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foreverisntenough · 9 days ago

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‘Movie Night’

Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend. You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy?

Index:

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [ smut, slight mention of dv, loss of a parent, drinking - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!

Disclaimer: No one is crazy about him atm, me included, so this is strictly for my readers and my readers only. I don’t condone his behavior at all -Just let me finish out this fic please. Don’t come for me. I’m only a girl with a google doc whose spent hours upon hours and days on end on this fic

Chapter 9 - Waiting | ‘Movie Night'

word count - 11.8k

You could feel the party roaring on, its energy vibrant and chaotic in the distance as you slipped out of the bathroom with Trent, hearts still racing. The hallway was dimly lit, a contrast to the pulsing lights spilling in from the main room. You smoothed your hair and adjusted your skirt, trying to steady your breathing and regain composure, but Trent was having none of it. Walking just a step behind you, he slipped his hand under your skirt one last time, his fingers grazing your thigh before giving your ass a firm squeeze. The touch sent a shiver through you, your cheeks heating as you whipped your head around to glare at him.

"T!" you whispered, half-scolding, though your voice was laced with a breathless laugh. He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear as the noise from the party almost drowned out his words.

"Thank you for conceding. I was dying, baby." He smirked. You giggled, swatting at his hand to shoo him away.

"Get off," you whispered again, but the playfulness in your tone betrayed you. “You’re welcome though.” You giggled as you walked further down the hallway, closer to where the rest of the party unfolded.

"I'm keeping my eye on you, yeah?" he hummed, his voice low and teasing. He winked, his hand lingering just long enough to squeeze yours tenderly, the contrast between his touch and his earlier intensity making your heart flutter. With a small, knowing smirk, you drifted back into the crowd, feeling his gaze follow you as you melted into the masses. You didn't need to turn around to know he was watching-he always was. Separating in the chaos of the party, it felt like a secret tether still held you together, pulling you back even when you were apart. You spotted Layla across the room, leaning into an intense conversation. Her laughter echoed above the music, but the second she caught your eye, she excused herself and made a beeline toward you, excitement lighting up her face. She didn’t hesitate, grabbing both of your arms.

“Excuse me….Did you actually just fuck Trent Alexander-Arnold in the loo?” she whispered, her grin widening as she looked at you expectantly, a bit in disbelief. You couldn’t help but smirk, trying to stifle a laugh.

“Mmhm,” you hummed, a guilty glint in your eye. “Layla….It was…” You began to recount the affair but she cut you off.

“Jesus, this is wild,” she muttered, almost to herself, as if processing it out loud. “I can’t believe this. You’re—this is Trent. And you,” she emphasized, poking your arm, “you and Trent were in a bathroom and you’re sucking him off now? How did we get here?” The two of you dissolved into a fit of giggles, the energy between you bubbling over as you shared every hidden detail and guilty laugh. And somehow, between the laughter, you ended up spilling the parts you’d barely even admitted to yourself.

“It’s… I don’t know. There’s so many sides to it with him. There’s this, like, spontaneous, messy, public-side of things where I’m sending him nudes and he’s meeting me in the bathroom for sex. Like you watched it unfold. The tension is so thick.” You blushed, a little buzzed warmth spreading as you recalled the night’s earlier escapade and all the teasing that led to it. “And then, when it’s just us, alone… I don’t think I’ve ever felt so connected to someone. Like it feels so… I feel so… seen.” You told her. Layla raised an eyebrow, her smile softening as she nodded, seeing a depth in your expression that went far beyond the thrill of a secret.

“Wow… so you’re proper into him, not like the idea… it’s not the years of build up, but like him as a person, right now, you’re down for him,” she said, almost in awe that things had finally come into fruition. You nodded slowly, cautiously realizing it was true.

“It’s more than just the sex too…” you trailed off, but she finished the thought for you, nodding again.

“Way more.” She told you, confirming she understood. She tried not to pout at you. If you told your younger self this was happening she’d probably scream. You both fell into a comfortable silence, letting it all sink in. But then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw him—Jack, your brother, entering the room, his usual wide grin plastered on his face as he chatted easily with the girl, Megan, he was seeing. The moment you saw him, a pang of guilt swept through you, knocking the breath from your lungs. Jack had been so carefree tonight, so… oblivious. It almost made it worse. He had no idea, and the secrecy felt like a weight pressing down on you. Layla seemed to notice the shift in you immediately, slipping an arm around you in a comforting side hug.

“You know… he’d want to know,” she whispered, her tone gentle. You looked at her, brows furrowing with doubt.

“Would he really though? I mean, this is Jack we’re talking about... And me… and Trent.” You wryly smiled. She gave a small laugh.

“Okay, maybe not the details you just gave me,” she admitted, nudging you playfully. “But yeah, I think he’d want to know in general. Especially since you’re saying this isn’t just… bathroom hookups and sneaking around.” You bit your lip, eyes drifting back to where Jack was laughing without a care. The two of you never kept things from each other. And hiding something this big, this serious—it felt wrong. Layla, noticing your conflicted expression, gave your arm a gentle squeeze.

“It’s not like you’re keeping it from him to hurt him, same as you didn’t do that with me,” she said quietly, a touch of sympathy in her voice. “But… you’re really in deep, babe. And if things with Trent are what they seem to be… then Jack probably deserves to know. If only because he’s your brother.” You nodded slowly, her words hitting closer than you wanted to admit. It was true—you didn’t just want the thrill, the excitement of being with Trent. You wanted the real parts too, the ones that lasted beyond the whispers and the hiding. But if that was what you wanted, then hiding didn’t make sense anymore.

Leaving the party felt like slow, deliberate torture. Every step away from Trent was a struggle, a quiet war between what you wanted and what you knew you couldn’t have tonight. The air outside was cool, biting against your skin as you walked toward the car with Jack and Megan, but the warmth of Trent’s hand brushing against yours one last time still lingered like a ghost. Megan gave him a quick hug, her laugh ringing out as she pulled away, while Jack dapped him up with a playful comment about seeing him later. Then it was your turn. His eyes softened when they met yours, filled with a tenderness he couldn’t show in front of your brother. He pulled you into a slow, lingering hug, wrapping his arms tightly around you as if trying to silently convey everything he couldn’t say out loud. You buried your face into his chest for a brief second, inhaling his scent, before forcing yourself to pull back. Jack and Megan were already turning toward the car, their backs to you, but you felt exposed, like the hug alone had been too much. Trent leaned in, pressing a kiss to your cheek, and when you looked up at him, your eyes were glassy, emotions threatening to spill over. He tilted his head, his gaze steady but soft, and mouthed, ‘Go on.’ The words felt heavier than they should have. They weren’t a command—they were permission, an unspoken reassurance that he’d still be there, waiting, even if you had to walk away right now. Your throat tightened as you nodded, stepping back reluctantly and turning toward the car. Every step was agony. You could feel his eyes on you, and you knew if you looked back, you’d break and the secret would be out or worse… maybe he wouldn’t be there. The pull to run back to him, to grab his hand and leave together, was almost unbearable, but you kept moving. The distance between you grew, and with it, the ache in your chest deepened. Sliding into the car beside Jack and Megan, you stared out the window, biting the inside of your cheek to keep your emotions in check. The vibration of your phone broke the silence, and you didn’t need to look to know who it was.

'Call me when you get home. Pls xx.'

The text made your heart ache even more. You wanted nothing more than to be with him, to skip the pretending and sneaking around. But instead, you pressed your head against the cool glass, the world outside shifting into a blur.

You said goodnight to Megan and Jack, leaving them in the kitchen, their playful banter filling the space as they shared slices of late-night pizza. Their laughter echoed down the hallway, warm and light, but it only deepened the ache in your chest. It was a reminder of something you couldn’t have—not right now, not openly. In your en suite, you began the ritual of taking off your makeup, your reflection staring back at you with tired eyes and a growing sense of loneliness. The muffled sound of Megan and Jack’s laughter still carried through the walls, a sharp contrast to the silence of your own thoughts. You felt disconnected, like you were watching life happen around you while standing just outside of it. The ache in your chest swelled, and for a fleeting moment, you wondered if Trent had really meant it when he asked you to call. Was it just something he said to soften the blow of walking away? You tried to convince yourself it didn’t matter. But it did. You wanted him—his voice, his presence, his reassurance. Before you could second-guess yourself, you picked up your phone, scrolling to his name. Your thumb hovered for just a moment before you pressed Call. The line didn’t ring for long before he answered, skipping the formality of a greeting altogether.

“You in bed f’me, pretty girl?” His voice was low, velvety, and full of mischief, but beneath it, there was a warmth that made your chest tighten. The familiarity of it washed over you, melting away the doubt you’d felt just moments before. You couldn’t help but smile, even though he couldn’t see it.

“Maybe I am,” you teased softly, leaning against the bathroom counter. Subconsciously pushing your boobs together as if for him, as if he was there.

“Don’t play coy, baby,” he murmured, the sound of his voice alone enough to make you feel less alone. “Tell me. Are you in bed, waiting for me to call and say goodnight?” He asked you sweetly but there was an undercurrent of seduction. The idea of him in your bed had your imagination running wild with the things you wish you could do right now. You let out a small laugh, the tension of the night loosening ever so slightly.

“Not yet. I’m still getting ready.” You cooed softly.

“Hmm,” he hummed, the sound deep and indulgent. “Take your time, yeah? Then get comfy for me. I’m not hanging up.” His confidence wrapped around you like a blanket, making you feel safer than you had all evening. You leaned against the counter, letting his voice fill the quiet space, hoping this call would stretch long into the night. You kept him on the line, the sound of his voice soothing you as you moved through your nighttime routine. It was easy to let yourself get lost in his casual tone, the way he teased and spoke to you as if nothing about this situation was out of the ordinary. But that’s what gnawed at you—you hated how okay he seemed with it all. The sneaking, the hiding, the distance. It was second nature to him, and it made you feel like maybe you weren’t as different as you thought. Finally, you crawled into bed, pulling the blankets tight around you as though they could replace his warmth. The emptiness of the space beside you felt glaring, and you couldn’t shake the longing. You closed your eyes, willing yourself to be content with just the sound of his voice.

“Y’alright, baby?” Trent’s voice was softer now, his playful edge giving way to genuine concern. You hesitated, trying to swallow the lump in your throat.

“Yeah,” you lied, though your tone betrayed you.

“Don’t do that,” he murmured, his voice a quiet plea. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?” He asked a question he already knew the answer to. You let out a sigh, your emotions threatening to spill over.

“I just… I hate this,” you admitted, your voice cracking slightly. “I hate that you’re not here. I hate that we can’t just be normal. I hate that I feel like this while you seem… fine.” The line was silent for a moment, his breathing the only sound.

“You think I’m fine?” he finally asked, his voice tinged with disbelief. “Y/N, I’m trying to keep it together because if I don’t, I’ll go mad. You think I don’t hate this too? That I don’t wish I could be there with you right now?” You swallowed hard, your heart twisting at his words.

“Then why are you so okay with it?” You snapped a bit harsher than you meant to. Maybe it was the liquor or maybe you genuinely were annoyed.

“I’m not,” he said firmly. “I’m not okay with it at all. I just—” He paused, struggling to find the words. “I hate seeing you upset. I hate knowing you’re there alone. But what am I supposed to do? Show up at your place with Jack there? Ruin everything?” His voice softened, a raw vulnerability creeping in. “I miss you, baby. So much it’s driving me insane. But this is how it has to be.” He cooed as tears slipped down your cheeks as you clutched the phone tighter.

“I just want you here,” you whispered. You really weren’t sure if this was fueled by liquor or love. You felt like you could taste the tequila though. You could hear his sigh, feel the shared frustration hanging in the air between you.

“I know,” he whispered back, his voice thick with emotion. “Me too.” The silence stretched between you, heavy with longing and frustration. He tried to comfort you, whispering soft reassurances, but it did little to ease the ache of his absence. Nothing could. You closed your eyes, listening to the steady rhythm of his voice, pretending it was enough.

“I wish I was with you. You can’t imagine how hard this is for me. Maybe we could’ve just—” He began to talk but you interrupted him.

“But we can’t, we’ve said that… I know” you snapped again, cutting him off harshly though your tone softened immediately after as you added a confessional. “I’d give anything to be with you right now.” You whispered meekly.

“Well,” he murmured, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver through you, “I’m still here, baby. Maybe not how we want… but I’m not going anywhere.” He reassured you.

“Promise?” you whispered, clutching your phone a little tighter, feeling silly but needing to hear him actually say it.

“Promise,” he said gently, like it was the easiest promise he’d ever make. A warmth flooded through you at the thought, as though you’d somehow erased the space between you. Even as you said goodnight, you could still feel him with you, his voice lingering in your mind long after you’d both hung up.

Leaving the party separately had been a harsh reminder of what you were hiding, a chasm between the life you had with Trent and the life you wanted. On the outside, you tried to act like it was fine—just some casual, lighthearted fling—but inside, you knew better. You felt yourself slipping deeper into something real with him, you heard yourself admitting things to him over the phone you probably shouldn’t have. That you missed him, you wanted him, all of it and it terrified you as much as it thrilled you. But for Trent, maybe that weight felt different. He was in deep with you too, but he couldn’t shake that you were Jack’s little sister. It added a whole other layer, a silent complicating factor neither of you could ignore. So when you invited him over for a night in, hoping you’d have a rare moment of normalcy, you half-expected him to agree. Just for once, you wanted him to choose you without hesitation. Not have him in control. You wanted to take the reins for a change, feel like equals in this. But that same night, Noah invited the boys for a movie, it was as if all your unspoken fears were confirmed. Trent texted you back, saying he’d already agreed to go to Noah’s. He tried to explain it, to make it seem like he was doing it ‘for’ you but there was no reasoning that made it make sense.

'If I disapear too much the lads will start asking questions, yk?' 'Just trying to keep things lowkey' 'Can't risk you, baby' 'You understand, yeah?'

As much as you tried to rationalize it—remind yourself that he was being practical, maybe even protective—it still stung. You felt like you’d been put back in a box, hidden away for the sake of convenience. The ache of not being chosen sat heavy in your chest, wrapping around your heart as the minutes passed, and you couldn’t ignore the sting of it. You’d never asked for much: just for him to show up, to be with you for one night in a way that didn’t involve excuses or sneaking around. It was sneaking around but at least you were the one orchestrating it. You wanted him to want you enough to choose you over everyone else. Sitting alone in your room, you considered texting him back. Your fingers hovered over the screen, wondering if you should tell him how you felt—that it wasn’t just about wanting his company, but needing him to prioritize you, even if just for a night. But you didn’t. You were too afraid of saying too much, of sounding needy, or worse—of pushing him away. You’d already felt like you’d let him know too much.

Instead, you set your phone aside, biting back the words that threatened to spill out. The silence felt like it was swallowing you whole, and your room suddenly felt unbearably empty. You laid back against your pillow, staring up at the ceiling, trying to let the quiet lull you into some kind of acceptance. You told yourself he was just being practical, that he was trying to be careful, but it didn’t stop the feeling of being second. You wanted to be the person he chose without having to justify it, without having to feel like an afterthought or a secret tucked away out of convenience.

Hours passed, and the room grew colder, but your thoughts wouldn’t relent. You tried to remember the good moments, the way he held you close when you woke up together, the way he whispered in your ear with that effortless charm. You tried to replay those memories in your head, hoping they’d soften the ache, but all they did was remind you of what was missing right now. It wasn’t just the thrill of sneaking around or the excitement of a late-night rendezvous. It was him—all of him. You wanted his laughter, his warmth, his undivided attention, and his willingness to show up for you without needing a reason or an excuse. It hurt to realize that as much as you both felt something real, this still felt fragile. It was so precious and yet so precarious, a relationship built on stolen moments and hushed promises, kept alive by the hope that maybe one day it would be more. You wondered how much longer you could go on like this, hiding, hoping, feeling torn between the undeniable attraction and the fear that you’d always come second. A pang of hurt riffled through your chest wondering if you’d be strong enough to even get out of this. You wanted to be with him, and you wanted him to feel the same way without holding back. But tonight, lying there alone, you couldn’t ignore the whispering doubts that crept into your mind. Maybe this was all it would ever be—a secret romance, hidden away, safe from the prying eyes but not from the ache of feeling like you were only a part of his life when it was convenient. And as much as you wanted to deny it, a part of you wondered how long you could keep going like this, waiting for the day he’d choose you openly, without hesitation, without excuses.

The silence had grown too heavy, and the second you texted Layla, she was on her way over, sensing the need for support without question. Minutes later, she arrived, all energy and anticipation, ready for a debrief. You couldn’t help but spill everything—how Trent had chosen a night with the boys over time with you, his excuses about ‘keeping things low-key,’ and how much it had stung to feel like you were being hidden, set aside when convenient. Layla’s temper flared but she bit her tongue and let you continue on. But as you wrapped up, Layla’s eyes glimmered with a knowing smirk and a plan.

“If he wants to pie you off for the lads… remind him of all the ways you aren’t one of them, why you’re the better option. His only option.” She shifted on the bed, crossing her arms as she raised an eyebrow.

“Lays…” You laughed, but there was caution in your tone as you murmured her name, sensing where she was going.

“Call him right now.” She leaned in, her voice firm and commanding. “He likes games so much—let’s play one,” she added with a mischievous glint, and you couldn’t help the grin that broke out. You adjusted yourself on the bed, propping up your phone as she settled in beside you, giving you a conspiratorial nod. Your fingers hovered over Trent’s name, your nerves buzzing with a mix of excitement and anticipation. You hit the call button, and after a few rings, he picked up. You lounged back against the pillows, your phone resting on speaker between you and Layla. She was biting her lip to suppress her giggles, her eyes sparkling with mischief as you waited for Trent to answer. When Trent saw your name flash on your phone, his heart skipped a bit. He wanted to answer but he couldn’t, Jack was on the other end of the couch. He was swift darting out the room. When he finally did pick up, now safely tucked in the lonely confines of Noah’s kitchen, his voice was soft, quiet, laced with distraction.

"Y’alright, baby," he greeted, sounding casual, completely unaware of what was about to hit him.

“Hi," you replied, your voice a sultry purr. You knew exactly what you were doing. "I didn’t expect you to pick up with the movie and all…What are you up to?" you asked.

"Nah, you know I’d always pick up your call," he answered, the faint hum of voices and a movie’s score blaring in another room audible in the background.

"Hmm," you hummed, dragging the sound out just enough to catch his attention. You glanced at Layla, who was already covering her mouth to muffle her laughter. "I've just been lying here... feeling so bored today." Trent didn't pick up on it immediately, his voice still distracted.

"Yeah? What've you been doing, pretty girl?" He asked aimlessly, just happy to hear you talk. Your lips curved into a devilish smile, and you decided to drop the bomb.

"Nothing much, haven’t left my bed really" you murmured, keeping your tone soft, teasing. "Just... thinking about you. All day. It's been driving me crazy." You cooed teasingly. There was a pause, a sharp inhale on the other end.

"What?" His tone shifted instantly, the casual air replaced by something much more focused.

"I've been so horny, baby," you whispered, your voice low, almost a whine. "And now I'm all alone, just... lying here. Thinking about you." You whimpered. “What we’d be doing.” You doubled down and Layla made a face shocked at how easily this all flowed out of your mouth. Trent went completely silent for a moment. You could picture him, frozen in place, probably running a hand over his jaw as he tried to process your words. When he finally spoke, his voice was rough, strained.

"You can't be saying stuff like this to me right now." He told you as his brain continued to be scrambled.

"You're not here so I wanted to call. What else am I supposed to do? Just sit here... you know what they say about idle hands," you teased, dragging your words out with a playful lilt. Layla clapped a hand over her mouth, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter. You glanced at her, grinning, and decided to push a little further. "I even thought about calling you earlier, but I didn't want to bother you while you were with the boys. I mean...” You let out a soft, breathy sigh. "You clearly had other priorities but I just… wanted to be reminded of your voice in my ear." You moaned feigning sexual indignation. That did it.

