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aeyumicore · 1 month

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misty invasion - lost oasis

━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: sylus x female reader (afab)

━ ✧.˖ GENRE: smut, porn with some/little plot, porn with feelings, angst

━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 4.5k

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, spoilers AND alterations to ‘lost oasis’ (sylus’s misty invasion card), slight predator and prey, dom!sylus for the most part (though he shows vulnerability), use of Y/N, sub!reader but she teases doe, unprotected sex, cumming in coochie, against the wall sex, shower sex, hand play/kink, belly bulge, finger sucking, fingering, biting, slight angst, lots of hickeys (m! And f!receiving), allusions and predictions to sylus’s lore

━ ✧.˖ A/N: hiii second part of the misty invasion series is here <3 this time our very own birb – sylus! Next will be Xavier but I don't have a timeline for it! Could be 3 days could be a week :’) will try and keep you guys updated

Small Sylus rant, feel free to skip this and read the fic!

I have huge problems with the hypersexualization of Sylus, from the devs not from fans. I feel like the devs sometimes use him as fan service. I felt that was especially true in this card, the shower scene felt out of place and didn’t feel intimate because they’ve done far too little mc/sylus building and sylus lore. I wished the ending scene in the hammock was the cut scene, even if there was no spice. For that reason, I’ve SLIGHTLY altered the dialogue and memory, especially at the end. I added in some of my own angst, heavily influenced by predictions to Sylus’s lore I’ve seen on Twitter, especially the twitter art i linked above.

Don’t get me wrong I love Sylus. I just wish we got to see MORE of his lore and backstory, because you just KNOW it's tragic. His myth cards were nothing like the other 3 boys, and I feel like they have a lot of opportunities to help Sylus “catch up” to the other 3 LIs (could’ve done a event similar to Rafayel’s bday event, waited until they could release more main story, etc), but they haven’t utilized it well. I’m sure there’s a reason why (rushed timeline, leak threats. End of the day I understand it’s a business), but as a reader/user/fan it kinda sucks. And again, I KNOW it’s coming and it will be great. But because we haven’t seen enough yet, it makes his spicy scenes seem less intimate and more fan service-y. So I wanted to add just a sprinkle of Sylus angst and story here <3 It made me cry, I hope you guys love it as much as I loved writing it.

THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.

✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ .

There are moments in life where it really hits you.

That you’re in danger.

Where your hair stands up on its ends and your legs itch with the need to bolt away. This felt like one of those moments. The way Sylus’s voice, throaty and deep, growled with evident hunger, his eyes watching you like a predator eyeing its prey.

Only…this time, the goosebumps that painted your skin were from excitement, and the throbbing in your thighs was from desire and not fear. This time, the tight grip on your thighs, the imposing body against yours, holding you so possessively, only leaves you wanting more.

Sylus’s arm is pushed against the wall behind your head, caging you in with his hard soapy body. His skin shines with water and the leftover suds of his shower, before the water had run out, leaving you with a wet and mischievous Sylus.

Your fingers languidly follow soapy suds that trail down his chest, not really actually wiping anything away. Sylus remains self-assured, smirking down at your shaking body as you touch him. You can feel goosebumps form where you touch him and it’s the only indication that the silver-haired man is close to losing it.

His voice comes out deep and breathy, “Aren’t you going to do something about my hair?”

His smile is maddening, taunting you to touch him more. So you wrap your hands behind his shoulders, yanking him down to you.

For a brief second, Sylus is taken aback, his lips parting with a surprised breath. But as quickly as it had come, Sylus composes himself. He lets himself be pulled to you, chuckling breathily.

“Is that it, sweetheart?”

Before you can respond, his arm releases the wall behind you. In an instant, his large hand is gripping the underside of your thighs, hoisting you up with one arm so that both your legs dangle off his strong arm, pressed against his hip.

You yelp at the feeling of his large hands holding you against his wet and hard body, “What are you doing?! My clothes!” You can feel your deep red satin nightdress soaking up the sudsy water on his skin.

Sylus only laughs, sarcastic and deep, “Oh no. They’re wet. Now what?”

You try to push him away, “Well you need to let me down first.”

But Sylus doesn’t budge, shifting you so he can lean his free arm against the wall behind you, caging you in once more. Like a lost bird.

“Doesn’t this mean you also need to learn how to humble yourself?” His cerise eyes are frustratingly playful, his eyebrows crinkled in amusement.

You don’t respond, instead trailing your hand down his bare chest again. Your feather-like touch ghosts his collarbone, down to his thick pecs, that tremble deliciously under your fingers. From the strain of holding you up with one arm, or your touch alone, you’re unsure.

You speak softly, trying to tease him into losing control, “I did, and this is what I see…”

Your touch and suggestive words have Sylus breathing heavier. His pants come out raspily, sounding vaguely close to a moan. He nearly shivers at your touch, so absolutely enamored by the way your fingers claim him, barely able to withstand his primal urges to claim you.

His reaction fuels you with confidence, and you grin cheekily, “Oh? I guess I’ll have to be more gentle.” You let your hands explore more, stroking his down his marbled chest.

Sylus grunts, his face turning away from you, contorted in tortured pleasure. His breath comes out in rapid desperate gasps. It’s so utterly rare for you to see Sylus in such a needy state, and you can’t help but tease him further.

Your fingers touch his neck, enjoying the way Sylus is crumbling under your fingertips when normally it’s you coming undone for him, “How cute.”

When your fingernail grazes his nipple, Sylus tenses up, a growl ripping from his throat.

He turns to you, squirming under your fleeting touch. “Hey,” he croaks. His voice is uncharacteristically hoarse, tense with desire.

“The soundproofing for this shower isn’t great. People might get the wrong idea if they hear us. At this rate, we could end up in a lose-lose situation.”

But you continue, pinching his ear softly, grinning, “Tell me, who pinned you down and hit you?”

Sylus’s smile falters. He knows you’re referring to the little boy from earlier, whom you’d been teaching how to fight against Wanderers, but he can’t help but think about the first time he’d been here at the desert oasis. Only that time, he was powerless. That time, he couldn’t protect you.

He quickly masks his brief moment of melancholy, smirking at you once more, “Oh, so class isn’t over yet.” You want to prod at his sudden shift in demeanor, but you can tell now's not the time. You made a mental note to ask him about it later.

Sylus holds your wrist gently, bringing your fist to his lips. His mouth pressing fleeting kisses to your knuckles, “Then can I trouble you some more…Miss?” He doesn’t wait for you to answer, hoisting you back up onto his forearm, forcing you to wrap your arms around the back of his neck for balance. He carries you in one arm to the bathroom door, before he falters, hearing the patter of footsteps outside.

“On second thought, I’ll take my lesson in here.” He walks you back to the shower, shifting your legs so that they wrap around his hips. Your back is pressed against the wet wall, Sylus’s strong arms holding you in place.

“What should you do…if a wanderer has you pinned down like this?” His voice is sultry and suggestive, darkened eyes daring you to teach him.

You lift your chin proudly at his taunting challenge. Your fingers trace inexplicable shapes into his chest, your nails gently and purposefully grazing his nipples. At his sharp inhale you make your next move.

“I would…go for the neck, since that’s where they’re most vulnerable.”

Sylus’s adam’s apple bobs with the anticipation of your double-edged words, “Is that so, little bird?”

You nod with confidence, “Let me show you…” You kiss up his collarbone until you read his pulsing neck, brushing chaste kisses along his jugular. Sylus’s chest heaves, and you smile against his neck in satisfaction.

“I can’t imagine this would be…effective against wanderers,” Sylus masks the unsteadiness of his wavering voice with a layer of arrogant amusement.

Sylus’s chest heaves, and you smile against his neck in satisfaction. Enjoying having the upperhand, “No…just you.” You softly sink your teeth into the thick muscles of his neck.

Sylus lets out a string of harsh expletives, slamming you further into the wall, his grip on the underside of your thighs digging in harshly. You shiver at the feeling of the cold wet wall tiles pressing into your satin nightdress.

Sylus lets you have your way a little while longer, enjoying the way your rapid heartbeat pounds against his wet chest, your tongue lapping circles where your teeth had sunken in. His hands shift to grope your rear under your crimson red nightdress, squeezing the plush skin there as if you were his personal stress ball. His demanding fingers find their way to your bare pussy, spreading them apart with his index finger and thumb.

“What a bold hunter you are…taunting the enemy with no…protection.”

His words are vaguely threatening and it makes you squirm. As his fingers toy with you, you sink your teeth deeper into him to hide your pathetically lewd whimpers. Sylus hisses at your teeth nearly breaking skin, a mix of pain and pleasure he is all-too familiar with.

“You’d better watch yourself, my little hunter,” Sylus coos in your ear, fingers finding your clit and pressing down harshly, “You never know what a beast stranded in the desert might do to you.”

His words remind you of the reason he’d invited you out to this desert oasis to begin with, the woman who’d found him, and why he was returning now. Before you can ask him, Sylus is bullying his index finger into you, sliding in so embarrassingly effortlessly.

“What now, little dove? What would you do now?” Sylus nips at the crook of your neck, where your shoulder and throat meet. His words are hot and dangerous at the shell of your ear, his finger curling inside you to reach the spongy corners of your g-spot.

You force your words out with all the strength you have, not wanting to give Sylus the satisfaction of rendering you speechless, “I w-would never – nnghh – be in this s-situation.”

Sylus chuckles, inserting another finger, “And yet…here you are. About to be devoured.”

The imminent threat in his words makes you clench, hard. How it was possible for the tables to turn this quickly, you’d never understand. Sylus grins when he feels your gummy walls pressing down on just two of his fingers, the quivers typically indicative of how close you are.

He pushes you harder into the wall, lips finding your earlobes as he huffs out his words, “Look at you, my dear little hunter. So beautiful when you’re helpless.”

You whine indignantly at his condescending words, wanting to retaliate. With his lips at your ear, his neck is exposed before you and you take full advantage of his vulnerability. You sink your teeth back into his pulsing neck, knowing just how much pressure is enough to have him writhing for you.

Sylus jolts, his fingers slipping out of you and his knee buckling slightly. His grip on your thighs tightening as he hisses out in surprise. He composes himself just as quickly, straightening up and bouncing you up to readjust his possessive grip on you.

He pushes you back against the wall, his hard abdomen pressing into your pussy. You groan when you feel your wet lips spreading against his chiseled muscles, his body pressing so forcefully into yours, your arousal smearing against him.

His thumb and index finger take your chin into his grip, still wet with your slick, pulling your face towards his. His arrogant grin is as alluring as it is infuriating, his ruby eyes swirling with a dark amusement.

“No more mercy, little bird.”

Sylus presses his lips to yours, his fingers tightening around your chin. His kiss is demanding, nearly suffocating, in a way that makes you reel with excitement and anticipation. It’s so torrid and feverish that you almost don’t notice his Evol unraveling your arms from around his neck, bringing them to his chest. He holds you steady with his one arm, and with the other he releases your chin, taking the two of your wrists into his single free hand. His hands are so large that even just one of his hands can envelope both your wrists.

As his tongue probes the parting of your lips, he holds your wrists, bringing them up above your head and pinning them against the wall. His fingers play with your trembling ones, tracing the lines in your palm and grazing all the way up to your fingertips.

You feel a brief shuffle and hear the faint thud of Sylus’s towel dropping to the floor, the scorching head of his cock prodding at your entrance. You gasp into his mouth when you feel him taking the base of his erection, stroking it against your clit. You screw your eyes shut at the deliriously delicious friction, moaning into Sylus’s mouth, his tongue claiming every corner of yours.

Sylus pulls away, his breath coming out in short rapid gasps. He leans his forehead against yours, his fingers still enclosing yours, binding your wrists together against the cold shower wall. His proximity makes it so his warm breath fans across your swollen lips, the taste of him still on your tongue.

He looks down at you, his crimson eyes smoldering against the heat he’s so desperately trying to keep at bay for you. If it were up to him, he’d have you splayed across his lap, screaming until the whole small town in the oasis could hear you. Unfortunately, pressed up against the wall whimpering for more would have to do.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?”

You stare at him, arms restrained above your head, chest heaving in anticipation, lips swollen and parted. Sylus smiles at you. It’s that signature Sylus smirk, heart-stoppingly tender and predatory all at once. But when his glowing cerise eyes meet yours, that’s what has your breath catching in your throat.

The tumultuous sea of red conveyed every ounce of emotion that his words couldn’t. What it meant to have you here in the desert with him, a place that once reminded him of hell. What it meant to have you here, wrapped up in his embrace, ready to do anything to make him happy, whole. With you here, it truly did feel like an oasis.

So you murmur boldly, cheeks warming, “M’yours, Sy. Of course I’m ready.”

Sylus’s smile falters for a second, before he growls, slamming you back into the wall, palm cupping the back of your head with one hand, and your lower back with the other, to protect you against the impact.

“That’s my girl.”

With those words, his swollen cock head at your entrance finally surges forward, nudging its way into your tight embrace. You cry out as Sylus curses, the both of you never getting used to how impossibly snug the fit was, almost to the point of not fitting at all.

Sylus takes it surprisingly slow, watching your face carefully as he sinks into you inch by inch. His hand strokes your cheek, in an overwhelming show of tender affection. Something about this desert oasis had him unusually vulnerable and it was intoxicating.

You squirm as he bottoms out, his cockhead nestled sinfully against your cervix, practically demanding entrance into your womb. His fist is pressed into the tiled wall behind your head, his knuckles white with desperation. His entire body twitches, his breath coming out in short desperate pants. You hold his face with your hands, forcing him to level with you, stroking his sharp jaw with your fingertips.

“Sylus?”

His carmine eyes dart to yours, the vast storm of his irises looking faraway and distant. But when he looks at you, his eyes soften, the sight of you grounding him to the moment, pulling him away from the agony he once endured here.

You kiss his furrowed eyebrow, “I’m here, Sy.”

Sylus groans, his facial features softening at your touch, your raw words making him heave with desire.

“You are. And you’re mine,” he growls, finally moving inside you, pulling out until just his leaking tip is nestled in your warm waiting cunt. Giving you just a second to adjust, your pussy pulsing with the need to be filled once more, he slams back into you. The impact of his thrust knocks the air from your lungs, your body sliding up the wet walls of the shower.

“Sylus!” you squeal, trying to control your voice. Sylus grunts, reveling in the sound of your pleasure, pulling out of you and rutting back into your poor quivering cunt at a rabid vigor.

Your bodies are pressed so tightly together, that every minute movement Sylus makes causes your clit to brush against the trail of silver hair that paints his pelvis. His hot breath is in your ear, whispering the filthiest things to you.

“You like it rough, don’t you sweetheart?” he nips your neck, savoring the taste of your clean showered skin against his insistent tongue. Your bare shoulders are already littered in his claiming marks, beautiful red bruises forming where his lips raze like wildfire. Sylus’s eyes glimmer with satisfaction at the sight of it.

“C-can’t take it,” you whine, fingernails digging into his shoulders. His passionate thrusts are demanding, almost mean, as they try to pull moan after moan out from your lips. Your pussy quivers, already shivering from the amount of pleasure Sylus is able to force on you, so much that it spills over.

“Yes you can, hm?”

He hisses when your nails dig further into his skin, leaving beautiful little red crescents on his muscled shoulders. Sylus always thought it was utterly insane how you knew just how much pain to mix with his pleasure to have him unhinged, just enough to want to devour you.

You find your wrists being bound above your head again, his hand pushing them against the wall. His forehead pushes against yours as his lips desperately seek yours, capturing you in a breathtaking and fiery kiss of unspoken feelings. A torrid storm of the way he’d missed you desperately on his trip away, so much so that he had to use the little boy wanting to learn to fight wanderers as an excuse to fly you out to him.

He pulls away, leaving you both panting for air. As he continues his feverish ruts into you, he huffs into your ear, “You can take it. You’re my good little dove, right?”

The look of complete and utter desperation in his eyes makes you want to give into every wish and whim of the silver-haired man before you. So you nod obediently, closing your eyes in satisfaction when his fingers rub soothing circling into your palms. It’s a jarring contrast, the way his hand caresses you affectionately while his cock ravages you relentlessly. It makes you delirious with ecstasy, and your body is no different.

Your cunt throbs with the need to come undone, the coil tightening so tightly that your abdomen threatens to burst. From the pleasure of his touch or from his massive cock seemingly trying to find its way into your throat, you’re unsure.

“S-so deep,” you cry, digging your nails into his hand as it holds yours in place. Your back slides up the wall at every one of his deliberate pointed thrusts, a mere ragdoll to his ravenous hunger against the cold dripping wall.

Sylus, groans. You feel a slight shift in energy, and Sylus moving beneath you. But your position against the wall doesn’t change. Sylus’s Evol gently grips your thighs, keeping you suspended as his arm that held you up is now free to press down on your tummy.

“I know, doll. Can you feel me all the way here?” he draws his words out seductively, pressing down on where your walls bulge against your pulsing naval.

You squeal at the overstimulation of him physically pressing your cunt down onto his cock that still spears in and out of you wildly. Sylus removes his hand to press it against your lips, his index and middle fingers slipping into your lips that are still parted mid-scream.

His digits press down on your tongue, faintly tasting like his expensive body wash, “Shhh, Y/N. We wouldn’t want anyone to hear, hm?”

You whine. Truth be told, the imminent danger behind his words only gets you more and more excited, closer to the edge. His forceful fingers toying with your tongue only fueled your filthy desires more, and your body reacts just as eagerly.

Sylus bits the inside of his cheek, swearing as your tight walls convulse tightly onto him. Your pussy unknowingly constricts the thick throbbing veins that press of his erection, pressed snugly into your sweetest spots.

“Ah, my sweet girl is so filthy. Did you like that? Like the idea of someone watching me fuck you dumb?”

His condescending words have you shaking your head, still hanging on to your slim shred of dignity. Sylus chuckles, nuzzling into your neck.

“You can’t lie to me, little bird. I can feel the truth.”

“F-feels s-ooo good,” you admit, throwing all embarrassment to the wind. Sylus swears at how adorably muffled your words are against his fingers, how your eyes are hooded with pleasure as they watch him dreamily. The adoration in your stare was so palpable, hearts nearly reflected in your eyes. His knees buckle as he admires your beautiful face, so angelically fucked out that it ruined him.

Sylus shifts you into his single arm once more. He could easily keep you secured in the air with his Evol for hours yet, but at this moment he wants nothing more than to be as close to you as possible. He wraps one of your arms around his neck, intertwining his fingers with your other hand.

“Hold on tight, my love,” he rasps against your collar, bringing your intertwined fingers above your hand and against the wall for leverage. His thrusts take on an unprecedented intensity, the globes of your ass slapping against the wall in loud, filthy, and wet paps. His vigor makes it easy for him to hammer into your g-spot at every thrust, having you reaching the summit of your orgasm all too quickly.

“Sy-Sylus! I-I’m so close,” you wail, fingers desperately clutching his, other hand digging into the back of his neck.

Sylus is close too, weeks of pent up emotion and need brimming to the point of boiling over. The only thing keeping him sane is the grip he has on your hand.

“Need to cum in you,” he hisses, driving into you harder as he nears his peak, “Need to breed you so full of my cum, hm?”

You nod eagerly at his filthy words, clutching onto him for dear life, “I’m c-cum—“

Sylus cuts you off, smashing his lips into yours. It must’ve been a sight to behold, the way Sylus had you locked in a passionate kiss, his hand holding yours above your head, his body pushing you up against the wall, pelvis wet from your arousal as his silver hair brushes repeatedly against your clit.

It was all enough to have you finally releasing all over his defined abdomen. You squirt against his stomach, eyes squeezing shut as his tongue claims your very breath. Your climax is powerful, mind-numbing, and utterly explosive.

Sylus huffs in pleasure as he feels your dripping thighs slapping against him, his own orgasm imminent. Your cunt continues to throb in the afterglow of your climax, wringing tightly against his violent ruts.

Finally, he climaxes inside you, moaning wildly into your mouth as he continues to devour you, thrusting through the intense waves of pleasure. His abdomen trembles, involuntary quivers wracking his body as rope after rope of his thick seed pours into you.

His lips pull away and he leans his forehead against yours, his entire body still quivering with waves of the intense overstimulation. His chest heaves violently with the pounding of his rapid heartbeat, his fingers still tied to yours, tracing gentle shapes in your tingling skin.

Sylus chuckles, the sound gentle and warm and the vibrations reverberating onto your own body as he clings to you still.

His eyes glimmer with amusement, his fingers capturing your chin again and pulling it downward to where your bodies remain connected. His voice is tender and mischievous, “It’s just like you to make such a mess when you’ve already used up all the water.”

You blush furiously when met with the image of your bodies, fit against each other together like puzzle pieces, glimmering with a wet sheen that was definitely not water. Your red satin nightdress had ridden up, the lace embroidering of the hem soaked. The argent dusting of hair on Sylus’s pelvis was matted in both your arousals. It was an absolutely sinful sight.

“P-put me down!” you hiss, tapping his chest, “We have to find a way to clean this up.”

Sylus raises his eyebrow at you, “Sweetheart, the only thing keeping the mess inside is my co–”

Your hands come together to cover his mouth, “Don’t say another word.”

Sylus chuckles into your hand, his breath warm and tickling You feel a sharp, but gentle, nip.

“Hey! Don’t bite m–OW!”

—--

The night air is brisk, sounds of ancient handbells ringing out softly as the dark sky twinkles with distant stars. A nearby bonfire rages, the sound of crackling of wood mixing with the distant chime of bells. And yet, it’s Sylus’s large body holding yours that keeps you warm against the gentle night breeze of the desert.

The hammock the two of you cuddle in swings lazily, Sylus’s fingers languidly stroking your hair as he tells you myths of the Gods and humans that once resided in this very valley.

“What about your world? What was your life like as a kid?”

Sylus is still as his body cradles your own, his fingers crushing the blossoms that had fallen into his palm. He hesitates for a second before saying, “Nothing special. I struggled to survive.”

Your heart clenches painfully at his words. His voice is nonchalant, yet something about his words is melancholic. Eerily wistful.

“I never imagined that one day, we’d be sitting in a place like this. Having discussions about the world,” you whisper.

You look up to catch Sylus staring at you. For a brief second, you catch the emotions in his eyes. They’re desperate, pleading with yours. For what, you’re unsure. He quickly blinks, the cerise orbs returning to their natural state.

“Do you think we’re talking about the same world?” His voice is unbearably gentle, his words confusingly cryptic, as if edged with a double meaning that you can’t quite grasp.

“I’m not sure,” you confess softly.

There’s a brief moment of silence. You continue, “Today is when people give flowers to each other in Linkon, but…” Your voice trails off. You gently dust off the fallen petals that’d landed on his shoulder, hand reaching to brush over his heart as you pick up a branch of the delicate flowers off his abdomen..

“Could those flowers bloom in this kind of soil?” You ponder aloud, holding the cluster of fallen and wilting blossoms, so different from the vibrant and thriving ones you’re familiar with in Linkon.

You glance up at Sylus again. The shadows of the palm trees above you obscure one side of his face, the other half haloed by the soft glow of the moonlight. He looks threateningly ethereal. The pools of carmine in his eyes glow as they search yours. Like earlier, they glimmer with inexplicable emotions that seem to plead with yours. Begging you for…something.

But he doesn’t speak, instead taking the cluster of wilted blossoms from your fingers. He twirls them in his fingertips, inspecting them carefully. He strokes the browning petals, a strange look of nostalgia flickering across his face.

You don’t understand, but you reach out for his hand, squeezing his fingers in yours. He squeezes you back, still looking mournfully at the flowers in his fingertips, almost as if remembering a painful memory.

Finally, Sylus turns to you. His smile is devastatingly beautiful and tragic all at once, his finger moving to tuck the loose strands of hair behind your ear. His piercing red eyes bore straight into your soul, the faint luminosity of his Aether core beating behind them.

“I’ve seen far more beautiful flowers bloom in this desert.”

.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.

✧.˖ i do not permit translations or reposts of my work on tumblr, ao3, or others. please do not reuse my blogpost headers, dividers, or layouts. these are original designs of my own.

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mygnolia · 14 days

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to weave my love ⭒ n. riki

⭒ SYNOPSIS -› Riki is good at many things- dancing, making fun of his friends, playing it cool (debatable.), Hell- he’s even good at saving people from falling buildings without getting whiplash. But the things he’s bad at? Well, it’s asking you out to prom, and trying to balance the shared assignment he has with you…while being Spider-man.

⭒ PAIR -› spiderman!nishimura riki x fem-pres!reader

⭒ GENRE -› fluff, banter, action ⭒ TROPES -› classmates to lovers, idiots to lovers ⭒ WC -› 17k (i’m sorry idk why either.)

⭒ INCLUDES -› SPOILERS FOR GREAT GATSBY, cursing, non-graphic injuries (reader discretion advised), yes i made the patching up with first aid kit trope SUE ME!! takes place in a busy city similar to new york never specified, reader is rich, jake and heeseung are seniors and riki’s a junior, is riki stupid? yes… jake reveals stuff because he is also a little silly, reader wears a red dress!

⭒ GREAT GATSBY -› basically jay gatsby has this weird amt of money but no one rlly knows how he got it (nefarious reasons) and hes been in love with this girl daisy for five years but then she got married to tom buchanan but he gets rich so he can get the house across from her and wistfully watch her and he pines after her like CRAZY but he dies at the end

⭒ REN SAYS...special huge fat kiss to thena @sensitively-taken you will be in the will when im a millionaire THANK YOU for helping me with so much of this I WUV U AND I WLL BE WAITING FOR UR HUENING FIC!!! | LIBRARY

NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE FROM PRE-ADULTHOOD STRESS, IF THAT’S EVEN A THING.

What exactly does Riki have to worry about as a seventeen-year-old junior in high school? Right now, his most daunting responsibility is catching up on the chapters of The Great Gatsby because the only thing Riki’s actually read from the novel is that the main character shares a name with his best friend and senior, Park Jay. His second most daunting responsibility is handling the fact that with the new seating chart in his Literature class, it means he’s sitting next to the object of his very subtle affections, you.

See, the problem with having a crush on you is that Nishimura Riki’s committed to thinking that you’re way out of his league, and unfortunately, the boy believes that almost too well. Not only are you minted beyond his wildest dreams (having seen your posts on social media), but you’re hardworking, helpful, and dedicated to your role as student body treasurer. He’s already understood that you’d never go for a guy like him. Maybe someone more like Park Sunghoon, whose parents’ salary matches yours. If Riki lived in a rural estate with generational wealth, handling the whole ‘Spider-Man’ thing might be a bit easier for him, considering he wouldn’t have to try so hard in school. It might even change the fact that Riki dealt with some alleyway criminals last night and is currently catching up on lost sleep, as your English Literature teacher goes on and on about a project on the book you’re reading.

In class, and even sometimes outside of the classroom, your small tendency to not pay attention to your surroundings has landed you in some awkward situations—like now.

“I don’t really tell anyone this, but I hate Daisy.” And instead of getting a response, you glance over to see Nishimura Riki slumped on the desk. Without trying to make preconceptions about what could land him in a situation like this, you poke his arm, stifling a smile at how his eyes widen when you’ve caught him rubbing the very obvious sleep from his eye.

“Sorry,” he whispers, still fighting the post-nap grogginess, “Did I miss anything?”

(Nope.)

Shaking your head, you return your attention to your teacher as he continues to answer questions. The second Mr. Yoo assigned a report, you wanted to die even more considering the work you had to do on top of the impending due dates. But for it to be partnered? And for you to get seated and paired with the one boy who's known for not caring about school? Maybe things are a little stacked against you, but there has to be a reason why Riki’s somehow still passing all his classes…right?

Considering it’s the last assignment about the book, you’re glad that you already read it so many times to know what you want to put into words. And in retrospect, answering a few open-ended questions about it can’t be that hard—the hardest part would be getting your partner to stay awake in class.

A small tap at your side makes you turn to face Riki, who you see has frantically written a page full of notes about the project in the past three minutes and how he can succeed. “Can you go over the first part? Sorry…I was…y’know.”

“It’s a partner project. And we’re partners.” You wince at the awkward wording.

Great! Riki was caught sleeping and that was your first impression of him for your paired assignment? Riki feels so stupid in front of you right now—in front of your meticulous notes with annotations and proper highlighting. He wants to curl up into a ball when he sees you glance over at his haphazard attempt to look like he was paying attention when, in truth, he was trying to remember the dream he had just ten minutes prior. When you offer him a small smile and nod, leaning over with your notebook in hand, he sighs in relief, thanking whoever it was that let him get away with his naps without the consequence of irritating you afterwards.

The bell rings when Mr. Yoo stops talking, and you pause, startled by the sound. Instead of leaving, however, you pack your bag and shuffle to his side of his desk, continuing to parrot details about your report in hopes that it all makes sense. You need to make sure he knows what he’s doing.

“I think one of the questions he mentioned was like ‘Is Gatsby a good person?’ and do you remember how in Chapter Eight…” The rest gets zoned out and forgotten in the boy’s head, because he in fact does not know what happened in Chapter Eight. He doesn’t know what happened…in any part of the book. But he agrees anyway, pretending like he understands what scene you’re trying to explain. What he notices is how thorough and dedicated you are towards ensuring he comprehends what you’re explaining, and although it could be because you don’t want him to fail you both, he chooses to believe you’re doing it because you tolerate him.

You’re so engrossed in covering all the little details and telling him random tidbits regarding the book that you don’t realize your feet have made it all the way to the cafeteria. “But here, let me get your number. I’ll totally explain more over text.”

Riki is definitely not freaking out when he silently grabs his phone and hands it to you with the contact page, staring a little longer than necessary at the cute smiley face you added to your name. “Thanks,” he mumbles, forcibly tearing his eyes away from the ten digits of your number, “For helping me with this, too.”

“Of course! The Great Gatsby is a fun read for me. A little hard to read sometimes because of some of the characters, but still easy to understand.” And Nishimura RIki realizes that he has to do well. He’ll read the book five times over if it means gaining your approval.

Jake notices something a little different about the tuft of black and blonde hair when his friend walks in. The first thing is that he’s actually here, and that you’re next to him, smiling. The boy rubs his eye to make sure he’s not dreaming somehow, but when he looks up again, you’re waving goodbye and joining your friends across the room.

“Did you get hit with something while fighting a villain that makes you more bold? I feel like I just saw you and ____ talking,” Jake starts when Riki finally joins him with his lunch.

Riki laughs, shoving Jake’s head out of embarrassment and opening his chips. “It’s just school. Got some project in English and she says we’re partnered.” He looks over at his friend chuckling, rolling his eyes at how Jake pokes at his side and wiggles his eyebrows.

“I better hear you two are dating by next week.”

“Who’s dating by next week?” Heeseung places his bag of food in front of them and takes a seat, opening the fast food he got last period and stuffing a fry in his mouth.

“Riki and ____. Let me have one,” Jake answers, reaching inside the bag.

Heeseung looks over at his junior curiously. “You asked her out?” And the two older students hear a groan from the boy in question.

“Me and ____ aren’t anything, for your information.” He prods at the vegetables on his tray and takes a bite before a look of displeasure washes over his face. “You’re both way too excited for two guys who do not have girlfriends.”

“Hey! You know the girl I’m always fighting with is the reason why I’m single. I have to focus on studying to do well in school to do better than her.” Heeseung’s whining falls on deaf ears as Riki smiles victoriously, seeing how defensive the former got.

Jake offers him a shrug of defeat. “I got nothing.”

The three of them fall into normal conversation and Riki finally explains everything that happened during English. “So you’re telling me your plan to ask ____ out went down from 18 months to 6?” And with a nod from the younger, they both groan once more. Heeseung exclaims, “We’re both going to graduate, dumbass. Make the plan go down to like…two months? Please?”

Jake cuts in before Riki has a chance to respond. “Make it one and a half, so we can see you with a prom date before leaving forever.”

“You act as if you’re going to die after graduation. It’s like you’re begging to be a super senior.”

And they’re silenced immediately.

“Do you think the guy I was with earlier hates me?” you ask on the other side of the room. Minjeong stares at you blankly, waiting for your explanation. “I don’t know if you saw when I walked in but I was talking to this really tall guy with blonde hair and black tips. He seemed really out of it, like he kept staring at me and nodding. I think I scared him off by talking about the book too much.”

Sunghoon, who is also listening in, opens his neatly packed lunchbox and begins mixing his noodles. “I think you did scare him off, ____.”

“Not helping,” Minjeong interjects, “Just talk to him more and maybe he’ll warm up to you. You two sit together in class anyways, so hopefully he’ll talk more?”

“I know him,” Sunghoon comments, “Well, sort of. I’m friends with Jake who’s friends with Riki, and it seems like all that boy does is sleep.”

“Maybe he’s really good at subconscious in-class comprehension?” you try, taking a bite of your sandwich. “I just hope it doesn’t interfere too much with treasurer stuff.”

NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE IF HE SWINGS INTO ANOTHER WALL AT 100MPH LIKE HOW HE ALMOST DID TONIGHT.

All he’s had on his mind since school ended till now is how he should probably text you, if he really discarded the slimy acid monster from last week properly, and when the prom theme is going to be released, but there’s something amiss that confuses his spidey-senses and makes Riki much more alert.

He snaps out of whatever train of thought he had before, focusing on the situation at hand and looking around to follow his instinct. Riki cautiously plants himself on the side of a random apartment building to get a sense of what's going on. A tingle of some sort of in the air permeates the material of his suit and leaves him shivering from the cold.

He doesn't like it one bit.

Moving to the side of the building to the top, the boy finally catches a glimpse of something when he gets a decent view of the city and highway systems. Riki knows something’s wrong with the bridge the closer he gets. He zips from one side of the tall, metal tower to the other, crawling down on all fours making sure he isn’t caught. He feels the electric feeling once more, only amplified. It runs up his spine and he wants to slap it, almost like a frantic, summertime bug. The air around him is charged with something he has never recognized before. With a puzzled expression under his mask, Riki continues to investigate the surrounding area.

Riki finds a lone figure with some sort of attachment to his left arm, like a long glove made out of metal. The bulkiness of it seems to have no impact on his body as the man fiddles with the contraption, and the boy watches with bated breath as the machine fizzes and spurts with electricity. It begins to glow as power concentrates on his plated palm and the superhero sees it for the first time. It’s like a fizz, like a match striking at fire only to produce a quick burst of friction, but it almost feels liquid when he watches the person play with the flickering blue ball of electricity. It dances in the dark in a hauntingly beautiful way, with bolts jutting out from the metal as it spurts and buzzes with a life-like manner.

A spark.

“Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” The sound of Riki’s voice from the end of the bridge causes the stranger to look up with wide eyes. Although Riki fully expects it to simply enhance strength or block damage, the immediate strike of blue that flies straight towards him is anything but defensive. With a yelp, he jumps away, this time refusing to show himself.

What the hell was that?

He knows he should go back down there to change things and get the person and the metal pieces away before it escalates, but when he goes back down to watch, it's ten times worse. The bright blue illuminates the scarred face of the villain as he’s picked up the metal arm–but this time, it’s no longer clunky and sparking, but fused into his arm.

Riki’s face pales at the sudden change before his body acts on its own and he shoots out a web to stop the man.

The villain is shocked by the intrusion, but quickly yanks free from the webbing and flicks another bolt of electricity, one that flies much faster now that the metal flows into the arm instead of simply resting on the skin. It’s unlike something Riki has ever seen, something that is so controlled in motion and yet so erratic in nature, and it instills a deathly fear when it grazes his arm he hisses in pain. The sharp feeling springs Riki into action as he jumps away. He’s lucky another bolt isn’t sent his way, seeing how the villain’s too busy marveling at the power of his new gadget.

“You know that fucking hurts, right?” He yells out, cupping his wound. “Maybe leave the gadgets to the kids!”

The man scoffs. “It better have hurt. I sacrificed half my body for this to work.”

“But why?” All Riki wants is answers. Some sort of explanation.

The man charges up yet another bolt, almost like a laser gun is built into the machine. “Less talking, more running, Spiderman.”

That scared the shit out of him.

The boy doesn’t have time to think as he jumps out from the dark tunnel to the bridge and up the metal towers—he hates having to fight with people right below. The villain follows in pursuit, almost crumbling the metal with his engineered arm as he hoists himself quickly. Riki continues to jump between the structure to avoid the flashes, trying to get out and apprehend the man as quickly as possible. When he reaches the top, however, he feels death is near as he glances down at the villain below who’s quickly gaining on him. He shoots out webs to slow him temporarily, letting himself fall and swing from the side of the tower to escape.

What he doesn’t see on the way across the bridge is the flash that misses his cheek and hits his thigh instead. It burns, and mid-air, Riki gives the wound a quick assessment before he lands on the metal, immediately forcing his body to climb. While dealing with his wound, he fails to notice the villain swinging from the bridge support lines to meet him.

He needs to end this fast before he becomes burnt toast.

Riki doesn’t often rely on instinct to carry him, but he can tell that the villain he’s facing isn’t just a criminal.

“Land another hit, would you?” he tries to say, his voice strained from the pain in his arm and leg. It doesn’t do much to deter the man in front of him as the arm continues to destroy and bend the metal on the way up. “What are you going to do now, Sparky?”

The man says nothing, charging energy into his metal glove again before aiming and focusing on the target: him.

Riki jumps off, not able to properly land his web in the right spot as he goes from one section of the bridge to the other. The man behind him looks enraged at the boy’s attempt to escape—so much so that he reaches out with his normal hand to try to grasp the suit when Spider-Man swings past him. Instead of the feeling of fabric, the villain feels sticky spider fluid on his fingers. Riki shoots out a web, one that curls around the villain’s wrist and drags him off the tower. Instead of being able to launch him into the surrounding waters, the man slips from the poorly shot-out webs and falls from mid air into the sea of frantic cars, including one semi truck that collides directly with his arm. In the air, the boy winces when he hears honks and shouts from the impact, hoping it’s the last time he’ll have to witness it.

With his gaze trained on the falling figure, the weakly attached web breaks, and Riki all of a sudden starts falling down as well. He curls up defensively before bracing for impact, curling into himself when he feels the metal dent and the truck driver scream from outside of the parked vehicle, the body of the villain right in front of it.

Riki staggers, holding onto his arm and thigh the best he can before getting up. With wobbly steps and a small jump, he lands near the unconscious man, whose metal arm is cracked and fizzling—something that Riki knows is bound to leave more scars.

“Call the police. I’ll get rid of the pieces.” Although Riki wants to figure out who the criminal is and make sure he’s properly apprehended, the gashes in the boy's limbs leave him winded and exhausted. With hot metal scraps bound together by webbing in his hands, Riki swings out and dumps it somewhere rural, trying his best to cover the pieces with the pounding headache that

Riki revisits the secluded spot under the bridge, looking for clues to the man’s identity, and his expression falls when he notices a lanyard dangling near a trash can.

His name, his position, and the company. FLiGHT Corp. The company name caught the boy’s eye, and he pockets the item before leaving.

It seemed like he was a normal research scientist, but Riki’s recollection of the scars and tattered skin leaves him retracting his last thought. He heard something about the failure of a time travel machine at FLiGHT, and if the mass of the incident was anything to go by, he was in the center of it.

No matter how many times Riki tries to get it out of his head, on the way home, all he can think about is the inexperience he displayed and the lack of response he gave Riki during the whole time. But Riki can’t bring himself to really take away someone’s life—and maybe for that, he’s a horrible superhero.

He knows he should stop the man before it's too late, and especially with how many self-proclaimed villains there have been, it's not easy to see so many innocent people ruin their lives chasing a power that inevitably consumes them. He knows it’ll only get worse if he lets them run free.

And while the superhero has never been fully honest with himself, there are many times where Riki hates his role as Spider-Man, and wishes that he was just some teenage boy who didn't have the lives of others in his palm. He wishes he didn't have to sacrifice so much to stay behind a mask—and he wonders deep down if there’s anyone else who felt the same.

His swings lead him across the city above hundreds of lives he has to protect, and he tries to find some semblance of peace. He thinks about how he has his homework due despite having just risked his life, he thinks about how your project is going—and about you.

In the night under the stars, Nishimura Riki wishes for something just a bit normal. He wishes a good night for himself, but also for you, wherever you could be.

NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE FROM TRYING TO READ THIS BOOK IN ONE NIGHT.

The Great Gatsby is exactly like how you described it; a little hard to get through but fun with the plot’s eccentric characters. He’s pretty sure he could’ve just used a detailed SparkNotes explanation for the book, but having a crush can make someone do weird things. And in Nishimura Riki’s case, his infatuation has got him reading a novel about morally-skewed characters and rich society to impress you.

When you come into class barely on time, Riki gives you a confused look when you sit down, but doesn’t comment on it any further. Instead, he takes out his book and tries to act like his eyes weren’t closing shut from exhaustion by the time Daisy was finally confessing how she loved Gatsby.

The moment Mr. Yoo stops talking, however, Riki isn’t asleep—much to your surprise. He has his book out, pages filled with sticky notes and a whole section of his notebook dedicated to characters (written in bright red to keep him awake) and their traits.

“I got it.” It’s the first thing he says when you two are left to do in-class work. It’s ominous, and maybe a little too enthusiastic in a high school literature class for a boy who doesn’t even care that much for school, but you’ll accept it with open arms if it means you get a helping hand on your project.

“Continue,” you tell him slowly, leaning back in your chair to listen to him. And you don’t know why, but a small part of you thinks that the boy who sleeps every period the book was discussed wouldn’t have much to say or contribute to such an open-ended prompt, but life is full of surprises.

What you fail to notice is how Riki is nervous and his stomach does at least twenty flips before he swallows dryly and starts rambling in hopes to impress you and redeem himself from his embarrassing slumber a few days ago.

“So you know how our prompt is based on one character and basically all their actions?” he asks, and you nod, absentmindedly thumbing a sheet in your journal. “I’m thinking we should talk about Jay Gatsby because so much is revealed to us about him that we might as well use it to our advantage. Y’know, talking about how the theme of exploitation and secrets is veiled under Gatsby’s desire for Daisy.”

“You don’t think Gatsby’s a good character?” Riki wants to tell you that Gatsby is more relatable than good or bad, but he shakes his head.

“I mean, not really.” He feels like with those four words, he’s completely changed the trajectory of his relationship with you from a positive slope to completely downhill—and a wave of panic washes over him. “Should I? I mean, I could see him as more redeemable if you gave me examp-“

You wave your hand to quell his worries. “To be honest, I don’t like him either. But he’s an interesting main character to write about, so I think we should go with your idea.”

To win your approval feels like he’s won at least three fights against a villain in a row without getting any bad injuries—it feels good. And for the rest of the period, you are able to finish a detailed outline of your work for the next few weeks, mapping out sections for each other, and he even gets to see a part of prom planning on a word document you had open. He considers your shared productivity a win when he packs up and bids you goodbye before leaving for lunch.

One wave doesn’t catch Riki’s attention from across the room. Not even two, or three calls of his name could get Nishimura Riki out of his thoughts, and Jake frowns before moving up in the lunch line.

“Something’s caught your eye again.” Jake feigns innocence and sighs dramatically as he places the food down next to Riki’s plate. “Could it possibly be our school treasurer?” Jake laughs, leaning over to catch a glimpse of what’s got his friend so entranced and non-responsive.

Riki scrunches his nose, annoyed, but never breaking his gaze from where you’re sitting. “We talked in class–like, a lot,” is all he says, paying his friend no mind. “She’s genuinely so understanding.”

“God, I don’t think you can be any more down bad for her than you are right now.” Jake picks at his food, and despite his concentration directed towards the olives on his pizza, he’s able to dodge the flying loaded nacho that goes his way, even if he wasn’t the one with superpowers.

“Can you shut up?” Riki grumbles, laying his head on his arms as he notices you smile and point to something. “I just got pummeled into a semi truck last week. Let me have this before I die tomorrow.”

“Very grim,” his friend notes, ruffling the younger’s hair, “I think this is exactly what all of those mental health assemblies that we get are for.” And Riki basically tunes him out, too tired to fight and too used to the teasing remarks to come up with anything useful in response.

Riki sits up a bit, letting his head rest on his propped elbow as he looks at the school food and touches another nacho gingerly. “Y’know, I read the book for English so she wouldn’t think I’m an idiot.”

His friend snickers, successfully pulling out yet another sliced olive from the cheese, much to the disgust of Riki. “She probably already thinks you’re an idiot.”

The superhero debates throwing another cheesy nacho in Jake's face, before deciding to eat it instead. “Don’t say that asshole! You make it seem like I have no chance with her.”

Jake shoots him an exasperated look that makes Riki break eye contact. “That’s because you don’t.”

“I’ll prove to her that I’m worth her time.” Riki says somewhat wistfully, still stealing glances from a few tables away. “Maybe I’ll ask her out to prom, show up in my suit. Do that cheesy upside down kiss shit people say Spiderman does.” When his friend raises an eyebrow at him, Riki shrugs. “I will! Well-maybe not the Spider-Man thing, but prom definitely.”

Jake continues to look at him unconvinced as he takes a bite out of a slice of pizza with mangled cheese. “You barely talk to her in class and you think you can ask her out to prom as Nishimura Riki?” And the younger grins, eyes still stuck on how your eyes crinkle and how your shoulders shake with laughter.

“Yup.” And his fate is sealed, just like that.

“What’s your project about, anyways? Didn’t you tell me last night that she gave you her number? Must be pretty serious if she wants to text you.” Riki furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head.

“It’s just tying the theme of the book to one character and writing about how they show it. So we did the theme of money and Gatsby, because it’s easy and mentioned so many times.”

Jake gawks. “You must really like her,”

“I was planning to read it regardless of who I was partnered with.”

“Okay- that’s debatable.” There goes another one of Riki’s nachos.

“Gross.”

He thinks things are going pretty well for you two. The report is being written and your quotes are basically finding themselves, so Riki should give himself a pat on the back for pitching the initial idea for how to go about your assignment. Maybe reading the whole book offered him a few useful pointers, and he goes to sleep that night satisfied with your progress. Maybe Heeseung and Jake were right—maybe he could finally ask you out by prom.

NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE TRYING TO SAVE THE CITY FROM YET ANOTHER MONSTER TERRORIZING THE STREETS.

He wakes up the next morning, not expecting his alarm to alert his senses to danger. It rings in his head and makes him feel delirious, trying to shake sleep off as he looks out the window for any visible sign of what's wrong. If he could hear the danger in his head then that meant someone could be hurt, and he could go to school without a few hours of sleep if he worked fast enough, right?

Riki slips into his suit without much thought and goes to crack his window open, only to look back at his clock and read the horrific time of 6:23AM.

