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#just wondering what y’all prefer :)
saerins · 1 year
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─── 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄
+ sae x f!reader | wc 5.3k
notes: i’m in love with this man, and wrote this on a whim :’) hope y’all like it !! feedback & reblogs are greatly appreciated !! <3
summary: you’ve known sae since you were both sixteen. he’s always dreamed of going overseas and facing the world, will he ever be ready to come home?
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𝐒𝐈𝐗𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍
sae can read almost everyone flawlessly, you included.
he’s not close to you, not at all. physically? yes, because you’re his seat partner. but in all other aspects? no, definitely not.
you’re scared of him, he can tell. whenever he moves, you get self-conscious, immediately pulling your own chair in, giving him way. then you check on him as he moves away, because you’re scared that somehow you’ve managed to offend him.
you never did. because to offend sae, you’d need to be someone who can even bother him in the first place.
sae doesn’t care about what you do though, he just happens to notice you. out of convenience, because he sees you every monday to friday and sits next to you for every class.
it’s the same routine thing every week—you sit next to each other, barely say a word all day and then before he knows it, it’s the end of school day.
it doesn’t even matter. you don’t matter.
nobody really does.
he peeks at you out of the corner of his eyes, your eyes peering down at your paper with the utmost concentration. he quickly looks away though, because the last thing he wants is to get caught and be labeled as a cheater on a history quiz. especially when he’s not cheating.
yeah, you really don’t matter.
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𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍
soccer, soccer, soccer.
that’s all sae can think of nowadays. just do whatever he can to improve his skills, everything else is up for debate.
you’re still his seatmate, still ever so distant. he gives you credit though, for greeting him every morning now even though you look terrified and nervous all the time.
“good morning.”
today is no exception. sae’s eyes flick up to you and then back down to his desk, and that’s all of the acknowledgement you get, as usual. it’s nothing personal, he just doesn’t want to get into small talk at all.
but he’ll give you points for trying, even if he doesn’t exactly know what’s going through your head right now. somehow, he can’t read you as well anymore.
that’s how you usually are now, the newer version of you. a little more upbeat, a little friendlier, less awkward but still as shy as he first pegged you to be.
well, now you’re just slightly more amusing. somehow, sae starts to find himself wondering how you’d react to different situations.
it’s almost the middle of the school year and you’d kept up with your usual greetings everyday. sae keeps up with his usual stoic demeanour on his part.
until today.
“good morning!” you’re extra chirpy today, he notices.
sae blinks at you once, twice, and you’re still smiling at him, and he’d like to know whether you’re still that same nervous mess inside, so he opens his mouth this time.
“morning, y/n.”
simple, easy, basic courtesy.
but somehow you’re looking at him as though he’s a fucking freak.
to be fair, that’s exactly what he expected. but it’s now been a whole minute and you’re still staring dumbly at him.
“what?”
you shake your head, laughing sheepishly as you take your seat beside him, “nothing, it’s just… you never bothered talking to me before.”
sae shrugs, because it’s not like he bothers now, per se. he’s just—what’s the word—bored? “i can shut up too if you prefer that.”
“no!”
you look so embarrassed by your quick outburst that sae almost snickers. that’s the most reaction you’ve nearly managed to get out of him yet.
“i mean,” you stutter, looking for the right words to say, and maybe sae is getting a little bit of an ego boost right now because he can tell you’re flustered. “you’re pretty terrifying most of the time so…”
he knows what you mean, but he acts like he doesn’t. “oh, so you like terrifying? okay, i can do that.”
the way your face instantly switches to a straight expression is fucking amusing, and for a split second his guard falls and you get to hear him snicker.
luckily, the bell rings right after and mr hayato is never late. sae never got to hear what you thought of that.
every single day after that passes by a little bit easier, your non-friendship inching a little closer together, sae might even consider you an acquaintance now.
he converses with you a lot more fluidly (as much as he allows himself to—he doesn’t like you being too comfortable, likes to keep you on your toes), and he finds himself teaching you things he notices you’re absolutely horrible at.
like logarithms, because no matter how much you try to wrap your head around it, you refuse to ask anyone for help. you’re a little stubborn, but sae can live with that, just has to speak to you in a way that doesn’t seem like you look like you need help.
“no, you’re forgetting that the log of e is always one, there, see?” sae sighs as he explains, because you’re quite muddle-headed. “it’ll be much easier once you get all the definitions in your head.”
“were you born a genius or something?” you ask innocently upon catching his test scores. a 94 out of 100, compared to your 63.
that day, neither of you notice the fact that other people are beginning to notice your growing friendship.
sae starts tutoring you whenever he can, because apparently you’re hopeless without his help. (he says this to your face. he’s always straight with you.) and then he finds himself noticing you in ways he never did before.
how you look absolutely angelic when the sun hits your face. he notices the way you puff out your cheeks when you’re thinking hard. even the perfume that wafts through the air. you smell good.
this is ridiculous.
“hun, do you want any—”
fuck. sae’s head whips around to see an older woman at your door, almost a carbon copy of you, eyes wide as her gaze falls onto him.
no, he’s not particularly nervous or feels like he should be, but something tells you if your mother is anything like you, she’d misunderstand. this is just a lot more trouble than it’s worth. you’re a lot more trouble than it’s worth. what’s he even getting out of tutoring you?
“oh hi there! and who might you be?”
he can see stars in her eyes, all hopeful and excited as she shifts her gaze between you and sae and back to you again.
“mom! he’s no one—” ouch, he’s tutoring you and you introduce him as no one? “a friend and he’s tutoring me for some math stuff so could you…?”
it’s like the gears are turning in your mother’s head when she eyes sae knowingly. god, he has to do some damage control. don’t want either of you expecting anything much out of him.
“i’m itoshi sae,” he introduces himself, shaking her hand. “i just make time to tutor some of my classmates to earn extra credit.”
not even close to true, but neither of you need to know that. he’d much rather spend his free time getting in some training or going to the gym but he decided maybe he could spend a few hours out of today to help your dumbass with numbers.
he’s an expert at sidestepping small talk and in no time at all, your mother’s out of the room. you still seem embarrassed, he can feel the heat emanating from your cheeks.
“concentrate,” sae sighs, and he wonders why he’s even doing this for you. he’d rather go home right now, he thinks, maybe kick the ball around with rin, or just lie down in bed because waking up at 4am to train every morning is taking its toll.
you mumble a hushed apology and rub the sleepiness from your eyes. the both of you had been at this for a couple of hours now, maybe looking at numbers too much is making you tired too.
sae acknowledges you’re a fast learner though, if you have a proper teacher. he’s not surprised that ms kina’s teachings are lost on you—she’s not that good at explaining concepts. sae is, though. he usually doesn’t bother sharing but hey, maybe now is just a glitch in the matrix, maybe now he’s just trying to do good samaritan things and help you out so you don’t fail the damn midterm test.
“okay then, see you,” he says, picking up his bag and slinging it around his shoulders, only to have you grab his wrist. “what?”
you look a little bashful once you realise what you did, and then you let go of him immediately. you look like you really want to say something, but you don’t, you just shake your head.
don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it.
sae’s putting his bag back down before he knows it, and he groans internally. “say it.”
“if-if you don’t mind, maybe we could schedule a tutoring session every week?” you’re so, so timid and so, so soft.
he blinks once, twice, realising what you actually mean to say. you don’t want the tutoring session, apart from logarithms you’re fine with pure numbers, but you want time. with him.
it boosts his ego a little, if he’s being honest.
“i’m too busy with my soccer trainings,” he tells you, nonchalant until he sees how quick your expression falls and then he has to hate himself for continuing, “i have some time on friday evenings though.”
like a puppy, you’re instantly chirpy again, saying how maybe he could tutor you after he’s done with whatever stuff, and how you’d get a head start and grab some seats at a cafe or something.
you’re both seventeen when your weekly tutoring sessions start. it’s beyond himself why he agreed. all he knows is that he doesn’t particularly like being the reason your expression goes sad.
first week in, you’re still too nervous, too jumpy.
the second week, you’re a little too full of nonsense, daring to laugh at him, or with him, depending.
by the fifth week, your bare arm is already brushing his and you’re not even flinching.
you’re both seventeen when sae realises that maybe he cares for you. in the way lovers do. in the way he gets you to walk on the safer side of the sidewalk. in the way he sends you home every friday. in the way he actually responds to your goodnight texts and wakes up waiting for your good morning.
in the way he listens when you tell him that your mother is actually sick, that you want to take care of her. that your dream is simple—to find your passion one day, and to be able to earn enough to let your mother live peacefully, to help her fight whatever she has to because you don’t want her to be alone.
in the way, for the first time in his life, he reaches out to you, putting his hand on top of yours as he lets you cry on his shoulder.
your birthday falls on a friday this year, and he tells you not to bring your books that day in class. you look at him with pure shock, but then quickly adjust yourself and bring up a grateful smile.
“yes, sir.”
that night he meets you up on the rooftop of your complex, in the middle of the carpark, and you’ve never looked any happier than you did when you saw him holding that petite round galaxy cake in his hands, the sparkler candles so pretty in the night.
“happy birthday.”
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𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍
the next school year starts and sae enters into it still close to you as ever. you haven’t met in just over a month, what with sae’s intense training camps and your family holiday. but the both of you still talk to each other daily, and he finds himself waiting for your response every night.
it’s like the both of you are in a relationship, but neither of you are saying anything about it. whatever this relationship-non-relationship is, sae thinks he likes it.
but it’s barely three months into the school year and sae has to break your heart.
“it’s the opportunity of a lifetime, i’m sure you understand right?” his coach rambles on, disgusting with how he’s talking with his mouth full and chips keep falling out of it.
sae nods, because he does. he’s almost sure he’ll go for it. it’s not everyday kids from japan get offered a spot to play for a european club.
“great! so let’s get your parents involved and get you to spain.”
“yeah, sure.”
it’s frustrating how he’s not more excited. it’s there, but it’s faint, because it’s lingering on the traces of his feelings for you. he’s never really thought this far, and maybe that was his fault. he’ll keep that in mind; he can’t risk this situation again. he can’t risk getting your hopes up and being the reason that they’ll never recover.
minimise damage, yeah, that’s what he has to do.
you go from talking endlessly in class to being quiet because sae is trying to concentrate. you go from meeting every friday outside of school to every other friday, to once every month, to none at all. you go from texting a good morning and a goodnight every day to barely getting responses from sae, barely ever even get your messages read.
then one day sae just doesn’t show up to school at all. and you finally hear that he’s been scouted for a club in spain, that he’s going to be away for god knows how long. and then you realise that maybe that’s why he’s been distant lately, because you refuse to believe that the sae who took so much time out of his busy schedule for you, the sae who made the effort to buy you a birthday cake and spend all night on the carpark just listening to you talk on and on about insignificant things because you were nervous, the sae who you fell in love with—you refuse to believe it wasn’t real.
that’s why you hold your hopes up and ride your bicycle to his house, which you’ve been to once before, just outside though, because you’d asked him where he lived and he finally obliged. it’s still beautiful as ever, neat garden lined with flowers and a soccer field in the back.
when you knock on the gate, you see a familiar face come out; it’s itoshi rin, his younger brother. you only know that because sae’s spoken about him a few times, and you saw a picture of the both of them together on his phone.
“oh, um, hi, who are you?” rin asks, cautiously, because evidently, he’s never seen you.
“uh, i’m one of sae’s… classmates,” you decide, and it stings that you realise you can’t even say that anymore. how did it all spiral from cloud nine? “is he home?”
rin blinks a few times. his lower lashes are slightly longer than sae’s, he’s carrying a soccer ball, and you just know he’s been training all day because he’s sweating from head to toe. sae has said rin wanted to be a striker just like him.
“oh, didn’t you hear? my big bro got scouted, he left for spain last night.”
it shouldn’t be this upsetting—he isn’t even your boyfriend. no matter how much you wanted him to be. he was just… someone you studied with, spent time with, made efforts for.
but something forms in the pit of your stomach when you hear that sae’s already gone, that he’s already halfway to spain without even saying goodbye, without giving you any warning.
you’d thought whatever friendship you had with him was worth more than a silent goodbye, than a one-sided decision.
“o-oh, okay, thanks!”
you bolt off before rin can say anything else, it’s better that no one can see you crying anyway.
that night once you’ve sort of calmed down, you open up sae’s message thread, which as of late is mostly a string of messages from you and sae only replying with oh or i see or i’m busy.
the last time he even bothered replying to you was last week when you asked if he wanted to watch a movie together and he said a simple no.
“you’re an ass, itoshi sae,” you cry to yourself as you bring up the keyboard on your phone, your tears falling onto the screen.
i hate you, itoshi sae.
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𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍
soccer is the same; thrilling, tiring, demanding.
it’s been a year since he left japan and he’s still surviving, still thriving, still being revered as a genius midfielder. sae knows he has what it takes to bring victory to a good enough team, that’s what he came here for anyway—to be the best in the world.
“good job out there, sae,” the captain claps him on the back, but sae’s mind isn’t there.
it’s been a year since he left japan and he still pulls up the last message you ever sent him.
i hate you, itoshi sae.
perhaps it’s good that you do. there’s no place for your dreams in spain, or anywhere else in the world except for japan. you need to move on from him. maybe you already did, from what he hears from his classmates who still check in on him from time to time.
the first time sae hears about how some other guy asked you out, he can’t say he doesn’t care. but he’s relinquished his right to be jealous, so he barely responds to the news.
but maybe he’s beginning to see where he fucked up, because he shouldn’t have gotten close to you in the first place, should’ve just left you alone.
instead now he’s left with this sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. is this how it feels like to really miss someone?
𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘
you’re now in college and you’re past whatever happened in high school. itoshi sae still lingers in the crevices of your mind, with his teal eyes and his pretty lashes and the way his hand felt when they were on top of yours.
some part of you thinks you’d never get over him, but you have to make peace with that. just because he never bothered to give you closure doesn’t mean he should be allowed to ruin your life.
besides, you’re pretty sure he read what you last sent him. there’s really nothing else for you to do if he doesn’t even bother talking to you.
you’d been trying to properly move on anyway, and that’s exactly what you try to do later that night, after accepting ryusei shido’s invitation to dinner.
he’s like the opposite of sae, though. he’s all expressive and goofy and wild because he’s got you trespassing on private property just to borrow their garden and he likes to drive fast, really fast, because he loves the wind in his hair.
if you had met him first, you’d probably be in love with the rush he gives you, the adrenaline pumping through your veins. when he kissed you, if only you didn’t have itoshi sae in your head, then maybe you’d have kissed him back.
when you’re twenty, you find out that maybe you can’t move on without giving itoshi sae a piece of your mind.
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𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐎𝐍𝐄
sae’s career has been rapidly progressing, he’s part of the starting team and is hailed as one of the world’s up-and-coming top soccer stars.
the earlier game cemented it.
his team won, with the commentators naming him as the most valuable player, assisting in all the goals scored by his team.
when he’s pulled aside for an interview, he can’t help but wonder whether you’d be watching through the television, hanging on his every word. or maybe you’d already moved on with this shido guy he hears about.
fuck that shido guy.
and when an interviewer asks whether there’s anyone special in his life that motivates him, he finds himself wishing he could say your name.
“nothing of that sort.”
interviews pass by quickly, as they always do for him because he’s not much of an interview guy, with his stoic expressions and lacklustre responses. he’s on the way back to the locker room when he hears a familiar voice calling out to him.
“sae!”
he spins around to find his mother and father there, surprising him. they must’ve heard he was playing and booked a flight out. rin’s not here though.
“rin’s busy with some soccer matches of his own back at home,” his father explains, as if he read his mind. “he couldn’t make it, but he’s surely watching the match from home.”
how silly of sae to have wished that it was you calling out to him, for that split second. you’re still in his head, and that’s annoying.
“oh! sweetheart,” his mother coos after she’s done gushing over his game, “we ran into one of your friends earlier! what’s her name—ah wait there she is!”
sae furrows his brows, following his mother’s gaze and finds you there, hugging the walls, sheepishly waving your hand at him. he’s starting to doubt his vision, maybe you’re just his imagination, maybe his mother’s looking at someone else.
“hey, sae,” you greet him, mellow and polite.
he’s still standing there like he’s the one who’s starstruck, like you’re the famous one. are you really here?
“what are you doing here?”
not the best greeting, but that’s the most he can muster when he hasn’t seen or heard from you in over three years.
you smile, and he thinks he might melt, but he doesn’t because he’s just told—lied to—the world that there’s no one special to him.
“what’s wrong with supporting one of my friends?” you say, as though this is a neighbourhood soccer match and you didn’t have to fly halfway across the world for it.
“itoshi! get in here!” by the sound of his voice, it’s the captain talking. sae doesn’t even want to take his eyes off of you, but he has to.
“go,” you tell him, “i’m staying near the airport, if, uh, you wanted to do anything afterwards.”
does he?
sae swallows the lump in his throat and nods. “yeah, okay.”
that night, he figures out which hotel you’re staying at and pays you a visit—it annoys him how fast his heart is beating and how your sudden presence threatens to mess up his life.
he knocks on your door, and you open it, beaming at him when you see him. “i thought we were meeting at the restaurant,” you say as you let him in, closing the door behind him.
“i was just passing by, sent my parents to the airport and thought i would just drop by,” he answers, lying through his teeth. his parents are still somewhere in spain and he just wanted to see you sooner, that’s all.
“well, i’m still getting ready,” you tell him, straightening your dress and looking at yourself in the mirror.
how is it possible you keep getting prettier everyday? your hair’s a little longer now, and you look more mature, you’ve learned to do makeup, and your dress hugs your body in just the right places. he’s cursing himself for staring at you.
“i thought you’d be too busy to come out with me tonight, honestly,” you confess, putting on some lipstick.
sae has to look away, “and i thought you hated me.”
that has you stopping in your tracks; this conversation happened earlier than you expected, but you’d been gunning for this all the same.
“yeah, well you left japan without saying a word to me, like i was just anyone else.”
he understands why you’d think that. that was what he was going for anyway, and it reminds him what he should be doing instead of entertaining you right now. sae should be rejecting you, you and your efforts, should turn away from you like you’re another one of his fangirls.
“why?”
but the shakiness in your voice takes him off guard.
“why what?”
“why didn’t you say anything?”
“i didn’t have to,” sae responds, simply, like he doesn’t owe you a damn thing.
“was i imagining it?” you ask, finally turning around and looking him in his eyes.
no, no you weren’t.