"Babyyyy," Trent groaned, his tone a mix of frustration and desire. "Stop playing with me." He ran his hand over his hair trying to not get too excited by your words, his joggers were beginning to tent. He was still at Noah’s house but he was about ready to get in his car right now.

"Who says I'm playing?" you countered, biting your lip to keep from laughing. "I'm just... lonely. I mean, I'm wearing that little top you like. Or... I was." You told him a blatant lie. Layla’s eyes widened, shaking her head, looking at you fully covered up in a jumper. You heard him curse softly under his breath, the faintest sound of a chair scraping as he moved.

"Why are you doing this to me?" he muttered, his voice lower now, raspier.

"I’m not doing anything. You're just not here," you shot back, your tone both teasing and genuine. "And I wanted you to know that I really… really… wish you were." You taunted him. Trent groaned again, louder this time. You could hear the faint shuffle of movement on his end.

"Where are you?" he asked suddenly, his voice tense.

"I told you, I’m in bed," you replied, leaning back and letting your voice drop dripping with faux innocence. "All by myself. Thinking about you." You confirmed the lie once over as Layla scoffed.

"Jesus Christ," Trent muttered. You could picture him now, pacing the kitchen, probably running a hand over his hair in frustration. And you were correct. He was doing just that trying to figure out what to do right now. Layla gave you a sly grin.

"Well," you said, dragging out the word, "then I guess I'll just have to keep myself company. Maybe I’ll send you a picture of what I’m up to while you’re at Noah’s?" You suggested.

"Baby" he warned, his voice sharp. But there was a tremor in it, a crack that told you exactly how much he wanted you to follow through. He couldn’t handle this, his head was on mars.

"Oh, but I thought you liked that, when I sent you photos, didn’t you?" you mocked him. If he wanted movie night with the boys so badly, you were going to make it hell. Send him the nastiest picture you had yet while he had to sit there on his hands. It felt good to have the power shifting. "You don’t want to see me?" You asked feigning innocence.

“Pretty girl, I am dying here…. Please. Don’t do this to me.” He begged you. He wanted a photo of you more than anything in the world. But the idea of having just to sit on it. Doing nothing with it was excruciating. What was he meant to do here? He was on the phone in the middle of the film, if he left now… what would his excuse be but… you were home alone, he wanted to be there.

"Hmm, maybe. You always ask me to be a good girl for you… Why couldn’t you be good for me once. Just for tonight." You cooed teasingly. That’s all you wanted was tonight- wasn’t too much but now he’d pay.

"I'm always good for you," he shot back without hesitation, the heat in his voice making Layla raise her eyebrows at you in mock disbelief.

"Are you?" you teased, shifting in bed and letting your voice drop to a softer, more tempting tone. "Because if you were, you wouldn't have left me all alone tonight for the boys." Trent groaned again. He really regretted his decision. He thought he was doing this to benefit your relationship. And now he realized that he didn’t give a shit about what the boys thought, he wanted to be there with you.

“Nah, baby fuck them. I’ll come over right now. Swear. I’m sorry, baby. I want to come be with you. ” His voice had dropped, the suggestion loaded, as if he’d already started picturing it. Layla shot you a look, one that dared you to turn the tables even further. You bit your lip, taking the plunge.

"Well, it’s too late now. You're with them, and I'm here alone." You dragged out the last word, knowing exactly what it would do to him. Your lips curled into a satisfied smirk.

“Don’t.” He threatened you. He pretended to hit his head against the cupboard in front of him. He was regretting every decision up until this point. He felt so stupid but he wasn’t keen on letting you play with him like this.

"Don't what?" you asked innocently, twirling a strand of your hair between your fingers. "Don't tell you that l've been lying here, thinking about you? That l've been imaging all the ways your hands would be on me, all the ways I could’ve been good for you?" You taunted him. Layla flopped on the bed squeezing your leg shocked that you went this far.

"Baby, you're killing me," Trent muttered, his frustration palpable. Layla shot you a grin and mouthed, ‘keep going.’

"I think I'll take a long, hot shower," you mused aloud, your tone thoughtful but teasing. "Let the water run over me, help me relax after such a long, lonely night." Trent cursed softly under his breath, and you could hear the faint sound of him shifting.

"I'm coming over, baby. Enough," he declared suddenly, his tone firm, decisive.

"No, it's okay," you said quickly, trying to sound casual even as your heart raced. Layla gestured wildly, as if to say ’this is what we wanted.’ She wanted you to break him down to a begging point and you’d gotten there, actually coming over though and giving him best of both worlds? Not going to happen. “Seriously, it's fine," you continued, trying to keep the upper hand. "I'll just shower, maybe do some online shopping. Pick out something... special for maybe some upcoming plans..." Trent let out a low, guttural groan that made your stomach flip. He shook his head to gain some composure. He needed to get a grip but all the visuals you were giving we’re sending him into orbit. He took a deep breath before his next words. His controlled demeanor returning.

"Yeah? How about you get something for when I come over next, hmm?” Trent's voice dropped a little, thick with anticipation. “Be a good girl, I’ll send you my card, just something special only for me?" He murmured, his tone laced with a possessive edge that sent a thrill through you. Layla looked at you admittedly having a hard time turning down the offer. Maybe you could do both. You bit your lip, pretending to consider his suggestion.

"Maybe," you teased, letting the word hang in the air. "But only if you're lucky."

"I'll make sure I'm lucky," he shot back, his voice thick with determination. "You just wait for me, baby. Then, I'm gonna make you feel like the luckiest girl in the world. Promise." He told you. “Just f’me baby.” He pleaded.

"Brooo, embarrassing!" Noah teased, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, his grin wide and taunting. Trent froze, his face heating as Noah burst into laughter.

"Fuck off," Trent snapped, his voice sharper than intended as he quickly turned his back to Noah, gripping his phone tighter. He was met with silence from your end, and for a second, his heart sank. He couldn't let Noah know it was you or worse his intrusion derail this moment.

"You're gonna be in my bed tonight, yeah?" Trent asked again, his voice quieter now, more serious, his heart pounding as he waited for your answer. On your end, you paused, savoring the power shift. You finally, for once had the upper hand. He was trying to get it back telling you matter of fact you’d sleep with him tonight but Layla gestured wildly, mouthing say no, keep him hooked, while you bit back a smirk.

"Hmm... I don't know," you mused, dragging the words out just enough to make him squirm. “I'm so tired." You told him. Trent was panicking. He couldn’t focus on the two simultaneous happenings.

"Nah, nah, nah, don't do me like that, bab– ," Trent blurted, his voice softening, but then he caught Noah's smirk out of the corner of his eye. He clenched his jaw, stopping himself after the first syllable of ‘baby,’ trying to reel it back in. Noah raised an eyebrow, looking far too entertained by the scene.

"Who is that? Who are we calling baby?" he pressed, stepping closer with mock curiosity. "Got you out here begging, bro." Trent shot him a glare but didn't take the phone away from his ear.

"Nah." he just dismissed quickly, his tone defensive. “Girl I’m seeing.” He clarified waving Noah off, hoping that was sufficient to get him to leave.

"No, seriously, who’s this? Who's got you acting like this," Noah continued, his grin growing, mocking Trent.

"Seriously, bro, fuck off," Trent repeated, trying to sound firm but feeling increasingly flustered. On your end, Layla was barely holding in her laughter, watching and listening to this unfold like a soap opera.

"Looks like someone's been caught out down bad," she whispered, making you giggle softly.

"Stop it," you hissed at her, but your voice was playful, your smile betraying you.

"Baby," Trent said again, ignoring Noah entirely now as he refocused on you. His voice was a mix of pleading and frustration. "Don't make me wait. Please." Layla's eyes widened, interested in his response. You leaned back against your pillows, feeling victorious.

"You seem to have company. You can text me and I'll think about it.” You teased, your tone light but noncommittal.

"Don't think too long," Trent shot back quickly, a hint of desperation slipping through his controlled exterior.

"Bro, she's got you wrapped so tight. I'm actually impressed." Noah, now sitting on a stool at the kitchen island for the show, bursting into laughter again. Trent groaned, running a hand over his face as he tried to ignore Noah.

"Baby," he muttered into the phone before you hung up abruptly, not giving him a chance to get another word in.

“Oh boy… You've got him wrapped around your finger, huh, even his boys are calling him on it.," Layla said, grinning, a mutual flare of victory behind her eyes. Noah smirked, watching as Trent tossed his phone onto the counter and leaned against it, visibly irritated and flustered.

"So, who is she?" Noah prodded once over.

"Nah, mate…None of your business," Trent replied flatly, though his cheeks betrayed him, flushing with heat.

"Oh, it's definitely my business now," Noah said, his grin widening. "I've gotta meet the girl who's got TAA tripping over himself like this. Jesus mate… Look at you.” He looked at Trent, eyes wide, almost falling into shock at Trent’s vulnerability.

"Not happening," Trent muttered, already regretting how much he'd let slip. Meanwhile, back at your place, Layla threw herself onto you, giggling.

"Oh my God, that was perfect! Did you hear him?" She asked like a proud mum. You couldn't help but smile, your phone still warm in your hand.

"Yeah," you said softly, the sound of Trent's voice still echoing in your ears. "I did."

“Come on… calling her baby? begging her to get in your bed? How leng is she?” Noah asked Trent, laughing. Trent laughed with him but more out of nerves.

“Yeah, she’s…” Trent paused momentarily really thinking about how to answer this. It was awkward. Noah knew exactly what you looked liked. They’d in fact had full conversations about Jack’s little sister… but that’s not who he was just on the phone with...and yet unfortunately, it was “She’s my dream girl, mate.” Trent said it aloud, unable to stop the words falling out. The admission a vocal realization of how deep he was in. Noah’s laughter slowed, his teasing grin softening into something closer to curiosity.

“Dream girl?” he echoed, eyebrows raised. “You’re proper in it, aren’t you?” Trent let out a nervous laugh, running his hands over his face as if to hide. Saying it out loud felt reckless, but he couldn’t take it back now.

“Uh yeah, man, I guess,” Trent muttered, shaking his head as if trying to shake off the weight of his feelings. “She’s… different. I’ve never felt like this about anyone.” Noah leaned back, crossing his arms, his grin lingering.

“So, what’s the deal then? Why’re you sneaking around like this? If she’s that great, just bring her around.” Trent hesitated, glancing down at his phone.

“It’s not that simple.” Trent told him ambiguously. Noah tilted his head, his curiosity sharpening.

“Not that simple? What, is she married or something?” He let out a laugh, clearly joking, but Trent’s silence made him pause. “Oi, you’re serious? What’s going on here?” He asked. Trent sighed, shaking his head.

“She’s not married, man. It’s just… complicated. She’s not someone I can just bring around.” Noah studied him for a moment, his grin softening into something more thoughtful.

“You’re not usually this cagey about girls, bro. What makes her so special?” Trent’s lips curved into a small, involuntary smile as he thought of you.

“She’s… mate…” He groaned. “She's everything. But like… she knows exactly how to get under my skin, and I can’t even be mad at her for it. She’s just… s different.” He admitted. Noah’s eyebrows shot up once more.

“Wow. Fuck. Outta nowhere. Sounds like she’s got you good. So, what’s the holdup? The boys’ll rinse you a bit, sure, but they’ll get over it.” Trent hesitated, glancing away. Noah was slightly confused considering Trent hadn’t been seeing anyone as far as he knew. Yet, suddenly the apparent love of his life existed and he was keeping mum.

“It’s not the boys. It’s…” He trailed off, catching himself before he said too much. “It’s just… complicated,” he repeated. Noah would be lying if he said you didn’t pop into his head, Trent never was this reserved about girls except about you. He’d clam up in conversations just like this but he immediately dismissed the idea. No way. He raised an eyebrow one again, clearly unconvinced but deciding not to push further.

“Alright, man. Keep your secrets. But if she’s really your dream girl, maybe stop overthinking it. Sounds like she’d be worth it.” He cooed. Trent nodded, grateful that Noah didn’t press further.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “She is.” As Noah walked out of the room, shaking his head with a chuckle, Trent stayed behind, his thoughts spinning. He hated how close he’d come to slipping up. The truth about you was something he wasn’t ready to share—not with Noah, not with anyone. He couldn’t. Pulling out his phone, he opened your message thread, his fingers hovering over the keyboard before typing:

'You drove me nuts calling me like that'

'I’m sorry I’m not with you tonight. Let’s change that though'

'I miss you, baby. Please'

'Come over tonight.’

'Pretty girl. WYA '

Hitting send, he sighed, wishing he could call you without all the secrecy. Wishing you were there with him now. You pouted at the messages. As confident as he was with you, as much pull as he had with you, he would go so soft. You frowned looking at Layla showing her the messages. She gave you a sympathetic smile knowing she was going to have to be the backbone here. You didn’t go to Trent’s that night, no matter how many times he asked. Each message pulled at your resolve, every word he sent tempting you to cave. But Layla wouldn’t let you. She sat cross-legged at the foot of your bed, her phone in hand, giving you an almost maternal look whenever you glanced her way.

“Tell him to enjoy movie night with the boys,” she instructed firmly, like she was holding you accountable. “And then put your phone down. He can wait. Let him miss you.” She told you. You sighed, pulling your knees to your chest as you stared at the screen. Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard, trying to find the right words, ones that didn’t feel like a lie or mean. But all you wanted was to give in. To text him back, I’m on my way, and go to him. To be held. To forget all the chaos and just feel normal again.

Instead, you typed:

‘Enjoy movie night with the boys. I’ll see you soon. xx’

As soon as you hit send, you regretted it. The moment felt cold, detached—nothing like what you were feeling inside. And then came the ache, that deep, gnawing ache in your chest that had settled there the first time you realized being with Trent wasn’t going to be easy.

“Good,” Layla said, leaning back on her elbows like she’d won a small battle for you. “Now, let’s watch something. Distract yourself. Get that boy off your mind for a minute” But you couldn’t. Not really. The night stretched on endlessly, punctuated by the occasional buzz of your phone.

'I wish you were here' 'Can we stop this already?' 'Please come over' 'Baby, I’ll make it up to you' 'Please'

Each text was a lifeline, pulling you closer to giving in. You stared at them for so long the screen dimmed, and Layla had to snatch the phone from your hands.

“You’re torturing yourself. You told him no, and that’s it.” You shot her a look, but you knew she was right. This was the reality you were living now—pushing and pulling, holding back, trying to find some balance in the chaos. It was exhausting. When you finally climbed into bed that night, the ache in your chest still hadn’t faded. You stared at the ceiling in the dark, wondering if Trent was doing the same. The next morning, you woke up feeling groggy, as though you’d hardly slept at all. The weight of the night before hadn’t lifted. You reached for your phone out of habit, not expecting anything. It buzzed just as your fingers grazed the screen, and you nearly dropped it as Trent’s name lit up.

'Wish I got to see you last night.'

'Was going to swing by this morning but didn’t want to press' 'Boarding my flight now. xx'

You sat up, your stomach sinking as realization hit: you’d completely forgotten he had an away game. And now, you weren’t going to see him for days. The message was short, but you could feel the disappointment behind it. He had wanted to see you. Needed it, maybe. And now he was leaving without that reassurance, without that connection that only you could give him. What if he found comfort somewhere else now? What if all these games pushed him into someone else? Your heart clenched as you stared at the words, your thumbs hovering over the keyboard. What could you even say? The whole relationship was starting to feel like a tangled web—secrets, games, hurt feelings. It wasn’t what you wanted. You missed the simplicity of what it had been before. The ease, the honesty, the way you could just be together without second-guessing everything. You typed a response and deleted it twice, agonizing over every word. Eventually, you sent something simple, though it felt inadequate:

'I wish I’d seen you. Safe flight. xx'

As soon as it delivered, your stomach twisted. It wasn’t enough. It didn’t capture how badly you wanted to see him, how much you missed him already. But what else could you say? The distance—both physical and emotional—was becoming unbearable, and you didn’t know how to fix it. You lay back down, holding your phone to your chest. The ache was back, worse than before. You closed your eyes, wishing things could be different. Wishing you could be on that plane with him, just to be close to him, leaving the rest of the world behind.

Leverkusen two, Liverpool nil,… It’d been two days since you dangled yourself in front of Trent like a carrot only to snatch it all away. The problem was… though it felt good in the moment, the aftermath was proving to be worse than you could’ve ever anticipated. You hated that the way you’d left things was in a state of humor, a tease, pushing him away all for a game. When you found yourself in the living room of your house with Trent sat across the room after he’d returned the game you felt sick. His posture hunched and tense, every bit of him radiating frustration and disappointment. All the boys kept making jokes, each one hitting harder than they likely intended. His clenched fists and barely-contained sighs told you just how deep their words were cutting. They didn’t see the way his face fell, the flicker of pain that crossed his eyes with each jab. They didn’t see the way he kept glancing toward you, as though willing you to step in, to pull him out of this moment. You knew he wanted you to see him—to reach him. You wanted to be that person for him, more than anything. You were holding yourself back by sheer force of will, gripping the edges of the sofa with knuckles gone white, willing yourself not to move. Your mind was racing with everything you wanted to say to him, everything you’d have said if you’d just been alone. If no one else was there, you’d already be beside him, leaning into his shoulder, whispering words of encouragement and understanding. You’d have reminded him how talented he was, how one match didn’t define him, how you believed in him more than he could ever know. And maybe you’d even have let your guard down enough to hold him in your arms, the way he’d crave but never ask for. But here you sat, frozen, with your brother on the other side of the room and Jack and Trent’s friends filling the space, each of them blissfully unaware of the silent battle raging between you two. They could never understand the weight of restraint you were feeling. They laughed off his silence as sulking, making exaggerated comments about how he’d ‘bounced back by now’ or joking that he should ‘man up,’ ‘it’s one loss.’ It wasn’t the loss though. They had no idea what was really on the line, how much he was feeling, and how much you were holding back. Every few moments, Trent’s gaze would dart to you, quick and fleeting, with a look that made your stomach turn. It was the kind of look that was desperate, searching, like he was asking if you really cared about him, if you’d be willing to break the unspoken rules to be there for him in this moment. And you wanted to—God, you wanted to reach out and offer him some sliver of comfort. A part of him felt like this was a test, an opportunity. He was beginning to question if this was all a silly game to you. Were you just getting a thrill out of teasing him, making him act like a fool, beg for you, risk things for you… all of these things making him radically weaker. He didn’t want to be weak the way you were making him especially if you didn’t care in these moments. In these moments when he craved you most.

Finally, he exhaled, a quiet, resigned sigh that felt like a blade slicing through the room. His shoulders sagged as though he’d decided it wasn’t worth hoping anymore, that he’d been foolish to expect more. You felt the shame tighten in your throat, guilt twisting like a knot in your stomach as you watched him swallow his frustration and put on a blank expression, tuning out the laughter and teasing around him. Without thinking, you offered him a small, apologetic smile, a silent reassurance meant only for him. It felt like such a feeble gesture, yet it was all you could give. And as you watched his face fall in response, you realized just how painful that distance was for him, how much he was holding onto every small hint of care you could offer. But it wasn’t enough. Not for him, and not for you. The weight of all the things left unsaid, all the unspoken feelings piling between you, felt unbearable. And in that moment, you knew that this wasn’t just about a bad game or hurt pride. This was about you and Trent, and the boundaries you’d set that had slowly turned from necessary to suffocating. You wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to hide this with you, that you wanted to be there for him no matter who was around, that he didn’t have to pretend everything was fine. But instead, you sat there, lips pressed together, feeling the gulf between you grow wider, the silence stretching and suffocating as you both stayed exactly where you were. You were so scared of Jack noticing the tension but Trent wasn’t even thinking about Jack anymore. He was thinking how when he used to come home after away games, a loss especially… he’d find solace in you. Whether it be a conversation, a cuddle, even a tease and now it had all been yanked away for what felt like in exchange for sex. Yes, the best sex of his life but nevertheless he missed you. His Y/N. You’d bring him comfort that no amount of women he’d fuck out of frustration post match could bring. Little did you know for years you’d comforted him more after losses than anyone else.

