#but they showed the angels moving and I hate it I hate it I hate it
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Hey angel!! hope ur doing well!!
i was wondering if I could request roommate!marauders where they have crushes on reader buttt she already has a bf but he's just a total jerk.... and u sorta get the idea?? (if u haven't done one like this already)
much love!!! <3333
Thank you for requesting lovely <3
cw: douchebag boyfriend, marauders fancy reader but don't genuinely want her to cheat or end her relationship for them
(poly)roommate!marauders x fem!reader ⥠1.1k words
Itâs heartbreaking how lovely you look first thing in the morning. Sweet, rumpled pajamas, plodding gait, sunlight stretching over features still soft with sleep. You raise your hand to cover a yawn as you enter the kitchen, eyelashes still drooping like theyâve weights sewn into them.Â
âMorning,â you say on the tail end.Â
âMorning.â James opens one arm to you. You step into the hug automatically, and he drops a kiss to your head, his own private indulgence. Youâre eyeing the omelet heâs frying up with his other hand. âWant one?âÂ
âMm, wish I could,â your voice is a somnolent mumble, âbut Daleâs taking me to breakfast in a bit.âÂ
James tries not to react, but his hold on you stiffens some. From the living room, he hears Sirius scoff. âOh.âÂ
âIâm sure your omelet would be better.â You pat his side, moving out from under his arm to go to the coffee pot. âWeâre going to this cafe he likes, and they never have anything I want. Still, I can hardly show up full.âÂ
James feels himself frown. Typical of your boyfriend to take you somewhere you donât even like. Perhaps heâs a tad biased, but James thinks you should eat one of his omelets and show up full just to teach him a lesson.Â
He plates up the one heâs just finished. You tail him into the living room as he delivers it to Sirius, curling your feet up underneath you on the couch. Remus is sitting in the armchair reading the paper. He and James have already had their breakfasts, but you and Sirius are always the last up on weekends.
âAre you finished with the funnies?â you ask Remus.Â
He looks up at you with a tenderness James doesnât know how you canât see. âYeah,â he says, shaking out a page. âHere.âÂ
Sirius snickers at your choice of reading material as you reach across him for it. You nudge his thigh with your knee. âBite me.âÂ
âAnywhere youâd like me to, babe.â He winks.Â
You roll your eyes and fold the page to read, well used to Siriusâ flirting. Similarly to how heâd done with Remus, Siriusâ ill-advised tactic for winning you over involves alternating between taunting you relentlessly and acting like his affection for you is all one big joke. It only barely worked on RemusâJamesâ interference had been required there, and that was before heâd admitted to himself his own feelings for either of the two boysâso James doesnât understand why Sirius would give it another go with you.Â
âOh.â Remus closes his paper, seeming to remember something. âI was wondering if you might have time to go with me to the farmerâs market this morning. Weâre out of eggs, but I canât haggle with the woman like you do.âÂ
You give him a sorry sort of smile. âI would, but Daleâs meant to pick me up at ten.â
âOh, well.â Sirius rolls his eyes, chewing malignantly on a bite of omelet. âIf Dale said heâll be here at ten, then surely thatâs whatâs happening.âÂ
You bump his thigh again good naturedly. âBe nice.âÂ
James bites his tongue, and even Remus reopens his newspaper with a tad more vigor than necessary. Sirius is by far the most vocal with you about your boyfriendâs flaws, but your roommates all hate him. The guyâs a prick. James would never in a million years try to convince you to leave your partner for themâand despite Siriusâ joking, he knows neither of the other boys would want that eitherâbut if you broke up with Dale, he would be very tempted to throw a party.Â
James really doesnât understand how someone like you could end up with someone so holistically unpleasant as your boyfriend. Heâs rude, inconsiderate, he doesnât express any gratitude for the sweet things you do for him, and he is never where he says heâs going to be when he says heâs going to be there. He shows so little regard for anyone but himself. If he told you he was going to pick you up at ten in the morning, heâs just as likely to arrive at three in the afternoon. Even for your half-hearted defense of him, itâs nearly ten and youâve made no move to change out of your pajamas or get ready, because you know he wonât be here on time. It irks your roommates to no end to see you tolerate such poor treatment.Â
âMaybe you can go with Remus to the farmerâs market,â you tell Sirius. âYou seem like you could negotiate.âÂ
âSirius doesnât know how much eggs are supposed to cost,â Remus says idly.Â
âOi!â Sirius objects through a mouthful of omelet. âI do so.âÂ
James smiles at him. âReally. How much do you think eggs cost, love?âÂ
Sirius manages to take another bite while James is asking, so his mouth is conveniently too full to answer.Â
âI can manage it on my own,â Remus says with indulgent fondness. âDove, do me one favor, though?âÂ
You lift your coffee. âSure.âÂ
âDonât let him summon you outside with his horn again.âÂ
Thereâs a brief but thick silence while you finish swallowing your coffee and all three boys try not to look too obviously judgmental (Sirius trying the least, naturally). The purse of your lips reveals some embarrassment.Â
Still, your voice comes out unconcerned. âItâs not a big deal to me. Itâs not like weâre in school and I need him to come to the door and meet my parents. Itâs a time saver.âÂ
âItâs rude,â says Remus gently. âYou deserve someone who will come to the door for you.âÂ
Jamesâ thoughts exactly.Â
âSure you donât want some toast or something while you wait?â James asks, partly to dispel the tension and partly because he really does think you should eat something if Dale isnât likely to be here until the afternoon. âYou could call it an appetizer.âÂ
You stand with your emptied coffee mug, passing an affectionate hand over Jamesâ hair as you move between his legs and the coffee table. âThanks,â you say genuinely, âbut Iâm alright. Iâm going to go get ready.âÂ
However eager James is to avoid the tension that comes from insulting (or, really, just speaking frankly about) your boyfriend, Sirius has no such concerns. âWhile weâre telling Dale things,â he says after you, âbe sure to remind him that our flat has a three-strike roommate tears policy. Next time you come home crying, Jamie and I get to make a house call.âÂ
Your laughter echoes down the hallway. âSure, Iâll let him know.âÂ
Sirius looks at James, perplexed. âDid I sound like I was joking? I was not using my joking voice.âÂ
James pats his leg consolingly.
#roommate!marauders#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders#poly marauders#poly marauders x reader#poly!marauders x fem!reader#poly!marauders x you#poly!marauders x y/n#poly!marauders x self insert#poly!marauders fanfiction#poly!marauders fanfic#poly!marauders fic#poly!marauders fluff#poly!marauders imagine#poly!marauders scenario#poly!marauders drabble#poly!marauders blurb#poly!marauders one shot#poly!marauders oneshot#james potter#james potter x reader#sirius black#sirius black x reader#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders#marauders x reader
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Oooo headcannonâsâŠIf possible can we get Ace with a reader whoâs fire resistant due to a devil fruit?
Hello!!! I love love love receiving your asks! i'm so sorry this took so long, i finished writing it at the start of november but it got deleted when i went to post itđ
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He is a silly goose at heart, and if you're his friend, you'll need to be ready for a few pranks once he finds out about your fire-resistance. For example, setting you ablaze when meeting strangers because their reactions are priceless, or annoying you with little fire-punches that have flames licking at your cheeks when sat next to each other at dinner (his fist never actually came in contact with your skinâ he's not that stupid), or anything else he can come up with.
Also, expect a lot of testing. Like, constantly bothering you and begging you to be a guinea pig for the new move he's been wanting to try, or seeing how hot he can make his flames by slowly trying to burn your palm, things like that. Of course he'd be careful if you were unsure of it, but he would trust you enough to be 100% confident that you'd be fine if you told him that there was no way he could burn you.
If he had a crush on you though, he's a little bit more careful. Yes, he knows that you won't get burned no matter what, but with the added complexity of having feelings for you, he doesn't really want to risk anything. That doesn't mean he won't show off though, because trust me, he loves to do that.
He'll create firework shows just for you, or come up with excuses to use his powers whenever he canâ including warming you up by making himself a human bonfire.
Now, if you're his lover, the whole game changes.
If you were a badass, cool, tough kinda babe, he has little issue with creating small flames in the palm of his hand and letting you play around with them, but that's about where he draws the line before he gets too worried. If you were the sweet, kind, shy type however, I don't think he'd be able to bring his flames anywhere near your skin.
He'd be WAYYYYY too paranoid to set his sweetheart on fireâ what if he burned you?? What if your devil fruit powers worked differently then you thought???? WHAT IF YOU HATED HIM AFTERWARDS????
"Ace, come on, stop being a party pooper!" You whine, wanting to test out your abilities. And what better way to do so then with your fire-fist boyfriend? "Babydoll, I'm not gonna set you on fire..." He murmured uneasily, as if the thought made his skin crawl. "Fun haterđ" "Love you too, angel-face!đ"
For afab readers, he most definitely works as your full-time heating pad when you're on your period.
It wasn't even your ideaâ he just asked Marco how to ease your cramps (tearfully, might I add, mans was terrified for you), and he just about jumped with joy when he found out that heat makes it better, skipping back to your cabin to fulfill his God-given duty, which was cradling you like a baby to his chest and heating your back and stomach.
NSFW HEADCANONS BELOW! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!
While on the topic of periods, hear me out: heated period sex.
My man loves him so good period sex, especially if you let him act as an internal heating pad by warming his cock. He'll keep his large hand on your stomach to feel the bulge of his cock and heat up his palm to ease your cramps, whispering sweet praises into your ears while he keeps himself to the hilt, letting you adjust to his large size while he himself tried not to cry out in bliss.
Mess? What mess? You think the Fire Fist Ace is afraid of some blood? Honey, we have towels for a reason, don't even worry about it.
100% into temperature play, but again, only uses real fire if you're the tougher type or you beg. Though you'll never forget that one time he teased your nipples with a flame on the tip of his tongue...
In summery: Ace is a complicated guy, so your personality and role definitely change his opinions a lot (sorry if the way i'm writing it is annoying tho).
#one piece#one piece x reader#portgas d ace#portgas ace x reader#portgas ace x you#portgas d ace x reader#portgas d ace fluff#portgas d ace x you#portgas d ace x y/n#portgas d. ace x reader#portgas d. ace#ace x reader#ace x you#headcanon#ace headcanons
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nancy got a massive star anise in that turkish coffee blend an iraqi man had brought her from a trip abroad â thatâs fine, she doesnât mind strong flavors and she likes the shape. baâathist baghdad in the â70s would still be their meeting spot.
âwould you believe christmas is one of my favorite holidays?â
she takes a sip. it tastes sharp ended like stars.
âactually the way iâve been acting, i wouldnât believe it either.â
and this is a godless season.
( cw: sad )
tim recompenses by making a gingerbread man walk over her hand. he has dark chocolate buttons and a royal icing smile. he looks a little stupid, but pleased. nancy squishes a cheek in her hand and wonders what the little cookieâs secret is.
âyou have the opposite of seasonal affective disorder,â she comments while tim whistles the vince guaraldi trio, âyou have seasonal disaffective disorder.â
ââplease eat me, itâs all i live for. itâs all i fucking live for.ââ tim moves the cookie around.
she clicks her tongue: âat least he says it out loud.â
âi always actually felt like christmas kinda made up for the bleak 0 for 8 nature of chanukah,â tim answers, âso this part of the seasonâs like a reward in and of itself.â
nancy thinks and then snaps off the gingerbread manâs stupid head.
âsorry for shitting all over your pageantry then.â
âiâve seen bigger shits.â
she separates the eyes and the smile between perfected teeth.
âitâs not your fault,â he mumbles, âeveryone gets that this is kinda a bullshit time for you.â
âwell,â she frowns, âiâm not really so sentimental.â
âannie.â
she swallows and turns her head to watch the plush snow falling outside. the cottony sound of the fat drops hitting the window fills her mouth with cold sponge cake. her brow pulls, as sheâs tried to swallow that too.
âokay,â she begrudgingly admits, âso iâm a little sentimental.â
âand youâre taking this feeling out of place thing a little personally.â
âthatâs the most personal feeling you couldâve described.â
âtrust me,â tim pops both arms in his mouth, âi know.â
the gingerbread manâs down to a torso and legs, his chocolate buttoned suit delineated with icing.
nancy sips her espresso and lays both hands flat on the table, dark button eyes boring into the wood. when the sheer force of her gaze leaves no exit wounds, she softens up and feels embarrasingly weepy in the throat.
âi canât really blame anyone,â she admits quietly, âitâs totally all my fault. thatâs neutral, i think, it is what it is . . . â
tim hands her the left leg. she thanks him and takes it in her slim hand.
âeverything kinda slows down in winter anyway,â tim explains, âitâs just too quiet a season for you.â
âand for you?â
âare you kidding? i get free reign when itâs quiet like this- i go ice skating and everything.â
nancy huffs, humored. then she looks at him, and something in his eyes is sheer crystal truth. she angles her head.
âno way.â
âi actually do.â
âare you good?â
âiâm alright.â
âshut the hell up,â she shakes her head, âi hate when you do that. it means youâre actually dead good.â
âyou know everyone was happy that you showed. donât feel bad about psyching them out a little.â
thereâs a star on top of the christmas tree. she thinks about the angel that used to top hers.
âif we had a pool for every time we werenât sure if someone was showing,â tim leans back, âdickâd make the top spot every year.â
they got a fresh tree every year. and thereâs a new family in that house. the angel topper?
âyou can take your time. wouldnât even matter if we split- youâd still get an invite for next year.â
sheâs not totally sure where it went off to.
âhey, donât cry-â
âiâm not,â she blinked, surprised by the accusation, âiâm not.â
then she touched beneath her eyes and realized she was.
she explained briefly that she got her dad a safe, soft balsa wood model plane and the truth was simply that he actually liked it, he was slightly excited, he loves planes. did she ever tell him that? no? oh, well, he loves planes and understands them in a way that feels bigger than what they are.
and the truth was simply that she loved him and understood him in a way that was bigger than his six feet and five inches.
both of them would prefer that the thing they love not hold them to it.
nancy and tim in his old room. she pushes the clutch ( removes her makeup ) and he pulls the choke ( unwinds her scarf from her neck ). she hates being weepy like this. she thinks itâs disgustingly indelicate and slightly rude of her considering the fanfare. she looks around at his walls and feels so much of him in the dark paint and the boyish bedspread. quintessential adolescent. blue and grey checkered and everything. he had a sony stereo right above it with headphones waiting for him to come back.
âwhat were you last listening to in here?â she asks.
tim presses the disc eject and scrutinizes the cd. âslowdive. souvlaki. banger album.â
âwhen was that?â
âdonât remember putting a cd in here recently,â he shrugs, âso i guess five years ago or so.â
she sits on the bedspread and the mattress catches her weight. from below, thereâs a muffled degree of cheerful noise. his curtains are open, and the white flurries around outside.
âi donât think i can get you out of here,â he wincingly admits, âstormâs getting too gnarly to drive in.â
âdo you know where alfred wouldâve taken my bags?â
âprobably just by the coats.â
âcan you bring them? i just want my sweater.â
he does. he watches her pull her clothes off and finds it slightly even more intimate to watch nancy put a sweater on.
âi turn into this big baby when iâm the littlest bit jetlagged,â she brushes it off, putting lotion on her peachy face after taking out her contacts, âi just get super ridiculous.â
âhave you tried puking? i just puke.â
âi like the efficiency in that. get it all out.â
âi move fast.â
âi actually really like your room,â nancy looks up at the ceiling, âitâs cute you put stars up there.â
he lay beside her, squinting: âforgot i did that. anyway youâre wrong and itâs actually metal. these are the constellations you see from apokolips â where darkseid lives. itâs in this dimension that you need a boom tube to get to.â
âoh my god,â nancy sighs, shutting her eyes, âyou had such a fucked up childhood.â
âmy bad.â
she touches his hand and he turns his palm up to make it easier. she was just curious, just wondering, but did he ever hold hands in this room like this? no. too many people and too little respect for closed doors and too much urgency. he was making moves without a home field advantage. a panicky adolescent bravery.
ânot to mention, my room wasnât ever really suitable for visitors.â
âit still isnât back at yours.â
âthen i guess there is no stopping sister nancy after all. iâm glad they made that song real.â
she laughs lightly, low and slow and dizzy. then she apologizes quietly for being a pain about everything. then she asks him to tell everyone that she really appreciates the invitation, but she canât hang. he will.
he says, âhey, before you go to sleep.â
tim has likely been eating his body weight in gingerbread all night, but she likes strong flavors and it feels sharp ended like stars. his hair crushed against her head and this was an unfamiliar, surprising custom that she blinked over. this closeness. this buoy knocking of skulls.
ânobody thinks thereâs a way youâre supposed to feel about anything, but iâll still leave out the part where you started crying.â
kissing would be easier. would at least give her something to do with her hands.
âthe patienceâs actually kinda annoying,â he admits, âgive it a few hours over breakfast and youâll be begging to get called out.â
yet as is historically true for her, the long way out is objectively the best way.
âyou think itâs a little stupid, right?â she asks hesitantly.
tim doesnât give her what she wants. he keeps his face the same.
âhow you feel doesnât have anything to do with whatâs stupid or not.â
âi know better.â
âhow you feel doesnât have anything to do with knowing shit either.â
âtim,â she shuts her bird egg eyes, âdo you remember what happened?â
âi remember what i think happened.â
âwell, i remember everything. i remember it all super clearly.â
â . . . i believe you.â
she opens her eyes.
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i know itâs just because control is my favorite video game BUT. to me, the bunker should be alive. a barely controlled, shifting mass of tunnels and doors and rooms that the Men of Letters found and chained down with the strongest magic they had at hand, tied lobotomized spirits to the halls to run and protect it and put cracks in the foundation to fill with their own blood so that âlegaciesâ were safe to traverse it.
#and most IMPORTANTLY. most importantly. is that it should hate sam and dean when they show up at first.#because it isnât. itâs not meant to *be* a bunker. not really. thatâs just the shape itâs been forced into.#but sam and dean are really legacies in blood only. what they want from the bunker is a home.#and maybe it can be that. if thatâs all they want.#i think every time they bring violence back within its walls it should react violently in turn#dean canât follow gadreel immediately and get sam because the bunker turns into a cage around him and wont let him out#and is that because it understands enough that it blames him? or because it has just felt death again. real death. not a momentary lapse#waved away by an angel. and it does not want to feel it again. so it will keep him trapped.#and eventually the old magic the MoL put in place drags it back into obedience and dean can move on but for a minute there. let him know#just how easily his new home can suffocate him.#spn#this is nothing lmao dont look at me
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Don't blink. Blink and you're dead. Don't turn your back. Don't look away. And don't blink. Good luck.
DOCTOR WHO 3.10 | Blink
#doctor who#dw gifs#doctor who gifs#doctor who blink#Sally Shipton: the ship that never sailed#I was watching the time of angels/flesh and stone the other day and it made me so fucking angry because they did the angels so fucking dirt#and like okay they're alright episodes but the one thing that really pisses me off is the way they show the angels moving#like...the beauty of Blink is that you never see the angels moving you just see that they have moved#and that means that as the viewer you also feel responsible for not blinking - it doesn't move when you're watching the screen#and it really brings you into the episode - it makes it feel so much more real#to the point where it terrified me as a kid - I'd spend the whole episode with my eyes wide open because I was terrified that if I blinked#the angels would win#and because I didn't blink they didn't win#and then we have flesh and stone and we see the angels move and it just...ugh it takes you out of it. Like. There are so many ways they#could have done it without showing the angels move - just focus on amy's face and have the grinding sounds of stone would be the easiest#but they showed the angels moving and I hate it I hate it I hate it#as context Blink and Smith and Jones were the only episodes of Doctor Who we had on DVD as a kid because they were given out with the Radio#Times or the Daily Mail or something back in the day when they'd send TV episodes out with the news papers#and I remember going to the news agent's after church on the weeks those were available and buying the news paper that week#little seven year old me unable to actually see over the counter#I can't remember why I didn't get the rest but I got those two#and because they were the only ones I had and this was in the days before iplayer (it was launched December 2007) and then because I didn't#have access to a computer to watch stuff online#I just watched those two episodes on repeat#and so they became my favourite episodes by default#but also Blink stands up to the test of time#life is short and you are hot#every single line is a banger and sally sparrow and billy shipton is the greatest ship that never shipped in the world fight me#my gifs
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Why do you hate Tess so much she hadnât done anything wrong
Sheâs annoying and I donât like the way she speaks to Shane đ€·đ»ââïž
Next question
#she was at peak annoying last season and I absolutely hated the way she spoke to Shane because it was so rude#I hated how sheâd make it known that she couldnât stand to be around Shane but she also wouldnât just quit working#at Danaâs because she liked to act like itâs impossible to find another bar tending job in the city of Los Angeles#I hated the way she was and still is very patronizing towards Shane#I think they have 0 chemistry and I need yâall to riddle me this: what do they really know about one another?#the show forced them together and then broke them up and then forced them back together to break them up again like can we be done now?#Shane said sheâs not happy with Tess letâs move on pleaseeee#anti shess#ask#the l Word#the l word gen q
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MADOKA - âIâm thinking Iâll order a beef udon bowl, since Sayaka-chan told me that they make those really good here. What about you, Homura-chan?â
CONSERVATION OF ENERGY - Food needs can be met with an expenditure of 1.23% of total magic. Proceed?
GRIEF SYNDROME [Trivial: Success] - MAGICAL GIRLS THAT IGNORE FOOD ARE OFTEN MORE PRONE TO GRIEF ACCUMULATION. MY ARMS WILL ALWAYS BE WAITING FOR YOU, HOMURA, BUT ITâS IMPORTANT TO BE HAPPY UNTIL THAT DAY. BESIDES, MADOKA WANTS TO EAT WITH YOU. DISAPPOINTING HER WILL FILL YOUR SOUL GEM WITH A HALF A GRIEF SEED WORTH OF DESPAIR.
TEA WITH MAMI-SAN [Legendary: Success] - Sayaka says the beef bowl is good? Maybe go for that. She knows Madokaâs tastes better than anyone â and if Madoka likes something, you will certainly like it too.
âI will have the same as you, Madoka.â
âIâm not feeling very hungry.â
[CALL AND RESPONSE - Medium 10] Come up with an order on your own
CALL AND RESPONSE - [Medium: Failure] - Youâve eaten here before, youâre pretty sure. Was it Loop 32⊠no, Loop 12..? No, wait, it was on the first Friday of Loop 68. No⊠thatâs not right. Youâve never eaten here before. In a stunning display of incompetence, you have taken Madoka on a date to a restaurant that you have never experienced before.
THE ANGEL - Itâs okay, Homura-chan! I donât mind if you havenât eaten here before. Remember what real me said, Sayaka thinks this place is good! And even if itâs not perfect, thatâs okay, just spending time with you makes me happy.
THE CRAVEN MASSES - Sayaka has raised her blade against Madoka 16 times before. You should leave this restaurant and kill her. It would only take-
FALLING SAND [Trivial: Success] - 1528 seconds on average.
CONSERVATION OF ENERGY - It can be cut down to 1243 seconds with an expenditure of 2.7% of total magic pool.
THE CRAVEN MASSES - Exactly. Do it in front of her family and make it bloody. Kyoko would likely try and stop you, but even she isnât immune to bullets. And if Mami comes for revenge, well, you know the exact words you could say that would destroy her, donât you?
THE ANGEL - A-Ah, I think thatâs a bit of an extreme reaction, Homura-chan!
HUMAN SHELL - Your heart rate is increasing. Stop that. You have absolute control over your flesh. Act like it.
MOE INSTINCT - AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH WHAT ARE WE GOING TO ORDER MADOKA IS GOING TO LAUGH AT US
WITCHâS NIGHT - Is⊠is this a trap? Walpurgis may be defeated, but you know that the stage witch never truly ceases its show. Perhaps this restaurant is a part of the stage?
MADOKA - âUm, are you okay, Homura-chan?â
MOE INSTINCT - OH GOD SHE HATES US
âIâm going to kill myself.â
âIâm so sorry. Would killing myself make you feel more comfortable?â
Isnât there anything else you can say?
YOU - Isnât there anything else you can say?
THE DEVIL - Come on, Homura. Itâs high time you do it. Really, this is just another in the long, long chain of failures that make up your life. The only way to fix it is to kill yourself.
CLOCKWORK PRECISION - Target: Located on right ring finger. Target is not moving. Chance to hit: High. Plan: Retrieve pistol. Aim pistol at ring. Pull trigger.
THE ANGEL - Oh my god, please do not do that!
"I am going to kill myself."
"I'm so sorry, I'll kill myself if it makes you feel better."
"I'm so sorry. Should I kill myself?"
There. There has to be better options than this.
YOU - There. There has to be better options than this.
MOE INSTINCT - I CANâT TAKE IT ANY MORE. THE ONLY RECOURSE IS IMMEDIATE SUICIDE. THATâS THE ONLY WAY MADOKA WILL LOVE YOU AGAIN.
"I am going to kill myself."
"I'm so sorry, I'll kill myself if it makes you feel better."
"I'm so sorry. Should I kill myself?"
YOU - âIâm going to kill myself.â
MADOKA - Madokaâs face twists, her eyebrows raising slightly in shock. Whatever response she was expecting, it was clearly not this.
GRIEF SYNDROME [Challenging: Success] - IF MADOKA WAS A MAGICAL GIRL, HER SOUL GEM WOULD FILL BY A QUARTER HEARING YOU SPEAK THOSE WORDS. THAT WAS CRUEL, HOMURA.
MOE INSTINCT - WHY DID YOU SAY THAT?
MADOKA - âIâm so sorry, Homura-chan. Please donât do that. I⊠I really care about you and so does everyone else.â Madokaâs eyes fill with tears as she speaks. She hugs you.
DAMAGED MORALE -4
CALL AND RESPONSE [Trivial: Success] - Quick, tell her you were making an edgy joke that didnât land. Youâve gotten away with that before, youâre pretty sure.
SPACE-TIME MASSACRE - Twelve quarter shifts left and two up from your current space-time position, and thereâs a Japan that itâs actually illegal to not commit suicide in.
FALLING SAND - Youâve been seated for 5 minutes and 32.5 seconds already and still have not ordered. Mami has requested your presence at her apartment in 3.4 hours from now.
TEA WITH MAMI-SAN - She wants to help you find a hobby. Sheâs really worried about you, you know.
STRINGS OF FATE - You can feel Madokaâs heart beat in sync with yours as she holds you. Everything will be alright, as long as you follow the beat.
THE ANGEL - Yeah! Itâs okay Homura-chan. Just explain whatâs been going on and Madoka will understand. And then order something, itâs important to eat a full meal!
YOU - âAh, sorry Madoka. I was⊠overwhelmed with choice, and my⊠brain spit out the first thing it thought. I am not planning on killing myself.â
MADOKA - âUm, I think we should probably talk about this more, Homura-chanâŠ.â
CALL AND RESPONSE - Ask her a question to change the topic. Itâs worked in three different loops, it should work here.
RATIONALITY COMPLEX [Trival: Success] - Ask her if she wants to try anything else and then order that for yourself. This will accomplish your goal of deciding on what to order, as well as showing Madoka that her desires are important to you.
YOU - âIs there anything else youâd like to try, Madoka? We can share our dishes.â
MADOKA - âUh, okay Homura-chan. Maybe get some tempura?â
Order 10000 yen worth of tempura
Order 1000 yen worth of tempura
Order 100 yen worth of tempura
YOU - âExcuse me waiter, give me 10000 yen worth of tempura.â
HUMAN SHELL - Calories and magic are just two different types of fuel. Feed me and control me.
THE ANGEL - T-thatâs probably too much, Homura-chan. Maybe you can sneak some into your cool shield, though!
MADOKA - Madoka doesnât say anything, but her eyes do bulge out slightly. She gives you a gentle pat on the shoulder and smiles at you.
HEALED MORALE +1
RATIONALITY COMPLEX - Displays of wealth like this can broadcast value to potential mates. This will increase your value in Madokaâs eyes, furthering along one of your goals.
THE ANGEL - I think you should just focus on enjoying the food, Homura-chan. Take a break, everything is okay.
Thank you.
Why donât you hate me?
YOU - Why donât you hate me?
THE ANGEL - Because I care about you, Homura-chan! And besides, you hate yourself far too much already.
Thank you.
THE ANGEL - Youâre welcome! Now, please, enjoy your meal with real Madoka. She loves you a lot too, you know.
#disco elysium#pmmm#madoka magica#yellowed pages#this took an unfortunate amount of my day dhdhdh wrote most of this in between running to do pointless chores
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so i know who i'm looking at! a sukuna ryomen oneshot
pairing âžș ghostface!sukuna x reader
summary âžș on halloween night, you get a strange phone call from a man with a distorted voice right as you're chilling while babysitting yuuji. you get an ultimatum: perform for him, or risk your and yuuji's lives.
warnings âžș smut, fluff (at the end), pre established consent but dub con just in case, cream pie, lots of degradation and praise, âgood girl,â oral sex (m!recieving), recording and pictures, suggested infidelity (but itâs not actually infidelity), exhibitionism, reader gives him a show in exchange for her life, rough sex, semi-public sex, established relationship, mdni, pls help me find artist for credit :(
next. week two
kinktober masterlist | general masterlist
you stretch, yawning as you adjust the blanket you had on you to cover you and give you warmth on the chilly october evening. gazing forlornly at the balcony window outside, you see kids and college students alike in their halloween costumes visiting homes for treats and bars for booze, respectively. tonight was a night you were supposed to get dicked down by your boyfriend in the bathroom of a frat, but youâre stuck instead with a last minute call to babysit yuji because heâs sick.Â
you love the kid too much, like heâs your own baby. which is why you couldnât refuse playing babysitter, even if that meant forgoing pictures for your instagram with the slutty angel costume you had bought a month who in anticipation of halloweekend. instead, youâre tucked in and cozy, watching scream for the nth time just to fangirl over how hot ghostface is.Â
so youâre in your tank top and boy shorts, relaxing and chilling (that is, as much as you can while locked in on your movie). and, as if on cue, the moment the phone rings in the movie, the itadori householdâs phone number gets a call.
you jump at the noise, a bit on edge because of the movie and definitely regretting the idea of setting the living room pitch back in spirit of mood lighting. groaning (albeit a bit freaked out), you get up to answer the call, as yuji babysitting protocol required that you answer any call in case it may be an emergency. Â
picking upâbut a bit on edgeâyou drone, âitadori household, how can i help you?â
thereâs heavy breathing on the other end and you hate your scaredy cat tendencies because your heart is picking up at the distorted and low pants. âhâhello?â
âhey.â the voice is low, just like the breathing, and for a moment, you hate your brain for immediately recalling the nsfw audios you watch to masturbate because the guy on the phone sounds exactly like them. itâs a little freaky that youâre getting such a weird fuckin call at this time, but regardless you persist, in case this was relevant. you kind of need this job.
feigning cheerfulness, you ask, "what can i get ya?" as your fingers absently toy with the thin strap of your tank top. the cool air from the nearby vent sends a shiver across your skin, but the silence on the other end of the line is more unnerving. you're met with nothing but heavy breathing, and each exhale seems to scrape against your eardrums.
shifting uncomfortably, you feel the sweat beading at the nape of your neck as impatience builds. your fingers tighten around the receiver. "are you gonna talk or should i hang up?" you finally snap, agitation bleeding into your voice.
but before you can slam the phone down, he speaks.