“i don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“then why are you here, sae?” you burst out, and he stills in his position, feet glued to the floor. “you wouldn’t give a second thought to people you don’t care about, so what now?”
“i was just taking an old friend out to dinner, that’s all.”
he’s stubborn, so so stubborn. he’s hoping he’ll hold out.
“i don’t get you,” you mutter softly, to yourself or to him, he doesn’t even fucking know.
sae really shouldn’t, but he thinks about how he might never see you again and tries, “what do you want?”
“what are you talking about?”
“do you know what you want?” sae turns it around on you. “you flew halfway across the world to get here, for what? for me?”
he’s intimidating when he speaks a little louder than usual, and you shrink back just slightly.
“i-i wanted to talk to you,” you try your hardest to form an excuse but it’s not working.
“and what did you want out of that?”
you fall flat, and you feel like giving up. you know the answer, but you don’t want to admit it. you don’t want to tell him that you wanted him to want you too, you don’t want to admit that you’ve been thinking about him nearly all the time and what could’ve been.
“just forget it,” you relent, averting your gaze, but the next moment you feel an unfamiliar sensation on your lips, the taste of his on yours.
sae doesn’t know why he’s doing it, but his body moves on its own; something he got from playing that manages to bleed into his daily life, apparently.
you taste so much better than he expected, and you feel like you belong in his arms, like you’re made for him because there’s absolutely no one else in the whole fucking world who could ever bring itoshi sae to his knees.
he’s been in denial all this time, yes, and he’s tired of it. if you came all the way here, he’s not wasting it. he pulls away from you, absolutely dazed by the wanting look in your eyes.
you’re twenty one years old when you first hear itoshi sae telling you he loves you.
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𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐖𝐎
“someone’s chirpy,” your mother says from the couch, looking up from her ipad. “i sense… a date with sae.”
you roll your eyes, throwing one of the cushions at her. “mom, shut up,” you groan, still embarrassed whenever she calls you out for it.
sae’s still in spain most of the time, but the both of you make it work. you make a point to video call at least twice a week, and he responds to you like a normal boyfriend does. it’s back to that good morning, goodnight love you shared back in high school. he makes as much time as he can, and you appreciate him for it.
“i’m glad you’re happy, sweetie,” she tells you, and you smile gratefully.
you’re more than relieved now that she’s managed to fight the cancer off. it’s the only reason she pushed you to go see sae last year. you technically wouldn’t have done it without her.
a knock on your door signals that he’s here, and your mom gives you a knowing look before she excuses herself to her room.
when you open the front door, you feel a burst of excitement when you see sae there holding a bouquet of flowers.
“happy birthday, pretty.”
even when he’s busy, even when he’s swamped, he’ll never stop making you feel like you’re on top of the world.
both of you are twenty-two when sae decides that you’re his world.
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𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄
this is the year you find out long distance is actually really really hard.
sometimes sae loses the match, and sometimes he can’t separate friend from foe from you. he gets frustrated, and so you do too. he has less than kind words when he’s venting, and you happen to be on the receiving end.
sometimes you get stressed from your finals projects, and you push him away, and sae leaves you to it. sae doesn’t check up on you as much as you’d like to, and you’re a little too stubborn to tell him that you mind.
sometimes sae would get interviewed and would have to address dating rumours, whether it’s the upcoming supermodel from america or that renowned sexy sports photographer from brazil—it’s hard not to get jealous, especially when you’re kept private.
you can’t blame him for that, not when everyone likes to send hate to the pretty girl he’s supposedly dating.
this is also where you find out that itoshi sae knows you better than anyone. it’s where he always leaves you a reminder he loves you, even when you’re fighting. it’s where he sends you a goodnight text even when you’ve hung up the phone hours ago in anger. it’s where he keeps japan in his weather app just so he can tell you not to be a klutz and fall down when it’s raining. it’s where he declares on international television that no, he’s not available but that’s none of their business.
even if you yearn for him to be next to you at times, sae’s off doing what he’s always wanted to do, and you’re not going to let yourself be a burden—so you do what you want to do, because the last thing you want the headlines to blast is the fact that itoshi sae’s girlfriend is a good-for-nothing.
twenty-three is the age where you start writing articles for a local magazine company, where you take lead on fashion articles while occasionally helping with the sports section.
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𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑
both of your careers are in full flight.
so is your relationship.
sae’s always proud of you, of your achievements, of your efforts even if they didn’t bear fruit. you’re doing so well, making yourself a name in Japan with your articles, with your wonderful insights and funny wit.
he always reads your articles, tells his assistant to get a subscription on the magazine and send it to sae’s hotel, always reads the articles you write. he doesn’t tell you about that though. doesn’t want you getting a big head.
and every time you talk on the phone about your articles and how hard it was to write or how you’re afraid people will take it the wrong way, he acts like he doesn’t even know which article you’re talking about. (he absolutely does.)
“hey, when’s my contract ending again?”
sae’s assistant looks up from his ipad from his seat across him on the private jet. he blinks twice before rifling through his different folders.
“oh, next year.”
a ghost of a smile appears on sae’s face and his assistant thinks he’s hallucinating.
“good.”
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𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄
sae is twenty-five years old when he finally decides he’s ready to come home.
it makes the headlines—how he quit the club and refused to play for them anymore, the reason being that he wants to go back to his roots.
back to you.
because now, at your front door, after he knocks once, twice, and you open it, surprised, sae’s never been more sure that he’s making the right decision.
after all, you’re the only one in the world capable of bringing itoshi sae to his knee.
“will you marry me?”
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reiding-writing · 10 days
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hi! could you write prompt 6 from the angsty dialogue prompts for the climacteric event? fem/gn reader whatever you prefer, i was thinking that reader finds out something about spencer and it results in this messy situation, but honestly how you want to do it is all up to you!
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JEALOUSY [CLIMACTERIC]
6. “Don’t touch me.”
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WARNINGS: spencer is a bit of a twat but apologises profusely afterwards, arguing, happy? ending
spencer reid x gn!reader || angst || 2.5k || event masterlist!!
main masterlist!!
a/n: majority vote chose this one to come out first 🫶 they also chose for it to have a happy ending bc y’all are really boring /j (i love you guys you aren’t boring i swear 🫶)
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Spencer Reid grew up too fast.
He was remarkably smart for his age, that much was a given, but in terms of emotional development Spencer was forced to skip what should’ve been his childhood.
He didn’t get to experience what it felt like be praised over a rudimentary piece of ‘art’ by his parents, because he was ‘too intelligent’ for that.
He didn’t get to go out on a Saturday morning with his father to learn how to play a ball game because his dad was never around.
He didn’t get to be coddled by his mother when he cried because by the time he was nine he was her full time carer.
Ironically, his childhood was an era of time where he could barely remember a single detail, despite his renowned eidetic memory, and it only seemed to further prove that Spencer Reid’s childhood didn’t exist.
All he could remember was what didn’t happen. The key milestones of his life that he never got to live through.
To say that impacted his emotional availability was an understatement. Spencer had never been one to ask for help from other people, but in instances where he really felt like he was about to fall apart it was even worse. He’d grown up with the expectation that he was responsible for his own well being. That him and him alone was the only thing that could get him through whatever dark patch that he went through.
He didn’t need anyone else. He wasn’t allowed anyone else. It was just him, always.
You were decidedly the opposite. You wore your emotions on your sleeve, and for the most part, Spencer found it entirely refreshing to watch you be able to express yourself with no holds barred and no internal monologue telling you that what you were doing was wrong.
Sometimes he wished he could do the same.
There were times of his career where he wished you’d do something wrong, that you’d make a mistake or cross a boundary and it’d allow him to exert all of the anger and deep-seeded jealously he felt whenever he saw you be so open with yourself.
He knew it was horrible of him, and more often than not the minute those thoughts invaded his mind he thought of nothing more than how much of a terrible person he was. He was wishing ill on you just because you’d managed to have a healthy emotional output.
Because he was inherently broken from all the years of keeping everything to himself.
“Are you okay?”
Spencer furrowed his eyebrows at the sound of your voice, gaze turning upwards from the mug of coffee sitting on the kitchenette counter to meet your face, covered in worry lines as you furrow your own eyebrows.
He hated when you looked at him like that. Like he was something to be pitied.
“I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?” Spencer presses his lips together in an awkward line of a smile, a staple of his character that seemed much less genuine than usual from your point of view.
“You’ve uh- You’ve been stood here staring at your mug for almost five minutes,” Spencer flickers his eyes up to the analogue clock on the wall at your declaration.
You were right, he’d been stood in a state of dissociation for almost a whole five minutes without realising it. Great, that’s just wonderful. Like his life couldn’t get any worse.
“Everything’s fine,” He gives you another one of those awkward smiles as he takes his mug in between both of his hands, the ceramic barely even warm anymore, which tells him that his coffee isn’t hot enough for him to actually enjoy it, but right now he’d take a cup of warm coffee over standing here talking to you about his ‘feelings’.
But you’ve never made things easy.
“It’s not though is it? Something’s wrong Spencer, everyone in the office can tell,” You sigh softly at the indignation on his face as you prod at what’s going on inside his head. “We’re worried about you…” You reach out your hand slowly to lay it on his arm, and he pulls away from you without a second thought.
“Please don’t touch me,” He takes a step to the side, clearly trying to bypass you and get back to his desk so he can escape the conversation. “I said I’m fine.”
“And you’re lying Spencer.” You step in the same direction that he does, effectively blocking his path out of the kitchenette. “We need to know what the issue is or we can’t help you Spencer,” Your voice is tinged with a small amount of desperation, and it irks Spencer in a way that he can’t even fully comprehend.
“You want to know what the issue is?” He puts his mug back down on the counter with enough force that small droplets of coffee spill over the rim and onto the granite underneath it. “It’s you.”
He leans forward slightly like he’s trying to emphasise his point. “You are the issue.”
His words hit you like a ton of bricks, and all of a sudden you’re regretting caring so much.
God you’re beginning to regret even waking up this morning. Maybe that would’ve spared you from the stake in your heat that was Spencer Reid explicitly telling you that you were the sole reason why he was acting differently. Why he was being cold and distant from the team and their genuine want to just make sure he’s okay.
Because they couldn’t do that. Because you were a part of the team. And as long as you were there that coldness wouldn’t go away.
“Right…” You press your lips into a line. “Sorry for asking.”
Spencer regrets what he said almost as soon as the words come out of his mouth. He watches as that usual sparkle of compassion in your eyes literally fizzles out right in front of him, and all of a sudden he feels like an absolutely horrible person.
As you turn to leave he reaches out a hand to stop you. He doesn’t know what he’s going to say, how could he possibly redeem himself after a comment like that? But his body runs on autopilot and all he knows is that he needs to apologise to you. “Wait—”
“Don’t— touch me Reid,” You pull your arms further into yourself to stop him from reaching out to them, and he swears his heart breaks at the sight of you being dismissive. And then there was the added blow of you using his surname to further distance yourself from him and making him want to cut out his tongue so saying something so rash with absolutely zero provocation. “I understood you the first time.”
It was a complete turn of your character, all semblance of warmth and vulnerability evaporated and replaced with a cold, hard shell that Spencer could see calcifying behind your eyes.
“I-“
“I’ll leave you be now.”
And with that you disappear around the corner, leaving Spencer alone with his thoughts. His terrible thoughts that rightfully pummel him into the ground for so much as suggesting that you could ever be a problem.
When you said you’d “Leave him be”, he didn’t think it meant you’d literally avoid him like the plague. God you’d even roped Emily into switching desks with you so you wouldn’t have to sit opposite him anymore.
How was he supposed to grovel for your forgiveness if you wouldn’t so much as spare him a glance?
How was he supposed to explain to the team that the reason the two of you suddenly weren’t talking to each other was because he’d fucked up so badly that he felt like he was going to implode?
And most importantly, how on earth was Spencer Reid supposed to make you listen to him so he could explain himself and try to reconcile with you?
He’d considered cornering you in the break room, or catching you in an elevator on your way to the parking lot, but he knew that would only make things worse.
He’d considered turning up to your apartment your favourite snacks and begging you to let him inside, but that would be weird and borderline stalkerish.
He was really running out of ideas, and the longer he went without saying something the deeper he felt he was being pulled into the pit of despair that he’d dug himself to the point where he wasn’t sure if he as going to be able to claw himself out of it.
He had to speak to you. And he had to make sure that you didn’t run away.
The opportunity practically handed itself to him during a case. He knew budget cuts would mean that the team paired up when staying at a NYC hotel, and after some under the table begging for the other team members to room with each other so you didn’t have any choice but to room with him, he took his chance.
There was a very obvious blanket of tension between the two of you as you entered the room together, your apparent vow of silence continuing as you dump your bag on one of the twin beds to claim it as your own before shutting yourself into the bathroom to ready yourself for sleep.
He could tell that you weren’t happy about the arrangement, and despite how much you were distancing yourself from him you still wore your emotions on your sleeve, and right now they were telling him that you would literally rather be anywhere else.
You skirt past him as you exit the bathroom in your pyjamas, leaving your clothes and your bag on one of the decorative chairs to climb into bed with the continued silent treatment you’re serving him.
Spencer sighs dejectedly as he watches you take a seat on the edge of the bed with your back to him. “Can we talk? Please?”
“What is there to talk about?” Your voice washes him like a cold shower, your vocal chords dipped in ice and your words a perfect combination of blunt and dismissive. He can’t see your expression as you speak, but has a pretty good idea of the furrowing of your eyebrows and the narrowing of your gaze.
“I want—” Spencer lets out another sigh, raking his fingers through his hair in internal frustration. “I need to apologise to you. What I said was horrible and I’m sorry,”
“I don’t forgive you.”
As much as the words cut through his heart like a knife, he can’t blame you.
“I understand… I just wanted you to know that I really regret what I said, and that it’s been tearing me up thinking about it,”
“Right…” You let out a short, sarcastic laugh that causes Spencer’s eyebrows to furrow. “Because it’s all about you right?”
“That’s not what I—”
“Goodnight Reid.” You punctuate your sentence by shutting of the lamp on your side of the room, officially putting an end to your side of the ‘conversation’.
Spencer wasn’t done with it quite yet.
“I’m jealous of you. That’s why I said that ‘you were an issue’. You’re not. I am the issue and I was projecting it on to you. That was unfair of me and I need you to understand that I am apologising to do right by you, not to make myself feel better.”
“You have no reason to be jealous of me Reid,” You still haven’t turned to face him, but he’d rather be talking to your back than not be talking to you at all.
“Please stop calling me that..” Spencer lets out a small breath at the end of his sentence, words tinged with a small amount of desperation. He didn’t want to be ‘Reid’ in your mind, he wanted to be Spencer. “I have a lot to be jealous of when it comes to you,” Admitting his faults outright made him feel nauseous, but he needed to break this brick wall you’d built around yourself when it came to him.
He couldn’t stand being an outsider in your life.
“I mean, you’re sweet, kind, you have an inherent knack for social situations that I could only dream of possessing,” He takes a small break in his sentence to nervously chew on the inside of his lip. “and your emotional vulnerability makes me so jealous of you that I want to just—” He exhales sharply.
“It’s very easy to be jealous of you,”
There’s a small pause after Spencer’s confession, tension lingering in the air as he watches you aimlessly fiddle with the edge of the sheets whilst you debate how to respond.
“Those are stupid things to be jealous of,”
Spencer physically deflates at your answer. “They’re not, people like you are envied because you’re so open with yourself, that’s something not a lot of people have, myself included,” Spencer takes a small step forward, cautious about scaring you off if he approached too quickly. “even if I wish I did..”
He places a deft hand on your shoulder and you jolt at the contact.
“I’m really sorry.” His voice drops to a point where it’s almost inaudible, and you swear you can hear his voice catch as he tries to maintain his composure. “I don’t want to fight with you anymore… please,”
You let out a small sigh of indignation, and Spencer knows he’s won you over. “Fine,”
“Thank you,” He gives your shoulder a small squeeze, and you return it with one of your own as you rest your hand on top of his.
“I’m still angry with you,”
“I know…”
“You’ve got a hell of a job making up for it,”
“I know,”
“Good,” You finally turn to look over your shoulder at him, and Spencer is glad to see that your expression isn’t one of loathing or frustration. “Get some sleep Spencer,”
“Okay…” He gives you a soft nod and a half-awkward smile, the sound of his name rolling off your tongue one that fills him with more contentment than it probably should. “Goodnight…” He hesitantly pulls his hand from your shoulder to walk back to his own hotel bed, walking as you tuck yourself into yours.
“Goodnight Spencer, we’ll talk about this in the morning,”
“Yeah… Thank you…”
Spencer flicks off the lamp beside him, relaxing as the room is shrouded into darkness and allowing himself to get the first proper night of rest he had in weeks now that he’s finally made his peace with you.
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aquaquadrant · 2 months
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Philophobia
Word Count: 5,271 Warnings: Shipping, inappropriate/crude humor, paranormal activity, suspense/mild horror, descriptive kissing, mild language Summary: For architecture major and paranormal skeptic Grian, his friends’ after-hours ghost hunting group was just an excuse to spend time with his crush, Scar, without having to actually ask him out. But one fateful night, he finds there just might be things in this world that are scarier than emotional vulnerability… even if only by a very slim margin.
A/N: Did someone ask for a Phasmophobia-inspired Scarian au? Oh yeah, my friend @lunarcrown did! Inspired by the art she made here.
So this is kind of a modern-day college au (not set within the fictional universe of Minecraft), howEVER there are some fantasy aspects in that non-human species (like mob hybrids/monsters) still exist cuz they’re fun and I’m not giving anyone a normal modern name cuz that’s too weird. This is only Phasmophobia-inspired in that GIGS have a ghost-hunting group that functions the same way, but rarely find any conclusive evidence, and don’t have unlimited lives cuz they aren’t playing a game. With that out of the way, hope y’all enjoy, please reblog/comment if u do! - Aqua
~*~
Philophobia
~*~
“I think this is gonna be the one, guys,” Impulse says, turning their van into the driveway.
The suspension creaks as they roll over gravel, rattling the frame in a way that hums through Grian’s hollow bones. His arm is cold where it presses against the window; it’s almost sunset and Impulse has yet to get the van’s heater fixed despite his promises. Stupid demon blood keeping him warm while Grian shivers in the stupid custom pleather jumpsuit that Scar insisted they had made, for their stupid ‘brand’ as a stupid ghost-hunting group. Great, his stupid zipper’s come down again- he stubbornly zips it back up because unlike Scar, he doesn’t like constantly having his bare chest out on display.
