Hey there, Flabbergasted Anon here I just read your reply and I wanted to clear some things up
First of all I was trying to say things in a joking/overly dramatic tone (kinda like the you kick miette meme)
Second of all on my device when you click on next work it kinda jumps you down below the tags and straight into the story and I just assumed that the title was referring to lisanna and read on
Third of all when I did finally finish the story I was immediately called away by someone else so while I did read the note at the end of the chapter (I think I honestly can’t remember) I didn't really process it
All in all I will keep reading the story because I am invested in it now so I hope you keep up the good work
Hi!!! Okay!!!! It was a misunderstanding!! Good!!! Excellent!!! :D
I really wasn't sure one way or the other, but sometimes it's hard when it's text, heheh. Twas I who overreacted in the end. (Should I have read that when I wasn't super tired, perhaps I would have recognized the meme language for what it was, heheh.... MY BAD. In hindsight, I completely see the kick-miette kind of thing going on there. So very sorry.)
Ah, anyways, glad you're enjoying the series despite my little mean streak there! (I reaaaalllly wanted to prod at Mira, circa Demon Tales, heheheh....) Thank you so much for clearing that up anon! Hope to see you around! :D
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lens of ice | yjh | one
pairing: jeonghan x f!reader
genre: figure skater jeonghan, light angst, a little fluff, smut in the next part
word count: 12k
summary: jeonghan has only one chance left to make it to the olympics. as he embarks on this decisive journey, you, a documentarist, are set to follow him as he seeks the ultimate glory.
warnings: jeonghan is kind of reckless with his body
a/n: i've been writing this one for so long now and though it's not finished yet, i decided to post half of it, as a way to motivate myself to finish it. i really wanna thank @ressonancee first for giving me idea and second for helping me through all of this and putting up my crazy ass mind 💓
part one | part two (final)
The light buzzing of the fluorescent lights made him uncomfortable, it was like a premonition of what was to come. Something bad, he was sure.
Jeonghan was many things in his life, stubborn perhaps being the most obvious one, but dumb wasn't one then. He knew that his ankle was fucked up, that he was probably the cause of it. Too many hours of training, never giving himself enough time to heal before he got the ice again. He didn't know exactly how bad it was, that was for the doctor in front of him to say, but Jeonghan knew that nothing good would come out of the man's mouth.
"It's worse than I thought," the man said with a sigh, taking off his glasses "It's not just your ankle anymore, it's also your knee. And, I could be wrong, but considering the way you're walking, I'd say that you're right ankle also started to bother you"
Jeonghan hung his head. He was an athlete and he knew that he was being reckless, beyond actually. He should have gone to his coach the second he felt a sharp pain in his ankle. But he just went home, took an ice bath, and kept the whole thing to himself. Even on the following days, when the pain didn't go away at all, he still chose to keep his mouth shut and go to practice every day. And his coach, unaware of his condition, kept pushing him during practice.
Not that he needed anyone to be harsh on him, Jeonghan did all of that on his own. But having someone else do that for him as well brought out a different desire for perfection. One that came from a dark place to show someone else that he was good, to prove people wrong.
"Can I still compete?" was all he asked, it was the only thing that mattered to him "Can I make it to the Olympics? It's the last one for me, after this I retire"
The look on the doctor's face wasn't reassuring, Jeonghan knew that his next words wouldn't be the ones he wanted. He wasn't about to hear what he needed.
"If, and only if, you have surgery, take physical therapy seriously, and rest as we instruct you, there might be a possibility. Small, but it exists"
"When can I have the surgery?"
You stared at your computer screen, a hand on your forehead as you read the email your boss sent you. You sat at your desk, not really knowing what to do.
"Seungkwan!" you called without looking up "Did you get this email too?"
Just to make sure that you weren't crazy, you read it once again. The third time in less than five minutes. No matter how many times you read it, it didn't change.
"Yeah. I'm excited but scared…"
That was enough to get your attention.
"Why?"
Closing your laptop, you stood up moving closer to Seungkwan. Unlike you, who read the email many times, Seungkwan had already started his research. Not that he really needed to, everyone at the office knew that he was a huge fan of figure skating. So of course he would know all about Yoon Jeonghan.
