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#this is not reblogable because it’s a very stupid thing to realize
guccigarantine · 1 year
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why did i just make the connection in the year of our lord 2022 that every single season of friends at the table is named after the location it’s set in
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elllisaaa · 6 months
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no nut november - hwang hyunjin (1st to lose)
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-> pairing : hyunjin x fem!reader
-> words count : 2,6k
-> genre : smut, etablished relation
-> warnings : slight pussydrunk!hyunjin, sending nudes, teasing, dirty talk, praising, unprotected sex, marking, oral (f. receiving), fingering, creampie, use of 'good girl', nipple play, begging + the way i'm depicting hyunjin does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction.
-> 18+ content bellow, minors dni
-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language
-> masterlist | skz masterlist | no nut november
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When all the members agreed to this stupid bet, Hyunjin was determined not to lose, or at least, not to lose before Jisung. Everyone knew both of them would be the first to be out, it was obvious, but he had his pride. He just wanted to not be the first to lose. Because he had a bit of consciousness left ; his sex drive was too high to not do anything for a whole month, but one week, maybe he could handle it. 
He didn’t text you right away, thinking about all the things he had to do and that he would see you tonight ; he’ll tell you at this moment. But when he got home, you were not here, just a note saying you were spending the night at your best friend's because she wasn’t feeling well. Hyunjin didn’t think much of it, going on about his day casually texting with you. He didn’t recall the bet once because they had all agreed not to talk about it in order not to disturb them while they were working. 
It’s only when, three days after the agreement was made, you sent him a picture of you, wearing only your underwear, that he realized he totally forgot to tell you. He came very late last night and just wanted to sleep. And you left very early in the morning, which didn’t give him a chance to address a word to you. 
Hyunjin gulped loudly, closing his eyes and trying to think about all the most disgusting things he knew, just to stop the memories of you and your sweet voice moaning his name coming back into his mind. But it was too late. He had a bonner, and all he wanted was to came back home and fuck you. 
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He resumed practicing his choreo, but all he was thinking about was you. Your face when he gave you what you wanted, your moans when he got down on you, your mouth wrapped around his cock, your tight little cunt that he was just wishing to be buried into right now. And all of that didn’t help him to calm down, nor the fact that you were actually still wearing only your underwear when he stepped into your apartment. He knew you were more comfortable like that when you were alone but you always put something back on before he got home - or you would end up fucking like bunnies everytime. But he came back earlier and the sight in front of his eyes was very, very tempting. 
“- Baby… Why are you doing this to me ?”
You turned around with a grin on your face, letting the meal you were cooking warm up behind you, still not aware of how difficult you were making it for him to keep his calm. 
“- Doing what ? Thought you liked it…”
You stopped the gas under your pot before stepping closer to him, noticing how tense his jaw was. 
“- Are you alright Jinnie ?
- Yeah, yeah, don’t worry. You’re just… I can’t resist.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle at his compliment. You always liked men being vocal about how much you were driving them crazy, and Hyunjin just reinforced that by telling you everything that crossed his mind at every moment. 
“- Why would you have to resist though ? I’m here to please you.”
You smiled once again, finally reaching him and pecking his lips, making him gasp and going stiff. 
“- I… Me and the boys made a bet.”
You frowned and tilted your head to the side, wondering which dumb shit it was this time, and if it was coming from your boyfriend or Jisung. 
“- And what is it ?
- No nut november.”
The laugh that escaped your lips was so loud that Hyunjin was torn between finding your smile beautiful and feeling vexed that you thought he was so bad at controlling himself. The pout on his face told you exactly that when you were finally able to look at him again. You put your hands on his cheeks, still smiling from ear to ear. 
“- And you agreed ?
- Yeah, why ?
- Baby… We both know that you won’t last a week in this. You’re so hard right now, and I haven’t done anything yet.”
Hyunjikn groaned, closing his eyes to stop himself from looking at your thighs, and your lips, and your whole body. Still, you were absolutely right. He knew he wouldn’t last long, but he thought he was stronger than that. While he was thinking, you started to run your fingers through his hair, kissing his cheeks but never his lips. 
“- So ? Am I still “so in for it” or not ?”
He thought about it for a moment. Yes, he would never hear the end of it if he lost on the third day, and Jisung’s ego will get even bigger. But what was the point ? He didn’t want not to touch you for a month when you were literally his stress reliever. 
Without saying a word nor answering to you, he put his hands on your hips and his lips on yours, making you smile into your passionate kiss. He gave up so much more easily than you thought, but you weren’t going to complain. Hyunjin broke the kiss just to let his eyes wander all over your half-naked body. 
“- Like what you see ?”
He licked his lips, his hands sliding from your hips to your ass with a grin on his face. And even if you should be used to it, the fact that he was effortlessly so hot still made a shiver run down your spine.
“- So much… Makes me want to fuck you right now.”
Your own hands slipped under the hem of his shirt, your fingers running across his warm skin. And it was driving him crazy. It’s been three days since he had felt your touch for the last time, and he didn’t want to contain himself any more. It’s already been too long for him. 
Hyunjin pushed your hips into his, letting you feel his hard cock under his clothes, and kissed you once again. You could feel his heated skin through his still clothed body. And that was driving you insane. You could make fun of Hyunjin all you wanted, but you knew you were not any better. You couldn’t have resisted him more than he did. Your sex drive was as high as his, but you were grateful he gave in first - wouldn’t have been good for your image. 
Soon enough, you felt Hyunjin’s tongue licking your lips, and you opened your mouth with a little whimper, kissing him hungrily while your hands were gripping his shirt, forcing him to break the kiss to take it off. You stepped back and settled on top of the kitchen’s counter, and then pulled Hyunjin between your legs, your face inches away from his. 
“- Then fuck me Jinnie… I want you so bad…”
And that did it for him. Hyunjin let his head fall into your neck, sucking on it, licking it, biting it, and making you moan and tug his hair in your fingers. His own hand already found the clip of your bra and took it off. His lips traced a trail from your neck to your nipples that he quickly took in his mouth, getting you to whine his name and grip tightly at his roots. 
“- I missed feeling your skin…”
You smiled at how innocent this comment was even though Hyunjin was playing with your breast, and that his lips were making their way to your soaked panties. Your boyfriend was always eager to eat you out. Of course he loved it when you sucked him off, but he could spend hours between your legs without getting tired of your taste, or the noise you were making every time he did. And well, you couldn’t protest when he was this good with his mouth. 
Hyunjin kept eye contact with you while he slowly took off your panties. He threw them away somewhere in the room, kissing your inner thighs and making his way to your cunt. You sighed, relaxing completely under his touch, spreading your legs wide and tugging at his hair. When he finally put his mouth on your clit, you moaned and closed your eyes shut, the familiar rush of pleasure coursing through your veins. 
“- God… I wouldn’t have survived one month without your mouth on me…”
Hyunjin chuckled against you, sending vibrations that made you shiver. He stuck his tongue out, practically making out with your clit as you were clenching around nothing, whining and grinding against his face.
“- You really love tasting me baby, don’t you… ?”
You let out a shaky breath when your boyfriend pressed a finger against your entrance, teasing you a bit before pushing it between your folds and making you moan loudly. He didn’t stop licking you all this time, a mix of his saliva and your juices dripping down from your cunt to the counter beneath you. 
“- Yeah… Pussy drunk are you ? Of course you are… Look at you baby, face buried into me like you didn’t eat me out just three days ago…”
As much as you liked teasing him, it was getting difficult to even think of a single thing, and your words were quickly replaced by never ending and louder moans each time his now two fingers pressed against your sweet spot. You just stopped talking for a while, the heat in your body starting to get unbearable. 
“- Jinnie… P-Please… A little more… Just n-need… More…”
Hyunjin almost whined at you begging for him, for his tongue and fingers to give you what you were waiting for. Your hands were gripping his hair tight, and he could have come untouched just from the feeling and the view of your blissed out face. But he wanted to be in you so bad, he just pressed his tongue harder on your clit, overstimulating you a bit while you were coming just for him. 
He let you come back from your orgasm while he was wiping off your juices that dripped on his chin. Hyunjin smiled at you when you opened your eyes, looking so fucked out he just wanted to burry himself deep in you. 
“- Wouldn’t survive a month without eating you out…”
You heard his mumbled words and it made you laugh : you two were definitely not made for this type of challenge, but it didn’t even cross your mind as you kissed Hyunjin and your hands were sliding his pants down his thighs, his boxer following quickly. 
“- Want you in me…”
You were asking for it so sweetly, how could he say no to you ? (and yes, he had convinced himself that he caved in only because you were looking really gorgeous, not because he couldn’t hold back anymore.) Hyunjin guided his cock to your cunt, letting only the tip slide into you. 
“- How much do you want it love ? Tell me… ”
He liked to tease you just before entering you, just before he couldn’t tease anymore because he was always too far gone in your warm, tight, wet cunt. He was crazy over you, over this feeling. But at the same time, he couldn’t resist the urge to hear you beg for him, for his cock one more time. 
“- P-Please… 
- Please what ?
- Want your dick in me… Want you to be rough…
- That’s my good girl…"
You almost cried at the feeling of him entering you fully, making you feel on the verge of tears from the overwhelming feeling of his warm body against yours. Hyunjin’s lips were only inches from yours and you leaned in to kiss him hungrily while he was putting his hands on your waist and started to move back and forth. Both your moans were muffled by your messy kisses, feeling saliva drip from your mouth to your chin, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when his dick in you felt like heaven. 
“- Shit… You’re so tight love… 
- Just for you… For your big cock…
- Yeah ? Big enough for your little wet cunt ?
- Fuck ! Yes… Don’t stop… C-Close…”
As your second orgasm was approaching, you started to lose your words, only capable of letting out some words here and there, and rutting your hips against Hyunjin. You nuzzled your face into his neck, muffling your moans against the sensitive skin, making your boyfriend shiver, loving to be so close to him, even though his pace was all but romantic. 
“- Gonna cum love ?
- Y-Yeah… Keep going p-please…”
Hyunjin sped up the rhythm of his hips, feeling you getting tighter with each thrusts, then getting sloppier and messier, telling you he was also almost there too. You also knew he liked to be praised when he was about to come. So you did just that.
“- You’re making me feel so good baby, so full… Love it when you lose control like this, just for me… You’re going to make me come with your big dick…”
Your boyfriend moaned against your lips, his forehead pressed against yours and his fingers digging into the skin of your hips so deep you hesitated between whining in pleasure or in pain. 
“- Ah- So good for me Hyunjin… Want you to fill me up… Come on, give it to me…”
“- Baby… Fuck !”
And that did it for Hyunjin. It only took him a couple more thrusts before he reached his high, cumming hard inside of you. And the feeling of his hot seed spilling in your cunt pushed you over the edge too, crying out in pleasure, joining the fucked out songs your boyfriend was letting out as he continued moving until it all started to feel too much. 
Both of you needed a moment to come back to reality, looking each other in the eyes and smiling softly before sharing a sweet kiss. You sighed, leaning totally against Hyunjin’s firm body while he stocked your back softly. You didn’t know what was to gain if he won the bet, but judging by your actual state, you didn’t care much, rather not at all. 
“- Go to the shower baby, I’ll warm up our meal and we could watch the drama we started last time. How’s that sound ?
- Perfect. I love you so much…”
You giggled before kissing him and muttering an “I love you too” against his lips. You pushed him away from you, just so you could get down off of the counter and put back your underwear, preventing his cum from spilling out of you and dripping down your thighs. Hyunjin stared at you, frowning and you understood something was bothering him.
“- What ?
- Sure you don’t need help to clean up ?
- Yes, I’m sure. I can do that myself, and I know you need your shower after work.”
Hyunjin took you in by your waist to kiss you before gathering his spare clothes on the floor and getting to the bathroom. Once there, he took his phone out of his pants, sending a message in the group chat.
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Hyunjin shutted his phone off for the night, wanting to enjoy this moment with his sweet girlfriend that he could have whenever he wanted while the other would have to contain themselves. And for him, that was the real victory.
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-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.
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taglist - @bangchans-angel @its-hannjisung @3rachasninja @boi-bi-ahaha @supergoopjudgepyschic @jaiuneamesolitaiire @starsandrqindrops @anonymousreader55 @iwannabangchan69 @b3tOxic @fawnpeaks @lxrii @channiesgoodgirl @imsotiredandalsonineteen @bbchangbinnie24 @abbystaysstuff @chrishak @cscsi @minskzy @hyunlixs-wife0309 @stayconnecteed @miserya99 (if your pseudo is crossed out, it's because I can't tag you and you'll have to change your settings)
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sanguineterrain · 17 days
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im begging you to write a part 2 of vigilante reader because the way you write??? the dynamic between reader and jason??? the sex tension???are chef kiss!!!
thanks very much! part 2 and I couldn't put off the reveal bc I'm just too impatient lol 🫶 but I might write another part post-reveal? maybe? cuz I'm growing attached to these two <3
jason todd x gn!vigilante!reader (nocturne). tw explosions, smoke inhalation, reader passes out, canon typical violence, identity reveal, asshole bruce. jason is in love? jason is in love.
read pt 1 here! | all fics are reblogged to @sanguinelibrary
****
"Go home."
"Bruce, I—"
Bruce looks at you, eyes sharp with fury and... something else. Something older.
The others know how to talk back. You still haven't gained the courage to sass The Batman.
"Go. Home. If you need an escort, I can call Superman."
You take a step back at his coldness.
"Bruce, I know I messed up, letting Hood escape but—"
"Yes, you did. You deliberately disobeyed an order. I told everybody to stand down. He could've killed you."
But he didn't, you don't say. He could've, but he chose not to.
He'd felt safe.
"I had it under control, honestly. He wasn't—it wasn't like the other encounters you've had with him. He wouldn't have hurt me."
That is the wrong thing to say. You realize that after the words leave your mouth and the muscles in Bruce's jaw jump.
"You can't be this naive. I know I wouldn't have chosen someone who's this naive," he says savagely. "You know Hood can't be trusted, and you're defending him to me. We've seen time and again he's rogue. He doesn't make sense and that's exactly why he's dangerous."
"But if you would just listen—"
"Enough," he snaps. "Enough. Go home. I'm suspending you for three weeks."
"Three w—I'm not even injured!" you cry.
"No, but you need the time. You're not thinking clearly. Go. I don't want to see you until next month."
You press your lips together before you say something truly foul. Something about Batman's habit of pushing people away. Something about dead Robins.
You don't let the tears fall until you leave the Cave. This is all Hood's fault. You know it would've been a different conversation if you'd managed to successfully capture him.
You'll take down the Red Hood if it's the last thing you do.
****
It takes you approximately two days to break your suspension.
In your defense, you meant to follow Bruce's orders. You would've stayed put and helped Barbara with research instead.
But not at the expense of civilian lives.
"All units to Canal and Riverview, 10-80. Standby. Do not enter the factory until given clearance from the Bomb Squad."
You turn off the police scanner and stuff it in your drawer. In Gotham, explosions usually come in multiples. If there's one, there's bound to be another. The police are generally inept when it comes to evacuating civilians. You know one of the other Bats are on their way, but you're the closest to the docks.
You glance at your suit. No. If you go as Nocturne, Batman might suspend you indefinitely.
You grab your gas mask and put on a black hoodie and a domino mask. You'll just have to make do.
The marina is blanketed in thick smoke. It makes your eyes water. But in the commotion it causes, you're able to slip past the barriers and help workers out of the factory. It's difficult because without the suit, people don't give you the same trust and respect. But you're anonymous, and that's all that matters.
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
You ignore the voice and keep hauling two elderly workers towards the exit. They're barely outside before you turn around, determined to clear every level of the factory.
You're yanked backward by a hand on your hoodie. You nearly lose your footing, but the hand is firm, dragging you towards the pier.
You're spun around and put face to face with a red helmet.
Oh, of all the fucking—
"Let go of me!" you shout, smacking his arm. Hood's grip tightens.
"I will as soon as you stop doing stupid shit. What were you thinking, coming here?"
You pause. Whoops. This isn't how a plain civilian would react to being apprehended by the Red Hood.
And that's definitely not how the Red Hood would react to getting swatted by a random civilian. Shit.
"I was, um, I was thinking I could help," you say haltingly. "P-please don't hurt me, Mr. Hood, I was—"
Hood sighs and lets you go, then tucks his gun into his holster.
"Cut the shit. I know you're Nocturne. I also know that you need some acting lessons because what the hell was that? Mr. Hood?"
A chill washes over you. "I don't know what you mean. Nocturne?"
Hood shakes his head. "I don't have time for this. The building's gonna collapse any second. Stay. Put."
He goes back toward the smoking entrance. Your eye twitches as you follow him.
"Last time I checked, you don't have that kind of authority, Hood."
He turns around and looms over you. "Don't I?"
Anyone else would back down. You might've a week ago. You should, after the tongue lashing Bruce gave you.
But there's no soot on Hood's helmet or vest. He doesn't smell sweet like gasoline or pungent like motor oil.
He was in the factory to help.
Something shifts. Batman is wrong. Batman is more wrong than he's ever been.
Because Hood's not the enemy here. Not anymore. Maybe not ever.
You push past Hood. "It'll be faster if we work together."
"Oh, absolutely not. You're not even in your suit."
"As per your request," you say, flashing a plastic smile. "You're welcome."
"Don't get cute with me, you—hey!"
You dart past him and go straight into the factory. Hood shouts your name, which makes you pause, just for a moment.
But revealed identity or not, you need to clear the building. So you pull on your mask and run faster.
Your worst fear is confirmed when you check the upper level: someone was missed in the evacuation. It's a worker, and she's unconscious.
You don't think about how explosions come in pairs in Gotham. Don't think about how long it'll take to get to the exit.
You take off your mask and slide it onto her face. The smoke burns your throat immediately, but you ignore it and lift her in a fireman carry, just as you were taught all those years ago by Robin. He's the one who taught you how to save people without relying on brute strength or height.
You hope he's alright, wherever he is. You hope he's not too upset seeing you rush into a burning building.
That's your last thought when you see the entrance. Your face is covered in sweat and grime. The heat from the fires is exhausting. You can feel your eyes beginning to close.
"There's something seriously wrong with you," a decoded voice says in your ear, and then the woman's weight is lifted from your shoulders.
Hood grabs your hand, the woman over his opposite shoulder, and you make it out just as the second explosion goes off. It knocks you forward.
Hood puts the woman down just in time to catch you. His arm is around your waist, the other hand cradling your head. His gloved thumb touches your mouth, and you feel his dawning realization as he finally sees your mask on the woman.
"Don't tell Ba'man," you slur.
"Jesus fuck—" Hood starts to drag you. You feel lightheaded. He's moving, and you wish he'd stop. "You don't take off your mask. You never take off your mask. We taught you that!"
"She was unconscious, J'y..."
Arms tighten around you. Everything goes dark.
****
You wake up to the smell of scrambling eggs.
For a moment, you just bask in the smell. It smells like Alfred's breakfast scramble. Bacon. Butter. Golden potatoes.
