw got her a day after she left him behind. He could have walked past her corpse and never even known it. He folds the poster up and slips it in his bag. He doesnât know why he bothers keeping it. Possibly because itâs the closest thing to her that heâs got, but he doesnât feel like lingering on that thought for long.Â
He tugs his hat lower on his head and heads through the tunnel leading to Filly. Heâs caused a lot of issues here over the years. Usually he kills most of the people who could identify him as an instigator, but he doesnât feel like pushing his luck today. He needs more supplies and he knows Ma June wonât sell to him if he causes a fight beforehand.Â
Itâs louder than normal today, more people rushing around. Theyâre all congregating around something in the center of the marketplace. He turns to the left, heading up the stairs to try and get a better look at whatâs got everyone so excited.Â
âThey found her!â A boy shouts, fidgeting in his spot next to him. He glances at him from under his hat and the boy pales before scurrying away from him. His lips turn up in a cruel grin and he finally gets a good look at whatâs happening.Â
Sheâs kneeling in the middle of the marketplace, two Knights on either side of her. Heâs more surprised by the fact that she actually has picked up a hat in her time away from him.Â
She seems to be playing into the outlaw routine more than he thought she would.Â
Youâre embarrassed, honestly, that you let these two idiots capture you. Them and their useless little squires.Â
Youâve found odd jobs through the Brotherhood when they need assistance looking for relics of the old world. Though, youâre really not sure how much use a toaster oven can be to them, but they pay good money for it.Â
Once your bounty was posted and they figured out who you were, though, that stopped being useful. You canât even hunt bounties because the agencies would just grab you and turn you over to the compound.
They clearly didnât give a shit about women, you donât get why theyâre making this whole Sylvie situation such a big deal.Â
You had to bribe Ma June by buying some of her junk, but eventually sheâd helped you find some work in Filly. The people here are stupid enough that they donât recognize you when they see you. Most of them are high or drunk so the only thing you have to worry about is wandering hands and not stepping in the middle of their brawls.Â
From the patrons of the bar you hear stories about yourself. How you slaughtered the entire compound, even the children, which is so far from the truth you canât help but scoff. Or how you apparently slept with a ghoul and you're carrying his mutant baby.Â
You donât even know where they got that one from.Â
They also seem to think you wander through the sands, shooting anyone who gets in your way. Itâs a comfort that no one seems to have caught onto you yet. But itâs also disheartening to know that all thatâs left of civilization is a bunch of psychopathic idiots.Â
What happened to natural selection?
You know your stint in Filly is up when two Knights walk in, their squires struggling to carry their bags behind them. You pull your hat further over your head and duck behind the bar. You try to keep your back to them and let the old man, Marley, who runs the bar deal with them.Â
His shaky voice is cautious as he greets them, âWhat are Knights doing so far out here?â
One of their distorted voices rings out through the, now quiet, bar. âWe got bored. Wanted to shoot some shit.â
You roll your eyes and focus on cleaning the cup in front of you. You spit into it, not enough water to properly clean it, and scrub at it with a stained towel. Marley hums, clearly displeased with the answer. You can hear his tottering steps approaching you and wince, praying heâs not going to do what you think he is.Â
He tugs on your shirt with a shaky hand and you slump forward in defeat. âDeal with these jackasses,â he mutters, taking drinks over to a different table.Â
You pour the only alcohol the bar has into two cups and keep your head down as you approach. âHeard that a woman took over for Knight Damien.â
One of them scoffs and shakes his armored head, âWhat the fuck is this world coming to?â You donât know how theyâre planning on drinking their liquor with the helmets on but youâre not going to ask stupid questions. You drop the cups in front of them, but your hand slips and one of them tips over into a Knightâs lap.Â
âIâve got it, sire.â Their squire lunges forward and begins vigorously scrubbing their armor. Your face curls up in distaste and youâre about to walk away when a metal hand grips your wrist.Â
âHoly shit, itâs her!â Oh, youâre so screwed.Â
Theyâve got a fucking leash on you, itâs humiliating. The scarred and dirt-covered faces of the citizens of Filly surround you. Theyâre all leering, shouting at you and begging the Knightâs to share in the bounty. But the Knightâs arenât listening, theyâre just congratulating each other.Â
âWhat do you think theyâll give us?â
One of them shoves their squire and he goes toppling into his large bag, feet flailing in the air. âHopefully better fucking squires. Iâm getting sick of this oneâs stupid face.âÂ
The squire kneels down and shouts in a shaking voice, âIâm sorry if Iâve disappointed you, sire!â God, you really hate these people. You wished they would just shoot you. Having to sit here and listen to them talk was making your brain go numb.Â
The Knightâs distorted laugh rings out through his helmet. The other one glances over at you, âWhat do you think she did? Iâve never seen the compound this pissed off.â
âI dunno. Hey!â You know heâs talking to you, that they want an answer, you really donât care to give them one. âWhatâd you do?â They stare at you for a moment and then he sighs when you donât respond. He shoves his squire towards you and the kid goes stumbling over his feet. âMake her talk.â
He nods rapidly, head bobbing up and down. âOf course, sire.â Your hands twitch to your side and you give him a wicked grin as he approaches.Â
Heâs debating going down there and trying to help her when the first shot goes off. He doesnât even see it happen, he just watches as one of the squires drops to the ground.Â
Those who donât want to get caught in the crossfire are quick to move away from the area, hiding in their shops or shoving past him to get through the tunnel. He heads down the stairs, taking his time and trying to figure out where the shot came from.Â
The second squire moves towards her and his head flies back, a hole between his eyes and his brains splattering across the ground. One Knight shoves the other one and points at their dead squireâs, âDid you not take her fucking gun?â
Heâs been in those suits. He remembers how it felt, the power you get from being in them. How they make you feel like a big man. He also remembers how fucking slow they could be. Sheâs on her feet and running for cover before they can even start to grab her.Â
She dives behind a stall and tugs a knife out of her boot, sawing at the ropes around her wrists. He canât reach her before the fighting starts. Someone in the remaining crowd shouts, âGrab her! Get the bounty!â And all hell breaks loose.Â
Someone runs at him and he shoots them before they can grab him. Shots start going off, the Knightâs mowing down anyone who tries to swoop in on their bounty. Everyone else is shooting blindly, just trying to get rid of the competition so they can claim her bounty as their own.Â
He ducks under the hail fire and slides next to her as sheâs reloading her gun. She glances over at him and frowns, âDidnât I kill you?â
He hears a shout and watches as some half-feral woman charges at them. She shoots her dead and turns back to him. He gives her a wry smile, âYou want to do this now, sweetheart?â
She peers over her cover and surveys the chaos going on around them. She sighs and glances back at him, âWhy arenât you dead?âÂ
He tugs one of his specially made bullets out of his bag and loads it into his gun. He lifts himself to his knees and aims at the weak spot on the Knightâs chest plate. They both watch as blood explodes out of the neck of the power armor, the Knightâs friend cussing as he watches him die.Â
âNext time,â she turns to look at him, âaim for the head,â he instructs. She glares at him before making her way to Ma Juneâs shop. He follows, not willing to let her out of his sight again, and she ducks behind the barrels of supplies in front of the shop.Â
âClearly,â she winces as the Knightâs gun starts firing off again, âIâm not making it out of here on my own.â They dive to the side as bullets rip through the barrels theyâre leaning against. Theyâre not gonna have cover for much longer.
He grins at her, âSounds like youâre asking me for a favor, darling.â
The sounds of screams and bodies dropping is nearly deafening. A few feet away a bullet catches a man in the throat and he drops to the ground. They watch as he chokes on his blood and tries to claw his way to safety. Steps rapidly approach them and she turns to shoot a different man, his body dropping an inch away from them.Â
He turns back to her and his lips turn down, âAfter you tried to kill me? You want my help,â he laughs at her and she glares.Â
Before she can speak a voice rings out above them, âI got her!â He shoots at the woman on the upper level above them, half of her leg gets blown off and she tumbles over the railing, narrowly missing the pair.Â
He turns back to her, âYouâre asking a lot, darling.â
âYouâve fucking shot me, twice. Iâm not asking you for anything.â Her lips turn down in a sneer and she looks at him like the very sight of him disgusts her. âI don't need your help. I don't need you.â She glances back over her shoulder, surveying the gore and the bullets flying around them. She checks her gun and he sees just how little ammo she has left. âIâll handle this myself.â She snaps the chamber of her gun closed and moves to get up. He grabs her wrist and yanks her back down, ignoring the angry expression on her face.Â
âLook, you might not want my help, but you need it, sweetheart. Just stay here.âÂ
You watch as Cooper runs off, his guns firing before heâs even fully standing. You only wait a second before youâre running into Ma Juneâs and out her back door. She shouts at you as you barrel through her shop, knocking over her displays and shelves, but you canât waste any time getting the hell out of dodge.Â
Youâre surprised Cooper was stupid enough to think you would actually wait for him. The Knightâs had called for an air evac out of Filly and if you stay there any longer youâll be back in the compound before you can blink.Â
Youâve spent a month evading them, youâre not about to let yourself get caught because of Cooper.Â
You canât believe heâs not dead. Itâs not like youâve been losing sleep over killing him, but itâs been hard to cope with the fact that you killed the man that was once the love of your life. Seeing him again, though, you wished you had shot him in his smug face.Â
Youâd forgotten, in the time apart, just how condescending he could be. He seemed to think you needed him to survive. You didnât.Â
At best, he provided the comfort of company. Poorly.Â
Despite how much he undervalued you, you were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. You didnât need him to save you. You would have figured your way out of there on your own, eventually. Youâve handled yourself a month in the Wastelands without him. You learned how to carve an existence for yourself out here and you did it without help.Â
You race into the woods beyond Filly, putting as much distance between you and the sounds of fighting as quickly as you can. The trees around you begin to shake, the ground vibrating and a swirl of dirt and leaves rises into the air and whips you in the face.Â
You look up and begin pushing yourself faster. One of the Brotherhoodâs Vertibirdâs is circling Filly. âThis is not a hostile landing! Please remain calm!â You blame your distraction on the announcement.Â
You would have heard him coming up behind you if you hadnât been listening to whatever the Brotherhood was saying. Rope loops around your arms and youâre yanked backwards. Your head thumps painfully hard against the forest floor, rocks scraping you as youâre dragged across the ground.Â
Cooperâs face appears over yours, a cruel smile on his lips. âNow, this seems awfully familiar.â He walks around you, boots straddling your waist and grabs you by the front of your shirt, yanking you back to your feet. âI thought I told you to stay put, sweetheart.â
You frown at him, shoving your leg up between his. He groans, doubling over while you shimmy out of the loose rope. âHonestly, after all the shit thatâs happened you think Iâm gonna listen to anything you say?â You step back from him, brushing the dirt off your clothes as best you can.Â
You sigh in frustration when you realize that when the Knightâs had grabbed you, youâd lost your supplies. Cooper looks up at you and scoffs, âMissing something?â You eye his bag on the ground and start to go for it. He pulls the hammer of his gun back and you glance towards him. Youâd forgotten what a quick draw he could be.
Heâs fully recovered now, eyes narrowed in on you and gun pointed right at your chest. âSee, a bullet to the chest might not kill me, but I reckon itâll do a hell of a lot of damage to you. Why donât you back up for me, sweetheart?â
You let go of his bag and slowly back away from him. He keeps his gun trained on you and stoops down, throwing his bag back over his shoulder. Your eyes dart to the hat on his head and your lips curl up when you spot the hole youâd put in it.Â
Two hundred years and heâs kept that hat nearly pristine, you take no small amount of pride in being the one to ruin it.Â
âThe Brotherhood will be swarming these woods in a few minutes. Theyâre not gonna be too happy about one of their Knightâs being dead. Come with me, I can help you out.â
You scoff, âLike Iâll ever trust you again. Youâve shot me, sold me, and left me for dead, Cooper.â
He huffs, eyes narrowing and lips curled in a sardonic grin. You can tell heâs getting pissed off. âThe choice is yours,â he tucks his gun back in his holster and turns on his heels. You watch in surprise as he stalks away from you. You had fully expected him to put up more of a fight, it almost hurts that he left so easily again.Â
Then you hear the sounds of orders being shouted behind you. Metal creaking and stomping through the underbrush and you realize he hadnât left but forced you between a rock and a hard place. You could follow him or let yourself get captured by the Brotherhood.Â
âFuck,â you mutter under your breath. You risk a glance over your shoulder and spot a rapidly approaching party of squires. You run in the direction Cooper went and find him leaning casually against a tree, a satisfied look on his face when he spots you. âDonât say a word,â you warn, shoving past him.Â
He glances at her from across the fire and finds himself feeling almost at ease for the first time in a month. Itâs been a while since heâs looked up to actually find her staring back at him. She might look like she wants to kill him, but sheâs here.Â
âYou have to admit, we make a pretty good team, darling.â
She gives him an unimpressed look, âYeah, Cooper, weâre so great at murdering people.â She looks over to the dead bodies of the raiders theyâd stolen this camp from and shakes her head. âI forgot how much death you surround yourself with.â
âI surround myself with? Might I remind you, you fired the first shot, sweetheart.â Granted, he had shoved her out of her hiding spot and given her no choice about it.Â
Her head shoots up and she glares at him, âYou made me!â She opens her mouth and he grins. He enjoys provoking her like this. Even if the last time he had sheâd shot him because of it, but itâs fun to rile her up. She always gets so pissed off, it entertains him to no end.Â
To his disappointment, she closes her mouth and shakes her head, choosing not to engage with him. He sighs and rips off a piece of jerky. âWhen did you turn into such a wet fucking blanket?â
Her eyes flare with anger, despite that, he can hear how hurt she really is. âMaybe when you sold me!â
He tilts his head and runs his tongue over his teeth, âYou ever gonna let that go? I told you it was a mistake. How was I supposed to know they were gonna breed you like a prize pig?â
She scoffs, the noise high pitched and shocked. She shakes her head and stares at him with wide eyes, âYou are unbelievable.â He shrugs and takes a swig from the flask heâd stolen off one of the raiders. Heâs not sure how they make their alcohol, or if they trade for it, but itâs fucking disgusting. He frowns at the flask and drains the rest of it before tossing it into the woods behind him.Â
She sighs and runs a hand over her face, her voice tired as she asks, âWhatâs the plan here, Cooper?âÂ
He picks at his teeth and shakes his head, âWith what?â
She leans against the log behind her and gestures at herself. âWith me. What, are you going to wait for me to pass out so you can tie me up and send me back to the compound? Iâve seen the price on my head. I know how valuable I am to everyone in the Wastelands.â
He doesnât know why what sheâs saying bothers him so much but it does. âYou really think Iâd send you back there?â
Her face is devoid of anything as she responds, âWhy wouldnât you?â
Itâs the bluntness with which she asks that, that bugs him. Like thereâs no other possibility but him betraying her. Taking advantage of her while she was vulnerable and weak and then handing her over to the people who want her dead. He wouldnât do that to her.Â
He didnât go through all this fucking trouble to find her just to lose her again. He wants to tell her as much but sheâs on her feet and grabbing her bag before he can. âLook, I appreciate the help today, but Iâm not interested in starting this partnership back up again. I think itâs better if we just part ways.â
He whips his gun out before he can think about what heâs doing. She freezes, still bent over and eyes his gun warily. âIâm afraid thatâs not an option, darling.â He canât let her leave again. And maybe this isnât the best way to go about it, but he doesnât know how else to stop her.Â
âYou gonna shoot me, Cooper?â She whispers, her own hand twitching for the revolver at her side. He stands up and grabs her wrists, ignoring the way she struggles against him. He binds her hands with his rope and he sits back down,Â
âIâm not gonna turn you in and Iâm not gonna shoot you. But youâre not getting out of here that easy, sweetheart.â
Her eyes narrow in on his, her fists clenched tightly in anger. âI killed two men with my hands bound today. Whatâs stopping me from killing you?â
He shrugs, âNothing. Thereâs nothing stopping you, just like thereâs nothing stopping me. But Iâm not killing you, am I? See,â he leans forward, âIâve fought too hard and spent too much time looking after you to just let you go now. Weâre in this together, whether you want it or not.â
Her lips split in a sneer and she throws herself down on the log. âYouâre all the fucking same. You treat me like a goddamn dog that needs to be beat into submission. Iâm not some misbehaving pet, Cooper!â Her eyes well up and her voice breaks, âYou donât get to just leash me and expect me to be okay with it.â
âIâm under no illusions that youâre happy here, sweetheart.â He runs a hand down his face and she shakes her head in disbelief.Â
âThen just let me go,â sheâs bordering on begging now and his chest squeezes the longer she stares at him with those pleading eyes of hers. Itâs not something heâs familiar with, this feeling, this longing for her to just shut the fuck up and stop making this so damn difficult for him.Â
âI canât,â he mutters, wanting her to just drop it.Â
âWhy not?â She snaps, dropping any pretenses of trying to get him to sympathize with her.
He surges forward and grabs her by the jaw. Her eyes widen in shock and he smashes their lips together, teeth clashing painfully. Thereâs nothing gentle or sweet about this kiss. Her teeth are ripping into his scarred lips until the taste of copper is spreading on his tongue. He groans, digging his fingers into her cheeks until her lips part.Â
His tongue probes against hers, the taste of his blood spreading into her mouth as well. She whimpers, the noise stirring something in him heâd forgotten about. Thereâs an old desire bubbling in him thatâs making him blind to the rest of the world. He wants her, more than he ever wants to admit.Â
Heâs wanted her for a long time before this and they both know it. How hard heâs fought against it, against moments like these. He didnât think he was still capable of this feeling, this desire for her. But itâs consuming. Sheâs ruining him, running him in circles until he thinks heâs going insane.Â
But itâs not the same gentle passion it once was. Itâs as twisted as heâs become. The desire to possess, consume, covet until sheâs his and only his to do with what he wants. His teeth dig into her, letting her blood overcome the taste of his own. He groans, his free hand grabbing her waist and yanking her closer.Â
She tastes so much sweeter than he does, he wants to rip a chunk of her off and eat her whole. Heâs so distracted he doesn't even notice her pulling out her gun until heâs shooting back from her. He lands roughly on the forest floor and groans, hands clutched over the bleeding hole in his gut. Pain radiates through his abdomen and he rolls onto his side.
He looks up at her in shock. Sheâs spitting their blood onto the ground, her bound hands wiping at her lips. âAsshole,â she mutters. She tucks her gun back in her holster and looks over at him.Â
His eyes are wide in disbelief as he struggles to sit back up. The movement causes another wave of pain and he hisses through gritted teeth, âYou shot me!â
She rolls her eyes and gives him a blank look, âYouâll live.â He limps back to his own seat and lifts his shirt, watching as the hole closes over slowly and the blood stops leaking. She watches as he heals and sighs, âUnfortunately.â He tugs it back down and sighs at the state of his shirt.Â
âMy shirt wonât.â He digs a finger into the hole and tugs on it, watching as it rips wider. Two hundred years heâs kept these clothes, she ruins them in a month. Un-fucking-believable.Â
âSew it,â she gripes, still wiping at her mouth. âI canât believe you just fucking kissed me,â she frowns and spits again, bits of crimson lingering on her lips.Â
He sighs and leans back against the tree. âFelt right in the moment.â It did, he wants to do it again. Theyâre even now, theyâve both shot each other twice. No reason for her to shoot again.Â
He wants to feel the way she shivers against him and moans into his mouth. She can be pissed all she wants but she kissed back, she canât deny that. Heâs sure if she wasnât tied up sheâd be a bit more receptive to him. Or maybe she just needs time to cool off after the whole compound incident, a month seems like a reasonable amount of time. Then again, women are so damn unreasonable.Â
She tugs a knife out of her boot and positions it between her knees. She places it between her wrists and saws at the rope until it falls free. She slides the knife back in her boot and tosses the ruined rope at him.Â
He catches it with a sigh and glances up at her. âWhy didnât you do that earlier?â
Her eyes are alight with a challenge, âI wanted to see if you would let me go yourself.â Well, clearly, he had failed her little test. âI wanted to see if there was even a possibility I could ever trust you again.â
He gives her an unimpressed look, slightly pissed off about his shirt. He never should have taught her how to shoot. If heâd known it would come back to bite him in the ass he wouldnât have. âAnd?â
She gives him a disbelieving look and shakes her head. âAnd instead of letting me go, you kissed me.â She throws her hands up in astonishment and glares at him. âWhy the hell would you think that was a good idea?â
He smirks and revels in the way she shivers at the sight. âWell, darling, Iâve always been better with actions not words.â
âYeah,â her voice is a challenge, eyes hard and jaw clenched tightly in frustration. He loves the sight of her all riled up. He loves it even more knowing heâs the one getting her like this. âWhat were you trying to tell me with that little display?â
He doesnât answer her question, not wanting to just yet. âYou liked it, didnât you?â Her mouth snaps shut and she looks away from him. He laughs, leaning back and giving her a smug look. âYou can be pissed off at me as much as you want, sweetheart,â the nickname rolls off his tongue like a taunt and she sneers at him. âBut you want me just the same as you used to.â
âDo you like hurting me? Is that why you keep me around? Youâve been alone for two hundred years, Cooper. And for the majority of them youâve harbored this hatred for me because you thought I had abandoned you just like everyone else.âÂ
Her words strike a place deep inside him that has him on edge. She knows what sheâs doing. Heâs forgotten, in his time with her, that in the same way he can get under her skin, she can do it too. She knows him just as well, sheâs just always been the better half of their duo. She never feels the need to stoop to the level he does. But sheâs doing it now and it feels like a kick in the teeth.Â
âAnd Iâm the only one thatâs actually stuck by you.â She laughs, but thereâs an underlying pain to it. She looks away from him and wipes at her cheeks and his fists clench within his gloves. âIs this your revenge? You think by torturing me you get back at everyone whose ever fucked you over. Iâm sick of it, Cooper. Iâm not gonna let you use me anymore.â
âI feel for you,â he forces the words out. He doesnât want to tell her this. He shouldnât have to tell her this. She should just stick with him, itâs what theyâd always done, itâs how it always should be. Them, together. But sheâs fighting against that, against him, so much that he doesnât have a choice.Â
Sheâs backed him into a corner he doesnât know how to get out of. âIn a way I havenât in a very long time. I canât let you go. Donât you get that, sweetheart? Weâre in this together.â
She shakes her head and he sighs. âNo,â she looks at him and just shakes her head again. âNo, you donât love me, Cooper, or you donât want me at least. Iâm not the same girl I was, thatâs what youâre after. That idea in your head, of us together, thatâs who I was. You were right, the Wastelands changes you. I canât be her for you and I donât want to be.â
He chuckles and she shrinks away from the sound in suspicion. âNewsflash, darling, Iâm not the same man. I loved you a long time ago, sweetheart, but Iâm not capable of that anymore. Not for the girl you were, anyway.â
She nodded, her arms wrapped around herself. She looked like she accepted the answer, but he could see beyond that, could see that she thought he was rejecting her. It hurt, she could hate him as much as she wanted, but that still hurt her. âGood,â she muttered, âsheâs gone.â
âWell, good.â She shrank further into herself and he grinned. âYou. You as you are now. Thatâs what I want. I donât give a shit about who we were, the only person Iâve wanted since Iâve been out here has been you. Youâre the only person Iâve met who can actually keep up with me. I donât give a shit if anyone in this godforsaken Wasteland lives or dies, but I give a shit about you. Youâre also the only one who can knock me on my ass.â
Her eyes darted to the hole in his shirt and a small grin came over her lips. âHavenât been shot a lot, have you, cowboy?â
âNo,â he chuckles again and grins at her, âI havenât. Though, I am still pretty pissed about the hole in my hat.â
Her tone loses a bit of her playfulness and she glares at him, âYou more than earned that.â
He acquiesces and holds up his hands in surrender, âMaybe.â She scoffs at that and rolls her eyes. âBut I think weâre even now.â
âBarely,â she mutters, rubbing at the bruises on her wrists. She glances up at him and sighs, a surrender in her eyes. âBut, itâs close enough now.â
He stands up and she eyes him warily as he throws himself down on the log next to her. He holds out a hand, âWhat do you say, darling, partners?â
She sighs and stares at his hand for a long time. He doesnât mind, he leaves it there, hovering between them. He knows sheâll take it. âDeny it as much as you want but this is how itâs meant to be. You can keep fighting it or save us both some time.â
She reaches forward and tentatively wraps a hand around his, she uses it to yank him forward, their faces separated by an inch. âShoot me again,â she whispers, âand I wonât miss the next time I knock you on your ass.â
âOh shit,â you jump at the kickback on the rifle and nearly drop it to the ground. Cooper laughs and reaches around you, taking it from you.Â
âMaybe I should have started you off with something with a little less kick to it.â He props the rifle against the tree and glances over to the cans youâd been shooting at. Well, youâd gotten one out of five at least.Â
In all fairness this was the first time youâd ever handled a gun, youâre sure youâre doing fine for a beginner. He sucks on his teeth and looks at your targets. The serious look on his face cracks and heâs clearly trying to fight off laughing.Â
You shove at his shoulder, smiling, âShut up. Iâve never used one of these things before.â
He picks the rifle back up and starts laughing now, âYou mean a gun?âÂ
You throw your arms in the air in defeat and slump into the patio chairs heâs dragged to the back of the cabin. âThis is pointless, anyway.â He cocks the rifle and lifts it up to aim properly. In quick succession he knocks the remaining four cans off the fence. You roll your eyes at him, âShow off.â
He smiles and takes a seat next to you. You remain silent for a while, gazing across the yard and to the towering mountains across from his cabin. You appreciate him inviting you here. When youâd told him how overwhelmed youâd been feeling with all the new publicity you hadnât expected him to drag you all the way out to his mountain home.Â
You wouldnât have accepted if youâd known it was just going to be you and him. Youâd thought he was bringing his wife and kid, too. Spending a long weekend playing house with Cooper wasnât going to do anything in getting rid of your crush. It was just getting worse the longer you were around him.
Waking up everyday and having him be the first person to greet you was going to send you into an early grave. You swear your heartâs never beat this fast around anyone else. He seems to be the only man who's ever had you feeling this head over heels.Â
âI think itâs important you learn.â
You glance over at him, surprised at how serious he sounds. Heâs still staring out at the mountains, but his gaze is distant. His mind is some place else. âWhy?â You ask, voice quiet, afraid to spoil the moment.
He finally blinks, gaze darting down to his hands and the rifle still in them. âItâs easy for people to dismiss the war nowadays. They werenât there, they didnât watch as hundreds of good men and women died for them.â You frown, sometimes itâs easy to forget that heâd been fighting on the frontlines. Heâs so good at being a socialite, you feel guilty that even you sometimes forget he was a soldier before he was Cooper Howard.Â
His voice is heavy, the tension thick around the both of you. âThey seem to think the war is over. I know itâs not, itâs just going to get worse. People can bury their heads in the sand as long as they want, but when the fighting is at their front door, what are they going to do?â
You reach out, hand covering his own. He finally looks up at you and you smile. âI appreciate it, Cooper.â
His eyes quickly look at your hand before looking back at you. âFor what?â
You shrug, moving closer to him and lacing your fingers with his. You shouldnât indulge yourself like this, but you canât help it. He seems so sad and you only want to make him feel better. You just want to take care of him, the way he takes care of you.Â
âFor always looking out for me. Youâre always there, I appreciate it. I appreciate you.â
The sad cast over his face finally breaks and he smiles at you. His hand squeezes yours once, then again and he looks back out at the mountains without saying anything else. You donât think he needs to, that either of you needs to. Sometimes you understand each other better without words.Â
Youâll always be there for one another.
You eye him warily and he holds the jerky out further. âArenât you a little curious?â He taunts, waving the jerky around in front of your face. You know he thinks you wonât take it. That heâs just screwing with you. Heâs been doing this ever since you agreed to tag along with him. Teasing you at every given opportunity.Â
You snatch it from his hands and rip a piece of it off. It kind of tastes like beef, if not a little sweeter. Thereâs also that metallic radiated tang to it. You chew it slowly, savoring the slightly caught off guard look on his face. You swallow it down, forcing your face to stay straight and not give away how disgusted you feel right now.Â
He chuckles, leaning back and looking at you with something that seems like appreciation. âI hope you know that was ass jerky.â
You gag now, glaring at him and tossing the rest of the jerky at his smug face. âYouâre such a dick.â You take a swig from your canteen and swirl the water around your mouth. It gets rid of the taste well enough but youâre never going to get over the fact that you swallowed a part of someoneâs ass.Â
He suddenly gets serious, swatting at your arm and motioning to the front of the store. You crouch beside him, watching as a raider walks out of the front doors. You donât get why they chose an old movie store for their hideout, but Cooper had it on good authority that they had a decent cache of supplies inside.Â
The last time youâd followed him into one of these things, youâd nearly died, and then heâd sold you. Youâre still not fully trusting of him. The only reason youâre with him now is because you need extra security from bounty hunters after getting booted out of Filly.Â
If he wasnât such a good shot, you would have never given him a second glance. Despite how much he insists the compound was an honest mistake, you find the trust slow to come. Youâll let him take the lead on this one, youâre not confident in him having your back if things take a turn.Â
He moves forward and you hang back, keeping watch while he slits the guardâs throat. He lowers the body quietly to the ground and you creep behind him, following him through the doors of the store.Â
This group is smaller than the last one you dealt with. Only five of them with no extra guards outside. Cooper ducks behind a dust covered shelf before they can spot either of you. You go to the other side of the store, moving slowly along the edge until you have a good shot.Â
You take out one man and Cooper manages to hit two more before they start firing off their own guns. You dart back behind the shelf, willing to let Cooper handle the last two. But one of them dives behind the shelf and grabs at you.Â
Another shot goes off and his friendâs body hits the ground while he rounds the corner with you. Heâs got an arm wrapped around your throat and the barrel of his gun pushing so hard into your skull you can feel an indent forming.Â
It wouldnât be hard to shoot this guy, you still have your gun in your hand. Cooper seems to realize that, too, from the questioning look he gives you. You drop your gun to the floor, you want to see what heâll do.Â
Maybe youâre stupid, gambling with your life like this. But you donât feel any fear, not from the guy holding you hostage at least. You just keep your eyes locked on Cooperâs. Theyâre so familiar to you, yet so distant. Like a stranger youâve known all your life.Â
He slowly rises from the floor, hands raised in the air in surrender. âAlright, letâs just see if we canât talk this out like gentlemen.â
The guy holding you jerks you roughly, gun banging painfully against your temple. You wince but remain quiet. âStay back or Iâll blow her goddamn brains out!â
Cooperâs eyes dart from your face to the guy. He huffs, frowning and pursing his lips like heâs trying to think of a way to talk himself out of this. He could leave, heâs got enough time to make it through the door before he fires at him.Â
Or he could help you.Â
Itâs the only reason you let yourself get caught. If he wants your trust heâs going to have to prove it. Cooper looks at you and a grin splits across his face. Itâs like heâs read your mind, from the knowing look on his face you think he mightâve.Â
Then again, you never really needed words to talk to each other.Â
With a speed that never fails to catch you off guard his hand darts under his jacket and he draws his gun. Heâs shooting the man before you even get a chance to brace yourself. Your body gets dragged back slightly by the dead weight but Cooper moves forward and wraps a hand around your shirt, tugging you into him.Â
Your hands shoot out, bracing yourself against his chest. He peers at you from under his hat and grins, âYou didnât really think I was gonna let you go that easy did you, darling?â Your eyes dart down to his lips, you feel like you can still taste him.Â
The timing of his kiss might not have been appropriate, but he certainly hadnât made it forgettable. Nothing about him was forgettable. As much as you wished he could be. You hated yourself for still letting yourself fall into his trap.Â
Hollywood might have once labeled you as the most seductive actress of your generation, but Cooper had you beat. He kept you coming back even when you knew you shouldnât. He had you wrapped around him and all you wanted to do was squeeze until he let you go.Â
You push off of him, ignoring how much you want to pull him closer. You move towards their pile of supplies, âLetâs see what weâve got.â
There are a few different posters set up in the old movie store that intrigue him. But the one thatâs caught his attention the most is set up directly behind her. Her back is to it, so she hasnât gotten a chance to see it yet, but itâs all he can focus on.Â
The Outlaw and The Sheriff
Their first movie together.Â
He looks at her and huffs out a laugh, she glances up at him for a moment before she begins rifling through her bag again. She looks like she walked right off the fucking poster, hat and all. Sheâs the spitting image of herself, but she seems so different.Â
Maybe itâs the eyes. The light there has changed, dimmed slightly from how it used to be. She used to seem so naive to the world, like a little lamb that just needed some guidance. Now, he wonders just how much of the world sheâd seen before he found her. If maybe she had never been as innocent to itâs cruelties as heâd once assumed.Â
She stepped into this new role of hers just as quickly as he had. You didnât just change that quickly without knowing already just how awful people could be.Â
âSweetheart,â she looks up and he points behind her. She turns around and looks up to the poster.
She scoffs, moving to stand beside him, âI always hated how I looked in that.â
He glances over at her and shakes his head, âProbably shouldnât show you a mirror anytime soon, then.â Her hands reach up to fiddle with the brim of her hat and she smiles, a real smile for once.Â
âNo, I suppose not.â Her hands trace over her lips, he glances back at the poster. At that old signature of hers. She always had to have those red lips. âItâs so different,â she whispers and he knows she didnât mean for him to hear. Her eyes glisten and he frowns.Â
He shouldnât have shown her. Itâs not like he enjoyed seeing those fucking Vault-Boy posters, he sure as hell hated seeing clips of himself. Why would she enjoy seeing who she used to be? Who they used to be?
Things used to be so simple. He loved her, she loved him. Now heâd fucked up so much he wasnât sure she could ever look at him the way she used to. He didnât want who she was before, he couldnât handle that. This new her, well, he didnât give her near enough credit.Â
But he wouldnât hate seeing someone look at him like that again. Endless adoration and unflinching loyalty. He knew he would follow her anywhere, heâd realized that a while ago. He didnât have anything in the Wastelands, nothing but hate and spite to keep him going all this time.
Now, he had her. He just needed her to realize that she had him just the same. She had him wrapped around her and he hated it and loved it at the same time. Hated her and loved her for it all the same.Â
He tugs his glove off before he reaches for her. He cups her cheek, thumb tracing over her lips before she turns towards him. His eyes meet hers and he smiles slightly at the familiarity and mystery to them. So much of her he recognizes and then there are these new parts heâs yet to discover.Â
He wants to discover all of her. Learn everything he can about her all over again, feed his desire to consume her entirely.Â
She pulls him in this time, her lips chapped and cracked. Her arms wind around his neck, yanking him closer and he tugs at her. She tastes as sweet as he remembers and it only makes him crave more. More of her, more of anything sheâll let him have.Â
She pulls back from him, pressing her hand against his chest, slowly backing him against the wall. He lets her ease him to the floor and she throws a leg over his lap. She settles herself above him, both her hands tightly grasping his neck, crushing their bodies together, eyes gazing intently into his own. He doesnât know what sheâs looking for in him but she seems to find it when she leans in once more.Â
She isnât giving him a chance at control, sheâs got a leash on him, pulling back anytime he tries to lead. He relents, following her as she slowly explores him.Â
Heâs not sure how long this peace between them will last before one of them inevitably fucks up. But theyâre stuck together now. It doesnât matter what happens, heâs not letting her get away from him again.Â
Sheâs his, always has been, always will be. Itâs been that way since before the fallout. Heâs led her, guided her.
He had loved her as a different man. History always seems to repeat itself with them. As twisted as the world is, as twisted as theyâve become, they always seem to drift back together. No matter how much the both of them fight against it.Â
Heâs giving in now, giving into her.Â
end. â I do not own the characters or the game/show Fallout, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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Guilty as Sin? â Chapter Five
pairing: professor!javier peña x f!reader
rating: series is 18+ only, minors DNI, professor/student dynamic, oral (fem!rec), mutual masturbation, lots of ogling, romantic Javi will be the death of me, dirty talk, little bit of angst thrown in, reader's never experienced oral, think that's it for now
word count: 4k
series masterlist
You didnât attend Dr. Peñaâs office hours that day, too exhausted by your crumbling social life to deal with whatever it was he wanted to talk about with you in private. Instead, you spent the night grocery shopping, decorating your new place, and getting a jump start on Dr. Armanâs research paper due in a few weeks.Â
By the time you were in bed and began to mindlessly scroll on your phone, it was nearing midnight. As you scrolled through pinterest finding sad quote after sad quote to make your sadness feel a little less isolating, an email notification lit up your screen. You clicked on it, finding a message from Dr. Peña.