Trent moved purposefully, his posture stiff and unyielding as he walked away from the group. He ignored the teasing laughs, barely acknowledging his friends’ calls for drinks as he made his way to the kitchen, his strides wide and determined, putting distance between himself and everyone else—especially you. His usual confident demeanor was gone, replaced by a heaviness that seemed to weigh down his every step. You offered to help. Your feet padding after him. You followed him, trailing a few steps behind, your heart hammering as you searched for the right words, the perfect gesture to make up for the comfort you’d denied him earlier. But as you reached the kitchen, you found yourself hesitating, feeling suddenly unsure. The kitchen lights cast a faint glow over him, and you caught the slight sag in his shoulders, the way his hands gripped the edge of the countertop, knuckles white with tension. He was trying to hold it together, to keep that wall up, even as everything inside him was breaking down. And for the first time, you saw that hurt so clearly it felt like a knife to the heart. Trent wasn’t just upset about the game, or the loss, or the teasing—he was hurting because you weren’t there. He felt isolated, the pain of the distance between you two evident in his face, like every unspoken word and touch denied had finally hit him all at once. When he turned and met your gaze, it was like every bit of his usual bravado melted away. His eyes were shadowed, raw with emotions he’d held back for so long, and suddenly he looked as vulnerable as you’d ever seen him. And there it was—strong, unwavering Trent, laid bare in front of you, and it wasn’t anger or frustration you saw, but hurt. He was hurt that he couldn’t lean on you, that the boundaries you’d put up for protection had left him feeling like he had no one at all. For years, you had been there for him, in your own subtle ways, always the one who could bring him back after a loss, the one who understood the weight he carried. Now, those small gestures were gone, replaced by a new silence, a void where there had once been comfort. And as he looked at you, you could feel the distance between you two more than ever, the painful shift from confidants to something hidden, fragile, undefined.

“Trent,” you whispered, the word barely audible, your heart breaking as you watched his gaze fall, unable to meet yours. “I’m… I’m sorry.” For a moment, he didn’t respond, only letting out a long breath, his shoulders sagging further. He finally looked at you, eyes searching, filled with something that was equal parts need and resignation. Your reception was cold when you saw him earlier though . A far cry from what used to happen. You were overdoing the nonchalance “I don’t know how to be there for you with Jack and them around.” You whispered cautiously looking back over your shoulder. Trent shook his head annoyed by the fear in your volume and posture.

“I always take care of you. Always. And just once I’m asking you to be there for me.” He spoke to you harshly. His words felt like a yell in comparison to your whisper, though they stayed in the confines of the room. “Please” he muttered out meekly, almost as if he was begging for you and couldn’t stop himself from being so weak for you. His voice tinged with a vulnerability that tore at you. He hated this. Every bit of him ached for you but he was embarrassed by it. Your heart ached, the weight of his words settling over you like a fog, and in that moment, you understood. He didn’t want your apology; he just wanted you. Not in secret, not hidden, but fully and openly. And as the silence hung between you, you felt the depth of his loneliness—how he was standing here, hurting, because he felt he had to keep all of this to himself. It felt like you were choosing everyone else over him. You felt the tension begin to rise.

“Trent….” You cooed gently, stepping forward. The kitchen island separating you two, worlds apart. He winced at your tenderness before you spoke again. His reaction to your gentleness the unsaid and said words of his, started to spark. Your own emotions about your situation getting the better of you “We’re nothing… How do you want me to act?” You explained trying to make it better. And there it was… nothing. All this fuss for nothing. Your words cut deep. He let his eyes flutter closed. He felt his blood run cold. He felt like he wanted to be sick. This was awful. How did this happen? His place of comfort, you, suddenly turned upside down and defined by you as nothing. Your words hung in the air, slicing through the silence with a weight you hadn’t anticipated. Trent’s expression hardened, his mouth set in a tight line, the softness you’d seen just moments ago completely gone. He looked down, shaking his head in disbelief, almost as if he were absorbing the impact of what you’d just said. You caught yourself and tried to retract. “T… I don’t mean.” You stuttered before he cut you off.

“Nah, it's cool. Noted. And apparently I’m the one pushing this relationship behind closed doors?” He taunted you. “You just told me I’m nothing to you.” He snapped. You felt like you were going to fall through the floors. His temper flared. Trent had returned. The soft lover boy you made him was gone and he wasn’t about to let you hurt him. “Nothing?” he repeated, almost unsure of the word's definition anymore. “That’s what this is to you?” The words came out with a raw, hurt edge. You could feel yourself faltering, his reaction unraveling the certainty you’d tried to build. There was a fragile tension between you two, a line you both knew you couldn’t keep walking forever, and now it was fraying with every passing second. Your stomach twisted painfully as his eyes flashed with anger, the softness you were so used to seeing in him now buried under layers of hurt. He took a sharp breath, his hands balled into fists as he steadied himself, like he was forcing every word through gritted teeth. “Nothing, yeah?” he repeated, his voice low and harsh, a sharp contrast to the tenderness he usually reserved just for you.

“I just…” you faltered, reaching out toward him, trying to find the words to make it right, but he stepped back, a bitter scoff escaping his lips. “Fucking at parties in the toilet isn’t any sort of commitment, the games… that’s not real. And that’s what it is… to you,” you muffled, recalling every moment you felt hidden away by Trent hammering home how small this must’ve felt to him, but right now, you were learning that wasn’t the case in his mind.

“You think I’ve been doing all this for nothing?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, but the pain was clear. He seemed to be searching your face, looking for any sign that this hadn’t all been in vain, that he hadn’t been holding on for something that didn’t exist outside of stolen moments. “I’ve tried, over and over, to make you feel like this was real to me,” he murmured, his tone laced with frustration and disappointment. “But every time, it’s like… I’m not enough to make you believe it.”

“Trent, it’s not that simple,” you whispered, your voice cracking under the weight of it all. “I just said, I don’t know how to… be there for you when Jack is around, when everyone’s watching us. It’s just…” you trailed off, hating how small and helpless you sounded, knowing it only confirmed his worst fears.

“Nah, I get it.” His voice was laced with frustration, the pain visible in every gesture, every tightly clenched muscle. “So who’s the one hiding, really?” He was being mildly petty but it was steaming from real hurt. You felt a sting as his words hit you. He was right—he was right in a way that made you feel raw and exposed. You had let your fear take over, let it draw lines around a relationship you were too scared to fully step into. The gravity of what he was saying settled over you, pressing down on you with a weight you hadn’t anticipated. He exhaled, pressing his hands into the countertop, looking down as if trying to collect himself. “I know it’s not simple,” he said, a bitter edge to his voice. “But I just… I thought you felt something. I thought we both wanted this.” You could feel yourself trembling, caught between your fear of losing him and the reality of what being with him meant. It wasn’t that you didn’t feel it—if anything, you felt it so deeply it scared you. But facing that truth meant giving up the safety of your old life, and it was that thought that made you hesitate, that kept you on the edge, unable to fully commit. He watched you hesitate. The pain rifled through his heart. He looked at you and sighed. “Baby…” He pleaded. “Do you have any idea what it’s like, seeing you every day and not being able to act like you’re mine?” Trent’s voice was softer now, almost a plea. “It’s… it’s hell. And I’m trying to be patient, but…” he stopped, his gaze locking with yours, his eyes holding a mix of hope and despair. “But I don’t know how much longer I can do this if I’m the only one who’s all in.” The weight of his words settled over you, making your chest tighten with a longing that threatened to pull you apart. You wanted to reach out, to reassure him, to tell him you did feel it, that he wasn’t alone. But the fear, the reality of what this all meant, held you back, leaving you paralyzed. It was confusing because it was so obvious there was a miscommunication but you couldn’t wrap your head around the idea that he genuinely believed he was the one all in. He wasn’t convinced you weren’t as in as he was. In that moment, standing on opposite sides of the kitchen, you could feel the distance between you both stretching further. Trent turned away slightly, letting out a shaky breath, and when he looked back at you, it was with a resignation that made your heart sink. He was tired of fighting for something that felt so uncertain, tired of giving his all only to feel like he was coming up short. He was feeling out of control.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that,” you whispered, desperate to explain, but Trent only shook his head, looking away as if he couldn’t bear to face you. “T… it’s unfair to say I’m not in this.” You tried to explain. “I don’t understand how I’m meant to show you… or to act differently with you don’t give me the space to do it, when you don’t want it. You don’t want me,” you muttered, you jaw tight. As you continued stating your defense, your reality started to come to light. And it was in sharp contrast to his. “You hiding me like a secret in your bed isn’t being all in.” You tried to explain and he shook his head. He was annoyed that your comment landed and while he understood it but he wouldn’t concede. “I said I’m sorry about tonight but you also could’ve come up to me. You could take what you want… I’m here Trent. I’ve been here.” You hiccuped feeling a lump in your throat form. It felt like you were drawing closer to a stalemate. It made you sick. You could feel it all closing in, what the only resolution would be. “Right now, all I feel is like I’m the one risking everything while you’re here upset at me for following your rules? You pull back the second I want to spend time alone with you, the second the boys might find out but then complain when I’m not on my knees for you, when I’m not a total mess the second you walk in. Waiting.” Your voice broke, and the crack in it cut through you deeper than any argument ever had.

“Maybe… maybe you’re right,” he finally said, the words coming out with a sadness that felt almost unbearable. “Maybe we are nothing.” He threw the word back at you. You felt tears prickling in your eyes, but you couldn’t find the words to make him understand, to make yourself understood. The silence between you grew heavy, and he let out a strained laugh, his voice tinged with bitterness. “You know, I thought you were the one person I could let my guard down with,” he said quietly, more to himself than to you. “I thought you were different. I thought… I thought you felt the same.” Trent felt sick.

“Trent, please…” you reached out, but he stepped away, running a hand over his face, visibly trying to steady himself. His gaze fell back on you, guarded and hurt, the vulnerability replaced by a distance that made your chest ache.

“I can’t keep doing this,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I can’t keep feeling like this is all in my head. You’re… You’re fucking with me. You’re hurting me. I just wanted you to be there for me. Tonight, be there for me. Stop toying with me.” He snapped, he seemed to fall back into anger and it made you upset. Toying with you? Was he serious? He couldn’t possibly be serious.

“I’m fucking with you?” You asked looking for some clarity, to get on the same page but instead everything was blank and all you felt was just anger. The same anger he was feeling. The emotion fell over you fast and hard. He wanted to be done. If he could accept this. If he could end this… you were in fact like all the others. Disposable. “You want me to be there for you?” You quipped back. Voiced raised. “Everyone thinks I’m obsessed with you, some stupid little girl with a crush on her brother's friend, yeah? That’s what they all think.” You could hear the desperation laced in your tone, the edge of frustration threatening to spill over. The argument erupted like a dam breaking, years of unspoken words and hidden emotions rushing to the surface all at once. You hadn’t planned for this moment to unfold like this. You hadn’t planned for it at all. But now, the words poured out before you could stop them. Trent’s head jerked back slightly as if the words physically hit him. His jaw tightened, but he said nothing, letting you continue. “And for what? To be pied time and time again? To be hidden away like some dirty little secret?” Your voice broke, and the first tear escaped, but you refused to let yourself falter. “You put me behind closed doors, Trent. Because you’re afraid. So don’t you dare be mad at me for not being able to comfort you. You arranged this.” Trent’s eyes narrowed, his face a mix of hurt and disbelief. He stood rooted in place for a moment, his hands curling into fists at his sides as though he was trying to hold himself back. But he couldn’t.

“Arrange this?” His voice rose, his tone sharp and biting. “You think this is my fault?” He stepped closer, his frame towering over you, the hurt evident in every line of his face. “You kissed me, Y/N. You. Don’t stand there and act like this whole thing—this mess—is all on me.” The memory of that moment—the kiss you’d dreamed of, the one you thought would change everything—now twisted into something ugly. His words were a slap in the face, and the tears came faster now, blurring your vision as you tried to steady your voice.

“Did you not want me to?” you asked, your tone quieter now but no less challenging. Trent opened his mouth, but no words came out. His silence was deafening, a chasm furthering between the two of you. He looked away, his chest heaving, as if he couldn’t bear to meet your eyes. “Did you not want me to?” you demanded again, louder this time, your voice cracking under the strain. He still couldn’t answer. It was hard to put into words. There was a part of him that questioned if he had wanted you to in retrospect. Yes, he wanted to. He wanted to kiss you but if it meant getting to this place. He wasn’t so sure. You began to cry harder. His silence was deafening. And that was when the floodgates truly broke. “So if you didn’t want me to kiss you,” you said, your voice trembling but louder now, “then what is all this? Why drag me along? Why make me think there was something more?” Your chest heaved with every word, the pain of saying them cutting through you like a blade. “I’m not here for a season of yours, T,” you continued, your voice rising with each word. “I’ve been here your whole life. I’ve waited for you. I’ve waited for this. So you tell me, right now, do you just want the attention, or do you want me?” The kitchen fell silent, your words hanging in the air like a loaded weapon. Trent looked at you then, really looked at you, his eyes wide and his expression unreadable. His lips parted as though he was about to say something, but nothing came out. That silence—it wasn’t just awkward. It was unbearable. It was deafening. Finally, Trent exhaled, a long, shaky breath as he looked down, his hands flexing and curling at his sides. He felt like he was going to cry. He’d never made you cry until you started this whole thing and he wanted that back.

“You’re not being fair,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, but there was no fight left in it. “You’re not being fair to me.” He looked at you honest and terrified. He could feel it all collapsing and there was no way to hold it up.

“Fair?” you repeated, your voice breaking under the weight of your emotions. “Fair is the last thing this has ever been.” You quipped. Trent’s face twisted into something you’d never seen before—guilt, anger, heartbreak, all mixed into one. His hands moved to his head, dragging down his face in frustration. And then, without another word, he turned and walked away. You blinked, stunned, as you watched him head for the door, his steps heavy, his shoulders slumped “Trent…” you whispered, barely audible, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t want to fight for this version of you anymore.The sound of the door shutting behind him was final, reverberating through the silence like a death knell. The weight of it all hit you at once, your legs buckling beneath you as you sank to the cold floor. Your hands shook as you wrapped them around yourself, the tears coming faster now, sobs wracking your chest. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Trent was supposed to be your safe space, your person. But now, the relationship you’d built together, the moments you’d shared, felt like they were slipping through your fingers, dissolving into nothing. And as you sat there on the cold kitchen floor, your heart shattered, the question lingered, echoing in the silence: Had you just lost him for good?

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter or of what's to come!

Next part -Chapter 10 - So Different xx

#trent alexander arnold #Trent Alexander Arnold x reader #alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold imagines #taa x reader #footballer x y/n #footballer x reader #fie fic #Movie Night Fic

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persephone411 · 10 months ago

Text

Ordinary life (jw x reader)

My first ever fanfic here. English is not my first language so there can be errors. Have fun.( Feedback is always welcome)

Summary: you meet John during a business meeting with your father, things heat up quickly and escalate as he drives you home

Mafia AU!, Dad‘s best friend, oral sex (male receiving)

Masterlist

The evening was cold and the restaurant was busy. Silently you look around the huge room, scanning everything while still looking cold and uninterested.

,,So, who are we meeting again?“ you ask your father, who sat with you on the round table, already looking though the menu.

,,An associate. I need him to do a job for me"

,,ah" you only say ,,what kind of job? smuggling guns again?"

you sip on your water, still not really interested in the business dinner your father has brought you to.

,,No, Mr. Wick will kill someone for me. He is a hitman. The best in the field to be precise. We are old friends“ after a while he added: ,,look (y/n) I know you don’t care about the family business unless it brings you money you can spend on pretty things, but I advise you, to be a bit more invested. You are my only daughter“

,,yeah, but I won’t take over the business. We both know that. Instead I am engaged to some guy I have never met before“

,,be quiet!, you’re causing a scene“

Your father hissed and looked around the restaurant, but no one paid attention to you.

You sighed and also grabbed the menu, reading it without actually caring about the various expensive and eccentric dishes. In the end all luxusry restaurants were the same.

After a few moments of cold silence between your father and you, he suddenly stood up.

,,John!“ He called out and you slowly look up.

When your father told you that John was a good friend of his, you had anticipated someone who looked like your dad. Slightly overweight and with already greying hair. Nobody could have prepared you for how attractive John actually was. Shoulder long, slightly wavy dark hair, a perfectly trimmed beard and dark attentive eyes. He was tall, at least one foot taller than you and although most of his body was hidden under an elegant black suit, you knew that we was well build. Although he was still talking to your father and hadn’t paid you any attention at all, you immediately sat up more straight. Your father noticed that and smiled.

,,John, I want you to meet my daughter (y/n), she will keep us company this evening“

You smile calm and politely, although your heart was beating like crazy.

,,Nice to meet you (y/n)“ You nearly shudder as you hear his rich, deep voice. As he shakes your hand, you can’t help but notice how small it looks in his palm.

,,Nice to meet you too Mr. wick“

Your voice is more quiet than usual and you feel like you could melt under his gaze.

After the introduction he sat down at the table.

During the whole time as he was reading the wine card, you could only stare at him, noticing how his brows furrowed slightly as he red though the different wines. Nervously you play with your napkin on the table. After a few minutes you three order food. ,,and I also have the Chateu Margaux“ John ads calmy. ,,I‘ll have a glass too“ you quicky add. John’s gaze met yours and you smile nervously. ,,good taste“ he comments with a slight smile. You return the smile and could feel yourself blushing at the compliment. After the waiter is gone, John and your father start to talk about business, but you felt John’s gaze every few minutes resting on you, causing you to cross your legs under the table. You shudder as your legs accidentally brush against each other under the table. Luckily and also surprisingly your father didn’t notice any of the stolen glances between you two. After a few minutes the tension became too much for you and you excused yourself to the toilet.

As you entered the huge marble bathroom you were luckily alone. As you breathed out all tension seemed to disappear from your body. You turned to the big mirror and touched your cheeks, noticing that they were burning.

,,Jesus“ you murmur to yourself, while leaning against the Mable counter. You shook your head and couldn’t help but giggle. Never before you’ve been so stunned by a man you only met half an hour ago. Of course you’ve met lots of handsome man as the only daughter of a mafia boss, but no one had such a strong effect on you as John.

For minutes you stood in the empty bathroom, mentally replaying every gaze between John and you. You had to be delusional, certainly he, a over 50 year old hitman wasn’t interested in a young mafia princess, who was also the daughter of his good friend. You finally broke free from your trance as another woman entered the bathroom. You smiled tensely at her and noticed with mild annoyance the wetness that had collected in your panties at the thoughts of John ,,Fuck“ you muttered quietly and played with the thought of getting yourself off quicky, but then you only refreshed your make up fixed your hair and pushed up your boobs slightly in the strapless dress and left the bathroom, feeling slightly more confident.

The confidence stopped as soon as you retuned to the table and met John’s gaze. Was it imagination or did he look actually hungrily at you?. You couldn’t help but feel caught because of your thoughts about him. You sat down again and only a few minutes later the food arrived. During dinner you tried to bring as much to the conversation between John and your father as possible, which brought you approving looks from your father. He was probably proud that you were finally interested in the family business, when instead you just wanted to get closer to the attractive hitman sitting with you at the table.

,,you raised her good“ John said after a while to your father, who smiled while you were beaming too under his praise.

