#okay I need to stop here or it's gonna be a list of things that spark the need to talk about a different thing and that's just digging holes
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dcviated · 2 days ago
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"Are roller coasters capitalism?" He ponders as an immediate thought. In his eyes, selling overpriced commodities based on brand titles felt a better bill. At least as far as the stereotypes went. But on that logic, walking into an Apple or Dyson store could quite fit the bill. Not that he cares. He's American. And everything that came with it, a direct contrast to everything that came with Sonia. To many, these were things that distinctly UNamerican.
"...I really do love you." Wylan observes, helpless but to fondly stare into Sonia's eyes after she's done with her request. Just in time for them to hit the end of an escalator and continue their way. Sonia in Wylan's arms. Every opportunity he had to keep her close, listen to her voice in his ear as they walked in tandem. "We haven't even made it twenty four hours past confessing right and good to each other and you're suggesting I abduct you all over again." The snort escapes, but whether she meant it or not it was uplifting. Endearing. Perhaps it was a sign that becoming 'official' with Sonia wouldn't change all that much after all?
This trip was a small piece of that. Here they were going shopping on a whim to get some more fitting clothes and they hadn't stopped a moment to let anyone know of it. They simply did. And their keepers did their best to keep up. Wylan can't help but make eye contact with one or two every now and then.
"I want to see the world with you, Sonia. So if you want to start with Vegas. Do it right. That's perfect. As long as I get to see your reactions to everything, then I have no complaints. Even when it's something or someplace you don't care for you go and find a way to ... appreciate it? Understand it? I rarely ever meet people like that." A pause to make way for the small accompanying realization. "But then half my life was working to remove those issues from people's lives. So." Wylan makes a dramatic shrug and lift of his expression while squeezing his lips. Maybe that makes sense.
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"Okay. I'm getting distracted, and if that keeps up I'm gonna get handsy. This place has gotta have a map. Like an app or something." Eyes flit around, then back to Sonia. "Purely for navigational reasons I swear. I'm not planning anything else. Yet. Also. We need to find a place to get that coffee. I thought I saw some cafes listed on a directory."
Maybe it was the looming shadow of her title. Maybe it was the way she smiled, determined to never allow her cheerful nature to waver and let anyone see the fluctuating amounts of confidence beneath it. But nevertheless Sonia sighed, her cheeks a faint shade of pink as they stepped into the elevator. "I am only human, Wylan," She reminded him as the doors shut before them. "I have worries of rejection just like anyone else, and you had every right to do so. There is so much more that comes with me besides my feelings, it's enough to put anyone off."
She ignored the fact that he had fled back then, there was no use in bringing up the past now and she doubted she even understood everything that had gone on in his mind at the time. What she did understand was his perchance for explanations, for storytelling, in grand gestures that made her laugh. The mature choice was not just realizing those feelings, it was coming back to face them, and her, head on.
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"Abducting me from a national tour of America to take me to Las Vegas, a place decidedly not on the itinerary for a litany of reasons, could be interpreted as both reckless fun and terribly romantic," She chided him with a grin as they ducked out of the hotel and onto the street. That was the beauty of busy, bustling city: unless someone made a scene, everyone was far too involved in their daily lives to pay Wylan and Sonia much thought. Just two decidedly non-Parisians in love, like so many tourists who traipsed over the city streets. Who teased and flirted and hugged and kissed, something so unlike both Tokyo and Novoselic. The former was simply averse to physical displays of affection in general while the latter was a problem of being recognized wherever she went. The Princess's personal life had been a hot topic of conversation since she was a teenager, but only given the Royal Family's blessing for intricate media breakdowns after she'd graduated from university. It was rare, a moment in her life where she was just a person in a crowd, held close against the person she loved. Laughing, kissing, pointing out that it wasn't that much further. Paris was a walking city, after all: best seen on foot rather than the Metro.
It was a shopping city too, and she had indeed brought him to the cathedral of capitalism. One of a few in the city alone, much less the various boutiques that lined its most popular avenues. "Doesn't that mall have a roller coaster in it?" She asked eagerly: stained glass domes and gilded gold details aside, Sonia was far more impressed by the fact a mall could fit an entire amusement park in it. There was a real gluttony and overabundance about America she found fascinating, if not a bit disgusting at times.
They'd arrived on the correct floor for men's shoes at least, but Sonia raised her eyebrows at the brand. Likely some American thing she'd never heard of. "I don't know about that one," She admitted, "But if you are in need of new trainers, I imagine there will be a selection of Adidas and Nike here." And of the far more luxe variety: Dior, Gucci, and Celine, to name a few. Sonia tried to picture Wylan decked out in the premium European designers and found it a difficult image to conjure: she doubted he'd want anything too flashy or fussy. She guessed he was used to blending in wherever he went, and yet if he chose to stay by her side, he'd have no choice but to stand out. She hoped he was ready for it, even if it was a conversation she wasn't ready to bring up yet.
"Speaking of America, though," She began, holding up a pair of white Adidas trainers with green stripes down the sides. "I feel like I did not get to see enough of the decadence of Las Vegas, or at least the American homage to various cultures around the world in the middle of a desert."
She grinned, recalling the likes of the Venetian, Luxor, the Paris hotel. "I would like to go back and see it again sometime, if you will go with me. I cannot imagine a better tour guide for making happier memories there."
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jawsandbones · 26 days ago
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Behold: a Rook
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waitimcomingtoo · 4 months ago
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I’ll Cry If I Want To
Pairing: enemies to lovers!Peter Parker x Stark!Reader
Synopsis: you get stood up on your birthday and Peter attempts to cheer you up despite your feud
Masterlist
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Peter walked into the kitchen in the tower and was immediately greeted by a confetti popper exploding in his face followed by a tender kiss on the forehead from Tony.
“Oh, my. Good morning to me.” Peter smiled at the greeting.
“Damn it, Parker.” Tony groaned. “I thought you were my little girl.”
“Don’t feel bad, daddy. A lot of people confuse Peter for a little girl.” You said as you walked into the kitchen behind Peter. The two of you made eye contact and you gave him an innocent smile while he rolled his eyes at you.
“Ha ha.“ He said sarcastically and then hissed at you like a cat. You gave him a look as you walked over to your dad.
“Happy birthday, baby girl.” Tony said and pulled you into a long hug.
“Thank you, daddy.” You smiled and hugged him back.
“Thank you, daddy.” Peter said in a high pitched voice to mock you. You and Tony looked at him and he quickly cleared his throat.
“Sorry. What I meant to say was, happy birthday. I didn’t know that was today. I mean, I’d been wondering why you looked so old but I assumed it was from your lack of sunscreen use.”
“Nice try. I wear sunscreen everyday.” You replied.
“Really?” He gasped. “Might want to up that SPF a few. You look like a crumbled piece of paper and not in a fun Taylor Swift way.”
“Don’t talk to me about skincare, Rudolf.” You snapped and tapped your nose twice to point out the zit on the tip of Peter nose. He covered it with his hand and narrowed his eyes at you.
“Children, please. No fighting. It stops my moisturizer from sinking in.” Tony sighed and rubbed circles into his skin.
“Sorry, daddy. I just wanted to make sure Peter knew about the giant pimple on his nose in case he was going to see anyone today.” You said as you smiled sweetly at Peter. He discreetly flipped you off by scratching his cheek with his middle finger.
“Any plans for the night, jelly bean?” Tony asked you.
“Nothing crazy. My friends are coming over later for a sleepover.”
“Oh God. Is this gonna be one of those crazy parties where you all get drunk and things get out of hand and you accidentally kill someone and have to dispose of the body together while hijixs ensues?” Peter. whined.
“No, because this isn’t one of the pornos you watch.” You scoffed.
“Pfft. That is not what I watch.” He insisted. “Where would I even find something like that? What would I even type? I’m open to suggestions.”
“Shut up.” You laughed. “You’re such a weirdo. And don’t be hanging around when my friends are here. I already told them you’re a pervert and on the FBI watch list so you don’t have a chance with any of them.”
“I don’t want to date your freakbob friends anyway.” He scoffed. “And to keep it down tonight, will you? I already wake up the birds chirping every morning. I don’t want to hear you birds all night too.”
“I actually came up with a solution for that. What if you killed yourself?” You asked through a smile.
“That’s a great idea. I might give that a whirl today if I’m not busy.” He replied and matched your smile.
“You? Busy?” You laughed. “Please. Busy doing what?”
“Peter and I are gonna be in the lab doing boring stuff with the suits. Adjustments, additions, and what have you.” Tony answered you.
“Oh. Okay. Do you need any help?” You asked.
“I wouldn’t ask you to do that on your birthday, baby girl. Peters got it.” Tony replied, making your smile falter a little.
“Yeah. I’ve got it.” Peter boasted and gave you a smug look. You glared at him for a moment before looking back at your dad.
“I’ll catch you later for some cake, okay honey bun?” Tony told you before kissing your forehead.
“Okay. Bye. Have fun.” You smiled sadly as he left the room.
“You look greasy, by the way.” Peter said once you were alone.
“Like I care what you think. Even your hairline won’t stay with you.” You scoffed and nodded towards his forehead.
“It’s not actually receding, is it?” He asked and touched his hair.
“Maybe your forehead is just getting bigger.” You shrugged and popped a grape in your mouth from the bowl on the table.
“Bite me.” He replied and stopped touching his hair.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You chuckled. “Isn’t that how you got your powers, spider boy?”
“Yup. What do you think would happen if you bite me? Would I be able to a do anything a total bitch can?” He wondered, making you pelt a grape at him. He caught it with ease and popped it into his mouth.
“Watch your mouth before I bring out the peppermint essential oils again.” You warned him.
“You wouldn’t.” He said quietly.
“Try me.” You shrugged. You stared at each other across the kitchen for a moment before Peter gave up.
“You win. Here’s your card. Happy birthday, gaylord.” He said as he handed you a homemade birthday card from his jeans pocket before quickly running out of the room. You rolled your eyes at him but smiled once he was gone and read the card. As annoying as you normally found him, you appreciated that he remembered your birthday. Inside the card was a crude drawing of the two of you fighting next to a drawing of a gift card to Planet Fitness.
Peter strolled into your bedroom around 10 pm when he had grown curious as to why your friends weren’t there yet. It was getting kind of late and you had listed many activities that you had planned to do while Peter begrudgingly listened to you talk earlier in the day. You were still in your room by yourself so he went in and knocked on your door to see what was happening.
“Hey dingus. When are your dumb friends getting here? I need to know when I should jam my ears with scissors.” Peter said as he leaned against your doorway. You were sitting on your bed with your knees draw to your chest and your chin resting on top of them as you stared out the window.
“Do that anyway.” You mumbled and didn’t move from your position.
“I’m going to. I can’t listen to you all yap about when Reputation TV is coming all night. And your friend Stacy’s theories are always way off.” He continued. You still didn’t turn to look at him and his smirk dropped when he heard a sniffle. He frowned and took a step into your room.
“Hello? I knew you were dumb but did you forget how to turn your neck or something?” He said to try to make you laugh. You stayed still and he craned his neck to try to see your face.
“Seriously though, when are they coming?”
“They’re not coming.” You said finally in a horse voice.
“Why? What happened? Did they finally realize you’re an annoying brat whose only redeeming quality is access to daddy’s credit card?” Peter teased in another attempt to make you laugh.
“Something like that.” You mumbled. Peter frowned and finally realized that something was actually wrong. He sat down on your bed and reached his hand out.
“Whats going on? Are you okay?” He asked in a soft voice.
“Just go away.” You said sadly and wiped tears from your face. Peter shot a web at a tissue box on your dresser and pulled it over.
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what happened.” He said and handed you a tissue. You gave him a skeptical look and he held up one hand in defense while waving the tissue in the other like a white flag. You sighed and took the tissue before wiping your eyes.
“They found out it wasn’t a yacht party or at some fancy restaurant or some elitist club in Tribeca so they all cancelled.“ You said as you nervously ripped the tissue up in your hands.
“They cancelled? Why?”
“Because no one wants to come to my party. They want to come to a Stark Industries party with puppies in the gift bags and acrobats suspended from the ceiling and Avengers walking around like party clowns. Just hanging out with me wasn’t cool enough so they all bailed.” You sniffled and turned back to look out the window. Peter raised his hand to place it on your shoulder but then drew it back. He didn’t know if he was who you’d want to comfort you and he didn’t want to push it.
“I’m sorry.” He said instead.
“Like you care.” You laughed sadly and held your knees tighter to your chest.
“I do care.” He insisted. “And I’m very sorry this happened to you tonight.”
“No you’re not.” You scoffed. “You’re probably thrilled to see me like this. This is probably the greatest moment of your dumb life.”
“It’s not.” He said quietly. You finally whipped around to look at Peter and he saw the pain in your red eyes.
“It’s not? Look at me, Peter. I’m pathetic. I’m alone on my birthday because I wasn’t good enough for anyone to hang out with.” You exclaimed. Peter went quiet as you slowly caught your breath. You teased each other all the time but you’d never actually yelled at him before. You wiped your eyes with the tissue before staring at your hands.
“You were right.” You said quietly. “I am just a spoiled brat who people only like because of my connections. And I’m sure you’re anxiously waiting for me to shut up so you can say “I told you so” and prove to me once again that I’m always wrong.”
You and Peter sat in silence for a minute without looking at each other. Peter felt guilty that you were expecting him to kick you while you were down. You were feeling your own guilt for snapping at him when he was trying to be nice.
“I’m not gonna say that.” He said after a beat.
“It’s fine. I’m fine. Just go away.” You said miserably and turned back to the window. Peter opened his mouth to say something but shut it when he couldn’t find the words. He patted your shoulder twice before getting up and leaving your room. You turned to look at the door once he was gone and felt yourself missing his presence. You turned back to the window and stared out at the night sky through your teary eyes and let time pass.
After a while, you started to smell something. You sniffed the air until you recognized it as the scent of a something burning. Out of sheer curiosity, you wrapped a blanket around your shoulders and padded into the kitchen. You found Peter in the kitchen with a lace trimmed pink apron tied around his waist and flour smeared on his cheek. You smiled in surprise and leaned against the wall to watch him for a minute. He was humming to himself a song you didn’t recognize while scrapping a burnt black lump of something into the trash can. When he finally turned around, he jumped when he saw you.
“Jesus. You scared me. But I guess I should’ve known the smell of something baking would have your big back running to the kitchen like I hit the bat signal.”
“Shut up.” You chuckled. “What are you doing in here?”
“Well, your parents went to a movie since they thought your friends would be here. That means no ones home.” Peter began.
“And?” You asked.
“And so I thought we could fulfill a lifelong fantasy of mine and making sweet love to you on the kitchen counter.” He smiled suavely and raised his eyebrows at you.
“Excuse me?” Your jaw dropped as he drummed his fingertips on the counter.
“I’m joking. I’m clearly baking a bake. Or, I tried. I guess 500 degrees was too hot.” He said and looked at the burnt cake in the trash.
“Yeah, that’s a few hundred above what it should be. But why are you baking? We have a chef for that.”
“Because it’s your birthday you miserable bitch. And everyone deserves a cake baked with love. Now do you prefer chocolate or vanilla frosting on your burnt cake?” He asked and held up two cans of frosting. You looked between the two before your eyes settled on him. You hugged your blanket tighter around yourself and shook your head.
“I don’t want your pity.” You said quietly.
“You don’t have it so shut up and grab a spatula before I rescind your choice in the matter and funfetti the fuck out of this cake.” He replied and held out a spatula. You stared at it and felt compelled to take it and join him, but you were still throwing yourself a pity party.
“No.”
“No? Look, I’m trying to cheer your dumb ass up so can you please work with me here?” Peter sighed and looked at you. You stared at him for a while before cracking the slightest smile. He noticed the smile and knew he had succeeded in his plan to cheer you up.
“Fine. But I’m not eating that. That’s what Santa puts in the bad kids stockings. We’ll make a new one. But I’m not touching raw eggs.” You told him and grabbed your dad’s matching pink apron from the drawer.
“I wouldn’t expect you to, Princess.” Peter mumbled under his breath. You glared at him through your lashes as you threw some flour and sugar into a bowl. Peter went to put the butter in but you pushed his hand away.
“It can’t be cold butter or it won’t mix properly. It has to be room temperature.” You explained as you filled a measuring cup with water.
“Oh. Let’s pop it in the microwave then.”
“We can’t do that either. Then the hot butter will scramble the eggs. Do you want little egg bits in your cake?” You asked him as you microwaved the cup of water for a minute.
“Maybe just a little.” Peter replied as he watched you put the butter into a small bowl and then place the bowl on top of the microwaved water.
“There. This will soften the butter without making it hot enough to scramble the eggs.” You explained. He looked between your little invention and you for a minute before smiling.
“Wow. That was really smart.” He said genuinely. “Women really do belong in the kitchen.”
“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes as you set the temperature to the correct heat on the oven. Peter couldn’t help but watch you over his shoulder as you combined the rest of the dry ingredients and expertly cracked an egg in one hand. He rarely got to see you like this, no makeup and in lounge clothes. And he definitely never saw you upset before. He was used to the perfectly groomed and standoffish version of yourself so this change of pace brought him unexpected joy.
“Move over. That’s not how you mix batter. You need to fold it.” You told him and reminded him of the you he knew. You bumped him with your hip and put your hands over his to help him fold the batter.
“Like laundry?” He asked as his cheeks heated up.
“Like you know what laundry is, Pigpen. And no. A different folding. Like this.” You said and helped him mix the batter until it was the desired consistency.
“Oh wow. That worked really well. I usually just go sicko mode until it turns into goop.” He confessed.
“And how does that work out for you?” You asked him.
“Look in the trash and you’ll find out.” Peter replied and eyed the burnt cake in the garbage can. You playfully rolled your eyes at him and kept helping him fold the batter. Everytime he tried to stir the batter, you gently corrected his hands to fold it instead.
“Why don’t you just do it?” He asked when he started getting frustrated with himself.
“Because you won’t learn if I do it.” You replied in a softer tone. Peter went quiet since you were being unexpectedly nice to him. You let the batter sit for minute once you were satisfied and then poured in into a cake pan.
“There. Thats gonna take about 30 minutes to bake and then it needs to cool before we frost it.” You told him as you shut the oven door.
“Oh, so we have 30 minutes? Then circling back to that making love on the counter idea-“
“Shut it.” You warned him. Peter pretended to zipper his lips and throw away the key. You cracked a smile before starting to clean up the kitchen. Peter wordlessly helped you tidy up and you exchanged a soft smile with each other in the silence of the kitchen.