The nation's pride and joy in figure skating, at least in the make category.
"Why scared? I thought everyone loved him"
It was impossible to look away from the picture Seungkwan had open on his computer. Jeonghan's face really was something else, as if he had been carved in marble by some ancient Greek artist. From his dark hair covering his eyes, giving him almost a mysterious vibe, to the way his lips were slightly crooked into a smile. You had to give it to him, the man was absolutely stunning. No wonder he left a trail of fans everywhere he went.
"He isn't the biggest enthusiast when it comes to the press. He barely gives interviews so I guess doing a documentary about him won't be easy"
Seungkwan kept scrolling, reading the latest news on Jeonghan. But the truth was that there wasn't any. His social media was also rarely updated, the last post was from months before.
"Well, good luck to you"
"What do you mean? You're the one in charge"
You just shook your head. The problem was Jeonghan honestly, you barely knew anything about him, though Seungkwan's words didn't help the case. The thing was that you barely knew anything at all about sports, in general, much less about figure skating. Lack of knowledge was an easy fix. The real issue was the fact that a documentary on a sport was way too different from what you usually did.
"I'm not doing this one. I have other projects I want to work on. Plus, this is too sudden. They want us to start tomorrow, Seungkwan. Do you really think that it's possible to have anything done by tomorrow?" he shook his head and you nodded in agreement "Precisely, so I'm sure that if we talk with Jihoon…"
"Nothing will change"
A curse left your lips at the sudden voice behind you. Turning around you faced the small man. Jihoon had his arms crossed over his chest and the look in his eyes that told you that no matter what he wouldn't let you off the hook. Still, you had to try.
"Jihoon, I'm not your sports person. And it's too soon. I don't anything about Jeonghan or figure skating"
Jihoon simply shook his head at you.
"They want a different approach than the average sports documentary, so I recommended you. I'm sending Seungkwan with you because I know this isn't your area of expertise, though I highly suggest you do some sort of research" he turned around to leave with a wave of his hand then turned around for a second, as if remembering something "Hansol will be your camera and sound guy. They asked for a small crew"
With a salute Jihoon left.
"Fuck"
You couldn't take your eyes away from the crutches under Jeonghan's arms and the orthopedic boot around his left leg. There was not a single article that pointed to surgery. There were plenty about his constant injuries though. Seungkwan had the same look on his face, of pure shock.
"Are you okay?" you asked once he made himself comfortable on the couch.
Jeonghan sat sideways on the couch, his leg propped up over cushions. The position looked weird but he didn't seem to mind.
"Ah, this" he pointed at his leg nonchalantly, as if it was the most normal thing "Yeah, it's okay. Had to get the surgery done in order to make it to the next Olympic"
Nodding, you looked around. His apartment wasn't as big as you had expected. In fact, the three of you stood closely together in the living room, a bit too small for all the gear Hansol said he needed.
"Put your things down, let's talk. I don't know how this is going to work"
Me neither, you wanted to say but kept your mouth shut. Thankfully, Seungkwan was there to help you.
"Before we start any real interview or conversation, I think we have to tell you that this was very last minute for us. We only heard about this documentary yesterday, in the middle of the afternoon" he used his kindest voice, his voice laced with concern and a hit of fear, maybe "yn is in charge, she's the documentarist, she'll be asking the questions and dictating the overall direction that we're going to take with the documentary. I'm Seungkwan and that's Hansol. This is the smallest crew he could assemble"
Seungkwan was giving too many explanations, you felt. But he also wasn't wrong. What he did was normal, he was just introducing the crew. Maybe you were a little irritated by the way you were tossed into this job, without someone giving you enough time to prepare. Sixteen hours were barely enough.
"I assume my… reputation has gotten to you," Jeonghan said, a small smile on his lips.
A reputation he had indeed. Jeonghan was known for not liking the press and journalists. He avoided them at all costs and once, on one occasion, was seen being rude. And honestly, you had to give him a pass for it. Pushing the camera away from his face, almost delicately, could barely be considered rude at such a moment. There were way too many cameras around, all of them on his face, trying to get some sort of pronouncement on why he had not made it to the podium.