Who the hell picks a fight with a teenager at this ungodly time?

Then, he shoots from his wrists, once, twice, and suddenly, he's off, covering more ground through the air in just three seconds than he ever could while walking or running for minutes on end.

The source of his tingling spidey-sense is some large metal centipede creature that was setting off car alarms in a neighborhood near the market. Thankfully, no one was really awake to be caught in the crossfire, but he has to figure out how the hell he's going to catch that thing in...he checks his watch…twenty minutes?

Hopefully, his instinct will help him win this time—again.

The web he shoots out does nothing to stop the monster, and considering how it connected them both, the threads only drag the superhero to the edge of the building he was initially watching from. With some yelling and pulling, he finally detaches, and realizes that the odd sizzling feeling in his bonds must be from the same source as a few days ago; Spark.

He had this gut feeling that a villain as strong as him wouldn’t have been destroyed so easily, but his wounds were so deep and the blood loss so bad from a few nights ago that he couldn’t have truly dumped him in the ocean without fainting or suffering something permanent, and although Riki hoped things in the universe would work itself out, the presence of the giant fifty foot insect alone is proof that things were not in his favor.

He jumps off the building onto another, working quickly as he strings up a few webs between the houses as a wall for the monster, watching it slide and knock over cars in its wild pursuit. The monster spends a few seconds breaking down the wall of webbing and climbing over it, the many legs easily breaking through. As the superhero jumps across buildings and keeps track of the centipede’s movement, he has no idea why it isn’t going for him, and that makes his job much harder without the attention of the monster. One glance at the direction the centipede is headed in sets off another ding in Riki’s head—but this time, it finally clicks why the centipede is headed away from the boy.

It’s attracted to the power plant.

Riki immediately jumps and swings off of a lamp post, using the momentum of gravity and the force of his swing to propel him faster than the slithering creature. Squinting, he holds out his fist and points his pointer and pinky out, following the movement of the centipede as he aims.

Bam.

He sends clusters of silky white threads down precisely at the first pair of legs to pin it down. The webs stop the creature momentarily, and Riki doesn’t have time to watch how the body shrinks up and fizzes out with blue shocks as it tries to wiggle loose and malfunctions. This fight would be over soon, and the boy smiles when he jumps down to shoot more webs to apprehend the centipede. It wiggles and sends electricity out through parts of its body, trying to pry itself out. He expects it to simply be a robot of sorts following a mission considering its avoidant behavior, but as he approaches the tail, the monster suddenly swings at Riki, and its mass and speed is incomparable to the boy’s reaction speed.

Riki lands into a tree and someone’s garage, feeling the crumbling wall falling all over him and the sudden pain blooming in his lower back.

This fight will, in fact, not be over soon.

With his superhuman abilities, Riki grabs onto the metal of the car beside him to hoist himself up, coughing from the dust, and jumping over the rubble to see how quickly the centipede creature can get out, without regard for his current state. The sound and rumble of the giant monster is all he needs to know that the traps are effective, but not at the previous capacity.

The plan is simple: apprehend the legs and crush the head, where Riki assumes the decision-making and programming is taking place. But the monster’s angry and erratic actions throw a wrench in his plan. Its legs move faster, digging into the cement and leaving ruin in its wake as it continues down the road. While both the villain and superhero are fast, the distance between the power plant is finite—and only grows smaller and smaller.

Although Riki can feel the bruises coming, he runs and swings, hearing the wind in his ears as he catches up to the centipede in no time. He tries the same tactics again–aim, shoot, stick, all the while keeping his distance. Although the monster’s body spans incredibly long, and should carry an immense amount of weight, the way it snaps at Riki’s flying body and sends shockwaves through his core leaves him shivering as his body slams into the ground, coughing. It hurts all over, and it feels like there’s weight on his eyes when he tries to open them and get up. His head is spinning as he staggers onto his knees, clutching his chest as he watches the centipede shrivel and crackle.

It seems like the voltage produced is a double-ended sword, one that burns up the centipede body as much as it deals damage, and with the way the mutant creeps towards the electricity of the plant, Riki gets the feeling there’s a magnetic pull that forces the mutant to continue to crawl even against its instinct to stop.

Despite his waning strength, however, Riki knows better than to half finish the job like last time. He creates a net from experience, weaving together the thickest and most durable threads to trap the entirety of the slowly approaching creature. It seems to crawl slowly up the makeshift barrier, knocking its head against the white and spreading the bright blue waves of its energy throughout. The boy watches as the thin white mass absorbs all of it and clings to the creature. It works, finally, after his attempts to nullify its movements, and he knows that despite the ache in his every step, the almost mummified centipede that hangs between several roofs for all the neighbors to gawk at is his sure sign of victory.

All he remembers is hearing a familiar call of his hero name before his legs give out and his head hits Jake’s chest.

Holy fucking shit is the first thing Riki thinks when he wakes up.

He’s not out of his tattered suit and he feels grimy all over, but his body has done wonders in reducing the otherwise fatal injuries he got. No human body should be able to withstand two energy-filled blasts, but his suit and superhuman healing are of greater help than ever in alleviating the damage from his wounds.

He knows why he’s in his bed with bandages thrown over his open wounds. He knows that every time something like this happens, it’s Jake who shoos away the concerned civilians, telling them he’s a medic. Jake is not a medic—rather, he’s a seventeen year-old boy who knows about his friend’s double life and with all the times he’s saved Riki, someone might as well dub him the greatest medic of all time.

The clock on his bedside table has only served as a bearer of bad news. He looks over to see how it’s practically midday, and he’s missed yet another day of school from fighting crime. He’s in no condition to get up or get his bag, seeing how his hair is frizzy and his cheek has a cut that would warrant questioning. It seems only fair that he stays absent, and before he falls back asleep, he only prays you aren’t too mad at him for leaving the seat next to you empty.

But you aren’t mad, just worried. The soreness in his muscles doesn’t go away though, and he groans when he sits up in his bed, with bandages around his arms and an ice pack discarded next to him.

He’s most definitely not coming to school like this.

While you bore holes into the clock hanging off the wall, that doesn’t speed up the time. Two minutes pass, then another minute. As your classmates find their partners and begin discussing, you notice how the room gets louder with the due date looming near. It’s the first time you’re alone without the familiar boy beside you, and something hangs low in your chest when you put in a pair of earphones and open your laptop.

Riki’s absence should have no effect on you. After all, you’re both just high school students who’ve talked once or twice, and yet you still look over at the empty chair. Staring doesn’t make Riki appear, though, and you return to your edits. It feels empty without his insight, or without him asking you to help him with a passage. Riki was your solution to all things boring. If he wasn’t doing his work, then you two were laughing at something on his phone. And if you agreed to both do something other than the report, then you could ask for an extra opinion when deciding prom details. There was something freeing about working with him that attracted you. Riki knew how to lighten the mood on days that weren’t so good for you, but he also worked hard and let loose at the same time. There was a perfect balance in Riki’s life that you aspired to have; it was a good mix of playful, dedicated, and fun all in the same vein.

The words blend together on your screen. Jay Gatsby this, Tom Buchanan that, it all looks monotonous the more you keep trying to read and comprehend what exactly you’re talking about.

Before class is dismissed, Mr. Yoo steps to the front of the classroom to gather everyone’s attention. He introduces your new novel for the next month, explaining yet another large assignment associated with the text.

Truth be told, you don’t pay attention to any of it.

The only thing you remember to do is to grab extra copies of the printed graphic organizers, as you get out of your seat and rush out when class ends in pursuit of one specific boy.

“Sim Jaeyun!” The call of his name diverts Jake’s attention from his phone to your waving arm as you weave through the students and finally reach him.

“You can just call me Jake,” he explains, “what’s up?”

You begin to reach into your backpack, trying to feel for your folder, and pull out a few sheets. “These are for Riki.”

Jake cheers internally for his friend who’s busy recovering at home. “What, you got a crush on him or something?”

He tries to play it cool by teasing you, but the smile you bite back leaves the boy questioning if there really is anything going on. Jake knows better than to tell you anything about Riki’s feelings, and opts to instead grab the papers and to thank you for looking out for his friend.

“Is Riki okay?” You have to know, just to make sure he’ll be here tomorrow to cure your boredom.

What Jake says is much different than the nonchalant wave and half grin he gives you. “He’s just bedridden.”

“That’s pretty serious! Did he come down with anything?” He seemed fine yesterday, so what’s the catch?

He blurts, “He just got badly hurt.”

Immediately, Jake knows he’s fucked up.

Your confusion and silence answers him far more than words ever could–he basically hears the gears turning slowly in your head.

Jake weakly defends, “His parents had a fight with him because he hit his head or something. He’ll be fine by tomorrow. Just bedridden from sadness, y’know?”

The look you give him is unconvinced, but when Heeseung pats him on the shoulder and waves to you, the boy realizes that maybe staying quiet would’ve been the better decision.

“I’ll see you later, ____.” And he’s off, waving half-heartedly and dragging a very confused Heeseung out of the cafeteria.

NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE TRYING TO WAKE YOU UP AS GENTLY AS HE CAN.

Ever since March started and flowers began to bloom, your energy seemed to do the opposite, dwindling until Riki catches you mirroring his frequent in-class action: sleeping. And it worries him beyond belief, because you’re not the type to fall asleep like… ever. However, Riki does not have the heart to wake you up, even if it’s with a little nudge that you probably barely feel with how light he taps. It breaks his heart to have to ask you to review what he has done, because the bell is about to ring and the teacher might just send you to detention if he catches you off-task.

The allergies always make Mr. Yoo irritable, and Riki knows not to get on his nerves.

Your eyes flutter open to the pokes and prodding from none other than Nishimura Riki, who gazes at you softly when you adjust to the bright classroom setting once more.

Panic settles in. “Wait- how long was I sleeping for?”

He shrugs and scrunches his nose, not giving you an answer as he finishes scribbling something in his notebook.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” Your hand squeezes into a fist at the frustration that you’ve let your partner down.

And yet, Riki seems to be unfazed, frowning when he sees you stressing out. “Don’t ever sweat the little things, yeah? If there’s anything you ever need to talk about–trust me, I know what it’s like to have a lot of pressure on your shoulders.”

Smiling at him, you respond with, “Thank you, really.”

Being treasurer is daunting in the spring. It’s full of requests, forms, and small tasks that leave you spent by the end of the day. “But,” you glance at the clock to see just how much time is left, “how’d you know?”

He motions to your open computer with a now dark screen. “I saw your document pulled up. ____’s tasks or else she will be kicked out of student government,” he taunts, snickering when your eyes grow wide with embarrassment and you lightly nudge his shin with your foot in warning.

“It’s not polite to snoop,” and although you say that, you catch something in your peripheral vision. It’s a few drawings of a figure and gadget drawn, shaded from rigid shapes with small descriptions pointing to different places. You weren’t sure what was more surprising; how good the drawings were, or the subject of his imagination.

Weird. Inherently, there was nothing wrong with Riki drawing a villain, and you chalked it up to him being creative. Nothing more, nothing less.

He puts his hands up in surrender at your last comment, his grin showing anything but. Just one look at the boy makes you realize that everything you’ve just thought about is foolish.

There’s no way he’d have time to be a villain and a student. With one final thought, you let your raging thoughts rest and focus on the present; him. You’ve seen his hair messy, especially after his naps, but when Riki tries to style it like how he did today, you pay more attention to the streaks of blonde and how he often hides behind his bangs and scrunches his nose. It’s cute. He’s cute.

The truth is, you enjoy being around him like this, joking around and never worrying too much about your responsibilities and expectations. It’s refreshing. Being around Riki gives you the feeling that things will be okay in the end.

You snap out of your thoughts to see that his desk is empty, while your’s hasn’t changed one bit.

“You’re going to sell prom tickets now, right?” He makes small talk before leaving for lunch, closing the notebook you were suspiciously eying before slipping it into his bag.

“Yup,” you answer, popping the ‘p,’ “I’ll see you later,” and you two part ways.

All the long lines and constant distribution of change doesn’t allow much wiggle room for you to daydream. As time goes on, the ticket-selling line grows smaller and smaller, but the only thing you truly care about is eating the lunch your parents packed you. Your sandwich is probably sad and soggy now that there are only a few minutes of lunch left. When you finally sign off one last time after triple checking the forms are all correct, you let out a sigh, leaning back and finally getting a break.

Then, it hits you that you’re not even sure if the boy you’re fawning over is attending the biggest event of the year, and you feel stupid for forgetting to ask.

Yesterday was a rookie’s mistake–today, you’d make sure you get an answer from him.

“Are you going to prom, Riki?” is the first thing you ask when he sits down, grabbing his book and laptop with a little too much enthusiasm.

“I’m thinking about it.” Yeah, whatever confidence he had when convincing himself he’d ask you out isn’t serving him well at this moment. Quite frankly, Riki feels lame as ever trying to be nonchalant around you. “You?”

“I’d have to set up, so I would be there, yes. But whether or not I have a date is another story.” You smile to lighten the mood, but Riki watches you and nods, focusing back on signing into his laptop and getting his notes for the new book you’re reading.

“Well, you’re not the only single one here.” And he wants to reprimand himself for saying something without thinking. “If someone asked, would you say yes?”

You think about it carefully, really because you don’t have anyone in mind when it comes to prom if Riki’s not planning on going. “It’d have to be someone I know—someone I talk to somewhat regularly. I’d be nice to be with someone who doesn’t make it awkward.”

Nishimura Riki might die from over-thinking if he keeps on wondering whether or not he fits that description to a tee.

RIKI'S TO-DO LIST BEFORE PROM

☐ talk to ____ regularly

☐ don't make it awkward

☐ be..cute?

The boy decides that his superhuman responsibilities might be easier to complete than any of those three things.

He switches the subject to stop his head from hurting too much. “Did you finish the report?”

You still, and Riki’s question reminds you of the report looming over your head. In your defense, you two hadn’t brought it up much in the past week, and he didn’t seem to worry over how much of your time was spent emailing teachers or making spreadsheets. Although caught off guard, you’re quick to respond with, “What did we have to finish? I thought we were done since last week, but if there’s anything else-”

“Sorry,” he rushes out, biting his lip, “I meant, if you finished reading it.” And the answer is no, you haven’t read it since your last edit on it three days ago.

Within a few clicks, you find the document and scroll to the bottom, seeing the small note that Riki left that said ‘let me know how it looks.’ It’s sweet to know he thought about your input as much as you did his.

“While some can agree that Gatsby’s rise into high society was sketchy, Gatsby still retains the same reserved character from years ago, and doesn’t manipulate others into success or use his money for nefarious purposes. It’s not like he changed after his wealth, and it could be argued Gatsby loved Daisy until his last breath and was willing to die as long as she was happy, emphasizing the theme of sacrifice.

So, is Jay Gatsby a good person? The question targets the morality of a character who many can empathize with. Those who are charmed by his overwhelming love for Daisy would say that he’s committed textbook crimes, but focus more on the intent behind it. To pine after someone from a distance isn’t easy, but to pursue her after years of separation is even harder. It’s universally agreed, however, that love as a driving force doesn’t nullify what he’s done to others and the dirty schemes he’s enacted to gain the power he has. Therefore, Gatsby makes for an interesting main character, and highlights just how twisted a system around money can be.”

The last page is–for the most part–his writing, and your admiration for him grows when you finish reading and scroll to hit your Works Cited page.

“It’s good,” you tell him wholeheartedly, “Didn’t think you had it in you.”

Riki cracks a smile at your light teasing, soaking up your praise.

“Now you know.” He shrugs. And he can only hope that you like him as much as you like his literary skills.

NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE WHEN HE COMES TO THE REALIZATION THAT HE IS EXACTLY LIKE JAY GATSBY,JUST WITHOUT THE MONEY—DESPERATE FOR THE GIRL OF HIS DREAMS, DYING YOUNG, AND A FRAUD HIDING BEHIND SECRETS.

Nevermind the last one, he has to hide when he has an identity to protect as the city’s only superhero, but Riki feels his heart sink to his heels when he read a few weeks ago how much Gatsby simply adores Daisy. When Gatsby died, he scoffed, closing the book with a sudden disinterest. If he were the male lead, he wouldn’t have been laying in a pool for target practice. Maybe being a superhero teaches you how to avoid being easy bait for all your enemies, or maybe Gatsby was too carried away with love to think straight.

Fighting crime gives you insurmountable experience with sneaking around, but it wasn’t something he could just teach to anyone. When he gets this horrible gut feeling that something’s happened to you, he just knew something was wrong. He might not be easy to catch, but for anyone else? Definitely.

For everyone else, prom was a month away, but for you, it was three weeks of talking to your advisor and president, arguing with your other board members, and sitting behind that damn money box for another five days to sell tickets. For you, it was realizing that you were supposed to buy streamers and balloons yesterday on your way home from school. It was the thinly veiled disappointment in your board member��s texts when they told you they were at a loss for words. ‘I’m sorry, and I know you’re busy, but how could you forget? Prom is so important for all of us. What if they don’t have what you need anymore?’ It all repeated in your head as you bit your lip in frustration and slipped on the first pair of shoes you could find. Although it was dark and dangerous, you could care less if it meant avoiding the passive aggressive comments you’d get tomorrow during your meeting.

There it is again: that little tendency to not pay attention to your surroundings.

You yelp when you feel someone grabbing your wrist and pulling you in, muffling your screams as he pulls you along. To see him on the news was worrying, but to see Spark in person with your life on the line is even worse.

Tears spring to your eyes as you struggle against the metal to no avail, and you curse every previous moment you spent worrying about balloons rather than your safety.

Spark suddenly stops, shoving you against the wall before his hand grabs a brick with his metal arm, beginning to climb. “Don’t let go.” And you don’t think twice before holding on.

The city view would be beautiful if you weren’t hearing your heartbeat in your ears or if you weren’t dangling from the railing of some company building, trying to wiggle yourself free of the rope around your wrists.

Spark speaks up, drumming his fingers on the railing next to you. “You wouldn’t happen to know where your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man is, would you?” And you furrow your eyebrows, genuinely questioning for a moment if he really knew how the superhero operated.

A voice from across the street puts a temporary hold on your thoughts, and you glance up to see a flash of blue and red soaring through the air, followed by a groan and a beam of light next to you. Seeing Spark’s powers right in front of you spurs you into action, yanking at the rope and trying to take tiny steps away from where they were fighting.

“From what I’m seeing, you wanted to hold someone hostage because you’re not feeling too good, huh?” Spider-Man shouts as he shoots out webs and blocks hits. You shake your head in partial disbelief of how unserious he is, but also how unbelievable all of this seems. “You tried to take a potion or something? I’m going to tell you this now, but these usually don’t work.”

Riki’s assumption is right, and considering how Spark now has a leg and arm from metal instead of just the arm, the procedure for the additional limb couldn’t have been easy. The superhero still proceeds with caution, making sure to pay attention to anything new as he dodges and fights back.

The villain immediately gets back up, stumbling for a moment before he regains his stance and runs towards the boy. You hear the clanging of fist hitting metal from their fight, and considering the difference in height and build, you’d expect Spider-Man to be easily flung to the side, but he holds his weight in battle.

Riki aims for around the left shoulder, where an abundance of stitches cover the skin and fuse the metal into muscle. He lands a hit, and almost another one, before a punch to the side knocks him from his momentum. The boy wheezes when his back makes instant contact with the ground, rolling and getting up before Spark has time to shoot.

He notices how quickly the gadget generates electricity now. Before, the beams took longer, and were easily predictable, but now, it glows bright for a moment before it fires directly in Riki’s path. The boy dodges the first, but the second one almost hits the top of his head before he ducks and creates distance.

From the roof-top, Riki scans his surroundings before making the split-second decision to jump.

He swings to the other side of the building, keeping you in his peripheral vision as he works on apprehending the villain in front of him. They spring into yet another fist fight, with Riki’s agility easily letting him avoid punches and land precise hits to make the previous injuries even worse.

You think Spider-Man has the upper hand in this, seeing as how none of Spark’s punches seem to slow down the superhero, but you hear something loud before you can register it.

You figure out what happened after Riki stumbles and suffers a blow to the stomach, sending him tumbling to the edge of the building. Spark knew that Spider-Man was avoiding his left arm—he knew that one wrong move paired with the tungsten material would have a lasting effect on the superhero’s fist.

Riki coughs from the impact before his spidey-sense rings, pulling him back into battle as he runs as fast as his body can take him.

You. He still needs to save you.

With renewed vigor, he continues to avoid the flying sparks as he ducks between structures and uses the terrain to his advantage. He can tell, though, that the villain is slowing down. The shots are less accurate–a telltale sign that the enhancer Spark tried is working against him.

Between all of the chaos, Riki finally lands a proper web, yanking as hard as he can to pull Spark to the ground. He stumbles, grasping at thin silk before Riki lets go on his side. The villain’s balance is off, giving the boy an advantage as he closes the distance, hopping over a thrown slab of metal and landing a solid kick into Spark’s ribcage. As he stays down, Riki continues to aim for muscle and flesh, his head spinning as he packs punch after punch to keep the villain apprehended.

Spark’s body–curled into itself to absorb the hits the best that he can– hides the growing blue flash that he’s slowly charging up with his remaining power. The moment it escapes from under his abdomen, Riki directs his efforts towards avoiding the electric glimmer. The villain rolls over, his body tattered from the consistent injuries, and he fires what seems like an intense bullet of energy. It zips by the boy’s cheek, cutting the mask and leaving blood to run down in its wake. Time slows down as the superhero tries to process the unlocked speed of the burst, and Spark loses focus marveling at his new abilities. Never before had either of them seen power so concentrated, and it inflicts both fear and excitement.

He lifts his arm, the other holding it up for support, and Spider-Man notices the fizzle of bright blue. Riki’s about to jump out of the way, preparing for yet another high-speed bullet, but before Spark fires, something clicks. The arm doesn’t directly point to Riki–but it skews off to the right.

Except, he’s no longer aiming for Riki in the split second that the boy blinks. He’s suddenly aiming at you, where your hands are tied to the railing and your feet are dangling from the bent metal that holds you precariously over the edge, leaving a fifty foot drop in its wake. When you see the blue energy in the villain’s palm growing slowly bigger, you pull at the rope desperately with zero regard to the tender rawness of your wrists.

In your attempt to somehow break the rope, your cry of fear snaps Spider-Man into action.

Riki pushes his sore body to jump as quick as he can, leaping across the rooftop to the building over. He easily avoids the metal railing, grabbing onto your arm as he yanks hard on the rope, the force of it separating a piece of metal from the railing. He immediately jumps, sending out a web to swing him back up. It all happens in a flash–first, you were bound to the edge about to fall to your death, and all of a sudden, you’re tightly pressed against Spider-Man’s chest with your bound wrists still attached to the metal. Shutting your eyes, you trust Spider-Man entirely, closing your eyes to avoid seeing just how far up you were. Wind rushes in your ears and leaves your stomach fluttering with butterflies until the superhero sets you down on a secluded rooftop.

“Please,” he begs, “don’t leave. I’ll be right back.”

You’d be a fool to do anything but wait.

Riki checks on you one last time before diving down, springing himself back up with another web. The damage from the blasts is recognizable even from far away, and yet, he notices the reflective shine of a metal arm on the edge of the building before Spark lets go.

To Riki, Spark is dead after dropping from a fall having taken that much damage, but he hears no impact. Making haste, the boy fails to find any figure no matter how hard he looks, but Spark’s laboratory has to be here somewhere. The badge from a week ago was stuck on Riki’s mind, and he could only imagine the reasons why he pursued this life. Was he recreating something? If he needs to power some sort of machine, then the heart of the city is a perfect place to harness the electricity for any large scale project. As much as he wants to dedicate the rest of the night to searching the city for some sort of clue, the fact that you’re still stranded on that rooftop after having just experienced a life-changing event blares like an alarm in his mind.

He quickly leaves, returning to where you’re seated.

Without the fear of falling to your death from earlier, you were able to focus on undoing the knots from the rope. Red scratch marks and irritation bloom on your wrist, and the reality of it all happening still hasn’t settled in. Despite not being harmed once, the fear and incessant pounding of your heart overwhelms your senses, and it leaves you heaving with confusion.

A pair of footsteps only become apparent as Riki walks closer, taking a seat beside you and letting out a large sigh. He stares at the stars silently as if he doesn’t have a cut on his cheek and bruises waiting to paint his skin purple–as if he isn’t hiding his true self under a facade.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” You shake your head, grateful that Spider-Man was the reason you got away without a real injury.

“Thank you, really, for saving me. I don’t know how you manage to do it.”

Riki chuckles under the mask. “Eh, you get used to it,” you hear Spider-Man say. “You fight a couple bad guys, get over a fear of heights and eventually you get the hang of things.”

Scoffing, you gently rub at your wrists to ease the redness. “Easy for you to say. I haven’t been taught a crash course on how to avoid being supervillain bait just yet.”

“Maybe you should learn it sometime,” Riki responds absentmindedly, “someone like you shouldn’t have been out so late doing whatever it could’ve been.”

Sighing, your mind drifts off to think about the balloons and streamers that are not in your hand. “I had stuff for my upcoming events.”

He knew about all of it when you’d explain your cryptic reminders and notes on your computer, but he still feigns curiosity. “What upcoming events?”

“Just prom,” and he hears just how strained it makes you.

Riki tilts his head in faux confusion. “What do you have to do for prom?”

He notices how you immediately slump, as if the mere mention of prom deflates your happiness. “It’s only a few weeks away, and I was supposed to get decorations for our venue yesterday. I just wanted to slip out before my parents noticed.”

Despite the fabric over his eyes, Riki’s expression shifts from surprise to pity when he understands your stakes. “You still need to be careful. Is your student council strict?”

“Not strict necessarily, but judgemental–I ran for the position because I thought I could help my school raise funds and find more opportunities, but it just feels like no one truly wants to try anything new.” You wave it off as if it’s not that important, as if it isn’t the reason why you find yourself stressed so often. “I just don’t want to disappoint or give people something to talk about.”

Despite not being involved with school the same way you are, the boy next to you resonates with the fear you currently face. The fear of letting people down was a large part of why Riki continued to put on that mask and step into the most dangerous situation of his life; he never wanted to sit down to hear the news that Spider-Man quit.

So he keeps doing his job, even if some days are harder and some fights aren’t worth winning–just like what you do.

“Yeah, I get that,” he tries to console, “You must be doing a lot for everyone around you, and I’m sure a lot of people appreciate what you’ve done. Don’t beat yourself up too much, yeah? You’ll always have me.” He smiles, but he knows you don’t see it. You’re looking at the stars, trying to calm your mind and return to your life before everything happened.

You glance over at Spider-Man, wondering if he’ll truly be around for you when you need it. “If I need to talk to you, should I step out of my house past 8PM again?”

Riki chuckles, watching clouds slowly dim the moon’s glow in their path. “If I’m not fighting crime, I’ll show up at a moment’s notice.”

There’s no way he means it, but you grin, feeling a lot of the pressure and stress of earlier slowly wash away. After all, nothing happened to you–Spider-Man made sure of it. Maybe things really were going to be okay.

“Let’s get you home, yeah? Don’t you have stuff to do anyways?”

You shrug, nothing really coming to mind. As you get up, you remember having to run a plagiarism check on your work, and how Riki told you to text him when you got home after your student government meeting.

Riki. Spark. Spider-Man.

“Wait,” you tell Spider-Man, sitting back down on the cement, “I need to talk to you about something else, too.”

“It’s not like my dinner’s getting cold,” the superhero mumbles quiet enough that you can’t hear.

“There’s this guy,” you start, paying no mind to how dirty your clothes are getting when you cross your legs.

Spider-Man scoffs, looking off into the distance, and it makes you believe he has to be your age or older. “You have a crush on him, or something?” And a whole tidal wave of deja vu hits you in the chest.

‘He must be badly hurt’ isn’t just something people say. People don’t just draw insanely detailed drawings of Spark’s arm and machines without notes to follow unless they knew. People wouldn't just randomly miss school without any impending signs. You’re sure of it–the tired naps in class, the random drawings of superheroes and superhumans alike, or how awkward he could act–it all makes sense.

Your classmate, aka Nishimura Riki, aka the guy who you’ve questioned if you had a crush on for the past few days, might be a villain.

The swirling feeling of trepidation in your stomach leaves three words running around your head.

What. The. Fuck.

Although you tried so hard to stop thinking about it, Jake’s comment from before rubbed you the wrong way. It was sometime last week where you couldn't get your mind off of the implications of his words, but that feeling was brushed underneath your responsibilities.

Until now.

“Yeah, there’s this guy,” you breathe, feeling your chest constrict, “Nishimura Riki. I think he’s Spark.”

His blood runs cold.

“You think this…why?”

You take a deep breath, trying to organize all your thoughts. “Well, first, it was his friend, Jake. He said that Riki was badly hurt, and I was really confused at first, but tried to let it go.”

Riki was going to strangle his best friend.

“And then, I was looking at him in class, right? And keep in mind, he’s pretty cute, and we sit next to each other, so I just noticed how good his hair looked that day, but his notebook was out, and I saw all these drawings of Spark. Like, the arms, the metal things, even the projectiles! Who would know the ins and outs of that thing if it wasn’t Spark himself?”

He didn’t know what to think about first; the fact that you gushed about him for the first time, or if he should even tell you that Spider-Man would know those things, too.

“And sometimes, I notice he’s a little awkward around me. I can’t explain it. It’s like he’s paying attention to me. That must’ve been why he captured me.” He wants to laugh at how damn close you are to figuring it out, but in reality, nothing is funny about the situation.

Nishimura Riki is actually listening to this, right now, as Spider-Man–not Spark. The awkwardness, though? It was his crush on you, and was not superhuman related in the slightest.

“I don’t know,” he attempts to divert, pretending to focus, “I saw a badge for FLiGHT. You know the company that’s been making time traveling machines? I saw a glimpse of his name and face. It’s not that guy you mentioned.”

You raise an eyebrow. “And you haven’t gotten him caught?”

“Villains aren’t easy to find, y’know. It’s not like playground hide and seek,” Riki defends, crossing his arms.

You shrink in your spot, feeling sheepish for questioning a superhero so bluntly.

“Plus,” he continues, “Spark has never had a hostage. Wouldn’t it be pretty mean of that friend of yours to kidnap a girl from his class?”

“Yeah—that makes sense. Thank god,” you breathe, closing your eyes momentarily. “Then what do you suspect all that evidence leads to? Maybe he’s a secret agent?”

“I think,” Riki continues to keep up his clueless facade, “Your friend might just be clumsy. Or creative. I mean, maybe he went through a break-up?” Nice one, Riki.

You shake your head. “No, there’s no way he has a girlfriend. You’d think I like guys who are taken?” Scoffing lightly, you then remembered that Spider-Man really would have no idea who any of you are.

He shrugs and stands up stretching before motioning for you to follow him. “I have no idea what you high school kids do. Come on, let’s get you home.”

As you hug him tight, the cold air whips around your body and leaves goosebumps in their wake. You barely open your eyes from the fear of seeing yourself inches from hitting a building or up in the air. Spider-Man only yells his confirmation after asking how to get you home, finally placing you on the ground outside of your large gate.

“Thank you for saving me tonight.”

“Anytime. Figure things out with that friend of yours, and don’t go out late, okay?” You nod and take his words to heart.

“Goodnight, Spiderman.”

—-

Nishimura might die. One, because he has this horrible guilty feeling in his stomach, and two, because of a villain.

Yesterday, he ignored the salmon and rice bowl that waited for him back at home, choosing to follow the coordinates he saved on his phone after he took you home. It led him to a seemingly harmless auto-shop, with an arrow on his GPS pointing to a garage that was shut down completely with nails and blocked with boxes. The exterior pointed to it being abandoned, but Riki suddenly saw some light coming from a makeshift above.

The boy scaled the wall as quietly as possible, glancing into the source of the whirring. He caught small glimpses of something–metal, glowing, blue.

Or at least, for a few seconds it was on until the power went out.

The voice that complained from inside the room sounded identical to the man Riki fought. Spark grumbled, turning on a flashlight and quickly waving it around. Riki ducked from the window and held his breath, waiting for the man to suspect something.

Nothing.

One lightbulb slowly flickered back on, and then the other dingy light followed. The space was cramped with the metal equipment in the middle, resembling what Riki had seen in the news.

He was right–it was the same time travel portal that was ruined from a few months ago.

Spider-Man continued to observe the man as he worked and drilled, plugging certain wires or pausing momentarily to read from a journal. To anyone, it’d seem peaceful, like some sort of renovation project. But in reality, it was so much more than that.

Riki searched for any sort of information about the machine, trying to see what exactly was left to do until his gaze landed on something.

There was some sort of date on a bright pink sticky-note, and Riki’s eyes widened when he finally comprehends it.

The machine was scheduled to be completed tomorrow.

A street lamp next to Riki dies out—which was a clear sign that something was powering up. From the dark, he hears the metal from the same place as last night moving again, and he knows that Spark has left. His presence sends anyone down the street and immediately running, leaving the area for only them two.

Riki finally sees the completed metal build. Half of his body is wrapped in or replaced with metal parts as he sets down the metal portal, beginning to push it in the direction of the power plant.

A truck or car would make things much easier, but whatever.

Riki wants to cry from fear and run away. He wants to leave and pretend he never saw anything from last night.

He’s going to die fighting Spark and he will quite literally a) never finish highschool and get that stupid diploma, b) finish explaining how Gatsby is not a good person and is naturally selfish, and c) he’s never going to tell you how he’s had a small crush on you ever since he saw your cute campaign video as to why you should vote y/n l/n for student body treasurer last spring.

“You sure that thing works?” Riki asks, jumping into action as he sends webs to immobilize the machine.

“You’re annoying, you know that?” Spark sends a projectile in the superhero’s direction, hitting the wall behind him instead as Riki jumps out of the way.

With another duck mid-air and the roof of a flying car dangerously close to his nose, Riki thanks the dance practice he does for his flexibility as he shoots another web and swings away.

Spark is uncontrollable by now, sucking the light from street lamps and fizzing wires in his wake. He has no idea how he’s supposed to get in contact with the villain like before. The body of his suit fizzes with bright electricity that sizzles and pops. It illuminates Spark’s figure, making him easy to spot, but not so easy to defeat. It’s an overload of power, causing the voltage to escape between the joints and gaps of the metal pieces in his suit. And Riki can feel it; the air is heightened and so are the stakes of this fight—and with how the man that stands in front of him looks upgraded and menacing, he knows only one person can make it out of this fight alive.

“You injected the city’s ‘Gas and Electric’ into your system or what?” Riki calls out, making light of the situation. If he’s being honest with himself, he’s scared out of his wits seeing the six foot figure with blue and white shooting from every crack, looking like a nightmare to touch.

Riki avoids a few more angrily thrown objects, using the momentum of his jump from the side of the building to zip from the top of a yellow fire hydrant to go from one side of the street to the other. “You’re slow!” He taunts, tucking in his legs to avoid a shot of electricity directed at him.

The screech of metal from the nearby hydrant can be heard as the top flings off, making Riki lose his anchor/ Before he can process it, instead of smoothly landing on the building, he crashes into it faster than expected, groaning when his back makes contact with the glass and he tumbles into the living room of someone’s apartment.

“Fuck,” he curses, fighting his aching limbs to get up once more.

And the solution hits him. Literally.

When he steps out and quickly attaches a web to the top of the building, he’s met on the way up with a splash of water from the hydrant to his face, and Riki splutters as he wipes his mask, regaining focus as he lands on the concrete and hides behind the ledge.

Water. If he can get it in contact with Spark and pour enough water on the right spot, the excess of electricity blazing from his mechanical body should work against him.

“Too scared? You should know better than to run away.” The superhero rolls his eyes, crawling away silently to avoid being seen by Spark. Riki does his best to look around for something, and finds a black flower pot in the corner, using a web to grab it before he scales the side of the building and runs away while Spark is distracted as the villain also climbs the wall to face him there. But when Spark climbs the ledge and scans the premise, Riki is nowhere to be seen.

Instead, Riki swings across the street and fills the pot with water, heaving the extra weight as he shouts out from the sudden pain in his side. He stumbles on the pavement, crying out from the injury as the pot falls with his whole plan.

Maybe this is where Spider-Man dies.

He sucks in a deep breath before rolling from his back onto his knees, ignoring the wound to pick up the flower pot. The hydrant still shoots out water, and the superhero rushes towards it, causing Spark to follow. He narrowly avoids another shot from behind him, reaching the yellow hydrant before dropping the pot on the ground. Spark is th

While Spark has always been intelligent, Riki could tell that the man didn’t fear the water, believing he’d be invincible to the elements now that his suit was perfected. There was something off, Riki could tell, and he would make sure to use it to his advantage. Spark was uncontrolled, and his powers drastically decreased the more he used them. There’s no way his body isn’t in overdrive with how recklessly he’s been letting himself get hurt.

Riki uses a web to get himself on higher ground instead of fighting, waiting for the supervillain to follow. If he could get Spark off the edge and fall into the growing puddle of water, it should slow him down.

Spark scoffs. “Run away, then. Like you always have.” Riki hears the wall crumbling under the villain as he climbs within seconds, immediately preparing to fight when he makes it onto the rooftop. But Spider-Man was also prepared, jumping from his crouched hiding position and attempting to catch Spark off guard.

All he can focus on now is pushing him off. There’s no way it’d be easy, considering he had to focus on his touching any of the electricity off of his suit. Riki delivers a kick to Spark in the ribcage near his heart, where he’s fused metal into flesh. The villain coughs before taking a step back, his metal arm reaching for Riki’s outstretched leg. He grabs it, twisting with anger before the boy meets the ground in a violent throw. Not only is the slam greater because of the enhanced strength, but the power seeps into Riki’s skin, leaving it hot from the energy radiating off of his palm.

The boy groans, flipping to his side to avoid a fatal hit to the chest. He reaches for Spark’s normal arm, swinging the villain’s body away with as force as he could to create distance between them.

Riki has been in enough fights to simply know when to run, even if he doesn’t know what’s coming. He could feel the tingle of the charge as it powered up, and with its energy so unrestrained and its user so unstable, the large attempt to hit Riki sends the villain stumbling back from the force. The more Spark uses his powers, the more likely he’s going to end up dead.

“Your skin can handle that anymore!” he shouts, getting ready to swing himself closer as a plan manifests itself in his head. “You’ll die like this!”

Spark seems to know that too as he wipes his mouth and recovers from Riki’s attacks.

“You think I care?” He shouts, desperately pressing his wounds to stop the bleeding. “You think I have anything else for myself?” The vulnerability of his character shines through as he clutches his bleeding wound without regenerative powers to help. “You think I didn’t know that when I did it to myself--what they did to me?”

Riki doesn’t respond, grimacing as he continues hand-to-hand combat. Although he takes a solid punch to his jaw that’s forming a deep purple bruise, he manages to trip Spark onto the ground.

The man stumbles back from the head injury, the pounding from earlier not letting him to think straight. Riki doesn’t try to injure him anymore, but he instead blocks an incoming punch and tries to force Spark towards the edge.

The villain barely notices how much space there is left, and the boy lunges with full force. They tackle each other into the ground, and Riki gets off after apprehending him once more.

The city's a mess, and Spider-Man’s eyes want to shut down so badly, but he takes a few steps in Spark’s direction, pushing him off the side of the building as quickly as he can. Riki hears the thud before he peeks over the edge, seeing the water erode all of the engineering from the machinery. He slowly descends from the rooftop.

“You were in the accident, huh?” Riki shouts on top of the plethora of sounds. Pain, buzzing electricity, splashes of water as he lands next to Spark; it all echoes in his ears as he pours the water from the pot on Spark’s body. “Why did you try it? Why did you want to go back so bad?”

“If I could go back,” Spark coughs, trying to get away from the large pool of water, “I could’ve prevented the accident from taking the lives of the people around me. I could’ve saved them.”

Spider-Man understands loss, and he understands the regret that comes with failure. He understands how the man in front of him feels after having everything taken away from him, but his emotions could never justify his actions.

“You know you can’t change things,” Riki responds, “You tried your best, Spark.” It’s the last thing Riki tells the villain before his body slumps and police sirens grow louder and louder. It’s the last thing that he continues to think about, even if the medic quickly assesses the severity of his wounds.

“I’m fine- really,” he pushes away the hands of a concerned woman as she holds a roll of bandages. “There’s something else I need to do.”

Riki knew he had to tell you about this–he couldn’t just let you confide in him about..well, him, without your knowledge. And Riki wasn’t morally perfect, but he knew an explanation would be the only way to fix things.

Your house looks different when jumping over the fence instead of standing in front of it. When he realizes he has no idea what room belongs to you, he racks his brain, suddenly remembering how yours was the only one with a gray balcony over the pool. And so he climbs, slipping from the exhaustion creeping into his body.

You’ll understand after he explains everything, right?

“____, a little help?” And what the fuck is Nishmura Riki doing outside of your door? You go to investigate the muffled sound, inching towards the curtains and pulling them back to expect him there. When you hear a half yelp and a hissing sound that follows right after, without a person anywhere in sight, your heart drops to its stomach.

Do not say it’s true.

“Riki, where the fuck are you?” you ask, traversing out when you don’t see him anywhere across the glass.

“Down here.” You run in the direction of the voice, and your eyes grow comically large and you gasp, staring down at the sight before you.

“Holy shit.”

There Nishimura Riki is, with his mask half burned off his face and his blonde and black hair messy and matted to his forehead with sweat. The suit is ripped in multiple locations with gashes and purple replacing the healthy skin underneath. His face is in more of a grimace, as he holds onto the web with both hands and one foot planted on the stone of your balcony—read; the bottom of your balcony.

“A little help?” And you see his sheepish emotion through the tattered fabric, embarrassed after you had to find him in such a compromising situation. “I’m a little worn out and I think my webs are getting weaker.”

You’re a little frustrated with him for being out so publicly, but more scared and worried for his condition. Your gaze narrows on the mask, tattered and covered with scratches, but clearly visible. It was Spider-Man’s mask. The material gives way to a familiar face, and your mind almost blocks you from putting the pieces together. It’s impossible, almost horrifying to think of the implications of what it means to wear the blue and red suit.

Instead of being the villain, Riki is, in fact, the savior.

The harsh truth is that your classmate, who you spent the last month working on a project with and suspected was a villain, is the same superhero that went out and risked his life every night fighting crime. It’s jarring to see him like this, breathing heavy and straining against the stone of the balcony, and his cough snaps you out of it. “What the fuck do I do?”

Riki tries to put his hand up in surrender and shuts his eyes at your harsh tone. “Okay, okay, I get-“ and he cuts himself off with a yelp as his footing slips.

He holds out his hand, and you immediately bend over the smooth railing to grab it, leaning back on the heels of your feet to help him up the most that you can. You’re filled with confusion when the boy hobbles over the cool surface of the balcony and lets his head rest on the stone, not saying much as he catches his breath. You watch the rise and fall of his chest and how his right arm goes to nurse the left side of his ribcage, wincing and sucking in a pained breath as he assesses the smear of red on his fingers.

Sitting there with your mouth agape, you’re not really sure what to think about first; to check if RIki’s alright, to think about how your city’s greatest superhero is your English project partner, to yell at him for going to your house instead of his house to fix himself up, or to think about how good his side profile looks in the moonlight. Maybe you should’ve just been relieved that the boy you started to like wasn’t a fear-inducing villain.

“Okay, first of all, we need to have a huge talk. But I’m not a medic Riki- I’m going into accounting for fuck’s sake.” He hears the amount of curses flying from your lips as you ramble, and sees how stressed you look watching him sit against your railing.

“I don’t know how to help you. And also,” you lower your voice and scoot closer, looking around at the large property to really make sure no one’s listening. “you’re Spider-Man?”

The information all hitting you at once is worse than when your history teacher told you your essay was horrible. At least then, in her office, you could process everything. But here? You’re about to faint.

“I’m pretty cool, huh?” And of course Nishimura Riki says such a thing, taking deep breaths as he shallowly presses on the blossoming bruises on his skin and wipes the sweat from his brow.

“Pretty fucking stupid is what it is, Riki.” You cross your arms and try to take a look at where he’s been hurt, hoping that at least he has some sort of regeneration ability that helps him heal much quicker—because there’s no way he could deal with all of this on top of school.

“I have my reasons,” he says, his voice quiet.

You pause. “For being Spider-Man?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “For coming here.”

“What could possibly make you want to come over to my house instead of the nearest hospital? What’s that important to you?”

“I really want to ask you to prom.”

You simply stare at him, surprised.

“You came to my house, even though you’re like, a punch away from passing out, to ask me out? And you couldn’t have, I don’t know, asked me anytime during the classes we have together?”

Riki somehow finds it in himself to frown and shrink from your angry piercing gaze. “I can’t because talking to you makes me nervous–so yeah, I’m sorry I’m half conscious on your balcony in my suit instead of at your door with a poster.”

You’re conflicted, your mind still reeling from the recent discovery and your flood of emotions. Ever since you questioned his identity on top of your feelings for him, you had a hard time really knowing if you could like Riki if he turned out to be a villain, so to know that he proved both of your theories wrong leaves you quiet as you think. If possible, the color in the boy’s face drains even more when you go back inside, but the door stays open, and he thinks he hasn’t ruined things after all. You emerge with a bottle of isopropyl alcohol, a bowl of warm water, and a pristine white towel.

“I’m not mad about that, you idiot,” you reprimand him, setting everything down as you examine the cuts on his face. You squeeze the towel and start to dab at his skin, avoiding the cuts as you clean it. “Who does this for you if not me?”

“Jake.”

“Seems like a pretty good friend.” Riki nods in response.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs, sitting up to properly address you, even if you weren’t able to meet his gaze.

“For what?”

“For putting this on you–all of it. Not just the whole Spider-Man thing.” He knew he’d have to tell you at some point, or else it’d eat him up inside to know he kept all of it from you.

“Look at you, saving me mid-air and talking to me as if you didn’t know who I was.”

You notice a flash of regret through his wince as you clean up a cut with antiseptic. “I meant it when I told you I knew what it was like to have a lot of pressure.”

“Guess I wasn’t so far off, then. If we never talked, would you have told me?” Riki shakes his head, and the simple motion leaves you somehow disappointed.

“How do you ever tell anyone you’re…y’know, Spider-Man?” Even if it’s a hypothetical, you shrug, not being able to answer.

“How’d Jake find out?”

Riki chuckles and hisses at the same time before trying to remember. “I think I just kicked his window in after a nasty poison got hold of me. He was a little too excited to have Spider-Man on his bedroom floor, and less excited to know it was me. I’m not really supposed to tell anyone, though.”