,,Yes, I am very proud of her“

Your father confirmed. ,,and in a year she will marry Tarasov’s Son, bringing our families together“

,,Ah“ John commented with a neural voice.

,,I am not marrying him by choice“

You threw in quicky.

,,But you will“ your father said with a certain amount of coldness in his voice.

You sighed and turned back to your food.

After you three finished eating, your father invited John spontaneously back your mansion and you couldn’t hide your happy smile at the thought of spending more time with John, although it was in your fathers presence. Your father paid and you left the restaurant.

As you stood outside, your eyes widened.

,,is this yours?“ you asked and pointed to the sleek black mustang. It was a beautiful car and very fitting to John. Elegant but powerful.

John chuckled as he noticed your enthusiasm.

,,it is“ he confirmed while nodding.

You bit your lip.

,,can I maybe drive with you?“

You asked while coyly looking up at his face.

,,if your father allows it, why not?“

You turned around to your father

,,Daddy? Can I drive with John?“

You asked him while giving him your best puppy eyes.

He sighed

,,sure why not, But John, promise me that you take care of her. I‘m serious. If anything happens to her on the way to my mansion, I will kill you and I won’t care about that you are a professional hitman“

John chuckled and again you couldn’t help but shudder

,,I promise, our little princess will not be harmed“

,,our“ not ,,your“

You had to suppress a giggle.

Wordlessly John opened the passenger door for you and then walked around the mustang to get to the drivers door.

You sighed as you sank into the soft leather seats. The inside of the car was warm and you felt safe and secure.

,,seatbelt on” John ordered as he sat down in the drivers seat.

You pouted but he didn’t fold.

,,I’m serious about keeping you safe. Nothing will happen to you ”

Stunned by his protectiveness you put on the seatbelt and John started the car.

You couldn’t suppress your smile as the engine roared to live and the headlights went on. The cassette player also went on and quiet rock music filled the car. As you look over to your driver, you saw a faint smirk on his face. You two drove off though the strongly lit streets of New York City.

,,you know where my dad and I live?“ you asked him and he nodded while keeping his eyes on the busy street. After a bit you started to humm along to some 80s Hardrock song.

,,Guns n Roses? I wouldn’t have thought of you as someone who listens to that kind off stuff“

You smiled ,,well, Mr. Wick. You‘ve known me only for about five hours. There are many things you don’t know about me“.

Ypu look at him and he meets your gaze, because of a traffic light, his face is bathed in red light and the darkness in the car made the whole moment seemed even more intimate.You fought back the urge to place your hand on his thigh. After a bit the car left the busy city and the streets became darker and emptier.

,,you should have turned left“ you noticed as John drove in the opposite direction.

,,I know. But I also know a better Route“ he answered.

,,I probably shouldn’t trust a hitman saying that. You could kill me“

,,I could. But I could also do many other things with you“

His voice was calm, but you noticed how he gripped the steering will more tightly.

Immediately mages of him bending you over the hood of the Mustang flooded your mind and you bit your lip. One round bend over the hood and a second in the backseats sounded not bad. Inconspicuous you tried to take a look at said space. John chuckled.

,,This aren’t the thoughts of a good girl Mrs. (y/l/n). What would your father say?“ he taunted you playfully.

,,well luckily for you Mr. Wick, I am not a good girl“

He chuckled again:,, yeah, figured that out already. Little minx“

,,only for you Mr. Wick“ you practically purred ,,can I choose a song?“

,,Sure. You can connect that Casette to your phone“ he instructed you.

You connected your phone to his car and quicky found the right song. ,,Ordinary life“ by the weekend started to play.

,,you know, if I red the signs correctly I would almost say that you are offering me something“

John said after the first verse of the song.

,,maybe I am“ you answered him with a smirk.

,,Fuck you will be the death of me“ he muttered. Your eyes met and wordlessly he drove to the side of the road.

As soon as the the car stopped you reached over the middle console.

,,does this car have lights on the inside?“ you asked as you tried to find the zipper of his pants.

,,Sadly no, I‘d love to get a better view of you you swallowing my cock“ Johns voice was rough.

,,dammit, where the hell is the zipper?“

,,wait, let me help you“ John sounded amused as he slapped your hands away lightly, then you heard finally the promising noise and felt him move to free his cock. Quicky you opened your seatbelt, which had been digging into your shoulder and leaned again over the middle console. Then your hands found his errection and you couldn’t help but be amazed by its size and girth. Slowly you started to stroke it, firstly with one hand, then with two. John let out a quiet growl and his hand found its way into your hair.

,,Just like that“ he muttered darkly. After you felt the pre cum on his tip you licked your lips and wrapped them without a warning around him. He gasped in suprised and you started to twirl your tongue playfully around his member while he tightened his grip on your hair.

,,(y/n)“ he whispered, sounding a bit breathless.

You kept licking him until you finally took him deeper in your mouth and started to suck. A low moan left johns mouth and the sound of it alone made you wet. Slowly you started to massage his thighs and took him deeper, nearly deepthroating him.

,,Just like that. Good girl, take my cock“

He muttered, his voice was rough and sounded a bit strained. You got faster als started to bob your head, taking him deeper in your mouth. John moaned again as you ran your tongue over a prominent vein on his cock and you could feel that we was greeting closer. You swallowed around him and kept going. The car was still parked on the side of the road and it was completely silent except for Johns groans or moans and the wet sounds of your mouth.

,,I‘m close“ the warned breathlessly and tried to pull you off him, but you didn’t obey and kept going until his hips started to buck uncontrollably. You took a deep breath through the nose to prepare yourself, then he came with a hoarse moan. You took everything and swallowed obediently. Then you let yourself get pulled up by him and your eyes met. John was still panting as he starred at you

,,you are incredible“ he said quietly and wiped something from the corner of your mouth.

,,Thank you sir“ you whispered back.

He laughed quietly

,,keep calling me that while looking at me like that and I fulfill that fantasy of yours with the backseat“

,,I‘d love to“

He shook his head, then closed his pants.

,,Not today, little one.I‘ll have to get you home to your father“

You pouted but, then returned to the passengers seat.

He restarted the engine and his hand squeezed your thigh as you drove through the night.

Fifteen minutes later you reached the huge mansion where your father was already waiting for you.

,,Thank god, I was already getting worried. Why the hell did it take you so long?“

,,Empty gasoline tank. We had to do a little stop“ John lied effortlessly.

Your father only nodded.

,,Good, I hope (y/n) behaved. I know she can be a bit feisty, always looking for trouble“

,,Yeah, she’s got one hell of a tongue“

#john wick #John wick x reader #John wick x you #john wick x y/n #john wick fanfic #John wick smut #My fics

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sourw0lfs · 11 months ago

Text

STWG Prompt: Ruby

Words: 479 | Rating: E | CW: blood, death, one mention of the cops

part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || part seven || part eight || part nine || part ten || part eleven || part twelve

Steve decides immediately that he’s too hungover for this. His head feels like it’s full of cotton as he tries to make sense of the scene in front of him, but nothing about it makes sense. Not matter how long he stares. There are too many blanks, too many questions without answers, for him to puzzle his way through why there’s suddenly a dead body in his one-night-stand’s living room.

His stomach rolls again, and Steve barely manages to stumble back down the hallway and somehow find the bathroom before he actually throws up. Whether it’s from the hangover or from the dead body, he isn’t sure. Maybe it’s from both.

Either way, he spends several moments with his head rested against the cold tile of the bathroom floor, relishing in how it eases the ache in his head enough to try and figure out his next move. He oh so desperately wants to call Robin for help, because she always knows what to do, but the barely functioning logical part of his brain tells him that’s a bad idea, that he shouldn’t get her involved in whatever the fuck happened overnight.

He should call the cops, but that’s how he gets smacked right in the face with a murder charge that isn’t his. Maybe if he just… sneaks out really carefully? It’s not the best idea Steve’s ever had, but it certainly can’t be the worst either, right?

Hauling himself up and using the sink for balance, Steve glances in the mirror to give himself a pep talk. He might have the hangover from hell, but he can do this. The sight in the mirror nearly sends him to the floor again.

He’s covered in blood. And if the scene in the living room is anything to go by, none of it is his. But why the fuck is it all over him? His skin is stained so red it looks like he took a dip in a bath of melted rubies or something. No, Steve, that’s a dumb analogy. Focus!

Hand shaking, Steve reaches up to touch the drying red around his mouth, across the drips that seemingly rolled down his chin and stained his shirt. That’s also when he notices the same dark color under his nails, caked in under the bitten-down tips like they’d raked through the blood.

There’s no way he can sneak out looking like this. And he can’t take the guy’s clothes either because that’s also stupid. He is so, so, so, so royally fucked.

“What the fuck am I gonna do now?” he wonders to himself, eying the mess hopelessly. Cleaning it up wouldn’t be near good enough.

“I can help with that,” a voice from behind Steve says, making him jump and whirl around, as his heart tries to kick itself free from his chest.

“Who the fuck are you?”

tagging anyone that expressed wanting more: @chaosgremlinmunson @soaringornithopter @hbyrde36 @shares-a-vest @dreamwatch @quevadilla @just-my-latest-hyperfixation @tboyeddie @penny00dreadful @ent-is-indecisive

#fox writes things #steddie #stwg daily drabble

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eustasskidagenda · 1 year ago

Note

Hello! I love your writing! May I request some fluff with Kid, Killer, Mihawk, and Buggy where their s/o who has little cooking experience tries to surprise them by cooking something for them? Whether the food be good or bad is up to you! Thank you and have a good day!

Hi hi! Sure, always up for some fluff and I'm so happy to receive a request with Killer, I love this guy. ♡ Thank you so much for requesting. I hope the outcome will match your expectations. ☆

☆ Kid, Killer, Mihawk & Buggy with a s/o who has little cooking experience

CW :g/n reader, funny, fluff, Kid has a filthy mouth

WC : 1,4k

Kid

"It looks like shit. I won't put that in my mouth."

Kid is a sassy brat because this man is able to burn the water. Spaghetti with garlic, oil, and red pepper flakes is probably the only thing he can cook. Yes, Killer's favorite food. But he won't ever admit that he learned that just for Killer, obviously. He needs to keep his jaggy-attitude, as the good angry punk he is.

Kid knows you have little cooking experience and had tried to eat what you cooked, but he ended up almost suffocating and dying on the ground. He made a promise to himself to only eat Killer's food. And we all know Kid is stubborn. He won't change his mind: you almost killed him, he will never eat your food again.

But then, he notices your sad face, wet puppy eyes and all the effort you put into the meal. And, it’s his favorite food: cabbage rolls. Okay, now his heart is melting, but of course, he won’t admit it.

"Well. It looks like shit but… it doesn't smell that bad." With a heavy sigh, he rolls his eyes and sniffs the plate like a fearful dog.

He stares at you, suspicious, before planting his fingers on the cabbage rolls, watching if there are no bugs or whatever. Yes, he's been suspicious, petty, and he doesn't give a damn. "It looks… okay I guess."

Actually, he's confused. That food looks like it's comestible. Perhaps it's a trap. He should wait for Killer to taste it first. Or just stuff those cabbage rolls into your mouth: if you don't die or cough, maybe he'll try it.

"You know, if I die because of this food, I'll come back to life to avenge myself," before grabbing the cabbage rolls and eating an extremely small slice.

He's sweating, convinced that the nice appearance won't make up for the terrible taste. But… actually… it's… good. Like, he's not dying or suffocating on the ground. He doesn't even need to go to the nearest bathroom.

"Can I have some more?" After eating the whole plate and almost licking it like a starving person. He doesn't like to give compliments, but do you remember the scene at Udon camp where he was eating? Right now, it's him. So clearly, he likes what you cooked.

Kid is not a man many words and "thank you" doesn't exist in his dictionary. Although he would notice all the efforts you made and even the cuts on your fingers, the words are simply stuck in his throat. But, he would kiss your forehead and smear his lipstick on it. And later, he would leave a handmade metal gift of your favorite flower or animal, as a 'thank you'. Gifts are a way for Kid to show his love.

"You know what, I've changed my mind. Now I'll also eat your food." With his usual gruff voice and a flustered expression.

Killer

Killer is way nicer than his captain. Quality time is definitely his love language. So if you cook something for both of you, he's honored, truly happy and probably melting inside. The outcome doesn't matter that much. The intention already means a lot to him.

Let’s assume the outcome is not that good.

"Hm, Y/N, that seems… interesting. Really al dente." While observing the carbonized pasta.

Even without his mask, he's good at hiding his expressions. He's probably laughing because of the SMILE, but actually he wants to cry. He feels truly happy when you try your hardest just for him, but on the flipside, he knows it won't taste good.

Why him? Is dealing with a brat like Kid not enough for his poor soul?

If he gets sick from this food, who will keep an eye on Kid? He can't take a break with that hot-headed captain. Otherwise, the crew is doomed.

But he wants to please you, so he will taste it. And even finish the entire plate. Even if it was bad. You tried your best, just for him, all he can do is finish his food. However, he is not dishonest. "That wasn't very tasty, sweetie... But you tried your best to please me, thank you for your time. Maybe we can cook together the next time? I'll teach you some tips."

Finally, it's a win-win situation: thanks to your limited cooking experience, he has a good reason to spend more time with you. He’s already excited to teach you some recipe.

And as the educated guy he's, Killer will of course make the dishes himself, clean up the kitchen and thank you with a soft kiss on the corner of your lips. So now his purple lipstick is smeared on your face.

"I need to finish my work… I'll see you tonight. Thank you again for the meal, sweetie."

Casually walking through the door and once he's out of your view, he would run to the bathroom because he's getting sick.

"Ugh, you did that to yourself" (thank you for the support, Kid)

Mihawk

What a nice surprise to be welcomed with a beautiful table, his s/o well-dressed, red wine and some refined food. After dealing with Perona and Zoro all day, he only needs that.

Mihawk's high standards mean that if the food is looking great, it's a good sign. He would never approach anything that looks bad.

He knows that you may not have much cooking experience, but practice can help you make progress, right? Although the last time wasn't good, you can only improve yourself. Right? Right?

At least, if he dies from intoxication, the coffin will already be ready, thanks to his ship.

"Come share that wine with me, don't stay standing like this." While serving you a glass of red wine.

He's a bit suspicious about the food. Even though the meal may be nice, it doesn't guarantee it's good and tasty.

He's discreetly taking a sniff of the food. He has good manners, unlike those two brats, so he won’t make it obvious.

"Come sit with me and we can taste it together."

With his hawk eyes, he's looking at you and waiting for you to eat the food first. He's really observant, so he would notice all your expressions, even the most subtle ones. As your face shows no signs of disgust, then he would eat.

And its taste really good. Although it may not be the most refined, given his high-standard, it's tasty, comestible, and well-matched to the wine. The most important thing for him. You can't waste a good wine with a bad dinner.

"You really outdid yourself, that was perfect. I’m grateful."

Again, not a man of many words, but with his good manners, he would help you clean the dishes. Before returning to his duties (meaning: watching the kids), he would lend you his hat. This is a simple gift and a subtle way to say 'thank you'.

Buggy

"What, you did that for me? Why…? I mean, of course, you cook for me. What more normal? I'm the great Buggy after all."

He's feeling quite confused inside. Outside, he's acting as cocky and extravagant as he always has. After all, what’s more typical for the great Buggy to be served with a great meal? That's the minimum he deserves.

"Alright, let's eat it!" Before stuffing a huge amount of food in his mouth. And almost threw it back onto the plate. It's… foul.

"Y/N, WAS OUR RELATIONSHIP A LIE THE WHOLE TIME? WHY ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME?"

Really? What has he done wrong? Did he leave his makeup everywhere again? Or his clothes? Or maybe it's because he forgot to put down the toilet seat. Or... wait a second... there is red on the plate... red tomatoes… like his nose... are you making fun of him? How dare you? Yes, he's overthinking.

"That's a betrayal, I'm dying... I'm dead."

He's yelling and gesticulating wildly, and his face almost turns green due to the awful taste, but also red due to his anger.

He’s dramatically angry, of course.

"Listen everyone! y/n is trying to KILL me!"

The room is empty but okay Buggy.

He's exaggerating too much, it's not that bad. But here he is, rolling on the floor, holding his stomach, fainting. And as the drama queen, he is, of course, he’s using his devil fruit to fragment his bodies. "I'm so traumatized that I'm TORN apart."

When he notices your sadness, he shrugs.

"Ugh, Y/N, you know, maybe it was just the first slice…" he would say before giving one more chance to your plate. No, it's still bad.

"That's a masterpiece, Y/N. I'm in heaven." While trying to hide his tears. "So tasty!"Yes, he's trying to please you, because maybe he overreacted before and maybe he feels bad because you were sad.

But Buggy is way too loud and clumsy, he sucks with comedy. It's obvious that he's lying.

"That's fine, don't force yourself Buggy."

"Really? So our relationship wasn't a complete lie? Thank you Y/N, I love… I mean, what are you saying? I wasn't forcing myself, I'm the great Buggy, duh, no one can force me."

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luckyspade-8 · 1 year ago

Text

A gift for @cooldreamyfox from a discord exchange I'm in. Sorry if it's short, it's my first time writing hattercrow

Tw: small bit of body dismorphia, but mostly fluff

Sweet Dorks [HatterCrow]

Staring into the mirror and desperately trying to fix his shirt, Jervis felt so nervous. He didn't look good. The shirt didn't fit right, despite the perfect measurements. The colors didn't work together, despite the long hour of color matching.

"C'mon Jervis. Stop fretting over nothing."

"Jonathan, it's not working. And all I can feel if this lurking dread in my chest. I dont like it. Or what it's doing. I dont' want you looking."

"Tetch, would you please just come out the bathroom? We have places to be."

He did make a promised. It was going to be him and Jonathan's first heist together has a couple. And Jervis had the bright idea to get a new costume. It looked so perfect on the hanger, but now it just looks awful on him.

"I'm not sure you want to see. I truly look too gnarly."

"Tetch that doesn't make sense, at all. Could you please just step out so I could see?"

Taking a deep breath, he unlocks the door and steps out quietly into the hallway of their shared hideout. It was a fairly large place, considering Edward tended to stay there when his personal hideout would be found. It didn't help to make Jervis feel better. In fact, he felt himself sink down under the gaze of Scarecrow.

Finally seeing his boyfriends face, light tear streaks running down his face and his body shaking, Johnathan realizes his partner is actually upset. With a slight sigh and feeling his walls crumble, Johnathan bent down to see Jervis's sweet face.

"Jervis, your suit looks amazing. The wonderful shades of blue look incredible. You are the Mad Hatter. And compared to me, a walking burlap sack with straw sticking out of the wazoo, you are far better dressed than me."

Feeling his face flush red, Jervis avoids Jon's eyes, knowing his intense stare would make him melt. It's not the first time one of them needed a boost in esteem, but it certainly is new to hear this from Johnathan. He tended to silently give his support with a hand on the shoulder, or a pat on the back after a rough heist.

"Please, look at me Hatter."

Feeling his cold hand turn his face, Jervis is now looking back at a concerned Jon again, his mask on the rotten floorboard.

"You are incredible. And you shouldn't worry about some low life's opinion on clothing. I may incite fear deep in hearts, but you. You make people's heads spin round, leaving them in a dazed state that I could only dream of doing as a side effect. And I dont love you because of some cloth or dazzled up bowtie. I love you, because you are you. An wonderful man with brain to match, a hunger for revenge, and you are cuter than a button."

Melting into Jon's hand, Jervis gives a shaky smile.

Placing a small but sweet kiss, Jon looks into Jervis's face again, feeling his soft blonde hair in his hand.

"Well then, Dear, should we be off to that rotten college? We shouldn't keep the goons waiting, the last thing we need is for them to kill a hostage."

Feeling himself chuckle at the ryhme, Jon picks up his mask again. "Hell yeah, I want my tenure after all these years."