Then you wake up further and realize that you're not in the Manor. You're in your apartment.
So who's cooking?
You get up quietly, slipping out of your room. You pause in front of the full-length mirror.
Honestly, you've looked worse. Your hair needs a wash, and you're in the same clothes you went into the building with, which are now a little charred. But your face is clean of soot, and your throat hurts only a little.
The kitchen sink runs. You slowly creep out into the living room, keeping your breathing even and silent.
The mess of black hair, you recognize. Sort of. You might've mistaken him for Bruce if you didn't know that Bruce has a lifetime ban from kitchens all over the world.
He's too tall to be Dick. Too skilled in the kitchen to be Bruce. Too nice to be Bruce, too—you can't imagine Bruce Wayne making you eggs. Especially when you disobeyed his orders. Again.
The red helmet on the kitchen stool turns your blood to ice.
You grab the letter opener from a drawer and wait a few seconds to see if Hood's heard you. Then you throw the letter opener with near perfect aim at his exposed shoulder.
He catches it without turning.
Your heart skips a beat. Every time you think you might get the drop on him, Hood reminds you just how competent he really is.
A mix of fear, aggravation, and something you don't want to examine too closely swirls in your gut.
"Impressive," he says. "Dami been training you? Mama Al-Ghul spent a lot of time on his knife lessons."
"Why are you in my apartment?"
Hood sets the letter opener down on the counter and turns off the stove. Then he serves the breakfast scramble on two plates, then sprinkles chives over them.
This is the weirdest kidnapping ever.
He sighs, back still facing you.
"You can't tell anyone it's me," he says.
"You make a lot of demands for a guy who just used the last of my eggs."
Hood laughs. It sounds wet. It sounds like grief.
"God, I've missed ya, honeylove."
Your heart pounds. You try to find another weapon, anything. Hood doesn't give you the chance.
He turns around.
The first thing you see is the stark white streak of hair and the curls you once loved. The curls that were near unrecognizable in the casket.
You were right: Batman was wrong.
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taintedcigs · 1 month
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— if you're feeling lucky
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pairing: fwb!eddie munson x f!reader
summary: friends with benefit never ends well... or does it? based on this prompt by @dumplingsjinson (wc: 1.2k+)
warnings: just absolute fluff, maybe tiny angst, and a kiss, and thats it, oh and my shitty writing.
author's note: ignore the corny summary im lazy. the title has no meaning i just luv that song omfg. not proofread. based on this lovely request i got from angel @voyeurmunson i hope i did it justice i am so very rusty!!!! and the ending is rushed i AM SORRY
pleaseeee reblog to support me. ty!! mwah.
Y​​ou knew this would eventually happen. You agreed to this stupid "arrangement" knowing that this would be the outcome.
Just because you couldn't keep your feelings in check. Just because the two of you kissed hazily one night, minds filled with each other and the cheap weed Eddie provided. Like a knot that had been waiting to be undone, unraveling, so quickly, fading just as much—if not more quicker.
You should've seen it coming.
From the way your last rendezvous ended, when you accidentally kissed him goodbye on his way home. It was a simple, honest mistake.
Or was it?
The two of you had a set of rules; fucking with no feelings attached, make sure none of it got in the way of your friendship. It was supposed to be simple.
But that goodbye kiss was intimate, more than just fucking, and much more than your stupid friendship.
His cheeks burned a salmon pink, your plushy lips tainting his with something he had never experienced before; pure affection. Making him splutter, almost tripping on his way out of your house.
You barely registered what you did when he finally left, too enamored to even notice. Your son-of-a-bitch subconscious playing its tricks on you, feelings acting out before your logic can even kick in.
Stress ate away at you, but you assumed he wouldn't make a big deal of it. That this wouldn't ruin anything. He would forget this by Monday.
By the time he ignores your fifth call, and even goes as far as to avoid you in town, you start to blame your poor assumption skills. Try to ignore the insecure feelings that churn in your stomach.
Anger replaces those thoughts in an instant, because how could he just fucking end things without even talking to you?
Did he not even like you as a friend anymore?
Did one kiss really disgust him this much?
A lump sits in your throat at the unanswered questions, anxiety seeping through your skin, eating away at your organs, consuming you.
And after hours of endless anxious thoughts rummaging through your mind—and a long talk with your girlfriends where they urged you to talk to him, you end up at his door, arms crossed against your chest, wearing a scowl.
He opens the door with a bewildered gaze, your name falling softly from his lips, like a prayer, devoid of the lewdness it held than the last time you saw him. Much more affectionate, shattering your heart in every way possible.
"What is your problem?" You don't mean to go all out on him, especially when looks this good, bittersweet gaze meeting yours, tousled curly hair framing his face just in the way that has your heart skipping a beat.
"W—what?" He splutters.
You brush past him in a fury, "do you hate me now or something?" Your anger doesn't hold the same weight anymore, tone now laced with insecurity, a sadness that finds its way into your skin.
You don't let him talk, "do you realize how fucking childish this is? Ignoring my calls? Avoiding me?" He watches the way your brows quirk when you explain yourself, teeth pulling on your bottom lip worry, he wants to kiss it, your thoughts, worries away.
"That's not—"
"You could've just talked to me if—if you had any problem, ignoring me is fucked up."
Plushy lips open to speak, to explain himself, but you don't let him, fluttering your thick lashes at him, rambling on and getting more and more upset each time you spoke, tugging at his heartstrings, making him want to slap himself for being the source of your worries.
"We could've just talked this out, you know? W—we could've set up clearer boundaries and uh—" You were growing more and more frustrated, words getting mashed together with how emotional you were being.
"Will you let me—"
Again, you didn't let him speak, wanting to get it all out, knowing that this might've been the last time you spoke to him. Ever.
Your lip wobbled at the thought. "I—I just... 'm sorry, I broke the rules, okay? I—I swear it won't happen again, I don't want our friendship to be—"
"I can't be friends with you anymore!" He breathed, tone loud enough to startle you, the weight of his words taking a while to sink in.
You gulped, physically, mind too hazy to register what he said, that horrible feeling caging your chest, eating up the words that are unable to leave your lips. "Oh... uh—uhm, o—okay." You nervously nip at your nails, not knowing what to do.
"I can't do this anymore, either." He adds, pointing toward the space between the two of you, and you're unable to meet his gaze, too scared. The tears begging to be let out.
"Why—" You take a deep breath before you continue, prying your gaze from his stupid wooden floors, and back into those swirly caramel hues, now big enough to hypnotize you. Softening you in seconds. "Why not?"
"Fuck..." He mumbles, this time he's the nervous one, cheeks flushed with the prettiest pink all over. Fingertips trace against your features, settling on your cheekbones, and you let him. "Because I'm starting to get greedy, sweetheart."
Hope gnaws at your insides, the way something flashes in his gaze has you healing all over, the hold both of you have over each other is strong enough to gravitate you, yet both of you are too dumb to see it, notice it.
Until now.
"I can't just have that and be okay with it... I want—fuck that, I need more," He grumbles, desperate, a silent plea. Your mouth grows dry, lashes fluttering heavily to process it, the world stops spinning on its axis at the implication of his words.
"I need you." You can't help the way your gaze turns mellow, melting into his touch, everything you craved, and more, right in front of you.
A little taste of heaven.
Rolling your eyes playfully, plushy lips stretching into the prettiest smile, followed by a giggle—a heavenly sound he decides he can't fucking live without. "You absolute idiot," you breathe with a shake of your head.
"You didn't think to tell me that? Were you just gonna pull away? Bury your feelings away?"
He mocks a thinking face, "I'd write a few songs about it too, probably." Grin growing wider the more he looks at you, barely registering what the fuck is going on. That you even showed up at his door. That you're even entertaining the idea of being with him.
He's at the palm of your hand, and you don't even know it.
"Idiot."
Pushing a palm over his chest dramatically, he tilts his head in a manner that has you wanting to squeeze his cheeks. "An idiot you like back?"
"Unfortunately." His lips downturn, an exaggerated pout that has your smile stretching.
"An idiot I like too much that it's embarrassing," you add with a scrunch of your nose, a gesture Eddie wants to worship, want to leave open-mouthed kisses all over your face.
"I'll take embarrassing," he whispers, licking his lips before leaning in. You stare at his parted lips a millisecond longer, before pulling him by his stupid Hellfire shirt, pressing your lips hotly against his. 
Eddie only freezes for a second before his instincts take over, a groan rumbling in the back of his throat, deepening the kiss, lips parting to taste you, fully, completely. 
Only breaking the kiss once you consumed him, lazy smirk sitting on his lips, “Told ya we couldn’t be friends anymore,” he teases, that pretty dimple sitting on his cheeks. “Shut up,” you reply with a giggle, interrupting him before he can observe your features and try to drown you in compliments, fisting his shirt once again and pressing your plushy lips against his.
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bluexiao · 1 year
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#”aren’t you tired of me?”
–when you ask them if they feel sick of you | a request | comfort | dipsy anon, here’s your request! I hope this will at least comfort you :)))
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SCARAMOUCHE
“Are you-” stupid, was what he was about to blurt out–what he wanted to, anyway, but with that look, you were giving him, it was quite impossible to let the words out without him biting his tongue. And so, with a sigh, he purses his lips and flicks you on the forehead.
“Ow!”
Another flick, but this time, you will be able to dodge it by placing a hand over your forehead.
“What was that for?!”
“For being an idiot.”
First of all, he finds it idiotic for you to think that someone like him would seriously think that way, especially after everything you two had been through. And second, he did not really expect you to say such things, and he is still coping with the shock while being “mean” to you.
He’s just annoyed—not at you, hell, he’ll probably first think that someone else had triggered you to say that stupid question, but in a few, he’ll slowly start to doubt himself; had he done something to make you think of him that way?
Yes, he’d think back over the few times he’d tease you out of affection—not that he would want to make it too obvious—and also the times he’d be utterly shit at you mostly because he’s too much of a brat to admit his feelings—which, in his defense, he only did in the first few weeks (or months) of meeting and soon dating you. Now that you’ve seen every single part of him and he the same to you, this anxiety of yours is quite surprising to him as well, and he also partly blames himself that above everyone, he prides himself that he knows you very well, but now in the end, he doubts that he does know everything about you.
Maybe he is the idiot this time.
“Tired?” He chuckles loudly. “Darling, did you really think I have such a short fuse that I would tire of you all for nothing? Or are you quick to forget about the years we’ve been through together, huh? Shall I help you remember?”
XIAO
Immediately has his forehead crunched and eyes boring into yours with a look of bewilderment, and it does take him a while to respond to you. Probably, he thought that you would follow up with “Just kidding!” with a little giggle, but when it seemed like you won’t, he bites with; “Is that really what you thought of yourself?”
Honestly, he would be quite offended, but not to the point that he’d selfishly bring it up to you upon realizing the way you felt inferior enough to prioritize someone like him over yourself.
Quite frankly, he thinks he should’ve been the one who should ask you if you’re tired of him.
Slightly annoyed, but more so with the crippling thought of; who or what made you this way? Is there someone who belittled you like this? Or maybe… did he?
The mere thought of him being the source of your worries and heartaches would be his downfall.
“Y/n, tell me,” he has his hand on your chin, urging you to face him and look into his eyes, and once you did, you could see the softness in them—a look that despite being on his face quite a number of times, you still could not fathom how on Teyvat you had managed to pull it off of him, “Is that really what you thought of yourself?”
Your lips purse and your gaze waver, only for his hand to travel to your cheek instead, urging you to make contact with his gaze again, “Love? Talk to me.”
You frown as you obliged his wishes, weak for the softness and genuine way his voice sounded. And then, you could feel his lips on yours. Just a small peck. But it was enough to ease your mind and muscles down.
“Our bond is too deep to sever,” he interlocks his fingers with yours, the other hand still caressing your cheek as he gazed straight into your eyes, pecking you on the lips one more time before continuing on, “I will never tire of you. Never.”
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nexusnyx · 1 year
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Me & Mr. Miller
au!Joel Miller x f!Reader [5.2k] summary: You and Joel had a deal to stay away from each other. The only obstacle is—neither one of you wants to do that. He might be the father of one of your closest friends and someone a few (many) years older than you, but... who cared. Not you. Not him. The deal wasn't going as planned. 📝 in this scenario the outbreak never happened! joel miller is doing just fine! If you enjoy it, reblogs and comments make all the difference. warnings⚠️ mature content—explicit depictions of sex, so minors dni. | 🏷️ age gap, misunderstanding, secret relationship, pining, strangers to lovers. Oral (f receiving), penetration (p in v), unprotected sex, dirty talking, love-making.
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masterlist |
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤTexas, Winter of 2023.
"Aw, shit, Joel. Fuck," Tess turned to him with her face twisted into a weird, panicked smile, and that's exactly when Joel realized he'd gone and fucked up again somehow. "You set me up. You set me up!"
"What?!"
"We could've at least told me you were inviting me to Sarah's birthday to be eaten fuckin' alive—is she still looking at me? Goddamn," the panic left for a second, replaced with a knowing smirk that he was unfortunately too familiar with. "She's got really nice eyes, I'll tell you that much. Were you gonna tell me I came here to make your girlfriend jealous? And really—is she still looking? 'Cause those are very intimidating eyes, and I'm gonna need to prepare myself."
There was no preparing to look into your eyes.
Joel would know.
He was done for the minute he laid eyes on you. The way you looked at him.
His hands started to sweat, and his mouth ran dry. He had to look. Gravity couldn't keep him from it.
"You know... a lot makes sense now," Tess starts.
"Don't."
Tess chuckles, hiding it in her drink. "Jeez—did you win her by blabbering her ears out? 'Cause I only got a single look into Miss Daggers for Eyes, but she looks—"
"Jesus Christ, I'm gonna regret having brought you, won't I?" Joel interrupts because he can't turn around as sharply as he'd like, and he can feel it already. Your eyes on him.
Tess stops hiding her laughter, "Oh, for sure. And only because I'm gonna make it very hard for you because you didn't tell me. Because you think that not talking about it makes things just... go away," she wiggles her fingers like dandelions in the sky, and Joel loves his best friend, but she can be a bit of a dick.
"I was gonna tell you," he sighs, fidgeting inside the stupid blazer; sipping his bourbon to ease the jitteriness inside his skin already proved to be a terrible fucking idea when in your presence. "I was—" and where are you? There are a lot of people behind Tess' shoulders and Joel could spot you in a football crowd.
"Jesus." Tess enunciates every letter. "Joel, find her so you can have your focus back."
"Just for the record, she isn't my girlfriend," he states.
Tess scoffs, and it says more than words could.
"She isn't," he presses.
"I believe you," says Tess. "But now I also know I wasn't crazy when I said you were happier last year after going to New York. You were. And Miss Daggers for Eyes—"
"She has a name."
"—is the reason. Does she? Does she have a name, Joel? Her parents are so kind for giving her one," Tess sasses. "I would know her name if you hadn't hidden her from me."
"I didn't hide anybody, there was nobody to hide. Also, can you shut up? You're louder than my thoughts."
The next laugh comes accompanied by a slap on the shoulder, and Tess walking away, but not before whispering in his ear. "Joel, buddy, I wholeheartedly believe you had the best intentions with bringing me here, but here's a tip you didn't ask for: Not one of you is as over whatever the hell happened as you may think. Talk to her."
Talk to her.
As if it was that simple.
As if there wasn't a deal.
Joel needs to find you, but first, he needs another drink.
He gulps down his glass and tries to smile as the guests pass him by. None of them seem to notice his imminent heart attack. None of them see through his carefully curated nonchalance, and he's happy about that.
There's already a person present who can see through him like glass, and he can barely deal with that one.
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤNYC, Spring of 2022.
You stood no chance against him.
The first time you saw him, Joel looked like a Wes Anderson visual.
Pink suit, grey strands unabashedly mixed in his soft, shiny black hair, and a shy smile to put any of the other men present to shame.
You were drawn like a moth to a flame.
He looked quite serious without that beautiful smile on—he looked like someone who would, in fact, never wear a pink suit, so you walked over to him and slid right next to his spot at the bar. "That's a bold outfit choice," were your first words. You smiled when his eyes landed on you, so wide and filled with surprise; warm, and stunning like a hot summer day. "But it suits you."
Joel looked stunned for a moment.
He blinked, sipped his bourbon glass and his eyes did a not-subtle-at-all up and down. Then, he put down his glass and the corner of his mouth twitched with the idea of a smile. "I lost a bet," he answered. You recognized the southern accent immediately. "Believe it or not."
"Oh, I believe you," you chuckled.
"It suits me, though?" he asked, opening his arms to the sides.
You nodded. "It does," your peripheral vision caught Bruna approaching behind the bar, and you smiled at her. "Hi, babe. Can I get a caipirinha, please?"
"Hey, girl," she smiled at you and used all of her subtlety to glance at Joel observing the exchange. "Sure thing. Vodka, sake, or cachaça?"
"Bruna, you know there's only one way to do a proper caipirinha," you rolled your eyes.
Bruna smiled. "Cachaça it is, then. Lemon, or something else?"
"Hm, how about an unexpected fruit? Surprise me."
"You got it. Anything else?" she asked.
"Nope, just remember to drink some water. You always work too hard," you winked at her.
Bruna left to make your drink with a blinding smile on her face, and you turned around to find Joel staring. He leaned on the counter with his arm supported on it, and as soon as you looked at him he asked, "Where d'you two know each other from?"
You pointed at the huge banners of NYU standing behind you. "She goes there — I go there."
"You go to NYU?"
"I do," you answered. "Getting my phD, actually," your smile always came out at that.
Joel's face never hides his surprise, but the smile was unexpected and very welcome. "Wow. Congratulations."
"Thank you. I imagine you're here because of the Spring exhibition?" you looked around at the gallery where everyone around looked as posh as you and he did, save for the curious New Yorker just enjoying their walk.
"I am. My daughter has a paper on display on the third floor," he replied.
"Politics and Law area?"
"That's her," he confirmed.
"I have a few close friends in the department," you smiled. "It was my first stop."
"Are you here showin' something too?"
"I'm actually here as one of 'somethings' to show?" No matter how long in the business, talking about being the art itself was always surreal. Especially in front of otherwordly handsome and charming men. Where was Bruna with your drink when you needed her? "My roommate's exhibition won the main exhibit, and we — dancers — are her tool. Her paint."
"You're part of the main exhibit?" He looked every bit impressed, and you nodded, feeling giddy at the prospect. "Double wow. Wait—shouldn't you be backstage, then?"
"Oh, no, gods, no. This whole thing stays here all afternoon, the final piece is only at sunrise—6pm, kinda?"
"Okay. And do I get to know your name before you run off to become art or d'you plan on dropping a crystal shoe so I can roam around later tryin' to find out?"
That had been the first time he made you laugh.
Truly laugh; not a few breaths out of your nose or an easy chuckle—Joel was silly, and he looked like modern-day Adonis in the stupid pink suit that he only wore because of a goddamn bet, and you had no chance.