Please set up an appointment with me to discuss your grade.Â
Dr. Javier Peña
555-268-8521
You narrowed your brows at the messageâwhat was he talking about? You quickly opened the online portal to check your grade, finding it in near-perfect standing. Flipping back to the email, you read it over again before locking eyes on his phone number, bolded in bright red. Chuckling at his use of coded messaging, you copied the number and added it to your contacts as Javier just in case someone decided to snoop around.Â
Biting your lip, you let your fingers hover over your keyboard, unsure of what to say, or if he even wanted you to message him. But he had to, right? No one highlighted shit in red if they didnât mean to draw attention.Â
You settled on something simple, something that couldnât possibly be misconstrued if an outside party were to see it.Â
You: Hey, itâsâŠ
You: You emailed about setting up an appointment?
You waited what felt like a lifetime, choosing to spend those torturous minutes anxiously scrolling through your feed until your phone buzzed with an alert.Â
Javier: So formal.Â
You rolled your eyes.Â
Javier: Why didnât you show up today?
You: Too tired.
Javier: You still tired?Â
You bit your lip as his words sent a thrilling ache between your thighs.Â
You: Depends. Â
Javier responded only with an address, one that looked to be attached to an apartment complex in the nice part of town. With your heart racing with excitement and head screaming with caution, you decided that youâd earned a bit of recklessness. Youâd done everything you needed to do today, so why not do something you wanted to do?
You thanked the skies for convincing you to pamper yourself earlier with an everything shower as you slipped into a much less comfy pair of underwear, choosing to keep your hoodie and leggings on rather than dressing to impress. After all, there was a good chance your hopes would come crashing down if he truly only meant to talk.Â
The drive to his place was spent singing along to your favorite album, hoping to drown out the alarm sounds in your head that seemed to scream, idiot!
You pulled into the gated complex, punching in the code heâd sent to you before making your way through the gates. You parked your beat up car in a visitor spot, headlights illuminating a man smoking a cigarette in that black leather jacket you could still feel wrapped around your shoulders. Javier.Â
He watched you as you climbed out of the car, hands trembling with nerves.Â
âHey,â you breathed, giving him a nervous smile. Javierâs smile was a lot more confident, causing a dimple to form in his left cheek.Â
âHey,â he replied, ashing out the cigarette on the trash can beside him before approaching you. âYou look cozy. Hope I didnât wake you.â
âShould I take that as an insult?â you joked.Â
âNo,â he assured, his smile softening to something so affectionate it made your heart race. âI like you like this.â
You flushed, dropping your eyes to the pavement beneath your feet. Javier surprised you by lifting his hand to your chin, gently guiding your eyes back to his. âThis isnât a good idea,â he husked, eyes bouncing back and forth between yours. âBut fuck me, I canât stop thinking about you.âÂ
Your lips parted as he stepped closer, his hand shifting to cradle your cheek, his thumb stroking across your skin.Â
âBut first, I wanted to introduce you to someone,â he said, letting his hand fall to his side. Tipping his head in the direction of the lobby, he urged you to follow him.Â
Who the fuck did he possibly want to introduce you to? His secret family?
Javier opened the door with a smug look, furthering your confusion until the old womanâwho looked around the age of seventyâbehind the front desk popped up with a smile.Â
âI didnât see you sneak out, Javi,â she smiled, batting her eyes at him. âYou got a secret exit I donât know about, honey?â
âIt wouldnât be a secret if I told you, Jeannie, now would it be?â he crooned, turning to you. âThis was the friend of mine I wanted to introduce you to. Sheâs run the complex for how long now, Jeannie?â
âThirty years,â she replied, both pride and exhaustion in her tone. âThirty years and no goddamn retirement in sight.â
You gaped at Javier, his brow raising and smirk spreading into a full on dimpled-grin. Quickly turning to Jeannie, you chuckled and shook your head at yourself.Â
âItâs nice to meet you, Jeannie,â you smiled, giving her your name.Â
âYou too, sweetie,â she said. âYâall have a good night. Donât do anything I wouldnât do.â
âThatâs not saying much, Jeannie,â Javier teased, resting his hand on your back as he guided you to the elevator.Â
You kept quiet until you were inside the privacy of those four walls. âSo you finally figured it out.â
âWell, I figured it out when you slammed my car door on me,â he chuckled, standing close enough for you to smell his cologne. You stepped closer to that scent of warmth and comfort, brushing your arm against his. âThought Iâd clear the air this way since you stood me up earlier.â
âI didnât stand you up,â you laughed. âI justâŠI donât know. Needed some time away from everything.â
He hummed his response, waiting for the bell to chime, signaling your arrival to the third floor, before leading you out and down the hall to his apartment. As he put his key in the lock, he turned to you with a half-smile. âYou sure you want this?â
âDepends on what this is,â you replied. Javier smiled, shaking his head before opening the door to his place. He let you walk in ahead of him, the door shutting and locking behind him.Â
âThis isâŠI donât know,â he sighed, though it sounded less like frustration but more along the lines of hesitant acceptance. âMe throwing caution to the wind, I guess.â
âJust you?â you asked, turning away from the black and brown abstract painting on the wall of his living room to look at him over your shoulder. He looked at you with such unabashed desire as he carefully stepped into your space until his chest was nearly pressed against your back.Â
âUs, then,â he whispered, slowly dragging his fingertips up the length of your arm, causing goosebumps to form on your skin. Your breath hitched as he leaned in to brush his lips against the shell of your ear. âDo you know how much space in my mind youâve taken up? Without doing anything more than existing.âÂ
You turned to face him, your hands settling on his chest before sliding up to the nape of his neck. Javierâs brow furrowed as he watched you study his features, committing each one to memory in case tonight was all youâd ever have with him. âOnly seems fair that Iâm on your mind as much as youâre on mine.â
Javier groaned softly, his hands finding your hips as he walked you backwards, sandwiching you between his body and the back of his sectional.Â
âCan I kiss you?â he asked, licking his lips as his eyes fell to yours. âThese fucking lips thatâve been calling my name since the first time I saw you.â
You let out a soft breath, nodding your head quickly, as if heâd change his mind if you didnât reply quick enough. Javier smiled, something fleeting and rooted in affection before crashing his lips against yours. You moaned at the taste of cinnamon blended with a hint of the cigarette heâd been smoking when you pulled into the parking lot.Â
What started out as cautious quickly turned into something needy, his hands gripping your hips to pull you closer to his frame. You gasped into his mouth as he pressed his generous arousal against you, your center aching to feel him without the layers between you.Â
âJavi,â you panted out the nickname, relishing in the groan it elicited. Javier was quick to pull away, his dark eyes lust blown and wild as he lifted a hand to your face.Â
âWhat do you want, cariño?â he rasped, smoothing his thumb over your bottom lip as though to worship it. âHm?â
It took you a few seconds to register what heâd said, your mind preoccupied with fantasy after fantasy that finally felt possible.Â
âYou,â you replied, soft and breathy. âYour lips, your tongue, your fingers, yourâŠâ
âMy what?â he coaxed, a smirk tugging at his lips.Â
Lowering your hand down his chest and stomach, you let your palm rest against his arousal, giving him a gentle squeeze that made him curse. âThis. This is what I want.âÂ
âFuck me,â he swore, taking a step away from you before entering a pace. He raked his hand across his face as he seemed to mull things over, meanwhile you were left standing there, panting like an idiot while replaying the interaction in your head.Â
Was it your touch that spooked him? Oh god, did he not want to be touched? Perhaps you were no better than Derrick, so blinded by desire and longing that you acted before asking.Â
âJavi, Iââ
âIf we do this,â he started, stilling his pacing to give you a stern look. âItâs a one time thing. You and I will go about our lives as normal. You can continue to TA for me if you want, or I can try to transfer you to another professor.â
âI donât want that,â you blurted, too lost in lust to think clearly. âOne time. Get it out of our systems.â
Javier chuckled, as if he had foresight into how this all played out. He couldâve seen a happy ending, the two of you reminiscing on this very moment, laughing at the idiots you once were to ever think for a minute it would only be a one time thing. Or, more realistically, he imagined the two of you awkwardly dealing with the existence of the other with forced greetings and a hidden longing that felt more like a haunting.Â
Whatever scene he saw, it didnât prevent him from sauntering back to you, from kissing you like a sailor greeting his wife after being away at sea for years, from guiding you into his bedroom, and you didnât dare break the magic of the moment by asking.
Javier backed you against the wall, his thigh slotting between yours. His lips traveled the line of your neck, teeth grazing across your racing pulse only to soothe over the tender flesh with his tongue.Â
âIf you knew the things Iâve imaginedâŠâ His words trailed off into a dark chuckle as his hands slid up your side to cup your breast through your shirt. He groaned at the lack of a bra, his hips pressing into yours as he swiped his thumb across your peaked nipple. âYou proud that youâve broken a good, honorable man? That the sight of you in those fucking skirts made me insane enough to consider fucking you right on my desk?â
âSort of,â you admitted, earning a genuine laugh. You smiled at him as he pulled back, lifting his hand to hold your face. âWhy are you looking at me like that?â
The way he looked at you almost made your heart stop. Youâd never been looked at like that before, with respect, affection, and genuine interest. It had only been lust before this, or worse, pity. The girl who stayed loyal, who allowed a man to walk all over her for years on end.Â
âJust admiring,â he shrugged, giving you a casual purse of his lips. âClever, brave, resilient, and so fucking beautiful it hurts.â
You couldnât take hearing anything that sincere from him, not when it was all you ever wanted to hear, not when you knew it would all be over tomorrow. You tugged him back in for a kiss, hastily shedding his jacket in the process. Javier moaned into your mouth, pressing you against the wall with one arm wrapped around your waist and the other hoisting your thigh over his hip.Â
You moved on to the buttons of his shirt as he mouthed his way down your neck to your chest, his greedy hands palming every soft bit of flesh he could find.Â
âTake this off,â you demanded, your fingers too shaky to unfasten the buttons. Javier pulled away from you to do just that, his chin nudging at you as if to say, you too. You peeled off your hoodie, earning a groan from Javier as he unbuckled his belt, his eyes eating up the sight of your bare breasts. âFuck me, youâd turn Christ himself into a sinner.â
You ignored the butterflies his praises stirred in your belly as you peeled off your leggings and underwear in one fluid motion, leaving you completely bareâand for once in your life, confidentâin front of him. Javier abandoned undoing the button of his jeans in favor for coming back to you, both hands cradling your face as he backed you against the wall again.Â
âOne night,â he muttered, seemingly to himself. âWeâll fucking see.â
You slid your hand down his stomach to the button of his jeans, undoing it with only a little bit of trouble. Javierâs lips never left yours as you tugged the zipper down before slipping your hand inside. You both moaned at the feeling of your hand meeting his bare flesh, swallowing down the sounds of mutual pleasure.Â
God, he was big. Bigger than anyone youâd ever been with before.Â
âYouâre going to ruin me for all men,â you purred into the air as he focused his lips, teeth, and tongue on your pulse again, your hand slowly pumping his shaft as best as you could given the way his body was pressing you into the wall.Â
âIâve always been an overachiever,â he replied, his smirk growing against your skin as he placed one last soft kiss against your pulse before kneeling down in front of you. You kept your eyes locked on his as he guided your calf to rest over his shoulder, his lips pressing their way up the inside of your leg.Â
This was better than your favorite fantasy. It hadnât managed to get the brown of his eyes, the rough warmth of his hands, the sinful scrape of his mustache across your soft skin right. In fact, now that you were witness to the real thing, the fantasy seemed like nothing more than a cheap knock-off.
âJavi,â you cautioned, remembering one critical detail about the fantasy. The fact that youâd never actually had this done to you before. All the sex and sin youâd gotten up to in your life, but never this. Selfish fucking men.Â
âWhat,â he hummed lazily against your skin, now kissing your inner thigh.Â
âYou donât have to,â you replied, nothing more than a whisper. Javier shook his head at you, gently nipping at your sensitive flesh.Â
âDonât have to, but fuck me, I want to,â he rasped, lathing his tongue over where heâd just given you a lovebite. You gently raked your hand through his hair, bringing his eyes away from your aching center and back to yours.Â
âIâve had this exact fantasy since the first day of class,â you admitted, biting your lip. âItâs been my favorite thing to think about when I touch myself.â
Javier groaned, desperate and wrecked.Â
âCan you make it as good as my fantasy?â you asked, your voice a seductive purr.Â
There was something about thisâJavier on his knees, practically begging to taste youâthat felt so much more empowering than youâd ever felt before with a sexual partner. How youâd ever go back to more age appropriate men, you werenât sure.Â
âYouâreâŠâ He cut himself off, shaking his head before leaning closer to where you practically dripped with need. âIâll give you something real to fantasize about when you touch yourself, cariño.â
You smiled at the promise, only for it to fall as your jaw went slack at the feeling of Javierâs tongue licking a broad stripe up your seam. You furrowed your brows as you looked down to watch him, his eyes closed as he tugged you closer to his mouth. His tongue swirled around your bud, over and over, making you pulse with each passing swirl. You gripped onto his hair to keep him there, guiding him as his tongue dipped lower to your entrance to drink up your arousal with a sinful groan.Â
âSo fucking sweet,â he praised, pulling back to marvel at your swollen pussy with a look of awe. âI need you on the bed.âÂ
You nodded, springing into action and practically leaping into his king-sized mattress. You crawled back on your elbows until you reached the pillows, watching as Javier finally kicked off his jeans, finally taking in the full sight of his cock. You actually began to salivate at the sight of him, long and thick and angry with need.Â
He stood at the edge of the bed, eyes locked on you as he stroked himself with his fist. You slipped your hand down to your clit, rubbing it in time with his lazy strokes, and quickly realized you could get off from this alone.Â
âThatâs it,â he husked. âShow me how you touch yourself when you think of me.â
You moaned, slipping your fingers lower to curl inside yourself. There was something so holy about this sinful act. The way he watched you, the worship and reverence in his stare as you got off to the sight of him getting off to the sight of you. All of it was holy, and all of it was forbidden.Â
âGood fucking girl,â he praised, the words causing you to pulse around your fingers.Â
Javier seemed to have gotten his fill of watching as he climbed onto the bed, making himself at home between your thighs. You slipped your fingers out and moved to law them to the side, but he stopped you, bringing them to his lips to suck them clean while you watched him with a slack jaw.Â
âFuck,â you moaned, brows pinching together. Javier kissed the inside of your palm before setting it down against his cool sheets.Â
âIs this how you imagined it?â he asked, kissing your inner thigh.Â
âMmhm,â you hummed, combing back the waves that had fallen across his forehead. Javier keened under your touch as he inched his way back to your center. Locking his eyes with yours, you watched him turn your fantasies into realityâthose brown eyes finally meeting yours just as youâd imagined.Â
âYou taste so good,â he praised, bringing two fingers up to stroke up and down your seam before dipping into your entrance. He met your eyes in a silent confirmation of consent. You nodded eagerly, biting your lip as you tried to steady your breathing.Â
Javier let out a soft sigh as he slipped his fingers inside of you, curling them up to press against the spot no man had ever been able to locate before. You moaned, your head falling back against his pillows as he paired his tongue with the perfectly timed thrust of his fingers.Â
âFuck,â you whined, holding him close as he started to suck on your swollen bud, his fingers curling in and out with almost embarrassing ease as you neared your endâthe first one youâd ever shared with a sexual partner. âJavi, fuck. Youâre gonna make me come.â
He moaned, the sound vibrating against you as he doubled down in his efforts. Your thighs shook, your face crumpled in ecstasy as the thread of tension inside you finally snapped. Javier kept your thighs spread as they threatened to close around his head, his tongue turning gentle as he coaxed you back to earth.Â
âThatâs the first time someoneâs ever made me come,â you panted, guiding him up for a dizzying kiss that tasted of your arousal. Javierâs hands gripped at your hip, guiding your leg to wrap around his waist.Â
âFucking idiots,â he sighed, pressing a kiss over your racing heartbeat. âTheir loss.â
You nodded in agreement, your hand cradling the sharp line of his jaw as he focused his mouth on your breast. âIâdâŠbe down for another.â
He laughed, resting his head on your chest.Â
âAs much as I want to, I think maybe it would be best if we justâŠdidnât,â he said, lifting his head to look into your eyes. You tried not to pout, to demand that he take as much as he just gave, but all you could do was give him a soft nod. âI want to, believe me. But it would justââ
âMake things more complicated,â you guessed, unable to look him in the eye. âI know.â
He tutted at you, turning your chin so that you were forced to face him. âI loved tonight, loved doing this with you. Under any other circumstance, Iâd be happy to keep you in this bed for days, butââ
âItâs okay,â you managed, giving him a sad smile. âIâm glad we had this, at least.â
He nodded, resting his head against your chest again.
âI should go,â you said, the lump in your throat roughening the sound of your voice.Â
âYou donât have to,â he replied, placing a tender kiss to your chest.Â
âI know, butâŠitâs torture staying,â you confessed, trying your best not to cry. âLike flaunting food in front of someone starving.â
Javier sat back on his knees, smoothing his palms up and down your still-spread thighs. âIâm notâŠtrying to torture you.â
âI know,â you whispered. âStill, itâsâŠâ
âYeah,â he agreed on the unspoken. âIt is.â
You let out a huff of a chuckle, hoping it would mask the ache in your chest threatening to consume you. âGuess Iâll see you in class, then?â
âFront and center, I hope,â he smiled, backing off the bed to give you space to get up and get dressed. âAnd no skirts, for Christâs sake.â
âMm, suddenly skirts are all I own,â you joked, shooting him a more genuine smile from over your shoulder as you slipped into your leggings.Â
âCruel woman,â he chided playfully, watching you from his seat at the foot of the bed. âCruel, beautiful woman.â
After Javier led you out of the building through the back exit to avoid Jeannie, you bid him an awkward farewell, holding in your tears until you were in your car. You spent the commute from his place to yours sobbing over a man you could never have, one that was everything you ever wanted. You made a pit stop at a gas station to buy some comfort snacks and an ice-ee in hopes of soothing the ache in your chest, but the truth was there was no escaping the impact of Javier Peña on your soft, longing heart.Â
You only hoped the recovery would be quick, the wound of losing him before you ever had him fading into an almost unnoticeable scar on your heart.Â
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Dark Horse- A Mother
Part 2
Reader is a single mother, working double shifts at a restaurant. Father of the child starts to become a problem while reader is at work and Price offers a solution. Slight age gap between reader around 25 and Price around 35.
How ironic it was to be back at home emptying out the lunchbox that had started it all. Feeling petty that you were angry like it had forgotten its own self on the counter. Taking out the sandwich you had made the night prior and throwing it away. Turkey, cheese, and miracle whip. Abel's favorite. Starting all over, your mind trying to find work as a distraction from the entire dayâs events. Lunchbox packed and, in the fridge, note on the door so not to forget it in the start of the chain tomorrow. Work finished.
And then the fleeting thought made its way back to you. Engaged. You were engaged. Something you thought would never happen because you have never had time to consider it, let alone dating.
John had passed you his phone number scribbled on a piece of paper. How very old school of him, you thought to yourself accepting it before placing it in your apron pocket mixed in with your tips. It was now back in your fingertips, passing it around to look at it closer. The man had handwriting of a serial killer... Could you be marrying a serial killer?
Shaking your head, riding yourself of such a thought. No, John was not a serial killer.... least not the kind that stalked its prey and killed the next victim- you told yourself, typing what you thought was the phone number into your phone Never really knowing much about him, you could tell he was at least military, but what exactly?
John? the text you sent to the number hoping you had read it right.
Yes? was the single worded answer. Sighing with relief, you were glad it was him, not ready to keep taking the chance of a random stranger.
I could barely read your writing.
Been told it's bad before. And then a time or two after that. He responded back and you can hear the slight chuckle in his voice.
Get the boy in bed? He messaged right after.
Yes, he's sleeping now. Just got his lunch packed.
Good, you should be in bed too. Oh my god, you thought to yourself now worried he was thinking of you in bed. Glancing at the time, after your nightly routine was done you saw the clock on the wall read almost 11:30. He was probably just being practical.
Heading there now, thank you.
For what?
Everything.
Get some sleep, I'll see you tomorrow afternoon.
Yeah, like you were going to sleep after everything that had happened today. Giving it an attempt, you crawl under the covers after starting the washer to try to get a jump start of the home work load. Closing your eyes, making the room dark, you pretended if anything to get sleep.
***************************
"Abel!" You shouted, pulling the clothes out of the dryer you had moved during your insomnia caused by your worry battle. "Time to get a move on." Grabbing a warm towel, you hung it on the hook outside of the shower.
"We're going to be late." You said still trying to usher him. Watching his little hand slip out past the shower curtain, feeling for the warm towel.
"Thanks momma," he said muffled through the towel.
It wasn't shortly after he found you fully clothed with his bookbag and the condemned lunchbox in your hand by the front door. Slipping on his shoes he took the bag, slipping it over his shoulders, standing up shouting he was ready.
Locking the door behind you, he sprinted down to the sidewalk ready for you. Grin beaming almost as bright as the morning sun.
"Will that man come see you again today?" he asked as you walked next to him.
Struggling to find the courage to answer him, you realized he was paying more attention than you had thought. "He is."
"Will he be there when I get there?"
"Probably, and I think we will be seeing more of him overall."
"Why?"
"Well... him and I are going to get married."
"Married!? Like a mom and a dad together?"
"Yes, but he is not your dad. Your dad will always be your dad."
Abel looked down kicking a rock.
"I wish he was better to you, momma." And your heart fractured at the statement. Your hand found his chin, tilting it up so he looks at you.
"I wish he was too," your voice quietly fighting the tears that stung your eyes, "but take it as a lesson Abel. If you ever find love, be sure to treat them better then what you have been shown."
Abel gave a single nod, understanding the weight of your statement. He has always been a kid that is easy to talk to.
Going your separate ways, he gave your middle a squeeze, head buried in your abdomen before saying goodbye. Leaving you alone to finish your walk on your way to work.
***************************
Coffee pots are already brewing, turning on the grill top and fryer for your cook. You were ready to roll.
Morning shift went quick, the restaurant running like a well-oiled machine from your efforts. No phone calls from the school today, further easing your confidence that everything was going to be alright. Abel with his dad like the custody agreement states while you're at work. That feeling of confidence quickly left you though, as Abel's homeroom teacher walked in. Mrs. Karim. Eyes locking with her, you meant her almost at the front door.
"Everything ok?" You asked familiar enough with her to know she wouldn't have been here for nothing.
"Relax," she said with a warm laugh. "Not everything that happens has to be bad." She teased placing a hand on your shoulder making you take a deep breath in. "I came to bring you something," she said handing you a student made project. It was a heart with 2 paper doors that you could open.
"We made these for Mother's Day, and I really wanted you to see what your son wrote."
Each individual line was something Abel had written about you. A scribble that you could decipher with ease, seeing it change and grow as he got older.
I love my mother because:
She makes sure I have food every day.
She makes sure I have a warm towel after every shower.
She walks me to school every morning.
She hugs and tells me she loves me every day.
She tucks me into bed every night.
Instantly the tears are hot on your face and grinning like the Cheshire cat. How much you loved that boy.
"Thank you," you said wiping your tears off with your hand.
"Figured you needed it," she said patting your shoulder again letting on she knew more then what you thought, but not pestering further. "You're a good mom." Making you nod as she left, continuing about her time off.
Turning around, you saw Kate standing leaning against the counter.
"Can we get one day in without you crying?" she teased.
"Fuck off," you chortled. Stepping past her, you saw John sitting at the said counter. He must of snuck in.
"You, ok?" he asked, hands wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee.
"Yeah," you said sliding the heart to him to look at. "Look, his handwriting looks like yours." You teased implying he had the handwriting of an 8-year-old.
Taking it in his hands he opened the doors of the heart, smiling as he read it too. "Maybe you could give me lessons then." Eyes drifting up to yours as your heartbeat faster, rattling your ribs. They look so blue even through his long brown lashes. A simple âha-haâ left your mouth unable to find anything else back to say to flirt with him.
"Well, hopefully I can give you something else that makes your day," he said sliding a little black box towards you on the counter. You felt almost dirty accepting it, knowing what was on the inside but still did it anyway. Opening it and looking down, before handing it back to John, unsure of where to go from there.
It was a simple pearl on a gold band. "Was my mother's." He said taking it out of the box, hand extended out for yours. Handing him your left hand, you let him slip it on the ring finger. "Figure if this happening, will make it official." Rendered speechless, you searched to find anything to say.
"What was she like?"
"My mother?"
"Yeah."
"A good mother. Lot like you." He said his answer was plain and simple. His thumb stroking over the back of your hand, back and forth over the ring.
It was like you were made of butterflies and birds. The fluttering beneath your skin, in your chest and stomach, rising and lowering. Were you floating right now? Breaking eye contact, you looked down at your feet grounding yourself. Kate is coming up and giving you a light shoulder check.
"Hate to interrupt your love birdâs moment, but the dinner rush is starting."
"Right," you said fingers squeezing John's hand before getting started. Placing an order for his regular, planning to at least feed him for everything he has done, you got to work taking your tables.
As skilled as you were, you had fumbled a few orders. Forgetting things, not filling drinks right away. But the heavy ring on your finger throws off your game. You would stare at it next to the pen and pad as you would take the order. As simple as it was, it was so beautiful. The glimmer catching your eye every now and then as if you were a bird. Something unfamiliar in the familiar. The lack of tips showed for it. Yes, you were floating because you were riding cloud 9.
Streetlights were starting to come on outside, signaling it was now getting close to closing time. Restaurant now empty, John the only "customer" inside. The door jingling open caught your attention as you saw Abel slip in, heading straight for you. Kneeling you hugged him squeezing him tighter than he was you making him laugh.
"What the fuck is that??" Your ex's voice fills your ears covering the laughter. Glancing up you were shocked to see him in your place of work. Generally, he steered clear, letting you at least have home and work to yourself. But after yesterday he apparently wanted to keep whatever his problem was going.
"What are you talking about?" You asked standing up, slipping Abel behind you, and pushing him lightly to the counter. Thankfully Kate was already waiting for him, hands outstretched with fingers waggling to get him away from verbal altercation.
"On your finger." He said pointing before reaching and snatching for your left hand. Pulling it away from him, you cradled it to your chest. The ring pressed as far inwardly as you could get it.
"Hands off her," John said arm in front of you slowly pushing you behind him like you had just done with Abel. Your right hand rested on his waist, letting him know you were still there with him.
"You can't be serious," your ex said over John's shoulder trying to talk to you.
"The way you treat her ends now. You will no longer be speaking to my soon-to-be wife that way. You'll get your time in court." John said taking a step closer, almost chest to chest.
The door jingled again, and you noticed the three that followed John around standing behind your ex. They crowded him, keeping the situation under control, but willing to turn violent if the time came.
"Why don' ya step outside mate, and have a littl' chat with us?" The biggest one wearing all black said, gripping your ex's shoulder and pulling him out the door.
John followed making you call out to him, "John," your voice warned. "He's still the father to my child."
"Not gonnaâ hurt him love, just gonnaâ lay down some rules," he said pushing the door open with his back, following his other war dogs outside. He rounded the corner out of your sight.
"You have my heart," Abel said pulling his classroom project to him, breaking you out of your thoughts.
"I always got your heart," you said leaning down kissing his head. "Start your homework while I clean and close up," you said roughing up his hair.
"Ugh...." he groaned, but doing as you said opening his bookbag.
After what felt like an eternity, you watched John come back in the other 3 following in behind him and sitting down at the counter.
"Can I feed them at least?" You asked referring to what they had just done.
"You don' feed the strays," he teased looking down the counter at them. "They ain't staying long anyways. Just enough to lock up and me to walk you home."
"You're walking me home?"
" 'Course I am, my ring your wearing wife to be." he bantered back to you making you go red. Using the excuse to have to go back into the kitchen and fill the mop bucket to hide it. Was useless, hearing the others snicker at your embarrassment.
Previous
***************************
Taglist:
@cutiecusp
@lhhlver
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i want you.
pairing: johnnie guilbert x reader
summary: you and johnnie have been mutually pining for each other for months, and it finally comes to fruition at a party.
cw: angst, fluff, language, alcohol
word count: 2.0k + edited
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author note: so unfortunately i accidentally deleted this request from my inbox, but i have a screenshot of it and will attach it below! i really hope the person who sent the request sees this, so if you're the requester pls comment or message me to let me know you saw it! i hope you all enjoy <3
---
You check yourself out in the standing mirror in the corner of your bedroom. Make up fresh, hair done, sporting your favorite black mini skirt and tank top. A little booby, you think. But thatâs okay. Youâre going to a party tonight, and Johnnieâs picking you up. You wanted to look your best.Â
You hear your phone ding and you reach down to check it. A message from Johnnie lights up your screen:
J: iâll be there in five :)
You exhale deeply. Although you and Johnnie had been close friends for months, this was the first time he was driving you to a party. Youâd met at a party and clicked instantly. If there was one person in the world you felt the most comfortable opening up to, it was him. You had known from the moment you met him that you were going to end up falling for him. But youâd also known that Johnnie hadnât been in a relationship in years, and he didnât seem like a person to fall in love at first sight. So instead of allowing yourself to be hurt, you decided to try to snuff out your feelings and settle for friendship. Because a friendship with Johnnie was better than nothing. And you couldnât imagine your life without Johnnie in it. Your phone dings again:
J: here!
You take one more deep breath in and walk outside your apartment building to meet Johnnie at his car.Â
âHey!â You wave through the rolled-down passenger side window, before opening the door and sliding in next to him.Â
âWow,â Johnnie gasps. âYou lookâŠâ
He trails off, turning to stare straight ahead.Â
âWhat? Do I look weird?â You ask, so embarrassed youâre ready to run back inside and change if thatâs what he wants.Â
âNo! You look⊠beautiful.â Johnnie struggles to form his sentence and continues staring at the dashboard. His cheeks take a rosy hue.Â
âOh. Thanks,â you respond, looking at your shoes.Â
He clears his throat, âSo⊠um⊠you ready to go?âÂ
âYeah! Um⊠whoâs party did you say this was again?â
âOh itâs Jake and Taraâs. Itâs at our house,â Johnnie smiles toward you.
âJohnnieâŠâ you canât help but let out a laugh, âWhy would you come all the way here to pick me up if itâs at your house??âÂ
âBecause, y/n, I happen to enjoy spending time with you. I never thought I was going to have to defend myself for wanting to hang out with one of my best friends, but I guess stranger things happen every day.â he says with a tone of faux sarcasm, adding a loud, dramatic sigh at the end for good measure.Â
âOh for fucks sake, Johnnie!â You laugh and swat him on the arm, and he blushes again as he grabs your hand and laughs with you.
You glance down at your hands, your fingers still interlocked. He notices your eyes shift and quickly lets go, clearing his throat again as he grips the steering wheel, âI guess we should go⊠canât leave Jake waiting for too long, he gets feisty.â He smirks at you, and you jokingly roll your eyes. In all the time youâd been friends with Johnnie, you'd gotten to witness his and Jakeâs dynamic firsthand. It was a sight to behold. If you didnât believe in platonic soulmates before, you definitely did after meeting the two of them.Â
âYes, John. Letâs go.â You had recently made a habit of calling Johnnie âJohnâ. He hated it. Thatâs why you did it. Playful banter was your favorite form of flirting, and you didnât want to get your hopes up, but you could swear the nickname made him flustered.Â
âOh God not this again,â Johnnie complains.
âYouâre never escaping the John nickname! You will always be John to me! Muahahaha!!â You laugh evilly and poke his cheek as he pulls out of your driveway. His cheeks go red and he laughs, he could never truly be mad at you. âI hate you,â he says.
âYou love me,â you smirk and bat your eyelashes at him.Â
He glances at you out of his peripheral vision and smiles, âI know.âÂ
Ten minutes later you arrive at Jake and Johnnieâs house. The ride hadnât been nearly as awkward as youâd anticipated. In fact, it hadnât been awkward at all. You donât know why you had been so worriedâ you were friends. You cared about each other, and liked spending time with each other. You could always make conversation, whether it be about your days, existential dread, hell, you could even have a conversation about your favorite colors. As long as you were together, you both had fun.Â
It was already 11 when you arrived, and you hadnât had anything to drink yet. So when you got into the house with Johnnie, you beelined it toward the alcohol covered island in the middle of the kitchen. Johnnie steps behind the opposite side of the countertop, âWhat can I get for you tonight, maâam?âÂ
âOh, I didnât know you were the bartender for the party tonight?!â You joke.
âIâm not the bartender for the party, just for you,â he winks, and you feel your cheeks get hot. Was he flirting with you?Â
âWell in that case⊠surprise me,â you lean on your elbows and place your head in your palms, giving him the big, toothy grin you knew he couldnât deny.Â
âYou always know how to get what you want from me, donât you?â He asks, before pouring you up a dirty Shirley Temple, your favorite. âOne Dirty Shirley, extra strong, just the way you like it.âÂ
âYou know me so well,â you smile, taking the drink from him and helping yourself to a long gulp. He crosses his fingers and squeezes his eyes shut, dramatically awaiting your review. âMmm, Johnnie, this is so good.âÂ
He exhales, âOh thank God. I was honestly just fucking guessing on all the measurements, I have zero clue how much of anything is in a Dirty Shirley.âÂ
You stare at each other for a second, before breaking out into a fit of laughter. You grab his arm as he finishes pouring a drink for himself, âLetâs go dance, câmon!âÂ
He pauses, looking across the room at a girl. He recognizes her. You wonder who she is, and feel a shot of jealousy course through your veins. Then you feel guilty. He wasnât yours to be jealous for. âCan we dance in a minute, y/n? I just wanna run to the bathroom real quick,â he asks. But you can tell heâs lying. You drop your hand from his arm. He looks at the space where your hand had rested, and disappointment floods his face for a split second, before he straightens his posture, and makes eye contact with you again.Â
âYeah⊠sure Johnnie,â you walk off to socialize somewhere else, not wanting to be around him when you feel so full of anger for something that doesnât exist.Â
He stares at you as you walk away, feeling like he screwed up, but not knowing how to fix it. Instead he walks up to the girl he recognizes.Â
You watch him from the other side of the party. He looks perfect. With his hair falling into place in front of his eyes, his red button down slightly hanging open, and a strong hand gripping his drink. And heâs smiling at her. Heâs laughing. How could he look at her, and laugh, and be so perfect? All you can think to do is down the rest of the drink heâd made you, and walk up to the kitchen island to grab a couple more shots, which required you to walk past Johnnie and the girl.Â
You hear them laughing again, and you watch as he pulls her into a hug. You turn away, trying to stop the tears from stinging your eyes and ruining your makeup. Upon reaching the island, you bump into someone.
âOh sorry!â A manâs voice shouts, turning around to greet you, âhey, are you okay?â He asks, catching you frantically wiping tears from your cheeks.
âOh yeah, Iâm fine!â You say, forcing a smile, âjust having a shitty night and I wanna get drunk!âÂ
âUnderstandable,â he affirms, pouring two shots of rum and handing one to you, clinking his glass to yours, âcheers to shitty nights!âÂ
You laugh, and down the shot with him. âAnother?â You tilt your glass towards him, and he pours.