As they walk out the door, a smirking riddle can't help but laugh at the scene with a knowing smile.

"Fucking dorks."

#hattercrow #fanfic #Scarecrow #mad hatter #riddler #Hope you like it Mimi!!

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agirlwithdemonblood · 1 year ago

Text

The Broken Fan - Chapter 7

Pairings: Jensen Ackles & Reader (Read as first person!)

Series Summary: Always a nobody, always invisible, will this convention change things?

Chapter Summary: New life, New house, overwhelming isn't it?

Warnings: Panic attack, panicked reader, panicked Jensen, swearing

Series Masterlist here! Main masterlist here!

"How did it go?"

Jensen sulked in the doorway with a disappointed look and my heart nearly shattered in my chest. Today was the day he was telling Jared, his best friend, his brother, about us.

He was so excited, but so terrified. He wanted Jared to understand, to listen and really hear him out but to be fair, that is a difficult thing to do when your not in the situation. He was scared Jared was going to disapprove, or tell him he's being stupid. He was scared that his brother wouldn't stand behind him, wouldn't be there after this.

And from the look on his face, he was right. Jared didn't like us being together. He didn't approve at all. Jensen ducked his head as I rushed over with tears in my eyes, hugging him tightly to my chest. "I'm sorry Y/N." he spoke with a light giggle.

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion as I pulled my head back, noticing the smirk on his face. Before I could say anything, he burst into laughter and raised his hands in defense. "I'm so sorry Honey, I was trying to mess around but you looked so cute and sad that I didn't know when to tell you I was joking."

My mouth gaped open and I had to hold back from laughing to get my sweet revenge. I plastered on the best hurt face I could and pushed my hands through my hair. "Wow Jensen... I can't believe... Why would you do that to me?"

His laughter stopped as his expression dropped, concerned eyes boring into mine. "Honey, I'm sorry, it was a stupid joke..."

I spun away from him to hide the smile. "Yes! It really was, actually it was cruel. Your a jerk." He reached out to touch me but I knew I had to present the grande finale before I could let him know I too was joking, so I rushed away to the bathroom and slammed the door.

A mere seconds later his knuckles were tapping on the door, his voice coming out soft and desperate. "Please come out, Y/N I'm so sorry, honey talk to me."

I shook my head and smiled before standing up and facing the door. "No, I'm sorry!"

"For what?"

Laughter started pouring out as I opened the door, watching the shocked expression appear on his face. "Sorry for getting you back."

He was frozen, his eyes darting around like he was trying to figure out how to react, but as soon as the wide smile appeared, we both burst into laughter, leaning into eachother.

"You are so evil!"

My head tilted back as laughter poured through me, "How am I evil? You started this!"

He shook his head as the laughter died down, eyes boring into mine with such love and adoration to the point where I could barely breathe just staring at him.

I cleared my throat and a nervous smile ghosted over my lips, "So seriously, how did it go?"

His smile nearly lit up the room as he pulled me into his chest, hugging me tightly. "It went really well. At first he was kind of silent and in shock, understandably, but he said he's never seen me this happy and just wants the best."

"That's amazing!" My heart was pounding in my chest and the relief soaked through. I knew Jared was the one person Jensen really counted on for their opinion and if he didn't approve or support this, I really don't know if Jensen would still be here with me.

"We should get ready to leave." Jensen mumbled in my hair, "I love you honey."

My heart melted, my eyes glancing up to face him, "I love you too Jensen. So much."

You know those iconic movie scenes where the couple takes their very first road trip, and there's a whole montage of them singing together, sharing food, messing around with each other, and you just stop and think, my god how I want that?

I always thought those movie scenes were so cheesy and ridiculous. You can add romance to anything with the right music. But two hours ago, Jensen and I got in the car together and... well, there definitely should be a montage on our lovely road trip together.

Somehow, I felt closer to him than I've ever been, and we have only been driving for three hours now. We shared stories of our hardships and held each other's hand when it was too much, we laughed and made jokes and sang our hearts out and cried together.

These were the parts of our relationship that people didn't understand, from the outside it seemed so fast and stupid, I've only known him for two weeks.

But if they sat in this car and watched how we talked and loved each other, it would seem like we have been together for years.

I have been driving for the past two hours while Jensen napped on the sat beside me, head resting on the window. I couldn't help but allow my eyes to linger on his sleeping form, cringing everytime his head smacked against the window when I hit even the smallest of bumps.

My hand came on his shoulder gently as I shook him awake, "Hey, Jensen, c'mon lay your head on my lap, it's more comfy."

He smirked sleepily as he moved closer towards me, his head moving downwards to rest onto my lap, hand on my hip holding his place. Honestly, staring at the way he was laying on me, i had to hold back the tears at how adorable he was, how amazing it felt to be able to take care of him for a change.

It's insane how many things have changed since I came to the convention. I had a shitty job with an asshole boss, no friends or family, nobody to count on or talk to. I was alone and forgotten. Yet here I am, side by side with somebody amazing, somebody who genuinely cared about me, the good, the bad, the ugly, whatever baggage I had he was prepared to be there, and god I've never loved somebody more.

And I'd prove that to him, every single day.

The GPS chimed through the silent car announcing that we were approaching our destination. I couldn't help but frown at the idea of the road trip being over, even as excited I was to start our new lives, I'd miss this.

I pulled on the side of the road, my hand resting on his cheek gently to wake him up. His eyes fluttered open and he yawned deep in his chest causing me to giggle. "You feel better?"

He nodded and kissed my leg before sitting up in his spot. "Thank you for letting me sleep honey, I'm sorry I didn't entertain you more."

"It's totally fine, you were tired." I reassured, leaning closer to peck his lips. "Also, staring at your cute face while you were sleeping was entertaining enough."

He smirked against my lips and deepened the kiss, making my head dizzy with lust. "Oh really?"

"Mhm."

He pulled away and winked, leaning back against the seat, "So instead of paying attention you decided to risk our lives because I was too cute?"

I nodded as a smile pulled on my lips, "It's worth it. Anyways, we are almost there, so I need you to let me know what I'm looking for"

"It's a house." He spoke, looking out the window, "Your almost on our street so just keep going and than turn left, it's the first one there."

The car rumbled back to life as I pulled onto the road, anticipation flowing through my body as the GPS announced we were pulling up. I was so excited yet every part of me was screaming in fear, this was it, the moment we started our lives offically.

I turned onto the street, my jaw dropping and eyes widening at the sight of the biggest house I've ever seen, surrounded by a beautiful white gated fence. There's no way that this is...

"This is it." He read my mind.

I pulled into the driveway and rolled down the window, staring at the place I was about to call my home, the emotions were overwhelming and nerve wrecking, yet filling me with unbelievable happiness at the same time.

"Wow Jensen.." I whispered nearly inaudibly, "Your house.. holy shit, this is gorgeous."

He chuckled deep in his chest as he leaned on his seat, pecking my head sweetly. "Our house baby."

i shook my head and turned towards him, the fear becoming more evident on my features causing him to frown. "I-I don't even know what to do with a house like this, I've only ever lived in my car."

His hand reached towards my cheek, brushing the skin with his thumb gently, "All you need to do is look pretty and get a good night's sleep, and you could never fail the pretty part."

I blushed deep in my cheeks and took a breath before I slid out of the car, waiting for him to join me. My heart was pounding with every step towards the door and my head was spinning, was I dreaming? There was no way this was real.

His hand reached to mine, squeezing tightly as he unlocked the door and gestured me inside.

My eyes were darting right and left, unsure where to land, or what to focus on first. I could feel my chest growing tighter as I waited for him to take the lead and thankfully he did.

He lead me room to room showing me around, and every room was just as much overwhelming as the next. I was confused, and unsure of myself. I've never lived in a house like this let alone stepped into a house like this before, how was I going to stay here everyday? What if this panic feeling inside my chest never goes away?

Don't get me wrong, the house was gorgeous, every little detail put in just opened my eyes to who Jensen really was, and I loved it, I could die happy in this house but the thought of me fitting in here was unsettling, how in the world was I going to even find my way around without Jensen being my personal tour guide?

"Jensen..." I whispered as my head grew dizzier by the second. He looked back at me with concern and worry in his eyes, stepping closer to hold my arm. "Can I sit down for a second?"

He nodded as he brought me to our new bed, sitting on the edge beside me. I took a shaky breath inside and leaned onto my knees.

His gaze stayed on me, hand rubbing my back gently as possible, "If it's too much we don't have to stay here honey, trust me it's fine."

My eyes shot to his in confusion, why would he ever leave this place for me? That would be selfish and wrong, terrible for me to ask, I could never do that.

I shook my head and sat up, my hand moving to my chest to try and ease my pounding heart. My eyes darted around the bedroom, it really was amazing. There were balcony doors right across the bed, a large in suite bathroom and a massive closet-not that i could benefit from because I have a maximum of two pairs of pants and 3 shirts.

Jensen leaned closer and grasped my hand in his and I could feel him staring me down with concern even if he didn't need to. I'd be fine, I was fine just overwhelmed and panicked about the feeling inside of me.

"Honey, talk to me please." He pleaded.

"It's stupid Jensen, seriously don't worry about it, I just need a second."

He pushed himself off the bed to in front of me in between my legs. I started into his eyes and swallowed the lump as the anxiety was ready to pour out like a cup that was being filled beyond the brim.

His eyes stayed locked in on mine, such heartbreak and fear overflowing them, and I realized i had to tell him, I had to open up even if it was scary, i owe that to him.

"I'm just... overwhelmed, it's a lot."

He nodded understandably, leaning down to press a kiss to my hand. "I know, i have no problem moving baby, I swear you matter more than four walls and a roof."

I shook my head frantically and stood up away from him. My chest was ready to explode, my air was being cut off and I couldn't see straight, it was too much.

"I-I don't want that, the house is great, gorgeous really. It's just... I've only lived in my car really, and I've never been in a place like this. I'm terrified that I don't fit in this lifestyle, that you made a mistake picking me."

He stood up quickly and wrapped his arms around me from behind, holding me to his chest tightly. His lips pressed down on my head over and over, physically trying to reassure me that he had me, and I wanted it to work, but god it felt like I was being held underwater and nobody could pull me up.

i tried to focus on the way he was telling me to breathe, saying that everything was okay but i was having a difficult time grasping what the hell I was doing here. My mind was swarming with awful thoughts the more I stood here, my eyes taking everything in.

Suddenly the room felt smaller and suffocating, I couldn't move, I couldn't breathe.

Jensen stilled against me as he heard my breathing cut off, his head turning to check my expression. He sucked in a harsh breath as he saw my expression, noted how I was pale and struggling to let air inside my lungs.

Without thinking he turned me towards him, pulling me down to sit on the floor in front of him. His hands came on my cheeks as they fluttered in exhaustion. "Honey, Breathe, please breathe."

With a shaky hand, I grabbed the coller of his shirt and held as tight as I could, "I-I can't..."

His concern only grew as he watched the weakness settle in, the light dim from my eyes, and my lips turning light blue.

"Look at me!" He all but yelled causing me to jump, "Look. Take a deep breath okay, Count to 5 and inhale... good now exhale."

I followed his direction the best I could and what felt like forever later, a huge breath of air shot down my throat. We sat in silence as i came down, Jensen waiting until I was breathing stable to relax himself.

"I'm sorry... Jensen." my throat croaked out.

He shook his head and pulled me tight into his lap, "Don't apologize, ever, for feeling the way you do. It's a lot, especially for somebody who's never been in a place like this. Whatever you want to do to make this place more homey for you, let's do it. We can put your clothes away later so it feels a bit more like yours, small steps."

I scoffed and shook my head, "I have no clothes, no stuff, not really."

"He smiled gently, "You will tomorrow, we are going to go shopping."

"No." I nearly yelled, "Your not buying me stuff, I wouldn't be able to pay you back and I don't want you to do that for me."

He rolled his eyes and laughed, "Sweetie, your my girlfriend and I love you. I want to take care of you and that includes making sure my lil lady has clothing and stuff for our new house, right?"

I nodded as my thoughts wandered. How was it that after two weeks, we were so serious. How were we moving this fast? How was he so perfect for me... ME?

"Jensen, can I ask you something?" I whispered.

"Of course."

I sighed and turned towards him. "Do you think we are crazy? I mean... we just met two weeks ago and we are living with eachother, your buying me things and we are saying I love you. Are we completly out of our minds?"

Laughter rumbled out of his chest like thunder as he leaned back, face filled with amusement. "Yeah. I think we are. But what we feel inside is real. I know that i love you, and yes your right it is fast but I think we are making up for lost time. You mean a lot to me Y/N and I really do love you, I don't understand how i fell so fast but all i know is that when I look at you, I know this is meant to be."

My heart swelled as I leaned forward, kissing him deeply with every emotion I could, "I love you too, so much Jensen. Your right, this is meant to be."

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Like, comment & reblog -feedback is my fuel ❤️

The Broken Fan taglist: @magssteenkamp @creative-writing92

#supernatural #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean x reader #supernatural one shot #jensenxyou #spn fic #jensen's smile #jensen x reader #dean

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lostfracturess · 6 months ago

Note

Yaga mirrored his stance, the tension between them a storm about to break. "Happened to me? Dr. Gojo, have you considered the consequences of your reckless behavior? You're the one spiraling, and frankly, it's becoming unbearable." at least satoru isn't a greedy old ass 🤨🤨🤨

"His gaze fixed on you over his glasses as he turned the screen, revealing your student record, the failing grades glowing a damning red. "Tell me, which subject would you like to miraculously pass? A click of my fingers, and it's done" he's so fucking disgusting, i bet she would rather die than take this kind of... sop. brother eugh

"Satoru couldn't know about your father's death day — the reason why starting this week was unthinkable. You didn't tell him. But why, then, was he so vehemently pushing back?" i just know he does. idk how but i am sure he does. and the way he said it with firm certainty 🫠🫠🫠

"Your eyes slammed shut, but it did nothing to drown out his voice, the panic. Rain plastered your hair to your face, soaking you to the skin" it's mirroring the scene of his confession 😩😩😩😩😩 i am such a sucker for rain scenes, I don't know it makes me Feel Something™ AND SATORU WITH HER DURING THE PANIC ATTACK AS USUAL (except for the 10 chapter 😭)

"He didn't touch you, didn't offer empty promises. He simply held the jacket over your head like a shelter, shielding you as best he could against the downpour. His own white shirt clung to him, soaked through." and this? this will be the death of me. i imagine this as them against the whole world (in some way it is....) it feels so intimate :((((

"Not the absence of pain, but the strange feeling of calm, of home — something you always felt with him." I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE THEY ARE LITERALLY HOME TO EACH OTHER, MY POOR HEART

"All his attempts to distance himself, to push you away — and here you were, thrown together once again by forces far beyond your control. You hadn't sought this, hadn't chased after him. Yet, life it seemed, had a cruel sense of humor" I really think it's inevitable for them, they are really so drown to each other it's insane. and i just thought that satoru saw her breakdown just like she saw his in the previous chapter 😭 mirroring :(((

"God, you're so full of it! Your precious ego won't let you admit you need anyone, even someone who actually cares about you."

"My ego? Don't you think it's a little hypocritical to pretend you care after pushing me away?"

"You stupid woman." His anger faltered. "I'll always care, always look after you. Because I can't stand it—I can't watch you hurt. I—"." THEY'RE LITERALLY THE SAME I CAN'T HELP BUT DRAW PARALLELS BETWEEN THIS SCENE AND THE SCENE IN HIS BATHROOM IT'S DRIVING ME INSANEEEEEEE

"You'd seen glimpses of this before — flashes of protective fury or moments of vulnerability. But never like this. Never so raw, unguarded. He looked at you as if you held the key to his survival, as if your very existence was both his lifeline and his undoing.

Love."

I AM KILLING MYSELF, IF GOJO SATORU LOOKED AT ME LIKE THAT I WOULD MELTED IN INSTANT. the way you describe his feelings is so painfully beautiful 😭

"I'm not finished," you said, a hand raised to silence him. "I wanted to scream, to rage, to make you feel my pain. But I kept quiet, kept my distance. Because I knew you weren't ready to face this. And I won't force you to." BABY SHE LOVES HIM SO MUCH SHE DIDN'T DESERVE ALL OF THIS, MY POOR GIRL AND MY POOR SATORU 😭😭😭😭❤️

"Perhaps you weren't so different after all" yeah you're both equally stubborn

"I love you," he finally whispered. "As long as I breathe, I'll love you."

"I hate you," you said. that's clearly not a type of confession i wanted, but it's s&c, what did i think about 😭 at least it's kinda romantic. especially his words, but when will we get a proper confession, miss nici please 🙏🙏🙏

"Nothing about this is 'okay'," she retorted. "You look like you're about to have a breakdown. You can't keep this up forever." YES MAKI OUR FIERCE QUEEN KICK HIS OLD ASS, I LOVE LOVE LOVE THE WAY YOU DESCRIBE HER!!!!!!

at least satoru isn't a greedy old ass

say it louder for the people in the back !! i know he's not really like this in the manga/anime, but like ... i need him to be an ass for the plot, so bear with me !! <3

brother eugh

why did i hear this with like the tiktok audio voice in my head 😂😂😂

it's mirroring the scene of his confession 😩😩😩😩😩 i am such a sucker for rain scenes, I don't know it makes me Feel Something™ AND SATORU WITH HER DURING THE PANIC ATTACK AS USUAL (except for the 10 chapter 😭)

yes he really is with her through all her lows and it's so ahhhh cure, romantic, idk it's everything to me !! <33 but also her with his lows?? like they are always there for each other, no matter what goes on at that time. like even if they are mad with each other, still they can count on one another ahhhh. i'm weak !!!

& i love rain scenes too, if i could i would let it rain all the time, so i'm glad we're in autumn rn in the story bc more rain and all that !!!

and this? this will be the death of me. i imagine this as them against the whole world (in some way it is….) it feels so intimate :((((

nahhh it really is them against the world yessss 😭😭

the way you describe his feelings is so painfully beautiful 😭

thank u so so much!! so gald u like the way i write emotions :')

yeah you're both equally stubborn

true ☠️☠️

at least it's kinda romantic. especially his words, but when will we get a proper confession, miss nici please

i think this is the nearest thing u can get to a proper confesion in this story ahahhaha & so happy to read u like how i portray maki. she really is the queen !!

#inbox #symptoms and causes

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dragonmuse · 2 years ago

Note

I'm inspired by the recent talk of Sweeney and I need some fluff in my life featuring Lucius/Izzy (just accidentally read an anti-Izzy fic! booo! ☹️), soooooo could we get a scene when Izzy and Luc get home from the Olympics and see Sweeney for the first time after being away?

( I am so sorry cause this started cute and then got very serious because I kept meaning to finally have Izzy and Lucius talk post-Hymn and I guess I was ready! So this isn't actually fluff, but I think it's still some pro-Izzy content?)

The first place Izzy went was Read’s door which Lucius probably could’ve predicted if he’d thought about it for more than a second. He set down his bags outside their door and slumped against the door frame.

Lucius was starting to think that he hated travel. Sure he’d had a few nice vacations over the years, but between a hotel that he never thought about and this recent emotional gauntlet, he never wanted to leave home again.

“Hi!” Read opened the door with a bright smile. “You’re home!”

“We are,” Izzy agreed. “You good?”

“Yep, and so’s your place. I just went in this morning. All the mail is in your basket and I turned the a/c on, so you should be good to go.”

“Thanks,” Izzy gave her a short nod. Then sighed as Read hugged him. “It was a week.”

“I know, but an exciting one,” she winked at Lucius over Izzy’s shoulder as the man hugged her back. Lucius suppressed a tired laugh. “He did good.”

“He did,” Izzy drew away. “I’ll be back in the office in two days. Should be enough time for you two to clean up after yourselves.”

“Place is totally fine,” Read shrugged. “You could come back tomorrow morning.”