“Then why’d you tell me? You could’ve just gone back to your friends.”

“I felt guilty–I know, I know, it sounds stupid. I’d definitely get my identity revealed at this rate.” You shake your head.

“Not stupid. Keep going.”

“I didn’t care that you suspected me, or if anyone else did, because I knew it was never true. But I felt so bad knowing you were sharing to me how you felt without even knowing it was me who was listening–like I was holding something from you.”

You admire his honesty, and when you look at his furrowed brows and his lip that he’s been gnawing from worry, you can’t even imagine what he’s had to hide and do for this. In a way, you look up to him more, for trying his best even if he’s gotten all odds stacked against him. Riki’s commendable in your eyes–he always had been, ever since you woke him up in class.

“I like those things about you, Riki. That you’re honest with yourself and the people around you as much as you can be, and you try to help others when you can. I’m glad we got to know each other more this past month.” Talking to him feels different than talking to Spider-Man from a few days ago; it feels raw, like you’re not just confessing something to a brick wall anymore. If none of this ever happened, you doubt you’d get the chance to tell Riki any of this properly.

The boy stays silent, taking deep breaths while processing what you’ve told him. “I’m glad I could help you out.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “I hope you know I don’t like you because you help me out. I like you because you’re attractive, and because you’re genuine,” you blurt.

Riki laughs despite his ribcage hurting everytime he does so. Riki nods and mumbles a ‘thank you,’ also glad to truly get to know you. While his crush was more of an infatuation with your hard work and amiability, the past few weeks really opened his eyes to who you were. You never wanted to disappoint, and even if your recklessness left you in some dire situations, Riki could see how much effort you really put into things.

There wasn’t anything else he needed to tell you–you were smart enough to see how much he cared about you.

You’re so close, your lips glossy with lip balm as you watch him carefully. You hear and see it all; the heavy, labored breathing from his body healing itself rapidly, and the way his hand is full of rough cuts and calluses as his fingers intertwine with yours. But your eyes catch a glimpse of his mask tossed to the side, the blue shining in the corner of your eyes as you’re reminded of who he is right now, and what role you play. You are still ____ ____, but he’s a superhero.

It makes you momentarily forget whose suit you're peeling away, whose skin you're cleaning. It reminds you that he’s just the boy in your English class that you fell for. “What does that make us?”

“Prom-goers,” he answers with a slight nod.

You smile, wiping a cut before placing the towel back into the bowl for the last time and getting up. “We can be prom-goers, yeah.”

You’re not sure if you’re ready for anything, and you’re thankful that he understands that, too. As much as it warmed your heart to see him again and hear his confessions, the blaring truth still hangs over your head. You grab his mask, finally looking at him before handing it back and grabbing your things. His secret identity wasn’t something you could just ignore.

“Go home, Spider-Man,” you turn your back on him, and time slows when you falter before sparing him one more look. “I want you as Riki, not like this.”

MAYBE NISHIMURA RIKI DOESN'T NEED TO DIE–OR ALMOST DIE–ANYMORE.

He went home that night with his scars somewhat cleaned and his bruises miraculous healing on their own, and even if slipping through the window left him clutching his side in pain, Riki silently jumped up to celebrate his multiple victories before slipping out of his suit and finally getting some rest.

Riki’s scared of how he’s affected your relationship. He’s worried you’ll avoid him in the halls, and he’s worried you’d never want to see him again after putting you through all of it. As much as he'd understand how upset you'd be towards him, he hopes he did the right thing by telling you.

But you see him on your way to English, and you call his name. His eyes search for yours in the crowds, and you two see each other before you crush him in a hug.

Riki isn’t sure how to feel at first, but eventually wraps his arms around you as relief settles in his stomach.

“Thank you for saving me, Spider-Man,” you whisper, loud enough for only him to hear.

He smiles at you, ruffling your hair as you go to English together. “Anytime, ____.”

NEVERMIND, NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE WHEN HE SEES YOU IN YOUR RED PROM DRESS.

But first, he has to try something out.

He curses to himself when silently zipping from a tree outside your family property to the top of your house, staring past the ledge two and luxurious stories to your well decorated porch light and door. He just prays that Google Maps is right about how secluded the area is, so no one can see him pacing around your rooftop, with flowers elegantly wrapped in his hand (courtesy of your mother’s sleek envelope from a few days ago).

“Fuck it,” he says to himself, shooting a web and dangling himself down. Riki’s upside down figure watches swirled window frames and meticulously designed accents as he descends, and he wonders what kind of shady business your parents could’ve done to afford something so grand.

He faces your door—hanging down instead of rightside up, but he’s still here on time like he promised.

The door opens at 6:00PM like he instructed you to, but what he didn’t tell you what to do was shriek and slam the door. On his nose. With a loud yelp, Riki clutches his nose, rubbing the spot you hit and trying to apply pressure to alleviate the pain.

When the door slowly creaks open again, you face with the image of Nishimura Riki, aka your boyfriend, aka your English partner, aka Spider-Man, curled upside down in the fetal position as he cradles the sore spot on his face and swings slightly from the breeze.

“You scared me, dumbass! How was I supposed to know it was you? It was so hard to see!”

Although muffled, Riki’s able to mumble, “You have a porch light for this reason, _____,” and a jab at his stomach from you follows his sarcastic remark. Finally, his nose feels better, and he straightens out to finally look at you.

Pretty, pretty, pretty, and the boy wonders how you look even more stunning with a glittering red dress and perfectly done make-up. “I like the red,” he says, trying not to freak out over your beauty. “Reminds me of a certain neighborhood superhero.”

“I have some blue spider earrings to match.” With a beautiful smile, you turn to show him the little accent, and it melts his heart. “Are you okay, though?”

“I’m fine. I should’ve probably put more thought into that.”

You snicker, sliding into your heels and closing the door behind you.

“One of us is better at romantic gestures, it seems.” It warrants a scoff, and Riki brings a gloved hand to poke at your forehead teasingly.

“Let me have a do-over, then?” And the way your lips curl up into a bright smile leaves him quiet and in awe.

“What, were you going to kiss me? Very original, Spider-Man.” With the way the fabric shifts over his features, you can tell he’s pouting.

“I thought girls liked this.”

You shrug, pretending you aren’t swept off his feet by the effort he’s put in. Taking a step in his direction, your hands reach up to gently pull the mask over his chin, ears, and then his nose.

Whispering quietly, you ask, “You’ve kissed other girls upside down?”

Riki’s quick to shake his head. “You’re the only girl I’d withstand a head rush for.” And god, you just can’t stop yourself from grinning at his sweet, genuine words.

You lean in, placing a small kiss on his nose as a silent apology. Then, you close your eyes and lean into him once more, feeling his hands carefully holding the side of your head and his lips on yours. Your kiss with Riki is saccharine and slow, making you pull away when the urge to beam at him is too much. Your cheeks definitely hurt by how romantic he’s being, and you can’t resist kissing him once more.

“I’m not gonna lie,” he starts, finally letting himself down, “It feels weird.”

“You ruined the moment.” And he really didn’t, but you enjoy his subtle reactions to your light digs at him.

“Whatever.” Riki laughs. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

You nod, sitting down on the porch and dragging a manicured nail over your lips with the ghost of his affections, thinking about how you literally just kissed Spider-Man.

Riki comes back, dusting off his suit and smoothing out the wrinkles, with a large bouquet of red roses and one blue one snuck in there. Your lips stretch into a grin and you accept the bouquet, keeping a mental note to read the card in there.

“You never cease to amaze me, Riki.” It’s the last thing you mutter to the air before you loop your arms around his neck, urging him to lean down as you kiss him once more—this time rightside up, but still as sickly saccharine as the one before it. Your heart is fuzzy with fondness and your eyes glitter with adoration.

“So, which kiss was better?” he asks when you pull away, a little breathless and dizzy.

You swat his arm and walk past the gates, seeing the sleek limo waiting by the curb. “I don’t know, Spider-Man. Maybe show up in your suit and we’ll try it again.”

REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED AND ALWAYS READ!

RIKI FIC DONE!!!! ngl y/n u were right there how did u not know riki was spiderman but whatever idc she's a hard worker not smart LMFOAOAO. my first ever action fic so i hope you enjoy! also i hate the ‘oh he pined after her for 4 years she liked him for 2 months’ bs because I WAS IN IT. and it sucks so i tried to deviate from it :)

꣑ৎ permanent fic taglist (TAGGED IN TEASERS, FICS, HEADCANNONS, DRABBLES, ETC.): @dimplewonie @minleeeknow @heeheesang @mintpjzroll @llvrhee @firstclassjaylee @in-somnias-world @rairaiblog @suneng @mavlogist @sensitively-taken @sumzysworld @simpjay @moons-v @riksaes @txtari @jungwonscatcus @tya0 @sasfransisco @woorcve @shypen @pinkriki @rikisluv @saranghaohoshi @lilifiedeans @wonmyheart @k1ttyluvr @nikisgfff @ramenoil @laurradoesloveu @lvcky-g1rl-syndr0me @ikeulims @missychiefs1404 @qwonyoung23 @yangjungwonnie @onementally-unstabel-kid @microwvdstrawb3rri3s @blooqz @anormieee hi permies hope u enjoy! kith

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hellisharchive · 6 months

Note

Hiii!!! I was wondering if you can do headcanons of what kinky/perv stuff that hazbin men (alastor, Lucifer, husk, Adam, val, etc) often do?

Plus I love your Adam fics!/headcanons

Have good day :3

・﹒・ perversions of the soul

Warnings: 18+, sexual scenarios, sexual comments

Pairings: [Separate] Lucifer, Adam, Val, Vox, and Saint Peter [Yall know I couldn't NOT include him, right?]

Notes: Hi, thank you for requesting! Because I don't write for Husk or Alastor won't include them, but I'll include the others! It's purely because I don't know how to write them in this way! I hope that's ok! :D

﹒Lucifer﹒

・He is a thighs man, he will stare at your thighs for hours if you let him. You've caught him so many times looking at your thighs and every time you lightly slap him on the shoulder because you know all he's thinking about is shoving his face in between them.

・He loves to whisper dirty nothings into your ear to make you flustered in public, he lives for your reactions and red face as you try to remain calm. Just seeing your reactions and you slowly growing horny is enough to make him hard alone.

・While that man can fuck good- he revels in giving oral sex to you whenever he can. He loves eating you out and sucking on you until you're cumming over and over again. He thinks you taste absolutely delicious and can't get enough of you. He's cum-drunk in all sense of the word.

﹒Adam﹒

・This man isn't as kinky as you would originally think- but still explores sexually occasionally. However, if you got boobs, he will never get enough of them, and will motorboat them even if Lute is around. If you got a dick, best be ready for random crotch feel-ups at any given moment. If you don't have either/or- he will grab and pinch your ass and even smack it until its red.

・He is big into you moaning, really big into it. It gets him off so easily, one little moan and he's at full mast. His main goal in bed is making you moan as loud as possible and when you do- well, expect to be getting a creampie.

・Loves fangirls/fanguys and if you love him in his band before even personally knowing him, one stop to being given a...private show. He lives to see you get excited for his band and looking down at you from his stage, gives him the biggest serotonin rush (and another kind of rush) that slowly builds up over the course of the night as he gets sweaty and out of breath.

・Valentino・

・Let's be real- what kinks doesn't this man have? There's many to chose from, but if I had to pick one- you being weak and powerless under him is one of his favorites. Watching you be completely at his disposal for any reason is a big yes to him.

・Degredation is another one, oh boy, he loves making you feel like shit at any chance possible. He will tell you that you're a whore, a dirty slut, only good for being fucked by him and him alone.

・He is possesive to the upmost degree and always makes sure to leave his marks all over you so others know that you are his. He always makes sure to parade you around the tower with you by his side so everyone knows not to fuck with you- messing with you or trying to fuck you.

・Semi-public sex is his go-to when he needs a quickie, he loves fucking you in spaces where anyone can walk in and see you two going at it. He doesn't care who sees his body, he thinks it's hot as fuck and makes him even harder inside you if he hears someone walking by.

﹒Vox﹒

・Biggest perv imaginable. Will watch you fuck yourself silly with toys even if he's just a room away. He never stops watching you, and I mean never. He always has to keep a close eye on you to make sure you don't fuck anyone else like Val or some ramdon schmuck off the street.

・Just like Val- he is extremely possessive of what's his and makes it known. He doesn't display it publicly with you around as to not scare you off, but he makes sure every single person in the tower knows not to even touch you.

・He loves getting his dick sucked above everything else, he loves the feeling of your pretty little lips wrapped around his cock swallowing all his cum down your throat. He loves to see you cry as you try to fit it all down, enjoys wiping them away and telling you that you're doing a good job.

﹒Saint Peter﹒

・That man is as innocent as can be what kinks could be possibly have? Well, he has a dirty little secret- one day he discovered that he got hard seeing you with ice cream all over your mouth and imagined it was cum. Naughty I know! Ever since he has not been able to let that thought go and guiltily imagines you sucking on his...

・He always offers you ice cream just to watch you smother it all over your mouth as you eat it and he always acts nervous around you because he oh so badly wants to make his dirty fantasies real. But he can't just avoid you! You always ask why he likes ice cream so much and he simply says that it just tastes good.

・He also would never admit that just you showing attention to him can get him riled up since almost every person that had crossed the gate never payed much attention to him. So when you showed interest in getting to know him and eventually dating him- he was down bad and it makes him act up a little.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #adam x reader #lucifer x reader #vox x reader #saint peter x reader #valentino x reader #saint peter #valentino #vox #lucifer morningstar #adam #lucifer morningstar x reader

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xxsabitoxx · 1 year

Text

Roommates

Roommate Sanemi x AFAB Reader

Disclaimer: the characters and events of this story are fictional.

Warnings: Listening to someone else have sex, protected sex, male masturbation using a condom, tipsy making out, making out in a car, hand job, road head, making out in an elevator, dirty talk, hickeys, breast sucking, Sanemi has a tongue piercing, cunnilingus with a tongue piercing, blow jobs, finger fucking, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, multiple sex positions, multiple creampies, praising, spanking, biting, spitting, spit as lube, cum as lube

A/N: My confession is that I came up with this idea mid-April and it's taken me this long to get it all out. Given the fact that this is easily my longest fic, I hope you can forgive me for such a long wait. Also I apologize but this isn’t proof-read because my brain simply cannot handle proof reading a fic this long so please forgive me for any small errors that may pop up :’)

Word Count: 26.3k

Your junior year of college you decided to switch from dorm life to off-campus apartments. You were sick of having a twin XL bed, an unbearable roommate, and no personal space. As luck would have it, you found the perfect two-bedroom apartment that was just out of your budget. Considering it was two bedrooms, it only made sense to put out a notice looking for a roommate. Especially when it would cut the cost of living since you’d split the rent with them. Naturally, it made the situation even better because you’d be saving money. After several responses and a couple meet ups, you ended up encountering a man double majoring in Math and Teaching. Rough and mean looking on the outside but honestly a sweetheart, Sanemi Shinazugawa was the perfect fit for a multitude of reasons. For one, it was nerve wracking living alone as a young woman. Having a tall, buff, scar covered man as your roommate really deterred most creeps.

The other main reason, he was a great cook. Most mornings you’d wake up to coffee brewing and food on the counter for the both of you. He was pleasant, respectful, cleaned up after himself, and was pretty easy to hold a conversation with. He was also a bit of a softie, telling you about his mom and siblings and how he happened to be the oldest of seven. It made sense why he seemed to be such a patient man, and why he wanted to be a teacher. Most nights you’d share the living room to study, occasionally eat dinner together, or share a few drinks. Your friend groups remained separate, which meant the few times you weren’t clogged up with school work, you’d go partying at different places and somehow always end up stumbling home at the same time. You enjoyed those drunken giggles as you raced for the bathroom before heading off to bed. You also looked forward to the conversations the morning after, when you would tell him all about the things that happened, including gossip about people he didn’t even know.

Moments like that really tugged at your heart. It was nearly impossible for you to not gain feelings for the man. He was handsome, intimidating but kind when you got to know him and, well, he really was a great cook. You haven’t acted on your feelings, honestly, you didn’t think you ever would. You didn’t want to risk the good thing you had going, finding a new roommate would be hell if everything went south. Plus you would have to pay rent you couldn’t afford until you could put someone else in his place. None of it was ideal so, you kept quiet, watching him from a short distance and fantasizing what it would be like if he threw you up on the counter and fucked you stupid. Yeah, you were way too deep now. It didn’t help that Sanemi was confident and comfortable in his body, often walking around the small place shirtless. He even liked to wear baggy gray sweats that would hang low on his hips while he cooked. Something you found extremely cliché but still hot. Even when he went out, he only had a few buttons done, his scarred chest exposed for everyone to see.

Speaking of going out, tonight would have been a great night for it, but after midterms, you were too exhausted to celebrate. Your friends agreed to go out tomorrow night instead, so now you are spending your Friday night in bed with a new tv show on your laptop and a glass of white wine. Sanemi had told you he was going out, so don’t be alarmed if the door to the apartment opens in the middle of the night. You let your mind wander a few times, thinking about the girls that were likely throwing themselves at him. You weren’t used to feeling FOMO, but you were certainly feeling it now. Just the thought alone of some girl having the confidence to talk to him made your skin crawl. But at the same time, you figured it was utterly inevitable, he wasn’t yours to begin with so you had no right to feel envious. But at the same time, you couldn’t help but wish you had pulled yourself together and asked to tag along. But that didn’t feel right either… you felt like that was involving yourself in his life way too much. You were just roommates.

“Just roommates…” you mumbled to yourself before taking a sip of your wine, enjoying the slightly bitter taste before swallowing. You had done everything imaginable while having the place to yourself. You took your shower with no time limit, did a face mask and skin routine, and even did your nails. You had also taken the time to enjoy yourself in ways you typically had to mute when he was home. Needless to say, despite your unwanted envious thoughts, you were rather relaxed. Now, however, it was nearly three in the morning and Sanemi still wasn’t home. I should just go to bed. But there are only a couple sips left in the bottle… and only ten minutes left in this episode… you sighed, reaching over to your nightstand to pour the rest of the wine bottle’s contents into your cup. You settled back against your numerous pillows, refocusing your attention on your laptop screen. The scene was unfolding before you but your mind was wandering to other places. He’s been out for a long time… maybe I should text him…

You shook your head, you were in no position to be questioning his whereabouts. You were thankful your phone was sitting on your nightstand, giving you time to think and talk yourself out of any stupid texts you may have sent. You zeroed in again, this time actually holding on to the words the actors were speaking. You tilted back, downing the last bit of your glass before successfully finishing the bottle. You felt it now, your cheeks had been steadily warm over the course of the last few hours. You had taken forever to finish the bottle so your buzz never really went further, leaving you in a calm state until it began to wear off. Which is when you would pour another glass and try to forget about any unwanted thoughts. As the episode’s credits began to roll, you moved to grab the empty bottle on your nightstand and bring it out to the kitchen. As you moved to stand, you heard the familiar jingle of keys slotting into the front door.

About time, I was getting worried. You would have to wait for Sanemi to get himself situated and in his bedroom before bringing the empty bottle out, finding it just a bit embarrassing that you spent your Friday night alone in bed. You set the glass on your nightstand beside the bottle, getting up to stretch your limbs and find something more comfortable to wear to bed. Your current outfit was too warm for the wine buzz you had going on. Finally, after a moment of struggle, the front door opened. He must have had a bit too much to drink. Or so you assumed, busying yourself in your dresser as you searched for a particular matching tank top and shorts. It wasn’t until you heard a lot of fumbling that you refocused your attention on whatever your drunk roommate was doing in the living room. What the fuck is going on?

You questioned if you should go out there and see if he was alright, pausing your rummaging to really listen in. It wasn’t until the commotion grew closer to your door that you realized two very important things. The first thing was… he wasn’t alone. The second is… It was a girl. No fucking way… Your face felt as if someone had lit it on fire, the shock mixing with your buzz was enough to make you feel like you needed a cold shower. Clothes forgotten, you moved over to your door, pressing your ear against it to hear better. The fumbling you had heard seemed to be because she couldn’t keep his hands off of him. I can’t say I blame her… No real words were being spoken, rather it seemed like you were listening in on an intense make-out session paired with clothes being discarded in the hallway. Must be nice, what a lucky bitch.

You moved away from the door, guilt prickling the back of your mind as you tried to go back to your original task. I’ll change and put earbuds in… the wine bottle can wait till morning to be discarded. You jumped slightly as Sanemi’s room door flew open. They’re going to kill each other… or worse damage the damn apartment. My security deposit… you audibly whined at the thought, not feeling quite accomplished as you found the clothes you had been looking for. You began to strip, shamelessly listening in on whatever activity was happening beyond your bedroom wall. From the muffled sounds, you assumed they were making out on his bed. You felt relief in the lighter clothing, not as suffocated by your body heat. However, it did nothing to stop the tingling arousal building in your gut. You swallowed, discarding the other clothing in your hamper as you moved to clear off your bed.

Something was keeping you from putting in your earbuds. The logical part of your brain was screaming to give Sanemi and the girl some privacy. The horny part of your brain was telling you to listen, see just how good he was in bed. How filthy… despite scolding yourself, you threw yourself down on your bed without your earbuds in. Nothing but silence rang in your ears, saved for the muffled noises next door. With nothing else to distract you, you focused on every noise coming from Sanemi’s bedroom. It seemed like an eternity but you finally heard the girl begin to moan. “You’re so good at that…fuck…” she drawled, when Sanemi didn’t respond, you assumed it was because his head was between her legs. Just rub it in a little more… you rolled your eyes, suddenly annoyed that you were even listening in the first place.

The girl’s moans grew in tempo, muffled suddenly, likely by a hand over her mouth. You could tell by the sound of them that they weren’t fake nor were they being exaggerated. Christ he’s really making her moan like that… you felt a steady ache growing between your legs, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything about it. I refuse to stoop that low… you’d never let yourself live it down if you got off to your roommate fucking someone else. “S-shit!” you flinched as she came, your suspicions of Sanemi’s head being between her legs was proven correct a moment later. “Fucking liked that, huh?” she mumbled a response you couldn’t hear, her voice muffled as they seemed to begin making out again. You eyed your earbuds, you knew what was coming next and quite frankly you weren’t sure if you would survive hearing it.

There was a few minutes of unintelligible noises, you couldn’t quite tell what the hell was going on until you heard a slap. That slap was followed by another, then another, until it fell into a steady rhythm. God damn. You nearly choked on your own spit as she began moaning again. You continued to listen, cheeks burning red hot when you heard Sanemi begin to make noises too. You listened, hands clenching your comforter as you listened to the sounds they made. This is so wrong! You screamed at yourself, still entranced by every noise the two of them made. At the rate he was going, it sounded as if he’d break his damn bed. Her moans were wild and unrestrained until they suddenly grew muffled. “I told you I have a roommate, wake her up and I’ll kick you out before you can finish” Sanemi’s words held deadly consequences, enough to make you shiver at the very thought of him speaking to you like that.

Her moans remained muffled, it seems she was too far gone to even comprehend what Sanemi was saying to her. So you continued to lay there in agonizing anticipation, counting down the seconds until they finished and she either went to bed or went home. The sound of skin slapping skin only grew in tempo, much to your dismay. It’s going to be a long night, isn’t it? You groaned, rolling onto your stomach as the sounds of sex filled your apartment. For what it was worth, it was probably ten minutes before you heard Sanemi’s thrusts get sloppy. I figured he’d have some stamina. You snort softly, feeling a little desensitized to the whole situation. “Fuck… fuck…” you nearly squealed at his pants, he sounded completely fucked out. Hot. You listened more intently, his hand must have slipped from her face because she was moaning loudly once more. “C’mon…fucking cum… please…” she sounded desperate.

Can’t say I blame her. You sighed, your mind painting the lewd picture for you. The throb between your legs was still present but you were refusing to do anything about it. “Fuck…you’re so fucking tight.” You flinched a bit, that comment seemed so unusual when you weren’t horny out of your mind. “Yeah? Makes you fucking wanna cum, huh?” You weren’t sure why, but the commentary was making you laugh a bit. I must be losing my mind, or I’m sleep deprived. You concluded as Sanemi’s sudden moan sent a shiver through your body. “Fuck…fuck I’m close.” He grounded out, your body feeling tingly as you pushed yourself upwards to listen better. “Yeah? Come then, please oh my fuck…” she drawled, loud and breathless. They sounded like they were running a marathon. You’re going to wake the whole building at this point.

“Fuck… fuck y/n…” you froze, sitting straight up in bed with wide eyes. It took your brain a second to catch up, realizing that all noise in the apartment had come to a screeching halt. “Y/n… who the fuck is y/n?” The girl practically shrieked. You couldn’t even think straight, the silence making your ears ring as their “moment” was clearly ruined. Sanemi hadn’t said a single word, yet the girl screeched again. “Don’t tell me that’s your girlfriend? Oh my fucking god are you cheating?” She continued to scream until Sanemi’s hand came up and covered her mouth. Whatever he said was too quiet for you to hear, but the girl helped you out. “Your roommate? Your fucking roommate? You’re fucking me while thinking about your roommate?” She sounded absolutely hysterical, you couldn’t say you blamed her though.

“It was an accident!” He sounded defensive, which you also couldn’t blame him for. You’d be mortified if you moaned the wrong name… but you couldn’t help but chuckle at the fact that it had been your name. “Bull shit! This is so fucking humiliating!” You could hear shuffling, then his door opening. “Don’t ever fucking talk to me again, oh my fucking god.” She sounded livid, the ruffling sound told you she was picking up her clothes that had been scattered. “I’m sorry…” he sounded a bit defeated, likely because he hadn’t gotten the chance to finish. “What fucking ever dude! Go blow your load in your roommate since that’s clearly what you fucking wanted!” You cringed as the bathroom door slammed shut, followed by a string of curses under Sanemi’s breath. That's awkward… yet you couldn’t wipe the smirk off your face.

You flopped back on your bed, struggling not to laugh at the sheer absurdity of the situation. He was thinking about me? While fucking her? I don’t know if I should be smug or offended. You were leaning more towards being smug. “Hey…” the bathroom door opened and Sanemi spoke again, you stopped smiling and listened. “Hey nothing, dickhead. Way to kill my fucking buzz and my orgasm. If you want to fuck your roommate so bad, grow a pair and fucking do it.” She sounded livid still, completely embarrassed that she had been used as a replacement. “I told you to keep it fucking down!” His voice was a whisper yell, you could practically hear her eye roll as she spoke again. “Fuck off.” Followed by her storming out of the apartment and slamming the door so hard the place rattled. “Fuck.” Sanemi sounded utterly defeated.

Well… that was more than enough entertainment for tonight. You sighed, rolling onto your side, sleep tugging at your mind. You’d sleep peacefully knowing what you did now. You could only imagine how the conversation would go in the morning. Sanemi, on the other hand, was fuming at his own stupidity. “Way to go dumbass.” First girl he’d ever brought back to his “new place” and he royally fucked it up. He glanced down at himself, shame flooding his cheeks. He was still hard, the condom slick with the woman’s arousal. “Fuck.” He hissed again, moving to pick up the rest of his clothing before reentering his bedroom. There was no way he was going to sleep before dealing with the issue at hand. So, detested and embarrassed, he sat on the edge of his bed and worked himself with his own hand, hissing as he spilled into the condom. “What a fucking loser you are, Sanemi.” He spoke to himself, peeling the protection off and tossing it in the trash can beside his night table.

The next morning you woke up with a dull headache. “Ouch.” You mumbled, making eye contact with the empty wine bottle on your bedside table. Within seconds, the memories of the night flooded your brain, a dopey grin tugging at your face as you rolled out of bed. You grabbed the wine bottle, pushing your room door open and slinking down the hallway towards the kitchen. It took you a second to realize Sanemi was already awake. “Oh.” you laughed a bit, watching as his head whipped around to look at you. “I didn’t expect to see you home.” You tease as you place the empty wine bottle on the counter. “Why is that?” You could tell he was hesitant, he didn’t know if you had heard anything that had transpired only a few hours prior. You shrug, eyeing his bare torso for a moment before opening the cabinet to find the pain relievers. “You were still out by the time I went to bed.”

You were focused on getting a glass of water, the pill bottle in your hand. You didn’t see the way his eyes trailed over your body, his mouth feeling dry as he looked at you. “Yeah, I got in pretty late.” Sanemi murmured softly, focusing his eyes away from you to look at the coffee he was brewing. You hummed, shaking two pills into your hand. “Seems you had fun during your night home.” He teased you, eyeing the empty wine bottle. “Oh yeah, a blast.” you chuckled, tone sarcastic as you took the pain relievers for your headache. “I’m shocked you didn’t bring anyone home.” You suppressed a smirk, placing your cup in the sink as you turned to face him. “You’re such a pervert.” He laughed, hoping it hid the awkward tension creeping into his shoulders. “Me? A pervert? You wound me.” You faked a look of hurt, unable to keep up with it and cracking only a second later. “Yeah, you.” He countered back.

“Since you’re dancing around the question, I’m gonna assume you got lucky.” You watched his ears turn a shade of red, eyes immediately darting from yours. “Oh? What’s that?” You snort, watching him toy with his coffee mug. “I wouldn't say I got lucky.” You raised an eyebrow, “bad experience?” You tried to sound sympathetic, as if you didn’t hear the whole thing go south. Sanemi nodded, pulling the carafe from the machine and dumping a generous amount of the black liquid in his cup. “Horrible.” Was all he said, moving to the fridge to grab cream. “Was she not good? Or was it something else?” You continued to pry, wondering how far you could push it until he caught onto you. “Eh, we just didn’t have chemistry.” He lied through his teeth, it seemed he wasn’t interested in learning if you knew or not. “That blows” was all you could come up with, turning to grab a mug out of the cabinet yourself.

“You know, my friends and I were going to go out tonight to celebrate midterms being over. You could always join, maybe find someone else to suit your needs.” You were being genuine, eyes focusing on the coffee you were pouring. Sanemi looked at you, glancing you over with a small sigh. “I appreciate it, but I don’t think that will help.” You merely shrugged, “if you change your mind you can let me know. I mean it’s only seven in the morning.” You chuckle, taking a seat at the small dining table with him. You both sat in silence for a bit, but you could tell there was something he wanted to ask. You knew what was clawing at the back of his mind but you chose to wait and see if he’d ask it first. “You’re telling me you didn’t hear us?” He nearly choked out, the grip on his coffee cup was nearly enough to shatter it. “Hear you?” You questioned softly, looking at him from over your coffee mug.

“Yeah, I brought her back here… it didn’t end well and she wasn’t exactly quiet about it.” You were going to deny it but the vulnerability in his eyes had your shoulders sagging. “Fine, I didn’t want to make it awkward for you, but yeah I heard her leave. The apartment door slamming shut, I mean.” It was partially the truth, but you didn’t think you could ever let him know you heard him moan your name instead of hers. When he didn’t speak, you continued. “I kinda just figured it was your drunk ass stumbling home.” You chuckled softly, hoping to ease the tension that had been steadily growing. “And you didn’t come and check on me? How rude.” There he was, laughing softly and being a smart ass. Crisis averted for the time being it seems. “Eh I figured if you could make it into the apartment, you’d be able to get to your bed.” You laugh with him, setting your mug down. “My offer still stands, Sanemi. So just let me know.”

You get up from the table, picking up your mug and heading to the kitchen. “I’ll think about it.” He mumbled softly, eyes glued to the expanse of skin you were showing. The shorts you were wearing could be classified as underwear, he felt his ears grow hot when he zeroed in on your ass peeking out from the bottom of them. You whirled around, beaming at him. He seemed a bit surprised, lips parting slightly as you smiled at him. “No pressure, but I’d love it if you came out with us.” You surprised yourself with how sincere you sounded, not that you weren’t serious about him joining you. Sanemi just nodded, still awestruck by your reaction. You turned and left, a smile plastered to your face as you returned to your bedroom. Sanemi sat at the table, mildly shocked that he had agreed to even think about it. But the way you looked at him… it had absolutely dumbfounded him into saying whatever would make you happy. “Fuck…” he muttered softly, hand coming up to rub his face.

It wouldn’t be the end of the world. He thought quietly, the only issue with going out with you and your friends was the fact that you’d probably try and set him up with one of them. I’m not interested in any of her friends, I’m interested in her. He groaned, using one hand to rub his forehead. He couldn’t say no to you now, not when you smiled at him like that, not when you told him you’d love for him to join you. Suck it up, Sanemi. He grumbled to himself, there was no way he was going to disappoint you. Alone at the table, his mind wandered back to the events from a few hours ago. The girl he had brought home looked like you to an extent. Same hair color, same length, similar body type. He was cringing at his drunken, horny decision, he should have just left her alone. Especially when all he could think about was you, even when he was fucking her, all he was thinking about was you.

Sanemi huffed, staring at the cloudy amber liquid in his cup. He was typically a black coffee guy, but you bought fancy creamers that he couldn’t resist. Now he took his coffee with a healthy amount of cream. Fuck I can’t even look at my coffee without thinking about her. He held in a laugh, amazed by how quickly you were taking over his mind. It’s not like it was the first time either, hell he wasn’t even sure when he started harboring feelings for you. Maybe it was at some point during one of the rainy weekends, the ones where you two would spend hours in the living room and order some food. Or maybe it was during one of your drunken races to the bathroom, laughing like kids doing something they shouldn’t. Perhaps it was the first time he saw you in a cocktail dress to go out with your friends, or the way you tucked your hair away when you needed to focus. Or, maybe, just maybe, he started falling for you the moment he met you. How fucking cheesy. But it was the honest truth.

Sanemi sighed, it was too early in the morning to let you consume his every waking thought. Part of him figured he should just take a shower and go to bed again, it was Saturday after all. But the other part of him knew you’d still consume his thoughts, even his dreams if he let you. Eventually, he finished his cup and made his way to the bathroom. He needed to scrub her off of him, forget about the terrible interaction and maybe take her advice… grow a pair and act upon how he feels about you. Tonight may be the night to do it. He thought to himself, turning on the water and letting it fog up the glass. He couldn’t keep dancing around his feelings for you, especially since they were far more than just lusting after you. He wanted you to share his bed, fuck the separate rooms. He could turn your room into an office or something, anything to keep you by his side. You’re practically fucking love sick at this point.

The rest of the day went by in a blur. A few hours before you were set to leave and meet up with your friends, Sanemi let you know that he would be joining you. Now, you sat in front of the mirror on your dresser and did your makeup, the dress you wanted to wear laid on your bed. It was brand new, never worn except the time you tried it on in store. It was a simple black cocktail dress that ended at your mid-thigh. It was pretty typical for going out but you really felt no need to stick out, so simple was usually your go-to. You finished applying mascara and smiled at your work. Again, you were also going out to get drunk so the less makeup you put on meant the less you’d have to clean up at the end of the night. “Eyeliner, mascara, a little bit of concealer and… oh!” You reached for your lip stain, applying a generous coat to your lips before setting it down. While it dried, you went and pulled your heels from your closet and set them by the foot of your bed.

You undressed, slipping into your dress and then sliding on your heels. Once completed, you returned to your dresser and dabbed your lips with a tissue, reaching for a gloss to apply on top. “This is a lot of effort for something that won’t even last me an hour” you chuckled as you twisted the top back on the tube of lip gloss, placing it on your dresser and reaching for your phone. Your screen lit up with messages from your group chat, it seemed everyone was already on their way to the club you had decided on. You sent a message letting them know that you and Sanemi would be there probably twenty minutes after them. After a moment a new chat popped up, causing you to laugh out loud. “So if you aren’t here in twenty, you’re getting laid. Gotcha.” You sent back the eye roll emoji before clicking your phone off and shoving it in your purse. “Sanemi? You ready?” You pushed your room door, peeking down the hall to see he was already sitting at the kitchen table.

“Been ready for twenty…minutes…” he trailed off when you made your way down the hall, the teasing smirk on his face had shifted to one of mild shock. “What? Do I have something in my hair?” You laughed softly, twirling around as if you were pretending to look for something you couldn’t see. “No! No…I uhm…” he stood, hand going to the back of his neck. “No you, you look really good.” The tips of his ears were turning pink, a smirk tugging at your own lips at the sight. “Thank you, you clean up pretty good yourself.” You were a bit shameless as your eyes trialed over him. Sanemi had gone with his typical look. A short sleeve button up, this time made it a silky black material, the top buttons undone to expose his scared chest. He paid it with a pair of black slacks, a monochrome look that contrasted well with his partially slicked back white hair. “Thanks…” he muttered softly, ears turning from pink to red.

You smile, not wanting to make things awkward for him before you even leave the apartment. “Do you want me to drive?” You were reaching for your keys, jumping slightly when Sanemi’s hand stopped you. “Absolutely not, I’ll drive.” He reached for his own car keys instead, chuckling as you looked confused. “When you’re out with me, you don’t have to worry about anything.” He opened the door for you, “unless you wanna drive.” You smiled as he added that on, shaking your head. “No, I don’t mind if you drive, I appreciate it.” You walked past him and into the hall, trying to hide the fact that you were excited for him to drive you both. You watched him lock the door before heading for the elevator, it was silent until you got to the car, but it was comfortable silence. “Ladies first.” He chuckled softly, pulling the passenger side door open for you. “Oh, why thank you.” You laughed, getting in and smiling as he shut the door for you. What a gentleman. You smiled at the thought.

“Alright so…” he spoke as he climbed in the drivers side, turning the key so the engine purred with life. “You’ll have to give me directions on how to get there.” He glanced over at you, eyes trailing to your exposed legs before reaching for the gear shift. “Yeah no problem.” You smiled “when we get out of the garage you’ll take a left. Then you’ll get on the highway heading north and I’ll just tell you what exit to take from there.” Sanemi nodded, pulling the car into reverse and backing out of his space. “Sounds good to me.” Music was playing softly from his radio, just enough to fill the car with ambience. “It’ll just be the two of us, three of my friends and then I think one of their boyfriends is also joining. But to be fair, after thirty minutes everyone kinda scatters on the dance floor.” You chuckle a bit. “Usually they drag me with them to find guys to dance with… but since I have you…” you shot him a look, letting those words hang in the air for a moment “I don’t have to worry about them dragging me anywhere.” You smiled, noticing the way his cheeks tinged pink.

“That’s a relief.” He muttered softly, a smile tugging at his lips while his eyes remained focused on the road. “I won’t be drinking all that much either.” He spoke softly “Since I’m carrying precious cargo, I’ll probably only have a beer or two. My tolerance is pretty high and I nearly got shit faced last night so… I’ll take it easy.” Sanemi chuckled softly, one hand resting on the wheel while the other relaxed against the center console. “Precious cargo, huh? Me? I’m flattered.” You relaxed into the seat, turning to look at Sanemi with a small laugh. “Yeah, you.” He didn’t seem flustered to say that, the smirk on his face making you blush. Your eyes lingered for a moment, watching his tongue dart out to lick his lips. That’s when you noticed something reflective. “Hold the fuck on… is that…” Sanemi glanced over at you, chuckling. “A tongue piercing? You just noticed it? I’ve had it since I moved in with you.” You looked completely flabbergasted, your whole body turning to look at him.

“No fucking way! Sanemi Shinazugawa you’re lying.” You folded your arms, laughing at the absurdity of it, hoping it hid how excited it made you. Sanemi laughed now, wholeheartedly as he took the exit to get on the highway. “I’m not lying! I got it when I turned nineteen and I’m twenty one now. We’ve been living together for three months and you’ve never noticed I had a tongue piercing?” You were absolutely floored by this revelation. “Never! Then again I’m not usually observing your mouth.” It came out more cheeky than sarcastic, which in turn caused your face to turn warm. “Oh?” His voice seemed to drop an octave. “So you’re observing other parts of me, Hmm?” He was smirking now, eyes glued to the road while you stared at him open mouthed. “Oh you wish!” You laughed, settling back into the seat normally with your arms still crossed. “Sure I do.” His voice was laced with sarcasm, his fingers drummed along to the beat of the music coming from his radio.

A comfortable silence fell over the car, the club itself was only a twenty minute drive so it wasn’t long before Sanemi was pulling into the already crowded parking lot. “How come I’ve never heard of this place?” Sanemi’s eyes were wide as he observed the people entering the building. “It’s pretty new.” You comment softly, texting your friends that you had arrived and would be inside in a few minutes. “That so?” He shut the car off, turning to look at you. “Yeah, which is a good thing because that means it’s all new shit.” You chuckled, you could recall a few bars and clubs you had gone to in the past that were… questionable to say the least. “I suppose you’re right.” He laughs softly, opening the door to get out. You follow suit, stepping into the cool evening with a sigh of relief. The world around you seemed to buzz with excitement, the pounding music could be heard from the parking lot. As you rounded the car, you noticed Sanemi seemed just a bit overwhelmed.

“Is this your first time at a club?” You couldn’t help but smile at him. “Sorta? I’m used to bars honestly. I’ve only been to a club like two or three times and they definitely weren’t this… busy.” Seeing the opportunity, you moved forward and hooked your arm with his. “Well then, we’ll just have to make sure you stick close to me, yeah?” Sanemi’s brain short circuited for a moment, nodded as he let you lead him towards the building. He wasn’t quite sure what had rendered him speechless, the words you had spoken, the way you smiled at him, or maybe it was the fact that you were touching him. Better yet, it was likely all of the above. His eyes were glued to you as you walked with him, the angle giving him a perfect view of the swell of your chest. He swallowed, even though his shirt was unbuttoned he still felt suffocated. Sanemi was pulled from his thoughts as you happily waved to your friends. “We figured we’d wait for you since it’s pretty crazy already!”

Sanemi barely listened, smiling and saying hello when you introduced him. It didn’t really matter to him anymore, not when you were so close to him. All he could think about was you. The feeling of your arm on his, the smell of your perfume, how good you looked. How was he supposed to do anything else when you had him so tightly wrapped around your finger. The thought nearly scared him. He was quiet as you all walked to get in line, his eyes remained glued to you as you chatted excitedly with your three friends and whoever’s boyfriend. You had told him, but he already forgot. “Sanemi?” You glanced up at him, watching as he blinked back into reality. “Huh? Were you talking to me?” You chuckled, noticing your friends smirk as they turned to move up in line. “No, but you were spacing out really bad. Do you get nervous in crowds?” You watched his cheeks turn a shade of pink, had he really spaced out that hard while staring at you? “W-wha.. no, no sorry…” he couldn’t think of an excuse if he tried, so you hugged his arm a little tighter.

“I promise I won’t leave your side, so you have nothing to worry about.” You turned away before he could see the smirk creeping up your face. Before you knew it, you were being ushered inside of the dark club, the entire place was bathed in changing lights. The music was making the floor vibrate, the dance floor already flooded with people as the DJ played remixes of popular songs. You tugged Sanemi down to your level, yelling slightly “let’s go to the bar!” He nodded, allowing you to guide him through as you trailed behind your friends. He had a feeling this would probably be the last time he saw them for the rest of the night. You were leaning over the counter, yelling to the bartender what you wanted, turning to ask Sanemi what he would like. A moment later you were being handed the drinks, Sanemi pushing past you to place the money on the counter. You handed him his beer, sipping on the cocktail you had ordered for yourself. You grabbed his arm again, tugging him over to a high top table. “Crazy isn’t it?” You yelled across to him, your friends had already disappeared elsewhere. Sanemi nodded, eyes scanning his surroundings.

“Where did your friends go?” He yelled back to you, not really caring that they had already dissolved somewhere in the crowd. “Probably already on the dance floor! It doesn’t matter though!” You laughed, already feeling a slight buzz from the strong drink, you never really had a tolerance in the first place. “Oh?” He laughed, sipping his beer “why’s that?” He continued, setting the cup down. You lean over, smiling at him “Cause I get to spend more time with you! Get your mind off of your shitty hook up.” You laughed as you straightened again, sipping more of your drink and bouncing gently to the beat of the music. Much to Sanemi’s relief, it was dark enough that you couldn’t see the way his cheeks turned a flaming red. You didn’t want to go anywhere until you finished your drink, there was no fun in dancing and spilling it everywhere. You glanced at Sanemi, noticing the way his eyes seemed to sparkle as he observed his surroundings, it was kind of cute. “I hope you don’t mind dancing!” You yelled to him, downing the rest of the cocktail with a grin. “Dancing? Me?” He still had half of his beer left, but that wasn’t going to stop you.

“Yeah, you. Don’t tell me you came here just to stand around.” You laughed, setting your empty glass on the table before rounding it to stand next to him. “C’mon! Let loose a little.” Your hand rested on top of his, the one holding his beer cup to be exact. “You’ll have to get a couple drinks in me if you want me to let loose. And that’s not happening.” He smirked at you “Like I said, precious cargo, I need to get your pretty self home nice and safe.” You chose to ignore the pretty comment, despite the fact that it made your heart do backflips. “That’s fine, you’ll just have to get over it then and come out and dance with me sober. Everyone else is already drunk anyways, nobody is going to pay us any mind.” Liar he thought to himself, people were certainly paying you some of their mind. If one more person checked you out he was positive he was going to have a heart attack. “Not happening.” He laughed as you got closer, his heart pounding erratically as you looked up at him through your lashes.

“Yeah, sure.” You laughed, taking a step away from him. “If you’re not going to join me, you can just watch.” You turned on your heels, maneuvering through the crowd so you could descend to the dance floor. Sanemi cursed under his breath, downing the rest of his beer and following after you. Cheeky little shit. He could help but smirk, catching up to you within a few strides and grabbing your arm. “What happened to staying close to me?” His voice was against your ear, bodies too close for him to not feel the way you shivered. “Change of heart.” You murmured, just loud enough for him to hear. “Not that it matters now, come dance.” He couldn’t say no to you, not even if he wanted to. You moved through the crowd, closer to the middle so he’d feel a little less awkward. The song began to change as you turned to face him, your hands finding their way to his shoulders so you could lean up and whisper in his ear. “Just do whatever feels right.” He couldn’t resist, his hands finding to it waist as you began swaying to the music.

With your guidance, he began to move too, pushing past how awkward he felt about it until all he could see was you. He wasn’t even sure how it happened, but four songs had passed and the two of you were still dancing. Your bodies bumped into each other every once in a while because of the amount of people on the floor with you. It was claustrophobic, the amount of sweaty, drunk bodies swaying and grinding to the various beats the DJ played. But at that moment, he couldn’t have cared less. Not when you seemed to be having so much fun, your hands clinging to his shirt to keep him close as you danced. Sanemi let his hands wander, holding your hips just a little tighter, daring to drag you closer to him. You felt him hesitate, as if looking for your approval. You caught on, the slight buzz from your drink giving you enough courage to close the distance for him. You could have melted on the spot, your chest pressing to his due to the extra height from your heels. “Hey…” he uttered softly, just loud enough for you to hear.