âwhatâs your favorite scary movie?â
a groan escapes you, the kind that rises from deep in your chest, exasperation overtaking any lingering nervousness. "look, buddy, this is soooo corny. like, i was literally just watching scream, so youâre not doing shit. if you wanna prank call a girl, try somewhere else becauseâ"
âyou got a boyfriend?â
âi do,â you quip back quickly, a hand on your hip as you stand straighter, eyes flicking to the doorway of the kitchen. shadows dance in the dim light, your heartbeat subtly picking up pace. you move to hang up the phone, more irritated than frightened now. âso you better not try anything funny and waste more of your time, you fuââ
âbut heâs not sleeping upstairs with the kid?â
the world freezes. you pause, the phone hovering mid-air. what did he just say? your pulse quickens, each thud louder than the last as dread claws at your chest. "what?"
a laugh, deep and guttural, slithers through the receiver. itâs the kind of laugh that makes your stomach drop and your legs feel weak. his voice is smooth, velvety even, and it curls around your ear like smoke. despite the creeping fear, something primal makes your thighs clench involuntarily. âokay, now that iâve finally got your attention, letâs try this again. whatâs your name, baby?â
that wordâbabyâthe way he drags it out, rich and slow, makes your heart stutter, even as fear wraps tighter around your ribs. you grip the edge of the counter, nails digging into the cool surface. âwhy do you wanna know?â
âso i know who iâm looking at.â
the room spins. your breath falters, shallow, barely there. itâs like the walls are closing in, and your throat feels thick with fear. you lick your dry lips, throat tightening painfully. âwhaâwhat do you mean?â
a soft coo hums through the phone, mockingly sweet. âno need to be afraid, pretty baby. you donât want the kid upstairs to die, do you?â
your blood turns to ice. the words donât make sense at first, but when they do, it feels like the floorâs been yanked out from beneath you. your mind races, every nerve in your body screaming. âwhat the fuck? is this some kind of prank call? this isnât funny.â
but the man just continues, as if he didnât just say something so horrifying that your stomach churns. his voice remains steady, eerily calm. âthe kid, how old is he? five, six? heâs dozinâ off in those stupid iron man pjâs of his.â you swear you can hear his smile through the phone, a wicked curl of satisfaction. âand i love those shorts on you. parading your ass around like the slut you are. howâd your boyfriend leave you alone tonight?â
the walls feel like theyâre closing in. a cold sweat breaks out across your skin, and suddenly the room feels too small. your eyes dart toward the darkened stairs. every creak of the house becomes louder, sharper. the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end as you swallow, mouth dry as cotton. it feels like someone is watchingâsomeone who shouldnât be there.
for a second, you digest the information heâd bestowed upon youâinformation about yourself. not-so-subtly freaking out, you get out a âplease, please donât do this.âÂ
 âthen gimme a show. follow what i say.â
âoâokay. what do you want me to do?â youâre trembling, your realize, in your fear. or was it arousal?
âcome closer to the window,â the voice purrs. you tentatively walk up to the balcony window facing the itadori garden, awaiting instructions as you stand shivering with the chill of the air.
ânow,â the voice instructs, âtake your top off. gimme a show, alright? better see that fucking back arch when youâre talking it off like filthy stripper slut you are.â
you whimper in humiliation but follow his instructions anyways, slowly becoming more and more of a slave to your arousal, caused by his assured and suave voice. when you take your tank top off, back arched just like he asked, the man groans and you hear distant squelches on the other side of the line.
âgood girl. now when you take that bra off, pull up your cups, but donât take it off, leave it bunched. those tits better bounce for me.â pulling up the cups of your bra, your tits recoil and bounce and the squelching gets even louder as you feel eyes rove over your tits. âfuck, i love those tits. get on your knees and bounce em for me like youâre riding cock.âÂ
you clench so hard as you move to do as he says. part of you is soooo aroused to be forced around like this, so youâre easily giving him the show that he wants, getting on your knees and moving your chest so that they start rhythmically bouncing, synced up with the squelches you hear in the other side of the phone.
âstick your tongue out. drool on your tits.â you moan, your tongue lolling out as a glob of spit starts trailing down your body.
 âfuck!â he exclaims, aroused by the sight. âyou like being bossed around this baby? like my little bitch?â
âno!â you sob, tears springing out at the utter humiliation you were experiencing. âplease let me go, please donât do anything to yuji!âÂ
the voice chuckles. âreally? i think youâre lying, baby. i know that pussy is wet while youâre giving me a show. matter of fact, why donât you show me? make sure i get a really good look at that cunt, okay?â
slipping your shorts off, you turn so that your backside is facing the lawn and uncover your traitorous pussyâglistening wetâto him. taking a few steps back, you breathe heavilyâlike the person on the other side of the phoneâas you press your pussy against the glass, the heat and humidity originating from your inner walls fogging the area on the glass. you hear a snap! on the other side, indicated that he had taken a photo. eyes widening in panic, you ask, âwhat are you doing? please, iâm doing whatever you waââ
âi canât let everyone think youâre some innocent virgin, can i? parading your ass and pussy for me, when anyone in the neighborhood can see? matter of fact,â and you start panicking at his next words, âiâll post this online if you donât grind that ass back for me.â
you swallow and start to do as he says. the glass is cool as you rub your folds along it, your slick dirtying the glass as you move your folds on the glass door. of course, the glide isnât smoothâyour clit keeps catching on the glass, but the fact that youâre bare to the world, any stray eyes being able to see you on display arouses you to no extent. youâre ashamed of being aroused at having to perform for a stranger, but you continue regardless and clutch the phone in your hand as he speaks to you again.
âthe fuck you so wet for?â the voice mocks you. âyou get off on this shit?â
âfuck you,â you moan, continuing to rub yourself. âi hate you.âÂ
the man laughs meanly. âfor someone you hate, youâre getting pretty wet for me, baby.â the sounds of him stroking his dick are even louder as you grind against the door at the same tempo that he moves his hand at, grunting as you continue moaning into the mic. âlook at how youâre clenchingâgood girl. want me to come in and make you cum?â
âreal fucking cocky,â you hiss into the phone, âreally fuckin cocky of you to think you can make me cum. with the way you had to threaten me, i just know you have a micro.â
as soon as you say that, the call hangs up and you look at your screen in confusion. that is, until you feel hands on your bare hips, kneesâcovered in black fabricâpressing against the junction between your thighs. âsay that again,â the voice whispers.
you turn, eyes wide and heart speeding up as you turn to see the very figure that showed up in your movie. reminiscent of the killer, a tall man in a mask is hunched over you, now moving his hands to grip at your hands. âletâs take this to the bed, shall we?â
âoh shit,â ghostface curses, continuously snapping photos of your lips, the flash going off in the dark room. âlook at this,â and he brings the camera closer and closer to your pussy, using his other hand to spread your lips as you helplessly lie on the bed, forced to spread your legs for him. âthis pussy clenches everytime the flash goes off!â and heâs laughing, mocking you as slick leaves your hole in drops as the utter way youâre being humiliated. he grabs your cheeks roughly with the hand that was spreading your nether regions, squeezing them together and focusing the camera on your face. âthis is the slut iâm going to fuck. gonna suck my cock, right?â
âmhm,â you whimper, resigned to your fate. making quick work of his robe, he takes them off completely, still leaving his mask in place. as he uncovers his pelvis, your eyes immediately rove over the hardened muscles on his abdomen. thereâs a pink happy trail leading down to his dick, which is furiously red and standing. he grabs it, pumping the length as he moves closer and closer to your face until his precum is smearing against your face.
 âfuck,â he curses, as he takes in the sight of your teary eyes looking up at him dumbly, lips puckered as he slaps his cock against your cheeks until your cheeks are turning red. youâre giving kitten licks to his tip every time he alternates between slapping your two cheeks, not knowing what do to with yourself except focus on your oral fixation telling you instinctively to suck his cock. he then uses his fingers to pull your mouth open and slowly feeds his cock inside, eyes rolling back as soon as he feels your warm breath and hot tongue encompass him.Â
youâre sucking at his tip and alternating between licking the rest of his dick, and heâs lost in the tight, wet heat of your mouth hollowing around him. you then prop yourself on your knees, using your hands to grab and play with his balls, stimulating him even more and causing him to rip out of your mouth and growls, âon your hands and knees. now.â
he doesnât give you sufficient time to turn around and fully adjust in your position as heâs slamming into your roughly, the wet plush of your pussy too enticing. because you didnât see it coming, your face is smushed against the pillow, and he grabs at your hands, using his free hand to hold them together at the small of your back.Â
âyou like my cock, baby?â he pants, sweat beginning to run down his torso. when you donât respond, he lets go of your hands to smack you consecutive times on your ass. âanswer me.â
âi love it sooo much,â you babble, too lost in the pleasure to form more coherent thoughts as you ramble. âitâs splitting meâoh my god.â your eyes roll backâin pain or pleasure, you canât decideâas his cock kisses your cervix. the masked man keeps thrusting in you, the sounds of his hips smacking into yours echoing throughout your room in a series of plap plap plapâs.Â
âyea? fuck, iâm so close. you wanna live baby?â he grabs your hair and pulls, giving you a sloppy wet kiss on your cheek. âlet me come inside. youâll let me dump my cum in you, right?â
you only clenched tighter at his words. âplease,â you sobbed. âplease come inside. please paint my walls. i want your cum so bad.âÂ
you were so close, staving off your orgasm until he filled you up. at your words, the intruder laughed mockingly and kept thrusting into you, but the telltale sloppiness of his hips indicated that he was close. âgod, what a slutââ he was interrupted by his own climax, and as soon as the thick ropes of cum filled you, you came with a squeal, your back arching impossibly further as your thrashed on his dick because of the intensity of your orgasm. both of you rid it together, panting as you came down.Â
he pulls out of you, and before you can catch your breath, the man flops his entire weight on top of you, making you laugh as you let out a startled exclamation, âryo!â
you squirm beneath him, trying to push him off, but itâs futile. heâs far too big and heavy, and he knows it. with a low, lazy chuckle, your boyfriend, sukuna ryomen, removes his maskâtossing it carelessly onto the floorâbefore nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. his breath is warm against your skin, and you can feel the heat radiating off him as his chest rises and falls in rhythm with your own.
âdid you enjoy that stupid thing you wanted, brat?â he mumbles, slightly panting in exhaustion.
his words are snarky, but you can hear the affection laced beneath them. your heart swells with a sudden rush of warmth, the fondness you feel for him almost overwhelming. itâs moments like thisâwhere he does something ridiculous just because you asked, despite all his grumblingâthat remind you why you love him so much.
you wrap your arms around his broad back, fingers trailing lazily up and down his spine as you press a soft kiss to the top of his head. âyou didnât have to go all out, you know,â you whisper, smiling into his hair. âbut i really appreciate it. youâre kind of the best, even when you pretend youâre not.â
ryomen grunts, but thereâs no bite to it. he tightens his hold around you, his large frame practically cocooning you in warmth. you feel his lips brush softly against the skin of your neck, a tender gesture that contrasts with his usual roughness.
âyeah, well... youâre lucky i love you, freak,â he murmurs, voice low and husky. despite his usual bravado, thereâs something undeniably soft in the way he says it, as if the words are meant just for you.
you hum contentedly, feeling the weight of his body press you into the mattress. itâs comforting, like being wrapped in a warm blanket. you trace circles on his back with your fingertips, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment, where itâs just you and himâno roleplay, no teasingâjust the quiet aftermath of love.
âlucky, huh?â you tease back softly. âiâd say weâre both pretty lucky.â
ryomen huffs a quiet laugh against your skin before lifting his head slightly to look at you, his dark eyes soft in the dim light. then, he gets up and makes a move to walk out the door. at first, you thought he was heading towards the bathroom door to give you a towel to clean you up, but heâs heading towards the doorâsoft cock swinging, butt nakedâand youâre only left in confusion as to what heâs doing.
âryo, where are you going?â
âfixin myself a sandwich, iâm hungry,â he grumbles over his shoulder, leaving you dumbfounded. youâre left sitting on the bed as he continues the trek down the stairs to satiate his post sex hungries.Â
âhey!â you shriek, âyour balls are out! what if yuji sees?âÂ
later, when yuji walks deliriously into the kitchen to see his uncleâs cock and balls, he almost wishes he could fully succumb to his fever.
next. week two
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a/n hehe i love fluffy sukuna. consider joining my kinktober taglist if you'd like!
taglist:
@sugoroo @ryutotsukai0824 @sharkubi @lisvanrouge @mxlktae
@samisfunky @achbbys000 @xd3pr3ss3dx @jottositto
#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna smut#sukuna fanfiction#ryomen sukuna smut#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk fanfiction#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x you#ryomen smut#ryomen sukuna x you#aashi writes#divider by cafekitsune#jjk x you#jjk x reader smut#jjk kinktober#kinktober 2024
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KARMA !
â brat taming the jjk men feat. choso kamo, kento nanami, toji fushiguro.
WARNINGS. femdom!reader, f!reader (she/her), brat taming, cock slaps, crying, handjob, choking, p in v, riding, overstim, lingerie, lollll slotted toji out :33, recording, finger sucking. ( 2k ) note. hellloooooo hope u all enjoy this. i had fun writing bc i loveee the idea of making big strong men crumble mhmhmhm. anywaysss reblogs are appreciated thank youuu love u all. repost bc last night it didnât show in the tags đ but i edited it and added alottt so if you already saw it feel free to read again !! ty
ᯠᥣđ© CHOSO KAMO
âmaâ make mâ ooohh fuck. waiâwaitâ his voice trembled so cutely that it was barely coherent, crumbling into a pretty whine that drowns out his pathetic attempt (if you could even call it that) at being a defiant little brat, making you giggle, your slicked up thumbs pushing and rubbing down on the slit of his leaky tip, sending jolts of pain masked as pleasure up his bony spine, âmake you?â
immediately he knows heâs fucked up. the air between you growing thick.
he didnât know what came over him, really. maybe he had been watching too much porn, fantasizing too much, because the idea of getting tamed by youâ god, just the thought of getting put in his place, turned him on so much. so, so much.
but having to actually disobey you, he couldnât. he believes he was only put on this earth to serve you and please you. to be good. his head hurriedly shakes side to side, making each strand of ravened silky hair jump and dance before resting to frame his flushed face, ââm sorry didnât meââ
you land a heavy, hard slap to his cock, the sound pounding in his flushed ears blending with the beat of his heart, making his body tense up and jerk underneath you. his breaths come out in ragged little gasps, each one such a struggle as his fuzzy brain short circuits under your warm palms.
it really is cute, you think. cute how easy it is to break him. the pretty tears that drip down his puffed-up, blushed cheeks remind you of that. heâs choking on his sobs when you move to cup his face and kiss the corners of his eyes, and his cheeks. crying and sniffling because he hates when youâre mad. hates disappointing you.
ââm sorry, i donâtâ just wanna be so good for you. iâll beâ wanna be your good boy.â
âi know,â you coo, petting him like the pretty pet he is, âwanna try again for me, hm?â
and oh, heâs nodding so sweetly, cock throbbing for you, his big glassy eyes heart-shaped, staring up. so ready to be yours, ready to be the good boy youâve trained him to be.
so you tell him again, âfuck my fists, make yourself cum, pretty boy. and look me in my eyes.â
his hips buck up, the salty tears on his cheeks warming and dried as he uses your sticky hands like a fleshlight, whining prettily when you tighten your grip around him, ââm sorryâ he babbles over and over, drooling out the corners of his parted puffy lips.
heâs so good. staring into the blown pupils of your pretty eyes without fault, like you told him to. because you told him to.
and his thighs burn, his legs shaking and trembling against the silky sheets as he gets closer and closer. the pain almost urging him on, âare you gonna cum for me? baby? gonna give it all to me hm?â
âyes, pleâ please. please, can i cum canââ
you pull your hands off him.
drawing out the prettiest whine to ever be heard. like a song of the angels. his head falling back against the wooden headboard, hips bucking up in search of something to ease the ache that overwhelms in his tummy. those hot tears making a special reappearance.
âaww baby,â you hum, feigning sympathy, massaging his warmâ full, heavy balls, âdid you really think youâd get to cum after that, hm? did you?â
his eyes widen in desperation, disappointment. he tries to speak, to plead, to beg, but all that comes out are broken little sobs and whimpers.
the look on his face is almost pitiful. furrowed brows, pout, and his mouth hangs open.
you bend to lean in closer, your breath so warm against the shell of his sensitive ear, âyou have to earn it, baby. good boys get rewarded. brats get punished.â
for you, he nods weakly, his voice barely a whisper as he chokes, âiâll be so good, proâ promise. please, let me cum. let me show you how good i amâ
so pretty. your fingers slip down to massage his aching balls, applying just enough pressure to keep him on that edge he loves to dangle over without giving him the sweet, sweet release he craves. ânuh uh, not yet,â you hum softly, your tone both firm but oh so gentle. âshow me how much you want it.â
his hips buck up involuntarily, humping the air in search of your gripâ relief, eyes locking onto yours, colored irises filled with adoration. heâs completely at your mercy, every nerve and ending in his body on fire, every muscle tensed up in anticipation.
and you can see the struggle in his eyes. itâs really a beautiful sight, and you savor every moment of it. âthatâs it,â mumuring, âkeep looking at me like that. show me how much you need it.â
his breaths come in short little, ragged gasps, his chest heaving and caving, thighs burning from fucking the air.
but finally, after what feels like an eternity, you decide to grant him some mercy, your hands moving back around his throbbing cock, stroking him just how he likes it, âcum for me, pretty boy,â you command, a soft, seductive purr. âgive it all to me.â
with a strangled, gargled cry, he obeys. his body convulsing, every muscle tightening as he finally, finally finds his release, his cum spilling all over your hands in thick, hot, sticky spurts. and heâs so obedient, his eyes remaining locked on yours, even as his vision blurs and fuzes with pleasure.
âthere you go,â you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. âsuch a good boy.â
ᯠᥣđ© KENTO NANAMI
the tie that usually wrapped snug around the collar of nanamiâs shirt adding that signature pop of yellow to his suits now decorates his flushed neck, constricting it, the tail of it clutched tightly in your fists as you ride his cock, your hips rolling and jerking against him relentlessly.
thick cum drips down to his balls, pooling underneath him, a swirl of your mess and his. heâs cum twoâno, four? he doesnât even know how many loads heâs stuffed into your warm cuntâ or how many youâve forced and sucked out of him, his cock so sensitive it fucking hurts, every time you snap back down on him sending poky jolts of overstimulation through his entire body.
âfuâfuck, honey, please. i donât haveâ nghâ donât have anything left to give. fuckinâ drained me alreadyâ canâtââ
you tug on the silky fabric, making him choke on his words, gargling on warm, foamy spit. his hands reaching to grab at the curve of your waist, but heâs flinching, remembering how you said, no touching. remembering why heâs in the position in the first place.
because he doesnât listen.
refused to keep his hands to himself, your body begging to be touched, in his words. as if he didnât take you seriously, just kept grabbing at you, digging his slim fingers into your plush skin.
so, obviously, thereâs some sort of misunderstanding .. some sort of disconnect. he must have forgotten who was in charge.
you donât even give him a response, ignoring the prickly burn in your thighs to fuck him dumb. maybe then, ironically, heâll learn how to act. each jerk of your hips move to push him further to the edge, to remind him of his place.
his body is weak, just sitting pretty, twitchy, letting you do as you please, sweetly hiccuping under your frame, âhahâ please, my fucking god iâ iâm sorryâ heâs all gone and sucked up, cock crying, drooling pathetic tears of salty cum in your cruel walls. sweat peppering his forehead, slicking the ridges of his chest, making him glisten.
âplease, iâm fucking begging iâllâ hah, wonât disobey you again. iâllâ iâll be good. iâll be yoursâ
aw, there it is.
and you hum, stilling your hips, letting his cock fill you all the way up, âmhm thatâs all i needed to hear. now give me onee more load. just one. know you can do it pretty boy, give it to meâ
even though his body is spent, just the true definition of exhaustion, he responds, his pretty cock twitching inside you as he drags against his own warm cum in your spongy walls. and it doesnât take long before heâs giving into you. balls so empty, just a few little spurts drooling out, but it feels just as intense, maybe even more than any of his other orgasms. âgood boyâ
ᯠᥣđ© TOJI FUSHIGURO
âtojâ my pretty boyâ your finger draws across the pink lacy lingerie that does a pathetic job of covering his cock. poking out, leaking and drooling all over the fabric, almost ripping through it with just how hard he is, âyou look so good like thisâ
he grunts, blush growing across his cheeks, a deep, deep crimson, turning his head to avoid your gaze, avoid your phone brightly flashing, recording him.
âso hard too, awâ mumuring, you move closer, recording every detail of how he bulges through the set you so perfectly picked out for him. the pink complementing his tanned skin so well, truly a work of art âtouch yourself for meâ
another grunt escapes his lips, and heâs fidgeting, dragging his balls against the bed, rutting like a fucking dog, pulling at the ropes that hold and confine him, caging him against himself, âneed your ..â
âyeah, need what?â you prompt with a smile, watching through your screen how he struggles to say it, pouting as his brows furrow up.
âneed your helpâ
theres a wicked little glint in your eyes, pulling back at the stretchy band of the pretty underwear, letting go so it snaps back against the sensitive underside of his thick cock, making him whine, his broad body shaking and twitching, muscles clenching up.
humming, you bring your palm to his face, telling him to lick, and he listens, immediately.
licking a long stripe up your warm palm, but oh, he gets carried away. stretching to wrap his scarred lips around your fingers, bobbing his head up and down, drool dripping down from around his pursed lips, letting his tongue lay flat. âlook at you, so eagerâ
he comes off with a pop, smirking because he knows you love when heâs so good like this for you.
you press your slick fingers against his covered perky nipples, watching as he twitched, before moving to stoke him through the pretty lingerie, âdonât fuâfucking teaseâ
you ignore him, let him get away with the little back talk because he just looks toooo cute, eyes all big, looking up into the flash of the camera, leaking through the lingerie like such a pretty boy. all for you.
you flick your wrist faster, leaning to spit on his clothed cock, sending thousands of shivers up the nerves on his spine, making him croon, his ass raising up off the bed to buck into your palms, giving the camera such a good show.
âgonna cum, shitâ iâm so close. fuckâ pleaseâ
heâs babbling, his voice all high and whiney.
âmhm go ahead, babyâ
with a final, desperate thrust, heâs shooting against the fabric, babbling your name as it oozes through making a sticky little mess before youâre leaning down to lap at his clad tip. to clean him up.
then you come off him, stopping the video. and tojis looking up at you through glassy eyes as you press against your phone, smiling.
âwhatâ hah, what are you doingâ
âsending it to shiuâ
#á°.á â soâs diary#choso smut#nanami smut#toji smut#choso x reader#nanami x reader#toji x reader#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#choso x you#nanami x you#toji x you#sub choso#sub toji#sub nanami#sub!choso x reader#sub!nanami x reader#sub!toji x reader
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âiâm sorry babyâ simon murmurs against your warm skin, large hand coming up to palm your breast under the material of your shirt as he watches you squirm under his hold, fingers kneading your nipple.
âyou hurt me, siâŠâ you whine, doe eyes looking at him as you sniffle. âi hate youâ
he hums with a nod, peeling your shirt off just enough to expose your naked chest. âi know baby, i know.. was a dick to you, yeah?â
you donât answer, covering your face with your hands as he continues to pepper kisses down to your stomach. your quiet sobs make simonâs heart breaks.
âfucking assholeâ
that almost makes him laugh, but he doesnât. only smiles. âi wasâ
âa bastard you areâ
he kisses your clothed cunt. âi agree.â
you shudder at the contact, whining. âcareful. i just waxed there. Iâm a little sensitive.â
he groans. he swears youâre doing that on purpose. âi will sweetheart.â
his fingers move to pull your laced panties down, ever so slowly. his hunger increases the moment his brown eyes settled on your pretty wet pussy.
âchristâ he breathes out. âgonna make it up to you, pretty girl. i promise.â he sits up on his knees, looking down at you. glossy eyes looking up at him with a small pout formed on your lips. his cock growing hard under his briefs
ïżœïżœfuck, donât look at me like thatâ he thinks to himself
puffing out a scoff, you reply âdoesnât mean Iâll forgive you for this siâ
he knows. he hurt you. his pretty girl. he made you cry and thatâs something he would never forgive himself too. that fight was stupid, he knows that now.
âi know, sweetheartâ he pulls the waistband of his boxers slightly, just enough to take his hard cock out before hovering your body. a small gasp escapes your lips when his the tip of his shaft make a brief contact against your cunt. âi didnât mean to make you cry. was a proper dick. hurting my baby like that, yeah? what kind of a man am i.â
he gives a soft kiss on your lips in which you hum, eyes fluttering shut. he wraps his hand around his cock, pumping it a few times before guiding it to your wet entrance while putting his other palm beside your head to support his weight.
you bite down your lower lip trying to suppress a moan when he slides the tip up and down your cunt. mumbling a low âfuckâ at the slicky sound of your wet cunt. another loud groan rumbles off his chest when his cock slips in. simon stays still for a while before he sits up straight, hooking his hands underneath your knees, telling you to wrap your legs around his waist.
âgonna fuck you real good, maâ the term of endearment almost makes you cum. as he begins to rock his hips back and forth. he watches you arch your back, soft hands gripping around your tits with pretty moans falling off your lips like an angelic prayer. he growls at the perfect sight, making him thrust even faster.
âshow you how sorry i amâ
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Third Wheel
Dark!SatoSugu x reader
(Warnings: Yandere, dark content, dark, misogynistic language, delusional behavior, kidnapping, blood, violence, +ShokoHime x reader, choking (not in the sexy way tho), threesomes, oral!F!recieving)
Synopsis: Regardless of what Satoru and Suguru tell you, you've always felt left out in this relationship. But when you leave, you quickly find out there's no line your ex-lovers won't cross to get you back
Word Count: 7.3k
When you come home that night, they're already cuddled together, watching TV.Â
It's cute. Your boyfriends were always so loose with their affection. When Suguru was cooking, Satoru would lean on his back, more than happy to talk his ear off. Suguru would hold Satoru's waist, steadying him, being his anchor. At night, you'd catch them reaching for each other, trying to hold hands even in their sleep.Â
It's clear to even the blind: they are soulmates.Â
And you were just extra baggage.Â
You don't know how you caught their eyes, but this past year was fun. They've been sweet, both of them have. Inviting you into their lives, into their home, into their bed. Everything moved so fast, but you didn't mind. You were young and a bit spontaneous. Two beautiful men showing a glimpse of interest in you wasn't something you could pass up. This was nice, while it lasted.Â
But unlike them, you aren't forever. Their bond would never come close to anything they could have with you.Â
It took a while for you to accept that, but eventually, you did.Â
"Hey, babe," Satoru calls. "Rough day?" He lazily waves you over. Suguru grunts, before shifting over to make space.Â
Despite it all, you're a coward. You don't announce it; you just stare at them. Fondly. Yes, this was nice. You don't think you could handle telling them, though; that would be too much. Seeing how little they cared would break you.Â
"Yeah." You give. "Rough day."Â
You weave through the house. It's theirs. Not yours. That they've made clear. You're an afterthought. It's the little things. Their toothbrushes are together, yours on the other side of the sink. Their shoes were neatly stacked side by side, and yours were always tucked away in a corner. Left out. Forgotten. Why wouldn't it be like that? They've been together for years. You were still an outsider.Â
You only have a little to grab. You just grab your extra clothes, the hair clips you have a terrible habit of leaving around. Just a few items. And then the bedroom looks like you'd never been there at all.Â
When you come back out, they don't notice your suitcase. Satoru laughs loudly at something happening on screen. Suguru chides him sternly. Good. It's better this way, you think as you take your suitcase to your car. You don't need any additional heartbreak.Â
You make a few more rounds, collecting everything you need. Suguru only catches you when you are about to leave their house forever.Â
"Angel?" He calls. "Where are you going?"Â
He's looking at you, head tilted in mild curiosity. You manage to smile, looking down at your car keys.Â
"Out for a drive." You shrug. "I'll be back."Â
Suguru takes it at face value. He lets you go with a small 'have fun'. The walk to the car is heavy. Metal dumbbells on your shoulders.Â
When you get in the seat, you finally allow yourself to sob.Â
~
I'm sorry, I just can't do this anymore
That's how you ended the wall of text before blocking them. It was the coward's way out.Â
"No." Utahime's quick to tell you. "It's the only way. Those bastards would've never let you go otherwise."Â
You shouldn't be so quick to listen to her, considering she hates them both. Still, she was more than happy to offer you her home while you picked yourself back up, and started looking for an apartment. You'll humor her for the time being.Â
"She's right," Shoko pipes up. Her dark circles are even more prominent tonight. You guiltily think it has more to do with you than with her patients, but she and Utahime have insisted that you stay with them.Â
"It was for my sake, more than theirs." You say honestly, tucking yourself into the couch. "They...don't care about me. At least, not like they do each other."Â
Utahime rolls her eyes. "You are blind." She says. "Those two were obsessed with you. I'm just glad you got out while you could."Â
You laugh, but it beats crying all over again. Utahime doesn't find what she said as funny. She chides you again, something about being oblivious before she settles down to watch the movie she put on. Shoko falls asleep right at the intermission. Her head falls against your shoulder. Utahime leans against you too. And it's nice to have friends to fill the void they left.Â
~
Satoru appears first.Â
You woke up later than you would have liked. Your eyes are itchy and red from crying all night. Utahime was more than happy to give you her guestroom, but you know you can't take advantage of her kindness for too long. Tomorrow, you'll start apartment hunting.Â
Today, you'd sit on the couch and eat ice cream.Â
When you go downstairs, you hear a hushed whisper. Utahime's by the door, using her body to keep someone out. She looks angry.Â
"-No one's here but me. Now get the fuck off my property." She seethes.Â
You recognize his voice. You aren't ready. "Have you heard anything? Anything at all?"Â
"No." Utahime gripes. "So go, Gojo-"Â
He catches your eyes. Your heart gets stuck in your throat.Â
He's taller than her. It takes little to no effort to barrel through her body, easily shoving her aside to get to you. You flinch, his touch burns when he grabs you, pulling you into his arms.Â
"Oh, baby." He sighs into your hair. "There you are. Missed you."Â
It's too soon. You aren't ready. You can still feel the emotions bubble up from that night, when you collapsed in Utahime's arms, sobbing your heart out. This wasn't fair. They never made it fair.Â
You cast a glance at Utahime. She was scowling, close to boiling right over the edge. It gives you enough strength to try to push Gojo off, but he only lets go, when he wants to.Â
"Okay." He smiles, reaching down to grab your hand. "C'mon. Let's go home. You had us both so worried for a sec, but if we explain everything to Suguru it'll be okay."Â
You find your voice then. As well as your strength. His grip on your hand isn't all that tight. It slips away when you gently shake him off. Satoru stops, confused.Â
"Satoru..." You start. "Didn't you get my text?"Â
He rolls his shoulders, agitated. "Yeah, but-but it doesn't matter."Â
There it was. His lovable personality. Casual careless, nonchalance. For once, you aren't annoyed by it. Maybe your grief made you numb to it.Â
"I did mean it," you say as plainly as you can, "every word."Â
He freezes. You smile at Utahime.Â
"Could you give us some time?" You ask.Â
She frowns, but she's never been able to say no to you.Â
"Ten minutes." She finally says, before she's marching back to the kitchen. You still hear her muttering while leading Satoru back to your room.Â
"I'm sorry." He says when the door shuts behind him.Â
"For what?"Â
He runs a hand through his hair, taking off those glasses he loves so much. You can't look him in the eyes for too long. It brings up too many memories.Â
"I fucked up, right?" He says, he sounds desperate. You've never heard him sound like this before. "I'm sorry. I dunno what I did, but I'm sorry."Â
You shrug, picking at the lint of your sleeves. "You didn't do anything. I just...it felt like a good point to just-"Â
"-Leave us?" He cuts in. "Come home, baby. I'm so sorry, just come home and we'll figure this out." You look away because you can feel the tears burn up.Â
"You didn't do anything." You insist, but your voice is weaker.Â
"Was it Suguru? Did he do some bullshit?" Satoru interrogates. "What'd he do? I'll kick his ass, I promise." You hide your smile underneath your sleeves.Â
"He didn't do anything either," you assure, "neither of you did."Â
He's getting more and more desperate. "Then why did you leave us? What's wrong with us? Why can't we go home and talk this out? Please come back, baby; home doesn't feel like home without you."Â
Isn't this what you wanted? A confession. Evidence that they wanted you just as much as they wanted each other. Satoru certainly did. Suguru did, too, considering how hurt Satoru implied him to be. A week ago, you might have been over the moon, too wallowed in self-pity to do anything but agree, run back into their arms, and willingly sink back into 2nd place all over again.Â
But the thought of going back to their home makes you feel sick.Â
"I can't." You decide. "I just can't. It's over, Satoru."Â
I'm sorry. You keep that last line to yourself because you're too scared to crack in front of him. Shatter. Splinter.Â
Satoru doesn't share the same sentiment. You hear movement, and when you look up, he's crying.Â
A part of you wants to hug him, but you hold yourself back because he isn't yours anymore, and maybe he never was. Still, it hurts seeing him like this. The piece of you that still wanted him is ready to forgive and forget. Your vindictiveness keeps it at bay.Â
"That's not fucking fair." He's saying through his tears, even when he's crying, he's beautiful, "You-you can't just ditch us like this. You don't get it; we can't live without you. It's killing us; you're killing us, baby." He staggers forward, in a way that makes you afraid he might fall. In the end, he just collapses on the bed. Eventually, you take a seat next to him.Â
He's looking around, you catch him eyeing the pile of clothes in the laundry basket. The hair ties on top of the drawer. The plushies on the bed. You think it might finally be starting to sink that that you're truly gone.Â
"Suguru can't sleep these days, y'know that?" He starts, a sardonic laugh in his throat. "He pretends to, but he can't. He stays up all night just wishing you'd come home. The guy is miserable without you, and you can't even gimme a fucking answer."Â
His voice cuts you just the way it's supposed to. You wince, feeling his words slice into his skin, finding their way into your heart. You look at his shoes for a moment. He didn't bother to remove them. Maybe that's another reason why Utahime was so pissed.Â
"I was starting to feel like an afterthought with you two." You speak. "I mean, it makes sense, you two were together, first. I thought the barrier would just take time to go away....but then it didn't."Â
How many times has Suguru taken Satoru's hand over yours? How many times has Satoru forgotten your drink but not Suguru's? How many inside jokes you didn't understand? You always felt petty for being jealous over the tiniest things, but those tiny things kept getting bigger and bigger until it felt like they'd been purposely building that barrier themselves.