“Maybe I will.”

“Maybe you should,” she met the challenge.

The stare off was also kind of funny, but if Lucius didn’t shower soon, he was going to itch off his top layer of skin and he'd left his keys inside Izzy's apartment. They didn't both need them.

“You’ll be too jet lagged,” he put in. “Come on, goblin, I’m dying for hot water.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Izzy shook his head. “Two days.”

“Okay, boss,” Read laughed and shut the door in his face.

Pete would be nearly home already too and Lucius could picture him already preparing stories for Frenchie and John. Lucius would join him tomorrow. He’d considered breaking the routine they’d set up to go home with him today, but if he was honest, he needed the break. Every conversation they had now felt tender and a little fraught, neither of them fully healed from the burn just yet.

From deep inside the apartment, there was a tiny sound as they walked in. It started off tiny anyway. Sweeney streaked into the living room, spotted Izzy and then raced to butt his head against the man’s shins with desperate cries.

“I think someone missed you,” Lucius said wryly.

“It was just a week,” Izzy said, but it sounded far more hollow than when he’d said it to Read.

Izzy squatted down and Sweeney put his paws onto Izzy’s knees, rubbing his face against his goatee.

“Hey, hey now,” Izzy said softly and Lucius’ already bruised heart melted a little further. “Don’t be ridiculous, you’re okay. Read took good care of you.”

“Mew,” Sweeney rebutted.

Izzy picked the cat off the floor with a sigh. “Why don’t you go shower, pup?”

“Yeah, I will.” Lucius reached out to offer Sweeney his fingers and the cat licked his fingertips. “Oh wow, never done that before.”

“He’s getting soft in his old age,” Izzy said as if he wasn’t rubbing Sweeny’s intact ear between his fingers gentle as anything.

Lucius watched them for a bit longer, swayed away from his immediate needs by the quiet moment. But he did really need a shower. With a sigh, he left behind his suitcase and made for the bathroom. The relief of being in the familiar bathroom with the very assertive water pressure that Izzy preferred was tremendous. Lucius stood beneath the stream for a long time, letting the heat melt the knots between his shoulders.

When he got out, he could smell something cooking. With just a towel around his waist, he went to investigate. Izzy was standing at the stove while Sweeney lingered at his feet, watching it with the same intentness.

“We have food?” Lucius asked, bemused.

“Froze some things before we left. Hate coming home to an empty fridge,” Izzy shrugged. “It’s just some chicken parm.”

“You’re amazing and I love you, if I haven’t told you lately,” Lucius enthused, suddenly starving.

“It’ll take a half hour at least,” Izzy smiled fractionally without taking his eyes off the oven. He looked sleepy and rumpled.

“Time enough for a shave,” Lucius nodded.

“And to put your clothes in the hamper.”

“We just got back!”

Izzy lifted his heavy gaze from the oven to Lucius’ face and lifted some unimpressed eyebrows. Lucius sighed.

“Yeah, fine.”

Of course, Izzy had already unpacked his things, including his bathroom stuff which he’d somehow put away without Lucius hearing him enter or exit. Lucius added his clothes to the hamper, having to jam down a little considering how much he’d gone through. Touching each item brought back unhappy jolts of memory.

Let Izzy wash it all away if that’s what he wanted. Lucius threw crumpled receipts and tissues into the wastebasket as he turned out pockets. Tomorrow, Lucius would do the same for Pete, taking back over his little domestic chores. Trying for normal.

They sat at the island to eat. Or Lucius sat and Izzy stood on the other side as he generally preferred and conversation was jettisoned in favor of eating a meal that finally tasted like something after so many in a row on an airplane or in the airport.

Izzy’s eyes were heavy-lidded and despite the early hour, they both gave in to the call of jetlag, falling into bed by mutual agreement. Lucius' sleep was mercifully deep and untroubled by dreams. He slept through Izzy getting up and going for his run, waking to the sound of the shower.

He rolled out of bed and made them both oatmeal. They made it through breakfast without talking too, but then there was nothing left for it. Without discussion they both headed for the couch and Izzy sat down beside him instead of on the floor.

It wasn’t that they hadn’t talked about it. It had been unavoidable, but Izzy had kept the focus on Pete as much as possible or trying to distract Lucius. It was good to be supported like that. Believed and trusted that strongly. Izzy didn’t doubt that Lucius had kept it a secret for good reason, and hadn't implied he owed more of him than Lucius had been willing to give. It was more than Lucius deserved, but he had taken it with both hands.

“Ask me,” Lucius said now. “Whatever you want to know.”

Izzy nodded slightly, looking straight past Lucius, staring into space as far as he could tell.

“I’m not sure what I want to know,” Izzy said slowly.

“No? You’ve had time to think about it.”

“Yeah, but...dunno,” Izzy shrugged. “I don’t really care, I guess.”

“Iz. What?” How did this man never fail to surprise him? To wrong foot him?

“I care that it upsets you. But it doesn’t change you. Doesn’t change what we have together. So your father is a piece of shit? Yeah, mine too. Yours is in prison? Mine should be and we both fucking know it. He just kept his shit closer to home where it’s harder to see.”

“Yeah, but I knew...well. I guess I didn’t know your father was alive right away,” Lucius recalled. “You were pretty cagey about that.”

“Mm. Preferred not to think about,” Izzy nodded. “Bet you did too.”

“Preferred is not the word,” Lucius groaned. “But okay. So...I’m starting to get a better picture here. You can relate?”

“And that’s just not how we work, is it? You and Pete have that kind of...” Izzy paused, fishing for the right words, “you love each other like that. Showing each other everything and leaving nothing back, right?”

“I guess,” Lucius considered. “Yeah. Secrets aren’t really our thing.”

“And we're different. Though I think if I’d ever asked you point blank where the fuck your father was, you might’ve told me.”

“I don’t know that. I’m not going to lie and say I would’ve for sure.”

“Okay. But if Pete had? If he pushed you at all?”

Lucius sighed, then nodded, “Yeah. Yeah probably.”

“We’ve always had things we didn’t say. Places we didn’t go,” Izzy said without any noticeable upset at the idea. “And most of those belonged to me. I figured we didn’t go there because you didn’t really want to know. But now I think...kept us even, huh? Even if I didn’t know that's what was happening.”

“A little,” his voice came out small. “You’re really not angry? I kept waiting for it to bubble over. Sometimes your anger has a hang time.”

Izzy shook his head. “Really not, pup. I- this might hurt your feelings, I don’t know.”

“Say it anyway.”

“He scares you. You’re scared. How can I be pissed when you hid something out of fear? I did everything because I was afraid for so long. I get it.”

“I’m not-” he started to snap, then closed his mouth in a hurry. Scared? He was scared of a lot of things. Blood, heights, dogs that barked too loud.

But maybe there was something below that. He could push past heights to pain the mural. He could keep his cool around blood if someone he loved was hurting.

There was a different kind of fear. The kind that got him at the hotel, that deep dark phantom of death. That’s where his father’s memory lived, Lucius thought. In the pits.

“I’m not afraid of what he’ll do,” Lucius reached out, took Izzy’s hand and was painfully grateful when Izzy laced their fingers together. “I’m afraid of how much of myself I’ll see in him.”

“You will,” Izzy said and it was so stark it was almost painful. “Some. But just the parts that were worth taking. Eddy always had that right. See the few good bits, fish ‘em out and steal them for yourself.”

“But...it’s dark. Those parts.”

Izzy nodded. “Seems like something you should like..talk to a therapist about or something.”

“...oh you asshole,” Lucius started laughing and only laughed harder when Izzy looked very pleased with himself. “How fucking long have you been waiting to say that?”

“Mm, fifteen years give or take.”

“Long wait for a gag. What’ll you do now?”

“Dunno. But it’ll probably be with you, so it’ll be good.”

That cut his laugh dead and Lucius just launched himself into Izzy’s lap. “I hate how good you’ve gotten at all that. Such a smooth talker these days.”

“Got a funny way of showing hate,” Izzy shifted a little, balanced Lucius comfortably on his thighs.

“I’ll show you more of it before I have to go.”

Lucius leaned down to kiss him. Maybe he’d be a little dark for a half hour or so, the casual kindly cruelty of their intimacy overtaking him. If he had grabbed bits of his father for himself at least they were of use here, taking care of Izzy exactly the way he wanted while Lucius scratched at a deep painful itch.

Afterwards, the imprint of his fingers still lingering around Izzy’s neck, he asked,

“Would you have fallen in love with me if I couldn’t do this?”

“You wouldn’t be you, so the question is stupid to begin with.”

“But when we met I didn’t know I could do this.”

“You put your hand on my chest and told me what to do within a half hour of meeting me, even though you had every reason to be afraid of me,” Izzy reminded him. “You didn’t have to know. I knew.”

“I love you,” Lucius kissed the marks on his neck.

“Love you too, pup.”

On his way out the door, Lucius stopped to pet Sweeney, pressing kisses on his head. “You keep an eye on him for me, would you?”

Lighter, ready, Lucius went back out into the city. His husband was waiting for him and Lucius felt ready to begin their life again, maybe a little unsteadily for a bit, but the path ahead still stretched out before him like a fresh promise.

#leda house and the kraken verse #ficlet #goblin king and the pup #izzy hands #lucius black

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nctdreams4me · 2 years ago

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Late Night Meet-Cute with Taeyong

*An imagination that came to my mind. It’s full of fluff and about nothing.*

My friends and I arrive at a sushi bar late one night. Peak late night hours so it’s packed. We’re forced to sit at the far end corner of the bar, near the bathroom.

One guy is seated at the end and my friends force me to sit by the stranger. T_T I’m a good sport about it. All I notice about the guy is his jean jacket has a nice floofy faux fur collar. It’s hiding most of his face. He’s also bent over his food eating silently, left hand playing a game on his phone.

When it’s time to pay for our food, I see that the waiter put more food on my tab than what I got.

“When did you get the waigyu beef?” my best friend is asking, peering over my shoulder. “And 3 bottles of beer?”

“I didn’t!” I didn’t mean to sound so upset T_T I’m just an expressive person who puts too much effort in everything I do.

“Sorry.” The most gentle voice is coming from the jean jacket. He’s so pretty. Big brown eyes, super high cheekbones, heart shaped face with soy sauce dripping down his chin. “I think the waiter put my order with yours.”

“It’s OK.”

I want to say more but he’s so good looking. He’s wiping his face clean and putting his phone away. I continue to stare at him when he flags the waiter over and explains what’s going on. He’s so professional and calm.

“Thank you for clearing that up.” I say when we’ve finished paying for our food.

I look around and my friends have left me. Likely, they were all too drunk to realize they left me behind. I sort of freak out, text my best friend that I’m going home from the restaurant since I don’t want to get lost trying to find them.

“Can I buy you an ice cream?” I look up and the cute stranger is staring at me. “I feel bad about the mixup.”

I’m super shy but I’m a little drunk and this stranger doesn’t make me feel uncomfortable.

“Sure.”

As we get up and leave, we exchange name. I tell Taeyong he has a really cool name. He is super modest about it, thanks me and asks me how my night is going.

“My friends and I were at that new club, and it was so much fun. I’m feeling good.”

Like a dork who does before she thinks, I start doing my silly little dance moves. Laugh at myself, and I feel super embarrassed but also flattered when Taeyong nods along a bit as if he feels the same beats as me. We laugh together and I notice how cute the shape of his nose is from the side profile. T_T Girl, I’m a sucker for cute guys with pretty smiles. And his smile is so cute!

“Um what about you? It’s so late to eat and drink all by yourself in a busy bar.”

I feel so bad for asking when the lights disappear from his eyes and his shoves his hands into his jacket pockets. His smile is gone, but a closed mouth half grin appears as he stops and stares at me. He rolls his eyes - so cute - and looks behind him.

“What’s your favorite flavor of ice cream?”

He heads into a convenience store and I follow. In my platform boots and cupcake skirt. Seeing our reflections faintly on the fridge doors to the drinks, I want to laugh. We look like a scene couple from the 2000s.

I feel myself blushing. OK, he’s cute and all but don’t go straight to thinking BOYFRIEND MATERIAL. Taeyong is talking and pulling a drink out but I’m too busy freaking out that this guy is actually really freaking cute and I’m hanging out with him.

I finally tell him that my favorite flavor of ice cream is chocolate, and I have to tell myself that my drunk ass needs to stop day dreaming. I guess that his favorite flavor is strawberry and my heart melts when he laughs and says his favorite is green tea.

I get a coffee boba popsicle and he gets an orange sorbet. I really have no idea where Taeyong and I are going but the ice cream is good and he bought me a bottle of water. T_T And he got my favorite brand of water.

I’m in love.

I mean- no. No, I’m not.

But he’s like....so cute and clearly we’re vibing.

I realize he’s way drunker than me when he trips over the concrete and spills the sorbet all over his front. We’re actually really close to my flat, so I offer to help him clean up at my place.

My flat is small. Studio so I have no couch, just a bed. No TV. But a laptop and desk! I also am lucky to have a sink and hot plate. And of course, a kitchen table.

Taeyong sits on one of the kitchen chairs as I wet a tea towel at the sink.

“I really like your fashion,” I say, drunken ramble tumbling out of mouth - out of my control. “The way the leather pants and blue denim go together is so...is it 1980s or 90s that leather was huge? Both, I suppose? And your shirt! It’s all orange now.”

He’s so quiet and I feel so stupid. I realize we’ve been staring at each other. I’m way drunker than I realize when we kiss.

Usually I will be freaking out and push the person away and tell them I have to think. Yes, dork. I know.

But drunk me. I like how he kisses so I kiss him back.

I wake up in bed and Taeyong’s gone. I don’t even remember falling asleep ToT

I’d been much, much drunker than I thought. ToT

On my kitchen table is a note.

“Thank you for letting me sleep over. - Taeyong”

He also wrote his number.

This means he likes me, right?

*I’ll probably add more to this day dream if I think more about it!*

#nct imagines #taeyong imagines #taeyong fluff #my rambles #nct dreams

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taegularities · 2 years ago

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rid. rid! RID!!

I just read the drabble and ugh i hate you so much (im jk i love you with my whole heart 🫶) but MY GOD! i was put through so many emotions for such a short drabble 🫡 first of all, jungkook is so hot, its actually a crime 😔 i can just imagine his fboy, cocky aura LOL (rip to hoseok's bathroom 🤭)

second, the fireworks scene was actually so heartbreakingly sweet in such a unique way. i kept having to remind myself that the drabble takes place in the past and that they aren't as deeply attached and close yet 💀 but this specific line rid... “I think you’re the only person who’s bearable enough tonight.” 🫡🔫 LIKE HELLO?? its such a small thing, but it actually melted my whole girlboss, anti-men aura 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️esp knowing how closed off and reserved he was during that era UGH 🧎‍♀️

also, im so glad you set the drabble in the past! i think as the story progresses, you kind of grow with the characters and fall so deeply in love with their current situation. so the flashback drabble really opened my eyes as to how much the cmi couple grew. bc honestly their character development is unreal! (i just know jk would give her a new year's kiss now) im so excited for the future chapters ❤️

lastly, ur note at the end of the drabble, omg. i totally understand being scared to return to tumblr, esp after being gone for a while. ive seen so many other authors lose their support or hype bc they took a hiatus. but im beyond glad you returned! i cant imagine not seeing your reblogs and interactions on my timeline ❤️ you are truly loved here and have absolutely nothing to worry about!

im beyond proud of you and cant wait to see what else you produce! 🫶🫶

-wife from war anon 💂‍♀️

HEHEHE HELLO !!!

oh my god, yeah, his cocky aura was a lot more tangible when he wasn't soft as hell for oc just yet. you know, as the story progressed, i noticed how their banter got a lot less, since they're so into each other now and focus on making each other happy. but to go back to their roots and the bickering was so refreshing, so 🥺

girlboss, anti-men aura lmfaooo 😭 but yeah, definitely need to keep in mind how much his words mean, considering they weren't that close back then and that jk really was very closed off (after his break up with you know who and all...). i'm so so happy you're digging the character development omg that's always such a huge compliment 🥺 i'd definitely love to write more flashback drabbles.

and yeah, i did notice that a lot of people i used to talk to here are gone... like, the vibe was definitely a little different during cmi4 than it is now :( but so many of you lovely people are still here, and i focus on that 💕 so thank you for your support. it means so much, and i love you, too, really 🤍 ty ty ty <333

#poor hoseok's bathroom...#oh yeah speaking of hoseok.. still waiting for someone to mention something there 👀#notes for rid 🌹#wife from war anon 💂🏼‍♀️#fic: colour me in

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redvexillum · 25 days ago

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I thank the PERSON who apparently bullied Kit into doing Kinktober because I'm being fed such delicious Adam content and I'm living for it!!!

The minute you stepped into that bathroom, decked out in that baby pink, heavenly, literal angelic goddess getup, I could practically see the blush on Adam’s face even though he’s this high-and-mighty heavenly general. The detailing on your outfit is chef’s kiss—like, I’m genuinely jealous of that outfit - it's like the perfect balance of cute AND sexy.

And Adam! Holy wow, this man is a walking contradiction—here he is, this ultimate soldier of Heaven, yet he’s sneaking down to your apartment, and let’s be real, the man doesn’t even knock! The way he just owns the place? It's giving me allllll the vibes. Also, “going to make me blow my load just from looking at you”??? Excuse me, sir! That’s exactly the reaction you know you wanted, and he’s delivering it with such raw need. Adam's got it BAD.

And then there’s the whole dynamic here, that little ache of “I wanted to be heavenly for you.” It’s subtle but so painful—you want his love so much, want to be his equal, and Adam’s just…wrapped around your finger, totally done for. I’m telling you, the way he holds you, the gold ribbons, the rough yet tender possessiveness of “going to fuck you in this” while he just drinks you in… it’s HOT AS FUCK.

Oh, and the way he’s totally at ease, teasing you, calling himself the “dickmaster” (how dare he make that sound so hot), yet he’s being so careful with you, like every touch is something precious. And you—sweet sinner angel, willing to wait all year just to have him, the things you feel but can’t say… GAH. This is heavenly and sinful in equal measure, and I’m 100% here for it. FUCK - I wanna write my own version of this because this is such a delicious TROPPEEEEE

ALSO, WTF, KIT, this line - Adam’s cock as something specially “crafted, shaped, and formed just for you”—like, hell yes it was. It’s like you were made for each other in this raw, cosmic way, and that connection just takes the whole scene to a higher level. And the way you describe his rough yet reverent hold on you? It’s got me weak!

AND HIS WINGS?? The image of him using those majestic golden wings to thrust harder, to literally push himself deeper—it’s like the pure essence of Heaven colliding with the deepest of desires. Dead. I’m actually dead.

Adam calling you a “sinner slut” and promising to “breed your sinner cunt”? EXCUSE ME. HOW PUSSY DRUNK WAS HE - BECAUSE DONT STOP! THAT WAS SEXXXYYYYYY!!!!! And can we talk about that moment at the end? The way he melts into you, his wings trembling from his climax, and then holds you—my heart! You whispering, “Can you stay?” I swear, I felt that in my soul. It’s like he’s torn between his duty and the way he’s completely fallen for you, even though he might never admit it out loud. GAH, the angst and yearning!

AHHHHH - I just want a series.

Satin Ribbons (Angel Adam x Sinner Reader)

CW: Smut, Adam typical degradation Rating: Adult Summary: It was once a year that you got to see your angelic lover. A romantic, or perhaps just sexual, tryst you waited all year for. This year, you dressed yourself in something you hoped Adam would think about all year long.

You stood in the bathroom, flickering light casting and banishing shadows as you turned this way and that. Your reflection looked back at you, examining the cloth and ribbon draped over your frame. The outfit you wore was a custom order- so unlike anything else that one would find in hell. It was sweet and not in the corrupted way that so many liked to fetishize. Baby pink covered your curves, shiny satin reflecting the light as it cupped your breasts and fluttered out around your torso, ghosting over your hips and just covering the swell of your ass.