You clink your glass to his again and smile at him. âCheers!â you say this time, and you both down a second shot. Youâre definitely starting to feel buzzed now.Â
You turn to see Johnnieâs eyes already fixed on yours. Heâs not with the girl anymore, and he looks mad. Maybe heâs mad she left, you think to yourself, clenching your jaw and forcing yourself to look away. You can sense his presence disappear, and you turn around to watch him walking upstairs, presumably to his bedroom. Heâs glaring down at his feet, refusing to look up.Â
Youâre pissed. What the hell did he have to be angry about? Itâs not like he was watching the person heâs in love with flirt with someone else! Youâre the only one who should be mad. And you needed to tell him.Â
âThanks for cheering me up, youâre sweet,â you say to the kind stranger, and he smiles at you.Â
âAny time!â He says, before giving you a friendly clap on the shoulder and walking away.Â
You run up the stairs after Johnnie, knocking on his closed bedroom door. âJohnnie? Itâs me. Can I come in? I need to talk to you.âÂ
âFine,â he responds dryly, which pisses you off even more.Â
You open the door and close it behind you. Turning on your heel to meet his gaze. Heâs sitting on his bed, staring at you with his arms crossed. âBetter make it quick, I know your boyfriendâs probably waiting downstairs for you.âÂ
âWhat?!â You yell, âBoyfriend?? I donât even know the guy. He was just there to cheer me up, unlike you! God forbid Iâm just a little upset after you lied to me about going to the bathroom to talk to some random girl!âÂ
âYou saw that?â He cringes, a look of guilt washing over his face.Â
âYeah and you looked awfully cozied up to her.â You spit out.Â
âWhat?! No! Y/n sheâs my friend!! A childhood friend, and I didnât know Jake and Tara invited her! I saw her and wanted to catch up. I shouldnât have lied to you about it, and honestly I donât know why I did it. I guess I just didnât want you to think I was ditching you to hang out with someone else. Iâm sorry.âÂ
âWell I was pissed, Johnnie. I was. And I know I shouldnât care. I have no reason to care. Weâre not together. But I do. I do.âÂ
Johnnie stands up and looks at you with understanding. He reaches out with both hands and pulls you towards him, so youâre staring into his eyes. âSay it.âÂ
You scoff and look away, âSay what, Johnnie?âÂ
âYou know what.â He pulls your chin towards his face again, and says in a softer, weaker tone, âSay it⊠please.âÂ
You gaze up at him, the words are on the tip of your tongue, âI donât want anyone else. I only want YOU.âÂ
âThen fucking have me.âÂ
He closes the gap between your mouths in the most desperate, messy kiss youâve ever had. It was as if heâd been waiting for your entire friendship, and everything heâd done during that time led up to this exact moment. You understood then that heâd always wanted you. The feeling was always mutual. And it always would be.Â
He pulls away just to breathlessly say, "I've loved you since the day we met.âÂ
He continues kissing you, quicker now, giving you longer, full kisses on the lips, followed by quicker pecks all over your cheeks and jawline.
âSo have I,â you let out, grasping his face in both your hands and pulling it back up to lock eyes with him. âItâs always been you, Johnnie.â
He smiles and kisses you again, except this time you canât help from smiling against his mouth, and neither can he.Â
He breathes out, relieved, âFinally.â
---
i love this so much! as always likes and reblogs are so appreciated!! :)
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false god (we still worship)
pairing: carmen berzatto x f!reader
summary: Carmen has a bad shift, but youâre more than willing to turn his night around and show him exactly how good he is.
word count: 3,362
tags: SMUT, rough sex, unprotected sex, oral sex, creampie, semi-public sex, window sex, lingerie, praise kink, vulnerable Carmy, 18+ only
note: this is explicit 18+ only and yet again NOT an advert for safe sex. with that said, itâs fucking hot ;) and thank you to the wonderful person who submitted the prompt that inspired this, based around Carmy having a tough day and reader taking care of him (even though Iâve failed at tumblr and canât find the original message). enjoy!!
thesydkid
Yo. Awful shift. Glad you werenât here to see it.
whochefsouschef
fuckkk what happened?
thesydkid
Newbies think they know better than Tina because they went to CIA. You can imagine how Carmy took that.
whochefsouschef
was it kyle? heâs been like that since he started.
thesydkid
Yeah
Classic
whochefsouschef
syd?
I know thatâs not all. kyle doesnât warrant a text warning
thesydkid
Carm got food sent back.
whochefsouschef
shit.
thanks for the heads up
thesydkid
Good luck, cya tomorrow.
â------------------------------
Itâs late, the kind of late where even the drunks winding through the streets have stopped their singing, the kind where itâs already too late to go to bed and get an ounce of good sleep. Itâs the kind of late where you would have known it was a bad night even if Sydney hadnât texted you first, because you know how hard Carmy cleans when heâs upset, and exactly how long that takes.
You sit up in bed abruptly, pushing your hair out of your face and considering your options. You have maybe ten minutes if Sydney texted you as soon as Carmy left, ten minutes to decide how you want to handle this kind of bad day. You feel a surge of frustration that you werenât on shift tonight. As the Front of House Manager, you could have soothed the moronic, greedy, power-tripping customer who wanted to pull one over on the best chef in Chicago by sending back his perfect food-
Actually, maybe it was for the best you werenât on shift tonight, or you might no longer have a job.
You smile when you think about how Richie will have handled it though. His courteous, collected energy even as he probably said something like, âOh, youâd like to send this back? Wow, Iâve never heard a, uh - what do you call âem - oh, complaint before. Are you sure you know what this dish is?â
The smile fades when you think about Carmyâs reaction. You push yourself out of bed, decided by the image of his frustration, the anger he uses to hide his sadness. Thereâs been a few particularly bad shifts since you and Carmy moved in together - and Richie labelled himself as âmatchmaker to the starsâ for hiring you - and you know that if left to his own devices, Carmy will happily stay up all night stewing.
But youâre here now, and youâre determined not to let him. So you set your plan in motion.
By the time you hear his keys clink in the lock, youâre settled by the sofa, bare skin slightly chilled by the evening air coming in from the cracked window. You glance up as Carmy walks in, catch his eye, and he stops dead, hand still on the lock.
Bluer-than-blue eyes flicker across the scene youâre presenting for him - your best lingerie, your patient kneel, steady eyes - and he straightens from his tired stoop.
âHey,â he murmurs, eyes still tracing how the lace drapes across your skin in the low light.
âHi,â you smile. âJoin me?â
Without looking away from you, Carmy shuts the door, drops his stuff in a careless pile. âSyd texted?â
âI couldnât sleep. And I wanted to surprise you.â
Carmyâs eyes drift away from you for a second, glancing around the room, like he does when heâs thinking something through. You can almost hear his brain clicking through the gears. Turning the kitchen off, turning something else on.
âIt was bad, sweetheart,â he says. âFuckinâ shitty.â
âItâs over.â You raise a hand to him, tilt your head towards the sofa. âGet over here and let me do filthy things to you to make up for it.â
He laughs at that, toes off his shoes and takes the few steps to the sofa. He doesnât sink into the cushions like you expected though, but kneels in front of you. You reach out, run a hand over the side of his face, feel the days-old stubble rasping under your touch. Bringing your other hand up, you cup his face, thumbs tracing over the bags under his eyes like you can smooth them out with that simple touch. You can feel his exhaustion in the way he leans forward into the feeling, and it breaks something in you.
When you kiss him, you intend for it to be careful and slow. Bring him out of his shell, remind him that things outside The Bear exist. But the moment your mouths press together, the moment you nip the edge of his bottom lip, the drained and defeated Carmy is gone.
He surges forward, almost sending you tipping over backwards, arms wrapping around your waist. One hand slides to your lower back, stretching to cover as much of your skin as he can possibly grasp. Pulling you forward, Carmy bows his head to suck a bruise into your throat and you know for damn sure itâll be visible tomorrow. A glaring mark, a âfuck youâ to the rest of the world painted on your skin.
Your hands are far from idle either, and as one pulls at his T-shirt, rucking it up to explore the muscles beneath, you run a finger from the other over the arch of his ear. Carmy shudders in a broad, full-body motion and his hips stutter, jerk forward into you. You both moan at the contact and you want to chase it, feel him pressed between your thighs, but clearly Carmy has other ideas.
He reaches under your arms and pulls you up to stand with him, letting his hands continue their journey down your sides to reach your waist. All you have time to do is gasp as he hoists you off your feet, and heâs already walking towards your floor-length window as you desperately try to wrap your legs around his waist. He doesnât give you much chance to breathe, the hand not holding you up pushing deep into your hair and curling strands around his fingers so he can pull your head back, press more kisses to the hollow of your throat.
For a dizzying moment, you can see the lights of Chicago upside down, but you manage to pull your head up just before your back hits the cold glass. You hiss at the chill against your bared skin and Carmy runs a hot palm around to your back in apology even as his tongue continues its insistent sweeps against your own.
You barely register the soft clink of his belt, the push and rustle of fabric between you until his cock is pressed close, the only thing keeping it from filling you your own stupid lacy underwear.
With a frustrated groan, Carmy gently lowers you until your feet sink into the carpet, but he still gives you no room to move, pressing you into the misted-up glass as if he canât tear his body from yours.
âCarmy,â you pant, unsure what youâre asking, but you know he understands when he grabs your upper arm, spins you around to face the view. The glass is warmer now, but still cold enough that the press of your barely-concealed nipples to its surface makes you moan as you hear Carmy kneel, feel him sliding your panties down your legs.
He doesnât even let them reach your ankles before heâs up again, kissing his way along your spine as he goes, and finally, finally, the head of his cock nestles in where it needs to be.
Its hot and heavy presence has you pushing your hips back, wanting to feel the glorious slide of him, lose yourself in the moment he splits you, and all you can see, eyes half-slitted in pleasure, are the glittering lights of the city below. You live pretty high up and the lights are low enough that none of the busy pedestrians below should see, but all it would really take is a glance up and an observant eye. To see your breasts pressed against the glass, Carmyâs possessive hands gripping your hips as he finally drives into you. Even from this distance, you imagine the pleasure on your own face and your walls flutter around Carmy until he growls, pulls your hands from where they were flat against the window into a bind behind you.
There is nothing kind and gentle about this moment, no give in Carmyâs body as he fucks into you, and you revel in it. Let him take his pain and translate it into pleasure through your body. Let him take and take and take until he has nothing left to give, and let the world see him doing it. Let them see whatâs his.
These thoughts alone have you teetering, desperate for a few more strokes, but the surprise of Carmy reaching around to draw lazy circles over your clit as he snarls, âFucking look at you, look how good you take me,â has you seizing up instantly. You can faintly hear your own surprised cry through the buzzing in your ears, and Carmyâs gasps as he feels you pulsate around him, but you only fully come back to yourself when you press your forehead against the blessedly cool glass.
The strength of your orgasm is enough that your legs are visibly shaking now, and without a word, Carmy bends to scoop up your lower half and pulls you in, cradling you across his front. You close your eyes for a moment, trying to calm your breathing as you push your face into his chest, but before you can even begin to get your head straight, you feel soft sheets on your back as he lowers you to the bed.
He sinks down beside you, and all his desperation from a moment ago is gone as his body finally relaxes. Heâs still hard and straining towards you, but the light has dimmed in his eyes, so when you reach for him, itâs to run a hand across his cheek, to bring his eyes to yours. When you move towards him, itâs to curl your legs with his, to press your forehead against his and settle his breathing with your own.
People think Carmy is so used to taking shit that it doesnât hurt him anymore, but you know. You know how each word drives so deep that he doesnât know how to take good anymore, how he invites the anger and the aggression of a kitchen into his soul because the alternative is realising that all the shit heâs been through is too awful, too devastating to reconcile. To keep feeling it, so he has no time to wonder what his life would be without it.
You see the weakness and the fear and the vulnerability, and you know how he absorbs the feeling and translates it into his work, how he uses it to fuel him, how he turns the criticism and the insults and the hatred into being better, being perfect, doing a good job.
âYou are so wonderful, Carmy,â you murmur, and when he tries to look away, you hold his head still. âTell me what happened.â
âNothing. Shit, not really anything.â Youâre silent, and he sighs as he caves under the pressure of your gaze. âBack when I was in New York, you remember that chef I told you about?â
You nod, because you know you canât say anything remotely okay about that particular chef.
âHe had this thing, about pasta. Thought he was some kind of expert because he spent, like, three months with Massimo Bottura. We had to boil water from cold every time, for every single batch of pasta we served, and there was this exact amount of salt we had to add. It wasnât like a teaspoon, it was seven point three grams for every hundred of pasta. And he could fucking tell if you were off, he barely had to taste it. One time I saw him smell somebodyâs pasta and tell them they were off by point two.â Carmyâs voice is shaking, and you move your thumb along his cheekbone slowly, calmly, giving him something to root himself to. Remind him heâs not there.
âAnd I was thinking about it while I was cooking the bucatini, and itâs like he was in the room again, saying the same shit he always did. Watching over my shoulder as I added the salt, and it made me so mad,â Carmy mutters, breaths coming in pants now. âAnd I didnât even think, I just added like way too much salt. Enough to fuckinâ ruin it, âcos I just wanted to see him choke on it. And then I sent it out.â
You donât take your eyes from his face as you curl one hand down to straighten the fingers of his, to stop the nails heâs digging deep into his palm from cutting into his skin.
âAnd of course it got sent back, and Richie apologised and comped their bill, and they didnât care. But, like, I just sabotaged my own restaurant. My own reputation, becuase I canât stop fuckinâ thinking about salting pasta,â Carmy finishes in a rush, and he finally meets your eyes.
âCarmy, youâre working in a kitchen every day. Itâs no surprise you remember other kitchens youâve been in, and the kind of behaviour youâve had to endure. But itâs not that kitchen anymore. This is your kitchen weâre talking about, your space. When you look over your shoulder, heâs not there anymore. Syd is, and sheâs got your back. Weâre not some pristine, sterile team with no heart. Richieâs there.â You feel a surge of emotion so strong for the brilliant, vulnerable man in front of you that you push your face into his shoulder, hard enough that he has to steady himself from falling back onto the bed. His other hand comes up to card loosely through your hair, and you suppress a soft noise of comfort to finish with, âIâm there.â
âI know, baby,â he responds, pulling you closer until youâre practically curled into his lap. âAnd I think itâll get easier, itâs already easier. I just donât think Iâll ever entirely stop sabotaging myself. Iâm not like the food I make, Iâm not composed and-and, perfect. Iâm not, uh, not always good at stuff.â
âOkay, but youâre good plenty of the time,â you whisper, looking up at him. You smile as he glances down, catches your eye. âI could go on for days about the stuff youâre good at.â
âOh yeah?â Carmy murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead, down and round the edge of your face to the shell of your ear. You shiver instinctively, press into the feeling.
âYouâre good at that. Good at getting me out of control,â and your voice is already shaking.
âYouâre not out of control, babe. Iâve got you. Youâre mine,â Carmy is muttering inbetween kisses as he rolls you onto your back, pins your arms to your sides with his legs and begins to fully slide off your lingerie, slowly, carefully. His hands are, as always, steady. You remember all the times youâve watched him roll a cigarette, piece together edible art as flames lick at his chefâs whites, and you canât remember a time youâve seen them shake.
From the eye of the storm heâs creating in you, you watch as he slides down the bed, skimming his lips across your trembling thighs until he sits back, and moves his hands to your knees.
You can almost feel the pleasure it gives him as, at the lightest touch from him, you part your legs, let him see what he does to you. What he has done. When he growls, you realise he can see remnants of your earlier escapade against the window at your entrance, his come marking you.
When Carmy dips his finger inside you, your hips jerk towards him, but he holds them down with one hand. His finger delves deep for a moment, and then leaves you suddenly, but before you can protest, he brings his hand to your face, offers you the digit. Youâre entranced by the silent command in his eyes, and with no hesitation, you open your mouth and let Carmyâs come-covered finger slide inside, press deep towards the back of your throat. When you swallow, the bitterness makes you moan, envision being on your knees for Carmy, his fingers twined so deep into your hair it hurts, feeling his white-hot heat at the back of your throat.
It breaks whatever tension was stretched taut between you, and Carmy wraps his arms around your legs, pulls your body towards him and lowers his face between your thighs. For a moment, he teases you, nibbling at the juncture where your leg curves into your hip, skimming his teeth across the bone, but you know heâs secretly just as impatient as you are, and when he takes his first tender lick across your clit, he moans even louder than you do.
Giving head is an art for Carmy, and feels like a privilege to you. Youâve seen him enjoy food in the kitchen, give somebody that blown-away glance that theyâve worked their whole lives to see, but he never takes more than one bite.
But this, with you, as you watch him devour you whole...Itâs the only meal youâve ever watched him finish.
Tongue swirling delicately across your center, breaking for hungry kisses to your thighs as his hands grasp at any inch of you he can reach, you canât help the words that spill from you, âyes, yes, Carmy, youâre so good, you make me feel so good, my good boy, please-â, but you canât continue as he slides two fingers deep inside your aching pussy, so deep you donât ever want him to move.
At this point in the erotic novels you read during your lunch break (which, if Fak were to find them, would spell the end of your career), the heroine says something about how it feels like hours pass with her lover between her legs. But this is real life, and all Carmy has to do is mutter, âFinish for me baby, finish for me,â for you to come embarrassingly quickly.
Youâre practically incoherent on the comedown, and all you can summon the strength to do is pull him into you, press kisses to his forehead and mumble over and over how fucking amazing he makes you feel.
âIf you lose everything else, Carmy, if you ever think there isnât a thing in this world youâre any good at, just know that you are a god at giving head,â you pant eventually, and when he pushes his face into your neck, you can feel his smile there.
For a moment more, you just enjoy the press of his body against yours, revel in the sweat and slick between you. It dawns on you slowly just how slick it feels, and you gasp as you realise-
âCarmy, did you-?â
Carmy laughs into your skin, tracing one hand across your chest idly until you shiver. âYeah. You, uh, you were moaning and telling me how good I was andâŠit was hot.â
You laugh with him breathlessly, still kind of in awe at how well you fit after all this time, how at home you feel with him. âWell, I hope that made your bad day a little better.â
Carmy is silent for a second before he murmurs, âYou have no idea what you do for me,â and you can see the shine of his eyes in the glitter of the city lights filtering through your window. âThere can never be a bad day if I end it right here, in this bed, in your arms.â
You would reply, but heâs kissing you into silence before you can, and you wonder for a moment if any words will ever need to be said between you and Carmy again, or whether you can communicate all the fear, all the anger, all the love, just with kisses and touch and his lips against yours. But eventually, as you slip into sleep with his body twined around yours, you decide that tongues were made for more than just talking.
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đđđđ đđđđđ - Prologue: Rotten Flesh
Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen X f! Reader
Words: ca. 3.500
â đđđ«đ§đąđ§đ đŹ â Feyd being completley sick -> obsessed with you, blood and slightly gore, mentions of smut (sexually passion) and rape, touching himself, biting (wounds), mention of Reader being dead, he slaughters people, he hears (your) voice
Since the majority was in favor of publishing the prologue, here it is. The two previous chapters are now private, but will reappear almost 1:1, with minor changes, maybe as Chapters III and IV. (I mention this to avoid confusion later.) I'm using this as an opportunity to give myself another jolt with the story. Unfortunately, I am generally a person who is often not satisfied with my work and I'm generally feeling a bit down at the moment. Thank you for your kind comments and private messages. đ€
It felt like he had seen you die. In such a strange way. He had never seen that look in your eyes before. Such pain, deep in your soul, reflected in your tear-filled and reddened eyes. You had screamed, he had heard you, but he hadn't been able to do anything. His body hadn't reacted, it had been such a disgusting and uncomfortable feeling. Never before had his body disobeyed the commands of his brain. His limbs had become weaker and weaker until he could no longer feel them, even though he had fought so hard against it. But no chance. His vision blurred, but his ears heard your cries for him a few more seconds. Until your voice, to which he had become so accustomed, slowly fell silent.
In his eyes, he had been treated like dirt! He couldn't believe it when he woke up from his deep and painful unconsciousness. He groaned and briefly touched his forehead, the pressure almost unbearable. As if his skull would explode at any moment and blood would spill from his eyes. When the memory caught up with him, he immediately jumped up and hurried to get to your chambers, late at night - only to find it without you. He thought hastily and went to the training halls. But you weren't there either. âNo...â , escaped rough from his throat. His voice still maltreated from unconsciousness. How could that be? How could it be that you were gone? His inner helplessness turned into pure wrath when he realized that his uncle, Vladimir Harkonnen, had torn you away from him. He remembered his nightmares, which had been rare but felt so real. The endless darkness he had seen and felt when you disappeared. He felt that same darkness now. It hugged him unpleasant, made him feel pain again and he felt like it was taking his breath away. Even in the dark and cold jails, he didn't hear you when he called your name. You were gone. And he didn't know what to do.
That night, he had settled down in your chambers. The bed linen and the soft blanket still smelled like you. A mixture of your own scent, your perfumes and bath salts. This alone made his body, his lower region, react. Although his mind didn't even feel much desire. Nevertheless, he touched himself and forced his genital to stay hard, even after his numerous, (now) unsatisfying orgasms. Just as he had been trained. To bring your body to climax again and again. To drive you crazy. To give you something you deserved, after your horror. Feyd's blue eyes were half open and his thoughts circled around in his head. Some nights he stayed awake, unable to rest. Because even sleep was often not a release for him. Just then he saw you, standing on the balcony, the light breeze making your hair move a little. The moonlight bathed Giedi Prime in a soft, cool light. He could see the silhouette of your body under your nightdress. Your soft, feminine curves. Oh, how they flattered him. âCome here, now!â , he spoke quietly. You heard him and crawled onto the bed, playfully falling onto him. To him, you were as light as a feather as he reached for you and pulled you into his arms to warm you. He knew that you loved it. His dreams played merciless tricks on him. Until he no longer knew whether you had died or not, his dreams confused him. He often no longer knew what was reality and what was not. Once he saw your dead body right next to him on his bed. So sallow and pale. Sometimes he saw your blushing cheeks and your beautiful smile. So honest and full of feelings.
He hadn't pulled the blanket over you one night, he wanted to enjoy the sight you offered him. Your almost colorless skin glowed and as still and wonderfully naked as you lay there in front of him, he remembered many nights when you had secretly made love. Oh, it was so dangerous... But what a delight it had been for both of you. Feyd smiled and let his fingertips caress your ribcage, grasping your firm, cold breasts. How he had loved biting your nipples...! He leaned over you, supporting himself with his arms. How quiet you were, how peacefully you slept...! Surely you wouldn't mind another lovemaking session. He gently kissed your sunken eyes, your eyelids shimmered bluish, but your eyelashes were still silky. He greedily licked your lips, pushing the tip of his tongue between them. He had always loved kissing you, the wild passion of both your bites. He forced your jaw apart, invaded your mouth with his tongue, sought yours and entwined it. Fierce excitement tingled through his body and roughly he spread your legs, pressing his stiff, hot cock against your cold, clammy skin. âMay I penetrate again, dearest? Or does it hurt too much?â You offered no resistance as he thrust inside you and he didn't feel the coldness of your embrace. His moans were rough and desperate as he thrust into you again and again with a slow rythm, holding your limp thighs tightly wrapped around him. He could hardly bear the lust for your body, even though you didn't move and were completley silent.
You both had often been intimate together. And every single time had been forbidden. Because intimacy would only have been allowed after the wedding. You had pushed him so far, wrapped him around your fingers, completely unintentionally. He had sunk to his knees in front of you, had willingly spoiled you with his tongue. He remembered how you had lain in his arms and the two of you had begun (further) lovemaking, sometimes hours later. Deep in the darkness of the night. Feyd would never forget the taste of your skin, your blood and your nectar. Your skin as soft as silk when he had caressed it with his fingertips. Full of scars from your training, from fights and previous physical pain in your life, from which Feyd had freed you. For him, the lines had been like jewelry on you. He had loved kissing you and, above all, biting you. Knowing that you were his! And through his love bites, everyone else here also knew that you belonged to him. He too had a few scattered scars from your teeth, but you had much more on your body. He longed to put his lips on yours, to press your body tightly against him and never let you go. To mark your neck, your inner thighs and your back red and blue. He also remembered how he had once bitten your neck from behind, like an animal. Only once, because this had been your last time. And today he regretted punishing you by not giving you some climaxes. Even though you'd been one second away from it. Pure intent. Now he would give so much to hear your shy sweet, sometimes hoarse (as if you were choking), moans and your pounding heart again.
So much...
He had loved to purr soothing words into your ears. How much he desired you, or how much blood you would spill together once all the other worthless creatures were kneeling in front of you both, trembling in fear, begging for mercy. Often this was a kind of foreplay for you, as it had excited you and him so much to hear these words from the Na-Baron. Or simply when you were lying in his arms, so that you would dream something beautiful.
When he walked past your chambers at night, after his training or meetings, he thought he heard your painfull screams again. Even though he knew you weren't there. And you would probably never be there again. He would never enter the familiar premises and find you. As you read books about Giedi Prime on your bed or in a baroque armchair, hungrily acquiring knowledge. He would never again smell the scent of lavender, lemon or other bath salts, as you relaxed in the warm water. He would never again find you asleep in bed and lie down to you, to feel your warm body against his and fall asleep comfortably next to you. Holding you tightly on him. Sometimes, only rarely, you woke up from it. But too gladly, so that you knew he was there.
Since your absence, he has been killing even more indiscriminately than usual. Again. He ended lives, but there was no fun, no inner relaxation, no balance. It was only satisfying until the knife left the skin of the bleeding victim. As if in a trance, he had disemboweled or dismembered some bodies, stained the floor completely red. And still, it wasn't enough for him. He had bitten the flesh from the victims' bodies until their screams were silenced. He didn't even give some of them the chance to make a sound, as he had severed their vocal cords directly. He killed men as well as women. Feyd didn't care at all. The main thing was that blood flowed and numbed his senses for a few seconds. The longing for you.
The dagger you had given him was always at his side. As you had said, it was not well suited for fighting. The steel was so delicate that it could break. But it slipped through skin and flesh as easily as butter. Blood flowed instantly from the clean-cut wounds, overflowing the skin and soaking the dying one's clothes. Feyd found it particularly beautiful to look at the female Harkonnens who wore light-colored clothes. How some eyes filled with tears before the light and life in them went out.
But he started to hear a voice in his head. More and more often. Very similar to yours. Or was it even yours? How gentle it could be, soft as a cat's fur, it stroked his senses and calmed his overwrought nerves. They had been talking for a long time, your voice and the Na-Baron. He smiled. Was it progress? No, of course not
No one was allowed to enter your chambers, which were still there. No one was allowed to enter it, or they would pay with their lives immediately. He had forbidden the rest of your belongings to be taken. Until his new Na-Baroness and fiancée would arrive. He had snatched a few of your valuables. Among other things, a few of your knives and your jewelry, such as your harness-chains, a bracelet and two rings. He would never forget how you had once waited for him naked on his bed, wearing only the jewelry on your body. The Harkonnen had touched you lovely right away.
He remembered your beautiful clothes on you, which had flattered your body so much. Be it your dresses, which didn't hide your back and so everyone could see his marks on your skin. Be it your nightclothes, although he preferred you naked next to him anyway, so he could keep you warm. The heavy sounds of your high combat boots, with which you made bones break when had you kicked someone. Smeared fresh blood on your hands and face when you had killed. Oh, you had had his own blood on your lips a few times, but it hadn't bothered him. On the contrary, he had loved it when you bit him with passion. But he had bitten you much more often, almost every time. If he had bitten as hard as you did, his teeth deep in your flesh, you would have bled to death from the wounds. He preferred not to bite you as brutally as you bit him, but therefore much more often. How ironic... you had usually been shy in bed, but as soon as you tasted his blood, you hadn't let go of the wound. Your teeth deep inside him until he had to tear you away from him, so he could continue kissing you.
He missed the brutal way you fought in battle and let worthless blood flow here on Giedi Prime. Just like that. But he also missed your sweet grin and giggle, when he whispered beautiful evil things to you. Or the shocked look on your face when he'd caught you gazing at him in adoring and dreaming. He had loved to push you over the edge, teasing you with actions and words. He had grinned at you knowingly, and you had tried hopelessly to avoid his gaze.
Your flushed face had given him too much pleasure and boosted his ego. He knew that you loved him. But the Harkonnen had also enjoyed things that he would never have thought possible before your time. You had been the first to give him loving little kisses. You had been the first to send a shiver down his spine with your beautiful hands, as you stroked his chest and admired his rock-hard muscles. Yes, his pets had been a hundred times better at satisfying him in a purely sexual way. But he had known this long before. He couldn't expect much from someone who, in your case, had only had traumatizing experiences. But what Feyd appreciated was, that you had given yourself to him at all. That you had been willing to be intimate with him, even though it was strictly forbidden before the marriage. The satisfaction you gave him was something else than purely sexual. They were feelings and a desire that he had never felt before. He needed and craved you.Â
He missed your grip on his body, when your arms were wrapped around him, as he had to get up very early in the morning. And you had also, coincidentally, been awake. How you clung to him like a spider monkey so that he wouldn't leave. At first, he had found the situation fucking stupid. But then he understood that you did this because you liked him, loved him. It was such a strange feeling for him... sometimes he would lie down again and in most cases you would fall asleep again after just a few minutes. His comfortably warm body and his slow hand stroking up and down your back were like a pleasant narcosis for you. And he kept realizing that he would never do that again. He hated the pain he felt. But that was exactly what told him that you had really been there. That his nightmares were not mere and insignificant images and events. That your sparkling eyes had really been there, when you could finally see and feel him again. Sometimes only after several hours, but sometimes not for a few nights, because the Baron had forbidden it. He had known about your intimacy.
When Feyd had seen you again after many years, he didn't think much of you for a while. But when he realized that what others said about you was true - that you were an excellent warrior, full of will, he had had plans with you. Perhaps not so different from what it had been in the end - because he found you interesting. He would have made you his trusted partner, right hand, assistant. He would have touched you just as much (as he already had) if you hadn't had to leave then, back to your homeplanet. Nobody would have thought that at that time, it was already clear, that you would become his wife, his Baroness.
His dark soul hated himself for ignoring you on the first week on Giedi Prime. However, he had ordered you to spend the nights with him. He hadn't touched you, he just wanted you to lie next to you. So that he could, somehow, get used to being near you. Your presence. You had tried several times to touch him gently, to stroke his arm. But Feyd had shrugged and avoided your touches. Such tenderness had been completely unknown to him. Not to give it (as he had already touched you before), but to receive it. His uncle had brainwashed him for years that a (Na-)Baroness was worth nothing! That intelligence was a waste on females. But Feyd had felt differently about you, but knew it was wrong. His feelings had made him seem confused and weak at first. Until he could overcome himself to give in and approach you. And to this day, he would say it was one of the best things he did in his life.
To touch, to kiss you and receive similar actions back from you. He silently thanked you for your trust in him. He silently thanked you that someone could love him the way you did. Even though he had never wished or searched for it. With you, it just happened. When you had woken up, some minutes before him, a few times, you cuddled up against his chest or his back. It had woken him up, but he hadn't said anything. He loved it, that you adored him.
Feyd had shed blood for you, just as you did for him. And even now he shed blood mercilessly. Killed anyone who got on his nerves in the slightest. A single backtalk or a single hesitant look when someone questioned his opinion - dead. Be it through your birthday gift to him, a pocket knife or his bare hands. He also remembered when you were worried about him, when he almost died in the arena on his birthday. When his own knife had been so close to his face. The Atreides could have slit his throat or rammed it into his skull...! Somewhere he had seen your concern as pathetic. But even this had shown him that you loved him.
Feyd just looked at the rest of your knives and daggers. The handles were slightly narrower, better suited to smaller hands. Still usable for him without any problems. The blades as sharp as his dark soul. In the morning, he chose which weapon would accompany him that day. Hidden under his clothes, but always ready to hand.
That night, Feyd tossed and turned a few times. His eyeballs twitched under his eyelids and his breathing was heavy. When he opened them, looked into the dim darkness and heard light rain in the background, he saw you. Known jewelry on your hands, them tenderly stroking his strong shoulders. He didn't recognize your darkened fingers. He only felt your warming hands. âHello, my beloved.â , he heard your voice. Very quietly, the rain almost drowned it out. One hand moved from his shoulder to his chest. His heart was beating so hard and fast, as if it was about to burst. Your bad teeth flashed as you grinned at him. It wasn't sweet or shy like usual. It was evil and seemed like a pure lie. âYour heart... is it still mine, Feyd?â Your skin, your hair... everything about you was colorless. It looked like a rotten gray. Your bony hands rested on his cheeks, stroking them gently. Your completely white eyes sparkled at him with delight. âOh, my Feyd. My Baron.â , he heard you whisper. The words came from your lips, but they sounded somehow different. So unpleasantly oppressive. It was the voice in his head that had been with him for days, or perhaps even weeks. Which had never left him alone since your absence. Your skin was ice-cold, but your touch suddenly burned like fire and it flowed like poison through his veins. Still, he welcomed you as you pressed your cold, dark lips on his. The kiss was tender and soft at first, full of emotion. But your fingernails dug through the skin of his neck when you wrapped your hands around it. The red liquid flowed down his naked back. Against your skin, it seemed scalding hot. As if it was eating into his flesh, sinew and bone like acid. And though the pain increased as you readied yourself on his lap to be closer to your beloved Harkonnen, he didn't let go of you. âAre you going to stay... with me?â , the warrior moaned between the kisses. His hands tightened around your waist, trembling in pain from the cold surface of your skin. His body suddenly ached like never before. Like he was being torn apart from the inside out. His mouth filled with thick blood, he pushed you aside to spit it out. But there was no end to it, the liquid soaked your bedding. His blue eyes flashed up at you. âDevil!â , he growled as the blood loss diminished. You smiled again as he pulled you back to him anyway to continue kissing you. Feyd moaned hoarse. Not only with lust, but also with pure pain, which coursed through his entire body like jolts of electricity. â[Y/n]...â , he barely uttered audibly. Your name took all his breath away. âI will not come to you. But you to me, you already know it, Feyd!â
Disturbing experiences can make anyone sick,
violent dreams and visions,
...get under your skin.
Until you no longer know what reality is.
Taglist is open again -> Click here đ€
Thanks for reading. âŠ
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Down the Rabbit Hole Chapter 6
Chapter one here, two here, three here, four here , five here
Pairing: Walton Goggins x You
Rating/Warning: As always minor get out. Little angst, lots of fluff, handholding,kissing, Very Fluffy, Pinch of Angst, Relationship Development, Hurt/Comfort, Older man/ Younger(30s) women, Alternative universe, fictional work (IDK WHY BUT I AM PUTTING IT) Probably more as I go.
Synopsis: Working in film as a make-up artist is hard enough, but then Walton Goggins requests you, well it's way too easy to fall down the rabbit hole.
Note: they are both single, all for fun.
I think I may have an ending now. Posts will continue to be 2-3k long. Every other day more than likely. The whole fic will be around 30k words.
Thank you all again and again for taking the time to read the stories I put out.
***
Your phone hasnât stopped buzzing, your head is a little fuzzy but not nearly as bad as youâd experienced. Opening your eyes you flip the phone over to see itâs nearly twelve-thirty in the afternoon. Blinking a few times you make yourself sit up in bed flipping your phone on to see a deluge of text messages. Groaning you turn your phone off and stretch. Before any messages were answered you need coffee and maybe a shower.Â
Showered and suitably caffeinated you finally flip open the text messages.Â
Trevor:Â
9 am: So what happened?
9:1 5:Hello?
9:30: Look do I need to call the police?
10:30: Itâs been hoursâŠ.
10:32: You never texted me when you got home
11:01: Okay itâs after eleven. You never sleep in.Â
12:45: I am coming over in thirty minutes if I donât hear from you.Â
You reply:
I am fine, I just got home super late. I hope youâre not coming over
Trevor:
You scared me!Â
Why didnât you text me back?
How late were you out
Wait did you go back to his place?????
You groan squeezing your eyes close and drinking a healthy swig of coffee.
You:Â
We went for sushi, then went down to the beach.Â
Trevor:
Thatâs all you're giving me! What kinda 1950s dating scene is this?
You chuckle replying:
We stayed at the beach until 3 am.Â
Trevor:
Wait did you have sex on the beach
You:
TREVOR!Â
Trevor:
Itâs an important question. Donât want to find out on the gossip train.
You:
why canât I have nice things TREVOR. No there was no sex in PUBLIC, we kissed and held hands. Can I not do that????
Trevor:
Are you secretly asexual? There is nothing wrong with that. I think itâs romantic.Â
You:
I am going to become asexual if it means you stop asking me these questions.Â
You could almost hear him laughing at you.Â
Trevor:
You like it!Â
You snorted and switched messages.
Walton:Â
10 am: Hey beautiful, wanted to check in. See how youâre doing this morning.Â
11 am: I was wondering about maybe going out to bar a city over next Friday?Â
11:10 am: Promise I am not trying to kidnap you.