Of course, he hasn’t got as much to show off as Scar, who must be getting up at 3 am every morning to work out in order to maintain all that muscle. No wonder Scar prefers to keep his zipper down to his belly button, and doesn’t seem to have ever met a shirt that fits him properly.
… Not that Grian’s ever paid much attention to that sort of thing. 
Grian gives an exasperated sigh. “You’ve been saying that about every case we’ve had for three years!”
“No, no, I really mean it!” Impulse insists. “I feel it in my bones.”
“Yeah,” Scar agrees, leaning forward so his shoulder brushes against Grian’s, “you know Impulse bones good!”
The earnest nature of his statement- and the unexpected physical contact- makes Grian flush. “Scar!” he shrieks, swatting Scar’s shoulder.
“What?” Scar defends. “What, he- he’s got big and strong bones, wonderful bones…”
He acts as if he’s got no idea he said something that could be taken the wrong way. And if it weren’t for the upturned corners of his mouth and the barely-restrained laugh in his voice, Grian might actually believe him.
“Dude,” Skizz chuckles from the front seat, “shut up, that’s awesome.”
Impulse sighs. “Anyway,” he says pointedly, “the place recently had a change in ownership. Previous owner passed away-”
“From murder?” Scar gasps.
Another sigh. “No, from liver failure.”
Grian snorts. “From all the drinking he did to forget about the ghostly hauntings?” he presses, exchanging a cheeky grin with Scar.
“No,” Impulse says, with the patience of a saint, “just normal old-age organ failure. The guy was ancient, and some kinda recluse. House had been in his family since it was built, but uh, he had no living relatives, no will when he died. So the bank took ownership and it’s been sitting off-market for like, fifteen years, til some hot-shot investor thought he could flip it-”
“Ughh,” Grian groans, tipping his head back against the seat. “Investors are the worst-”
“I know, I know,” Impulse soothes, “but um, he’d barely begun when things started happening. Contractors reported it day one, then the owner experienced an event himself and called us. So it’s basically still untouched.”
They haven’t even reached the end of the driveway yet, passing by seemingly endless rows of tall, gnarled pines. Admittedly, Grian’s curiosity is piqued. When he agreed to join this stupid ghost hunting group three years ago, he didn’t do so in the hopes of actually discovering any real paranormal activity. The whole idea is laughable. Ghost hunting is a pseudoscience, at best. Just a bunch of idiots scaring themselves silly in an empty house- and now they’re the idiots! Even their name is stupid: Ghost Investigation Group Services, or GIGS, embroidered on their ill-fitting pleather jumpsuits.
But despite his outright skepticism and dislike for pulling late nights in his already extremely limited free time, Grian’s got one very good reason for agreeing to join.
And his name is Scar.
Grian spent half a semester pining away at the fellow architecture major from across the lecture halls of their many shared classes. Charismatic and easy on the eyes, it was inevitable that Grian would develop a bit of a crush. But as they spent more time together during class projects and conversations in the hallway, he found out just how kind-hearted and passionate Scar was, and how easy he was to talk to, and how strong his arms looked in long-sleeved shirts…
… Yeah, ‘crush’ perhaps isn’t the right word.
So when Impulse- the engineering major who Grian was partnered with for physics lab- got the brilliant idea to start a ghost-hunting group with his best friend and roommate Skizz, and Scar expressed interest in joining, Grian made a split-second decision in a moment of weakness. He maintained his skepticism, claiming that he wanted to tag along just to prove how silly the whole idea was. Impulse was fine with it, while Scar said Grian had to wear the same uniform as them, and the rest was history.
(To be fair, that was before Grian knew it’d be a pleather jumpsuit.)
So here they are now nearly three years later, rumbling down a long gravel road in the dark and cold, up late on a Saturday night even though he still isn’t finished with his condominium model that’s due at 8 am on Monday and he’s fresh out of popsicle sticks. Moments like these almost make Grian wish he could just ask a guy out like a normal person, so they could spend time together without chasing pretend ghosts around dusty houses all night.
But that’d require him to talk about his feelings. Ugh, he’d rather let the ghosts get him.
“Alright.” Impulse slows the van to a halt. The doors unlock with a heavy clunk. “What do you guys think?”
Grian isn’t expecting much when he glances out the window. But the sight that greets him immediately prompts a hasty exit from the vehicle, scarcely noticing the sudden chill, his jaw dropping open in awe.
It’s a Victorian. Not a house that someone has mistakenly called ‘Victorian’ just because it looks old. A genuine, honest-to-goodness, Queen Anne’s style two-story Victorian manor with an asymmetrical facade and a rounded corner tower and a generous wrap-around porch, silhouetted against the fading light of the evening sky.
Grian reaches for his flashlight. Sweeping over the exterior, his breath catches. Knots of ivy creep up the walls, and there are a few places where the intricate wood trim has been lost to previous repairs and weather damage. A couple of the windows are bricked up. Most of the paint is faded and peeling. But overall? It’s beautiful.
“Oh man,” Grian murmurs, pushing his glasses back up, “look at the shape of it... look at the dormers!”
A second beam of light joins in; Scar’s emerged from the van. “Lots of character,” he says, sounding similarly entranced. “And still in great condition! Oh, it’s beautiful. It’s enough to make a man cry.”
Impulse hops out of the driver’s seat, chuckling. “I knew you two would like it. It’s an ‘85.”
Grian gives an appreciative whistle. “Look, I still don’t think we’re gonna find anythin’,” he says with a sideways look at Scar, “but I gotta tell ya… if- if I were a ghost… I think I’d haunt a proper house like this. Not those builder-grade boxes in the suburbs.”
“Right?” Impulse says, his forked tail flicking through the air. “That’s what I’m sayin’... I uh, I think this place has real potential.”
Skizz, who’s come around the van to stand with them, nods thoughtfully. “Definitely somethin’ special ‘bout it, that’s for true,” he says, exchanging a look with Impulse. Then he claps his hands together. “Alright gentlemen, let’s get movin’!”
Impulse and Skizz turn towards the van, heading to open the back.
Grian stares after them, squinting suspiciously. That wasn’t just any look. That was a Look. A Look that he knows all too well. They had that same Look on their faces at last year’s frat mixer, when they rigged the speakers at the Heta Kappa house to play ‘Margaritaville’ every time someone flushed a toilet.
It means that they’re Up To Something.
… Grian’s sure he’ll find out sooner or later.
“Well, Grian,” Scar says, hands on his hips as he surveys the property, “if it’s any connotation, at least we’ll get to study some real architecture tonight.”
Grian gives him a bemused look. “Consolation?”
Scar blinks. “Cono- what, what’d I say? Con- coronation?”
“Don’t worry ‘bout it, ey,” Grian chuckles, patting him on the shoulder. “Let’s go.”
~*~
“Check it out, dude,” Skizz calls excitedly, “temp’s dropping in here! Five degrees colder than the rest of the house!”
Grian makes a noncommittal noise. “It’s an east-facing room and the sun’s only just set, of course it’s colder than the rest of the house,” he says, idly passing his UV glow stick over an armchair. No prints, of course. “I doubt they’ve updated the insulation anytime within the last two decades.”
“And hey, look,” Impulse chimes in from the corner, “I’ve got EMF 1.3!”
Grian doesn’t even look up. “There’s an exposed outlet in here and I’ll bet the wiring’s older than I am. And in any case, it’s still below the recommended threshold.” Ew, okay, now that’s a suspicious UV stain on the floor, but not of the supernatural kind…
“Oh, it’s definitely not up to code,” Impulse agrees. He waves his EMF reader around a bit, making the pitch warble. “But I dunno, I think this must be the ghost’s favorite room. Might not be here right now, but I’m getting some real vibes…”
Grian rolls his eyes. “Sure…” 
Twenty minutes in, and despite the house’s hauntingly elegant construction, it’s been the same old story. The house is empty and quiet, as abandoned houses tend to be. Quite sparse, as most of the furnishings probably went to auction. The furniture that’s left is covered with tarps and every surface is coated with a fine layer of dust. He can smell mold somewhere in the floorboards and there’s apparent water damage in the ceiling.
The only renovation attempted thus far was the removal of some cheap linoleum tiles that were laid in the kitchen at some point- a renovation Grian can heartily agree with, there’s some absolutely gorgeous hardwood underneath- but they didn’t get far. The removed tiles are still sitting about in a haphazard pile, hammer and chisel abandoned on the floor beside them. Frantic footsteps smeared in the dust and powder paint the scene of a terrified contractor fleeing for their life from the reported ‘ghostly hauntings’. 
In any case, they haven’t heard any activity from the spirit box, nothing unusual has stood out on UV, and the salt Impulse laid out is still undisturbed. Surprise, surprise. Grian’s spent most of his time admiring the elaborate wooden trims lining every wall, scuffed as they are. What he wouldn’t give to properly restore this place…
“Hey, Dipple Dop?” Skizz calls suddenly. “Your radio working okay?”
Impulse gives him a curious look. “Huh? What, is there-” He pauses, glancing down at his radio. “Oh. Oh, yeah. Yeah, actually, mine’s on the fritz, must be overdue a battery change.”
“Oh?” Grian tilts his head innocently. “You don’t think it’s a ghoooost?”
Impulse purses his lips. “I don’t think everything is a ghost,” he says mildly. He clips the radio onto his belt, turning to the door. “I’ve got extras in the van, hang on…”
“I’ll go, too,” Skizz says quickly, slinging an arm and his wing around Impulse’s shoulders. “Buddy system! You know what, I- I’m tellin’ you, you never split up when hunting ghosts. That’s how they get you, dude.”
Oh. Oh, no.
Grian gives them a warning Look.
They give him a cheeky Look back.
“Yup, yeah, that’s true,” Impulse says with obvious feigned sincerity, steering Skizz out of the room. “So uh, you two keep at it, okay, and we’ll be right back…”
“Oh, okay!” Scar says cheerfully, busy setting up the tripod over in the corner and completely oblivious to their scheme. “Have a great time not getting murdered!”
Grian opens his mouth to protest, but Impulse and Skizz are already gone out the front door. Leaving him and Scar completely alone. Totally by coincidence, surely. Oh, he knew his drunken confession to Impulse at the school’s annual bar crawl fundraiser night would come back to bite him eventually.
It’s almost insulting, in a way. Like they think the only reason Grian hasn’t made a move is because he hasn’t had ample alone time with Scar. Like he needed them to give him an opportunity. But if he’d wanted to confess to Scar, he already would have. He’d have had it well done by now. They could give him a little credit.
See, the thing is, he’s thought about it. Plenty of times, in fact. But the issue he keeps coming back to is that if he tells Scar about his crush on him, then Scar will know about it. There’ll be no going back at that point. And if Scar doesn’t feel the same way- well, Grian can kiss their friendship goodbye. So yeah, no, he doesn’t think he’ll be making any dramatic love confessions tonight, strangely enough.
The risk of an awkward silence developing is astronomical, so Grian clears his throat. “Man… isn’t this place somethin’,” he says, then immediately fights the urge to cringe.
Scar, luckily, gives an emphatic nod. “It is, it truly is amazing.” He straightens up, dusting his hands off as he turns to Grian. “You know who’d really love this place, is Gem?”
“Oh, yeah, for sure,” Grian agrees. He busies himself with the UV, so he’s not just standing around. “We should take some pictures for her.”
“Oh, good idea!” Giving the tripod a final once-over, Scar wanders over to Grian. “So, any fingering goin’ on, yet?”
Grian nearly drops his glow stick. “Sorry- any what?!” he screeches, whirling around on Scar.
“You know, ghost fingers!” Scar says, perfectly innocent. He holds his hands up, wiggling his fingers in demonstration. “On the- on the glowy light?”
Grian takes a deep breath, face burning. “Oh Scar, buddy, you gotta think through your words better before you say them, alright?”
“Whaaat?” Scar pretends like he doesn’t know. “What, I’m just- you’ve got the stick, you know, little glow stick for when the ghost touches, uh-”
“Nevermind,” Grian groans. “Anyways, no, I haven’t found any ghostly handprints and I never will, because ghosts aren’t real.”
Scar folds his arms. “Well, hey, maybe the ghost is just polite! You know, he- maybe he’s just minding his business, not touching anything or- or anyone. Just because we don’t get anything on UV doesn’t mean ghosts aren’t real, I’ll have you know.”
Grian sees the challenge for what it is. “Alright…” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his spirit box. Holding the transponder to his lips, he belts out, “Where ahhre yewww?” in his best imitation of an over-exaggerated pop-punk accent. If Impulse and Skizz are eavesdropping through their radios, he hopes he gave them a start.
Scar laughs. “Oh man, been a while since I heard that one! You-”
I’m close.
Grian jumps so badly he nearly drops the box, his wings puffing out involuntarily. “What?! Wha- who said that?” he demands, spinning around.
Scar blinks at him. “What? Did you hear something through the box?”
“I- I dunno?” Grian says uncertainly. The box seems to be working as normal; when he holds the receiver down, there’s a faint hiss of static, and the bulb remains white. No further noises come from the speaker.
After a couple seconds of tense listening, Grian feels silly. Way to play it cool. He switches the box off with an exasperated sigh. “No, of course I didn’t hear anything through the box. Like I said, ghosts aren’t real.”
Scar hums noncommittally. “Oh, Grian... you know, there are some things in the world that can’t be explained.” 
Grian snorts. “Oh, yeah? Well, I- I got a few explanations for ya.” He counts on his fingers. “It could’ve been this old house creaking in the wind, or an electrical surge causing feedback through the transponder, or- or, not to mention, Impulse and Skizz pranking us through the radio?”
Scar snickers. “That does sound like something they’d do, I’ll give you that.”
“Yeah.” Grian slips the box back into his pocket. “And y’know, being in a creepy abandoned house, after dark, out in the middle’a nowhere... it’s easy to think you’re hearin’ things.”
Scar rolls his eyes, but his expression is fond. “I know, I know, so you’ve told me. But one of these days, mister, you’re gonna eat your words.”
“Right,” Grian drawls. “I’m so scared…”
The front door slams shut.
That makes Grian pause. They always leave the front door open while out on a job. It saves time when they have to go back and forth from the van, and saves battery life on their radios when they can just shout to each other through the open doorway. Obviously this job is a little different, because Impulse and Skizz have clearly got it in their heads to try and get him and Scar together, but he wouldn’t think they’d go so far as to-
The lights suddenly flicker and go out. But in the split-second before they do, Grian sees a shadowy figure silhouetted against the door.
Pure instinct takes over. Grian spins on his heel, grabs Scar by the arm, and absolutely flies down the stairs to the basement. He knows they’ve disturbed one or two piles of salt but right now, he can’t bring himself to care. His wings are bumping against the walls and he’s certainly never tried carrying someone as big as Scar before but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t even process the ache of it rattling through his body. He bursts into the basement, feathers flying, and careens towards the back of the room, around a tall shelving unit, and into the corner.
There’s a heap of boxes stacked up in this corner; Grian unceremoniously shoves Scar over top of them, dropping him in the narrow space between the boxes and the wall. He’s wedged in as far as he can himself, laying across the boxes, his double pair of wings preventing him from squeezing in beside Scar. He’s still got the UV light clenched in his fist, he realizes belatedly- he braces his forearms against the wall to try and cover it, fanning his wings out behind him to block it out from the rest of the room. Glancing back over his shoulder, he tries to gauge how much light is getting through when a noise makes him freeze.
Footsteps.
They’re soft and light- certainly not the heavy boots of Impulse or Skizz. No, they sound almost barefoot. And as they gently tap down the stairs, the sound of giggling fills the air. It’s a feminine voice. Young, like a child. Like a little ghostie girl is prancing down the stairs to murder them.
Grian thinks he might pass out. Can ghosts actually kill people? How would they do it if they’re incorporeal? He’s never considered the question before, he never thought he’d have to because it’s ridiculous, ghosts aren’t real, of course they can’t kill people-
The footsteps stop. 
Grian isn’t sure if he’s still breathing. He doesn’t dare move. A chill runs up his spine, making every single feather stand on end. He can almost hear the high-pitched violins that would be playing right now if this were a horror movie; the cheesy, overdrawn kind of horror movies that are always playing at the drive-in that the four of them watch while piled into the back of the van in a tangle of limbs and spilled popcorn and oh god he’s spiraling now because he’s about to be killed by a ghost-
Bye-bye!
The chill recedes. Somewhere in his peripheral vision, he sees the faint glow of light from upstairs return.
It’s over.
Grian’s mind is spinning. What was that? What was that? It seems impossible, it doesn’t even feel real to be in this situation right now but he is, there was a ghost, there was a ghost. It feels insane to even think it. But the residual adrenaline coursing through his body reminds him it was very real, he just encountered a ghost.
A ghost! Oh, after three years of very loudly decrying the entire concept as rubbish. He can’t believe it. He really can’t believe it, this is the absolute last thing he expected to happen tonight. Ghosts are real. Ghosts are really, really, real. He doesn’t know what to do, who would ever believe him? Is this how the others have been feeling this whole time? God, he can’t believe this-
“G...?” Scar’s voice pipes up hesitantly. “What... what are we doing?”
Oh, right. Grian glances down at Scar- and his heart jolts. He’d been so focused on getting away from the ghost, he’d acted without thinking, so only now does he realize the... predicament he’s put them in.
Scar’s slumped against the floor beneath him, head tucked just below Grian’s arms. His long legs are still draped over the box that Grian’s laying across, resting on either side of his waist. And due to the odd posture Grian’s in, his chest has been thrust rather close to Scar’s face, lit by the soft purple glow of the UV.
This is probably the closest Grian has ever been to sitting in Scar’s lap.
Grian’s not proud of the yelp that escapes him. “Sorry, sorry!” His wings flail as he struggles to push himself off of the wall, stumbling back onto his feet. It’s clumsy and uncoordinated and he nearly falls backwards, his heart pounding.
Scar manages a laugh, easing himself up off the floor. “No, no, it’s okay, I- I just... what- why’d you bring us down here?” he asks, dusting off his jumpsuit.
Grian catches his breath. “Wait, you... didn’t hear the creepy ghost on its way to kill us?” he asks, frowning.
Scar‘s eyes widen. “What? There was a ghost?”
No way.