"I'm Joel," he extended his hand.
That had been the doom of it all—no last names. Only smiles.
You shook his hand and offered your name back, only for him to repeat it out loud.
Test it on his tongue.
You were always doomed.
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤTexas, Winter of 2023.
Jealousy looked godly on you.
Joel hated himself for even thinking it, but he hated himself a lot this evening.
He had hurt you, for starters.
The only thing he set himself not to do, and he'd done it.
More than a year has passed since the fateful day you stepped, yet better—waltzed into his field of vision, and had he known a day of peace ever since?
The day he met you still played on his head like a broken record stuck inside a player:
Saying goodbye to Sarah in front of the gallery, turning around the corner, and seeing you with smoke blowing in front of your face, smiling at the sight of him. You in your green dress. The happiness written all over you, the obvious and earnest glee of seeing that Joel was still around.
Walking with you all around New York, feeling three times less intimidated by the imposing streets with you by his side. The smell of your apartment, the street food you two got on the way, the conversation that flowed as easy as a river stream.
Joel had the imprint of your shining personality burning behind his eyelids. The taste of strawberry from your caipirinha permanently inked on his tongue.
He stood no chance against your eyes—as much as she teased, Tess was right.
Miss Daggers for Eyes.
The way you looked at him at said, "You gotta stop looking at me like that, Joel. I'm starting to think you're not paying attention to what I'm saying," even though you already knew that to be true. Since the moment the strap of your blouse fell from your shoulders and you kept on talking, Joel was fish in a net.
He had the taste of your cunt and the smell of being buried between your thighs waking him up late at night for the next months to come.
The way you rode his face just as he asked you to—no mercy, no shame, only that, only your desires and the alcohol and the weed and the conversation and everything—everything, everything, everything.
Joel took it all out like a starved, greedy man, and you took it back, and neither of you slept until the sun was shining again in the sky.
The next couple of months were filled with texts since Texas demanded him back home and you were already home.
It could've been just friendship.
It was supposed to be simple.
So what if you two called each other and got off while on the phone like a couple of young adults who can't bear to be away from each other? So what if Joel texted you and had to endure Tess and other co-workers smiling at him and wondering, "what the hell's got Joel Damn Miller in a good mood, huh?"
So what if Joel learned more about you than he could admit to himself that he even wanted to know? Even if he was the one asking?
It didn't matter, because it wasn't simple.
Because when you called and said, "Your name is Joel Miller?" he realized why Sarah said he was such a 'distant concept'. No social media meant nobody to pry, but it also meant misunderstandings.
It also meant having to answer you with apprehension, because your tone had never been that off. "It is. Why are you sayin' it like I'm on a list or somethin'?"
"Joel." His stomach fell at his name alone. "You're Sarah's dad. Fuck. Of course you are—"
"Wait, you know Sarah?"
"Yes, I know Sarah. I'm friends with Sarah, or I was before—oh god, she's gonna kill me. She is, isn't she?"
He had assisted you through your panic even though he felt the same.
He walked outside his office, talked you through your next breaths, and guaranteed you there was no reason to panic. "That's it, it's ok, hun'—," he stopped, cursed mentally, and rectified his mistake with his name. You were not his hun, and Joel had been lost on cloud nine without realizing you could've never been. "Just breathe. She doesn't know. She won't know. You two are fine."
That had been it, or so he thought.
Joel stared a lot at the last message he received from you. Thought about sending something else. Continuing the conversation.
Instead, he let the silence make the dust settle.
It had been a haze.
A dream, or a glitch in the matrix—it wouldn't be happening again, and no matter how much he looked at the text you sent weeks prior — i really like talking to you, Joel — nothing would change.
Except it did.
Except — the silence amounted to nothing.
One look at you across the street and Joel was dragged back in.
That Summer when Sarah invited him back, Joel had almost said no, but he remained as able to deny her anything as when she was a kid. The weekend went perfectly, and Joel did his best to not think of you as he was there, but all it took was a few words on a screen:
ㅤㅤㅤㅤSaw Sarah's IG stories. You loaok so good when you smile , JoelㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤLove how the sweater looks on yoyu
Drunk baby. Honey.
The second time there was no deal on the table yet, but there was you.
Joel appeared at your apartment door at twenty past two in the morning and only left a couple of hours before his plane left.
You two pretended your apartment was a bubble.
It worked.
Joel had missed you. It sounded silly when he thought it early in the morning before leaving for work—when everyday routine served as bitter medicine it was enough to convince himself it was all just wishful thinking.
With you in the same room as him, lying was harder.
There was no 'wishful' part on how well you two worked.
There was a divine inspiration in the way you made him feel like something new.
Joel felt warm, wanted, devilishly handsome under your gaze. Your careful touch.
"You're so fucking handsome," you repeated to him.
He never thought about his looks, but he couldn't stop himself from enjoying the truth in your words. How much you believed them. "Glad you think so."
"Don't snicker at me like that, Mr. Joel—"
"Snicker? I ain't snickerin', I'm laughin'. You keep tracing my wrinkles like that and I'm gonna get a complex, hun."
"The drama. You're so lame! Oh my god."
"And yet, you're laughing. You know, that's the same shit my daughter says. I'm startin' to think it's true."
"It is. You're silly. But it's okay —" the tip of your fingers tracing his features felt like the first drops of rain hitting the skin. Joel shivered under your touch more times than he cared to count, and he'd only been present for it a couple of times. He'd hate to think of how much you could ruin him with enough time given. How much no other touch would suffice anymore. " — 'cause it's all part of your charm..."
Who would've thought Joel still had it?
Charm.
No amount of charm made up for the situation, though, and before you left, you asked the inevitable question. "No one can know, right?"
"No." He knew what was at stake—your friendship with his most important person. Maybe more. "It was just our last time."
"Right. We're not doing this again."
"We can stay away from each other. I like it like this," he said, pressing his face in your beard-burnt neck, inhaling your sigh and perfume. "But I know..." she can't know.
No—no one can know.
He nuzzled into you, and you nuzzled back. Dug your fingers in the fabric of his shirt. "We can still... talk, can't we?" you asked.
Joel's chest clutched and he held you a little tighter. None of you were at fault for the circumstances, so you both deserved some more stolen time. "We'll talk." He kissed under your ear. "We'll stay away from each other. Talk. Friends can talk. We just—we don't do this anymore. And, no one can know it happened."
"Okay." You sounded muffled against his chest, and Joel thought about how he'd miss touching your hair like this. "I'll just — take a while. To be able to look at you and not —" you stopped abruptly, and pulled away to look up at him and show him not what.
Not look at him with eyes that demanded a kiss.
Without pulling him in by the fire in your eyes.
That had been then — July gave him you again. You for the last time.
The next time Joel saw you after that had been a few weeks ago. Sarah invited you to a party during the holidays, and third time was the charm.
You two talked like good, old friends.
The longing in his chest was ridiculous, the whole entire time.
Now—
jealousy looks good on you.
Sarah's birthday was big enough for Joel to have his eyes on you without you even realizing it. From his bedroom porch, Joel saw you walking by the pool between the guests with that set to your jaw. Another friend of Sarah's stopped you and started a conversation, but the look refused to leave your face.
The problem was—there was nothing Joel could do.
If he pulled you aside to clarify that Tess was only a friend, a work friend who Sarah has called 'Aunty Tess' since she was fourteen, he would be wrong.
Rubbing salt on the wound.
What did it matter what Tess was?
You two had a deal.
Gods, Joel was getting too old for this—too old to watch things from a distance, to see the sadness on the pout of your lips and crave to run and kiss it away, to realize when the lights of the party hit your face in the right angles that your eyes are shining and fuck—
He gets back downstairs and leaves the glass somewhere along the way.
No more bourbon for him.
Joel hears his name called a few times. Allows himself to be distracted by conversation here and there. He's good at lying to himself—he's done it often enough by now. Joel keeps himself trimmed from the deep wants and needs that grow like weeds through his bones, even if he isn't sure why.
Something so rich like you — of course it wasn't for him.
What would he do?
You're Sarah's dad. Fuck.
Sarah's father — he clapped the louder, smiled the brighter, and when the candles were blown and she handed him the first piece of cake, Joel wondered if he should feel guilty for going after someone who's close with daughter of all people.
All he could feel was sadness as he saw you disappearing in the crowd after talking to Sarah in hushed tones inside a hug.
Joel needed to find Tess.
He should leave — his house would be the roof for a lot of people tonight and he needed to talk, maybe—Joel started laughing as soon as the thought came to him.
That's how much you affected him.
He leaves in direction of the kitchen, guarded by the commotion around the cake.
Joel had trouble finding people he liked talking to. You spoke with him for three hours as if time meant nothing, and now it got him wanting to talk about you to his friends, spilling all the bits of stolen moments here and there.
The texts he's read so many times he has memorized.
He needs to get those things off his chest if he wants to stop clinging to them— they've been inside his close fists since Joel got his hands on them — on you — and he hasn't let go ever since.
"Dad?"
He places the bottle down on the fridge shelf, happy he was caught before and not during the act. He pops his head out, and Sarah's standing on the door of the kitchen with a look.
"What?"
"I promised myself I was gonna stay out of this tonight, but — is there a reason? Any solid reason why you two decided to stay away from each other since you're both so... clearly happy about that?" she finishes, eyeing the fridge as if her view is made of x-ray, and the bottle weighs twice more in his hands.
Then—"Wait." Joel's brain freezes. "You knew?"
Sarah's eyes widen, and her mouth falls open. "Oh. My god." She blinks once, then covers a burst of laughter with both hands. "Dad. You and she are so not subtle—I thought you knew that I knew — oh my god. It's not because of me, is it? I mean—don't get me wrong, if you two as much as flirt in front of me at first I'm gonna hose both of you like, on the spot, but—I'm ok with it. Obviously. You two are two grown adults, and dad, don't take this the wrong way, but last year was the most I've seen you smile in a long, long time."
Joel needed a few minutes to take all of it in.
Was it just because of Sarah?
No one can know, you'd said. What if you were ashamed of him, too? Of the age difference, and —
"The same goes for her, obviously." Sarah's words pulled him out from underwater. "I've known her for a couple of years, but... last year was definitely happier than the other one."
He smiled. "You're the best, did you know that?"
Sarah rolled her eyes. "Duh."
"Tell Tess I left?"
"Sure." Sarah's smile spread. "She just left. D'you want me to text you where she's staying?"
Joel had already gifted her, but that didn't stop him from walking over to kiss her cheek and smile proudly. "I'll buy another gift."
"You better."
Joel drove all the way hoping to be right.
Hoping it hadn't all been just a fluke — the moment, a chase, a thrill.
He breathed a deep inhale before knocking on your hotel door.
It took a second before he heard your footsteps, and he wiped his palms on his jeans. "Uhm — I didn't ask for room service?" you sounded confused.
And like you'd been crying.
Fuck him. "I know you didn't."
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It was him.
You wished you hadn't opened. He looks good — like always, but better. Hair slicked back, thick jacket to shield from the cold and the soft eyes; it's what bought you, and what traps you again.
You're speechless, but Joel helps.
"I just have somethin' to say and somethin' to ask, then I can be on my way. If you want," he adds.
"I thought we had a deal." It's almost like a plaster. A veil to cover the pink hue on your cheeks, maybe. "And how did you get up here without them calling me?"
He lifted his hands — your scarf was in them, and he tried very little to hide his amusement when he explained. "I've lived in this town my whole life. I just told Nina downstairs you forgot your scarf at the birthday party and you left pretty early tomorrow mornin'." Joel looks past your shoulders. "You're not the only one with friends. Can I come in?"
You wonder if it's possible to say no to him.
You simply take a step back, and Joel walks past you.
He feels like an omen standing there in your hotel room. The one you'd gotten because staying at his house seemed impossible.
The one you dreamt about him appearing out of nowhere, just like now.
If you had drunk more tonight, you would think maybe you're out of it.
"I'll keep it short, mostly 'cause I feel like a nerve wreck." Joel clears his throat and turns around to look at you as you close the door behind you. "She knows. Sarah — she uhm, she asked me basically why we're makin' each other miserable."
She knows.
You feel splinted from your body for a moment as the weight of the secret leaves your shoulders.
"She knows?" your whisper is more to yourself than anything else, but Joel still answers.
"Yeah. And also — that was Tess, tonight. With me at the birthday party."
He closed it at that because the rest was implied — you heard of Tess, many, many times.
When you and Joel spoke before Summer and the few times you two spent hours on the phone after long periods of silence in between, Joel told you about his friends. He told you about his work colleagues, about old college memories, about anything you asked.
He waited for you.
Patiently, as you took in the fact that your only worry didn't exist, Joel stood there a few feet across from you with his hands in his pockets, waiting.
And then, "I get if that wasn't the only reason why you said we should keep it between us. But—"
"It was." You were just... flying. Free. You breathed out, weighing a thousand pounds less. So you could have him? "Joel?"
He takes a step forward. "Yeah?"
There's little to be said when both of you move like orbits.
Your arms already know the way around his shoulders. Joel's familiar with the inches of your waist, and more than anything, you missed this, missed him.
His clever hands wrap carefully around your waist, and you abandoned every ounce of worry that this might be a dream.
"What are you smilin' at?" he asks.
Joel asks you that as he molds your bodies into one—the man is nothing but broad shoulders and back, thick arms that act like tentacles on your body that melts into his touch from the get-go.
"I had a lot of dreams like this," you confess. It feels incredible to just say what pops into your mind.
"Well, then let me remind you that real life's better," he mutters, hands already cupping your neck and cheeks.
Joel is the type fo kiss with his whole body.
You have no idea how both of you deluded yourselves into thinking any sort of deal could prevail when you two are made of this:
His hands roaming your throat, squeezing as you cling your legs around his waist and Joel takes the full weight of you on him. The back of his knees hitting the bed, his body and yours falling into a mess and tangle of limbs.
No deal was bigger than the desire you had of jumping his bones whenever he was at close proximity.
You wanted to devour him — you sucked on the fingers he offered with the same gusto your hips rolled against his lap; Joel moaned for you, and he trembled for you, and he smiled for you.
"'m gonna take my time with you — you know I like to take my time, stop grindin' that pretty pussy all up on me," he growls, and you mewl.
Joel is relentless with his touches.
Every time he took you, it felt like a possession.
Like he was carving your body out of marble to keep the curves set in stone — his palms ran through every inch of you until all your clothes were gone somewhere in the room, and he laughed at himself every time you cried out his name in a loud plea for more.
"Please — please just gimme something," you begged.
Joel smiles at you, dropping his pants to the floor. The entire lower half of his face is shining with the slick and sweat from you — keeping his head buried between your legs, your thighs stradling his shoulders and squeezing around his ears — he always started the nights like that.
"I was givin' you somethin'," he replies. Voice low and thick as honey. Just as sweet, too.
He crawls over the bed, naked, and you have to stop yourself from jumping on him until he's on his back. It'd be worse for you afterwards — you learned it the hard way. Joel would milk every orgasm out of you until you blacked out if you kept him from touching your body to his liking before you could do anything, and who were you to complain?
"Need more, Joel," you cried.
"More what?" He palms your calves, and starts smoothing his hands upwards. "Ask for it, baby."
"Whatever you want to give me, just — please."
"Ah. She learned," he chuckles, and kisses the inside of your thighs. They tremble at the feeling of his beard, and he nuzzles his face there for good measure. "I usually wanna see you ridin' my face 'till you're screaming for the heavens, but —" Joel climbs all the way up, cages your face between his forearms and lets his body lay on top of yours slowly. He doesn't give you his whole weight, but part of you wished he did. "I really just wanna be inside you right now."
"Please!"
"We'll have all night, I just—"
He stopped there, but you got where he came from.
It was different.
Knowing you would wake up and he'd still be there — it was different.
Taking him in when you knew he had more to offer and that's what he wanted to give — it made every inch Joel pushed inside feel more real.
He held both of your hands over your head, intertwining his fingers in yours. He went slow, and kept his eyes on you, and you felt less silly about the hours you cried before because you thought he wasn't yours. Because you wanted him to be.
He must sense you getting lost in the what ifs because Joel's talk changes somewhere in the middle.
His praises, always the tether grounding you to Earth while he fucks your mind straight out of it, changes in words and tone. He whispers, "I'm here, baby," in your ear, and it makes your legs hug his waist tighter. Push him inside even deeper. "Fuck — like that. Does it feel good? Is this what you wanted?"
You wanted him. "Yes — want you so bad," you wanted all of him. "All of you, Joel."
That granted you a hand of his letting go of yours only to make a fist on your hair.
It was rare for Joel to lose control, but you loved it when it happened. When he let go of everything and you could see him without anything on — no pretenses, no clothes, no reservations.
Joel started to mumble in your ear about anything, his hips losing rhythm inside of you as he made you ride out your orgasm. He talked about how good you are, how much he'd spoil you, make you his, his his —
You were. You were.
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💖 @sakuralikestars — @mostardentily — @thegreat-annamaria — @leiticia — @polyglot-noodle — @casssiopeia — @earthtocharlene — @levylovegood — @dilfsaremyfavorite — @rosymythologies — @lavenderhhze — @gracie7209 — @waywardwolfbonklight — @shadytalething — @sanzusmile —@yesimwriting — @celestialstar111
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slttygeto · 8 months
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SOMETHING I’M MADE FOR
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what was i made for? | think i forgot, how to be happy
જ⁀➴ synopsis: you owe suguru a lot. a heartfelt apology is one of them.
જ⁀➴ c.w: hurt/comfort, fem bodied! reader, very unrealistic timelines, i have never taken a 'break' while in a relationship so pls dont come for me, reader is mentioned to being depressed at one point, suguru is going through it, second chance sort of.
જ⁀➴ word count; 1,4k
જ⁀➴ note: idk how to feel abt this tbh
comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
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There was no need for you to feel this nervous, but given the amount of times you’ve wiped your hand on the fabric of your skirt that would sound a bit ridiculous. You were nervous, and rightfully so. You stand in front of the same door that you used to have the keys to, a very familiar red wooden door with the number of the apartment written in gold sitting at the very top, you raise your hand and your knuckles collider with the wood one, two and then three times before you’re taking two steps behind out of respect and privacy for your… well, you didn’t know what to refer to Suguru in this case.
You try not to overthink it, you came here with good intentions. Over the four weeks with almost contact with the man except for the occasional text messages here and there, you’ve come to realize a couple of things. First, you needed to apologize to him. Four weeks isn’t enough for you to heal completely from the damage caused from feeling so low in a long term relationship, but it was enough time to reflect on how you behaved that night with him. Some of his words might’ve hurt you, but you later on figured that it was because he was right, as bad as it sounds.
And second, you were ready to let go of him if staying with you was draining him. You knew that Suguru would never tell you something like that—he might’ve been blunt with strangers, but the man had such a soft spot and a sweet side with his loved ones. God knows how much he loves you, and how many times he said it. But you were too busy thinking that your problems were burdening him and thus, you didn’t deserve the man.