Your faces were inches apart, “… hey” you spoke softly. You were close enough that he could hear it over the music. You stopped swaying, standing completely still as you looked each other in the eye. You knew where it was going, but you wanted him to take the initiative. Sanemi’s eyes darted from yours, eyeing your lips before looking back up at you. Nervously, his tongue poked out to wet his lips, the ball of the tongue piercing glimmered under the strobe lights. There was only one time in his life that he had ever been nervous to kiss someone and it was because it was his very first kiss ever. Then again, he hadn’t really felt much for anyone outside of flings and the rare hook up. You though? You were something different entirely. It petrified him, in every possible way. Standing still on a raving dance floor just so happens to work in his favor. You both let out noises of surprise when someone accidentally bumps into Sanemi’s back, which causes him to fall into you.

Your noses bump as the guy yelled out a sorry before stumbling further into the crowd. You begin to laugh, adding more distance when all Sanemi wanted was to close it. While you’re distracted, his hands leave your hips to cup your face, holding you in place as he closes the distance. You gasp into the kiss, the grip you had on his shirt tightening as if he’d disappear. Your initial shock disappears after a moment, your lips parting easily for him to enter. It thrills you, feeling Sanemi’s tongue sweep into your mouth, your own tongue dancing around him until you ghost across the metal tongue piercing. You whine, you had somehow already forgotten that crucial piece of information. Sanemi heard you, his hold on your face shifting back down to your hips as he swayed with you to the music again. You were fascinated by the metal, running your tongue along it until you felt the vibrations of Sanemi’s groan.

You parted, gasping for air as the club around you suddenly felt way too overstimulating. One look told Sanemi everything he needed to know, his hand finding your own to pull you off of the dance floor. Your roles had quickly reversed, instead of you dragging Sanemi around the club, he was dragging you out of it. The cool night air no longer offered you any release, your ears ringing at the immediate volume change. “Sanemi…” he didn’t respond until you were well into the parking lot. “Yeah?” he turned to look at you, his lips slightly swollen from the kiss. “Nothing…” You smiled, just wanting to see his face. That one smile nearly made his knees week, his head turning to fumble with his keys. Once the car clicked open, he reached for the back door, making your heart leap into your throat as he made his intentions extremely clear. You felt a wave of heat flood your body, scrambling past him with a chuckle. By the time you threw your purse into the front seat, Sanemi was clambering in behind you and slamming the door shut.

He was on you again in seconds, the cramped backseat not helping the situation but you would take whatever you could. Your dress rode up as you spread your legs to accommodate Sanemi on top of you, his hand shooting to grab the back of your head before it hit the window. “This isn't ideal.” you laughed, watching a smile tug at his own lips as he moved to kiss you for a second time. “I know it's not ideal…” he pulled away to speak before kissing you a third time “but I need you…so bad.” his voice had dropped to a hush whisper, your body responding immediately to the desperation in his voice. “It’s fine…” you choked out, the arousal throbbing in your gut drowned out any discomfort you felt. You pulled Sanemi to you, trying to shift your body into a laying position to see if it made things a little easier. Sanemi’s lips were on yours for a fourth time, shifting his weight to rely on his elbows as his body pressed tightly to yours. You moaned softly into the kiss, his weight sending waves of arousal straight to your cunt. It took a minute but you were finally able to settle into a somewhat comfortable position.

Your hands found their way to his hair, ruining his attempt at wrangling the typically untameable strands. He groaned, shivering at the feeling of your hands on him, his own excitement manifesting physically as it brushed along your exposed thigh. “Fuck…” you pulled away, your mind going blank the moment his erection grazed you. Saliva kept your lips connected, breath mingling with one another as you panted. “Sanemi…” You spoke softly, his eyes zeroing in on you and clinging to every word. “Yeah?” he couldn’t think straight, the urge to rip your dress right off of you and fuck you stupid in the back seat of his car was clawing it’s way to the forefront of his mind. “Take me home. Please, if we’re going to do this… I want to do it right. Take me to our home.” He was putty in your hands, heart racing at the use of our. “Of course, fuck of course…” His dick throbbed at the very thought, scrambling to get off of you and get into the front seat. You followed after him, barely bothering to fix your dress as you got into the passenger side. Sanemi turned the keys, the car coming to life a moment later.

Your thighs were squeezing together as he pulled out of the spot and drove towards the street. “Ah, ah, pretty girl…” Without even looking at you, Sanemi’s hand found your left thigh and forced it away from the other. “You can wait till we’re home.” He glances at you before turning onto the road, your eyes are lidded with need, focusing on the way his scarred hand is squeezing the plush flesh of your thigh. “No fair…” You whined softly, your body aching with need, the feeling of his hand only sending your thoughts into a helpless spiral. Sanemi didn’t break though, as much as he wanted to. He was quickly realizing it pained him to tell you no, regardless of the circumstance. All the while, your eyes were shifting between his hand and his groin. His cock was straining against the material of his pants, the slight clench in his jaw told you he was struggling just as much as you were. “You asked for this.” He murmured softly when he felt your eyes on him still. “Yeah, I know but…” the realization that there was still twenty minutes left in the drive felt like utter torture. “But nothing.” He teased you again.

“Sanemi…” you tried again, it was a useless battle, especially since you were the one who told him you wanted to go home. “You can survive, c’mon now, you can’t be that needy for me already.” His tone was low, dripping with sarcasm. It made your face feel warm, squirming in your seat as you crossed your arms. “Me? Needy? Look at you.” You tried to give him the same attitude but you couldn’t muster the courage. With the information you knew, you could certainly rile him up. But you decided to save that revelation for later. “Look at me? I don’t need to self reflect to know how badly I want you.” He squeezed your thigh to drive his point home, smirking as you gasped and tensed at the feeling. You felt small in comparison, as if nothing you said would make him break. So you let him tease you, his hand massaging your thigh until you could feel your arousal dampening your underwear. How embarrassing. You held back a groan, hand itching to return the favor. As you came to a red light, waiting to take the exit for the highway, your hand crept over.

You placed your hand over the prominent bulge in his pants, holding your breath as Sanemi inhaled sharply. “So that’s how you’re gonna be, Hmm?” He hummed softly, his hand leaving your thigh to undo his pants. “By all means, have fun.” You swallowed, seeing the opportunity he was allowing you and taking it. You fished him out of his pants, holding back a groan as his cock sprang forward. “Fuck…” you nearly choked on your own saliva as you looked at the size of him. The red light was filling the car with a dim glow, along you to see the shine already coating his tip. “Sanemi… I just want to make sure.” You stared at him, adjusting yourself in your seat. “Make sure of what?” He seemed nonchalant but you could see the way his jaw was tensing, eyes training on the traffic light and practically begging it to go. “That if I do this, you won’t crash the car.” You teased him a bit, but it was also a genuine question. Sanemi smiled at that, throat bobbing as he swallowed before stealing a glance. “I’ll be fine.” That quick look sent your heart into a flurry, the light switching from red to green as if giving you the go ahead.

Sanemi’s foot hit the gas a little harder than necessary, shooting forward and knocking you back a bit. “Yeah…” you mumbled under your breath, readjusting in your seat “you’ll be fine.” You mimicked him, nearly turning completely sideways in the passenger side seat. “I promise, if it’s too much I’ll tell you to stop.” There was pink coating his cheeks, the one hand he had on the wheel was clutching it so tightly his knuckles were turning white. “Yeah, whatever you say…” You laughed, leaning over to tentatively wrap your hand around the middle of his shaft. You didn’t believe one word he said, especially with the way he inhaled as your hand did nothing more than wrap around him. “I’ll take it easy on you.” You leaned forward, unable to see the way Sanemi’s eyes widened when he realized what you were doing. He had assumed it would be nothing more than a handjob to tease him until the two of you arrived home. He felt his heart leap into his throat as your head lowered to his lap. “Oh fuck…” he swallowed, eyes flickering down to you before refocusing on the road. Your tongue glided along the head of his cock, a small moan escaping your lips as Sanemi’s other hand settled on top of your head.

You felt the car slow for a second time as Sanemi rolled up to a second traffic light. You took the opportunity to lower your head further, taking in more of his cock. “Shit…” he hissed, eyes trained on the back of your head as you lavished him with your tongue. The light was quicker than he had wanted it to be, once again he stepped on the gas, holding his breath as he took the exit to get on the highway. You steadied yourself, the position a bit uncomfortable considering you were leaning over the center console to suck him off. You dared to go lower, taking in half of him before pulling back up. It took you a minute but you found a rhythm that felt good for you, listening intently to his quiet gasps over the sound of the wind hitting the car. You couldn’t see it, but Sanemi was pushing eighty-five miles an hour as he flew down the highway. His brain was going just as fast as the car, unable to process the reality that you were going down on him. Never mind the fact that you were doing it as he drove. Your tongue continued to lick along the head of his cock, pulling way to lick further down his shaft before returning to the top.

Carefully you pulled away all together, leaving him gasping as you settled back into your seat. “You didn’t think I was going to be that generous right?” you smirked at him, wiping the saliva from your lips as you did. Sanemi was a bit stunned, though he shouldn’t have expected anything less. Laughter bubbled in his throat, his free hand haphazardly tucking his still hard cock away. “No, I actually didn't. Though that just means I need to make things even.” His hand returned to your thigh, kneading the flesh as he continued to floor it down the highway. You swallowed, thighs parting a little further as you counted down the seconds until you were home. The alcohol was still lingering in your system, your nerves seemingly set on fire as your body ached for him. You wanted to give him more, you couldn’t wait to give him more. So far, your roommate was surpassing your expectations. Not when your wildest wet dream could compare to the things you were feeling now. Sanemi himself was nothing like the Sanemi you fantasized about, he was far better. That realization had you squirming in your seat, the silver ball tongue piercing lingering in your mind as you thought about what it would feel like.

“I have to ask…” you sighed softly, you were maybe ten minutes away now. Sanemi glanced at you quickly before looking at the road again, he said nothing, waiting for you to continue. “Does the tongue piercing make you better at giving head?” You laughed a bit but the question was serious. Sanemi smiled, a look of pure cockiness on his face. “So I’ve been told, I’ve even considered buying one of those stupid vibrating tongue piercings but I haven’t really had a reason to do so.” His cock was throbbing as he spoke, he certainly had a reason now to buy such a lewd item. The very thought of using a vibrating tongue ring on you had precum dampen his briefs. “You’ll have to show me your skills, maybe you’ll have to eat me out twice to show me the difference with and without.” You usually would have choked on your words saying something like that, but the way Sanemi’s lips parted in surprise made you glad you said it. “So you want me to go down on you? Why don’t you amuse me and tell me all the things you want your beloved roommate to do to you, hmm?” You felt your face grow warm, the grip he had on your thigh grew tight.

“Well, for starters, I would love for my beloved roommate to go down on me.” You sighed, still thinking about what it would be like. “I would also love for my roommate to fuck me stupid, specifically in his bed.” You felt no shame or embarrassment confessing what you wanted, the way Sanemi’s nails dug into your flesh told you he enjoyed every word you spoke. “Specifically my bed? Why is that?” He wasn’t sure why that stirred something in him, he already had every intention of taking you to his room when you finally got back. But hearing you utter those words had him feeling possessive. “I don’t really know…just like the idea. Your bed always looked comfy to me, and your room always smells nice.” What you wanted to say is that it smelt like him. His grip on your thigh had loosened just a bit when he figured he was leaving nail indents in your skin. Instead, Sanemi moved to massage the flesh as he took the exit off of the highway. You were nearly home, his mind was practically turning to mush as the anticipation grew even heavier. “What else?”

His voice was growing hoarse, he had never wanted to fuck someone as badly as he wanted to fuck you in that very moment. “I want to finish what I started of course.” You glanced at him and then down to his lap, a smile on your lips as he inhaled deeply. “Yeah? Sounds like we’re going to have a long night.” You sighed, fidgeting a bit as your apartment building finally came in view. “We better, I got all dressed up just for you to drag me out of the club.” You laughed as he turned to look at you, the look was of pure disbelief. “By all means I can take you back.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm, he wouldn’t let you go out of arm's reach at this point. “No way, I’d kick your ass.” Your hand shot down to grab his wrist, gently pulling him off your thigh. You could see his visible confusion as he watched the road, unsure of what you were doing. Slowly, you intertwined your fingers with his, smiling at the fact that he let you do it so easily. You brought his hand upwards, gently placing a kiss to the back of it. Sanemi inhaled, eyes itching to look at you but he needed to focus as he turned into the parking garage.

You continued to place kisses on his scarred hand, kissing your way over his knuckles and up each finger. You watched as Sanemi pulled into the garage, mildly impressed that he was able to take the sharp turns with only one hand on the wheel. Your body felt as if it had been shocked with electricity as he pulled into his assigned space. You let go of his hand even though you didn’t want to, opening the car door to get out before he had even turned the vehicle off. You were too eager to speak, marching your way towards the elevator as Sanemi scrambled to follow you. “Excited?” He laughed, as if he wasn’t chasing after you with long strides. “Of course I am.” You shot him a wink as you hit the button, the elevator doors opening slowly. Once you both stepped in, all bets were off. You gasped as his hands found your waist again, pulling you to his chest so he could crush his lips against yours. “The camera…” you pulled away as you began to ascend, Sanemi couldn’t care less that this would be caught on surveillance. So he kissed you again, making his point clear as you gave in and wrapped your arms around his neck.

It wasn’t long before the doors opened and you had to part again reluctantly, this time Sanemi was grabbing your hand and tugging you down the hall. His free hand was fumbling with his pocket, pulling out his keeps as you reached the door. You watched the key slot into the lock with bated breath, your knees nearly giving out as the door swung open and you both stumbled inside. You didn’t get a chance to properly shut the door, Sanemi was pressing you against it and effectively slamming it shut in the process. You didn’t get a chance to complain either because Sanemi was nearly suffocating you as his lips crashed to yours again. This time it was fully unrestrained, his hands pushing your dress upwards while your hands tugged at his top. The kiss turned into a messy clash of teeth and tongue until he was pulled away to bury his face in your neck instead. You gasped, the sensation of his teeth grazing your skin making you shiver as his hands trailed up your side to start tugging your dress down from the top instead. “You’re going to destroy my d-dress…” You choked as his teeth sunk into your skin.

He only groaned in response, tongue licking along the teeth indents he had left behind. “Yeah whatever, I’ll buy you a new one.” He seemed fully unbothered, head dipping low again to suck along your jaw. Your heart was beating in your throat, hands finding their home in the hair you disturbed earlier when kissing him. “S-shit…” You sighed as Sanemi’s tongue licked along your jaw before returning to your neck. His hand gripped the top of your dress again, yanking it down harshly until you heard the zipper tear. “Sanemi!” you didn’t quite care at that moment but you knew it would bother you in the morning. “I said I’d buy you another one. Fuck I’ll buy you as many dresses as you want if it means I can tear them off of you.” He returned to leaving hickeys on your neck, not stopping until purple bruises littered your skin. You squealed as your dress was pushed down further, your breasts finally freed from their confines. Sanemi took a second to admire before attaching his lips to your nipple. A loud moan escaped you, eyes wide as you felt him suck and lick the sensitive skin. The moment the ball of his tongue piercing glided along your breast you knew you were done for, your eyes nearly rolling back as your mind went wild.

He continued to run his tongue along your skin, flicking your nipple strategically with his tongue piercing every few goes. You could feel your knees going weak, you couldn’t support your body weight much longer if he was going to tease you like this. Sanemi seemed to realize, pulling away from your breast with a soft pop, a string of saliva keeping his mouth and your breast connected. He said nothing, rather he smirked at you, reaching down to hook his arm around your waist and haul you up and over his shoulder. “Sanemi!” you practically shrieked, you knew he was strong but you didn’t think he was that strong. You could feel his laughter, his shoulder digging into your stomach as his free hand came up to land a swift smack on your dress-clad ass. A string of profanities left your lips as Sanemi pushed his room door open, your ass cheek was stinging from the impact of his spank. “Colorful words you got there.” He snorted as he dropped you onto his bed, watching you bounce a little before settling. “Oh whatever.” your face was warm, eyes struggling to meet his. Sanemi’s head tilted, admiring how you looked. Half naked, breasts exposed and wet with his saliva. Pretty bruises littering your neck, your lips swollen from his kisses, your hair tousled from all the movement. To him, you had never looked better.

Sanemi sighed, undoing the rest of the buttons that you had nearly ripped off, tossing the shirt to the ground and smiling as it caught your attention. “So…” he began, taking a step towards the side of his bed before leaning forward. He braced his arms on either side of your hips, the mattress dipping further under his added weight. “What do you want first? Continue where we left off… or let me get a taste…” His forehead was nearly touching yours, breath mingling as he waited for your response. “It’s your turn…” You spread your thighs a little further, hand reaching for his shoulder as you motioned for him to get on his knees before you. Sanemi huffed out a laugh “it’s hard for me to say no when you look at me like that.” His knees hit the ground with a soft thump, his hands sliding up your thighs and forcing a shiver out of you. “Do I have your permission to take this dress off of you?” His head tilts, waiting for your answer. “A-absolutely you do…” you lifted your hips, helping him tug the material off you and drop it off to the side. Sanemi took a minute, drinking in the sight of your bare skin. He was staring at you as if he was trying to memorize every inch of your skin. “So…” your voice was soft, anticipation killing you.

“Sorry.” his face turned red, his hands grabbing for the waistband of your panties. “You’re so beautiful.” He couldn’t look at you as he said it, if he did he was convinced his heart would implode on the spot. “So are you.” You lifted your hips for him a second time, allowing him to take the last piece of clothing you had on, off of you. “Don’t flatter me.” his tone was teasing, eyes taking on a different look as your cunt was exposed to him. No further words were spoken as Sanemi coaxed your legs open further. You braced yourself on your elbows, legs dangling off the side of the bed as Sanemi slowly moved to kiss your thighs. The shine from his tongue piercing glimmered in the moonlight leaking through his window, sending shockwaves of arousal through you as his hands moved to hold your hips. His hair tickled your thigh as he licked fat stripes up your skin, avoiding the place you wanted him most just to tease you a little further. You watched him with bated breath, whining softly as his breath fanned over you before pulling away. “Sanemi… please.” You had waited far too long for him to tease you like this. Sanemi huffed out another laugh, the persistent twitch in his pants was making him impatient as well.

He stopped teasing you, his hands finding their way to your thighs again as he lowered his head. Your body tensed as the flat of his tongue licked along your folds. The metal ball of his tongue piercing was more prominent than you thought it would be, even though it was as warm as the rest of him, you felt it. “Oh…” you gasped, head falling backwards. You were torn between keeping yourself propped up so you could watch and just laying back to enjoy it. Sanemi’s tongue continued to lap at your cunt, purposely avoiding the place you wanted him the absolute most. “Sanemi please…” You were aching for him to pay attention to your clit, but the small smirk that tugged on his lips as he nipped at your inner thigh told you this was payback. “Sanemi please! I said I would finish what I started in the car… stop teasing me…” Your hips wiggled, thrusting upwards as if you could force him to eat you out the way you wanted. One movement and he had stilled you completely, his hand splaying across your abdomen and pushing you back to the mattress. “Relax.” His tone held authority, making you feel rather pathetic for squirming in the first place. “Sorry…” you settled again, eyes struggling to hold contact with him. “Good girl.”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, Sanemi’s head dipping down again to eat you out with a little more fervor. He ran the ball of his tongue piercing along your lips, leaving a shining trail of saliva in its wake. A quiet whine slipped past your lips, hand fisting in his comforter as you tried not to seem too impatient. He caught on of course, finding it impossible to hold off any longer. As much as he wanted to take his time, he was far too excited to keep holding off. A loud gasp slipped past your lips as his tongue flicked across your clit, the metal ball hitting it the second time. “Oh fuck…” The feeling of his tongue piercing very different, each pass over your clit made your thighs tense. Sanemi’s mouth moved to wrap around the pulsing nerve, sucking harshly while swiping his tongue repeatedly. The motion had your arms giving out, falling flat on the bed as you moaned completely unrestrained. Sanemi continued, one hand still pressing down on your abdomen as he used the other to place one leg over his shoulder. He quickly switched, placing his other hand on your abdomen so he could grab your other leg and throw it over his shoulder as well.

This way, you couldn’t close your legs if you wanted to and now he had the ability to do what he did next. Your entire body tensed as two fingers slipped inside of your already wet cunt, curling perfectly before uncurling again to thrust sloppily. “S-sanemi!” You choked out his name, the sudden intensity making your eyes water as he fucked you with his fingers and tongue. As quickly as he gave in, he stopped, pulling away just enough to gasp for air. You whined, glancing down at him to see his lips and chin covered in a mixture of saliva and your arousal. “Sanemi.” All you could utter was his name at this point, no other words would come to mind unless it was to beg him to keep going. “You didn’t think I was going to be that generous, did you?” He used your own line against you, smirking as your head fell back with a groan. “L-let me make it up to you. I-I’ll finish what I started but you have to do the same.” Your previous confidence had flown out the window, your mind too cloudy to think of anything else but his tongue. “Oh, I see what you mean.” Sanemi’s hand left your cunt, moving to hold your legs and caress them softly. “How about this?” He moved your legs off of his shoulders, the position itself had made your stomach do backflips so you were a bit sad it was already over.

You watched him straighten, standing at his full height so he could take off his pants and boxers. “Sit up, move further in.” he motioned for you to move towards the center of his bed, your heart rate spiking significantly when you realized he really had caught on to what you were implying. Within seconds, Sanemi was as bare as you, giving you a moment to admire him in his entirety before he crawled onto the bed with you. You couldn’t help yourself as you leaned over to kiss him, shivering as his hands found your hips and held you as he lowered himself into a lying position. You pulled away, lips slick with saliva as you looked down on him. “I think you know what to do… or do you want me to explain.” The look in his eyes was a teasing one, tongue sliding out to lick your saliva from his lips. “I got it.” You rolled your eyes, turning away before he saw you smile. “Alright then, show me.” It was a little awkward at first but you positioned yourself with your thighs on either side of his head, your cunt hovering just inches above your face. “Let me know when.” your voice was hoarse, Sanemi’s hands found their way to your hips again and pulled you down. You squealed as he forced nearly all of your weight on his face, until it felt like you would suffocate him.

“A-are you sure that's not too much?” You moaned as his tongue immediately found its way to your entrance, taking that as a yes, you leaned forward to wrap your hand around his aching cock. You gave him a few deliberately slow pumps before lowering your mouth. Your lips suctioned around his tip for the second time that night, tongue lapping at the bitter precum still oozing from him. You could feel him pulsate as you used one hand to stroke what your mouth couldn’t fit, drool seeping down his length to act as lube. You took a chance, your free hand coming down to hold his balls. The reaction you got was a loud groan vibrating your cunt, Sanemi’s tongue working even harder as your orgasm suddenly began to build in your gut. You massaged him gently, tongue licking up the underside of his shaft while you shamelessly fondled his balls. The intensity building in your gut was enough to have your hips jerking away from Sanemi’s face, tears pricking your eyes as you tried to take even more of his length. A loud yelp left you as Sanemi’s hands found your hips and forced them right back down on his face. The ball of his tongue piercing slid across your clit again before dipping into your entrance. You nearly pulled off of him, fully overwhelmed by pleasure, but you managed to stop yourself.

You continued to pump what you couldn’t fit, head bobbing in rhythm with your fist. Groans continued to vibrate your cunt, your hand still massaging the sensitive flesh. You never really knew what to do with them, but the way Sanemi was groaning told you that you were doing something right. The grip Sanemi had on your hips tightened significantly, his cock pulsating against your tongue. Strangled noises left your lips as your orgasm continued to build, the way his balls tightened in your grasp told you he was going to reach his climax at any second. You squirmed, your pace growing erratic as your hips grind down on Sanemi’s face. He encourages you, hand pushing and pulling your hips at a faster pace, finding the way your cunt ground on his tongue to be utterly exhilarating. Before you could process it, your hips were stuttering to a halt, your eyes watering as your orgasm snuck up on you. You spilled all over his tongue, a gush of warmth making your face turn hot as you struggled to continue sucking him off. Luckily for you, coming on his face was enough to send Sanemi over the edge as well, groaning loudly as he spilled into your mouth. You swallowed what you could, the rest dribbling down your chin as you rolled off of him and to the mattress below.

You were gasping for breath, staring at the ceiling as you blinked stars from your vision. You didn’t get a chance to say anything before Sanemi was sitting up and maneuvering himself to hover over you. “I’m not done with you yet.” He looked unbearably good with his hair a mess, lips swollen and shining, his pupils dilated. You reached for his face, pulling him down to crash your lips together in a sloppy kiss. His hands roamed your body, one of them moving to slip between your thighs and finger your already sensitive cunt. “F-fuck…” you pulled away, only given a second to breath before his lips were on you again. The kiss tasted of arousal, your own mixing with his, it was almost intoxicating. Paired with the way Sanemi’s fingers curled inside of you, the remnants of your first orgasm prickled in your gut. You whined into the kiss, nails dragging along his shoulders as soft squelches filled the room. “You’re so fucking beautful.” Sanemi is heaving as he parts from you, he looks completely fucked out as he looks down to watch his fingers disappear and reapper from your greedy cunt. “You can take it, right? You still got some energy, yeah?” his cock was still achingly hard.

“Y-yeah…fuck…please just… don’t make me wait any longer, Sanemi…” He kissed you again, this time it was full of passion as he moved to crawl over you rather than lay beside you. He pulled away, looking down at you with parted lips before realizing something. “Wait, fuck we need a condom.” As he began to get off of you, your hand shot forward to stop him.”n-no we don’t… we don’t need it.” Your hands shook as you held onto his bicep, your eyes pleading with him. “We don’t need it?” He questioned, a bit shocked at what you were saying. “No…I’m clean.” You seemed to be ignoring the fact that he could easily get you pregnant. “So am I… I’ve only ever used condoms and…” he didn’t even get to fuck the girl from the night before so there was really no risk of fucking you raw. Maybe it was the lust fogging his mind and ruining his judgment, or maybe it was the sheer thrill of getting to feel you for the first time completely bare, but he agreed, choosing to forgo the condom and crawl back over you. “Are you sure?” his tone was hushed, one hand bracing himself while the other moved down to grab himself. You nodded, moving your legs to wrap around his waist so he could position himself. “Positive…just come on… Sanemi I need you, so bad.” He was a goner the moment you said that, any hesitation fleeing his body as you begged him. “Okay…okay…” he hushed you, leaning down to kiss you.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer as you felt the dull head of his cock drag up and down your folds. You fumbled around a bit each time the metal ball of his piercing grazed your tongue, your hips jerking upwards to try and move him along. He was still teasing you, despite his own desperation to be inside of you. You pulled away, eyes closing as Sanemi’s tongue ran along your jaw. “Sa..Sanemi please…” you moaned at the pressure of his cock head pressing to your entrance. “Okay… okay… so impatient baby just relax…” You shivered at the nickname, something so simple made your body feel like it had been jolted with electricity. After another minute of your breathy whines, Sanemi gave in, steadying himself as he pressed his hips further into you. You both let out shaky gasps as his head pushed in, your walls immediately suctioning to the intrusion yet welcoming him at the same time. You watched Sanemi’s head look down, his hair tickling your face as he watched himself disappear inside of you inch by inch. “S-sanemi…” you choked out again, his head moving to look up at you with blown out pupils. “Yeah?” hoarse and desperate, he didn’t think he’d ever get enough of you looking at him like that. “Faster, please…” he hadn’t even bottomed out yet, a smile tugged at his lips. “God you’re so desperate, you want me so bad that it’s still not enough even when you have me.” You nodded, hands clinging to shoulders as you looked up at him. “I can’t argue with that…'' you whined as his hips met yours, his cock fully sheathed inside of your cunt. You clenched involuntarily, watching the smug smirk on his face disappear as a low moan slipped past his lips. You both stayed still, trying to adjust to the feeling of him inside of you. “You're j-just as bad.” you choked out, hips growing restless as you waited for him to gain his composure and move. The hand Sanemi had used to guide himself in was now moving to grab the back of your leg. You watched him curiously, letting him move your body into whatever position he pleased. A whine slipped past your lips as he shifted his weight into his knees, the movement pulling him out a bit before quickly pushing back. He was silent, forehead creased in concentration as he got both of your legs up over his shoulders. Sanemi inhaled deeply “This okay?” You nodded quickly, your body aching for some sort of relief as he purposely kept himself buried in you. “Y-yeah but you’re driving me insane… Sanemi please move…” Tears pricked your eyes, moaning loudly as his hips drew back half way before slamming back in.

Sanemi’s eyes squeezed shut, groaning as his cock dragged along your walls. It took a few thrusts but Sanemi found his rhythm, your moans encouraging him, pairing well with the sound of your skin slapping together each time he buried himself balls deep. Your entire body jiggled with the force of his thrusts, your head tilting back as he fucked you in earnest, babbling sweet praises to you each time his hips drew back. You couldn’t catch your breath, each thrust dragged across a particular spot, one that had you seeing stars. Your vision blurry as tears leaked down your cheeks, the pressure in your gut building but not enough to make you cum. Your hand shakily tried to move down, aiming to rub your clit and bring you to your climax but Sanemi stopped you. “N-not until I say so…” he huffed out, sweat dripping down his temple as he pressed your legs further against your chest with his body. “I’ll tell you w-when…” he groaned, your walls clamping down around him as you sobbed. He would be concerned if it weren’t for the guttural moans falling out of you with each drag of his cock, you were nearly fucked stupid at this point and he was enjoying every second of it. “You-You’re so fucking hot…” he grounded out, the throb in his dick only increased with each thrust, he needed to make sure he pulled out but the way your pussy clung to him was almost too much to fight against.

You responded with incoherent babbling, profanities and his name were the only intelligible words he could make out every so often. Sanemi switched his pace, rolling into you slowly until you were gasping for air, “S-Sanemi!” your hands gripped his shoulders, looking up at him with wide and desperate eyes. “Hmm?” he smirked down at you, each roll of his hips had him bumping your clit. “F-fuck…” he adored teasing you, the way your nails raked his skin as he tried to calm himself down. It was the only reason he changed his pace, he didn’t want this to end just yet, edging himself and you until he was absolutely desperate. “Yeah? Tell me how good I am, tell me how good I am at fucking you.” You choked, throat feeling dry as your restless hips tried to speed up his movements. “I don’t think so, pretty girl.” Sanemi drew out of you all together, ignoring your pleading as he moved to place both of your legs on one shoulder. He hugged them together with one arm, effectively immobilizing your restless body. “I’m not giving you what you want until you tell me…” He cooed softly, hand reaching down to wipe the tears leaking down your cheeks. You caught your breath, your cunt throbbing from the lack of contact when you had been so close to coming again.

“You’re so mean…” You hiccuped, acting as if he hadn’t given you everything you had wanted thus far. “Mean? Me?” he cooed softly, leaning over you a bit. “I’m sorry baby, but I’m not doing anything until you tell me how good I’m doing.” he repeated, tongue sticking out a bit as he smiled, biting down softly so you could see the underside of the tongue piercing. “Y-You’re doing good…” you whined, hands fidgeting as you couldn’t figure out where to place them. “Mmm? You can do better than that, tell me in detail.” The tip of his cock dragged along your folds, further driving you towards insanity at his sudden need to edge you. You squirmed, mouth feeling dry as you tried to conjure up a response that would please him. Your brain felt like mush though, face flooding with heat as you began to speak. Y-you’re fucking me so good, b-best I’ve ever had…” Sanemi smirked, his fingers thrumming along your calf. “Keep going, I know you have more to say.” His free hand was still dragging his cock through your folds, coating himself in your slick heat. “Sanemi… come on…” you whined, chest rising and falling rapidly each time he passed over your clit. You were sensitive enough that you were convinced you could cum just from that.

“Ah Ah, Sanemi nothing. Tell me how good my cock feels, my tongue, my fingers. I know you have a lot to say, you’re just being stubborn.” His eyes scanned over your face, the urge to kiss you was clawing at the back of his mind but the position didn’t allow him any room for that kind of movement. “Fuck! Y-you’re gonna make me cum if you…” Sanemi’s ears perked up, a smirk tugging at his lips as he continued to drag himself along your pussy. “Yeah? You’re gonna cum again just from this? All the more reason to tell me, baby.” You felt like you couldn’t breath, your orgasm building and tingling in your gut as you struggled to form coherent thoughts. “...ood…good… so fucking good your tongue is amazing. A-and your cock is-is better than I ever imagined it would be… so much better…” That caught his attention, swallowing thickly as he asked you to clarify. “Than you ever imagined? So… you’ve imagined me fucking you before?” He seemed to turn breathless, mouth hanging open just a bit as he watched your face contort. You were going to cum just from this, it was driving him wild. “Y-yes! Fuck I imagined you fucking me stupid all the t-time…” your hands fisted the sheets below you, pulling them taught as your walls clenched around nothing at all. “More…tell me more…” he needed to hear it.

“O-oh fuck…” you were nearly there. “Those mornings… fuck those mornings where i’d find you in the kitchen sh-shirtless… you fucking tease…” Your head fell back, gasping for air before you continued. “A-all I could think about was y-you bending me over the fucking counter and fucking me stupid…” Your orgasm was within reach, each sinful drag of his cock over your pulsating clit had you seeing stars. Your words seemed to do something to him, a loud moan ripping from your throat as he plunged back inside of you. Your orgasm rippled through you, walls twitching around him as you pathetically gripped him like a vice. It fizzled out far too soon, the lack of contact with your clit ending it almost prematurely. That didn’t stop the pleasure coursing through your body as Sanemi started right out of the gate with a brutal pace. “S_san-emi…” You wailed, nearly ripping his sheets as you tried to find some sort of stable grounding. “P-perfect… you’re so fucking perfect… with such a filthy fucking mind… Do you know how many times I got off thinking about you? Your beloved roommate is a perv…” he huffed out a laugh, looking at you with lidded eyes. “But it looks like my beloved roommate is just… as bad…” he groaned.

You wailed, eyes squeezing shut as his hips continued to ram his cock into you. His words did nothing but encourage your pleasure, the mild overstimulation had melted into pleasure. You could barely think straight but that didn’t stop you from feeling the persistent twitch of his cock, he was going to cum soon. You clenched around him, trying to tease him back and push him towards the edge, sweat dripped down his temple as he looked at you. “Naughty girl… you want me…my cum hmm?” his voice was hoarse, the strength in his teasing was dying out as his own release built. You nodded shamelessly, “p-please Sanemi…Nemi please…” The quiet nickname nearly did him in, hips stuttering for a moment before he found his pace again. “You want my cum? You want me to fill you up? Stuff you full…” the desire to spill inside of you was all too tempting, regardless of the potential consequences for doing so. He wouldn’t let himself get caught up in that daydream just yet, not when you were so pliant, not when you were so easily letting him have you however he pleased. His grip on your legs tightened, keeping you positioned with them both over one of his shoulders. This angle allowed him to watch the way your thigh and ass jiggled with the impact of each thrust.

“Y-yes…yes…fuck… please.” you babbled out, drool nearly slipping past the corner of your lip. Sanemi knew he was done for, the way you were looking at him was enough to make him melt. He’d never be able to deny you of anything you wanted, especially when you were looking at him like that. Caught up in his own emotions, his hips stuttered into a halt as his orgasm ripped through him. He moaned, completely unrestrained as his head fell forward with his eyes squeezed shut. His release spurted into you, making you whine as he pathetically thrusted into you with a shaky roll of his hips. The room fell silent, nothing but his panting mixed with your own, filling the quiet space. It took a few moments before either of you were ready to speak, your body feeling a bit sore. “Fuck…” Sanemi huffed out a breathless laugh, pulling out of you slowly. He watched for a moment as his cum leaked out of your abused entrance. He had to force himself to look away, setting your legs down gently. “Fuck.” you repeated him, a lazy grin on your face as you stretched, grimacing just a bit as you felt his release smear on your thighs.

Sanemi fell backwards, sprawling out on his mattress with one of his pillows beneath his head. You sat up, eyes shamelessly roaming over him and the content smile on his face. You thought about it for a moment before crawling over him. Sanemi watched you with an amused stare, your weight settling on him perfectly. Your thighs rested on either side of his hips, knees making the mattress dip as you laid forward and squished your chest to his. Your hands came up to hold his jaw, lazily kissing along his sweaty skin. Sanemi let you do as you pleased, hands coming down to hold your waist as you showered him in affection. “I meant every word I…tried to say.” you laughed softly, kissing his neck one last time before looking at him. “Mmm, I’m glad… I meant every word I said too, you know.” one hand left your waist to push your hair out of the way, the hair he had messed up while fucking you. It gave him satisfaction for some reason. You smiled, hands trialing from his face to his chest as you carefully pushed yourself into a sitting position. “Do you trust me, Sanemi?” That question had him looking at you with hesitation.

“Well, let’s see. You convinced me to fuck you with no condom, and you convinced me to creampie you…” he laughed as you playfully hit his chest. “I also live with you, I don’t lock my door at night…so I think…” he trailed off, fingers dancing along the skin on your thighs as he held you. “... I think it’s safe to say I do, in fact, trust you.” You laughed, rolling your eyes a bit “You’re such a drama queen.” Sanemi smiled up at you, the moonlight hitting you perfectly. Your smile seemed to shine, making his heart flutter. “Maybe I am, but I gave you my answer. It’s only right if you tell me why you asked.” Your fingers traced shapes on his chest as you looked at him through your lashes. “Well… I’m in the mood for more.” You started tentatively, gauging his reaction as you spoke. You nearly shivered at the way his eyes changed, quickly adapting a more sultry look. “That so? You’re still hungry for more?” his heart could explode on the spot, his dick immediately twitching to life again. “Yeah, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get enough of you.” That statement alone had Sanemi’s cheeks turning a shade of red. “I can easily say the same.” You laugh softly, feeling him twitch against the swell of your ass.

Your fingers continued to trace shapes along his chest, trailing down to his stomach and back up again. You counted the scars as you went, toned muscle flexing as you seemed to hit a ticklish spot. You kept him waiting, his hands holding your hips tightly as he waited for you to do something. “This is going to be my payback, isn’t it.” He laughed softly as you smiled, looking up at him with a mischievous look in your eyes. “Of course it is… you’ll comply, right?” of course he would, you could ask him to run naked through the street right now and he’d likely do it just to see you smile. “Kiss me.” it came out as a whisper, the look in his eyes pleading you to do it. You melted, leaning forward to kiss him slowly. It was different from any kiss you had shared that night, it was soft and sensual, as if you would devour the other whole. You began to laugh as the ball of his tongue ring clinked against your tooth. Sanemi erupted into a fit of giggles, the sound vibrating his chest. “That’s the first time that's ever happened.” You smiled, placing a chaste kiss on his lips before speaking. “Oh? Glad I could be your first something.” Sanemi’s head tilted against the pillow, “You’ve been a couple of firsts for me already.” he teased with a gentle grin.

That piqued your interest, pushing up gently until you were sitting again. His cock was still standing proudly, twitching slightly against your ass. “Please indulge me.” Sanemi laughed, hands sliding up and down your thighs slowly. “You’re the first person to make me dance at a club, the first person to give me road head, the first girl I ever fucked raw and came in…” he laughed as you slapped his chest again “You asked!” he squeezed your thighs a bit, eyes lighting up as you laughed with him. You leaned forward again, kissing him deeply for the umpteenth time. This time it was a little different, one of your hands planted firmly to Sanemi’s chest as you used the other to reach behind and grab him. He gasped into the kiss, allowing you to swallow it whole as you positioned him right at your entrance. You settled back slowly, engulfing him in wet heat. You felt different to him this time, your arousal mixed with his cum making you feel even wetter than before. His nails raked your thighs as you sat down fully, chest heaving as you adjusted to him being inside of you again. You both stared at each other in silence, your hips rolling slowly. You indulge yourself for a minute, squirming as your clit dragged along his pubic bone with each slow roll of your hips. Sanemi watched you, completely entranced by your body.

“This time around…” you stopped rolling your hips, hands splaying across his abdomen as you gauged how much you could move. “...you’re going to tell me how good I’m fucking you.” with your knees digging into the mattress, you could lift your hips about half way before dropping them down again. You were satisfied with that for the time being, smiling sweetly at Sanemi as you tried to find your rhythm. He watched you closely, mouth parted slightly as you began to properly bounce on him. You couldn’t help but feel warm as his eyes shamelessly drank in the sight of your body, eyes glued to the way your breasts bounced with each drop, the way his cock disappeared and reappeared between your thighs. He wasn’t used to being at someone’s mercy, but he rather enjoyed watching you have your fun. You continued to bounce, leaning forward a bit to dip your head down and lick up his stomach. A strangled noise slipped past Sanemi’s lips as your tongue ran up his abs and towards his chest. Nobody had ever done that to him before, the look alone was enough to make his head spin. You didn’t stop there, licking your way to his chest and gliding your tongue over one nipple. All the while, your hips were still moving up and down his length. You trailed your tongue over his nipple again, enjoying the way his grip on you tightened, a shaky breath escaping him. You wanted to hear more.

You looked up at him, your lashes making your view a little blurry. But it was still enough for you to enjoy the steadily growing flush on Sanemi’s face, the way it crept up to his ears and down to his chest, not quite reaching where your tongue was circling. You could feel his heart pounding under your hand, lips suctioning to his nipple and sucking gently. Another strangled noise escaped him, a mix between a moan and a whine, it only made him flush further. Still, you ached to hear more. Your hips had grown a bit restless, your mind focused on his chest more than the drive of your hips. You tried to recenter, hips moving rhythmically again as you bit down on his nipple. Sanemi cried out, eyes squeezing shut as pleasure mixed with embarrassment. You were going to drive him crazy, the feeling of your lips suctioned to his chest had his heart nearly vibrating with the intensity it was beating. You pulled your lips away, suppressing a moan as you settled fully on him again. “So…” your fingers trialed over his nipple, slick with your saliva, you felt the urge to bite him harder. “So…” Sanemi choked out, a bit dazed by your actions. “How am I doing so far?” At this point you were cockwarming him instead of riding him, just enough to edge him but not enough for him to come.

“Really good…you’re doing really good…” he swallowed, hips becoming a bit restless as they jerked a little beneath you. Grinning, you leaned down again, teeth sinking into the flesh of his pectoral as your hips lifted nearly all the way before slamming down on him. Sanemi moaned again, the sensations turning his brain back into mush as you lapped at the teeth marks you left around his nipple. You repeated this process with the nipple you had neglected thus far, moaning softly as you rolled your hips. You were going to drive him insane, your version of teasing was far crueler than his. Yet he loved every minute of it, completely lost in the way you were edging him. When you were satisfied with your markings, you shifted your full attention back to riding him, pulling off all together despite his complaints as you repositioned yourself. “It’ll be worth it…” you crooned, ignoring the strain in your thighs as you planted your feet firmly on either side of his hips. The best part, Sanemi was completely pliant, letting you do as you pleased with a flushed face and lazy grin. But you could tell, he was waiting for you to go too far, tease him for too long, then he’d take over. You really wanted to see what his limits were, albeit you figured you would have plenty of time after tonight to figure that out. But, you had waited too long to not try and indulge in everything now.

You sunk back down on him, watching Sanemi’s head fall back as you took half of him. Once again, you began to bounce until you found a good rhythm. Even though your thighs burned a bit with the effort, your new position allowed you much more control over your movements. “Fucking…shit…oh fuck~” You whined just as loud as Sanemi’s words, your whole body feeling warm as you rode him with more fervor. The slick sounds emitting from your needy cunt had you whining, eyes wanting to squeeze shut but unable to. You didn’t want to miss a single second of the way Sanemi’s face contorted in pleasure. He was way more sensitive, a third orgasm in such a short time frame may be pushing him beyond his limits but god dammit you were too perfect to stop. His eyes seemed to gloss over, hands pathetically grasping at your legs as his hips bucked up unceremoniously to meet yours. “T-tell me…” You gasped out, hands falling behind you to brace yourself on his knees. “Good! Fuck you’re so per-ah-perfect.” He was turning scarlet, embarrassed by the noises you were getting out of him. “G-good…such a good boy…” you crooned, body aching with effort as you continued to fuck your self on him. Sanemi’s mind seemed to blank the moment you uttered good boy.

Any ounce of self restraint he had flew straight out the window. Sanemi’s hips jutted upwards, earning a yelp in response as you tried to regain your balance. It didn’t work though, you went from leaning backwards to falling against his chest within seconds. “S-sanemi…” you choked out as his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you in place as his feet found stable ground in the mattress below him. This new position left you completely at his mercy, his hips pistoning into you with new vigor. The noises you made nearly sounded animalistic, your skin recoiling with each upwards thrust of his hips. “Y-you…this was supposed to be…” you nearly wailed, your orgasm coming out of nowhere as you sprayed warm liquid all over his dick. It dripped slowly to the mattress below, effectively ruining his bedding. Not that Sanemi cared though, if anything it made him work harder. “Yeah… your turn… I’ll g-give you another chance some other time.” His jaw was clenched, your body was nearly limp against his as he continued to rut into you. It didn’t take that much longer, Sanemi thrusts grew erratic as he reached his third and final peak. He came inside again, no longer caring about the consequences when his bones felt like jelly.

He fully relaxed a moment later, breathing heavy and unable to move. You couldn’t even find the strength to lift your head, listening intently to Sanemi’s heartbeat slowly return to normal. You stayed in that position for a while, shivering as his softened cock slipped out of you, the steady leak of his cum following it. “So…” Sanemi spoke softly, eyes feeling heavy. He couldn’t recall the last time he had felt this content. “So…” you repeated, carefully lifting your head. You had moved to get off of him, despite his protests. You settled next to him, your front pressed snuggly to his side, his arm wrapping around your shoulder to hold you close. “We need to clean up.” he muttered softly, not only did the two of you need to clean yourselves, you needed to change his bedding. “Yeah, we do, but I can’t really feel my legs right now.” You laughed, hand resting on his chest to trace the scars that were there. Sanemi snorted, his hand playing with your hair while his arm still rested on your shoulders. “We can worry about it in a little bit.” he teased softly, heart feeling as light as air with you next to him. “Did this… make-up for your shitty experience last night?” You chewed on your lower lip, now was a better time than any to reveal your secret.