“What was your worst birthday?” You asked after a long beat of silence.
“Are you talking to me?” Peter asked after looking around.
“Peter, we’re the only ones in the room.”
“Sorry. It’s not like you’ve ever asked me a personal question before. It’s usually “are you stupid?” or “can you go away?” or “do you need a tampon cry baby?” He recalled, making you feel bad for always being so mean to him.
“Oh. Sorry about that.” You said quietly. “I sound a lot meaner than I thought I was.”
“I’m mean too.” Peter shrugged.
“You tease me.” You shook your head. “I’m just cruel.”
“I think we are an equal amount of mean to each other. Don’t let it keep you up at night. I’m sure your chronic yeast infections do that enough.” Peter tried to lighten the mood, but you didn’t crack a smile. You seemed faraway in thought and he was curious as to why.
“Do you think I’m hard to be around?” You asked after a minute. Peter was about to crack another joke until he saw the look on your face. He could tell you needed a friend right now and was filled with determination to be one.
“No. I think those girls you called your “friends” are hard to be around.” He said seriously. “I’ve seen you with them. They’re the mean ones. Them bailing tonight has nothing to do with you. They’re a bunch of shallow jerks who only care about the material things in life. They don’t care about having deep connections with people. They only care about deep pockets on people. I know this isn’t the first time they’ve ditched you. And I know you feel alone even when they are here because you’re never fully included. You think no one notices because you tell stories about your charming adventures together but I see it in your eyes. They make you feel like an afterthought. You act tough and pretend it doesn’t bother you but I know that it does. You shouldn’t hang out with them anymore.”
“Then who am I going to hang out with?” You shrugged sadly. “Without them, I don’t have any friends.”
“Sitting alone is better than sitting at a table where you’re the topic of conversation when you get up.” Peter said simply. You stared at him for a moment before your eyes fell to the floor.
“I just don’t want to be alone.” You said quietly. Peter nodded his head in understanding and let a silence fall between the two of for a while. He was going to say that you wouldn’t be alone because you’d have him, but he didn’t know if you wanted to hear that.
“Can I ask you something?” He asked.
“No.” You said immediately. You made eye contact and you let out a sigh.
“Okay. Go ahead.”
“Why don’t you like me?” He asked without looking into our eyes. You saw that coming and stared at him to try and get a sense of what was going on in his head. He slowly looked back up at you and gave you a weak smile.
“Do you remember that time the power went out in the city due to that Max guy or whatever and we all lit candles and hung out in the tower?”
“Uh oh.” Peter gulped. “You answered my question with another question. That can’t be good.”
“Shut up. Do you remember or not?” You asked and gently kicked his foot with your foot.
“I remember that.” He told you and held your gaze.
“You were new around here. You had just gotten your powers that year so I didn’t really know you yet. I had gone to look for more candles and found you crying on the floor of the linen closet.
“I remember that.” He nodded. “It was all so overwhelming to be here with the whole team. I had never felt so small.”
“I know. I told you I felt like that too sometimes. And then we stayed up for hours talking about every stupid thing we ever worried about and gave each other advice. I think at one point I gave you advice on how much conditioner to use.” You said as you replayed the night in your memory. You had a look on your face that Peter had never seen on you before. It was natural and relaxed and playful, all things he knew to be the opposite of you. It was so rare that the two of you were getting along and he didn’t want to do anything to ruin in.
“A dime sized amount and not on the roots. I still use that advice.” He chuckled. “You were so nice to me that night. You came in and pretended I wasn’t crying so that I wouldn’t be embarrassed. You just sat down with me and started talking ad if we’d always been friends. You quieted all my fears that night. I was initially so embarrassed about it but then I felt a lot better knowing someone had my back no matter how bad I messed up.”
“I always had your back.” You insisted. “Even when I was mean to you. If you were in trouble with my dad, I was always here talking him down and trying to get him to see your side. He sees you through the lense of his child that he doesn’t want hurt but I’ve always seen you as a hero who wants to help. I even got him to give you the suit back when you were 15. And it was my idea to put the warmers in because you told me you’re always cold.”
“Really? You were rooting for me this whole time?” He cracked a smile in surprise.
“Yeah.” You shrugged. “Always.”
“Then how come you act like…” Peter trailed off in fear of insulting you.
“Like what?” You asked, sounding like you already knew what was coming.
“Like you hate me.” He admitted. You felt your face burn in embarrassment and shook your head.
“I don’t hate you.” You said sheepishly.
“You don’t?” He asked in genuine surprise. You looked at him and he could see the guilt in your eyes even in the dim light of the kitchen.
“No. I don’t. I never did.”
“Then how come we don’t get along anymore?” He asked. He had only gone along with all the teasing since you began it, but he had always wondered why it started.
“One of the things we had talked about that night was how my one regret about being homeschooled was never getting to experience a prom. I told you had dreamed of it since I was a little girl and it broke my heart to know I’d never have one. So then you said…” You trailed off, thinking he’d remember what he told you. His face showed no sign of remembering it but he racked his brain anyway.
“I said what?” He asked, breaking your heart just a little more.
“You promised to take me. To yours.” You told him. You and Peter stood in silence for a moment before he burst out laughing. Your sadness immediately hardened into anger at the sound of him laughing at you.
“Wait, you’ve been pissy towards me for the last few years because I broke a promise I made at 15 years old and didn’t take you to a stupid school dance?” Peter asked through a laugh. You glared at him for his reaction and he immediately stopped when he noticed you weren’t laughing too.
“Oh. We’re not laughing?” He asked.
“Why is that funny to you?” You snapped. Peter saw the moment slipping away from him and started to panic.
“Well I was- I was a kid.” He said simply. “I had a huge crush on this girl Liz and we were finally becoming friends so I asked her and she said yes. That was years after I promised you that. I’m sorry but I didn’t remember.”
Peter thought you were going to yell at him and hurl a parade of insults his way, but you just nodded your head and looked down at the ground.
“You’re right. We were just kids. Forget I said anything.” You mumbled and started walking towards the door to leave. Peter knew he had messed up big time and possibly just killed any and all chances of the two of you becoming friends.
“Wait.” He said desperately just as the kitchen timer went off. You stopped walking and watched him haphazardly take the cake out of the oven and throw it in the stove top as he blew on it.
“You should stay. We have to frost it.” He said with a weak smile and an even weaker attempt for you for stay.
“You can’t frost it while it’s hot. It’ll slip right off.” You said without looking at him.
“Oh. I didn’t know that. Well then do you want to talk some more or-“
“I have to go.” You cut him off and swiftly left the kitchen.
You went back to your room to resume the pouting you had started earlier. You felt guilty about walking out on Peter but it had hurt you to know that a promise that had meant a lot to you didn’t even stay in his memory. You stared out the window and sulked as you thought yourself into a deep rut. It didn’t take long for Peter to start making noise in the kitchen, interrupting your thought spiral. You heard things falling out of cabinets followed by Peter swearing. He bumbled around for a while and slowly drove you crazy with all the noise he was making until you couldn’t take it anymore. Just when you were about to text him and tell him the knock it off, you heard the dulcet sounds of “The Dancing Queen” coming from downstairs. You groaned in frustration and got out of bed to go downstairs and see what was happening.
When you got to the living room, Peter was standing there in one of your dad’s suits that hugged him a little too tightly around his muscles. The room looked like it had been decorated by a child with poorly hung streamers, ripped up construction paper to act as confetti, and bunches of webs that Peter had tried to shape into stars and moons. He had dimmed the lights and put a single bowl of chips on the counter, which he proudly stood beside.
“What the hell is this?” You asked him.
“Will you go to prom with me?” He asked with a huge smile.
“No.” You said immediately. “Please kill yourself.”
“I will.” He promised. “After one dance.”
“I’m not dancing with you. I’m not doing any of this.” You told him and turned to leave. You heard a “pst” right before feeling a web hit your back. Before you knew it, Peter tugged on the web and sent you stumbling back into Peter’s arms. He caught you with ease and winked when you landed in his arms. You rolled your eyes at him but felt a smile tugged at your lips.
“Please? Just one dance? Then I’ll let you go and hate me for the rest of your life.” He pleaded as he stared into your eyes. He looked so desperate that you found yourself nodding before you knew what you were agreeing to. He smiled in excitement and twirled you around before slowly swaying to the beat. You begrudgingly sighed and wrapped your arms around his neck while his stayed in a respectable place on your hips. You could feel his eyes on you but you kept yours on the ceiling.
“You can look at me, you know.” He teased, making you begrudgingly look him in the eyes.
“Oh. I almost forgot.” He smiled and pulled something out of his pocket. You looked down and saw a few poorly drawn flowers webbed to a rubber band.
“Your corsage, my lady.” He said as he slipped it onto your wrist.
“This is so stupid.” You laughed but secretly loved the thought he put into everything.
“It’s about to get even more stupid. Wait here.” He asked and quickly ran into the kitchen. He returned with one of Morgan’s plastic tiaras with a big fake gem in the center.
“Every prom needs its queen.” He said as he placed the crown on your head. You made eye contact as he stepped forward to adjust it and you felt your breath catch in your throat from how close he was.
“You didn’t have to do this.” You said quietly.
“Yes I did. I owed you a prom experience. I’m sorry I didn’t take you the first time. And I’m sorry for laughing at you. You just caught me off guard. I have spent many nights thinking of all the things I could have done to make you hate me. I genuinely forgot about that promise. I had no idea this entire time that you hated me because of prom.” He said as the two of you started swaying to the music again. You felt a feeling rise up in your chest, a feeling you hadn’t felt for Peter in many years.
“It wasn’t just the prom.” You admitted before you could think about it.
“It wasn’t? What else did I do? Did I hotbox the elevator with you in it or something?” He asked. “I did that to Wanda once and now she’ll show up in my dreams sometimes and make me pee the bed.”
“That’s disgusting.” You said flatly. “But no. It wasn’t that.”
“Then what?” He wondered.
“It’s stupid. You’ll just laugh again.”
“No I won’t.” He assured you. “Probably. I’ll definitely try really hard not to.
“Come on. Please tell me.” He pleaded and gave your hip a gentle squeeze. “You have to tell me now or I’ll become so annoying so quickly. I’ll be worse than those people who try to describe SNL skits to you and keep explaining even when it’s clearly only funny if you’re watching it.”
“I can’t tell you. It’s dumb anyway. Forget I said anything.” You said and hoped he’d drop it.
“It can’t be that dumb if it stood between us all these years. What, did you have a crush on me or something?” He laughed through his question. You went quiet and Peters eyes went wide.
“Oh shit. Did you have a crush on me?” He asked in a soft voice. You looked down at the ground to avoid having to look him in the eyes now that you were caught.
“I don’t know.” You sighed. “You were my age and had these cool powers and muscles and unexpected sense of humor. I was homeschooled and had swiped to the end of Tinder. You were my only option.”
“Oh. I see. So you only liked me because I was the only choice?” He said through a laugh but it hurt him. You could sense in his voice that you had just hurt his feelings and for once, that wasn’t what you wanted.
“I mean, not the only choice.” You added. “Cap used to hang around a lot more and he’s not the worst looking. But he’s like 500 so I never really had a chance.”
“Why me, then?” He wondered. You finally looked in to his eyes and shrugged a little.
“Because you were kind.” You admitted. “You didn’t need to take on as much as what you did at such a young age but you refused to do the easy stuff. You used to drive my dad crazy with how for you begged for assignments. You were so determined to get out there and save people, it was almost obnoxious. You were never content getting back stolen bikes. You always wanted to protect people from the big things. Even when you were just a kid. I liked that about you. I still do.���
“Still?” He gulped. “Even now?”
Before you could respond, the slow music that was playing ended and “Munch” started to blast from Peter phone. He scrambled to change the song but the moment had already been ruined.
“Sorry about that. I don’t know who put that on my playlist.” He quickly lied.
“It was you.”
“It was me, yeah.” He admitted and hung his head in shame. You stopped dancing and slowly withdrew your arms from him, making his heart sink.
“This was really sweet. Thank you, Peter.” You said genuinely. “I should probably get to bed now. I just want this day to end.”
“But we haven’t frosted the cake yet. It’s still your birthday. You can’t go to bed without any cake.” He said in a desperate attempt to get you to stay.
“I don’t know. It’s late.”
“Come on. It’ll be fast. That’s one of my powers. Spider can frost cake really fast and so can I.” He said and rushed over to the cake. He held it up and gave you a lopsided smile, convincing you to stay.
“Fine. Let’s make it fast.” You agreed and walked over to him. He smiled at you joining him and got out the frosting. He handed you a spatula and you started to frost the cake.
“You don’t have to keep wearing that if you don’t want.” Peter chuckled and went to take your crown off. You quickly swatted his hand and adjusted your crown.
“Back off. It’s mine.” You said and stepped away from him. He chuckled again and you laughed too.
“I really do appreciate everything you did for me tonight. I hope I can make it up to you one day.” You told him.
“You can make it up to me right now if we clear off this counter top and-“
“No.” You cut him off.
“Worth a try.” He mumbled.
“Really, though. You cheered me up tonight and I didn’t think that was possible.”
“In a way, I’m glad your stupid friends cancelled on you. It gave us an opportunity to spend time together. And this was the least I could do for not taking you to my real prom. Which was total buns, by the way. I missed most of it because I was putting my dates dad in jail.”
“Well I’m glad that didn’t happen tonight.” You laughed softly.
“Me either. I wish I took you to the first one. We could have been friends this whole time if I had just remembered my promise.” He sighed.
“It’s fine. It was a long time ago. I’m done moping about it. I’m ready to eat this cake and be friends from now on.”
“I’m ready for that too.” He smiled at you. “Especially the part about us being friends. But also for this cake because it’s kinda giving me a boner from how good it smells.”
“It does smell really good. I can’t even blame your boner. But if that thing even looks at me you’re getting impromptu gender reassignment surgery with this spatula.”
“Ouch.” He chuckled and looked over at you. He didn’t stop looking at you until you felt his eyes on you.
“What?” You laughed shyly.
“I can’t believe you ever liked me. And that this whole time, I had no idea. I am so not cool enough for a girl like you to like.”
“Yeah, well. It wasn’t like I dropped any hints.”
“Maybe not. It just doesn’t feel real. I wouldn’t believe it even if you weren’t always mean to me. You reciprocating my feelings was not something I ever thought would happen.”
“Reciprocating? You liked me too?” You asked as your mouth went dry.
“Are you kidding? You’re my mentors insanely hot and totally off limits daughter. Of course I liked you. Not to mention you’re funny, smart, good with a screwdriver and the apparently my biggest supporter. Though you did it in secret. Make no mistake, birthday girl. I had the biggest crush on you for years. Even when you were being mean to me.”
“Oh. I didn’t know.” You said quietly. You had your back to him as you washed your hands but you could feel his eyes on you. You peaked over your shoulder and sure enough, Peter’s eyes were locked on you. You gulped and turned back around when you heard him walking over to you.
“You know, as mean as your insults were, they were always clever. And you always looked good saying them. How could I not fall for you?” He said as he came up behind you. He was close enough that you could smell his cologne, along with a scent that was just distinctly Peter, making your heart pound in your ears. You turned around and leaned against the counter as you looked into his eyes.
“Well how do you feel now?” You asked with unwavering eye contact.
“I feel like those feelings never left.” He admitted. You had never heard such confidence in his voice and it was just the thing to tip the scales back in his favor.
“Hm. Interesting.” You shrugged and turned back around. It was almost like you could hear the disappointment in the air once you had your back to him again. You decided not to torture him forever and give in to what you both wanted.
“Peter?” You asked and looked over your shoulder at him.
“Yeah?”
“Clear the countertop.”
Tag List 🏷️
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cloakedsparrow · 5 months ago
Text
Dick: Okay, I think we’re gonna have to do ‘Good Cop, Bad Cop’.
Jason: Yeah. It’s tropey but it works.
Dick: Exactly. Wanna flip for Bad Cop?
Jason: You’re kidding.
Dick: Or we could play Rock, Paper, Scissors, Lizard, Spock?
Jason: Dude, I can’t be Good Cop. I kill people, remember? You can’t kill people and be Good Cop.
Dick: Those were traffickers and mob lieutenants. These are Rogue goons.
Jason: What, like that matters?
Dick: Yes, that matters. They don’t care that you took out some mobsters. They care that you revived the Joker after beating him to death and then let him go.
Jason: I didn’t revive him, I just didn’t let him die yet! And I didn’t let him go either! That was Batman! I was gonna kill the psycho!
Dick: Yeah, well, you still kept him alive and the goons probably know it. Just like they know I was happy to leave him dead when I killed him.
Jason: What?
Dick: You heard me.
Jason: You…?
Dick: Killed the Joker? Yes. I thought he killed Timmy and then when I confronted him, he said your name and…I didn’t stop hitting him until he choked on his own blood.
Jason: Then…how is he still alive?
Dick: Batman revived him.
Jason Fucking what?
Dick: Yeah.
Jason: Well, now I definitely can’t be Good Cop. I’m way to pissed for that shit.
Dick: Well, so am I.
Jason: Fuck.
Dick: Fuck.
Jason: So now whadda we do? Try to beat it outta him?
Dick: No, he'll lock down. That's why I suggested "Good Cop, Bad Cop" to begin with.
Jason: So we need a Good Cop.
Dick: Okay, I’m gonna call Timmy and see if he can come play Good Cop.
Jason: Good plan.
Dick [talking into a secure (& Batman-proof) phone]: Hey, Robin, you busy?
Tim [on speakerphone]: Kinda, yeah. What’s going on? You sound weird.
Dick: Hood and I need to get some intel from a goon, and we’re thinking “Good Cop, Bad Cop” is the way to go but neither of us can pull off Good Cop right now.
Tim: Shit. I’m in Bangkok right now-
Jason: The fuck are you doing in Bangkok?
Tim: Speedy needed help with a thing.
Dick: In Bangkok?
Tim: No. She’s in Korea.
Jason: So, again, why the fuck are you in Bangkok?
Tim: Because Lady Shiva’s here and she’s perfect for what Speedy needs, so I’m calling in a favor she owes me.
Dick: You’re calling in a favor from Lady Shiva because Speedy needs help with a thing in Korea.
Tim: Yep. You got it.
Dick: No, that’s- You say that like it doesn’t require any further-
Tim: Can you hang on for a second? There’s an assassin tailing me.
Dick: Shit. Do you need us to send someone out there?