You were sick of feeling like the third wheel in your relationship.Â
"Baby..." Satoru's voice is tinged in guilt and you can't look at him because you can feel the tears start to well up. "I-I didn't realize." He grabs your hand.Â
"Come home." He pleads. "We'll fix it, I promise. We'll be better. We'll do better."Â
You shake your head, slipping away from his grip.Â
"It's too late." Your voice is shaky. Please let him not notice. Please, please, please for once can his oblivious about everything but his one and only work in your favor? "You can't fix anything, Satoru. Not now."Â
"You haven't even given us a chance to-"Â
"You should go." You stand up. Satoru follows you out the door. Utahime's already outside. She catches your eyes and nods.Â
"Gojo." She speaks, tone clipped. "Get the fuck out of my house."Â
He stills, frozen like the prettiest painting in the world. His eyes turn to ice as he stares at her. Utahime doesn't budge. If anything, she advances, pulling you close, acting like a human barrier between you and your ex-boyfriend. You take it immediately, nestling into her side, taking refuge from his icy stare.Â
There's silence. You only relax when you hear his footsteps fade and the door slams ricochets into the apartment. And that's when you break down into Utahime's arms completely, letting her coo you into comfort.Â
"Maybe I am being overdramatic," you say when Shoko comes back later that day. Utahime was enraged since Satoru left, pacing around the apartment. It's only after both you and Shoko coaxed her back into the couch that she calms down enough to take a seat next to you.Â
"Maybe this whole thing is ridiculous. I-I should just go back and-"
"No." Shoko is immediately saying voice firm. "Absolutely Not."Â
You can smell the hint of smoke when she came back from the hospital. You try not to assume it's because of you.Â
"No way in hell are we letting you go back there after what he did." Utahime gripes.Â
"He didn't do anything." You argue. "I swear, I-I was just...being pathetic."Â
Warm hands lift your head up. You struggle, still shuddering from your sobs as Utahime forces you to look at her.Â
Her eyes are brown. Not as glittery as Satoru's, who's eyes shine like the burning sun itself. Not like Suguru, with his celestial purple. No, hers are just brown.Â
You didn't realize how beautiful brown eyes could be. Not just the color of home; the color of chocolate; the color of brownies. The way the light cast down at them made them deep and dark, like a night sky. If you looked closer, you could see tiny stars swimming around.Â
"Listen. Are you listening?" When you nod, her voice softens. She tucks your hair behind your ear.Â
"You deserve better." She insists. "You deserve better than them. So so much better. I know you can't see it right now, but there is better out there waiting for you." Her voice loses all momentum all at once. "Just...trust me, okay?"Â
Her desperation to be heard makes you smile a bit. You nod. Her frown loosens, just the tiniest bit. She relaxes.Â
"Thanks," you say after a beat. "I...I needed that. I'm glad I have goods friends."Â
Utahime's hands drop from your face. She collapses into the couch cushions with a groan. Shoko laughs.Â
"Told you." Shoko says, mirth and alcohol on her tongue.Â
Utahime flips her off, and Shoko takes her place. She settles into your side.Â
"They were assholes." She tells you. "Forget about them. And she's right, you deserve better."Â
You were glad they were there for you, even when you weren't there for yourself. It felt nice that they cared. Vouched, Advocated for your comfort. They made better boyfriends than your old boyfriends ever did. Their support helped heal the Satoru and Suguru-sized holes left in your heart. Every day became a bit better.Â
When Suguru eventually turned up, you were a bit more prepared.Â
He's a bit nicer than Satoru was. He actually knocks, instead of relentlessly pounding on the door. He doesn't barrel through Shoko when he spots you cowering behind her. His face betrays nothing. He's still. A polite smile is stretched on his lips. Shoko isn't happy about letting him into her home, but when she glances at you, you nod. You needed to do this. You needed closure.Â
And so did Suguru.Â
You don't speak to him until you're shut in your room. Geto cuts the silence first.Â
"How have you been?" He asks nicely.Â
"Good." You respond. "You?"Â
"Good."Â
Conversation stilts. You don't know what to say. Luckily, your ex is never the man who stays silent for long.Â
"How's living with Shoko and Utahime been?" He asks, "I'm surprised you've put up with them for this long. They were pretty scary in high school."Â
"I bet you two were scarier." You counter.Â
He smiles. It's soft, looks good on him. You find yourself smiling back. When you take a seat on the the of the bed, he doesn't follow. You don't know whether to feel glad or not.Â
"Yeah, I'm not the proudest of those times." He admits with a sheepish laugh.Â
It dies down, and you know the artificial barrier between you two has broken. You shift, waiting for the inevitable.Â
"Satoru told me what happened." He sighs. "I'm sorry, Angel. We-I didn't know how you felt. Everything was so perfect, I just thought you felt the same."Â
"It's fine." You assure, and this time, your throat doesn't clog up, and your eyes don't feel itchy. "Really. It's-it's fine."Â
"It's not." Suguru shakes his head. "You'd be in bed with us if it were."Â
That comment pricks something deep within your skin. You swallow, turning away from his piercing purple eyes. They were much like Satoru's. Breathtaking, you could stare at them for hours. You used to.Â
But now, you don't have that desire anymore.Â
And maybe now that you aren't so attached, maybe you could try being a little more honest.Â
"I was jealous." You finally admit. "I couldn't help it. I-I always felt like I was fighting within my relationship. You two were so much closer to each other than I was. Than I ever could be, honestly."Â
Suguru frowns, troubled.Â
"That's not true." He insists, soft, but something's burning underneath his tone. "Satoru and I have history, but that doesn't mean-"Â
"I was runner-up." You cut him off. "For both of you. Looking back, I'm not really upset. It was always impossible for anything to come between the two of you. This-" You gesture between you and him "-was always inevitable."Â
"It's my fault." You smile at him, hoping it comes across as sincere as you feel. "I couldn't stand being second place."Â
He moves then, kneeling in front of you. Eyes the widest you've ever seen them. He catches your hands in his. You let him. A parting gift.Â
"Angel." He starts. "We never once thought of you as that."Â
You shrug. "It doesn't matter." You reply. "It's how I always felt. You can't really change the way I feel about things, Suguru."Â
You think he's realizing that he's beginning to lose you. His grip gets tighter as if he can physically keep you with him at the very least. He shifts until he's right at your knees, looking up at you desperately.Â
"Come back." He insists, abandoning his persuasions. "Just...come back. At least for a little while? We can try again, can't we? Just give us a second chance?"Â
It's strange, they don't look too similar, but you can see the similarities. Wow, they're just perfect for each other, aren't they? Yin and Yang. Two halves; one whole.Â
You were always a leftover. You just had to learn that the hard way, through days of heartbreak, crying, and sobbing your heart out. It took you awhile to understand that the affection they had for each other is different from the affection they had for you.Â
You shake your head. His hands nearly crush yours.Â
"I love you."Â
It takes you a while to figure out what he said. When it does sink in, your world tilts. Your heart stops at his abrupt declaration and you must stare at him because why? At first, you think he's just desperate: lovebombing. And then you look into his eyes, his sincerity. No, he means it. It makes you feel worse.Â
"Satoru does, too, but you know him-he'd rather die than admit something like that." Suguru gives a bitter laugh, one you find familiar even after all this time. "I've always wanted to tell you but thought it was too soon. I thought we had all the time in the world." His voice tapers so he doesn't have to say the obvious but clearly you three didn't.Â
You want to reach over, tuck a stray lock behind his ear but you stop yourself because he isn't yours anymore. You gave it all away when you ran. Instead, you curl your hands around his in silent understanding.Â
You don't know how you didn't realize it before, but Suguru is less put together than usual. His hair is typically well-groomed and shiny, but now you see split ends. His eyes are clear and bright, but today...they aren't. A dull purple. Hazy violet.Â
He's miserable.Â
You did this. This was all you.Â
"Satoru misses you," he says, "always had. Barely smiles anymore. I don't think I can blame him."Â
They loved you. They love you. This was all what you wanted. Just a bit of recognition. There's a tiny part of you that's still itching to jump back in Suguru's arms, kiss him until you're out of breath 'just kidding! it was a prank! let's go home!'Â and then you two would leave hand-in-hand back to Satoru.Â
Going back to them would make them happy, but not you.
But Shoko was right. You deserved better.Â
 "It'll get better." You assure. "You'll heal."Â
Day by day, the cracks in your heart start to seal. Bit by bit. It may never heal over completely, but you know you'll be okay one day. And they'll be alright too. Who knows, maybe in a couple years, you'll all laugh at this.Â
Suguru shakes his head and stands up. His eyes are just the bit glassy, but he's blinking them away before anything gives. It's just like him, honestly, so you're not too upset.Â
"You don't get it." He's smiling, not quite in humor. "I don't think you'll ever do but..." He trails off, mid-thought.Â
"But what?" You press.Â
Then he sighs and closes his eyes. When he looks at you again, his signature pleasantly cold smile is on his face.Â
"I did all I could, I think." He turns around, abrupt. "I'll see myself out."Â
You're caught off-guard by his sudden departure, but by the time you're following him, Shoko's already leading him out the front door, locking it with exasperation.Â
"Is that it?" She asks. "They won't be barging in anytime soon, right?"Â
You stare out the window, watching as Suguru gets in his car. Something bubbled in your stomach.Â
~
It was one of those nights. Shoko had come back early. Utahime was back from the school. You had planned a cute little evening for the girls and a relaxing night in. You had everything: wine, freshly-prepared dinner, a cheesy horror movie, and an announcement you're sure they were more than happy to hear.
You had just settled down the blanket when you hear Shoko come through the door. You take off her coat before she can even touch it, excitedly flitting around her.Â
"What's gotten you in such a good mood?" Shoko asks, her dark circles even more profound than before. You don't have to feel guilty about those for long.Â
"You'll see!" You chirp back.Â
Utahime strolls out of the bathroom, fresh from the shower. Her hair is still wet. You'll ask if you can blow dry it later.Â
"That's what you've been saying for nearly an hour now." Utahime groans. "Just tell us already. Or at least, me."
"Patience." You chastise. "But, it's a good surprise, I promise."Â
She's not satisfied, but she sits down anyway. They eat dinner, complimenting your skills all the while. You preen at their praise. It's a stark contrast between Suguru and Satoru, how cold they'd often been whenever you did something nice for them: tilted smiles, less-than-receptive words of 'oh baby you didn't have to'.Â
As you lived with both couples, you can see the similarities. Utahime's temper is close to Satoru's, but that's where the similarities stop. She's more serious and less likely to blow off your feelings with a playful huff. Shoko and Suguru share the same laid-back personality, but Shoko is always there to listen to you instead of cutting you off with condescending sympathy.Â
Wow, maybe Satoru and Suguru were a little more shitty than you initially thought.Â
Eventually, the night draws to a close. They're drunk, full, and smiling. Perfect. You clear your throat just when Shoko refills her fourth glass.Â
"Again, I'd really like to thank you for letting me stay." You start. "It meant so much to me to have two amazing people to support me like this. So, thank you."Â
Utahime smiles. "Don't thank us," she says, "again, you can stay for as long as you want-forever, honestly!"Â
You nod. "Well, I don't think I have to do that anymore."Â
Shoko freezes mid-sip.Â
"What?" She asks.Â
"I talked to my parents." You tell them, oblivious to their stone faces. "And I'm going to move back in with them, just until I get back on my feet. Isn't that great? Now, you two won't have to-"Â
You stop when you finally notice how cold they look. Utahime looks close to tears.Â
"What's wrong?" You ask.Â
"You're leaving?" Utahime asks, her voice nearly cracks. "Why?"Â
That...wasn't what you were expecting. Shouldn't they be glad the third wheel is finally out of their house? Why does Utahime look so heartbroken? Why is Shoko so quiet? What was going on?
"Isn't-isn't this what you wanted?" You fumble with your words. "Now, you don't have to share the house with me anymore. It'll be just the two of you again."Â
They exchange glances, and it reminds you of those secret conversations Suguru and Satoru used to have. Except this time, you can read their faces.Â
"What if...we don't want it to be just the two of us anymore?" Shoko starts, hesitant, reproachful like she's approaching a scared wild animal.Â
Your eyebrows scrunch. "I don't understand."Â
At that, Utahime drops her head in her hands. "Oh, c'mon! We've been doing this for weeks! You can't be that oblivious-"Â
And then, she stops herself. Looks at you. You stare right back, and the three of you have the exact same realization at the exact same time.Â
"Oh." You breathe.Â
"Oh." Utahime whispers.Â
"We're all idiots." Shoko says behind her glass.Â
"Wait wait. Hold on." You backtrack. "You-you two want...with me?"Â
"Yes!" Utahime exclaims. "Yes! God, now everything makes sense. I thought you were just trying to let us down gently, but this whole time you just weren't even paying attention!"Â
"No." You argue, face hot. "You two were just really subtle."Â
"We all sleep in the same room, these days." Shoko lists. "'Hime sat on your lap with nothing on but a bra and panties."Â
"I thought we were just doing friend things!"Â
"What kinds of friends sit on your lap, half-naked?" Utahime asks, mortified.Â
"I-I-" You give up.Â
All this time. You were mourning over something you lost months ago, even when there was something blooming right under your nose. God, you're an idiot.Â
Hands. They clasp your own. You look up into Utahime's pretty brown eyes.Â
"We want you to stay." She whispers. "We want you." You take a glance at Shoko.Â
"Do you want us?"Â
You take a deep breath.Â
You nod.Â
She's smiling, and then Utahime's kissing you. Soft, so soft, nothing like the possessive kisses Satoru gives you. It's innocent and adoring and you find yourself melting into her completely.Â
Utahime disappears and before you can mourn her warmth, Shoko's lips join yours. You can smell the alcohol, the slightest sting of cigarettes. You don't mind it. Her kisses are nothing like Suguru's, all powerful and domineering. She takes what you give her, asking ever so nicely for more.Â
You break away, panting.Â
"You good?" She asks.Â
You nod.Â
"Good." Shoko hums. "Cuz we're gonna fuck you now."Â
"What?"Â
Shoko pushes you down on the couch. You land with an oomph before Utahime's descends on you with a flurry of kisses.Â
"Waited so long to do this, baby." She's sighing into your lips, fiddling with your shirt so she can pull it off. "Weeks and weeks."Â
She pulls down one of your bra cups, massaging at your tits. You hadn't had action in so long, so you eagerly encouraged her movements, kissing her back with just as much fervor. Shoko takes her place next to her girlfriend, pawing at your other tit.Â
"Look." Shoko purrs. "One for each of us." Her soft mouth sucks on your nipple, swirling it around her mouth. Your head leans back with a pleasant sigh.Â
"Feel good?" Utahime asks. "She's good with her tongue, isn't she?"Â
"Yes," you nod, and Utahime gives out a delighted giggle, peppering your face with kisses. You gasp when you feel her hand shift through your shorts, palming at your dripping pussy.Â
"Poor thing." Utahime's cooing, and there's a brief hint of mockery in her tone. You've never heard that before. It turns you on even more. "They never gave you attention back there did they?" She circles your clit. "They were too busy sucking each other's dicks to pay attention to such a pretty pussy."Â
Shoko pops off your tits, shifting down. She kisses her way to your stomach. You blearily watch as she adjusts herself until she's right at your shorts. Utahime follows her lead, tugging off your shorts. Your panties go next.Â
And then you're staring down at them with trepid anticipation.Â
"I meant what I said." Shoko says softly. "You deserve better. You deserve someone who cares for you."Â
"You deserve us." With that, She and Utahime latch onto your pussy.Â
They're everywhere. You have to stop yourself from cumming right then and there, arching your back as one of them sucks on your clit while the other licks into your hole. She manages to stick her tongue inside of you, and it's enough to shoot sparks through your eyes.Â
"So tight." Utahime's hissing into your cunt. "Sho, after this, you wanna try to fuck this pussy with your strap?"Â
There's a soft laugh, and Shoko pulls away from your clit to answer, much to your disappointment. You whine, thrusting your hips in the air. She stills you with a hush.Â
"I don't think we're ready just yet." She hums. "Yet."Â
When you glance down, they both are making out with your clit. It's debaucherous. Their soft lips are connected, your tiny bud locked in the middle as their spit trickles down into your pussy. Utahime groans and when you look further down, you realize she's touching herself.Â
You don't know which part of this makes you cum, but you cum. It's the hardest you've ever orgasmed. There's so much stimulation that your hips buck up, trying to chase the sparks of pleasure. They let you, licking you through your orgasm.Â
When you come down, your thighs fall apart, splayed against the soft cushions. Utahime still isn't finished, licking at your clit. You shudder at the overstimulation, whining until Shoko is pulling her off of you by her hair.Â
"Good, baby?" She asks, crawling back up to you. You kiss her as an answer. She melts in delight.Â
You break the kiss, glancing over at Utahime.Â
Taking the silent request, she kisses you again. You can taste yourself on her lips. You don't mind it. For some reason, it's sweeter on Utahime's tongue.Â
When she breaks away, she stares at you, face soft. "You're staying, right?" She asks you. "You'll stay with us? Because after this, I don't think we could ever let you go."Â
You give a shy nod, and Utahime beams.Â
"Then, you're ours now," Shoko says, settling into your side. "And we're yours. Always."Â
"Always." You breathe, content, happy. You could almost go to sleep.Â
Shoko slaps your thigh.Â
"Not yet." She warns before propping you up. "First, I want you to sit on my face."Â
Hours later, you wake up delightfully sore in bed. The two girls are curled up next to you. When you move, you can still feel the bruises Utahime left. You never knew she liked to bite so much.Â
You can't even begin to remember what happened, but you don't regret any of it. Hours and hours had passed as they fucked you and fucked each other, and you fucked them.Â
Shoko shifts beside you. She was always a light sleeper.Â
"Awake?" She asks.Â
"Yeah." You softly say back.Â
She hums, shifting a little more to face you. Utahime's behind you, arms protectively curled around your waist. At your voice, her eyes twitch.Â
"Shut up." She grumbles, but her arms cinch around your waist.Â
Shoko stretches as she rises up. You miss her body warmth but you don't mind the view she gives as she saunters over to the dresser, pulling on some clothes.Â
"I'm gonna get food."Â
Utahime mumbles out her order. You say nothing because you don't want to come in between them, and then Shoko looks at you.Â
"What do you want?" She prompts.Â
You blink, and when you answer, Shoko smiles, and then she's out the door.Â
The interaction makes your heart warm.Â
Still, it can't last.Â
When you go to get up, Utahime protests, grabbing your wrist.Â
"And where are you going?" She prods.Â
You fumble. "Back to my room?"Â
"What? Why?" Utahime demands with a frown. "What's the point, you're already with us, now."Â
"Oh." You blink, but you give in and slink back into bed. "Is...this really okay?"Â
"For God's sake, " she hisses, but you don't count it against her because Utahime has always been a little grumpy after waking up. "Yes. We're obsessed with you. How are you so blind?"Â
"We want you, and we're not like them." Her voice drops in disdain. "We'll treat you better. You're ours now. You're mine."Â
"Yours." You repeat, something warm fluttering in your belly.Â
"You can't leave, we'd go crazy, okay?" She seriously tells you. "If someone else takes you away, I'd lose it. And Shoko is okay with murder."Â
You laugh.Â
"That's not a joke." She warns.Â
"I know." And you kiss her again.Â
It's like that for a couple weeks. You live in peaceful domestic bliss with two wonderful girlfriends. Now that you're in an actual loving relationship, you can't tell why you ever contemplated ever going back to Satoru and Suguru. Shoko actually talked to you about your feelings. Utahime cared about your input. You weren't treated like an afterthought, second place.Â
They were with each other longer than they had been with you, but they never made you feel like you had to fight for your relationship. Speaking off Satoru and Suguru, they never once contacted you after their first two attempts. They'd clearly given up.Â
Everything was just perfect.Â
And then, it just wasn't.Â
You were in bed with them. Fifteen minutes ago, Utahime shuffled off to go to the bathroom. She still wasn't back. Half asleep, Shoko grumbled.Â
"She's probably in there fighting a cockroach." She complains, but she rises anyway. "Sleep, I'll be back." She kisses you on the cheek, and then she's gone.Â
Their body warmth fades, but they stay because they're tired. These days, you can't really sleep without them, so you wait for the girls to return. Two minutes pass. Then, five. Then, ten. By then, the bed is cold.Â
You open your eyes, sitting up. It's so quiet. Are they okay?Â
You pull off the comforter, stepping onto the cold wooden floor. The apartment feels strangely...haunted somehow. The air felt heavier now, thick with an invisible tension, like the house itself was holding its breath. It must be because you feel alone, you're sure of it.Â
The bedroom leads to a dark hallway. As you make your way down, you can hear something. Voices? Murmuring. The relief almost makes you laugh. Seriously, what were you even afraid about?Â
The living room is horrific.Â
They look dead. You can't tell if they're breathing or not. Shoko's eyes are closed. Utahime's limp body is sprawled across the floor. There's blood on the wooden panels.Â
Suguru doesn't even blink.Â
"You're awake." He says it so casually, like waking up to your ex-boyfriends mauling your girlfriends is normal.Â
"What..." Your voice fails, you weakly try again. "What did you two do?"Â
Satoru answers, smiling with glinty teeth.Â
"Isn't it obvious? We're getting rid of the competition."Â
You don't understand, your brain hasn't caught up yet, you still think you can talk to these psychos.Â
"It's their fault." Satoru's still smiling, but there's nothing happy about his tone. He's carrying a knife. There's blood on it. "It's all their fault. They manipulated you into breaking up with us, baby. That's how these useless sluts got you into their arms." He spits on Utahime's hair. You cover your face with your hands.Â
"But, it's not like you aren't at fault, Baby." He points the knife at you. "You left us for them. I'm not letting you off the hook for that."Â
You don't know what he's saying. His movements scare you, his eyes, the knife. When you glance at Suguru, you don't know what you're expecting.Â
But you know you aren't expecting...that.Â
His purple eyes are icy cold. Utterly devoid of any emotion. You don't think you're staring at a person, anymore.Â
"You lied," Suguru says, "You lied about us not giving you enough attention. You just wanted to leave us. For them."Â
You step back. They step forward.Â
Those bastards would've never let you go otherwise. Utahime warned you. Looking at her limp body, you wondered if she thought they'd ever go this far.Â
"I didn't." You weakly insist. "I-I wasn't lying about anything! It-it wasn't like I wanted to leave-"Â
"Stop lying," Gojo insists. "Stop fucking lying already."Â
He smiles again.Â
"It's okay, baby. I know you'll come back with us. Right after we're done dealing with these two whores."Â
"You'll belong to us." Suguru promises and he steps on Shoko's hands. "Just like always."
They were both crazy. Nothing could get through to them. Now, you would sit there and watch them maul the only things in your life that made you feel complete.Â
The worst part is that everything was your fault.Â
Shoko's pinky twitches. You can see Utahime take shallow breathes.
And you speak.Â
"I'm sorry."Â
Your weak voice makes them stop in their tracks. Satoru glances at you, Suguru does too. You can't convince them. The only thing you can do is play into their delusions.Â
"You're right." You say, the tears finally feeling useful. "I just wanted to leave. I-I was just bored. I wanted something new." Suguru's lips curl and you quickly move on. "But-but the more I stayed with them, the more I realized...how much I missed you two."Â
Satoru halts. You caught him.Â
"I did." You stress, carefully making your way to him on feet that were close to dropping at any minute. "Every day, I thought about you two." You reach out, touching his face with shaky fingers. "I really really wanted to come back, but I was afra-afraid you wouldn't...want me back."
Satoru reaches up to touch your hand. His fingers are cold. You resist the urge to shudder.Â
"You missed us?" He wonders.Â
The lie feels like sand.Â
"More than anything."Â
His kiss is violent. He crushes you with his grip, touching and biting and everything you hate. You squeeze your eyes shut, letting him suck your soul dry.Â
"Don't kill them." You whisper when he finally pulls away. "Please don't kill them. Everything was my fault."Â
Satoru's face is pensive. His gaze drifts off to Suguru's. Those silent conversations you hated so much.Â
Then, Satoru gives a delighted sigh.Â
"You're lucky. I love you so much." He kisses your nose, before pushing you in Suguru's arms.Â
"I'll clean up here. Suguru, go back to the truck." He demands.Â
You don't fight, letting Suguru drag you away. Shoko and Utahime live in apartments, but you're afraid if you scream, Satoru might change his mind and gut them anyway. Before Suguru leads you off, you catch Gojo scoffing before he kicks at Utahime's face. You gasp and pray that when Shoko wakes up, she'll be coherent enough to call for an ambulance.Â
I'm sorry, you tell them. I'm so so sorry.Â
Suguru pushes you into the backseat of their vehicle. You obediently take a seat.Â
"You shouldn't have left." He tells you. "You should've stayed."Â
His face is cold, but his tone betrays the tiniest tremor. If you weren't so scared, you'd laugh. The irony is that he's the one who feels wronged here.Â
"I'm sorry," you say anyway.Â
He hums, not quite satisfied with your answer.Â
"You aren't." He responds, and you hate how well he knows your tells.Â
And then, he grins.Â
"But you will be."
Hands reach out, gripping your neck. You flail immediately as Suguru cuts of your oxygen. You can't breathe. You can't fucking breathe. No matter how tightly you squeeze onto his wrist, digging your nails into his hands, clawing at his face. He keeps you still, keeping you there as you grow weaker. Your vision gets blurry. Your attempts get sluggish. There's a kiss on your forehead, and you black out completely.Â
~
You wake up in a room you've never seen before. And your neck is sore.Â
The pain drifts in as soon as consciousness does. You feel like you have a hangover, your head throbs, your eyes struggle to remain open. You can't go back to sleep either, not when it hurts so much.Â
The panic doesn't settle in until you catch the cuffs on either one of your legs, keeping you attached to the bedpost. Silver chains, with enough lead to let you move around a bit. The cuffs are padded so you don't rub yourself raw. You don't care about the thoughtfulness.Â
They're in the room with you, watching with silent eyes. Nausea builds up in your stomach, and you wonder how long they'd stayed there, just watching you.Â
You miss Shoko. You miss Utahime. You missed people who actually loved you.Â
Not these two. Monsters that lied and pretended, but deep down, they were just too selfish to share.Â
"You were out for a while." Suguru comments.Â
"I told you to use the syringe," Satoru remarks, but he doesn't sound too upset. At his voice, Suguru laughs.Â
You shift in your spot. Suguru takes that as an invitation. He sits at the edge of the bed, watching you with satisfied eyes. You must look pathetic: shivering, in tears. He reaches up, catching your tears with his finger.
"So cute." And then he frowns. "You know why we're doing this, yes? You were bad. You need to be punished."
"I'm sorry." It's all you can say. You feel like a broken record, doomed to repetition over and over again.
"You aren't. You should stop lying." Suguru says sweetly. "But I'm sure, a couple hours in your new home will help you think about how much you hurt us."
You wanted to scream, but you can't cuz your throat still hurts from Suguru's hands, and you know he's not above putting his hands on you this time. Maybe he never was, you just never saw this side of him until you made him snap.
"You're leaving?" You stumble, moving as they back away but the chains only take you so far. There are no windows, and when Suguru shuts the light off, the only thing that's keeping you from the dark entirely is the light emitting out the hallway.
"Wait." You beg. "Please. Wait, don't-don't leave me here. I'm sorry. This is scary. I'm scared."
Satoru hesitates at your broken voice. Like a shark smelling blood, you pounce.
"Satoru, please."
"If you keep coddling, then the lesson will never be learned." Suguru warns.
Satoru stares at you. He's not wearing his sunglasses. You can see him for what he is now.
"I love you." He says it so sincerely, you almost believe it. "This is for your own good."
The door shuts, and everything goes dark.
#yandere jjk#yandere#dark jjk#dark gojo satoru#dark content#yandere gojo satoru#x reader#yandere x reader#yandere gojo x reader#yandere jjk x reader#yandere geto suguru#yandere geto suguru x reader#dark geto suguru#shoko ieiri x reader#utahime x reader#yandere satosugu#dark satosugu#yandere scenarios#shokohime x reader
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OLDER!ENHYPEN OT6 HEADCANONS PART 2.
part 1
â ïž nsfw, mdni. daddy/sir/master kink, age gaps (every party in this is an ADULT, no minors involved) intoxicated sex for hee's, semi public sex for hee's and won's, pregnancy sex and stepcest for jay's, jake is a little shit, corruption kink for hoon's, public sex for sunoo's, jungwon as an entire warning for sunoo's, teacher/student dynamics for jungwon's.
i strongly advise you read part 1 before this as i'm not sure the dynamics are clear enough without previous context !
a!n i missed older enha sm i just had to give this a pt 2 <3 gen so sorry for not having posted anything in like. forever but life has been beating my ass and while brain is braining, fingertips are not writing ughhh. hopefully i get out of this slump :] as always feedback is much appreciated! enjoy <3
HEESEUNG | âs chest was caging you, pressing your front against the cold bathroom wall of the definitely too pricey bar your date for the night had insisted on bringing you to, and youâd be laughing at how fate works in such unexpected ways if it werenât for how sloppily heeseungâs mouth was running down your neck. warm tongue tracing every little sensitive spot and teeth grazing your skin.