“Ugh don’t remind me.” he cringed a bit, thinking back on the entire thing. “Well… I do have something to confess…” you started lightly, only a little worried about how he’d react. Though, it seemed Sanemi was already a step ahead of you. “You were awake, weren’t you?” he didn’t sound mad, rather he sounded curious. “I was.” you sounded a bit sheepish, continuing carefully. “I heard the whole ordeal and… well… I heard you moan my name.” You squeezed your eyes shut, even though you didn’t think he would react poorly, you were still bracing yourself for anger. “You did, huh?” Sanemi is chuckling, his hand still playing with your hair. “Is that why you had the courage to make a move?” It seems he knew you better than you thought. “Yeah, actually. It was the only reason I felt confident enough going for you… I was so scared of ruining this.” Your confession had his cheeks turning pink, a gentle smile creeping up his features. “I guess I can’t be too mad, especially since it led you right into my arms…finally.” he added softly, he wasn’t used to all this mushy stuff but with you he couldn’t seem to help it. “So, you feel the same then?” you were positive you had feelings for him, but you worried it was too soon to go on and confess you loved him. Even though it was the honest truth.

“If that feeling is love… then yes. It’s going to sound incredibly cliche, but I’ve been in love with you since the moment I laid eyes on you. Those feelings only intensified the more I got to know you.” You looked up at him, finding a bit more strength in your limbs as you moved to kiss his cheek. “I…I love you too. It’s super cliche but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, you’ve been a thought on my mind since we met up for the first time to see if we’d be a good fit to live together.” you confessed with a grin, eyes sparkling in the moonlight that filled his room. “So we've been dancing around each other since the end of August for no reason.” Sanemi laughed in disbelief, you joined him. “I guess so.” You laughed as well, thighs shifting and making you cringe a bit. “We really need to clean up…” you could feel the sticky remnants beginning to dry. “We do.” He sounded a bit sad as he let you go, allowing you to get up and off the bed. He followed you, holding back a laugh when he realized how fucked up his comforter got. “Go take a shower, I’ll take care of this.” You pouted a bit, face warm when you looked at the damage. “Will you join me after?” You truly had no energy for anything else, but the idea of showering alone just felt so lonely. Sanemi laughed, pulling you close to place a kiss on top of your head. “Yeah, I’ll join you.” he let you go a moment later, watching as you walked out of the door and headed for the bathroom.

Now that he was alone, he couldn’t help the grin that stretched across his face. He was so happy he could start skipping, he had never been so happy to strip his bed. The comforter would need to be washed, so would his sheets, but luckily his mattress was unharmed. That being said, he wasn’t in any mood to go to the basement and do a load of laundry. “Her bed it is.” he muttered to himself, thankful that your bed was still clean and untouched. Laundry could wait for the morning, for now, you were waiting for him in the shower. You had only been standing under the warm water for a few minutes before Sanemi joined you. Neither of you had the energy to do anything other than bathe, though it was far more intimate than anything you had done that night. He was gentle with you, taking all the time he could to bathe your body. He even washed your hair for you, scrubbing your scalp with care. You returned the favor, enjoying every minute of washing his body, enjoying the way his muscles flexed. “You’re ticklish, aren't you.” he couldn’t deny it if he wanted to. You two stayed in the shower until the water began to turn cold. You stood in front of the mirror, towel wrapped around you as you began brushing your teeth, it was close to one in the morning at this point. Sanemi fell into rhythm beside you, brushing his teeth and while watching you in the mirror. You winked at him, putting your toothbrush away and laughing as he blushed.

Sanemi had told you the plan before getting out of the shower, so you entered your room to find something to put on. Sanemi joined you again a few minutes later, dressed in nothing but a pair of boxers. “I promise this is how I typically sleep.” He laughed when you eyed in with your eyebrow cocked. You had put on an oversized tshirt and panties, no bra or anything else. You settled into bed together, curling up beside Sanemi immediately. “There is one other thing we haven’t discussed.” You started softly, head resting on his chest as you closed your eyes. “Yeah? What is it?” His hand had returned to your hair, playing with slightly damp locks. “What are we? Now, I mean.” You were giving him the option, allowing him to choose whatever he felt most comfortable with. “Well, if you’d let me… I’d love for you to be my girlfriend.” You were thankful the room was dark and that your face was on his chest so he couldn’t see the way you smiled. “I would love nothing more than to call you my boyfriend.” You tried to sound calm but the giddiness in your tone gave it away. “Consider it done then, pretty girl.” You laughed now, arm slinging over his waist to hold him close. “Good night, lover boy.” Sanemi’s laughter rumbled in his chest, quietly he uttered “Good night, pretty”

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

A month and a half later, your shared apartment looked a bit different. You had sold your bed frame and mattress after a few weeks of sleeping only in Sanemi’s bed. You figured the items were just taking up space and there was probably some college student itching to get their hands on a good deal. Plus… who doesn’t like a little bit of pocket money. So you listed them as a set and it’s no shock that they sold within a day. Sanemi had been lovingly pestering you to turn the space into a gym/office. “There is no way we’re getting gym equipment all the way up here! There is a damn community gym on the ground floor.” Sanemi had only pouted, saying he didn’t want all the fancy stuff. Just some weights and maybe a pull up bar so he could work out while you studied. “You just want new ways to seduce me.” His laugh told you that you weren’t too far off with your statement. In the end, you gave in. Since you’d be living here the whole year, even during break, it was only right to make the place your own.

This time, as a couple opposed to roommates.

You ended up finishing your room makeover just in time for finals. The t wo of you spent the week leading up to your exams in that room, stud ying… for the most part. Regardless, the most dreaded time of year came and went and you both ended your semester with passed exams and passed classes. Now, you can enjoy your winter break in peace. “Are you sure they won’t be upset?” Your cheeks puffed out as you pulled the zipper closed on your suitcase. “Of course not, Ma will love having another mouth to feed. It’s her biggest form of love really. Plus my siblings have been dying to meet you.” Your heart fluttered a bit, you’d only talked to and seen Sanemi’s family through his own texts and pictures. You had gotten to know Genya a bit over the few times Sanemi facetimed him. As for the other siblings, you were still trying to get their names and faces down pat. You often found yourself silently repeating “Genya, Sumi, Hiroshi, Tekio, Koto, and Shuya.” his mother’s name was Shizu, which you had already committed to memory.

“I really don’t want to be any trouble.” You added softly, still a bit worried about going to meet his family. Sanemi stopped looking through his things, looking up at you with a sad smile. “You won’t be any trouble at all, I mean it. My Ma even yelled at me over the phone! She said if I didn’t bring you home with me then she’ll never let me hear the end of it. She’s even more excited to meet you than my siblings are.” He crossed the room, wrapping you in a tight hug. “It seems like a lot of pressure…” he added softly, pressing his cheek to the top of your head. “But you have nothing to worry about, they’ll love you, just as much as I do.” You laughed a bit, mumbling out an “I love you too” against his chest. When you pulled away, he was a bit surprised to see tears in your eyes. “Hey…” he whispered softly, smiling as he used his thumb to wipe them away. “I promise you, they’ll love you.” His constant affirmations made your heart pound. “I trust you.” He kissed your forehead, letting you go just a bit reluctantly. “Do you have everything you need?” Luckily his family lived kinda close. It would only take three hours by train to get there. His mother would be waiting to pick the two of you up from the station.

“I do, do you?” you raised an eyebrow as he closed up the fairly empty suitcase. “Yeah, it’s my home we're going too.” he chuckled as he placed it on the floor “most of my stuff is still there.” You did the same, pulling up the handle so you could wheel it. “I guess that's true…” you were excited to see his family home, it would give you even more insight on the man you loved. You would be staying with them for two weeks and then returning. By then the holidays would be over and you’d get to start preparing for the spring semester. Then, you’d figure out if you’d renew the lease or look for somewhere else to stay. It seemed rather daunting but it was still months away, nothing to worry about now other than making a good impression. Sanemi lets you go ahead of him, flicking off the lights to your shared room before following you to the door. Your backpack was slung over one shoulder, your keys in the hand that was wheeling your suitcase behind you. “We’re still catching a taxi right?” Neither of you wanted to pay to keep your car at the train station for the next two weeks. “Yeah, I’ll pay for it.” He smiled when you scrunch your nose, you hated that he insisted on paying for everything himself.

Hell, he had even tried to pay the rent in full himself. By try, you mean he did. You nearly killed him when you found out he went ahead and paid for the next month in full. Regarding gifts, you had both decided to exchange them when you returned, it would just be easier than lugging them to and from. So, after Sanemi did one last check to make sure all lights were off, everything was unplugged and the stove wouldn’t mysteriously ignite on its own, you were stepping into the hall and locking the door. You still had roughly five hours before encountering the rest of the Shinazugawa family, but that didn’t ease the butterflies in your stomach as you pressed the button for the ground floor. “You already look as if you’ll faint.” Sanemi laughed, nudging you with his shoulder and watching you quickly catch your balance. You huffed out a laugh, rolling your eyes as you gripped the handle of your suitcase tightly. “You’d feel the same if we were going to meet my family. You’re just lucky they are a flight away.” Sanemi couldn’t deny it, the very thought made his stomach turn as the elevator doors opened. “Touché”.

The next thing you knew, you were boarding the train. “I texted my Ma and told her we’re on our way.” He seemed giddy, the grin on his face was that of an excited little kid. You couldn’t help but smile as well, his excitement was contagious. “That's good!” you took the window seat, hand immediately reaching for Sanemi’s once he put your backpack in the overhead storage. Catching the train now meant you’d get to Sanemi’s hometown around ten in the morning. Then you could crash in his room after the breakfast Sanemi had assured you his mother would make. “She won’t be satisfied until we’ve gained a few pounds.” The thought warmed your heart, you just prayed you made a good impression on such a wonderful lady. There was one thing you weren’t aware of though, and it was the fact that Shizu practically knew you already. Simply because of how often Sanemi texted her gushing about you. Within three days of you two settling into your new relationship, he had excitedly texted her that he had a girlfriend. Shizu wasn’t all that shocked when he told her it was his roommate, she could tell from the first time he ever spoke about you that he liked you. His mother could read him better than anyone.

This time, it was different than any of the girls he had ever brought home. Most of them only lasted a few weeks before breaking things off and moving on. When Shizu asked him why, he would say things just weren’t clicking. But with you? It was something else entirely. She still thinks back on the phone call she received from Sanemi, shortly after meeting with you about the roommate request. “I finally found a good place with good rent, just out of my budget but this girl was looking for a roommate. I met with her a little while ago and she’s super nice. She said she would gladly let me take the room because we clicked right away. Her name is y/n, Ma she's so pretty and kind. I mean I don’t want to get ahead of myself but wow…” Shizu had been smiling the whole time he spoke, congratulating him softly as he continued to go on about you. It wasn’t until the two of you made things official that Sanemi actually sent her a picture of the two of you. He had been dying too for months now but he didn’t want to cross your boundaries or make things weird. Shizu had to admit, you were prettier than she could have ever imagined. She had painted such a pretty picture of you in her head based on the way Sanemi spoke about you. But the picture he had sent had actually made her gasp.

It was candid, you must have been laughing at something he said but your eyes seemed to sparkle as you looked at him. Sanemi had already accumulated an entire album of candid shots of you, but you didn’t know that. “Earth to Sanemi?” you waved your hand in front of his face, laughing softly as he blinked back into reality. “Huh?” the train had already begun to move, the world flying past the window at rapid speeds. “You can lean on my shoulder if you’re that sleepy.” You laughed again, thumb brushing along his scarred knuckles. “No, no I’m fine. I was just thinking.” He confessed softly, cheeks turning a shade of pink as he looked at you. You noticed that look in his eyes, when his pupils seem to swallow the pale purple of his irises. “You’re daydreaming about me, huh?” you had a cheeky grin on your face as he groaned, he still couldn’t understand how you always caught him. “I was right, wasn't I?” you laughed softly, playing with his fingers as he nodded lamely. “You’re always on my mind, what can I say?”

You look away, making a fake gagging noise, Sanemi’s laughter reaching your ears as you turn to look at him again. “You’re such a sap.” You laughed, settling your head against his shoulder. “It’s all your fault.” He muttered softly, embarrassed just a bit by how soft you turned him. When it came to you, he could melt into a pile of mush over something as simple as you laughing at what he said. “I guess you’re right, I can’t help the fact that I’m so loveable.” You yawn, eyes scanning the surroundings that fly past. You could feel Sanemi’s shoulder shake as he laughed, a smile tugging on your face. Silence fell over the two of you as the train barreled towards your destination, it took him a minute to realize you had fallen asleep. “I guess you were running off of nerves.” He laughs softly, opening his phone camera to snap a photo of your cheek squished into his shoulder. He saved it to his album, smiling as he scrolled through the photos before quickly closing it and putting in one ear bud. “Looks like I’ll have a lot of time to myself.” He had a funny feeling you wouldn’t be waking up any time soon.

His assumption was correct, he was gently shaking you awake as the train approached the station. “We’re here.” He smiled down at you, at some point he had managed to shift your head from his shoulder down to his lap. You blinked awake, eyes scanning your surroundings as you tried to recall what was even going on. “You can sleep more once we get to my home, but for now, we’re about to stop.” Sanemi’s voice is soft, watching as realization dawns on your features and you go from lying down to sitting straight up in the blink of an eye. “W-we’re here?” You practically squeaked, the nervous butterflies turning into a frenzy as you realized within the next ten minutes you’d be meeting Sanemi’s mother. “Oh my god! Why did you let me fall asleep! I had no time to mentally prepare!” Your hands came up to hide your face, trying to collect yourself as you inhaled deeply. Sanemi just watched you with a smile, finding your nerves to be amusing. “You’re going to be perfectly fine, I swear.” The train finally stopped all together, jerking you slightly as the conductor came over the intercom to announce the stop and the doors opened at the end of each train car. “C’mon, just rip the bandaid.”

“Easier said than done…” You stood up, immediately feeling weighed down by dread as Sanemi pulled your backpack from the overhead storage and gave it to you. “You’ll be fine, you’ll be laughing at yourself in less than fifteen minutes when you realize how much you overreacted.” You wanted to believe he was right, but naturally your nerves wouldn't settle until you had met his family and settled in for the two week stay. You reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly as he led you off the train with the rest of the passengers getting off at this stop. “Wait here and I’ll grab the suitcases.” You nodded, hand gripping the strap of your backpack as you tried to replicate the grounded comfort Sanemi’s hand offered you. Within two minutes he was strolling back to you, both suitcases wheeling behind him.”Here we are.” He gave the handle of yours to you, sighing softly as your hand reached for it shakily. “I’m gonna call my Ma real quick to let her know we’re here. I’m sure she is too but I don’t know where she could have parked.” You nodded, unable to formulate words as the dreaded anticipation built. It was no shock when you heard her pick up after one ring, her voice reaching your ears even over the bustling station.

Sanemi clicked his phone off a moment later. “She’s waiting out front.” He smiled at you, shoving his phone in his pocket so he could hold your hand. “I’m not even going to ask if you��re ready cause I know you’ll say no.” He teased you softly, pulling you along as you followed behind him just a step. Your eyes scanned the station around you, noting how many people seemed to be swamped with holiday gifts they were bringing to family. The holidays were a dreaded time to travel, you typically tried to avoid it, but you could make an exception for this. Especially when you had a boyfriend like Sanemi with you. The cold air outside hit you like a freight train, your hand squeezing Sanemi a little tighter as the train station crowd didn’t seem to disperse after exiting the building. Sanemi stopped for a moment, eyes scanning the curb until he spotted a familiar SUV, a car he deemed way too big for his short mom. But with all of his siblings, a car that size was necessary. “There she is.” He didn’t let go of your hand, rather he let his suitcase go for a moment so he could wave to her. That small detail made your heart flutter a bit, for a reason other than your panicked nerves.

Your throat seemed to go dry as the car door opened and a small woman jumped out of the car. “Sanemi! Y/N!” she called with a bright smile as the two of you walked towards her. “Ma! How are you?” Sanemi smiled, you let go of his hand so he could hug his mom. “It’s lovely to finally meet you, Miss Shinazugawa.” You used both hands to clutch your suitcase now, waiting for her to let go of her son. “Please, call me Shizu, dear.” She beamed at you, leaving Sanemi to pull you into a tight hug. You jumped a bit but welcomed the embrace, motherly love was always comforting. “Oh, alright.” You smiled softly, your nerves melting just a bit as you hugged her back. “It’s freezing, let's get your stuff in the car and get you two home.” Shizu pulled away, hands coming up to hold your face with a gentle smile. Sanemi took the initiative, taking your things and putting them in the trunk, his mother opened the back door for you to get in before rounding the car and getting back in the driver seat. A moment later Sanemi was joining you in the back. “Away we go.” Shizu smiled, glancing at the two of you in the rear view mirror before pulling away from the curb and out to the street.

“I must prepare you two now, the kids are ecstatic to see the two of you. So please, y/n-dear, don’t be afraid to say you’re overwhelmed.” She laughed softly, you nodded a bit as Sanemi’s hand found your own. “I’ll try and be your human shield.” He laughed, “I’m sure Genya will be one too, he’s good at picking up on emotions and such, he’s also great at handling the little gremlins.” It was comforting to know that they thought far ahead for you, making it apparent they wouldn’t take any offense if you truly got overwhelmed. “Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind but I’m sure I'll be okay. Thank you for welcoming me so kindly, Shizu.” Her name still felt a bit awkward on your tongue but you felt rude to call her by anything else. “Of course dear, I’m very happy to have you here. It’s not often at all that Sanemi even brings home friends, nevermind such a beautiful girl like you.” Sanemi made a strangled noise of embarrassment as you laughed. “I’m not surprised, he’s never brought any friends back to our apartment.” You teased him, watching as his mouth dropped “Hey! Neither do you.” You shrug “I guess you’re right.”

Shizu was smiling, glancing back at the two of you in the mirror every so often. “So, what happened that the two of you finally realized your feelings for one another?” A question like that had you and Sanemi growing warm, glancing at each other quickly. “Oh, uhm… well…” Your face was burning by now, memories of that night flashing through your mind. “M-Ma a question like that is a bit much.” Sanemi didn’t sound upset, rather he sounded flustered. That gave away more than needed, making Shizu laugh in response. “Oh, I see.” her tone had your eyes squeezing shut, embarrassment forcing a laugh out of you. “I’m not one to judge, ya know. Regardless of how it happened… though I think I get what’s being implied, clearly your feelings for one another go a lot farther than physical.” Sanemi groaned out another “ma” before Shizu began to laugh. “You’re both adults, Sanemi, I’d be foolish to think you two haven’t gone a lot further.” This time you couldn’t help but look at Sanemi and laugh, his mother’s innocence and honesty was comforting. “Yeah, okay Ma we get it.” Sanemi’s ears were burning red, the smile on your face only making it worse because you clearly found this all to be amusing.

The rest of the car ride continued with easy going banter, before you knew it Shizu was pulling into the driveway of the Shinazugawa family home. “Feeling better?” Sanemi whispered to you softly as his mom got out of the car to pop the trunk. “Yeah, but I’ll feel even better after we get this over with.” You chuckled nervously, seeing one of his siblings peek through the front window before disappearing again. Sanemi kissed your cheek before getting out of the car, you did the same, helping Shizu with your bags as you moved up the driveway. As expected, your introduction to his six little siblings was nothing short of a whirlwind. Though you couldn’t lie, you enjoyed getting to know them over the dinner the mother made. Genya had been the easiest to talk to due to his age, but before you knew it, the youngest of the Shinazugawa siblings was sleeping soundly with his head on your shoulder as you watched a movie with them all. Sanemi sat beside you on the couch, watching his siblings fondly as they talked to you rather than watch the movie. You answered each question with such patience, your hand open because Koto had fallen asleep holding it. Shizu had joked that he was trying to steal his big brother’s girlfriend.

It was just past midnight when Genya took Koto from you, the other siblings had gone up to bed a few minutes prior. “It was really nice meeting you, y/n.” Geyna smiled, cheeks rosy because he still got a bit nervous around girls according to Sanemi. “It was lovely meeting you too, Genya. I’m happy to spend the holidays with you all.” Genya turned bright red, earning a laugh from Sanemi as he bid the two of you goodnight and carried Koto to his room. “Well, it’s been an eventful day, do you wanna go to bed?” Sanemi smiled, his arm slinging over your shoulder now that Koto wasn’t hogging you. “I’m beyond tired, so yeah, sleep sounds amazing.” You laugh, snuggling closer to him. It was honestly the opposite of getting up, instead you both settled further into the couch with the tv droning on in front of you. It didn’t take long before your hands wandered, your legs moving to drape over Sanemi’s as he turned to kiss you. The arm he had slung over your shoulder moved to rest behind your head, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss. You allowed him, of course, feeling mildly inappropriate for doing such a thing on the couch in the living room of his family’s home.

You pulled away the moment his hand gripped your thigh, chest heaving. “N-not here. What if one of your siblings or your mother walks down here?” Your voice is barely above a whisper, noticing the way the light from the tv still manages to reflect off of the ball of his piercing. “You’re right… but my bedroom wall is shared with another one of my siblings… this is really the only place we can be a bit loud…” he groans, getting off of you just a bit so he can look at you better. “I-I’d rather try and be quiet than get caught in the act.” You would be booking yourself a train ticket home if one of his little siblings saw you two being intimate. “Alright fine, but you better be quiet.” Sanemi smirks at you as he gets up, “oh that’s a bold statement coming from you.” You snorted, getting up and turning the TV off before following him upstairs to his room. You had seen it already since you took some time after dinner to unpack your clothes and put them in Sanemi’s dresser. There was nothing for you to investigate as you stepped inside, shutting and locking the door with a soft click as Sanemi flicked on his bedside lamp. “Genya usually sleeps with a noise machine, so as long as we put some background noise on too…”

Sanemi was already pulling his shirt over his head as he spoke, watching as you sauntered to the dresser to find something to sleep in… or rather, you were looking for something to put on in the morning. “Background noise? Don’t tell me you’re going to put on music, that makes it all the more obvious.” You laugh softly, pulling your shirt over your head and shamelessly unclipping your bra, no need for extra distractions. “No, not music but…” Suddenly white noise was blasting through a small speaker and you found yourself bursting into a fit of laughter. “How sexy” you choked, dropping your pants and underwear at the same time. “Oh I know. My best work yet.” He was standing, making his way over to you as he pushed his sweats down. Your eyes flickered lower, smirking when you realized he was already hard. “You’re relentless.” you breathe out, his hands clinging to your waist as he presses you to the dresser, kissing you deeply. Sanemi smiles against your lips, stepping out of his pants and boxers that have pooled at his feet. “You know you love it.” Hoarse, just above a whisper despite the blaring white noise filling the room. You don’t bother answering, rather you push him gently so you can drop to your knees below him.

Your hand gingerly grabs his base, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip as he braces himself on the dresser. “Fuck…” He chokes out, eyes flickering up to the mirror before him, mildly upset he can’t see past his waist. Just your head is visible as you begin to lick along his shaft. “Remember you have to keep quiet.” You shoot him a wink before enveloping the head of his cock, watching his head fall forward as he chokes on his own moans. You let your jaw go slack, taking half of him before pulling away, using the saliva that wet him as a lubricant. You pumped him steadily, running your tongue along his slit, collecting the salty precum that oozed from it. You had gotten to know him well enough over the last month and a half to know exactly what he enjoyed. Naturally that meant it didn’t take all that long before he was grabbing your hair a bit harshly and tugging you off of him, cheeks flushed red as he tried to calm down. “N-not yet.” he sighed, moving towards the bed and motioning for you to follow. “Sit down.” he commanded you gently, watching you crawl onto the bed and lay flat instead. He chuckled a bit before opening his bedside drawer. “I know we said we wouldn’t exchange any gifts until we got home, but I bought something with me…” You sat up now, eyes narrowing as he pulled out a small pouch.

“What the fuck.” you laughed, catching the small velvet pouch and opening it carefully. Inside was a pill shaped tongue ring, immediately you understood. Your face grew warm, mouth hanging open slightly as you plucked it out. “No you fucking didn’t…” You took it out of the even smaller plastic bag and twisted it until it began to vibrate. “Sanemi oh my fucking–” You instantly turned it off, looking at him utterly flabbergasted. “Oh I fucking did.” He pulled it out of your hand, moving over to the dresser so he could use the mirror and take out his current tongue ring to replace it with the vibrating one. “You’re evil.” you groaned, body reacting tenfold to the idea of what was to come. He could only huff out a laugh as he stuck his tongue out, twisting the vibrating stud into place. “You’ll have to be very quiet.” He smirked, wiping the saliva off of his fingers. “You planned this…” You couldn’t believe it, not even as he crawled onto the mattress and pressed you backward until your head hit the pillows. “Oh of course I did, think of it as a reward for doing so well today, I’m proud of you, you know.” Your brows furrowed. “I appreciate it but this is such a strange time to get sentimental.” You watched his shoulders shake as he laughed, head burying in your neck to kiss it softly. He wouldn’t leave any hickeys in plain sight, at least not while you were staying here.

“Can’t help it.” He muttered between each kiss he placed, not getting rougher until he hit your chest. Your hands immediately grabbed his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as he bit down on your breast. You had come to learn that you enjoyed the pain it brought, along with the satisfaction of his teeth indents remaining for a couple days. He lapped at the skin he bit, kissing it gently as he moved to flick your nipple with his tongue. Part of you was tempted to say foreplay wasn’t needed, sucking him off as well as the revelation of his “present” were enough to have you dripping for him. “You know, we have to be careful because there is really no way to explain why we needed to immediately change your bedding after one night.” One hand moves up to thread itself through his hair while his tongue drags its way over to your other breast. Sanemi only hummed in agreement, debating whether or not he should turn the vibrating piercing on now while he teased you or let your anticipation build until the last second. In the end he decided to wait, you should get to experience it first hand where you wanted it most.

When he was satisfied with the markings he left on your chest, Sanemi placed another kiss on your lips before moving down to settle himself between your legs. You couldn’t bring yourself to look down in fear of the noises you knew you’d make, so you kept your eyes trained on the ceiling, mentally preparing yourself for what was to come. Sanemi’s tongue lapped at your inner thighs, pleased to see your arousal had already managed to smear across them. “You’re so excited, how cute.” It was so soft you barely heard it, but you still felt the need to find grounding in the sheets below you. You gripped them tightly, bracing yourself for the “final blow” of sorts. He cleaned you gingerly before placing open mouth kisses over your folds, eyes trained on the rise and fall of your chest as his tongue just barely swept across your cunt. He repeated these motions a couple of times, until your thighs spread further in an attempt to give him more. “Okay, pretty girl…” He gave you a slight warning before sticking his tongue out, twisting one end of the pill shaped tongue ring until it began to vibrate. Your breathing hitched at the sound, just audible enough to be heard through the white noise you had going.

Sanemi found the sensation to be a bit odd, his whole tongue felt like it was vibrating due to the small object. Though, it excited him at the same time, hands moving to hold your legs open as he carefully placed his mouth over your clit. His eyes remained locked on you as he pressed his tongue against your throbbing cunt. Your hand immediately smacked over your mouth as you gasped and moaned at the same time, the vibrations going straight through your body. When he didn’t move his tongue, you began to squirm, hand pressing tightly to your mouth as muffled moans and whimpers clawed their way out of you. Sanemi waited until he felt like you were about to come before pulling his tongue away and eagerly lapping at the rest of your cunt, purposely avoiding your clit until you were getting wetter with each pass of his tongue over your entrance. Your hand never let go of the sheets, nor did your other hand ever leave your mouth. Your thighs trembled at certain points with the effort of trying to close but Sanemi’s grip alone proved to be stronger than your trembling effort. It wasn’t until tears were leaking down your cheeks, your head tossed back as your moans grew louder even behind the muffling of your hand, that Sanemi gave in and paid more attention to your clit.

“I-I’m gonna… f-fuck.” You repeated the last word over and over, the build up in your gut growing almost too intense to handle as he pressed the pill shaped piercing directly on your clit and kept it in place. The vibrations paired with the wet warmth of his mouth proved to be a lethal combination. You nearly reached for the pillow behind you to muffle the loud sobs that wracked your body as you came on his tongue. Sanemi didn’t move away immediately, holding it in place still as the overstimulation grew to be almost painful. You began to sob, begging him in a voice just above a whisper to ease up but he didn’t. Your legs trembled, unable to fight against him considering he was far more stable than you were right now. After an agonizing few seconds, the overstimulation turned to pleasure again, your cunt twitching violently as a second orgasm arrived from the shockwaves of your first. You swore louder than you should have, stars spotting your vision as you came hard for the second time. “S-Sanemi please I’m fucking serious y-you…” But you couldn’t finish the sentence, not when he started wiggling his tongue before moving it away to lap up all the juices you had spilled.

The piercing was still vibrating as Sanemi’s tongue licked along your cunt, giving your clit a break as he teased you in other areas. You were breathing heavily as he used two fingers to spread you open, making it more accessible to push his tongue inside of you. While it couldn’t reach nearly as deep as his dick, the vibrations were making up for it. Your jaw immediately clenched, struggling desperately to keep the noises down as he began tongue fucking you. Your vision was growing blurry from the way your eyes began to water, Sanemi’s name leaving your lips in a quiet mantra as you forced yourself to remain quiet when you really wanted to scream. Yet the idea of being caught seemed to egg Sanemi on, his mouth was relentless as he ate you out like it was his last meal. As if he was trying to break you, make you scream and wake up the whole house. You began to squirm further as two fingers slipped in along with his tongue, the feeling itself was utterly indescribable. Calloused fingers ran along your heated walls, scissoring and pumping until they brought out wave after wave of your arousal with them. You had barely noticed the fact that Sanemis tongue had pulled away all together, watching in fascination as arousal pooled below you on his bedding. So much for keeping it clean… he found it satisfying.

The realization that his mouth wasn’t on you didn’t hit you until it had returned to your clit, your back arching off the mattress momentarily as he flicked his tongue over your sensitive clit. His fingers pumped endlessly, his tongue working in rhythm until you were slapping both hands over your mouth in effort to keep quiet as you came for a third time. Your body had gone completely stiff, back arching and your head tossed back as warm liquid gushed from between your thighs, only encouraged by Sanemi’s fingers. This time, Sanemi pulled away all together to give you a minute to come down. His fingers fumbled for a moment as he tried to turn off the small vibrating piercing, admiring the mess you had made on his bed. By the time your vision had returned to normal, you were looking up at Sanemi with lidded eyes. “You’re so evil.” Your voice is hoarse, hands shaking a bit as you push yourself up to see the damage. “Fuck…” Sanemi didn’t seem bothered at all, rather he was leaning down to crash his lips against yours, forcing you to taste your own arousal on his tongue. You moved closer, immediately drawn back into whatever trance he always managed to pull you into.

“How do you want me?” Sanemi sounded breathless as he pulled away, smiling down at you. “Like this please…” You turned away, positioning yourself shamelessly on your hands and knees for him. Sanemi groaned softly, he’d never get tired of seeing you like this, with nothing to hide or be ashamed of because it was just him. His hand immediately found his dick, pumping himself carefully to spread his precum, still a bit sensitive from the orgasm he had denied himself of early. His other hand came down to grip one side of your ass, kneading the flesh roughly. You whined loudly as the dull head of his cock pressed into you, your cunt welcoming him greedily with how wet he had made you. You chose this position strategically, pillows and his mattress were at your disposal to muffle your noises. Sanemi took his time, pushing inside of you inch by inch until your ass met his abdomen. It still took you a second to adjust, his head pressing tightly to your cervix, making you want to crawl forward a bit to relieve the pressure. Sanemi knew you well enough by now to hold your hip with his other hand, that way you couldn’t move. Sanemi is careful to not let his emotions get the better of him, you had done such a good job trying to remain quiet, now it was his turn to do the same.

He leaned forward, placing open mouth kisses down your spine before straightening again, hips drawing back half way before sliding forward again. He started slow, finding his rhythm in slow and deep thrusts. Your body rocks forward with each movement, until your shaky arms give out beneath you and you fall into the mattress. The position is even better in Sanemi’s eyes, his hands immediately grabbing either side of your hips to angle himself better. The slow drag was intoxicating to you, your mouth parted as quiet whimpers slipped past your lips, drool seeping out of the corner of your mouth as all your energy was focused on keeping your lower half up. Sanemi’s teeth sunk into his lower lip, face dusted pink as his head fell forward to watch himself disappear and reappear inside of you. You could feel him twitching, nearly in time with the way your body involuntarily clenched around him. Your whimpers turned into moans, half muffled by the way your face was pressed into the mattress, arousal dripping down your thighs. Sanemi was groaning despite his efforts to remain quiet, hips speeding up as his pleasure pulsed through him. He wasn’t going to last long at all but he wasn’t all that bothered by it.

“Sanemi…” You whined quietly, clit throbbing in need despite the stimulation you had been given. He caught on, hand snaking around your front and disappearing between your legs. You hissed as his fingers found your clit, rubbing it just as you had wanted him too but quickly reminded of how overstimulated you were. “Oh fuck…” You slurred, head burying in the mattress as you practically sobbed. Sanemi didn’t stop, biting down harder on his lower lip in effort to silence the noises he was making, but it was increasingly difficult with the noises emitting from you. The build up in your gut is becoming nearly unbearable, your hands clawing at the sheets as you cried out into the mattress below you. You came hard around him, walls stuttering around his length and interrupting his rhythm. Though it was the final push he needed, unable to contain himself as his hips drew half way out as he began to cum, shakily they pushed forward, bottoming out completely. His grip on your hips loosened, his muscles feeling like jelly as he moved to sit on his knees. You were pliant in his grasp, letting him guide you into a position that was comfortable for both of you until he felt like pulling out.

“We… we got carried away.” his tone is soft, for the first time since he turned it on, he noticed the white noise he was playing. You pulled your face from the mattress, shakily wiping your mouth as you tried to turn to look at him. “You think?” your voice is shaky, all you wanted was sleep at this point but there was one issue. “The bed is a wreck.” He comments softly, finally realizing how damp the comforter was beneath his knees. “That’s your fault, I warned you.” You grimace, there was no way you were going to be able to sleep feeling as sticky as you did. “You got me there…” he laughs softly, slowly pulling out as he goes soft. “I take full responsibility for giving you a good time.” You roll your eyes, body aching as you roll over and move to sit up. “I’m going to shower, you figure out the bed… and no joining me this time.” It had become a habit at this point for Sanemi to take care of the ruined bedding and then join you in the shower after. “Why not?” he whined, a pout forced on his lips as you glared at him. “May I remind you we are at your family’s home? With your mother and siblings?” You hissed, trying to remain serious but failing miserably when his cheeks turned pink. “Did you really forget that fast?”

“No! Shit okay maybe a little.” You roll your eyes, moving about the room to find something to cover yourself so you can walk down the hall to the bathroom. “Don’t forget to take out that piercing, it’s a bit obvious.” He laughs as you say that, watching as you throw his shirt over your head. “Yeah, yeah I know. I’ll take care of everything but if we aren’t sharing a shower, make sure you’re quick.” It was his last little dig to maybe convince you to let him join. Instead you just nod, uttering a quiet “You got it, captain.” before heading out the door. You make your way down the hall, wondering quietly how he would be able to get new bedding on the bed without raising suspicions from his mother in the morning.

Naturally, you figured it would be impossible and the small woman would tease you endlessly. The thought had heat rushing to your cheeks as you flicked the lights on and shut the door behind you. It took you a second but you managed to figure out the shower, setting it to a comfortable temperature before moving towards the bathroom closet. Sure enough, the closet was stocked with towels of various colors and some even had designs printed on them. That made you chuckle, especially when you noticed a few famous cartoon characters on some. How cute.

You pulled a towel out of the closet and set it on the bathroom counter, carefully pulling Sanemi’s shirt over your head and dropping it in the hamper. You had to admit, showering alone was quite lonely but it cut your time in half. You managed to scrub your skin clean, wash your hair and condition within fifteen minutes. By the time you stepped out and wrapped the towel around your body, Sanemi was knocking at the door. “Shit I wasn’t fast enough.” His tone was a whisper, making you laugh softly as you pulled the bathroom door open. “Better luck next time.” You pat his shoulder as you walk past him, ignoring his little huff as you re-enter his bedroom.

The bed was made with a new comforter, tucked half way down so you could just slip into it. You placed your towel on the dresser, moving to put on a t-shirt and underwear before towel drying your hair the best you could. You were practically throwing yourself down onto the bed, laughing softly when you realized the white noise was still playing. You managed to stay awake until Sanemi returned, hair damp as he went through his dresser to put on a pair of boxers. You watched with half lidded eyes as he placed the novelty piercing back in the back and put his regular one back in. “Do you want to keep the white noise on?” He looked amused as you nod.

Sanemi turned off the lights before crawling into bed beside you, chuckling softly as he realized how small the bed was compared to the one in your shared apartment. Not that you really minded, immediately rolling over to wrap your arms around his midsection lazily. Your legs tangled together, his arm snaking under your head while the other found its home over your waist. “What did you end up doing with your bedding?” you question softly, sleep pulling at your mildly aching body. “I put it in the wash, which may just be more damning for us in the morning but hopefully my Ma is the only one to catch on.” He chuckles softly, as you groan.

“What a great first impression.” you snort into his chest, unable to stop your smile when you feel his chest rumble under your cheek. “Oh please, you can do no wrong in her eyes, she loves you.” You couldn’t deny that, after less than a day being in her presence, Shizu was already like a mom to you. “I suppose you’re right.” You hum lazily, eyes closing as sleep drags you further down. “Good night, pretty girl.” Sanemi whispered softly, feeling your body relaxing into him. “G’night, lover boy.” just barely audible, as if your mind was working on autopilot. Sanemi smiled, eyes shutting as well, enveloped in the warmth you and his childhood bedroom had to offer.

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mismatched-sockss · 3 months

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You're my future, past and present

» Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader » Word count: 6,4k » Warnings: spoiler mentioned for 9x23 Angels / 9x24 Demons, Spencer's POV, exes to lovers, set after s15, anxious!Spencer, reader feels guilty at one point, language? (one 'bitch' from reader to reader), mentions of past fights, minor misunderstandings, random old lady plays cupid <3, fluff, kissing, how many phrases for being in love can one pack in two paragraphs? me: yes., » A/N: my brain is on strike for finishing bingo fics for some reason, it instead gave us this so yay!, i'm still working on those of course but i can't tell when i will get the next one done (in the words of one Penelope Garcia: Why do the last 10% always take the longest?), hopefully by the end of the week; it's lightly implied that reader can get pregnant in the beginning but it's not explicitly said (only mentions of kids), which is the reason i tagged it as fem but no mentions of anything body related or any pronouns (i think so, please let me know if i missed pronouns), so it might as well can be read as gn; no body description --- pls take a look here for more info about my reader descriptions in general

⚶ masterlist ⚶

He should have asked Penelope for a favour to look you up, before he came here. He had no idea how your life had changed in all these years he hadn't seen you or if you even wanted to see him again. It didn't particularly sound like it the last time he saw you.

You could be happily married with kids for all he knew. The thought alone almost made him turn around without even knocking on your door. He didn't know what he would do if this was the case. Or maybe you didn't even live here any more, you could have moved; to the other side of the city, to another state. Another country. You had toyed with the idea to move to Scotland back then, it very well could be that you had acted on it.

Too much time had past, five whole years – five years, three months, twenty-one days and eleven hours, forty-two minutes to be exact; but who was counting, right? – and there was too much history, too much heartbreak. Too many reasons why it hadn't worked out.

The main – and kind of only – ones being his job at the BAU and everything that came with it. The travelling and never being home, not even a free day or annual leave really meant not getting called in, the late nights, the worries that he could get hurt and may not be coming back home, the worries when he got hurt.

You had your reasons to break it off and he still thought that you were right to do so. He never held it against you, never resented you for leaving. Because he understood. If the roles would have been reversed, he may would have made the same decisions.

This whole idea was stupid. Why was he even here. He should just leave.

What did he think would happen when you saw him? That showing up out of nowhere – with no contact since the break up, not even a single text message – and having a 'new' job would change everything and would make you jump back into his arms in an instant like nothing happened? Yeah... Sure...

Maybe, deep down and in the tiniest crack of his heart, he didn't even want you to open the door; didn't want to see your reaction to him just showing up and the inevitable rejection that would surely come. He was sabotaging himself, really. And if he would be more honest to himself, he'd knew that. Maybe he did, but just didn't want to see it.

Spencer had been pacing back and forth in front of your door for an eternity by now; walking closer to it and already lifting his hand to knock, but changing his mind before his fingers even came close and he was walking a few feet away to leave, only to change his mind again and repeat the whole ordeal. Over. And over. And over.

He just couldn't make his mind up, he didn't know what to do. It shouldn't be this hard to knock on a door. Especially yours. But maybe it was this hard for him because it was yours.

At one point, he, a man of science, even asked the universe to give him a sign, to show him what he should do; if he should do it or if he should go.

That's when it happened.

Right after, as he was walking closer to the door again, he tripped over his own damn feet and he ended up kicking the door with his shoe; not hard, but audible enough.

Shit. Not the sign he was looking for. A pedestrian screaming something outside that he could twist into an answer, a car honking when he either was close to the door or walking away; hell, even a spam mail popping up on his phone that had a certain word in the subject line... No, it had to be this way.

Now he had to knock.

Taking a shaky breath, he hit his knuckles against the wood a couple of times and started fidgeting with his fingers as soon as he had lowered his hands. His heart was in his throat as he waited anxiously. His mind in a constant battle of 'please be home' and 'please don't be home'.

A moment later – both too short and too long at the same time – the door opened just a crack and it was really you standing there. Not some random person that would tell him you moved. You.

You didn't turn your head just yet, looking back over your shoulder instead, you held out your arm behind you and said “Stay there” in a soft voice to someone behind you. When you turned you blocked the entrance with your body and kept your left hand on the door.

Your eyes grew wide when you saw him. Spencer probably was about the last person you would have expected to see when you opened the door. He couldn't bring himself to break the silence first, didn't dare to speak.

“Oh, hey... Uh-”, you stammered looking for words, blinking in confusion. For a moment you opened and closed your mouth, and he knew you were hating that you looked like a fish out of the water, before you gave up and just settled for another “Hi.”

“Hi.” He hated how shaky his voice sounded. He cleared his throat and averted his eyes for a moment, looking down at his hands and the floor before he met your gaze again.

“Wow, it- it's been a while.”

“Yeah...”

“How long 's it been? Five years?”

“Five years, three months and twenty-one days.” Spencer pressed his lips together before he could blurt out the hours and minutes as well.

You laughed – not mean, but endearing – and the sound combined with the smile that spread on your lips made his heart leap. “Right.”

God, how much he had missed your laugh; how much he had missed you. Now that you stood before him, it became evident, that all the longing and yearning he had felt in the past years had been nothing more than a fraction of what he was really feeling; repressed by throwing himself into work and keeping his mind off you as much as he could.

His love for you never went away, never dulled even the slightest bit, and seeing you now was almost too overwhelming for him, his feelings for you crashing over him, nearly sweeping him off his feet.

“Uhm, I was just about to go to the park with Cleo”, you started, shooting a look over your shoulder and Spencer's heart dropped. He could have sworn it stopped beating for a few seconds as well. The Stay there hadn't rung any alarms in his mind, it could have been said to any person really. Going to the park with Cleo however...

He really should have asked Penelope to look you up before he came. You had a kid.

And since he could only see the heel of your left hand and not your fingers, he couldn't be a hundred percent sure, but there was a high chance there was a ring on your finger.

“Oh, I'm sorry to hold you up. I'll just, uhm-”, he stammered choked up and pointed his thumbs over his shoulder, taking a step back, about to turn away and leave.

“No”, you exclaimed, maybe a bit too quickly and panicked, as you held out your right hand like you wanted to reach for his arm; even making a small step out of the door. “You don't have to leave. You could- uh, you could come with us? If you want to.” If he wouldn't know better, he'd say there was a pleading look in your eyes, begging him to say yes and stay.

His mouth opened, but no words came out, no matter how hard he tried. He didn't even know what he wanted to say.

'Yes sure, let's go to the park with your daughter and rip my heart into pieces seeing and hearing about you living the life I dreamt of having with you, with another man'.

A plain 'No.' would be too rude, wouldn't it? Even if he would add a 'thank you' at the end, it didn't feel right.

“She uh- she likes meeting new people, she's really open; sometimes I'm afraid she'll walk off with anyone. Come here, girl.” You looked over your shoulder again and tapped your flat hand against your thigh a couple of times, then some clicking and scratching could be heard behind you on the parquet floor.

The speckled snout of an Australian Shepherd pushed in the space between your knee and the door, then tried to push through further after seeing Spencer. With a laugh you took a hold of the collar and held the dog back from running out.

“Cleo, stay.” You squatted down next to her, petting her head and scratched behind her ear. ”I have to warn you, she can be a bit rough when she gets excited.” A wide smile was on your face as you looked up at Spencer. “I've been trying to teach her to not jump up on everyone she meets, but it doesn't stick.”

Just like that, he felt like he could breathe again. Cleo wasn't your daughter but your dog and the ring you were indeed wearing on your left hand was one he recognized from your jewellery box.

A relieved chuckle left his lips and he mirrored your position. He held out his hand for Cleo to smell before he touched her. She really was excited; she was pulling against your hold and tried to get closer, her tail was waggling so hard her whole body moved in the rhythm and she nudged her nose against his palm hard after a short sniff, so he would pet her.

You did your best to hold her back, but after Spencer verbally said hi to her and was petting her on both sides of her head she surged forward; your hand slipped from the collar and Cleo threw her whole weight against him, making him loose balance and topple over.

With an outstretched arm he held himself up, laughing, as your dog rubbed her head against his torso and hand and was spinning around a couple of times between his legs, repeatedly leaning herself into him with every turn.

“Cleo!” Your voice had a warning tone to it that hadn't fully replaced your laugh though, not until she let out a small bark and started to lick over his face. “No! Stop!” You pulled her away and moved her back into the apartment; Cleo only reluctantly complied.

Before he could react, you shuffled closer on your knees until you kneeled right before him and in between his legs. You reached out and started to wipe the side of his face clean; the sleeve of your sweater pulled over your fingers. “I'm so sorry, she's usually not that excited. I have never seen her do this to someone that isn't me.”

He froze when you got close and he felt your touch, every soft stroke leaving behind a trail of fire, even with the thin fabric barrier between you. One would think his heart couldn't pound any faster in his chest than it already had since he had laid eyes on you again, but it did.