You hear shuffling from behind the door and when it swings open with and you’re greeted with a Suguru in a lazy attire, you feel your heart get stuck in your throat. You hadn’t told him you were going to show up, but you had texted Satoru earlier the same week to make sure that he was at home. To say that Satoru wanted to kill you was an understatement, the white haired male was very protective of his best friend no matter how dearly you meant to him.
Me
Hey, is suguru gonna be home this week?
Satoru
yeah. he hasn’t been outside in a while. why?
Your heart drops when you read that. Suguru wasn’t the type to stay holed up in his place for too long.
Me
um I thought id give him a visit
Satoru
yeah sure
he’ll appreciate that
You could feel the ice cold stare of his best friend through those messages. Maybe it was a little childish from his part, but after hearing that Suguru was acting unusual, you figured that maybe this time you would gladly take the heat.
You hoped that the person standing in front of you wasn’t any different from the person you abruptly left four weeks ago after a horrible fight, but one quick look at the messy hair and the sleep deprivation visible on his face was enough to make your chest burn with guilt. You’re unsure of what to say for a good few seconds, eyes darting behind him only to find the vacuum in the middle of the middle room and groceries on the counter. It seemed like he was trying to get life back together, did you really decide to pop at the wrong moment?
“Do you need something?” the way he breaks the silence is almost bone chilling and you find yourself smiling nervously at him before holding up bags of food to show him that you got him his favorite. But he doesn’t budge, emotionless eyes darting all over your face in what you assumed to be an attempt at making you feel small. And boy, it was working.
You feel stupid and drop the bags of food in front of him before taking a few steps back.
“I wanted to talk to you.”
“About what?” Suguru knows what you want to talk about.
“About u-“
“About us?” He cuts you off before you can even finish and raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t you say that you wanted to stop thinking about me for a while?” he continues. “It’s only been a month.”
“A month is more than enough,” you try to reason. “We were together for three years, of course-“
“Should’ve told yourself that when you left me.” Suguru retorts venomously and you start getting the clear picture. While being away from him made you realize how toxic you were behaving towards him, you being out of his life brought out his worst side. You knew this Suguru—he was spiteful, filled with hatred and didn’t hesitate to cut anyone with his words.
“Suguru,” you try again. “Let me come in.” You see him bite back another snarky response and he complies, letting you walk inside.
Once the bags of food are inside and you see him close the door, you hesitate on where to sit. The kitchen seemed to bring back bad memories, so you choose the couch that you both picked when you first moved in here and you watch as he sits on the other side, a little grunt leaving his lips as he leans back and stares at you.
“Seems like you’ve been doing well,” he points out. “I forgot what happy you looked like.”
You squirm a little under his intense gaze, the way his eyes travel from your bare legs up to your upper half then your face. You were used to Suguru’s loving stare, he always looked at you like you meant the entire world to him—but right now? You felt like he could eat you up and spit you out with his eyes.
“I’ve been, um…” You pause and place one leg on top of the other. “Reflecting on how I behaved in our relationship.” You admit and look around the place. He still managed to keep it neat.
“It was wrong of me to explode on you that night, and to keep so many things from you—it doesn’t undo the fact that I said what I said, but I just want to apologize.” Suguru’s eyes seem to soften for a split second when you shift again in your seat.
“For what?” he asks flatly but the way his body relaxes on the couch indicates that he means no harm. “For possibly being depressed when you were with me?”
“No,” you avoid looking at him. “It wasn’t because I was with you it’s because-“
“That’s not what you said that night,” he cuts you off. “I am so perfect and my life is so perfect that being with someone like me made you feel too guilty to tell me about your problems.” He continues before leaning forward, placing both of his elbows on his knees. “My face…apparently, that was also a reason for you not to tell me about your problems.”
“I was wrong,” you start growing a little nervous. “You weren’t the problem, and I’m here to tell you that I am deeply sorry for what happened that night, even if it was needed.”
Suguru is quiet for a few moments, he is in deep thought before he decides to speak up again.
“You know, a month isn’t enough to fall out of love with a person you pictured your future with,” he starts. “But it sure is enough time for you to resent them a little. You’re hurt and confused, everything was going well, or so you thought,”
“Suguru…”
“I thought that maybe I didn’t want to think about you too, that I was doing so much better without you but-“ the dry chuckle makes your heart squeeze. “As you can see, it’s clearly not the case.”
“We don’t have to get back together right now,”  your voice is soft and the way you’re trying to make yourself look small on his couch tugs at Suguru’s heart strings.
“I don’t think it’s that easy either,” he admits. “After all, I still do resent you a little.” His honesty is both relieving and hurtful. A part of you knows that it’s a long and difficult process, but if there was any person actually worth fighting for in your life, it was Suguru. “But…” you raise your head when you hear him speak up.
“I think we could try.”
And through tearful eyes and shared hopeful smiles, you are finally able to breathe again.
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
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2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.
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lethalchiralium · 1 year
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If ur taking requests can we get something like Ghost still doesnt trust fxreader at all even when they are together for like 1/2 years and she gets all sad and starts distancing herself tyxxxx
No More | Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader
a/n: guys. guys i mean it keep the requests coming i love them. also : captain reader? because girlboss??? it’s kinda shitty but i love messy. gives me better control of future chapters :)
CALLSIGN: Mercy
warnings: angst, cussing, realizations and sort of heartbreak.
summary: You’ve been with Ghost for a year and a half - you allowed him into things you kept safe guarded, and realized that he has never done the same for you.
REMINDER: This is a side-blog, not my main! If you have any questions, feel free to message this blog or reblog! Reblogs are always appreciated - as well as any comments, they keep me motivated to write stuff like this!
SERIES MASTERLIST
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You thought he would grow out of it. He’s an adult; given, he’s a very fucked up soldier, but an adult that has done adult things. He’s a few years shy of being in his thirties, and he doesn’t even understand the basics of having a girlfriend. He doesn’t understand a lot of things, and even though you’ve explained to him more times than you can remember, he still didn’t understand you after a year and a half of being together. Sure, you are on the same squad, you leave separately on break but always end up in the same apartment. The apartment that had framed pictures of you, your family, your dog - yet it always feels like he doesn’t give you anything.
It’s been a year and a half and the only personal thing you got out of him was a story about his brother when they were younger. You had told him countless stories of you and your childhood best friend, your single dad who fostered and adopted you. You even told him about your childhood dog who got hit by a car when he was young and still lived to be 15, about the very short memories you had of your godfather before he passed. You had told him everything, you had put your full trust into him and he hadn’t even given thought into putting an ounce of trust into you.
You couldn’t help it when you started to close yourself off - a trauma response from those years in the orphanage, then the system. You took less and less patients, eventually getting confronted by your Lieutenant, “What is going on with you, Captain?” You had given them a half-assed answer, “Got a lot of papers to go through from Price. It won’t be a long time.” And you kept yourself locked in your office, looking over case files and possible missions you could go on to escape this. Escape the feeling that has been gnawing at your soul since the last time you left your apartment with him three months ago. The feeling of distrust, of emotional abandonment.
You didn’t stop your tears when they came every night after Ghost had visited, but you never cried in front of him. You figured that would give him more ammunition to keep you at arm’s length.
Your hand ran across the hefty manila folder, the other held onto your vest collar. You opened the folder.
It was a stupid decision, you knew that. He would never let you get out of his sight, let you be anywhere without his knowledge and approval. But you needed something different - you needed somewhere where you felt like you could breathe, with people you trust and have put trust into you.
Your dog, Cerberus, whined from your cot across the room. You’d been sleeping more in your office than your own room, you figured it was because you were mentally preparing to be out on the friend with your old squad, and definitely not because you couldn’t stand to be in the same room as Ghost. He never let you move away from him in missions, never let you out of his sight when on them - it was suffocating, feeling like you were inadequate in a field you spent most of your life in because of the man you loved with everything you had. You gave him your all, your everything - he definitely made you feel that it would never be enough, without him even speaking a word.
Your eyes read over the mission again. Reconnaissance on a couple of enemy bases, a patrol of safe houses in the area to make sure they were still secure. That and to infiltrate a top secret base deep in the mountains to retrieve information on a possible illegal uranium enrichment plant being constructed. Your eyes darted back across the room to Cerberus, you whistled lowly. The German Shepherd leapt off your cot, scrambling to sit in between you and your desk, he plopped his heavy head on your lap. You smiled at him, scratching behind his ears. “Good boy, Cerby.”
Your team consisted of your good friends, Logan and Hesh Walker, as well as Keegan Russ. You remembered how threatened Ghost was with how close of friends you were with them, you had chose to follow him to 141 instead of stay in the comfort of the Ghost Crew. A choice you had regretted earlier, but not now. You felt a lot better equipped with such an intense task force, you have more medics than before and an actual base to stay in - that and Price seemed a lot more relaxed now that Hassan and Shepherd were no longer a problem.
Cerberus’s ears perked up and he darted out from under your desk as you heard thunderous footsteps coming towards your office.
“Lay down.” You ordered your dog, he looked back at you before he skittered back onto your bed. You stood, your seat wheeled backwards half a foot. It was only five more seconds before your office door slammed against the wall, Ghost stormed in and shoved it back into the frame with his foot. He held up a folder just likes yours before he growled loudly, “What the fuck is this?”
You closed your own folder, moving your hand from your vest collar and splaying your fingers on the cardstock. Your eyes stayed down on the folder stamped, “Classified.”
“You’re going on a mission with the Ghosts?”
Your eyes looked over some stamped patient files, taking them in your hand and opening a few to se did you had signed them.
“Price told me five minutes ago. You’ve known for how long?”
You closed the files and whistled lowly again, the clicking of claws against the concrete was heard as the massive search and rescue dog curled around the back of your legs. You didn’t even have to look to know that he had his hackles raised - when you were on guard, so was he.
Ghost marched forwards and slammed his folder down on your desk, his fist clenched as he growled, “Answer me.”
“A month.” You muttered, eyes staring at the folders in your hands before turning away. You’ve cried over him the night previous and the seven before that, must you face him?
“And you weren’t going to tell me?” His voice was gruff, appalled. “That’s reckless. And you told Price not to tell me? Really?”
“It was need to know.” You answered, placing the files back on your desk before you stepped around your dog to the head of your cot where your duffle sat open. He followed, keeping a distance of six feet from you because of Cerberus curling around your legs and staring at him. Your hands grew shaky as you began to double check everything in your bag.
“I tell you whenever I leave for any mission, any fuckin’ errand, and you don’t dare tell me about one of the most important ops we’ve had in months? Why are you going?”
“They need a medic, they requested me.”
He scoffed. “We need our medic.”
You slowed down, hand brushing over your beige t-shirts as you spoke, “You have my lieutenant, Gomez.”
“I want you here.” His voice softened a little, you shoved the clothes down farther in the bag, pulling out your spare medkit and opening it, eyes darting over its contents. “I only trust you to patch me up.”
You slammed your spare med-pack closed and back into your duffle. You quickly zipped it, sharply saying, “That’s funny, ‘cause you seem not to trust me any other time.” You turned to look at him, eyes brimmed with tears.
His eyes widened. “What?”
“You don’t trust me, Simon. You never let me take my lead when we’re on missions, let me be near you, let me talk with other people.” Your arms crossed over your chest, tears slicing hot on your skin. “You don’t trust me. do you even want to be in this relationship?” Your hand went up and quickly wiped away your tears. “Because it certainly feels like you don’t.”
He stood there, stunned - his hands at his side, he had no idea what to do with them. “Of course I do.” He took a step forward, cautiously placing his right hand out. “Of course I trust you.”
You backed away then, your calves bumped into Cerberus, your hand reached down to touch his head - an attempt to calm yourself. “Then why can’t you put a little faith in me? A little faith that you are the one I go to sleep thinking about? That you are the one I worry about when I’m out on the field, instead of my own safety? That I wouldn’t ever do this to you?” Tears fall rapidly, your heart beat roughly in your chest - anxiety was gripping your diaphragm. “I trust you with my life, Simon. I have since we got together. It’s been almost a year and a half and you still don’t even trust me to have your back.”
He just stands there, arms at his side - his eyes stared at you, dark and full of pain. “I do. I do trust you, Y/N.”
You threw your duffle on your back and walked towards him - shoving a finger into his chest, looking up at him. “You have this whole mission to think about this, about us. Because I can’t be trusting you blindly when you don’t even trust me to breathe.”
You moved around him, whistling for Cerberus. The dog swiftly followed you out of the office, and you slammed the door behind you. You swiftly walked down the corridor, and as soon as you turned the corner, your back hit the wall. Your hand flew up to your mouth, pressing into it to muffle the loud sobs that fell from your throat. Cerberus pawed at your leg before pressing his head to it.
____________________
part 2 here!
Copyright © 2023 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.
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hana-no-seiiki · 2 months
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OKAI THE BRAINROT IS NOT GOING AWAY IM INDULGING IT
LEGITIMATELY REWATCHED A FEW SECONDS OF CHAT NOIR AND WAS LIKE GODDAMN I WANT TO SEE THE ROBINS WITH THIS SLUT BEHAVIOR AAAAA
anyways
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pairings: yandere! batfam x cat villain! reader.
just a little snippet im too lazy for more huhu
the real reason why some of the boys coveted the robin position so much wasn’t cause it gave them batman’s attention
no no no
it was because it meant that you would be inevitably be their rival and, if they’re charming enough, your friend.
you were harmless in the grand scheme of things, helpful in some cases. very much like your mentor, catwoman. only with a much more heavy appetite for chaos and being slutty around the robins and the robins alone
you didn’t care who it was under the mask, if they did not don it anymore you wouldn’t care less about them.
which brings us to our current situation
damian wayne was your latest victim. so far your favorite prey of all those that previously had his spot.
he was everything you liked about the domino masked hero: sassy, controlling, and ever so quick to take the bait that is your teasing.
but a small, itsy bitsy mistake on your part caused him to get horridly injured.
as such you took it upon yourself to take care of him that night.
he kept rattling on about “not needing your pity.” or how “a heinous criminal like you shouldn’t be even touching him” as if you two didn’t wrestle in more ways than one on the regular.
of course you ignored his pleas like always and healed him up
“why are you doing this? if not pity then—“ damian cursed as pain shot through his entire body. every time he was getting on your nerves by speaking too much you’d often dig into him harshly with your gauze.
“i wouldn’t want our chase to be over before you catch me.” you breathed out, wincing at all the blood before you.
heroes and vigilantes alike often dehumanized you. would say that you were some heartless, ruthless criminal with no regard nor compassion for anybody but yourself. but you could never get used to the blood and violence it took for you to get what you want — what you needed.
selina said that was your best trait
“after all, don’t you enjoy proving those stupid do gooders wrong?”
she’d say
you smile as you remembered the times you’d tease his predecessors. how you’d shower them with love, how you’d endear yourself to them. your little birdies til they weren’t. it’s amazing how blinded by love they were. they never even began to think that your flighty nature was the one at fault and not theirs for failing to keep their occupation.
perhaps you should thank bruce for his shitty parenting techniques.
damian never really thought much of you. he knew of tim’s little stalking hobby, of jason’s bloody shows of affection, of dick’s reckless attitude whenever you two fought. he just saw those as proof of his triumph, his superiority. if you acknowledged him then he succeeded. if you pitied him then you saw him as a failure.
then he realized he never truly understood them until this moment
but now that he knew just how much he has, that his brothers don’t. something that they would no doubt kill to have again…
he’ll make sure they never get you even over his dead body.
check reblogs for more cause ill be adding there for the uh 12-24 hours
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starlightsearches · 1 year
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Yes, absolutely! So. Eddie x FemReader. They are best friends and have this special bond but all of a sudden Eddie pushes her aside for another girl he's dating or is interested in, letting her sit in the reader's seat, canceling traditions of years like movie night, etc. But somehow he wakes up and realizes he has been an ass to her (maybe because he actually wanted to get over his own feelings for her) but the reader isn't so quick to let it all go - she wants him to prove how sorry he is!
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Jealousy, Jealousy
📼✨ mixtape milestone ✨📼 requests are open!
thanks for the request, bestie! and an even bigger thanks for your patience 😬 i hope you enjoy!
Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader
Comments likes and reblogs are always appreciated, let me know what you think 💖
Warnings: mostly just language and a little drama and angst and then fluff I think but let me know if I missed anything. I've always wanted to play around with POV switches like this, which is probably why it's taken me so long to finish this one 🙄
You're fuming in the front seat.
Eddie keeps his eyes on the road—more than he probably ever has while driving—afraid that if he even glances in your direction all the smoke you're letting off will start to fog up the windshield. Like he's driving around with a forest fire in his van.
"Listen," he says, even though he's not sure what's going to come after, "it's not even a big deal."
They're the first words out of his mouth since he told you, and they're definitely the wrong ones. Your eyes flash, smoldering at the center like cigarette ends.
Your look may be fire, but your voice is all ice.
"To you."
"What?"
"It's not that big of a deal to you, Eddie," you tell him, shifting against the dirty leather seat like you can't even stand to be near him, "but it is a big deal to me."
Valerie fucking Reed—just thinking her name has you seeing blood. Everything about her puts the wrath of god in you, from the fake-ass pitch of her voice to the way she flips her hair over her shoulder whenever she thinks she's said something clever.
You'd hated her from the moment you'd met her, after the painfully cliche the freaks sit over there cafeteria routine she'd put on for you your very first day in Hawkins. You were more prepared for that shit now—had educated yourself in the art of biting comebacks and fought only with words even when you wanted nothing more than to bash her head into the linoleum tile.
But at a brand new school when you were desperate to make friends? Absolutely devastating.
If you were held at gunpoint and forced to say one honest, nice thing about her, there'd only be one you could offer up: it was her fault you'd met Eddie. With tears still stinging in your eyes, you'd carried your lunch tray in the direction of her pointed finger, falling into the nearest empty chair and tucking your chin into your chest so no one would see you cry.
That was when Eddie swooped in, big doe eyes and denim vest rattling with pins, and a thousand stupid jokes—not exactly a knight in shining armor but you'd never wanted one of those anyway.
Now Valerie wants to take him away from you, too.
Eddie drums his hands on the wheel, fidgeting with the volume on the tape he'd let you choose to soften the blow. He let's Fleetwood Mac fill the empty space between you, all the words he should say replaced with Stevie's soft vocals.
He's not used to fighting with you. Your friendship has always been as easy as breathing—except when it's not.
. . . But you really can't be blamed for that. It's not your fault he feels all weird inside every time you smile.
He wishes you'd smile at him now.
"You know," you say, feet planted on his dash and your chair pushed all the way back, "I didn't say shit when you started ditching me at lunch to deal to her and her friends, or when you skipped on movie nights for all those parties she threw because I get why you had to go, but a fucking date?"
"She just needs a place to smoke . . ." Eddie mumbles, skin hot at the word date.
You roll your eyes with enough bite he actually feels the sting.
"Right. She just needs to get high with you at your place, because she has nowhere else to go.”