âthat little boy out there? he will never make you cum as good as i do,â he whispered as he slightly pulled back, breath hot from the alcohol raising goosebumps all over your body. you were very, very annoyed with him though, after the months of radio silence on his part that followed that one night in your room. and you made it clear with how you pressed your ass against his crotch, the gasp leaving his lips making yours turn upwards in return. had you known all it took to break lee heeseung was showing up to the bar he and his coworkers frequented with another manâs arm secured around your waist, you wouldâve done that ages ago.
âwell, he definitely made me cum way more in the last mââ you donât even get the chance to finish your sentence, one of his rough hands flying up to your neck to squeeze it just enough to make the words die in your throat. his other hand grabbed his cock and teased the tip of it against your folds, the fabric of your panties so drenched with your juices they stuck perfectly to your fluttering pussy, and he could feel it all.
âoh yeah? how many? so smug and for what? he must have not done a good job then because here you are, dripping for me and i havenât even done anything.â he let his cock rest underneath your heat, slowly moving his hips to tease you as he bunched your skirt up to get a clear view. all the patience and control he thought he had was already wavering, but it flew out of the window right then. like all the months of self-restraint, the guilt he felt towards your dad, even when he was fucking his fist alone at night on facebook family pics his best friend would post every so often, bringing his deepest desires out on the surface all over again. it all meant nothing when he finally pushed your panties out of the way, unashamed of the amount of precum mixing with your juices, as he bit down on your ear before letting his tip slide into your heat. âbut i have all the time i want to match whatever number it is, angel.â
JAY | who had to watch you walk around with your boyfriend, his stupid face always so bright ever since you gave him the news that youâre pregnant. stupid fucking idiot who thinks heâs the dad. but of course, jay knew better. there was no way that child growing in your belly wasn't his, not after making sure to cum inside you time and time again whenever he had the chance, until his body physically couldnât cum anymore. he hated your boyfriend and he hated to know you let his dirty hands on your body. he hated that he couldn't claim you publicly, letting everyone know youâre his. so all he had, to keep whatever little shred of sanity left in him, was knowing that your child is a product of your love.
and when his head nuzzled in your hair as he breathed in the sweet scent of your shampoo while pumping his cock carefully in and out of your wet cunt, he asked time and time again if you knew itâs his offspring you're carrying, if you were doing all this on purpose to make him hurt.
âbut of course you knowâhow could you not,â he said in open mouthed kisses against your neck, his hands sliding away from your thighs to swipe soothing figures with his thumb into the skin of your swollen belly. how could it be so wrong? even if heâs your step dad, even if he recently married your mother? his love for you couldnât be wrong, because then why did it feel so right? something so beautiful and pure just has to be right, he thought to himself. his hands wandered to your tits full of milk, playing gently with your hypersensitive nipples, careful not to hurt you. âshhhh little girl, itâs okay, iâve got you,â he murmured along the skin of your shoulder as he kept rubbing his fingers all over your tits, the little droplets of milk only helping his digits to move smoothly. you sounded so pretty mewling like that for him, looked so pretty squirming in his strong hold, your back arched as you started to fuck yourself back on jayâs cock. âwhat a good little girl⊠helping daddy out,â he moaned in your ear before bringing one of his fingers to his mouth and licking it clean, loudly groaning at the taste of your milk. âso fucking sweet baby, fuck⊠you always make daddy so proud.â
JAKE | truly didn't mean for this to happen, but it was happening anyway so you two should just make the best of it, at least thatâs what you hoped he thought. you though? fuck, you felt so embarrassed. leaving your cheating boyfriend for his dad was one thing. but knowing he was listening in to you two fucking? thatâs next level. jake didnât seem particularly fazed by it, actually maybe a little⊠excited about it?
youâd swear heâs been pounding you into the matress even rougher than he was before, since he heard the front door slam, signifying his son was back home when he shouldn't have been. you were always so careful with making sure you only went over when your ex boyfriend wasn't there, or maybe jake had done that on purpose? lied to you⊠but he would never, would he? heâd always been so sweet and caring, truly the best man youâve ever had. and honestly even if he did plan for this, you were not coherent enough to realize, at least not while he held your head down on the mattress with his huge veiny hand, the other roughly holding onto your hip as he unapologetically pounded into you, making the headboard of the bed slam repeatedly into the wall. the exact wall against where you knew your ex boyfriendâs desk is placed. jake was usually so soft, always putting your pleasure above his, what had gotten into him?
you could barely think as you moved your head to the side to be able to breathe, the relief short lived because soon after he grabbed your hair in a makeshift ponytail and yanked you up against his chest, his hips never faltering as your face started to feel even hotter. you couldn't tell if it was the humiliation or the pleasure, or maybe both.
âstop fucking holding back,â his tone was almost mean, so uncharacteristically him, and it brought tears to your eyes, but also made your messy cunt leak even more. you didn't want to be heard, but jake was making it one hell of a challenge to keep quiet, especially when he let go of your hip and brought his hand to rub harsh circles on your clit.
âplease sir⊠slower,â you bit down your moans, pleading through gritted teeth. and jake was not happy about it. the sting on your clit was sudden, your body jerking in his hold as you slowly realized heâd just slapped your clit.
âno,â his voice left no room for backtalk, as he hit your bundle of nerves one second time. âyou will let him hear how much better i fuck you.â
SUNGHOON | was the first man you allowed to touch you. he was obsessed with you from the moment you shyly walked up to him to introduce yourself when you first met him, pretty large eyes looking up at him with a glint he couldn't quite decipher at first. he slowly learned it was submission. from day one, youâd been nothing but obedient, always looking for praise, always trying your best to make him a proud instructor. and you just always looked up to him with such innocence⊠it felt wrong, how hard it made his cock.
so when he finally had you for the first time, he had to try his best not to cum right then and there, when you told him youâd never been with anyone like this. you couldn't even look at him as you confessed it, poor little thing. no one had ever pushed past your folds inside your tight fluttering hole, youâd never had anything push between your lips, never had anyone taste you. he was obsessed with that thought. heâd get to be your first everything, and that made his cock twitch in his pants.
âitâs okay baby⊠i will make it feel so goodâŠâ he said as he captured your lips in a kiss once again, so soft and careful as if he might break you. the kiss was deliberately slow and sensual, he wanted to just bask in the moment, afraid it might end too soon, his hands roaming around your body and pulling you flush against him, his length rubbing against your body. you gasped at the contact, breaking away suddenly, surprised at how he chased your lips again right away.
âwanâ... wanna make you feel goodâŠâ
he could tell you were holding something back, too shy to initiate it, so he helped you out. âwho is it pretty girl mh? who do you want to satisfy?â he watched you carefully, cradling your head with his hand, and nearly groaning when your nuzzled into his palm right away, just like a little kitty.
âwanna make daddy feel good⊠donât know how to,â you stuttered out, hiding your face in his hand, too embarrassed to keep eye contact. he doesn't know where he found the self control to not turn you against the lockers in the changing room and take you right then and there, but somehow, he did. instead dropping to his knees in front of you and sniffing your cunt right through your workout leggings, mouth salivating instantly. he mouthed at your core, basking in your cute whimpers, before he finally slid the thick fabric down along with your panties, enough to reveal your puffy little pussy. he grabbed your thighs, bringing you over his mouth completely, admiring her from so close. âanother time sweet girl⊠let daddy take care of this needy little thing first.â
SUNOO | loved showing you off to everyone. to his employees, to his friends, to his collaborators and most of all, to his competition. especially when said competition has⊠history with you.
he always made you wear nothing under your skirt, granting him easier access during the night. at that point, you had started to get used to all the weird looks and whispers you got when, like clockwork, his hand slid between your thighs under the table to toy with your pussy. not like they ever said anything anyway, sunoo was just too powerful and important for them to. regardless of how fucking weird he is.
this time though, itâs different. the guest for the night was none other than yang jungwon, one of sunooâs top competitors, and well⊠probably your most infamous old fling. and sunoo was fucking loving it. for the special occasion, heâd encouraged you time and time again during the night to sneak your hand in his pants. and so you do; what sunoo wanted, sunoo got. that was the rule.
the air was charged with tension despite the almost laid-back look of it all: sunoo laying back against his chair like absolutely nothing was going on, and jungwon seemingly uncaring for what was actually going on, if not a little humored by it. and they were just making casual conversation at that. âheeseung⊠havenât heard that name in a long time,â jungwon pondered, reaching for his wine glass.
âyeah⊠last time i met him heâ fuck yeah puppy, just like that.â
your hand froze on sunooâs cock, noting the twitch in his length. he always loved putting you in embarrassing situations, got off on it. your eyes widened like a deer caught in the headlights as you looked at jungwon, your foot nervously tapping on the floor when he stopped mid sip. he looked between the two of you, eyebrow quirking slightly before downing the rest of the wine in one swing. âpuppy, huh?â
you wanted to hide somewhere, anywhere. let the ground engulf you and never let you escape. but sunoo pinched your thigh, and you knew it meant he wanted you to keep milking his cock with your fist, so you did.
âa very obedient one,â sunoo snickered, and you hated how it made you clamp your thighs together in search of some friction.
âshe knows how to use her hands, but her head is even better,â jungwon commented, clearly amused by the situation.
âagree, had to train her to take it though.â they were talking about you, in front of you, completely ignoring the fact that you were there to hear it. and for some sick reason it turned you on. you glanced back at sunoo with a questioning look on your features, and he pet your head a few times, the usual glint in his eyes telling you to keep going, or heâd have to teach you a lesson when you two eventually left the restaurant. and one thing about sunoo, you never wanted to push him to do that.
JUNGWON | prided himself in being a calm and collected man, always level headed. that completely flies out of the window when it comes to you. but could you blame him? when he sees how all your coursemates tried to get paired up with you, found any excuse to talk to you? he knew they just wanted to get in your pants, he saw it in how they watched you, how their eyes roamed all over your body whrn you were not looking their way. he saw it in their eyes too, and he fucking hated it.
he knew it was not your fault, but he couldn't take it out on them. after all, what you two have was a secret. so instead, he took it out on you. called for you to stay back so you two could talk after class was over and everyone was already leaving, you happily walking towards him without a know in the world of the storm raging inside him. you caught up soon though, when you noticed how hard his jaw was clenched and how his knuckles were turning white from the strong grip he had on the crumpled papers.
he hastily took off his tie, securing it around your wrists so your arms were bound together behind your back. you were so confused as he made you get on his desk, looking back at him to ask what's happened but he didn't even let you get a word out before he pushed you on your knees. your upper body bent forward to rest on the desk because your arms were tied together, unable to support yourself up. your ass was facing him as he stood behind you, pushing your skirt up to reveal your bare cunt. no panties.
this would usually excite him, but in his jealous haze, it only enraged him further. âand you wanna act like you donât know what the fuck you did?â he spit out, yanking you closer to the edge of his desk. âslutting yourself out like this? when you know how everyone is trying to get a look under your skirt?â
âwon, what are youââ
âwon?â he landed a harsh slap on your ass, your body jerking forward at the sting.
âsir! sorry sirââ
âyeah youâll be sorry alright.â he took a seat on his chair, bringing your ass to hover close to his face before diving in and licking a stripe from your clit to your hole, groaning in satisfaction at the taste. âno cumming today, little brat.â
#enhypen smut#enhypen headcanons#heeseung smut#jay smut#jake smut#sunghoon smut#sunoo smut#jungwon smut#enhypen drabble#enhypen fanfic#enhypen x reader#heeseung x reader#jake x reader#jay x reader#sunghoon x reader#jungwon x reader#sunoo x reader
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Begin Again
an: this has been a long time in the making and I think it's a favorite of mine.
Pairing: Peter Parker X Mean!Reader
Genre: Angst, fluff, enemies to lovers.
CW: harsh language, mental breakdowns, mentions of cheating (not peter)
Word Count: 24K
Summary: You've lived next door to Peter your whole life and the last nine years you've detested him. Now you're going through a breakup and it's nice to know someone's awake with you. Even if it is Peter Parker.
Breakups suck.
Thatâs it. Thatâs the whole message. Thereâs nothing else to add, except youâd never let yourself love again. Itâs not like you didnât know it wasnât going to happen, you were aware the entire year what it would lead into, but hasnât every girl sworn, at least once, they were the exception to a boys rule?Â
Natalie Greeneâs voice echoed in your mind, âdonât get involved with a senior boy. They move on and youâre left picking up the pieces in homeroom.â You didnât listen. You got involved and it was a good year, you knew he was going to college and when he left the break up was inevitable. Still, it didnât hurt as hard until three months into the school year he called and said he met someone else.Â
You wish you werenât so kind and understanding to him.
You called Natalie Greene the second it ended, she picked up and that angel voice of hers shined through the phone. She asked âhello?â three times before you sobbed. You could feel the empathy in her tone, âhe ended it, huh?â All you could do is squeak back, âstay right there babe, Iâm on my way with the break up kit.â Â
She showed up with a stray grocery bag. âalright,â she stated, hands on her hips.Â
âI got ice cream, a super soft blanket, movies - of all genres, face masks, a lighter-âÂ
âWhy do you have a lighter?âÂ
Natalie rolls her eyes with a goofy grin, âto burn stuff, duh.â
The gesture was nice, but you couldnât focus on the movie.
It felt like everytime you blinked there were tears that would find themselves tracking down your cheeks, you sniffled occasionally and blankly stared at the screen; flashbacks clouding your mind. Each kiss, each laugh, each touch, every fight and makeup, the first time you felt someone's hips melt into yours.Â
A supercut of every moment.Â
You were replaying a thousand things and all he was thinking about was the new girl under him, you were angry at everything all at once. Angry at yourself for letting yourself get hurt and feeling this much pain, because you knew it was coming, it was the whole agreement when it started. Angry at him for not breaking his promise and loving you anyway, angry at him for not telling you heâd wait for you and everything would be okay.Â
Angry that you hate him and yourself but more angry how quickly youâd fall back into him if he called.Â
âI knew this was gonna happen, Nat.â You sniff, a cry bubbles from your throat, âso why does it hurt so bad?âÂ
Your friend frowns, sheâs no savor to heartbreak. Sheâs been where you are more times than one could take, she still loves with her whole heart and you donât know if you could ever do it again. Natalie wraps her arms around your shoulders while you shake with a sob, you cry into her knowing you're matting her blonde hair but she just pats you and holds you close.Â
âBecause even though the ending was coming it didnât feel real until the book closed. And maybe a little bit because you hoped heâd change his mind.âÂ
You gasp, âhow do I get past this? Nat, it feels..âÂ
Youâre tugged into her so tight you can feel her collarbone against your cheek, âlike youâre dying? Yeah, that happens. But, youâll live. It doesnât feel like it now, but the day will come where you can think about him, smile, and thank him for the opportunity.âÂ
You snort, âfor breaking my heart?âÂ
Natalie Greene holds you as tight as she can, âfor making you grow.âÂ
Your shoulders feel like theyâre falling behind you as you inch along the hallway, everything feels heavy. Your feet are like lead blocks, and your heart feels like itâs been tied down with an anchor. It hurts more to know heâs not aching like this, he has someone new to keep him busy.Â
Blinking at your locker you fight back a yawn, two weeks after heartbreak and it still feels the same. You sleep like shit, tossing and turning and weird dreams when you finally dozed off. The one thing thatâs helped keep your mind away from him, was your neighbor. Every night, at 3:02 am, on the dot, you hear the same movements.Â
A window slams shut, two soft hops on the floor and three bumps against the wall.Â
For six nights straight you kept count, it was methodical. A nightly routine, you werenât sure what he was doing, but it was something. It made your mind wonder, your most recent theory was that he was a smoker; weed, cigarettes or whatever, and he would blow smoke out his window before landing in bed.Â
Maybe his bed was against your wall and thatâs why you heard so many small knocks.Â
Last night you stayed up, you waited and right on the minute, like you expected, you heard a window slam shut. A small grin crossed your face, not at him, but at the idea of a constant. You lost your reliable figure, heâs thousands of miles away with his own new person, but tonight, and for the last seven nights youâve had something to rely on. Something that couldnât go anywhere.Â
You blink and suddenly youâre staring at your open locker, you donât even remember putting in the combination. On autopilot you grab what you need for your next three classes and shrug your backpack down. Lately, it seemed like everything moved in slow motion.Â
âAre we ready to go to Flashâs party friday and makeout with a rando or are we still numb to everything?âÂ
Natalie smiles at your figure, when you slouch and give her a âhey, Nat,â her blonde hair bounces as she nods her head understandingly, âstill dead to the world, understandable.âÂ
âAt this point Iâd do heroin to feel something,â your deadstare makes her think you might be serious. âTell you what, if youâre still this miserable in six weeks, weâll do it together.âÂ
Your eyebrow quirks, âyouâd do heroin with me if Iâm still this miserable?âÂ
Natalie Greeneâs hand sticks out, her eyes ferocious. You know immediately she has something up her sleeve.Â
âSix weeks, starting today.âÂ
You have nothing else to go on except the nightly wake up call and Natalie Greeneâs plan.Â
âSix weeks.âÂ
Itâs solidified with a handshake, your fingertips turn white in her hold.Â
WEEK ONE.
Natalie Greene had talked you into going to Flashâs party, not to makeout with anyone, she quickly withdrew that from the table. You had been very hesitant at first, pushing at every restraint and reason to why you shouldnât go and she stopped you right there. Manicured hand and all, petite and poised, she stopped your path.Â
âHereâs why you should go: get fucking wrecked, absolutely smashed and let it all out. I promise you, babe, it feels so, so good.âÂ
âYou think that will make me feel better? Getting hammered at a house party on a friday night?â
âIâll take care of you for the night, okay? Iâll get you drunk and you can cry or scream or whatever you want. Let go of anything youâre holding back, thatâs why you should go.âÂ
You look her over, sheâs been your rock the last three years in the school. Natalie is different, she protects and cares for herself like she does someone else. She also gives out more of her heart than she should, but she appreciates the burn it leaves. She tells you itâs one more ache preparing her for the one who would never make it hurt again.Â
If Natalie Greene says itâll help, youâll listen.Â
âYouâll drive me home and take care of me the next morning? Hungover and all?âÂ
A denim jacket covered shoulder shrugs, âI think itâs time I repay you for all these years.âÂ
For the first time in two weeks a real smile crosses your face, itâs small but itâs there.Â
Flashforward two days later, youâre eight drinks in and feeling like youâre flying.Â
You sway against your friend, âand he,â you hiccup, âhe said he was like, soooo in love with me but then like, fuckin four days later,â it took you a moment to hold up the correct number on your hand, âboom, no boyfriend.â Natalie tried to hold back a laugh but her cheeks blew up when she let it escape, you pulled the most comical âwhat the fuck?â face.Â
âI mean who the fuck does that- a sick person. Thatâs who! And- And you know what?â you hiccup, âI thought Iâd be sad, but I just kinda hate him, does that make me bad?âÂ
âNah, I had some that killed me inside and some that I just shrugged off. Some moved in waves. One minute Iâd say âfuck him!â and the next Iâd be overwhelmed with sadness because I didnât have anyone to hold me anymore.âÂ
You blink at her words and swallow the rest of your cup, you hadnât thought about that part yet. Not having anyone to call yours anymore, thatâs the hardest hitting part. You really, really wanted to call him. Just one more time, maybe he misses you just as much, maybe he doesnât know how to say sorry, maybe heâs waiting for you to call.Â
âI should call him, right?â Your hands fumble at your pockets, your friend panics and grabs at your arms. âNo! No, no, no! You absolutely should not call him!â You whine, âbut what if he-âÂ
Natalie grabs you tight, it makes you look at her confused. Her tone takes a sharp turn, she breaks through your drunken stupor in a second.Â
âHeâs not. Heâs not thinking about you, heâs not missing you, heâs not sitting around wishing youâd call him, heâs just not. He broke up with you, you donât do that if you still care. Donât do that to yourself, it ended mature. You have to be mature now.âÂ
Brutal honesty. It puts everything in perspective.Â
He didnât miss you, and that⊠really, really hurt.Â
Natalie was right, it comes in waves. Because there comes that sadness, it starts with small blinks and suddenly fat tears skip down your cheeks. âYouâre right! He, he doesnât-â you take harsh breaths, for the first time in two weeks you had a full breakdown. Everything you held back bottled over, you didnât know how you could hold in so much hurt.Â
âOkay, okay. Letâs go, we can cry in the car but not here.âÂ
Your breath shook the entire way to the car, the moment you sat in the passenger seat you cried. Your voice cracked, âhe said he loved me!â Natalie nodded, cranking the engine, âAnd Iâm sure he did, babe. Sometimes these things run their course and itâs no one's fault.âÂ
It went like that the entire car ride, until she stopped at a McDonald's and got you a milkshake so you could focus on getting the liquid up the straw instead of saying the same three things on a loop. Once you got fries in your mouth the thought of him was erased from your mind, choosing to sing loudly and stick your head out the window on the way back.Â
Stumbling and giggling quietly at the late hour while you swayed on the walk to your door, you stretched freely and yawned when you stumbled in. Home alone for the weekend, just how it should be. âIâm getting naked,â you started stripping while walking to your room to change into pajamas, your heart lurches when you see one of his shirts.Â
You flop backwards on your bed, the room slightly spins and you close your eyes tight trying to ground yourself. Wriggling into the sheets you sigh, and yawn again. Your head buries into a pillow and sleep is imminent.Â
âSleepy?âÂ
Natalie Greene stands in the doorway with water and some advil, you smile and pat your bed, inviting her to join.Â
âNatalie Greene, you are so great, did you know that?âÂ
Your friend laughs, you nuzzle into her hand while she strokes your hair, âI did, but a reminder is always nice. Go to sleep, babe. Iâll make toast in the morning.âÂ
Her gentle touch makes it easy, you yawn one more time. Your voice flutters while you talk into sleep.
âDo me a favor?âÂ
âAnything,â she whispers. You donât think he ever loved you this soft. Â
âMake sure he gets home for me.âÂ
Natalie Greene asked who but all she received were soft snores.Â
The birds were screaming the earth back awake.Â
At least thatâs how it felt, your ears were ringing and there was a dull, present thud in your head. The sunlight has never been so bright, you hold your eyes shut but the ache gets louder and you canât get comfortable.Â
Thereâs two pills and half a glass of water waiting for you, god bless Natalie Greene.Â
âGood morning, sunshine!â You wince and choke on your gulp of water, a knife has pierced your eardrum. âOh my god, everything is on dial eleven, I think Iâm dying.âÂ
âHow are you feeling? Besides the obvious, I mean.âÂ
She means about him, you take a moment to really think about it.Â
âI think⊠I think Iâm doing okay.âÂ
Your friend smiles and throws her hair into a ponytail, âgood, Iâm making breakfast. Come join.âÂ
After ten minutes and infinite pep talk you rise on shaky knees, stumbling towards your door and barely making it to the couch where you spread wide and gulped for air. Your friend snorted at your exaggeration over her shoulder and carefully walked towards you with a piping mug of tea.Â
Sitting up you bring a blanket over your shoulders, you squint at her before taking the handle. Taking a sip while you turn the TV on, searching for a midmorning throwaway show. A re-run of The Wendy Williams Show wins, you rest your head on a cushion and stare blankly at the screen. Natalie Greene humming up a tune in the kitchen.Â
You hadnât even checked your phone yet, âwhat time is it?âÂ
âNoon thirty.âÂ
Your eyes widen, âmy god,â you mumble to yourself.Â
Listening to Wendy your eyes lull shut and suddenly you're sinking back into sleep, you roll over and smack your dry lips. Until your friend is kicking at your shin with two plates in her hands, stacked full of the breakfast nines.Â
Your queasy stomach grumbles and any drowsiness is ripped away with hunger. Nearly drooling, you stuff a piece of french toast in your mouth and moan, âNat, youâre the greatest thing I got.â She bounces her shoulder into yours, âI know.â Â
You fall into silence while you scarf breakfast down, booing and applauding when deemed necessary by Wendy. Leaning back you rest your hands over your full belly and pat gently. Swiping your tongue over your gums for any crumbs, you sigh happily.Â
âHey, what did you mean last night? You said to let you know if he got home safely.âÂ
You wave her off, âdrunk stupidness, I hear my neighbor every night around the same time moving around. This last week, I dunno, it felt nice knowing someone else was up too?âÂ
âHave you ever-âÂ
Both your necks turn to look at the front door then back at each other, the knocking that caught your attention continues.Â
âWhoâs-âÂ
âDid you-âÂ
You swallow and stand up, not so shaky anymore. Looking through the peephole your forehead hits the door at the sight of said neighbor, you know what they say about devils and appearing, groaning you take a moment to collect yourself and open the door.Â
âWhat do you want, penis?âÂ
Peter Parker in all his glory, is knocking at your door with a plate of⊠cookies?Â
Neighbors forever, close pals never. Youâd played together as kids, mostly elementary age but since you were eight youâve had a disdain for Peter Parker. Youâre not sure where it went wrong, but just looking at him you wanted to roll your eyes.Â
âI was going to say, âwow, how could a guy ever dump you?â but now, Iâd say thatâs how.âÂ
Normally that wouldnât hurt, but the recent circumstances made it a cheap shot.Â
âIs this your sorry attempt to be a rebound? Because if it is, I want to make it extremely clear Iâd rather eat glass than-âÂ
The plate is shoved into your face, âMay had me bring these over, she said your mom told her youâve been a weepy, miserable mess because some dickhead thought he found someone better.âÂ
You huff at him, your fingers wrap around his wristwatch as you pull it down, all you heard was weepy and miserable.
âI know you wouldnât know anything about someone loving you but-âÂ
âIs that Peter B. Parker?âÂ
Natalie Greene reminds you of your hangover in record timing, you wince at her shriek. Peter gives a polite, dare you say charming (?) smile. It makes you fight back a gag, âhello, Natalie Greene.â Her eyes flash from his, to the plate, to the cracked open door across the hall and she gets a wicked grin.Â
The person youâve hated and bickered with the most is suddenly the one you listen out for in the middle of the night. The look on her face, the glance she shared with you, proved she knew.Â
âCookies?â Natalie nudges your arm, âhe brought cookies and heâs right across the hallway, how nice.âÂ
Peterâs oblivious to her tone, he has his goofy smile on and it makes you seeth. Heâs always so god damn happy, itâs annoying.Â
âWell, actually, my aunt made them. But I am delivering, so I can accept some praise.âÂ
She laughs, full on cackles and nudges you again.Â
âYou know, in all the times you talked about Peter you never mentioned how funny he was!âÂ
You donât know what sheâs playing at but youâre shutting it down immediately.Â
Peter looks at you, he seems almost hopeful and you have to settle the urge to toss the plate to the ground. âYou talk about me?âÂ
You cross your arms and sneer, âdonât worry, nothing good.âÂ
His smile drops, âyeah, sorry. I donât know why..â his curls bounce as he gently shakes his head before pushing the glass into your chest. âHere, eat as many as it takes to feel somewhat okay again.âÂ
You grip the plate and look down, theyâre your favorite.Â
âWe, um. We have more over here, so if you want more. Or if you wanna hang out or something Iâm here, soâŠâÂ
Peterâs never been a friend like this before and it was some pity party you wanted no part of now.Â
âItâs a breakup. Iâm sure I can manage without you just fine.âÂ
His eyebrows turn in, âright. I just thought- nevermind, enjoy the cookies.âÂ
Natalie gives him a sympathetic frown and sulks back inside, you keep your glare on his figure until he reaches his door. As youâre about to retreat he stops in the doorway, âfor what itâs worth, I think heâs stupid and heâs gonna realize what he lost when itâs way too late.âÂ
Itâs almost nice, sometimes it sucks when the person youâre supposed to hate has human peek through their armor.Â
Too bad youâre more guarded than ever.Â
âWell, then. Itâs a good thing youâre not worth much.âÂ
Maybe itâs his resilience that troubles you, no matter how hard you push him away or beat him down with words heâll pick himself back up and hand your words back in a package of self reflection.Â
Today is no exception, Peter flashes you a sad smile, this one actually is filled with pity.Â
âIâm sorry youâre hurting,â you didnât have a chance to fire back. His door was already shut.
Heartache throbbed but the cookies were damn good.Â
On your third, you down half a cup of milk. You reach for a fourth and Natalie hasnât said one word. Instead she cleaned the kitchen and packed up her overnight bag, before settling next to you for an episode of Jerry Springer and her own deserved treat.Â
âSo, do tell, my friend. Is Peter the one you wanted to know was home safe?âÂ
Deny till death.Â
âNo way, Iâm talking about Mr. Harrington, heâs like a hundred years old.âÂ
Natalie takes her time chewing and swallowing, âyour hundred year old neighbor is up in the middle of the night?â
Itâs dumb to lie, you and her know the truth.Â
You shrug and take a fifth cookie, âhe may have a routine, I dunno.âÂ
Your friend hums, âI just thought it may be Peter, cause you share a wall and all.âÂ
Gagging at his name you shake it off, âGross! Itâs bad enough knowing the plate these were on were in his hands.â It takes you a second but youâre able to plow through another bite.Â
âI just⊠why do we hate Peter so much?âÂ
You donât know, you think you blocked it out. Every time you look at him a weird feeling bubbles up and it makes you want to scream, cry, fight and hug it out with him in one second. Itâs easier to bark at him than confront him about your feelings.Â
âI donât know. Heâs just a pest to me, every time I turn around heâs there. And I swear to god he spilled the beans about that party last year.âÂ
Natalie Greene knows three things to be true.Â
One: Peter Parker likes you, you just donât know it yet.Â
âWhat if you talked to him?âÂ
Cookie crumbs fall over your shirt as you talk, âIâm sorry, what?âÂ
Two: You like Peter Parker, you just donât know it yet.Â
âIf you need me and Iâm not around, if you need someone to support you through this and I canât be here, promise me youâll knock on his door.âÂ
You scoff at the idea, âyeah, sure.â sheâs not very confident you mean it.Â
âSeriously, promise me right now if I canât be there for you, youâll ask him.âÂ
She was serious, something in her tone made you shift and agree. Itâs not like sheâd go anywhere, Natalie Green was your lifeline.Â
âAlright! If you arenât around and itâs literally life or death, Iâll ask⊠him.âÂ
Three: Things get worse before they get better, you just donât know it yet.
WEEK TWO.