“It's- hu, it's okay”, he stammered as he was watching you intensely, with wide eyes.

“No, it's not”, you said softly and took his chin between your thumb and index finger, slightly tilting his head to the side as you tried to get everything off. “Do you want a wet wipe or something? You can come in and wash your face if you'd prefer that.”

Spencer couldn't help the smile stretching on his lips, his heart warming over the fact that you were still looking out for him, after all these years; after everything that had happened and all the things that had been said the day you broke up with him. His hand moved on its own accord and he wrapped his hand around your wrist, stopping you. “Really, it's okay.”

You met his gaze, heat rising in your cheeks and it was like you only now realized how close the both of you were sitting and that you were touching him. For a second you froze, your eyes wide. Then, after a deep breath, you pulled back to bring some distance between you and cleared your throat, looking away.

He could tell there was an apology forming on your tongue, but you swallowed it down. You began to nervously fidget with the hem of your sleeve and cleared your throat. “So, uh, do you want to come with us? There is this coffee shop on the way that opened about six months ago and they're really good, we- we could grab a coffee and catch up...?”

“I'd really like that.”

It was easy, talking to you. The initial awkwardness and anxiety he had been feeling had quickly faded and the both of you were talking as freely and open as before, like no time had passed; and he was incredibly grateful for it. Neither of you had been going to personal topics for now though – the closest thing to personal in a deeper sense was when you asked about his mom –, the both of you had been talking more about everything and anything.

[..] Did you end up getting that book collection you had your eyes on? - When did you get Cleo? - Oh, do you remember my coworker Grace? All the rumours really were true! - Is your neighbour still vacuuming solely in the middle of the night? [..]

About halfway to the park you stopped at the café you had mentioned and while you were waiting in line, you told him about the different coffee varieties they offered; the flavours, how strong they were, how sweet, the seasonal ones. You had drunk your way through the list three times and until you decided on your Top 5.

He crinkled his nose in adoration as he was listening to you rambling about the coffee – what you liked about each one and why you didn't like another – totally engrossed by you; you had done this in the past as well and it made Spencer happy that you still were. It was adorable. He wondered, if you still wrote down your Top 5's in that little notebook you had always kept in your purse.

The one you recommended to him was really good, you had met his taste precisely; the perfect amount of sweetness just how he liked it, and with a hint of vanilla and cinnamon.

There were many occasions he was about to reach for your hand, it was almost instinctually when you were this close to him. He didn't know if you would let him, if you would want it. So Spencer didn't. Instead he buried his hand deep into the pocket of his coat to keep himself from reaching for you, holding a tight grip on an old pack of gum he forgot was even in there.

Throughout the whole way from your apartment to the park, Cleo was happily dancing around you, just shy of making one of you trip over her. That she didn't circle around the both of you to wrap the leash around your legs – all '101-Dalmatians'-like – was all.

After you arrived at the park you walked a bit further in until you came to a fenced area that seemed to be reserved for dogs for them to freely run around without having to be leashed. As soon as you unhooked the leash from Cleo's collar she dashed forward, joining a group of dogs playing.

Spencer and you sat down on a bench and just sat in comfortable silence for a moment, watching her. His hands got clammy as he got nervous because of the proximity, and he tried to wipe them on his pants as discreetly as he could. You were sitting so close to him, your thighs and shoulders were almost touching; he could feel the warmth radiating from your body and with every soft breeze the smell of your shampoo got carried over.

“So, uh... How have you been?”, you asked after a few minutes.

He huffed out a small laugh and licked over his lips. Where should he even begin. “Long story short? Not good then somewhat okay, bad, worse, better, okay.”

"Sounds like one hell of a roller coaster."

Oh you had no idea how much. And 'hell' sounded about right to be honest. "You could say that... How about you?"

"Wasn't much going on for me to be honest. I've been... okay? After some time at least...”, you admitted nervously, following Cleo with your eyes. “Everything alright at the BAU? How is everyone?”

“Good, they're good.” Spencer started telling you about all the changes within the team, but he left out all the bad stuff for now – he told you about Alex leaving, about Tara joining after practically a 36 hour long job interview for the open position, JJ and Will having a second child, that Morgan left and had married Savanah and that they had a son as well, Garcia vehemently trying – but ultimately failing – to hate the newbie Luke.

“Rossi got married last year.”

“Really? Again?” You let out a soft laugh.

“He re-married his third wife actually. They got back together after-” He had to stop for a second and swallowed hard as the spark of hope was reigniting in his chest. If Dave and Krystall had found their way back to each other after thirty years and made it work, five years didn't sound all that bad in retrospective. He tried to play it off like he was trying to remember the exact number of years. “Around three decades, I think.”

“Wow... That's a lot of time..”

“It is.” For a short moment Spencer didn't say anything more, trying to muster up the courage to tell you he left the team as well.

“And I- uh” He huffed out a small laugh, nervous, and let his gaze wander over the meadow. There he goes... “I'm not- I'm not with the BAU any more, actually.”

“...Oh”

For a moment you didn't say anything else and his heart beat faster. He couldn't a hundred percent gauge what your silence meant. What the oh meant. Did you care? Were you relieved or maybe even sad for him? Could – would – it change anything between you, even after all this time? Would you give the both of you a second chance? Him?

Hope started to rise up again in his chest and he tried to stop it and keep it at bay, so it wouldn't take over him; it would only crush him even more to lose you a second time if he'd let it happen. Spencer's breathing became more shallow and slightly faster as he waited for you to say more.

He could just turn his head to look at your face of course, study your expressions to get his answer without you saying another word. He didn't. Something held him back; maybe it was only because he was respecting your wishes from years ago not to profile you. Maybe it was fear of what he would see.

He heard you clear your throat and when you spoke, your voice was shaking, almost undetectable however. If you wouldn't sit so close to him – and if it wouldn't be you and he wouldn't be him – one probably wouldn't have noticed. “Why not?”

“Re-assignment due to budget-cuts or something like that. There were a couple of people higher up the food chain than Emily that had it out for us for a couple of years now.” His eyes followed Cleo sprinting over the grass, chasing and playing with the other dogs.

“Emily is back?”, you asked. The last thing you knew was that she had left for London not long after she came back from the dead.

“Yeah, she took over from Hotch after-” He stopped himself.

Telling you about Hotch and Scratch and why Emily fully became Unit Chief of the BAU, meant he had to tell you about everything else; everything that had happened to him. He just wasn't ready for this yet. This would have to be a story for another day; for both your and his sake.

“Anyway, I uh- I'm teaching now. Full-time. Mostly at the academy and some colleges here and there. But all in all-” Spencer took a deep breath. “Fixed work hours and no travelling for longer than a day.”

Only when he felt you tense up did he bring himself to look at you. You were sitting up with a straight back, eyebrows furrowed, lips slightly pursed. Your eyes were darting around and he watched a muscle twitch on your jaw.

He quickly looked away again, concentrating on Cleo again, before he could read you more. He couldn't help it, it was hard not to and turn it off. By now profiling was in his blood, it was a subconscious habit he couldn't always control, it just happened. You didn't want to get profiled, so he did what he could do to not use his profession on you. If it meant turning away and not look at you, even if he was only looking just to see you, he'd do it.

Also, he knew that he was biased; another reason why he shouldn't. What he would see and read would not be accurate. Usually, this was not a problem, he could read body language and micro-expressions with a 99,42% accuracy, since he'd do it with a neutral stand. But right now it was personal.

What ever Spencer would see in your non-verbal communication, he was too involved to not let his judgement get clouded by his feelings for you, his hopes and his fears. He would only see what he wanted to see, or what he not wanted to see, depending on which part of his heart was winning at the moment; the confident and hopeful part, or the insecure and anxious part.

“That's... That's nice. Do you like it?” He wished, he knew what you were thinking right now. Your tone didn't give much away on how you were feeling, but you seemed a bit more relaxed to him.

“Yeah, it's fun. There are some key topics on the curriculum I have to cover of course, but other than that I have pretty much full reign over the subject matters. Learning is more fun when it is about something you're really interested in, so I take suggestions from my students for a lot of the lectures. It's been paying off already.” He smiled proudly. “They contribute more and most grades have gone up.”

Slowly, the longer you talked as the evening proceeded and the sun slowly began to set, he let himself go, allowed his heart to open up and he welcomed the prospect of having you back in his life – to what ever extent it may be, even if only as a friend if that was what you wanted.

His heart had leaped when you shared you weren't seeing anyone and it hadn't slowed down it's pace ever since. Both of you had been talking and asking about it in the most complicated and conspicuously inconspicuous ways one can ask 'are you dating someone?'.

Not only this, but you wanted to spent more time with him. Spencer couldn't believe his luck. It was almost too good to be true and he feared he might wake up from this wonderful dream any minute.

He could tell how nervous you were when you asked him; hands and voice shaking, fingers fidgeting with Cleos leash in your lap, your eyes not daring to meet his.

"Tonight is this big bonfire at the Benson's farm, you know, the one with the apple orchard? I was thinking of going and.. maybe if you- I mean, if you are free tonight and want, uh- Would you like to go with me?"

There was nothing he'd rather do, nowhere he'd rather be.

After a short stop at your apartment to bring Cleo home and for the both of you to freshen up, you made your way to the farm. It was a fairly short drive and the roads were mostly empty as it got later, a bright full moon illuminating the way now.

When you arrived, there weren't too many people present. It felt more like a large family gathering than a big event. At a decent distance were benches placed around the huge bonfire, there was a tent where various beverages and a few food options were served. Next to it stood a truck from the fire department and an ambulance; a precaution if the fire got out of control or someone got hurt.

The air smelled of smoke and burning wood, french fries, beer and Mrs. Benson's home made apple pie.

Sorry, Mr. Benson's apple pie as Spencer learned some time after you arrived. You introduced him to the hosts and you started to talk about a new recipe for the pie filling you had tried to make and Mr. Benson explained what he would have done different than the recipe you found had stated.

The Benson's were nice people – he had met them once when he had accompanied you to the farm to get apples and honey. You had gotten closer to them since then, dropping by to help them out from time to time, especially when it was time for the harvest.

He had to catch his breath as his heart fluttered, his eyes glued to your face as he watched you talk with old man Benson. The way your eyes wrinkled at the corners when you smiled and the excited glint in your eyes, how the fire painted beautiful orange patterns on your face as the flames danced high, fuelled by the soft breeze; combined with the silvery light of the full moon shining bright. You looked ethereal.

Spencer became increasingly aware of said man's wife and her three friends, who stood a little farther away. The women were whispering to each other and kept looking over, one of them not so subtlety pointing at the both of you. They weren't talking badly, not at all; they were smiling and giggling as they were talking, nodding at what the other ones were saying, swooning with their hands over their hearts from time to time.

It could only mean one thing – and he wasn't sure if he should be embarrassed about it, or not: that he all too obviously for everyone around looked as love struck as he felt; utterly bewitched by your beauty, completely head over heels, truly madly and deeply in love with you in every way, a total goner who was worshipping the ground you were walking on.

Thank god for the warm shine of the fire, or they would be able to see the blush rising up his neck in this moment as well... He just was glad that he had finished his piece of pie before this, otherwise he'd probably stand here with an open mouth and the fork frozen in mid air as he was looking at you. Now, that would have been a good picture.

What he didn't know though, was that they weren't just talking about the smitten look on his face, but yours as well. The longing glances you shot his way whenever he wasn't looking, how you were orbiting around him like the earth around the sun, a magnetic pull to each other that not even the both of you seemed to realise you had as you unconsciously stepped closer to the other when you stood too far apart. They talked about the fact, that you looked at Spencer with such a happy and beaming smile they hadn't seen on your face in a long time.

And that they could tell how hesitant and shy the both of you were about getting closer.

It's not like he didn't want to, believe me. The urge to hold your hand or wrap his arms around you – to kiss you – was still burning in every fibre of his body and it got more and more challenging to hold back, the longer he was around you. Leaving out the tiny part in him that was still afraid of getting rejected, he didn't want to impose on you by acting on it. He didn't want to possibly make you uncomfortable, so he left it to you to initiate any physical contact.

Admittedly, this was very much a bad plan if you were doing the same and were waiting for him to make the first move. However, the universe seemed to take matters in its own hands again.

Spencer had to remove himself from of the situation for a moment to restore some of his composure and not ogle you non-stop; especially not in front of all these people. He let you know that he would get the both of you something to drink and asked what he should get for you; when he came back, Mr. Benson had left.

For some time you stayed close to the fire, until he saw you lift your hand to fan yourself some air. “Too warm?”

You let out a small laugh and smiled at him. “Yeah, it starts getting a bit too much.”

He took the now empty cup from you and with a tilt of his head he signalled you to follow him. He gave the cups back to the person behind the make-shift bar counter and you walked a little farther away, putting some distance between you and both the tent and the fire. And the people too actually, the majority had gathered close around the flames in small groups.

“That's much better”, you sighed. “I like a nice fire as much as the next pers- oh.”

Before you could finish, you lost your balance when a body collided with yours from behind. You stumbled forward and Spencer instinctively reached out to catch you – he got a hold of your arms with a firm grip on them right above your elbows as you fell into him, bringing up your own hands to hold onto his shoulders.

“Oh, dear, I am so sorry, I must have tripped over something. Are you okay?”, the voice of a woman came from behind you.

Neither of you let go of the other as you turned to face her. Spencer recognized her as one of the women that had talked with Mrs. Benson earlier and the look on her face told a whole different story than her words; that she wasn't sorry at all and that it had been deliberately planned to bump into you.

“I'm okay, no worries. Are you?”, you asked her and quickly scanned her for injuries.

“Ooh, I'm good. I'm good...”, she replied, almost in a sing-sang kind of tone and a wide smile on her lips. She snickered softly and walked away, her hand raised with a lazy kind of flick in her wrist as a wave good-bye.

The both of you watched her walk away, baffled.

“Okayyy”, you let out as you kept your eyes on her for a moment longer. “As long as she didn't twist her ankle or something.”

You turned your head, and just like earlier in front of your apartment, it seemed like you only just now realised the position you were in when your eyes met his. How close you were and that you were still holding on to each other.

Only this time, you didn't pull away.

The world around him seemed to fade away, time standing still, as he held your gaze. Your breath hitched and when his eyes flickered down to your lips, Spencer felt your grip on him tighten, subconsciously pulling him closer to you. His heart was in his throat and it beat so loud that he was sure you were able to hear it. He let his eyes wander back up and when he saw that you were looking at his lips as well, he threw all caution in the wind and just... did it.

He let go of your elbows, took your face in his hands and leaned in, hovering his lips over yours for a short moment to give you an out, to give you time to pull away, but you didn't; instead you closed the small space that was left between you.

A long and deep sigh rumbled in the back of his throat when your lips met and he pulled you closer; as you leaned into him, your hands moved higher until your fingers were tangled in his hair, slightly tugging on it.

When you pulled back – more than reluctantly, but the both of you were still in public – , you were panting, your breaths mingling as your faces were still so close to each other. Spencer kept his eyes closed for a moment longer, not quiet ready to open them yet, afraid that when he did, he would wake up from an incredibly vivid dream.

“I'm sorry”, you suddenly choked out, which made him open his eyes in an instant. Tears were streaming down your face and you took a step back, keeping him at arms length. “I am so sorry, Spencer.”

“Hey, what's wrong? Talk to me, please.” Your emotions had changed so suddenly, he didn't know what happened, what made you cry. He wasn't sure what he should do, how he could help you calm down.

“I'm sorry”, you repeated, shaking your head.

“What for?” Did you regret letting him get close to you again; kissing him? Did you regret, that you hadn't just closed the door right in his face as soon as you had seen him this afternoon?

“Everything!” you choked out. “For how I acted all the time and for leaving like that, for leaving when I did. That I didn't contact you even once. For saying all those things, it wasn't fair. It never was. You didn't deserve it. I was so mean for no reason...” You sniffled and wiped the back of your hand under your nose. “I regretted every word the moment I said it, I didn't mean any of it. I couldn't stop talking and it was like I was losing control over myself and it all just came out and-....”

“Hey, I know...” Spencer took a small step closer to you. “In that moment it hurt, yes. And it took a lot of time until it stopped hurting; sometimes it still does. But I get it. You were scared. Some people get angry and lash out at the people around them when they are scared, especially directed at the person they are scared for; everyone reacts different. It's a totally normal reaction, I don't blame you.“

A sob came over your lips, your face twisting in pain. “Please don't be like that...”

His brows furrowed, a short and sharp pain in his chest. “Like what?”, he breathed out.

“So understanding... I acted like a total bitch to you! You should hate me... Why don't you hate me?” Your voice broke and got smaller with every word.

The corners of his mouth slightly raised to the whisper of a smile and Spencer closed the distance between you, lifting his hands to cup your cheeks. He wholeheartedly meant what he said next; there was not one thing he could think of that would change anything about it.

“I could never hate you.”

“You were shot. You needed me and left you alone and-”

“I've had worse. Before that day in Texas and certainly after”, he trailed off and softly shook his head when your brows furrowed even more, pain and fear so evidently in your eyes; he could tell that you knew he wasn't talking about anything related to the break-up.

“It's okay, I'm okay.” Spencer brushed your tears away, holding your face so gently in his hands as if you'd break into a million pieces if he wasn't careful enough. By the looks of it, you may very well would. Not a risk he was willing to take.

You opened your mouth to say something, but he stopped you from asking what had happened after, by placing his thumb over your lips. “Not tonight.” Gently, he brushed his thumb over your bottom lip to the corner of your mouth. “We'll talk about it all and I will tell you everything, I promise. Just.. not tonight, okay?”

He wanted to stay in that little bubble you had created a little longer and ignore everything else but the feeling of having you back in his arms, being able to kiss and hug and touch you again, he just wanted to revel in your presence and your love. Everything else could wait; the guilt, the talking it out, the pain and especially all the bad stuff he had held back.

You pulled him closer by the collar of his jacket until there was no room left between you. For a second you fought with yourself, your eyes darting back and forth between his like you were looking for something in his gaze before you acted on what you wanted to do. Then-

“I love you.”

Before he could say, think or do anything else, Spencer dove down and pressed his lips against yours, smiling widely into the kiss. His heart was racing and he felt like a huge burden had fallen from his shoulders that he didn't even know he had been carrying. When he pulled back he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed. “I love you.”

He couldn't hold back his own soft laugh when he heard you giggle happily before you said: “I can't believe you still want me...”

“It's you. It's always been you and it always will be you.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #ghosts can write #💜 s.r.#--- mismatched🧦

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sweetestcaptainhughes · 2 months

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Moments in Time - Quinn Hughes Edition

Word Count - 2300

Summary - The eight times Quinn Hughes showed his love through the ring camera that he didn’t even want in the first place.

Warnings - none pure fluff I know a true shocker if you aren't new here

Author's Note: Hello everyone as always thank you for reading. This is apart of a "Moments in Time" series that I wrote eight moments each of the Hughes brothers. The fics are individual stand alone pieces, they can be read in any order, or you could only read the one brother you want.

Jack Hughes Edition. Luke Hughes Edition.

I have to give credit to my girl Kay @icebound-imagination for not only helping come up with the original idea! But literally stayed up late one night to help me detail plan all three Hughes brothers fics because I didn't want any repeated ideas. Kay also wrote some of the concepts and hers are noted as "Kendra's Version."

Main Masterlist

When you mentioned to Quinn the first time that you wanted to get a ring doorbell he gave you that famous “what the fuck” Quinn Hughes look. But then when you told him about how you really just wanted it in Vancouver because of how much time you spent completely alone in the apartment. To this day, you swear you’ve never heard Quinn agree to anything so fast. Truthfully you just wanted to watch your neighbor’s new puppy growth. But you knew that if there is anyone who hates you having to be completely alone for so long with no family around it’s Quinn. So really it was best of both worlds, Quinn felt more at ease with the ring camera and you got to watch the next door neighbor be ridiculously cute everyday on the way to their walks.

Early Morning Goodbyes

Quinn had to leave early many times throughout the season. Although he always kissed you goodbye on the cheek, because you were still deep in sleep you both knew you wouldn’t remember it. Learning this after the first time he did kiss you goodbye before leaving for a roadie and you didn’t remember it at all. To say you were mad at Quinn for not saying goodbye, you gave him the silent treatment for two whole days, only to discover you were the one in the wrong.

So the next time he had to leave home early due to an early flight for a roadie or hell, even an early morning skate. Of course he still kissed your cheek and whispered his goodbyes. But he started saying bye on the ring because he knew that way you’d see it when you were actually a functionable human being to society and would remember it.

2. Getting a notification

The main reason that Quinn agreed to getting a ring was because of how you said that you would feel safer when he was on long roadies. The first time that you came home from work and he was on a roadie, he was waiting for the notification to come on his phone. As soon as it popped up he clicked on it quickly, ignoring his teammates and the movie they had playing in the background. “Hi baby.” he said softly he didn’t wanna startle you. After a long day all you wanted to do was crawl into bed, “hi Quinny” immediately hearing his voice and feeling better.

“What are you doing? Aren’t you supposed to be doing some team bonding?” Resting your forehead against your doorbell but looking directly at the camera.

“Oh I am Barbie is playing right now it was Brock’s turn to pick.” A soft laugh leaves both your lips at Quinn’s comment, your laugh continues when you hear Brock in the background telling him to “fuck off.” Quickly Quinn tells you that he’s gotta go but he will text you.

That was the first night you guys had a full blown conversation through your ring camera when he was on a roadie. But it became a little tradition every night when you got home if Quinn was out of town. Even if at the time he was in the middle of a game or an interview, everyday you would ring the doorbell and say “Quinny I’m home.”

3. Drop the attitude

Quinn and you didn’t fight often but when you did it was usually something serious. Today was not one of those cases, it was just one of those days where you were in a bad mood all day and you couldn’t pin point why. But every little thing Quinn was doing was getting on your nerves, to the point of you wanting to scream. From procrastinating on unloading the dishwasher, to being indecisive about what he wanted for breakfast. By the time you were trying to take a nap and he was yelling on Facetime with Jack and Luke you had hit your breaking point.

Storming into the living room and telling Quinn that he needed to leave the apartment because you needed time alone before you went insane. Quinn told his brothers he’d call them back and hung up. He tried to ask you what was wrong but you insisted that you needed him to leave. So he left but not without leaving a message on the ring camera.

“I don’t know where this attitude is coming from, baby. But what do you need for it to go away? Like do we need food? Are you hangry? Do you need cuddles and some quiet time? Cause whatever you need imma give it to you if you drop the attitude. Cause I don’t like when you want to kill me.”

4. Celebrating

Every home game that you went to it wasn’t unusual for you to uber from the apartment to the stadium. But you would always wait until Quinn was ready to leave to go home to the game. Tonight there was a home game and you were planning on going. But this week has been so long at work, you were debating on just watching it on T.V, ultimately you did decide to take an uber to the game. Never have you been so happy to not miss out on a game live. It was an insane game that turned out to be a shutout with no other than baby goalie as starter.

Quinn and you both decided to go to the local bar to celebrate with the team and other wags. After Quinn had 2 beers, and you lost track of the amount of rum and cokes Petey was giving you. Quinn decided it was time to call it a night. Once you got home, your not sure if it was the alcohol you both consumed or just still on a high from the game. But Quinn insisted on practically sprinting down the hallway to your apartment while you cheered about the game. Quinn has never felt so lucky the night when the ring camera was able to catch such an intimate private moment that neither of you would have remembered that morning without the video proof.

5. Playing pranks - Kendra’s Version

You had just settled onto the couch, a warm bowl of popcorn balanced in your lap as your phone screen lit up. You picked it up and checked to see you had a notification from the front door’s security camera. It was Friday night, which meant you weren’t getting any deliveries and your husband, Quinn, was home in the shower.

Curiously you click into the app, seeing what the footage showed. And it wasn’t much. But what you could see was some blonde hair and a toque. You knew exactly who that hair and that hat belonged to. What on earth was he doing?

Your finger hovered over the screen as you decided what to do about your husband’s teammate when the camera showed a flash of a stylish jacket, one that was definitely not the style of the blond hair and toque wearing teammate. Which meant his literal partner in crime was with him. And then it was like someone smashed their finger onto a fast forward button.

You were getting ready to use the two way microphone to ask what was going on when you heard a crashing noise. Your finger hit the button quickly as you yelled out “What on earth are you two blond himbos doing out there? Brock I swear to god if you’re leaving your laundry for me to do again I’m throwing it in the Pacific!”

You were too busy screaming to notice you weren’t the only one who heard the ruckus Dumb and Dumber had made. Quinn must have seen the security notification when he got out of the shower, heard your screaming, and now he was angrily stomping towards the front door and opening it up to figure out what was going on.

Brock, who must have tried to hide from the camera, was leaning against the door. Except the door was ripped open by your angry husband and Brock came tumbling backwards into the foyer. His signature smirk and deep voice trying to play innocent. “Hey Huggy.”

You decided it was time to get off the couch and look for yourself. As you pushed past Quinn and Brock you leaned against the door frame. This was when you noticed the white stuff all over and that Petey was doubled over in laughter.

This left Brock to be the one to fess up their master plan, “Well we figured it would be Quinn that would see the camera not you. He’s ALWAYS checking it in the locker room. After me and the Swede had too many tonight we wanted to have some fun. And what’s more fun than pranking the captain? We wanted him to open the door to pie him. Get glitter stuck in his playoff beard. You weren’t supposed to catch us, Y/N.”

You looked back at Petey, now understanding why he was sparkling under your porch lights.

“Sorry about the plant,” he wheezed.

You could feel Quinn’s glare get darker. Brock however was unaffected by the quiet brooding man. “Petey will pay for it because he makes more money.”

6. “Where the fuck you going in that dress?”

Quinn wasn’t as overprotective over you as people assumed he would be with his girlfriend. He trusted you and he also knew that you knew how to keep yourself safe when you were out with friends for a girls night. But at the same time he didn’t like it when you went out when he was on a roadie. Quinn made the comment about how when he’s a plane ride away it gives him anxiety when you're out with friends drinking. He said that he would feel terrible if something bad happened or even if you needed a ride home and he couldn’t come to you because he was on the other side of the continent. Since you weren’t a big partier anyway, from that night on you did tend to only go out if Quinn was in town. Never wanting to be the reason you brought your boyfriend to the breaking point with his anxiety.

But it was your best friend having her birthday and you couldn’t not go. It had completely slipped your mind about your new ring camera and how Quinn was basically addicted to checking it especially when he was on the road. After coming over to get ready at your place. Finally you were ready to order the uber and as you were locking the door, you heard Quinn’s voice “Where the hell are going in that dress?” You could tell from his voice that he was definitely a little annoyed. It was probably because he knew even from the shitty ring camera quality that this was your go to clubbing dress.

“Hi bubs. It’s Y/B/F birthday tonight.I know your out on a roadie which is why I didn’t tell you.” You said as you bent down so that your face was lined up with the camera. “I am realizing now that wasn’t my smartest idea. I promise I won’t be out long okay? I’ll text you as soon as I get home, Quinny.” Quinn could hear the guilt in your voice and it made his heart break a little.

“It’s okay baby girl. Just be safe okay. I love you. Also your making me miss you even more cause you look really really fucking beautiful in that dress.” As much as you tried to hide your blush you knew that you were failing miserably.

“Thanks Quinn. I love you.” as you stood up and blew a kiss to the camera.

7. Fidgety Hughes

Sometimes Quinn’s fidgeting was out of this world insane even for him. Whether it was that he sometimes let himself get lost in his head and didn’t realize how bad it had gotten. Or if shaking his leg or tapping his fingers on thighs calmed his anxiety. But sometimes his fidgeting was just adorable and this was no difference. Quinn was trying to unlock the door but his hands kept fidgeting probably due to the rough practice or maybe it was just from being tired. But after dropping his keys the fourth time you couldn’t help but chirp him through the camera.

“I hope you can handle a puck better than those keys Hughes.” Quinn couldn’t help but smile at your voice through the camera.

“Oh I can name a lot of things you tell me all the time I handle better than these keys.” playing along with your antics but with a flirty tone. But then of course he dropped his keys on the floor for the fifth time.

“Come on get it together bro.” you chirp.

“Don’t be such a brat, unless you need a reminder of who you beg to help you when you have an itch.”

8. Long Week

Quinn knows that you’ve had a long week and been very stressed because of it. So he stops at the store on his way home and grabs all your favorite snacks that he knows you will want later when you come home from work. He decides to ring the camera to tell you that he got all your favorite snacks and will be ready when you get home for a movie night or whatever you want. Even if it’s The Office which he never even saw a single episode until he met you and you forced him to. He also tells you that he already placed an order to your favorite restaurant for takeout.

#quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes #qh43 #vancouver canucks fic #vancouver canucks #vancouver canucks fanfiction #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #schwritingsqh43

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pricegouge · 3 months

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Haul

Part One MDNI

Master list | on ao3

slasher!trucker!141 x reader

series cw: dark fic. major character deaths, rape/noncon

chapter cw: alcohol/drugs mentioned, though reader doesn't partake. up to you if that's for sobriety purposes or not, though most of this chapter takes place in a bar. public nudity. brief, non descriptive mention of animal harm. Let me know if I missed anything!

Like most terrible things in your life, it starts off with a dare. You're on the I-40 somewhere around Seligmen when Ash's fingers drum on the steering wheel of her busted old beater and you know she's got an evil little scheme brewing by the erratic, staccato beat. She turns to you and grins, hair whipping about her in the wind tunnel created by the open windows. "I dare you," she drawls in the same conversational tone she'd used a few states back to initiate a game of I Spy, back when there were colors other than tan and brown, and the occasional smudge of green shrubbery, to spy. "To flash this trucker when we pass him."

Like most terrible things in your life, it starts off with a dare.

You're on the I-40 somewhere around Seligmen when Ash's fingers drum on the steering wheel of her busted old beater and you know she's got an evil little scheme brewing by the erratic, staccato beat. She turns to you and grins, hair whipping about her in the wind tunnel created by the open windows. "I dare you," she drawls in the same conversational tone she'd used a few states back to initiate a game of I Spy, back when there were colors other than tan and brown, and the occasional smudge of green shrubbery, to spy. "To flash this trucker when we pass him."

Bored off your ass after days in the car with not much to do other than reconnect with your old friend and listen to the same band over and over (Ash was… over excited to be on the way to see them), you briefly consider it before taking in the tacky mud flaps - sexy lady silhouette that's been a staple of trashy truckers since before you were born, here X-rayed so you could see her sexy little skeleton as well.

"No way," you scoff.

"Oh, c'mon," she nods at the same decals you'd already noticed. "Bet he'd enjoy the show."

"Yeah, bet he'd enjoy turning me into a skeleton, too."

"Well, he'd have to catch you first, and I'm an excellent, speedy little driver."

She was, that being the only reason you'd agreed to her hairbrained idea to drive half across the US. When she'd asked if you'd wanted to join her in seeing your favorite band from high school play their farewell tour out in California, you'd envisioned long nights, heart to hearts, deep conversation under starry desert skies, and a great pay off at the end in the form of one last, cathartic hurrah before a quiet, tired drive home. But you hadn't calculated on Ash still being in her party girl phase.

Perhaps you should have known. One of the main reasons you'd fallen off with her post-graduation was because the crowd she'd been migrating towards was only escalating. You were by no means a square, but between landing a nine-to-five and having bills to pay, your rough edges had slowly been whittling away over the years while, it seemed, Ash had remained the exact same Ash she'd always been. You didn't begrudge her that, but neither did you relish pit stops at dive bars every night, nor juvenile dares in broad daylight. Mind, when you were supposed to be sleeping because you'd driven all night after a stop in west Texas had left Ash incapacitated no less.

Still, the boredom of not having much to talk about with your only companion, and the monotony of the same albums you've been listening to since middle school being played over and over was wearing on you, and despite your exhaustion, a sense of restlessness had crept in somewhere around Flagstaff and wasn't leaving you be.

"Fine, but you're buying me a drink tonight."

"Are you drinking!?" she hoots, somewhere between excited you're no longer being 'a stick in the mud,' and apprehensive that she wouldn't have a driver lined up at closing time.

"No, but when I inevitably offer to buy someone else one, you're covering it."

Ash scoffs loudly enough to be heard over both the music and the wind, an impressive feat. "Deal, but once he gets a load of them titties, I'm fairly sure Mr. Kenworth here is gonna be dominating your time tonight."

"That's why you're driving quick enough he can't catch us, remember?" you laugh, already reaching up under your shirt to remove your bra.

The car accelerates, the long black trailer stretching past your passenger window as Ash pulls up alongside it. She whoops happily when you unbuckle your belt, blaring the music and hollering along to get your nerves up. There's a pit in your belly, the kind that forms right at the top of a rollercoaster. Your nerves alight, as if in preparation for a fight, skin drawing tight and pebbling into goosebumps. You spare a thought for how hard your nipples are gonna be and laugh perhaps a bit maniacally. Ash turns your nerves to excitement with a rousing set of slaps to your thick thighs. You take a deep breath, release it with a high, distressed whine. Still, you get a leg under you and contort yourself half out the port, Ash's excited shrieking following you out, though soon ripped away by the rushing of the wind around you. Your shirt whips up. Instinctively, you try to shove it down and then nearly roll your eyes at yourself when you realize what you're about to do. The white nose of the truck looms closer, side view mirror reflecting nothing back at you but a darkened cab. It strikes you as odd, what with the sun beating down on you both, hot and undisturbed by cloud nor foliage. It's blazing on your skin despite the wind, scent of the baked tarmac below heavy in your sinuses. Sand pecks against your flesh, abrasive. You hope a big beetle doesn't come smashing into your teeth before all this is done.

You don't have much time to think about it. Ash swats you on your ass and you pull your shirt up, screaming all the while as the tension in your body boils over like a tea kettle. Eyes squeezed shut, you don't notice at first how the truck carries on straight as an arrow. Unaffected. You expect an air horn or something, get none. When you peek, the tint of the truck's window glares apathetically back at you, a dark shroud through which you have no ability to gauge the driver's reaction.

It's Ash who honks first, the tired sounding beeps jolting you back to reality. You feel let down, disappointed. Self-conscious, stupidly. You shrink back on yourself a bit, shirt hiding the bottom half of your face as you slump back toward your seat. Your chest is still exposed, something you only register when - finally - the airhorn knocks you fully on your ass, hand scrambling to cover yourself in front of your friend.

Completely ignorant of your emotional turmoil, Ash slaps the steering wheel animatedly, cackling and whooping like she's driving a getaway car after a successful heist. The airhorn sounds again and you glance up at the blank window, embarrassment and shame creeping up your throat. You've no clue why it's worse that you can't see the driver; even less of an idea as to why you were kind of hoping for their approval. Especially considering you have it, you think, another short blast of the horn attesting to the driver's pleasure. You force a grin, give a stupid little wave that you instantly regret. You roll up the window despite Ash's old beater having no AC, desperate for some kind of space between you and the truck.

Brain skipping, trying to keep busy so you don't have to assess the weird pit of disappointment you'd felt, you reach into the footwell in search of your bra, but stop short when you see it dangling from a strap off Ash's finger. "Thanks," you mumble, and then glare daggers at her when she yanks it away quicker than you can grab. She's got that face on again, the mischief making one.

"Don't you dare," you hiss, but she just cackles and sends it flying out the open sunroof. "Ash!" you cry, twisting in your seat so see the lacy little number get caught up in the slipstream of the semi behind you, skirting up over the hood and plastering itself to the window where, quick as a flash, a thick, tattooed arm reaches out the driver's side window to slap the wiper down over it, snaring it against the glass.

The stone in your stomach hardens, sinks lower. Where before you'd felt oddly bereft without the driver's approval, this feels far too intimate, and you urge Ash quicker, turning back forward to watch the miles of open road pass, checking at each mile marker to see how the space between your car and his has grown. His grill glints chrome under the blaring sun, visible for miles. Combined with the tinted windshield, they turn the white cab into a skull, teeth bared and all.

***

The bar Ash chooses sits back from the road down a small slope, as if nestled by the dusty landscape - a hidden chest of glittering incandescent and neon bulbs, oil slick from the assembled nearby trucks painting what remains of the crumbling tarmac aurora. They line the lot on either side, backed up until their trailers overhang the paved lot itself, carving footprints into the hard earth. Between the two lines, the valley of the lot funnels you toward the boisterous building, music and laughter spilling out its seams.

You'd rolled up the windows when the sun set so you're not quite prepared for the chill that greets you as you step out of the car. Still braless, you check to be sure the dark material of your shirt covers your nipples, but hug your flannel closer to yourself anyway, making a slow turn as you assess the assembled cars. You've been to enough dive bars to know the real warning signs; the get-the-fuck-out-of-dodge-before-you-decide-to-tryand-fight-a-blooded-Nazi kind of signs. Thankfully you don't see much here beyond the standard watch-your-drink-and-don't-let-your-bare-ass-touch-the-toilet-seat kind of vibes so you resign yourself to a night of babysitting, coming around the nose of the car as you bring a cigarette to your lips.

Ash is giddy with excitement, dragging you along with her hands tucked through your elbow as she whispers excitedly about all the possibilities a dive bar off a forgotten county road in nowhere Arizona might offer. She'd said just a few drinks when she'd suggested going out again tonight, but you already know how that's going to shake out.

"Yeah? You gonna do some blow off the shuffleboard table by the end of the night?" You joke.

"And get sand in my nose? Please," Ash scoffs. "I'll do it off the sink like a normal person."

You grin, holding the door open for her. "Go ahead and find us a spot, I'm gonna do my dirty deed," you wag the cigarette at her illustratively.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't take too long or else all the lonely rednecks'll think I'm looking for company."

You don't remind her she doesn't need to be here if she doesn't want to be. "If you ask pretty they'll take you to the bathroom," you wink instead, flicking your nose. Ash just laughs as she steps through the door. You let it drop behind her, fishing your lighter from your pocket as you step toward the edge of the porch. There's a loud group on your left, smoking more than just tobacco by the smell of it. You don't mind, but neither do you want to partake, so you stay a good distance away, listening in as the loudest of the group tells an animated story about the time he hit a deer and it ran off with his headlight cover. He's not a great story teller, but the assembled group laughs loud enough to drown him out half the time so maybe your perception is skewed.

Beyond them, inside, you can hear the clatter of billiards, and the general din of loosened lips, but outside, it is a cool and still night. You've never been to this part of the country, and you can't help but reflect on how nice it is in these quiet moments without Ash's chatter, or her constant performative nature. It's not that you dislike her, but days of such close proximity after years of barely any contact had certainly been a decision, and you're really started to regret it. Still, it's good to travel, and it's been so long since you've bothered with a bar that you nearly forget how to react when a man sidles up beside you and asks for a light.

Stocky, handsome, you stammer over some words and extend your lighter, cursing when you realize you should have held the open flame out for him to light his cigarette over. He gives you a grin like he knows what you're thinking, and then exhales his smoke right into your face, destroying any attraction you'd felt for him before he'd even said a word.

You spare him a tight grin and hold your hand out for your lighter back. He holds it out, but gives it a playful little tug when you try to take it from him. "Alright," you gripe at the same moment he relinquishes his grasp, sending your hand dropping aggressively down with the slight force you'd been using. You nod while he just keeps grinning at you and snub out what remains of your cigarette. "Have a good one," you mumble, sliding past him and into the bar.

Ash perches at a small two-top, long neck dangling from her fingers prettily. You slide in across from her and she offers you the second bottle she'd snagged, though accepts easily enough when you shake your head. She's angled toward the room, that demure, but still inviting pose she'd perfected long ago on full display. As predicted, a string of men approach her, though she shoots them all down, giving you commentary on what she's thought of them all when she sends them packing.

"Too scrawny."

"Smelled like Funyuns."

"I've seen more hair in my shower drain."

You giggle, content to watch her pick on sleazy men all night. Unfortunately her tune changes when return from the restroom a while later to find her flirting with a tall, broad man in a gaiter. She notices you as you draw close and beams at you, waving you closer in a way that suggests 'check this one out'.

"Who's your friend?" you ask hesitantly, eyeing the big guy all over. He's dressed nice enough for a place like this, work boots and well-fitting jeans that hug his hammies sinfully. He's got on a canvas jacket over a tight thermal, some ink on his left hand you can't quite catch the shape of. The gaiter rubs you wrong, despite its innocuous dark material. Just this side of too sketchy in a place already bordering on it, you imagine there's no good reason a man would hide the bottom half of his face when he's presumably there to imbibe alcohol with his mouth all night.

"Simon," the man rumbles, voice dark and accented. He extends his right hand to you and you take it, fingers engulfed by his broad, rough palm. In his left he holds a brown bottle, label obscured by his wide grip.

"Simon, this is my friend, Betty," Ash introduces you before you even have a chance. You shoot her a look, obvious enough that even the newcomer catches it.

"Betty?" he asks, eyes darting between the two of you.

"Not my name," you assert, but Ash speaks over you.

"Because she's so delightfully pretty, but so devastatingly boring," she pouts at you. To Simon she says, "Go on, ask her if she wants a drink."

"Can I get you a -?"

"No."

"See? Boring."

You roll your eyes, but don't offer any sort of retaliation besides. You're used to this, and generally unbothered by it. That doesn't mean it's not a pleasant surprise when Simon comes to your defense. "Nothing wrong with being responsible." His eyes are heavy on you, trailing in a way you're not necessarily comfortable with. That doesn't stop you from thanking him.

"Responsible," Ash scoffs. "One beer is still totally legal to drive."

"Quit complaining. Just means you get to have all the fun," you remind her.

"Mm, true," Ash sings. She tilts her bottle against Simon's, but you can't help noticing he gets distracted before the bottle makes it to his lips.

"You guys from around here?"

"Is anyone from here?" you quip, eyeing the assembled lot. They match their trucks outside: heavy, built for long hauls and quick stops at watering holes.

"Suppose not," Simon admits, his own accent played up for effect. "Where you lot headed, then?"

"L.A.," Ash gushes.

When she doesn't elaborate, you tack on, "Ash's got a modeling gig."

"Really?" Ash smacks Simon playfully on the arm over his offended tone.

"No," she laughs, "seeing a show. You ever been to L.A.?"

"Been everywhere," Simon shrugs, cryptic.

"You a trucker too, I take it?"

"Don't I look like one?" His accent thickens with every word until even your unlearned ear believes you could pinpoint his exact birthplace - distinctly un-American.

"You ever consider a mullet?" Ash giggles.

Simon looks about to snark something back when the lighter-less man from outside stumbles into his space.

"Hi," he tells the group in general, eyes unfocused before they slide to you. "Wanted to apologize. Think we got off on the wrong foot out there."

You can practically feel Ash brimming with excitement, the fact that both of you are now talking to men not going unnoticed by either of you. Not wanting to find yourself in some cheap motel Fargo sex with her, you make your lack of attraction obvious immediately, voice stern. "All good, man."

"Right," he balks. "Can I buy you a drink to make up for it?"

"Nope."

"Oh. Uh… you driving tonight or something?"

"Just not thirsty."

Across from you, Ash mouths the word 'Betty' at a stone faced Simon.

"Then why are you in a bar?" Lighter-less demands, belligerent.

"Good question," you turn on Ash, but before she can answer, Simon speaks up.

"Piss off, mate."

"Fuck you," the guy snaps, turning to face the other man. You realize he must not have gotten a good look at him before approaching the group because you see his eyes go wide when he takes in Simon's sheer size.

"Nah, fuck you actually. Piss off."

He doesn't need telling a third time. Lighter-less gives you and Ash a nod and scurries off while Ash rounds on you.

"And what was wrong with him?"

"Fuckin' rude."

"Are we ever gonna get you laid?"

You've only been on the road with her for two days and have not been actively looking, but you don't bother telling her that. "Only when you finally give in, baby," you croon instead and Ash snorts, already moving on.

"Simon, you any good at darts?"

"No."

"Great! Go bully us into a board using that broad frame of yours and let me win, would ya?"

Something dark passes over Simon's eyes, so quickly you think you might have imagined it when he immediately changes gears, giving Ash a brief nod before skulking away.

"Isn't he fuckin' cute?" Ash hisses at you after he's gone.

"Wouldn't know," you deadpan, covering the bottom half of your face with your hand.

She swats at you. "Oh, come off it. I'm gonna climb him like a tree by the end of the night." You curse to yourself when she sways her hips after him because the worst part is, you don't doubt her.

Simon's at least considerate enough to scrounge up a table by the boards for you, so you have front row seats to the flirt fest the other two partake in. True to his word, Simon lets Ash win three games in a row, each time being rewarded with a slightly more intoxicated girl hanging from his neck. Ash gets touchier the more she drinks, and Simon doesn't seem to mind. Though you find it odd how he rarely reciprocates, content just to let her feel up his considerable pecs and grin down at her like she's being silly. You briefly wonder if he's even into her, until you catch him giving her a congratulatory smack on the ass a little too enthusiastically after her fourth win. He says he's going out for a smoke after that and you leap at the opportunity, grabbing your jacket from the booth and following him out.

"Guess I'll keep our booth occupied," Ash pouts.

"Better, had to scare off a racoon for that thing," you hear Simon rumbling as you lead the way back out onto the porch.

The night's only gotten colder since you've been inside and you're reminded yet again that you're not wearing a bra when you feel the cotton of your shirt chafe against your tight skin. You duck your head in embarrassment as you pull your flannel tighter around yourself, too distracted to notice Simon offering you a cigarette from his pack as you try to remember if you'd been egregiously nipple flaunting back inside.

"You okay?" Simon grunts as he lights his own smoke and you jolt back to reality, find him with his mask lowered.

"Huh? Oh, uh, yeah. Just chillier than I expected."

When he pockets his lighter, Simon keeps his cigarette tucked between his lips. Hands freed, he pulls his jacket off and offers it to you before you can get a protest out. His voice is gravelly when he insists you take it and you do, reveling in the body heat still trapped within. It smells vaguely musty, almost like a garage, but you figure that tracks and it's not unpleasant.

You eye him over as you light your cigarette, not bothering to be all that subtle when you find him watching you just as closely. He's handsome, though you wonder if he keeps his face covered because of the cleft lip or the thick scar that crosses the bridge of his nose, a missing notch giving the slope of it a double ridge. Beneath his coat, he's just as muscled as you'd imagined, heavy texture of his thermal falling into the valley of his pecs nicely. His sleeves are rolled up, revealing more of the ink you'd spotted on his hand - a detailed skull crowned in heavy black swirls which follow the musculature of his forearm nicely.

"None too pretty, eh?"