Jason; Starfire should be done with her thing by now. She's not on your shit list, right?
Tim: No, I like Kori. But I’m good now. My assassin got the other assassin.
Dick: You have an assassin?
Tim: Kinda? She defected from the League of Assassins and is up for hire but she always gives me priority since she feels like she owes me a life-debt.
Dick: Again, you sound like you think that statement doesn’t require any further explanation.
Jason: So you hired your assassin buddy to kill the other assassin?
Tim: What? No. Of course not. She didn’t kill him. We’ll question him later. She never kills on my jobs since she knows I don’t like it.
Dick: What about other jobs?
Tim: That’s her business. We aren’t all control freaks, you know.
Dick: That’s-
Jason: That’s good, Little Red. Good that you have healthy boundaries.
Dick: I have healthy boundaries.
Jason: Sure you do.
Tim: Okay, you’re gonna have to argue that on your own. I’m supposed to help my friends out with something after I get Shiva to help Speedy, but I have to handle this interrogation first. So how about I just send my friends the twenty-five plans I drew up and ask Bunker if he minds helping you out before he joins us? He should be able to get inside Gotham in less than ten minutes.
Jason: Oh, Bunker’s perfect for Good Cop.
Tim: Right? They’ll spill everything and probably give him their grandma’s secret family recipes on top of it.
Dick: Wait. Back it up. You have twenty-five plans drawn up? What are you guys up against?
Tim: Nothing we can’t handle. Young Justice figures, why even bother with a plan B if you aren’t gonna cover the whole alphabet?
Jason: There’s twenty-six letters in the alphabet, Little Red.
Tim: Yeah, but plan Z is always the same, so we don’t bother listing it anymore.
Dick: Is it ‘get an adult’?
Tim: Of course not.
Jason: When you were a Teen Titan, how often did you call in an adult when you probably should have?
Dick: Okay, that’s fair.
Jason: So what’s plan Z?
Tim: ‘Fuck it, we ball’.
Dick: That’s not a pl-
Jason: That’s perfect. I love it.
Dick: No. Don’t encourage him.
Tim: Thanks, Red. So do you want me to ask Bunker about helping you? I’m kinda on a time crunch now.
Jason: Yes, please.
Tim: Okay. He’s on the way. Is there anything else?
Dick: Whe-
Jason: No, we’re good. Have fun storming the castle!
Tim: ‘Kay, bye!
Jason: Bye!
Dick: The fuck-
Jason: Bunker and I can handle the interrogation here and Timmy and his assassin friend are gonna be busy with an interrogation there for a bit. If you take off now, you can probably catch up with him and go all big brother like you’re dying to.
Dick: You sure?
Jason: Yeah, I’m sure me and Bunker can handle this asshole.
Dick: Thank you.
Jason: Yeah, well, you did kill the Joker. That’s gotta count for something, right?
Dick: I’ll tell you all about it after I make sure Timmy doesn’t get himself killed or lose another organ.
Jason: I’ll hold you to- Timmy lost an organ?
Dick [already calling Kori to get him to Tim]: Later. I’m on a time crunch now!
Jason: I’m holding you to that!
Jason: *sighs* No one in this family knows how to share.
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solelifauna · 2 months ago
Text
Yandere Batfam & Neglected Reader Prt. 2
Okay, so I didn't realize how much building I was gonna do around (Y/n's) social life so this chapter is honestly about knowing (y/n). Anyways, the next chapter will be from the batfam's pov and focus more on the yandere bits! Hope you enjoy this chapter tho!
Tag List!: @sitepathos @ferakillia @uknowimdumb @shycreatorreview @niggrrooo @dhanyasri @cantfindmelol @space1crow @earth-to-mee @rosecentury @yuyuzi-ling @simpingfor-wakasa @bat1212 @sheepintherain @person-from-daaaa-voidddd @resident-cryptid @cupids-pretty-boy @danni1323
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The change started slowly on a normal evening, an evening like every other. It was a football season game day, the big match between the Gotham City High Bats and the Gotham Prep Knights. For the rich prep kids, this was nothing more than another game, but for your school, this game was everything. This would help your school get the recognition and funding it deserves, and allow some students to be scouted and rewarded for their talent.
Not only that, but Gotham Prep always, every season goes to state, beating out all the other public schools in the city. They haven’t lost a game since the early 80s so there was a lot riding on this game. 
Your role, funnily enough, was representing the school as one of the Gotham City High school cheerleaders. Turns out that the gymnastics classes you took before were actually useful for purposes other than trying to impress Dick. You surprisingly took to cheerleading like a fish to water, liking the competitiveness and sense of belonging that came from joining the team. 
Anyways, you, the cheer team, and the football team were on a bus headed towards the bigger, better Gotham Prep football field. The bus was loud with music and schoolmates hyping each other up for the big game. Ethan, a friend of yours on the football team was nervously shaking his leg and squeezing his helmet so hard you thought it would crack.
Both you and your friend Arya noticed.
“Ethan, the game hasn’t even started yet and I already see a crack forming on your helmet.” You said jokingly, a gentle arm on his shoulder.
He startled, “Jesus Christ (Y/n) warn a guy next time.” Ethan spoke, offering a nervous smile.
“You need to stop freaking out bro. When you do, it freaks out the others on the team.” Arya gently said.
“I know, I know but— but there’s just a lot riding on this game. For a lot of us, this is our only way to get out of Gotham, and if we screw up the finals, we’ll be stuck here forever.” Ethan said solemnly, looking around at all his teammates.
“Well then good thing you guys aren’t gonna lose. Y’all have spent two years training to make this comeback, to make sure that Gotham City High finally gets this win. I promise you’ve worked harder than those assholes at Gotham Prep, so just go out there and put your training to use. Don’t let your nerves get to you, you have no reason to.” You calmly said.
“Yeah—yeah, we have trained harder, haven't we? Yeah, you’re right! We've just gotta go out there and play like we've practiced.” Ethan exclaimed, as if suddenly realizing why he should have confidence in himself and his team.
“Exactly!” Arya said, matching his enthusiasm and hitting Ethan playfully on the shoulder. 
The rest of the bus ride to the stadium was louder than ever, the coach and other teammates taking turns to hype up the more nervous members, to get them confident for the field. Everything was about normal once everyone made it to the stadium. The band was set up, and people were flooding the bleachers. It wasn’t until the last ten minutes before the game when normalcy died.
“Hey (Y/n), isn’t that your family?” A girl, Maya, says.
Lo’ and behold, Bruce Wayne and his entire gaggle of children were sitting on the home side of the bleachers, sporting Gotham Prep t-shirts. 
“What—oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. What the hell are they doing here, they don’t even like football like that!?” You shout in frustration.
It was then when you remembered a conversation Dick, Bruce, and Damian had at the dinner table. Something about how it would help Damian out if he started going to school events and games, getting him acclimated to what being a normal teenager was like. That was all fine and dandy, but you didn't think the entire damn family was going to show up. Oh, the gossip columns are gonna have a field day with this. You could already imagine the headlines, “Bruce Wayne openly isolates daughter (Y/n) Wayne” or even, “The Wayne Family once again publicly shows dislike for daughter (Y/n) Wayne.”
You rolled your eyes at the thought, you had bigger things to worry about right now.
“Are you good (Y/n)?” Arya questions softly. 
She was one of the only people who you spoke your sorrows to, one of the only people who actually knows of just how lonely you were. Of course everyone knew that Bruce Wayne and his family didn't really like you very much– thank you Vicky vale– but nobody but Arya and Ethan really understood the crux of your situation. 
“Yeah, I'm all good bro, don't worry about it. Just focus on the game.” You said dismissively. It didn't bother you anymore, sure it hurt a little bit, but this was expected.
“Alright, its time to shake hands with the other team, everyone line up!” the football Coach, Coach Daniels, all but yelled.
You sighed, moving to the front of the line for the cheerleaders; you were team captain after all. Both the football teams and cheerleaders made their way to the center of the field where they met. You looked back at the rest of your team, you all knew that this was going to be an unpleasant interaction, it always was. The Gotham Prep cheer captain walked up to you, disdain and poorly concealed disgust on her face. You all quickly shook hands, trying to get this exhausting ordeal done and over with, but of course the other captain had to open her mouth.
“You lower end city girls sure have your own sense of style.” Darla, which was basically code for calling you and your team sluts. Wow, how original.
“You should see what’s underneath the jacket.” You replied, giving her a sharp smile.
She floundered, clearly expecting her insult to rile you and your team up. 
“Ugh, as expected of Bruce Wayne’s biggest embarrassment. You sad Daddy doesn't like you? Or maybe she’s just glad she gets to mooch off of him before he ends up disowning her.” Another girl pipes up, drawing mind grating giggles from the rest of their team. You recognized her, she was the daughter of some hot-shot CEO.
You just tiredly look back at your team, a few of them getting angry on your behalf while others looked to you in concern. 
“What, not going to say anything?” The other captain haughtily questioned. 
“I mean, what exactly is the response you’re expecting? Yeah, Bruce Wayne doesn't like me, but at least I didn't have to buy my way into the cheer team or have my daddy pay to make sure I wasn't held back.” You stated boredly.
She was silent in shock, right before the anger came bursting through.
“You whore! I’m going to fuck you up, take you to court and sue you!” She shrieked.
“You’re going to sue me? You mean sue Bruce Wayne?” You snorted, “Like that’ll ever happen. And bitch, you couldn’t fight if your life depended on it, so next time you threaten me remember–I can and will beat the ever-loving shit outta you.”
That must have sparked some fear in her because she just turned around and led her team back to their side of the field. You’re sure others noticed your altercation, obviously having no idea what was being said, but it was clear to both sides of the field that nothing good was said. You’re ready to turn back to your side when you accidentally make eye contact with Tim. The cold, calculating look in his eyes has you shifting in discomfort, you quickly look away as the cheer team and football players head back to their respective sides.
The players took their place onto the field while your team got into formation.
“Aright guys, this’s the big one! Give it all you got, just like we practiced!” You yelled.
Just like that, the whistle blew signaling that the game started. 
By the time you reach half time, Gotham Prep is fifteen points ahead of Gotham High. Your school does its low budget halftime performance which pales in comparison to the extravagant Gotham Prep performance. Your side of the stadium grows louder, louder in support of the football team. Before you know it, the boys are lining up for the second half of the game. Thankfully, Gotham High shoots up in points, the score now becoming 34 to 29. The issue is, the game is starting to come to an end with only two minutes on the clock. The crowd is loud, but everyone knows it'll be damn near impossible for Gotham High to win now. The only way to win would be to score a touch-down, which would bring Gotham High to 35 points.
It isn't until the 36 second mark when Ethan sees an opening and makes a run for it with the ball. The crowd is booming, your own voice adding to the mix of cheers and shouts. 
“Come on Ethan! Come on!” You yell, voice undoubtedly hoarse.
There's 5 seconds on the clock when Ethan dives over an opposing player and rolls into the other team's touchdown zone. The score board changes, the numbers now showcasing 34 to 35. Gotham City High with 35. Everyone goes crazy. You and Arya are holding each other jumping up and down. Holy shit, yall won! The football team was celebrating on the field, as they’re announced as the winners, a big trophy being handed into Ethan and his team's hands. And by tradition, you, Arya and the coach go grab the large gatorade barrel and proceed to soak the football team with it. There are yelps and laughs but everyone knows what it means, it means “you’ve won”. You and Arya run up to Ethan launching into him, uncaring of the gatorade now soaking your uniforms. 
It was a good day, a happy day. Everyone started loading up into the buses, starving for the victory dinner at Taco Bell. You honestly, truly forget that the Bats were even here. Shit hits the fan however, when you're in the middle of messing up a chalupa and Bruce Wayne and the rest of his brood walk in, making awkward eye contact with you. You promptly proceed to choke, Arya hitting your back to get you to stop. You do, but holy shit was that embarrassing. Also, what in the ever-loving fuck were they doing here!? 
Before you could voice your utter disbelief, another familiar face barrels into your table. Oh great.
“Hey ladies, how’d you like the game? Betcha I looked good on the field.” The voice of Adrien, a freshman player on the team, made itself known. 
He even made it a point to flex his arm muscles, hoping to impress you and Arya. You both just looked at each other before bursting out laughing. This poor freshman has been trying to get with y'all all year, despite you and Arya being sophomores. His god-awful attempts at flirting were absolutely adorable and downright hilarious. 
“Guys please don't laugh, I promise I have better pick up lines.” he begs, his demeanor that of a kicked puppy.
“I'm sorry man, you're just too adorable, we can't take you seriously.” Arya says amused.
“Why don't you go talk to one of the freshman cheerleaders? I'm sure I heard Hiba and Darla talking about how good you did on the field.” You pipped in.
“No way! Are you serious!? Oh-uh, gotta blast ladies! See ‘ya around!” Adrien stutters, excitedly scrambling off to go find the girls you mentioned.
You and Arya broke off again into a fit of laughter.
“Were you guys teasing Adrien again?” Comes a lighthearted scold from Ethan.
“Not anymore than usual. Plus, I think we finally got him to pursue girls in his own grade.” You responded, a smug smile on your face.
Ethan just chuckled before sitting down with you and Arya. You all talked and laughed some more, your mood only being slightly soured by the Wayne family’s presence at the table across from yours. You did your best to avoid their not-so-casual glances in your direction. Why they were here is a can of worms you had to marinate on later. But for now, you'd just enjoy the rest of your night.
It didn't take long before everyone started getting ready to leave. Some students had their parents come pick them up, probably to go celebrate the school's victory with their families, whilst everyone else was getting ready to load back up into the buses and head to the school where parents would be waiting for their kids. You, however, would be biking back to the manor on your own. Sure both Arya’s and Ethan’s parents had offered you a ride, but you had declined. There was no need for them to go out of their way for you, especially when they should be spending their time celebrating with their children. You’d honestly just ruin the mood with your shitty circumstances.
So as you threw away the last of your trash and started walking to leave the restaurant, you were not expecting to be stopped, let alone stopped by Bruce Wayne. You froze, not knowing what to do. What did he want?
“(Y/n),” He started, voice lacking any tell-tale emotions, “no need to get on the bus, you’ll be riding home with us.”
You noticed immediately how he didn't really give you a choice, just an order meant to be followed. You swallowed nervously, you did not, under any circumstances want to be in a car with any of them.
“There's no need for that Bruce, I–um actually left my bike back at the school and I can't just leave it there so…yeah. I’ll–I'll see you back at the manor.” You said nervously. You weren't used to talking to him and to be quite frank he scared you.
Bruce of course took note of the fact you had not called him “dad” or “father” and had called home, “the manor” instead. This is when Dick decided to chime in.
“What, you're not going to bike all the way back home, are you?” Dick jested sarcastically.
“Uh, yeah? It's how I get back home everyday.” You mention abashed. Did they seriously not even know how you got home? Whatever, you’re too tired for this.
Bruce and Dick glance at each other, their shared look holding a meaning you couldn't understand.
“Well, it doesn't matter. You’ll just ride home with us from now on.” Dick stated, faux cheer in his voice. 
“Wha–what? Hold up, I can’t just leave without my bike! It’s gonna get stolen or–”
“We’ll get a new one, now stop fussin' and get a move on,” Jason grumbles, cutting you off.
You just sigh in defeat. Why the hell are they doing this? Why now? In the end, your questions don't matter as you get marched over to the waiting Rolce Royce Limo. That was when Arya and Ethan noticed you walking away from the bus, not even noticing the Waynes in their hurry to catch up to you.
“Hey (Y/n), why are ‘ya–oh.” Arya yells out before going silent after noticing the intimidating figure of Bruce Wayne and the even more intimidating figure of Jason Todd.
“Oh, hey guys. So–uh, I actually have a ride back to the manor now so I'm all good.” You say awkwardly.
“That's–that's great! But, what about your bike bro?” Ethan questions worriedly, the awkward and almost tense energy affecting him.
“I'm just going to pray and hope that it's still there when I come back for it tomorrow.”You answer tiredly.
“Damn, well, get home safe and get some sleep. We’ll see you soon girl.” Arya says, hugging you.
You hug her back.
“You too guys, get home safe. And Ethan, good job on the field bro, we’re all super proud of you.” You voice, a small smile on your face while you give him a hug.
“Thanks (Y/n), couldn't have done it without y’all hyping me up.” He says.
“Alright, alright no more sappy, corny lines. Now get on the bus before Coach Daniels pops another blood vessel.” You joke.
“Shit, I didn't even realize that was him yelling! Ethan, we gotta go! See ya (Y/n).” Arya exclaims, practically dragging Ethan to the bus with her.
You wave at them, your smile slowly disappearing as you realize you're about to have the worst fifteen minutes of your life on this car ride. The staring you were trying to ignore when talking to your friends was more prevalent now, making you anxious as you entered the car, squirming and fiddling uncomfortably in your seat as everyone else piled in.
You internally sighed as you heard the door shut and the car engine start. Perhaps it’d be better if you drank acid and died instead, but alas, it was too late for any of that. 
You’d just do your best to stay quiet and avoid the eyes boring into your very being.
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amaranthineghost · 3 months ago
Text
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🐟 ꒱ my american lover ( logan sargeant. )
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logan sargeant x aussie!reader
in which a series of instagram posts causes the internet to think you're oscar's girlfriend
authors note: motivation these days is like trying to find water in a desert TvT doesn't help that this deleted the first time i tried to post it
ynusername
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liked by oscarpiastri and 4,028 others
ynusername life lately
view all 302 comments
user HELP THE OSCAR PICTURE?
user this was not on my 2024 bingo card
⤷ user it was not on mine either what 😭😭😭
user since when does yn know about oscar piastri?
⤷ user and since when was he in her likes???
oscarpiastri where did you even get that photo 🥲
⤷ ynusername mumma piastri has a soft spot for me 😊
⤷ oscarpiastri ah
user omg she knows oscar's mom too
user is this a soft launch???
⤷ user using oscar's photos from when he was a kid? i sure hope not 😭
⤷ user okay yeah, that'd be a little bit awkward, but why else would she post a picture of him in her photo dump
user twitter is gonna go crazy
⤷ user i can already see the threads
user does no one know that they're friends?
⤷ user i thought this was common knowledge atp because he has appeared in her previous posts...
⤷ user right, there's photos of them as kids karting together
user ynscar 🙏
⤷ user i found my people
user the ynscar rumors starting up again is wild
⤷ user well they never denied anything
⤷ user ...