“Are you-!” Grian throws his arms up. “Honestly, I- I know avians have better hearing than most but that’s insane. She was laughing! Laughing and skipping down the blumin’ steps! And you didn’t hear any of it?”
“No…?” Scar shrugs helplessly. “I’m sorry, okay! I- I don’t know, I was- a lot was happening, you- you’re grabbin’ me, pulling me down the stairs and into this little corner, I didn’t know what was going on! I didn’t know, I- I was all disconbodulated- disco- bobo, bobumated? I was a little distracted, okay. Jeeze, give a man a break…”
“Distracted?” Grian repeats incredulously. “You’re the one who actually believes in ghosts, here, how could you get distracted? What do you…”
He trails off. Scar is very clearly fighting to avoid looking at Grian, but for the briefest moment, his eyes dart down to Grian’s chest. Suddenly confused, Grian follows his gaze, and-
Oh, for goodness sakes. At some point during his frantic flight, the stupid zipper on his stupid jumpsuit came down again, exposing a frankly scandalous amount of skin. Not Scar-level of scandalous, but pretty close.
Grian immediately feels himself turn red. “Oh. Uh- right,” he hastily pulls the zipper back up, “sorry ‘bout that…”
Wait. Wait just a second. 
Scar was distracted from a literal ghost hunt going on... because Grian’s bare chest was showing? Does that... does that mean he liked it? 
Scar’s avoiding his gaze again. His cheeks are tinted pink.
“Scar...?” Grian ventures carefully. “Were you... lookin’ at my chest?”
Scar’s cheeks darken. “Ah, I- I- don’t- I mean, why would you- I didn’t mean to, it’s just...” He fumbles for the words. “What- what am I- hey, your pecs were basically in my face! I wasn’t trying to look, I- I just-”
“Scar,” Grian says, keeping his voice light and teasing, “did ya… did you like what you saw?”
Scar splutters for a moment. “Well, sure, Grian,” he tries to laugh it off, “I mean, anyone- anyone with eyes can see you’re uh, you know, you’re- you’re pretty attractive. I- I’m secure enough to say it, I don’t care, it’s- sure, of course, you’re very muscular! You’re a- you’re a muscular man, it’s just not always obvious with the sweaters you wear. Or- sorry, you call them jumpers in Britain land, right, they’re jumpers-”
“You been checkin’ me out, Scar?” Grian asks, caught somewhere between playfulness and utter disbelief.
“Uh...” Scar rubs the back of his neck. He exhales slowly, clearly debating with himself. “I... maybe? What... what would you say... if that were the case?”
Grian swallows. His heart is absolutely racing now, and he’s broken into a cold sweat that’s definitely not supernatural in origin. The air between them feels fragile; he’s acutely aware that a single word from him could swiftly plunge them back into the realm of safe familiarity, of casual light-hearted teasing between friends. Scar’s always said things that bordered on the flirtatious, and Grian can hide behind the plausible deniability of teasing. This entire interaction doesn’t have to mean anything. It can be easily moved past and forgotten.
And yet, strangely enough… Grian doesn’t want it to. Maybe it’s the post-haunting adrenaline or the fact that he could’ve died tonight, but all of a sudden, he feels like taking a chance. Like he could finally say what he’s wanted to say for the last three years. He managed to hold his own against a blumin’ ghost, for goodness sakes- he should be able to face his own feelings head on.
He takes a breath. “I’d say that’s a relief… ‘cause I’ve been checkin’ you out since day one of first year.”
Scar stares at him for a long moment. His expression is utterly unreadable. The silence draws on long enough that Grian feels a spike of panic, worried that maybe he’s mishandled the situation-
 “... oh my god,” Scar says finally. “Really?”
It sounds like the good kind of surprise. Grian offers a shy smile. “Yeah, yeah,” he admits. “I- Scar, I know I’m real good at playin’ these things close to the vest, but uh, I- I’ve had a massive crush on you since... basically since the day we met.”
“Huh.” Scar blinks. “You’re serious. You- you’re not pranking me right now?”
That startles a laugh out of Grian. “No! Scar, I don’t- we just survived being hunted by a ghost, I’m not pranking you!”
“Well, that’s- that’s amazing!” A grin spreads across Scar’s face- and man, oh man, does he have just the most wonderful smile. “Oh my gosh, G, I don’t- you don’t even know how long I’ve been waiting for this.”
The relief is almost overwhelming. “Yeah, me too!” Grian laughs, half-dazed and half-giddy, running a hand through his hair. “I- I even- look, the whole reason I even joined this group was as an excuse to hang out with you!”
Scar’s mouth falls open. “No way! That’s- that’s the whole reason I joined in the first place, too!”
Now it’s Grian’s turn to gawk. “Are you joking?”
“I’m not!” Scar insists, “I swear, I’m not- Impulse said he wanted to start the group and maybe we’d all join and get to hang out and I thought ‘hey, ghosts are cool and Grian is cool’ so I just-”
“Oh, I can’t believe this…” Grian groans, hiding his burning face in his hands. “We really are idiots, we’ve wasted nearly three years…”
Scar’s hands close around Grian’s wrists, lightly pulling them down from his face. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to make up for lost time,” he says smoothly, leaning in.
Corny, but Grian will allow it. He closes the gap, tilting his head up to meet Scar’s lips.
In that moment, everything else fades away. All the nervousness, all the second-guessing, even the bombshell discovery of the existence of ghosts- there could be one standing in front of them right now and Grian wouldn’t care. The way Scar gathers Grian in his arms, hands gently roving through his feathers- it’s bliss. It’s perfect.
Scar kisses him strong and purposefully, with no trace of carelessness or haste. He doesn’t rush. There’s intent written into every single movement, jaw working to deepen the kiss. Grian curls against him, hands splayed across Scar’s chest. He can feel Scar’s heart pounding through his flushed skin, and it’s wildly exciting- to think Scar is just as breathless as he is. 
Growing bold, Grian dares to slip his tongue into Scar’s mouth, and the noise he makes- part surprise, part delight- sends pure electricity fizzling up his spine. His mind is starting to drift away from him, lost in the sensation of weightlessness, of floating, that almost makes him feel like he’s gone completely incorporeal- like his own spirit has become untethered from the mortal coil.
Then Skizz’s voice comes down the stairs.
“G-Sharp! Scarface! You down here? We just saw a freaking ghost on the cams, and- oh my god!”
Grian breaks away from Scar, but not quick enough. He turns to see Skizz and Impulse standing at the bottom of the stairs, expressions shocked. And then, as if they’d rehearsed it, they both break into massive shit-eating grins and spin around to high-five each other.
“Woo!” Impulse cheers. “We got ‘em! Ladies and gentlemen, we finally got them.”
“Yeah, baby!” Skizz pumps his fist in the air. “Oh, I love it!”
“Oh, would you two stop it?” Grian huffs, but he’s not really cross. Hard to be cross when he’s on cloud nine. “The ghost did most of the work, alright?”
“That’s right,” Scar sniffs, winding an arm around Grian’s waist. “You know, I- I’m startin’ to think you all were in cahoots! Cahoots, I say!”
“Dude, if only,” Skizz laughs, walking over to clap them on the shoulders. “Could not have planned it better, that’s amazing. Well done, gentlemen!”
“Yeah, it’s about time!” Impulse adds, crossing his arms. “I was starting to think we’d graduate before either of you fessed up, I- I had to take drastic measures…”
“Impulse,” Grian says warningly, “if you’re about to tell me you started this whole paranormal investigation group just as a way to push me and Scar into confronting our feelings, I swear-”
“No, no,” Impulse assures him, chuckling. “I really do like the ghost-hunting deal, don’t worry. But uh, we did deliberately ditch you guys in the hopes that something would happen.”
Scar waggles his eyebrows. “Oh, things happened, alright.”
���Scar!” Grian swats at him, but he’s laughing and it feels good. It feels right. After all this time spent worrying about worst-case scenarios, about denying his feelings for the sake of maintaining the comfortable mundanity of his comfortable life, it turns out the scariest part was the fear itself.
The irony doesn’t escape his notice. A bit on the nose, if he’s honest.
“But in even bigger news,” Impulse graciously continues, “you saw the ghost? And you believed it? You, Mr. Non-Believer in all things ghostly?”
Grian sighs. “Yeah, yeah, I know…”
“This is incredible!” Skizz claps his hands together. “Okay, okay, we gotta go cleanse the area and I wanna hear everything, got it? Don’t leave a single detail out!”
Grian slips his hand into Scar’s as they follow Impulse and Skizz back up the stairs. “Yeah, alright,” he relents. He supposes he’s due for a lot of ‘I told you so’s’. But really, it’s a small price to pay for the life-altering knowledge that ghosts are real… and for finally finding the courage to believe in something extraordinary.
Scar hums. “Wait, details about the ghost or about the kissing?”
“Scar!”
~*~
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moonstruckme · 2 months
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hi mae! i’ve recently become obsessed with herbal teas and i noticed you have mentioned chamomile and jasmine tea in your fics lol. i am wondering if you would be interested in writing a remus or poly!marauders fic with an american reader who loves herbal teas and they kinda tease her about it (in a loving way of course)? i love your fics and i hope you have a lovely day whenever you read this <3
I love herbal teas! I fully support this obsession honey. Thank you for requesting!
cw: british slander, i love y'all but i'm besmirching your brand <3 (based largely on my own experiences lol, so perhaps not fully accurate)
Remus Lupin x american!reader ♡ 614 words
“This is so disappointing,” you sigh at the sight of Remus’ cabinet. 
“What?” he asks from the couch. 
“You told me you had tea.” 
“I do have tea.” 
“No, you only have this.” You take the box of Yorkshire Tea out of the cabinet, brandishing it where Remus can see. “This shit is nasty. Rubbish, as your folk say.” 
“Oh,” he laughs, “so you sail all the way across the ocean, take our teas with you, denounce our government, and then come back here to criticize, is that it?” 
You look at him darkly. “This is what the Boston tea party was really about. I get it now.” 
Remus beckons you toward the couch. You go, abandoning the boiling kettle since apparently there’s no point in searching the kitchen for anything good to drink. It’s only once you sit down on the couch and he takes your hand into his lap that you realize your mistake. 
Remus has a mollifying effect on you. It’s tragic, really. All it takes is a look, a shift in his tone, a small touch like this, and you’re pliant and boneless for him. 
“What sort of teas do you prefer?” he asks you softly, tracing the lines of your palm.
“I usually keep a variety,” you tell him, matching his tone. “Like cinnamon, or passionflower, or rooibos…have you heard of any of those?” 
Remus smiles, slow and sweet. “I have. Would you like whipped cream and sprinkles on those as well?” 
You laugh, rolling your eyes. You try to take your hand back, but Remus holds fast (you don’t make it hard for him), grinning at you. 
“That is so not fair. Just because y’all like your tea bland—”
“Say that one more time for me? Who all?” 
“—doesn’t mean my tastes are somehow unrefined.” You fix him with a hard stare, though your smile is untamable. “You’re being posh.”
Remus looks amused. “Never been accused of that one before,” he says. 
“Have you ever tried jasmine tea with a little bit of sweet creamer in it?” You raise your eyebrows at him. “Remus, you’re really missing out.” 
“Alright.” He stands, taking your hand with him and giving it a tug when you don’t follow. “C’mon, up.” 
“Where are we going?”
“To make you a cuppa.” 
You giggle. “I can’t take you seriously when you call it that.” 
“Once you stop saying dude, we can talk about my diction.” 
“So mean,” you tsk, letting him pull you over in front of the kitchen counter. He pours the hot water from the kettle into a mug, placing a tea bag in it. 
“We’ll get this drinkable for you, love, don’t worry,” Remus murmurs, waiting until the tea is a deep brown before going to the fridge. He pours in heaps of milk and sugar, stirring with a look of mild distaste in his expression. “Alright, try.” 
You take the mug off the counter warily, blowing on it before putting it to your lips. 
You hum, and Remus lifts an eyebrow. 
“It’s…better.” 
“I’ve done my best,” he chuckles, taking it from you. “I’ve thrown all my principles and better sense out the window, and it’s still not up to your standards, hm?” 
“No, it’s not bad.” You steal the mug back, taking another sip and smacking your tongue against the roof of your mouth experimentally. “It’ll do.” 
Remus gives you an indulgent look. “I’m sure we can find you some jasmine tea if that’s what you want,” he offers. 
You shrug. “I was just at the grocery store, and I didn’t see any.” 
He tilts his head skyward, blowing out a long-suffering breath. “I think you mean the grocery, sweetheart.”
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emeraldbabygirl · 2 years
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I had this dream the I was with romin or wonjun wearing the Creature fit, the red and black one and we were in my kitchen dicking around but I was complaining that the fit didn’t..fit lol cause I was fat and then I turn around and Hwalchan is in front of the silverware drawer holding a spatula? And he also happens to be in the Creature fit and he was like ‘you’re not fat’ and I took the blazer off and was like arguing with him and he was like ‘come here baby you smell so good’ and he hugged me and wow thank you dream hwalchan I needed that :’)
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f1version · 1 year
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MY PERSON ★ CL16
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pairing: charles leclerc x no-socials!reader
summary: Charles posts an update on your relationship with a beautiful message.
note: a little something that might cease the possible heartbreak of the race or might be a celebration for all tifosi.
kind of part two here
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charlesleclerc
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Liked by pierregasly, landonorris and 1,718,569 others
charlesleclerc Today I made the most important and easiest decision of my life. That beautiful woman in the pictures is Y/n Y/l/n, soon to be Y/n Y/l/n-Leclerc, you may not know about her a lot since she prefers to keep a lower profile, but i’m so glad I have the privilege to know her. And now to love her for the rest of our lives.
Y/n you’re the love of my life. I don't know how many times I'll have to tell you how in love with you and how much you mean to me for it to be enough. It’ll never be enough, at least for me. You are my happiness, you are sunshine and midnight rain.
Mon amour, you and I know love is about finding the person who completes what you are missing, loves what you share, stays during hard times, and celebrates the good ones. Y/n, ten months ago, when I started planing my proposal, I realized that you were that person for me because of a question Pierre asked me: Does she make you a better version of yourself, one you ever dreamed you could be? And I could only say yes. Just looking into your eyes, I understand how you feel, looking into your eyes I see you, i’m in love with you. You are my soulmate, my person.
Mon coeur est bien,
Charles.
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arthur_leclerc I have a new favorite family member
charlesleclerc i love you too or whatever
pierregasly my biggest flex: I played a crucial role into this, charles is too stupid
pierregasly imagine if the ring fell onto the snow
andferrari007 it did
charlesleclerc please don’t remind me that
danielricciardo If you mess up i will unalive you, and then y/n and i will marry as the best friends we are 🫡
charlesleclerc HAHA no
danielricciardo you will see
maxverstappen1 charles run
landonorris CHARLES YOU DID IT AAAAHHHHHH
charlesleclerc I DID IT
carlossainz55 Felicidades!! ❤️
charlesleclerc Gracias, Carlos❤️
lewishamilton You’ll be the happiest, I know it 💙
charlesleclerc ❤️❤️
sebastianvettel Congrats, Charles and Y/n! Hoping you have a wonderful marriage and life together.❤️
charlesleclerc Thank you, Seb! Love you.
joris__trouche Photos by me y’all, I was there to watch Charles almost piss himself!!!!
charlesleclerc SHUT UP I WAS FULLY CONFIDENT
joris__trouche sure mate, at least hope one kid is named after me 😔
charlesleclerc I don’t enjoy Joris Leclerc
arthur_leclerc what about Arthur Leclerc
charlesleclerc not calling them after you 😐
maxverstappen1 I have a better one ✨Max Leclerc✨
charlesleclerc please never say that again
pierregasly pierre leclerc
charlesleclerc STOP
Your head rests on Charles’ shoulders, he scrolls through the comments of your family, friends, loved ones, and Charles’ colleagues. He laughs at the discussion about his future child’s name, his dimples showing perfectly.
“Have you imagined that?” The brown-haired man spoke out of nowhere, turning down to look you in the eyes.
“Imagine what, Charlie?” You reply, needing slight confirmation of what he is referring to.
"Children, a family... you know, the whole future after this happens" the green-eyed continued, pointing at the ring on your finger at the end, making you blush quickly.
“Of course, I have, mon chéri, you?”
"More than once, ange, I want everything with you" He answers sweetly. Charles was so in love with you since he asked you to be his girlfriend, he hadn’t imagined a future without you. He imagined you and him, traveling the world, a beautiful, healthy family, and him and you fulfilling your dreams together. You were all reasons he had to smile on the darkest days.
You, on her side, looked at your fiancé, curious and somewhat captivated by him. Charles’ look made you feel, so in love, you might burst. You felt confident with your decisions, and with your life.
About ten months ago, when Charles and you were at the Italian GP, Charles said he loved you, he said those two words, and you echoed him. You were completely sure you loved him. But when it came to "I'm in love with you" it was a long process, you didn’t play with those words.
I love you meant a promise only you could give, only you could get for him. It meant: I want you to be happy. But I'm in love with you meant that promise would be kept even if it wasn’t with you, it was giving your heart forever. It meant: I want you to be happy, even without me.
It may seem like a ridiculous concept to some people, they are words, but words are the source of expression the majority of humans possess.
They say that actions are worth a thousand words, however, it’s never suggested words are not valuable, or everlasting.
For you, they were everlasting, once you said them there was no going back. Two years later after the ‘i love you’ Charles said to be in love with you. But it was not your time, and Charles didn’t mind waiting for you to be ready.
And when you were ready, it was perfect.
You were at home in Monaco that day. During sunrise, you and Charles made love as if the world was ending; by morning you went hiking, and while being on top of the world, you realized. You realized you didn't care if you ended up heartbroken, you were ready to put the past and future aside and just live in the present.
“Charles,” You said that day, he looked at you so deeply, waiting. “I'm in love with you.”
He kissed you after that, just like he was kissing you now after you said the same thing, the difference being the place, and the fact that you had an engagement ring on your finger.
“Thanks for choosing me.” The Monegasque whisper. He kept kissing you, bringing you closer to him, showing you with actions how much he appreciated your existence.
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twiisted-king · 11 months
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⊙ THE SPOT BF HC’s ⊙
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➟ The Spot / Jonathan Ohnn X GN!Reader 🕳️
➟ NSFW / SFW ( he has such raw sex appeal )
➟ TW : Insecurities, Workplace Abuse, Body Image, SEX, & Murder :)
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⊙ PRE-COLLIDER
— Jonathan is PAINFULLY average.