Your mornings always started the same, a routine was important to you. It was consistent. It was wake up, hit up the bathroom, change, yawn and rub your eyes through breakfast before leaving to thrive in silence before school.Â
Today, when leaving, right as youâre pocketing your keys, your neighbor speaks out.Â
âHey.âÂ
You freeze, itâs rare you run into Peter in the mornings. You figure he leaves way earlier, or later than you. But when you do, you ignore each other with silence. You really donât like the sudden change.Â
âHow are you doing?âÂ
You wonder if he heard you crying last night, you thought you got rid of it after the party. You didnât understand how you could be happy one moment and miserable the next. What made it worse was when 3:02 am hit and you heard his window slam, your sniffles settled.Â
âLike I was dumped, thanks for the reminder.âÂ
Your foot hits the first step when he calls out, âand the cookies?âÂ
Biting your bottom lip you turn, it really was a nice gesture. You may not like him, but you loved May and sheâs the one that put in all that hard work. Peter lights up when you face him, if he had a tail heâd start wagging it. It makes you bite down on your cheek, he doesnât deserve unprovoked rage.Â
âThey were really good,â you take three steps before turning back around.Â
âAnd, I uh, took your advice. Ate the whole plate, I mean.âÂ
Peter fumbles, his key chain drops but he stays looking at you. His thumb shoots behind him to point at his door, âwe have like, twenty left. Want some more?âÂ
You shake your head softly, âmaybe later?â Peter nods exuberantly, âyeah, yeah. Iâll bring them over.âÂ
You curl your lip up and stomp down the steps, âthanks for the warning, penis!âÂ
This was it.Â
This was your worst nightmare.Â
Not only did things get shuffled around until you were sitting next to Peter at dinner, where you made it a point to scoot your chair away from him when his shoulder touched yours and immediately swiped the area clean- But now you blinked blankly at your dinner while your mom droned on and on and on about the guy who dumped you. It didnât matter if it was good or bad, you just wanted her to stop.Â
âAnd he was so sweet, wasnât he? Honey, are you sure he hasnât reached out? Itâs not too late to call him, maybe if you-â May didnât deserve to see you upset, and it kills you that Peter saw that emotion. Your mom didnât even deserve it, you were so sick of trying to keep it together.Â
Your chair screeches with how quick you jump out of your seat.Â
âHe doesnât give a shit, he dumped me! So why do you think heâd call? He doesnât want me, I mean heâs made that clear right?â Your eyes shoot to Mayâs, âIâm right, right? You donât break up with someone if you still care, or want them, right?âÂ
Tears haze your vision, âhe ended it with me mom, and you know why? Itâs cause he found a new girl! He fucking-â water rushes down your cheeks but you donât stop, âhe,â you collapse on the word, you canât get a good inhale on breath.Â
âHe left me to pick up the pieces, thatâs all he did.â It clicked full motion, he left you behind and ended it. He got a fresh start and you were left trying to hold it together, like how it was, how it was supposed to be.Â
You sob, your chest has never felt so tight. Shaky breaths fade into sharp inhales, you canât fucking breathe. Gasping you put a hand over your heart, you know in the back of your mind itâs a panic attack but all you feel is imminent death.Â
Peter stands and blocks your body with his, you donât know whatâs happening but youâre trying to get away. Each step you take backwards he takes one forwards until you're wheezing in your room, your ears are ringing and it feels like a heart attack is in approach. Your eyes squeeze shut and in an instant you feel calmer, itâs not because of your sudden blink. Itâs because Peter has his hands over your ears pressing in, your back against the wall and front against his chest. Â
Itâs the last place you want to be but youâre angry, and heâs there, and itâs all coming out.Â
Youâre able to breathe but at what cost? You grip Peterâs shirt as tight as you could and wail into his chest, itâs the first time youâve ever actually felt him against you. Heâs more sturdy than you thought, as you push more and more weight on him he doesnât stagger one bit. His arms held you to him, keeping steady until youâd push him away.Â
âIâm sorry, Iâm so sorry,â you coughed the words into his shirt, you held tighter when his only response was resting his chin on your head. You apologized and cried until you ran out of tears and your breaths were nothing but sharp inhales.Â
When reality hits and you realize you've been crying into Peterâs hold for minutes you push him away and wipe your nose. Avoiding his eyes, you look to the carpet, you have a fresh cry glow and mindset, itâs the good kind of emotional numb.Â
âI, um, I still have those cookies?âÂ
Those being his choice of words after a troubling breakdown was warming, it made you feel like you werenât so crazy. Or at least, Peter didnât see you as crazy, which when thinking about didnât mean much.Â
You canât help but laugh, itâs so loud and opposite of every other emotion you spilled tonight it makes him jump, you see him setting up for the attack. The moment you snap at him and call him a weirdo for cornering you and throwing himself on you.Â
Tonight, you were full of surprises.Â
âYeah,â you nod your head and wipe your nose one last time, âIâd love to come over for cookies.âÂ
You had to look away from his smile, it was too blinding.Â
You broke the rule, you went lurking and hurt your own feelings. Sheâs all over his instagram, and sheâs pretty. Heâs all over hers, dating back to five months ago.Â
You do a double take, five months?Â
He had been cheating on you for months before he ended it. You feel sick. He told you he loved you while he was in bed with another girl. You felt so much rage inside you couldnât hold it in, Natalie was too far away and Peterâs already seen you at your worst.Â
You move without thinking, slamming your fist on his door.Â
Wide eyes open it, Peter would be lying if he said he wasnât scared he was the subject of attack. You swerve past him, if you were in a cartoon, steam would be billowing from your ears. You didnât get angry often, and youâve never felt upset enough to punch someone, but all you could think about was screaming and slamming your fist into the wall.Â
âI hate him, I fucking hate him so fucking much. If you ever hear me crying I need you to come over and tell me Iâm absolutely pathetic for crying over a fucking cheater.âÂ
While heâs glad youâre not there to yell at him, his heart sinks for you.Â
âIâm so sorry.âÂ
âIt was right in front of my face, too. Sheâd been claiming him since the second week of school. Iâve been a fool, god, I fucking hate him. I hate him so much I⊠I want to break something.âÂ
Peter eyes his science notebook, he doesnât have anything for you to break, but he has something that will make enough noise to drown out the voices. He grabs it and holds it out, you gently take it giving him a confused look.Â
âWack it. Beat the absolute shit out of it on the counter.âÂ
You look unsure, you donât want to ruin his things, even if you donât like him.Â
âRight on the edge, go on, do it.â His egging you on makes you follow his command, itâs gentle.Â
âHarder,â you test it.Â
âHarder,â you give a smack, it makes a popping sound and you jump, it feels good.Â
âLike you mean it, like you need it.â You do it again, itâs louder. You strike down without instruction, Peter starts barking at you, it makes you angrier.Â
âHarder, donât be so weak!â
He hit the right nerve, you canât stop, youâre moving so quick and using so much force the spine starts to rip from the cardboard. It feels good destroying something, it makes you beat the laminate harder. Loud cracks echoing from the walls.Â
You heave for air, every bit of force directed into your diminished trust. You yell between each blow.Â
âFucking!âÂ
âPiece!â
âOf!â
âShit!âÂ
You start to slow down, Peterâs notebook is fucked. You feel bad. Gasping for air when youâre done, Peter gives you a head nod, âbetter?âÂ
You nod, âlots. Sorry about your book.â He doesnât look bothered in the slightest, âitâs a good excuse to get a new one, I hate green.â You peer over the contents in the pages, âthatâs a lie, everyone knows science is green.â Peter laughs, he nods like heâs saying âyou got me there.â âDoesnât mean I like it though.âÂ
Looking down at the notebook, you peer up at Peter. He looks soft, the sleeves of his zip up hoodie covered his thumbs, he has sweater paws. His hair framed his face nicely, his cheeks have a natural pink hue, itâs like heâs always sunkissed, or calming down from a laughing fit.Â
The sun is backlighting him perfectly, it makes his eyes look even more honey golden than they already do. You donât know why you find him slightly cute at the moment, it makes your stomach tug and not in a good way. The last time you thought someone was cute you got burned, and youâve always had a disdain for Peter.Â
Peter was the worst kind of rebound to have because you canât decide whoâd get more hurt from it, and the thought of that makes you want to avoid him forever.Â
âYouâre looking at me funny.âÂ
You are, itâs because youâre noticing him for the first time, at least since you were eight. Suddenly you can remember why you cut him out when you were a kid.Â
âI had a crush on you when we were younger. I think thatâs why I stopped being your friend.âÂ
Your confession made Peterâs eyes widen, he looks to the ground and hides his smile. When he picks his head back up he looks to the side, his cheeks a bit more flushed than normal. âThatâs cute.âÂ
It was. It was innocent and juvenile, his small response made you laugh. âYeah, it really was.â You shouldnât entertain it any further, but you canât stop. Something about seeing his blush makes you want to keep going, âWanna know when it started?â He looks curious, âsure.âÂ
You go quiet for a minute, you havenât thought about it in years. The moment it clicked you were freaked out, the first time you liked a boy and he was your best friend. You went from wanting to play in dirt to holding his hand. A smile spreads over your face when you watch the memory replay in your mind.Â
âWe were at the complex playground and we were digging by that droopy tree across from the swingset, and I saw a lizard in the grass and I pointed it out to you. I told you I always wanted to hold one but they moved too fast and scared me, but you held out your arm and said âI got this.ââ You laugh, replaying it once more.Â
âAnd you dive bombed and picked it up, and you were so fucking proud to have caught it. Then you placed it in my hand but I felt it move around and freaked out, but you held your hand over mine and said âdonât be scared.ââÂ
Thereâs something about an eight year old Peter Parker with glasses and dirt smudged cheeks that had child you giddy.
Peterâs smiling, itâs like heâs reliving that day in his head too. âI fulfilled your lifelong dream and you fell for me.â You shrug, âmaybe.â Setting his notebook on the counter you look around, you feel like youâve said too much.Â
âHey, um, thanks for the whole⊠unleashing my anger thing.â You're setting yourself up for a goodbye, Peter can sense it.Â
âAre you hungry? Wanna go get some pizza?âÂ
No matter what was said, or thought, you still have that pinch of annoyance at him. But his brightness was what you needed today, and you hadnât had lunch. You have a sinking feeling youâd regret it, there was something that felt like it was a bit more than friendly and it had you throwing up every wall possible.Â
Still, you find yourself agreeing.Â
âSure. Letâs get some pizza.âÂ
It was a stereotypical pizza place and those were the best ones. The wall is covered in pictures of random people, terrible paintings and red checkered tablecloths covered wobbly tables. They had a permanent sticky residue, your elbows peeled when you raised them up.Â
âIâm surprised you didnât judge me on my hawaiian choice.â He always did, he told you it wasnât authentic and childish.
âHey, Iâm a pizza guy, alright? Anything you put on a pizza belongs on it. I mean, I get the appeal, sweet and savory.â Your face brightens, he understands. âExactly! And the warm pineapple just hits differently, itâs like-â Peter can read your mind, you say it at the same time. âFries and ice cream.âÂ
Another thing he found gross, your head tilts, it just kind of clicks with Peter. Your ex would sneer when youâd go for a dip, you begged him to try it a hundred times, you promised heâd like it but heâd tell you it was âfucking grossâ.Â
âHawaiian and pepperoni, can I get you kids anything else?â You shake your head while Peter responds for the both of you, âno thanks, weâre good.â Peterâs slice has a pool of grease in a slice of his pepperoni, it looks delicious. He sees you eying his choice and holds it out, âyou want a bite donât you?â Your eyes flash to your slice, âonly if you take a bite of mine.â Itâs only fair. âSwap with me,â you trade plates and tap slices as a cheers, humming when you take a bite Peter nods impressively.Â
You swap back and take a bite of yours, itâs heavenly. âIâm glad I got mine.â Peter agrees with the statement, âIâm sorry, babe, but pepperoni is superior. Itâs all about keeping it simple.â You know he meant nothing by it, you know it meant it in a friendly way, you know itâs a regular pet name to use in passing, but he called you babe.Â
Hearing the term of affection makes your skin crawl, you swallow a lump in your throat. You want to snap at him, but instead your voice comes out soft. âPlease donât call me that.â Peterâs eyes soften, he almost tells you he didnât mean it like that, but he knows you already understand that.Â
âNo problem, old lady.â It took a second, but you couldnât stop the laugh. âWhat did you just call me?â Peter bites his bottom lip, âwell, thatâs the opposite of babe, isnât it?â It makes your smile bigger, itâs funny, if you had asked him something that simple heâd fight you on it, ask a million questions and push it until you gave up.Â
For the first time in a month you really canât remember why you thought he was so great.Â
WEEK THREE.
Natalie Greene has her hair pulled slick back in a ponytail, a determined look and hands on her hips.Â
âLetâs fuck some shit up.âÂ
Lunch with Peter had really pushed you forward, you had strayed away from him the last few days. You still listened for him nightly but avoided him in the hallway and at school, he was everything he was not, and it made you feel queasy.Â
It was time you removed him from your life, you started with blocking him on everything. From instagram to duolingo. Then, you piled up everything he left behind or things that reminded you of him, but you couldnât touch your closet. You couldnât bring yourself to do it. Enter Natalie Greene.
âI donât know why itâs so hard for me, everything else was fine.â Natalie shrugs, your closet doors are open and sheâs itching to start rummaging. âItâs not for me. What are we thinking, trash, donate, burn? Dare I say detonate?âÂ
You snort, âthink I could do some black magic?â Her eyes light up, âIâll look up the dark arts right now, donât dare me.â You sigh, âI donât care what you do with them, I just need them out of here.â Natalie Greene understands, sheâs been there too a few times. Everything that reminds you of him burns like hell. A constant reminder of whatâs no longer.Â
Itâs only five shirts and some sweatpants but it feels paralyzing. Once his clothes are gone heâs no longer, like the last year never meant anything. He cheated but you still feel like it was real for the time you had him.Â
âShit, can we raincheck the disposal?â Natalie is staring at her phone in her hand, a worried line where her lips were. âFamily stuff.â You tell her itâs fine and send her out in a second, staring at the bag you started to twitch.Â
It felt daunting- a looming presence. You almost got rid of him but couldnât. It was five minutes of harsh breathing, then you drag it across the hall hoping Peter was home. You needed them gone.Â
 May answered the door and you feel slightly flustered.Â
âHi, May. Is Peter home?âÂ
She welcomes you in the door, skipping over the makeshift laundry bag and giving a quick but squeezing hug. âHow are you feeling?â If you had been asked that a week ago youâd fly off the handle, but this week it feels like you can breathe a bit better.Â
âI think Iâm doing pretty okay. It helped to know he cheated, it makes me miss him sixty percent less. The other forty makes me feel pathetic.â May frowns with empathy, âmy college boyfriend cheated. Betrayal and hurt is a weird feeling when mixed with love.âÂ
You laugh, âyeah, it really is.â May clears her throat, âPeterâs in his room, he may be busy with some homework.â You thank her and move down the hallway, the plastic bag follows, half of you hopes it rips because itâs what he deserves.Â
You knock and wait for his response, grunting when you swing the trash bag over the threshold and let it drop. âI have an odd request for a man.â Peter seems surprised to see you for a second, then looks at the bag and back at you. He seems a bit more weary.Â
âUh huh.âÂ
âIâm getting rid of his things and Nat had to dip, wanna come with?â You follow up with a wince, âIâm sorry, this is super weird and out of place.â
Peter shrugs, âif it helps, it helps. And if youâre serious, Iâll go with you.â You take a deep breath, healing and growing isnât always comfortable. âFuck it, letâs donate some shit.âÂ
You feel like you stand straighter walking out with Peter behind you, heâs carrying the dead weight and you feel accomplished. May has a raised eyebrow, you hold out your hand and settle her curiosity.Â
âDonât worry, justice is about to be served.âÂ
May grins at her nephew's soft smile, sheâs seen and heard about you more in the last two weeks than she has in the last nine years. âItâs sounding a lot more like twenty percent.âÂ
The moment things started turning south was at the donation center. You werenât even standing super close to Peter, or radiating an aura that even suggested he was anything more than a conveniently close acquaintance. But the volunteer at the front thought differently.Â
âAw, I wish more young couples came in, it always seems to brighten up the place!âÂ
You feel like a force of wind caught you breathless, every inch of you froze on the spot. When she says couple you think of him, but youâre not a couple anymore. When she says âcoupleâ you feel your heart encapsulate with rubble, the idea of him makes you feel sick.Â
You donât think you could ever love again.Â
Especially not with Peter, not even when he shies away with pink cheeks and tries to shrug her comment off. Itâs not worth the awkwardness of announcing youâre not a couple, you both know youâre not, and she doesnât really care if you were or not.Â
âWe were just in the mood to donate today,â he plays it off well. You chew on your lip and watch him fill out the donation slip, itâs second nature for Peter to take care of you, it was something he mostly failed at.Â
Before the attendant can take the bag, Peter stops her by hovering his hand over it, he turns his neck and makes eye contact. âAre you sure you want to do this?âÂ
Your heart pounds, threatening to crack the rock.Â
âIâm sure.â Because, you really are.Â
Peter smiles, âany last words?â You try to think of something, nothing comes to mind other than a blur of frustration and confusion. Raising your hand you give it the middle finger, Peterâs laughing at your blank face, âcâmon, you know you wanna double it.â You do, so you did.Â
It feels freeing, youâre not healed but you donât have a daunting weight on your shoulders anymore. A satisfied smile spreads, your hands drop for a second before Peterâs high-fiving you. Youâre tucked under his arm after saying his thanks to the confused volunteer, bumping your hip against his and caged in his hold you feel safe. Safer than youâve ever felt.Â
A crack in the rocks, your heart thumps wildly when he drags you opposite from where you came. âLet me buy you a hawaiian.âÂ
Peter is pretty. You could admit it. Never out loud, but youâd admit it silently. Heâs on fire tonight, keeping you laughing and talking. Heâs a perfect story teller, he has a way of pulling you in. Heâs charismatic and throws himself into every role, voices and body movements.
Your chin is resting on your hand while you focus on every word of his, entranced in his excitement. A lamp hanging over your mini booth makes him look a tad yellow, but his eyes shine brighter than all hell, you never knew brown eyes could suck you in for hours.Â
For a second your mind blips and you truly canât remember his eye color. But you know theyâre nothing like Peterâs.Â
You forget to react, because Peter cut himself off and waved his hand in front of his face. You blink alert, he has a very charming smile, you look at a table of older women. âYou good? Felt like you were trying to look into my soul.â
You canât stop it, it's a knee jerk reaction and the moment you say it you regret it.Â
âYour eyes are very pretty.â You wonât stop looking at a slice of mozzarella on a grandmaâs plate. Peter hums, nodding his head like he understands, âso you werenât trying to sacrifice me, you just got lost in my very pretty eyes.â
The crack splinters, a chunk falls off. You meet his eyes, heâs not making fun of you. You sit straighter and reach out to steal a piece of pepperoni from his slice, acting like youâre not blatantly flirting with ease.
âI just havenât noticed them before I think.âÂ
Peterâs quiet for a moment, his arms are crossed on the table, fingers tap on his elbows.Â
âWell, Iâm glad you are now.â Itâs a little too much, heâs not allowed to entertain you back, he could hurt you too.Â
You clear your throat, âI need to ask you something.â Peter stops tapping, itâs like heâs been waiting on you to say it. âYeah, anything.âÂ
You lean forward a little, âdid you tell my mom about the party last year?â He looks slightly disappointed that was your question, ânope.â Your eyes narrow, âIâd rather us not start a friendship built on lies.âÂ
Peter lights up, âfriendship?â A displeased expression was shared, âthin ice, Parker.â He seems a bit more determined to tell the truth this time.Â
Peter sits up and interlocks his fingers, âI promise I didnât tell her. Mr. Harrington did. And I know how much you like him and I thought you would stop going to see him if you knew and heâs super old so I just kinda⊠let you believe it was me.âÂ
Your heart breaks free, itâs loud and pumping and itâs making you feel alive. A sense of urgency to do something to him makes you itch, you have to pull your hands to your lap. In that second, for whatever reason, all you want is to feel his skin on yours.Â
Heâd be willing to do anything for you, even at the cost of you hating him.Â
âYouâre the most selfless person I know and itâs kind of insufferable.â Peter rolls his eyes, âjust admit you like me, god.â Your breath stutters, but you move right past it.Â
âYeah, yeah, yeah, keep talking about the petting zoo.âÂ
Peter jumps back into character, âalright, so Iâm down on-â
For the first time in weeks you slept through the night, until three am. You woke up on your own, a mental alarm had you looking out for him. After you hear the comforting chorus of movement, you hide under your pillow and go back to sleep.
Your world is falling apart. You were on the track to healing, each piece of your heart was slowly mending back together. Until news of Natalie Greene going out of town hits, you collapse to your bed with an arm over your eyes. Facetime carries her into your room.
âWhy couldnât your grandma die next month?â She nods her head, folding a tank top to drop it into her carry on. âSo true, she shouldâve known you were having a crisis.â You nod, âitâs so hard knowing the world doesnât revolve around me.âÂ
The room goes quiet as she moves around and packs. You contemplate telling her, you didnât want a spectacle and you didnât even know if or what you wanted from Peter. But damn if you hadnât been thinking about it for days. You wonder if sheâs picked up on the hints, youâd been relying on her less and less.Â
âAre you going to hang with Peter while Iâm gone?â Your mind flashes to him, the past few nights heâd sent you a few videos that he thought youâd like. And you did, even if he didnât know you as deeply as he has until recently, he still makes you feel seen.Â
He would send you things he found funny.Â
Peter sends you things he knows youâd find funny.Â
âMaybe. He buys me pizza so heâs cool to have around, I guess.â Natalie Greene snorts, âand Iâm sure he makes fun of your pineapple.â It feels like your heart shines, âno, actually. He gets it.â Your eyes flash to the top of the screen, a text from Peter pops up, you waste no time hitting the notification.Â
âWanna come have some brownie cookies?âÂ
You bite your lip, rising from your bed you shuffle into your slippers. âHey, Nat, I gotta go. Iâm really sorry about your grandma.â She rolls her eyes, âshe was super old and I didnât really know her, itâll be cool to see my cousins though.âÂ
âHave fun on the trip!âÂ
A wicked grin, âhave fun with Peter.â You donât even fight her on it, she knew exactly what you were doing.Â
Your knuckles tapped on the door, it was opened in seconds. Peter had a glow like youâve never noticed, he only got more and more pretty. A smile stretched across his face, you love how it always meets his eyes.
âHi.âÂ
Your slippers softly scrape the wood floors when you enter, âhi.â Peter gestures you towards the kitchen, and for whatever reason, you reach behind you and tug him along.Â
âOkay, okay, so what did she say?âÂ
Your legs swing on the counter, mumbling between mouthfuls of the dessert fusion youâre fully invested in Peterâs story. He had caught Mrs. Hopkins and the chef that lives on floor two in an argument, and it turns out Mrs. Hopkins was the complex's porch pirate.Â
Peter swallows his own bite, âshe asked me to back her up! And I was all like, âhell no, you stole my auntâs juicer.ââ You gasp, ânot Mayâs juicer.â Peter holds a finger up, ânah, I caught her red handed. She was so pissed and on the spot she snapped at me like, âit wasnât a juicer, it was a butter dish.âÂ
You slap a hand over your mouth, âoh no.â Peterâs eyebrows raise, turning his back to grab a glass of milk. âI wish you couldâve seen the look on her face when she realized she told on herself, it was awesome. She was spewing shit all the way to the elevator.âÂ
Finishing your treat your tongue feels thick, holding out a hand in a silent request for a swig of his milk. Peter looks between your hand and his glass, he looks weary.Â
âAre you sure you wanna drink after me? I figured youâd be scared of my cooties.â You motion for the cup, he passes it over and you wrap your palms around the glass.Â
âOh, you absolutely have boy cooties, they just become non-contagious at puberty.â Peter runs his tongue over his teeth, âI think I forgot that lesson, what else can I expect from puberty?â You laugh on a gulp of milk, âtrust me, Parker, puberty hit you like a bus.Â
He steps closer, you set the glass down next to you.Â
âIs that a good thing?âÂ
You look over his face, heâs got a defined bone structure but soft features. A boyish charm coats over him, itâs just enough of a hint of innocence you beg he never loses it. Itâs a no brainer, he was attractive, your eyes flash to his mouth, itâs a wild instinct and you try your best to shake it off.Â
âYes. Iâd say puberty was very kind to you.â Peter takes another step, âhow so?â Pretending to think about it, like you werenât already, you take a second to respond. You donât notice him taking another step.Â
âWell, you have a nice jawline.â Peter tilts his head slightly, âis that all?â Youâre not sure what it is, but thereâs an undertone and it fills you with excitement.Â
âAnd very nice curls.âÂ
âI donât think that has anything to do with puberty.â You suppose heâs right, âyouâre taller than me now.â You had an inch on him when you were kids. Peterâs suddenly right in front of you, âespecially now.â He has to look down at you while you blink up at him from the counter, âyeah, youâre like a giant.âÂ
Your mind betrays you, his lips are unnaturally pink, they look like theyâre the right amount chapped. âAnything else?â Youâre struggling, all you can think about is him but you canât follow a train of thought.Â
âYou smell really good,â you take a deep breath when his hands rest on either side of you, heâs caging you in and everything builds with anticipation, you fight the urge to pull him in. âYouâre just complimenting me now.âÂ
You shake your head, âdo you know how many teenage boys smell bad?â Itâs not your fault, heâs so close his scent has invaded your senses, you wanted to inhale him until you turned blue.Â
âOne more.â You try to think, heâs making it very hard. It takes a second but you have one, proud to have pulled it from the chamber, a sly grin takes place.Â
âYou-â Lips on yours, it happened so fast you couldnât catch up. Mind spinning when you realize Peter Parker was kissing you, you know you should shove him off, but it feels right. Itâs over as quick as it started.Â
You just got out of a relationship, one that tugged you to one of the lowest points of your life so far. Itâs not lost on you when you werenât the one to pull away, but youâre the first one to comment on it.Â
âYou shouldnât have done that.â You werenât mad, you were warning him, he doesnât know what lies ahead.
âBut I really wanted to.â His eyes keep looking you over, was he expecting you to scream?Â
Itâs dangerous territory, your voice feather soft when it comes out. âAnd do you want to again?â Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea.
It felt like the air went still in the room, everything slowly melted into the background until it was only you and him. The quiet hum of the air conditioner faded into silence, the scene music from a movie on the tv in the room behind you diluted to nothing.Â
It was just you and Peter, and he was getting closer. It was achingly slow, you know what heâs doing, heâs giving you a chance to escape. Bail before it became too real, but has he thought about the possibility of you leaning closer?Â
What are you doing?
His lips hovered over yours, when you closed your eyes he took it as permission.Â
Youâd always heard of the fireworks, that kisses are like explosions of happiness. And they were, and you loved them, but there were no fireworks. At least with him.Â
With Peter, your entire sky brightened. Little prickles of electricity dolly chained up your spine, an explosion of color in your mind. It made you starving and whole in one touch, his body made to fit against yours perfect.Â
You wonder if he has the same feeling, you think he does when his hand cups your face, the other one tugs your hip so you fit him better. Itâs bold of you, but when you feel that entranced you donât know how to stop. Your tongue swipes on his bottom lip, itâs very clear he doesnât know what to do.Â
You pull away for air, Peterâs pupils blow wide before looking at the floor. His head feels like itâs spinning, the girl heâs always wanted, wants him right back. Peter feels very aware of his surroundings, how hard his heart is pounding, how youâre holding him to you, how youâre tracing his bottom lip with your thumb, how youâre leaning back in, how heâs holding you into him.Â
You take the lead, itâs slow but you build his confidence, heâs a quick learner.Â
In minutes youâre nearly laid back on the kitchen counter, youâre about to suggest he takes it to his bedroom, but the thought of breaking away from his kiss keeps you stationary. Peterâs locked to you too, your legs hooked around his waist, keeping him as close as he could get.Â
All you can think is Peter, Peter, Peter.
He claims he doesnât know much, but it feels like heâs intune with your body. Peter matches you perfectly, you never knew a makeout session could bring so much tension. A moan pulls from the back of your throat when his thumb peeks under the cotton of your shirt.Â
Peter breaks the kiss, little huffs of air billow from your mouth while he kisses down the side of your neck. When he finds the spot that makes you squirm he nibbles gently, a hand tangled at the back of his hair lets him know heâs doing something right.Â
Especially when you arch into his touch as his hand confidently slides under your shirt, digging his fingers into the plush skin over your ribcage. âFuck, Peter,â itâs breathy and eggs him on, he wants to hear nothing but that for the rest of his life.Â
Caught up in the moment neither of you heard the door, or noticed the third person in the room, until shock spewed from their mouth.Â
âOh, wow!âÂ
Peter rips himself away, his instinct is to hide your face into his chest. Youâre grateful, it saves the embarrassment of looking his aunt in the eye after she watched you fold under his hands. Peterâs mind is racing, his only priority was keeping you comfortable.
Fuck, he kisses so sweet. Shut up! Â
âHey, May. Get anything good at the farmers market?âÂ
Blatant ignorance and casual conversation was the route he took, and it seemed to have worked. Cloth bags hit the counter, you stay hidden, Peterâs hand pressed into the back of your head. Heâs sturdy, your head lays perfect on his sternum, it was made for you. No, stop.
âYes! I got more of that european bread we really liked.â As much as you would like to be ignored, May wouldnât let you. A pat on your knee sent your arms curling around Peterâs waist, he tried his best to settle the clench of his heart.Â
Fits perfect, fits perfect, fits-
âYouâd love it, itâs roasted garlic, real pieces too!âÂ
It may be rude to ignore the owner of a home, but you werenât looking at her for another ten lightyears. At least you give a muffled response into Peterâs chest, âsounds good.â May giggles a little, you hear the fridge open and rustling.Â
âAre you gonna hide from me forever?âÂ
If Peter could play pretend, so could you. You pushed him away softly, âPeter made brownie cookies.â May raises an eyebrow, directing her attention towards her nephew. âEver since that first plate of cookies Peterâs been baking like itâs his job.âÂ
Heâs perfect.
âYou made the cookies?â Peter had told you May did, youâre sure of it. He nods quickly, âI figured if I told you, youâd think they were poisoned.â
You want his touch, you want him pressed into you again. This has to stop.
Itâs dramatic, but youâll bite. âSmart boy.â Peter has a gleam in his eye, âI really am.âÂ
May knows when sheâs third wheeling, she makes an excuse to move to the living room, Peter nods towards his room. You accept his hand down and look behind you at the door. He was frustratingly magnetic, you wanted to do nothing more than fall into bed and stay forever attached to his lips.Â
It was a new rush of feelings, most of them new and almost dangerous. You wanted to explore and learn and take some of Natalie Greeneâs advice and grow. But more than wanting, you knew you had to leave.Â
You were still healing, and if it hurt this bad with him, where nothing felt like this, you canât imagine the burn this could leave.
âI should go,â you canât look him in the eye, heâd suck you back in. Youâd never be able to leave, you have to leave.