And that had been years before but people still remembered him by that one moment. But what exactly did they expect? He underperformed, came in fourth place, and injured himself in the process. Was anyone expecting a happy and bright Jeonghan?
"You can be comfortable around me. A conversation like this is fine. I just don't like being swarmed"
Though his words were inviting, his face told a whole different story. He clearly didn't want this documentary.
"All of our interactions will be recorded," you told him, not leaving room for arguments on his end "These first few minutes aren't, out of courtesy and so that we can set our goals. I need to know if you're uncomfortable with anything, or something that you don't want to be filmed, either right now or before we turn the cameras on. Once we start, we won't stop"
Jeonghan adjusted his position on the couch, his eyes never leaving you. It was like he was measuring your every move. He didn't like your tone, and how aggressive you were towards him.
"I know this was last minute and I apologize for that. This is going to be my last run and, as much as I hate to admit, I'm a bit sensitive to it.
With furrowed eyebrows, you nodded. Jeonghan knew that you didn't believe him or that you cared about his reasons. He knew that the sole reason you were there was because someone made you.
"Will you need to film my family?"
"Yes, usually film family members to get a complete idea of someone's life"
Turning around you nodded at Hansol, telling him to start setting up. With a shake of his head, Seungkwan moved to help him.
"I don't want my family to know the extent of my injuries. So if you only want them for context, to know about me as a child, that's fine. But they can't know anything about this" Jeonghan pointed at his leg "I've been hiding this for a very long time and I'd like to keep it that way"
You dropped your bag on the couch, eyes tired and mind filled with one too many thoughts. The day had been easier than you expected, far more so.
Based on Seungkwan's words you had expected to fight with Jeonghan in a way. It was a documentary so you needed him to talk and talk he did. There was no question unanswered or dodged, all of his answers were precise and consistent. All of it had sounded fake like he had rehearsed them a million times.
Even if you thought that your question had been good, and had caught him off guard, Jeonghan seemed to be fully prepared for it. He didn't hesitate for a second.
In the few hours you spent around him, you finally managed to understand the fascination most people had with him. He was handsome, yes, but that was just the very basic and surface level of him. Beyonce that he was also good with his words. It was hard to tell that he was lying because he talked with conviction. After just one interview you were sure that if one day Jeonghan decided to tell you that your mom wasn’t actually your mother, you’d somehow believe him.
And the man knew all of it. He was aware of his beauty and charm, of what it did to normal people, and he used it in his favor. Jeonghan knew that most people couldn’t resist a handsome talented man. And that was a part he was all too willing to fill.
“Yeah,” you answered your phone, not bothering to see who it was, certain that it was just Jihoon.
“How was it today?” he sounded just as tired as you felt and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was okay.
“Fine”
“Just fine?”
You turned on your back, facing the ceiling, or at least whatever you could see with the lights turned off - not a whole lot, to be honest.
“He lied through his teeth today. There was no manager, and no coach around, though I do remember him saying someone would come. The person never showed up” you sighed “Seungkwan hates and Vernon probably thinks I’m a crazy bitch. So yeah, just fine”
Jihoon laughed on the other side of the line and you felt the little butterflies in your stomach come to life. You rolled your eyes at yourself. How pathetic it was of you, to have a crush on your boss. How very much bland of you.
Growing up, like a lot of girls that were influenced by way too much TV, you had wanted the be the odd one out. The I’m one of the guys kind of girl, or the one who refused to wear any kind of makeup or even come close to the pink because that was just girly for you. And now there you were, in love with the color pink, finding excuses to wear pretty dresses, and having a crush on your boss.
Teenage you would throw eggs at your head if she had the chance.
“Okay, but how was Jeonghan?” Jihoon pressed even further.
You sighed and closed your eyes, covering over face with your hand.
“He was polite, answered all of my questions, had a pleasant smile the entire time, and only asked for a bathroom break while we were there. Offered us food and drinks. He was fine” you said again, emphasizing the fine.
You could picture Jihoon, nodding his head and looking at the floor, probably thinking of what to ask next.
“Why would Seungkwan hate you? And why would Vernon think you’re a bitch?”
“Seungkwan thinks I went too hard on Jeonghan and Vernon just trusts Seungkwan’s judgment and goes with it”
Jihoon laughed again and you heard him moving around.