— Sure his colleagues like him and he has a good standing with his superiors, But he just doesn’t have a lot going for him.
— Which is why he wonders why an angel like you loves him so much.
— He enjoys the domesticity of y’all’s relationship when he isn’t stuck at the lab or doing scientific research. Like make the man a nice home cooked meal and take a shower with him, it makes him happy beyond belief.
— He has quips. Jonathan just loves making you laugh and he’s actually pretty good at laughing at himself whenever he does something stupid. He knows you won’t judge him.
— Kind of obsessed? Besides work, you are all he thinks about and focuses on. He has plans for the future of your relationship ( MARRIAGE ).
— He’s the type of person to keep a picture of you on his desk.
— Adding onto the obsessed part, he can be possessive. I feel like that’s a given with him.
— Jonathan is insecure. He knows that there are a lot of more attractive, cooler people out there and he worries that he’ll fuck up one day and you’ll leave him. Please comfort him.
— Arguments are few and far between. He’s good at resolving whatever issues that may come up with good ol’ communication.
— He keeps you as far away from his work life as possible. He NEVER EVER wants you to get caught up in the messes that are his projects and he knows just how dangerous working with physics is. Plus Wilson Fisk might use you as leverage to get Jonathan to do what he wants.
— sex time boys :)
— You wanna have sex .. WITH HIM!? That’s kind of his instant reaction though he isn’t opposed.
— I don’t think he’s a virgin, But he’s not the most experienced. He might’ve had a few partners in college though that’s about it. I’m sure he had a few admirers at Alchemax though he was far too busy with working to care plus he had you.
— I don’t think he has a preference for who is dominant and submissive. If you want to edge him until he cries that’s cool! But he’s also chill with taking the lead and fucking you into submission.
— This man is PACKIN’. You can disagree with me all you want, But it’s always the dorky ones that have the most dick. He probably thought that he wasn’t big since he’s since all of these videos talking about how “ 6 inches isn’t big enough yadi yada “. So he was incredibly nervous taking his pants off the first time and he just sorta held his breath, waiting for a reaction of disappointment. He ended up being pleasantly surprised in the end of and was more than happy to shove his dick down your throat.
— His dick is skinnier than it is thick. Poor dude has an INCREDIBLY sensitive head and a prominent vein running up the underside of his shaft.
— Prefers positions where he can see your face. He thinks eyes are the windows to the soul and being able to focus on your expressions makes sex 100X more enjoyable.
— SIT ON THIS MANS FACE. Force him to take all of you inside his mouth and then ride his nose until you’re seeing stars.
— Jonathan let’s out the pathetic noises. He’ll whine, whimper, moan, etc.
————————————————————————
⊙ POST-COLLIDER
— honey, you’ve got a big storm comin’
— He becomes almost 1,000X more clingy and loving.
— He’s absolutely horrified at what happened to him and feels like he’s a burden to you now. He can’t even kiss you for god’s sake!
— Spot will get steal gifts for you in an effort to make up for having to date an idiot like him. He’s much more withdrawn and silent though he’s still prone to using humor as a coping skill.
— Once he realizes that you aren’t going to leave him is probably when he resorts to crime. He would never leave you as the main breadwinner no matter how much you can provide for y’all and will do whatever he can to make sure you are well cared for.
— He’ll never allow you to go out with him when he’s committing crimes. If you were to get hurt or worse ( ahem die ) he would probably never forgive himself.
— You are now his world and he must protect his world at all cost.
— He’s become even more obsessed with your face now that he doesn’t have a proper one. Kissing is a little awkward, But he still appreciates that you’re willing to be affectionate with him.
— You can be curious about his spots, But don’t expect him to let you go through one. It’s already difficult enough for him to control them and he doesn’t want to send you to a whole other universe.
— He has become much more confident as The Spot. He’ll make big risky choices and no longer wants to be a doormat. Arguments are still uncommon though he isn’t afraid to defend the crimes he commits because at the end of the day it’s all for you.
— Being a interdimensional criminal isn’t the most ideal job, But it all comes back to his love for you and don’t ever forget that.
— Has told you to “ Come check out his hole “ a couple of times whenever he figures out his powers, he is definitely aware of how dirty he makes it sound.
— time to get down and dirty in Jonathan’s holes :)
— For starters, he didn’t LOSE his dick it’s just kind of chilling in a void pocket. Go read Spotless on AO3, The Spot actually has a dick in that fic in a way that makes sense.
— He’s grateful you still want to be intimate with him. He can be a little awkward sometimes though he makes up for it.
— Becoming a supervillain has made this man an absolutely menace in bed. He’ll overstimulate and edge you to make sure you remember he isn’t just some lowlife scientist anymore.
— Jonathan’s rougher and manhandles you, forcing you into whatever position he wants.
— It’s a little silly if you imagine it with his regular voice ngl, BUT THE MEAN VOICE? oh my god.
— Repeats phrases like “ mine “ whenever he fucks you and let’s out this raspy little laugh whenever you tell him it’s too much.
— It’s a little pointless for you to pleasure him now so he solely focuses on you. Plus it’s a way for him to blow off steam after a fight with Miles.
— Could you have sex with one of his holes? Does he even feel pleasure anymore? I have many questions that I will ignore for the sake of fanfiction.
— Imagine getting choked by this dude?
— This motherfucker definitely still whimpers though as The Spot and you can’t tell me otherwise.
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dawn-in-neocity · 4 months
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best friend (™️) wayv !
that’s just your bf, i’m sorry
kun
husband material wow. is so so sweet and gentle with you i’m jealous. casually does shit straight out of movies. like what do you mean he booked and planned the wholeee day for your birthday. absolutely melts when you show him the same affection. turns tomato red and can’t stop smiling. prefers calling over texting because he “just wants to hear your voice.” gives the warmest hugs.
ten
you’re each other’s person, simply put. your nr 1 hypeman. encourages you to do fun adventurous things when you doubt yourself. y’all are basically the human embodiment of my aesthetic pinterest boards. goes out of his way to impress you because he just thinks you’re the most interesting person in the world. half of your feed consists of pictures taken by him. keeps joking about getting a tattoo related to you.
winwin
the only man ever. subtly shows his love. like fixing your necklace if the clasp is in the front. or holding your hands in his when it’s cold. “i brought you this cupcake, it’s really good.” pays attention to small things. like when you were stressed about how messy your bathroom was so he just casually got you an organizer. gets flustered when you hug him or kiss his cheek. (he loves it though).
xiaojun
you guys are so sweet omg. has a special nickname for you. loves pinching your chin or stroking your cheek :(. has this dopey, dreamy smile on his face whenever he’s watching you be cute. which is always, you’re always cute to him. the first person to notice if you’re upset and will do anything and everything to help. dramatically serenades you with a spoon while you’re cooking together.
hendery
always has an arm slung over your shoulders. loves telling you stupid jokes in your ear when you’re meant to be serious. biter. just gets this impulse to stick his chompers in your shoulder. gets nervous and blanks sometimes bc of how attracted he is to you. sends you shirtless snaps with his cats™️. gets all happy and teases you when your friends refer to him as your boyfriend.
yangyang
you have sooo much fun together omd. no wonder you’re together 24/7. always keeps your go to snacks STOCKED in his place. never lets you pay for anything. thinks you're the funniest person on earth. like he swears spending time with you is an ab workout. he is down horrendous for you and is past the point of caring to hide it. keeps forgetting it's mutual tho so he nearly has a heart attack whenever you compliment him or kiss his cheek.
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lupi-usque-ad-finem · 6 months
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i’m a werewolf like a camp counsellor is. kiddos don’t mind that howling last night it’s probably just the coyotes and no they ain’t gonna hurt us they’re definitely more afraid of you than you are of them don’t worry about it. yes i can smell when it’ll rain it comes with age. oh we can totally have a bonfire this full moon on another note I’m gonna go chop firewood for the next 24 hours gotta stay prepared! we’re in the mountains of course there’s rips in my clothes lol. what shadowy figure looming on the cliffside last night? my skin is just sensitive to the zinc in silver i dunno why. oh damn our food bags got ransacked? i wonder what could have done it. kids camp is this way i can smell the smoked salmon from this morning. i prefer peanut butter to chocolate in my s’mores so you guys can have mine! yes i collect bones for my cabin’s craft nights what do you mean that’s not in the handbook. now remember guys barefoot hiking is for the highly experienced in wild terrain we don’t want y’all cutting up your feet now do we? wow a eight point buck just standing there in the clearing! completely unprotected! isn’t he beautiful! let’s keep walking! don’t worry about the huge claw marks on the treeline it’s just those silly bear cubs for sure
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kyojurismo · 1 year
Note
Hey you probably have a lot on your plate but I was wondering if you could do all the hashira with a gn mute! s/o who is kind, also a hashira, and only communicates with sign language or writing. If you don't want to do all of them you can just pick whoever you want. Thank you and have a wonderful day 😊
▸ ANSWERING. hello anon! thank you sm for sending a request ♡ i love this idea, it’s super cute & i hope you’ll enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it 👉🏻👈🏻
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▸ FANDOM. kimetsu no yaiba
▸ CHARACTERS. gyomei himejima, tengen uzui, sanemi shinazugawa, kyojuro rengoku, giyu tomioka, mitsuri kanroji, obanai iguro, muichiro tokito, shinobu kocho x gn!reader
▸ RATING. sfw
▸ WARNINGS. nothing i think? but i’m warning u there’s a chance some of them might be ooc?? also, i took a bit of inspo by nezuko’s behaviour for gyomei so yeah… not proofread btw & i’m sorry if some seems shorter than others but it’s my first time writing for like half of them lol
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GYOMEI HIMEJIMA
since gyomei is blind, it was hard for you to approach him and get to know the stone hashira when you joined them
he spoke to you first, feeling that you were a kind soul and didn’t wanted you to feel alone or sum
you usually communicate with gyomei by “writing” on his hands
at first he was confused and couldn’t understand everything, but he’s improved a lot!
you prefer to listen to him talking, by the way
and to make sure gyomei knows that you’re listening to him you let a bunch of grunts escape your lips
what pushed gyomei towards you was that mysterious aura and he was glad that you didn’t gave up on getting closer to him only because he was blind
he loved spending time with you
and it helped developing a deep connection between you two
so you found yourself falling for this soft giant <3
TENGEN UZUI
oh man,
tengen was so intrigued by you
he wanted to get closer to you and know you better
you weren’t exactly ignoring him, you simply kept some distance because you thought you might be boring for him, due to his flashy personality
tengen noticed you communicating with the others using sign language and he wanted to surprise you, so he asked shinobu [yes, i hc her knowing sign language very well] to teach him
the next time you met him, tengen greeted you by using sign language and it actually surprised you
you smiled at him and greeted him back
he knew you weren’t deaf but he wanted you to feel more included, if that makes sense
“sign language is very flamboyant, y’all should learn and use it all the time.”
your boyfriend loves reminding the others that you’re the most flamboyant hashira because of that 🫶🏻
and also because you two are together
SANEMI SHINAZUGAWA
sanemi at first thought you were so timid that you couldn’t speak in front of the others
but then noticed that you spoke with the others with sign language
you were intimidated by him, so you timidly waved at him before the meetings with ubuyashiki-sama and then “ignored” him
he wondered why, since you acted friendly with the other hashiras
he then decided to confront you about it
“hey,” he called for you after a meeting. you stopped in your track and looked at him, confused. sanemi stared at you for a few moments before speaking again. “if you have a problem with me, then tell me! or fight me, if you prefer.” you looked confused but shook your head.
i don’t have a problem with you, shinazugawa-san.
he found it a bit hard to understand all the words but once he got it, sanemi replied harshly. “then why don’t you speak to me?” you were taken aback by that and you looked down, a bit embarrassed. i’m not sure you would like my company and maybe you can’t stand that i’m mute.
“what kind of bullshit is that?!” sanemi shouted, surprising you. “we can spend more time together… if you’d like,” he lowered his voice, blushing a little.
sanemi started feeling calmer around you and learned sign language more efficiently, so he could understand you better
it took him a lot to figure out his true feelings towards you and he decided to tell you that he wanted something more than a simple friendship
using sign language, of course
he was blushing a lot and you found it cute
sanemi was so happy you reciprocated his feelings
me when he’s so– 🥹
KYOJURO RENGOKU
kyojuro was one of the most friendly since the beginning
even tho at first he couldn’t understand sign language he wanted to learn everything about it
it helped kyojuro getting closer to you and he grew very fond of you
you appreciated spending time with the flame hashira
he invited the younger slayers to learn sign language too
if you two were alone, kyojuro tried to use only sign language to communicate with you
“you’re so smart, y/n!”
he truly thought very highly of you
kyojuro, like sanemi, asked you to get together using sign language, but not because he was too shy
he’s the sweetest !!!!!!
GIYU TOMIOKA
giyu was quick to learn sign language
he enjoyed your company and even if you couldn’t speak, giyu could see very clearly that you liked being around him too
just from your eyes !!
he’s quiet most of the time, so you find yourself “speaking” more than him
but he’s more open when it’s just the two of you
you would go on missions with him sometimes
“i’m glad you were assigned to this mission too.”
translation: i’m happy we can spend more time together… that way, the others won’t interrupt us.
just to clarify things, it turned out that you were the one to propose to go beyond a simple friendship
MITSURI KANROJI
mitsuri loved watching you communicating
really, she got easily distracted by that
she learned sign language from shinobu
“they’re so cute!”
would randomly compliment you and you simply stand there a bit embarrassed
she did that using sign language too!
invited you to eat and drink something almost everyday
i think she treasures quality time so the more you two do something together the more she grows fond of you
i like to think you two casually ended up together
actions spoke louder than words i guess
OBANAI IGURO
couldn’t believe you were unable to speak at first
stared at you suspiciously most of the time ngl
but then he understood and started learning seriously sign language, so he would communicate with you using it
you found him intimidating as fuck in the beginning, so you tried to keep the conversation short
but once you got to know him better your feelings changed completely
obanai was always there to keep you company
but wouldn’t invade your space
compliments you using sign language bc he’s too shy to say those things out loud
and you noticed that before he finally asked you out he used to have red cheeks almost all the time
he’s a softy tho <3
MUICHIRO TOKITO
he was so zoned out that he didn’t realised you communicated with sign language
no seriously, it took him a lot
you were curious about him so you approached him first
muichiro secretly enjoyed having you around from that moment
he asked you personally to help him learning sign language and he did pretty good, learning fast
was surprised to discover you were a hashira too
and asked you to train together a few times
muichiro was slow at figuring out his feelings but that wasn’t a problem, you thought he simply enjoyed your company
when you two hold hands you sometimes “write” letters on his skin using your thumb and he’s always capable to get every word
SHINOBU KOCHO
was the only one who was already familiar with sign language
but that didn’t mean that you couldn’t help her improve
that was what drew you closer actually
kindly reminded every single person in the demon slayer corps to learn and practice sign language
[this is her having a crush on you and not knowing how to act, bye]
stargazing with shinobu almost every night was your thing
and there she finally decided to make things clear
you liked her too but were too timid to act on it
shinobu loved taking care of you
she also complimented you in sign language
and you reminded her to smile because she’s beautiful
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▸ BEFORE LEAVING. reblog and comments are super appreciated. thank you so much for reading! should i write something similar for the kamaboko squad too <3
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ozzgin · 7 days
Note
Hello, sexy drider boob enjoyer anon here. Can I kiss the lady. It's for science.
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At this point you can go ahead and include her in the harem, if you so desire. 😭 Who am I to stop y’all. Why not, why not.
Yandere! Female Spider x Reader
Content: female yandere, gender neutral reader, monster smut
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She is very proud and values her independence, thus she would rather not be bound by any contract. In this regard, she will occasionally mock the other yokai men by calling them "collared dogs".
She is also not the type to fight or play the traveling hero. You'll always find her in the depths of her lair, and she'll always welcome you with open arms.
She doesn't really show her jealousy. Most often she prefers to make other people jealous, particularly the beastly men following you around.
I can't believe you haven't figured that out. Perhaps you just don't understand (Y/N) as well as I do...Then again, I wouldn't expect anyone else to share our deep bond.
Oh, you poor thing. Trying so hard to have (Y/N) notice you. I'll tell you what, be a good errand boy and I'll let you witness the sounds my little (Y/N) makes when I play with them. Maybe you can learn a thing or two.
Her sly smile rarely leaves her face. She's imperturbable, eerily so. She also has a dark sense of humor, sometimes joking about eating you up. You return her amused chuckle with certain hesitation, seeing the hundreds of mummified, emptied cadavers hung around her lair. "I wonder how the inside of your head looks like", she'll remark thoughtfully as she cracks the bone open. "Oh, don't make that face. I'd never eat my favorite human."
The demoness is very flirty and will frequently tease you for entertainment. If you get caught in one of her many webs, she'll gaze at your struggling form with a malicious grin. "You have the loveliest of whines. It almost makes me want to leave you there, all tied up. Like a gift ready to be unwrapped, hmm?"
You've only seen her raw envy once. Vicious, terrifying, bone-chilling. The monstrous yokai at your side could never compete with her ruthlessness. You can't even remember what set her off. Maybe some demon messing with you while you were left in her care. "This wasn't very ladylike of me, huh?" she said with a sad expression, features morphing back into the humanoid appearance you're used to. "Come here. I must've frightened you a fair amount."
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selfishdoll · 7 months
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NOW PLAYING…. PEACHES & EGGPLANTS
But if you wanna come, give my brother some
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THREESOME HCS w/ MK1 MEN
ft. johnny cage, raiden, kung lao, kenshi, sub zero, scorpion, smoke, & liu kang.
cw: suggestive & mature themes, lowkey mean bi-han, johnny cage is written with a fluid sexuality, angst if you squint, etc.
this is just silly (and messy) hcs of mk1 men & if they would do a threesome and if so, who with. i promised my tiktok followers i’m writing a johnny cage & smoke one, i just haven’t gotten around to it 💀. excuse typos & grammar mistakes please.