âIs this because of May? Cause we can leave and..â You shake your head fast and take a step back, heâs too kind, too understanding, too new and thrilling and, and⊠loving. You donât deserve him or what he brings, you canât bear the imagination of what his heartbreak would feel like.Â
âNo, not May.â There was only one thing that kept you from him before, you were still pulling the same childish tricks. Something about Peter Parker caused you irrational terror.Â
âI told you, you shouldnât have done that.âÂ
Peter tries to look at you, you take another step back. âYou asked if I wanted to do it again.â He canât use logic, it wonât work here. âThat didnât mean do it again.âÂ
âYou sure? Cause it really seemed like you wanted me to do it again.â You feel choked for air, heâs backing you into a corner.Â
âYou understood wrong. I need to leave.â Your footsteps paused when Peter called out your name, a timid look over your shoulder made him continue.Â
âDonât do this. I know what youâre doing, and it doesnât end well for either of us. Weâre not eight anymore.â Your game was called, you didnât want to do this, you donât want to be mean. Why did he have to make you do this to him?Â
âDesperation isnât a good look on you.âÂ
Peter crosses his arms over his chest, his tongue swipes over his top teeth before poking out his cheek. âOf course it isnât.â Youâre very aware that he expected this to happen, he expected you to push him away and close the gates. If he did, then he shouldnât have kissed you. He brought this on himself.Â
âNothing is.â Whatâs a final blow if only to tie the bow on no future contact? Peter took a deep breath and gives you the escape you were looking for, âIâll see you later.â You shake your head, âno, you wonât.âÂ
The hallway is cold and so is your heart. Removing Peter as a potential threat didnât do much, somehow you think it feels worse than what it would be like to love and then lose him.Â
Too bad he wasnât worth the risk.Â
You knew dinner was going to be awkward. You did your best to get out of it but it was deemed impossible, you were about to gouge your eyes out of your head just for a solid excuse. But your mom said that you werenât allowed to do that. So you didnât.Â
Peter on the other hand, looked like he was having the time of his life. Especially when May shot you a wink across the table when he reached over your plate. You threatened your eye with a fork, your mom gave you a nasty glare.Â
âButter, please?âÂ
You cross your arms and scoff, âget it yourself, penis.â Your mom gasped out your name, appalled you would say something like that. She told you to look him in the eye and apologize, using his real name. Peter showed no reaction, chewing on a buttered biscuit.Â
âIâm sorry for calling you a penis, Peter.â It was the least authentic apology heâs ever heard.Â
âAw, let them be kids, theyâre in love.âÂ
Your knife hits your plate so hard it chips, Peter chokes on his bite, crumbs fall from his mouth as he tries to speak as fast as he can. âNo, no, May⊠no.âÂ
You feel the walls closing in, the more you run from it, the more itâs announced. You canât win. Itâs brutal silence on your end, youâre shutting down into a shell of a human.Â
âOh? I thought after-âÂ
Peter has your back. âAfter we made pizza? It was one time, May. It wasnât like I planned it, it just happened. We were hanging out and I just really wanted pizza and I didnât really stop to think if she wanted pizza, I just made it.âÂ
May plays right along, and asks you directly. âDoes that mean youâre not coming over for pizza anymore?â Does that mean youâre not dating my nephew anymore?
Peter already knows the answer, he just wonders if itâs different if his aunt asks.Â
âThe last pizza I had burned to a crisp in the oven and it tasted really, really bad. And if that was a pizza I thought I loved, I canât imagine how bad it wouldâve been if it was my favorite.âÂ
Your mother has never seen you so passionate about pizza. May quirks an eyebrow, she looks at Peter while she asks.Â
âYou donât trust Peter in the kitchen?âÂ
Youâre doing your best to ignore Peterâs eyes on the side of your face, youâre trying to pretend youâre not being vulnerable.Â
âHeâs the only person who could burn it all down.âÂ
May clicks her tongue, sheâs more focused on cutting up her dinner. âFor what itâs worth, as Peterâs aunt, heâs a great chef. He takes his time in the kitchen, he doesnât mind waiting for the yeast to bloom. Because when the dough is ready, heâs really gentle at scooping it up and helping it turn into whatever it needs to be.âÂ
You turn to Peter, he gives a shy smile. âYouâre not scared of burning yourself?âÂ
A shrug, âItâs a precaution you take each time you cook, but from what Iâve learned, burns heal.âÂ
âScars donât.âÂ
Peter tilts his head, âthey fade over time, donât they?âÂ
May speaks up, sheâs looking right at you. It goes past the depth of high school love, it goes to the deepest mark one could leave on a heart. A lover lost too soon.Â
âThey do.âÂ
WEEK FOUR
Peter Parker has been on your mind for four days, (and nights,) straight. Each morning you wake at 3:02 and hear his muffled metronome. Youâve gotten avoiding him down to a T. The first morning you woke up early to watch him leave, then planned a ten minute window in case he was running late one day, and left around that.Â
Youâve been successful so far. But there was an underlying tug that wanted to be caught, you wanted him to hold you close to him and tell you that he wasnât going anywhere and nothing safe is worth the risk.Â
Is that why you let yourself be caught by him this morning?Â
âGood morning,â it was shot over his shoulder while he locked the door. You grumbled out to him, Peter doesnât mind you didnât use words, you were directing expression towards him and thatâs enough. âWanna walk together?âÂ
The idea sends flutters to the middle of your stomach, a brief image of his hand in yours while your hip bumps against his every so often and you laugh at whatever he tells you takes over your mind. âIf you want to walk near me while we go to the same location, thatâs on you.âÂ
Peterâs hot on your heels down the steps, âthatâs a total yes.â You ignore him and try to subtly shut the main door on him, it doesnât work. âHow have you been?â Walking faster, you hope he catches the hint. Peter matches pace perfectly- damn him and his puberty bus and his big strides.
âPersonally, I have been mourning the loss of my favorite neighbor coming over.â Peter blinks at the side of your face while carrying a grin. âI mean you, by the way. In case you needed that hint.âÂ
âGot it. Thanks.â You know you need to pick a side, but something in you wonât let you ignore him.Â
âWelcome. You know, if youâre free, youâre invited for dinner tonight.â You pout sarcastically, âtell May Iâll miss her presence.â Peter bumps your arm, you feel like dropping to your knees. âShe keeps asking about you, Iâm running out of excuses.âÂ
You scoff, âexcuse what? You can tell her the truth, penis.â Peter almost loses you when you swerve around a strangerâs shoulder, in one second heâs next to you again. âAnd what would the truth be?âÂ
âYou pushed yourself onto me,â you stare at Peter in shock when your wrist was grabbed tightly, you came to a stop on the sidewalk with him. He maneuvered to stand in front of you, noticing every inch he had on you; it seemed like his playful mood vanished.Â
âHey, I was just messing with you, okay? I thought you just didnât want to talk about it, but pushing myself on you is the last thing I want you to think I did. If I made you uncomfortable, Iâm really sorry.âÂ
Your features softened, your words sent him into a shame spiral. It was annoying how upset he looked with himself, even if you had to swear him off forever, you didnât want him to think he sexually harassed you.
âI was kidding, Peter. I donât think you pushed yourself onto me, you gave me the option to back out and I pulled you in. Iâd just rather never speak or think about it ever again.âÂ
A weary smile, âthat bad, huh?â You pulled your coat tighter around your chest, the cold making the tip of your nose numb. âQuite the opposite, really.â Before you could fall into temptation and kiss him in the middle of the city, you pulled away to keep heading towards school.Â
âCan I ask what that means?â You nod, âsure.â You offer up no more explanation.Â
âWell?â You look at him for a second, âoh, sorry. You can ask all you want, doesnât mean Iâll tell you.âÂ
âYouâre gonna inflate my ego, youâre telling me it was so good you canât put it into words.âÂ
You give him a side eye, âI wasnât aware there would be so much talking when I allowed you to walk next to me.âÂ
âThatâs not denialâŠâ His cadence was sing-songy.Â
âYouâre in denial.âÂ
Peter shook his head confidently, âIâm not in denial, I am very okay with the fact I like you.âÂ
You came to a halt. Heâs not allowed to feel this way, he doesnât know what it could bring. Has he not seen what love can do to a person? Has he not watched you crumble into a thousand pieces over and over throughout the weeks?Â
And why did his confession turn every piece of rubble into stained glass?Â
Peterâs not allowed to like you because reciprocation leads to temptation which bleeds into dating where it comes to a crashing end in heartbreak.Â
You tried to put on a serious face, but you know Peter sees the mask. âDonât.â Pointing a finger at his chest, âdonât say that, donât think that, and sure as shit donât act on it.âÂ
Peter must think youâre joking because he pushes your hand down before lightly laughing. âDonât act on it? I already did.â Is that what he did? Did he plan that moment? You thought it was a spur of the moment thing, but maybe heâs been planning it for weeks.Â
How long has he liked you?Â
It doesnât matter. Youâll be the adult and end it before it can start, he doesnât know what this can do to a person. You can do it nicely, or at least try. Maybe heâd find it more sincere if it comes from the heart.Â
âPeter, have you ever had your heart broken? Like, really broken? Because I wouldnât put that on my worst enemy. Itâs a type of emotional pain that turns physical, I mean, have you ever been so heartbroken you throw up? Have you ever been so sad you donât eat for days? Have you ever cried so hard you almost fainted? Itâs shit, Peter.âÂ
âBut was it worth it?âÂ
Did he not hear anything you just said? âWhat does that mean?âÂ
Peter adjusts the strap of his backpack, âyou loved him, right?â You donât need to give an answer, he already knows it. âDo you regret it? Even with the heartbreak, did that undo all the good that came out of it all?âÂ
You lick your bottom lip, itâs been a circulating thought. Love opened up doors you didnât know were closed, in the end it was a beautiful tragedy. But thatâs the worst part, with Peter you donât know what it would feel like. Youâve only had a glimpse and it tells you that itâs something thatâs going to change you forever.Â
If Peter leaves, if Peter cheats, itâll kill you, itâd be nothing like when he did it and you canât take the gamble.Â
It was worth it with him, he made you grow. With Peter youâd take ten steps back and never be the same.Â
âThere isnât always a silver lining, Peter.â You refuse to answer.Â
âSo, what, youâre never going to fall in love again?â Peterâs matching your pace again, you canât wait until youâre in the four safe walls of Midtown.Â
âNo, I just canât fall in love with you.âÂ
âCanât is a funny word choice.âÂ
âWonât.â You exhale sharply, âI wonât fall in love with you.âÂ
Peter has no interest in your claim, âitâd be easier if you just said you didnât like me, but youâre not.âÂ
You donât have to answer, you can choose to ignore him entirely and youâll be doing just that.Â
âI donât like this conversation anymore and Iâm ending it.â It works, only for twenty seconds, but it worked until Peter thinks he has a brilliant idea.Â
âBreak up with me.âÂ
Your steps slow, his did the same. Peterâs hands were tucked in his jacket pockets, the urge to kiss him breathless unmeasurable. You fight past it, âhuh?âÂ
âYou said I donât know real heartache, so I want you to break up with me. Right here.â Heâs entirely way too amused for you, even the idea makes you feel sick.Â
âIâm not going to break up with you, Peter. I canât get another tardy slip.â You keep walking, Peter hopped to keep up. âTen seconds, just end it.âÂ
âNo.âÂ
âCâmon, itâll be easy. Dump me and break my heart.âÂ
âWeâre not dating. I canât dump you, even if I wanted to.â What happened to ending the conversation?Â
You hear the smirk when he speaks. âIf.â
âIâm not playing your word games, Peter.â Because youâre not.Â
A laugh, âthen break up with me.âÂ
You thought he was supposed to be smart. How has he not gotten any of this, does he think itâs a joke, does he think youâre playing? Peter has no idea what this means, but you do.Â
Tugging at his elbow, you stop him in his tracks. Staring into his eyes and daring yourself not to get lost, you try to make things extremely clear. âI canât break up with you, Peter. I barely made it through him. I wouldnât know how to handle losing you. Youâd hurt me too bad and I canât take that risk.âÂ
Peterâs voice is soft when he answers, you want to close your eyes and have it carry you to heaven. âI canât break up with you either. Youâd be able to hurt me just as bad.â It takes you from your trance, âyou would. Because Iâm a bad girlfriend. If I wasnât he wouldnât have replaced me before he could end it.âÂ
Peterâs eyebrows pull together, you stuff your hands into your coat pockets to keep from smoothing them out. âHey, woah, letâs pause there. You did nothing wrong. Even if you were a bad girlfriend, and trust me, you werenât, that would never justify him doing that to you. Nothing could.âÂ
Itâs nice of him, but he doesnât know that. âWe didnât talk, you donât know I wasnât a bad girlfriend.â Peter scoffs, like the idea of you calling yourself a bad girlfriend offends him personally. âHe made you cry all the time,â the words followed by your name. âBad girlfriends donât cry, bad boyfriends make their good girlfriends cry.âÂ
Peter heard you. Every time you cried, every time you felt unloved, every time you sobbed out an âIâm sorryâ for something you didnât know you did. He listened, Peter listened like you did each night. How did you never notice the universal gimmick?
If you think back, most of the bad moments were at the hands of him. And for Peter to notice when you were worlds away from his person, makes your heart wrench inside your chest. You know you already drew the line and thereâs no crossing it, but itâs nice living in a moment make believe.Â
âYouâd never be able to call me babe.â It was a shitty pet name. You never liked it.Â
You get flashed with a toothy grin. âThatâs okay, I have a million to choose from.âÂ
Or the obvious hang up, âMay would totally hate me too, she knows Iâll take your virginity.â Peter waves you off, âwe donât know that.â You quirk an eyebrow, âwe donât?â Peter corrects himself, âshe doesnât have to know that.âÂ
You chuckle from the back of your throat. âBut she will. You wouldnât be able to hide it. I definitely wouldnât be able to hide it.â Peter looks down for a second, you follow his gaze, you wonder if youâre both zoned in on a black skid on the side of his shoe. âWhatâs that supposed to mean?âÂ
âI donât know. Itâs like, you just get a lot more⊠touchy, I guess. Nothingâs off limits anymore.âÂ
A monotone reply, âyeah, that sounds like a total nightmare.âÂ
It gets too real. Make believe time is over, now you have to be an adult and stick to your guns.Â
âIt wouldnât work between us, Peter.â
You feel sad, thereâs no good answer and both of you would be left with a bruise. He wanted more than youâd let yourself give and you wanted more than youâd let yourself have. Peter was right, you could hurt him just as bad, and youâd never forgive yourself.Â
Peter made himself a constant, someone you could really rely on the last few weeks, and if you lose that you donât know how youâd ever be okay again.Â
âIf you think so.â His kind smile doesnât meet his eyes. Itâs a quiet journey the rest of the way, both of you receiving a tardy slip and parting ways in the hall without a word or glance.
Peter Parker had gotten his wish. You just broke his heart.Â
This was all Natalie Greeneâs fault. If she wasnât stuck states away at a funeral she wouldâve held you accountable and used every means necessary to stop you from going to Peterâs.Â
It could also be Peterâs fault. He shouldâve never kissed you like he did, he shouldâve never made your heart beat with purpose and left a sear where he touched. Doesnât he know you could never forget it?Â
It also didnât help that you were drunk. Not drunk enough to be slamming into walls and slurring words, but enough to stop that part in your brain to hold you back from the things you truly wanted. Like your neighbor.Â
It had been three days of nothing and that wasnât Peterâs choice. He respected your decisions too much. If you didnât want him in your life, he wouldnât be. Doesnât he know that just makes you want him more?Â
Peter wasnât at the party, you didnât expect him to be, but you were a little hopeful heâd surprise you and show up. He didnât. But that didnât mean he wasnât on your mind with each shot you took, or when you stopped for pizza with a group of friends, when everyone teased you for pineapple but you knew Peter wouldnât.Â
You grabbed him a slice of pepperoni without thinking. Or maybe you were. It was an excuse to talk to him, to see him, to touch him. You could take it home and reheat it in the morning, or you could lean into your excuse of a few too many and knock on his door.Â
Itâs Peterâs fault. He really shouldnât have kissed you like that, he doesnât understand his power.Â
Harsh banging. Itâs over your head how late it is, you have important things to do. Like, lay over his body in his bed like you kiss down his neck, or squirm with harsh whimpers when he kisses down yours. You bet he likes to cuddle too, he never did, but Peter seems like he couldnât get enough of you.Â
If you couldnât date Peter you could use him as a rebound, right?
Faster knocking, why isnât he answering? At your loudest, the door opens. He was sleeping, you could tell by the puffy eyes but you didnât look at his face too long, no, Peter was in nothing but a pair of boxers.Â
When the fuck did he get so toned? You wouldâve reached out for a light graze, but he stopped you.Â
âYouâre so lucky Mayâs on overnight duty.â No, youâre lucky because heâs half naked and sleepy, youâve never seen anyone so tempting. It feels like youâre dying and only he could save you.Â
You canât help it, your palm connects with his chest, itâs there longer than a second. Itâs less about pushing him aside and more about touching him, and he knows that. Peter talks at a normal volume for the hour, âwhat are you doing here?âÂ
Your thumb traces his collarbones, âI brought you pizza.â Your breath skips when he turns his head to the side to check the time on the microwave in the kitchen, his jawline ultra toned.Â
âAt one in the morning?â Peterâs amused, you donât think he wouldâve ever been so kind if you disrupted his sleep. You nod, âI was thinking of you.â You raise the small box, just as proof as you really did get him a slice.Â
Peter takes it with a smile. âThanks, kid.â You donât know why, but you really like that one.Â
âCan I come in?â If he thought all you wanted was to share a midnight snack, he was terribly mistaken. The door widened in response, you made sure to brush against his side, he said nothing. Â
Following him into the kitchen, you have a flashback. Itâs one you want to reenact, maybe if you sit in the same spot heâll catch the drift. A blue wave of light washes over him when his snack is stored for morning, he looks angelic.Â
You donât think youâve ever been this fascinated with him.Â
âNow I understand all the song references about refrigerator lights.â Peter looks over his shoulder, his grin makes you feel like youâre flying. âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â He emerges with two water bottles, cracking the lid on yours and passing it over. His rests on the counter. He doesnât need water but you do and heâs not about to make you feel singled out.Â
You think it might be too late. You think you might already be falling.Â
âI donât know, but I just get it.â Heâs letting you do all the talking, itâs odd, youâre not used to being listened to. If Peter realizes what youâre doing, he says nothing. Maybe you just have to point it out.Â
You gesture to yourself, the real reason you came over finally announced.Â
âDo you see where Iâm sitting?âÂ
Peter nods, âI do.âÂ
Your fingers tap on the countertop, âremember the last time I sat here?â Peter breathes deep, you wonder if heâs thinking about it right now. âI do.âÂ
You wait. He makes no move. Whereâs your kiss?
âWell? Are you gonna do it again?â You pucker for good measure, just in case there was an inkling of uncertainty on his end. Youâre making it clear what you want. A faulty smile, you donât like it one bit.Â
âNo,â at least he sounds sorry about it. But he likes you, he told you himself, why would he deny you? Doesnât he know how much you need this?Â
âWhy not? If you think this is a trick, itâs not. If you want, Iâll kiss you first.â You jump down but youâre held back by a hand, heâs literally pushing you away. Itâs a feeling that causes a tug, you really donât like it.Â
âYouâre drunk,â Peter follows the statement with your name, heâs not mean but heâs also not going to change his mind.Â
You scoff, buzzed would be more accurate. âIâm not drunk.â
âDrunk enough youâre allowing yourself to have this conversation.âÂ
He has a very fair point.Â
âLiquid courage, kiss me?â Peter shakes his head, âyou made it clear nothing would happen, so nothing is going to happen.âÂ
You grin, âconsider it practice then.â Your words make him frown, âyou donât want this.â Who is he to tell you what you do or donât want?Â
âHow do you know I donât want this?âÂ
âBecause this isnât you.âÂ
You feel a tightness in your chest, he doesnât get to think he knows you more than you do. âYou donât know me, Peter. You just have an idea of me.âÂ
âYouâre hurt and confused. I wonât take advantage of that, being mad at me wonât make me change my mind.âÂ
Where was his care coming from? He didnât care about you this much and neither should Peter. It wasnât normal, was it? But itâs also not fair to compare Peter to him at every chance, especially because Peter only ever seems to outshine.Â
âWhy didn't you act like this a year ago?â If he truly cares, where was it before?
âYou mean when you had a boyfriend?âÂ
Is that why he waited until now to be a friend? Did he think youâd be sad and have weak defense, making it easy for him to get first in line? âIs that what it is? You waited until I was dumped to put on this act and lay it on me while Iâm all confused? How long have you had this planned out?âÂ
Your words are like daggers, the things youâre alluding to, he would never do them. Ever.Â
âDonât. Iâve always liked you but you had a boyfriend and the last thing on my mind was trying to get with you when it ended. You were so miserable, I just wanted to be a friend or something, but it changed and maybe a little piece of it was me being selfish. I made the first move, several times. I kissed you, I asked you out, I told you I liked you. And you said no. I respect your no, why donât you?âÂ
You could tell him the truth, tell him that he was right and his love terrified you because you havenât felt something so raw before in your entire life. Peter wasnât yours, or anywhere close to it. It shouldnât be natural to feel magnetized to him.Â
You could tell him the truth, but youâre better at hiding behind false walls.Â
âI liked you better when you didnât care about me.âÂ
âIâm sorry you feel that way.âÂ
He knows youâre lying but he wonât make you admit it, no, heâll push you into your corner of lies until you force your way out with the truth. Peter Parker will not chase you.Â
Would it be wrong to push him so far away he wouldnât let you chase him too?Â
âYou have a superiority complex. Thatâs why you canât find a girlfriend, or any friend really. You think youâre better than everyone else and itâs a natural repellent.â You back up towards the door, you spit words as they come to your mind.Â
âI was willing to do it. I was willing to give you a shot but you ruined it for yourself. Youâre going to look back on this moment and regret it.âÂ
Peter really doesnât care for your dramatics. Itâs impressive he can one, handle it and two, make you check yourself. âRegret not taking advantage of a drunk girl? Is that what youâre insinuating?âÂ
âNo! I just meant that⊠I donât know what I mean, Peter! I donât know anything and youâre not helping in the slightest and everything about you makes me want to fucking cry or scream or, or⊠I donât know.â Your voice trails, itâs the most honest youâve been in weeks.Â
âI donât know anything anymore, Peter.âÂ
Everything youâve ever thought about love has been wrong.
He made you feel flightless. But Peter, Peter made you feel free. Peter made you feel like you were flying at full speed, like the wind washes over your cheeks so harshly youâre in a permanent grin. Youâve never seen the world from this high up, in this much color, itâs never been so beautiful.Â
The flight is amazing, thinking about stopping it hurts you. How would it feel to be on the ground again, to walk around, to be without wings and treetops and colors and wind? How would it feel to be without Peter?Â
Would it feel like an agonizing death?Â
Would your wings ever be patchable again?Â
Questions that make you realize the closer you get to him, the harder youâll hit the ground. Youâre okay with falling, youâre able to brace yourself the best way you can. But will Peter be there to catch your landing?Â
It looks like heâs trying to stop himself from hugging you, itâs a good thing he is. He might be thinking youâd yell or push him away, you think youâd just cry.Â
Peter looks tired, and more than just because you woke him up. You wonder if itâs because heâs up late every other night, you want to ask him about the routine and why he broke it tonight. You wonât.Â
Your back hits the door, there was only one thing you were sure of, it had been a chain reaction since. This was Peterâs fault, heâs the one that kissed you. He started it.Â
âYou shouldn't have kissed me, you really, really shouldnât have. Youâve fucked this all up, penis.âÂ
Peterâs tired of the blame. âYou came here,â he ends it with your name, like heâs pleading.Â
Itâs annoying, at least you tell yourself it is. If you can replace feelings with antonyms youâll trick your brain and youâll be right on track to hating him again and only seeing him as a void object.Â
You open the door, itâs the last time youâll allow yourself to look at his face.
Itâs Peterâs fault.Â
âBecause you made me want to.âÂ
WEEK FIVE.Â
Itâs way too early for the hysteric buzz of a mosquito in your ear, yet, it still sings to you while youâre locking your front door.
âGood morning.âÂ
You nod your head, âpenis.âÂ
And just like that, the mosquitoâs squashed.Â
You yawn so harshly that you rub at your jaw. Youâre unable to sleep and miserable. Youâve tried everything under the moon and stars, nothing worked. Staring up at the ceiling you tried to count sheep but they kept turning into the tiny freckles that dotted over Peterâs cheeks.Â
It wasnât fair to keep thinking about him, youâre doing your part. You cut him out and you decided to hate him. Youâre just finding out that thatâs not how it works.Â
3:02, you hear his window.Â
3:04, your eyes finally get heavy.Â
3:07, youâre dozing off.Â
3:10, youâre asleep.Â
It wasnât fair.Â
Three nights later, Itâs 3:02 in the morning and a window slams shut. This time, it isnât your neighbors. This time, it was your own. You should be scared, but you donât feel threatened, youâre curious. You pull your head from under your pillow.Â
Spider-Man is at the foot of your bed, his shoulder hits the window frame when he pulls his mask off. Heâs racing for air, he looks beat up, a gash crossed over his chest.Â
If you didnât have as much distain as you did, youâd be slightly shocked.Â
âIf you get blood on my carpet, I will fucking kill you.âÂ
Peter must be dizzy, because heâs imagining you in his room.
"Seriously, if you get blood on my carpet I'll have you come over tomorrow and scrub it out with your toothbrush."
Peter tries to swallow, it's hard to do. His head feels like a brick, his hands won't stop shaking.
âHey, pesky pete, I mean it. Get the fuck outta here.â
When he holds his eyes close, then opens them, he still sees you there. Peter looks down at his hands, turning them back and forth. They go in and out of focus, itâs dizzying, at one point he has five hands.Â
He says your name questioningly, itâs hard to get words off his tongue, his brain is moving too slow. âYup, thatâs me. Now get out.â Peter touches his chest, itâs beet red. His shoulder is killing him, he stumbles and slams into the wall- now youâre sitting up in bed.Â
âPeter, are you okay?â Itâs pure worry, the act is dropped for a second, heâs not normal. Heâs not answering, you think heâs trying but he canât bring himself to speak, heâs lagging in real time. One foot hits the floor, the rest of you perched in your bed keeping an eye on his frame.
âPeter.â You need his focus on you.
He presses his hand to his wound, a last ditch effort to protect your carpet. Then, he hits the floor. You jump up, âPeter? Peter, are you okay? Peter,â heâs passed out and tore up to shreds. Every bit of you wants to scoop him into your lap and hold him tight, but instead, you get to work.Â
Peter flies up from the bed gasping for air, his face is cold and wet. The source is your twisted grin above him, a water glass held tightly.Â
âOh, good. Youâre up.â
Peter pats his chest, a blur of last night follows. He sits up in a haste, a tug in his side makes him cradle it, you both wince at the same time.Â
âYeah, I tried doing the best I could, but I wasnât sure if there was something under that.. Or how to take it off. You probably have significant damage.âÂ
âThanks.â His mouth is dry and his voice crackly, it sends a zing up your spine. Peterâs never felt so weak after a rough night, his head is pounding and he can feel the crunch of dried blood under his suit.Â
âCan I get some of that or are you still punishing me?â The only reason you give him the rest of the glass is because you like Spider-Man. He has a job to do, Peter on the other hand, could die of thirst.Â
âYou passed out on me last night.âÂ
Peter chugs the glass, you almost think about getting him another. âI did.âÂ
You nod, âI had to lug you up here, youâre extremely heavy when youâre dead weight.â He almost smiles at the imagery, instead he glances down and realizes you did your best attempt at working on the gashes over his chest and arms through the spandex.Â
Even as he was passed out and rendered useless. You must not hate him as much as you say. It's still nice to know he's not getting special treatment because of who he is, not even Spider-Man could make you like Peter.
âHas anyone ever told you that you have excellent bedside manner?âÂ
âOh no, anything I could do to make it worse?âÂ
âI think another water and some advil might kill me.âÂ
âPerfect, coming right up.âÂ
Peter takes another ten minutes before trying to sit up, âI should go home and shower.â Your hand gently pushes his shoulder back down, âeasy, tiger. May isnât home and youâre not about to turn your shower into a personal slip and slide.âÂ
Before you could regret the words, âif you want a shower, youâre doing it here.â He paused under your touch, scared you made the wrong impression, your eyes widened. âNot with me or anything, I just meant so youâd have someone around.âÂ
Peter doesnât care how it has to get done, he wants the suit and dried blood off him. He nods his head and sits up a little slower before tugging at his neckline. You look away for a minute, unsure where to settle your eyes.Â
âHelp me get my arm out?â Your hands pull at the suit, his arm escapes, itâs covered in small knicks. Itâs a subconscious move, you gently tap the cuts with your thumb. Peering into his eyes you hold a frown.Â
âDoes it hurt?âÂ
Peter feels like you might kiss his marks. âNot really, itâs mostly my side.âÂ
You rub his chest, âyou got a gash right here.â Itâs over his heart.Â
âGuess weâre twinsies now.âÂ
If he wasnât in pain, youâd slap his arm for the comment. Instead, you watch him carefully remove the red and blue until heâs left in his boxers. You do your best to keep your eyes on his face, Peter looks amused.Â
âYouâre trying really hard not to look at me.âÂ
âDonât flatter yourself, Parker.â You offer a hand to pull him up, he accepts. A slow stand, his backâs more defined than his front, you almost bite your fist. Peter has the same shower as you, but you still explain how to use it. And allow him to use your products.Â
âGot it.â The tap is turned on, the water hits against the ceramic. You make no effort to move, instead watching for a moment. Peterâs fingers pull at the waistline of his briefs, your eyes dart right to them.Â
âYou know, this is the part where most people leave.â Itâs teasing.Â
âI just wanted to make sure you got in okay, itâs a high step.â Itâs a quarter of the truth.Â
âIâll be alright, Iâve been doing this alone for a few years.â Peter says it like itâs an inside joke, but it just makes you feel sad. Heâs never had someone to be there for him, or patch up his wounds, or make sure heâs okay to shower. You wonder how many times heâs passed out on his bedroom floor with no one to drag him to bed.Â
âYou okay?â A hand on your skin wakes you back up, clearing your mind of Peter.Â
You nod, it was a flash of empathy. You couldnât imagine what itâs like for him.Â
âIâm just sorry youâve had to do it all alone. It doesnât seem fair, Spider-Man does nothing but take care of other people. He should have someone to take care of him for a change.âÂ
It may sound like youâre insinuating, especially the way he looks at you when he responds.Â
âYeah. Thatâd be nice.âÂ
Seconds tick, itâs getting a little weird, mostly because you want to tackle him into the shower and race your mouth over every inch of skin. You clear your throat, âyou want me to get you anything from your place?â
âSure. Go shopping for me.âÂ
You use the copied key May left for you several years ago when you tended to some plants while her and Peter went on vacation, and it feels weird being in their home alone. Itâs too quiet, the Parkerâs are expressive in everything they do, when they're not around everything lacks passion.Â
Peterâs bedroom is almost the same as it was the last time you were in it, the same furniture but moved around. His posters looked updated and thereâs a few extra awards heâs tucked away, you frown, he should be proud of his achievements and hang them high.Â
A new picture of him and May from last year, you ignore the part of your brain that says he has very kissable cheeks. His closet is clean and heâs made it easy for you to search around, each drawer is dedicated to a different clothing and everything that should be hung up, is.Â
Itâs something you hadnât considered, but a man taking care of his laundry creates an entire new standard.Â
Peter handed over the control when you said to get what you wanted, that means you can dress him how you please. And wouldnât he look yummy in sweatpants and a white shirt? You donât see how he couldnât, itâs the male version of a sundress.Â
Arms full of cotton, you tap at the bathroom door with your foot. You shout over the water, âI have your clothes.â Itâs muffled but you hear him and gently push the door open, a faint outline on the shower curtain suddenly makes you shy.Â
âTheyâre right here,â patting the clothes for good measure. Peter shoots out a âthanks!â and you slowly back out until youâre sitting patiently on your bed, listening closely when the tap turns off. If he goes falling, youâre busting the door down.Â
No struggles, at least not until he emerges. Peterâs fine, but youâre speechless and choked. There was no one you punished but yourself with the outfit, the t-shirt is tight on his arms and the sweatpants hug his hips just right.Â
âI feel human again, thanks, kid.â You turn on manual breathing mode and distantly nod, his biceps are stretching the cotton, you lick your lips subconsciously. âNo problem.â You watch a water droplet fall from his hair to his shoulder, your eyes stay hooked in place, his arms flexed when he dried it with the towel you lended him.Â
âWhere should I put this?â You point to your hamper, if he put it anywhere else youâd be half tempted to sniff it. âDid you tell May I was here?â You nod and finally find strength to talk to him, âyeah. I sent her a text last night, I wasnât sure of her Spider-Man knowledge so it was a little cryptic.â You take a breath and choose honesty, no doubt heâd get a third degree.Â
âI think she interpreted it as us hooking up.â Another breath, âI did not correct her.âÂ
Peter has a boyish smile spread, it squeezes your chest, you want him in your hold more than anything. âNice.â You scream and cheer and thank your lucky stars when he sits next to you. He used your products, but he still smells like Peter. You want to stuff your nose into his shirt and breathe him in until you physically canât.Â
âMay knows, by the way.â You nod absentmindedly, âanyone else?â âA couple friends.â You almost make a quip like âwow, you have friends?â but you really canât find it in you to pretend to hate him anymore. Especially when he almost died on your floor and all you wanted to do was tell him that you were sorry and you were mostly in love with him.Â
âCan I ask a question?âÂ
âShoot.âÂ
âDo the webs come out of you?â Peter lightly laughs, itâs always the same question off the bat. âNo. I make a special web fluid and I have these bracelet kind of things to shoot them out.âÂ
âOh. Cool.â Youâre hiding the burn in your lower stomach at the thought of him over his desk creating a new form of technology. Heâs so fucking smart itâs unfair, heâs too smart for his own good.Â
Heâs grinning at you, âis it?â You canât stop staring at his mouth, âyeah.â Youâd do anything to kiss him again, the last time you truly felt alive was when his lips were on yours. âAny other questions?â Thereâs one. But itâs not about Spider-Man.Â
âNot really.â Your interest could be explored later, right now, all you needed was him. Peter finds it surprising, âI think you are the least curious person to find out about this.â You shrug, shifting your body more towards him. Peter rejected you last time but if you move like he did when he kissed you, if you move in slow for the kill, you might just get your way.Â
âGive me the cliff notes.â Peter starts ticking them off with his fingers, while heâs distracted you move in closer. âBit by a radioactive spider when I was fifteen. Heightened senses plus a cool sixth sense where I can sense danger. Super strength-â You stop listening right there, your eyes are all over his build, no fucking wonder heâs a contender for worlds fittest man.Â
You shuffle in, your knee brushes his thigh, if he notices, he doesnât say anything. You thank the sweatpants, the material too thick to give you away. â-Oh, and I stopped needing my glasses which is pretty cool. I think thatâs pretty much it, but if you want me to expand on anythâŠâ
 Now or never.