“Classic yn, going at someone while she’s angry. At least your anger was sort of directed to the right person”
“What is that supposed to mean?” you sat up.
You liked to think that you didn’t act that way all the time. In your mind, most of the time, you were able to hide your anger and just play nice like your mother had taught you to be. Jihoon’s words told a completely different story.
“Have some rest, there’s still a lot of work to do. Tomorrow you’re going with him to rehab, right?” Jihoon paused for a second and you heard a female voice in the back, you couldn’t make out what she said but you were sure of who it belonged to “I have to go. We’ll talk next week”
The line was disconnected and leaned back on the couch again. The problem of having a crush on your boss was also the fact that he had a long-time girlfriend and soon he was supposed to be marrying her.
You groaned, wondering if you had gone far enough that there was no going back from this crush.
You sat across from Jeonghan once again, the position exactly the same as the first day. But this time you chose to be less irritable.
The other day you were frustrated because you had to give up other projects to be able to accompany Jeonghan and that, thinking rationally, had nothing to do with him. He asked for a specific documentary filmmaker profile and you were chosen by the studio. Maybe it was more your fault than his. But it was also a no-return kind of situation. The job was assigned to you and there was nothing you could do to change it. So the least you could do was do your best and pray that it didn’t take a turn for the worse.
And, if anything, the conversation with Jihoon helped you focus on work. It wouldn't be the first time you were doing something you didn't want to do and it certainly wouldn't be the last. So you decided that the best thing to do was just work, showing your professional side that had been left aside before.
Jeonghan looked at you the same way, eyes serious as if he was ready for a new attack.
"Thank you," he said to Vernon, who had just placed the microphone inside his jacket, so that he could pick up the sound well, but it was not visible to the camera.
You turned to Seungkwan and Vernon, waiting for confirmation from the two that you could begin. You received a wave from each of them after they checked that the cameras were on and recording.
You took a deep breath and turned to Jeonghan.
"I wanted to apologize for yesterday," you said "I wasn't fair to you. I was irritated by things that had nothing to do with you, but I somehow decided that they did"
Everyone in Jeonghan's living room seemed to hold their breath, you included. You didn't know what to expect from Jeonghan, not really. You had been anything but ungracious with him, in a way that to most people meant that any door between you two had closed.
Jeonghan decided, at that moment, that he had two options: a) he could let the previous day dictate how all interactions between the two of you from then on would be, and it would be many months of a bad relationship that would bring no benefit to anyone involved in it; or b) he could accept your apology, which seemed sincere enough, and let go of the discomfort he felt.
Option b was actually the only possible choice.
“Okay” he finally smiled “my reputation isn’t the best, either way”
Seungkwan and Vernon breathed a sigh of relief. It was as if a huge gray cloud had moved away and the weather was beginning to clear.
“No, your reputation had no influence. I was the one who lost my hand because of my problems and for that, I apologize” you said and you were sincere in your words “But Jeonghan, I need you to stop seeing me as your enemy. I need you to be honest with me.”
You hoped Jeonghan could understand what you were saying.
“You think I wasn’t honest?” he tilted his head as if analyzing you.
“In the same way that you don't want your reputation to affect the way I see you, I need you to not let the way you see other journalists affect the way you see me. I want to tell your story, however you want it told, but I need you to be honest with me.”
You hoped Jeonghan could understand what you were saying.
He was silent for a minute, his eyes fixed on his hands. His hair covered his face, so it was hard to get an idea of what was going through his head.
You looked at Seungkwan, seeking confirmation that you hadn’t been rude. He seemed to be as lost as you were, but the small smile he gave you was enough to make your restless heart rest for a second.
“What if I say something and regret it later?”
It was the first time Jeonghan looked insecure and it was a strange sight, but much more realistic than the other version of him.
“We can edit it, it’s not a problem. I said that because I was angry” you said apologetically once again.
“Can we throw it all away and start again?”
Jeonghan smiled and you had no choice but to smile along with him.
“Let’s start with what’s happening now,” you said, folding your legs under your body, notebook open to a blank page and a pen ready to take notes “You underwent surgery not long ago, right? Why?"