Golden trim and feather accents lined up to trick the eye, exaggerating your figure. Polished golden heels clicked against the worn laminate floors. Golden ribbons wrapped around your neck, tied in a bow. That same golden ribbon made up the strap of the thong you wore and the band of the bubble gum pink stockings on your feet.

You looked sweet, like candy, and you hoped, heavenly.

There was one day a year when you got to see your heavenly lover. Only one day when he could venture down from heaven above and while his army raged battle against the city, he would come to see you. You were safe because he loved you. At least, you hoped he loved you. You knew he loved your body, so close to human and yet the small bat wings on your back made sure he couldn’t forget what you were.

Dirty. Disgusting. Sinner.

For him you wanted to be heavenly.

There was no knock on your door. He simply walked in as if he owned the place.

“Babe- you here?” The general of the heavenly army called into your apartment as he shut the door behind him. The curtains were already closed. A smile spread over your face as you listened to the sound of his helmet thumping down onto the ground. A rustling of fabric followed as he tossed off the bulky robe he wore.

“Coming,” you called, dabbing the excess petal pink lipstick from your lips and then stepping out and into his line of sight.

“Holy fuck,” Adam breathed. “Hot fucking damn. What are you wearing?”

“Do you like it?” you asked timidly, stepping closer to the first man.

“Do I like it?” Adam scoffed, hands reaching out for you as his eyes bounced around. “Fuck, babe. Gonna make me blow my load just from looking at you.”

You laughed lightly, a sound Adam looked forward to hearing every year. “I had it custom made, I wanted-”

“To make me nut?” Adam teased, fingers running over the mesh of your stockings as you drew closer.

“I wanted to be heavenly for you, if only just for today.” A flush settled on your cheeks, darkening your pinkish skin a little more.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard,” Adam promised as he traced the golden trim around the cup covering your breast before tracing the golden feather that was placed so that it was practically hanging from your nipple. Each teasing run of his nail over the sensitive skin drew your nipple into a tighter bud, making the illusion all the more pronounced. “That heaven will hear your screams.”

“Please?” You moaned, arching into his touch.

Adam stood, large rough hands cupping your breast properly as he pulled you tightly to his body. He pulled the tank top off and tossed it aside, moaning at the soft slide of satin against his skin.

“You’re such an angel for me,” Adam whispered as he leaned down, kissing you softly.

“I try,” you sighed as his hand ran down your back, a soft caress between leathery wings. “For you, I try.”

“Good girl,” Adam whispered. “Going to fuck you while you’re wearing my color. Dressed in gold for me.”

Large hands gripped your ass, lifting you from your feet. You wrapped your legs around his waist, golden heels clicking against eachother as he carried you easily to your bed. It wasn’t comfortable, but if you were going to dress up like an angel for him, he’d give you the proper treatment while he dicked you down.

He held you high on his waist as he walked, using one hand to unbuckle his pants and send them falling around his ankles. For a moment, he stumbled over them and your giggle, so musical and pretty, filled his ears again. Then you were kissing him again as he shed his boxers, stepping nude up to the bed.

Your hands ran over his soft skin, greedy for the feel of muscle hidden under the softness that marked him as a real man to you. Soft and strong, unforgiving and kind. He was everything you wanted.

“Fucking leave it all on,” Adam said as he climbed onto the bed with you. “Going to fuck you in this.”

He pulled at the ribbon at your hips, undoing one bow and shoving the fabric aside. Large fingers ran up your newly exposed slit, finding you just as wet as you always were. Having the first man inside you was all you had thought of for the last few days, and you were far more than ready for him,

“Please,” you whimpered as he spread the slick over your folds, gathering it on his fingers. You watched as he coated his thick cock with it. “Please, Adam. I need you.”

“Who do you need?” Adam teased, bracing himself on his arm as he ran the head of his cock up and down your folds.

“Need you,” you whined, wiggling your hips as he slowly inched forward with each title that dropped from your lips until he bottomed out, “Need Adam. Need the first man. Need the dickmaster.”

“Damn right you do,” Adam said as he curled over you, resisting the urge to just pound into you. “Fuckin’ wait all year for me to come fuck you stupid.”

“I do,” you reached up, running a hand over the broad expanse of his chest, feeling the softness that hid powerful muscles that ripped apart your fellow sinners, ending their existences. He would never hurt you though. “I wait every year.”

It was as close as you would ever come to saying you loved him.

Adam looked down at you with soft eyes. His eyes were always soft when he looked at you, even if his words were not. He pulled out of you slowly as your ankles locked together behind his back. Large hands grabbed your thighs, fingers running over the fishnets of your stocking and the silky ribbon as he hiked the circle of your legs higher up his waist. The change of angle had him reaching deeper as he plunged into you.

Each thrust had you panting, spread wide on his thick cock as he slowly increased his pace. Your breasts bounced with each labored breath as his weight pushed into you. Sweat began to gather on his neck and shoulders as his thrusts rocked you, hitting deep inside.

“Fuck,” he whispered, fingers flexing into the dirty blankets on your bed before wrapping around your back as he rolled, pulling you with him. It took a moment for you to gather your legs under you and then you were riding the great angel general.

“Adam,” you moaned his name as you sank deeper down his shaft, feeling his head push up against your cervix.

The first man had the first dick, and it was your opinion that it was expertly crafted, shaped, and formed just for you. Or perhaps you were made for him. It didn’t matter. What mattered was the way his hips rolled up into you.

You rose up, cunt sliding along his length as you looked down at the man below you. Leathery wings fluttered as his fat cock drug along your walls.

“Going to fuckin ride me?” Adam asked as his hands found your hips, gripping you as you hovered, head of his cock just inside. “Fuckin’ ride the first man?”

“Yes,” you moaned as you sank down. “Anything for you.”

“Fuck,” Adam moaned, watching as your pink cunt swallowed his shaft, “Fuckin’ show me how good you can ride me.”

You did as he said, bouncing up and down his cock, pace quickening with the urging of his hands on your hips. Adam looked up at you, so perfectly human as you bounced, his large cock filling you again and again. Brown eyes, so warm, watched you as you threw your head back, pink hair cascading down your back as you bounced.

“Fuckin’ hell.” Adam moaned, watching your tits jiggle with every bounce. Fingers dug into the fat of your hips, urging you to slam down on his cock faster and faster. “Fuckin’ ride my fat cock like the whore you are. Fuckin’ sinner slut. Fuck. Fuck!”

“Fuck,” you moaned, bouncing faster as Adam fucked up into you.

The strap of your top fell off your shoulder, slowly dragging further and further down your arm with each bounce of your tits until the breast on that side bounced free. Leaning back, you planted the palms of your hands on Adam’s thighs, bracing yourself as he fucked into you.

“Fuck yeah,” Adam moaned, reaching out to cup your naked breast, thrust forward as your back arched. “Fuck babe, on display for me. Fuck!”

You squeaked as Adam shot forward, taking your nipple in his mouth in a wet, sloppy kiss that was all tongue as he pushed you back. In a matter of moments, you were on your back, Adam fucking into you from above. He hooked your knees over his shoulders, folding you in half as he thrust harder and harder.

Each thrust had you crying out his name, body slamming into your clit. You were thrust violently toward the edge, not having a chance to even catch your breath as you were flung over. Muscles twitched and bunched, trying to stretch as your orgasm washed over you.

Your cunt clenched and twitched around his cock as he stuffed it inside you again and again. Heavy balls slapped against your ass, splattering the slick that poured from you with each impact.

“Fucking dirty sinner,” Adam groaned out as you looked up at him, eyes unfocused and fucked out as he thrust you through your orgasm. “All you’re fucking good for.”

“Adam,” you moaned, struggling to arch your back, ankles twitching as he fucked through your convulsing walls.

“Going to stuff you with my fuckin cum,” he threatened as he locked eyes with your dazed ones. Large golden wings arched out from his back, shedding feathers as he used them to push his thrusts harder, flapping them in time with his hips. “Fuckin’ breed your dirty sinner cunt. Fuckin’ make you take everything I’ve got.”

“Please,” you whimpered as he fucked yet harder into you. “Please, give it to me.”

“Fuckin’ damn right,” he groaned as he worked into you again and again, thrusts wild and hard. “Stuff you with the first man’s seed. If anyone can breed your sinner cunt, it’ll be me.”

“Want it,” your voice slurred as he refused to stop or slow enough to let the pleasure running through your veins subside. “Want you. Want dickmaster. Want your cum. Need it.”

Adam groaned, hips slapping into you as he reached his end. His wings flapped twice before tensing, standing out from his back in large golden arches. Each twitch of his cock painted your cervix white, giving you the seed you so badly craved.

Thrusts slowed as he let your legs fall to his sides as he melted into you. His cock twitched inside you as you wrapped your arms around him, caressing down ruffled hair and feathers alike.

“Can you stay?” you whispered as he shifted much of his weight off of you. “Just for a little while?”

“Only a little,” Adam whispered back, looking at you in a way that almost made you think he would kiss you in the post orgasm glow.

“I’ll take a little,” you said as he shifted, moving to hold you instead of being held by you.

Your eyes dropped lower with every lazy blink of your eyes. While the angelic army outside your apartment hunted and slew sinners, you dozed off to sleep in the arms of the enemy general.

As long as Adam came to you on extermination days, you would look forward to the chaos and bloodshed eagerly. As long as the man you loved came for you, you would be safe.

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leviathans-watching · 2 years ago

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chaos causer | chapter 4

includes: mammon x gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

wc: 2.5k | rated t | m.list | series m.list | ao3

a/n: (have this a day early. as a treat <333) and this is it! lmk what you thought in the comments/in my askbox if you're so inclined lol

taglist: @blorbostation @paige-the-plant @megacuntsandwichuniverse @furblrwurblr @thebixchyravenclaw @beelzebubisbestboy @yourtypicalnpc @emsieeee @blipblopsworld @multifand0m-gal0re @lemon-girl @lemon-irl @macherise @mygfmika @itsmeninerz @kokiifruit @aurora-vorealis @dari-kun @t-misaki @serendipity-imagines @evilsailorsenshi (i can’t tag bolded names)

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please reblog v,,v

Mammon stares at you, eyes wide. You give him a look, as if to say trust me, even as your heart thumps painfully in your chest. What are you doing?

“Explain,” Lucifer demands. “Now.”

“Perhaps this is a conversation best had outside of the bathroom hallway?” A voice asks, and you whirl around, coming face-to-face with Barbatos, who waits for you to move. Lucifer, of course, is the first to obey, and you watch as he regains a handle on his emotions, wings and horns melting away as if they were never there.

“Forgive us,” he says, walking down the hall to Barbatos. You and Mammon follow suit, and belatedly, you realize you’re still gripping Mammon’s hand.

You don’t think there was a big enough scene to alert everyone else, but of course Barbatos, and by extension, Diavolo knew something was happening. It would be foolish of you to think otherwise. When the four of you reenter the ballroom, everyone turns, confused.

You surprise Mammon once again by stepping forward. “Everyone, I’d like to apologize for my behavior tonight. I did not act in an appropriate manner and I hope I haven’t ruined the celebration. That was never my intention.” Lie. “Please forgive me.”

Diavolo cocks his head. “Perhaps some background knowledge would be beneficial?”

You crack a wary smile. When Mammon had intruded on your tête-à-tête with Lucifer, you had known that there were two options: double down or tell the truth. Mammon had been ready to tell the truth, but you fear from his original explanation of his brothers that that will only make things worse for him. And that’s the last thing that you want. “The truth is, I was putting on a show, purposefully acting rude and inappropriate because I wanted to test the mettle of Mammon’s family and friends. It was a dumb plan, but I think it worked, because I now know something important.”

“And that is?” Satan asks.

“That you all love him. Dearly. In the time that I’ve known Mammon, he’s confessed that sometimes you all, well, mostly you, his brothers, say things that put him down.” You grimace a little as you speak, eyeing Mammon. Hopefully, he’ll forgive you for spilling his secret. You’re trying to salvage the situation the best you can, and that, unfortunately, requires some of the truth. “And since I care about him dearly I wanted to see what would happen if I came down here and did- well, what I did. Call it stupid, but I’ve never been known to have the brightest ideas, as Solomon could tell you.”

“That’s true,” Solomon says when everyone turns to look at him. If he’s surprised you decided to expose your relationship, he doesn’t show it. “Back at school, there were incidents that almost caused MC’s suspension or expulsion.”

“School?” Simeon inquires.

“I’m a sorcerer,” you explain. “Solomon and I were in the same class, and on occasion, partners. He sniffed me out earlier in the night and confronted me.”

And he knew you still weren’t telling the truth now.

“So that’s why the two of you looked so cozy.” Asmodeus taps his chin. “And to think, I was almost starting to get jealous.”

You watch as Solomon rolls his eyes, but you can read him better than most and know that you’re not the only one keeping secrets, and his seems like a certain fondness for the fifth-born.

“So you don’t actually flirt with every demon you meet?” Belphegor asks, and you shake your head with a rueful laugh.

“No, I’d never actually betray someone like that. I’m sorry if I made anyone uncomfortable with my unwelcome advances.”

Leviathan squints at the both of you. “Did you actually meet gambling online?”

“That was a lie,” you admit. “We did meet online, though. We just knew you’d disapprove of me more if I displayed some of the same characteristics Mammon here does.” Despite your best efforts, a little bit of venom sneaks into your tone. You have become surprisingly protective over him.

“And Mammon was in on this?” Lucifer asks quietly, and you let Mammon take that one, not wanting to reveal anything else he isn’t comfortable with.

“Some of it,” Mammon says, swallowing. “I knew that MC was gonna act up, and I was kinda curious so I played along. Sometimes I am a little, uh, discouraged by the things that are said so some sick part of me wanted to see what would happen even though I shouldn’t have.”

Many of the brothers’ expressions shutter, but you can make out a lot of regret, even if they still don’t fully understand the situation.

“It pains me to know that you felt you had to go to such lengths to… prove we loved you, if I’m understanding correctly,” Lucifer says stiffly. “I can think of many instances where I’ve been too hard on you or spoke without considering the impact, and I’m sorry. Mammon, I’m sorry for not noticing the effect my words and actions have had.”

“I’m sorry as well,” Asmodeus says, eyes glistening. “You’re my big brother and I hate that I’ve made you feel like this.”

“As do I,” Satan tacks on, and the rest of the brothers quickly apologize too, each seeming to truly mean it. You think Mammon’s a little overwhelmed, but his small smile contains the force of a thousand suns.

“‘M sorry too,” Mammon says. “It was dumb of me to do somethin’ like this.”

“Again, I’m sorry I was acting so poorly,” you say in a lull of silence, ducking your head. “If you’d like me to leave, I’d totally understand.”

“Now, let’s not be rash,” Diavolo says. “I’m not sure this situation requires such severity. You were acting out of the goodness in your heart, even if it was misguided. I’m sure we can salvage the night and continue on.”

You look to everyone else. “Are you all okay with me staying?”

Surprisingly, it’s Lucifer who speaks up first. “You may stay. I’d like a chance to get to know the real you, as I’m sure we all would. There must be some redeeming qualities you posess, if you’re actually with Mammon.”

There’s a murmur of assent, and you sigh in relief, not even taking offense at the barb. No bloodshed, no getting thrown out, no one yelling at you or Mammon; all in all you’d call it a success.

“I’d like a moment to speak with MC in private,” Mammon says, and oh yeah, you had backed yourself into a little bit of a corner with him.

“Of course,” Diavolo says. “Barbatos, lead them to a private room.”

Mammon waits until he hears Barbatos’ heeled boots click away from the door before he faces you.

“Ugh, I’m so sorry,” you say in a rush. “I just spoke and didn’t think about how it would affect you.”

“What are you sorry for?” Mammon asks, confused. “I should be the one sorry! I made you have to deal with all of that! I never thought it would blow up like that!”

“So you’re not mad at me?” you ask hesitantly. “Even though you’re now stuck in a relationship with me for longer?”

“Mad? No way! You’re a freakin’ genius,” Mammon insists. “You managed to explain everythin’ in a way that made everythin’ good. And,” he adds, feeling his ears heat up, “there are worse people to be stuck in a fake relationship with.”

You stare at him for a long moment. “I meant what I said, you know. Somehow, in the short time I’ve known you, you’ve endeared yourself to me. You deserve to be treated well by those around you.” You scratch your neck, looking away from him. “This may sound kind of crazy, but Mammon, I like you a lot. If you’re willing, I’d love to give actually going out a try. But,” you hasten to add on, “no pressure! Tonight was a lot so I can understand if you don’t want the craziness that surrounds me!”

Mammon’s stunned. He’d noticed the way you fit so well with one another, how incredibly in sync you both were, but he’d been so busy thinking about their plan that he hadn’t stopped to consider why. He’s realizing he’d felt it since your first meeting- a weird, magnetic pull between the two of you. Something just drew him in.

“I wouldn’t mind that,” he says slowly. “I like you too, and honestly, tonight was the most fun I’ve had in a while. I can see us, you know, goin’ on dates and stuff. Plus, life gets kind of boring down here. For some reason, I think that would change if I were to spend more time with you.”

“Really? I’m so glad.” Your grin threatens to split your face and Mammon is relieved to see that now-familiar mischief in it, dancing in your eyes once more.

“Hey, feel free not to answer this,” Mammon repeats the words from his first meeting with you, “but why put that ad up in the first place? Isn’t there someone you could be celebrating with instead?”

You laugh, small, gasping sounds that sound a little painful. Maybe your adrenaline is crashing like his is. “The truth?” you ask, and he nods. “I didn’t have the luxury of a family that lived as long as I have. When becoming a sorcerer, how my body was affected by time changed. I’ve been classmates with Solomon, so as you can guess, I’ve been around a long time.”

Mammon feels a little bit horrified. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you say genuinely. “I’ve long grown used to it. But it doesn’t make spending the holidays alone much more fun. And like I said, I really don’t want to intrude on any of my friend’s celebrations. I know they’d love to have me, but something inside just won’t let me attend. I know it sounds sad,” you say, “but now I’ve met you, haven’t I?”

“That’s true,” Mammon allows. “Well, it sounds like you’ll be around here for a while longer, so let me tell you now: you’re always welcome to celebrate with me.”

“Thank you,” you say, catching his hand. Yours is now familiar in his, so he doesn’t hesitate to grip it gently, running a thumb over your knuckles. You carefully move closer to him until you’re a breath away.

“Can I kiss you?” Mammon asks, and you move even closer, other hand finding a home on his shoulder. As far as first kisses go it’s not that spectacular, but your lips are soft. There are no fireworks and the ground doesn’t shake, but Mammon thinks it’s perfect.

You’d argue that the second one was better.

“Shall we get back to the party?” you eventually ask, brushing his hair back like you’d done outside the House of Lamentation. To think, it was only earlier that day when it felt like forever ago! “I think I still have some making up to do.”

Mammon nods, pulling open the door, holding it for you. The two of you retrace your earlier steps and rejoin the party as seamlessly as you can. You make your rounds, individually apologizing, and Mammon watches from afar. Your genuine remorse softens even Belphegor, who grudgingly apologizes for his own behavior as well.

“MC always does the unexpected,” Solomon says, sidling up to him. Mammon starts, turning to face the sorcerer. “Although I hadn’t expected to two of you to actually…”

“Shaddup,” Mammon says, though there’s no real heat behind his words. He’ll never admit it, but he’s actually a little glad Solomon was there tonight, though he was aware that if Solomon had decided to reveal them, things could have been much worse.

“Hey, I’m serious!” Solomon watches Luke shyly accept one of the dessert pastries you hold out to him. “MC’s always been an interesting figure in my life. Not my friend, exactly, but I’m glad the two of you are happy, even if it is together.”