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JOHNNY CAGE.
first & foremost, johnny definitely has had threesomes before with both women and men. he finds them fun and usually lightens the mood when either party is nervous.
his top pick for his threesome partner would definitely be kenshi. that’s his best friend and someone he trusts and confides in. so when you bring up the idea of one of his friends and him tag-teaming you, his mind instantly goes to kenshi.
it took some convincing of the swordsman since one, you’re his best friend’s lover and two, given his injury; he wasn’t sure he would be any good. but you (and johnny) promise him it’ll be fine and fun. when he finally agrees you and johnny are over the moon.
the contrast between johnny and kenshi was clear; the blind swordsman was so careful with you, asking if it was too much— assuring you were uncomfortable. while johnny on the other hand was much more rough, declaring you were fine, that you could take it.
the experience was wonderful overall, the three of you promising to do it again.
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RAIDEN.
as much as i want to say his top pick would be kung lao, i don’t see raiden engaging in threesomes while in a relationship.
he’s not a possessive man or believes your every being belongs to him, but he much rather keep bedroom activities for your and his eyes only.
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KUNG LAO.
what, am i not enough? is probably the first words that exit his mouth when you bring the idea up. of course you scramble to defend your case to which the man laughs, telling you to calm down.
the idea has passed his mind a few times, him preferring a two woman situation but he wasn’t against sharing you with someone. that person would definitely be raiden. similar to johnny that’s his best friend and the only one he really trusts when it comes to you.
now, would raiden accept? not immediately. the first time kung lao asked the other refused him, much to his best friend’s dismay. yet he doesn’t push him, he said no, it means no.
but, raiden begins to think about it for a week or so, deciding it couldn’t hurt. he wasn’t with anyone and he didn’t want to admit he was interested in what that would look like. so after placing a few ground rules, raiden accepts.
the situation was a bit messy at first given raiden was nervous but as y’all got into it that feeling melted away.
kung lao does get a little competitive however, if you moan a little louder from raiden’s touches and thrusts. raiden pretends he doesn’t notice but does smirk when his best friend playfully glares at him.
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KENSHI.
he does get a little offended when you bring the idea up. he already has a few insecurities surrounding you and your pleasure, given his injury. so when you ask he gets a little silent and withdrawn, believing he wasn’t enough for you.
you took that time to console him, staring it was just a silly idea and if he didn’t want to, it was fine. his answer doesn’t change anything about your relationship. you still love him and how he treats you regardless.
your words lift his spirits slightly, kenshi apologizing but you quickly shushing him.
in the end a threesome isn’t something he’s completely on board with. the two of you would have to revisit the topic later.
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BI-HAN ( SUBZERO ).
it’s a no. a hell no actually. the words barely escaped your lips before a strong, harsh no escaped the man.
you know better than to bring it up again.
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KUAI LIANG ( SCORPION ).
another situation where it’s a no, except he’s not as harsh as bi-han. it’s just something he wouldn’t be comfortable with as he likes keeping you and your pretty self all to himself.
i don’t see him getting mad though, might even find it a little funny you asked.
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TOMAS VRBADA ( SMOKE ).
another one who gets nervous that he isn’t enough, or that you aren’t satisfied. would agree just to make you happy. luckily you’re smart enough to ask him if he’s sure, and it’s fine if he says no.
of course tomas then admits his anxiety around the situation to which you sweetly ridicule him for saying yes despite his thoughts. you remind him this was only a silly fantasy, and he was the only one for you. after that talk ( and a night of comforting him ), he feels much more confident on the matter.
his pick would definitely be johnny cage. that’s literally his idol and the only other person that makes sense. asking bi-han or kuai liang just didn’t seem like a smart idea.
of course tomas is nervous during the ideal but some praise from both you and johnny, he actually begins to enjoy himself.
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LIU KANG.
liu kang is a busy man in general so any acts of intimacy is treasured and savored. there’s no rush and he always takes his time with you.
a threesome just wouldn’t be his style. but he wouldn’t be offended by your ask. he finds you and your interest kinks/fantasies, cute.
though, he does make more time for you after this talk.
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chokepoet · 8 months
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Cruelty & Empathy 18+
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gif by @romulussy
Summary | A night alone in the office has Roman and his assistant escalating their tension past a point of no return. The aftermath of which leads to confessions that will change the trajectory of their relationship forever.
Genre | Angst, Fluff, Porn With Plot
Content | anxiety, biting, blood, bondage, choking, crying, dom/sub tones, degradation, dirty talk, mentions of past physical abuse, power struggles, thigh riding, sadomasochism, slapping, spitting
Word Count | 8.5k
A/N: Y’all this fic is fuckin’ filthyyyy… but like in a romantic way??? I wasn’t going to share it but my best friend insisted. If y’all hate this I volunteer as tribute for boar on the floor lmao
Roman Roy’s Office | 10:33 pm
He was sprawled out across the couch as if this were his family’s private estate. It might as well have been. The building’s climate control always seemed to be blowing a peculiar air. One that felt like his father breathing down the back of his neck at all times. Left calf draped over the backrest, right hand cradling a whiskey, and head tilted back over the armrest. His once-slick hair now hung limp, with loose strands reaching for the carpet below. His upside-down gaze willed me to stop my attempts at meeting our deadline and to focus solely on him instead.
My bank account's dwindling had my morals emaciated. They’d weakly played tug of war with my last braincell when I'd accepted Roman’s job offer nearly two years prior. About 6 months into being his assistant, I found myself earning another role: his best friend. His only friend. My typing picks up speed as I contemplate what level of fucked-up I had to be in order to actually enjoy this job. I decide it must have been top-tier when my thoughts drift to the one Roy that had me feeling this way.
In the past 22 months, I came to understand Roman better than anyone else ever had. He somehow wormed his way into gaining just as much insight into me as well. It made me feel strangely protective over him. Oddly enough, he seemed to reciprocate. We still rarely aloud ourselves vulnerability in the presence of the other. We much preferred self-immolation. I don’t think he ever intended to grow so attached to me. He certainly would never admit to it. If you had asked me if the feeling was mutual, I’d lie through my teeth.
I loved him madly.
I don’t exactly know when or how it happened. I do, however, vividly remember when I first realized he held something soft for me.
Siena, Italy | 4:21 am
He was drunk off his ass, his head resting on my shoulder. He had been leaning into my frame for support long before he even needed it. Roman mumbled something about liking me because I was the only “sad sack of shit” in the office who could make him laugh. I asked him why I was a sad sack and not just a regular sack. He blew out a huff of air, causing his lips to trill. The sound was quickly preceded by the flipping of his wrists in a few circles.
“Isn't it obvious?” I nudged my shoulder against his head.
“Because I work for your sorry ass?”
He clumsily tapped the tip of my nose with his right pointer finger, nearly blinded my left eye in the process.
“Bingo, bongo, banjo.” The nonsensical words tumbled out and the rest of his drink tumbled in. “Itstheeyes.” I’d been unable to make out the slurred syllables mumbled just under his breath. For all I knew, they could’ve been Latin for ‘bastard’.
“What?” He dropped his now-empty glass into a historic fountain as we passed. I stopped to try and fish it out, but he dragged me away. I remember wondering if he had made a wish on it in his drunken haze. Rich and careless enough to pretend it was a penny. Maybe that had been why he was so adamant about me not retrieving it. My mind wandered as I pondered what Roman could have possibly wished for. His father's approval? An endless supply of luxurious Korean face creams? A pair of stunning Italian supermodels to lean into instead of me?
Tripping over his own two feet, I instinctively gripped his bicep. Stubborn as ever, he shoved me and muttered something along the lines of 'fuck off'. God forbid he’d take my help. Throwing my hands up, I left him to walk alone a few steps ahead of me. He weaved for a while before slowing his pace until he could lay his head back on my shoulder.
A beat passed, where the only sound was the soft crunch of our shoes against the weathered cobblestone. I caught one of his bleary eyes peeking over at my face. Content with whatever it was he found, he nodded to himself.
“Yep.” He popped his lips on the 'p' and absentmindedly kicked a pebble from our path. “It's the eyes. Sad sack of shit eyes. You've got 'em.” The laugh that had left me seemed much too loud as it ricocheted off every crumbling brick ahead of us. Roman smiled proudly for a moment. “I love your laugh.” The words were said mostly to himself. My cheeks warmed considerably.
“Really? It's obnoxious as all hell.” His brows furrowed, and he shook his head.
“No, it's fuckin’—fuck off. No, it's not.” He kicked another stone. “It's pretty. Pretty like… like your face.” Pretty. “Nothin’ like a hyena.” Hyena? “I think I'm gonna puke.”
He did.
Roman’s Office | 10:47 pm
“Hi.” A small voice lounging across from me pulls my attention. I look up from the computer and rest my head in my hand, my elbow propped on his desk.
“Hi.” I smile softly with a raised brow.“Need somethin’?” The grin that breaks across his features is almost childlike. His big brown eyes could even be mistaken for innocent; I knew better.
“As a matter of fact…” Extremely happy to have garnered my attention, he pulls himself to a sitting position. “Yes!” With a swift motion, he slams his whiskey onto the coffee table. The sharp sound of glass on glass reverberates throughout the room.
“Yes?”
“Yes?” His voice drops into a cartoonish impersonation of my own. His hand was still clasped around his drink for some reason. Flipping his face up to me with a saccharine simper, he adds, “Will you kindly suck my cock?”
“Will you kindly go fuck yourself?” My impression of him was just as cartoonish as his of me. The hand holding my head returns to typing. Groaning loudly, he lets go of his glass to dramatically fall back into the couch.
“Will you? ‘Cause I’m fuckin’ bored!” He drags out his words until they turn to whine. “This is fucking boring. Aren’t you bored?”
“Yes, you’re extremely boring.”
“Hurr-hurr.” He mocks while crinkling his nose. “I’ll have you know I’m anything but and am widely known as delightful company.” A snort escapes my nose and Roman smiles.
“Really? I thought you were widely known as a terrible person.” He rolls his eyes as I quote his cousin.
“Yeah, yeah fuck you.” He gives me the finger. I flip him off in return. “The fuck does Nosferatu fuckin’ know anyways?” The nickname makes me chuckle and has Roman mimicking Greg. “Oh, I—I couldn’t help but—couldn’t help but notice that my gargantuan height may be alarm—alarming the schoolchildren. I—is that why Iverson is um c—crying? Or is he like, I—I mean, is he… y—ya know… special?”
The laughter still bubbled up uncontrollably even as I tried maintaining focus on the task at hand. My passive interest towards Roman was annoying him to no end.
“Come on! I want entertainment! Entertain me, woman!” I roll my eyes. A cinnamon tinted stare was steady burning apertures into my features, willing me to stop ignoring him. “Come—Come on…” His hands outstretch in my direction, middle and index finger beckoning quickly. “Come show big daddy watcha got.” As soon as the words leave his mouth, my typing stops and I fully turn my attention towards him. His face contorts in a grimace already knowing what was to come. My brows raise as I slowly repeat his words back to him.
“Come show big daddy what I got?” Roman’s hands drag down his face and he groans loudly as soon as big leaves my mouth.
“Oh, fuck y—shut the fuck up.” He sinks lower into the couch with high hopes of it swallowing him whole. The smile that breaks across my features is downright malevolent. I couldn’t recall having ever seen him this embarrassed. Surprising, considering all the lewd shit he spews at me daily. There was something sick inside me that enjoyed it. The urge to play cat rather than mouse overtakes me.
“No, no, no. I just want to understand you clearly, Mr. Roy.” Our dynamic had never been much of a professional one. I couldn’t recall the last time I had addressed him so formally but I wanted to really get under his skin. Oddly enjoying my place in its prickled embrace. Rising from my chair, I place both palms on the desk and lean forward with a pout. “Are you saying you wanna shut me up with your cock, big daddy?”
“I’m going to fucking kill myself.” He was pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Aw! Weawwy, Daddy? Jus' 'cause I won't suwck yo big thick cock?” At that, a cushion flies towards my head. I narrowly catch it as I’m doubling over in laughter. He’s standing now, hands overtly animated.
“I swear to GOD, I’m going to fucking—fuck! Fuck you! Out the window!” He’s angrily pointing towards the giant window panes beside him. “I’m going to throw you out the fucking window!”
“Oh wow, you’re gonna fuck me out the window?” His face was the deepest shade of crimson I had ever seen it.
“If you don’t shut the fuck up, I swear to Christ I’ll—“
“You’ll what?” I was doing a piss-poor job at stifling my laughter.
“I just fucking told you. Ass through glass.” He dismissively waves a hand in the air.
“Bullshit.” Finally looking at me, I cross my arms. His eyes flicker to my chest. “You don’t have the balls.”
“Are you saying I don’t have the balls to murder you?” The words come out in a bemused laugh. “I could murder the fuckin’—murder the shit out of you. Easily.”
“Okay.” With a shrug of my shoulders, I feel a dark coil in the back of my mind start to twist. “Prove it.”
“Prove it? You want me to—to what? Throw you through the goddamn window right now?”
I smirk back at him with a shrug, an inkling I had about him spilling to the forefront of my mind. It colors my vision and stains my tongue. If there was ever a time to find out if my suspicions held true, for some reason, I decided that now was the time. The office was definitely empty at this hour, and the privacy blinds were drawn, so no cameras. Risky as all hell, but if things go south, maybe I could play it off as riffing. I could be quite the convincing liar when I needed to be. My mother saw to that.
“See? I knew it.” With hands on my hips, I tilt my head to size him up. My tone shifts into something silky as sin. “You won’t do shit.” The air begins filling with static causing Roman’s lips to twitch. “You and I both know it. Don’t we…” I slide out from behind the desk, feeling taller as I grow closer. Feeling bolder seeing him swallow. “Romulus?” Using his father’s nickname for him causes his nostrils to flare. A clench in the jaw, a quick exhale. I fucking knew it. “So why don’t you just…” Fully standing in front of him now, I look down with a smirk “sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up for once in your life.”
The air was now overcome with static. Thick and heavy. The subjugated desire etched into his features felt so familiar to me. While I had never seen him this way, or anyone else for that matter, I myself had given that look many a time. That inkling I had was no longer an inkling. It had grown roots that smiled with wicked teeth; I was right.
The electric silence between us started to prick at my skin. My bottom lip twitches as it fought against every instinct to fill the silence with some form of an apology. To try and turn my sudden shift from dominance back into normalcy. His eyes dart to my mouth immediately; he knows.
“Make me.” His head slowly tilts upwards, as do the corners of his lips. The heat that had been slowly brewing between us for well over a year licks up my thighs. He was sneering up at me as we stood toe to toe. His burnt espresso eyes had my mind spiraling in their steam. The look on his face said everything. He saw me, he had me, he called my bluff, he won.
No.
My hand wound itself in the silky hair at the nape of his neck and I use it to jerk his head back. His jaw immediately goes slack. Something akin to a whimper escapes his throat. Surprise has my brows raising and Roman feeling embarrassed. His heavy lids fall and he turns himself away. Reaching up with my free hand, I grip his jaw until he’s facing me once again.
“Look at me.” He does in an instant and I’m flooded by a mixture of emotions. Relief, power, love. I never want to forget how he looks beneath my hands. The way his pupils eclipse the hazel of his eyes. The way his freckles scatter under the pinkish hue of a blush. The way his lips part slightly as his breath shakes out across them. Just as my eyes dance across his every feature, his do mine. Is he etching my features into his own memory?
He attempts to lean forward but I hold him steady. Roman wanted to kiss me but I wanted to tease. I press my lips beside his mouth before trailing them along the smooth path of skin leading to his ear. Sucking his skin into my mouth, I bit gently. A soft sound of content slips from his lips, so I trace up the shell of his ear with my tongue. Upon my return, I bite down once more; harder this time. Just as my teeth release him, the fist tangled in his hair gives a sharp tug. His hum bleeds into a moan that has me squeezing my thighs together. A cool plume of air billows past my lips along the now damp skin; goosebumps erupt immediately. I slide my hand from his jaw until my fingers wrap around his throat to hold him.
“Do you like this, Rome?” The soft whisper has him murmuring his satisfaction. “Come on…” I lightly squeeze his throat. “Be a good boy and use your words.” When I pull away to look at his face, I find his lids are nearly shut.
“Y-yeah.” He swallows in an attempt to steady himself. It doesn’t. “Y-yes, I like it.” He could barely look me in the eyes and it made my stomach flip in the best way possible.
“God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty like this.” The words slip out before I have the chance to stop them. He inhales sharply, and the air seems to rattle through his skull. His eyes quickly leave mine as his face warms considerably. My heart beats as if it were trying to rip itself from my chest and collide with his. The blood rushing in my ears was chanting 'I love you' over and over again. My teeth dig into my cheek until the taste of blood envelops my tongue. I'm raging a war with my own body in silence. This newfound power was locking talons with my own subjugated nature and death spiraling through the emotion in my chest.
His pulse was racing underneath my thumb. My voice cascades over his flushed skin as I let feather light kisses rain upon him. His first name glides along the tip of his right cheek, his last over the tip of his left. Hovering just out of his reach, I whisper into his open mouth.
“Tell me what you need.” He desperately tries to press his lips into mine but I just pull back. He grunts in frustration.
“Just fuckin’ kiss me already.”
“No.” Releasing my grip, I shove him into the couch. He trips backwards, gracelessly collapsing into the cushions. I climb onto his lap with my knees pressed to either side of his hips. With one hand, I weave my fist around his tie and pull him to me. My other grips his jaw tightly. “You wanna try that again?” His jaw clenches beneath my fingers. His eyes were wild as they flared up at me. Suddenly, his hands lock onto my hips, hard. He pushes his face into my fingers until the tips of our noses bump together.
“I said, just fucking kiss me and I meant do it now.” His words were caught somewhere between a hiss and a growl. He never could handle the word no, so his response shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did. The power I’d been holding over him was now leaking through the lace under my skirt. My thighs instinctively flex around him and it has him digging his fingers in harder. A liquid heat spreads through my chest at the thought of later seeing the bruises he was surely leaving behind.
“Well?” My teeth clench and the hand holding his jaw twitches. The attitude lacing his voice drug it’s nails up my spine as I’m reminded of how entitled he could be. He wasn’t supposed to be the one making demands anymore. His smile twitches as a darkness blooms behind his glee. “You wanna hit me don’t you?” My grip loosened; my lungs suddenly feeling like he held them in his fist.
“W-what?” I didn’t want to hit him. Did I? He was selfish, he was arrogant, and he could be so goddamn cruel. Still, the urge to physically harm him was something I had never once encountered. Knowing the history of his childhood and having bared witness to his father’s present day violence against him had made me hyper aware of the constant pain pulsing below his surface. My eyes rapidly blink as they search past his burning stare and into the darkened crevices of his soul.
Oh—he wanted me to hurt him.