Jeonghan took a deep breath, eyes closed for a second before placing all his attention on you. His gaze was almost too intense. You had to force yourself not to look anywhere but at him.
“A few years ago I fell during training and twisted my ankle. At the time, it wasn't a big deal and if I had stayed quiet for a few weeks, and did everything right, I wouldn't have had any problems. But I couldn't do it, I was preparing for a competition. I didn't tell anyone about the problem and just endured the pain. When I participated in the competition I fell again and that only made the situation worse. Today I have a problem with my ligament and tendon.”
With every word that left his mouth, you felt like a lump was forming in your throat, and with every second it was getting bigger.
Unlike the day before, it didn't seem like Jeonghan was lying, but you didn't know if you wanted the truth he was sharing. Even if it was a lie, a character he had created, the version of Jeonghan from before was a little brighter, a little more present in the moment. The version of him that was in front of you, that you imagined to be the closest to reality, was almost sad, detached from everything.
“Because I forced my right knee a lot, trying to compensate for the lack of my left one, I developed a problem with that one too”
“You’ve never talked about your injuries before, right?” he nodded “Why talk now?”
He was silent again, his lower lip caught between his teeth. That was a great question, one that not even Jeonghan himself knew exactly how to answer.
“I'm not sure, to be honest” he laughed a little. Instead of looking directly at the camera, his eyes were focused on you “Someone came up with the idea at some point and it didn't seem like a bad one, but I think it will only work if I make it to the Olympics.”
“Is that the ultimate goal then, to get to the Olympics?”
He shook his head, that fearless, confident look you had only seen in photos finally making itself known.
“No, the ultimate goal is to win”
As promised, Jeonghan waited for you, Seungkwan, and Vernon outside the clinic. He was nowhere to be seen, really, but the car his assistant informed you of was parked right in front of the door.
You were the first one to exit your own car, while Seungkwan and Vernon prepared the camera to follow along. You could only assume he was the manager. Terribly young for a manager, sure, but a manager nonetheless.
“I assume you’re in” he extended a hand to you “I’m Joshua”
“Hi”
The exchange of words with Joshua was quick, no more than half a dozen. You didn't have much to talk about with him and he wasn't your priority, at least not at the moment. Later, at some other time, talking to him would be great. He had introduced himself as a friend/manager of Jeonghan. Having his point of view would be great and could contribute a lot, but your eyes couldn't leave Jeonghan.
His hair was tied back, but a cap covered much of his face. He had barely said hi to you or the other two. It wasn't a big surprise. While it was true that made up to a certain extent, you didn't expect him to simply welcome you with open arms, but his reaction was strange - or as strange as the reaction of a person you knew little, or nothing, could be.
“Can we film it?” You asked.
Jeonghan stopped and turned towards you. He had forgotten that you and your team would attend his first physical therapy session, but it seemed like the right thing to do.
Since the last time you saw each other, Jeonghan spent hours on end watching documentaries made by you and they all had one thing in common: they were almost like video logs. You followed everyone around documenting every tiny aspect of their lives. All those people told their stories and didn't seem afraid of having their lives exposed. And perhaps for people who didn't lead lives where they had been exposed too much, sincerity came easily.
For Jeonghan, that was never the case.
Being treated as the future, a promise of the sport, had brought a lot of harm and situations that neither he, nor anyone else, had the option to deal with or even, perhaps, ignore.
Cameras were pointed at him, rumors spread and suddenly he wasn't just Yoon Jeonghan, the boy who started skating because it would annoy his little sister. He became someone from whom people expected something.
As much as he could, Jeonghan tried to live up to all of those expectations, realistic or not. He tried to be as perfect as possible, on the ice and off of it. And it only took one day of silence, a few rude unanswered questions, and one bad performance — which had no real effect — for everything to collapse.
“You said you would film anything and everything.”
You grimaced, clearly regretful and maybe even a little embarrassed. It wasn't his intention, but he found your reaction funny anyway.
In your place, Jeonghan would have done much worse.
“Do you think it’s important?”
You nodded, perhaps more forcefully than necessary. Jeonghan laughed, he wanted to hold your head to make sure it was still in the right place.
“The documentary is about your return, so filming you here is important. I asked because it's your first session. I heard it can be painful.”