“You never know when to quit, do you,” Mammon says, and Solomon only laughs before taking his leave, drawn to Asmodeus like a moth to a flame. Or perhaps it’s the other way around, Mammon thinks, watching his brother smile with genuine warmth for once, wrapping him up in a disgustingly clingy hold.

Mammon watches you for a bit longer before you turn to him, face open and happy. He likes that you look that way. Likes that he and his family and friends made you look that way. He can’t stop his own reflecting smile back and that seems to satisfy you.

“MC is very interesting.” Lucifer’s found his way to Mammon’s side, taking Solomon’s place. “I’m not sure how I feel about it all, but please know I was serious earlier when I apologized. I know there’s more that you and MC aren’t telling us, but I’m willing to let sleeping dogs lie.”

“Thank you,” Mammon says, throat dry.

“I’m glad you’ve found someone that was willing to support you like that, even if I don’t agree with the method.”

You throw your head back, laughing loudly enough that it carries across the room to the two of them. Diavolo, who is presumably the cause of it, laughs too.

“Thank you for not making MC leave,” Mammon says, and jumps a little when he feels Lucifer’s gloved fingers on his arm.

“Of course.” Lucifer’s light touch grows stronger when Mammon doesn’t shake him off. “One action to right some of the wrongs I’ve committed. I know there’s a lot I have to make up for, but-”

“No,” Mammon says, “this is enough. Really. Just you acknowledging it and saying you’ll try better. And I will too. Some of your criticisms are valid, you know.”

“Will it ruin the moment if I say I know?” Lucifer asks, and Mammon snorts.

“Yeah, I’d say so.”

“Then I won’t,” Lucifer decides. “I love you, Mammon.”

Mammon blinks rapidly. “You’re going to make me cry at a party, jackass. But, I love you too.”

Barbatos stands at Diavolo’s shoulder watching him watch you.

“I’m glad we decided upon this reality, my lord,” he says, and Diavolo nods.

“As am I. MC sure is an interesting little human. I’m interested in seeing how this changes things within the Avatars’ family as well as within the Devildom. If the future remains the same as you’ve seen, things will be quite shaken up around here.”

They will, my lord,” Barbatos agrees. He can’t help but feel an odd fondness for you. Nothing overtly familiar or soft, but watching your past and seeing the determination you’ve thrown yourself at your tasks with, the single-minded goodness that seemed to permeate every action you took… it was quite refreshing.

“Barbatos,” Diavolo says suddenly, and Barbotos turns to see Diavlo looking at him, and not the couple across the room.

“Yes, my lord?”

“Do you think we have room for another human in the exchange program?”

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

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michaelmyers-isdaddy · 3 years ago

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random michael myers hc nobody asked for |

plus-sized/chubby s/o

I was bored so I came up with a few headcanon's plus i apologize to my followers I haven't been active lately because I've been gaming to much😅 anyways I hope you all enjoy!

@ddeadlystbbxx i was listening to streets by doja cat while I wrote this

micheal found out how he felt for you through romance movies. you had to go to work so you just put on a random movie on for him to give him something to do. he wanted to kiss you so bad but he didn't know how so he would pay closer attention to the kiss scenes in movies. and surprisingly he is a good kisser.

if you are plus-sized or chubby you will make his cold heart melt. he loves giving you hugs and cuddling he especially loves laying his head on those thicc thighs 😉 and if you're feeling down about your body he will worship your body for hours, he thinks your an absolute goddess and he will make damn sure you will feel like one too.

though he doesn't have mommy issues he loves it when you get protective of him or when you're motherly, one time he burned up with fever while coming down with a cold and you took care of him taking his temperature every 4 hours and making him soup, he loved getting all of your attention so much he faked being sick for a few more days.

even though he is stubborn he lowkey loves when you pamper him, one night he came home full of dirt and blood so you ran him a bath and scrubbed and massaged him, you actually had to wake him up a few times.

he likes to watch you put your make-up on he doesn't know why you need it but it fascinates him watching you put it on kinda creeped out by your false eyelashes though, like one time you left them on the bathroom counter top and he slammed his hand down on them like 10 times thinking it was a spider, you had to stop him from taking his knife out and stabbing them.

michael wouldn't want to think of you as his girlfriend he thinks of you as his wife, to him it means that you're his forever. he will eventually get you a ring (more like steal but that's okay he's doing his best) he will hunt for married couples more often, if he finally finds a ring that reminds him of you he will take it, when he gets home he gives it to you not bothering to wash the blood off.

if you have mental or physical illnesses and your not feeling good on some days he will stay with you like I'm talking glued to your side, he is also 1000000% protective mode if you're ill, if you're sleeping and the neighbors are cutting their lawn or making any kind of ruckus he will silence them if you know what I mean. 🔪🔪🔪

he loves your cooking even if you burned the food he will eat it.

he only talks to you but not full sentences just words he is more of showing actions rather than words, he will compliment you all the time he'll say words like "pretty or "beautiful" in a deep voice.

if you're going in the shower or bath he will follow. to him it's just an excuse to see you naked.

#michael myers #michael myers headcanons #michael myers x chubby s/o #michael myers x plus-sized s/o #halloween #michael myers 1978 #michael myers x reader #michael myers 2018

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lovelybarnes · 3 years ago

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get the girl- p. parker

pairings: peter parker x reader, mentions of ned, betty, mj, and brad warnings: unrequited love (kind of?? implied), lotsss of pining and fluff, a little long about: requested! (DF4) “you fell asleep, i couldn’t move.“ + (DF31) “maybe if you stop staring at her and actually talk to her, you might have a chance.” a/n: been wanting to write a peter parker friends to lovers for a while, so thank you so so much for requesting this. i swear i don’t usually take this long?? i got carried away and it got way longer than i expected, i hope you enjoy! thank you for requesting!

peter thinks it’s hopeless. the cliche he’s stuck in seems cruel- no matter what the movies you (and, fine, yes, him sometimes) make him watch say. nothing that happens in them ever transpires to real life; beautiful girls don’t fall in love with their nerdy best friends and guys like peter parker don’t get the girl.

it’s fun to fantasize, though. and especially fun to look at you, particularly when you’re laying on his bed, oblivious to him standing in the doorway, observing as you twist your neck to get a good look at the polaroids he hung up on his wall. a familiar smile grows on your face when your eyes scan them, flickering to the polaroid camera you got him for christmas years ago.

you move to try to get a better look at them without standing up, glancing down when you feel a sharp edge poke at your skin. he watches as your eyebrows furrow in possibly the prettiest way possible and you pull out a polaroid from under you. and oh, peter is just now realizing exactly what that photo is and why it’s on his bed instead of hanging off the empty miniature clothespin that comes from the pack you thrust at his chest when you noticed the increasing pile of pictures on his desk.

he’s moving on autopilot towards you, the foot already halfway through the door used as a stepping stone to go to your side faster. he’s with you in less than three steps, tugging on your ankle and then tackling you as sensibly as possible, laying his whole body on yours. you oof, dropping the picture, having seen it for too little to really question it, and laugh breathlessly. “pete!” you wheeze, curling your arms around his back, one of your hands absentmindedly drawing figures through his hoodie and your other one inching up to his hair, already beginning to thread through the chocolate curls. “yes?” he hums innocently, furtively grabbing the polaroid you dropped and shoving it in the pocket of his hoodie before his arms wrap around your thighs.

“i told you if you keep doing that, one day you’re gonna get hurt,” you scold, looking attentively as peter leans his head against your chest. “me?” he questions, feeling you nod under his cheek. “uh huh, you. you’ll hit your head or something. for a spider-”

“spiderman. superhero,” peter corrects, you ignore him, “you are really clumsy.” peter huffs in dissent, letting a comfortable silence blanket over the both of you for a minute before he looks up at you. “what?” you ask, a smile brimming at the edges of your words. you’re so pretty, peter wants to say, but instead, he goes with a more best-friend-friendly question, “d’you wanna watch a movie?”

you nod at him, pulling your hands away from his head to play with the strings of his hoodie, “sure, what do we want to watch today?” peter’s eyes immediately light up, and you realize you never actually needed to ask. “fine,” you agree, trying not to grin too hard at the way his face brightens. “which one?” you request, watching his freckled cheeks flush pink in excitement, “sixth one. the best one, of course.” you smirk, shrugging, “right, don’t know why i asked, i basically know the movie word for word now.” peter can’t help but give you heart eyes at the knowledge of your knowing the script of his favorite movie. god, you really were the dream girl.

“‘kay, go make some popcorn and get everything ready while i go to the bathroom,” you request, tapping peter’s shoulder as a way to tell peter to let you out from under his body weight. he does the complete opposite of what you imply, however, nuzzling further into your chest and inhaling deeply. “peter,” you laugh, poking his shoulder again, “‘m comfy,” he mumbles, eyes closed. “pete, c’mon, i gotta pee and you’re lying on my bladder,” you whine, “also, don’t you wanna watch episode six of star wars while i eat popcorn and play with your hair?” you singsong. he’s suddenly moving his body off of yours to let you go, although not before pressing a sloppy- friendly- kiss to your arm, “hurry up.”

you giggle as you stand, stretching out your limbs and walking to the bathroom while peter watches you walk away. once he hears the bathroom door shut, he digs his hands into his pockets, fingers tugging on the polaroid he had shoved inside. a smile grows on his face without his permission when he holds it at his stomach, the light reflecting off of the smile that was printed on the picture. he traces a nail over your face, bright and open in the way that makes you gleam. it’s his favorite picture ever, the only one that managed to catch you so in your element, your natural halo of glow apparent in your outline. peter had scrawled the words best girl in red marker on the white space at the bottom- something he thought he could explain away easily if he had to. the picture had its own designated space on his wall, right in the middle so the importance was clear, but it was rarely actually up there, instead always next to him for inspiration when he was doing homework and on his dresser for when he couldn't sleep.

his lips quirk one last time at the photograph before walking to the wall where all the rest of them reside. he hangs it up, glancing at it once more until he turns to walk out of his room.

the movie is ready to play when you walk into the living room, and peter is in the kitchen making your popcorn. “it smells good,” you say in a greeting, sniffing the air and exhaling in satisfaction. peter laughs, “you do that every time we have a movie night.” you tilt your head at him, “do what?” he motions to you, “that. the whole smelling thing and letting me know how good it smells, it’s cute.”

your face heats when it slips out of his lips, pausing to absorb the words he doesn’t seem to have noticed he said. his back is to you, dumping the popcorn into a bowl for you. you can’t see it, but he’s freaking out, trying to think of an excuse if you decide it was too weird. you don’t do anything to imply that, though, just blink until the words dissolve in the air. “thanks,” you finally reply, as nonchalant as you can make it while you grab his m&ms. he hums in response, turning around to head to the couch, “star wars time,” he winks, making you grin.

you follow him as he heads to the couch, settling down next to him once he puts on the movie. the star wars theme starts, the tune fringed by peter’s humming. cute, you think, snuggling deeper into the crook of his arm and shoving popcorn into your mouth. “hmm, good,” you compliment, watching the scenes you’d seen so many times pass on the screens. you mouth along when you recognize the lines until your eyes feel heavy and they shut completely.

quiet thwips wake you up hours later, when the black of the night has bled the sky blue and the stars have littered over the clouds, the moon replacing the sun. you see that the movie is long over when you blink yourself awake, beginning to cuddle deeper into your pillow when you realize it’s too warm and hard to be a pillow. you are met with the vision of your best friend, lip tugged in between his teeth as he concentrates on something behind you. he doesn’t seem to notice that you’re awake, trying to remain as still as possibly while the thwip noises continue. he mutters a curse, scrunching his nose adorably before flicking his eyes to you. they widen when he notices you’re awake, dropping his hand. “what’re you doing?” you yawn, sitting up and away from the warmth of peter’s embrace. “uh- i just- the movie ended and you didn’t wake up, so i tried to get the remote, then i got hungry…” he scratches the back of his head awkwardly, scanning the room and you turn to observe, stunned to see the mess of webs and dropped items you weren’t sure how you didn’t hear. “oh my god, what the- did you try to get everything with your webs?” you ask in bewilderment, eyeing a bag of gummy worms open and on the floor, you snap your neck towards him to observe his burning cheeks. “um. yes,” he confesses, blushing harder. “why didn’t you just get up?” you question, looking back at the ruined living room, exhaling in surprise as you notice the remote on the ground.

“you... you fell asleep on me. i couldn’t move.”

you pause, tilting your head slightly to look at peter, “pete, god, that’s so sweet. but you really don’t need to…” you motion to the dropped items, “do all that,” you laugh. peter shrugs, and you notice the tips of his ears are red, too. “i didn’t want to wake you up. i know how much of a light sleeper you are.”

you feel like you’re melting, every single muscle in your body drooping in the loveliness that was peter parker. you weren’t sure how the boy was real. you suddenly drop yourself on him again, wrapping your arms around his burning neck, “thank you, peter,” you say into his skin. like a reflex, his own arms go around your waist, holding you securely so you won’t fall, “‘f course.”

a moment of quiet follows until peter’s stomach rumbles suddenly, making you laugh, “i think i’ve starved you long enough. you pick today. also, when did you get so ripped? your arms are so big--” peter cuts you off with a groan, dropping his head on your shoulder, “you had to ruin the moment--”

peter doesn’t know what it is with you (actually, he does) that makes you so distracting. you’re just waiting in line for lunch, standing next to mj and laughing occasionally when she says something. all you’re doing is standing, and maybe it’s peter’s boy-hormones combined with his spider-hormones that magnify every single perfect feature of yours, but he can’t take his eyes off of you. you’re so pretty. the curve of the smiles that pulls into your cheeks, the twinkle that remains permanent in the color of your eyes, the way you look in that skirt--

“maybe if you stop staring at her and actually talk to her, you might have a chance,” a voice points out from next to him. peter scoffs, ripping his sight away from you to turn to ned. “i talk to her all the time. she’s my best friend.” ned shakes his head and sighs, “you talk to her about star wars, you talk to me about star wars, how is that supposed to help you have a chance--”

“i have a chance,” peter mumbles, trying to believe it himself, “she knows that she and you stand at different levels of best friends--” ned looks offended, “different levels? what is that supposed to mean--” peter stares exasperatedly at his best friend, “it means i want to date her and i don’t want to date you--”

“that’s a little rude--”

“hey you guys,” you greet, sitting down on the seat in front of peter’s and patting the seat next to you for mj. she stares at you silently, and you frown, patting the seat harder, “sit.” you instruct. she sighs and does what she’s told. “what were you guys talking about?” you ask, picking up your small plate of cherry pie to replace the bowl of orange slices that you took from peter’s plate. “thank you,” peter mumbles, digging his fork into the pie the moment you set it down. you hum, stealing a cherry tomato from his salad.

“oh, you know. the usual, your friendship with peter,” the latter shoots him a look and you raise an eyebrow, “that’s the usual? a little strange, don’t you think?” ned shrugs, “did you know that you and i stand at ‘different levels’ as peter’s best friends?” peter nearly chokes on his pie, glaring at ned. you cock your head at peter, thinking as you steal another tomato, “i… guess i thought so? i’ve known peter since, like, preschool, and we tell each other everything.”

“everything, huh?” ned wonders, a sound of pain falling from his lips when peter kicks him under the table. “peter.” he hisses. mj narrows her eyes at the two boys, “what is going on with you guys today? you’re acting weirder than normal.” peter’s face screws up in confusion, looking to you for help. you shrug, “she’s right.”

“i usually am,” mj mutters.

“so what is it?” you query, popping an orange slice as peter cringes at the mere thought of the taste. “peter has a crush,” ned informs helpfully, oblivious to peter’s dismay, “i- i don’t-”

you blink, feeling mj’s elbow shove into your ribs as her own way to make sure you’re okay. you ignore her, and it tells her everything she needs to know. “it’s liz, right?” you guess, trying to mask the hurt on your face with a teasing smile, “i saw you looking at her the other day. she’s pretty.” “no! it’s not- i mean, yes, liz is pretty, but i don’t like her or anything- ned doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” peter rambles. “pete, you don’t have to be embarrassed, i’m just upset you didn’t tell me,” you lie. peter’s eyebrows furrow, “you’re just upset that… i didn’t tell you?” he repeats. you nod, biting into another orange slice. “just that?” he asks meekly. you cock your head at him.

“i just- never mind. it’s not liz,” he says, poking at his pie. “so you admit you have a crush?” you start with a fake smirk, jabbing at your best friend with your fork, “just not on liz?”

“i didn’t… i didn’t say that-” peter stutters. your eyes narrow at him, lip tugged between your teeth, “i’m gonna find out who it is by the end of the day.”

peter is unfortunately sure you will. he’s not subtle as is, but you’re never deliberately looking for the signs, which makes it a lot easier to hide his embarrassingly large crush on you. but now, you'll be paying attention to his every move, and knowing you, he knows you won’t stop until you find out what you want, unless he tells you to back off. but, does he want you to back off?

he pushes his tray away, suddenly not feeling so hungry.

you stay true to your promise, hanging off his arm for the rest of the day, observing the way he acts around some of your classmates, but somehow not noticing the way he blatantly refuses to look at you- which proves humiliatingly difficult; peter never realized exactly how much he turned to look if you laughed at the joke too, or to catch one of your smiles when you hear something funny or peter whispers a joke into the shell of your ear.

by the end of the day when you’re walking to the train station together, you’re groaning at him, putting your full weight on his arm as you tug at him. “who is it? is it betty? oh my god, is it mj? is that why you kept looking at her?” you ask excitedly. peter wants to tell you the truth: he wasn’t looking at mj, he was looking at you, because as much as he tried, he couldn’t pry his attention off of you, who just so happened to sit next to mj.

“not mj. not betty,” he replies, pulling you inside the subway and scanning for free seats. you trail behind him when he finds a spot, letting you take it as he stands in front of you. “not them… it has to be liz, right?” you pry, sighing when he shakes his head. “brad- it’s brad, right?” you grin, whining when he denies it again. “can you just tell me if i got them already? i’ve practically said everyone in the school,” you complain, “they do go to school with us, right?” at peter’s nod, you drop your head against his abdomen, “and you have not said their name yet.”

“peter,” you drag out, reaching out for his hand to pull it, “just tell me! i can probably set you up with them!”

“y/n, just drop it,” he sighs, and you sigh too, mumbling a fine before noticing an older lady standing at the door. you wave her over, standing next to peter and letting her take your seat. peter feels like his heart will pop out of his chest.

the bumps of the subway push you close enough to him to feel the thundering of his heart, and your eyebrows knit together in worry, “are you okay? your heart’s beating, like, really fast-” yeah and your hand on my chest is not helping- “‘m fine.”

“is it because of the crush thing?” yes, “because i’m sorry about annoying you about it so much, if you don’t want to talk about it, i won’t bother you with it. just know that if they don’t like you back, they’re insane, because you, peter parker, are a ca-”

it was like a rubber band snapping, and peter suddenly couldn’t help it anymore, pushing his lips against yours, effectively cutting you off and catching you so off-guard, you freeze for a second before reacting, pulling his jaw closer. you almost tug him back when he pulls away, before you remember you’re still standing on a crowded, moving subway, and while kissing your best friend had been all you wanted for way too long, you were absolutely going to miss your stop if you didn’t stop.

“i- i’m sorry, i just-” peter stammered, stepping back. “no! so, please don’t apologize, seriously, it’s fine, it’s, like, better than fine.”

a beat of awkward silence passed before the tube halted to the stop right before yours. “it’s you. in case that didn’t… come clear. you’re the person i like,” peter informs quietly. “really?” you ask, cheek already pulling in a shy smile. “really,” peter assures.

this time, you don’t really care if you miss your stop, and neither does peter, now that he knows that, sometimes, peter parker does get the girl.

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