You push up and straddle Peterâs waist, his hands immediately hold your hips. You lean down, his grip tightens. Peter mumbles out your name, you answer with a slow kiss. Your fingers drag through his hair, curls wrap themselves around your fingers, you hold them tight. When Peter licks your bottom lip, when Peter takes control, you need to feel every bit of him.Â
Your hands fall down his neck and over his shoulders, then they fall to his arms, your nails lightly drag up the skin. A hum from Peter, your lower stomach clenches, you answer with a roll of your hips, he sighs into your mouth. You drag your palms over his chest, his heart is at the same pace as yours.Â
You break the kiss, both of you breathing fast, it doesnât last. You kiss over his jawline, you canât hold it in, you canât fucking stop yourself. âYouâre so fucking hot,â wet marks are dotted down his neck. âI wanna take you right here, I wanna make you feel so good.â Another grind, this time, Peter moves with you, it pulls a moan from the back of your throat. The favor returned with a hickey at the bottom of his neck, it sent him falling into your hold.Â
Youâre kissing anywhere you can reach, âyou gotta stop,â it comes out in a puff. âYouâre killing me here.â Too bad, not so sad, youâre latched onto his mouth again, this time, you tug at the bottom of his shirt, it takes three times before you realize heâs not catching the hint and you pull it up yourself.Â
You study him when it goes flying, his eyes are more pupil than brown, his lips pouty and pulling a red hue. âLay back,â he does, you lean over him, youâre marking up his collarbones while his hand has a fistful of your hair. Then⊠the kisses get lower, you're grazing over his chest, delicate brushes across the semi-healed cuts, you mustâve blocked out the advanced healing perk.Â
Your hand trails over his side, you soak in the grooves and muscle, your fingers brushing against the waistband of his sweatpants. Peterâs breathing hitches, you keep teasing, then bring your lower body into play. Bumps and grinds have Peter panting in your mouth, you pull back, even as heâs heaving for air, Peterâs trying to follow your kiss.Â
Your fingers slip further under the elastic, holding his gaze when you tell him about your intentions. âI wanna suck you off.â
Thereâs a pause, then he sits up on his elbows.Â
âDoes this mean you want to be my girlfriend?â Does it? You donât think so. You just want him, you want his mouth and his hands and his body intertwined with yours. But to fall into him and have him see all your worst parts, to have him hold your heart between his hands and trust heâd take care of it is too much.Â
âNo.âÂ
Heâs sad. Itâs not just something you think, itâs something you know. Your heart tumbles with his face. You want to hug him, you try, but he tossed you off his lap like nothing.Â
âMay told me to get groceries today, so I should probably head out.â You swallow tightly, youâre not liking how this is sounding. âAre you mad at me?â You feel nothing but shame at his sigh, itâs debilitating when you hear his cutthroat tone. âIâm not a fucking rebound.â But he wanted to be. He wanted this. He wanted you.Â
Peter doesnât use the f word, not ever.
âWhether Iâm your girlfriend or sucking your dick, youâd still be a rebound.â Silence rings around the room. Peterâs voice is tight when he answers you.Â
âIs that all you think of me? Just a rebound?âÂ
You donât know how to be honest with him. You never have. âWould I be wrong?âÂ
âVery.â Itâs clipped. Youâve never heard Peter with an edge and you donât like it. You really donât like being on the other side of his frustration. Heâs only ever been soft and kind with you, you canât handle any more change in your life. You need Peter to keep being Peter.Â
You were so scared of losing him you went and filled his head up with words of affirmation, used your mouth on him, then turned around and shut him down. If this is only a fraction of how it stings when Peterâs upset you donât know if you could handle more. Youâve never felt Peterâs cold shoulder before and it hurts.
âIâm sorry. I didnât mean it.â Itâs bullshit, Peter can sense it too. âYou did.â You chew on your bottom lip, âI did, but not like that.â Peter seems taller than normal when heâs standing over you, you canât look him in the face, itâs nothing but being mortified. You really put your foot in your mouth.Â
âDo you even like me or are you just horny?â You canât allow yourself to answer him.Â
âIâm an idiot.â Your face turns in, Peterâs laughing at himself. âIâm such an idiot. I really thought you liked me. I thought you were trying to fight it but no, that was just me daydreaming.â Youâre looking up at him but heâs already standing at the door with his shirt on and suit tucked under his arm.Â
âYou donât like me. You never did and now Iâm trying to make pieces fit where they donât.â Heâs staring right into your eyes, he says it louder, heâs saying it for himself. âIâm not a rebound.âÂ
âYouâve never been properly loved and it shows.âÂ
And thatâs the most brutal thing he couldâve ever said to you. Your lower lip trembles with the tears pricking at your eyes, he started it and you canât stop it.Â
âI fucking hate you. I hate you so fucking much, Peter.âÂ
No surprises there. âYeah, I know.â He sounds just as defeated.Â
When he leaves you cry harder for Peter than you ever did him, and that says something. But youâre not listening.Â
WEEK SIX.
You finally broke down and told everything to Natalie Greene. She held you in her arms while you cried about losing what you couldâve had. âIâm sure heâll come around babe, he likes you a lot.â You shake your head, ânot anymore. He hasnât answered any of my texts in three days.âÂ
You can at least give yourself the benefit of trying to do damage control. He wouldnât let you. Youâd sent a flurry of texts, each one more apologetic than the next, begging him for a chance to see you but he refused.Â
You think you broke him.Â
âHave you tried talking to him? In person?â You shake your head, he doesnât want to talk to you. You blew everything up and for the first time you really hate it. Two weeks ago you were begging for this but now you just feel terrible.Â
âNat, this is nothing like what I had with him and I donât know what that means.â Your friend hugged you close, âit means you love him more than you ever did him.â You swallow hard, you knew the truth but it was different hearing it.Â
It doesnât matter anymore. You ruined it and Peter wonât talk to you anymore.Â
âYou shouldâve seen the look on his face, Nat. He was fucking crushed. Itâs likeâŠâ You take in a sharp breath, youâve been beating yourself up over it since he walked out. âItâs like I used him.â Natalie Greene doesnât bullshit but sheâs still soft as ever with her response, itâs purred out while her acrylics scratch your back. âYou did.âÂ
Sheâs your best friend. She should be on your side. âBut I didnât! I just-â
âYeah, you did. You knew how he felt about you and you said no so he stopped trying. Then you showed up drunk and threw yourself at him, he said no and you got all butthurt. Then he comes over and somehow passes out on your floor and you offer him a blowjob.âÂ
Well, when she puts it like thatâŠÂ
âOf course heâs going to think you flipped your script, youâre the one who kept pushing after you told him no.â Peterâs words echo in your mind, âI respect your no, so why donât you?â Because you canât allow yourself to have him, thatâs why. But⊠you already do, donât you? Or, you did.Â
âHeâs gonna wreck me, Nat. He already is.âÂ
âBecause youâre fighting it. I get it, babe, Iâve been where you are a dozen times. But you donât get over heartbreak by hiding from love. I know itâs Peter Parker and heâs been your enemy since you were eight, but no matter how fast you try to run, heâs right there matching your stride.âÂ
You sniff into her arm, she smells like lavender and it makes you snuggle further. âI think Iâve always liked him.â You could finally admit it. Natalieâs been there for months, years possibly. âI know. You always talk about him.âÂ
You scrunch your eyebrows, âno I donât.â Natalie thinks you mustâve said a funny joke because sheâs laughing like it. âYeah you do. Sure, it might have been mean things but if you truly hate someone you donât notice everything they do.âÂ
You noticed everything about Peter and made sure to fill Natalie Greene in on the gossip.Â
Like when he cut his hair way too short in middle school and his curls disappeared for months.Â
When he slipped in mashed potatoes in the cafeteria and fumbled until he could steady himself.Â
When his cheeks flamed pink because he forgot to silence his phone during a test and the Game of Thrones theme song blasted through the room as he awkwardly tried to silence the call.Â
Then thereâs the time he stuttered when giving an answer in biology because Lindsey Snipes was twirling her hair at him. A small tug in your stomach, the answer suddenly clear to why youâve always hated her too.Â
And when he bumped a friend's coke all over his notebook and he just watched with an open mouth while all his hard work was ruined.Â
When he stumbled up the steps.Â
When he hit his head with his locker.
When he stepped on his glasses.Â
When he was tackled in flag football.Â
When he tripped over his shoelace.Â
When he got glue in his hair.Â
When he winced while dissecting a frog.Â
When he cracked his phone because he dropped it and a guy on the football team kicked it clear across the cafeteria while he laughed. That one didnât make you laugh. That one made you so angry you made a point to tell Kristina, said player's girlfriend, so she could give him a well deserved tongue lashing. And not the good kind.Â
When he fell asleep at the library and had a red mark on his cheek to prove it.Â
When he spit milk everywhere because the one he grabbed was expired.Â
When, no matter what, each time you met his eyes heâd send you a smile. And how each time there was something that made you want to give it back.Â
âNatalie,â you can hear it in your voice. Itâs dangerous. Itâs terrifying.Â
Itâs worth it.Â
âI think Iâm in love with Peter Parker.âÂ
Natalie Greene and you had carefully conducted Operation: Get Peter Back.Â
Step one: Tell him, (IN PERSON) how you feel.Â
Step two: See above.Â
There were no other steps. Natalie Greene told you thatâs all you could do.Â
One day later you knocked at his door before you could lose the small amount of courage you had, itâs soft enough you hope itâs unnoticeable, you could quit and say you tried. Your heartbeatâs in the bottom of your throat, your palms itch as you rub them over your shirt.Â
A smidge of relief, no one heard you. Youâre about to quietly escape, May doesnât let you off that easily. Sheâs surprised when your name comes from her mouth, you wonder how much she knows. âHi, May. Is Peter home?â Sheâs got a weak poker face, her eyes dart to the side of the door before sheâs smiling sweetly.Â
âSorry, honey. Heâs out with some friends.â You know heâs right behind the wood. You speak up, you want to be sure he hears you too. âCan I leave you with a message?â May stands straighter, she wasnât expecting this. âOf course.âÂ
âCan you tell him Iâm sorry? And that Iâve been way too selfish and mean and a complete and utter fucking bitch to him for no good reason for nine years? Can you tell him that heâs the last person I ever wanted to hurt like this and that I really want to say it to his face?âÂ
May ignores the colorful language and youâre thankful for it. Her eyes trail to the side again, she smiles softly. âIâll let him know.â Thereâs no need, he already knows and you both know it. His answer lies in the fact that heâs allowing May to keep up the charade. You donât know if Peter is bad at forgiveness or just that you donât deserve it.Â
âThanks, May.â You watch the door slowly close, when there's just a crack left you stop it with a hand. âHeâs⊠Heâs okay, right?â Your heart thumped slowly, youâre reading her face like itâs your job, you need to know heâs okay.Â
A tight nod. âHeâs okay.â You can breathe a little better. âGood.âÂ
You stare at his door for another two minutes after it shuts.Â
Is this an asshole move? Yes.Â
Is this worse than what youâve already done? Possibly.Â
Peter still wasnât talking to you and you only had one card to pull. He was home, but he wasnât answering your texts. You think itâs time to fight fire with fire. Youâre standing by his apartment door, and loudly talk into your phone. No oneâs on the other side, but he doesnât know that.Â
âHello? Yes, Iâm looking for J. Jonah Jameson?â Your eyes twitch to his door, nothing. You speak a little louder. âI understand heâs busy. Well I just⊠Uh huh, right, I understand, yes maâam. Is he interested in Spider-Manâs identity?âÂ
You hear something drop inside his apartment.Â
âYeah, I know who Spider-Man is.â Peter swings the door open, your phone is ripped from your hand. He glares down at the screen, youâre not connected to anyone. âThatâs a low move.â You lightly shrug, âdid you expect anything more than that?âÂ
A scoff, âwith you? No.â Your lips twitch, you have to fight the frown. You catch his arm when he turns around, thereâs no trying, heâs an unstoppable force, youâre moving with him. âIâm sorry! Peter, please! Iâm sorry, I am so so sorry and I need you, okay? I need you to not be mad at me.âÂ
Was that honesty? Were you actually being honest with him? Your shoes squeak when he stops pulling you, youâre looking at him desperately searching his face for emotion. There is none. âYouâre not a rebound. Not at all. I shouldâve never called you one.âÂ
Thereâs a lot youâve done to Peter you never shouldâve done. Maybe itâs time you start owning up to it.Â
âI shouldâve never said you were a rebound, I shouldnât have kissed you, I shouldnât have shown up here drunk, I shouldnât have kept coming back for more after I told you no. I shouldnât have ignored you for nine years, I shouldnât have shut you out when I was eight, I shouldnât have hurt you.âÂ
Peterâs not saying anything and you donât mind. You need to say this, you need him to know.Â
âI shouldnât have hurt you. I meant what I told May. Youâre the last person I ever wanted to hurt like this. Youâre Peter. Youâre nice, youâre warming, youâre always positive and you buy me pizza without making fun of me and you sign off on donation slips and you let me rip your notebooks apart and you bake me things.âÂ
You blink through your tears. âYou were there when I really needed you and you are anything but a fucking rebound to me.â Your chest feels tight, âyouâre so good to me, even when I donât deserve it. I really donât deserve it now but I really fucking need you, Peter. I know I went on this whole speech thing where Spider-Man needs someone but-âÂ
âIâm here.â Relief fills you, Peter has you tucked into his chest with his arms around you. âIâm right here, okay?â Itâs the selflessness that really gets you. Youâve been nothing but mean and standoffish but Peterâs hugging you because you need it.Â
But really, itâs because he knows he was right. You do like him. You like him more than youâre willing to admit to him yet.Â
âCan you catch popcorn with your mouth?âÂ
Peter tosses a piece up and catches it with his eyes closed. You grumble and throw your own at him, he also catches that with his eyes closed.Â
âOkay, turn off the powers and try again.â He laughs at you, âit doesnât work like that.â You huff, âwell, make it.â Peter tosses a piece up and dodges it, it satisfies you. âHa. Loser normy.âÂ
âDid you just call me a normy?âÂ
âYouâre just a boring normal person, I hate to tell you, but itâs true.âÂ
Thereâs been a brief pause in the actual relationship aspect of your friendship. Thereâs no more kissing, but youâd really like there to be. You think Peterâs starting to sweat you out and you have no issues with it. If he wants you to make the first move, youâll do it.Â
But itâs all in the timing.Â
âDid I ever tell you that six weeks ago Nat said sheâd do heroin with me?â Popcorn spills on the couch, Peterâs darting his eyes over your arms looking for track marks. âWe didnât do it! She said that if I still felt miserable after six weeks sheâd do it with me.âÂ
âMiserable? What, about the breakup?âÂ
âYeah,â you shove a handful of buttery styrofoam into your mouth. For the first time in weeks it doesnât hurt to talk about. Itâs not even a little sore, thereâs no bitterness or resentment. Thereâs nothing there. Itâs pure indifference.Â
You pushed Peter away because you didnât want him to be a rebound, you didnât want to use him to get over someone else. But you havenât thought of him since⊠since⊠you canât remember the last time you actually thought of him.Â
But when you think of Peter your heart races, your palms feel warm, your stomach flutters. His kisses ignite you. You wake up in the morning and think of him, you wake up every night to make sure heâs home and go right back to sleep. You walk with him every morning, you wave and smile at school, you come over everyday.Â
Youâre in love with Peter and only Peter.Â
âI donât know why I ever thought he was worth that.âÂ
Peter has the answer, itâs muffled around popcorn. âCause you loved him.â You pick a piece off Peterâs shirt and crunch down on it. âYeah, I donât think I knew what love was. How embarrassing.â Â
He smiles. Your eyes catch the screen again, you shuffle more towards Peter, then stop yourself. âIs it weird if we cuddle?â Peter rips the popcorn bowl between you away, heâs never cuddled with a girl before but heâd be an idiot to say no.Â
âWeird for who? Weird for me? Weird for us?â Peter doesnât care about the answer. âThose are rhetorical, just come cuddle me.â Itâs all you needed, you press up against him and wait, heâs not moving. Fine with you, you halfway lay on him, head on his chest. Youâve never been this close to him, youâve kissed him and youâve made a bold move that backfired, but youâve never been this soft or domesticated with him.Â
Peterâs heart is drumming a little fast, you make no comment. Yours is beating at the same rate.Â
You expected Peter to still like you but you havenât asked. After what happened maybe he decided youâd be better friends. It wasnât talked out, you both skimmed over what happened and started hanging out like nothing happened.Â
But it did and youâre glad. It puts things in perspective. It made you realize how much you like him. You just need to know if it made him feel the opposite.Â
âDo you still like me?âÂ
âIâm sorry, Iâve never cuddled with anyone before so I donât really know what-âÂ
âNo, I mean do you still like me?â Peter knows what you mean. He doesnât know how you think he doesnât. âOf course I do.â You peek up at him, heâs already got eyes on you, it makes your cheeks feel warm.Â
âEven after I was shitty to you?â Peter laughs, a hard laugh, you move with his jostles. âHoney, youâve been giving me shit for nine years, it hasnât slowed me down one bit.âÂ
Honey. It has a nice ring to it, you like it. But the one youâve always liked hasnât ever been uttered with endearment and you really want it, you want it to come from Peterâs voice and have it wrap around your ears while your heart bubbles up with giddiness.Â
âCan you call me sweetheart?âÂ
âIs that the one you like?âÂ
âYeah.âÂ
âSure thing, sweetheart.âÂ
Itâs so much sweeter than you imagined.Â
Youâre not sure what details May knows, but she knows you hurt her nephew. She hasnât said anything but you can feel her watching your back every time youâre with Peter. Her tone isnât clipped and sheâs just as welcoming as before, but you can feel it. You can sense that she isnât fully trusting.Â
May had stared at you for a good thirty seconds when she caught you spread across Peterâs lap while he studied. You tried to focus on his rubix cube in your hand, even going as far to prove youâre not a threat by giving him a light kiss on his cheek. She didnât seem convinced, but she left it alone.Â
Two days ago she burst into Peterâs room and made it very clear that when you were over the door stays open. Peter tried to fight it, he said that you were just hanging out but she was dead serious, going as far as saying that if he couldnât handle her rules, he wasnât allowed to have company.Â
Peter didnât tell you that you were the only person with this rule, but you knew you were.Â
âI just donât get why youâre making such a big deal out of this, May. Sheâs just-â You werenât going to be involved, you werenât going to give May more ammo.Â
âDoor stays open, Peter. If May says it, we follow it.â Peter doesnât agree with you, you can tell by the way he nods his head and clicks his pen. When did you start being able to read him? And why do you like it so much?Â
But the real hint was when you werenât welcome to stay for dinner the previous night. Thereâs never been a time May denied you food, most of the times sheâd come over begging you to join so they wouldnât have so many leftovers. But last night she just suggested you go home and prepare for the next day.Â
You watched Peterâs jaw clench in frustration, then you sweetened him up with a smile and told him you were planning on leaving anyway. You donât think he bought it. You needed to talk to May, you needed to know she was okay with you and Peter, if she wasnât- no matter how hard it would hurt, youâd stay away from Peter.Â
May is all he has and youâre not going to put any strain on their relationship. Not over you.Â
Peter was staying late at school for math club and itâs your perfect opportunity. A light knock, May answers almost instantly. Sheâs surprised but she melts into a smile, itâs lacking something. âOh! Peter isnât here.âÂ
âI know. I wanted to talk to you.â Now youâve got her interest. May opens the door wide, you go straight to the kitchen for the batch of cookies Peter made you last night. You can taste the love in them.Â
âMay, I need you to level with me here. Do you have a problem with me dating Peter?â Thereâs a beat of silence, âare you dating him?â You swallow a bite, ânot yet. I needed to make sure it was okay with you.âÂ
âYouâre asking for my blessing?â You slightly nod. âMore or less. Youâve been really nice but I feel like thereâs a little tension. I feel like you donât totally trust me with him.â Confirmation, but it doesnât hurt like you think.Â
âPeterâs a sensitive boy. He does everything a hundred and ten percent. If you want him, heâll give you more than his all. Can you say the same?â Can you? Yes. Itâs without a doubt. You want him and only him and youâd lay your life on the line. Thereâs been so much wasted time, Peter couldâve been your first but you were too stubborn.Â
Peter wasnât your first, but with everything in you heâs going to be your last.Â
âYes. Iâm in love with him. I love him more than I ever loved anyone, I love him more than I thought was possible. I want to be there for him, I want to support him through the bad days and I want to be by his side for the good ones. I want him and only him, I was just too dumb to see it before.âÂ
Mayâs mouth etches into a smile, this time it reaches her eyes and sheâs hugging you. A whisper in your ear, âI always knew this is how it would end.â You grin into her shoulder, âreally?âÂ
âPeterâs nothing but determined. It was only a matter of time.â You know what that means. âAre you giving me your blessing?â She laughs and pulls you closer, âyou always had it. I just needed to know you were serious.âÂ
Time passes quickly, youâre three cookies down and youâre itching for a fourth. You swear he puts crack in them. You talk animatedly with May, youâre fawning over her own love story and hoping that that would be your future with Peter. When the door unlocks you perk up, you canât bite back your smile or tapping feet.Â
âWhatcha doing here? Hi May.â Your arms spread wide, Peter fills them. âI came to talk to May, I stayed to see your handsome face.â How did you once see it as annoying? How did you once find his smile revolting? Heâs the prettiest person youâve ever seen. You want to kiss him more than anything, May gave you the green light, you press up on your toes to give him a peck.Â
âI missed you. How was math club? Were you the smartest hunk there? Donât answer, I already know itâs a yes.â Peterâs still reeling from the kiss but he powers through. âI wouldnât be too confident about that, sweetheart.â Your heart clenches, him saying it makes your knees feel weak. âMathew Ryan is in the club with me.âÂ
âI hate blondes. I only like cuties with brown, curly hair by the name of Peter Parker.â His eyes squint at you, it makes you feel warm, you hide back in his chest. Mayâs watching with heart eyes, sheâs never seen you so happy. âYouâre laying it on thick today. You must need something.âÂ
âJust you, handsome.â Okay, you might be laying it on a little thick, but you canât hold it in. You just love him too much, itâs uncontainable. Heâs perfect. âMay, sheâs up to something. I donât trust it.â His aunt keeps grinning. âI do.âÂ
Peter pats your back, âif you trust it, I guess I have to, too.â You squeeze him tight and mumble into his chest, he still hears you. âWhat, now?â You asked if you could talk to him, it had him looking down and giving you his full attention.Â
âWhatâs up?â Your eyes shoot to his door, message received. Peter leaves a small gap in the door, you pause and poke your head out to his aunt. âCan I shut the door?â A three second count, âpermission granted.â It clicks shut, you spin, you have all his attention.Â
âYou said I was never properly loved.âÂ
Peter feels his heart drop, it was the nastiest thing he could ever say to you. Part of him wished you had forgotten but thatâs not something thatâs forgettable, thatâs something that sticks with you forever. He never meant to say it, it was something he spewed out to make you feel just as bad but thatâs not who he is and thatâs not what he does and he really shouldâve apologized way before now.Â
âIâm so sorry, I didnât mean it. It was a shitty thing to say and I-âÂ
âYou werenât wrong. I havenât been properly loved. But Iâd like for you to show me how it feels.âÂ
Your pulse rises with his silence, Peter holds out a steady hand. âJust to be clear, youâre asking me-âÂ
âIf youâd be my boyfriend.âÂ
You let out a soft groan, youâre spinning in his hold and pushing at his arms. âPeter!â He doesnât care, your feet lightly dangle, youâre laughing with him. âNuh uh, youâre not allowed to push me away anymore, Iâm your boyfriend.âÂ
Boyfriend. Peter Parker is your boyfriend. What a rush of feelings, thereâs a new one you havenât felt before. Pride. Youâre prideful that Peterâs your boyfriend, youâve got the greatest person in the world tethered to your hip and heâs going absolutely nowhere. Ever.Â
âIâve been waiting for this day since I was fifteen.â A flurry of kisses over your face, âholy wow, youâre my girlfriend. I can kiss you whenever I want, and I can touch you! Oh, and now I always have someone to eat pizza with. And the science museum! No one ever wants to go to the science museum with me!âÂ
âHoly wow?â You giggle at a string of kisses to your jawline, you never knew someone would be so excited at the thought of dating you. âWow, wow, wowie, my girlfriendâs a hottie.â You push him away with a disgusted sound, âthatâs so gross, Peter.âÂ
âOops, let me repent with a kiss.âÂ
Itâs the fireworks again. This time theyâre blinding. Your back burns with his touch, you want to swallow him whole. Itâs not lacking passion, but itâs soft. You reach for his shirt collar when he pulls away, this time he laughs.Â
âI was going to ask if I was a bad kisser but-âÂ
âNo.â This time youâre keeping him chained to you with your hands behind his neck. âBest kisser ever,â you give him a chaste one to prove it. âMy handsome baby.â Your waist is squeezed, âyouâre too nice.â He doesnât understand, heâll never be able to understand.Â
âI wasted so much time, Peter. You were right there and I was so⊠so stupid that I couldnât see what was right in front of me. I have no idea why you like me, I was so mean and cruel and I never appreciated you.âÂ
Peter has secrets too. âI was friendly, but I didnât like you. You were super aggressive and made a point to say something mean⊠but then Ben died.â The oxygen runs from your lungs, it wasnât something you thought about, you thought he didnât either.Â
It was brutal watching him and May go through that. You remember that night vividly, the night May got the call. You could hear her screams from your room, itâs something youâll never forget. Her wails, the way she begged to God that it was all a dream. You knew what happened before you could see them and the one thing you thought of in that moment was Peter.Â
You can still remember the panic you felt, the overwhelming urge to make sure he was okay. You remember your feet skidding across the carpet, the cold hardwood in the hall, the way your middle knuckle split you were knocking so hard.Â
âPeter,â itâs all you had to say. Then you were scooping him into your arms, holding him tight as he sobbed. You kept telling him you were sorry, you brushed his hair back and rubbed circles on his back. You kept him tucked into your neck while he cried, you didnât tell him it was okay, nothing about that night was okay. You remember holding in your own tears, you swallowed them down and held Peter all night.Â
Fourteen hours. You had him curled up with you while you kept telling him sorry, you had stayed up all night with him and took care of him. You got him water, you made him eat a snack, you did what you could while they slept. You did laundry, you did the dishes, you made cookies.Â
Peterâs uncle died and you made him cookies.Â
Your boyfriend dumped you and Peter made you cookies.Â
You basically lived there for a week, you slept with Peter, held him with each bout of sadness, and never ever told him it was okay. You held his hand at the funeral and kissed him on the back of it before he gave his eulogy. You made sure he was minimally functioning, you tried to keep him busy with dumb tasks.Â
After two weeks he didnât need you anymore and you slowly faded away until it settled into how it used to be. You think Peter liked it a little, not everything had to change because Ben died. But you never went out of your way to hurt him anymore, he didnât need your help in that department. What used to be petty attacks turned into silence and gentle name calling.Â
But you were there for him when he needed it. Just how he was with you.Â
âYou pulled an Uncle Ben on me.âÂ
A twitch in his lips, âyou were there for me when my world ended, I had to return the favor.â Itâs not fair for him to compare the two. âI was broken up with, I didnât have my-âÂ
âDevastation comes in all forms. Itâs not about whos is worse, itâs about being there for someone you care about.â He doesnât hide his smile, âeven if they claim to hate you for all eternity.âÂ
âI donât hate you anymore.âÂ
âSpoiler alert, you never did.âÂ
Youâve been caught. Peter knew the whole time, he was just waiting on you. âAre you sure you donât hate me? Cause Iâve been really terrible to you the last month.â Your boyfriend rolls his eyes before giving you a big hug.Â
âThatâs because youâre stubborn and didnât want to admit you liked me.â You poke his ribs, âyou knew?âÂ
âSweetheart, I knew the day you said I had very pretty eyes.âÂ
âYeah, you do. Let me see them again, boyfriend.âÂ
The last six weeks you detested love and what it brings. The disaster, the heartbreak, the pain. You never thought youâd love again and definitely not with the neighbor you hated. But right there, in his room, you felt your heart crack open and ooze onto his bedroom floor.Â
And you watched love begin again.Â
âAnything for you, girlfriend.âÂ
----
TAGLIST: (some @'s wouldn't show up :(
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#peter parker x reader#tasm!peter x reader#peter parker blurb#peter parker fluff#peter parker smut#peter parker angst#tasm!peter x you#tasm!peter smut#peter parker x you#peter parker imagine#my writing
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Ë àŁȘ Ű â ăâ BLACKOUT. featuring tartaglia.
â» the 11th of the fatui harbingers has some... questionable kinks.
tags : asphyxiation, choking, dry humping, sparring kink, hate sex, light dirty talk, death threats, semi-public sex, light spanking, clit slapping, squirting, creampie, loss of consciousness // wc. 1k
author's note : another late one.. don't worry, the next one is all lined up n ready in my drafts !! this is most likely the freakiest one yet bc why does tartaglia have a sparring kink... also this is the heaviest one yet too so please mind sharp of the tags !! someone passes out in this one so be warned. i know you alr know the drill, notes n reblogs are ALWAYS appreciated here but can i remind u not to spam (esp w/o a follow) because that can decrease my reach and my stuff won't show up anymore :( i love you all, thank you for 400 followers and see you in the next one!
this work is NSFW. minors and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT.