12:20 pm:Â Thought you never slept in?
You:
Hey handsome, sorry I actually slept in. Kept me out past my bedtime.
I would love to go out with you next Friday, fingers crossed they donât keep us late
You set your phone down, pondering if you still trusted the milk in the fridge to make pancakes. Getting up you get a refill of coffee, phone buzzing.Â
Walton:Â
If they do we can always go out saturday? Canât be keeping you up so late. Got make sure you can keep up with this old man.Â
You:
Oh I am sure I can keep up with you đ
Walton:
Careful little lady, I might have to come by and test that theory.
Your face goes bright red and that heat coils low in your belly.Â
You:
Promises, promises,Â
Walton:
If I didnât have a zoom meeting in ten minutes đ
You:
Maybe next Friday.Â
Youâre not sure why youâve become a tease, but youâre enjoying winding him up.Â
Walton:
Monday will be more like it.
You:
đ Your trailer or mine.
Walton:Â
Yours just so Trevor will stop texting me.
You let out a laugh, seemed like Trevor was also enjoying winding him up. You spend the rest of the day chatting with both of them. Sunday is a bit quieter, more zoom calls for Walt and Trevor had gone to Deconâs.Â
***
Monday goes by in a blur, Walton keeps his hands to himself when others are around. But it doesnât stop him from following you behind the food tent to steal kisses. You are now sporting a permanent flush and some of your co-workers are raising eyebrows. You are ever grateful that Trevor has kept his mouth shut. Liz is as pissy as ever but seems to be letting it lay. Katie has slowly warmed up to you again, why you werenât sure.Â
The rest of the week is pretty similar. Early mornings bleed into later evenings, the endless weeks have worn on you. Then Walton slides into your chair with his latest story and you feel like a weight is lifted off of you. The man once more touches you gently and gives you lingering cheek kisses as he goes over to set or costumes.  Â
Friday night rolls around and itâs going to be a long one. You fiddle with a few of your brushes when the door opens quickly.Â
âWe are being released. There was a fire on stage, and it looks like we are out at least until Monday,â Liz rolls in looking flustered, her normal perfect facade gone. She looks haggard and frazzled.Â
âThere was a fire on set?â You ask sitting up and feeling much more awake. Panic shoots down the back of your neck.
âYep, green sparky left a light on too close to set.â Liz sat in the chair grabbing cleaner. You had stayed in the trailer to start tucking things away as Walton was off-screen for the first three setups. You are out the door before she has time to say more. You stop at costumes knocking at the door.Â
Rebeccas opens it and looks down at you, she looks flustered but still has a smile on. âHey, I am guessing you heard about the fire?â
âYes, I did,â You say trying not to sound panicked, even though your mind is racing. The thought of him being hurt makes you nauseous. âUmm -is.â
Rebecca looks into the trailer, âWalt. You almost done in there?â There is a bunch of commotion going on in the trailer, with people moving back and forth, and different actors in various stages of undress.
You looked at her puzzled at how she knew you were looking for him.Â
Rebecca turns back to you, âHe never shuts up about you, so figured thatâs why you are here,â She replies, and you immediately feel flustered, clearly rumors are moving again.Â
âOh- umm- Yeah. I just wanted to make sure he was okay.â
Walton pops his head above Rebecca his fingers nimbly button up his shirt. âBe right out.â
You blush and look away, âSorry, I should probably go.â
Rebeca waved her hand at you, âYour secret is safe with me,â she winked. You wonder not for the first time if you were the only one who was never included in the rumor mill.Â
Walton pops down the stairs, and has on grey button-up sleeves rolled up, navy wash jeans. He tilts his head when he looks at you. You let out a sigh seeing him unscathed.Â
âYou okay?â He asks, his hand touching your shoulder. You nod your head, turning to walk back towards the makeup trailer. You really donât want to make a scene right now, there were way too many eyes on you both right now.Â
âI know I said we should go to the bar tonight,â Walton says, his fingers brushing against yours. You try not to grab his hands, just to know he is still there. âBut maybe we should get take out at my place?â
You get to the trailer, unable to stop looking around. He looks right at you, the way he could focus on you was both flattering and unnerving. Especially as you are trying to keep things under wraps.Â
âHave to stop and grab a few things first.â You say trying to keep your voice from carrying. âHave you pick me up again?â
He smiles, âI would pick you up any day.â
You are bright red, as you open the door and follow the man into the trailer.Â
***
A large paper bag of Chinese food was acquired, along with a couple of bottles of wine. You both devest at the door, slipping off your shoes, and placing the wine on the counter. You watch him move around the kitchen. Practice ease, you watch his muscles move under his shirt. You were tired as anything but being in his kitchen, waiting to eat greasy Chinese food couldnât have been more perfect.Â
You grab plates from him, laying out the smorgasbord board of different food. The two of you scooped a little of everything, before sitting down at the table and pouring some wine.Â
âI feel like I should apologize for having you over instead of going out somewhere,â Walton says taking a sip of wine. âI donât want you to think I am taking advantage of you being here.â
You chuckle, âDonât know what you mean Mr. Goggins. I thought you invited me to your place to play some chess and listen to swing jazz.â
Walton nearly loses his food at the comment, his hand covering his mouth. âSwing jazz? How old do you think I am?â
âOh you got to be at least in your seventies,â You tease back taking a bite out of your spring roll.Â
Walton coughs, âI didnât realize you where into grandfathers.â
You choke a little, âWell to be fair,â You wave your hand, âI am usually good with trying anything once.âÂ
Walton sips on his wine eyebrows raised, âAnything?â
You nod your head, a smile spreading across your face. âCanât say I donât like it unless I try it.â
He puts his glass down, watching you carefully as you finish your cup. âI could make some coffee while we clean up.â
You grab his plate stacking it with your own as he grabs the glasses. You two make it over to the kitchen, there is tension in the air as you clean things up. He grabs a French press out of the cupboards aswell as some coffee and cups.
You slide over to the counter and sit on top of it. Feet kicking back and forth as you watch the man ready things. Flicking the kettle on to heat the water. He comes over and moves himself in between your legs.
âHave I told you how beautiful you are?â He whispers, placing hands on either side of your hips. Face inches from you.
You wrap your hands lazily over his shoulders, opening your legs to let him in closer.Â
âNo, you haven't today.â You lean in to kiss him, kissing him will never get old.
âYou are stunning.â He whispers against your ear. Sending shivers down your spine. The kettle clicks and he's moving away from you. You watch him pour grinds and then water into the press.Â
âWhy did you wait so long to ask?â You inquire, moving your feet back and forth. Letting yourself briefly wonder if maybe the question was too forward. Â
He turned to look at you, bottom lip caught in his teeth. âUmm-â Â
Leaving the coffee he came over to you. Cheeks slightly pink, he tucked his hair behind his ear.Â
âI - ahh. I didn't think you'd want to go out with me.âÂ
Your mouth falls open, âAre you serious?â
He shrugs, fingers fiddling with the outer seam of your jeans. You take his hand in yours using the moment to drag him back between your legs. Once he is there, you tip Waltonâs head up to look right at you.
âYou're so dumb,â You grin leaning in to kiss him. He chuckles and leans into the kiss, strong arms wrapping around you. âI am also dumb, 'cause I thought the same thing about you.â
Walton pulls back looking at you, eyebrows scrunched. âDidn't you just call me dumb? Seems like we both may have missed the sign somewhere along the way.â
You grin one hand finding its way to rub along his jawline. âTook us long enough.â
He smiled, âTrevor is never going to let us live this down.â
You let out a groan, âHe is beyond impossible. I am gonna have a small textbook of text messages.â
Waltonâs eyes glint, and he pulls his phone out. âWhy don't we give him an update.â
You can't help but laugh, âOh absolutely!âÂ
Walton flips his phone on turning on the camera he flips it to the two of you. You lean in and kiss him deeply as he clicks the button. The phone is placed on the counter as you wrap your legs around his waist. You pull out a deep moan that rumbles out of his chest when you bite at his bottom lip. It doesn't stop you from pushing your tongue in. Rocking your hips a little, the room feels hot.Â
Walton pulls away, breathless, âIf you keep doing that, I am liable to forget about our coffee.â
You let out a sigh, âI suppose a little coffee couldn't won't hurt.â You unwrap yourself from him.Â
He moves down the counter as you slide off it. He mixes your coffee just the way you like it, handing you the cup as he fixes his own. You wait, watching him work, he turns and gestures toward the living room. You make your way over to the couch. Â
Folding yourself up on the end of the sofa, tucking one leg underneath the other. You sip on the coffee, it is delicious and beats any store bought. Walton comes over and sits beside you, taking a long sip of his drink. Looking out the windows you can see part of downtown and the north shore. The lights still dazzling, as the evening wore on.Â
âI know, before, I said I wasnât sure you would want to go out with me,â He said looking out at the window as he spoke. âI tried, unsuccessfully to give you space. But the further I got away the more I missed being near you. Then when we went out for sushi, it all just kinda clicked. This isnât conventional.â He gestures between the two of you. You hold your cup listening intently.Â
âI am, ahh, older than you. And my life is not exactly straightforward. I donât take relationships lightly, not that this is that. Or.â You canât suppress the smile as he tries to explain himself. âI am terrible at this. I donât want to move too fast, but also. I canât stop thinking about you.âÂ
You put your cup down, and gesture for him to come closer. He places his cup down beside yours and moves over. Patting your lap, he slips down and lays his head on your lap. You run your hands through his hair, his eyes close and he hums softly against your legs.Â
âI canât tell you what's going to happen,â You say softly, âI am also not good at this, but I am willing to try. However fast or slow you want to go. As for the age thing, I donât care, itâs never bothered me.âÂ
Waltonâs breath slows and his hand slips under your thigh holding you close. You sit there a while longer, letting him just relax against you. Again you are struck by how simple it is, to just sit here with a warm cup of coffee and the city lights. You could get used to weekends like this. But as always he is moving sitting up and smoothing out his hair, grabbing his cup of coffee and taking a sip.Â
âWould you like to come to bed with me?â He asks, you turn away from the lights. His eyes fixed on you, not hungry but curious.Â
âI would like that a lot,â You say licking your lips and heart pounding in your chest.Â
Walton stands up offering you a hand, which you take, pulling yourself to your feet. The coffee is left on the table as you follow him. Fingers laced together like they are two puzzle pieces. You pass by the guest room and there is a door at the end of the hallway. He opens it and you walk into the large room. There are floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the sea, a large king-sized bed on a wooden platform. The room is sparse, with two side tables with lamps. A large walk-in closet to your left along with a bathroom beside it. You wonder for a moment how often he has brought others back here. The thought lingers in the back of your mind as you wander over to sit on the edge of the bed. Walton has disappeared into the bathroom.
âI think I have another toothbrush in here,â He calls out, poking his head around the corner.Â
You smile and move towards him, âI thought you wanted to take things slow?â
Heâs blushing again and handing you the unopened toothbrush, âIâI umm. Just figure Iâd offer.âÂ
You move into the bathroom grabbing some toothpaste off the counter and leaning against it, âI appreciate it, besides donât want to have coffee breath. Would you happen to have makeup wipes?â
Walton thinks for a moment before he scoots you out of the way, as you brush your teeth. He pops up with a bottle of cleanser and a fresh hand towel. âI knew I had it here somewhere.â
You grin and thank him, he brushes his teeth before disappearing again. You take the moment to clean off your face and neck. Looking into the mirror you got a permanent smile on your face. Letting out a happy sigh you finish up, telling yourself not to put the cart in front of the horses. You walk out and Walton is standing there shirtless, blinds drawn. He slips into a grey cotton t-shirt, that you currently hate, and black sweatpants. Sensing you staring he turns around to see you.Â
Chapter seven
*tiny cliffhanger. I always need at least one đ*
*As always if you'd like to be tagged let me know! *
*reblogs, likes, and comments appreciated! *
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hey not to sound rude or anything itâs just a critic that i would like to share with you bc i feel like you write too much detail about other things that arenât really how do i say it not important to the storyline. for example you wrote almost a whole chapter of jk and his friends doing absolutely nothing other than bicker for 30mins while drinking beer and what not so while itâs cool and very important for us readers to know about some details and information about the characters in the story itâs just too much and you did it again in chapter 7 too itâs like we never get to see him interact with oc more than 5 mins and the next moment heâs with his friends or idk she has to work on this and that like i get it she has to work but i donât need to know the equipments. again im not trying to be rude or discredit you i love your story itâs very interesting i just want to let you know what you might do better next time if you would allow us to criticize you :)
hii, thank you so much for your insight!! i really appreciate it, although i am sorry those scenes felt excessive for you. they're meant to visualise the atmosphere, introduce you to the characters, build on their personalities, and strengthen the storyline, so it isn't just two-dimensional cardboard cut-outs interacting with each other in a vacuum. i'm hoping for full immersion into this universe with the way i write, but i understand if you're mainly interested in the two main characters interacting -- that's obviously totally fine! thank you for reading so far, anyway! đ„°â€ïž
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Forgotten lunch
synopsis: Nanami forgets his lunch and you being the sweet wife you are, decide to stop by Jujutsu High to bring it to him
contains: fem reader, established relationship, teasing, dirty talk, possessive!Nanami, rough sex, manhandling, squirting, oral(f!r), cum eating, office sex
note: this was a vip request from a friend :3 i hope u enjoy <3
MDNI
°ââ.àłàż*:°ââ.àłàż*:°ââ.àłàż*:°ââ.àłàż*:°ââ.àł
You awoke to a chime sounding from your phone on the nightstand, a text message from your husband, Nanami. He texted you only seconds ago, letting you know he had left for work and would be home later that night. He did this every time he left for work when you were still asleep, and every time it never failed to make you swoon. It was such a small thing, but you appreciated it nonetheless.Â
You couldn't wait for the day you transferred to work at Jujutsu High instead of the Kyoto school. The thought of getting ready every morning with Nanami and commuting to work together--maybe stopping at a coffee shop before you arrived at the school, made your heart flutter. Only two more weeks and your fantasies would become a reality.
After stretching your body and groaning dramatically, messing up the sheets in the process as you splayed your body out along the length of the bed like a starfish, you begrudgingly pulled yourself out of bed and got ready for the day. You had finished all of your assignments early the day before, meaning you had a day off. A rare occasion, but one you were extremely grateful for.
When you walked into your shared bathroom to wash your face, you were met with a small pink sticky note on your side of the bathroom, a heart, and the words 'Have a good day' written in Nanami's neat handwriting. You smiled as you looked at it before putting on your headband to keep the stray hairs out of your face as you continued with your skincare.
Once you had finished all of your morning care, and pulled on a simple, comfortable outfit, you strolled into the kitchen for breakfast, rubbing the back of your neck as you walked into the room. Immediately, you noticed Nanami's grey lunchbox sitting atop the counter. Furrowing your eyebrows, you walked up to the bag, wondering if he had forgotten his lunch, or if he had used a different bag today and this was the one he used the day prior.Â
Sure enough, when you unzipped the bag, it was full of the lunch you had prepared for him the day before, the cold leaked out into the air, feeling it on your fingertips as you looked inside, letting you know that the food inside was still good. Thank god for insulated lunch boxes. You shook your head and smiled at his mistake, it was unusual that Nanami missed something like this, he was a man severely devoted to his schedule after all.Â
You chalked it up to him being a little tired from the night before, causing his lunch to slip his mind. Because you had the day off, you might've been a little selfish the night before when you made Nanami fuck you into the sheets over and over again. Clinging onto him as you whispered into his ear 'Don't stop, give me more~' until the early hours of the night.Â
It's not like Nanami was complaining, he was just as eager as you were. You definitely could've shortened your... session a little bit for his sake though. Maybe you would've if his dick allowed you to think of anything other than how deep it was inside you. Shaking your head you snapped yourself back into the present, pushing down the growing arousal you felt between your thighs while your brain replayed the most intimate moments you spent together last night.Â
Clearing your throat, you zipped the lunch bag shut, taking it in your hand as you decided to take it to him. You had nothing to do on this day anyway, it's not like it was a hindrance to you in any way. Besides, Nanami's commute to the school was so close--a lot closer than you were to the Kyoto school.
Sitting on the floor with Nanami's lunchbox beside you, you pulled your shoes on, getting ready to leave. You checked your appearance in the mirror before you walked out the door, making sure you looked presentable before you saw your husband, ignoring the fact that Nanami had said many many times that he would find you attractive if you were in a garbage bag.Â
You were surprised Nanami hadn't texted you about his missing lunch. Maybe he still hadn't noticed, even if he did, you doubted he would ask you to bring it to him. Even though he knew you had nothing going on today, Nanami wouldn't want to inconvenience you--such a selfless man. You grabbed the handle of his lunchbox, lifting it from the floor, and with that, you were on your way.
You always loved the Jujutsu High campus. The scenery was beautiful, and the plants and flowers that decorated nicely around the buildings were so well tended to, making it look so clean and inviting. Another plus was the people. Everyone here was so sweet and welcoming, save for a certain old guitarist who appeared to be withering away in front of your eyes, and the higher-ups of course. It was seldom that you saw them though.
The students on campus loved you as well, they were all so excited when they heard from Nanami that you were transferring. You hadn't had many interactions with them, but you could tell they were good kids and respected your husband, especially a young Yuji Itadori, who seemed to almost worship the ground Nanami walked on.
You knew the way to Nanami's office with ease, you had been there many times when you got off work before him and decided to come to his work and sit in his office with him while he finished up. Strolling through the quiet halls of the teacher's offices, your eyes lit up when they landed on Nanami's, his office placed next to Gojo's, whose door was poorly decorated with flowers and hearts that looked like third graders had drawn them. It always made you smile when you saw it.Â
You knocked softly against Kento's door, not speaking as you wanted to surprise him. Before you even finished, the door was being swung open, and your eyes were met with your husband's, his reading glasses pushed atop his head, his hair being pushed back with them. You shamelessly raked your eyes over his body, god he looked good in a suit. His built stature was practically ripping through the material of his clothes, making your thoughts run rampant. You hoped he didn't catch the blush spreading across your cheeks.
"I sensed your cursed energy, what are you doing here my love?" Nanami asked. The tips of his ears were turning a light shade of pink. He was excited to see you--cute. Your hands were behind your back, hiding his lunch box from his view. He said a quiet 'come inside' before you spoke, stepping to the side as he opened his door more for you, letting you into his space.
You didn't miss the way he locked the door after he shut it, making you smile to yourself. "Forgot something, Ken?" You asked, tilting your head at him knowingly as you revealed his lunch box to him, holding it out with both hands in front of him. Nanami sighed, a small smile gracing his features as he took the lunchbox from you, taking a few steps to set in on his desk before he walked back over to you and wrapped his strong arms around your body.
"You didn't have to bring it all the way here, I would've realized at some point and gone to a cafe to get something to eat." He explained, his large hand caressing the side of your cheek. Nanami's body heat spread throughout your entire body as he held you against his chest, nuzzling your cheek instinctually against his hand. "I made your favorite, wouldn't want you to miss out. I'm not doing anything today anyways, it was nothing." You replied, tipping your face against his hand so you could press a kiss to the side of his palm.
Nanami leaned his face down toward yours, his hand sliding down to your neck as he rested it there softly. His eyes flit between your soft lips and your gentle eyes, filled with so much love for him. "Mmmm." He moaned against you as he pressed your lips together, relishing how soft you felt against him. He kissed you slowly, passionately, before he pulled back, way too soon for your liking.Â
You felt that same throbbing you felt while you were fantasizing about the night before making its appearance once more as he looked down at you with a smile, brushing the stray hairs from your face. "Well, I appreciate it, my love. Truthfully I would've been slightly disappointed when lunchtime came around and I realized I wouldn't get to eat you're cooking." Nanami said, his hands pulling away from your waist as he made his way back to his desk, sitting down in his expensive office chair.
While you mourned the loss of his hands on you, your greedy eyes took in the way his thighs bulged through his pants as he sat down, the material covering them straining to fit his muscles. Maybe you should get him some new pants... or maybe not, the sight of them was too delicious.Â
Biting your lip, you strolled over to him as he looked back down at his documents, his glasses finding their home on the bridge of his nose. "What are your plans for the day? Just relaxing or did you need to go out for something?" Nanami asked, keeping his eyes on his paperwork. His body jolted slightly before relaxing when you came up behind him and started massaging his shoulders with your smaller hands.Â
Your fingers dug into his muscles, working him over so well as you loosened the knots in his shoulders. Nanami rolled his head to the side, pressing his lips together as his eyes fell shut, relaxing against your touch. You leaned against the shell of his ear, biting the tip of his before you whispered teasingly, "I was just going to wait at home all alone in my panties till my husband came home."Â
Nanami groaned in response, his eyes cracking open as he looked to the ceiling for help before he looked back down at his document when he realized what you were trying to do. "Don't do this right now." He said sternly, trying to ignore the heat that started to bloom deep in his stomach from your words. "Do what? I'm just helping you relax. I can't do that?" You replied, playing dumb.
Nanami felt his cock stir to life in his pants. He hated that he liked it when you played coy with him. "Honey, I have a lot of work to do. Was yesterday not enough?" Kento responded, his eyes fluttering when your thumbs dug into a particularly tense spot in his shoulders. You felt your arousal grow at his mention of what the two of you did last night. "I can never get enough of you Ken~" You teased, saying his name seductively in his ear.Â
"Honey please." He begged, doing his best not to give in to you. "Gojo is just one room over, I can't do this with you right now." He said firmly, his shoulders flexing under your hands when he leaned forward to start reviewing the documents in front of him. "Hm? Why are you bringing him up? What kinds of lewd things are you thinking about in there?" You teased, tapping the top of his head with your finger.
Nanami was already fully hard in his slacks, just from a few touches and a couple of dirty words from you. Your ability to rile him up like this was truly a talent, he was absolutely whipped by you. You peeked over his shoulder when he stayed quiet, looking down at the very obvious bulge in his pants as he wrote something unintelligible on the paper, trying to look busy.Â
"Are you hard, baby? I didn't even do anything, what got you so worked up?" You giggled, biting your lip as you watched his cock twitch through his pants, the sight making your mouth water. Nanami was losing his cool, he didn't know how much more of your teasing he could take. You decided to test your luck further, sliding your hands down his shoulders your ran them over his chest, your fingers teasing his solid pecs over his shirt.Â
Nanami groaned when you raked your nails back up the expanse of his chest, they scratched over his sensitive nipples, making his cock twitch in his pants. You were about to say something overconfident and snarky, but you were cut off when Nanami stood from his chair, shoved it to the side away from his desk, and turned around to catch your slender neck in his hand.Â
"You really wanna get fucked here? Want me to pause my work because my wife is a needy slut?" He growled lowly, keeping a firm grip on your neck as he brought his face close to yours, his other hand holding your waist firmly. The sudden change in his demeanor made your head spin as you smiled at him. You were getting exactly what you wanted. "Yes please." You said selfishly, your smile growing with your arousal as you kept your lidded eyes on your handsome husband's face, plastered with frustration.
Your hands came up to grip Nanami's wrist that was holding your neck as you waited for him to make his next move. He licked his teeth before he manhandled you down on the desk, your chest crumpling any of the documents that were unfortunate enough to be sitting in front of him. He kept a large hand on the back of your neck while your hands gripped the edge of the desk.
You could feel your heart beating out of your chest and echoing in your ears from how excited you were. You tried to turn your head far enough so you could watch Nanami undo his belt when you heard the clinking of the metal as he ripped the leather from the confines of the belt loops on his pants. "What do you think you're looking at?" Kento asked harshly, squinting his eyes at you as he hastily unzipped his pants to release his cock from the too-tight confines of his work pants.
"Your cock." You said boldly, your eyes locking onto the appendage as he pulled it out from his boxers, keeping his pants on but lower on his hips so his cock had enough space to get out. Nanami wrapped his hand around his dick, the tip already dripping pre-cum onto the floor from how worked up he was.Â
"You want this as bad as I do, don't you Ken?" You asked, wiggling your ass at him. You really weren't planning on jumping on Nanami like this when you decided to bring his lunch to him, but a single quick one over of his impressive frame in his work clothes managed to change that. "Shut up." He growled back, releasing his cock after he gave it a few strokes to pull down the casual pants you wore, panties and all, exposing your dripping cunt to the room.
"If you wanna pretend you're all angry with me you can, I like when you get rough." You teased, feeling a new wave of arousal wash over you when he exposed your cunt to the room. You watched from your peripheral as his eyes took in your soaked cunt, his thumb spreading open your folds to his greedy eyes. "And what makes you think I'm pretending, hm?" Nanami spat, the vein in his forehead popping out at your teasing.Â
He slid his thumb down to your clit, rubbing slow teasing circles over it, effectively shutting you up. The hand he had on the back of your neck tightened against you as he watched your jaw drop in a small o, your eyes fluttering back in your head. "So fucking easy, all I gotta do is touch your clit a little and you behave," Nanami said, his cock dripping pre-cum against your ass as he throbbed watching your face contort from your pleasure.
"'M n-not easy." You tried to spit back. Nanami was right though, the second he gave you any sort of attention, you were a good girl. He knew just how to calm you down. "No?" He asked, rubbing his thumb faster against your clit. "Look at yourself." He said, his fingers on your neck emphasizing his words with a squeeze to your pulse point.
You tried to press your thighs together as he rubbed your clit, but Nanami was having none of that. His larger thigh knocked your knees apart, keeping you spread open for him so he had full access to your pretty pussy. "You're gonna be quiet when I fuck you. Not gonna make a fucking sound." Nanami instructed, not giving you an option.Â
You nodded, agreeing to his words--but honestly, you would say anything he wanted you to if it meant he gave you his cock. You whined at the loss of his thumb against your pussy, but the feeling was soon replaced by the fat head of his cock, rubbing up and down your folds, mixing his precum with your juices, making sure his cock was nice and wet before he fucked you.
"Let me know you heard me, tell me you're going to be quiet," Nanami repeated, catching his head against your entrance and pressing against it teasingly before he pulled back, making you whine. "Yes, yes Ken I'll be quiet, just-, please." You begged, trying to push your ass back against him so he would give you his dick already.
"Please what?" He asked. You didn't miss the teasing tone his voice took, it was his turn to play with you now. "Y-your cock, give me your cock pleasee~" You whined, pouting against his desk as you tried to look back at him through your blurry peripheral. Nanami released the back of your neck to grab both of your wrists in his one large hand, keeping them restrained against your lower back. "So easy." He repeated, referencing his words earlier as he slowly slid his cock into your cunt.
Your jaw fell open agaisnt the wood of his desk before a loud moan slipped from your lips. Nanami wasted no time in wrapping a hand under your face and pressing his hand against your mouth, his back lying flush against yours as he crushed you with his weight, his hand restraining your wrists being crushed between your bodies, his mouth right against your ear as he spoke, "Be fucking quiet." He groaned, keeping his voice semi-quiet as he spoke.
"Two inches of my cock inside you and you break your promise?" He whispered, thrusting the rest of his cock inside you, a muffled moan resounding against Nanami's hand. "I wasn't fucking kidding. Gojo is right on the other side of that wall and you just moaned like a slut for everyone to hear." He growled, slowly humping his hips against your ass.Â
You let out soft moans against his hand, your eyes rolling back in your head each time his fat tip brushed against your sweet spot deep inside you. "You're my fucking wife. No one else gets to hear how you cry for me when I fuck you, got that?" He whispered, his deep voice in your ear sending goosebumps down your spine. You loved when Nanami got possessive, it made you feel so fucking hot all over.
You nodded against the desk, your pussy squeezing tightly around his cock as he fucked you open for him. He kept his weight against your back as he fucked you, his balls slapping against your thighs making lewd noises to echo around his office. He was too worried about your moans, he should've been more concerned with that. Anyone who walked by his room would easily be able to tell what was going on from the slapping alone, whether or not you were making any sound.
You did your best to keep your moans quiet as he pressed his hand against your mouth, but it was proving to be so fucking hard. It was rare that you and Nanami got intimate at any place other than your home, so you weren't used to having to be quiet. It wasn't like you had much of a choice either. Nanami was fucking you so hard, he was practically punching the sounds out of your body.
His cock was touching all the right places inside you, making you see stars behind your eyelids. "God your pussy is squeezing me so tight." Nanami groaned, his head burring in the crook of your neck as he whispered the words, his hot breath tickling your skin. "M-mmmm" You moaned into his hand, your ass wiggling back against him as you tried to escape the intense pleasure he was giving you--or were you trying to get more? You couldn't remember, he was fucking you dumb.
"What's wrong? Too much?" Nanami asked, faux sympathy laced in his voice. He sped up the pace of his hips against you, the slapping echoing louder in the room as he abused your g-spot with his cockhead. You could only whine against his hand, unsure what you would've said if he wasn't covering your mouth. "That's too bad. You wanted this, so you're going to fucking take it." He growled.
You whined, your legs shaking from the intense pleasure flooding your body. Nanami's balls were slapping harshly against your clit, making your brain turn to mush as he fucked you so deep. "Shhhhh." He reminded when you started to get a little too cockdrunk, forgetting where you were. His hand could only do so much in keeping your moans down, he needed you to help him out a bit. "Be quiet baby, do this one thing for me, c'mon." He urged.
You wanted to laugh. How could he say that, then somehow fuck his cock deeper inside you? Fucking tease, he knew what he was doing. You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt your orgasm build up inside you. All the stimulation was too much. Your hands started to go numb from how hard Nanami was gripping your wrists combined with his body weight crushing them. That was another thing--his body weight.
He was effectively suffocating you but in the best way. Each time his cock slid inside you, it punched the air from your lungs, and with how much he was laying on you, it was making it very hard to recover from his thrusts and take in a breath. It felt like he was choking you, but ten times more intense, and you loved it.
You think that's why your orgasm came on so quickly. The anticipation combined with how deep he was pounding into you was going to make you cum--and hard, all over his cock. "You got tighter...are you close? Hm? Gonna cum all over my dick right now?" He asked against your air, his deep voice only adding fuel to the fire as his soft lips sucked the lobe of your ear into his mouth, his teeth slightly pulling on it.
You nodded, your moans increasing in frequency but the volume stayed the same, you didn't want to anger Kento more than you already had. "Good, do it. Cum all over my cock, pretty girl, c'mon." He cooed into your ear, his own dick twitching inside you with his impending release as he kept the same pace up, working you higher and higher to your orgasm.
Your shins crossed over one another with the sheer intensity of the pleasure you were feeling. Your eyes screwed shut and your mouth fell open against his palm as it opened in a silent scream. "Yeah, that's it- oh fuckkkk, atta girl, good fucking girlll." Nanami groaned as he fucked you through your orgasm. Your moans sounded shaky as the rest of your body jolted as it was wracked with your high.
Nanami didn't have to look to know you had just squirted all over his cock, and undoubtedly all over his pants. "Gonna cum inside you, that's what you want right? Wanna feel me deep inside you?" He babbled against your ear, his thrusts becoming sloppy and stuttered the closer her got to the edge. He released the hand he had on your mouth so you could speak, he needed to hear you beg for him.
"Y-ess Ken c-cum inside me pleaseee~" You whined, your moans coming out slurred and choppy as he fucked you through the aftershocks of your high, slightly overstimulating you as he used your cunt to get him off. "O-okay okay- fuck c-cumming-" Nanami's hips stilled against your ass as his cock twitched inside you with every rope of cum he shot deep inside. His balls clenched with his cock as he released all of his seed inside you, groaning loudly against your ear--so much for being quiet.
"Oh fuck- there's s-so much." You whined back, keeping your thighs pressed together as he rolled his hips against you, letting your walls milk him entirely before he stopped moving. "God... fuck..." Nanami huffed as he came down from his high, his body crushing yours even more as he relaxed against you from such an intense orgasm.
He was still deep inside you and he could already feel how his seed was spilling out around his dick from how much he had given you. "K-ken... can't... breathe..." You whispered against the desk, your cheek being squished into the wood. Nanami quickly sat up, standing his full weight on shaky legs. "Sorry honey, that really took a lot out of me." Nanami groaned as he slowly pulled his spent cock out of your tight walls.
You hissed in overstimulation as he slid out of you. Your walls clenched around him in instinct, making him wince as your pussy hugged his tip before he slid it fully out of you. He reached over your body to grab the tissues on the side of his desk, grabbing a couple as he wiped his cock clean before tucking it back in his pants.
You layed still against the desk for a couple of seconds before you tried to push yourself up. You were quickly stopped by your husband, who pressed his hand against your lower back, keeping you on his desk. "Don't move." He instructed, to which you obeyed, blushing as you laid still against the wooden desk, your body still shaking and twitching from your orgasm.
You looked around the room as you waited for Nanami to do something. Your body jolted when you felt his tongue lap at your used cunt, his large hands gripping the fat of your ass as he spread you apart so he could clean you better with his tongue. You slapped your own hand over your mouth as he ate his cum out of you, making you whine in oversensitivity.
"K-kento!" You whined through your fingers, your free hand shooting back to rake through his sweaty hair, your head tipping to the side so you could make eye contact with his lidded eyes as he licked through your folds, cleaning you up. Nanami moaned in response, shaking his head against you so he could get his face deeper, tasting your combined essence on his tongue.
You blushed at his antics, moaning softly agaisnt your hand before he pulled away, standing as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, looking down at you innocently. "How's your cum taste?" You teased, smirking at him with a flushed face. He smirked back before he lifted your tired body and placed you on his lap, facing him, as he sat down on his office chair.
You adjusted your pants on top of him, covering your cunt with your pants and panties once more before he gripped your chin and leaned forward. You leaned into the kiss, your lips slotting together with his as he immediately slipped his tongue into your mouth, kissing you slowly. You tasted the familiar bitterness of his cum on your tongue, mixed with something else you could only assume was yourself.Â
He pulled away from the kiss after a few seconds, a small string of saliva connecting the two of you together as you gazed at him with a slightly slack jaw. "You tell me, how do I taste?" He asked, rubbing his thumb over your lip before he dropped both hands to your thighs, rubbing the skin there soothingly.Â
You blushed at how bold he was being, oh how the tables turned. You pouted at him as he smirked, rubbing his hands along the soft material of your pants. "Any chance this was premeditated and you brought an extra pair of pants for me?" Nanami asked, looking down at the very obvious wet spots on his crotch and thighs from where you squirted on him.
"Was that- did I do that?" You asked, looking down at the mess and blushing furiously. You don't know how you were only noticing it now, it was a massive dark patch, really. "Yes baby, you did that," Kento responded, nodding. You looked around the room for anything that could be suitable pants or at least something he could use to cover himself when he left for the day.
After your eyes found nothing, of course, because you were in Nanami Kento's office, the very organized man who only brought with him what was necessary--you looked back to him before speaking, "You uh... you wanna wear my pants?"Â
It was the thought that mattered.
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HATE THAT I LOVE YOU || part 3
mean!ryomen sukuna x fem!reader
It's already a part of Sukuna's personality to be mean, always throwing insults at every person he finds annoying here and there. And you were no exception. You ran after him like a lovesick puppy, happily smiling at his rejections, confessing to him multiple times how much you like him, and Sukuna wanted so much to strangle you for your persistence.
But when you stopped showing interest, maybe... just maybe, Sukuna didn't like the sound of it.
contents: sukuna x reader, soft!reader, reader is oblivious to sukuna's insults, mean!sukuna, golden retriever x black cat trope, reader is a happy pill (not to sukuna tho, yet), hurt/slight angst, modern college AU, sukuna is in a band, bassist!sukuna, not proofread, jjk characters in a band, siblings yuji and sukuna
warning: cursing
links: < part 1 > < part 2 >
***
You don't remember anything that happened last night.
Waking up with a throbbing head and no memories of what occurred when you were drunk was not something you were happy about. You were still dressed in your last night's clothes, your heels discarded on the floor, a blanket being over your body the whole time you were sleeping. You didn't even know how you still got home or how you even ended up on the living room couch, assuming that maybe Nanami took care of you because of the text he sent last night.
2:17 PM
Nanami: I hope you slept comfortably. Drink some water when you wake up.
You smiled at his message. Nanami is surely the gentleman out of everyone in the band, he really never forgets to take care of everyone.
So when Monday comes by, you immediately look for Nanami to thank him personally. It was during lunch period when you caught sight of the person you've been wanting to see, and without further ado, you ran after him as you called out his name.