Your lips drip with venomous sarcasm—absolutely soaked through with the belief that he couldn't possibly sit in the same room as Valerie and not touch her.
Do you really have so little faith in him? Eddie's got way more self-control than either of you would give him credit for. There's never been a moment he hasn't wanted his hands on you, and he's alone with you all the time.
“Come on,” he says, swallowing so his voice won't crack, “we do that.”
“It’s different," you snap back quickly.
Yeah it fucking is, he thinks, but Eddie doesn't say a word. Maybe the silence will speak for itself—or maybe it could, if you'd let it.
You carve a frustrated hand through your hair, staring him down. “Like, how do you think it would feel for you if I went out with fucking Jason Carver?"
He resists the urge to gag. "It's not like that."
It's really not like that. Just the thought of it has Eddie feeling both sick and violent, unsure if he was more likely to throw a punch or throw up.
He takes the turn into your driveway, watching you collect your stuff with a brutal speed.
"Yes it is, Eddie," you tell him as you slide from your seat before he's even fully hit the breaks, "actually, it's worse. Because Jason is a dick to everybody, and Valerie's got some fucking target on my back. I wouldn't be surprised if this was all part of some evil plan of hers to make me jealous because—"
You cut yourself off immediately, words stoppered by some invisible dam, eyes wide. Eddie's body goes cold when you slam the door without saying goodbye, stomping off to your doorstep.
He scrambles for his seat belt, practically falling out of the van in attempt to catch up to you before you get inside.
"Wait a second," Eddie says, holding the door open with his hand and trying to catch his breath, "why would that make you jealous?"
You scuff the toe of your boot against the step. "Nothing, it's stupid."
Eddie raises a brow, but you can’t look at his big, brown, beautiful eyes right now, tracing down along his leather sleeve to where his hand is planted against the door, black-painted nails splayed wide and already chipping, although you only did them a few nights ago.
Rude that the only time you get to hold him is when you're doing him a favor.
"Stupid how?" he asks.
You shrug. "I dunno . . . she just thinks I have a crush on you or something."
It's a surprise he hadn't already heard; about half of the girl's locker room were still stripping out of their gym clothes when Valerie had to bring everybody's attention to your black lace bra, before sharing a few theories on who you were wearing it for.
"Like I said, stupid." You ignore the heat in your cheeks, gripping the door again and trying to force it shut, but Eddie's not finished.
You wouldn’t notice, but his chest is heaving under his black t-shirt, palm sweating against the door. A crush? On him?
Is Valerie as delusional as he is?
"Wait," —his mouth is on a roll before his brain has caught up— "do- do you?"
Your eyes go wide with surprise, and then shrink into slits as you push him back from the door, one hot hand planted against his chest.
"Fuck you, Eddie," —he catches the words just before the slam— "fuck you for real."
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It wasn't a no.
He repeats the words in his mind like he’s casting a protection spell. Like it’s some kind of ward against your anger as he scales the tree outside your window.
It’s harder than it looks, and he’s already making it look pretty difficult—but one hand’s busy clinging to the greasy paper bag packed full with burgers and those crispy tater tots you love. He manages to wiggle his way up to your window sill without losing his pants, even though the tears at his knees got caught on every twig and branch he passed.
Eddie steals a glance of you through the sheer curtains, holding back his fist from knocking. Just so he can look at you properly, without all the static of having you look back.
You're stretched out on your bed, feet in the air and headphones caught over your ears while you flip through the pages of a book. He hasn't seen these pajamas before—the little shorts that just cup the edge of your ass, and a sheer tank top. His nails are leaving little indents in his palm.
Eddie hasn't made a sound, but with the way his eyes are tracing over you, you gotta feel it. You find him at the window, and he panics, rapping his knuckles against the glass a second too late.
You roll you eyes at him, but at least you let him in.
There are honest-to-god butterflies in Eddie's stomach when he flops beside you on the bed. And he wouldn't lie—at least not to himself—but he'd tried to feel something like this before, when Valerie first started paying all that attention to him.
Her manicured hand would brush over the sleeve of his jacket while he'd be getting her product and he'd wait for this same feeling, hoping he had a weakness for all pretty girls, that any attention would him stumbling over his words and these feelings didn't have to be the end of the best friendship he'd ever had.
But it's you.
You cross your arms over your chest, frowning. "What are you doing here?"
Eddie's smile is sheepish, but not nearly apologetic enough for your taste. He holds up the paper bag in his hand, dotted with dark splotches where the grease leaked through. It lets out the heavenly scent of fried food.
"I brought dinner, you know, for movie night."
He slips a tray of tater tots from the bag, and you're resolve falters. You hold back your hand from reaching for one even though you already know how incredible it would taste, the little rivulets of salt and shining grease coating the golden skin.
"What about Valerie?" you ask, stealing your eyes away from the junk food. You hate how petulant your voice sounds.
He just shrugs, pouring out some ketchup onto the tray, licking the excess off of his pinky finger. "Told her I had other plans."
Eddie pops a tater tot into his mouth and bites down with a heavy crunch, but it feels like your heart's the thing being popped between his teeth.
And what more were you expecting? That he'd tell her to fuck off and take her money and friends with her? She's the queen of Hawkins, and you're . . . not.
Maybe you and Eddie are both delusional—or stubborn—enough to pretend like you don't care about the politics of high school, but people had abandoned their morals for less.
“So you blew both of us off, then?”
He pauses mid-bite, like a prey animal, like if he doesn’t move you can’t be mad at him.
“What?” he mumbles through a mouthful of chewed-up potatoes.
You snatch a tater tot from the tray, chewing and swallowing even though your stomach is starting to churn because something bad is going to happen and you can feel it coming like a storm in the air.
“Why are you here, Eddie?”
“I- uh, to say sorry,” he stutters.
The food's getting cold in his hands before you respond.
“What’re you sorry for?”
What’s he sorry for? Eddie has a whole list: sorry for making a fool of myself, sorry for hanging out with Valerie because I thought it might make you jealous, sorry sorry sorry for trying so hard to get over you and doing such a bad job at it.
“I, you know . . . I shouldn’t have made other plans on movie night.”
Those were the wrong words again. Crazy how easy it is for him to fuck this up—like it was something he was born with.
For a second, Eddie thinks you'll yell at him, and he's comforted by that. If you yell at him, you still care.
You take in a deep breath, and Eddie braces himself. He can take whatever you give him, will shoulder any insults you hurl and forgive you for it the second it's over.
But your shoulders slump. You let out a heavy sigh.
And he knows he can't take that.
"I'm really, really tired, Eddie," —you won't even look him in the eyes when you say it, sliding the window open again,—"see you tomorrow?"
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But Eddie doesn't see you for two whole days.
That's a fucking record.
He thought you might need space, you know. So he gave you Saturday to cool off, kicked around at the trailer and gave Wayne vague answers about why you weren't around and ignoring the look in the old man's eyes. Listening to sad records and getting high and trying not to stare at your smile in all the photos plastered on his wall.
Sunday, Eddie drove by your house with the volume all the way up on your favorite Rolling Stones album, windows down while he idled at the curb. There was a twitch in the curtains, but you weren't there to shout at him for all the noise before climbing in on the passenger side.
Eddie knocked at your door this morning, hoping at least you’d want a ride to school. Your mom opened it with a sad little frown, telling him you’d already taken your bike.
And really, the two days have only ended on a technicality. Eddie sees you right now, reading a book with your head bent low, sitting at the far end of another table.
"Hey—" Eddie twitches when the flying french fry lands against his cheek with a wet slap— "are you gonna go talk to her, or did you just wanna stare?"
Mike laughs at his own joke, and the other guys giggles along.
Eddie's used to the ribbing. He's never minded it—when you're not around. Kind of enjoyed it a little. Even with his heated cheeks and stammered shut ups that completely gave him away, he needed somebody to acknowledge what he was feeling. It made it more real.
But Eddie's not in the mood for jokes today. And he doesn't need anybody to remind him that he's in way over his head with you.
He shoots the freshmen a look that works just as well as throwing a hand over their mouths—without the risk of being licked—and brushes the potato chunks from his hair while the rest of Hellfire pick timidly at their lunches.
And Eddie goes back to staring.
This time, though, you're staring back.
He meets your eyes. Just for a second, wide with surprise before you snap your head back in the direction of your book, tucking your nose between the pages. Doesn't matter how quick you were though. Eddie caught the look you were giving him.
And his heart is beating hard, like it did on the day he first met you. His limbs all staticky and weird, palms sweating because even from the first second he knew you existed he's wondered what kissing you would feel like and the question never left his head.
Eddie's on his feet before he can think about how bad of an idea this is.
"Hey," Dustin calls to him through a mouthful of square pizza, "what're you doing?"
Eddie just shrugs.
"Probably something stupid."
You can see Eddie's long legs moving in your direction from the corner of your eye, and your stomach drops out of your ass like a dip on a roller coaster in the dark and you can't see the end. He says something to the guys—his lips are moving—but you can't make it out over the sound of the cafeteria rumble, the chatter of the other girls sitting at the same table as you, talking animatedly about all the dates they went on over the weekend and completely ignoring your presence.
You dip your head closer to the pages of your book, so close all the words blur together, trying to hide from Eddie like you've been hiding the past few days. You shouldn't have even glanced in his direction, should have let the burn of his presence so close and still too far away swallow you up.
It’s getting hotter with every step he takes toward you, and you’re getting smaller, body tight and your lips caught between your teeth.
He slides quietly into the seat beside you, fingers drumming against the table, and the sound feels louder now that the girls have quieted down, not-so-sneakily listening in on whatever's about to go down between you and Eddie—hungry like sharks for any new gossip, ready to spread the nitty-gritty about why the freaks are fighting.
Eddie dips his head down, eyes big and already so sorry it feels like a punch to the gut.
"Hey," he whispers, trying to smile and failing miserably, "come here often?"
You try to smile back, but it's not much better. "Hey, Eds."
It's quiet, but not the comfortable kind of quiet you're used to around Eddie. It's a hot and sweaty quiet, a trapped-in-a-car kind of summer burn that makes your lungs go shallow.
Eddie perks up, the first words he can think of spilling out of his mouth.
"The guys were thinking about going to the record store after school. Would you wanna come?"
You wouldn't have thought for a second about refusing an invite like that a week ago. Heaven was nothing compared to wandering around a music store with Eddie.
"I don't know if I can today," you say instead, and then when you see the look of hurt on his face, you soften the blow with, "I gotta go to the library for some . . . stuff."
He hums. "Stuff?"
You shrug, playing with the pages of your book. If you're quiet enough, maybe he'll give up.
But he doesn't go anywhere. His hands stay planted on the table, silent and still for once. The black nail polish is almost completely chipped off his nails—probably picked off and littered all over the linoleum.
Eddie's voice is a whisper when he breaks the silence. "Are we gonna talk about it?"
"About what, Eds?"
"Why you're so mad at me . . ."
You've seen Eddie through a lot of shit, but you've never seen a look like this on him—eyes like saucers and brimming with shiny tears.
And you thought being in love with him was rough, but hurting him is a thousand times worse.
"I'm not mad at you, Eddie," you admit, hiding your eyes in the palms of your hands and pressing down until you see stars, "it's just . . ."
You don't get to finish your sentence.
Valerie's calling Eddie's name from across the whole fucking cafeteria. You watch her waving, standing on her tip-toes like she's not the only place in the room anybody can look, like every facet of her doesn't already scream give me attention!
Eddie sandwiches his lips together, pressing until they turn white. You're not going to like whatever he has to say next.
So you slip the dagger from his fingers, standing from the table. He can't hurt you if you hurt yourself first on his behalf.
"Actually, we can talk about this later," you tell him, slipping your bag on over your shoulder.
"Hey—"
There's sparks in your hand where he holds you, an eruption of butterflies in your stomach. It's just your hand in his, but that's all it takes for you to forget yourself, eyes caught on his soft mouth and pink tongue.
Valerie's approaching. You can see her stalking toward you over Eddie's shoulder. There's no room for vulnerability within a mile radius of her. You've got to get away before she sees all the softest parts of you exposed and decides to go for the jugular.
The door's within reach when the room goes quiet. Quiet enough Eddie doesn't even have to raise his voice when he says your name.
He's no stranger to standing on tables, but it's the first time you've seen him look so awkward, hands swinging at his sides in tight fists.
"I- I think I might be in love with you," Eddie says, "and I'm really, really sorry."
There's a chorus of ooooooooooohs from the audience, and maybe a few confused whispers from all the people who passively assumed you were already dating. Then all eyes are on you, waiting.
It's too fucking hot in this room, and your vision's starting to blur at the edges, feeling like you're on a stage and you can't remember the next line after Eddie's verbal punch to your gut.
You mumble a sound, falling backwards through the door and into the safety of the hallway.
Eddie's down off the table as soon as you disappear from the cafeteria, totally ignorant to the laughter and the jeers from all the dickheads watching.
Valerie's in his line of sight when he hits the ground.
"That was weird," she says, and Eddie can't tell if she's purposefully getting in his way, or if she's just got that aura of somebody who could tackle you to the ground but would never bother because she doesn't have to. "I mean I always knew she was a freak but—"
"Fuck off."
Eddie really would like to get into it more with her, maybe mention that he's been up-charging Valerie every time she mentioned your name, or that half the stuff he's been selling her was mixed with ten-year old spices from the cupboard above the oven.
There's more noise, but nobody else trying to get in his way, the path clear all the way to the door.
It's quiet in the hallway, and that alone leaves Eddie disoriented, swinging his head wildly, unsure which way you went.
"I'm down here."
You're on the floor a few feet away, head rested back against one of the lockers, and all of the bad shit goes away. It's that simple—like a light-switch—Eddie's panicked, and then he's not.
You're looking up at him with a soft kind of smile, despite the tight look in your eyes and sheen over your skin.
He slides down to the floor, long legs stretched out into the empty hall, shoes leaving little scuff marks across the linoleum.
"I'm sorry,"—you tell him as soon as he hits the ground, "about, you know. It was just, um, a lot."
"Don't be," he laughs, "that wasn't the smartest idea I've ever had."
The smartest idea he ever had was talking to you that first day, snatching you up before anybody else could.
Your tongue snakes out from between your lips, and Eddie has to physically hold himself back from tasting you. Your eyes dropped to his lap, your voice is small when you ask, "did you mean it?"
"Yeah, honey,"—probably should've kept the nickname to himself— "meant every word."
He's about to mumble something like, but if you don't feel the same it's totally fine, even though it definitely wouldn't be, when your head drops onto his shoulder.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I don't know . . . just felt like a personal problem."
You laugh, and the sound shakes through him.
"I dunno, Eds. You being in love with me kinda sounds like something that I'd wanna know."
"I'll keep that in mind, for next time," he whispers. You're looking up at him with those big, soft eyes, breath pillowing against his face.
"It's the same for me," you tell him, "in case you were wondering."
In all the time Eddie's thought about kissing you, he never imagined it happening like this—on the floor with somebody's combination lock digging into his back. With your hands in his hair and the dull roar of the lunchroom somewhere nearby and his thumb tracing along your jaw and you smiling against his lips.
He was definitely missing out.
There's the metal clank of the door, and a chorus of footsteps somewhere down the hall. Eddie recognizes Dustin's voice.
"Oh my god, dude. Fucking finally."
2K notes · View notes
literaila · 6 months
Note
hi! you’re writings amazing, ily (i reblog everything i read from u, you’re fics are so- just so perfect)
can i request more of peter parker x mean! reader i thoroughly enjoyed that one, maybe just peter reassuring her that he’s not going to her hurt her and he’s not going anywhere (their in an established relationship but she’s afraid of getting hurt because she likes him so much- abandonment issues and all that 🫣)
involved
tasm!peter x reader
summary:
“i don’t know how serious this is for you.”
“you don’t?”
warnings: self doubt, undiscussed relationship stuff, peter obv.
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*
you hear your name before you catch it on the edge of a breath. because you only know one person who would call out to you, and only one person who’s voice you would listen for.
and then peter parker’s hand is wrapping around your arm, and he’s smiling down at you like the world is slow enough for this moment to pass right by.
but it doesn’t. and you frown back. “hey,” you say, but what you really meant was—can’t you tell i’m avoiding you?
“where are you?” he asks, none the wise to your grump brows or hesitance to touch him back,
“walking by the mess hall?”
peter tilts his head at you, bumping into you with his elbow. “no, i mean, where are you all of the time? i haven’t seen you in, like, a week. i’m withdrawaling.”
“i’ve been studying.”
“for what?”
“my class?”
he snorts at you, hand trailing down your wrist to intertwine with yours. which you let happen, reluctantly. “not feeling very explanatory today, huh?”
“i don’t like answering dumb questions.”
“not even mine?” he pouts, though breaking almost immediately, and going back to his signature smirk.
you look away. stupid peter and his stupid smiles.
“want to hang out tonight?” he asks, flowing with this irritated version of you immediately. because he’s so understanding. “we could watch a movie, or something. grab take-out?”
“i have a test tomorrow,” you gently try to pull away from him, which peter doesn’t notice in the slightest. “so i probably shouldn’t.”
shouldn’t, you think, not can’t, or won’t. you probably shouldn’t be spending anymore time with peter parker and his short attention span. his long reputation.
“it’s friday.”
“correct, peter. good job.”
he snorts, again. “no, i mean, it’s saturday tomorrow. how do you have a test?”
“it’s a mental test. how long can i sleep in after going to bed at seven?” you say this without skipping a beat, trying to keep the wince off of your face.
because, despite all else, you’ve really been trying not to hurt his feelings. you don’t want to tell him that you don’t think this is working out, or that you don’t want to be alone with him for any amount of time in the foreseeable future.
no, ghosting is much preferred.
“so you don’t want to hang out,” peter drawls, casually. “that’s okay. if you’re tired, i get it.”
he’s being sweet. still smiling if just a bit dimmer than before. he takes rejection like it’s a suggestion.
something about it irritates you. if he were less cool, or more direct, or any other thing than the perfect person he is—
“i’ve got to go,” you snap out, before your mouth can even open.
you shake your hand from his and try not to linger on the remaining sparks flying through it.
you turn away from peter, walking the opposite direction of home, and not caring even a bit. each step further away from him is some relief—disappointment—curling up inside of you. crawling to your chest and staying there.
but peter follows, because of course he does.
“woah,” he tries to reach out for you, but yoh jump away from him, like he’s some type of poison. “what’s wrong?”
“nothing, peter.”
he takes a step closer, but doesn’t try to touch you.
you hadn’t even realized that you’d stopped.
“you’re upset,” he says slowly. “did i do something?”
“no.”
“did something happen?”
“no.”
“are you feeling alright?”
“no!”
you sigh and look away from him. his eyes are unbearable to look at. his easy-going nature and his inquisitiveness are irritating. he’s too nice for his own good. too nice for you, especially.
“okay, sweetheart, why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” he suggests this like suggesting something for dinner. “i might not be able to help, but i can listen. i like the sound of your voice.”
“ugh,” you get out, before you can think better of it.