âmmm, fuuuck, youâre a feisty one, arenâtcha, doll?â
you didnât know what you were signing up for when you decided to spar with the 11th of the fatui harbingers. in fact, you were more forced to spar with him than of your own volition. he thought you were pretty, and he thought you would look even prettier pinned underneath him, panting and begging within an inch of your life.Â
what ajax didnât expect, however, was to be flipped on his back with you straddling atop him, hands closed tightly around his neck. he also didnât expect that it would feel so good.
blood drips from your forehead and your lip is swollen from one to many punches to the face, but fuck you look so beautiful. âyou gonna kill me or what?â
âshut up,â you grunt, squeezing harder. âshut up, shut up, shut up.â
youâre driving him damn near insane. you look angry and feral, and itâs a look that only the most determined of warriors wear during battle.Â
as of right now, youâre determined to kill him, or at least make him give up. the thing is, youâve clearly underestimated the man who calls himself the 11th fatui harbinger.Â
âare you⊠hard?â something big and firm protrudes through his trousers, and he looks up at you, lips cracking into a smile.Â
âright on the money, angel.â his hips thrust upwards once, his mind growing hazy at the buzz of adrenaline flowing through his veins. âyou gonna squeeze tighter? iâm quite liking this.â
you scowl at him. âyouâre disgusting, tartaglia.â
âitâs ajax, baby,â he manages to say through his lack-of-oxygen induced haze. âyou gonna call me that while youâre chokinâ me out?â
god, you hate him. god, god god, you want him dead, but you canât suppress the feeling of victory washing over you. you managed to make a harbinger hard, and all you had to do was threaten to kill him. âwhy would i give you that pleasure?â
âyou seem to be happy enough sittinâ on my dick and trying to kill me, baby, the least you could do is call me by my real name, no?â he has no bargaining chips here, especially since you might actually kill him cold turkey. âmove your hips for me.â
âyouâre in no position to be making orders.â
âand youâre in a good enough position to get grinding.â when you swivel your hips in the slightest, his hands twitch, trying his hardest not to grip your ass under your skirt desperately. who even wears a skirt to a fight? âhurry it up. iâm starting to get bored.â
this guy. heâs so fucking annoying, but you canât help but clench around nothing at the way he looks up at you, eyes hooded and lip quirked up in a smirk as he tries to move his hips to no avail, and suddenly, youâre left with two options;
option one: get the fuck off of him and run as far as humanely possible in the hopes that he wonât catch up to you.Â
option two: fuck him, and fuck him.Â
itâs a good thing that in situations like these, you like to think primarily with your pussy and not your head.
âajax!â
âthatâs it angel, fuck, youâre doinâ such a good job.â
your skirt is abandoned somewhere in the sparring ring and your breasts spill out of your shirt as you bounce in his lap, eyes squeezed shut and hands latched around his neck, nails digging into its supple flesh.Â
oh, heâs liking this. you swear he grows two times bigger every time you squeeze on his neck, and your eyes roll into the back of your head as his tip bumps your cervix. this is the deepest position possible, and heâs hitting you just right, despite being delirious from the lack of oxygen flowing to his brain from your hands around his neck.Â
when you decided to fuck him, he gave you one order and one order only; hold on tight. and damn did he give you the ride of your life, because youâre twitching atop him, hands attaching and detaching from his neck as you struggle to keep your consciousness afloat.Â
whilst your hands stay wound around his bruised neck, his hands are seemingly everywhere. one moment heâs squeezing your tits through your torn shirt and the next heâs spanking your ass, warning you that heâs going to speed up and that you need to hold on tighter unless you want to fall off.Â
â âm close-!â you warn him of your impending orgasm, hands trembling around his neck as he starts to deepen his thrusts. you can barely focus on the look of his face, but the bastard is smiling, his own eyes starting to flutter shut as he starts to see dark spots clouding his vision. ajax is about to pass out, but he doesnât even deserve such a luxury without feeling you cum all over his cock.Â
with what little strength he has left in his arms, he slides his hand from your ass to your clit and gives it tight little slaps, eyes urging you to cum as his mouth drops open in ecstasy. this feeling, having you not only squeeze his throat but his cock too, has him delirious, and he totally thinks he could become completely addicted.Â
âcum fâme, angel. come on, câmon, i wanna fucking feel it, babyâŠâ he uses the last of the oxygen in his lungs to give you one final command, and as ajax blacks out, he feels you squirt on it, plastering your juices all over the floor of the sparring ring before collapsing on top of him.Â
in his newly (and partially short lived) vegetative state, his cock pumps you full, his seed leaking out of the creases in your cunt. it takes a couple of seconds for you to come to, and when you do, youâre faced with a sprawled out ajax on the floor, eyes just closed and lips parted gently.Â
you panic momentarily because you think youâve actually killed him, until you see those damn lips of his stretch into a smile. âthank you doll.â
youâre definitely not sparring with this freak again.
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#genshin impact#genshin impact tartaglia#genshin impact x reader#tartaglia x reader#genshin impact smut#tartaglia smut#childe x reader#genshin impact childe
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I wanna show you off
pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
words: 4.1k
summary: The women who live in your building aren't subtle in their hatred for you â or their affection for your boyfriend, Joel. You decide to set them straight.
warnings: 18+ minors dni, porn with plot, no outbreak, established relationship, implied age gap, horrible neighbors, general cattiness, all the ladies want Joel, alcohol consumption, fluff, explicit smut, possessive!reader, exhibitionism, dirty talk, oral (m receiving), facefucking, unprotected piv, creampie, one (1) spank, use of pet names (baby, angel, darlin', etc.), I think that's all? lmk if I missed anything!
a/n: idk what happened. I saw one too many tiktok edits set to the song agora hills by doja cat and blacked out. anyway, enjoy!
If it werenât for your rent-controlled apartment with a perfect view of the downtown skyline, you wouldâve moved out of your building by now.
Your neighbors donât like you. Youâre certain of it. You can tell by the way the ladies stick their noses up at you in the elevator and whisper to each other the second they think youâre out of earshot.
It had started, you suspect, because of your age. Youâre a lot younger than all of the other residents here, your apartment left to you by your grandmother after she passed away.
The building is prime real estate, situated in the heart of one of the cityâs most desirable neighborhoods. Most of the people who live here have done so for ten, twenty, even thirty years. And it seems that time has festered a sort of social hierarchy: one which places you at the very bottom.
You shouldnât care. And you hadnât, for a while. But their eyes have started to feel like daggers, pointed directly at you at all times, and you feel as if you canât even enter the building without judgment.
Youâre not a bad neighbor. Youâre not. Youâd learned through living in a dormitory in college how thin shared walls can be, and, as a result, the proper volume at which to keep your music; how you should always be cautious to not let your door slam closed on the way in; that you should never vacuum after eight pm or before eight am.
You never leave trash in the hallway, and you park your car only in your allotted spot, despite the fact that itâs the farthest away from the building.
Even so, the lack of weathering in your face makes them look at you like youâre less, like youâre a greedy little thing who has taken something she isnât worthy of.
Itâs the same way they look at you when they see you with your boyfriend, Joel, for the first time.
They leer when you walk into the foyer, hand-in-hand with an older man. Heâs handsome, rugged, something out of Nicholas Sparks novel. And youâre you.
Joel thinks youâre being paranoid at first, says they couldnât possibly hate such a sweet, friendly girl. The girl he loves so damn much. But it doesnât take long for him to notice it too: the glares, the scoffs, the misplaced judgment â never set in his direction, only ever yours.
One Sunday afternoon, as he sits on your couch watching the Cowboys game with a sweating bottle of beer in his hand, you step out to grab your mail. Youâre close to tears when you return, flinging the door open, envelopes slipping from your trembling fingers.Â
He leaps up as soon as he catches sight of your face. Your expression is stuck somewhere between sadness and rage, bottom lip tucked between your teeth so firmly he worries youâll draw blood.
âI hate them,â you sob as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you against his broad chest. Youâre wetting his shirt, the one he just bought the other day. But he wonât let you lift your head. If anything, he holds you tighter.
âWanna tell me what happened, darlin?â he asks, leading you toward the couch. You sit down together, your body still wrapped in his, and you groan.
âItâs stupid.â Your voice is muffled by cotton. He loosens his grip on you only enough to let you turn your face. âI was getting my mail, and they were down in the lobby,â you sniff. âThe woman who lives right next door â the one with the outdated perm, and the one across the hall with the yippy little dog.â
âMhm,â Joel soothes, running his thumb gently along the tense line of your jaw. âDid they say somethinâ to you?â
You huff. âNo, not to me. They didnât see me there.â
Their hushed voices still ring in your head like a fire alarm in need of new batteries: relentless, infuriating.
Donât know what in the world a handsome gentleman like that is doing with a little girl like her. Youâre tellinâ me. What a shame. Such a young thing â she canât possibly know how to handle a man like that. He needs a woman his own age!
âThey said Iâm not good for you,â you weep. âThat Iâm too young. That I â I c-canât be what you need.â
âDarlin,â Joel drawls. He fishes the tv remote off of the coffee table and flicks the screen off. Drops it somewhere next to him on the cushion. The apartment is noticeably quiet now, apart from your shaky breaths and the dull drone of an idling truck engine from the street below.
âYou know I love you, right?âÂ
You sniff again. Nod.Â
âI donât give a shit if people think youâre too young for me,â he huffs. âYouâre a grown woman. You give me everything I could possibly need and then some.â
âYeah?â you squeak. You know deep down that Joel wouldnât stay with you if he had any reservations about any aspect of your relationship. But after months of no reprieve from stinging glares and brash insults, you feel as if youâve been broken down, reduced to an anxious, overwrought version of yourself.Â
Joel repositions himself, sprawling back on the couch and pulling you with him so that youâre laying against him. âYeah,â he repeats, stroking your hair. He tucks a loose strand behind your ear, away from your glassy eyes. âThose ladies can get their asses in line.âÂ
You laugh, then â a real, genuine laugh â the kind that Joel can somehow always pull out of you, even in the most inopportune of times.
Youâre so grateful for him, for his innate ability to calm you down when it feels like the world is crumbling below your feet. Grateful that heâs yours.
You lift your head. Prop yourself up by the elbow on Joelâs thigh. Wipe away the lingering wet on your cheeks with a deep, settling breath.Â
âDoes it stroke your ego, having a fan club of women who wanna fuck you?â
He smirks. Pulls you closer to him with a hand cradling your face.Â
âMaybe a little,â he whispers, his lips ghosting yours. âDoes it stroke your ego, beinâ the only one who gets to fuck me?âÂ
And in truth, it does. Youâre the only one who knows where he likes to be kissed, how he likes his cock stroked, how to make him cum embarrassingly quick with just your mouth.
Youâve learned him intimately, every inch of him. Ruined him for any other woman.
So in a fucked up kind of way â it does.
âYeah,â you admit. You suck his bottom lip into your mouth, silently reveling in the way he immediately moans, the way he bends to you.
âThese all mine?â You bring a finger to his lips, sputter on a shaky exhale when he unexpectedly parts them and sucks the digit into his mouth.
âMhm,â he hums around you, takes your free hand in his and guides it down his body, across the expanse of his torso, the plush of his belly, pausing when you reach his crotch.Â
Your pulse quickens, then, a dull throb forming at the base of your neck. You extricate your finger from his mouth with a gentle pop.
âThis too,â he whispers, canting his hips up toward the flat of your palm.
Heâs half-hard, his clothed bulge pleading for attention. But he pulls your hand away quickly, not letting himself get carried away at the feeling of your fingers grazing him through denim.Â
Instead, he re-situates it against his chest so that you can feel his heartbeat where it hammers under skin, against flesh and bone. âThis is all yours too,â he says, voice so low it reverberates in your skull.Â
âAll of it â all of me. Donât gotta worry your pretty little head with anythinâ anyone else has to say about the matter. Got it?â
His words are spoken with so much conviction that you have no choice but to believe them, to let them stick in your brain like anchors in sand: deep and immovable.
Yours, yours, yours.Â
And nobody elseâs.
âYeah,â you smile into the column of his neck, inhaling his scent: mostly him, but with notes of you.Â
âGot it.â
Itâs two weeks later when she makes a move on him: the woman with the perm. Joel is taken aback by her boldness, with you just a few feet away, digging your key into the lock of your mailbox.Â
âYou must work with your hands,â she purrs, grabbing one of his wrists and examining his calloused fingers with such little integrity, his mouth actually slips open at the unabashedness of it all.Â
âUh-â
âIâm Sheila,â she hums, raking her fingers through tight, blonde curls. âAnd you are?â
âJoel,â he grunts noncommittally. Wrenches his arm back. He doesnât miss the way her eyebrows twitch in offense.Â
But sheâs insatiable, this woman. She bounces back like a rubber band, not-so-subtly pushing her breasts together, the zip of her sweatshirt slipping down an inch and her mouth curving into a salacious grin.
You just about stop dead in your tracks when you round the corner to the lobby, junk mail in hand, and see her, her body turned towards Joelâs, chest pushed out and hip popped. She has a bedazzled tote bag full of groceries slung over her shoulder, a head of leafy greens poking out the top.
âHi neighbor!â she smiles mockingly at you, all lipstick-stained teeth, when you sidle up to Joel. âI was just telling your friend here what nice, strong arms he has.â Sheâs not looking at you, eyes locked firmly on Joelâs biceps, nearly drooling at the sight of him.Â
Heat spools behind your ears, red-hot.
âNot her friend,â Joel corrects before you can. ââM her boyfriend.â
âOh,â she says. âBoyfriend.â Her lips wrap loosely around the word, like itâs some fanciful thing. âYouâre too old to be someoneâs boyfriend.âÂ
Joel takes a step away from her, closer to you, and splays a steadying hand across your back. âMan-friend, then.âÂ
You laugh, not because itâs funny, but because this entire conversation is fucking awkward.Â
Sheila pays you no attention.
âWell,â she sighs, overtly staring at the exposed skin of Joelâs chest, where the top two buttons of his flannel are undone, âJoel, if youâre ever lookinâ for a good meal, Iâm just next door.â She flits her eyes up to his and smirks. âKnow a big man like you has gotta eat.â
Your vision blurs scarlet.Â
Joel is equally as infuriated. The disrespect of this woman, to so openly flirt with him in front of you. His fists ball tightly at his sides.Â
âThanks, but no thanks,â he gruffs. âAnyway, nice to meet ya maâam-â
âSheila,â she reminds him.Â
âSheila,â he repeats, only to appease her. He turns to you, squeezing your waist affectionately. âWe should probably get goinâ, right sweetheart?â
Youâre still fuming, barely able to register Joelâs voice next to you through the thick haze of pure fury clouding your mind, but you manage to nod, spit out a hurried yeah.
And with that, Joel is turning on his heels, pulling you with him toward the elevators. You donât dare look back at her, but you can feel her eyes boring a hole in the back of your head.Â
Her footfall fades into the mailroom and you breathe a minuscule sigh of relief. At least sheâs out of your sight.
âPlease just move in with me,â Joel begs when youâre finally behind closed metal doors, the inspection plaque situated above the buttons suddenly extremely interesting as you try to focus on not thinking about setting this womanâs apartment on fire.
Youâve talked about living together a few times. Itâs just â youâve never considered it so seriously until right now.Â
âI canât let them win,â you mutter, agitated.Â
You hate how theyâve made you feel, like youâre some helpless animal tucked in the corner, hiding from them. Just waiting for the next ambush.Â
With the passing of each floor, your anger simmers, bubbles into a silent rage in your stomach, one which threatens to boil over at the next underestimation of Joelâs devotion to you. You need to make it known, once and for all, that heâs yours.Â
Words from your grandmother play on a loop in your head, ones she repeated to you often when you were a child: if you donât have anything nice to say, donât say anything at all.Â
And then you have a thought â a devious thought â maybe you donât have to say anything to get your point across. Not to them, anyway.
Your mouth is on Joel the second youâre back inside the four walls of your own apartment, slotting against his pulse point and sucking a desperate bruise there.
Heâs not expecting it â why would he be? Youâve just been seething the entire elevator ride up to your floor, the entire walk down the long, winding hallway to your unit. Heâd practically been able to see the steam billowing from your ears.Â
So the switch-up is more than a bit dizzying, to say the least.
âWhoa, darlinâ,â he pants, his large hands draping over your shoulders. âWhat are you-â
âJoel.â Your voice is stern; it demands his attention. âDo you trust me?âÂ
Your hand trails down his body languidly, in a straight line to the waistband of his jeans. And fuck, of course he trusts you â more than anyone. But this is wrong, fucked up, for you to make him feel good when youâve been made to feel so small these past few minutes.Â
Still, his cock doesnât get the memo, twitching in his jeans as you place another open-mouthed kiss on the underside of his jaw, your fingers beginning to fiddle with his belt buckle.Â
You give him no choice with the way youâre touching him, the way youâre looking at him when you pull back, all pleading eyes and parted mouth, but to resign all protest. Heâll give you the world, and if right now you want to use his body to blow off some steam, who is he to complain about it?
âYeah baby, of course,â he breathes. âWhat do you need?â
You smirk at him audaciously, tongue smoothing over your teeth. âNeed you to be loud,â you purr. Your voice is so innocent in juxtaposition to the words you spew. It sends a chill down the column of his spine. âLet them know who makes you feel good.âÂ
He nearly cums in his pants untouched, grasps at the fabric of your shirt with clumsy hands and nods. âFuck, okay.â
His belt falls to the floor with a clang.
He lets you take control, then. Lets you mark him with your tongue and your teeth, lets you back him to the door with deft fingers working his shirt buttons open before sinking to your knees in front of him, freeing his hardening cock from the confines of his jeans and boxers.
Itâs already weeping for you when you pull it out, precum beading at the tip. Heâs so big, growing heavier in your hand with each passing second, and you lose yourself for a moment, hypnotized by him.
âAlways so eager to please me, arenât you, pretty girl?â Joelâs voice pulls you back to earth, soft and adoring.
âLouder,â you remind him. Plant a kiss right over top of his leaking slit.
âFuck,â he hisses through his teeth. One of his hands flies to the crown of your head, anchoring himself with fingers in your hair. âDirty fucking girl.âÂ
His voice fills the entranceway, confident and filthy.Â
âMmm,â you hum approvingly.
âYeah? You want me to tell âem? Tell âem youâre making my cock drool for you? That nobody â shit-â You enclose your lips around his tip, suckling on it as your fingers wrap around the base of his length and you begin to stroke him lazily. â-that nobody has ever made me feel this good?âÂ
Footsteps echo down the hallway and the sound makes you reflexively pause, your hand stiling on Joelâs cock. Itâs followed by the jingling of metal, the click of a key in a lock, the opening and closing of a door â all close enough that you can pinpoint the source, can tell where exactly itâs coming from.Â
Sheila is home.Â
Perfect.
Itâs probably worrying how excited it makes you, the prospect of her hearing, of her sitting alone in her apartment, at her empty dining table, and listening to Joel fall apart at your hands. Maybe theyâve driven you to and over the edge of sanity with their words, her most of all. Regardless, you canât help the way it makes your cunt flutter around nothing.Â
You lick a slow stripe up the underside of Joelâs cock, starting just above his balls and dragging the flat of your tongue up, up, up to his tip. His breath shudders, his grip on your hair tightening, and the subtle sting at the center of your scalp gives you another idea.Â
âDo you wanna fuck my face, Joel?âÂ
âDo I wanna â fuck â youâre gonna kill me, angel.âÂ
âGo ahead,â you encourage, unhinging your jaw as wide as it can go, letting your tongue droop over your bottom lip.Â
Saliva pools in your waiting mouth and Joel groans at the sight of you, so malleable for him, begging to be used.Â
âYou sure?âÂ
Itâs not that he doesnât think you can handle it. He knows you can. Youâve taken him down your throat more times than he can count. Always so fucking eager to please him, you are â just one of the many reasons he feels so goddamn lucky, so infuriated that anyone would think otherwise.Â
But still, he canât help but worry that heâll hurt you.Â
You nod, eyes locked on him, confirming beyond a shadow of a doubt that you want this. He nods back, beginning to feed his cock into your mouth, easing it in slowly and halting when his head hits the back of your throat, causing you to gag.
You donât pull away, donât show any indication of displeasure. In fact, you dig your fingers into the meat of his thighs, bearing down on him as you push forward. Mascara tears stain your cheeks as you choke on him, laser-focused on relaxing your throat so that you can accommodate more of his length.Â
Joel pulls back, retreating entirely before pushing in again. He slowly increases his pace, your eyes hooded, so doelike and innocent, as his cockhead bruises your larynx.Â
The sounds heâs pulling from your mouth are absurdly lewd: muffled gags and frantic inhales of breath. And then thereâs him, moaning wildly, not sure if heâd be able to shut up even if he needed to be quiet. Your mouth is good, too fucking good and heâs going to â fuck, heâs going to cum if you donât stop.Â
He pulls out abruptly, a string of drool and precum tethering the tip of his cock to your swollen bottom lip. Youâre panting, coughing, still bracing yourself against his legs when you fucking smile up at him.Â
âChrist,â he says. âFuckinâ angel, you are. Mouth feels like goddamn heaven.âÂ
âYeah?â
âYeah. But I need to cum in that perfect little cunt,â he breathes, pulling a strangled moan from the back of your rawed throat.Â
He helps you up, spins you around to face the door. You brace both hands on the wood, humming as he pulls your pants down to your knees. His breath is on the back of your neck, trailing up to the shell of your ear with one whisper just for you, because he canât help it.Â
âSo fuckinâ beautiful, you know that?âÂ
You shiver, responding with a tilt of your head, inviting him in with a needy little mewl. He cradles your face in one of his large hands, the other rubbing over the curve of your ass as he kisses you passionately, tasting himself on your tongue.
The hand on your ass trails lower as he deepens the kiss, two fingers pressing against your clothed seam. Youâve all but soaked through the fabric, wet cotton molding to his knuckles as he caresses them along your pussy before pulling your panties down in one swift motion.
You whine into the kiss, desperate and dripping for him. âPlease,â you breathe against his lips. âIâll make you feel so good, I promise.â
âKnow you will,â he coos, mouth parting from yours as he straightens out and lines himself up with your entrance. You arch your back, rocking onto the balls of your feet as he teases you with the tip.
His cock is so thick when it finally notches into you. Itâs always so devastatingly thick, no matter how wet you are for him. The stretch stings, a jolt of warm pain coursing through your walls as he stills halfway in.Â
âYou okay?â he asks, one hand resting at the small of your back, the other on your hip, fingers gripping to you only tight enough to hold you in place.
âYes, fuck â yes,â you whine. âNeed you to fuck me, Joel.â
âIâm goinâ to baby, donât worry,â 'he promises, pushing in another splitting inch. âPussyâs so goddamn tight, âts suckinâ me right in.â
It feels like hours pass with Joelâs cock motionless inside your aching cunt, his warm breath fanning across your back as he focuses on not cumming. Youâre whimpering, begging under the weight of his body, to please just fucking move.
When he finally obliges you, pulling all the way out and then bottoming out in one deep thrust, it nearly punches the air out of your chest. You scrabble for purchase on the door, fingernails scraping against chipped paint. âF-uucckk,â you moan, eyes rolling back in your head as he sets a dizzying pace.
The sound of his balls slapping against the back of your thighs is enough to attract attention on its own, the loud smacksmacksmack going straight to your cunt. Joel growls behind you, driving into you even harder, the tip of his cock brushing against your g-spot.Â
âOh, shit,â you cry. Your pussy inadvertently squeezes him and he curses at your back, low and deep.Â
âNot going to last if you keep doinâ that,â he warns. âCunt is too fuckinâ good. Best Iâve ever â uuuhh â had.â
Heâs not just saying it for show. Itâs true. You know it is, too. Heâs told you before, both under the influence of your pussy and not. Waited too many goddamn years to feel like this, heâd said once.
âItâs â fuck, itâs fine Joel,â you mutter. âIâm close too, just keep going, right there.â
A door across the hall creaks open. A pair of footsteps patter across tile.Â
Do you hear that? Yeah; what is that noise?
Joel laughs darkly behind you, snaps his hips up, forcing a guttural moan out of you.Â
âThink they caught us, darlinâ,â he says. âCaught you takinâ my cock like youâre fuckinâ made to.â
Oh my word!
Joel is unrelenting, pounding into you despite the voices right outside your apartment, and you fear for a moment that youâve created a monster. One of his hands leaves its place on your waist, cracks down on the center of your asscheek with a slap, the flesh recoiling under his palm and you gasp.Â
The feeling travels between your legs, straight to your neglected clit. It pulsates under the hood with every pass of Joelâs cock over your g-spot, and you feel yourself hurtling toward the edge dangerously fast.Â
If these people donât leave, theyâre going to hear you cum. Do you want them to hear you cum? Yeah, you think, clit jumping again at the thought, I think I fucking do.
âJoel, fuck-â
âYou gonna cum?â he goads. âYeah, can feel you squeezinâ me â youâre gonna cum, arenât ya?â
This is vulgar! We should file a noise complaint. Câmon.
His hand snakes around your front then, finds your throbbing bud, and with a few passes of his calloused fingertips, youâre gone, vision whiting out and all noise around you muted.Â
Joel keeps you upright between him and the door, his grip on you tightening as your muscles slacken. He follows closely behind, cumming inside you with a carnal noise from the back of his throat, rope after rope of his spend filling your cunt.Â
He pulls out with a grunt, immediately collapsing on the floor. Without his support, you topple over too, falling onto his lap with a satiated giggle.Â
A banging comes from the other side of the wall then, shaking your kitchen cabinets a few feet away, the clanging of glassware jolting you.
Keep it down next time! I donât need to hear that!
And then youâre laughing like teenagers, Joel pulling you in for a sloppy kiss, all tongues and teeth.Â
âThink theyâre really gonna make a noise complaint?â Joel asks when you finally come up for air.Â
âI dunno,â you smile. âDoes your offer still stand â for me to move in with you?âÂ
âAlways,â he vows, forehead resting against yours.
end notes: ty for reading! pls consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed <3
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller smut#joel miller one shot#joel miller fic#tlou fic#the last of us fanfiction#pedro pascal#pedro pascal as joel miller#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal characters
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Can I request suggestive headcanons for Remy, Logan, Wade, and poly Logan & Wade reacting to his shy gn s/o immediately covering their eyes while apologising profusely because they accidentally saw him half-naked because he was changing clothes please?
Walking in on Their S/O ChangingâŠ
Fandom: X-Men
Request: Yes by Anon
Warnings: Suggestive themes, Brief Strong Language, Fluff
Word Count: 1,043
Main Masterlist: Here
X-Men Masterlist: Here
Logan Howlett/ The Wolverine
* Okay, so keep in mind that this man has been alive for more than 200 years. Heâs seen a lot. Heâs done a lot. There is not much else that can surprise him in terms of learning new things
* However⊠You can still surprise him
* I completely see him as a man that would just casually steamroll past the fact that you were only in your undergarments. Heâs not phased, nor does he care.
* Logan will definitely take the time to ogle if he gets the chance, but heâs aware there is a time and place for that.
* âHey, we were out of beer so I took the truck to go get some⊠oh shit.â And with that, he was speechless. Loganâs eyes would trail up and down your figure, even though part of it was obscured by the tshirt that was pressed against your body
* Silently, he would stalk closer and closer to you, never once taking his eyes off of you. His hands would gently pull the shirt away so he could get a better look. Feather light touches would cascade themselves down your arms, and chest; all the while his eyes would drink it up
* Picking you up, he walked over to the bed while holding you and pressing his nose into the crook of your neck
* âWhat about the beer?â
* âForget the beer.â
Wade Wilson/Deadpool
* Oh, the beloved merc with the mouth. How do I say this gently? He will both make you love and hate him walking on you. It all started because he had gotten you a new suit that he wanted you to wear.
* Wade had begged and begged you to wear it, but there was no appropriate timing to do so. It had gotten to the point that he had accepted that you werenât going to wear it. But when you finally had been worn down enough, he got super giddy at the prospect of you wearing it. But you had taken too long in his mind which prompted him to take matters into his own hands.
* âWhatâs taking you so long, angel cakes? Oh, hello.â
* âWade! Get out!â
* Throwing things does not deter this man, oh no, my friend. For when he gets a glimpse of you, half undressed with the suit on the bed, heâs gonna need his special sock. Wade is frozen in a state of bliss and was unable to move himself. Not until you forcibly pushed him out, and shut the door on him. When you had finally put the suit on and came out to show him, he was still unable to form complete sentences or even words at you.
* Safe to say, you had finally silenced âthe mouthâ
Remy LeBeau/Gambit
* Ah, Le Diable Blanc. See, I know, you want me to come on here and talk about how big of a flirt Remy is. But no! That boy is a southerner, and southern men are raised to be gentlemen. I truly, in my heart of hearts believe, that if Remy caught you changing, he would blush and book it out of there.
* Hear me out! Just, imagine it, okayâŠ
* Itâs late and Remy hasnât come home from his night out playing cards. The hour was nearing one in the morning, when you finally decide to call it a night, but youâre unable to fall asleep quite yet. Fearing that youâll have to spend another night watching horrible late night reruns in the motel, you began changing into one of his tshirts to sleep in when you heard the door open. Struggling to get the shirt over your head to have some sort of coverage, you werenât quite fast enough.
* âOoh, I tell you cher, it was a goo- oh lord have mercy.â
* And like that, the door was shut again. Maybe you let out a squeak, maybe a gasp. But either way, your raginâ Cajun was outside the room, breathing heavily and holding it shut. After a few minutes, he pressed his ear to the door to hear inside.
* âCher, you dressed yet?â
* âYeah. You can come in.â
* When he does, youâre already under the covers with the remote to the tv next to you, looking at the door. Gambit just grabbed his change of clothes that didnât smell like sweat, alcohol, and smoke, and went to change in the bathroom. When he came out, he assumed his place with you in bed. On his back with you tucked into his side.
* Although, the only mention he ever gave, was a whisper of, âYou look real pretty under all that, cher. Like an angel sent straight to save olâ Gambit.â
Poly! Wolverine and Deadpool
* Prepare for trouble and make it double! Two lovers with a regenerative healing factor that makes snarky comments? Sign me up!
* This is definitely happening after a morning food run. Youâre living with them, and Mary Puppins, and Blind Al, and Wade decided that today was the day for donuts and good coffee. Logan was thoughtful enough to leave a note on his side of the bed stating where they were going and that they would be back.
* This left you and the dog to get ready for the day by yourselves. After a lengthy shower that you didnât have to share, you had made your way into the room to get some fashion advice from the sweet little pupper.
* âOkay girl. Do we go with the yellow dress, or the red dress today?â
* There was a noise, and two men bumbled into the room.
* âAvert your eyes, sweet summer child. But you should just forgo the dress. And the under garments while youâre at it.â
* âCan you go five minutes without something becoming sexual?â
* Wade gave an mhm while shaking his head, and turned back to his partner. Logan had to do a double take at your state, but there was appreciation in his eyes.
* âCan you two give us girls some privacy?â
* Logan had to drag his counter part out of there even though he managed to break free from the mutantâs hold on a number of occasions. As he left, the Wolverine sent an affirmative grunt and nod towards the red dress in your hands.
#rebelliousstories#writing#x men comics#xmen imagine#wolverine x reader#deadpool and wolverine#wolverine imagine#wolverine#logan howlett imagine#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#wade wilson x reader#wade wilson imagine#wade wilson#remy lebeau x reader#remy lebeau#remy lebeau imagine#deadpool imagine#deadpool x reader#deadpool
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