Unbeknownst to you, Sukuna was just a few steps behind when he found you talking to Nanami. And the words that escaped your mouth sent his blood levels high.
âNanami! I wanted to say thank you for taking care of me last Friday night!â
âFriday night?â
âYeah? I was really drunk, but I do remember someone taking me home. And you texted me that morning too, so I concluded it was you. Anyways, thank you so muchââ
That's all Sukuna needed to hear as he walked right past the two of you, his eyes shooting daggers at everyone who walked in his way.
What he witnessed somehow left a bitter taste in his mouth. Like there's a poison corrupting his veins, eager to suffer him to death as he clenches his hand in a fist to restrain himself.
All Sukuna could do was walk away.
He couldn't accept how you dare to think that another man took care of you and drove you home. He couldn't believe how you're thanking another man right away, instead of clarifying who did what first, and he's just really going to hate you more for this.
âWait, what do you mean?â Nanami asked you with an evident confused look on his face. After rambling about how you appreciated his act of concern towards you last Friday, you finally focused on him and saw how he looked clueless about the situation.
âYou⊠took me home, didn't you? Because⊠I was really drunkâŠâ
âOh.â He nodded, now realising what you said. âIt wasn't me, though.â
âą
You were entirely confused by the situation now. Your feelings had tangled up in your mind and you don't know what to believe anymore when you saw Sukuna walking past you in the hallways.
The surroundings seem to quiet down as you focus your eyes on him. His figure, his stare, his inevitably handsome face. It's all coming back to you again. The beat of your heart, like a slow motion film everytime he walks by, and you feel like you're a teenager for these feelings.
You were about to open your mouth to talk to him, when he brushed you off so easily as he spared you no glance, walking right past your shoulder. Mouth agape, words left unspoken, mind wandering elsewhere, your cheeks blushed in embarrassment.
If he's the one who took you home after the party, then why is he not taking any credit for it?
Did he do it out of pity or something? Did he just feel bad to leave you alone in there?
You knew he didn't have any feelings for you, so maybe it is the latter. And after that, he doesn't care anymore where you thank him anymore, because that's just how he is.
Sighing, you clutched your bag in your hand and thought of another time to thank him still.
On the other side, Sukuna is mad mad. He doesn't even know why. He can't even explain it himself because he feels like it's nonsense.
It's like a feeling of wanting to throw a tantrum for all his bottled up feelings of anger at you, but if he did do such a thing, he'll come out whiny. Plus, only Yuji does that.
He just hates it. Everytime he looks at you, that anger starts becoming intense in some type of way. His hatred makes him want to lock you in his arms, and just⊠and justâŠ
Why is he thinking about this anyway?
He hates you for your annoyance. For your persistence. For always smiling at everyone. For always making his day feel incomplete if you're not there.
He hates you even more for thanking Nanami for something he had done. And he wants to knock some senses in you at some point.
He hates how you've changed. How you're slowly fading away from him.
He hates how he's maybe starting to feel different about you now.
âą
âYou might pierce a hole in her head if you keep staring like thatâŠâ Yuji whispered close to Sukunaâs ear. Sukuna flinched, but immediately hit Yuji with his elbow, leaving the latter hissing in pain.
The football field was yet again full of people. Girls would walk over and say hi to Sukuna and Yuji to where they sat at the benches, and only Yuji would have the heart to flash them his cheeky smile. While Sukuna watches you who had been sitting a few seats far away, your back facing them, focused on whatever conversation you have with your friend.
âTell me,â Yuji continues. âAre you starting to like her?â
Sukuna immediately turned his head to him with a glare. He scoffed, crossing his arms on his chest, âThat's total nonsense, Yuji.â
Yuji shrugged as he stared at you as well. âNot to me⊠You look⊠troubledâŠâ
âThat⊠has nothing to do with that foolâŠâ
Yuji laughs at his brother, shaking his head at his denial. âWhatever you say.â
âą
This is it. This is the right time to finally talk to Sukuna.
You breathed heavily as you wiped your sweaty palms on your clothes. Your heart was thumping loudly on your chest as you stood right before the band's practice room door.
You've been looking for Sukuna the whole day and ended up asking Yuji where he was, and this is why you ended up here. The door seems to dread a dark presence before it, looming an ominous aura within, or maybe it was just you over exaggerating things.
You nervously twist the door, and there you see Sukuna on his usual seat, legs spread apart, his face resting on his palms as he had his eyes closed. You almost backed away after realising that he was sleeping, but stopped when he opened his eyes.
âO-oh I'm sorry, I didn't know you were asleep!â You panicked, bowing at him repeatedly for your mistake. âI'll leaveââ
âDo you need anything?â His deep voice felt like thunder as it rang in your ears.
You purse your lips, feeling the heat rush to your face. You reluctantly nodded your head as you took a step inside the room, closing the door behind you.
âAbout last FridayâŠâ
Sukuna raised an eyebrow as he stood up, taking a step forward as he placed his hands on his pocket. âWhat about it?â
âY-yeah uhm⊠Thank you for⊠f-forâŠâ You started stuttering, your hands shaking on your sides. Sukuna's eyes landed on them, which startled you to clasped your hands together instead to keep them still, but it didn't really help.
âSay it.â He demanded, and it made you even more nervous because he was staring at you too intently.
âL-last Friday night⊠I want to thank you forâŠâ You take a breath to calm yourself down. âN-nanami said⊠you took me h-home?â
âAre you asking me if I did?â
You pinched your shaking hands, not expecting his question. âY-yes? Did youâŠ?â
âTsk.â He took a step closer, reaching out to grab your shaky hands with one hand. âWhat's gotten into the sunshine brat I know, hmm?â He asks, staring at your shaky hands between his. âNervous?â
âT-thatâs not the question, Sukuna.â
âAlright then,â he let go of you, bringing his hands back to his pocket. âI did. Happy?â
You closed your eyes at his answer, your breathing becoming uneven as you opened them again. Sweat is starting to form on your neck, âWhy?â
It was the question that had been running in your head for the whole time since Nanami told you that it was Sukuna. And you needed answers. At this instant.
âYou were drunk,â Sukuna answered straightforwardly. âDid you want me to leave you alone?â
âN-no! B-butââ
âDon't put too much ideas in your head.â
Your heart skipped a beat.
The world seems to start crashing down, and that's all the answers you need.
What were you expecting anyway? That magically, Sukuna started to care for you just because he had the heart to act like a person towards you? That maybe, he started to realise that his feelings for you were never hatred but it turned into something deep?
No, that's impossible. Liking you the way you like him was never in Sukuna's vocabulary.
So what now?
âRight!â You nodded your head with a smile. âI wasn't thinking of anything! I really just wanted to thank you, that's all!â
Sukuna searched your eyes, trying to read you. But you quickly feigned your disappointment as you grinned at him.
âI just needed to confirm that. Thank you, Sukuna! I should get going now. I won't bother you anymore.â You waved him goodbye as you ran out of the room, and when he was finally out of sight, tears started rolling down your face.
Sukuna, on the other hand, just stared off into space from where you left.
He was⊠undoubtedly, regretting his words.
***
Is the update too short? lol, ill make it up to you guys once im done with schoolworks!! i promisee đ part 4 will be up in idk when âșïž
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Begin Again
an: this has been a long time in the making and I think it's a favorite of mine.
Pairing: Peter Parker X Mean!Reader
Genre: Angst, fluff, enemies to lovers.
CW: harsh language, mental breakdowns, mentions of cheating (not peter)
Word Count: 24K
Summary: You've lived next door to Peter your whole life and the last nine years you've detested him. Now you're going through a breakup and it's nice to know someone's awake with you. Even if it is Peter Parker.
Breakups suck.
Thatâs it. Thatâs the whole message. Thereâs nothing else to add, except youâd never let yourself love again. Itâs not like you didnât know it wasnât going to happen, you were aware the entire year what it would lead into, but hasnât every girl sworn, at least once, they were the exception to a boys rule?Â
Natalie Greeneâs voice echoed in your mind, âdonât get involved with a senior boy. They move on and youâre left picking up the pieces in homeroom.â You didnât listen. You got involved and it was a good year, you knew he was going to college and when he left the break up was inevitable. Still, it didnât hurt as hard until three months into the school year he called and said he met someone else.Â
You wish you werenât so kind and understanding to him.
You called Natalie Greene the second it ended, she picked up and that angel voice of hers shined through the phone. She asked âhello?â three times before you sobbed. You could feel the empathy in her tone, âhe ended it, huh?â All you could do is squeak back, âstay right there babe, Iâm on my way with the break up kit.â Â
She showed up with a stray grocery bag. âalright,â she stated, hands on her hips.Â
âI got ice cream, a super soft blanket, movies - of all genres, face masks, a lighter-âÂ
âWhy do you have a lighter?âÂ
Natalie rolls her eyes with a goofy grin, âto burn stuff, duh.â
The gesture was nice, but you couldnât focus on the movie.
It felt like everytime you blinked there were tears that would find themselves tracking down your cheeks, you sniffled occasionally and blankly stared at the screen; flashbacks clouding your mind. Each kiss, each laugh, each touch, every fight and makeup, the first time you felt someone's hips melt into yours.Â
A supercut of every moment.Â
You were replaying a thousand things and all he was thinking about was the new girl under him, you were angry at everything all at once. Angry at yourself for letting yourself get hurt and feeling this much pain, because you knew it was coming, it was the whole agreement when it started. Angry at him for not breaking his promise and loving you anyway, angry at him for not telling you heâd wait for you and everything would be okay.Â
Angry that you hate him and yourself but more angry how quickly youâd fall back into him if he called.Â
âI knew this was gonna happen, Nat.â You sniff, a cry bubbles from your throat, âso why does it hurt so bad?âÂ
Your friend frowns, sheâs no savor to heartbreak. Sheâs been where you are more times than one could take, she still loves with her whole heart and you donât know if you could ever do it again. Natalie wraps her arms around your shoulders while you shake with a sob, you cry into her knowing you're matting her blonde hair but she just pats you and holds you close.Â
âBecause even though the ending was coming it didnât feel real until the book closed. And maybe a little bit because you hoped heâd change his mind.âÂ
You gasp, âhow do I get past this? Nat, it feels..âÂ
Youâre tugged into her so tight you can feel her collarbone against your cheek, âlike youâre dying? Yeah, that happens. But, youâll live. It doesnât feel like it now, but the day will come where you can think about him, smile, and thank him for the opportunity.âÂ
You snort, âfor breaking my heart?âÂ
Natalie Greene holds you as tight as she can, âfor making you grow.âÂ
Your shoulders feel like theyâre falling behind you as you inch along the hallway, everything feels heavy. Your feet are like lead blocks, and your heart feels like itâs been tied down with an anchor. It hurts more to know heâs not aching like this, he has someone new to keep him busy.Â
Blinking at your locker you fight back a yawn, two weeks after heartbreak and it still feels the same. You sleep like shit, tossing and turning and weird dreams when you finally dozed off. The one thing thatâs helped keep your mind away from him, was your neighbor. Every night, at 3:02 am, on the dot, you hear the same movements.Â
A window slams shut, two soft hops on the floor and three bumps against the wall.Â
For six nights straight you kept count, it was methodical. A nightly routine, you werenât sure what he was doing, but it was something. It made your mind wonder, your most recent theory was that he was a smoker; weed, cigarettes or whatever, and he would blow smoke out his window before landing in bed.Â
Maybe his bed was against your wall and thatâs why you heard so many small knocks.Â
Last night you stayed up, you waited and right on the minute, like you expected, you heard a window slam shut. A small grin crossed your face, not at him, but at the idea of a constant. You lost your reliable figure, heâs thousands of miles away with his own new person, but tonight, and for the last seven nights youâve had something to rely on. Something that couldnât go anywhere.Â
You blink and suddenly youâre staring at your open locker, you donât even remember putting in the combination. On autopilot you grab what you need for your next three classes and shrug your backpack down. Lately, it seemed like everything moved in slow motion.Â
âAre we ready to go to Flashâs party friday and makeout with a rando or are we still numb to everything?âÂ
Natalie smiles at your figure, when you slouch and give her a âhey, Nat,â her blonde hair bounces as she nods her head understandingly, âstill dead to the world, understandable.âÂ
âAt this point Iâd do heroin to feel something,â your deadstare makes her think you might be serious. âTell you what, if youâre still this miserable in six weeks, weâll do it together.âÂ
Your eyebrow quirks, âyouâd do heroin with me if Iâm still this miserable?âÂ
Natalie Greeneâs hand sticks out, her eyes ferocious. You know immediately she has something up her sleeve.Â
âSix weeks, starting today.âÂ
You have nothing else to go on except the nightly wake up call and Natalie Greeneâs plan.Â
âSix weeks.âÂ
Itâs solidified with a handshake, your fingertips turn white in her hold.Â
WEEK ONE.
Natalie Greene had talked you into going to Flashâs party, not to makeout with anyone, she quickly withdrew that from the table. You had been very hesitant at first, pushing at every restraint and reason to why you shouldnât go and she stopped you right there. Manicured hand and all, petite and poised, she stopped your path.Â
âHereâs why you should go: get fucking wrecked, absolutely smashed and let it all out. I promise you, babe, it feels so, so good.âÂ
âYou think that will make me feel better? Getting hammered at a house party on a friday night?â
âIâll take care of you for the night, okay? Iâll get you drunk and you can cry or scream or whatever you want. Let go of anything youâre holding back, thatâs why you should go.âÂ
You look her over, sheâs been your rock the last three years in the school. Natalie is different, she protects and cares for herself like she does someone else. She also gives out more of her heart than she should, but she appreciates the burn it leaves. She tells you itâs one more ache preparing her for the one who would never make it hurt again.Â
If Natalie Greene says itâll help, youâll listen.Â
âYouâll drive me home and take care of me the next morning? Hungover and all?âÂ
A denim jacket covered shoulder shrugs, âI think itâs time I repay you for all these years.âÂ
For the first time in two weeks a real smile crosses your face, itâs small but itâs there.Â
Flashforward two days later, youâre eight drinks in and feeling like youâre flying.Â
You sway against your friend, âand he,â you hiccup, âhe said he was like, soooo in love with me but then like, fuckin four days later,â it took you a moment to hold up the correct number on your hand, âboom, no boyfriend.â Natalie tried to hold back a laugh but her cheeks blew up when she let it escape, you pulled the most comical âwhat the fuck?â face.Â
âI mean who the fuck does that- a sick person. Thatâs who! And- And you know what?â you hiccup, âI thought Iâd be sad, but I just kinda hate him, does that make me bad?âÂ
âNah, I had some that killed me inside and some that I just shrugged off. Some moved in waves. One minute Iâd say âfuck him!â and the next Iâd be overwhelmed with sadness because I didnât have anyone to hold me anymore.âÂ
You blink at her words and swallow the rest of your cup, you hadnât thought about that part yet. Not having anyone to call yours anymore, thatâs the hardest hitting part. You really, really wanted to call him. Just one more time, maybe he misses you just as much, maybe he doesnât know how to say sorry, maybe heâs waiting for you to call.Â
âI should call him, right?â Your hands fumble at your pockets, your friend panics and grabs at your arms. âNo! No, no, no! You absolutely should not call him!â You whine, âbut what if he-âÂ
Natalie grabs you tight, it makes you look at her confused. Her tone takes a sharp turn, she breaks through your drunken stupor in a second.Â
âHeâs not. Heâs not thinking about you, heâs not missing you, heâs not sitting around wishing youâd call him, heâs just not. He broke up with you, you donât do that if you still care. Donât do that to yourself, it ended mature. You have to be mature now.âÂ
Brutal honesty. It puts everything in perspective.Â
He didnât miss you, and that⊠really, really hurt.Â
Natalie was right, it comes in waves. Because there comes that sadness, it starts with small blinks and suddenly fat tears skip down your cheeks. âYouâre right! He, he doesnât-â you take harsh breaths, for the first time in two weeks you had a full breakdown. Everything you held back bottled over, you didnât know how you could hold in so much hurt.Â
âOkay, okay. Letâs go, we can cry in the car but not here.âÂ
Your breath shook the entire way to the car, the moment you sat in the passenger seat you cried. Your voice cracked, âhe said he loved me!â Natalie nodded, cranking the engine, âAnd Iâm sure he did, babe. Sometimes these things run their course and itâs no one's fault.âÂ
It went like that the entire car ride, until she stopped at a McDonald's and got you a milkshake so you could focus on getting the liquid up the straw instead of saying the same three things on a loop. Once you got fries in your mouth the thought of him was erased from your mind, choosing to sing loudly and stick your head out the window on the way back.Â
Stumbling and giggling quietly at the late hour while you swayed on the walk to your door, you stretched freely and yawned when you stumbled in. Home alone for the weekend, just how it should be. âIâm getting naked,â you started stripping while walking to your room to change into pajamas, your heart lurches when you see one of his shirts.Â
You flop backwards on your bed, the room slightly spins and you close your eyes tight trying to ground yourself. Wriggling into the sheets you sigh, and yawn again. Your head buries into a pillow and sleep is imminent.Â
âSleepy?âÂ
Natalie Greene stands in the doorway with water and some advil, you smile and pat your bed, inviting her to join.Â
âNatalie Greene, you are so great, did you know that?âÂ
Your friend laughs, you nuzzle into her hand while she strokes your hair, âI did, but a reminder is always nice. Go to sleep, babe. Iâll make toast in the morning.âÂ
Her gentle touch makes it easy, you yawn one more time. Your voice flutters while you talk into sleep.
âDo me a favor?âÂ
âAnything,â she whispers. You donât think he ever loved you this soft. Â
âMake sure he gets home for me.âÂ
Natalie Greene asked who but all she received were soft snores.Â
The birds were screaming the earth back awake.Â
At least thatâs how it felt, your ears were ringing and there was a dull, present thud in your head. The sunlight has never been so bright, you hold your eyes shut but the ache gets louder and you canât get comfortable.Â
Thereâs two pills and half a glass of water waiting for you, god bless Natalie Greene.Â
âGood morning, sunshine!â You wince and choke on your gulp of water, a knife has pierced your eardrum. âOh my god, everything is on dial eleven, I think Iâm dying.âÂ
âHow are you feeling? Besides the obvious, I mean.âÂ
She means about him, you take a moment to really think about it.Â
âI think⊠I think Iâm doing okay.âÂ
Your friend smiles and throws her hair into a ponytail, âgood, Iâm making breakfast. Come join.âÂ
After ten minutes and infinite pep talk you rise on shaky knees, stumbling towards your door and barely making it to the couch where you spread wide and gulped for air. Your friend snorted at your exaggeration over her shoulder and carefully walked towards you with a piping mug of tea.Â
Sitting up you bring a blanket over your shoulders, you squint at her before taking the handle. Taking a sip while you turn the TV on, searching for a midmorning throwaway show. A re-run of The Wendy Williams Show wins, you rest your head on a cushion and stare blankly at the screen. Natalie Greene humming up a tune in the kitchen.Â
You hadnât even checked your phone yet, âwhat time is it?âÂ
âNoon thirty.âÂ
Your eyes widen, âmy god,â you mumble to yourself.Â
Listening to Wendy your eyes lull shut and suddenly you're sinking back into sleep, you roll over and smack your dry lips. Until your friend is kicking at your shin with two plates in her hands, stacked full of the breakfast nines.Â
Your queasy stomach grumbles and any drowsiness is ripped away with hunger. Nearly drooling, you stuff a piece of french toast in your mouth and moan, âNat, youâre the greatest thing I got.â She bounces her shoulder into yours, âI know.â Â
You fall into silence while you scarf breakfast down, booing and applauding when deemed necessary by Wendy. Leaning back you rest your hands over your full belly and pat gently. Swiping your tongue over your gums for any crumbs, you sigh happily.Â
âHey, what did you mean last night? You said to let you know if he got home safely.âÂ
You wave her off, âdrunk stupidness, I hear my neighbor every night around the same time moving around. This last week, I dunno, it felt nice knowing someone else was up too?âÂ
âHave you ever-âÂ
Both your necks turn to look at the front door then back at each other, the knocking that caught your attention continues.Â
âWhoâs-âÂ
âDid you-âÂ
You swallow and stand up, not so shaky anymore. Looking through the peephole your forehead hits the door at the sight of said neighbor, you know what they say about devils and appearing, groaning you take a moment to collect yourself and open the door.Â
âWhat do you want, penis?âÂ
Peter Parker in all his glory, is knocking at your door with a plate of⊠cookies?Â
Neighbors forever, close pals never. Youâd played together as kids, mostly elementary age but since you were eight youâve had a disdain for Peter Parker. Youâre not sure where it went wrong, but just looking at him you wanted to roll your eyes.Â
âI was going to say, âwow, how could a guy ever dump you?â but now, Iâd say thatâs how.âÂ
Normally that wouldnât hurt, but the recent circumstances made it a cheap shot.Â
âIs this your sorry attempt to be a rebound? Because if it is, I want to make it extremely clear Iâd rather eat glass than-âÂ
The plate is shoved into your face, âMay had me bring these over, she said your mom told her youâve been a weepy, miserable mess because some dickhead thought he found someone better.âÂ
You huff at him, your fingers wrap around his wristwatch as you pull it down, all you heard was weepy and miserable.
âI know you wouldnât know anything about someone loving you but-âÂ
âIs that Peter B. Parker?âÂ
Natalie Greene reminds you of your hangover in record timing, you wince at her shriek. Peter gives a polite, dare you say charming (?) smile. It makes you fight back a gag, âhello, Natalie Greene.â Her eyes flash from his, to the plate, to the cracked open door across the hall and she gets a wicked grin.Â
The person youâve hated and bickered with the most is suddenly the one you listen out for in the middle of the night. The look on her face, the glance she shared with you, proved she knew.Â
âCookies?â Natalie nudges your arm, âhe brought cookies and heâs right across the hallway, how nice.âÂ
Peterâs oblivious to her tone, he has his goofy smile on and it makes you seeth. Heâs always so god damn happy, itâs annoying.Â
âWell, actually, my aunt made them. But I am delivering, so I can accept some praise.âÂ
She laughs, full on cackles and nudges you again.Â
âYou know, in all the times you talked about Peter you never mentioned how funny he was!âÂ
You donât know what sheâs playing at but youâre shutting it down immediately.Â
Peter looks at you, he seems almost hopeful and you have to settle the urge to toss the plate to the ground. âYou talk about me?âÂ
You cross your arms and sneer, âdonât worry, nothing good.âÂ
His smile drops, âyeah, sorry. I donât know why..â his curls bounce as he gently shakes his head before pushing the glass into your chest. âHere, eat as many as it takes to feel somewhat okay again.âÂ
You grip the plate and look down, theyâre your favorite.Â
âWe, um. We have more over here, so if you want more. Or if you wanna hang out or something Iâm here, soâŠâÂ
Peterâs never been a friend like this before and it was some pity party you wanted no part of now.Â
âItâs a breakup. Iâm sure I can manage without you just fine.âÂ
His eyebrows turn in, âright. I just thought- nevermind, enjoy the cookies.âÂ
Natalie gives him a sympathetic frown and sulks back inside, you keep your glare on his figure until he reaches his door. As youâre about to retreat he stops in the doorway, âfor what itâs worth, I think heâs stupid and heâs gonna realize what he lost when itâs way too late.âÂ
Itâs almost nice, sometimes it sucks when the person youâre supposed to hate has human peek through their armor.Â
Too bad youâre more guarded than ever.Â
âWell, then. Itâs a good thing youâre not worth much.âÂ
Maybe itâs his resilience that troubles you, no matter how hard you push him away or beat him down with words heâll pick himself back up and hand your words back in a package of self reflection.Â
Today is no exception, Peter flashes you a sad smile, this one actually is filled with pity.Â
âIâm sorry youâre hurting,â you didnât have a chance to fire back. His door was already shut.
Heartache throbbed but the cookies were damn good.Â
On your third, you down half a cup of milk. You reach for a fourth and Natalie hasnât said one word. Instead she cleaned the kitchen and packed up her overnight bag, before settling next to you for an episode of Jerry Springer and her own deserved treat.Â
âSo, do tell, my friend. Is Peter the one you wanted to know was home safe?âÂ
Deny till death.Â
âNo way, Iâm talking about Mr. Harrington, heâs like a hundred years old.âÂ
Natalie takes her time chewing and swallowing, âyour hundred year old neighbor is up in the middle of the night?â
Itâs dumb to lie, you and her know the truth.Â
You shrug and take a fifth cookie, âhe may have a routine, I dunno.âÂ
Your friend hums, âI just thought it may be Peter, cause you share a wall and all.âÂ
Gagging at his name you shake it off, âGross! Itâs bad enough knowing the plate these were on were in his hands.â It takes you a second but youâre able to plow through another bite.Â
âI just⊠why do we hate Peter so much?âÂ
You donât know, you think you blocked it out. Every time you look at him a weird feeling bubbles up and it makes you want to scream, cry, fight and hug it out with him in one second. Itâs easier to bark at him than confront him about your feelings.Â
âI donât know. Heâs just a pest to me, every time I turn around heâs there. And I swear to god he spilled the beans about that party last year.âÂ
Natalie Greene knows three things to be true.Â
One: Peter Parker likes you, you just donât know it yet.Â
âWhat if you talked to him?âÂ
Cookie crumbs fall over your shirt as you talk, âIâm sorry, what?âÂ
Two: You like Peter Parker, you just donât know it yet.Â
âIf you need me and Iâm not around, if you need someone to support you through this and I canât be here, promise me youâll knock on his door.âÂ
You scoff at the idea, âyeah, sure.â sheâs not very confident you mean it.Â
âSeriously, promise me right now if I canât be there for you, youâll ask him.âÂ
She was serious, something in her tone made you shift and agree. Itâs not like sheâd go anywhere, Natalie Green was your lifeline.Â
âAlright! If you arenât around and itâs literally life or death, Iâll ask⊠him.âÂ
Three: Things get worse before they get better, you just donât know it yet.
WEEK TWO.
Your mornings always started the same, a routine was important to you. It was consistent. It was wake up, hit up the bathroom, change, yawn and rub your eyes through breakfast before leaving to thrive in silence before school.Â
Today, when leaving, right as youâre pocketing your keys, your neighbor speaks out.Â
âHey.âÂ
You freeze, itâs rare you run into Peter in the mornings. You figure he leaves way earlier, or later than you. But when you do, you ignore each other with silence. You really donât like the sudden change.Â
âHow are you doing?âÂ
You wonder if he heard you crying last night, you thought you got rid of it after the party. You didnât understand how you could be happy one moment and miserable the next. What made it worse was when 3:02 am hit and you heard his window slam, your sniffles settled.Â
âLike I was dumped, thanks for the reminder.âÂ
Your foot hits the first step when he calls out, âand the cookies?âÂ
Biting your bottom lip you turn, it really was a nice gesture. You may not like him, but you loved May and sheâs the one that put in all that hard work. Peter lights up when you face him, if he had a tail heâd start wagging it. It makes you bite down on your cheek, he doesnât deserve unprovoked rage.Â
âThey were really good,â you take three steps before turning back around.Â
âAnd, I uh, took your advice. Ate the whole plate, I mean.âÂ
Peter fumbles, his key chain drops but he stays looking at you. His thumb shoots behind him to point at his door, âwe have like, twenty left. Want some more?âÂ
You shake your head softly, âmaybe later?â Peter nods exuberantly, âyeah, yeah. Iâll bring them over.âÂ
You curl your lip up and stomp down the steps, âthanks for the warning, penis!âÂ
This was it.Â
This was your worst nightmare.Â
Not only did things get shuffled around until you were sitting next to Peter at dinner, where you made it a point to scoot your chair away from him when his shoulder touched yours and immediately swiped the area clean- But now you blinked blankly at your dinner while your mom droned on and on and on about the guy who dumped you. It didnât matter if it was good or bad, you just wanted her to stop.Â
âAnd he was so sweet, wasnât he? Honey, are you sure he hasnât reached out? Itâs not too late to call him, maybe if you-â May didnât deserve to see you upset, and it kills you that Peter saw that emotion. Your mom didnât even deserve it, you were so sick of trying to keep it together.Â
Your chair screeches with how quick you jump out of your seat.Â
âHe doesnât give a shit, he dumped me! So why do you think heâd call? He doesnât want me, I mean heâs made that clear right?â Your eyes shoot to Mayâs, âIâm right, right? You donât break up with someone if you still care, or want them, right?âÂ
Tears haze your vision, âhe ended it with me mom, and you know why? Itâs cause he found a new girl! He fucking-â water rushes down your cheeks but you donât stop, âhe,â you collapse on the word, you canât get a good inhale on breath.Â
âHe left me to pick up the pieces, thatâs all he did.â It clicked full motion, he left you behind and ended it. He got a fresh start and you were left trying to hold it together, like how it was, how it was supposed to be.Â
You sob, your chest has never felt so tight. Shaky breaths fade into sharp inhales, you canât fucking breathe. Gasping you put a hand over your heart, you know in the back of your mind itâs a panic attack but all you feel is imminent death.Â
Peter stands and blocks your body with his, you donât know whatâs happening but youâre trying to get away. Each step you take backwards he takes one forwards until you're wheezing in your room, your ears are ringing and it feels like a heart attack is in approach. Your eyes squeeze shut and in an instant you feel calmer, itâs not because of your sudden blink. Itâs because Peter has his hands over your ears pressing in, your back against the wall and front against his chest. Â
Itâs the last place you want to be but youâre angry, and heâs there, and itâs all coming out.Â
Youâre able to breathe but at what cost? You grip Peterâs shirt as tight as you could and wail into his chest, itâs the first time youâve ever actually felt him against you. Heâs more sturdy than you thought, as you push more and more weight on him he doesnât stagger one bit. His arms held you to him, keeping steady until youâd push him away.Â
âIâm sorry, Iâm so sorry,â you coughed the words into his shirt, you held tighter when his only response was resting his chin on your head. You apologized and cried until you ran out of tears and your breaths were nothing but sharp inhales.Â
When reality hits and you realize you've been crying into Peterâs hold for minutes you push him away and wipe your nose. Avoiding his eyes, you look to the carpet, you have a fresh cry glow and mindset, itâs the good kind of emotional numb.Â
âI, um, I still have those cookies?âÂ
Those being his choice of words after a troubling breakdown was warming, it made you feel like you werenât so crazy. Or at least, Peter didnât see you as crazy, which when thinking about didnât mean much.Â
You canât help but laugh, itâs so loud and opposite of every other emotion you spilled tonight it makes him jump, you see him setting up for the attack. The moment you snap at him and call him a weirdo for cornering you and throwing himself on you.Â
Tonight, you were full of surprises.Â
âYeah,â you nod your head and wipe your nose one last time, âIâd love to come over for cookies.âÂ
You had to look away from his smile, it was too blinding.Â
You broke the rule, you went lurking and hurt your own feelings. Sheâs all over his instagram, and sheâs pretty. Heâs all over hers, dating back to five months ago.Â
You do a double take, five months?Â
He had been cheating on you for months before he ended it. You feel sick. He told you he loved you while he was in bed with another girl. You felt so much rage inside you couldnât hold it in, Natalie was too far away and Peterâs already seen you at your worst.Â
You move without thinking, slamming your fist on his door.Â
Wide eyes open it, Peter would be lying if he said he wasnât scared he was the subject of attack. You swerve past him, if you were in a cartoon, steam would be billowing from your ears. You didnât get angry often, and youâve never felt upset enough to punch someone, but all you could think about was screaming and slamming your fist into the wall.Â
âI hate him, I fucking hate him so fucking much. If you ever hear me crying I need you to come over and tell me Iâm absolutely pathetic for crying over a fucking cheater.âÂ
While heâs glad youâre not there to yell at him, his heart sinks for you.Â
âIâm so sorry.âÂ
âIt was right in front of my face, too. Sheâd been claiming him since the second week of school. Iâve been a fool, god, I fucking hate him. I hate him so much I⊠I want to break something.âÂ
Peter eyes his science notebook, he doesnât have anything for you to break, but he has something that will make enough noise to drown out the voices. He grabs it and holds it out, you gently take it giving him a confused look.Â
âWack it. Beat the absolute shit out of it on the counter.âÂ
You look unsure, you donât want to ruin his things, even if you donât like him.Â
âRight on the edge, go on, do it.â His egging you on makes you follow his command, itâs gentle.Â
âHarder,â you test it.Â
âHarder,â you give a smack, it makes a popping sound and you jump, it feels good.Â
âLike you mean it, like you need it.â You do it again, itâs louder. You strike down without instruction, Peter starts barking at you, it makes you angrier.Â
âHarder, donât be so weak!â
He hit the right nerve, you canât stop, youâre moving so quick and using so much force the spine starts to rip from the cardboard. It feels good destroying something, it makes you beat the laminate harder. Loud cracks echoing from the walls.Â
You heave for air, every bit of force directed into your diminished trust. You yell between each blow.Â
âFucking!âÂ
âPiece!â
âOf!â
âShit!âÂ
You start to slow down, Peterâs notebook is fucked. You feel bad. Gasping for air when youâre done, Peter gives you a head nod, âbetter?âÂ
You nod, âlots. Sorry about your book.â He doesnât look bothered in the slightest, âitâs a good excuse to get a new one, I hate green.â You peer over the contents in the pages, âthatâs a lie, everyone knows science is green.â Peter laughs, he nods like heâs saying âyou got me there.â âDoesnât mean I like it though.âÂ
Looking down at the notebook, you peer up at Peter. He looks soft, the sleeves of his zip up hoodie covered his thumbs, he has sweater paws. His hair framed his face nicely, his cheeks have a natural pink hue, itâs like heâs always sunkissed, or calming down from a laughing fit.Â
The sun is backlighting him perfectly, it makes his eyes look even more honey golden than they already do. You donât know why you find him slightly cute at the moment, it makes your stomach tug and not in a good way. The last time you thought someone was cute you got burned, and youâve always had a disdain for Peter.Â
Peter was the worst kind of rebound to have because you canât decide whoâd get more hurt from it, and the thought of that makes you want to avoid him forever.Â
âYouâre looking at me funny.âÂ
You are, itâs because youâre noticing him for the first time, at least since you were eight. Suddenly you can remember why you cut him out when you were a kid.Â
âI had a crush on you when we were younger. I think thatâs why I stopped being your friend.âÂ
Your confession made Peterâs eyes widen, he looks to the ground and hides his smile. When he picks his head back up he looks to the side, his cheeks a bit more flushed than normal. âThatâs cute.âÂ
It was. It was innocent and juvenile, his small response made you laugh. âYeah, it really was.â You shouldnât entertain it any further, but you canât stop. Something about seeing his blush makes you want to keep going, âWanna know when it started?â He looks curious, âsure.âÂ
You go quiet for a minute, you havenât thought about it in years. The moment it clicked you were freaked out, the first time you liked a boy and he was your best friend. You went from wanting to play in dirt to holding his hand. A smile spreads over your face when you watch the memory replay in your mind.Â
âWe were at the complex playground and we were digging by that droopy tree across from the swingset, and I saw a lizard in the grass and I pointed it out to you. I told you I always wanted to hold one but they moved too fast and scared me, but you held out your arm and said âI got this.ââ You laugh, replaying it once more.Â
âAnd you dive bombed and picked it up, and you were so fucking proud to have caught it. Then you placed it in my hand but I felt it move around and freaked out, but you held your hand over mine and said âdonât be scared.ââÂ
Thereâs something about an eight year old Peter Parker with glasses and dirt smudged cheeks that had child you giddy.
Peterâs smiling, itâs like heâs reliving that day in his head too. âI fulfilled your lifelong dream and you fell for me.â You shrug, âmaybe.â Setting his notebook on the counter you look around, you feel like youâve said too much.Â
âHey, um, thanks for the whole⊠unleashing my anger thing.â You're setting yourself up for a goodbye, Peter can sense it.Â
âAre you hungry? Wanna go get some pizza?âÂ
No matter what was said, or thought, you still have that pinch of annoyance at him. But his brightness was what you needed today, and you hadnât had lunch. You have a sinking feeling youâd regret it, there was something that felt like it was a bit more than friendly and it had you throwing up every wall possible.Â
Still, you find yourself agreeing.Â
âSure. Letâs get some pizza.âÂ
It was a stereotypical pizza place and those were the best ones. The wall is covered in pictures of random people, terrible paintings and red checkered tablecloths covered wobbly tables. They had a permanent sticky residue, your elbows peeled when you raised them up.Â
âIâm surprised you didnât judge me on my hawaiian choice.â He always did, he told you it wasnât authentic and childish.