⤷ user are you on something?
ynusername
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liked by lilymhe and 1,937 others
ynusername what a view (the city, not oscar)
view all 103 comments
user stop, she's so pretty...and he's there
lilymhe we need to hang out and take pictures! the boys will find something to entertain themselves 😘
⤷ ynusername asap! 🙏🏻 they see each other every day, whats another?
⤷ lilymhe exactly! 😊
⤷ alex_albon what am i being signed up for?
user oh my god, lily and yn planning a hangout with their boyfriends? so its confirmed?
⤷ user AND THEY SEE EACH OTHER EVERY DAY??? GOTTA BE!!!
oscarpiastri is this just your new thing to post random photos of me?
⤷ ynusername yeah pretty much
⤷ oscarpiastri great thanks
⤷ ynusername anytime 🙂‍↕️
user of all the photos of oscar she could've chosen, she used this one
⤷ oscarpiastri right
⤷ user OMG OSCAR ILY!!!
user am i the only one who doesn't believe the ynscar rumors?
⤷ user you aren't because it just doesn't make sense
⤷ user right like just because she started putting memes of him in her posts doesn't mean they are outright dating
logansargeant the view looks great!
⤷ ynusername its so gorjos! (you're not talking about oscar, right?)
⤷ logansargeant gorgeous, babe, and no, of course not (yeah, i might be)
⤷ ynusername (oscar isn't the view here!)
⤷ logansargeant (says who) (and why are we talking in parentheses)
⤷ ynusername (i don't know) (why are you talking in parentheses?)
⤷ logansargeant (i don't know, that's why i asked you)
⤷ ynusername (well i don't know either)
⤷ logansargeant (you've said)
⤷ user (what's going on?) (why did he call her babe???)
⤷ user (why are logan and yn talking?) (not on my 2024 bingo card)
⤷ user (well they both know oscar)
⤷ user (but he called her babe??)
user help all the replies to their comments being in parentheses as well 😭😭😭
user am i the only one who prefers yngan to ynscar
⤷ user nope!
⤷ user i love them so much, but it's probably unlikely and we don't see much interaction from them
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ynusername
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liked by oscarpiastri and 3,408 others
ynusername pov you're max verstappen at miami and you look in your mirrors
view all 231 comments
user oh my god
user im speechless
user the soft launch with the meme of oscar was not on my list of things happening this season 😭
bsfusername you know you're never beating the rumors
⤷ ynusername sadly 😓😓😓
⤷ bsfusername okay but when was this tho
⤷ ynusername wdym 😋
⤷ bsfusername don't gaslight me
⤷ ynusername what's gaslighting???
⤷ bsfusername bitch.
⤷ user rumors? such as the ynscar rumors?
user logan in the likes?
⤷ user hes BEEN in the likes for a hot sc, you just couldn't see him lurking
oscarpiastri you're not coming to the next race
⤷ ynusername WHY NOT??? IM YOUR BIGGEST SUPPORT 🙏🏻
⤷ oscarpiastri support your boyfriend
❤️ by author + logansargeant
⤷ ynusername SHHHH!!!
user wait so oscar isn't her boyfriend?
user anyone see logan in the likes???
⤷ user gotta support the homie's girlfriend
⤷ user gotta
⤷ user they aren't dating 😭
user okay, but do we know FOR SURE oscar and yn are dating? they just seem like really close friends...?
⤷ user SOMEONE GETS IT
user real ones know that oscar and yn are childhood friends
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ynusername has posted a story!
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[caption: guys look at my uber driver 😢]
view all story replies
user PLEASE RESPOND TO THE RUMORS
user 1. you're dating oscar a. true b. false
user he doesn't even have the steering wheel 😭
ynusername 🤫
user oh my god im gonna faint, tell oscar and logan i love them
oscarpiastri you had the wheel
ynusername stupid, american cars amiright 🤣
oscarpiastri sure
ynusername okay no need for the attitude mr. im a formula 1 driver and am too cool for my BEST FRIEND IN THE ENTIRE WORLD!
oscarpiastri go bother your BOYFRIEND
ynusername okay
ynusername ...
ynusername you're supposed to feel bad
oscarpiastri 😐😑😐
ynusername
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liked logansargeant and 7,078 others
ynusername my american boy <3
view all 227 comments
user the random middle of the day hard launch
⤷ user but im not complaining
logansargeant my kangaroo <3
⤷ ynusername EXCUSE ME???
⤷ logansargeant 😊
⤷ ynusername okay american eagle
oscarpiastri finally putting an end to the rumours i see
⤷ ynusername well you weren't going to do it so someone had to
⤷ oscarpiastri i thought it was common knowledge that i had a girlfriend that wasn't you
⤷ ynusername osc...im gonna hold your hand when i tell you this
⤷ oscarpiastri dont touch me
user the sass from oscar 😭😭
⤷ user i know right😭🫣
logansargeant
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liked by ynusername and 143,203 others
logansargeant i love my aussie side
view all 1,047 comments
user ON MY CELLULAR DEVICE???
oscarpiastri i thought i was your aussie side mate
⤷ logansargeant oh no, you are dw
⤷ ynusername probably why he put a picture of oscar in the hard launch
⤷ logansargeant you put one in the soft launch
⤷ ynusername fair point
user i was not expecting this (i was indeed expecting it)
taglist (found here): @slut4lrh @kaa12 @taylorslovesswifties13 @sbella13 @nhlfs @beskardroids @hiireadstuff @sapphiccloud @lorenica @delululeclerc @c-losur3 @namgification @casperlikej @darleneslane @soamericn @decafmickey @tellybearryyyy @geniusalpaca @mel164 @littlegrapejuice @rylieverstappen-sargent @ahnneyong @ln4smiamitrophy @jiggly-puff-12 @jamieebuolos @ireadthensuetheauthors @jaasworld
proofread by @foreveralbon <333
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defectedsources · 6 months ago
Text
𝚅𝙰𝚁𝙸𝙾𝚄𝚂 " 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙵𝚁𝙾𝙽𝚃𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽 " 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂!
below is a list of starters from both sides of the conversation , with prompts geared toward scenes involving some sort of confrontation. prompts rage from friendly to not so friendly. please consider following for more prompts and please do not steal!
❛ i can't believe you hid this from me. ❜
❛ that's it. we need to talk about this. right here. right now. ❜
❛ don't see how we can get around talking about this anymore. ❜
❛ you can't just keep avoiding me! ❜
❛ i'm not leaving until we talk about this. ❜
❛ come on just . . . talk to me. ❜
❛ all this time . . . and it was all a lie? ❜
❛ i trusted you. ❜
❛ did you think i wasn't going to notice? ❜
❛ start talking. now. ❜
❛ when are you going to stop lying to me? ❜
❛ i just wanna talk. ❜
❛ can we talk about this? please? ❜
❛ i came to talk this out. ❜
❛ you and i can work this thing out. ❜
❛ enough lies. tell me the truth! ❜
❛ i just wanna know what happened. ❜
❛ you can tell me. ❜
❛ just . . . start from the beginning. ❜
❛ are we gonna talk about this like grownups? ❜
❛ can you just be an adult about this for once?! ❜
❛ i didn't think it was gonna be so hard to talk about it. ❜
❛ i don't wanna talk about it. ❜
❛ i said leave it alone! ❜
❛ it's not that simple. ❜
❛ can we just . . . not talk about this right now? ❜
❛ i didn't want to see you get hurt. ❜
❛ okay fine. you wanna talk about it? here it is , ❜
❛ i kinda hoped you would just ignore it. ❜
❛ okay , fine just . . promise you won't get mad. ❜
❛ i don't wanna lie to you. ❜
❛ i wish it were that simple. ❜
❛ we passed the talking stage a long time ago. ❜
❛ the truth is more painful. ❜
❛ the beginnings , still a little hazy. ❜
❛ stop saying i'm not taking this seriously! ❜
1K notes · View notes
0mg-bird · 4 months ago
Note
i would love it if you did a fic about bob finally introducing his shyer!girlfriend to the daggers! cute teasing, fluff, all the works <3
unrelated, but would you ever consider making a masterlist?
Hi! Thank you for the ask! And yes, I will be working on a master list soon, it just takes too much work for me to do as of this moment 😭. Bear with me y’all! I’m new at this! Anyway, here’s the story, hope you don’t hate it <3
Bob Floyd x Shy!Girlfriend Reader
“No.”
“Sweetheart.”
“Absolutely not, Robert.”
Bob sighed, leaning against the door while he watched you comb your hair. He’d brought up the idea he’d been toying with all day, only to get the answer he suspected he was going to get from you.
“Honey, it won’t be horrible. Look, the squad wants to meet you, and I want to introduce you to them."
He's hard to resist, looking at you with those puppy dog eyes of his. You understood his reasoning, but the idea of being surrounded on the beach with a bunch of cocky aviators...well, that was something you didn't really like the idea of.
You groan, looking at his reflection in the mirror before fully turning to face him. You give him a pouty look, one that makes him come forward and hold your face in his hands. "They're not gonna like me." You say, muffled from the way your cheeks are squished in his hold.
"Yes they will." He says.
"I'm boring."
"Your the most interesting thing in the world, honey."
He was always so sweet with his words, he calms your nerves every time. You know it means something to him to have his squad know who his girl is, so you try and be brave, pushing your worry out of your mind. You smile reassuringly. "Okay." You say. "It's a date."
Bob smiles, leaning down to kiss your lips, then your forehead. "It'll be a good day, I promise."
As you get into his bed, surrounded by the scent of him, he pulls you closer. "Maybe then they'll stop saying I'll never get laid." He states, making you look at him with disbelief.
"What, are we in middle school?" You ask.
He lightly chuckles. "You're gonna see the level of immaturity these guys have on Saturday, then you'll understand."
And when Saturday came, you gripped onto his hand like your life depended on it. You wore a white baby doll dress over your bikini, your sandals in your hand as you walked across the sand. As the two of you come closer, you see the group of pilots all gathered, setting up camp.
"Well, look who showed up." One of them call out as you come to join them.
You immediately blush at the amount of eyes on you They all look you over, almost like they were detectives and you were a case they needed to crack. You get introduced to them and quickly come to learn just what Bob meant, this group of the best fighter pilots in North America were no better than kids.
"I uh, I brought some snacks if y'all want some." You say, laying out multiple floral tupperware containers that were filled with homemade goods. Immediately, the boys were on it, fighting over who got what. They reminded you of seagulls.
Natasha, who was the most excited to meet the girl who Bob spoke about non stop, is yelling at the boys to mind their manners. "You wouldn't even think they were functioning adults." She jokes, making you smile.
You wait till the last minute to take your cover off, looking at the well built bodies around you made you retreat to modesty as a defense. You didn't put on your usual bathing suit because Bob said you should wear his favorite one. One that showed more skin, one that drew more attention to you. Stupidly, you agreed with him and put it on. You regret that decision now.
"Aren't you hot?" Nat asks as she pulls her tank top off.
"Oh no, I'm good." You say, giving her an awkward smile and then dig in your bag for the bottle of sunscreen.
You didn't really think it'd be embarrassing to pursue the routine you always have with Bob when you come to the beach, so as he, Hangman, Coyote and Rooster stand, talking about something way above your pay grade, you come to Bob's side. You try not to interrupt their conversation, but words slowly start to slow and they get distracted by the way you pull Bob's glasses off his face. You squirt some of the sunscreen out and into your hands, then you gently apply it to his face. The three others stop and watch, faces full of amusement as you make sure he has an even coverage. Bob doesn't mind, he was never one to be embarrassed of the loving acts you do for him, so you find it strange when you turn around and see the guys watching you.
"That's awfully sweet of you." Coyote comments, and you make the mistake of taking him literally.
"Bob, do you get your mom to fly in and do it for you when she's not around or do you just risk the sunburn?" Hangman teases, making the other two laugh.
You look at the tall aviator. "Sunscreens important, Jake, do you need some? I could help you with it or I'm sure your boyfriend here could do it for you." You say, motioning to Coyote.
Rooster bursts with laughter, wheezing at the joke you make, and behind you, Bob stands with a proud and smug look on his face.
Jake fumbles with his words, in disbelief that you’re being outspoken.
Back at your beach blanket, you clip your hair up and look around, making sure no eyes were directly on you as you pull your dress off and drop it into your bag. Any previous jokes that some of the boys made about Bob finding a goody-two-shoes for a girlfriend, are immediately regretted when they see how great you look in a bikini.
Payback looks ultimately confused. "Anyone else wondering how Baby on Board gets to sleep with a girl like that?" He asks out of ear shot from you.
"Probably because he's not a total dick like you are." Nat suggests.
"Bobby?" You get his attention as you lay on the blanket, holding up the sunscreen, silently asking him to get your back so you can tan for awhile.
At the sound of the name, some of the boys laugh, making you blush.
"Hey, Bobby, will you get my back next?" Fanboy teases, making Bob glare as he sits beside you. "Did he just glare at me?" He asks, in utter disbelief that Bob was capable of it.
Bob undoes the back of your suit, gently running his hands over your bare skin. "Are you good here for awhile? We're gonna play a game of dog fight football." He asks.
You turn your head to look at him. "I'll survive."
He ties your suit back together, then meets your lips as you lean up to kiss him.
It was peaceful, laying and watching the aviators goof around, running up and down the beach. You had no idea that the questions being asked between plays were all about you.
"What'd you do in order to win her over?" Rooster asks, grunting as he throws the football.
"I'm still trying to figure that out." Bob huffs, blocking Fanboy so he can't intercept.
"She's cute, doesn't talk much though." Fanboy adds.
"She does, just not to people she barely knows." Bob defends.
As Hangman runs by, he pauses. "Be honest with us, Bobby, you ever get bored of her?"
Bob looks at him like he's crazy. "Never. One of these days, Hangman, you'll learn that crazy bar girls don't make girlfriends. Maybe my girl's shy but she's a whole lot better than whatever new girl you can't make stick around."
The ones around them laugh at Hangman getting called out for the second time today.
"Jokes aside." Rooster says. "I'm happy for you, man, she seems good to you."
Bob looks back at you lazily reading a book, your feet kicking back and fourth in the air behind you. "Yeah, I really like her...actually I'm gonna ask her to move in."
They all gasp.
"We'll say a prayer for you man." Coyote shakes his head.
At some point, you had rolled onto you back and let your hair down, sunglasses on your face as you rest your eyes. Though, your sun is covered by a shadow after a while. You open our eyes, gazing up at the man who's standing above you. You prop yourself up on your elbows.
"Hi." You grin, watching as Bob pulls his sweaty shirt off, revealing his toned upper body. You move your sunglasses down your nose to get a better look, then take them off entirely.
"Hey, you ready to go into the water?" He asks, making you shake your head.
"I'm good on dry land, sailor."
Bob gives you a smirk. "Now, that's just not going to do."
"I'm okay here, Bobby, go have fun with your squad, they're already in the water." You say.
"So you want me to join them and leave you here?" He asks, making you nod in agreement.
He hums, pausing before leaning down and scooping you into his arms. You gasp, flailing in his hold but his grip is too strong. "Bobby, no! Put me down!"
"Not a chance."
You form a death grip, arms holding tightly around his neck as he makes it to the water with you. "Don't do this." You laugh loudly.
"Are you ready?" He asks.
"No! Bobby!"
He loosens his grip, pretending to drop you, making you yell and tighten your grip around him even more. The dagger squad starts chanting ‘overboard’, and you feel the cool water slosh up against you as Bob walks further in.
“Bobby!”
“One.”
“No, baby, please.”
“Two.”
“Robert Floyd!”
“Three!”
He falls sideways into the water with you, making you sink under before you pop back up, wiping your eyes. You can’t help but laugh, splashing him as he pops up in front of you.
“I can’t believe you.” You say, wrapping your arms around him.
He grins boyishly. “Sorry, honey.”
The squad watches as the two of you swim beside each other.
“So…Bob is getting laid.” Coyote says.
“He’s the only one who is.” Rooster adds.
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toxicanonymity · 1 year ago
Text
needs
3.3k, joel miller x virgin f!reader
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joel master list
Summary: Joel wants to find a bed before you go all the way, but neither of you can wait that long.
A/N: Follows ✨ Fires (1.6, prequel), Aches (900), and Thoughts (1.6), but can read alone.
WARNINGS: I8+, big girthy age gap (20/50s), still only one sleeping bag, pining, c*ck hunger, fingering, grinding, masturbation, oral m receiving, cum eating, unsafe P in V, reluctantly pulling out, loss of virginity, pet names, praise, POV alternates, NO Y/N.
“God have mercy,” he mutters to himself.
He's gonna give it to ya good one day, but not yet. Not in a sleeping bag on the forest floor. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet, he tells himself . . . Your first time shouldn’t be like this. Shouldn’t be here. But god damn . . .  
-------
It’s all over your face. He’s never seen anything like it, the way you crave his cock. You shamelessly stare at his pants. His whole body, really. You were bad enough before you touched it, and it’s only gotten worse. You can’t focus, you can’t listen. It’s dangerous.  He should put a stop to this, take it away cold turkey. Sleep back-to-back. But you both have needs, and he's not gonna do that.
Joel feels like he might as well be a virgin himself, it's been so long for him. Frankly, he’s dying to put it in you just as much as you long to have it.  He’s been trying to wait until Jackson so he can do it somewhere safe, somewhere a little nicer, more comfortable. 
He wants to wait and make sure it's nice and special for you, but good lord, you’re makin' it hard. You make the sweetest little sounds when he touches you, and even when he doesn’t, like in your sleep. You ask him things like, “doesn’t sex feel better than hands?” He tells you half-truths, like “not always.” Of course it would with you.  Of course it would.
-
You’re in the forest. With dusk approaching, you're just about to set up camp while there's still light. Joel is taking a leak at the edge of a small clearing, calculating mileage in his head, counting down the days ‘til you should get there. His back could use a real bed, too.  He's shaking his dick dry and a twig snaps behind him. His head whips around and he reaches for his gun. 
It’s you. God damnit, he could’ve killed you. 
“Can I see it?” you ask. 
“What the hell are ya doin’ over here?”
“I just wanna see it.” You look down toward his jeans. “Can I?” 
It’s fair that you’re curious, he knows that. You mentioned it the night before with your hand wrapped around it, I wanna see it, really see it, I bet it’s good looking. You’ve only felt it at night and caught glimpses in the moonlight. At the time, he mindlessly reassured you, you’ll see it, baby, you'll see my cock, and he should’ve known you’d spring this on him.
“Not now,” he mutters, trying to calm his heart rate.  “Can ya gimme a second, honey?” 