You let your eyes slide back up to his face, willfully overlook the ruin of his nose. "Wouldn't say that."

He narrows his eyes at you, as if searching for a lie. You know he won't find one, though, and weather it unflinchingly. Eventually he grunts in acceptance, or maybe approval. He doesn't say much after that, though you're content to enjoy the relative silence. The rowdy group from earlier have moved along, and the only other company you have out here is a couple quietly bickering down in the parking lot. Combined with the volume of the bar, it's level of noise you would have found annoying even just two days ago, but after so many hours stuck in the car with Ash's constant chatter, you revel in the lack of conversation, enjoy the minute twinge you get when you stretch your knees damn near hyperextension.

"Your friend's a bit more talkative than you," Simon eventually observes, voice neutral as to whether or not he likes that about you.

"My friend is quite social," you hedge, and laugh when Simon looks like he has something to say about that.

"Your friend has an agenda."

"That obvious?"

"Less obvious: is it a good idea?"

"Well why would you ask me that, when I have a vested interest in keeping the two of you apart tonight so I don't have to stand around awkwardly while the cab is a'rocking, you know what I mean?"

Simon smiles, first time all night. It does nothing to reduce his severity. "Well, you're welcome to join instead."

You can't help but scoff at him, though your laugh turns more nervous when he gives no indication of joking. "About the only thing worse than listening to Ash scream like a banshee from outside the truck, would be listening to her scream like a banshee from inside the truck. Thanks though."

He returns your grin, but it seems a bit tight. You squint at him, trying to get a feel for how insulted he actually is, but he's unflinching, unbothered. Simon's silence unnerves you, and you work to fill the void despite your earlier easiness within it. "Which, uh… Which one's yours?" You nod at the line of trucks on your left and his dark eyes follow the movement.

Shaking his head, Simon steps into your space and angles you toward the other side of the lot. Leaning across your back, his big hand floats into your peripheral where he points at a bland, gleaming shape parked within the shadow of the building. It takes your eyes a moment to adjust to the low lot light in the corner, more a single porch light than anything. For a moment, it looks like any other of the million big white cabs you've seen crawling all over god's green earth, but then Simon clicks his fob behind you, and the lights flash, the dome light within turning on just long enough for you to catch a lacey little number hanging from his rear-view through the dark tinted glass, and then you notice the distinctly teeth-shaped grill you'd memorized in your passenger mirror earlier today. Your blood runs cold despite the heat of Simon behind you, you're tense, ready to flee even without your friend in tow. Your muscles don't listen, however, locked in place like a spring trap with no quarry. And then the crack of a breakshot from within the bar racks your nerves, has you spinning around to find Simon staring back down at you intensely, eyes dark enough to rival his truck's.

"You want that back? Kinda cold out here." His eyes dart down to your chest, as if he can see through the layers you've covered yourself with.

Part of you wants to yell at him, demand answers. A younger, squirrelier version of you probably would've slapped him. Instead, you slip past him wordlessly and make a beeline for your friend. "Ash," you hiss when you spot her, still at the booth where you left her. "Ash, we have to go -."

"Is that Simon's jacket?" She looks offended. You would roll your eyes at her if you had time to argue.

"Yes. Not important. Look," you take the jacket in question off, spare a brief thought for the base instinct telling you to rifle through his pockets. "Simon is the trucker I flashed. I think he followed us here."

"Oh, Jesus, Betty. That guy's probably already forgotten about you. You know how many people flash truckers every day?"

"In what world -? Is this National Lampoon's?" You huff, calm yourself. "Ash, I saw his truck, it's him, and I wanna go."

"You saw a white truck with a black cab, you mean? Spooky," she deadpans.

"He had my fucking bra hanging from his rearview -."

"You went in his cab?"

"No, fucking -."

"Did she go in your cab?"

You still, drawing yourself back to your full height from where you'd wound up leaning over your friend. Behind you, Simon steps close enough you can feel his heat again, smell that stale garage scent. "No," he shrugs and Ash eyes you both suspiciously.

"Here." You shove Simon's coat back into his chest, disappointed when you don't manage to move him an inch. Turning back to your friend, you dangle Ash's keys in her face. "I'm leaving. I encourage you to join."

"I can't even finish my beer?"

You don't bother to answer, storming back toward the door with enough confidence to have her scrambling after you.

"Jesus, what is your problem?" She hisses once the bar door slams shut after her.

You point at Simon's truck, distinct chrome grill giving Ash pause for all of two seconds. "Could be anyone's."

"He asked me if I wanted my bra back, Ash."

Behind her, the bar door opens again. Simon's wide frame fills it for a moment, before stepping out onto the porch, casual as can be. He lights up another cigarette, eyes heavy on you all the while. He doesn't seem to notice when Ash waves at him. This time when you walk away, the crunching of gravel under foot is the only indication you get that your friend is following. She's silent for once as she climbs into the passenger's seat. You don't bother adjusting anything, tearing out of the driveway with a spray of dirt and debris that would probably ruin some paint jobs. Behind you, a truck follows you out of the lot, but the twenty foot shipping container it has loaded reassures you that it isn't Simon on your tail.

Ash remains silent for a long while, though you can tell she hasn't fallen asleep yet by the quality of her breathing. When she does speak, her voice is thin and reedy. "I didn't think he'd follow us."

"I know." For your part, you wish you could muster much beyond a general grumble of annoyance. She was just being silly when she made her little dare; it's not her fault the guy had been a creep. Thankfully, it seems he'd been content to just scare you a bit, the rearview faithfully returning only one set of headlights in your wake every time you check.

"Go to bed, Ash. If he keeps following I'll wake you."

To your immense relief, she listens, her soft breaths relaxing the tension in your shoulders. After another glance in the side view to reassure yourself you're still safe, you take some soothing breaths of your own and run through what remains of your trip's itinerary, taking comfort in how little actually remained. Nearly half way over, and after tonight you don't think it'll be too hard to talk Ash out of any more unplanned stops at local dives just to check out the native wildlife. You're pretty sure you've both seen enough, the dejected way she'd looked after Simon's ulterior motive had been revealed playing again in your mind. Poor Ash, honestly, but you suppose it works out in your favor if it means getting home sooner and with fewer scrapes.

Feeling better, you turn the radio on, low enough it won't disturb your passenger. It takes some scanning through static to find anything, and when you do you're a bit annoyed that it's country gold of all things, but you can't deny how well it fits the landscape through which you drive, the low horizon backlit by the sunset's distant memory. It's nice, for a time. Nice enough you aren't really paying attention when DJ starts spouting local headlines, the news of a young woman's body being found recently only about an hour's ride north of here going in one ear and right out the other.

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#dark fic #dead dove fic #141 x you #141 x reader #haul #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #kyle garrick x reader #Kyle garrick x you #john mactavish x reader #john mactavish x you #john price x reader #john price x you #poly 141 #💷🔪

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feninina · 1 year

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𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐭𝐞 ༉‧₊˚.⁀➷

therapist! jonathan crane x female reader.

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: when your father decided that you needed therapy, taking you to his dear friend dr. crane to treat and help you, you thought it wouldn't work at all, but it turned out to be everything you needed.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: SMUT(minors dni!!), noncon/dubcon, depression, cursing, crane is a mysoginistic prick, using therapy for unhinged reasons, smut, hair pulling, jonathan just being an creep, choking AND strangulation, dacryphilia, hitting, unprotected sex (safe sex its great sex!!), breeding kink, forced breeding, power dynamics, i think crane should be a warning himself, reader being borderline stupid and naive. also this has a lot of backstory i’m so sorry i got carried away lol.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 7.1K

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: omg my first fic on here!! this is also my first work on english and my first smut ever so i apologise in advance for any mistake!! i hope y'all enjoy it anyways ahahahaha live laugh love jonathan crane👏🏻 feedback its very appreciated so i can improve and continue to publish better works, anyways enjoyyyy 💓

𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝘁

It was awkward, to say the least.

You were sitting across from Doctor Crane in the couch at your dad's house, legs crossed as you watched him write on his clipboard, something about it making you feel anxious, a little nauseous, even.

This wasn't your first session, you started doing this four months ago, not long after your divorce that caused you to fall into a spiral of sadness and misery. Your failed— and short marriage was the main reason you started taking therapy with your dad's friend, the chief of Arkham, Jonathan Crane, and still, you couldn't bring yourself to talk about it.

He was patient, you told him several times that he was a saint. Regardless, before you started with the sessions, he explained to your dad that he didn't really do this; therapy really wasn't his strong suit, but for a friend, a desperate one, he would gladly do it.

Your dad came to him, offering a big stack of money if he would talk to his little girl, make her recover her once joyful personality, like you had one to begin with. Jonathan really couldn't say no, and not really because of the money, he had other reasons in mind, unethical reasons.

And there you were now. You were quick to open up to him, eager to talk, to be listened and he, on the other hand, was ready to listen, to give you advice, console you and help you get through the sorrow that was following you since you were young, playing the role of your knight in shinning armor.

"I can't believe you don't actually do this" you said once, sniffling your nose with a handkerchief he gave you as he examined you with a warm gaze, an empathetic grin on his face. "You're really helping me"

Jonathan was quick to wave his hand and tell you that it wasn't a big deal, that he was just doing his job, and if you weren't so innocent, so stupid, you would have noticed the mischievous sparkle that flickered in his eyes for a split second.

You were landing right in the palm of his hand.

Not even thirty minutes into the first session you told him everything about your past; every little thing you thought he needed to know to treat you. And you were slightly right; he did need to know those things, but not to treat you, just to manipulate you and mold your little brain into what he was envisioning for you and your future together.

Truth was, you hated everything about your life, regardless of the fact that you had everything. That's what you've been told since you were a child; a big house, a lot of money, maids taking care of you so you wouldn't have to move a finger and just sit pretty and relax inside the walls of the huge mansion that confined you since you could recall.

You have everything. That was bullshit.

Sometimes, you couldn't help but think that people told you that out of pity, like they knew how miserable you felt, but not daring to say a word about it. Your dad was a powerful man, and you were aware of that, ever since you were born, he had bussines with Falcone and you knew that people feared him, he practically ruled Gotham, that lifeless and dangerous city that you had to live in.

You have everything. You were tired of that sentence. You didn't care at all about these nice things surrounding you, those dresses in your closet, those diamonds in your jeweler, that fancy car you owned since your eighteenth birthday, no, that was useless in your eyes, because all you really wanted, was love.

It was a lonely life; you learned how to do everything by yourself, how to comb your hair, how to deal with your period when it first came, how to dress up properly and do your makeup. You didn't even had to learn about boy problems because there weren't any boys in your life, you were homeschooled. So you were quiet, not really having to talk at all, there was nobody to talk to.

And since Jonathan was the only person you were talking to at the moment, you started to feel like you loved him, the idea sitting right with you without you even knowing it, thinking that this was how therapy normally went.

Loneliness striked your life at a young age; your mother died from a strange disease when you were eight, leaving you with a shattered heart thad bled everytime you walked past her bedroom, or saw a picture of her. You practically watched her die, a witness of how she lost her strength, how her once beautiful skin turned pale and yellow, and lost every little spark within herself, and the worst part was that all the money you had, couldn't even help her.

It was a deep wound that you carried with yourself, with nobody to talk about it.

Your father spent his days locked up in his office, and when he wasn't there, he was out in the city doing unthinkable things that you didn't even wanted to know about, leaving you on your own, having to fill all of those silent and empty rooms by yourself, with nobody to laugh with, nobody to hold you and see you grow. He wasn't really around, working all the time, too busy to know that his daughter didn't seem to care about all the expensive stuff he bought for her, not even taking the time to have dinner with you or hold a simple conversation. He loved you, you knew that, he just wasn't the type to show his affection with words or actions, but with gifts. And you hated everything about it.

But now, Jonathan was there, making you feel listened, finally saving you from falling into loneliness again. Your whole life, you thought you had a horrible sickness, that you were doomed to this awful destiny of sorrow and silence, but now, with his sweet words and good company, you couldn't be more than relieved.

You wished sometimes that you met him earlier, that this whole therapy stuff started before, and you even confessed it to him. And it irked him a little, that you didn't even remember how you two really met each other, hiding his annoyance with a warm smile.

Some months ago, your father started to brought you to parties he attended, parties were all the corrupts scumbags from Gotham reunited and celebrated how they were dragging the city to the gates of hell on their benefit, and you couldn't be more happy to attend them. You knew he was bringing you because he recently broke up with the young girl he carried with him— that was most likely your age, and needed a pretty thing to hang of his arm and take care of the people he didn't feel like talking to.

So you accepted this new life, eating up this role of socialite like it was made for you.

It was a chance to know people, to speak and make new friends, but you learned quickly that those people weren't there for that, and picked up on how mostly of the people who talked to you just wanted to climb up the social ladder and gain some extra points from your father.

He, even, introduced you to a couple of people that seemed close to your age, and you chatted with them, feeling extremely anxious because you weren't used to this, so it was weird to them seeing such a pretty woman, with your status and fortune, acting so shy and quiet in a place that your dad practically owned.

After a couple of hours, you learned the agenda. All you had to do was put on a fake smile, get them off your father's shoulders and pretend you were very interested in what they had to say, hiding your uncomfortable expression behind your glass of champagne, promising them that you would arrange a reunion with your father someday.

One of those nights, your father introduced you to someone, someone who you didn't pay much attention because he seemed to be uninterested too, only being there for the sake of his job.

"Pretty girl, come here" your father said, a cheerful tone of voice as grabbed you by the shoulder to get your attention, snapping you out of your train of thoughts. "I want you to meet my friend, Doctor Crane"

You looked at the man in front of your dad, his pale blue eyes already sizing you up discretely, looking at you up and down in a way that didn't go unnoticed by you, a shiver running down your spine as his eyes finally locked with yours.

You couldn't help but feel small under his gaze, your glass now forgotten in your left hand, the right one extended to take his and stretch it for a quick second, returning to your first position, his expression remaining serious.

"Nice to meet you" he spoke, his voice sounding like velvet in your eyes, not quite sensing the undertone behind it. "Your father told me wonders about you"

You grin, the irony of that sentence making you laugh a little, what wonders could your father know about you? But you kept your composure, the conversation not going any further, and you forgot about him fast enough, when in another of those annoying parties you met the love of your life — or so you thought.

That same night, when you went back home, you were thinking about spending the rest of your life with some guy that flirted with you at the bar, and Jonathan, prayed to whatever thing listening to him up there, that crossed your path with his again.

He practically obsessed with you, because it felt right. You were young, beautiful, wealthy and had a last name that could open even more doors for him, getting tired of saving Falcone's man of going to jail; you were an opportunity, tied to a nice pair of legs.

After a few weeks of stalking, it kinda broke his heart that naive as he expected you, you got married to the guy from the party; he told you then his name was Lewis, and now you doubted it that was even true.

You were finally going to get what you always wished for, a family, love. And it was perfect. Everything was perfect.

It was a dream that you were living in. A dream that shattered in front of you no longer than three months after.

After you contracted married with this man, you took care of the house, now learning all of these housewife duties that you didn't know anything about, but making your best effort to please him, to be the perfect woman ever created, departing from your old life and habits and adjusting them to his own.

You couldn't be more happy, regardless of your bad cooking, the bad-swiped floor and the half-done bed that welcomed you both every night, you finally had love.

It lasted three months. Your wholesome real life fantasy of a marriage destroyed when you found out, accidentally, that this man was just an employee of your dad, willing to get a promotion if he married you. At that moment, you didn't know who you hated more, if the bastard, or your dad who was literally bribing the bastard to love you.

But your dad only wanted to make you happy, tho.

You were embarrassed, not quite sure of how to tell this to Jonathan, because after all, he was there for you, just for the money your dad was paying him. Your cursed the day your dad became rich, because all of it was making you miserable and it felt like it wasn't going to stop.

At this point, a feeling of despite against you was growing within Jonathan, after a few weeks treating you, he quickly remembered why he didn’t chose this path of career, but remembering that he was there because of a major reason; a reason more important than your helpless cries for attention.

He was sick of you, all you ever did was complain in the commodity of your million dollar house, unaware that there were more important problems in the world. It isn’t completely your fault, Jonathan thought one day, you were just an ungrateful brat, and his work was to tame you, and he planned to do just that today.

"So," he startled you, narrowing his eyebrows, an expression in his face that you could only understand as concern. "remember, if you don't speak, I can't help you".

You chuckle and shift your weight in the chair, immediately feeling your eyes fill up with tears as you confronted the fact that you had to speak about it, right now. He was quick to offer you his handkerchief, as he always did and with shaky hands you took it, sniffling onto it, closing your eyes as you felt your whole body shake with each one of your cries.

You felt Jonathan put his hand on your knee, softy caressing the skin that his thumb could reach, opening your eyes and looking at his, Jonathan welcoming you with a pitying look. You put the tissue aside, both him being so close and his scent impregnated on the piece of fabric making you feel a little giddy, a little confused.

Why was your heart racing so much? He was your therapist, here to talk about your former husband.

Jonathan couldn't help but grin a little, knowing he was maybe breaking a rule here, touching you like this, being so close. He couldn't care less, after all, he wasn't here listening to you cry and bitch about your whole life for the sake of your well-being. He was here because he wanted you to break and get on your knees to him. Figuratively and literally.

"It's so embarrassing" you struggled to spit out "He didn't even love me, Doctor"

He hummed, dragging his chair so he was a little closer to you, you looked at him through your teary lashes and tried to keep it together, this wasn't the first time you cried in front of him, but the reason itself was enough to make you feel full of shame.

He didn't say anything, this being a motivation for you to continue.

"My dad was paying him" you murmured, cleaning the mascara off your cheeks. "It was all a lie"

The whole situation was absurd, what happened to you still felt like a sick joke they were playing on you, your dad and Lewis, probably waiting for the perfect moment to tell you the truth.

But that wasn't going to happen, right now the only thing that felt true to you was Jonathan. He set you up to that, and you blindly fell on his silly trap.

"Poor thing" he cooed you, moving his hand a little further up your thigh, noticing the goosebumps on your skin. A mastermind, that's how he felt. "How could they?"

That was all the mendacity he fed you with since you started seeing him, making you believe he was actually empathizing with you, full of loathe against everyone who hurt you, who dared to leave you alone, but now he was there, his task being to pretend to care.

"It's pathetic" you blurted out, leaning into his touch when his prying hand went up to your cheek. You really couldn't say anything more, crying against his hand like it was something you did every monday morning. "I'm so sad. I don't know what to do"

He shook his face, your eyes meeting his with a confused expression, black stained tears dropping on your lap and wetting his hand before he returned it and looked over his clipboard, pretending to think.

You were so vulnerable, ready for him to destroy. He finally got you where he wanted. He then explained you that you were so sad that it made you unaware of a lot of things, blinded by your own pity against yourself that every door that opened, you closed. It all came down to a thing; you needed a diagnosis.

He gave you a moment to process the information, ready to continue with his plan.

"Actually," he started, his tone now more firm, more strict, the one he used when you were approaching the end of the session. On the last one, he recommended you to touch yourself, to liberate oxytocin on your brain or something you really didn't understood.

It was almost evil from his side, he knew that your only thought while doing it would he him ordering you to do so.

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of such awful news, Y/N" he stated, making your heart skip a beat. "But I think you're sick"

You nearly gasped, the air got stuck in your throat, more tears gathering in your eyes. You lifted one of your hands to your chest, a million thoughts crossing your head as Jonathan's clever eyes examined your expression.

Bingo.

"Sick" you repeated after a moment, almost like you were making peace with the revelation. "How sick?"

It was an innocent question, your tone of voice shaking as your inferior lip trembled, holding it with your teeth in an attempt to not burst into tears again, your whole body feeling like it was going to break into a million peaces by how much you were shaking in the couch.

Jonathan was quick, standing from the chair he was on and taking a seat by your side, his hand swiftly placing in your knee. You looked at him confused, he never got this close, maybe your sickness was serious.

"What am I, Doctor?" you whispered, your eyes showing him a hint of fear that made him finally lose all his faked professionalism. "Depressed? Crazy?"

Both of you were dying of anticipation now; meanwhile you feared that you were going to get admitted to Arkham, Jonathan was seeing the golden ticket to the best future he could ever achieve, and all thanks to you.

"Oh, no, no" he purred, his hand making its way up to your thigh. "You're sick, not crazy"

You parted your lips as his hand moved more further, not really sure of what was happening, not daring to stop him, too scared of your mental health to think about anything else, not helping the way your legs started to part too.

A sudden gasp left your lips as his hand squeezed your tight, a smile you never saw on him appearing on his face. The crying stopped a moment ago, the surprise of having him so close making you go a little numb.

"I know what a girl like you needs" he said, almost sternly, like his hand wasn't centimeters away from your panties.

Was in that moment, that you knew this wasn’t about therapy anymore.

"You think so?" you whispered, your voice still shaky, but now for a whole different reason. "And what is it, Doctor?"

"To be fucked stupid"

It almost shocked you how he said that as it was a normal diagnosis, like he gave you a name of a medicine you could go and buy at any drugstore in town. You gulped and didn't move when his grip tightened on your leg, your face growing red.

A loud gasp escaped your lips when at your lack of response, Jonathan grabbed you hard by the jaw and forced you to look at him. Your eyes glistened with nothing but fear, your brows narrowing as you mumbled something that he really couldn't understand, and it wasn't like he wanted to.

"You're sick, Y/N" he repeated, more harshly this time, his hand moving your head as he spoke. "And I'm going to cure you"

He let go of your face to clasp his lips against yours, a kiss very far away from sweet, his mouth moving roughly against yours. You never had been kissed like this, so you tried to play it along, trying to show him some of the love you felt for him, that you thought you owed him.

But he didn't care if you felt loved during the kiss, trying to assert the dominance he held upon you, his hand now holding firmly the back of you neck to prevent you from pulling away.

It was a mess; your teeth clashed, drool was dripping from your chin as his tongue explored every space of your mouth, not leaving anywhere of it untouched. Your movements were a little stiff, unsure of what to do, trying to provide the sweetness that he lacked.

His hand moved to your the front of your neck and squeezed it a little, making you yelp in surprise, the sound muffled by his mouth. You tried to get away from the kiss, confused about his rough actions against you, a little scared of him even, almost like you didn’t trust him every little part of your brain in this same couch for the last couple of months.

But then it clicked on your foggy brain, he knew you, perfectly— you only knew his name, you didn’t know what this man was capable of.

You could only move a few centimeters away from his hungry mouth, your lips parted as tears welled in your eyes from the pressure he was applying to your neck.

“Stop” you managed to stutter, your breath mixing with his. “I can’t- breathe”

You doubted that he listened to you, your voice not coming out of your throat at all and getting stuck in your larynx, your voice-box completely muffled by his strong grip.

“Shut up, brat” he spitted, his tone sounding full of abhor, your eyes wide open as you felt the air leaving your body and your lungs starting to burn. “Always getting what you want”

You weakly placed one of your hands around his wrist, another attempt of gasp elicited from your agape mouth as he lifted his other hand and choked you with both, something in your dizzy mind telling you that he was possessed.

“Crying all the time- complaining” he continued, not caring if you were listening, the suffocation being to much to bare now. “So selfish”

And maybe he was.

Your brain was filled with fear, wondering how it all went from a kiss to this— almost getting killed by your therapist in your couch. You opened your eyes to meet his, feeling like your chest was on fire as there wasn’t any air flowing in, seeing how the blue of Jonathan’s eyes has darkened and his lips were parted as well, the muscles of his jaw twitching as he choked you to death.

Your eyebrows narrowed together in terror as you noticed that familiar tingly sensation in your lower belly and your thighs clenching together. Maybe it was something about him exercising this power over you, how you felt so feeble under his touch, that was probably leaving bruises on your neck for you to carry and show around what he was making you do it.

You didn’t have enough time to think about it, you were practically dying.

“And you are enjoying this?” he said with an amused tone, probably noticing how your thighs fragily contracted against one another.

You felt yourself slowly lose your consciousness when finally the relief came and the air started to flow again to your desperate lungs, taking long and loud puffs of air when his hand let go of your neck. Your erratic breath was interrupted by a loud moan that escaped you when Crane yanked you by your hair and shoved you to the floor.

He was quick yo position you between his legs, looking at you through his unfixed glasses, giving you a twisted smile that made you quiver in fear, that growing wet patch on your panties making you feel like a really sick girl.

“Doctor-” you mumbled, closing your eyes as he pulled your hair, withdrawing a mewl off your mouth. “Hurts”

“You talk when I tell you to talk” he snickered, adjusting the way his fingers gripped your hair. You thought that he might just pull out the strand he was tugging. “I’m sick of your whining”

You felt more tears well up in your eyes; not sure if it was from the pain in your head or how his words felt like a knife that landed right on your heart. You were confused, sad, angry— a little hot, too.

“I pay you yo listen to me” you said, your voice so shaky you were lucky he could understand you. You wished he didn’t understand you.

Another sort of moan left your lips as a hard slap made a landing in your cheek, your face turned to the side because of the impact. You closed your eyes in disbelief, a cry coming out as you felt helpless, wondering if this was some exposure therapy he was experimenting on you.

He repeated himself, instructing you to talk only when you were told so, nodding in defeat as you accepted whatever this was and continued to play along with Jonathan’s sick fantasy of controlling you, without even knowing it.

You looked at him with nothing but inquietude, the look in his eyes giving you the foreboding that nothing good was about to happen now, frightened of what we would do to you.

He didn’t show any hints of letting go of your hair anytime soon, just holding it firmly to keep you looking at him through your heavy lashes, a wicked grin on his smug face.

“Let’s give that whining mouth of yours a good use” he said, and you gulped, understanding what he wanted and quivering in fear, not really understanding why the sticky sensation between your legs grew.

“Undo my pants” he commanded, and you stayed still, your eyes not leaving his even when another slap landed on your tear-wet face. “Do as you’re told, brat. This might be your only cure”

You couldn’t help but sob a little, his tone sounding so definitive, so professional. Your trembling hands reached his belt and unbuckling it ungracefully, taking longer than he expected, you heard him chuckle as you unbuttoned his pants afterwards, then putting your hands back in front of your lap.

“C’mon” he pulled your hair again, causing you to moan in pain. “Don’t make me tell you what to do”

You looked at him again in nothing but shame, trying to resist to this humiliating request of his, but complying it anyways. He said he was going to cure you, but now you doubted it, right now, you only wanted this to be over.

With a last look at his eyes you returned your attention to the growing bulge in his slacks, the shame in your brain being present at all times, not quite helping the way your eyes were fixated on his clothed member. You were quick to free him out after your staring earned you a other harsh pull of hair, your lips turned into a line when his cock slapped his abdomen, causing his dress shirt to wrinkle a little.

“Go on, Y/N” he encouraged you, as you looked at him with pleading eyes, silently begging him for mercy, knowing that even if you screamed it at him, he just wouldn’t listen. “This isn’t about what you want, anymore. Is about what you need”

A tear slid from your eyes and disappeared down your cheek when his free hand placed the tip of his hard cock on your parted lips, gesturing you to take it and not waste more of his time— more than you already did.

“Open up, whore” he said under his breath, using your hair as a device to move your head and help you shove his length down your throat. You complied, the tears in your eyes now soaking in you cheeks by the effort that you were making trying to welcome his thick shaft down your mouth.

You were sure you scratched him with your teeth a few times as he bobbed your head up and down with his strong hand, manhandling you without care for his own pleasure. You placed your hands on his knees, trying not to gag, but when his tip touched the bottom of your throat, you couldn’t help it.

You cried as you felt suffocated again, now for a whole different reason, a more humiliating one, and you almost wished he killed you then. His hips buckled everytime your lips reached the base of his cock, the room filled with the sounds of your mouth and saliva coating his shaft and the soft moans that came out of his poisoned lips.

“Take it, whore” he said, his voice now husky and distorted by the pleasure, the pain that your teeth accidentally inflicted on him turning him even more. “God- you are horrible at this”

He chuckled between heavy breaths, pulling you by the hair and releasing his cock from your mouth, a vulgar pop filling both of your ears at the sudden separation of your lips and his member. Your eyes looked at the floor, feeling such a shame that the mere thought of meeting his face with your fearful face made you cringe, the pulsating pain on the back of your head making you dizzy.

“You can’t suck dick properly” he said, his tone sounding like he was making fun of you. “No wonder why your husband left you. You’re just pathetic”

You finally rose up your face to look at that insufferable smile of his, ignoring the way his cock was still hanging there in front of you, almost brushing your nose. His fingers finally untangled from your hair and giving you some sort of solace, the consolation that this traumatic session was over.

Maybe the remedy was worse than the sickness itself.

“Jonathan, stop it, plea-”

Your imploration was completely ignored, followed by another slap on your wet cheek that made you cry even more, not understanding how this man could’ve been the same one who made you felt loved and finally listened. You fell for a lie once again.

“Get on the couch” he simply said, his words were like a bucket of cold water fell on you. “Stop the bitching, don’t want to hear it”

“And I’m your doctor. Not Jonathan” he reminded you, making you feel even more ashamed.

You did as he told, again, half-standing from the floor and sitting next to him, trying to take as much space from him as you could before he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, your face growing red as his face was now centimeters away from yours.

“You look so beautiful when you cry” he whispered, caressing your face but trying to nor wipe the tears away, almost like he was admiring you. It made you melt into his touch, glad that his kind demeanor was there again. Even if his words made you cringe— and the fact that his cock was still out, you felt your heart grew warmer by the way he tenderly touched you.

It didn’t last much longer, when his lips twitched into a malicious smile and went down to nibble your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses around the bruised skin and bitting where his fingers hurt you previously, making your fingers wrap on his hair and cry for mercy, trying for him to stop hurting you this much.

“Shut up, stupid brat” he repeated that same insult, making you swallow your cries, closing your eyes in disbelief as he continued to injure your already suffering skin.

You arched your back in surprise when all of the sudden his hands reached for your breasts, groping your tits like his life depending on it, stimulating you through the fabric of your shirt, but all you felt was fear and anger, impotence flowing through your veins because you just couldn’t scream and push him away, fear was freezing you on the spot.

The worst part? You maybe didn’t wanted to push him away. Because maybe if he gets what he wants now you would be cured and he’ll be back to normal, returning you the sweet Doctor Crane that you met once, not this monster that was groping you like a piece of meat.

He clicked his tongue and dropped both of his hands to spread your legs open, forcing your back to drop onto the hand rester of the couch. You looked at him with big eyes, your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest and scream to Jonathan that enough was enough, you just couldn’t take any of this anymore.

But your heart stayed there, between your lungs that seemed incapable to hold any air, making your breathing erratic. So nobody screamed Jonathan to stop, and he continued with his profanation against your persona— your dignity.

He bit his lip at the sight of your fucked-up face, your legs open as it showed him the dark patch on your baby blue panties, darting his eyes from your half-exposed crotch to your teary eyes.

“God, keep crying and I might come now” he growled, lowering his face to meet your pussy, kissing it through your underwear, making you mewl, closing your eyes at the sudden attention your core was getting.

You felt embarrassed at how much you enjoyed when he moved the fabric to the side and started making out with your cunt, swallowing your fluids like a starved man.

“So wet” he mumbled against your labia, the vibration making your eyes roll back, bitting your lip to prevent any moan to come out; he was raping you, why did he make you enjoy it? “I bet you like this, to be treated like a whore”

You shook your head, more tears falling out of your eyes as you felt nothing else but humiliation, pleasure washing over your body everytime his tongue brushed your clit, your back arched against nothing.

“You like it?” he said, finally pulling out and pushing his body up so his face was in front of yours, his cock grazing against your now stimulated pussy, a gasp leaving your lips, a gasp that quickly turned into a hurting moan when his hand slapped you again, this time in your throbbing cunt. “Answer me”

“I- I do” you whispered, gripping his shoulders when you felt him align the head of his member with your whole, scared of how it was going to fit. You had trouble taking it when he face-fucked you, how the fuck it was going to fit down there?

“I’m going to fuck you so good” he whispered between pants, jerking himself off before entering you. “You’re going to forget that pathetic husband of yours”

You couldn’t help but cry, trying to push him off by the shoulders, a terrified look on your face. “It won’t fit, Doctor” you pleaded, a crooked grin on his face as you keep on calling him that. “I beg you, don’t-”

“Yes, beg me” he said, starting to push his member inside you with a slow but relentlessly pace, not giving you enough time to adjust, just to scream and hit him weakly on the chest, face and shoulders before ge grabbed your hands and pinned them down, on the sides of your body. “I’m going to cure you- do you so good”

His voice was low, as he barely could speak when he felt just how tight you were, your walls hugging his cock just the right way, his pulsating head making your mind dizzy, the stinging pain starting to be forgotten.

But when he slid out and entered back it, the hardness of his movement made your insides burn with pain, a loud cry echoing in the walls of the living room as he started to trust into your pussy with a fast pace, not caring at all if you felt good.

He snapped his hips against yours with an animalistic force, growls escaped from his mouth every time his cock was welcomed by the warmth of your stretch whole, the sensation making him go even more feral, making you cry more.

He let go of one of your hands and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at his eyes as he fucked you vigorously, the blue on his iris not existent anymore, only his widely dilated pupils meeting yours, your blurred vision distinguishing the depraved expression in his face.

“You- so tight” he snarled, his voice barely audible, covered by the sound of skin slapping and your loud cries. “I bet your stupid husband didn’t fuck you like this”

You felt nothing but shame as you felt his cock now sliding in and out more easily, the wetness of your cunt growing as he spoke to you like that, that familiar heat flourishing in your lower belly as his words degraded you, your cries quickly becoming moans.

“This was all you needed- fuck” he said, his spit splashing your face as he talked, his words full of disdain. “A good dick, that’s all it takes to keep bitches like you quiet” You nodded, thinking that if you agreed he would stop. How wrong you were.

In a quick movement Jonathan took his cock out and spun you around, not giving you time to get on your ass up by laying your chest down before he stabbed your hole again, pushing your skirt all the way up to see how his pelvis came into collision with your ass.

You were moaning like a bitch in heat now, sure that the maids were listening, not really caring about it anymore. Jonathan was fucking you nice and hard, your mouth wide open as his tip brushed your cervix, screaming to him to keep it right there.

“I’m close” he said, pulling your hair back to press his chest to your back, his other hand going down to play with your swollen clit, wanting your to come around his cock like the slut he knew you were. “Come with me, you whore”

“Yes” you moaned, your tongue out as his cock hit the right spots, making your hips to move against his, grinding against his hand and dick, feeling your wetness drip down to your thighs. “Yes, yes, I want to”

He laughed, approaching your ear with his tongue to bite it, leaving a long and wet kiss underneath it that made you grow hotter, your eyes closed as you let him use you; the only thought in your mind being him and his wonder-working cock.

Truth was, he was fucking you stiffly, every slam of his hips stronger than the last one, but you were so deprived of touch, so dick-starved, that even if Jonathan was fucking you like a lifeless doll, only for the sake of his pleasure, you loved it, even when it hurt you.

“I’m going to fill you up” he said against your ear, his hand leaving your clit unattended as he grabbed your hip to increase the velocity of his thrusts, ramming your hole like a demented man, making your head drop against his shoulder and scream at the ceiling, now knowing what he meant by curing you.

“Going to get you pregnant” he said, more to himself than anything “so you don’t have to bitch about being alone anymore”

You opened your eyes with terror, you didn’t want children, you were so young. The idea made you frightened, the moaning now sounding like little nos and pull outs, but Jonathan didn’t listen.

“Doctor please, please, pull out” you pleaded, reaching for his hips and trying to push him away, one of his hands slapping your ass and pulling you down by your shoulder blade so you wouldn’t fight anymore. “Doctor Crane please”

“I will fucking fill you up, Y/N” he chanted, laughing at the idea of your round belly and your swollen tits, carrying his baby all day and feeling all worked up and needy all day, only waiting for him to fuck you all day. “You won’t be alone again. You won’t be sad again”

Then you realized it.

When he came, your hot walls creamed every single drop of his cum, making his thrusts sloppy and slow, his moans filling your ears as you sobbed under his touch, feeling his seed paint your walls and load your insides with his sperm.

That was your cure.

His hot release that now flooded inside your leaking cunt, that was your so-promised antidote. He took away your solitude by giving you his and yours firstborn, a bastard baby that would give you the company that you lacked.

You felt him chuckle as he rode out his high, the chase of his own climax made you forget yours, so now there you were, your swollen cunt looking for its release while his rested among your insides calmly, like it was meant to be.

He didn’t pull out immediately, taking his time to appreciate the sight of your skirt resting in your hips all rolled up, your bruised neck and messy hair, the way your ass was exposed to him by the way he had you arching your back. All for him— for him to wreck.

He pulled out and rolled his eyes when you started crying, now being annoying instead of hot. You sat on the couch and saw him button his pants and fix his hair, hissing when you felt nothing but pain growing in your worn-out pussy. You explained through your weak voice how he ruined your life, that he was the worst person you’ve ever met and that now you had to carry the product of his sick and twisted rapist-fantasy, even tried to hit him, but your pathetic tantrum only gained you another slap in the face, and a stern look.

When he tried to stand up and leave, you grabbed him by the wrist and begged him not to, he couldn’t just leave you, not now, not ever.

“Don’t be so ungrateful” he said, a smile that made you feel nothing but trepidation in his face. “You’ll never be alone again”

You couldn’t help but feel scared. Scared of him, of what just happened, of what’s going to happen next, scared for your future son with this evil specie of a man.

When you continued to cry, and he pulled you for a hug as he assured you that he would never leave you; and how could he? He had a long life of success waiting for him now, giving a girl of your status his last name, his children. Oh, it’s going to be wonderful, he just needed to tame you and make you the perfect slave for him, and that wasn’t going to be hard.

You were sure that you’ll never be loved, but at least now Jonathan was going to be with you. You’ll never be alone again.

thanks for reading. w/love, fenina;)

taglist: @lovesickxcherries @genini @ilunapb @ostricx @devotedlyshadowytheorist

if you want to be added let me know, it’ll be my pleasure🫶🏻

#cillian x fem!reader #jonathan crane x reader #cillian murphy x oc #cillian murphy x reader #cillian smut #cillian x reader #cillian x y/n #jonathan crane fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #jonathan crane x you #cillian one shot #cillian fic #peaky blinder imagine #batman fanfiction #scarecrow x reader

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yuff7e · 2 months

Text

🪼⋆. inosuke with a strong gf headcanons !! .ೃ࿔*:･. + small fic / female reader

the cuties song -> www.spotify.com

- you being strong was one of the main reasons he began to like you let’s be real

- he thought you were really pretty too, but it didn’t occur to him that he actually liked you until like.. a month of tanjiro and zenitsu noticing his attitude changing towards you

- he had to be sat down by t & z and they told him basically that he liked you and he was like “oh yeah!! let me go tell her!!”

- practically zooming to go confess to you but t & z stopped him so fast

- they told him he couldn’t just confess to you like that, he had basically just realized his feelings for you

- before he did, he was treating you the same.

- making fun of you if you lost, challenging you, etc.

- they told him to take things slow and see how you react to him being more kind to you

- he immediately got defensive and was all like “what do you mean i’m not nice to her?! im nice to everyone!! raaaAAAAAHHGGGGGG!!”

- okay so he stfu and started to actually treat you well from then on out

- he was actually doing quite well with his behavior and genuinely taking his time with you, but it’s like he couldn’t read you and he would get frustrated

- sprinting towards tanjiro & zenitsu at every point in the day explaining to them what he did and if it was appropriate

- them congratulating him if he did something good but telling him off if he did something bad

- like one time he was training with you and got way too aggressive and threw you over his head and crushed you into the dirt

- it’s not like it hurt you, you were strong so you just stood up and brushed it off but you weren’t too happy he did that so you gave him the cold shoulder the rest of the training and went to go train with someone else

- you reacting like that made him angry at first because he didn’t understand what he did wrong, you’re strong why are you acting like a baby about it?

- until t & z were basically like “she probably likes you, and getting thrown around by a boy she likes probably isn’t flattering to her at all!”

- he straightened up completely after that

- he would go into the forest late at night and look at different rocks that reminded him of you and put them in a sack

- the next morning you still weren’t talking to him so he came up to you whenever everyone was off doing their own thing

- “hey [name], sorry about yesterday. i got you these cool rocks instead!”

- holding up the sack of rocks proudly like the goober he is

- you grin and take the sack and open it up to see all of the pretty crystal-like rocks. they were nice and you forgave him :)

- he was so HAPPY

- doing that weird gawking thing he does when you’re looking at the rocks

- afterwards you ask if he wants to train with you and he accepts immediately, t & z sees yall training and gives him a small thumbs up before running off to do random stuff

- leaving you two alone

- you and him train quite well together when no one else is looking

- inosuke is actually enjoying himself without being aggressive and really wants to tell you he likes you now

- while you aren’t looking, he wants to run to tanjiro or zenitsu and ask them if it’s the right time but he stands frozen as you turn back around and look at him

- “are you alright, inosuke-chan?”

- “yeah! i’m fine! what about it?!”

- he gets super flustered but he’s still frozen in place

- he can’t stop himself, he really needs to tell you !!!!

—

“inosuke-chan .. are you alright?” you cock your head at his flustered state, giggling. “wh— yeah! i’m fine! what about it?!” he shouts, quickly snapped out of the trance he was in. he could feel his face burning underneath the boar mask he was wearing.

“you just seem, a little bit nervous is all.” you reply, gently picking up your sword once more. “i’m not nervous! why do you think i’m nervous?!” “well, maybe because you’re shouting.” you giggle again at his silly demeanor, he really was cute.

“it’s nothin’ … it’s just…” he freezes again, stiffening up as you stare at him intently. he knew you couldn’t see his face, he swallows hard. “it’s just..?” you try to continue his sentence and prod at him to finish, you watch him as he takes a stiff step closer to you.

he grumbles a little, before you see him grab his boar mask and gently pick it up over his head - exposing his (quite attractive) face. “oh! hello.” you grin at him and you notice the pink that had flushed his cheeks. playful banter was not unfamiliar in yalls relationship, but right now he seemed as serious as ever.

“i need to tell you somethin’ .. and you gotta promise you won’t laugh at me! or you’ll be dead!” you’re shocked a little at his tone and choice of words, but you brush it off and nod firmly at him as he continues. “i…” he groans embarrassingly as he shouts his final statement.

“i like you [name]!! you’re really cool!! and i want you to be my girlfriend right now!!”

your face burns at his confession, you drop your sword as you stare at him - lips parted gently. “you really mean that..?” you bring a hand up to your mouth as you take a step away from him. he watches your demeanor and he fears he must’ve done something wrong, why are you stepping away from him?

“yeah!! why? was that bad?” “no.. i.. i really like you too, inosuke-sama.. you’re, very talented.” the blush on his face has expanded by 10x and his ears are as red as strawberries once he hears your words. before he could reply mitsuri comes running up to you with tanjiro and zenitsu following behind.

tanjiro notices you and inosuke’s flushed faces and he realizes inosuke might’ve told you, he flashes inosuke a small smile signaling that he’s done the right thing and then focuses his attention back on mitsuri and you. zenitsu does the same.

mitsuri started to tell you about the training she’s teaching and how she needs you in there, so you must leave the boys alone to go with mitsuri. giving a quick side glance and smile at inosuke before leaving.

inosuke watches you as you walk off, tanjiro and zenitsu stay behind to talk with inosuke and what had happened. inosuke tells them everything frantically, moving his arms around as he speaks. they asked if you had accepted him, and he told them you hadn’t given him a full answer besides that you like him too.

they both smiled at him and told him that that was good, but that he has to get an official response from you that you’d like to date him. he gets a little irritated but eventually accepts, creating a plan to ask you again later. (and more appropriately this time)

—

once mitsuri’s training had ended you left her room along with the little girls trailing beside you, you quickly noticed inosuke down the hallway. he looked to be more clean from the training but was still wearing his casual attire. once he notices you’ve walked out of the room he makes his way towards you.

“hey [name]! i need to talk to you again.” you smile at his words and begin to follow him outside, where you both hop onto the roof of the ubuyashiki mansion. “yes..?” you shyly ask, sitting down beside him on the roof overlooking the forest ahead of you.

“i asked you the question earlier today but you never responded! so i must ask you again!” he shouts in your ear, stunned by his loud demeanor you place a hand on his arm to shush him and he immediately does. gawking at the physical touch before continuing more quietly.

“will you be my girlfriend [name]? i swear to treat you better than any boy here! i will be the best for you!” he confesses passionately, grabbing ahold of one of your hands.

you giggle and bring a hand up to your face to push your hair away before shyly looking back up at him, “i accept your proposal, inosuke-chan.. you’re quite the mess, but i can fix you up into shape in no time!” you laugh and cup both of his hands in your own and you can tell he’s smiling as the conversation continues.

once you both have finished your conversation on the roof, you’re signaled to go to bed. you both gently jump off the roof together and you grab ahold of his arm and walk in with him. he walks you to your room and you let go of him tiredly, he continues towards his after watching you go and explains the whole thing to tanjiro and zenitsu.

they cheer him on for officially swooping you off of your feet and charming you into another dimension, they celebrate by playing games together and nezuko watches intently as they do. eventually they all fall asleep and from then on out inosuke hashibira was now your boyfriend.

—

- now that you two are dating he makes it extremely obvious that you’re his

- but if you do that with him he gets sooo flustered

- “babe! stop that!”

- he’s like the kind of bf to be like “stooop im infront of my friends babe…!!”

- please don’t blame him for being different around you when he’s with tanjiro and zenitsu, he’s just a feral boy that wants to look cool

- but truly he loves you so much and you’re the only person he’d ever show his true emotions to

- you’re the person he crawls towards when he’s upset and when you lay his head down in your lap he’s melting under your touch

- he craves physical affection, words of affirmation, and gift giving sb

- give him everything please, he really needs you sometimes

- he does pretty well on his own, but he’s been on his own his whole life and he’s been waiting for someone like you even when he didn’t know it yet

- so back to where i said he makes sure to let everyone know you’re his

- what i mean by that is he’ll pick you up during training and sling you over his shoulder and jump around if either you or he wins a warmup

- “haha! you did it babe! you kicked the shit out of them! good job!”

- orrr

- “did you see that babe?! i was so cool! you better have been watching!”

- he likes it when you hold his arm but he moves them around so much he might accidently hit you !!

- he apologizes if he does though, he’d never hit you or hurt you in any way

- and if he did on accident he would immediately apologize and genuinely get so upset with himself

- he cares for you SO much it’s crazy, especially if you two have been together for a while afterwards

- he loves you to the moon and back and wouldn’t change anything about it, he’s still learning to love “properly” but he does well enough with you.