His need for it radiating from the blackened pits to scald me. It scared me. It scared me because it felt dark. It felt wrong. But it scared me the most of all because suddenly in this moment, I wanted to. “I-I don’t-“
“Shut the fuck up.” Again, my teeth clench and my grip retightens on his jaw. His smile grew. Mother fucker knew what he was doing. He was basking in it.
He reaches for my hand wound in his tie, quickly unraveling before bringing it to his throat. His own then slide towards my ass. Gripping tightly, he pushes me down against his length to make sure I felt how badly he wanted this. He throbbed against my center; he wanted it bad. “Listen to me. You’re gonna let go of my jaw and you’re gonna fuckin’ slap me, aright?” I nod and release him. “Fuckin’ hit me.” As I draw back my palm, his tongue peaks out to wet his bottom lip.
Slap.
My palm makes contact and brushes across his cheek. It was a sad attempt really. Weak. Even though I knew he wanted it, needed it, something inside held me back.
I was still scared of harming him.
“Are you fucking kidding me? Come on!” He roughly digs his fingers into my ass, significantly harder than before. “I said fucking slap me!”
Crack.
I slapped him. Hard. His face jerks to the side. My hand stung as it instinctively goes to cover my mouth in shock of myself. His lips twitch before slowly turning up in a demented grin. A bloom of red seeps out from his bottom lip and his tongue slides across it. With the taste of his own blood, his smile widens. He laughs softly to himself and I slowly lower my hand.
“There she is.” His voice low, a rumbling purr. “You fuckin’ bitch.” The hand I had just used to strike instantly flies into the mess of his hair; our lips collide. A groan escapes, but from which of us—I didn’t know. The metallic taste of him fueled me. It felt frantic, bruising, needy. We pushed ourselves into each other as if we were feral creatures, held captive and starved. Feeding on something we had buried deep inside only to be found behind the teeth of the other. Sucking his tongue into my mouth causes him to moan and set me ablaze.
I force our mouths apart with a pull of his hair; desperately needing to catch my breath and clear my head. Panting heavily, we stare into the depths of the other in quiet disbelief. This was really happening.
“You sure you want this?” I needed to hear him confirm that he did, in-fact, want to go where we were obviously heading. I knew Roman long enough to know he had serious intimacy issues. Their seeming lack of presence in this moment had me in a whirlwind. He pressed himself into my center once again, his nails bruising crescents into my skin.
“What do you fuckin’ think, dumbass?” I let go of his throat and dig my own nails into his jaw to grip him harshly. He openly smiles with swollen lips.
“Tell me then. Tell me exactly what you want.” His expression falters and his jaw tenses beneath my fingers, eyes flickering from mine.
“You know what I fuckin’ want.” His words seep through gritted teeth. I press my forehead to his. Ever so slowly, I begin rhythmically grinding my hips down upon him. The friction causing his eyes to slip shut. A loud groan escapes from somewhere deep within his chest.
“Roman, I swear to God I’ll stop.” He doesn’t say anything so I still my hips. Umber eyes shoot open and he tries to move me himself. I won’t budge. “I will get up and I will fucking leave you here like this. Pathetic and alone with nothing but your hand.” As the words leave my mouth, so do my hips leave his. His brows snap together and tries in vain to pull me back down again. Still, I don’t budge. “I will walk out this door and you will never fucking see me again. Is that what you want?” The threat was hollow but said with a bite that had shaken me. I was falling into this role a little too easily, a little too well.
He gapes up at me when I completely let go of him. Placing my hands on his shoulders, I attempt to push myself off. It’s him who doesn’t budge this time. He yanks me back down with every ounce of strength his small frame contained. The sudden action has all the air escaping my lungs. With a hand clasped to the back of my neck, he seizes me into a searing kiss.
“Whatever you want.” The words frantically rush into my mouth. “I don’t care.” Fighting against the grip on my neck, he finally gives. I pull back to contemplate his words. Tilting my head slightly, my gaze falls to his tie. An idea begins forming as I slowly untie the silk. My nimble fingers unbuttoning his shirt has him intently studying my face. Whatever I want.
Cupping his warm face in one hand, I smear the blood of his bottom lip with my thumb. He parts his mouth and sucks it in. With my other, I reach for Roman’s and slide his own thumb into my waiting mouth. As I swirl my tongue around him, Roman’s eyes darken and he sucks me harder.
Pulling from his lips with a pop, I rub my now wet thumb against his nipple. A soft moan is let loose. My tongue continuously plays with him inside me. He shudders as I pinch the bud beneath my fingers before doing the same to the other. Letting go of his hand, I reach forward to pinch both simultaneously and he groans loudly.
My cheeks hollow around his thumb as he slips it from me. He drags it down my bottom lip and stares intently. Transfixed by my spit glistening in the incandescent light. Cupping my jaw, he pulls me forward to replace his thumb with his tongue. That familiar groan returning when I suck him in. His other hand tangles itself into my staticky waves and he kisses me with everything he has.
“Give me your wrists.” The order was partially muffled against his mouth.
“Huh?” The question was mumbled into my lips.
“I said,” Threading my fingers into his own hair, I pull him back. “give me your fucking wrists.” With a dramatic tug, his tie is jerked from underneath his collar in a rush. He sat still, blinking up at me. The walnut shells of his eyes fall into my hands. There was a slight apprehension, a nervousness to them. “Do you trust me, Rome?”
“Y-yeah.” His voice was hushed as he presents his hands to me and I slowly start wrapping the silk around his wrists.
“We can stop at anytime. You know that, right? Just say the word and I’ll stop immediately.” My reassurance seems to irritate more than comfort. He rolls his eyes with a tilt of the head.
“Would you fuck off? I’m fine.” A crease digs itself into the bridge of his nose and my actions immediately still.
“I’m not going to fuck off unless I know that you know that you’re safe with me, okay?” This dominate role was far from the submissive one I was innately familiar with. We obviously had never discussed boundaries and I didn’t know where the lines were anymore. “I need you to know you can speak up. That I’ll stop the second you tell me to.” Roman looks like he’d rather get a root canal than continue this discussion, but I don’t care. This was far too important. “I need you to know that your comfort is important—that your feelings matter.”
“I fucking know it, alright?” He snapped before groaning and throwing his head back. “God, what the fuck else do you need to know before you just shut the fuck up and get on with it already?” My hand quickly finds its way to his throat with a squeeze. He seems more than pleased by this response.
“Do you wanna fucking cum?”
“Clearly I wanna fuckin’—“ My other hand slaps over his mouth and I can feel him smiling underneath my palm. Roman was gladly trying to piss me off. He was itching to see me lose control; yearned to meet the creature locked inside me. The wicked one I never acknowledged or came near; the demon only he could see. She bathes me in the blood of solidified suspicions.
Roman didn’t want my empathy.
Roman wanted my cruelty.
“Then are you fucking stupid? If you don’t shut the fuck up I’ll make damn sure to have you crying like a little bitch before I even think of letting you cum.” His eyes blackened as he watches my succubuss unhinge her jaw to swallow me whole. “Got it?” He nods quickly. Rapid bursts of air shoot from his nose across the back of my hand. “And lose the fuckin’ attitude.” Removing my hand, I slap him across the mouth; handing myself over to his desires completely.
Having finished binding his wrists and setting them behind his head, I rise from the couch. Standing between his ankles, I unzip my skirt and let it fall to my feet. The muscles in his forearms flex. His tongue peaks between his lips as he gawked at the damp lace between my thighs. Sliding my finger below his chin, I tilt his head until he meets my eyes.
“You know what I want, Roman?” My hand takes home around his throat once again. Now having his full attention, I feel him swallow as he shakes his head. His excitement was palpable. Settling my right knee between his thighs, I nudge it gently against his hard length. His nostrils flare with a sharp inhale. “I want you to watch me get myself off on your thigh.” He groans loudly. I couldn’t tell if it was out of desire, frustration, or a mixture of both but the response delighted me nonetheless. Placing my left knee to the other side of his thigh, I fully seat myself upon him. “Knowing there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it.”
“Fuck.” Slowly grinding against the fabric of his thigh, my lashes flutter at the sensation. A soft moan escapes me before I can stop it. I was dripping wet and could already feel myself swiftly ruining his ostentatiously expensive pants.
“How does it feel Roman? To have me use you like this?“ A whimper meets my ears. His eyes transfixed on my clothed center sliding roughly against his thigh. There was a fire beneath his skin and he was entranced by the sight of kerosene being poured upon it. “To ruin you like this?” His smokey gaze flickers up to mine and I use the moment to grind myself harder against him. The rough friction elicits another moan from me, louder this time. “This is all you’re good for—” My final word comes out in a whine causing Roman to tear into his bottom lip hard enough to draw more blood. “Tell me. How does it feel?” I nudge my knee into his throbbing member once more and the deepest groan ripples through his teeth. His arms jerk against his binds as I use my free hand to sharply twist his nipple. “Answer me!”
“Good! It feels—Fuck.” The sentiment came out hoarse and husky. He shoves his head back into his tied wrists, thrusting himself against my knee. “Feels so f-fuckin’ good.” Digging my thumb into his pulse point, I slide my knee back. He whines; all hopes of friction dashing in an instant.
“No. You don’t get to cum until I say you do. Got it, you demented little fuck?” He’s a whimpering mess beneath me; eyes wide and watery. I wanted to drown myself in the sight and never touch the light of day again.
My thong bunches to the side from the aggression in my movements. Now fully bare against him, a shiver rushes through me as my clit kisses the luxurious fabric of his thigh. I wasn’t going to last much longer.
“If you don’t fucking behave I swear to God I’ll leave you like this—tied up and soaking for whoever to find.” The bite in my threats were losing their edge. My voice lost somewhere between a moan and sigh. An impending orgasm flicks it’s tongue at the base of my spine.
“Wouldn’t want it to be your father who finds you like this, would you?” A mangled whine shakes itself from his throat and has me smiling.
The blood seeping from his parted lips seem to glitter under the city light of his windows. I flatten my tongue across his jaw and drag it up his chin until my mouth fills with copper. The taste causes a sigh to slip from my mouth into his.
“You’re close. I-I can feel it.” His voice tight and high-pitched as he starts to slightly bounce his leg. “You’ve f-fucking drenched me.” The jolting of his thigh into my clit has my head falling into his shoulder; grinding harder and faster against him. The nails of my right hand embed themselves into the skin of his waist. A carnal mosaic of the flesh born below my grip. I was at the brink. “I-I wanna feel you cum.” He’s whining as he starts to bounce his leg faster; face buried in my hair. His shaking breath against my cheek has my entire body erupting in goosebumps. “P-please lemme f-feel you cum.” His beg hitches to an even higher pitch. His thigh nearly vibrating under me, desperate pleas rippling through me. Every nerve ending in my body felt ablaze.
It was all too much.
A scream rips from my lungs and I sink my teeth into the flesh of Roman’s shoulder. He tasted of salt and brimstone. My nails frenetically scratch into his skin as my thighs tremble and squeeze. Groans barrel up from his chest to mingle with my own. My release shatters through me with a blinding intensity I had never experienced before. I was overflowing; drenching his thigh to seep into his soul.
The heaving of our chests pressed tightly together slowly lulls me back down again. My fingertips absentmindedly painting shapes into his skin with the blood I’d drawn from his waist. Sparkles of light and voids of soot twirl across my vision. An indention of my teeth remained etched into his shoulder. He shudders when I press a soft kiss onto the bruised skin. My head falling heavy when it replaces my mouth to lean into him.
I’m suddenly reminded of Roman’s own much needed release upon finding his hips desperately grinding circles into empty air. He’s whimpering; body begging. My hand still cradled his throat so I languidly brush my thumb along his pulse point. His heart was racing.
“Do you need to cum, Roman?” A loud, high-pitched whine answers me.
“Please.” The word comes out in a choked sob. “I need—“ He was fighting against his binds, the silk digging painfully into his wrists. “Please.” He frantically presses open mouth kisses into any inch of my skin that he could reach; pleading with glassy eyes. “Please lemme cum.” I leave his throat to gently cup his cheek and smile softly before pulling back from him. “No—“ He stops himself when I thread one hand into his hair and place the other bloodied one atop his chest.
“You gonna cum your pants for me, Romie?” I take my sweet time sliding my palm towards where he needs it most. “Like the needy little slut that you are?” The whispered words were dripping in ghost pepper honey that had him swallowing. “Are you that desperate? That pathetic?”
“Yes.” The answer comes out in a quiet quick rush of air. “Y-yeah, I am.” My hand finally reaches his pulsing length and it twitches beneath my fingers. He immediately ruts against my palm and I squeeze him before jerking his head back.
“Stop.” He clenches his teeth but surprisingly does. Tensing beneath me, using every ounce of self control to still himself. He was trembling beneath my grasp. Frustrated tears caressed his lashes and began streaming down his flushed cheeks. His breath was coming out hard and shallow through flared nostrils.
A memory flashes through my mind: Roman’s captivated stare watching his glistening thumb press into my bottom lip.
“Open your mouth.” Again, he follows my orders instantly. Hovering my face above his, my lips purse with a drop of spit. He catches it with a moan that I immediately kiss into my mouth. “Cum.” My voice drops just above a whisper against his raw lips. “Make a mess of yourself.”
He instantly begins fucking himself roughly into my grip. The heat of his flesh searing me through the fabric. Grunting into my open mouth as I tug his hair into the cushions just below his wrists. His hands opening and closing before locking into tight fists. “Look at me.” His eyes shoot open. “Such a good boy for me.” A familiar emotion swirls through the sliver of hazel around his pupils. His lids flutter as he fought with everything in him to keep himself rooted in my gaze. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Roman.”
His hips shoot from the couch as he explodes and spreads me open across his thigh. The sensation causes my breath to catch in my throat. A gravely yell rips from the deepest parts of himself and tears apart every muscle in my body. He pours everything he has into the fabric beneath my hand with wide eyes never leaving mine. He collapses hard with shuttering breaths; body limp and twitching.
I release him to bring my palm to my lips; the slightest bit damp from him. My tongue paints his taste into my memory with pupils blown. Jaw slack, he watches intently through heavy wet lashes. His muddy eyes fill with that same emotion I had seen from him earlier.
“Lemme taste you.” The request was nearly silent but it rattled me like a wail. If I was any further from him I wouldn’t have heard it, but I did and couldn’t believe he had asked. Lifting my hips slightly, I run two fingers through my sensitive folds and shiver. He immediately takes notice and a ghost of a smile tugs at his lips.
My fingers tremble as they rise towards his mouth. He inhales deeply before parting his lips for me. Slipping into the velvet of his mouth, his eyes flutter shut. His pointed tongue runs up between their gaps before flattening to drag back down. He was savoring every drop as if he were a starved man lost at sea. An involuntary hum reverberates from his throat into my skin and his cheeks seem to darken even more. He playfully bites down with sparkling eyes when I slip my fingers from his warm mouth.
The sight had the blood pounding in my ears beginning their familiar chant: ‘I love you, I love you, I love you.’ It overwhelmed me and I couldn’t help but pull him into one last searing kiss. Tasting myself on his tongue had my head spinning. Here on my knees, I prayed to a godless sky that he could taste my heart overflowing into his mouth. Cupping his cheeks in both hands, my thumbs brush away the damp paths left by his previous tears. His forehead suddenly creases beneath mine.
“You okay, Rome?” He shakes my hands from his face and turns away from me. My own brows knot together in worry.
“I’m fine.” His face further contorts upon hearing how his voice cracked. It might as well have cracked my ribs right along with it. He clenches his jaw before gnawing at the inside of his cheek. His hands form into tight fist behind his head. He was trying not to cry again.
My fingers twitch in my lap and it takes everything in me not to wrap him in my arms. Instead, I reach for his wrists and bring them forward. They felt heavy and limp in my hands. Right as I began my attempt at untying them, a small sniffle brings my attention back to Roman’s face.
“It’s okay if you’re not okay, you know?” I try to gently reassure him but it only deepens the tortured disgust in his features.
“I said I’m fucking fine.” The words are spit with a venom that eats through to my bones. Feeling me search his feature has him crumbling before me. Fresh tears immediately start spilling down his cheeks and into the pits of my soul. I couldn’t help but reach for him. He surprisingly lets me cup his cheek, so I gently turn him to face me. His eyes squeeze tighter below my lips as I lightly kiss their corners. The small gesture of affection has a mangled sob ripping from his chest. Fully burying his face into my hand, he lets himself weep into my palm.
Brushing back the strands of hair sticking to his sweat, I feel my own eyes filling with tears. Refusing to let myself cry, I leave his hair to clumsily attempt untying his wrists with one hand but the knot had grown significantly tighter. No doubt from Roman constantly pulling against it all this time.
“Hey, Rome?” He responds with a mangled sound in the back of his throat. A desperate need to comfort and free him started anxiously clawing at my throat. “Listen, I know you’re totally fine and everything but I’m actually not.” His watery eyes glance to me, not registering that I’m joking. “The she demon that possessed me, she—the bitch was a Girl Scout from hell. This knot’s tighter than a goddamn hangman’s noose.” Roman pulls his face from my hand while rapidly blinking. The sounds of grinding metal fill my ears and their smokey scent tickles my nose. I flash him a goofy, albeit nervous, smile and the gears inside his head finally click into place.
“You’re a fucking idiot.” There was no bite to his words, having spoke them through a bemused chuckle. He wipes his nose with back of his hand and inhales the remnants of his vulnerability. Grateful relief balms the scrapes at my neck left by worry’s desperate claws.
His smile falters when I suddenly get up and leave him; it's as if a burst of panic fills his chest. However, when he watches me pick up a pair of scissors and the joggers from his gym bag, I sense the tension in him ease slightly. It's only when I climb back atop his thigh that he appears fully relieved. The weight of my warmth sinking into him seems to ground him.
After tossing his change of pants onto the cushion beside us, I carefully slide the blade under his tie and free him. The silk had dug in painfully, leaving nearly raw indentions in it’s wake. I mentally make a note to check my purse for some soothing lotion later as my fingers lightly brush across his skin. My thumbs begin rubbing into the muscles of his forearms. Roman was studying my face intently.
“These feel okay?” Shaking out his wrists, he rotates them a few times before letting them fall limp in my lap. It was his way of silently asking me to continue with my actions. He had far too much pride to express his desire for such a tender expression.