“Okay.”  He can hear the sadness, practically see the disappointment on your face. God damnit. He tucks himself away and zips up. You're only about eight feet away.  “Now?”
“No.  Ain’t nothin’ to see right now.” You probably don’t realize what a big difference it can make. 
“What do you mean”
“Just trust me, it’s not how you wanna see it.” 
“Why?" 
“Cause it ain’t as. . .”
“Ain’t as what?”
“Nothin’, baby. Just not the right time.”
“Better if we’re close together, right?” You step closer. 
He closes his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose, and takes a deep breath. “This ain’t the time or the place, honey.” 
When he looks at you again, your face has fallen, and you mumble, “K.” 
He puts a big, comforting hand on your shoulder and walks you back to where y'all are setting up camp. “When we find a bed, I’ll show ya. . .”  
"And when we find a bed," you repeat. Don't say it, don't say it, he prays to God you don't say it. "We can do it, right?" He doesn't answer. "You can put your cock inside me, right?"
Fuck, you're gonna drive this old man crazy. At least one of you needs your wits about you if you'll ever make it to Jackson. "We'll see," he sighs. 
After a moment of silence, your voice trembles as you ask, "We'll see? Why not yes?"
"Cause we ain't gonna make it there at this rate," he complains, then sighs with instant regret. "I'm sorry, honey. But you gotta try to knock it off with this stuff."
You swallow and your eyes glimmer. "Sorry," you whisper. 
He turns away to adjust himself, then sits down on the ground, leaning back against a log and extends an arm for you. "S'okay, c'mere."
You sit on the ground next to him. He squeezes your shoulder and changes the topic to twenty questions. 
——
He’s nicer at night. He’s nice in the day, too, mostly.  Once in a while, you can tell you’re annoying him, and you feel bad.  If only he knew how many times you thought about it and didn't say something, he’d appreciate your efforts. It’s practically all you think about. It’s even worse now that you feel it in your hand every night, but the last thing you want is for that to stop. 
You had been thinking about it all day when you finally asked what you thought was an easy request – if you could just see it, just a glimpse while he already had it out anyway. 
Even if you don’t get to see it, at least it’s easy enough to recall what it feels like.  Smooth, warm, and stiff. Soft veins, tiny wrinkles. A leaking slit. 
—--
“Can I taste it?” you ask one night with your little fist wrapped around his shaft. 
He groans quietly. “Yeah, you wanna taste it?”
“Yeah,” you whisper, your hand sticky with the lube of your own slick, a bead of precum under your thumb. You smear the precum and let go of his hard cock, making it slap against his stomach.  You take your thumb into your mouth and hum, “Mmm,” at the salty taste. 
“Whatcha think,” he whispers breathily. 
“Can I have your cock in my mouth?”
“Oh, baby, ‘course ya can.” The zipper of the sleeping bag jingles, then you hear the satisfying zzz as it unzips.  He folds it down and you get up on your knees. You bend at the hip and don't waste a second. You wrap your thumb and forefinger around the base, trying and failing to make your digits touch. 
Then, your lips wrap around the head.  He inhales sharply through his teeth.
“Did I hurt you?” you ask.
“God no, honey. Go ‘head, taste it all ya want.”  
 You curiously tongue the slit and suck for more. 
“Oh god damn,” he breathes.
You lick around it under the crown and you’re salivating. 
He wraps his hand around yours and moves it up and down, then leaves you be. “Use your spit, honey.” You let it dribble out of your mouth and onto his tip and catch it in your fist. You kitten lick the shaft, tasting your own tang, and letting your saliva fall out of your mouth as it accumulates, occasionally sliding the open ring of your finger and thumb up and down but mostly forgetting because you’re so focused on it in your mouth.
“Ya like that, sweetie? ya like how we taste?” You take a couple inches into your mouth then suck a little more of it in. It twitches against your tongue. The biggest vein throbs. 
“Alright, baby,” he pants and takes it from you. He urgently pulls up his own shirt, slides his hand a few times, then comes with a groan, his voice and pulsing manhood making you ache with need, even though he already made you come. You stay there on your knees.  In the dim moonlight, you watch his tummy rise and fall with the shiny trail leading to, and pooling in, his navel. 
“Can I taste that, too?” you ask. 
“Yeah,” he nods. 
You dip your tongue in the trail below his navel. It’s thicker, headier, saltier than the precum.  It’s not every day you get to taste something new. It’s not often at all. It's delicious.
“Like it,” you whisper.
“Yeah? take all ya want.” 
You lick and seal your lips as you suck it up. You pause to pluck a hair from your teeth, then continue to his navel. You dip your tongue in and his stomach flexes abruptly. You take your mouth off and pause. “Sorry,” you whisper.
“Nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout.” 
You tongue his navel, then suck, and he inhales a chest full of air as you do it, his stomach rising into your lips. You lick up every drop. 
“Good girl,” he sighs and  cups your cheek. “Such a good girl," he sighs.
All day you think about it in your mouth, in your hand, resting hard against your back, between your thighs. You imagine it all over your body. Doesn’t matter if he’s pressing it up against your hip or resting it in the crook of your elbow, God, you just want to feel it somewhere. You try not to think about it inside you too much because that makes you want it so bad, you could cry. Like really cry.
It’s not a want. It's a need.  You see it happening everywhere you look. You see a tree, and you imagine him sitting on the forest floor against it, holding his cock at attention, ready for you to sit on it.  You see another tree and he’s pinning you up against it with your legs wrapped around him, jeans pulled down under his ass as he rails you. You see a patch of moss and cluster of ferns that would be a nice pillow with him on top of you.
You think about it, and you dream about it, too. You can’t help that. He starts wearing jeans to sleep, and you can’t feel the shape of him quite as well against you, but it doesn’t matter. The fact that it’s there and it’s hard is enough to drive you mad. Even after he gets you off, it's bound to come back at some point in the night. Worst case scenario, you lose sleep over it. Best case, it works its way into your dreams.
----
One night, you're moaning in your sleep again, and Joel can hardly take it. His cock is painfully stiff and the strain against his jeans makes him ache. His hips press into you on their own; he can't stop them. All he can do is take off his jeans in hopes that being free of the rigid confines will lend some relief.  He was wearing them as an extra layer between the two of you for this exact scenario, but he can no longer bear it.
On one hand, he’s taking precautions, like keeping his jeans on.  But on the other hand, in the heat of the moment, when he’s touching you, he’s taking measures to prepare you, and to see how ready you are. Lately, he scissors his fingers, inserts three to see how you take it.  “Good girl, that’s real good,  honey.” He curls them inside you, “Ohhh, baby, you’re takin’ this real good.”
God, he wants a bed for this. You deserve a fuckin' mattress at the very least. He’s gotta wait. And yet now he finds himself taking off his jeans. He carefully removes them without waking you up. He lies there with his fist around his cock for a minute, still in his boxers, doing nothing but softly squeezing, as if that’ll make it go away.  Then he resigns himself to the magnetism of your body.  He curves his form around yours again and silently sighs as the hardness in his boxers rests against you and he wraps you in a hug. He manages not to thrust against your ass, but in no time, you're pushing yourself back against him. "Joel," you mumble in your sleep. 
"God have mercy," he mutters to himself. 
He's gonna give it to ya good one day, but not yet. Not in a sleeping bag on the forest floor. Not yet. . . not yet. . . not yet, he tells himself, taking deep calming breaths. Your first time shouldn’t be like this. Shouldn’t be here. But god damn he wants to take that tight little hole.  
"Joel,” you whine and push back on him again. He can't stand it. He really can't. He has to wake you up.
He whispers, "Whatcha dreamin 'bout, sweetie?" then feels your breathing change. 
When you blink awake, your hips are slowly moving, pushing your ass back into Joel's hard cock until you stop yourself. 
"Sorry," you mumble. "Did I wake you up?" The sweet sound of your voice isn’t helping.
"Don't be sorry, baby," he murmurs into your hair. 
"I dunno how to stop it," you whisper. "I'm sorry."
"Nothin' to be sorry 'bout, baby doll." He hugs you tight. “Don’t be embarrassed.” His cock swells harder against you. He whispers in your ear, "They want each other real bad, that's all." 
"I know." 
"Have a good dream?"
You sigh. “Yeah.”
“‘bout what?”
“I dunno if you wanna hear it,” you tell him. Fair enough, he's told you to knock it off, after all. 
“Sure I do, honey. Was it you and me?”
“Yeah,” you wedge your hand between your legs. 
"You want a hand?"  
“Yeah.”
“What’d ya dream?” he asks as he reaches into your panties. "God damn," he whispers. You're soaked, swollen, and your clit is throbbing against his hand. "Poor thing." He thrusts his hardness against your ass.  "No wonder you're tryin' to get at this, huh?" 
You're quiet. 
"No wonder ya can't stop thinkin' ‘bout it." He thrusts against you again and moans softly. "What'd ya dream, baby?"
“It was. . .” you can hardly form words thinking about it. It was so vivid, so real. “We were right here, like this.” 
“Yeah?” He uses your ample moisture to lightly rub your clit. 
He begins to make peace with himself that this might happen before he wants. He hooks his fingers into your panties. “Let’s take these off for a lil bit, hmm? Let her breathe.” 
“Okay.”  You bend your knees as he pulls your soaked panties down. 
—-
"We were right here like this, in the dream?" He repeats. 
“You took it out of your pants,” you whisper. He moans softly, takes his hand away, and jostles behind you. Then you feel his naked cock against your skin. Your breath hitches and you whimper at the contact.  He returns his hand between your legs and lazily circles your clit, pressing his naked dick against you.
"Took it out like this?" He asks soft and deep.
"Yeah," 
He thrusts against you and whispers in your ear, "Then what?"
"You put it between my legs." 
He inhales sharply then wedges his cock between your thighs, shuddering as he slides it forward along your dripping seam and the head meets his fingers on your clit. 
You tilt your hips and he whispers, "Oh, baby. Like this?"
"No, you put it inside," you whisper. 
Joel's breath hitches and he twitches against your heat. You moan. He slides slowly through your folds to your clit and back. He tries to slow down and think it over, but there are no thoughts, just his stiff, aching cock and your tight little pussy begging for it.
——
“Will you do that,” you ask, looking over your shoulder but not enough to meet his eyes. 
Joel takes a deep breath. “You think I should? Don’t wanna wait for a bed?” He thrusts in small pulses. “Just a few days, baby.”
“They wanna be together real bad,” you whisper. “how they’re meant to be," you remind him.  
Joel groans at your words. “I know, baby doll.” He takes a deep breath. “How’d it feel in your dream?”
“Full, really full,” you tell him, then sigh. “Felt so big.’
“Ohh, fuck,” Joel breathes into your hair and slides his cock against you, wet and stiff.
“It was like I was hugging you with my, um,” you say, then swallow and tilt your hips. "Hugging it."
“God damn,” he sighs. He pulls his cock back, and as he slides it forward again, it catches at your entrance. You spread your thighs ever so slightly. “You sure ‘bout this,” he confirms, and uses the hand between your legs to nestle his tip just inside. You gasp. 
“Yeah,” you nod. “Yes, please. Joel, please,” you whine. You push back on him with a small grunt, stretching yourself open on his tip. 
“Oh god, baby,” he sighs, then he holds you still and slowly pushes himself inside with a quiet groan muffled by your hair. “Fuck, you’re–ohh, you’re tight.”  You gasp as his girth parts your walls and your body makes room for him.  “You okay?”
“Yeah,” you nod urgently, and he twitches inside you. 
You shiver with pleasure as he pushes further and sighs, “Oh, baby.” 
“Joel,” you whine, “its so big”
“Too big?”
“No,” you reassure him. “I want it.”
He pushes the rest of himself in until his pelvis is flush. He breathes heavily and mutters, “fuck.”
You moan and push back on him. “s’perfect,” you whine.
“you like havin’ me in here?”
“I love it,” you say. 
“As much as the dream?”
“More than the dream.”
“What happened next?” he asks
“Then you it moved like you do in my hand.”
“Yeah,” he begins to rock his hips, his thick cock dragging inside you. “Like this?”
“nnngghh–yeah,” you nod then gasp as you're filled by his length again. “ohhh,” you moan. "And then you came inside—”
He groans, then pants as he’s moving inside you, “Ohh fuck, sweetie I can’t—ohh, I can’t do that, uggghh–god damn.”
“Felt so good, like a massage”
“Ohh, baby, please don’t–”
“And warm”
“Fuck,” he breathes and covers your mouth with his free hand, bicep flexing under your neck as he does it. No way he’s gonna last with you talking like that. 
He begins to slowly move again and you whimper.  You’re right, it is like you’re hugging him. You’re so tight and wet for him, taking his cock so good. 
"Good girl," he whispers, burying his length in you every second or so, only pulling back halfway each time. 
"Such a good girl, wantin' my cock so bad." He moans. "Waitin' all this time—uggh." You push your hips back to meet his thrusts. "That's my girl, takin' me so good," his next thrust is harder and you moan. "Yeah, just like that," he breathes.  His hand teases your clit as he fucks you. You whimper and he repeats, "just like that," his voice shakier, his breath heavier on your ear, “yeah.”
You moan into his hand, and his fingers circle your clit. “C’mon, baby,” he pants. “Gonna come on my cock?” You nod and hum your agreement. “Better do it now, then, you can do it.”
You let go and your clit pulses madly, your walls clench down on him. It feels so good, your eyes well up in tears.
“Ohh, baby,” he sighs, and suddenly pulls out. He replaces his cock with two fingers that your cunt begins to hug. “Such a good girl, squeezin’ my fingers.”  
His aching arousal presses against your ass, and he humps against you as he fingers you. “Ohh, yea--ohhhh.” His cock begins to pulse, spreading a silky warmth across your skin. He moans and sighs as you finish coming on his fingers and his balls empty. 
—-
He uses a shirt of his to clean you up. As his breathing calms down, he hears you sniffling. “Hey, hey, you okay, sweetie?”
You’re fine, more than fine, but you can’t talk.
“Shit,” he mutters to himself when you don’t answer.  He peeks over your side, gently stroking your arm. “Hey, c’mere, talk to me, sweetie.”  You turn around and face him.  “You okay, honey?”
You nod and smile at him with watery eyes.
His brows knit as he finishes catching his breath.  He kisses you on the forehead and wraps you in a hug. You sniffle again and he speaks into your hair. “I know that was a big deal for you, baby.”  He pulls his head back and tilts your chin up. “It was big for me too, okay?” You nod.  He reads your eyes, then presses his lips into yours. He reads your face again, then repeats the kiss and you kiss him back. He kisses you on the forehead and holds you, stroking your head. You fall asleep holding each other face-to-face.
-----
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Thank you so much for reading and engaging! Your comments and reblogs go a long way in motivation so if you liked it plz consider saying something 🫶. There's a virgin section on my joel master list right above the one shots. Left in Lincoln is a pretty similar Joel, in terms of how he is with you sexually. For more Joel POV, the most recent raider, Night Air, has a lot.
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for fic notifications, please follow @toxicfics, subscribe to notifications, and make sure your tumblr app settings allow push notifications. ⚠️ some of my fics are pretty dark.
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taeghi · 4 months ago
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casual | teaser
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full release : read here
you thought you could handle being casual with notorious fratboy!heeseung, but when feelings get involved, you soon realize that 'casual' isn't so simple.
PAIRING : fratboy!heeseung x reader
GENRE : smut, fwb to lovers, enemies? to lovers?? & a little angst?? + 5 smut scenes lol
WC : probs 20k
taglist : ???
YOU LOVE CASUAL SEX.
you've always prided yourself on being the type who keeps things casual. it's not that you're afraid of commitment; rather, you find comfort in the simplicity of fucking and then never seeing the person again. there’s no messy entanglements or feelings. it’s a way to satisfy your desires without the emotional baggage that comes with more serious relationships.
you’d rather be alone, but you still have fun with your friends when you go out. you've never been content with surface-level explanations or shallow interactions. you crave depth, in people and experiences. which you have found to be, truthfully, hard in today’s day and age. 
you’re sensitive to most things, so you try to cover it up– protect yourself– with all the partying, the drinking, the sex. 
and tonight, like every other normal friday night; you’re at a party. 
there’s a familiar thump of music and loud chatter around you that you’ve grown accustomed to. yooyeon and gracie, your closest friends are an inseparable couple, are by your side. they've been together for what feels like forever, the kind of relationship that makes you simultaneously envious and relieved you're not in a relationship.
as you continue to sip your drink, yooyeon leans in with her knowing smile, “so, y/n,” teases, “have you decided when you’re gonna settle down? find yourself a nice guy and stop with all these one night stands?” 
you roll your eyes playfully, used to this conversation. "never," you reply with a grin, "casual hookups forever, remember?"
gracie chuckles, shaking her head fondly. "come on, yn," she chimes in, her voice warm with affection, “you know it’s gonna have to get boring at some point.” 
you shrug nonchalantly, though their words do make you pause for a moment. "maybe someday," you concede, though deep down, you're not so sure. relationships have never been your thing, and the thought of settling down feels suffocating.
"come on, yn," yooyeon nudges you gently, her expression softening, "we love you just the way you are. but don't close yourself off to the possibility, okay?"
you nod, grateful for their understanding. deep down, you know they're right—they always are. but for now, you want to find someone to relieve the ache that’s been in your core all day. 
you turn to gracie, the one who always knows all the drama on your college campus, “who is here that i can hook up with?” 
gracie rolls her eyes and looks around the crowded frat house, “hm,” she thinks outloud, “well jeongin and bella broke up this week…” 
you shake your head, “too soon, i don’t want to be a potential rebound for him.” 
yooyeon scoffs and continues to drink, listening to your guys’ conversation. 
“how about,” gracie, “mark? he’s real chatty though.”
you groan, “then no.”
gracie goes on a small list of people that she sees around, but none of them suffice. none of them are your type or seem to be able to satisfy you. you tell your friends that you’re going to go get another drink– you’ll need one. 
the kitchen table has a handful of drinks to choose from. there’s punch and beer and vodka, half of it has been spilt all over said table. 
“the punch is good,” a voice suddenly says from beside you. 
when you turn, you instantly recognize him– he’s one of the frat boys that lives in this house, maybe the most popular one of them all. 
lee heeseung stands beside you with an air of confidence that is probably more on the cocky side. his posture is relaxed yet demeaning. his hair is tousled and his clothes give off a carefree attitude. 
pretty much everyone at your college knows lee heeseung from his parties, his stories, the multiple girls he has slept with. you’ve heard enough stories about him to write an entire book, yet his entire persona is more annoying than appealing to you. his entire act is one that you’ve seen played out too many times before. 