—

yay that’s it !! i love inosuke with alllll my heart, he’s the cutest !! lmk if u guys want more demon slayer fics !!

MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN !!!!!

#inosuke headcanons #inosuke x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer headcanons #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer x female reader #female reader #x reader #x female reader #inosuke hashiriba #inosuke x female reader #he’s so cute #feral boy loves his strong gf wifey #love them!!!#okay byeee :33 ^ ^#yuff7e

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bonny-kookoo · 11 months

Text

Jungkook

𝙁𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙇𝙞𝙣𝙚 | 🔞 Main Work

He's one of the best, no race too tough to handle, every track a new challenge he takes on- especially when it's you who's waiting at the finish line for him.

Tags/Warnings: Racer!Jungkook, established relationship, romance, suggestive themes, heavy flirting, adult content, mentions of online hate, only minor angst, they're a power couple, this MC is now my spirit animal, smut

Length: ~5k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

A/N: I know nothing about actual car racing. Pls don't take it too seriously, thanks haha 💗

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"But be real here-" A fellow driver asks, sitting down at the side now to pick up a water bottle. "-I always wondered, are you like, actually a couple?" He asks, taking a sip of his water, replenishing what he's sweat out during the training session with Jungkook and the other drivers.

Jungkook sighs to himself, before he gets into a sitting position, tapping the timer on his phone to a stop. He gets these questions a lot- whether or not you're in if for the right reasons, how good your pussy must be to have him put up with your annoying attitude all the time, or how someone like him isn't hooking up with models and actresses left and right. He's not sure why it's such an outrageous thing apparently to have a stable relationship, but somehow, if he just went by what magazines and online gossip-blogs report, it's apparently absolutely unthinkable to be in a normal loving relationship in his position.

But he is. And he intends to keep it that way for as long as you'll have him.

He loves you, dearly so. Your 'bad habits' and flaws are just as endearing to him as the rest of you, mainly because you were also there when he was just starting out, bank account almost always empty at every end of the month, rent barely being paid. You stayed even when he was at his lowest, you cheered him on when he won his first major race, and you consistently keep supporting him at every event you can. And to him, you're prettier than any model he could ever come across anyways.

"We're an actual couple indeed." Jungkook affirms, locking his phone before he screws open a plastic bottle of water himself.

"But like, isn't it a bit disappointing sometimes?" Jake asks him. "Like, I heard you never go to afterparties, and if you do it's always with her. You could have anyone, man." He laughs.

"You'll get there too, maybe." Jungkook chuckles simply, when the door opens, and familiar jingles of jewelry make him smile to turn around- and there you are, meeting his eyes with a smile, as he instantly moves to stand up.

"I bought you all your favorite snacks, and there's like, one of those electrolyte drinks there too." You say after pecking his lips with your strawberry flavored lipbalm, putting the white plastic bag into his hands. "You're not overdoing it, right?" You ask, and he grins, shaking his head.

"I'm almost finished anyways. You wanna wait up here? We can go back to the hotel together then." He asks you, gently pulling your hair out of your long earrings where some of it had gotten tangled. You let him, and wait for him to lean back as a sign that he's finished, before you answer.

"If it's not too much of a bother? There's already a bunch of paparazzi outside, I think someone might've leaked your location online.." You tell him, and he grows serious at that.

"Then you'll wait. I don't want you going back to the hotel alone if they're outside." He tells you now, not giving you another option. He remembers the last time you almost got mobbed at the airport, simply because you flew out the country a day after he did- and of course it created rumors and the wildest theories as to why that might've been the case. It's what happens to him constantly due to his status as the 'hottest race driver of his generation'.

One magazine reported that you apparently have been spotted fighting by someone at a restaurant, and that that could explain why you had sunglasses on during the airport walk- because you two probably broke up, and your eyes must've been swollen from crying. In reality, you always wore shades or shielded your eyes, because you're sensitive to the camera lights and the masses of people make you anxious, so you always try and blur them out somewhat.

Another online forum speculated that you two definitely broke up, and that it was long coming, because the hate must've gotten to you finally. That there's just no way you both could've ever worked out, and that it was just pushed by your parents so you'd have the most comfortable life imaginable. Your father allegedly introduced you to Jungkook at a press conference, which made Jungkook laugh.

True, your parents know each other- but only because you're a couple, and obviously became closer over the years of dating. It didn't make sense that you both just became a couple so you'd have it easy, when he's mentioned multiple times that you both have been dating for way longer than the span of his career.

And then, that one gossip site that pushed the narrative that he cheated on you at the last afterparty. That there's images from the event where he can be seen with a woman with long dark hair that's definitely not you, and that you most likely found out and kicked him out- and just flew out to start a new life in a different country.

That one made him angry.

The woman he'd been seen with was Mingyu's mother- his best friend whom he'd helped out the burning wreck of his car after he'd crashed into the side barriers. She'd simply been there to thank him, and he'd hugged her just as a way of reassuring her that he'd always be there for any of his teammates, no matter what. And that specific website constantly stirred up cheating allegations- either at him, or you, it didn't matter. Clearly edited photos, alleged video evidence that didn't even show you both at all, it was stupid, really.

He's lucky that you don't instantly believe anything you see. Up until now, you always confronted him first if there was anything you were concerned about. And you trusted him, just as much as he trusted you.

Finishing up his workout, he takes the towel you offer with a thanks, deciding to ignore Jake's stares at your tits for now, since it doesn't appear to bother you at all. And honestly, he can understand. They do look great.

And they feel even better- but that's only for him to know.

The moment you both exit the gym they're all there- and he instantly moves you slightly behind him to properly shield you from anyone trying to reach out to you, which has happened often enough before to make him now hyperaware of it. But you somehow make it into the car waiting to take him back to the hotel without anything happening- though the questions hurled at you both from every side do annoy him to high heavens.

Jungkook are you still together?

Jungkook did you both talk things out?

Jungkook did you really cheat on her?

Jungkook-

"Jungkook." You ask him, and he moves his head to you now. "I asked you if we wanted to take a bath at the hotel? The tub is huge!" You beam at him, and at the sight of you all genuinely happy and carefree, he smiles, nodding, before he takes your hand to hold.

As long as you're still there, everything's fine.

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"Oh god-" You breath out, hand in his hair while he's gripping your thighs over his shoulders to keep them open.

Your panties are still hanging from one of your ankles, toes curled as he licks and swallows over your core, orgasm rapidly approaching you as he places a teasing kiss to your sensitive pearl. He moves around with ease, slips out of his pants rather quickly before he pushes your legs towards you once more, aligning himself with your entrance after lubing himself up shamelessly with your arousal he's gathered with his hand.

He doesn't need to rid you of any clothes- he's done that already.

You always joke that the secret to your happy relationship is back-breaking sex and good cooking- but sometimes, you actually believe it.

It's his main way of relieving stress- he's told you as much before. And he also enjoys the more romantic and sensual aspects of it, the closeness to you, and the knowledge that it's something special just between the two of you. It's always a little playful, unserious, light and relaxing, especially afterwards- the shared afterglow you both experience always something special where you both reconnect and bond once more. It's like you grow closer every time you're together like this.

Even though, according to him, that's impossible.

"Gonna.. wanna take you to the movies..!" He grits out, leaning back while while he holds your legs by the backs of your knees, thrusting his hips steadily into you. "Ah, fuck.."

"Can I- can I choose?" you giggle in pleasure, hands over your head grabbing the pillows while he watches your chest swing in the rhythm of his pace.

"Hm, I don't know.." He mumbles, leaning over you now after letting go of your legs to peck your cheek. "What do you wanna watch?" He wonders, before mouthing at your neck.

"Right now?" You hum dreamily, closing your eyes at the sensations of it all. "Wanna watch you." You say, and he chuckles against your skin, hands next to your head steadying him as he slows down a bit to a more sensual rhythm, though he presses himself deeper at the same time, making you arch your back as your legs hook together over his back.

"You're so cute." He teases, one of his hands moving to run over your chest, playfully smacking one of them once to earn a squeak from you- and laughter from him.

"Kook-!" You whine, and he mimics your tone a little, before his hand moves over your body between your legs where you're currently connected, fingers toying around with you. "Yes-!" You beg, thighs pressing together against his body, before you reach your high, muscles twitching from the feeling, while he becomes a bit more erratic now with your core clenching around his length.

He cums a little afterwards, pulling out before he spills his seed over your lower abdomen, the sight always doing something to him.

"You know, I really wanna go to that premiere that I was invited to with you." He says after taking a deep breath and running a hand through his hair, getting up after leaning over you to peck your lips twice- because once is never really enough for him.

"Heh, you know I'll always be at your side if you want me there." You sing-song, stretching your limbs while he turns on the water in the bathtub, door open to be able to hear you. "So, if you wanna take me, of course I'll be your arm-candy!" You chirp, and he smiles as he returns with some babywipes in his hands to wipe down your skin.

"I always want you at my side." He tells you gently, careful with the rather cold wipes on your skin. "And I'm glad you're still willing to put up with me and this whole thing." He shrugs, throwing the tissues away in the trashcan.

"Why wouldn't I?" You wonder up at him as he hooks his hands underneath your back and legs to carry you into the bathroom of the hotel room you're staying at, to help you into the tub.

"Why would you?" He sighs, getting into the tub as well, unscrewing the small bottle of soap offered by the hotel to pour it into the water. "I sometimes really wonder how.. strong you must be to just constantly put up with all the things said about you and me." He says, pulling you closer to him as the bubbles form with the water pouring in. "…I was really scared, you know." He mumbles onto your skin before he kisses your shoulder.

"Of what?" You ask, unsure.

"When the rumor spread of me cheating. I always.. get worried you might become doubtful of me when things like these are said." He admits to you, before you turn around in his arms, his hands immediately on your hips.

"I'm not worried though." You simply tell him, running your hands through his hair before they settle around his neck. "I trust you." You shrug, and he moves his hands up to hold your cheeks, pulling you closer to kiss you until you giggle, pushing against his pecks to get him away. "Kook no-" You laugh, but he whines.

"But I want to love my girlfriend!" He complains.

"You just did!" You argue back, and he plays with his lip rings for a second.

"But you deserve more." He purrs, trying a little more.

"And my pussy needs a break!" You respond back, making him laugh. This is why he loves you so much- why he loves your relationship so much. Living with you is easy, it's relaxing, it's light and it takes his mind off of all the worries he has.

Because when he's with you, it's like none of it matters. He can just fall into your arms and trust you to catch him every single time.

And you do. Just like right now, as you kiss him until the water cools down, and the bubbles are all gone.

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Something he's never really told you is the amount of people trying to get to you- through him of all people.

Mainly because everyone still somewhat believes the most common rumor that you're just a sugar baby kind of situation- that you're up for anyone, as long as the numbers fit your standards. It's infuriating really, makes his blood boil because what else does he have to do to make people take you both seriously? It's not even just the fact that they apparently don't take him seriously as your partner- but that they really think you'd be someone to use others for money, just because you're not the quiet sweet person in the background who they can bully around.

But he has a plan. Foolproof, really, and he's wanted to do that this year anyways.

"I need my good-luck-kiss.." He teases, keeping you close to him.

"Well if we had enough time I'd give you the whole good-luck-menu, but you gotta go get ready now." You giggle while he bites at your neck.

"Not yet.." He complains, already in his overalls, helmet on the bench close by. You're hiding behind a corner like schoolkids attempting not to get caught skipping class, and he admits that you both do this a lot. He just can't get enough, and today especially, he just wants to make sure the cameras can see his marks on you, and know that they're his. "Will you watch the race?" He asks, and you giggle.

"Of course. I always do." You promise, and he grins, before he pecks your lips one last time, finally getting ready.

You're standing in the VIP spots, watching closely how he starts the race, seemingly a bit behind. But he's pushy, he always is, competitiveness not letting him lose without a fight. And fighting he does, quickly catching up as he squeezes past several other competitors, making your pulse rise quite a bit. Truth be told, you always worry- especially after his friend's last accident that you witnessed that day. The race had been interrupted because of it, and had been decided to be re-started at a later date once Mingyu had fully recovered.

He only sustained minor injuries, cracked a rib and a minor concussion, but nothing else. But the sight of the car will stay in your head for quite a while.

You have nightmares, sometimes. Of Jungkook being in a wreck like that, flames swallowing his broken body whole, and you can't do anything to save him. That's most likely the biggest reason you're always a little on edge whenever he drives. You know he's a good driver, of course he is- but still. You can't help but worry.

Not that you'll ever tell him. He doesn't need about something stupid like that.

It's not even half an hour in, and a black flag is waved at a blue car lagging behind. There's smoke coming from the back wheels- so he's asked to leave the tracks and drive into his pit box, which he promptly does to get his vehicle inspected. It seems to be a more serious issue however- because the announcer suddenly explains that the racer named Jake Pitcher won't return to the tracks.

Time passes by, and the race goes on without much interruption. Everyone follows the rules, flags are waved left and right to navigate things happening, and your eyes occasionally lose sight of the mainly red and black hyundai Jungkook is driving, though you always find him again at the very top, leading the race. It's after the second pit stop that a driver in a sky-blue Toyota is becoming visibly more aggressive, especially towards Jungkook.

It's alright to be a bit pushy, you've learned that that's the norm- but this guy is putting other drivers in danger with just how close he's pressing himself against Jungkook's back and another's side.

But this is the sport. It's an aggressive one, and the rules about how to race are pretty grey.

Someone crashes, a yellow and green racecar you've seen earlier. The vehicle spins on the ground in donuts a few times before it comes to a stop on the grass, and the team is visibly running around to sort things out. It's announced that the driver is awake and alert, and doesn't seem injured- and the car is towed safely away, one lane closed until everything is cleared once more, caution in place for now causing everyone to slow down a little until the track is cleared again.

Jungkook had crashed before. Multiple times, even. He's cracked ribs, bruised his body, broken bones. Never anything too serious- but enough to remind you every time how dangerous his career is. You hate that side of it, and sometimes you really wish he would just call it quits- but you also understand that he's passionate about this, that this is his dream.

You'll always remember his worst crash- the way his car had flown through the air rolling around like it was nothing but a toy, front wheels almost pulled off entirely- and your fear inside your bones as it took him ages it felt like to climb out of the wreck, surprisingly unscathed, only bruised badly in some spots.

He was on a stretcher that day, a safety precaution even though he turned out mostly fine. You remember not even having the energy to scold him in hospital, crying at his side for hours it felt like until he'd managed to calm you down enough, his laugh teasing as he'd helped you wipe off your ruined makeup before going back to the hotel later to sleep- your body even clingier than ever before.

It's his fourth pit stop. Things are looking good- this time the car seems to be holding up a lot better than last time when he only made the third place, and the commenters seem to recognize that too. Jungkook is the only one bringing a car of his type on the track after all- it's basically the talk of town every time he participates. He went from being a joke to a true competitor nowadays- finally being taken seriously on the tracks, and you know Jungkook relishes in the feeling of it.

He loves to win, after all. Even if it's just the respect of others.

Suddenly, something happens in the front. The toyota pushes too hard, too far to the side, and it breaks the current leader completely into the barriers as the car loses control, dragging several cars with him- And as your eyes search for the familiar red and black car with white font written all over it, you find it.

There's a lot of smoke, several cars unable to continue, a driver exits his own on the grassy spot in the middle, throwing his helmet in frustration. Jungkook's car is scratched, badly, a slight crack in front, but he's still driving- seemingly having escaped with nothing but some minor damage. He's slowed down just like everyone else now, entire track under major caution as the damage to a lot of other car's is being inspected, several people now left out with their cars damaged too hard to compete any longer.

Jungkook seems just a bit out of breath from the shock from what you can see on the screens, now in the pit box where tape is placed over a break in the front over the scratches, car being refueled and inspected just to make sure. He gives a thumbs up when asked if he's alright- a nod given to other questions. According to a commenter, he's asking for any serious injuries in other drivers- but there are none, so he's reassured that everyone's alright and up walking around.

Caution is lifted, green flag waved. The fight is back on, speed increasing as they once more go back full force, pushing and mixing up the order in which they're making their way towards the finish line.

It's the last stretch now, and things are getting clearly heated on the tracks. From clear pushing to forceful passing, scratches and bumps can probably be found on every car after this race is done. There's a fight happening now, and Jungkook is not backing down from anyone- now doubling down, and pressing himself towards the front. He's not as impolite as some other drivers further back, but he still bites, clearly so- currently passing another car, the white flag waved as he presses himself against his competitor.

One round left.

You can practically feel the tension now, pulse racing just as quickly as his car drives as he pushes himself further and further up front. He's in second place. That's most likely the spot he'll make.

Or?

It's almost in the last second it seems like when he manages to outrun the Chevrolet he's been pushing against next to- the black and white checkered flag waved, Jungkook's name being called as everyone cheers.

He made it. His team cheers- but you're frozen in time.

Because this is also a win for you, every singe time. Your prize is the fact that he's unscathed, that he's okay, that nothing happened. Fireworks light up the sky, when suddenly, he turns the car, covers the track in white smoke from his wheels, a full on spin one of his by now signature winning gestures.

His team runs towards him, pulls down the window gate to congratulate him as he climbs out, pulling his gloves off before he takes off his helmet and climbs on the roof of his car, clearly excited over the win. The interview is easy, as he answers questions thanks his team, before he becomes nervous, visibly, shaking his hands a little. "You still seem rather emotional from the race!" The interviewer jokes, and Jungkook nods, before he runs a hand over his face, bracing himself it seems like.

"Yeah that too, but uh- I made myself a little challenge too, you know?" He laughs. "I promised myself if I won this race, I'd.. do something I've been chickening out of for quite a while now." He explains, and you become a bit nervous now, unsure what he's trying to say. You're making your way down now to where his team is too, now closer and in sight as Jungkook grins to himself.. almost shy?

A member of his crew gives him something, and you become suspicious when he walks towards you now, because that stupid grin he has on his face just spells trouble in bold capital letters.

"You put up with so much shit, you know?" Jungkook tells you over the sound of people cheering and the commentator telling the crowd what's happening- everyone now curious. "You really do- and I don't think there's anyone out here in this world that can really love me like you do." He offers, and you laugh to yourself. "Don't laugh! I'm serious!" He complains, making some crewmembers laugh. "Either way, I might've won the race, but do you know what prize I'd really like instead?" He wonders, before he moves to drop to one knee.

"You, as my wife." He tells you, slightly dirty black box containing a ring.

And suddenly, the world seems to quiet down entirely as you nod, watching in fascination as he puts the ring on your finger in front of thousands.

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"Jungkook you're speeding!" You whine as he laughs in the driver's seat, sunglasses shielding his eyes from the weather.

"Babe I'm actually way below the limit, what're you talking about?" He chuckles, always a little amused by the irony of your fear of him driving- him, a professional racecar driver. "It's an RV, not a racecar. Relax a bit." He says, taking your hand to kiss the back of it before he continues to hold it.

He's taking some time off- spending a vacation in europe with you, having rented an RV for some quality camping that he's always wanted to do with you. Now that his relationship status had been officially upgraded so to speak, rumors have died down- the thrill seemingly left now that he's made it more than clear that he's taking it seriously with you, even though he always has.

"Still, can't you drive a bit slower?" You worry, and he shakes his head.

"No can do darling. But we only have half an hour to go anyways, so we're almost there." He tells you.

"Half an hour can feel like a lifetime though.." You pout quietly, and at that, he runs his thumb over the back of your hand.

"Were you scared when they all crashed?" He asks, and you nod.

"I searched for your car right away. You can't believe how I felt when I saw you come through that cloud of smoke and car-parts almost unharmed." You whine. "I hate that I'm always so scared. I don't want you to feel bad when you drive-" You worry, and he laughs.

"You're not making me feel bad, don't worry." He shakes his head. "I can understand how hard that must be to watch though. Just like I said, I'll never understand how you put up with me and my shit." He offers, and you shrug.

"I don't know either." You huff. "You constantly bully me." You complain.

"I don't bully you!" Jungkook argues scandalized.

"You constantly make fun of my height, and you laugh when I'm scared, and you slap my ass in front of everyone no matter who!" You say, and he shrugs.

"It's a nice ass, what can I say?" He defends himself, making you glare at him. "Hey come on, you can't possibly blame me, you slap my ass too!" He argues back to you.

"That's cause you deserve it!" You respond.

"And you don't?" He wonders.

"Absolutely not. I'm an angel!" You state, and he laughs theatrically.

"You might get down on your knees regularly but you're not a saint-" He jokes, making you roll your eyes. "-see? And a brat too.!" He teases.

"Yeah well if you're not nice to me I won't suck your dick for the entire trip." You threaten. "Not even once." You state, making him pout playfully.

"Not even the tip?"

"Won't even touch your balls." You respond, and he whines.

"Oh no! Anything but that!" He complains, finally driving towards the entrance of the camping spot. "What do I have to do to gain back the sacred touch of my soon-to-be-wife?" He asks, having parked the RV now, and taken off his glasses.

"..you can start by giving her a nice kiss." You tell him. "But a good one. With feelings and all- the whole menu." You demand, and at that he leans over the middle, careful not to touch anything and cause an accident, pulling you closer by your neck.

"Well-" He smiles warmly at you. "-that's easy."

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"So how have you always dealt with all the hate and rumors about you both? That must've been pressuring!" A paparazzi asks you as you stand right next to your by now husband, who's just made the second place in his latest race.

"Oh, I just look at him naked to remind myself why it's all worth it in the end!" You beam happily at them, Jungkook laughing loudly next to him.

Yeah- you're really one of a kind.

And he doesn't mind spending the rest of his life with you.

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#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts smut #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #bts jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fanfic

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getitoutofmymindwrites · 6 months

Text

The crushing | joel miller x f!reader, 5.2k

Summary: This is the story of a man who had everything in the palm of his hand and traded it all for an empty space in the hollow of his heart. Or This story follows Joel, two to three years after he cheated on his wife.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, ANGST, cheater!Joel, Joel's POV, this is NOT “The Falling” from Joel's POV, brief mention of smut (p i v) but nothing too graphic (I think), self-loathing, depression, therapy, flashbacks and memories from the past, alcohol consumption, Tommy being a supportive brother (eventually), as always let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Ok, so, Joel gave me a whiplash on this one, he was either staring at me through the screen giving me nothing, or he was mumbling unintelligibly in my ear while I was trying to keep up with him. It started out as a final chapter, but I really think that this part should be Joel's POV and the next and -probably- final one should be the resolving, however that may come. I guess it can be read as a standalone, but if you're interested, it's a sequel to “The Falling”. I edited it seven thousand times because I kept adding things along the way, so I hope it all makes some sense and there are not too many mistakes.. Thank you for taking the time to read anything I write! Love you all! 🥰😘

P.S.: I just wanted to take a moment and let you know that I really appreciate everyone who has read, liked, commented, reblogged and asked about “The Falling”. I honestly didn't think a single soul would take the time to read that kind of story. It means more than you know and I didn’t take lightly how close to home this fic hit for some people; yet you’ve given it a chance, sharing some of your own experiences with me. I love you all, take care and I'll see you -hopefully- in the comments! 🥹🫂

Dividers by @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics

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...need your reassurance...

...your only focus…

...for the foreseeable future...

He did make it his sole focus. Because of course, he closed the deal, even after he left that damn table like a madman. He still found a way to get what he wanted. That's the man he was. And he wasn't sure if he hated himself for it or not. But self-loathing was a daily occurrence now, so one more reason added to the list was nothing he couldn't handle.

For two years he would wake up every day, is it called waking up if he doesn’t sleep at all?, he would work his ass off, he would go home, he would sink into despair and then he would start all over again the next day. A vicious cycle consisting of 730 days in a row. The deafening silence within the walls of the house was excruciating, the loneliness was unbearable. Even the light penetrating through the windows seemed different than when you were there with him, a dullness surrounding every corner of the now barely lived in space.

You. He hadn’t seen your face in 730 days. He hadn’t smelled your scent or touched your soft skin. He barely listened to your voice anymore, any form of unavoidable communication, you preferred to be conducted by the lawyers, or via text messages, at the most. At the 731st one, he finally knew, something had to change. He couldn’t repeat another day, like all the others that came and went. He simply couldn’t.

Tommy suggested that therapy might help Joel, a few times, but he refused every one of them. Maria was keeping her distance, her place was delicate, being his brother’s wife but also his wife’s best friend. Surprisingly, she was the one who finally got through to him.

“Are you gonna stay a recluse for the rest of your miserable life, then?” Maria wonders, switching her gaze between Joel and the dining room. Everything was untouched, as you left them when you moved out, but the place felt empty, depressing, probably mirroring Joel’s existence.

Joel sighs, closing his eyes briefly. “I’m not a recluse..”, he snarls through his teeth, rolling his eyes at her. He was more than eager to be done with the dinner his sister-in-law insisted on having in his house and be left alone, in his natural state. Alone. Infuriating woman.

“What do you call that?”, Maria persists, goddamn lawyer to the bone.

“What?!” Joel spits back pissed off, looking at his brother next, for support.

“That!” she gestures around his body and his surroundings. “The way you go on for the past two years! Either get over it or do something about it!”, she doesn’t hold back, even when Tommy proposes a gentler approach. Yeah, look where it got you, is the paid answer, so Tommy steps back, shaking his head and raising his hands up in surrender.

“You’ve got him on a leash, hm?”, Joel jokes absentmindedly, “Can you breathe alright, Tommy boy?”, earning himself a hard glare from Maria.

“Maybe the wrong Miller is on a leash..” Maria mutters, causing Tommy’s eyes to widen in horror.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”, Joel retorts doing a double back at her.

“Means that freedom is for those who can bear it.”, Maria throws her napkin on her plate and leaves the room. Joel remains silent, pondering the meaning of her words. It would be a long time before he understood what she meant.

Therapy was hard.

Therapy was hard because he had to do it for himself. He had to concentrate on himself. He thought, being the contractor that he was, that he would walk into the room, get the answers he needed and fix his marriage, just as he rearranged the bricks and the wood and the steel on the construction sites.

But this wasn’t about his marriage. His marriage and the way it crumbled down was the aftermath, he came to learn. It was the outcome of insecurities, selfishness, lack of communication, ungratefulness.

He got it all wrong. Everything. Every little thing. He had to rewire his brain and change every point of view he was holding onto. Honesty. Honesty was the key.

“Why didn’t you reach out to your wife after that night?”, his therapist insists.

“I respected her boundaries.”, Joel was quick to respond.

“And what were those?”

“She didn’t want to see me.”

“Did she say that?”

“No-, I mean-, the way she left that night, she didn’t say much in general. But she blocked my number, so.”, he shrugs in defence.

“So, how can you be so sure that she didn't want to see you? Even if you're right, it doesn't mean that she didn't expect a reaction from you, or that you weren't allowed to try, if that’s what you wanted.”

“Why would she? I upset her, she needed time to think, work things out.”, Joel explains.

The therapist swipes her fingers over her lips, contemplating her approach. “Joel, you walk into your bedroom, into what is supposed to be a safe place and you see your partner with another person in an intimate moment. How does that make you feel? Just say the first words that come to mind.”, his therapist changes the point of view.

Joel shudders just at the thought of it. You, naked, flushed, lips parted and swollen, skin sweaty, breaths short and pupils blown wide, coming for anyone other than him. It would utterly destroy him. “Furious, pissed, betrayed, heartbroken.. I think I would lose it, if I’m honest.” he admits instantly, in his haste to throw the abomination of this image from his thoughts.

“I see. But in her case, you think your wife was just upset?”

“No, of course not.” Joel slightly frowns, shaking his head.

“Do you think she felt all those feelings that you just described to me?”

“I believe so, yes.”, god this is so hard.

“You believe so?” the therapist pushes, again.

Joel’s nostrils flare from the sharp inhale, “I know so.”

“So, she wasn’t just upset.” the therapist concludes and Joel agrees without meeting her eyes, “No, she wasn’t.”

Over time, Joel came to realize that his choice of words was a subconscious attempt to diminish the seriousness of his actions.

“You said in a previous session that you gave space to your wife to work things out.”

“Yeah, it was only fair.”, Joel confirms.

“So, it was hard for you to give her that space?”

“Yes, of course, I missed her every day.”

“Was that a constant in your relationship?”, the therapist wonders.

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow.”

“How did you work things out as a couple, before? I assume you had difficult times as partners, no?”

“Nothing major to be honest, my wife was a very calm and reasonable person. If anything occurred she would talk to me about it.”

“And how did you respond to that?”

“Uh, I was there to listen, we always found a solution together as a couple.”

“Hmhm, so, what changed this time?”

“What do you mean?” He knew exactly what she meant.

“Why didn’t you talk to her? Communicate with her? Maybe help her see your side of things, like you did before, find your way out of this together, as partners.” his therapist explains. “And even before the infidelity, did you let her know that something was bothering you, that you felt differently?”

"I didn't feel differently about my wife. My feelings for her never changed.", he immediately corrects her. "My love for her was never the problem," he confesses and it's the first time since his therapy began that he's shared something so personal, so private.

“But there was a problem, something was wrong if you felt the need to be intimate with another woman. So, why did you keep that from her?”

Joel opens his mouth already knowing he does not have an answer. Or that he doesn't want to give one. He shakes his head, raising his brows in a silent admission that he can’t answer that. Or he won't. His gaze is fixed on a loose thread on the fabric of the couch, his fingers keep picking on it.

“Joel?”

“I- I don’t know what you want me to say, I don’t know.” he keeps shaking his head. He can’t answer that. He won't.

He was so angry when he left the session that day. He was so angry at you. He was angry at your honesty, your clarity, your courage to have a mind of your own and to speak it freely, knowing full well that probably no one else shared the same opinions as you did. That's what he loved most about you, but now he hated it.

“Own it, Joel. Own what you have done. At least that way it will be worth something. Otherwise it was all for nothing.”

This was one of the last things you said to him on the phone, while he was trying to persuade you to change your mind about the divorce. You were always so brave about those matters. Matters of the heart, of integrity. He remembers you always talking about things that he found admirable but utopian. Easy in theory, hard in practice.

“I need to be able to sleep at night. I need to own my decisions; not because I’m always right, far from it, but at least I know I’m being honest with myself. And that matters.” he recalls one of your late-night talks.

You usually found it easier to share your most vulnerable thoughts once you were thoroughly fucked and satiated. When Joel held you in his arms, your breaths almost shared over the same pillow, your scents and your fluids mixed together.

“We’re all imperfect beings, flawed; we all feel embarrassed when we fuck up,” you continue, “it’s hard to admit our mistakes to others, I get that. But deep down we always know what we’re doing and why we’re doing it. Admitting it only helps us to be present in our lives.”

“Be present?”, Joel seems fascinated by the way your mind weaves your thoughts together into deeply rooted beliefs.

“Yes, my love, there's no greater freedom than to live your life truthfully.” you smile at him, softly. Your sleepy eyes roam his face affectionately. Your fingertips caress his jawline, your thumb pressing lightly against the bare patch of his beard. He can feel your devotion pouring from your fingers and sinking into his skin at that moment.

“That’s one of my greatest fears, you know. Living my life in ignorance, in a lie.”, you whisper your deepest insecurity against his soft lips. His hold on you tightens as he rolls you onto your back, nestling his hips between your welcoming thighs. You are safe in these arms. His arms. You surrender to him, body and soul. You can feel his growing erection pressing between your folds, already wet from your combined releases. He tenderly brushes his lips against yours and slowly licks his way into your parted mouth, as he intertwines his fingers with yours. He enters you in one fluid, slow thrust, his warm exhale cooling your wet lips. “Then let me give you something real.”

Thinking back to those moments, Joel couldn't reconcile himself to the fact that he was the one who had brought that fear of yours to life. What broke him was that it was not a lie. Your life together had not been a lie. He loved you. In fact, he was burning up for you. He was a man of control, but not with you. Never with you. You consumed his every thought; being around you for too long made his lungs constrict in pain, begging for a deep breath. Sometimes he was worried sick that if he completely let himself love you like he needed to, he would suffocate you. He loved you. And it killed him that his actions suggested otherwise.

But at some point he had to be honest with himself. He was just protecting his ego. He was trying to get the upper hand out of a shitty, compromising situation. He wasn't being thoughtful, he was being selfish. He was biding his time. He thought the longer he left ‘it’ untouched, the less it would hurt when the inevitable time of confrontation came. He was scared out of his mind that he would lose you forever. No second chances, no redemption, no reconciliation.

No lingering scent on his pillow as your hair pools there, under his chin, as you nestle your face between his neck and shoulder, breathing him in. No laughter through the enormous house, damn, why did he build it so big; you never clarified what the disbelief in your eyes meant when he said he built this house for you, while he pulls you up on your feet for a silly cowboy dance.

No more gentle touches, no more noses brushing together as a silent goodbye in the kitchen before you rush off to work. No more turning around just before you open the door to leave, running to him like a little girl, giving him quick, hungry pecks on the lips while he laughs on your mouth, squeezes your butt cheek and slaps it playfully to say goodbye. Later, baby, he would promise you, his teeth nipping at your earlobe and he could feel your skin crawling with anticipation.

No more I love yous, either breathed, either whispered, either panted, as he makes a home for himself inside your warmth.

When did he fuck you last? He used to have you every day. You craved it every day. You craved him. Why did he stop telling you he loved you every chance he got? When was the last time you said it?

A week before that fateful night, when you touched him longingly, aching for him to touch you back and he told you he had work to do, he wasn’t a teenager anymore. Why the hell did he say that? Why did he sit there and watch the light fading from your eyes? I love you, you said with a sigh against his temple and walked out of his office defeated. Why did you say that? Did you know? Did you suspect? Why didn’t you fight him? You should have said something, anything, pushed him, punched him in the chest, woken him up. Would he have woken up? Or did he need that to come to his senses? Does he have to fall? Does this falling ever stop? Does he have to let you go? Will you come back to him? Does he deserve you?

Days blurred seamlessly into one another. Joel drifted further and further away from everyone. The house haunted him, all the progress he was making within the therapy walls was dissipating once he stepped inside the cold space of his empty house. Leaving the confines of it was his first thought in the morning, while he hurriedly dressed to go to his office far earlier than necessary and his last when he closed his eyes, as he laid his weary limbs on the couch, chasing still your now long gone scent on its fabric, knowing another sleepless night was his only companion until the first rays of sunlight hit the floor-to-ceiling windows to announce the beginning of another day.

People at work tiptoed around him, not knowing how to act. It was as if he was there, but not really. He was focused solely on the Marks project, mechanically going through board meetings, paperwork and supervising the construction site. He. Just. Wasn’t. There.

Joel, will you please sign the papers?

He simply stares at the text message for a good full minute, his thumbs hovering over the screen of his phone. This was one of the rare occasions you had initiated communication with him, always about the progress of the divorce.

No, no, I won’t, the little toddler in him screams, stamping his little feet on the ground.

The papers are not ready.

Joel texts back. He keeps it simple, frightened he might not get an answer back.

Joel, we both know they are. I don’t want any of your assets or your money; this is an easy signature, please.

An easy signature? You think he cares about the houses, or the cars, or the money?

You know I can’t accept that. The house is yours and so is a good part of the money.

The point was to share this house together, Joel, don’t you think us splitting up kind of defeats the purpose? And what on earth makes you think I would ever want to go back in there?

So, there’s nothing I can do to make this easier for you?

Easier? You think money or property can make up for what you’ve done?

Of course not, I wasn’t implying anything like that. Just wanna do something for you, anything.

Can you turn back time?

Of course, he can't. So, he doesn't know what to say to that. He just keeps staring at the screen, lost in thought. After 2 minutes another text follows.

You know I can’t..

Sign the papers. Please.

“Is there anything in particular you want to talk about today, or should I take the lead?”

“Actually I’ve been thinking a lot about that night.”, Joel suggests for the first time. He usually lets the therapist decide where to steer the conversation, then simply refuses to elaborate until he feels ready to talk.

“What about it?”, he shifts his gaze from the window to the direction of her voice.

“I should probably rephrase that. I’m always thinking about that night, repeating it in my head again and again and I’m troubled by something I realized.”

His therapist nods to signal that she's listening.

“Why did she just leave? The more I think about it, the more it doesn’t make sense to me. She just left. No shouting, no breaking things, no attacking either me or-”, her. “Why she didn’t stay? Why she didn’t insist that I leave? She was just- so quiet.”

The therapist smiles in recognition of Joel's near breakthrough. They were beginning to get somewhere, his empathy nudging him under the surface.

“I'm really glad you mentioned that, Joel, so I'd like to take you back to that night and try to understand what might have been going through your wife's mind at that moment," she explains.

“So, she walks into the house, finds her safe space violated by her husband, and she chooses to handle the situation calmly and quietly-” Joel tries to stop her, but she already knows what he's going to ask. “I can't tell you why she chose that path, that's for her to answer, only she knows why.” His therapist continues, “She is making one request of you and one request only, can you tell me what it is?”

“She asked me to leave the house.”

“Hmhm.” the therapist looks at him expectantly.

“I just wanted to talk to her.”, Joel elaborates, “I thought that if I refused to leave, she would accept to listen to me.”

“So you forced your needs on her, while she was in a particularly fragile state of mind.”

“I should have made my intentions clearer, you mean?”

“I mean, that maybe you shouldn’t have had any expectations in the first place. Why do you think was so important to you, to explain yourself right at that moment?”

“Because I knew it was probably the last time I would see her for a while, I just wanted to ease her pain, why is that so wrong? Should I be indifferent? Would that be better?”

“Did it ever occur to you that you might be depriving her of her right to choose?” Come on, Joel, break some eggs.

Joel now begins to make connections. He rubs his hand over his face, the realization of what has really happened crushing him. “Oh, god, I-” He's been so selfish from the start. He hasn't shown you any respect, not even at this delicate moment. He didn't give you a choice as to whether you wanted to listen to him or not. He didn't even let you choose where you wanted to stay. He just made you leave the house. Did he make you believe he wanted you to leave? That he wanted her to stay? Because he didn’t. Fuck. “-I never thought about it like that.”

Fuck.

How could he be so blind? Why was he so blind?

His therapist insisted on it. Because no matter how much progress Joel made over the course of a year, he never revealed the true reason behind his infidelity.

“Joel, we’ve talked about a lot of things; you’ve tried really hard to make this all about your wife and about understanding what she was feeling and how your actions have affected her, but as I keep reminding you”, she smiles understandingly, “you’re the one in therapy, you need to heal your wounds before you even attempt to heal hers. And although it is in fact a really noble thought, this” she gestures between them, “can only work if you do it for yourself. I know it may sound selfish, but I promise you, it is not. It is the exact opposite.”

Fuck.

“Yeah?”, his voice hoarse from sleep as he answers the door after the insistent knock at it. Tommy looks at him surprised once he opens it, “You’re sleeping, already?”. No, he wasn’t. He wouldn’t call it that. But when he goes almost a week without any proper rest, passing out is the right word for what he’s doing. “Yeah, I guess I dosed off..” Joel lies. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you.” Tommy responds as he squeezes himself through the door to enter the house. “Yeah, sure, come on in.”, Joel mutters under his breath. “You just saw me at work this morning, is everything all right?”

“I just came to check on you.” Tommy confesses uncomfortably.

“You could have called.”

“Would you have answered?” Tommy deadpans.

Touché.

“Tell Maria I’m fine, Tommy, no need to worry about me; go spend the night where it counts.”, Joel replies in an attempt to push him away, as he walks farther into the house, rounding the kitchen island.

“Hey, brother, I’m here, I am here for you.” Tommy’s eyes narrow in pain and concern as he stares at his sibling's back, following behind him.

Joel exhales hard through his nose, his grip tight as he grabs the edges of the counter, his head lowering between his shoulder blades.

“You shouldn’t, nobody should.” Joel sighs, rubbing the pads of his fingers across his forehead.

“Ok, that’s enough.” Tommy snaps at him. “Enough self-loathing, enough resignation. Enough. You’ve punished yourself enough.”

Joel laughs at that. “Is that right? Is it enough for you? What about her?” he asks, his head turned to the side, looking at his brother over his shoulder.

“What?” Tommy is genuinely confused.

Joel turns his back, resting his waist on the edge of the counter, now looking straight at Tommy. “I should have what? Just get on with my life? Let it all be water under the bridge? Disrespect her even more?”

“Jesus..” Tommy mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand, the other resting on his hip, his eyes shut in frustration.

“Are you doing this for her? Does she even know that?”

“It doesn’t matter, Tommy!” Joel raises his voice, exasperated. “I’m not doing this for her, I’m not doing anything for her, apparently and that’s the problem.”, his voice breaks, the lump in his throat too big to push down. “She’s not here anymore, Tommy.” he’s standing fully on his feet now, pushing himself away from the counter, leaning slightly forward, like he’s trying to make his brother understand; his eyes are glazed, Tommy had never seen him so devastated before. “She’s gone. I’ve lost her.”, his palms clenched in fists in front of his chest, resisting the urge to wrap them around his shirt and rip it to shreds, as he wants to do with his heart.

“I thought therapy was working..” Tommy whispers, his eyes dropping to the floor beneath him.

“Oh, it’s working, all right!” Joel chuckles in irony, sniffing his nose. “I’m getting a front-row seat, witnessing what a piece of shit I am-”

“Hey!” Tommy tries to cut him off.

“-what on earth was she doing with me to begin with, is beyond me.”

“HEY!” Tommy's eyes bulge out of his sockets, angry at his brother's self-deprecating words. Joel bends his waist forward, puts his elbows on the island in front of him and lets his head sink in again.

“Ok.” Tommy breathes deeply to ground himself, his hands in a position of a prayer in front of his mouth, “Ok, we could both use a drink.” he realizes, as he moves to open the cupboard to grab two tumblers and the whiskey from the shelf with the drinks. “..or five.”

The two brothers drink their first round in silence, both calming their nerves down. Tommy refills their glasses without asking; he knows this is going to be a long night.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” Tommy begins, pushing Joel’s drink back towards him. Joel wringles his brows in confusion, “What are you talking about? You’re always there for me.”

“No, I haven’t, not really.” Tommy admits, “I let Maria take over when all this happened and I’m sorry.”

“There was nothing you could do, Tommy, don’t sweat it.”

“Let me say this, please.” Tommy raises his hand, his palm facing his brother. “I was just- fuck, we all knew how much you loved her, how much you loved each other, so when it all went down, I just didn’t know how to deal with it. What to say to you, how to comfort you. I didn't know how to deal with you.”

“You blamed me.” Joel says matter-of-factly.

“No-”, Tommy weakly refuses but Joel shakes his head dismissively, interrupting him. “It’s ok, Tommy, you should.”

Tommy looks embarrassed, his cheeks slightly pinkish, not only from the whiskey. “It’s just that I- I couldn’t reconcile the image of the man you were with her, with.. you know..”, he stutters.

“..the image of a cheater. Say it.” Joel adds.

Tommy shakes his head, like he still can't believe what's happened. “Besides, while she was staying with us those first few weeks I saw how devastated she was, man- she was a shell of a woman, so I was confused, I didn’t know how-”

“Tommy. Tommy, it’s fine.” Joel feels his skin crawl visualizing you like that in his head, cutting his brother off once again; he deserves every ounce of mistrust and he knows it.

“No, it’s not.” Tommy insists. “Yes, you fucked up. Brother, you really did. You did a number on her-”, Joel’s body tenses instantly at his brother’s words, his jaw clenching as his eyes darken, moving down to his hands, his grip on the tumbler tightening, his knuckles turning white and Tommy stops abruptly, “shit, sorry, I didn’t mean-”, his face twitches with regret.

“It’s the truth. That’s exactly what I did.” Joel’s gaze seems detached as if he's somewhere else right now.

“What I meant to say, is that I should have been there for you in spite of what has happened. I can see you're suffering, it's taking its toll on you, it has been for some time now; tell me what I can do. How can I help you?” Tommy seems almost desperate, like he’s the one in need of redemption.

Your text flashes through his mind, can you turn back time?, making him smile bitterly.

“Can you turn back time?” Joel's repeating your question and as the words leave his mouth he can feel your presence next to him. That's the most he felt of you for the last three years. He's almost blissful.

“You know I can't.” Tommy sighs. Joel laughs earnestly, the irony of the moment too good not to appreciate.

“Joel, brother, please, just talk to me. Help me understand. You act like you’re the one who’s been cheated on. So, what happened? Why did you do it?” Tommy is pleading with him to give him anything.

Silence fills the room for much longer than either of them would like. Joel feels torn between telling his brother everything or keeping his mouth shut. He wants to tell him, he hasn’t told a soul, but he’s not sure he can get the words out. He’s not sure he can bear to hear the words coming out of his mouth. He’s not sure he can substantiate it, make it real. Because that’s how it feels. He talks about it and it becomes real.

But maybe this is the right thing to do. That’s what needs to be done. He needs to talk about it. He needs to tell the truth and admit the pain he’s caused. Make it real for you, too. Perhaps it is time for him to give you what is rightfully yours. Acknowledgment.

Joel’s made up his mind. He’s gonna talk to Tommy. He lifts his glass to down his drink for some liquid courage, freezing his hand in mid-air as the next words fall from his brother’s mouth. “First of all, who was it?”

“What?” Joel's eyes search Tommy’s through his glass for an explanation.

“Who did you do?”, Tommy clarifies.

Joel feels like he’s been struck by lightning. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Who did you fuck, Joel?”, Tommy begins to feel confused, are they not on the same page here?

“You don’t know?”, Joel can barely speak now, his voice low in shock.

“No one does, not even Maria; she never told anyone.”

You told nobody? Not even your best friend? Why on earth would you do that? Did you feel ashamed? Was it just too much to talk about?

But his brain takes pity on him, helping him for once to understand. He’s connecting the dots while your voice fills the corners of his mind through his memories. His head is swarming with images of you standing in that walk-in closet, remembering what you said the last time he saw you. You’re the one I married, not her. I expected better from you, Joel, not her.

You were right.

It didn’t matter who it was. That is why. He was the one making the choice. He was the one breaking his promises, breaking your trust, breaking your heart; breaking you. He was the one who should have known better. He was the one who should have been honest. Easy in theory, hard in practice.

He feels a fresh wave of pain scattering through his body. He welcomes it. Damn, he’s craving it. He’s glad you chose to withhold the identity of the woman. Not because somehow it’s making it easier for him to defend himself, on the contrary.

There’s no one else to blame. Nobody. Just him. All of the anger, the resentment, the disappointment, all of them on him. He embraces them all. Everything. He will take it all, swallow it down and let it rot inside of him.

Joel tells Tommy everything. Everything, but her name.

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