“Feels fine.” He fights off a shy smile when my hands pick up where they left off, massaging him gently. “My side on the other hand feels like fuckin’ cruise papers with the way ya shredded me.” He chuckles but I could still hear the residual emotion behind it. I lift the corner of his shirt up to take a look. The sight has my stomach instantly dropping; tangled weeds of angry wounds imbedded deep into flesh. Needles of red hot guilt begin sewing threads of shame up my legs. Looking down, I’m greeted with his blood caked under my nails. Memories of violence and words of degradation take ownership of my lungs.
“Fuck Rome…” My voice cracks and I suddenly feel my own tears holding a knife to my throat. “I’m so fucking sorry.” Roman quickly tears the fabric from my grasp and yanks it down.
“Oh shit. No no no no no—fuck fuck fuck.” His panicked expression made me feel so much worse. The canines of an anxiety attack drag up the nape of my neck like a threat. “I—I was fucking kidding!”
“I shouldn’t have d—done that to you. I—I shouldn’t have hit you. I shouldn’t have said—I didn’t—Rome, I didn’t mean them! The words—I—I’m so sor—“
“Oh dear God, would you fuckin’ stop.” He quickly cut me off but I had already dove to the deep end of a molten lava shame spiral.
“I—I made you fucking bleed Roman!” He rolls his eyes. “Multiple times!” His hands slap themselves onto the sides of my face, pressing hard into my cheeks.
“Yeah and you licked it up and it was the sexiest fuckin’—” I couldn’t open my eyes to look at him. If I looked at him I’d most certainly start crying. “I mean, I’m literally fucking drenched in cum right now.” My mouth was set in a hard line but my bottom lip quivered. “Come on now…” Nope, didn’t have to look at him. Turns out his voice alone could send tears falling. “I was kidding! I liked the fuckin’—fuckin’ feral scratchy shit! It was hot! And—and I told you to hit me! I—I wanted it! I wanted you to say all that fuckin’ nasty shit!” His fingers press into my skin harder as if he could force his sentiments to penetrate my skull. “I…I fuckin’ loved it. Like a lot. Okay?” My head was shaking back and forth trying to gain some control over my emotions, shake free of my tears. Roman didn’t know that though. How could he? I wasn’t speaking. He probably thought my actions were just my way of rejecting him. “Please don’t fuckin’ do this.”
My eyes crack open as I remove Roman’s hands from my face. The knotted look of bewilderment etched into his features summons the childhood phantom of my mother. Taking her disembodied palm to slap me across the mouth and rattle me with shrill screams: ‘You need to pull yourself the fuck together!’ I follow suit, digging the heels of my palms into my eyes.
“Promise?” My question came out pathetic and small. I fucking hated it and I fucking hated crying. I’m being fucking ridiculous. Stupid.
“Again, and I can’t stress this enough, soaking in my own cum right now.” His reassurance comes with a laugh that tugs my frown up slightly.
“I just—I’m sorry. It was one thing in the moment but just like… I dunno. I’ve never done anything like that. I—I don’t know what came over me.” My face felt feverish as the backs of my hands wipe the shame staining my cheeks. “Seeing the aftermath just kinda, it just—The thought of actually hurting you makes me feel fucking sick, Rome.” I feel the back of Roman’s knuckle brush away the tears I had missed. Chancing a look at his face gifted me the softest expression I had ever seen from him. “I never want to cause you any real harm.” My voice sounded almost foreign, weak with emotion and vulnerability. Where did all my bravado go? Oh yeah, it’s dripping down my thighs.
“Well you didn’t, alright? I’m fine. Like completely. A-o-fuckin’-kay over here.” He throws me the okay symbol and tries offering me a reassuring smile but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“But you were crying, Rome.” The smile instantly drops.
“That? No, I wasn’t—“ He shakes his head before scratching at his jaw. “It—it wasn’t because of that.” My brows furrow, and he groans, hands dragging down his face. “Look, I didn’t—I don’t—fuck!” He shakes his fingers through his hair and looks as if he’s about to rip it out. Refusing to meet my eyes, his stare finally settles on my hands lying face up in my lap. “It was your fuckin’—your hands, okay? It was your fuckin’ hands.” My eyes fall from his face and focus on the blood staining my fingertips. So it really was because I hit him. “The way you—“ He sighs. “The way you held me.” Oh. His head falls back as a long frustrated groan escapes him, eyes searching for heaven in the ceiling. “I dunno, okay? It just felt—it felt—“ He couldn’t finish. His eyes fall shut before he continues, his voice even quieter than before. “All I could think about was how you had looked at me.” I swallow before whispering just as quietly as he.
“How did I look at you?”
“I don’t know.” His voice grew thick with emotion once again. He shakes his head and finally meets my eyes; looking so defeated and sad. His pain bled me. “You’re always fuckin’ lookin’ at me like—like—“ Again, he can’t finish. He clenches his jaw like a threat towards the words caught in his throat.
“Like I love you?” His eyes squeeze shut and he turns his face from me once again; hiding himself from my words. I watch him clench and unclench his jaw until courage clenches my own. “Because I do love you, Roman.” Every muscle in his body seemed to tense beneath me, but I couldn’t stop my feelings from shattering their shackles. They’d been locked up for so long that their first taste of freedom sends them sprinting. “I love you so fucking much.” He clenches his fists, still unable to open his eyes and look at me.
I let myself lean into him and lay my head onto his shoulder. His fist start to unfurl and he lets his head fall against mine. A shuddering breath leaves him and he buries his face into my hair, hands tentatively resting on my hips. We sit in silence as I listen to his breathing slowly steadying. Once it had nearly returned to normal, I feel his lips gently press into my temple.
“I love you too.” The words were murmured into me, a heavy sigh follows after them. “You have no fucking idea.” The wilted buds of my heart and mind begin to bloom. My arms wrap themselves around him and squeeze him to me tightly. He reluctantly wraps his arms around me as well; slowly tightening his embrace until he’s clinging to my soul. Turning my head I press a kiss into the side of his throat and hear him sigh once again; the weight between us was dissipating.
“I’m sorry for freaking out earlier.” The words he had stuttered out when trying to calm me drift to the forefront of my mind. “I—I liked it too.” The warmth of his skin embraces my shy confession. “What we did together, I mean.” I hear him snort and it has me smiling against him. The air was feeling lighter.
“I’d fuckin’ say so, ya fuckin’ banshee. You shoulda seen how fuckin’ hard you came. I mean—Jesus Christ, you were fuckin’ feral.” I hide my face further into his neck but can’t help the laughter that bubbles up from me. “And now you act all fuckin’ bashful and shit? How the fuck does that even work? You literally tied me up and road my thigh like a buckin’ bronco.” I bite his throat and my body shakes from his laughter vibrating through me.
“Fuck you! I’m complex.”
“Yeah, no shit.” He tangles his hands in my hair and pulls me back to face him. “You’re fuckin’ insane, you know that?” He was smiling as he said it. “You drive me fucking insane.”
“The feelings mutual.” His smile only widens and he bounces his leg. I yelp in surprise, frantically gripping at his arms to maintain balance. He’s giggling uncontrollably. “You’re a sick fuck, Roman Roy.”
“Ooo round two already, thigh master?” He bounces his leg again. I try to slap his chest but he catches my wrist with his freehand and pulls me into a kiss I’m never going to forget. It was different than all the ones we had shared prior. This one was so much softer, so much gentler. Our foreheads rest against one another. His smile against my lips illuminates every crevice once void of light; I was loved.
789 notes · View notes
trevuorzegras · 28 days
Text
━╋ SHE WAS BORING
✿ umich cheer au part one ⬚͒ㅤㅤㅤ♪
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ⓘ all works for this series can be found on the #wrong time is an inconvenience au tag! ❤︎
fem!reader x mark estapa
mentions of fem!reader x cole sillinger
mentions of mark estapa x fem!oc
faceclaim: jules leblanc
find the series masterlist, here!
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colesillinger
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colesillinger: my girl. ❤️
liked by adamfantilli, bluejacketsnhl, and others
user1: uhh did y/n dye her hair??
↳ yourusername: i very much did not. still very much a brunette. 🙃
↳ user2: wait what? yourusername
user3: i’m so confused
user4: dude did you mean to post this.. cause..
jadewinters: what the fuck??
↳ colesillinger: is there a problem jaden?
jadewinters: watch yourself sillinger.
user5: what is going on??
user6: isn’t y/n back at uni..?
↳ user7: yeah y/n is also NOT A BLONDE.
liked by yourusername
user8: he just openly posted about him cheating.. ok..
user9: y’all act like a man can’t have friends 🤣🤣
↳ user10: they’re kissing, if that’s friends then 💀
user11: interesting.. 🙃
(PINNED) colesillinger: coming at me like i care, she was boring so i traded up 🤷‍♂️
↳ user12: you’re so fucking odd bro
yourusername: good to see where you stand. this definitely could’ve been handled privately; but if this is how you want it, so be it. have a good life, and an amazing nhl career, cole. 🩷
↳ user13: this is actually so upsetting. she’s genuinely too kind to be treated like this.
user14: i thought you guys were end game wtf
adamfantilli: yk i love you dude, but what the fuck is wrong with you bro
↳ user15: even adam knows ts is wrong
this post has been deleted.
yourusername
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yourusername: been a very productive day! 1) got cheated on. 2) went to a hockey game! 3) went to a post hockey party! 4) met some of the team 5) got absolutely shit faced with jadewinters oh! and i took this beautiful picture of dylanduke5
liked by edwards.73, luca.fantilli, and others
(PINNED) yourusername: i have practice tomorrow, and jade let me do this. whatever #goblue 〽️
lhughes_06: i really shouldn’t have left you alone at umich. 💀
↳ yourusername: can’t believe you never introduced me to your team, especially since they’re this fun to be around
↳ lhughes_06: ?? that’s EXACTLY why i didn’t introduce you to them. yourusername
user16: THERES ABSOLUTELY NO WAY
user17: SHE MET THE TEAM?
user18: cheerleader meets hockey players
markestapa: hope to see you again y/n
↳ yourusername: boy i gave you my number
↳ jadewinters: oh did you now 😏 yourusername
lhughes_06: so it’s YOUR fault that y/n met the hockey team. jadewinters
↳ jadewinters: shut up mr nhl
user19: they seem like such a fun group 😭
user20: DUKER 💀
umichcheer: the second slide is correct! (also we’re ignoring the caption.)
↳ yourusername: oh… thanks guys love you
user21: the cheer account being in the comments LMFAO
user22: ETHAN AND MARK
user23: y’all on about the umich guys when y/n is RIGHT THERE HELLO???
liked by yourusername
user24: can’t wait to see more of y/n at the hockey games 🥅🏒〽️
luca.fantilli: OH YEAH
user25: the picture of y/n and jade awe 😭
user26: hope you had fun!
user27: puck bunnie
↳ yourusername: i prefer umich fan but thank you!
↳ user28: LMFOOAOAOOA yourusername
dylanduke5: oh i look dashing!
↳ yourusername: of course you do duker pooker 🥰
edwards.75: me and y/n become bestfriends if anyone is wondering
↳ yourusername: he accidentally drank my drink three times and kept apologizing, + said he’ll be my bestfriend & buy me whatever i want if i forgave him
user29: so many unexpected duos omg
user30: beauty
user31: WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THE CAPTION??
↳ user32: SHES SO UNBOTHERED IM CRYING
user33: cole fumbled and she’s living her best life LMFOAOAOA
rutgermcgroarty: no one talk to us we’re doing hot girl shit *hair flip*
↳ yourusername: boy go to BED 😭😭
user34: y/n it’s 3 am. 💀
its 5 am i’m so tired but i wanted to get at least one chapter done since i haven’t really worked on anything recently. find my masterlist, here!!
taglist | @wnderify (comment 2 be added)
also little psa! i love cole, so don’t even start with that please, it’s for the plot guys trust!
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ellabehavior · 11 months
Text
Matilda ~ JJ Maybank ✯
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Summary: You’ve grown up not being able to show much affection because of your family, but JJ knows just how to heal your wounds.
Pairing: JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Mention of abuse, a lil suggestive content
A/N: hope y’all enjoy! request r open!
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You've always been rather cautious about accepting hugs from people. Even as a young child, you might have hesitantly accepted a hug or just stood there not really knowing what to do. Likewise, expressing your love has always been difficult for you because it’s not something you would do very often inside your house hold.
Your parents never really said the words ‘I love you’. Sure, they’d sometimes give words of affirmation once in every blue moon, or they might hug you on special occasions but you never really got the feeling of true family love.
As a kid you would always watch family movies, or look at your friends parents and wonder ‘why are they so nice?’ or ‘how come they rarely argue?’
That is when you started realizing this behavior is not normal.
But once you and JJ started dating, things started to change; your displays of affection began to get stronger and more obvious.
He showed you how to love.
Your dreams, your kisses, your hearts, and your love for each other were all shared by the two of you.
You and JJ both know every last detail about one another. You were able to wipe away every tear that came from JJ's memories with kisses since you were aware of JJ's father and his early years. This may be why you two matched so well.
However, your family? You preferred not to bring it up. Naturally, your partner was aware of the awful ways in which your parents treated you, but you would never go into detail because doing so would trigger unpleasant memories.
That is until one sleepless night you couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“Jay” you whispered through your tears trying to wake him up out of his sleep.
“Baby?” He rubbed his eyes and seen the tears pouring down your face “Baby no, come here.” He said with a pout and pulled you in.
“JJ I had a dream about my parents and it brought back everything, and my mom was telling me about how I didn’t deserve you and-”
JJ then placed a soft kiss on your lips to calm you down.
“Calm down baby, i’m right here for you. I’ll be here all night. It was just a dream, i’m forever yours I promise.” He says in a soothing voice while rubbing your back hoping it’ll calm you even a little bit.
Since your mother called you on the phone two days earlier, he was aware that something was wrong. You’ve have been so silent since that phone call, he was skeptical about what was said, but he decided to not push it unless you were ready to tell him.
After a few minutes of crying and back rubs you’ve finally chilled out enough to tell him what was going on.
“When my mother called me two days ago, I thought it would be good and we could just catch up. I thought she'd be happy of me for where I've gone in life, but all she did was yell and tell me how she wishes I were different. I've been having dreams ever since, and I can't handle it any more.” At the end of your sentence, your voice begins to tremble, indicating another sob.
JJ immediately notices this and pulls you in tighter.
“Baby, please don’t ever believe those words. I fell in love with you for who you are, your the most beautiful girl I have ever met. Everything about you is perfect to me, the way you giggle, the way you snore, and even when you upset me I can’t find a single flaw about you.” He says with his hands on both sides of your cheeks.
“I don’t deserve to be loved by someone like you.” you whisper
“Don’t even say that.” JJ says in a serious tone with tears starting to form in his eyes. “I wouldn’t even be able to think without you, much less live without you.”
The look in his eyes was very serious. You were his oxygen, he never wanted to hear something like that from you. Without you, he wouldn't be able to breathe.
JJ finally broke the built up tension and pressed your lips together. Minutes upon minutes of the need to be closer to eachother.
You depended the kiss and pushed JJ back so you were on top of him.
“Jay” you said staring into his eyes while unbuttoning his pants.
He softly pushed you off and buttoned his pants back up. “Not tonight baby, I want to show you my love in a different way.” he breathed out
“Okay.” you said while he laid down and pushed you against him.
That night all you guys did was share little pecks, talk about stupid things, and hold onto eachother tight.
This was it, this is what you’ve been searching for since you were 7. This is what your parents swore would never happen to you, This is true unconditional love.
“I love you J”
“I love you more.”
-
‘I can't be who you
want me to be if who that is isn't who I am.
To love me is to accept me.’
- Baggage Reclaim
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ceneid · 2 months
Note
hii!! can i request headcanons for a lyney x reader (gn or fem is preferred!) maybe just headcanons for, like, what he would do for you on a daily basis? just a mix of fluffy fluff fluff? i feel like his love language would be a mix of everything tbh. feel free to take your time!! no rush :>
HIII NONNIE !! and yes yes, of course ! i apologize for the delay, but it’s finally released from my drafts -
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pairing : lyney x gn! reader
synopsis : lyney, your ever wonderful lover, loves you to bits. so what would he do for you on a daily basis ?
proofread : ⨯
cw : just fluffy fluff fluff, as requested !
author’s notes : actually kinda proud of this one - either ways, hope you enjoy the read, nonnie ! and this was actually a good warm up for that request my lovely wifey sent lmao - anygays, enjoy ! also, I apologize if it’s somewhat short
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LYNEY would definitely, first and foremost, give you a dessert every day. no matter whether it's because you accomplished something, you made him fall for you even more ( if that was even possible at this point ), or you just being you and being there for him, he'll buy you your favorite dessert every day. you can't convince me otherwise. man loves you and wants to show it to you! you better accept it before you're having to deal with a sad and clingy lyney for the rest of the day lmao
LYNEY would also be the typa guy to be fine with PDA. he's a big fan of this one. like, you two will be holding hands as you take a relaxing stroll through the streets of fontaine, he'll give you side hugs while you two are out getting street food - you name it, it'll be on this list.
LYNEY would show you every magic trick that he and lynette practices beforehand - he wants to know your honest opinion on it! that is, if the trick isn’t a surprise for you, of course.
LYNEY would take you out on silly little dates whenever he has the time to! like, if he was feeling particularly happy after a show of his, spectacular as always, he’ll take you out to café lucerne to buy the both of y’all something to snack on and to chat your ear off about his happiness. if you feel like shutting him up, just kiss him. don’t worry, he’s only going to jump up and down in happiness.
LYNEY would, as soon as he knows what it is, give you your favorite flower every day! he wants to see you happy; if you decide to keep them all in a vase, he’ll be even happier. the flower’s not local to fontaine? not to worry! he’ll order it through romaritime harbor’s daily ships that come to the dock. just a quick chat with the sailors, a handful of mora, and boom - your beloved flower is there the very next day, still fresh, too.
LYNEY would give you kissies everywhere - he loves you, and much like two of the previous ones, he wants to show you a tiny bit of just how much he loves you. even if it can’t cover every little bit of how much he adores you, he supposes it’ll have to do until he finds something that can. or, at least, it can try to.
LYNEY will get you a vip ticket to every one of his shows. front row, free popcorn - the whole package. hey, it’s his show, and you’re his treasure - just you being there will pay for it. no need to worry!
LYNEY loves you, and will show it in many ways just how much he’s mesmerized by you &lt;3
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© ceneid 2024. please do not steal, repost or translate.
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