“good to know,” you say and grab a beer instead. 
heeseung raises his eyebrow at your choice, “i’m heeseung.” his voice is smooth and cuts through the noise of the party. 
you take a sip of your beer, “i know who you are.” you reply bounty, not bothering to hide your disinterest.
intrigued by your coldness, “right,” he acknowledges with a smirk, “and i know who you are.” 
“congrats," you say dryly, with a fake excitement to your tone. 
heeseung suddenly leans in closer to you and whispers into your ear, his voice low, "you're the girl who only does casual sex, right?"
you're taken aback by his boldness, but there's a flicker of curiosity in your eyes. "i might be,"
heeseung smirks down at you at your answer. you let yourself think that maybe the notorious fuckboy is pretty handsome. his complexion seemingly glows, his eyes are full of a flirty playfulness, and his smile is charming enough. 
“well, do you wanna have casual sex with me?” 
if it wasn’t lee heeseung standing in front of you, you would be surprised. 
instead, you let out a groan, your face contorts in disgust, “god no.” 
heeseung tilts his head, “why not? i thought you were into that.” 
“because you’re like a walking std.” 
instead of getting offended like you had hoped, heeseung bursts out laughing in the middle of the kitchen, his eyes squinting. 
"damn, straight to the point," he manages between chuckles, clearly amused by your blunt response. 
you roll your eyes, trying not to let his laughter get under your skin. "just being honest," you retort, though there's a hint of begrudging amusement in your tone. 
“i’ll see you around, y/n.” 
you turn on your heel, your back already faced him when you reply, “no, you won’t.”
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@ taeghi, 2024. do not repost or reuse in anyway.
PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY, AS LIKES MAKE IT HARD FOR WORK TO BE SPREAD AND ENJOYED BY OTHERS :)
stay safe everyone :)
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chrisevansonly · 9 months ago
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Some Extra Goodies
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charles leclerc x female reader
summary: you are the master at sneaking things into the grocery kart, only this time…someone is watching
warnings: none very fluffy and domestic charles
a/n: thank you all for the cute little ideas i’m gonna work through them, i hope you enjoy these little blurbs!!
Grocery shopping was something you and Charles loved to do together, ever since you moved in together, and even when you both still lived in your respective homes; it was a tradition for you two almost.
Another thing you were good at was sneaking extras into the cart, whether it was your favourite candies or a little package of double chocolate chip cookies, luckily enough for you Charles never seemed to notice.
Until today.
“Chérie, what kind of apples do you want this week?”
You hummed for a second, having just sneakily added a package of cookies to the cart, your eyes then moving up to look at your fiancé who narrowed his stare onto you.
“Oh um let’s just get the honey crisp again! Those were really good last time”
Charles didn’t say anything before grabbing a few apples and placing them into your little fabric fruit bag, the bag you’d started to force him to use to avoid all the plastic use.
“Okay, we just need milk and then we are good to go”
Nodding you hooked your arm through Charles’s and walked towards the dairy section, not before subtly grabbing a pack of gummy bears and trying to hide them under the bushel of banana’s that had just been laid down minutes earlier.
It wasn’t until after you’d gotten the milk and some yogurt that Charles stopped by the cash register, a slight smirk on his face.
“So are we forgetting anything?” he asked softly
“Nope, everything is checked off on the list!”
“Really?”
You raised a brow looking at him and shrugged, showing him the crumpled up grocery list
“Yeah, see I checked it all off…is there something we’re forgetting?”
“Well I just noticed something funny…”
Charles kept his eyes on you, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he pulled out the cookies, gummy bears and the little box of truffles you’d slipped into the cart.
“It’s funny because I didn’t see these on the list…”
“What! Oh well how did they get in there! Must have flown off the shelf!”
Charles couldn’t hold his laugh back at your fake shock, it was something he loved about you, how you’d get so animated and pretend as if you didn’t do something: you both knew you most definitely did.
“So I didn’t see you sneakily place these in the cart over our trip here?”
“Charles! I think you’re seeing things, should we go see a doctor?”
Biting back a smile you tried hard not to crack nor laugh, but as Charles pulled you in for a hug and pressed a kiss to your forehead, you sighed, finally breaking.
“Alright…you caught me…i just wanted some sweets…”
“Well you didn’t have to sneak them mon amour..”
You shrugged
“It’s more fun that way! Plus you never notice!”
At the look on thé Monégasque’s face your mouth dropped open
“You’ve known?!”
“Every year since we started dating…”
Now it was your time to laugh, all of this time you’d thought he’d never noticed your additions to the weekly groceries, when in reality he’d known everytime for the past 5 years.
“Let’s just say don’t become a spy…you’re not very good at hiding things”
“Hey!”
Pressing one last kiss to your forehead the two of you made your way to the cash to check out and pack all of your things up to go home. Even if you weren’t a good spy, and Charles did know when you snuck extras in, he’d never say anything, in fact he loved that you did it.
Because half the time, he’d want the same sweets as you, he’d just never admit it….not now at least.
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reiderwriter · 6 months ago
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Satisfaction Feels Like a Distant Memory
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Chapter Three of I Can't Help Myself
Summary: Your mounting attraction to Spencer Reid pushes you to the edge, turning begrudging friendship to deep hatred when he finally shows up on your doorstep. He's the only thing that can out you out of your misery even as you sink further into it.
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, hate sex, rough sex, argument as foreplay, oral (f recieving) and face fucking, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, forced orgasms, "forced" submission, creampie, p in v penetrative sex, etc.
A/N: I've had about as much sleep as the reader in this fic has for the last week, but HERE IT IS! Chapter Three 🥰 You may need a bottle of water on standby, or at least a hand fan, because this one gets a bit heated....
Masterlist || Add yourself to the taglist!
You hesitated in front of your office door, which you supposed was going to become a bad habit of yours now. You tried lying to yourself, that nothing was different now, that you weren't attracted to him in a completely stupid way, but you still stood frozen in front of your own office door. 
Frozen and horny. 
Shit. 
You mentally went through a list of the worst things that could happen if you went in. 
1. He was there. 
2. He wasn't there. 
3. He was there, and he touched you again, and you moaned. 
4. He was there, and he didn't touch you again, but you still moaned. 
5. He was there, and you threw yourself at him immediately because why wouldn't you when you'd seen what you could be working with the night before? Fuck moaning once, moaning multiple times as he pushed you against the bookshelf would- 
“Are you gonna go in, or are you just going to fondle the door handle?” He asked from behind you. From too close behind you. 
You turned, keeping the doorknob in your grin, and immediately flattened yourself against the door as he took a step closer. 
So close. He was so fucking close and it was suddenly all you could think of. 
“W-What?”
“You know, the CDC warns that door handles should be washed every 20 to 40 hours To prevent bacteria like Escherchia coli and Staphylococcus aureus from-” You ignored his words, drowning everything else out as you tried to dampen the fire burning under your skin.
“Cock?” You said, all attempts obviously not working. 
“Staphylococcus, yes. It can cause Adenovirus, Rhinovirus, not to mention-” 
“Okay! Okay, Spencer. Taking my hand off the handle now.” 
Finally, you twisted it and walked backwards into your room, walking backwards a few steps before your foot caught on a stray pile of books. 
“What the-” you cried, waiting for the impact of your landing as you swung out your arms frantically for purchase, screwing your eyes shut as you found none. 
Instead, you found an arm snaked around your waist, another wrapping your hip tight as Spencer Reid cradled your body to his own. 
“Thanks,” you breathed out, not even hearing the words yourself for how much air was in them. How was it possible to expel air and hold your breath at the same time? Because that was how it felt being in his arms: at once a sigh and a stopping of all bodily functions barring want. 
“I thought this was your office, Y/N. Surely you should know the layout by now.”
Moment over. You pushed at his chest to stand upright, and he stepped backwards, removing his hands from your person. 
“Very funny. We both know these are your books. Setting traps for me now, Spencer?” 
You moved around the piles of books again as he flicked the light switch, moving the opposite way around your desks, before meeting you again next to yours. 
“You're usually more observant than this. Is there something wrong today?” 
“What, like Adenovirus or Rhinovirus?” 
“No, like something…” he searched for the right words, pace slowing as he tried not to scare you away by talking with you like this.
“Like something on your mind.” 
You snorted, leaning down to switch on your computer, and also to avoid his eye contact. Unfortunately, academic curiosity had gotten to you in the last few weeks, and you'd read some of his psychological papers. You knew exactly what it was the BAU was apparently so good at, and you didn't want him to know that you'd imagined him balls deep in you hours before. 
“Not friends, Spencer. If there's something I need to talk about, I'll talk to a friend,” you said, standing straight again and turning to him again. You still avoided eye contact, but it didn't matter. His eyes weren't on your face but angled further down, like he'd been checking out your ass as you bent over or something. 
No. No, you weren't going down that train of thought. 
“Or even better, my therapist.” You were planning on the words being a bit more playful, but your voice came out deeper than you expected it, more gravely somehow. 
Your bedroom voice, you were using your stupid fucking bedroom voice on Spencer Reid. 
You cut yourself off again before you said anything else. Before he touched you or didn't touch you, and you got to test your earlier theory about which would be the more demeaning reaction. 
“I have class in ten. Clean up before I get back,” you ordered, and you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up when he replied. 
“I don't take direction well, Y/N.” 
No, you didn't think he would. Neither did you though.
For a week, you tiptoed around the man, your words sharp, but your body weak to him. 
By day, you were hurling insults back and forth, messing up his papers and screwing with him via bookshelf again. 
“YOUR…FLY…IS….OPEN.” 
“VERY….MATURE.”
“MADE…YOU…LOOK…THOUGH.”
“BUSY….LOOKING…AT…OTHER….THINGS.”
“LIKE…THE…UNDERGRADS…THROWING…THEMSELVES…AT…YOU…?”
“LIKE…THE…PROFESSOR…I'M APPARENTLY…DATING” 
“Very fucking funny, Spencer,” you sighed at the last message, throwing the books off the shelf and pilling them up on the floor. 
“Don't even for a second entertain the idea of making that gossip a reality.” 
He grinned at you from behind his desk. 
“Okay.”
“Don't even - don't even think about it,” you said, stepping over his desk and poking at his chest as his smile deepened.
“Heard.” 
“I'm serious, Spencer, don't-” 
“You've thought about it.” You froze in shock at his words, as if your blood wasn't sure whether to run cold or burn hot and fast. 
“What?” You spat the words at him, unable to stop them coming out any other way. 
“You've thought about entertaining the gossip. You've thought about it a lot.” 
You needed to deny him, but he was right. By day, you tried to torment him, but by night, he did torment you. A week of wet dreams, of imagining him taking you over every inch of your office, of sleepless rest and failed orgams, and you could not escape. 
“No,” you said with a whisper, shaking your head and trying again even as your voice cracked from the lie and your body's cry for pleasure, for this man. 
“No, I haven’t- I don't-” You took a deep breath, but you knew it was no good, as his hand grabbed yours and flattened it against his chest. 
“Your pupils are dilated, your pulse is heightened, and your legs are practically clamped shut. Your mouth is dry, and I'm not sure if you've noticed yet, Y/N, but you're shaking.” 
“All signs of anger, Spencer, as you're well aware.” 
He let go of your wrist and sat back in his seat, just out of reach of you again. 
“Shame,” he whispered under his breath, nearly low enough that you didn't catch it, as he flipped open his book and continued whatever the fuck it was he even did in this office. 
You ignored it, anger really flooding you now, warring the heat of arousal that was firmly settled in your body for dominance. 
The anger won out. 
You grabbed books from your desk, files, and papers from the side table by the couch and your laptop from your desk and left the room quickly. 
You slammed the door, and you didn't look back, knowing that if you did, you'd see his winning smirk staring right back at you.
You marched yourself right to the staff administration office and put in for a week of leave. Spencer had one more week of work at the university, and then he would go back to being a regular FBI agent. 
Your paths wouldn't cross because you wouldn't let them cross, not when it meant for certain that you would give in.
You spent the week working to distract yourself from work. You finished books for your next semester courses, highlighting the better articles and essays to use, going through each bibliography to find better sources if they weren't good enough. You wrote more of a research paper you didn't have time to think about with so much going on. You corresponded with students, with TAs, with the other professors who wanted to know where you were. 
Okay, that was a lie. You aired the professors, but you did look out for any inboxes from him. Surprisingly, there were none. 
You spent a week throwing yourself head first into your work, and still, each night, you felt his phantom touch on you. No matter how exhausted, your brain still co jured images of his hands grasping your wrists, pushing them above your head and forcing his cock into you, his lips biting against your skin, the fire of his kisses leaving scars where they trailed down. 
You were running on three hours of sleep per night, sure, but at least you were as far as you could possibly get from the man ruining your life. 
You poured yourself a glass of wine the next Sunday, knowing that when you went back to work the next day, he'd be gone.
You wrapped yourself in blankets and put everything else off for the day, ordering food and eating it and not moving as you worked your way through boxes of pizza. 
It was when you finished your first glass and went to pour yourself another that there was a furious pounding at your door. 
“Y/N, I know you're in there, open the door.” His hand sounded again, and you nearly dropped the glass at the sound of Apencer Reid's voice. 
Your body acted alone, immediately following his directions as you damn near tripped over your own feet to open the door for him. 
Throughout all of your arguments, all of the quips you'd thrown at him, every stupid little thing you'd done to get under his skin, you had not once seen Spencer Reid looking this angry. 
His brow was furrowed uncomfortably, as if it were frozen in place. Gone was his perpetual smirk. 
“Spencer, what the fuck a-” 
“Thoughtless. Careless. Do you even know what you've done?” He snapped at you, stepping into your apartment and closing the door behind himself as he immediately walked into your space and began touching things.
“Stop! Fucking stop it, Spencer!” You said grabbing his arm and pulling him around to face you. He brushed you off quickly and worked his way through papers you'd left on your coffee table. 
“No. You stormed out over a week ago, you blocked my number, you did not answer any of my emails-” 
“I didn't get any emails,” you spit back, pushing yourself between him and your things now, bodies so close they were touching. 
“Then you blocked my email, too. You don't even know what I'm looking for or the damage you could have done, do you?” His hands were on you then, not threateningly, as you'd expect, his anger still burning through him if his shaking voice had anything to say for it. 
His hands stroked up your sides and back down again, smoothing away your need to think. 
“My files. My team sent me a file. It was on the coffee table, and you took it with you when you left. The case is ongoing, and I'm flying out tomorrow, and without some of the classified information in that file, we will be at a disadvantage. Our odds of catching our unsub fall from 83% to 47% without all of the pertinent information.” 
Your breath hitched as he leaned in closer. 
“So yes, I'm going to go through your things, and if you're a good girl, you'll root through with me and help me find it.” 
He stepped away then, and you held your tongue. As much as you hated him, he was right. You knew what he did, you knew who he was and to trust him not to lie to you about his chances without this information. 
“The files on the coffee table are research notes, everything I took from the office is in that case over there,” you said pointing at a bag still where you'd dropped it by the door a week earlier. 
He walked to it and rooted through it quickly before finding the file he obviously needed and letting some of the tension out of his shoulders. 
“You're probably glad to see the back of me, right?” He said, laughing bitterly as he turned back around to you. 
“Obviously not as happy as you are,” you spat back, stepping back over to him. 
“If you ever speak to me that way again,” you started, spitting at him in the most threatening voice you could muster. “It won't be a fucking unsub that ruins your life.” 
“And how are you going to manage that, Y/N?” He said, stepping closer to you until he had you backed up against the wall, trapped in by his bigger frame, using it to his advantage to intimidate. 
“How will you manage to ruin my life,” he said, his voice softer as he finished his sentence, but not by much. “When you shake with just every time I get close?” 
“This is not lust,” you growled the words out, but try as you damn might, you were shaking, vibrating even. 
“Then what is it?” 
“Hatred, dislike, loathing, detestation, abhorrence, fuck Spencer, you can pick up a thesaurus yourself and find out.”
“Yeah. Okay. I'll believe your lies for a second.” He walked away, he was walking away but the fire was ringing in your ears and you needed him to stay fucking put so he could take it all. 
“You're a jackass.”
“Original.” 
“You slammed into my life, expecting me to bend to your will and be at the mercy of your needs, your wants. Your office space, your fucking case files, your job-” 
“None of that was my choice.” 
“And it wasn't mine either, but at least I fucking left you alone. I spent the week in this apartment and left you the fuck alone, and you couldn't even allow me the same.”
His focus was back on you again, but you refused to be backed against a wall this time. 
“What did you say?” 
“You will not let me know peace. I have lost my security, my patience, my fucking sanity with each word you have said, my peace of mind, my sleep, my fucking sanity, Spencer.” Your chest was heaving, touching his with each exhale as he too held his place in front of you. He was so close, you'd practically spat the words directly into his mouth. 
“How is that my fault?” He whispered, voice still dripping with disdain even as his hands again wrapped themselves in your hair, and he tugged your head back, baring your neck to him as he leaned down into you. 
“How do you know that you're not doing the same to me?” 
You refused to answer, though, meeting his eyes for one last second before you grabbed his hair in your hands and yanked him down to your mouth. 
It wasn't so much a kiss as a battle for dominance, each trying to torture a surrender from the other with clashing tongues and teeth. 
You made the first move, but he was obviously expecting it, and he didn't even pause before launching his own attack, finally pushing past your strong defence to walk you back to the sofa you'd abandoned earlier. 
His tongue still lashed against yours as you retreated, refusing to give up your upper hand even as you moaned into his touch. The couch hit the back of your knees, buckling, and you silently cursed your lack of sleep for leaving you so unstable right now. 
No, that wasn't true. It was him. He had left you so unstable, moving between happy and playful to angry and wrathful in the space of a week without you, and you'd been denying yourself the ability to even entertain any of this happening. Now that it was, your body was unprepared, totally at his mercy, as he pushed you to your back and pushed up your skirt. 
“You're already so fucking wet,” he groaned slipping two fingers inside you as you moaned around him, no longer capable of thought. This was the moment, this was when he was going to make you submit to him finally. 
Instead, he dropped to his knees and you gasped as his to guess found your sweet cunt and he began sucking to your clit. 
You were on fire, skin scorched from the inside out, spreading in waves from your pussy to the furthest regions of your body. 
With one hand, he spread your thighs further apart and pushed his entire face further into your cunt, tongue pushing inside right by his fingers, nose pushed right up against your clit as he didn't relent. Every movement was another curse falling from your mouth. 