âHey, Iâm a pizza guy, alright? Anything you put on a pizza belongs on it. I mean, I get the appeal, sweet and savory.â Your face brightens, he understands. âExactly! And the warm pineapple just hits differently, itâs like-â Peter can read your mind, you say it at the same time. âFries and ice cream.âÂ
Another thing he found gross, your head tilts, it just kind of clicks with Peter. Your ex would sneer when youâd go for a dip, you begged him to try it a hundred times, you promised heâd like it but heâd tell you it was âfucking grossâ.Â
âHawaiian and pepperoni, can I get you kids anything else?â You shake your head while Peter responds for the both of you, âno thanks, weâre good.â Peterâs slice has a pool of grease in a slice of his pepperoni, it looks delicious. He sees you eying his choice and holds it out, âyou want a bite donât you?â Your eyes flash to your slice, âonly if you take a bite of mine.â Itâs only fair. âSwap with me,â you trade plates and tap slices as a cheers, humming when you take a bite Peter nods impressively.Â
You swap back and take a bite of yours, itâs heavenly. âIâm glad I got mine.â Peter agrees with the statement, âIâm sorry, babe, but pepperoni is superior. Itâs all about keeping it simple.â You know he meant nothing by it, you know it meant it in a friendly way, you know itâs a regular pet name to use in passing, but he called you babe.Â
Hearing the term of affection makes your skin crawl, you swallow a lump in your throat. You want to snap at him, but instead your voice comes out soft. âPlease donât call me that.â Peterâs eyes soften, he almost tells you he didnât mean it like that, but he knows you already understand that.Â
âNo problem, old lady.â It took a second, but you couldnât stop the laugh. âWhat did you just call me?â Peter bites his bottom lip, âwell, thatâs the opposite of babe, isnât it?â It makes your smile bigger, itâs funny, if you had asked him something that simple heâd fight you on it, ask a million questions and push it until you gave up.Â
For the first time in a month you really canât remember why you thought he was so great.Â
WEEK THREE.
Natalie Greene has her hair pulled slick back in a ponytail, a determined look and hands on her hips.Â
âLetâs fuck some shit up.âÂ
Lunch with Peter had really pushed you forward, you had strayed away from him the last few days. You still listened for him nightly but avoided him in the hallway and at school, he was everything he was not, and it made you feel queasy.Â
It was time you removed him from your life, you started with blocking him on everything. From instagram to duolingo. Then, you piled up everything he left behind or things that reminded you of him, but you couldnât touch your closet. You couldnât bring yourself to do it. Enter Natalie Greene.
âI donât know why itâs so hard for me, everything else was fine.â Natalie shrugs, your closet doors are open and sheâs itching to start rummaging. âItâs not for me. What are we thinking, trash, donate, burn? Dare I say detonate?âÂ
You snort, âthink I could do some black magic?â Her eyes light up, âIâll look up the dark arts right now, donât dare me.â You sigh, âI donât care what you do with them, I just need them out of here.â Natalie Greene understands, sheâs been there too a few times. Everything that reminds you of him burns like hell. A constant reminder of whatâs no longer.Â
Itâs only five shirts and some sweatpants but it feels paralyzing. Once his clothes are gone heâs no longer, like the last year never meant anything. He cheated but you still feel like it was real for the time you had him.Â
âShit, can we raincheck the disposal?â Natalie is staring at her phone in her hand, a worried line where her lips were. âFamily stuff.â You tell her itâs fine and send her out in a second, staring at the bag you started to twitch.Â
It felt daunting- a looming presence. You almost got rid of him but couldnât. It was five minutes of harsh breathing, then you drag it across the hall hoping Peter was home. You needed them gone.Â
 May answered the door and you feel slightly flustered.Â
âHi, May. Is Peter home?âÂ
She welcomes you in the door, skipping over the makeshift laundry bag and giving a quick but squeezing hug. âHow are you feeling?â If you had been asked that a week ago youâd fly off the handle, but this week it feels like you can breathe a bit better.Â
âI think Iâm doing pretty okay. It helped to know he cheated, it makes me miss him sixty percent less. The other forty makes me feel pathetic.â May frowns with empathy, âmy college boyfriend cheated. Betrayal and hurt is a weird feeling when mixed with love.âÂ
You laugh, âyeah, it really is.â May clears her throat, âPeterâs in his room, he may be busy with some homework.â You thank her and move down the hallway, the plastic bag follows, half of you hopes it rips because itâs what he deserves.Â
You knock and wait for his response, grunting when you swing the trash bag over the threshold and let it drop. âI have an odd request for a man.â Peter seems surprised to see you for a second, then looks at the bag and back at you. He seems a bit more weary.Â
âUh huh.âÂ
âIâm getting rid of his things and Nat had to dip, wanna come with?â You follow up with a wince, âIâm sorry, this is super weird and out of place.â
Peter shrugs, âif it helps, it helps. And if youâre serious, Iâll go with you.â You take a deep breath, healing and growing isnât always comfortable. âFuck it, letâs donate some shit.âÂ
You feel like you stand straighter walking out with Peter behind you, heâs carrying the dead weight and you feel accomplished. May has a raised eyebrow, you hold out your hand and settle her curiosity.Â
ïżœïżœDonât worry, justice is about to be served.âÂ
May grins at her nephew's soft smile, sheâs seen and heard about you more in the last two weeks than she has in the last nine years. âItâs sounding a lot more like twenty percent.âÂ
The moment things started turning south was at the donation center. You werenât even standing super close to Peter, or radiating an aura that even suggested he was anything more than a conveniently close acquaintance. But the volunteer at the front thought differently.Â
âAw, I wish more young couples came in, it always seems to brighten up the place!âÂ
You feel like a force of wind caught you breathless, every inch of you froze on the spot. When she says couple you think of him, but youâre not a couple anymore. When she says âcoupleâ you feel your heart encapsulate with rubble, the idea of him makes you feel sick.Â
You donât think you could ever love again.Â
Especially not with Peter, not even when he shies away with pink cheeks and tries to shrug her comment off. Itâs not worth the awkwardness of announcing youâre not a couple, you both know youâre not, and she doesnât really care if you were or not.Â
âWe were just in the mood to donate today,â he plays it off well. You chew on your lip and watch him fill out the donation slip, itâs second nature for Peter to take care of you, it was something he mostly failed at.Â
Before the attendant can take the bag, Peter stops her by hovering his hand over it, he turns his neck and makes eye contact. âAre you sure you want to do this?âÂ
Your heart pounds, threatening to crack the rock.Â
âIâm sure.â Because, you really are.Â
Peter smiles, âany last words?â You try to think of something, nothing comes to mind other than a blur of frustration and confusion. Raising your hand you give it the middle finger, Peterâs laughing at your blank face, âcâmon, you know you wanna double it.â You do, so you did.Â
It feels freeing, youâre not healed but you donât have a daunting weight on your shoulders anymore. A satisfied smile spreads, your hands drop for a second before Peterâs high-fiving you. Youâre tucked under his arm after saying his thanks to the confused volunteer, bumping your hip against his and caged in his hold you feel safe. Safer than youâve ever felt.Â
A crack in the rocks, your heart thumps wildly when he drags you opposite from where you came. âLet me buy you a hawaiian.âÂ
Peter is pretty. You could admit it. Never out loud, but youâd admit it silently. Heâs on fire tonight, keeping you laughing and talking. Heâs a perfect story teller, he has a way of pulling you in. Heâs charismatic and throws himself into every role, voices and body movements.
Your chin is resting on your hand while you focus on every word of his, entranced in his excitement. A lamp hanging over your mini booth makes him look a tad yellow, but his eyes shine brighter than all hell, you never knew brown eyes could suck you in for hours.Â
For a second your mind blips and you truly canât remember his eye color. But you know theyâre nothing like Peterâs.Â
You forget to react, because Peter cut himself off and waved his hand in front of his face. You blink alert, he has a very charming smile, you look at a table of older women. âYou good? Felt like you were trying to look into my soul.â
You canât stop it, it's a knee jerk reaction and the moment you say it you regret it.Â
âYour eyes are very pretty.â You wonât stop looking at a slice of mozzarella on a grandmaâs plate. Peter hums, nodding his head like he understands, âso you werenât trying to sacrifice me, you just got lost in my very pretty eyes.â
The crack splinters, a chunk falls off. You meet his eyes, heâs not making fun of you. You sit straighter and reach out to steal a piece of pepperoni from his slice, acting like youâre not blatantly flirting with ease.
âI just havenât noticed them before I think.âÂ
Peterâs quiet for a moment, his arms are crossed on the table, fingers tap on his elbows.Â
âWell, Iâm glad you are now.â Itâs a little too much, heâs not allowed to entertain you back, he could hurt you too.Â
You clear your throat, âI need to ask you something.â Peter stops tapping, itâs like heâs been waiting on you to say it. âYeah, anything.âÂ
You lean forward a little, âdid you tell my mom about the party last year?â He looks slightly disappointed that was your question, ânope.â Your eyes narrow, âIâd rather us not start a friendship built on lies.âÂ
Peter lights up, âfriendship?â A displeased expression was shared, âthin ice, Parker.â He seems a bit more determined to tell the truth this time.Â
Peter sits up and interlocks his fingers, âI promise I didnât tell her. Mr. Harrington did. And I know how much you like him and I thought you would stop going to see him if you knew and heâs super old so I just kinda⊠let you believe it was me.âÂ
Your heart breaks free, itâs loud and pumping and itâs making you feel alive. A sense of urgency to do something to him makes you itch, you have to pull your hands to your lap. In that second, for whatever reason, all you want is to feel his skin on yours.Â
Heâd be willing to do anything for you, even at the cost of you hating him.Â
âYouâre the most selfless person I know and itâs kind of insufferable.â Peter rolls his eyes, âjust admit you like me, god.â Your breath stutters, but you move right past it.Â
âYeah, yeah, yeah, keep talking about the petting zoo.âÂ
Peter jumps back into character, âalright, so Iâm down on-â
For the first time in weeks you slept through the night, until three am. You woke up on your own, a mental alarm had you looking out for him. After you hear the comforting chorus of movement, you hide under your pillow and go back to sleep.
Your world is falling apart. You were on the track to healing, each piece of your heart was slowly mending back together. Until news of Natalie Greene going out of town hits, you collapse to your bed with an arm over your eyes. Facetime carries her into your room.
âWhy couldnât your grandma die next month?â She nods her head, folding a tank top to drop it into her carry on. âSo true, she shouldâve known you were having a crisis.â You nod, âitâs so hard knowing the world doesnât revolve around me.âÂ
The room goes quiet as she moves around and packs. You contemplate telling her, you didnât want a spectacle and you didnât even know if or what you wanted from Peter. But damn if you hadnât been thinking about it for days. You wonder if sheâs picked up on the hints, youâd been relying on her less and less.Â
âAre you going to hang with Peter while Iâm gone?â Your mind flashes to him, the past few nights heâd sent you a few videos that he thought youâd like. And you did, even if he didnât know you as deeply as he has until recently, he still makes you feel seen.Â
He would send you things he found funny.Â
Peter sends you things he knows youâd find funny.Â
âMaybe. He buys me pizza so heâs cool to have around, I guess.â Natalie Greene snorts, âand Iâm sure he makes fun of your pineapple.â It feels like your heart shines, âno, actually. He gets it.â Your eyes flash to the top of the screen, a text from Peter pops up, you waste no time hitting the notification.Â
âWanna come have some brownie cookies?âÂ
You bite your lip, rising from your bed you shuffle into your slippers. âHey, Nat, I gotta go. Iâm really sorry about your grandma.â She rolls her eyes, âshe was super old and I didnât really know her, itâll be cool to see my cousins though.âÂ
âHave fun on the trip!âÂ
A wicked grin, âhave fun with Peter.â You donât even fight her on it, she knew exactly what you were doing.Â
Your knuckles tapped on the door, it was opened in seconds. Peter had a glow like youâve never noticed, he only got more and more pretty. A smile stretched across his face, you love how it always meets his eyes.
âHi.âÂ
Your slippers softly scrape the wood floors when you enter, âhi.â Peter gestures you towards the kitchen, and for whatever reason, you reach behind you and tug him along.Â
âOkay, okay, so what did she say?âÂ
Your legs swing on the counter, mumbling between mouthfuls of the dessert fusion youâre fully invested in Peterâs story. He had caught Mrs. Hopkins and the chef that lives on floor two in an argument, and it turns out Mrs. Hopkins was the complex's porch pirate.Â
Peter swallows his own bite, âshe asked me to back her up! And I was all like, âhell no, you stole my auntâs juicer.ââ You gasp, ânot Mayâs juicer.â Peter holds a finger up, ânah, I caught her red handed. She was so pissed and on the spot she snapped at me like, âit wasnât a juicer, it was a butter dish.âÂ
You slap a hand over your mouth, âoh no.â Peterâs eyebrows raise, turning his back to grab a glass of milk. âI wish you couldâve seen the look on her face when she realized she told on herself, it was awesome. She was spewing shit all the way to the elevator.âÂ
Finishing your treat your tongue feels thick, holding out a hand in a silent request for a swig of his milk. Peter looks between your hand and his glass, he looks weary.Â
âAre you sure you wanna drink after me? I figured youâd be scared of my cooties.â You motion for the cup, he passes it over and you wrap your palms around the glass.Â
âOh, you absolutely have boy cooties, they just become non-contagious at puberty.â Peter runs his tongue over his teeth, âI think I forgot that lesson, what else can I expect from puberty?â You laugh on a gulp of milk, âtrust me, Parker, puberty hit you like a bus.Â
He steps closer, you set the glass down next to you.Â
âIs that a good thing?âÂ
You look over his face, heâs got a defined bone structure but soft features. A boyish charm coats over him, itâs just enough of a hint of innocence you beg he never loses it. Itâs a no brainer, he was attractive, your eyes flash to his mouth, itâs a wild instinct and you try your best to shake it off.Â
âYes. Iâd say puberty was very kind to you.â Peter takes another step, âhow so?â Pretending to think about it, like you werenât already, you take a second to respond. You donât notice him taking another step.Â
âWell, you have a nice jawline.â Peter tilts his head slightly, âis that all?â Youâre not sure what it is, but thereâs an undertone and it fills you with excitement.Â
âAnd very nice curls.âÂ
âI donât think that has anything to do with puberty.â You suppose heâs right, âyouâre taller than me now.â You had an inch on him when you were kids. Peterâs suddenly right in front of you, âespecially now.â He has to look down at you while you blink up at him from the counter, âyeah, youâre like a giant.âÂ
Your mind betrays you, his lips are unnaturally pink, they look like theyâre the right amount chapped. âAnything else?â Youâre struggling, all you can think about is him but you canât follow a train of thought.Â
âYou smell really good,â you take a deep breath when his hands rest on either side of you, heâs caging you in and everything builds with anticipation, you fight the urge to pull him in. âYouâre just complimenting me now.âÂ
You shake your head, âdo you know how many teenage boys smell bad?â Itâs not your fault, heâs so close his scent has invaded your senses, you wanted to inhale him until you turned blue.Â
âOne more.â You try to think, heâs making it very hard. It takes a second but you have one, proud to have pulled it from the chamber, a sly grin takes place.Â
âYou-â Lips on yours, it happened so fast you couldnât catch up. Mind spinning when you realize Peter Parker was kissing you, you know you should shove him off, but it feels right. Itâs over as quick as it started.Â
You just got out of a relationship, one that tugged you to one of the lowest points of your life so far. Itâs not lost on you when you werenât the one to pull away, but youâre the first one to comment on it.Â
âYou shouldnât have done that.â You werenât mad, you were warning him, he doesnât know what lies ahead.
âBut I really wanted to.â His eyes keep looking you over, was he expecting you to scream?Â
Itâs dangerous territory, your voice feather soft when it comes out. âAnd do you want to again?â Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea.
It felt like the air went still in the room, everything slowly melted into the background until it was only you and him. The quiet hum of the air conditioner faded into silence, the scene music from a movie on the tv in the room behind you diluted to nothing.Â
It was just you and Peter, and he was getting closer. It was achingly slow, you know what heâs doing, heâs giving you a chance to escape. Bail before it became too real, but has he thought about the possibility of you leaning closer?Â
What are you doing?
His lips hovered over yours, when you closed your eyes he took it as permission.Â
Youâd always heard of the fireworks, that kisses are like explosions of happiness. And they were, and you loved them, but there were no fireworks. At least with him.Â
With Peter, your entire sky brightened. Little prickles of electricity dolly chained up your spine, an explosion of color in your mind. It made you starving and whole in one touch, his body made to fit against yours perfect.Â
You wonder if he has the same feeling, you think he does when his hand cups your face, the other one tugs your hip so you fit him better. Itâs bold of you, but when you feel that entranced you donât know how to stop. Your tongue swipes on his bottom lip, itâs very clear he doesnât know what to do.Â
You pull away for air, Peterâs pupils blow wide before looking at the floor. His head feels like itâs spinning, the girl heâs always wanted, wants him right back. Peter feels very aware of his surroundings, how hard his heart is pounding, how youâre holding him to you, how youâre tracing his bottom lip with your thumb, how youâre leaning back in, how heâs holding you into him.Â
You take the lead, itâs slow but you build his confidence, heâs a quick learner.Â
In minutes youâre nearly laid back on the kitchen counter, youâre about to suggest he takes it to his bedroom, but the thought of breaking away from his kiss keeps you stationary. Peterâs locked to you too, your legs hooked around his waist, keeping him as close as he could get.Â
All you can think is Peter, Peter, Peter.
He claims he doesnât know much, but it feels like heâs intune with your body. Peter matches you perfectly, you never knew a makeout session could bring so much tension. A moan pulls from the back of your throat when his thumb peeks under the cotton of your shirt.Â
Peter breaks the kiss, little huffs of air billow from your mouth while he kisses down the side of your neck. When he finds the spot that makes you squirm he nibbles gently, a hand tangled at the back of his hair lets him know heâs doing something right.Â
Especially when you arch into his touch as his hand confidently slides under your shirt, digging his fingers into the plush skin over your ribcage. âFuck, Peter,â itâs breathy and eggs him on, he wants to hear nothing but that for the rest of his life.Â
Caught up in the moment neither of you heard the door, or noticed the third person in the room, until shock spewed from their mouth.Â
âOh, wow!âÂ
Peter rips himself away, his instinct is to hide your face into his chest. Youâre grateful, it saves the embarrassment of looking his aunt in the eye after she watched you fold under his hands. Peterâs mind is racing, his only priority was keeping you comfortable.
Fuck, he kisses so sweet. Shut up! Â
âHey, May. Get anything good at the farmers market?âÂ
Blatant ignorance and casual conversation was the route he took, and it seemed to have worked. Cloth bags hit the counter, you stay hidden, Peterâs hand pressed into the back of your head. Heâs sturdy, your head lays perfect on his sternum, it was made for you. No, stop.
âYes! I got more of that european bread we really liked.â As much as you would like to be ignored, May wouldnât let you. A pat on your knee sent your arms curling around Peterâs waist, he tried his best to settle the clench of his heart.Â
Fits perfect, fits perfect, fits-
âYouâd love it, itâs roasted garlic, real pieces too!âÂ
It may be rude to ignore the owner of a home, but you werenât looking at her for another ten lightyears. At least you give a muffled response into Peterâs chest, âsounds good.â May giggles a little, you hear the fridge open and rustling.Â
âAre you gonna hide from me forever?âÂ
If Peter could play pretend, so could you. You pushed him away softly, âPeter made brownie cookies.â May raises an eyebrow, directing her attention towards her nephew. âEver since that first plate of cookies Peterâs been baking like itâs his job.âÂ
Heâs perfect.
âYou made the cookies?â Peter had told you May did, youâre sure of it. He nods quickly, âI figured if I told you, youâd think they were poisoned.â
You want his touch, you want him pressed into you again. This has to stop.
Itâs dramatic, but youâll bite. âSmart boy.â Peter has a gleam in his eye, âI really am.âÂ
May knows when sheâs third wheeling, she makes an excuse to move to the living room, Peter nods towards his room. You accept his hand down and look behind you at the door. He was frustratingly magnetic, you wanted to do nothing more than fall into bed and stay forever attached to his lips.Â
It was a new rush of feelings, most of them new and almost dangerous. You wanted to explore and learn and take some of Natalie Greeneâs advice and grow. But more than wanting, you knew you had to leave.Â
You were still healing, and if it hurt this bad with him, where nothing felt like this, you canât imagine the burn this could leave.
âI should go,â you canât look him in the eye, heâd suck you back in. Youâd never be able to leave, you have to leave.
âIs this because of May? Cause we can leave and..â You shake your head fast and take a step back, heâs too kind, too understanding, too new and thrilling and, and⊠loving. You donât deserve him or what he brings, you canât bear the imagination of what his heartbreak would feel like.Â
âNo, not May.â There was only one thing that kept you from him before, you were still pulling the same childish tricks. Something about Peter Parker caused you irrational terror.Â
âI told you, you shouldnât have done that.âÂ
Peter tries to look at you, you take another step back. âYou asked if I wanted to do it again.â He canât use logic, it wonât work here. âThat didnât mean do it again.âÂ
âYou sure? Cause it really seemed like you wanted me to do it again.â You feel choked for air, heâs backing you into a corner.Â
âYou understood wrong. I need to leave.â Your footsteps paused when Peter called out your name, a timid look over your shoulder made him continue.Â
âDonât do this. I know what youâre doing, and it doesnât end well for either of us. Weâre not eight anymore.â Your game was called, you didnât want to do this, you donât want to be mean. Why did he have to make you do this to him?Â
âDesperation isnât a good look on you.âÂ
Peter crosses his arms over his chest, his tongue swipes over his top teeth before poking out his cheek. âOf course it isnât.â Youâre very aware that he expected this to happen, he expected you to push him away and close the gates. If he did, then he shouldnât have kissed you. He brought this on himself.Â
âNothing is.â Whatâs a final blow if only to tie the bow on no future contact? Peter took a deep breath and gives you the escape you were looking for, âIâll see you later.â You shake your head, âno, you wonât.âÂ
The hallway is cold and so is your heart. Removing Peter as a potential threat didnât do much, somehow you think it feels worse than what it would be like to love and then lose him.Â
Too bad he wasnât worth the risk.Â
You knew dinner was going to be awkward. You did your best to get out of it but it was deemed impossible, you were about to gouge your eyes out of your head just for a solid excuse. But your mom said that you werenât allowed to do that. So you didnât.Â
Peter on the other hand, looked like he was having the time of his life. Especially when May shot you a wink across the table when he reached over your plate. You threatened your eye with a fork, your mom gave you a nasty glare.Â
âButter, please?âÂ
You cross your arms and scoff, âget it yourself, penis.â Your mom gasped out your name, appalled you would say something like that. She told you to look him in the eye and apologize, using his real name. Peter showed no reaction, chewing on a buttered biscuit.Â
âIâm sorry for calling you a penis, Peter.â It was the least authentic apology heâs ever heard.Â
âAw, let them be kids, theyâre in love.âÂ
Your knife hits your plate so hard it chips, Peter chokes on his bite, crumbs fall from his mouth as he tries to speak as fast as he can. âNo, no, May⊠no.âÂ
You feel the walls closing in, the more you run from it, the more itâs announced. You canât win. Itâs brutal silence on your end, youâre shutting down into a shell of a human.Â
âOh? I thought after-âÂ
Peter has your back. âAfter we made pizza? It was one time, May. It wasnât like I planned it, it just happened. We were hanging out and I just really wanted pizza and I didnât really stop to think if she wanted pizza, I just made it.âÂ
May plays right along, and asks you directly. âDoes that mean youâre not coming over for pizza anymore?â Does that mean youâre not dating my nephew anymore?
Peter already knows the answer, he just wonders if itâs different if his aunt asks.Â
âThe last pizza I had burned to a crisp in the oven and it tasted really, really bad. And if that was a pizza I thought I loved, I canât imagine how bad it wouldâve been if it was my favorite.âÂ
Your mother has never seen you so passionate about pizza. May quirks an eyebrow, she looks at Peter while she asks.Â
âYou donât trust Peter in the kitchen?âÂ
Youâre doing your best to ignore Peterâs eyes on the side of your face, youâre trying to pretend youâre not being vulnerable.Â
âHeâs the only person who could burn it all down.âÂ
May clicks her tongue, sheâs more focused on cutting up her dinner. âFor what itâs worth, as Peterâs aunt, heâs a great chef. He takes his time in the kitchen, he doesnât mind waiting for the yeast to bloom. Because when the dough is ready, heâs really gentle at scooping it up and helping it turn into whatever it needs to be.âÂ
You turn to Peter, he gives a shy smile. âYouâre not scared of burning yourself?âÂ
A shrug, âItâs a precaution you take each time you cook, but from what Iâve learned, burns heal.âÂ
âScars donât.âÂ
Peter tilts his head, âthey fade over time, donât they?âÂ
May speaks up, sheâs looking right at you. It goes past the depth of high school love, it goes to the deepest mark one could leave on a heart. A lover lost too soon.Â
âThey do.âÂ
WEEK FOUR
Peter Parker has been on your mind for four days, (and nights,) straight. Each morning you wake at 3:02 and hear his muffled metronome. Youâve gotten avoiding him down to a T. The first morning you woke up early to watch him leave, then planned a ten minute window in case he was running late one day, and left around that.Â
Youâve been successful so far. But there was an underlying tug that wanted to be caught, you wanted him to hold you close to him and tell you that he wasnât going anywhere and nothing safe is worth the risk.Â
Is that why you let yourself be caught by him this morning?Â
âGood morning,â it was shot over his shoulder while he locked the door. You grumbled out to him, Peter doesnât mind you didnât use words, you were directing expression towards him and thatâs enough. âWanna walk together?âÂ
The idea sends flutters to the middle of your stomach, a brief image of his hand in yours while your hip bumps against his every so often and you laugh at whatever he tells you takes over your mind. âIf you want to walk near me while we go to the same location, thatâs on you.âÂ
Peterâs hot on your heels down the steps, âthatâs a total yes.â You ignore him and try to subtly shut the main door on him, it doesnât work. âHow have you been?â Walking faster, you hope he catches the hint. Peter matches pace perfectly- damn him and his puberty bus and his big strides.
âPersonally, I have been mourning the loss of my favorite neighbor coming over.â Peter blinks at the side of your face while carrying a grin. âI mean you, by the way. In case you needed that hint.âÂ
âGot it. Thanks.â You know you need to pick a side, but something in you wonât let you ignore him.Â
âWelcome. You know, if youâre free, youâre invited for dinner tonight.â You pout sarcastically, âtell May Iâll miss her presence.â Peter bumps your arm, you feel like dropping to your knees. âShe keeps asking about you, Iâm running out of excuses.âÂ
You scoff, âexcuse what? You can tell her the truth, penis.â Peter almost loses you when you swerve around a strangerâs shoulder, in one second heâs next to you again. âAnd what would the truth be?âÂ
âYou pushed yourself onto me,â you stare at Peter in shock when your wrist was grabbed tightly, you came to a stop on the sidewalk with him. He maneuvered to stand in front of you, noticing every inch he had on you; it seemed like his playful mood vanished.Â
âHey, I was just messing with you, okay? I thought you just didnât want to talk about it, but pushing myself on you is the last thing I want you to think I did. If I made you uncomfortable, Iâm really sorry.âÂ
Your features softened, your words sent him into a shame spiral. It was annoying how upset he looked with himself, even if you had to swear him off forever, you didnât want him to think he sexually harassed you.
âI was kidding, Peter. I donât think you pushed yourself onto me, you gave me the option to back out and I pulled you in. Iâd just rather never speak or think about it ever again.âÂ
A weary smile, âthat bad, huh?â You pulled your coat tighter around your chest, the cold making the tip of your nose numb. âQuite the opposite, really.â Before you could fall into temptation and kiss him in the middle of the city, you pulled away to keep heading towards school.Â
âCan I ask what that means?â You nod, âsure.â You offer up no more explanation.Â
âWell?â You look at him for a second, âoh, sorry. You can ask all you want, doesnât mean Iâll tell you.âÂ
âYouâre gonna inflate my ego, youâre telling me it was so good you canât put it into words.âÂ
You give him a side eye, âI wasnât aware there would be so much talking when I allowed you to walk next to me.âÂ
âThatâs not denialâŠâ His cadence was sing-songy.Â
âYouâre in denial.âÂ
Peter shook his head confidently, âIâm not in denial, I am very okay with the fact I like you.âÂ
You came to a halt. Heâs not allowed to feel this way, he doesnât know what it could bring. Has he not seen what love can do to a person? Has he not watched you crumble into a thousand pieces over and over throughout the weeks?Â
And why did his confession turn every piece of rubble into stained glass?Â
Peterâs not allowed to like you because reciprocation leads to temptation which bleeds into dating where it comes to a crashing end in heartbreak.Â
You tried to put on a serious face, but you know Peter sees the mask. âDonât.â Pointing a finger at his chest, âdonât say that, donât think that, and sure as shit donât act on it.âÂ
Peter must think youâre joking because he pushes your hand down before lightly laughing. âDonât act on it? I already did.â Is that what he did? Did he plan that moment? You thought it was a spur of the moment thing, but maybe heâs been planning it for weeks.Â
How long has he liked you?Â
It doesnât matter. Youâll be the adult and end it before it can start, he doesnât know what this can do to a person. You can do it nicely, or at least try. Maybe heâd find it more sincere if it comes from the heart.Â
âPeter, have you ever had your heart broken? Like, really broken? Because I wouldnât put that on my worst enemy. Itâs a type of emotional pain that turns physical, I mean, have you ever been so heartbroken you throw up? Have you ever been so sad you donât eat for days? Have you ever cried so hard you almost fainted? Itâs shit, Peter.âÂ
âBut was it worth it?âÂ
Did he not hear anything you just said? âWhat does that mean?âÂ
Peter adjusts the strap of his backpack, âyou loved him, right?â You donât need to give an answer, he already knows it. âDo you regret it? Even with the heartbreak, did that undo all the good that came out of it all?âÂ
You lick your bottom lip, itâs been a circulating thought. Love opened up doors you didnât know were closed, in the end it was a beautiful tragedy. But thatâs the worst part, with Peter you donât know what it would feel like. Youâve only had a glimpse and it tells you that itâs something thatâs going to change you forever.Â
If Peter leaves, if Peter cheats, itâll kill you, itâd be nothing like when he did it and you canât take the gamble.Â
It was worth it with him, he made you grow. With Peter youâd take ten steps back and never be the same.Â
âThere isnât always a silver lining, Peter.â You refuse to answer.Â
âSo, what, youâre never going to fall in love again?â Peterâs matching your pace again, you canât wait until youâre in the four safe walls of Midtown.Â
âNo, I just canât fall in love with you.âÂ
âCanât is a funny word choice.âÂ
âWonât.â You exhale sharply, âI wonât fall in love with you.âÂ
Peter has no interest in your claim, âitâd be easier if you just said you didnât like me, but youâre not.âÂ
You donât have to answer, you can choose to ignore him entirely and youâll be doing just that.Â
âI donât like this conversation anymore and Iâm ending it.â It works, only for twenty seconds, but it worked until Peter thinks he has a brilliant idea.Â
âBreak up with me.âÂ
Your steps slow, his did the same. Peterâs hands were tucked in his jacket pockets, the urge to kiss him breathless unmeasurable. You fight past it, âhuh?âÂ
âYou said I donât know real heartache, so I want you to break up with me. Right here.â Heâs entirely way too amused for you, even the idea makes you feel sick.Â
âIâm not going to break up with you, Peter. I canât get another tardy slip.â You keep walking, Peter hopped to keep up. âTen seconds, just end it.âÂ
âNo.âÂ
âCâmon, itâll be easy. Dump me and break my heart.âÂ
âWeâre not dating. I canât dump you, even if I wanted to.â What happened to ending the conversation?Â
You hear the smirk when he speaks. âIf.â
âIâm not playing your word games, Peter.â Because youâre not.Â
A laugh, âthen break up with me.âÂ
You thought he was supposed to be smart. How has he not gotten any of this, does he think itâs a joke, does he think youâre playing? Peter has no idea what this means, but you do.Â
Tugging at his elbow, you stop him in his tracks. Staring into his eyes and daring yourself not to get lost, you try to make things extremely clear. âI canât break up with you, Peter. I barely made it through him. I wouldnât know how to handle losing you. Youâd hurt me too bad and I canât take that risk.âÂ
Peterâs voice is soft when he answers, you want to close your eyes and have it carry you to heaven. âI canât break up with you either. Youâd be able to hurt me just as bad.â It takes you from your trance, âyou would. Because Iâm a bad girlfriend. If I wasnât he wouldnât have replaced me before he could end it.âÂ
Peterâs eyebrows pull together, you stuff your hands into your coat pockets to keep from smoothing them out. âHey, woah, letâs pause there. You did nothing wrong. Even if you were a bad girlfriend, and trust me, you werenât, that would never justify him doing that to you. Nothing could.âÂ
Itâs nice of him, but he doesnât know that. âWe didnât talk, you donât know I wasnât a bad girlfriend.â Peter scoffs, like the idea of you calling yourself a bad girlfriend offends him personally. âHe made you cry all the time,â the words followed by your name. âBad girlfriends donât cry, bad boyfriends make their good girlfriends cry.âÂ
Peter heard you. Every time you cried, every time you felt unloved, every time you sobbed out an âIâm sorryâ for something you didnât know you did. He listened, Peter listened like you did each night. How did you never notice the universal gimmick?
If you think back, most of the bad moments were at the hands of him. And for Peter to notice when you were worlds away from his person, makes your heart wrench inside your chest. You know you already drew the line and thereâs no crossing it, but itâs nice living in a moment make believe.Â
âYouâd never be able to call me babe.â It was a shitty pet name. You never liked it.Â
You get flashed with a toothy grin. âThatâs okay, I have a million to choose from.âÂ
Or the obvious hang up, âMay would totally hate me too, she knows Iâll take your virginity.â Peter waves you off, âwe donât know that.â You quirk an eyebrow, âwe donât?â Peter corrects himself, âshe doesnât have to know that.âÂ
You chuckle from the back of your throat. âBut she will. You wouldnât be able to hide it. I definitely wouldnât be able to hide it.â Peter looks down for a second, you follow his gaze, you wonder if youâre both zoned in on a black skid on the side of his shoe. âWhatâs that supposed to mean?âÂ
âI donât know. Itâs like, you just get a lot more⊠touchy, I guess. Nothingâs off limits anymore.âÂ
A monotone reply, âyeah, that sounds like a total nightmare.âÂ
It gets too real. Make believe time is over, now you have to be an adult and stick to your guns.Â
âIt wouldnât work between us, Peter.â
You feel sad, thereâs no good answer and both of you would be left with a bruise. He wanted more than youâd let yourself give and you wanted more than youâd let yourself have. Peter was right, you could hurt him just as bad, and youâd never forgive yourself.Â
Peter made himself a constant, someone you could really rely on the last few weeks, and if you lose that you donât know how youâd ever be okay again.Â
âIf you think so.â His kind smile doesnât meet his eyes. Itâs a quiet journey the rest of the way, both of you receiving a tardy slip and parting ways in the hall without a word or glance.
Peter Parker had gotten his wish. You just broke his heart.Â
This was all Natalie Greeneâs fault. If she wasnât stuck states away at a funeral she wouldâve held you accountable and used every means necessary to stop you from going to Peterâs.Â
It could also be Peterâs fault. He shouldâve never kissed you like he did, he shouldâve never made your heart beat with purpose and left a sear where he touched. Doesnât he know you could never forget it?Â
It also didnât help that you were drunk. Not drunk enough to be slamming into walls and slurring words, but enough to stop that part in your brain to hold you back from the things you truly wanted. Like your neighbor.Â
It had been three days of nothing and that wasnât Peterâs choice. He respected your decisions too much. If you didnât want him in your life, he wouldnât be. Doesnât he know that just makes you want him more?Â
Peter wasnât at the party, you didnât expect him to be, but you were a little hopeful heâd surprise you and show up. He didnât. But that didnât mean he wasnât on your mind with each shot you took, or when you stopped for pizza with a group of friends, when everyone teased you for pineapple but you knew Peter wouldnât.Â
You grabbed him a slice of pepperoni without thinking. Or maybe you were. It was an excuse to talk to him, to see him, to touch him. You could take it home and reheat it in the morning, or you could lean into your excuse of a few too many and knock on his door.Â
Itâs Peterâs fault. He really shouldnât have kissed you like that, he doesnât understand his power.Â
Harsh banging. Itâs over your head how late it is, you have important things to do. Like, lay over his body in his bed like you kiss down his neck, or squirm with harsh whimpers when he kisses down yours. You bet he likes to cuddle too, he never did, but Peter seems like he couldnât get enough of you.Â
If you couldnât date Peter you could use him as a rebound, right?