“what?”
“don’t flirt with me. it’s disgusting.”
peter laughs. “havent we gotten past that? i’ve seen your—“
“don’t finish that sentence.”
“i was going to say bedroom.”
“yeah, right.”
“serious, baby. let’s talk. i’ve missed you.”
“talk,” you raise your brows. “right here?”
“well we can go to your place, or mine, but i don’t really feel like walking in awkward silence, so—“
but you’re not listening to peter. you’re watching his eyes dart around, and wondering how much you should be memorizing right now.
“for how long?” you blurt out, interrupting him and whatever he was saying.
“hmm?”
“you said you missed me. for how long?”
peter glances at you, quizzically. “since i last saw you, obviously.”
“no, i mean…” you kick at a rock with your shoe, unsure what to say, or how to say it. or how to do any of this without finding out the truth. “i mean, how much longer?”
“how much what, bub?”
“how much longer will you miss me?”
peter pauses. he’s staring down at you, biting on his lip. his eyes are questioning, and frozen, like he hasn’t heard a word you said. but he must have, because he says: “what?”
almost shocked like. almost like any of this is a surprise.
you shake your head, looking away from him.
“no,” peter tilts your head back to him, hand warm around your face. “what do you mean?”
“i just…” you feel lost for words. like you’re preparing yourself for the loss of something else. “i don’t know what you want, peter. i don’t… i don’t want you to say you like me for a few weeks, and then move on to someone else. i—“ you shake your head again, angry because it doesn’t make sense, and because peter is literally the only person you would say any of that too.
the only person you would want to.
“what? you think— you think i’m leading you on, or something?”
he sounds offended, so your eyes go to his, trying to read his face but there’s nothing there.
you sigh. “i don’t know how serious this is for you.”
“you don’t?”
“it’s not… i mean, it’s not like we’ve talked about it and i didn’t want to seem, um, too involved.”
“involved?”
“dedicated.”
“you didn’t want to seem too dedicated to me?”
your brows furrow at him. “you’re making me sound really lame.”
at that, peter finally cracks a small smile. “you said it, not me.”
“yeah, i know.” and then you roll your eyes at yourself.
“is this why you haven’t called me back in a week?”
“was it that obvious?” you say, voice dripped with sarcasm.
peters hand has dropped between the two of you. and his fingers graze against yours. in a moment of weakness.
“how long have you been worried about this?”
you think for a moment, making sure to keep your eyes off of him. “since the second time you asked me to dinner.”
his brows furrow. “that was last semester. like, a week in.”
“yeah.”
you peek up at him. his eyes are wide like he’s surprised. but there’s a hint of a smile on his face, a ghost of the humor he usually has.
so your head snaps up, and you frown. “are you laughing at me?”
peters lip twitches. “no, i mean—“ you step back from him. “i’m not laughing at you,” he swears, and then does just that.
you scowl, continuing to pull back.
“i’m not, really,” he shakes his head. “it’s just…”
“just what?”
peter looks up, praying to something that you don’t understand. you almost look with him. “i’ve spent the last six months just trying to get you to go out with me.” he says, finally.
you’re still frowning.
“honestly, i’m just a little shocked. i thought—“ he breaks off, wincing a bit. “well i assumed it would be obvious. that i was serious about this. us.”
“you—you’re like that with everyone.”
“i’m not the way i am with you around anyone else.”
you swallow. “really?”
“you make me actually insane,” he steps closer. “and that’s okay. i like it. but why would i spend all that time getting to know you, suffering from your abuse, or helping you out just to leave as soon as you started to reciprocate?”
“you like a challenge?”
“not that much.” his voice is loud, but his face is blown away. like you’ve shocked him enough to ruin any concern he had just minutes before.
“oh,” you whisper, feeling incredibly small.
he’s saying all of the right things, like he usually does, but you don’t have anything to say back. he still hasn’t managed to dislodge that fear from the pit in your chest.
peter must know this, the way he just knows things about you, because he grabs your hand, and leans down toward you. “i like you,” he says, so simply. a shrug to emphasize this point. like he’s already worked this thought out in his brain.
“i know you like me—“ you start, unprepared to lay yourself on the line with him, to care for him like he’s the only person in the world. even if you’ve already started
but peter stops you.
“i’m in love with you.” his voice breaks on the word.
just like your heart.
you stare at him, shocked, and bewildered, and lost in the whole idea of keeping him. coveting him like a prized possession.
peter is never serious. but he says this like it’s the only real thing in the world. like he believes it, wholeheartedly.
“okay?” peter whispers, like he’s repeating it. making sure you understand. you’re staring at him. “i love you.”
“you do?”
“more than i should,” he promises, smiling at the end.
“really?”
he laughs again and bends down to kiss you, his lips sweet and possessive. a signature at the bottom of the contract. when he pulls back, just slightly, he’s rolling his eyes. ��i stalked outside your class so i could pretend to run into you.”
you frown. “that’s creepy. how’d you know what class i had?”
“you think i don’t know your schedule by now?”
“i—“ he interrupts you by kissing you again, hands wrapped around your face. “peter,” you whisper, when he breaks free.
“don’t avoid me, okay? i couldn’t think all week. i almost set myself on fire in the lab, because i thought every notification i got might’ve been you.”
you blink, looking away. “sorry.”
peter smiles, stepping back and taking the strap of your bag before you can protest. “you can make it up to me by buying me dinner.”
you scowl, looking back at his adoring face. “please.”
peter grabs your hand and begins to walk, and this time you don’t even mind.
“i also accept cash.”
“i kissed you. that’s worth, like, seven dinners. you’re lucky.”
he looks down at you, smirking once again. “damn right.”
*
822 notes · View notes
sapphosclosefriend · 5 months
Text
- Money, Power, Glory pt 3 -
Pairing: CEO! Silverfox! Natasha Romanoff x Escort! Fem! Reader
Genre: suggestive, maybe even a little fluffy
Summary: the way you both feel for each other seems to change a little and, after once again staying over at her place, she makes a way too appealing proposition. Part 1 Part 2 Part 4
Word count: 2.7k
Warnings: top! Natasha x bottom! R, Natasha has a penis, big age gap (N =56, R=24), making out, suggestive themes, extremely brief oral (R receiving).
A/N: this story contains mature themes so anyone who isn’t 18+ DNI. Chapter 4 is already in the works and it will be a bit deeper. Let's not talk about how the Christmas special is going because it's currently not going…anyway. Again, thanks to @supercorpdanbeau and @rt--link ♡ As usual, likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated! Enjoy ♡
Masterlist
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Isn't it crazy how fast time passes? Well, it certainly was to you. You just couldn’t believe it had already been six whole months since your first encounter with Natasha and saying that your life went upside down thanks to her was an understatement.
On one hand it felt as if it hadn't been a day since the first time you'd stepped into her elegant home, but maybe that was only because of just how much time you'd been spending with her. Hours soon turned into evenings, which turned into nights, days and even whole weekends. She definitely seemed to like the thought of having you always ready for her to enjoy and, having the financial means to do so, asking you to spend prolonged periods of time with her, sometimes not even engaging in sexual acts for some parts of your encounters, slowly started becoming the norm. Of course she would've gladly booked you even just to watch you sip on a drink and read a book in a bikini by the pool at her beach house while she was stuck on a stupid work call, but she knew that even if her intentions were ever to be pure, they would've immediately taken a turn once she'd be in your presence. You wouldn't have been opposed to the idea either, after all Natasha's presence was slowly becoming something you simply didn't like being without and spending more and more time with her, even without doing anything at all, only kept sounding more appealing as time went on.
You soon realized that you'd just added a regular to your customers list, despite the older woman never clearly stating so. In fact, she seemed to be quite adamant in declaring that your meetings were strictly a means for her to destress only once she needed to. Maybe she was truthful and her life, which consisted pretty much only of her job, was, after all, more stressful than you thought. But something in you was telling you that it wasn't completely true. If that something was just a hopeful part of you talking, you didn't know.
What you did know pretty soon, though, was that she wasn't going to be any regular client, you just knew something different was going to happen with her, you could feel it in you, how different playfully flirting with her was, how real your nervous and timid stance was, how real your orgasms were, how real your eagerness at answering her calls was, how you found yourself thinking less and less about the money that came with her. She was as intoxicating as the most expensive top shelf liquor there was, of which she probably owned at least one bottle, and you didn't think you could've ever been more addicted to her. Of course, no matter what, her bottomless fortune was still incredibly appealing to you. How could it not be? After all, beautiful things require a lot of assets and you've always liked beautiful things, clothes, shoes, jewelry, trips, Natasha. Thankfully, your job and your clients' "generosity" had done wonders over the years at satisfying your cravings, not just through their payments, but with little gifts and rewards here and there. You weren't a sugar baby, not at all, but those kinds of people were power addicts and what better way to assert your dominance than to show off your American Express to a pretty girl and then fuck her brains out, or at least try.
It had happened again and you had spent yet another night over at Natasha's house and the more time that passed, the more you convinced yourself that she really didn't need you to placate her anger anymore. You knew by then what she was like when she needed to unload some stress and what you had been seeing recently just wasn't it. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, she was still perfectly able to leave you limp on the bed even without being rough at all, but it was interesting how she apparently didn't want to admit that maybe she just liked to have fun together simply because.
The ache you felt through your whole body as soon as you woke up in her unfortunately empty bed was clear proof of just how easy it was for the older woman to completely wreck you without even trying. You would've gladly spent the entire day under the warm, soft covers that smelled like her until she came back home late at night, but your rationality slowly pushed your body out of the small piece of heaven you had no interest in leaving. Getting out of her illegally comfortable bed and readying yourself after such a night ended up being way harder than you expected, but you were finally able to join her in the kitchen surprisingly early, even though you were still only wearing a button down shirt, making you not truly ready but still giving you some more time to spend together before she had to go to work and you had to go back home. Your usual bad morning mood was immediately lifted as you were greeted by the back of her tall, built frame wearing perfectly tailored pants and a shirt tucked in that hugged her arms in the most delicious way possible, giving you a perfect view of her upper body clad only by a thin layer of expensive cotton thanks to the suit jacket left over the back of a chair. Maybe you could've gotten used to such beautiful sights blessing your eyes first thing in the morning.
She inexplicably looked effortlessly hot even as she simply blowed a silver strand of hair out of her face, wiped her hands on a dishcloth, that she then laid over her shoulder, and rolled up her sleeves, showing off the watch that was probably worth at least two years of your apartment rent and her slender, veiny hands. She simply looked otherworldly and you couldn't hold yourself from silently pressing your front against her back and untucking her shirt to let your hands rest on her bare stomach, hearing her lowly chuckle at your usual morning clinginess. You stayed silent for a little while, simply soaking in her presence, when you suddenly realized what you'd just walked in on.
"You know how to turn on a stove?"
You would've expected an unimpressed look if she was facing you, but her fake laugh was basically the equivalent to that.
"Ha ha. You know, I haven't always had private chefs."
You knew, of course you did, you were just messing with her and she secretly loved it.
"Did you send them away?"
"No, they're still here, in case I mess this up."
"Is the Natasha Romanoff capable of messing up something like scrambled eggs?"
She didn’t answer your question, no quick remark, no teasing, which told you that yes, she was absolutely capable of messing them up. You didn't press her, though, you were technically still on duty, even though you had a tendency of forgetting it while you were with her, and the first thing you always wanted to do was make sure to avoid at all costs any possible chance of a negative outcome. It may have sounded stupid, but those people were paying you a whole lot of money to have a good time and if something so meaningless such as talking about not being able to cook scrambled eggs could've led them to be in a bad mood then it simply wasn't a topic worthy enough, not even for friendly banter.
"Well, you definitely didn't mess it up last night…my legs are so sore and I need to be at the gym in an hour!"
Your whining as you held onto her tighter amused her, as flashes from the night before, with your arms around her and your nails on her back, made her immediately turn off the stove to turn around and finally kiss you for the first time that day, savoring your content hum at the feeling of her plump lips languidly moving against your own. You had a strange effect on her, like no other woman before, and she could barely wrap her head around it. Any time she touched you in any way, any time she talked to you, any time she was in your presence, her heart seemed to do a leap in her chest, giving her a sense of euphoria she usually felt only after a successful day at work. You were younger than her, so much younger, 32 years younger to be exact, but you strangely felt like the only woman she'd ever been with who could really be at her level. She knew she had to have you for as long as she could and you didn't seem to be too much against the idea, as you started to make more and more time out of your schedule to be with her whenever she wanted, a privilege none of your other clients ever had. Of course your agent was very happy with the new change, but she, like everybody else, only thought of it as a way for you to make even more money, Natasha was the wealthiest of your clients after all. Deep down you knew, though, that it wasn't the only reason why you kept spending more and more time with her. You genuinely liked her and the endless hours you devoted to her were making you the happiest you'd been in a while.
"I'm going to Cuba for work for the weekend, there's a free seat on my plane."
You found yourself whining and chasing after her lips as she broke the kiss to speak, but soon grew intrigued by her proposition, knowing how little work her weekend work trips actually had, usually only one or two phone calls while you sucked her off while still in bed.
"You're asking for a bit too much on such a short notice now, Ms Romanoff."
You were teasing her, making her beg for you to go, even though you knew you would have agreed way before she had to resort to begging, but that didn't mean that there wasn't some truth in your words. Given the amount of time you were spending with Natasha you often had to occupy your weekends with your other clients, who now had to book their meetings with much more notice to guarantee themselves a spot with you. You'd even lost Wanda Maximoff, one of your first ever customers, because you "even dared suggest" to move your weekly meetups from Friday to Saturday, but, as much as it pained you after everything you'd done for her for literal years, you knew that Natasha's money would've still been way more than what you needed to survive.
"I'm offering you a weekend of relaxing, squandering and fucking in Cuba, doesn't sound too bad to me."
It did not sound bad at all, it sounded like the best time you could've ever had and it pained you knowing that you had to give it up to instead spend your weekend pretending to laugh and acting like you'd never cum harder in your life with some "limp dick", as Natasha liked to call your other customers.
"Well, I have clients eagerly waiting for me on those days."
Even as you spoke those words surely, there was still a little voice in the back of your head that kept chanting over and over for you to fuck it, leave everything behind and hop on her yacht to go wherever the hell the woman you l-liked wanted you to go. It didn't happen every single time, you eventually giving in, but way more than you'd like to admit and once again you could hear that voice getting closer and closer, making it impossibly hard for you to resist her temptation, even more so at the sight of her beautiful eyes slightly darkened by hidden jealousy.
"If you blow me on my way to work I'll give you more money than all of those limp dicks together will over the fucking weekend…and of course I'll pay you for Saturday and Sunday."
Why did she have to say something like that? Why did she have to speak to you in that way, with her lips almost touching yours and her hands possessively grabbing your waist and pressing you flush against her front, unknowingly making you feel her bulge so damn well. Of course your slight shiver didn't go unnoticed by her and seeing her pupils dilate as she eyed your lips and the top of your chest only made your breathing all the more shaky as your mind finally settled on the only important person to you. You were going with her, fuck everybody, no amount of money would've been worth more than her right now.
"Now I'd be dumb if I turned down such a tempting proposal."
Of course she didn't need to know just how eager you really were and how you would've screamed YES from the tallest building in the city, not only would it have inflated her ego even more but, more importantly, she would've known just how bad you really had it for her.
"Hmm and you're not dumb, right? No, you're the smartest whore in New York City."
If only she knew how hard you would've slapped anyone else for calling you that, but coming from her only made the name sound like the best compliment you could've ever received.
Her tense expression seemed to have relaxed in the slightest at the confirmation that she was your choice, that maybe at least a part of you genuinely liked her enough that you were willing to cancel on your other customers at the last minute only for her. And just like that, she was hit by it all again, that deep need to have you, carnally and platonically. She once again felt almost overcome by it and could no longer keep herself from taking you again, you were like her own drug and you couldn't keep her from kissing you with so much passion and need that you felt like you would've never been able to stay away from her. God, how blissful it felt, how much did she get off of the power she had over you. She could've easily spent the rest of her life savoring all and every little part of you. You consumed her too much and she always felt like she needed more and more of you.
The thin layer of cotton of your shirt suddenly felt like the thickest brick wall there was and, after taking way too much time undoing your top button only, she firmly grabbed each side of your shirt and ripped it open, making every single button pup and roll over the floor. Your shocked, but secretly pleased, expression went completely unnoticed by her as she ogled at your chest, looking even more delicious to her thanks to the deep red lingerie you wore over it.
"And the hottest"
"Natasha!"
She didn't even lift her gaze to speak or acknowledge you, simply looking at your assets once more before bending over to kiss and suck the skin not covered by expensive lace, taking your breath away and making you completely forget about your famous "no marks" rule you barely cared about anymore with her.
"I'll buy you a new one"
She barely stopped her assault on the tender skin to mumble what tried to be words of reassurance before she started to push you backwards until you were pressed against the kitchen island. You barely noticed her hands sneaking down your body and only realized what she wanted to do when she was already lifting you up to make you sit on the marble counter, pushing you to lie down on the cold surface and hurriedly kissing down your front while taking off your underwear.
"Hell, I'll buy you fucking Max Mara"
Her raspy voice slightly muffled by the skin of your inner thigh as she propped your legs over her shoulders made your center tighten around nothing for just a second, before she dove into your pussy like she needed it to survive.
How the hell could you ever have thought about not choosing her?
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Part 4
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Tags: @fxckmiup @natashasilverfox @dmenby3100 @marvels--slut @dvrkhcld @elenimoris @mrsrushman @mrsromanoff @thalia-is-not-ok @alianovnasposts @clintsupremacy @taliiiaasteria @meowymari @lissaaaa145 @natashaswife4125 @olsenmyolsen @angrywhisperslove @aemilia19 @setsuna1415 @letsboandy
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elllisaaa · 5 months
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no nut november - bangchan (4th to lose)
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-> pairing : chan x fem!reader
-> words count : 3,1k
-> genre : smut, friends/sex friends to lovers
-> warnings : switch!chan, begging, teasing, dirty talk, praising, unprotected sex, hair pulling, handbjod, manhandling, creampie, use of 'slut', a tiny little bit of angst because chan is overthinking + the way i'm depicting bangchan does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction
-> 18+ content bellow, minors dni
-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.
-> masterlist | skz masterlist | no nut november
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November 18th, 10 pm, and all Chan was thinking about was you. Nonetheless, he should focus on what was going on behind his eyes, on his screen. But his mind was clearly not at it since this morning. He tried to work on his new song, on the lyrics, on the beat, on everything he could but nothing seemed to help. 
Chan leaned into his desk chair, sighing and closing his eyes in an attempt to stop his thoughts from running. Without needing to concentrate this time, you immediately appeared to him. At first, it was just your beautiful smile when you were talking about the things you loved, or the way you had to sit on chairs, crossing your legs and making you look so tiny Chan wanted to protect you from the world. But then, it was like someone corrupted him. He could easily picture your blissed out face when you came around his fingers or cock, even more easily picturing your hands stroking his dick. 