“Shit, Spencer, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whimpered, hips rocking back and forth as you tried to fuck his face, begging for more. 
To your surprise, he didn't keep your hips still but let you keep riding his face, riding his fingers as you chased your first orgasm.  
It came quickly, overwhelming you with the impact, jolting through your body like a lightning bolt as he let your hips shake and crash across his tongue. 
When he finally pulled his face away, it was glistening, and he wasted no time shoving his tongue back in your mouth. His message was clear - he may have let you take whatever pleasure you'd wanted with him, but he was still the one in control. 
You trailed kisses along his cheeks, neck, shoulders as he divested himself of clothing, shirt, belt, pants, ripping at yours to free your body as well, until the two of you were only left with underwear and you'd picked up every last drop of your cum left on his skin.
“On your back, now,” he said, and you complied. You spread your legs, and rubbed at your still wet cunt, jolting as he finally lined himself up with your cunt. 
But he didn't push in yet. Instead he wrapped two arms under your knees and pulled you closer, so his cock rested over the top of your stomach, and leaned down, his face hovering inches over your own, holding himself up with a forearm rested just above your head. 
“You see that?” He said, glancing down. “That is how much I am going to fill you. That is how deep I am going to ease into you. That is how far I am going to go to claim you. You can take it like a good girl, right?” 
“Just shut up and put your cock inside me, Spencer.” 
“You're so fucking pushy for a submissive little slut,” he said, smiling finally. 
“I am not a-” you started to protest, but he slid inside of your hot cunt and you lost the ability to focus. 
“Not a what, Y/N? Speak up,” thrusting shallowly as your cunt grabbed him and held tight. 
“I'm not a- SPENCER!” You screamed his name as he pulled out quickly, thrusting into you again with a speed and strength that had you wrapping your arms and legs around him tightly, fighting for him to stay right there deep inside. 
“Not a sub? Y/N, you're whimpering and drooling right now. You're three seconds away from begging for my cock, why the fuck can you not be honest with yourself?” 
“Fuck…you,” you said between moans as he rutted into you like a beast. He wasn't man anymore, bit monster, and he was claiming you inch by disgustingly perfect inch. 
“Let go. Let me take care of you, let me control you. Come on, baby, you know how good it would feel,” he said, before ducking his head and wrapping his tongue around a nipple. 
You screamed his name again, but you still tried to resist. 
“Come on, Y/N. Show me. Cum on my cock.” 
For a brief moment, you'd thought you'd resisted the demand. But then your brain faded, and your nails cut into his back like daggers as your body followed his commands and you came on his cock for a second time that night. 
“Perfect. One more, you can do one more,” he said, kissing your lips and lifting himself back up so he was sitting on his knees as he again picked up the pace. 
You mumbled his name over and over again as he fucked out all of the frustration in your body. Every thing either of you had said or done melted away in the glow of pleasure, your body buzzing from the feeling of him taking ownership of you. 
“One more, Y/N. One more, you need to cum one more time.”
“I can't, I can't I can't I can't, Spencer I can't I really can't,” you said, voice growing pathetically whiny as the tears sprang to your eyes and you choked back a sob. 
“Yes you can, one more. Together, we can do it together,” he said, groaning as you clenched around him.” 
He claimed your mouth again, his hand wrapping around your throat as he cut off your air supply for a second, then two, then three, as your ears buzzed and you finally slipped over the edge again. 
But this time, as promised, you weren't the only one caught in the pain of pleasure. Spencer collapsed on top of you as his dick spurted inside you, holding you close as he unloaded everything he had into you. 
He sat there, warming his cock as he lazily kissed open mouth kisses into every inch of your shoulders, collar bone and chest. Everywhere he could reach without pulling out of you and leaving you there. 
After weeks of no sleep because of him, it was his soft lips that finally enticed you into the hands of the sandman, his weight a comfort as you closed your eyes. 
When you woke in your bed, clean and clothed, he was gone, and so was every sign that he'd ever been there in the first place. 
🔖 @stillhere197 @understandingsunrise @mindfullycriminal @aliteralsemicolon @r-3dlips @alexafromamazon15 @jasf444 @subunitless @thebloomingeagle @lackingoriginalthoughts @empressgraytea @nox-sprite @alondralolll @allspicestones @chiyozai @i_heart_mgg @2hiigh2cry @tiyuel @jiuseoks @readinglatenights @placidus @dreamsarebig @pisceslovrr @waywardgoddess66 @tampon_racecar @kbaby-024 @luvdella @feyresqueen @a1dyn @pleasantwitchgarden @kolasbombaf @lovehadlovelost @kissesforspence @moonchildooh @bubbleebubz @theoraekenslover @melagem02 @calypso-read @ari-aurelia
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blond3ang3l · 4 months ago
Text
Eren is a geek lover. He absolutely is enamored with you. Watching your lips with every word you spoke. The way you got excited telling him about every single new detail of the things you got interested in. Eren worked hard as a famous rnb singer, long days in the studio trying to perfect his songs. Then having to perform when he literally had the WORST anxiety known to man. It always felt like someone needed him and was on his ass about something.
But he did it all for you. For moment like this were he could come home and listen to you tell him. About the things you’ve watched in your huge list of video essays that you had in a playlist on YouTube. How you lit up telling him different facts from how the dating game killer had a coworker that also happened to be a serial killer and he didn’t know to the conspiracy theory of the 27 club, no matter what you said it always made you so happy and seeing you all giddy and stimming while you talked to him made him so content with his life.
…and his dick very hard
“I know cotards syndrome, Koro, Diogenes, fregoli, hypochondria, pica, capgras, boanthropy, apotenmophilia, kulver bulcy, ekbom, erotomania, Stendhal. Pics is like one of the more well known. You know that show my strange addiction that we watch together? Yeah so like those people who eat the random shit like the lady who ate rocks- omg that reminds me!”
Erens ass was not listening one bit. He was watching you, watching your body. You guys had been apart for a little over a month so could do a very short tour in another country and he was sick as fuck that he couldn’t bring you. Everyone knew it too. His attitude fucking sucked that trip. He was antsy, his anxiety was through the roof, he snapped at everyone, overall he fucking hated it. But now, sitting here with you he finally felt at peace.
You were sitting on his lap, yapping his ear off. His eyes couldn’t help but wander to your legs which lead him to notice you were wearing his boxers. The way your thick thighs filled them out compared to his own, he couldn’t resist grabbing them. Grabbing them led to groping them, which lead to him sneaking his hands under the boxer. This caught you off guard and stopped your sudden rant with a small gasp. He chuckled and slipped two fingers in his mouth covering them in his saliva before slipping them back under the boxers.
“Cmon baby, keeping telling me about the little videos.”
He had to have been joking. No way was he just gonna pretend he wasn’t teasing you. Like his finger wasn’t circling around your aching hole.
“Go on I’m waiting baby. Keeping telling me bout what you learned.”
As much as you wanted to roll your eyes you knew it would get you no where. This wasn’t a new thing, eren was always so needy. It was always worse after a tour. Even if it had only been a relatively short one.
“Okay well like I was saying, erotomania is something that a lot of celebrity stalkers have. Especially kpop ones. It’s when someone genuinely believes they’re in a relationship with a celebrity. Remember that girl that literally would follow you to the airport? That crazy bitch probably had it.”
Eren couldn’t help but bite his lip as he listened to you go on. God you looked so fucking good. Your hair looked so good. He was so glad he got you your own personal stylist so you never had to worry about needing to go to a shop or someone else’s house. You smelled so good too. That vanilla body oil you used was just fucking irresistible. He didn’t know whether he liked that one or the strawberry poundcake one more. Either way it only made him want you more.
He slowly slid a finger inside you, watching your face contort as you tried to keep your composure. A deep chuckle erupted from his throat. He missed seeing your face. Facetime wasn’t enough. Having to sneak off to the bathroom to jerk off to pictures and homemade pornos wasn’t enough for him. He needed to see you. To feel you. He slid his free hand up your shirt, groping your chest as he thrusted finger in out and of you.
“R-ren, fuck. Cmon baby, how am i supposed to talk while you’re doing this.”
Your whines only made eren smile as he thrusted a second finger inside you. He watched you as you threw your head back while crying out. He was enjoying every second of teasing you. You were so impatient and he knew it. That’s why he catered to every need you had. You hated having to wait and tended to be bratty when you did. So he made everything about you. Whatever you wanted you had. But this time he needed to be selfish. He wanted to watch you come undone first. And that’s exactly what we’re doing.
Your tight grip on his shoulders told him everything. Your nails were digging deep into his skin as you pushed back against his fingers. You didn’t want to admit it but you missed Ren so much. Your fingers and toys didn’t compare to what he could do. How he could prolong your orgasm by teasing you. He could feel you leaking all over his thigh, his boxers now all sticky along with his thigh. He slowly slid his fingers out of you causing you whine.
He didn’t feel bad at all. It was about him this time. He gripped your hips dragging you along his thigh, making it even more of a mess. You hid your face out of embarrassment. It was too much at how he could make you a whiny mess. No other man could do this to you but him.
You couldn’t help the small noises that fell past your lips as you grinded against his thigh. Eren shivered feeling your warm breath against the side of his neck. The way you tugged at his hair he knew you were close. He could read your body like a damn book.
“Cmon baby, almost there. Let me see you.”
“F-fuck ren, I cant.”
Eren wasn’t having that at all. You couldn’t what? You were gonna disobey him? No chance in hell. He gripped your jaw forcing you to look at him
“You telling me no baby? I could have sworn I said I wanted to see your face. I’ve been gone for a long time and you think your whining is gonna stop me?”
You loved moment like this when Eren suddenly got serious. He was…well he was very off Standish which came off to mean as others. But he babied you. The moment you told him no thought after he told you to do something? It was like a switch flipped in him. His tight grip on your face was only turning you on more which made you rut against his leg faster.
“You’re gonna be good aren’t you baby? Gonna cum for me like a good little whore?”
You eagerly nodded as you bit your lip. You could only cry out his name as you came all over his thigh, making a mess in his boxers. Eren kept his grip on your face to make sure you maintained eye contact the entire time. A smirk creeping on his face as you came.
“There you go baby, let’s go get you cleaned up..”
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@merakidoll Eren fic just like I promised🫶🏽
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Based of a conversation with my boyfriend where I literally was going on about mental illness during my rant about the many video essays I watch
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allllium · 18 days ago
Note
Jason Todd x childhood friend fem
fluff and potential angst
Jason runs into childhood friend from befor he died and she recognizes him
Back in Time
[ Jason Todd x Childhood Best Friend!Reader ]
~ Fluff, Maybe a little hurt/comfort, WC: 1,089
~ I'm so sorry this took so long 😭 Every time I went to write this it's like all ideas flew out of my head, but I finally got it done and I hope it meets your expectations<3
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"Jason?"
He freezes.
He wasn't expecting to hear your voice today.
He wasn't expecting to hear your voice ever again.
Once he came back, you were gone.
He would say he tried to look for you but that isn't true. He thought your leaving was the universe telling him to leave you alone.
But now you're here. You're here and you recognize him. He doesn't know how to respond. He knows you know he heard you, otherwise he wouldn't have stopped moving.
The first thing he hears in your voice is the sadness. Not anger like he would've expected. Not even a hint of confusion. Just something sad.
After a minute of him being unmoving, clearly lost in his thoughts, he felt a tap on his shoulder.
"Jason." You say.
This time it's not a question.
After he hears you a second time, he brings himself to turn around and look at you.
"Hey."
"Hey." He can't tell if you're about to cry or smile.
"I'm sorry." He immediately apologizes. Maybe for leaving or maybe for not finding you. He's not quite sure.
"For what?" You ask and take a deep breath.
He sees the way tears form in your eyes and has the strange urge to cry himself.
"I don't know. I just feel like I need to."
"You don't. Dick told me what happened. That's not something you need to be sorry for." You say it so surely he doesn't know how to respond.
"I was gonna find you."
"That's not your job. I mean a phone call would've been nice." You shrug and let out a small, awkward chuckle.
"I didn't know what to do." He tells you quietly.
"I would assume." You look around the sidewalk you're on. You're standing in front of what looks like a busy shop, people walk in and out every couple seconds.
"Where did you go?" He asks you after a moment. Probably to determine whether or not he could've found you.
"I was here. I mean I stayed in Gotham just not where I was before."
"If I had known you were so close I would've gone to you but when they told you left I assumed-"
"Jason, you don't have to defend yourself." You cut him off quickly, "If I died and came back the last thing on my list would be finding someone who left."
He nods. "This might be easier if you were at least a little mad." He smiles softly at you, watching more tears shine in your eyes.
"I missed you too much to be mad right now."
He goes to say something back but someone walking by bumps into your shoulder.
"Maybe we should get coffee or something?" He suggests, not wanting to keep blocking the sidewalk traffic.
"Are you free?"
"Oh yeah, yeah." Dick can wait, he thinks to himself.
"Then yeah, coffee sounds great."
You both walk into the coffee shop and order whatever drinks sound good. Jason chooses a table against the wall and by a giant window.
You sit awkwardly in silence as you both try and think of what to say.
"How are you doing?" You ask, after multiple minutes of nothing.
"I'm okay, I think." He shrugs and takes a sip of his drink. You take notice of his fingers tapping nervously along the side of the cup.
"That's good." You nod and sigh.
"How are you?"
"I've been better." You answer honestly. Your fingers also tap nervously along your cup.
"I'm sorry. I don't know why this is so weird."
You laugh at his words, "I do. It's been a while."
"And I'm guessing we've both changed." He smiles.
"Changed? No shit Jason, look at you." You smile at him in a reassuring way. You can clearly see how dying has changed him.
"Yeah I guess I did get a little taller." He jokes and shakes his head.
"Maybe just an inch or two." You play along, laughing as you speak.
"I missed this. I missed you." He tells you with a sudden seriousness in his tone.
"Well good thing it isn't going away this time." You reach across the table and grab his hand.
It was never unusual for you and Jason to be touchy. That's just the kinda friendship you had. But this feels different.
Instead of being a friendly touch between best friends, it's more like a reassurance that's he's actually alive. A piece of you feels relief that you're not imagining this.
"I really hope so." He wishes with a frown.
"It won't. If you think I'm leaving your side anytime soon you're very very wrong."
"What's one more person to the gang that follows me everywhere?" He laughs again and squeezes your hand. It's the first time he's felt so free to last in a while.
"Where is that gang by the way? I would've expected one of them to be here by now."
"Oh I left while they weren't looking. I needed time to myself."
"You snuck out? Jason, they're probably panicking." You scold him softly.
"It's fine I'm meeting with Dick later."
You shake your head in disapproval but a smile on your face gives you away once again.
For some reason no matter how sad you are, a smile can't leave your lips.
You fall back into a silence but this time it's not awkward at all. It's a comfortable silence that reminds you of old times.
"I should probably get going. Dick will be pissed if I'm late."
"Yeah I don't doubt it." You recall the many times Dick has given long lectures about being late to anything he's involved in.
"I'll call you." He swears, standing up from his seat at the table.
"You better. I know where to find you." You stand up as well and finish off your drink.
"Yes you do." He agrees but doesn't leave.
You stand together in front of your table. Both of you are waiting for the other to move first.
Just as you're about to make the move to leave he steps forward and pulls you into a hug.
You immediately hug back and feel the tears reappear in your eyes.
"I really missed you." He whispers.
"I really missed you too." You whisper back.
You savor every moment of the embrace. Not wanting to leave out of fear that he would leave again.
But as you watch him walk away to meet with his brother, you're overcome with the happiness of knowing your best friend is here.
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mcflymemes · 7 months ago
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THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT - THE ANTHOLOGY BY TAYLOR SWIFT PROMPT LIST *  assorted lyrics from the album, some lines slightly adapted for meme purposes but feel free to adjust as necessary
even if it's handcuffed, i'm leaving here with you.
trust me. i can handle a dangerous man.
i love you. it's ruining my life.
does it feel all right to not know me?
i am who i am 'cause you trained me.
quick. tell me something awful.
i loved you the way that you were.
we were just kids, babe.
i can fix him.
you and i go from one kiss to getting married.
you said i'm the love of your life.
way up there, i actually love it.
i just don't understand how you don't miss me.
do you hate me?
did you think i had it in me?
what if i told you i'm back?
i still miss the smoke.
i'm not trying to exaggerate, but i think i might die if it happened.
you look like stevie nicks.
it's hell on earth to be heavenly.
i still can't believe it.
this happens once every few lifetimes.
didn't you hear? they called it all off.
it's happening again.
my friends say it isn't right to be scared.
i might just die.
fuck you if i can't have us.
tell me about the first time you saw me.
are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me?
no one's ever had me... not like you.
stay away from her.
there wouldn't be this if there hadn't been you.
i don't think you've changed much.
that's where i was when i lost it all.
life was always easier on you than it was on me.
i hoped you'd return.
do you believe me now?
what if your eyes looked up and met mine one more time?
what are the chances you'd be downtown?
is it something i did?
oh, we must stop meeting like this.
they say what doesn't kill you makes you aware.
i'm not a donor, but i'd give you my heart if you needed it.
looking backwards might be the only way to move forwards.
the story isn't mine anymore.
what a charming saturday!
none of it is changing.
wild winds are death to the candle.
one bad seed kills the garden.
i'm bitter, but i swear i'm fine.
this place made me feel worthless.
i didn't want to come down.
everything had been above board.
blood's thick, but nothing like a payroll.
you can mark my words that i said it first.
the professor said to write what you know.
all of this to say, i hope you're okay.
your words are still just ringing in my head.
i built a legacy which you can't undo.
who do i have to speak to to change the prophecy?
the effects were temporary.
no, i'm not coming to my senses.
babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it.
you know you're good when you can even do it with a broken heart.
i guess a lesser woman would've lost hope.
thought of calling you, but you won't pick up.
you're a professional.
long may you reign.
you're an animal. you are bloodthirsty.
now i seem to be scared to go outside.
i don't believe in good luck.
i hate it here.
if i'd been there, i'd hate it.
only the gentle survived.
i'm lonely, but i'm good.
you have no room in your dreams for regrets.
i thought it was just goodbye for now.
are you still a mind reader?
let it once be me.
i haven't decided yet.
i still dream of him.
i'm so afraid i sealed my fate.
it was always the same searing pain.
i can't forgive the way you made me feel.
it wasn't a fair fight or a clean kill.
she used to say she wished that you were dead.
tell me all your secrets.
they tried to warn you about me.
you're in terrible danger.
i'm the life you chose.
yes, i'm haunted, but i'm feeling just fine.
no one asks any questions here.
tell me i'm despicable. say it's unforgivable.
i'm running back home to you.
you should see your faces.
you knew the price going in.
was any of it true?
who the fuck was that guy?
i don't ever want you back.
did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed?
you don't get to tell me you feel bad.
you wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me.
am i allowed to cry?
there's no such thing as bad thoughts. only your actions talk.
they're going to crucify me anyway.
i know i'm just repeating myself.
that's the closest i've come to my heart exploding.