Faster knocking, why isnât he answering? At your loudest, the door opens. He was sleeping, you could tell by the puffy eyes but you didnât look at his face too long, no, Peter was in nothing but a pair of boxers.Â
When the fuck did he get so toned? You wouldâve reached out for a light graze, but he stopped you.Â
âYouâre so lucky Mayâs on overnight duty.â No, youâre lucky because heâs half naked and sleepy, youâve never seen anyone so tempting. It feels like youâre dying and only he could save you.Â
You canât help it, your palm connects with his chest, itâs there longer than a second. Itâs less about pushing him aside and more about touching him, and he knows that. Peter talks at a normal volume for the hour, âwhat are you doing here?âÂ
Your thumb traces his collarbones, âI brought you pizza.â Your breath skips when he turns his head to the side to check the time on the microwave in the kitchen, his jawline ultra toned.Â
âAt one in the morning?â Peterâs amused, you donât think he wouldâve ever been so kind if you disrupted his sleep. You nod, âI was thinking of you.â You raise the small box, just as proof as you really did get him a slice.Â
Peter takes it with a smile. âThanks, kid.â You donât know why, but you really like that one.Â
âCan I come in?â If he thought all you wanted was to share a midnight snack, he was terribly mistaken. The door widened in response, you made sure to brush against his side, he said nothing. Â
Following him into the kitchen, you have a flashback. Itâs one you want to reenact, maybe if you sit in the same spot heâll catch the drift. A blue wave of light washes over him when his snack is stored for morning, he looks angelic.Â
You donât think youâve ever been this fascinated with him.Â
âNow I understand all the song references about refrigerator lights.â Peter looks over his shoulder, his grin makes you feel like youâre flying. âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â He emerges with two water bottles, cracking the lid on yours and passing it over. His rests on the counter. He doesnât need water but you do and heâs not about to make you feel singled out.Â
You think it might be too late. You think you might already be falling.Â
âI donât know, but I just get it.â Heâs letting you do all the talking, itâs odd, youâre not used to being listened to. If Peter realizes what youâre doing, he says nothing. Maybe you just have to point it out.Â
You gesture to yourself, the real reason you came over finally announced.Â
âDo you see where Iâm sitting?âÂ
Peter nods, âI do.âÂ
Your fingers tap on the countertop, âremember the last time I sat here?â Peter breathes deep, you wonder if heâs thinking about it right now. âI do.âÂ
You wait. He makes no move. Whereâs your kiss?
âWell? Are you gonna do it again?â You pucker for good measure, just in case there was an inkling of uncertainty on his end. Youâre making it clear what you want. A faulty smile, you donât like it one bit.Â
âNo,â at least he sounds sorry about it. But he likes you, he told you himself, why would he deny you? Doesnât he know how much you need this?Â
âWhy not? If you think this is a trick, itâs not. If you want, Iâll kiss you first.â You jump down but youâre held back by a hand, heâs literally pushing you away. Itâs a feeling that causes a tug, you really donât like it.Â
âYouâre drunk,â Peter follows the statement with your name, heâs not mean but heâs also not going to change his mind.Â
You scoff, buzzed would be more accurate. âIâm not drunk.â
âDrunk enough youâre allowing yourself to have this conversation.âÂ
He has a very fair point.Â
âLiquid courage, kiss me?â Peter shakes his head, âyou made it clear nothing would happen, so nothing is going to happen.âÂ
You grin, âconsider it practice then.â Your words make him frown, âyou donât want this.â Who is he to tell you what you do or donât want?Â
âHow do you know I donât want this?âÂ
âBecause this isnât you.âÂ
You feel a tightness in your chest, he doesnât get to think he knows you more than you do. âYou donât know me, Peter. You just have an idea of me.âÂ
âYouâre hurt and confused. I wonât take advantage of that, being mad at me wonât make me change my mind.âÂ
Where was his care coming from? He didnât care about you this much and neither should Peter. It wasnât normal, was it? But itâs also not fair to compare Peter to him at every chance, especially because Peter only ever seems to outshine.Â
âWhy didn't you act like this a year ago?â If he truly cares, where was it before?
âYou mean when you had a boyfriend?âÂ
Is that why he waited until now to be a friend? Did he think youâd be sad and have weak defense, making it easy for him to get first in line? âIs that what it is? You waited until I was dumped to put on this act and lay it on me while Iâm all confused? How long have you had this planned out?âÂ
Your words are like daggers, the things youâre alluding to, he would never do them. Ever.Â
âDonât. Iâve always liked you but you had a boyfriend and the last thing on my mind was trying to get with you when it ended. You were so miserable, I just wanted to be a friend or something, but it changed and maybe a little piece of it was me being selfish. I made the first move, several times. I kissed you, I asked you out, I told you I liked you. And you said no. I respect your no, why donât you?âÂ
You could tell him the truth, tell him that he was right and his love terrified you because you havenât felt something so raw before in your entire life. Peter wasnât yours, or anywhere close to it. It shouldnât be natural to feel magnetized to him.Â
You could tell him the truth, but youâre better at hiding behind false walls.Â
âI liked you better when you didnât care about me.âÂ
âIâm sorry you feel that way.âÂ
He knows youâre lying but he wonât make you admit it, no, heâll push you into your corner of lies until you force your way out with the truth. Peter Parker will not chase you.Â
Would it be wrong to push him so far away he wouldnât let you chase him too?Â
âYou have a superiority complex. Thatâs why you canât find a girlfriend, or any friend really. You think youâre better than everyone else and itâs a natural repellent.â You back up towards the door, you spit words as they come to your mind.Â
âI was willing to do it. I was willing to give you a shot but you ruined it for yourself. Youâre going to look back on this moment and regret it.âÂ
Peter really doesnât care for your dramatics. Itâs impressive he can one, handle it and two, make you check yourself. âRegret not taking advantage of a drunk girl? Is that what youâre insinuating?âÂ
âNo! I just meant that⊠I donât know what I mean, Peter! I donât know anything and youâre not helping in the slightest and everything about you makes me want to fucking cry or scream or, or⊠I donât know.â Your voice trails, itâs the most honest youâve been in weeks.Â
âI donât know anything anymore, Peter.âÂ
Everything youâve ever thought about love has been wrong.
He made you feel flightless. But Peter, Peter made you feel free. Peter made you feel like you were flying at full speed, like the wind washes over your cheeks so harshly youâre in a permanent grin. Youâve never seen the world from this high up, in this much color, itâs never been so beautiful.Â
The flight is amazing, thinking about stopping it hurts you. How would it feel to be on the ground again, to walk around, to be without wings and treetops and colors and wind? How would it feel to be without Peter?Â
Would it feel like an agonizing death?Â
Would your wings ever be patchable again?Â
Questions that make you realize the closer you get to him, the harder youâll hit the ground. Youâre okay with falling, youâre able to brace yourself the best way you can. But will Peter be there to catch your landing?Â
It looks like heâs trying to stop himself from hugging you, itâs a good thing he is. He might be thinking youâd yell or push him away, you think youâd just cry.Â
Peter looks tired, and more than just because you woke him up. You wonder if itâs because heâs up late every other night, you want to ask him about the routine and why he broke it tonight. You wonât.Â
Your back hits the door, there was only one thing you were sure of, it had been a chain reaction since. This was Peterâs fault, heâs the one that kissed you. He started it.Â
âYou shouldn't have kissed me, you really, really shouldnât have. Youâve fucked this all up, penis.âÂ
Peterâs tired of the blame. âYou came here,â he ends it with your name, like heâs pleading.Â
Itâs annoying, at least you tell yourself it is. If you can replace feelings with antonyms youâll trick your brain and youâll be right on track to hating him again and only seeing him as a void object.Â
You open the door, itâs the last time youâll allow yourself to look at his face.
Itâs Peterâs fault.Â
âBecause you made me want to.âÂ
WEEK FIVE.Â
Itâs way too early for the hysteric buzz of a mosquito in your ear, yet, it still sings to you while youâre locking your front door.
âGood morning.âÂ
You nod your head, âpenis.âÂ
And just like that, the mosquitoâs squashed.Â
You yawn so harshly that you rub at your jaw. Youâre unable to sleep and miserable. Youâve tried everything under the moon and stars, nothing worked. Staring up at the ceiling you tried to count sheep but they kept turning into the tiny freckles that dotted over Peterâs cheeks.Â
It wasnât fair to keep thinking about him, youâre doing your part. You cut him out and you decided to hate him. Youâre just finding out that thatâs not how it works.Â
3:02, you hear his window.Â
3:04, your eyes finally get heavy.Â
3:07, youâre dozing off.Â
3:10, youâre asleep.Â
It wasnât fair.Â
Three nights later, Itâs 3:02 in the morning and a window slams shut. This time, it isnât your neighbors. This time, it was your own. You should be scared, but you donât feel threatened, youâre curious. You pull your head from under your pillow.Â
Spider-Man is at the foot of your bed, his shoulder hits the window frame when he pulls his mask off. Heâs racing for air, he looks beat up, a gash crossed over his chest.Â
If you didnât have as much distain as you did, youâd be slightly shocked.Â
âIf you get blood on my carpet, I will fucking kill you.âÂ
Peter must be dizzy, because heâs imagining you in his room.
"Seriously, if you get blood on my carpet I'll have you come over tomorrow and scrub it out with your toothbrush."
Peter tries to swallow, it's hard to do. His head feels like a brick, his hands won't stop shaking.
âHey, pesky pete, I mean it. Get the fuck outta here.â
When he holds his eyes close, then opens them, he still sees you there. Peter looks down at his hands, turning them back and forth. They go in and out of focus, itâs dizzying, at one point he has five hands.Â
He says your name questioningly, itâs hard to get words off his tongue, his brain is moving too slow. âYup, thatâs me. Now get out.â Peter touches his chest, itâs beet red. His shoulder is killing him, he stumbles and slams into the wall- now youâre sitting up in bed.Â
âPeter, are you okay?â Itâs pure worry, the act is dropped for a second, heâs not normal. Heâs not answering, you think heâs trying but he canât bring himself to speak, heâs lagging in real time. One foot hits the floor, the rest of you perched in your bed keeping an eye on his frame.
âPeter.â You need his focus on you.
He presses his hand to his wound, a last ditch effort to protect your carpet. Then, he hits the floor. You jump up, âPeter? Peter, are you okay? Peter,â heâs passed out and tore up to shreds. Every bit of you wants to scoop him into your lap and hold him tight, but instead, you get to work.Â
Peter flies up from the bed gasping for air, his face is cold and wet. The source is your twisted grin above him, a water glass held tightly.Â
âOh, good. Youâre up.â
Peter pats his chest, a blur of last night follows. He sits up in a haste, a tug in his side makes him cradle it, you both wince at the same time.Â
âYeah, I tried doing the best I could, but I wasnât sure if there was something under that.. Or how to take it off. You probably have significant damage.âÂ
âThanks.â His mouth is dry and his voice crackly, it sends a zing up your spine. Peterâs never felt so weak after a rough night, his head is pounding and he can feel the crunch of dried blood under his suit.Â
âCan I get some of that or are you still punishing me?â The only reason you give him the rest of the glass is because you like Spider-Man. He has a job to do, Peter on the other hand, could die of thirst.Â
âYou passed out on me last night.âÂ
Peter chugs the glass, you almost think about getting him another. âI did.âÂ
You nod, âI had to lug you up here, youâre extremely heavy when youâre dead weight.â He almost smiles at the imagery, instead he glances down and realizes you did your best attempt at working on the gashes over his chest and arms through the spandex.Â
Even as he was passed out and rendered useless. You must not hate him as much as you say. It's still nice to know he's not getting special treatment because of who he is, not even Spider-Man could make you like Peter.
âHas anyone ever told you that you have excellent bedside manner?âÂ
âOh no, anything I could do to make it worse?âÂ
âI think another water and some advil might kill me.âÂ
âPerfect, coming right up.âÂ
Peter takes another ten minutes before trying to sit up, âI should go home and shower.â Your hand gently pushes his shoulder back down, âeasy, tiger. May isnât home and youâre not about to turn your shower into a personal slip and slide.âÂ
Before you could regret the words, âif you want a shower, youâre doing it here.â He paused under your touch, scared you made the wrong impression, your eyes widened. âNot with me or anything, I just meant so youâd have someone around.âÂ
Peter doesnât care how it has to get done, he wants the suit and dried blood off him. He nods his head and sits up a little slower before tugging at his neckline. You look away for a minute, unsure where to settle your eyes.Â
âHelp me get my arm out?â Your hands pull at the suit, his arm escapes, itâs covered in small knicks. Itâs a subconscious move, you gently tap the cuts with your thumb. Peering into his eyes you hold a frown.Â
âDoes it hurt?âÂ
Peter feels like you might kiss his marks. âNot really, itâs mostly my side.âÂ
You rub his chest, âyou got a gash right here.â Itâs over his heart.Â
âGuess weâre twinsies now.âÂ
If he wasnât in pain, youâd slap his arm for the comment. Instead, you watch him carefully remove the red and blue until heâs left in his boxers. You do your best to keep your eyes on his face, Peter looks amused.Â
âYouâre trying really hard not to look at me.âÂ
âDonât flatter yourself, Parker.â You offer a hand to pull him up, he accepts. A slow stand, his backâs more defined than his front, you almost bite your fist. Peter has the same shower as you, but you still explain how to use it. And allow him to use your products.Â
âGot it.â The tap is turned on, the water hits against the ceramic. You make no effort to move, instead watching for a moment. Peterâs fingers pull at the waistline of his briefs, your eyes dart right to them.Â
âYou know, this is the part where most people leave.â Itâs teasing.Â
âI just wanted to make sure you got in okay, itâs a high step.â Itâs a quarter of the truth.Â
âIâll be alright, Iâve been doing this alone for a few years.â Peter says it like itâs an inside joke, but it just makes you feel sad. Heâs never had someone to be there for him, or patch up his wounds, or make sure heâs okay to shower. You wonder how many times heâs passed out on his bedroom floor with no one to drag him to bed.Â
âYou okay?â A hand on your skin wakes you back up, clearing your mind of Peter.Â
You nod, it was a flash of empathy. You couldnât imagine what itâs like for him.Â
âIâm just sorry youâve had to do it all alone. It doesnât seem fair, Spider-Man does nothing but take care of other people. He should have someone to take care of him for a change.âÂ
It may sound like youâre insinuating, especially the way he looks at you when he responds.Â
âYeah. Thatâd be nice.âÂ
Seconds tick, itâs getting a little weird, mostly because you want to tackle him into the shower and race your mouth over every inch of skin. You clear your throat, âyou want me to get you anything from your place?â
âSure. Go shopping for me.âÂ
You use the copied key May left for you several years ago when you tended to some plants while her and Peter went on vacation, and it feels weird being in their home alone. Itâs too quiet, the Parkerâs are expressive in everything they do, when they're not around everything lacks passion.Â
Peterâs bedroom is almost the same as it was the last time you were in it, the same furniture but moved around. His posters looked updated and thereâs a few extra awards heâs tucked away, you frown, he should be proud of his achievements and hang them high.Â
A new picture of him and May from last year, you ignore the part of your brain that says he has very kissable cheeks. His closet is clean and heâs made it easy for you to search around, each drawer is dedicated to a different clothing and everything that should be hung up, is.Â
Itâs something you hadnât considered, but a man taking care of his laundry creates an entire new standard.Â
Peter handed over the control when you said to get what you wanted, that means you can dress him how you please. And wouldnât he look yummy in sweatpants and a white shirt? You donât see how he couldnât, itâs the male version of a sundress.Â
Arms full of cotton, you tap at the bathroom door with your foot. You shout over the water, âI have your clothes.â Itâs muffled but you hear him and gently push the door open, a faint outline on the shower curtain suddenly makes you shy.Â
âTheyâre right here,â patting the clothes for good measure. Peter shoots out a âthanks!â and you slowly back out until youâre sitting patiently on your bed, listening closely when the tap turns off. If he goes falling, youâre busting the door down.Â
No struggles, at least not until he emerges. Peterâs fine, but youâre speechless and choked. There was no one you punished but yourself with the outfit, the t-shirt is tight on his arms and the sweatpants hug his hips just right.Â
âI feel human again, thanks, kid.â You turn on manual breathing mode and distantly nod, his biceps are stretching the cotton, you lick your lips subconsciously. âNo problem.â You watch a water droplet fall from his hair to his shoulder, your eyes stay hooked in place, his arms flexed when he dried it with the towel you lended him.Â
âWhere should I put this?â You point to your hamper, if he put it anywhere else youâd be half tempted to sniff it. âDid you tell May I was here?â You nod and finally find strength to talk to him, âyeah. I sent her a text last night, I wasnât sure of her Spider-Man knowledge so it was a little cryptic.â You take a breath and choose honesty, no doubt heâd get a third degree.Â
âI think she interpreted it as us hooking up.â Another breath, âI did not correct her.âÂ
Peter has a boyish smile spread, it squeezes your chest, you want him in your hold more than anything. âNice.â You scream and cheer and thank your lucky stars when he sits next to you. He used your products, but he still smells like Peter. You want to stuff your nose into his shirt and breathe him in until you physically canât.Â
âMay knows, by the way.â You nod absentmindedly, âanyone else?â âA couple friends.â You almost make a quip like âwow, you have friends?â but you really canât find it in you to pretend to hate him anymore. Especially when he almost died on your floor and all you wanted to do was tell him that you were sorry and you were mostly in love with him.Â
âCan I ask a question?âÂ
âShoot.âÂ
âDo the webs come out of you?â Peter lightly laughs, itâs always the same question off the bat. âNo. I make a special web fluid and I have these bracelet kind of things to shoot them out.âÂ
âOh. Cool.â Youâre hiding the burn in your lower stomach at the thought of him over his desk creating a new form of technology. Heâs so fucking smart itâs unfair, heâs too smart for his own good.Â
Heâs grinning at you, âis it?â You canât stop staring at his mouth, âyeah.â Youâd do anything to kiss him again, the last time you truly felt alive was when his lips were on yours. âAny other questions?â Thereâs one. But itâs not about Spider-Man.Â
âNot really.â Your interest could be explored later, right now, all you needed was him. Peter finds it surprising, âI think you are the least curious person to find out about this.â You shrug, shifting your body more towards him. Peter rejected you last time but if you move like he did when he kissed you, if you move in slow for the kill, you might just get your way.Â
âGive me the cliff notes.â Peter starts ticking them off with his fingers, while heâs distracted you move in closer. âBit by a radioactive spider when I was fifteen. Heightened senses plus a cool sixth sense where I can sense danger. Super strength-â You stop listening right there, your eyes are all over his build, no fucking wonder heâs a contender for worlds fittest man.Â
You shuffle in, your knee brushes his thigh, if he notices, he doesnât say anything. You thank the sweatpants, the material too thick to give you away. â-Oh, and I stopped needing my glasses which is pretty cool. I think thatâs pretty much it, but if you want me to expand on anythâŠâ
 Now or never.
You push up and straddle Peterâs waist, his hands immediately hold your hips. You lean down, his grip tightens. Peter mumbles out your name, you answer with a slow kiss. Your fingers drag through his hair, curls wrap themselves around your fingers, you hold them tight. When Peter licks your bottom lip, when Peter takes control, you need to feel every bit of him.Â
Your hands fall down his neck and over his shoulders, then they fall to his arms, your nails lightly drag up the skin. A hum from Peter, your lower stomach clenches, you answer with a roll of your hips, he sighs into your mouth. You drag your palms over his chest, his heart is at the same pace as yours.Â
You break the kiss, both of you breathing fast, it doesnât last. You kiss over his jawline, you canât hold it in, you canât fucking stop yourself. âYouâre so fucking hot,â wet marks are dotted down his neck. âI wanna take you right here, I wanna make you feel so good.â Another grind, this time, Peter moves with you, it pulls a moan from the back of your throat. The favor returned with a hickey at the bottom of his neck, it sent him falling into your hold.Â
Youâre kissing anywhere you can reach, âyou gotta stop,â it comes out in a puff. âYouâre killing me here.â Too bad, not so sad, youâre latched onto his mouth again, this time, you tug at the bottom of his shirt, it takes three times before you realize heâs not catching the hint and you pull it up yourself.Â
You study him when it goes flying, his eyes are more pupil than brown, his lips pouty and pulling a red hue. âLay back,â he does, you lean over him, youâre marking up his collarbones while his hand has a fistful of your hair. Then⊠the kisses get lower, you're grazing over his chest, delicate brushes across the semi-healed cuts, you mustâve blocked out the advanced healing perk.Â
Your hand trails over his side, you soak in the grooves and muscle, your fingers brushing against the waistband of his sweatpants. Peterâs breathing hitches, you keep teasing, then bring your lower body into play. Bumps and grinds have Peter panting in your mouth, you pull back, even as heâs heaving for air, Peterâs trying to follow your kiss.Â
Your fingers slip further under the elastic, holding his gaze when you tell him about your intentions. âI wanna suck you off.â
Thereâs a pause, then he sits up on his elbows.Â
âDoes this mean you want to be my girlfriend?â Does it? You donât think so. You just want him, you want his mouth and his hands and his body intertwined with yours. But to fall into him and have him see all your worst parts, to have him hold your heart between his hands and trust heâd take care of it is too much.Â
âNo.âÂ
Heâs sad. Itâs not just something you think, itâs something you know. Your heart tumbles with his face. You want to hug him, you try, but he tossed you off his lap like nothing.Â
âMay told me to get groceries today, so I should probably head out.â You swallow tightly, youâre not liking how this is sounding. âAre you mad at me?â You feel nothing but shame at his sigh, itâs debilitating when you hear his cutthroat tone. âIâm not a fucking rebound.â But he wanted to be. He wanted this. He wanted you.Â
Peter doesnât use the f word, not ever.
âWhether Iâm your girlfriend or sucking your dick, youâd still be a rebound.â Silence rings around the room. Peterâs voice is tight when he answers you.Â
âIs that all you think of me? Just a rebound?âÂ
You donât know how to be honest with him. You never have. âWould I be wrong?âÂ
âVery.â Itâs clipped. Youâve never heard Peter with an edge and you donât like it. You really donât like being on the other side of his frustration. Heâs only ever been soft and kind with you, you canât handle any more change in your life. You need Peter to keep being Peter.Â
You were so scared of losing him you went and filled his head up with words of affirmation, used your mouth on him, then turned around and shut him down. If this is only a fraction of how it stings when Peterâs upset you donât know if you could handle more. Youâve never felt Peterâs cold shoulder before and it hurts.
âIâm sorry. I didnât mean it.â Itâs bullshit, Peter can sense it too. âYou did.â You chew on your bottom lip, âI did, but not like that.â Peter seems taller than normal when heâs standing over you, you canât look him in the face, itâs nothing but being mortified. You really put your foot in your mouth.Â
âDo you even like me or are you just horny?â You canât allow yourself to answer him.Â
âIâm an idiot.â Your face turns in, Peterâs laughing at himself. âIâm such an idiot. I really thought you liked me. I thought you were trying to fight it but no, that was just me daydreaming.â Youâre looking up at him but heâs already standing at the door with his shirt on and suit tucked under his arm.Â
âYou donât like me. You never did and now Iâm trying to make pieces fit where they donât.â Heâs staring right into your eyes, he says it louder, heâs saying it for himself. âIâm not a rebound.âÂ
âYouâve never been properly loved and it shows.âÂ
And thatâs the most brutal thing he couldâve ever said to you. Your lower lip trembles with the tears pricking at your eyes, he started it and you canât stop it.Â
âI fucking hate you. I hate you so fucking much, Peter.âÂ
No surprises there. âYeah, I know.â He sounds just as defeated.Â
When he leaves you cry harder for Peter than you ever did him, and that says something. But youâre not listening.Â
WEEK SIX.
You finally broke down and told everything to Natalie Greene. She held you in her arms while you cried about losing what you couldâve had. âIâm sure heâll come around babe, he likes you a lot.â You shake your head, ânot anymore. He hasnât answered any of my texts in three days.âÂ
You can at least give yourself the benefit of trying to do damage control. He wouldnât let you. Youâd sent a flurry of texts, each one more apologetic than the next, begging him for a chance to see you but he refused.Â
You think you broke him.Â
âHave you tried talking to him? In person?â You shake your head, he doesnât want to talk to you. You blew everything up and for the first time you really hate it. Two weeks ago you were begging for this but now you just feel terrible.Â
âNat, this is nothing like what I had with him and I donât know what that means.â Your friend hugged you close, âit means you love him more than you ever did him.â You swallow hard, you knew the truth but it was different hearing it.Â
It doesnât matter anymore. You ruined it and Peter wonât talk to you anymore.Â
âYou shouldâve seen the look on his face, Nat. He was fucking crushed. Itâs likeâŠâ You take in a sharp breath, youâve been beating yourself up over it since he walked out. âItâs like I used him.â Natalie Greene doesnât bullshit but sheâs still soft as ever with her response, itâs purred out while her acrylics scratch your back. âYou did.âÂ
Sheâs your best friend. She should be on your side. âBut I didnât! I just-â
âYeah, you did. You knew how he felt about you and you said no so he stopped trying. Then you showed up drunk and threw yourself at him, he said no and you got all butthurt. Then he comes over and somehow passes out on your floor and you offer him a blowjob.âÂ
Well, when she puts it like thatâŠÂ
âOf course heâs going to think you flipped your script, youâre the one who kept pushing after you told him no.â Peterâs words echo in your mind, âI respect your no, so why donât you?â Because you canât allow yourself to have him, thatâs why. But⊠you already do, donât you? Or, you did.Â
âHeâs gonna wreck me, Nat. He already is.âÂ
âBecause youâre fighting it. I get it, babe, Iâve been where you are a dozen times. But you donât get over heartbreak by hiding from love. I know itâs Peter Parker and heâs been your enemy since you were eight, but no matter how fast you try to run, heâs right there matching your stride.âÂ
You sniff into her arm, she smells like lavender and it makes you snuggle further. âI think Iâve always liked him.â You could finally admit it. Natalieâs been there for months, years possibly. âI know. You always talk about him.âÂ
You scrunch your eyebrows, âno I donât.â Natalie thinks you mustâve said a funny joke because sheâs laughing like it. âYeah you do. Sure, it might have been mean things but if you truly hate someone you donât notice everything they do.âÂ
You noticed everything about Peter and made sure to fill Natalie Greene in on the gossip.Â
Like when he cut his hair way too short in middle school and his curls disappeared for months.Â
When he slipped in mashed potatoes in the cafeteria and fumbled until he could steady himself.Â
When his cheeks flamed pink because he forgot to silence his phone during a test and the Game of Thrones theme song blasted through the room as he awkwardly tried to silence the call.Â
Then thereâs the time he stuttered when giving an answer in biology because Lindsey Snipes was twirling her hair at him. A small tug in your stomach, the answer suddenly clear to why youâve always hated her too.Â
And when he bumped a friend's coke all over his notebook and he just watched with an open mouth while all his hard work was ruined.Â
When he stumbled up the steps.Â
When he hit his head with his locker.