Chan sighed again, but that didn’t help him with his little problem. What would’ve helped him was if you were there with him. He saw his phone from the corner of his eyes, peacefully resting on his desk, and he hesitated for several minutes. What should he do ? Call you and lose ? Or just resist ? 
Your relationship was pretty unusual, to say the least. Since the first time you saw each other, you clicked immediately. You were caring and calm, but once you started talking about something you loved, you were the most passionate person he knew. He loved it because you were always able to relax him just with your presence and voice, but he also loved the fact that you could be as energetic as him at other times. 
But besides that, you were also someone who knew what she wanted. And you made it clear to him really quickly that he was what you wanted. And who was Chan to refuse such a proposal ? Obviously, he didn’t. But the more time passed, the more his feelings grew. And worst of all, he couldn’t stop it. Because you also made it clear that you didn’t want something serious, just being friends with benefits was fine, right ? 
It was until Chan messed it all up with his feelings. But before his brain could even register it, he had grabbed his phone and called you already. Must do that quickly so he would not have the time to regret what he had done. 
“- Long time no see Channie !”
The said Channie closed his eyes, feeling his heart skipping a beat hearing your voice. He stayed away from you since the start of this stupid bet, he didn’t realize until now how much he missed you, all of you. 
“- Yeah… Sorry, I know I’ve been distant but…
- Don’t worry ! Binnie told me about it, I have no problem with that. And it’s kinda flattering.
- Flattering ?
- Yeah… It’s like you admitting you can’t control yourself when you see me, isn’t that right ?”
He gulped at your words. You were sadly not that far from truth, except the fact that it wasn’t only your body, but your all self that was tempting him, from the way you were clenching around him when you were about to come to your beautiful smile. Everything about you was a temptation to him, but he couldn’t admit it to you, nor was he able to stop all of that before hurting both of you.
“- You saw right through me again…
- I know you very well, I must admit. 
- So you surely know why I call you ?
- Of course. I’m on my way.”
He could hear your smirk as you talked, and before he even had the chance to answer, you hung up. But you weren’t the type to lie, Chan knew you were gonna knock on his door in a matter of minutes, and he didn’t want to figure out why he felt a heavy weight on his heart.
________________
“- Missed this…”
Your lips trailed along his neck, licking and sucking on it, and Chan tilted his head to the side to grant you more access to his skin. His hands were gripping your thighs firmly, preventing you from moving away from him. Once you put one foot in his room, you didn’t let him think twice before pushing him back into his chair, straddling him and kissing him like you hadn’t tasted him in years. 
“- Missed you Chan…”
His heart melted hearing your sweet voice saying you missed him. And God knows how much he missed you. So much. But he had to be realistic : you didn’t really miss him, you just missed his lips on yours, his hands on you, his dick in you. The facts were there, though. But Chan just decided to push it back and simply enjoy your lips on his and feeling your skin under his fingertips. 
“- I missed you too…”
Your little smile made you look so hot, so hot he wanted to pin you down on his bed and ruin you. But he was weak, you made him weak. So weak you just needed to move slightly against him to get him to moan. And your smile widened at the sound, loving to actually hear the effect you had on him. You closed your eyes, starting to grind on him at the same time. Chan’s hands flew to your hips, pushing you down against his hard cock. You whined quietly, gripping on his shoulders for support. 
“- What do you want me to do baby ? Just tell me.”
Your eyes were only focused on him, nothing else, and Chan felt overwhelmed. He wanted you to kiss him, to lick his body, to let him fuck you. He wanted you to do what you wanted, all of it, just because what he really wanted was to please you. 
“- Whatever you want. I just need you.
- That’s why I’m here. My hands ?”
Chan nobbed and you pecked his lips one more time before backing off a little, allowing you more space to touch him. He saw you licking your lips while pulling off his shorts and boxer just enough to free his hard cock, and it was hot as hell. He should have been ashamed by the fact he was already leaking precum, but your hungry look threw away his last piece of dignity, leaving him entirely at your mercy.
“- You weren’t joking when you said you missed me, hm ?”
Once again, Chan should've felt ashamed, but you both knew you were right. The feeling of his own hands on him wasn’t quite the half of what he was feeling when it was your hands. Your lustful gaze was focused only on his throbbing dick, your teeth biting into the flesh of your plush bottom lip as you watched him chasing your touch. That was making it very difficult for him not to blow right away.
“- Feels good Channie ?
- Yeah… Keep going, please.”
You chuckled lightly at his pleading. He should have known how crazy he was driving you just by existing, not to mention the effect he had on you every time he turned into a stuttering mess under your hands, and it was even worse every time he decided to take control - and you let him do that happily every time. He should have known that he didn’t need to beg for it, that you were eager to please him whenever he liked. 
You pushed your thumb against his flushed cockhead, making him gasp and whine under your touch, before spreading his precum along his now fully hard dick. Your wrist was moving way faster now, your fingers tightening around him. Chan closed his eyes shut, feeling his orgasm approaching too fast. He wanted to enjoy your touch some more, wanted you to look at him the way you did right now all the time - as if he was the only thing in your world. But he needed his sweet relief, he needed to finally let go of the tension and frustration of these past days. 
“- Just a little more… Please…”
You almost moaned, only hearing his low voice begging you was enough for you to surrender and give him what he wanted. You quickened your pace one more time, leaning down to kiss him. And that was all he needed to completely let go, moaning in your mouth as he came hard, his vision becoming blurry and his head starting to spin.
Chan stayed still for a moment, trying to come down off his high. And when he finally opened his eyes again, it was to see you licking your fingers clean. That made something switch in him. You’d notice by the way his eyes darkened, the way his jaw clenched hard, the way his fingers dug into the skin of your hips. 
Without saying a word, he stood up, placing his hands under your thighs to prevent you from falling. You were about to put your hands around his neck but he threw you on his bed, a whine leaving your throat when your back hitted the mattress. That. That was what you loved so much about Chan - he could be putty in your hands and the next second manhandling you like you weighed nothing. 
You admired him as he tossed his clothes away, letting your eyes wander on his tough shoulders, his toned abs, his muscular thighs. You found yourself speechless every time you saw him naked. How could he not see how handsome he was ? You pressed your thighs together trying to suppress your growing desire as he hovered over you on the bed. In no time, he settled between your legs that you spread for him as soon as you felt his knee pushing against them, earning a growl of approval from him. 
“- Take off your clothes.”
You didn’t think twice before doing it. You didn’t think at all in fact. His hungry gaze was burning you, so much you thought you’d explode if he didn’t touch you. Thankfully, he unfastened your belt, sliding your jeans and underwear down your thighs as you threw away your shirt and bra, ending up naked underneath his starved look. He immediately brought his hand to your core, pushing his thumb against your clit, making you whimper. 
“- So wet already… Want me that much baby ?
- Yeah… Please Chan…”
He took your chin between two of his fingers, forcing you to look at him while he sucked off his thumb covered in your slit. And that was enough to make you whine, not only because he was so hot you wanted to bounce on his dick for hours, but also because you knew how much he loved every noise coming out of your mouth.
“- You’re really not going to stop teasing, hum ?”
Your smirk was telling it all, and Chan had enough of you and your filthy mouth. He just wanted to hear you cry and scream only his name, wanted to feel like he was the one made for you. 
“- On all fours baby, and hang on tight.”
You gulped and just obeyed, as if your ability to speak had been removed from you. You settled yourself, and as soon as you stopped moving, he thrusted into you so roughly you would’ve crashed into the headboard if you weren’t gripping on it tightly. The sound you were letting out were animalistic, but you weren’t able to care anymore, not when Chan was pounding into you so hard you think you’ll split in two. But the worst was that you liked it so much, feeling like he could make you come with each thrust of his dick in you, even if he didn’t take the time to stretch you out, it was even more delicious.
“- C-Chan…”
You were interrupted by a loud moan when the man behind you buried himself even deeper inside of you, hitting all the right places at once. You tried to talk again, tell him that you needed more, but your words were coming out as an incoherent mumbling. 
“- So dumb everytime I put my dick in you, aren’t you ? Just need me to fill up your tight cunt…”
You nobbed eagerly, unable to do something else than crying out his name. And that was driving him crazy, his chest filling up with pride knowing he was the only one to please you like that, to fuck you like that. One of his hands slid from your hips, all along your spine, spreading shivers on your skin, only to end up in your hair, grabbing a fistfull of them and forcing you to arch your back even more, allowing him to sink even deeper into you. You were probably drooling, but you didn’t gave a fuck, simply moaning when Chan pulled your hair.
“- Look at you baby… Can’t even talk anymore…”
He tugged your hair harder, the nails of his other hand digging in the skin of your hips from how roughly he was guiding you on his cock. 
“- Maybe I should shut you up like this more often, what do you think ?”
You wanted to say something, wanting to let him know he could use you whenever he wanted to and that you would absolutely adore it.
“- Would you like me to fuck you every time you talk back ?”
And like every other time, he knew what you wanted, saying all the things you needed to hear, doing all the things you needed him to do. 
“- Please… P-Please Chan… I-I need to-”
Another thrust shut you down, reducing you to a mumbling mess. You felt tears pool under your eyelids as the pleasure hit you harder and harder with each thrust, tightening the coil in your stomach. 
“- Use your words, slut.”
The nickname paired to the moan he left out when he felt you clench around his shaft made you feel dizzy, made you feel like you were on the edge of your orgasm.
“- N-Need to cum… S-Shit !”
Chan let go of your hair, your head falling back into the pillow, guiding his fingers directly on your clit, circling it harshly and sending you over the edge in less than a minute. Your moans were so loud you almost felt sorry for his neighbors. Almost because you couldn’t bring yourself to care when you were feeling so much pleasure you could’ve faint. 
Your arms were numb, and your legs were shaking so much you would’ve passed out from the intensity of your orgasm if Chan wasn’t holding you. But his sloppy trusts were keeping you awake, aware of every move he was making, of every noise coming out of his mouth. 
“- Fuck ! You’re so tight… Can I cum inside ?”
You couldn't help your smile, loving the fact that he kept asking you the same question, even though you both knew your answer would always be the same. 
“- Yes, please…”
Chan moaned, and you could easily picture him throwing his head back, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he came, face contorted by the pleasure he was feeling as his orgasm washed over him. You felt his hot cum being spilled out of your pussy as Chan slowed the pace of his thrusts until he stopped totally. You needed a long time to find your breath again, feeling the desire to sleep creeping on you quickly. 
You didn’t react when Chan pulled out of you and helped you get on your back to clean you up. You hummed happily, feeling his touch as light as a feather on your thighs and whole body. You only came back to reality when he stroked your cheek, finding him smiling at you brightly. 
“- Can I stay tonight ?”
You didn’t think about it, it just came out naturally, like it was where you should have been for a long time. It was strange to realize how much you wanted to sleep in his arms just now. But what felt even more right was his honest answer when he immediately said yes. You settled yourself comfortably in his arms, enjoying being engulfed by his warmth and scent. 
“- Thank you for coming…”
You chuckled lightly against his chest, remaining playing with the hair at the back of his head.
“- You don’t need to thank me for that Channie, I’ll always be there for you no matter what happens.”
Chan stayed silent for a long time. He felt like it was the right time, but he couldn’t ignore the fact that maybe he will scare you and ruin his chances to be with you one way or another. Maybe you will run away. Maybe you will tell him you just wanted him as a friend, just wanted him for sex. But he knew he could not keep up with this situation much longer. 
“- I really did miss you… And not just only for… That… Think I might be starting to really like you.”
You said it almost in one breath, not wanting to lose your courage at the last second. You were aware that chances of him liking you back were very low, and you were aware it was you who had established the rules between you. But you also knew that you liked him much more than a friend or a fuck buddy. You liked all his little habits, even the ones he said were the most annoyings, you liked being the only one staying so late in his studio and getting to cuddle him even if he was busy as hell. You liked his smile, his tendency to always care for you, his ability of remembering all of these little details you even forgot telling him about. 
“- Might take you on a date then… I want to do things right this time.”
You finally lifted your head up, meeting his nervous but shining eyes. You could feel his heart beating way faster under the palm that was still placed on his chest. 
“- You did everything you could right. It’s me. I set up boundaries just to cross them out a few months later… And I was stupid to do that just because I was afraid of my feelings. I would love to go out with you.”
Chan kissed your forehead, and you sighed in relief. You didn’t realize until now how much you were craving this tenderness from him, and you couldn’t wait to finally be his official girlfriend to benefit from it every day, and so did Chan. You were all he could have ever dreamt of, and now you were in his arms. And he knew, for the first time of his life, that everything would be alright : with you by his side, he could only be alright.
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-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my works.
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taglist : @bangchans-angel @its-hannjisung @3rachasninja @boi-bi-ahaha @supergoodjudgepsychic @jaiuneamesolitaiire @starsandrqindrops @anonymousreader55 @iwannabangchan69 @b3tOxic @fawnpeaks @lxrii @channiesgoodgirl @imsotiredandalsonineteen @bbchangbinnie24 @chrishak @cscsi @minskzy @hyunlixs-wife0309 @stayconnecteed @miserya99 @puppy-minnie @kaitchan @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @linosssss @channiesbedbug @whosanaanyway @coastalmaine (if your pseudo is crossed out, it's because i can't tag you and you'll have to change your settings).
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osaemu · 9 months
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ミ★ quick learner 🜸
pairing: student! gojo x reader
summary: to you, chemistry means two things – the worst subject on earth and the best feeling ever. satoru somehow teaches you both.
word count: ~2.0k
notes: suggestive. modern au. mentions of organic chemistry. making out. guest appearance by geto. gojo calls you 'smart girl' at one point. rushed. barely proofread. written while i was half asleep. like always, reblogs are very very appreciated.
a/n: i genuinely don't know how i feel about this one... there are parts i like and parts i don't like (that i was too lazy to fix) and it's kinda just stitched together ... lmk what you think in the comments pretty pls 💞
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"question four – what's the difference between molarity and molality?"
"wait, those are two different things?"
since you and satoru had both procrastinated studying for your impending chemistry test, you found yourselves at the library long past midnight. 
it was an accident – when you had decided to study in the library instead of at home, you hadn't anticipated running into anyone you knew. but of course, satoru gojo, the charismatic guy in your english class, was here too. 
you wouldn't say that the two of you were close – acquaintances was a better word. satoru and you knew of each other and were on friendly terms, but until now you had never really taken the time to talk alone.
but hey, just because you didn't know the guy that well didn't mean you were about to turn down a free study partner. especially one as attractive as satoru, although it was admittedly a bit distracting when you were trying to focus on your work.
it wasn't his fault – his long, white lashes were just naturally mesmerizing. and his eyes? breathtaking. even in the dim light of the library, his eyes shone like crystals. you didn't even want to start thinking about his hands, his jawline, and certainly not his body, otherwise you'd be studying something else the whole night – him and his stupidly attractive self.
after a ton of mental self-chiding, you finally manage to get your priorities straight and actually try to study, but what started as a study session gradually turned into a tutoring session when you two realized that one of you needed a lot more help than the other.
and to your dismay, that was you.
"you really thought molarity and molality were the same thing?" satoru scoffs, shamelessly grinning. "y'know, it's really a miracle you have an A in the class. you don't deserve it."
"shut up," you reply, knowing only too well that he was right. the only reason you were able to maintain a good grade in this stupid chemistry class was because the teacher offered a ridiculous amount of extra credit.
but unfortunately, you couldn't float on that boat for much longer. your grade was still slowly slipping, from a 95 to a 93 to what was now a flat 90, and your pride wouldn't let that number fall any further.
satoru laughs and shakes his head, running a hand through his white hair. "c'mon, at least tell me what molarity is."
"uhh, that's moles per liter, right?"
he nods and twirls a pen in between his fingers. "yeah, that's right. now what's molality?"
"how should i know? i don't pay attention in class," you groan, resting your head in your palm.
satoru rolls his eyes, and you take a moment to appreciate how gorgeous they are. they were a color somewhere in between cerulean and ocean blue, further enhanced by his long white lashes.
your admiration quickly fades to indignation when satoru clicks his tongue and starts rattling off some dictionary definition of molality.
"y'know, you'd know more if you weren't on your phone the whole time in class," he says dryly. 
you groan again and lean back in your chair. "it's just so boringgg," you whine, pushing the chemistry worksheet away. "forget it, i'll just guess on the test tomorrow. it usually works."
as you start to sweep your pencils and papers into your bag, satoru grabs your wrist and gets you to meet his ocean-blue eyes. "i'll feel bad if you do badly because i didn't help you enough."
his grip on your wrist is firm but gentle as he leans a millimeter closer. "let me help you, yeah?"
after a beat of silence, you nod and look away. his glacial eyes are piercing in the kind of way that makes you think he can see right through you, and you don't like the feeling of being readable.
"so, am i gonna have to force you to pay attention or will you do it yourself?"
the question catches you off guard. something about the way he asks it makes it very clear that it's a genuine question – either you can try and make yourself focus or he can make you.
you don't quite know what the latter means, but it sounds more fun, so that's what you pick.
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and that's how you ended up on his lap, hair wrapped around his fingers as he quizzed you from behind. 
satoru had somehow motivated you to actually try and study by rewarding you with a kiss for every question you got right. had the offer come from anyone else, you would've called them a creep, but satoru was attractive and he knew it. on top of that, he wasn't afraid to use his good looks to get what he wanted, which, in this case, was for you to do good on tomorrow's test.
"avogadro's number?"
"umm, 6.022 x 10 to the 23rd?"
satoru nods and kisses the side of your face, lips trailing over your jawline as his eyes flick back to where he'd scribbled a couple practice questions.
"how many bonds can hydrogen form?"
"one."
this time, his lips touch your neck, and it takes every ounce of self-restraint in your body to hold back the embarrassing sound you can feel at the bottom of your throat.
"last question, how many bonds can carbon form?"
this time, your voice comes out breathier than you expected. "four, right?"
"smart girl." 
and now, for the first time this night, he gives you a quick kiss on the lips. he doesn't linger and he doesn't give you any chance to savor the taste of his lips – one second his mouth is pressed to yours, the next it's moving with words you don't quite absorb.
he rifles through a couple papers and makes a face. "actually, my bad, there's more. not much," he quickly adds when he sees you groan. "just some stuff we didn't cover completely at the beginning."
"you're the worst."
"you'd fail without me."
"maybe, but at least i'd be happier."
despite your playful jabs, the truth that studying with satoru was a lot more bearable than studying by yourself, and it was also a lot easier to stay awake. before you knew it, two hours came and went, and you were practically an expert on everything that could possibly be on the test tomorrow.
and when you're finally able to confidently tell satoru the difference between molarity and molality, that's when he turns you around on his lap to face him and presses his lips to yours again, and this time, he doesn't pull away.