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1d1195 · 5 months ago
Text
Most I
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Read Most here | ~3.9k words
From me: I've been watching sad Instagram reels to feel something so I wanted to just write those feelings out.
Warnings: angsty af. Like you're gonna be sad in this part. It's only some fluff and a lot of love, but it's a lot of angst. Just like an absolute ton of it. Also you're supposed to envision Harry as a firefighter so you have to deal with that at the same time.
Summary: She was his soulmate when he didn’t believe in them. He was the love of her life–the one she planned to write about. But was soulmates going to be enough?
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“Hi baby,” her giggle was infectious. The kind of laugh that sounded like music and felt like sunshine. He didn’t even need to see her to know there was a smile on her face. The very same smile that had been his favorite one to see since they were young. Only recently did it turn into the one that he loved so much. Well, at least he could admit how much he loved it openly. It made his own smile appear; just knowing when he turned around, he was going to see those pretty lips, her straight teeth (although when he envisioned it, he still remembered it before she had braces; teeth just slightly crooked at the cutest angle—but he would never tell her that). The word baby was for him. She was in his heart. So completely, so wholly. He loved the way the word baby sounded in her voice. How it left her smiling lips. He had dreamed about it for ages. Since he was old enough to name that she really was his crush.
But in the end, he didn’t even have to tell her he liked the name baby. It was just the one she chose.
Like she knew that’s what he wanted.
“Hey kitten,” he chuckled, smiling over his shoulder as she approached. She wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. She nuzzled her face against his back. His shirt smelled so intoxicatingly good—like him. He was warm, perfect. He continued his conversation with Niall. Resting his hand on top of hers, settled on the front of his stomach, right above his belt. She stayed glued to him. Niall hardly paid any attention to her. Not in a mean way, of course; no, she was simply there because she was supposed to be. She was a permanent fixture—no, an extension of Harry’s body. When she wasn’t around, it was the first thing anyone asked. Where was she? Was she okay? She liked to be thought of as a package deal. Even her mom, for all her faults, always wondered where Harry was when he wasn’t there. It was like he was the oxygen in the air and when he wasn’t around it was hard for her to breathe.
She loved Harry. She was so in love with him, she thought you could take a sample of her blood and find love for him in the cells at a molecular level. Loved him beyond description. She didn’t think it was possible to love someone that much until she did. It was the stuff of dreams and romance novels. Every time he looked at her, she was overcome with the feeling like he never wanted to stop looking at her.
Harry truly was in love with her. Astronomically in love with her. He thought he would need to create a new unit of measurement just to explain how vast and deeply he loved her. But there wasn’t any justice for it. He simply loved her. Like his life depended on it. He loved her more than he could describe. More than anyone could ever really witness.
He encouraged all her dreams and ambitions throughout the years. When she wanted to be an astronaut he stayed up until three in the morning researching workout routines for them to practice in his backyard so he could help train her for a life on the space station. The week she wanted to be a baker was spent experimenting with flour and sugar. Failing miserably when they set the smoke alarm off so many times that his mum insisted that they take a break.
But it was her writing that he encouraged more than anything else.
He didn’t care what she chose to write. He read it all. Essays, articles, love stories, a grocery list turned into poetry when it came from her pen. He bought her notebooks upon notebooks for birthdays and Christmases. When she was feeling upset, he never brought her flowers; a new pen and notebook, that was all she needed.
People who didn’t know them well, said they were crazy. Falling in love at a young age like that. It wasn’t a good idea. Harry was going to leave for college a year before her and it seemed doomed before it started. But to her it didn’t matter. Because each of those notebooks that Harry never opened without her permission, never strayed from the page she let him read, all were inscribed on the inside front cover with a heart she had drawn and written their two names inside. Like she was going to write their very future into existence.
Yes, Harry loved her, but it was more than that. There wasn’t anyone sweeter. No one was prettier—inside or out. Her kindness was so touching he couldn’t believe someone like her was in love with him some days. It seemed unfair. If there was a perfect person, it was Harry. She was sure.
Harry didn’t believe in soulmates. But whatever she was and how she fit into his life, he was certain it was as close to a soulmate as he would ever get.
So finally, when Harry was finally exhausted from waiting, the day before his last year of school started—before he would be going off and applying to universities, he needed her to know. “You know I’m in love with you, right?” He asked, point-blank.
She smiled.
That gorgeous, perfect smile that melted him right to his core.
“Yes,” she whispered, and she opened one of the notebooks that were stacked beside her bed, all the ones from over the years that she had hidden exactly what she wanted on the inside front cover. “I know.”
Harry saw the hearts, their names.
She was his soulmate. Whether he liked it or not.
So, when they held hands in the school hallways, went to astronomy class together, and sat so close to one another at lunch and in study hall, no one really paid any mind to them. It seemed like most everyone already thought they were a couple, so their adorableness didn’t change how anyone perceived one another. No one noticed how in love Harry was with her because it seemed like nothing had changed at all.
No one cared that she loved Harry with every piece of her heart. Every part of her mind and soul because it seemed like she always had.
Well. 
Almost everyone.
*
Their love wasn’t without fault. Harry worried about the future, if she would grow tired of him because he wanted nothing more than to live in this town of theirs, the place where he met the love of his life and take care of it in thanks for bringing her to him.
“I can write from anywhere, Harry,” she reminded him. “Actually, I would go nowhere to be with you,” she smiled. It was corny. A poem she would probably jot down later before she fell asleep.
“Y’would go nowhere,” he repeated. That dimpled smile of his made her heartbeat twice as fast. His hands slid around her waist. It nearly made her shiver even though it wasn’t the first time he touched her, and it wouldn’t be the last.
She nodded; her hands linked behind his neck. His forehead pressed to hers and he brushed the tip of his nose against hers. His mouth felt like a magnet, and he was going to draw her in whether she wanted to be drawn in or not (but she did—oh, did she want). “Nowhere with you seems like heaven.”
“When y’write your first poetry book, are y’gonna dedicate it to me?”
She nodded. “Absolutely.”
“Yeah? Y’really gonna dedicate it t’nobody?”
“You’re not a nobody,” she rolled her eyes.
“M’not going anywhere. M’jus’ a nobody from nowhere.”
“Harry,” she giggled. “You’re not a nobody... this isn’t nowhere. You’re... everywhere. And you’ll always be my somebody,” she promised. 
Her lips were touching his. Not quite kissing, but as she nodded, they brushed in a half-kiss that she didn’t have enough words to adequately describe the feeling and how it would put any full kiss written by any other author to shame. “Think I want t’have your body all t’myself,” he pulled her closer, somehow. His body was so warm and when he smiled, his mouth curved upwards made her lips follow his. She couldn’t take it a moment longer. She sank into the kiss, feeling like the oxygen was almost too pure for her. Leaving her breathless but wanting more of it all the same.
He was her first kiss, her first poem, her first love, and her first everything. There wasn’t an inch of skin that hadn’t been touched by him. So really, the poems, the stories, the writing came naturally. Harry was her muse. There was nothing else to do but write.
*
But her own insecurities in her writing abilities and her appearance made her nervous that she would hold Harry back. 
Harry wanted to be a firefighter for their sweet little town; and she wasn’t oblivious, he had the body for it. She joked with him that he was going to sell thousands of dollars’ worth of calendars when the time came. “Are y’going t’be the one buying thousands of dollars’ worth of calendars?” He chuckled.
“Obviously,” she rolled her eyes. He kissed every inch of her face until she giggled more and more.
“Kitten?” he whispered.
“Yes?”
“M’gonna buy thousands of dollars’ worth of y’books.”
“With my calendar money?”
He tickled her until she squealed.
Harry was beautiful. More beautiful than she felt on most days, and it pained her sometimes to look in the mirror. But it always seemed like Harry knew when those days hit her hardest. “Do y’know you are the most beautiful person I know?” He whispered to her, as if it were a secret. But he would have shouted it from the rooftops. He showed all their friends the pictures he had taken of her and put them in their group chat and reminded them to tell her how pretty she looked. It made her giggle and shy from the attention. He would brush his fingers along her cheek, “So, so pretty,” he reminded her. “Should be illegal t’look at you for this long. Hogging all your beauty t’myself.”
But they always reassured one another that this was it. She was his soulmate—even when he didn’t believe in them. He was the love of her life—the one she planned to write about until she couldn’t physically write anymore.
It helped that people like Eleanor, Louis, Niall, Sarah, and Mitch, all assured her too that no one loved anyone as much as Harry loved her. Everyone loved them together. It wasn’t close to the amount they loved each other, but it was a good amount—one that suggested everyone knew they were meant for each other.
Almost everyone.
*
Lauren was the same year as she was. She was popular, smart, insanely beautiful. In another dimension, she was sure Harry was meant to be with Lauren. But they were a good pair. Lauren was kind and almost always worked with her on school projects. Arguably one of her closest friends outside her main group of friends she shared with Harry.
When they were out and about, Harry watched out for the girls in the group nearly as much as he watched out for the girl that made his heart stutter. He kept spare hair ties around his wrist for when drinking at parties got to be too much and he worried their hair would fall into the toilet. “Harry, can you come get Lo and I?” She asked once Harry picked up at the other end. It was Harry’s least favorite kind of call. The kind he knew Lauren had dragged her to a party that was too much. It made his heartbeat faster, worried beyond belief until he saw that sweet smile holding her friend’s hair back as she threw up in the bushes. “Can you help me get her into bed?” Of course he would. He would do anything she asked.
Harry noticed the way Lauren’s grip tightened around his neck as he held her and carefully placed her into bed. Out of the kindness of his heart, he ignored it. For Lauren’s sake, for his sake, and of course the sake of the pretty girl whose concern for her friend grew as she gathered items needed to cure a hangover. 
*
Lauren was in love with Harry. Had been for years. But it couldn’t even come close to her and her love for Harry. Not in any way, shape, or form. Lauren adored her friend, because how could she not? She was too sweet for words. But there was a part of her, a gnawing, growing part of her that wanted her friend out of the picture. She told herself all she needed was a chance, but it didn’t seem doable. They were inseparable. There was no way she could tear them apart. It was impossible.
Or was it?
*
“Harry?” Lauren asked. She was smiling at her phone again. The way she always did when Harry texted her. During the week, it was a little hard to see one another—even though Harry was commuting to the local university just a half hour drive away and they were still in town. So, Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays were meant for dates and kisses and being so obsessed with one another, it would probably make anyone want to throw up.
Especially if they were jealous.
“Yeah, he’s out early. Wanted to know if we needed anything for our study session.”
Lauren felt a crack in her plan. They were really too sweet. Both of them.
“Do you ever… worry about Harry?” Lauren asked. 
She frowned. “Yeah, like every day.”
“No,” Lauren felt a stab of hatred for herself as she pressed. Of course, her friend would say something sickeningly kind like that. Of course, she worried about Harry. “No like… him at university.”
“What do you mean?” She asked innocently. The innocence in her voice was sincere. Genuinely asking her friend what she meant. Worry coated her face. Was there something she missed? Should she have been worrying about Harry more?
“Uh… just… forget it,” Lauren shook her head. “It’s stupid.”
That was going to be the end of it. If it was, maybe Harry would have fared better. Maybe it wouldn’t have led to this horrible moment. Left wondering and aching and wishing.
But she was nothing if not the best and most fantastic friend of all.
“Lo, are you sure? You seem… nervous.”
So, she continued. Planted the tiny seed of doubt. “It’s just… Harry’s been with you his whole life and he’s made it well known he won’t be leaving. So, do you ever feel like you should… let him be free to experience more? I don’t know… I just… I think I would worry if it were me.”
That was all it took.
The self-doubt was so easy. It made so much sense coming from her mouth. Harry did deserve more. She thought that on a regular normal day.
Staying close to home wasn’t going to make Harry’s life any richer. He wasn’t staying in a dorm. He wasn’t going to be studying abroad or anything like that. A degree in psychology to help as much as he humanly could. Training to be a firefighter the moment he finished his degree. He would love his life and living here. 
But what if he deserved more?
*
Harry’s house was like her second home. She rarely knocked—only if she was unsure if anyone was home. If the car was in the driveway, she made her way in.
Except today. Because today, Anne’s porch didn’t feel like home. The steps that made her trip and fall on Halloween when Harry tended to her like he planned on being a doctor. It solidified   the picture that he would be a fireman, an amazing one at that. But he would have been great at anything he set his mind to. The flower garden where she and Harry found a bird’s nest after a bad storm. The study sessions and poems that she scribbled on the porch where Anne would bring them lemonade and cookies.
It was one of her favorite places on earth.
But it wasn’t today.
She knocked.
Harry pulled the door out of the way. “Hey baby,” he pecked her cheek, oblivious to everything she felt and how she sounded. He was in his own happy world. Nothing was wrong. He wasn’t told that she was less when Harry needed more. He didn’t notice she knocked. That she hadn’t toed over the threshold. “How was school and work? Are y’tired?”
“Harry,” she whispered.
“I was thinking we could order in and watch a movie.”
It’s not fair.
“Harry,” she repeated.
“I think pizza—oh we had pizza two days ago. Maybe Chinese?”
It’s. Not. Fair.
“Harry.”
Finally, he noticed she hadn’t moved much beyond the doorway while he was rushing about. He turned to her finally. Noting her crestfallen face, the way her eyes were bloodshot, and she refused to look him in the eye.
“Hey, kitten,” he frowned and moved toward her. “S’matter, love?” He asked. “Did y’have a bad day? See a sad video?”
It pained her to no end that he knew her so well that a sad video could have been the culprit for her sadness on a normal day. But this wasn’t a normal day. This was the day she was going to break her own heart.
“I uh…” she swiped at her eye.
“Kitten, baby,” he cooed and reached for her arm gently, but she pulled away. “Hey, what—”
“I think I’m gonna…” her throat hurt. Like the words were burning her esophagus like they weren’t supposed to come out. “I want to go away,” she whispered. That was at least in part true. She did want to go away. Far, far away so she wouldn’t feel the hurt like she was in that moment. “For school.”
There was a pang of frustration that went through him. Not because he was mad at her. No, he was going to miss her, that was it. But her success, her happiness, all of it was more important than a few hundred miles. Or even thousands. Harry sighed, wiped a hand over his face, and nodded. It would be hard. Long distance would be really hard. “Alright, yeah. Course, baby. Whatever’s best for y’education.”
She shook her head trying to talk herself out of saying it. Or maybe into saying it. It seemed so wrong. So awful. It wasn’t worth it. All this hurt. She hadn’t even started really. She could stop right then. But she looked at him. Looked at his kind, worried face. The way he looked at her when she had a stomachache or a headache. When she smacked her head on the corner of a table she was cleaning under or when she fell off her bike when she was young. “It’s… it’s really far away, Harry,” she reminded him. Maybe she wouldn’t have to say it. Wouldn’t have to do the hard part. He would just know, he would agree.
“Yeah… yeah, it is. But s’okay,” it sounded like he was trying to convince himself. Just a minor hiccup. “I’ll come t’you every weekend. And there will be holidays. M’sure your mum will want y’home and—”
His poor heart. He’s got no idea I’m about to ruin everything.
“Harry,” she swallowed. “It’s… it’s too far,” it wasn’t even a whisper.
Harry frowning was her least favorite thing. It made it all so much harder. “Too far for what, kitten?” He asked almost rhetorically.
Her inhale of breath was shaky. Like it was hurting her to breathe. Everything hurt. Every inch of her body. Like she had been hit by a car or had fallen from a tree. It wasn’t fair. Harry was oxygen. He always had been for as long as she had known him. Now it was hurting her to be in the same room as him. “For us,” she croaked.
It felt like the whole world had shifted. Flipped on its axis. He remembered hearing about it in their astronomy class. She was sitting right beside him. He wanted to ask her if she remembered because it wasn’t supposed to be like that. It was supposed to happen gradually, in hundreds of thousands of years. No one was supposed to notice. But Harry did. He noticed immediately.
He scoffed and looked at her like she was insane. Like it was a mean joke. She wasn’t mean so where had this come from? The tears were a nice touch. Realistic even. It felt terrible to look at her in such a way, but surely it was only the natural reaction when someone he loved just caused the magnetic field to flip the entire globe. “Baby, what are y’saying?” He asked. It didn’t really make sense and so his only option was to question her. She covered her mouth releasing a sob that he hadn’t ever heard come from her mouth. Not when her childhood dog died. Not when her mom got in a scary car accident and started losing her mind just enough to make her anxious and worried. Not when she got a terrible grade on her math test or hurt her ankle in soccer. There wasn’t a moment he could compare it to. There was no grief she had ever felt that elicited such a sound. Harry reached for her again, instinctively, his hand touching her upper arm. She flinched. Like it stung.
Like it hurt.
In hindsight, it was the last time he touched her, and she flinched away.
“Baby,” his throat felt tight. Nothing in his brain was connecting—the pattern wasn’t something he had encountered before. She didn’t flinch at his touch. The words didn’t make sense. Not from her mouth. What did any of that mean? “Kitten…”
“I’m sorry Harry. It’s too much. We’re too young and…” she took a heaving breath. One that shook her whole body. The only thing Harry could think about was holding her. It didn’t matter that his heart was splintering into pieces. She was in pain, and he wanted to cure it and he wanted to hold her to do it. “I’m sorry, Harry. I’m so sorry,” she left the doorway without another word. Not a single touch, nor kiss. When was the last time he kissed her? Oh, he was so lucky his class finished early, and it was the night before. A goodnight kiss when everything was happy and wonderful. He had an early day. So, he told her he loved her and went to bed. It seemed like a lifetime ago. Like the world had tipped and opened a blackhole to this terrible dimension.
“Harry?” Anne asked, coming from the kitchen. He was staring at the door. Where the love of his life had previously stood. Harry was only 19, but he was never surer of how she fit in his life. “Are you alright?”
“No, not at all,” he croaked, and the tears flooded his vision and down his face. There was nothing else to be said.
--
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