When he stepped on his glasses.Â
When he was tackled in flag football.Â
When he tripped over his shoelace.Â
When he got glue in his hair.Â
When he winced while dissecting a frog.Â
When he cracked his phone because he dropped it and a guy on the football team kicked it clear across the cafeteria while he laughed. That one didnât make you laugh. That one made you so angry you made a point to tell Kristina, said player's girlfriend, so she could give him a well deserved tongue lashing. And not the good kind.Â
When he fell asleep at the library and had a red mark on his cheek to prove it.Â
When he spit milk everywhere because the one he grabbed was expired.Â
When, no matter what, each time you met his eyes heâd send you a smile. And how each time there was something that made you want to give it back.Â
âNatalie,â you can hear it in your voice. Itâs dangerous. Itâs terrifying.Â
Itâs worth it.Â
âI think Iâm in love with Peter Parker.âÂ
Natalie Greene and you had carefully conducted Operation: Get Peter Back.Â
Step one: Tell him, (IN PERSON) how you feel.Â
Step two: See above.Â
There were no other steps. Natalie Greene told you thatâs all you could do.Â
One day later you knocked at his door before you could lose the small amount of courage you had, itâs soft enough you hope itâs unnoticeable, you could quit and say you tried. Your heartbeatâs in the bottom of your throat, your palms itch as you rub them over your shirt.Â
A smidge of relief, no one heard you. Youâre about to quietly escape, May doesnât let you off that easily. Sheâs surprised when your name comes from her mouth, you wonder how much she knows. âHi, May. Is Peter home?â Sheâs got a weak poker face, her eyes dart to the side of the door before sheâs smiling sweetly.Â
âSorry, honey. Heâs out with some friends.â You know heâs right behind the wood. You speak up, you want to be sure he hears you too. âCan I leave you with a message?â May stands straighter, she wasnât expecting this. âOf course.âÂ
âCan you tell him Iâm sorry? And that Iâve been way too selfish and mean and a complete and utter fucking bitch to him for no good reason for nine years? Can you tell him that heâs the last person I ever wanted to hurt like this and that I really want to say it to his face?âÂ
May ignores the colorful language and youâre thankful for it. Her eyes trail to the side again, she smiles softly. âIâll let him know.â Thereâs no need, he already knows and you both know it. His answer lies in the fact that heâs allowing May to keep up the charade. You donât know if Peter is bad at forgiveness or just that you donât deserve it.Â
âThanks, May.â You watch the door slowly close, when there's just a crack left you stop it with a hand. âHeâs⊠Heâs okay, right?â Your heart thumped slowly, youâre reading her face like itâs your job, you need to know heâs okay.Â
A tight nod. âHeâs okay.â You can breathe a little better. âGood.âÂ
You stare at his door for another two minutes after it shuts.Â
Is this an asshole move? Yes.Â
Is this worse than what youâve already done? Possibly.Â
Peter still wasnât talking to you and you only had one card to pull. He was home, but he wasnât answering your texts. You think itâs time to fight fire with fire. Youâre standing by his apartment door, and loudly talk into your phone. No oneâs on the other side, but he doesnât know that.Â
âHello? Yes, Iâm looking for J. Jonah Jameson?â Your eyes twitch to his door, nothing. You speak a little louder. âI understand heâs busy. Well I just⊠Uh huh, right, I understand, yes maâam. Is he interested in Spider-Manâs identity?âÂ
You hear something drop inside his apartment.Â
âYeah, I know who Spider-Man is.â Peter swings the door open, your phone is ripped from your hand. He glares down at the screen, youâre not connected to anyone. âThatâs a low move.â You lightly shrug, âdid you expect anything more than that?âÂ
A scoff, âwith you? No.â Your lips twitch, you have to fight the frown. You catch his arm when he turns around, thereâs no trying, heâs an unstoppable force, youâre moving with him. âIâm sorry! Peter, please! Iâm sorry, I am so so sorry and I need you, okay? I need you to not be mad at me.âÂ
Was that honesty? Were you actually being honest with him? Your shoes squeak when he stops pulling you, youâre looking at him desperately searching his face for emotion. There is none. âYouâre not a rebound. Not at all. I shouldâve never called you one.âÂ
Thereâs a lot youâve done to Peter you never shouldâve done. Maybe itâs time you start owning up to it.Â
âI shouldâve never said you were a rebound, I shouldnât have kissed you, I shouldnât have shown up here drunk, I shouldnât have kept coming back for more after I told you no. I shouldnât have ignored you for nine years, I shouldnât have shut you out when I was eight, I shouldnât have hurt you.âÂ
Peterâs not saying anything and you donât mind. You need to say this, you need him to know.Â
âI shouldnât have hurt you. I meant what I told May. Youâre the last person I ever wanted to hurt like this. Youâre Peter. Youâre nice, youâre warming, youâre always positive and you buy me pizza without making fun of me and you sign off on donation slips and you let me rip your notebooks apart and you bake me things.âÂ
You blink through your tears. âYou were there when I really needed you and you are anything but a fucking rebound to me.â Your chest feels tight, âyouâre so good to me, even when I donât deserve it. I really donât deserve it now but I really fucking need you, Peter. I know I went on this whole speech thing where Spider-Man needs someone but-âÂ
âIâm here.â Relief fills you, Peter has you tucked into his chest with his arms around you. âIâm right here, okay?â Itâs the selflessness that really gets you. Youâve been nothing but mean and standoffish but Peterâs hugging you because you need it.Â
But really, itâs because he knows he was right. You do like him. You like him more than youâre willing to admit to him yet.Â
âCan you catch popcorn with your mouth?âÂ
Peter tosses a piece up and catches it with his eyes closed. You grumble and throw your own at him, he also catches that with his eyes closed.Â
âOkay, turn off the powers and try again.â He laughs at you, âit doesnât work like that.â You huff, âwell, make it.â Peter tosses a piece up and dodges it, it satisfies you. âHa. Loser normy.âÂ
âDid you just call me a normy?âÂ
âYouâre just a boring normal person, I hate to tell you, but itâs true.âÂ
Thereâs been a brief pause in the actual relationship aspect of your friendship. Thereâs no more kissing, but youâd really like there to be. You think Peterâs starting to sweat you out and you have no issues with it. If he wants you to make the first move, youâll do it.Â
But itâs all in the timing.Â
âDid I ever tell you that six weeks ago Nat said sheâd do heroin with me?â Popcorn spills on the couch, Peterâs darting his eyes over your arms looking for track marks. âWe didnât do it! She said that if I still felt miserable after six weeks sheâd do it with me.âÂ
âMiserable? What, about the breakup?âÂ
âYeah,â you shove a handful of buttery styrofoam into your mouth. For the first time in weeks it doesnât hurt to talk about. Itâs not even a little sore, thereâs no bitterness or resentment. Thereâs nothing there. Itâs pure indifference.Â
You pushed Peter away because you didnât want him to be a rebound, you didnât want to use him to get over someone else. But you havenât thought of him since⊠since⊠you canât remember the last time you actually thought of him.Â
But when you think of Peter your heart races, your palms feel warm, your stomach flutters. His kisses ignite you. You wake up in the morning and think of him, you wake up every night to make sure heâs home and go right back to sleep. You walk with him every morning, you wave and smile at school, you come over everyday.Â
Youâre in love with Peter and only Peter.Â
âI donât know why I ever thought he was worth that.âÂ
Peter has the answer, itâs muffled around popcorn. âCause you loved him.â You pick a piece off Peterâs shirt and crunch down on it. âYeah, I donât think I knew what love was. How embarrassing.â Â
He smiles. Your eyes catch the screen again, you shuffle more towards Peter, then stop yourself. âIs it weird if we cuddle?â Peter rips the popcorn bowl between you away, heâs never cuddled with a girl before but heâd be an idiot to say no.Â
âWeird for who? Weird for me? Weird for us?â Peter doesnât care about the answer. âThose are rhetorical, just come cuddle me.â Itâs all you needed, you press up against him and wait, heâs not moving. Fine with you, you halfway lay on him, head on his chest. Youâve never been this close to him, youâve kissed him and youâve made a bold move that backfired, but youâve never been this soft or domesticated with him.Â
Peterâs heart is drumming a little fast, you make no comment. Yours is beating at the same rate.Â
You expected Peter to still like you but you havenât asked. After what happened maybe he decided youâd be better friends. It wasnât talked out, you both skimmed over what happened and started hanging out like nothing happened.Â
But it did and youâre glad. It puts things in perspective. It made you realize how much you like him. You just need to know if it made him feel the opposite.Â
âDo you still like me?âÂ
âIâm sorry, Iâve never cuddled with anyone before so I donât really know what-âÂ
âNo, I mean do you still like me?â Peter knows what you mean. He doesnât know how you think he doesnât. âOf course I do.â You peek up at him, heâs already got eyes on you, it makes your cheeks feel warm.Â
âEven after I was shitty to you?â Peter laughs, a hard laugh, you move with his jostles. âHoney, youâve been giving me shit for nine years, it hasnât slowed me down one bit.âÂ
Honey. It has a nice ring to it, you like it. But the one youâve always liked hasnât ever been uttered with endearment and you really want it, you want it to come from Peterâs voice and have it wrap around your ears while your heart bubbles up with giddiness.Â
âCan you call me sweetheart?âÂ
âIs that the one you like?âÂ
âYeah.âÂ
âSure thing, sweetheart.âÂ
Itâs so much sweeter than you imagined.Â
Youâre not sure what details May knows, but she knows you hurt her nephew. She hasnât said anything but you can feel her watching your back every time youâre with Peter. Her tone isnât clipped and sheâs just as welcoming as before, but you can feel it. You can sense that she isnât fully trusting.Â
May had stared at you for a good thirty seconds when she caught you spread across Peterâs lap while he studied. You tried to focus on his rubix cube in your hand, even going as far to prove youâre not a threat by giving him a light kiss on his cheek. She didnât seem convinced, but she left it alone.Â
Two days ago she burst into Peterâs room and made it very clear that when you were over the door stays open. Peter tried to fight it, he said that you were just hanging out but she was dead serious, going as far as saying that if he couldnât handle her rules, he wasnât allowed to have company.Â
Peter didnât tell you that you were the only person with this rule, but you knew you were.Â
âI just donât get why youâre making such a big deal out of this, May. Sheâs just-â You werenât going to be involved, you werenât going to give May more ammo.Â
âDoor stays open, Peter. If May says it, we follow it.â Peter doesnât agree with you, you can tell by the way he nods his head and clicks his pen. When did you start being able to read him? And why do you like it so much?Â
But the real hint was when you werenât welcome to stay for dinner the previous night. Thereâs never been a time May denied you food, most of the times sheâd come over begging you to join so they wouldnât have so many leftovers. But last night she just suggested you go home and prepare for the next day.Â
You watched Peterâs jaw clench in frustration, then you sweetened him up with a smile and told him you were planning on leaving anyway. You donât think he bought it. You needed to talk to May, you needed to know she was okay with you and Peter, if she wasnât- no matter how hard it would hurt, youâd stay away from Peter.Â
May is all he has and youâre not going to put any strain on their relationship. Not over you.Â
Peter was staying late at school for math club and itâs your perfect opportunity. A light knock, May answers almost instantly. Sheâs surprised but she melts into a smile, itâs lacking something. âOh! Peter isnât here.âÂ
âI know. I wanted to talk to you.â Now youâve got her interest. May opens the door wide, you go straight to the kitchen for the batch of cookies Peter made you last night. You can taste the love in them.Â
âMay, I need you to level with me here. Do you have a problem with me dating Peter?â Thereâs a beat of silence, âare you dating him?â You swallow a bite, ânot yet. I needed to make sure it was okay with you.âÂ
âYouâre asking for my blessing?â You slightly nod. âMore or less. Youâve been really nice but I feel like thereâs a little tension. I feel like you donât totally trust me with him.â Confirmation, but it doesnât hurt like you think.Â
âPeterâs a sensitive boy. He does everything a hundred and ten percent. If you want him, heâll give you more than his all. Can you say the same?â Can you? Yes. Itâs without a doubt. You want him and only him and youâd lay your life on the line. Thereâs been so much wasted time, Peter couldâve been your first but you were too stubborn.Â
Peter wasnât your first, but with everything in you heâs going to be your last.Â
âYes. Iâm in love with him. I love him more than I ever loved anyone, I love him more than I thought was possible. I want to be there for him, I want to support him through the bad days and I want to be by his side for the good ones. I want him and only him, I was just too dumb to see it before.âÂ
Mayâs mouth etches into a smile, this time it reaches her eyes and sheâs hugging you. A whisper in your ear, âI always knew this is how it would end.â You grin into her shoulder, âreally?âÂ
âPeterâs nothing but determined. It was only a matter of time.â You know what that means. âAre you giving me your blessing?â She laughs and pulls you closer, âyou always had it. I just needed to know you were serious.âÂ
Time passes quickly, youâre three cookies down and youâre itching for a fourth. You swear he puts crack in them. You talk animatedly with May, youâre fawning over her own love story and hoping that that would be your future with Peter. When the door unlocks you perk up, you canât bite back your smile or tapping feet.Â
âWhatcha doing here? Hi May.â Your arms spread wide, Peter fills them. âI came to talk to May, I stayed to see your handsome face.â How did you once see it as annoying? How did you once find his smile revolting? Heâs the prettiest person youâve ever seen. You want to kiss him more than anything, May gave you the green light, you press up on your toes to give him a peck.Â
âI missed you. How was math club? Were you the smartest hunk there? Donât answer, I already know itâs a yes.â Peterâs still reeling from the kiss but he powers through. âI wouldnât be too confident about that, sweetheart.â Your heart clenches, him saying it makes your knees feel weak. âMathew Ryan is in the club with me.âÂ
âI hate blondes. I only like cuties with brown, curly hair by the name of Peter Parker.â His eyes squint at you, it makes you feel warm, you hide back in his chest. Mayâs watching with heart eyes, sheâs never seen you so happy. âYouâre laying it on thick today. You must need something.âÂ
âJust you, handsome.â Okay, you might be laying it on a little thick, but you canât hold it in. You just love him too much, itâs uncontainable. Heâs perfect. âMay, sheâs up to something. I donât trust it.â His aunt keeps grinning. âI do.âÂ
Peter pats your back, âif you trust it, I guess I have to, too.â You squeeze him tight and mumble into his chest, he still hears you. âWhat, now?â You asked if you could talk to him, it had him looking down and giving you his full attention.Â
âWhatâs up?â Your eyes shoot to his door, message received. Peter leaves a small gap in the door, you pause and poke your head out to his aunt. âCan I shut the door?â A three second count, âpermission granted.â It clicks shut, you spin, you have all his attention.Â
âYou said I was never properly loved.âÂ
Peter feels his heart drop, it was the nastiest thing he could ever say to you. Part of him wished you had forgotten but thatâs not something thatâs forgettable, thatâs something that sticks with you forever. He never meant to say it, it was something he spewed out to make you feel just as bad but thatâs not who he is and thatâs not what he does and he really shouldâve apologized way before now.Â
âIâm so sorry, I didnât mean it. It was a shitty thing to say and I-âÂ
âYou werenât wrong. I havenât been properly loved. But Iâd like for you to show me how it feels.âÂ
Your pulse rises with his silence, Peter holds out a steady hand. âJust to be clear, youâre asking me-âÂ
âIf youâd be my boyfriend.âÂ
You let out a soft groan, youâre spinning in his hold and pushing at his arms. âPeter!â He doesnât care, your feet lightly dangle, youâre laughing with him. âNuh uh, youâre not allowed to push me away anymore, Iâm your boyfriend.âÂ
Boyfriend. Peter Parker is your boyfriend. What a rush of feelings, thereâs a new one you havenât felt before. Pride. Youâre prideful that Peterâs your boyfriend, youâve got the greatest person in the world tethered to your hip and heâs going absolutely nowhere. Ever.Â
âIâve been waiting for this day since I was fifteen.â A flurry of kisses over your face, âholy wow, youâre my girlfriend. I can kiss you whenever I want, and I can touch you! Oh, and now I always have someone to eat pizza with. And the science museum! No one ever wants to go to the science museum with me!âÂ
âHoly wow?â You giggle at a string of kisses to your jawline, you never knew someone would be so excited at the thought of dating you. âWow, wow, wowie, my girlfriendâs a hottie.â You push him away with a disgusted sound, âthatâs so gross, Peter.âÂ
âOops, let me repent with a kiss.âÂ
Itâs the fireworks again. This time theyâre blinding. Your back burns with his touch, you want to swallow him whole. Itâs not lacking passion, but itâs soft. You reach for his shirt collar when he pulls away, this time he laughs.Â
âI was going to ask if I was a bad kisser but-âÂ
âNo.â This time youâre keeping him chained to you with your hands behind his neck. âBest kisser ever,â you give him a chaste one to prove it. âMy handsome baby.â Your waist is squeezed, âyouâre too nice.â He doesnât understand, heâll never be able to understand.Â
âI wasted so much time, Peter. You were right there and I was so⊠so stupid that I couldnât see what was right in front of me. I have no idea why you like me, I was so mean and cruel and I never appreciated you.âÂ
Peter has secrets too. âI was friendly, but I didnât like you. You were super aggressive and made a point to say something mean⊠but then Ben died.â The oxygen runs from your lungs, it wasnât something you thought about, you thought he didnât either.Â
It was brutal watching him and May go through that. You remember that night vividly, the night May got the call. You could hear her screams from your room, itâs something youâll never forget. Her wails, the way she begged to God that it was all a dream. You knew what happened before you could see them and the one thing you thought of in that moment was Peter.Â
You can still remember the panic you felt, the overwhelming urge to make sure he was okay. You remember your feet skidding across the carpet, the cold hardwood in the hall, the way your middle knuckle split you were knocking so hard.Â
âPeter,â itâs all you had to say. Then you were scooping him into your arms, holding him tight as he sobbed. You kept telling him you were sorry, you brushed his hair back and rubbed circles on his back. You kept him tucked into your neck while he cried, you didnât tell him it was okay, nothing about that night was okay. You remember holding in your own tears, you swallowed them down and held Peter all night.Â
Fourteen hours. You had him curled up with you while you kept telling him sorry, you had stayed up all night with him and took care of him. You got him water, you made him eat a snack, you did what you could while they slept. You did laundry, you did the dishes, you made cookies.Â
Peterâs uncle died and you made him cookies.Â
Your boyfriend dumped you and Peter made you cookies.Â
You basically lived there for a week, you slept with Peter, held him with each bout of sadness, and never ever told him it was okay. You held his hand at the funeral and kissed him on the back of it before he gave his eulogy. You made sure he was minimally functioning, you tried to keep him busy with dumb tasks.Â
After two weeks he didnât need you anymore and you slowly faded away until it settled into how it used to be. You think Peter liked it a little, not everything had to change because Ben died. But you never went out of your way to hurt him anymore, he didnât need your help in that department. What used to be petty attacks turned into silence and gentle name calling.Â
But you were there for him when he needed it. Just how he was with you.Â
âYou pulled an Uncle Ben on me.âÂ
A twitch in his lips, âyou were there for me when my world ended, I had to return the favor.â Itâs not fair for him to compare the two. âI was broken up with, I didnât have my-âÂ
âDevastation comes in all forms. Itâs not about whos is worse, itâs about being there for someone you care about.â He doesnât hide his smile, âeven if they claim to hate you for all eternity.âÂ
âI donât hate you anymore.âÂ
âSpoiler alert, you never did.âÂ
Youâve been caught. Peter knew the whole time, he was just waiting on you. âAre you sure you donât hate me? Cause Iâve been really terrible to you the last month.â Your boyfriend rolls his eyes before giving you a big hug.Â
âThatâs because youâre stubborn and didnât want to admit you liked me.â You poke his ribs, âyou knew?âÂ
âSweetheart, I knew the day you said I had very pretty eyes.âÂ
âYeah, you do. Let me see them again, boyfriend.âÂ
The last six weeks you detested love and what it brings. The disaster, the heartbreak, the pain. You never thought youâd love again and definitely not with the neighbor you hated. But right there, in his room, you felt your heart crack open and ooze onto his bedroom floor.Â
And you watched love begin again.Â
âAnything for you, girlfriend.âÂ
----
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Of Oblivious Minds (4)
Pairing:Â Azriel x Reader
Summary:Â You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore.
Word count:Â 3k
Warnings:Â Angst
a/n: Thank you for reading and sorry for the wait!! I hope you enjoy :) Let me know what you think â€ïž
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
~~
You were leaving today, and suddenlyâwith your bags at your feet and the air around you filled with stagnant silenceâa few days seemed so juvenile. So⊠inconsequential in the grand scheme.Â
You would leave, and when you returned everything would be the same. Azriel would still love another and you would still be left with the bleak realization that you had spent the last few centuries denying a love that you knew to be fruitless.Â
Nothing would change if you were to be gone only a few measly days.Â
But if you were to be gone a month? A year, even?Â
Much of your work for Rhysand could be done from afar, especially with the library in Day Court. Helion wouldnât mind; heâd asked you to consider an extended stay in the past. And maybe there could even be something there, something to take your mind off of your true home.Â
The home that wasnât Velaris.Â
You saw him every time you closed your eyes. His rare smiles, his even rarer laughs; you saw the way his watchful eyes skated across every room you entered and reminisced on each twitch of his handsâthe way you could feel it against your fingers when you grabbed for him in the busy streets of Velaris.Â
Azriel was inescapable, even when you battled against your vision and attempted to drift to sleep.Â
He was everywhere, everything.Â
But he wouldnât be in Day Court, and although that wouldn't stop your thoughts, it would be something. It would be distance.Â
With a flick of your wrist, you sent your bags away to Day Court and heaved in an uncomfortably large breath. You knew he would do little to deny you, but you still needed to ask Rhys. He was your High Lord and employer, above all your friend, and you knew it would take a little persuading.Â
Maybe tears. Yes, tears were very moving and equally as conjurable at the moment.
It only took one step before the knock on your door left you still. Your shoes made a dent in the carpet and you could hear him breathing on the other side of the ornately carved wood. You could always tell when it was Azriel.Â
You shifted your weight from one knee to the next, gripping your skirts at the thigh. Azriel knocked again, this time in a faster patternâmore rushed.Â
You bit into your lip. You hadnât planned to see him again, not before you left. You would deal with the repercussions of such an act later on, but not now. Not when you had finally gotten your emotions under control for long enough to have a conversation with Rhys.Â
It made sense to you now why you had repressed this for so long.Â
The sound of your voice was startling. âCome in.âÂ
The door creaked, but the sound was overpowered by Azrielâs boot clicking against shining marble. The shadowsinger entered before his shadows, but the wisps followed close behind, quickly abandoning their master in favor of darting toward you. They twisted up your legs and elbows, rolling into your hair and dancing along your fingertips.Â
Something like fear, love, crushing defeat tugged and tugged at your chest.Â
âAzriel,â you greeted, aiming for a surprised tone and failing. âHave you come to see me off?âÂ
The spymaster didnât smile. âRhys sent me. He said you might have a message for him.âÂ
That cauldron-damned meddler. Of course he somehow knew about your reservations. You doubted he knew exactly what you had to say, but you had been dragging your feet all morning and were currently about an hour late for your own departure.Â
And of course he had sent Azriel of all people.Â
âOh! Well, I suppose I could go andââÂ
âWhy is half of your vanity gone?âÂ
You blinked, startled by the words. If Azriel was anything, he was polite and never one to cut someone off. You went to search Azrielâs expression but found him zeroed in on the table pushed into the corner of your room.Â
âWhat?â It was all you could think to formulate.Â
But Azriel was quick to respond. âAlmost all of your things are gone. Your perfumes and the pots of cream you keep on the side. Youâve only left the items you donât use anymore.âÂ
âHow do you knowââ you cut yourself off this time, ignoring the glaring question that tried to blind you. âAzriel, Iâm going away⊠to Day Court. You know this.â
But Azriel only shook his head, stalking over to the table and yanking the drawer open so harshly it shook the mirror. When he didnât find what he was looking for, he went to your closet, throwing open the door, shoulders rising and falling with more effort.Â
âAzrielââÂ
âYouâve packed too much.â He turned to you, some of his shadows returning to wind around his chest. âYouâve taken most of your clothes.âÂ
âYou know I always overpack,â you laughed, but the laugh sounded fake, painful.Â
You fought the urge to cower under Azrielâs scrutinizing gaze. It was as if he was on fire, as if he was aflame and filled with something that had been pent up for far too long. If someone, anyone, were to look inside of you, they would see the same thing.Â
Which is why you needed to get far, far away from this situation. Away from him.
But the longer you looked back at himâthe longer you tried to slap that easygoing smile on your faceâthe longer he stared back with the same steady intensity.Â
âIs something the matter?â you tried.Â
Azrielâs hand twitched.Â
That feeling crept along the edges of your ribs once again.Â
âIs something the matter?â he parroted, jaw so impossibly tight the words came out pinched.Â
You finally looked away, playing with your fingers. âYes?âÂ
He started laughing. But it wasnât the kind of laugh that made you feel light. It didnât fill you with pride for eliciting such a sound from him, nor did it make you want to laugh in return. It made you feel dark; as Azriel laughed, you wanted to heave the sound back within the depths it flowed from.Â
âThere are several things that are the matter, y/n, but Iâd say the most pressing is that you have been avoiding me for weeks. That every moment Iâve tried to spend with you has been promptly evaded and now youâre leaving and you had no intention of saying goodbye.âÂ
âI was going toââÂ
âPlease,â he pleaded, eyes soft yet so achingly desperate. âDonât lie to me. Not right now.âÂ
The indent in the carpet was becoming permanent; you couldnât seem to move.Â
âIâve been⊠Iâve been going through a hard time. Leaving seemed like it was the best for me. Just for a little while. Just until I could sort a few things out.âÂ
âFor how long?â he asked, voice cracking along the precipice of the last word.Â
You paused then, staring hard into his eyes. âA while.â
A shaky breath left the shadowsinger, his chest reflecting the sound. He ran a hand into his hair and tugged at the roots, an action you hadnât seen him do in years. A sickening sort of pity ran through youâa sort of responsibility.Â
Because Azriel was your friend, and he was going through something, too. You had no idea if his mate reciprocated his feelings. You found it hard to believe that anyone wouldnât love Azriel, but the conversation youâd overheard last week gave nothing away.Â
Maybe Azriel hadnât told her yet because she didnât love him. And maybe you were being a bad friend by not being there for him.Â
Tossing your hurt to the side, you took a step forward. Azriel watched the movement, eyes flickering behind you to catch the previous imprint of your feet on the carpet.Â
âIâm sorry,â you began, resolute. âIâm sorry that you felt you couldnât tell me. And that youâve been⊠having a hard time. I know Iâm not leaving at the most opportune time, but you can write to me and I can help you.âÂ
Some of the brokenness on Azrielâs face morphed into confusion. âHelp me?âÂ
âWith your mate.âÂ
And it was as if Azriel had been shot. He physically recoiled, his right foot coming down to catch him as he fixed his imbalance.Â
âI know you wanted to keep it private, but I overheard. Azrielââ You swallowed. Hard. ââItâs so wonderful that youâve found your mate.âÂ
Something was set in motion, and Azriel was shaking his head. His gaze was fixed on you and his eyebrows were pushed together in a painful expression and he just kept shaking his head as your chest caved and it became hard to breathe. Something pulled from within and it felt like your heart was unraveling.Â
Couldnât he see how hard this was? How much it took from you just to acknowledge that he was destined for someone else?Â
The shadowsinger seemed unaware of your inner turmoil, instead taking long steps across the room until he reached you. He leaned down, brought his hands up to your face, and he broke another piece of you as his forehead touched yours.Â
He was whispering something, words so low even your fae ears couldnât catch them, but you knew they were fast. Fast and incoherent and you werenât even able to find their meaning in his expression because his eyes were squeezed so tightly.Â
âPlease, just notice. See it, angel, itâs there.âÂ
Your jaw quivered. He was so close to you. The few words you were able to make out were confusing.Â
âMy oblivious girl. Please.âÂ
âAzrielââÂ
When he opened his eyes, the world fell off its axis. The fear in your chestâthe feeling that had been unraveling you and leaving you weakâalighted. It pulled and pulled but this time it didnât hurt. It no longer left splinters embedded in your ribs or took the breath from your lungs.Â
As you looked up at Azriel, it was only soothing and warm andâ
Mate. Azriel was your mate.Â
You pushed back from him, stumbling and catching on the rug as you went toppling down to the floor. There was no pain from the fall; a numbness overtook your body where the warmth once flowed.Â
âYouâre myâAzriel, youââÂ
There were no endings to the sentences you began. Azriel tried reaching a hand down, but when you wouldnât take it he joined you on the floor. He sat with you between his legs, bringing you forward until your knees curled against his chest. And then he wrapped you in his arms and then his wings, taking calming breaths as yours ran rampant.Â
âI am your mate,â he finished for you, so much more soothing than you had ever heard him speak.
âBut Elain,â you gasped out, finding solace against his chest. You leaned your forehead against him and relished in the heat.Â
âWhat of Elain?â Azriel asked, bringing a hand up against the back of your head.Â
âYou love Elain.âÂ
âI do not love Elain.âÂ
âAnd Mor?âÂ
âI do not love Mor, either.âÂ
You nodded against him. This would take longer for you to come to terms with later, but only simple answers were getting through to you now. And the bondâthe bondâsang as you touched Azriel. The bond didnât care if you were confused or hurt or disbelieving.
Your mind swam as a new influx of emotions filled you, but there was a distinction to them and you knew they werenât your own. At first, it was hard to pick through them all; there were so many that they all blended together. There was an obvious tender love, but also a crippling fear that mingled with a darkness you couldnât place. There was adoration and hopefulness and a sense of peace that lay at the bottom of all else.Â
But you could tell this peace was new. It wasnât as deeply ingrained as the others.Â
Azriel leaned back, craning his neck down to catch your gaze. âDo you feel that?â he asked. When you nodded, he continued. âThose feelings have always belonged to you. All of them. I know there is not a lot of proof of that, and I will spend the rest of my life making up for that, but they have always belonged to you.âÂ
âHave you always felt mine?â you asked, voice sounding unused.Â
âSince Iâve felt the bond,â he nodded.Â
âHow long have youâŠâÂ
Azriel sighed, but it wasnât out of irritation. The bond told you as much. âMonths.âÂ
Tears burned at the back of your eyes. âThen why did you neverââÂ
Azriel shushed you as your voice cracked. He ran both hands behind your head and held you steady as his lips pressed to your forehead.Â
âI didnât want to lose you.âÂ
Throat still closed, words still choked, you replied, âThat is idiotic.âÂ
This time, when Azriel laughed, you felt that pride spark up in your chest. âI know, angel. Gods, do I know that.âÂ
There was a brief pause, a respite to the revelations and emotions in the room. You counted your breaths as you pressed against Azriel, and he ran his hands up and down the length of your spine, chaste kisses pressed to your head as the minutes ticked by.Â
âDonât leave.â Azriel broke the silence. âStay. Please.âÂ
When you didnât answer, he kept talking.Â
âYou donât have to love me. I know that is a lot to ask and there are still so many questions left unanswered. But, y/n, I have loved you for a long, long time. I couldnât bear it if you left. It has been difficult to even function this past week with you avoiding me. If you were to leaveââ
âI only avoided you because I thought it wasnât me,â you interrupted, pulling back once again to meet his gaze. âI thought you didnât love me and I couldnât stand it, so I wanted to leave.â
A grim line set into Azrielâs mouth. The desperation returned to his eyes. âWe have wasted so much time.âÂ
âI wouldnât say wasted. Not when you were here. Not when I was still with you.âÂ
âAngel.â The word came out like a plea, and then his lips were on yours. His hands pressed you closer and his mouth was hot against yours and it was everything youâd spent three centuries ignoring. You loved him, gods did you love him, and in this kiss was every proof that he loved you.Â
You tangled your fingers in his hair, musing the already displaced strands. His wings quivered as you kissed him more, the action sending little pools of light into the bubble he had created. They felt warm against your eyelids, and when you pulled away to see the cause, Azriel moved his attention to your jaw, your cheek, your neck.Â
âYou are my mate,â he affirmed against your skin, low and gravelly. âMine.âÂ
You pulled his head away, leaning your forehead against his own. âAnd you are mine.âÂ
âI love you,â he said.Â
And you couldnât say it back, not yet. Azriel seemed unperturbed by this and accepted your small smile as a reply, reciprocating it tenfold. His smile shone in the pockets of light created by his wings and his eyes no longer looked sad. It made you want to say it back.
When that guilt flooded you and your mouth parted, there was a tug at the bond instead. You gasped at the feeling, blinking up at Azriel with owlish eyes.Â
âIâve wanted to do that for months,â he admitted, smile softening as he ran scarred fingers along your cheeks. âEvery time I felt your doubt or fear. I figured I could startle it out of you.âÂ
You rubbed at your chest. âIt feels warm. AndâŠâ You couldnât find the words.
âIt feels good, angel. This bond was cold and it hurt, but itâit feels good. Like Iâm exactly where Iâm supposed to be.âÂ
A breathy, awestruck laugh escaped you. âYou know, I still have to go to Day for the weekend. Itâs court-appointed.âÂ
Azriel groaned, burying his face in your neck. âThen I will come with you,â he grumbled, words muffled against your skin.Â
âYou cannot. But you can wait for me to return and I will come right back here.â
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Simon Riley x Dog Sitter! Reader pt. 2
<- Previous - Next ->
Warnings: light cursing, light nsfw, Simon being the tiniest bit of a creep
A/N: so originally this was just a fluffy thought I had a few weeks ago... it's slowly turning into a longer, multi-chapter series, and Simon is a bit darker than I had intended him to be... but the story is still going to stay relatively normal (there will be full NSFW further down the line, lol)!
Sure enough, Simon had emailed you by Tuesday afternoon. You noticed how... unprofessional it was. Not that he had been rude or obscene, but it was obviously written by someone who never had to write many emails for his career.
here is riley's routine. she likes walks, usually 3 or 4 a day. she eats one scoop in the morning and one at night. she doesn't finish her food all at once, but she'll come back to it. if you're gonna give her more cookies, just two per day. fill water every morning. around the house, if you could just dust and clean up any dog hair, that would be great. let me know if meeting me tomorrow at 0900 for the key works. I ship out thursday. thanks.
Simon.
You chewed your thumb nail, reclining on your couch with a confused expression. Was he irritated with you for some reason? He didn't show it at the interview if he did have any hostile feelings... you reminded yourself that he was a rather gruff man, and maybe that just bled into his written words, too. You rolled your shoulders and started working out your reply.
Hello Simon! Tomorrow works perfect for me, I'll be there by 9 am!
Does Riley have any favorite places she likes to go? Any particular spots or trails she enjoys? Also, are there any rules you have for her, like being on the couch? Is she ok going to the dog park? Lastly, does she take any medications I should be aware of?
See you soon!
You sent the message, sighing and dropping your head back against the arm of the sofa. You were honestly thankful that you'd gotten the job, even if Simon was a rather stiff client. You finally quit your shitty job, and while you did still have babysitting your niece and nephew, you never charged for that - the only time you were "paid" for it was when you took them out somewhere fun, and your sister forced you to accept money for the admission fee.
So this gig fell into your lap at the perfect time. And the fact that you had beat every other person Simon had interviewed made your ego soar. It wouldn't be a bad idea to make a career out of this, you thought.
Your phone dinged - you held it above your face, and saw that Simon had already responded. You sat upright and opened the email.
she only takes aspirin when her leg flares up. no more than twice a day. no favorite trails, we just go around the block a few times. she can sit on the couch, my bed too, but she'll need help getting up. no human food is the only other rule. never took her to a dog park, but if you really want to, that's fine. she's good with other dogs.
Simon.
You frowned. Walking the same block every day, multiple times each day, sounded awful. It wasn't even close to animal neglect, but you couldn't imagine walking the same route every single time. If it didn't drive Riley insane, it certainly would for you.
You read back over the email, your eyes lingering on "if her legs flare up." Simon had never discussed Riley having arthritis with you - and you sincerely hoped that was the reason she had leg pain, and nothing else. You made a mental note to ask him about it tomorrow as you began to write your reply.
Understood. Thanks again!
--------------
"Here's the basement." Simon said, leading you down the stairs and into a dullish room. It had a cheaply-manufactured desk, what appeared to be a dining chair (not matching the dining set upstairs), a stuffed bookshelf, and some cardboard boxes filled with paper. A fan stood in the far corner, and next to it was the washing room. Much like what he had shown you of the rest of the house, it was bland and drab.
You looked around, letting out a polite noise of approval. Truth be told, Simon's life seemed awfully boring to you. Your mother had always told you that military men were always overly practical, in more than just home decor. They never cared much for the environment around them, as long as there was no mold, or anything similar. But you had never expected it to be so brutally true.
You knew he had a life outside of his home - from the way he described it, he was usually deployed more often than he was in his own home country. But you wondered - what did he do for fun, besides watch the telly? Did he have friends, and were they all like him? Any hobbies?
"If for whatever reason y' need to clean up a stain, you can find solution in there." He said, pointing to the washer room. "Other than that, nothin' much to see down 'ere."
You followed him as he trudged back up the stairs. Riley was sat upright on the floor, watching you and Simon move about the house with an observant expression.
"The only other things I'll ask you to do is hoover n' dust when it looks like it needs it." He said, leaning against the kitchen counter. "There really isn't much else t' do; of course, if you do see anything that needs fixin' you can always text me." He rolled his head from side to side, wincing as he worked out a crick in his neck. "Might not answer immediately, but I'll see it."
You nodded, standing in the walkway of the kitchen. Even with him leaning against the counter, muscles hidden under his sweatshirt, he was huge. For a brief moment, you imagined what he looked like on the field, dressed in his uniform and holding a gun - but you quickly shooed the thought from your mind before it had the chance to latch on and fester. "Gotcha. And just so I know, do you let Riley sleep with you?"
Simon paused in confusion before he responded. "Come again?"
"Like- you know, if I crash on the couch, is she allowed up with me?" You said, shifting your weight. You couldn't quite tell if Simon was irked by your question, or if he was genuinely confused.
He paused again. "Uh, yea, that's fine. If y' don't mind waking up covered in 'er slobber."
You laughed. "Nah, I'm used to it. A little drool never bothered me. Although, if I do need to wash up, am I alright to use the shower? Or would you rather I use my own back at my flat?"
Suddenly, it clicked in Simon's head. You were planning on sleeping at his house.
He had assumed you would just stop by for walks and meals - he didn't expect you to actually live here while he was gone, and he wasn't sure how it made him feel. He'd never had anyone else spend the night. Hell, no one ever visited, besides the rare occasions of the rest of the 141 stopping by. Even then, they never stayed for longer than a conversation or two.
But, once he took a second to think about it, he realized it might be better if you did stay - at least, while he was on missions. Riley would be bored out of her mind if she was alone that long, especially after spending the past several weeks with Simon constantly there. It would be good for someone to be there when he wasn't, and you seemed like you would be the best person for that, of course.
"Sure, 's fine." He said, rubbing the back of his head. "Just don't touch my shit in there."
"Don't worry about that..." You said quietly, "catch me dead and cold before I touch a 3-in-1 anything."
He chuckled and rolled his eyes. It was refreshing that you could handle his gruffness - most people treated him like a landmine, never wanting to say the wrong thing and set him off. You seemed to have taken life by the horns, like you weren't afraid to bite back at someone. He wondered if that was all for show, or if you really would snap back if he was to test you...
He pushed himself off the counter and reached into the drawer behind him, pulling out a spare key. He walked over to you and held it out. You were just about to take it, when he suddenly yanked it back.
You faltered. "Sorry...?"
"You lose this key..." Simon began lowly, "n' I'll frame you for murder. Understood?"
You gaped, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He didn't really mean that... did he? You waited for him to laugh and say he was just joking... but he never did. His eyes bored into yours so intensely, making you shiver, as he waited for you to answer.
"Y-yes, sir. Understood." You said, voice wavering a bit.
He grunted in satisfaction, then handed you the key. You let out the breath you had been holding, then cautiously took the key, before immediately attaching it to your lanyard. You didn't want to take any chances at losing it - not after Simon's threat. You took a deep breath and smiled at him, trying to dust the exchange off of your shoulders.
"You can come 'round tomorrow after o' nine hundred, I'll be out by then." He said, turning sideways to moce past you and heading towards the door. You followed behind and rubbed Riley's head when you passed her; she let out a contented sound.
"Feel free t' use the kitchen if you'll be stayin' overnight." He opened the door for you and leaned against it.
"Will do, thank you!" You chirped, hovering on the landing outside of his house, right were you were two days ago. "Thank you for showing me around - good luck on your- mission- deployment, thingamajig!"
He huffed. "Promise I will, luv."
Your spine tingled in response to his comment. Get it together, don't get your knickers in a twist over a client. You thought. You straightened your posture and cleared your throat.
"Well, see you around!" You said with a smile, then hopped down the steps to your car.
Simon waved, taking a moment to watch you pull out of his driveway. He shut the door and leaned back against it, exhaling slowly through his nostrils.
He was an observant man - he had to be, with his occupation. Your reaction to being called "luv" didn't fly over his head. And it's not like Simon didn't know the effect he had on women... he knew how he looked, how he presented himself, and he saw the reactions it got him.
But with you, something felt different. He saw your reaction, and a part of him wanted to chase after it. To see what you would do if he continued to apply pressure to your weak spots. Would you blush? Would you call him out? Would you drop the gig altogether?
He thought about how easily the word "sir" had rolled off of your tongue. He thought about how you would look, all tuckered out on his couch, donned in whatever pajamas you decided to wear, your face peaceful and expression soft as you slept - he imagined you in his shower, the room filled with warm steam and the scent of your shampoo, water hitting your skin as you-
Riley barked, making Simon jolt where he stood. She stared at him, ears turned to the side as she whined. She could always tell when he began to dissociate, and knew just as much as he did that it wasn't a good sign.
Simon sighed, running a hand down his face. "Get it together, fuckin' creep." He muttered to himself. "I need a bloody hobby, f' Christ's sake..."
He blamed it on the upcoming mission. He would typically stress about it beforehand, and if there was anything else that could occupy his mind, he would fixate on it. Right now, unfortunately, you were the victim. But he buried it deep down into his subconscious - it wasn't fair to you.
He pushed himself off of the door and headed towards the washroom, adjusting his crotch as he went. He figured he should at least tidy it up a bit, since you would be using it. The only other people who had been in there were Johnny and Captain Price, and of course, they never cared if there were trimmers on the counter, or if the mirror had splotches from toothpaste residue.
Hopefully, he'd forget all about you - at least, while he was on the mission.
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NARUTO series creator Masashi Kishimoto reacts to Toriyama's passing.
"I honestly don't know what to write about this sudden event.
But for now, I would like to share my thoughts and feelings that I had hoped for one day Mr. Toriyama would ask me about it.
I grew up with his manga, Dr. Slump in the lower grades of elementary school and Dragon Ball in the upper grades, and it was natural for me to have his manga as a part of my life.
Even when I was having a bad day, the weekly Dragon Ball made me forget about it. As a country boy with nothing, that was a relief to me.
I really enjoyed Dragon Ball too much!
I was a college student. Suddenly, Dragon Ball, which had been a part of my life for so many years, came to an end.
I felt a tremendous sense of loss and didn't know what to look forward to.
But at the same time, it was an opportunity for me to truly understand the greatness of the master who created Dragon Ball.
I wanted to create a work like his!
I wanted to be just like him!
And as I followed in his footsteps to become a manga artist, I began to feel less and less lost.
It was because I enjoyed making manga.
By following him, I was able to find new enjoyment.
Sensei was always my guide.
He was my admirer.
I may be annoying to him, but I am grateful to him.
For me, he was truly the God of salvation and the God of manga.
When I first met him, I was too nervous to say a single word.
But after meeting him many times at the Tezuka Award judging, I became able to talk.
I will never forget the slightly embarrassed smile on his face when he and Mr. Oda talked excitedly about how Dragon Ball was fun, as if they were children again and were engaged in a competition.
I just received the news of Sensei's passing.
I feel a tremendous sense of loss, more than when Dragon Ball ended...
I still don't know how to deal with this hole in my heart.
I can't even read Dragon Ball, which I love.
I don't even feel like I can write this message to Sensei properly.
Everyone in the world was still looking forward to your work.
If I could really have one Dragon Ball wish come true...I'm sorry...
That may be selfish of me, but I am sad, Sensei.
Akira Toriyama-sensei, thank you for 45 years of enjoyable works.
And thank you for your hard work.
I am sure that his family members are still deeply saddened by this loss.
Please take care of yourselves.
I pray that Akira Toriyama-sensei may rest in peace."
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