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"you're a quick learner, aren't you?" satoru mumbles against your lips. he pulls back for a second to get some air before grabbing your chin and leaning in for more. "yeah, i wonder what else i could teach you. you wanna find out, pretty?"
you're not entirely sure when the studying ended and the making out started, but you certianly do know when the making out ended. 
before you could reply to satoru's rather suggestive question, a message blared from the speakers around the library and interrupted whatever you two had going on.
" it is now closing time. all remaining students, please return to your residential places immediately."
satoru chuckles and nudges you off of his lap before standing up and stretching. "well, it's almost 3, we should get some rest." 
"yeah, that's probably smart."
"of course it is. i'm smart."
"yeah yeah," you mumble after a second when no better retort comes to mind. probably because he was telling the truth – satoru was smart, and he knew it. 
"well, i'll see you tomorrow," he says, sweeping the remainder of his stuff into his backpack before slinging it over his shoulder. "good luck on the test, you'll do great."
you smile and zip up your own backpack before heading towards the exit on the other side of the library, his words buzzing around your head and the memory of his mouth fresh on your lips the whole way home.
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"satoru, satoru! guess what i got on my test!"
after you made your way home from the library last night, you slept like a rock. barely a minute after you tiredly stumbled into your oh-so welcoming bed, you were out. 
despite only getting around five or six hours of sleep, you felt pretty damn good the next morning as you sat down to take your chemistry exam. and that good feeling stayed with you the whole test, and when you finished, you were able to confidently set your paper on your teacher's desk.
well, as confidently as anyone could set a piece of paper down anyways.
but now it was lunchtime, and a soft chiming sound from your phone signaled that the test was score and put into your grade. your hands shook slightly as you tapped the notification, but to your delight, a 97 lit up your screen.
and of course, who else could you credit with this besides satoru? so you walked over to where you'd seen him hang around during lunch and called out his name, but you really hadn't anticipated company.
"ah, satoru, who's this?" the dark-haired boy beside satoru asked, voice light with interest. "have you been seeing someone and not telling me about it?"
satoru laughs and shoves the guy's shoulder before turning to you and grinning. "sorry 'bout him. yeah, what was your score?"
he has a lollipop in his mouth, and as he raises an eyebrow at you, you feel yourself grin as you proudly say "a ninety seven! my grade went up to the mid-ninties, too!"
"smart girl. knew you could do it," satoru says, a lopsided smile spreading across his face.
"it's only 'cause of you," you say, a bit sheepishly. "without your help, i wouldn't've been able to do that."
satoru exhales a laugh and reaches out to ruffle your hair. he looks like he's about to say something before the other guy clears his throat.
"sorry to interrupt your... moment, but the lunch line is starting to grow and my patience is starting to shrink. satoru, you coming?" 
"yeah, give me a sec, suguru." 
satoru looks back down at you, sunglasses resting on the tip of his nose and cerulean eyes flashing in the sunlight. "looks like i gotta go."
you nod and wave him off. "yeah, i'll see you around, i guess. thanks so much for the help, really. i owe you one."
satoru grins and pulls the lollipop out of his mouth. still looking at you intently, he runs his tongue over the lollipop one last time before sticking in your mouth.
"you wanna pay me back for tutoring you last night?" satoru asks, smirking at the surprised look on your face. "drop by my place tonight. i'll teach you something else this time."
he leans in and gives you a quick, sugary kiss before turning away and walking in the direction geto left in, leaving you with nothing but a tingling sensation in your lips and a promise to see you soon.
satoru laughs to himself as he walks away, waving one hand back at you without bothering to turn around. when he catches up to suguru, the latter notices the wide smirk satoru dons and asks about it.
"oh, it's nothing. just looking forward to tonight."
you were, too.
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a/n: if i wrote smut i'd write a pt 2 to this. maybe one day idk
i'm probably going to get back to writing some more angst after i finish the last of my requests. i miss writing fics that make people cry /hj
if you haven't already, check out some of my other jjk fics in my masterlist (below!)
anyways thank u vvv much for reading, reblogs are always very appreciated 💞
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maidragoste · 7 months
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The Parent Trap: Chapter Two
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Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader x Aemond Targaryen
Summary: After the disastrous divorce between Aemond Targaryen and Y/n Velaryon the twins Baelon and Aemon were separated. Each was raised by one of their parents. Baelon was raised by his father while Aemon was raised by his mother. Years later they both meet at a summer camp and discover the existence of the other. The twins realize that there are many secrets in their family, eager to discover their past, they put together a plan to deceive their parents.
Masterlist
Thank you for your support, I was nervous that people wouldn't like it because the fic wasn't the same as the movie so I'm very happy to read all your comments. REBLOGS, comments and likes are always appreciated 🥰🥰💕💕💕
Btw, I made two playlists for this fic. One is from Aemond and the Reader and another is from Reader and Aegon. As I keep writing I'll probably add more songs or even delete some, who knows. If you have songs for me to add or are curious to know why, you are welcome to write to me in my inbox.
Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.
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Ten years earlier
Your leg kept moving up and down. Your eyes are constantly directed to the door, expecting that at any moment Aemond would return home. You tried to distract yourself by watching TV but you were too anxious. Your mind couldn't focus on the stupid movie because all you could think about was the positive sign on the pregnancy tests you had taken that afternoon with Rhaena and Jace by your side. You regretted telling them to leave. If they were with you they would be preventing you from locking yourself in your own mind. They would make you tell them your fears and they would try to calm you down. The three of them would be making plans. You might even be practicing with Jace how the hell tell Aemond they were going to be parents.
You and Aemond would be parents. You would be a mother. You always knew you would have children, you wanted the happily ever after with the wedding and children like they always showed in the movies, but now you are terrified. It wasn't supposed to be like this. You're barely twenty-three years old, you haven't even finished your second year of editorial editing. It was assumed that when you had children you would be at least over twenty-seven, your career—a career you were truly passionate about—would be finished, you would have a good job, and you would be married. You tried to console yourself by telling yourself that at least you're in a stable relationship. You and Aemond have been dating for three years. You two knew each other since you were little because your godmother is Aemond's older sister and then you ended up attending the same school so you spent a lot of time together. You still remember like it was yesterday how nervous you were when you first kissed Aemond during New Year's. You were afraid of ruining your friendship and that things would become awkward but he didn't pull away when you kissed him he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer to him. That night they hid from everyone and spent the rest of the celebration kissing. The next day they started dating. From there everything was wonderful. Like any couple, you and Aemond have your run-ins—like when you argued because you didn't like the way he behaved with Jace, your best friend, or when Aemond got mad at you because you made the two of you leave the restaurant you were having a date at. to pick up a drunk Aegon in a bar again—but there was definitely more joy than displeasure in your relationship with Aemond. You saw yourself having a future with him, you could see yourself perfectly next to him in your white dress. You can imagine Aemond putting a baby to sleep while he lulls it to sleep in High Valyrian. Are you sure you want a future with Aemond. But you're terrified of his reaction to this unexpected news. What would you do if Aemond didn't want to keep the baby? You would have to break up with him. Even though you were scared, you knew you wanted to keep the baby. That was clear to you.
You heard the door open and it didn't take long for your boyfriend to enter. You got up from the couch and went to hug him. Whenever he returned home you welcomed him with a hug and kisses. This time you held on to him longer than usual, wanting to remember the feeling of Aemond's arms around you in case this was the last time.
You were about to kiss him but he turned your face away from him making your heart skip a beat. Before you could move away he gently grabbed your chin and studied you carefully. Of course, he had realized something was happening to you when you were clinging so fiercely to him.
“What's wrong?” he asked. Aemond first wanted to know what was happening to you before you kissed him.
Once again you regretted kicking Rhaena and Jace out. At least you should have taken advantage of this time alone to practice in front of the mirror how to tell your boyfriend that you are pregnant. Or you could have called your parents to help you. Although knowing them they would tell you to keep the secret so that the three of them could plan a big announcement together. But you couldn't wait, you need to know now what Aemond was thinking. You needed to know whether or not he would be with you on this trip.
“Y/n?” Your boyfriend called you, feeling his concern growing with every second that you remained silent.
“I think I'm pregnant” You closed your eyes feeling frustrated with yourself and hurried to correct yourself “I mean, I'm pregnant” You tried not to panic as you felt him move away from you “I haven't had any blood tests done yet but I'm One hundred percent sure I'm pregnant. I took five pregnancy tests and they all came back positive.”Your nerves were evident because you were talking faster than normal and you couldn't stop gesturing with your hands.
Aemond felt as if someone had thrown a bucket of cold water on him. This was not in his plans. Right now he was focused on opening his own publishing house, he needed to focus all of his attention on that, he didn't need a distraction and a baby would be that. Taking care of a child would take up too much time. But I couldn't tell you that. I'd be an idiot if I told you that. His mother didn't raise him to be an idiot.
“Marry me,” he said, knowing it was the right thing to do. Besides, ever since you two moved in together, he knew you were going to get married. He knows that he wants to spend the rest of his life waking up next to you, he wants your face to be the first and last thing he sees, he wants to come home and always be greeted with your kisses, he wants you to tell him about your day while the two of you have dinner, He wants to hear your theories about the TV shows you watch together. Aemond wants everything with you, even the most mundane things like going grocery shopping or walking the dogs. He loves you. The only reasons Aemond hadn't proposed to you already was because he wanted to wait until you finished college and he wanted his publishing company to be established. Planning a wedding was a big deal and you two didn't have time for that. But now it didn't matter anymore. “Marry me,” he said again with a smile as he saw how you opened your eyes and looked at him as if he were giving you the moon.
You couldn't help but laugh at yourself, feeling like an idiot for doubting Aemond. Maybe it wasn't the romantic proposal you had dreamed of but you didn't care. You were so relieved and so glad you didn't have to do this alone.
“Yes,” you responded with your heart racing and tears in your eyes. “Yes!” you repeated louder this time before throwing yourself into your fiancé's arms. You began to laugh as Aemond picked you up and spun you around. Your fears were forgotten. The only thing you felt at that moment was happiness.
Present
Aemon found it strange that when he arrived at camp Rickon was not waiting for him at the entrance like the previous years. He assumed this time that the trip had tired him too much and he went to take a nap in his cabin. So he decided to go there first instead of searching for him throughout the rest of the camp. If Rickon wasn't there at least he would leave his suitcases so he could walk comfortably.
When he entered the cabin he expected to find it empty or his best friend sleeping. He never imagined that an almost exact copy of him would be found walking back and forth all over the place. Aemon is not proud but his first reaction is to scream and throw his suitcase at him with all his might.
“Dude, what the hell?!” his copy shouted, barely managing to cum in time to avoid being hit.
“What happened?!” Rickon asked, also screaming, running out of the bathroom. “Aemon you finally arrived!” He ran to hug him.
Aemon barely moved his arms to hug Rickon but his eyes did not leave the other boy who was too similar to him. The copy of him didn't stop looking at him either, the two of them were studying each other. The only difference is that the stranger had much shorter hair than Aemon and did not have tanned skin like him. But Aemon knew that if he hadn't been sailing in the sun with his grandparents just a few days ago then he would look just like the copy of him.
"Who is he?" Aemon asked breaking the hug, no longer able to stand his curiosity. If he had encountered the copy of him years ago he would have thought that it was some kind of prank by Rickon or that maybe it was an evil clone but now he knew that it didn't make sense. The only logical explanation he could think of was that he had a missing twin but that didn't make sense because his mom would never hide something as big as this from him.
“Aemon do you need glasses? It's obvious that he's a copy of you," said the dark-haired boy, earning an angry look from the other two boys. “Don't do that, it's weird,” he complained.
“I am not Aemon's copy. In any case, he is my copy,” declared the short-haired boy.
“I met Aemon before so you are a copy of him.”
“Wait, why does he know my name?” Aemon interrupted before the other two continued fighting over who the copy was. He needed to know what was going on before he gave him a headache. Although since he saw the stranger he began to feel bad. It was disconcerting to see someone just like himself. He made him feel uncomfortable. Not even Joffrey looked that much like him, and she was his brother.
Aemon wanted to know who this boy was, why he looked so much like him, and why this was the first time he had met him. But at the same time, he was afraid. He could already sense that his life would be different after this camp. He decided to sit on the nearest bed to avoid running out and ask one of the caregivers for his cell phone to call his parents to come back to look for him. Maybe he should have let Mom walk him to the cabin like she wanted.
“Your friend thought I was you, he came up shouting your name when I was with my uncle Daeron. My uncle said that he knew you and that I should stay with Rickon until you showed up. Now I see why he insisted so much."
Aemon was sure he had heard Daeron's name before but he was sure he had never met him. Without realizing it he began to move his leg up and down trying to remember that he knew about Daeron but nothing came to mind.
“I am Baelon Targaryen,” the boy introduced himself, looking at him with concern and Aemon squeezed his leg to prevent himself from moving it further. “I think I'm your twin.”
“No,” the long-haired boy denied instantly.
“Dude, we're literally copies of each other!” Baelon said, frustration evident in his voice, pointing at Aemon and then at himself.
Rickon gave Baelon a look telling him to shut up. In the few hours that he had known him, Baelon had never seen Rickon so serious, so he crossed his arms indignantly and watched silently and attentively as Stark sat next to his twin.
“I know it seems crazy, Aemon, but I really think Baelon is right,” said the dark-haired boy, looking at his friend with concern. Rickon wouldn't know how to react either if he suddenly found out that he had a twin. “The two are copies of each other. Besides, he grew up without knowing his mom and you grew up without knowing your dad. I don't think it's a coincidence. Just like I don't think it's a coincidence that Baelon's uncle knew you."
Aemon looked at his best friend before turning his attention to his possible new brother. “When were you born?”
"June 20th. I guess just like you," said Baelon, and was satisfied when he saw that his twin nodded. "I have a photo of Mom!" He suddenly remembered the photo that he had stolen from Dad a long time ago and that he had hidden in his luggage. “You can see her and confirm that she is our mom,” he said excitedly, thinking that this way Aemon could no longer deny his relationship. He couldn't help but be excited at the thought that he was no longer alone, he had a brother. He had always seen how close his uncle Daeron was to his dad and his other uncles and he remembered wanting to have the same.
Baelon ran to grab his suitcase and began to take out all of his clothes, not caring about the mess, until he found the latest Boku no Hero manga that he was reading and triumphantly pulled out one of the pages the photo of her mother with him in her arms while she kissed his cheek, her eyes were only on him, not caring to look at the camera.
“Look,” he said, handing the photo proudly to Aemon. The photo wasn't complete, it was obvious that someone had cut it in half but Baelon didn't care. That photo was one of his most prized possessions. He looked at her every day before going to sleep because he reminded him that his mom loves him.
“Oh, shit,” Aemon muttered before handing the photo back to him.
“It's her, right?” Baelon asked, watching with anticipation as it was now Aemon who was searching for something in his suitcase. Aemon, unlike him, was not throwing his clothes everywhere. He felt his heart race when he saw how his twin took out a notebook and took something out of it.
“Is this your dad?” Aemon asked, giving him a photo. Baelon nodded several times, unable to say anything out of emotion. His dad wasn't looking at the camera but he wasn't looking at the baby he was holding either. He just looked to the side with a smile.
Baelon took both photos and placed them side by side on the bed. The photo was now complete. Dad was looking at Mom. If Baelon hadn't been so engrossed in looking at the photo then he would have noticed Aemon and Rickon exchanging glances.
“I told you we're twins!” Baelon said with a big smile once he snapped out of the shock of nudging Aemon.
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kazumist · 10 months
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WHEN YOU IGNORE HIM AS A PRANK .ᐟ
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✩ — includes: various x gn!reader. fluff. no cws. wc: 833. reblogs and feedback are very much appreciated !! i don't support this type of prank in any sort of way so pls don't think this is actually funny irl ;;
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the one who panics and worries — !
thoma, diluc, zhongli, xiao, and cyno
he has no idea if he did anything wrong. did he do something to offend you? did he forget something you told him? there’s no clue. all of a sudden, you just started to act like he didn’t exist—as if you were total strangers, even!
thoma would pace around the room, his hand on his chin, and he would think of reasons why you should ignore him. there has to be a reason, right? it isn’t like you to just act like that. your relationship was fine when this happened, too! what could possibly be the answer? no matter how long he thinks, thoma will never get an answer to his problem. maybe kissing the pout on his lips away would help him forgive you for all of this?
diluc is confused. very confused, in fact. were you not up for any interactions? but he sees you conversing casually with sara from good hunter. that couldn’t be it. but diluc is… just very confused. he’d question what was happening, trying to piece your recent behavior together with the one you have now.
zhongli sighs at the thought of this situation with you. if you simply wanted a break from a relationship or if you had a problem with him, you could’ve just told him. his gaze lands on you as you talk ever so casually to hu tao, wondering if you still even remember that he too is in the same area as you. please console this man with kisses when the prank is over, he'll need it.
xiao is worried. he knows that he’s still trying to understand human emotions, but he didn’t know that you’d act like this. you chat with verr goldet like you usually do, but he doesn’t hear you asking for his whereabouts like he usually does. it makes him sad. were you getting tired of him? did you perhaps decide to leave so soon? but you would say that to him if you really felt that way. do reassure him that it was nothing and simply for fun (and that you'll never do it again, seeing as he was very worried).
although cyno was known for his jokes (to the people with whom he usually interacts, at least), he sadly did not get the idea that you were just pranking him. he gets a bit anxious, wondering if you were mad at him because of all of his corny jokes, which was a stupid reason, but it was still possible! he sighs helplessly when you tell him it's a joke and suddenly thinks, why didn't he think of that possibility?
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the one who knows but plays along — !
kaeya, kazuha, childe, albedo, and alhaitham
he was quick to realize that this was all a prank, but would it be that bad to play along? he’s sure it wouldn't; any time spent with you is already worth it for him anyway. what’s so different about playing a prank?
kaeya stares at you as he looks at how you’re having fun talking to venti. you know he’s looking at you, and venti knows it too; he was in on the plan after all. but you don’t know if kaeya’s stare held jealousy, if it held hurt, or if it was just an overall blank stare. he'll get his revenge later, once he can finally have some alone time with you.
kazuha smiles at your prank; he had a feeling it was a joke. you are usually the one who approaches him, and he knows that you are never the one who’ll just leave him immediately. he sighs at you and plays along with your little prank. maybe your reaction to him knowing from the start would be more interesting than this whole thing.
childe was confused at first, but he soon noticed that it was a prank. you talked with zhongli over a cup of tea at a nearby table. he thinks of a way to get back, but honestly? just being really clingy to you will already make you regret this whole situation.
albedo is used to pranks and the like. but he certainly didn’t expect it coming from you. however, overhearing kaeya and klee talking about your prank in the headquarters of the knights of favonius, he sighed. he shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but he heard your name, and just by that, he was already invested in the conversation. but he wouldn’t want to see you so disappointed because your prank failed, so he ponders for a moment—it wouldn’t be so bad to play along in your prank for him a bit, no?
two can play that game for alhaitham. he ignores your presence as well, but he also observes your reactions to his actions while he's at it. but by the end of the day, he confronts you about it and gives you a small yet satisfied smirk when you admit that you were pranking him.
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