“It will probably be uncomfortable” he couldn’t deny that “Let’s do it like this, you can record it, if in the end you think it’s bad or that it doesn’t fit, we won’t use it
You quietly followed Jeonghan and Joshua out of the clinic, Seungkwan and Vernon trailing behind you talking in hushed tones. It was no surprise that they were talking. Truth was rehab had been brutal. You knew that it could get hard for Jeonghan, that it could be painful but nothing really prepared you for what you saw. And if it was hard for you to watch him go through that, it was unimaginable to understand how it was for him.
Throughout the entire session, Jeonghan looked in pain, his grunts and the scowl on his face growing with each passing second and new movement. Midway through you told Seungkwan and Vernon to stop filming. You had seen enough and you had more than what you needed for the documentary.
You would only film his rehab again when he was no longer in such pain, you decided. Out of the many things you learned about Jeonghan was that showing his weaknesses wasn’t something he was too fond of or even comfortable with the idea of it. So there was no real reason to keep recording and you couldn’t stand it either.
While you watched his face contort in pain, you felt something inside your chest tighten.
It had never been a real issue before with you. You had always managed to separate your personal emotions from the things you felt while working. More often than not you told stories that were hard to listen to, took someone’s suffering, and put it on the TV for the entire world to see in hopes that maybe a part of their lives would be changed. You had always been able to detach yourself from that.
However while inside with Jeonghan, such a thing was not possible. You felt your throat constrict and your eyes grow wet and for a short while, you couldn’t breathe either. It made no sense really. Why did it hurt to see this man, you knew nothing about, in pain to the point you wanted to cry? Why did it sadden you so much that he was limping harder than before?
You wanted to approach him, ask if he was okay, if it had been too much. But it was out of line, it was one that you knew you shouldn’t cross. There was this itch though, in the back of your mind, begging you to just ask, to just take a step closer to him.
It happened so suddenly that you didn’t even see it happening. One second it was just the five of you in the parking lot, in the next there were reporters with mics and cameras pointed at Jeonghan. You noticed how Jeonghan raised his shoulders at the same time he lowered his head. He couldn’t see in front of himself, you were certain.
Joshua put an arm around Jeonghan’s shoulder while he used the other one to keep them away from him. Not that it was of any use. One of the cameras was directly under his face as if trying to get an expression, anything at all, that could show his discomfort with the situation. From somewhere behind you there were flashes.
"Do you believe your injury was a result of your own carelessness?" someone asked.
You felt your blood run cold for a second and you froze in place, Seungkwan and Vernon behind you.
"Do you think your skating career is over after such devastating injuries?" someone followed.
"Did you regret pushing yourself so hard during training, knowing it led to your injury?"
"How did it feel to watch other skaters progress while you were stuck in rehab?"
"Are you worried that your injury will define your career more than your achievements on the ice?"
The questions got progressively worse and you wanted to scream at them to just shut up, and stop. How could they just ambush someone like that with those questions? It made no sense at all. And though you knew that it would cause more harm than good you wished Jeonghan would tell them all to fuck off.
Instead, he kept his head low and just slowly walked to his car while ignoring everyone around him, all the careless words being thrown at him.
You tried to take a step forward but were held back by Seungkwan, who gripped the strap of your purse. He didn’t say a word, just shook his head.
“They can’t just do that to him” you almost cried
“If you say anything, it might only make matters worse,” Hansol said, his voice sad.
That sudden need to protect Jeonghan felt weird but oddly natural as well. Weird because you knew that you shouldn’t, because you hardly knew the guy. Natural because it felt as if you had always done that like it was just second nature to you.
“He is used to this,” Seungkwan said, still not letting go of your purse.
“He shouldn’t be! They are barely treating him like a human!”
By the time you turned around, Jeonghan was already inside the car leaving the parking lot.
The clock on the top of your phone screen told you that it was 4:37 am. You hadn't even realized that you had spent so many hours still awake.
As soon as you got home from the rehab with Jeonghan, you took a quick shower, ate the leftovers from the night before, and started to look up Jeonghan’s performances.
The man was a celebrity amongst athletes since he was a child. He was always seen as a promise of the sport. He was good from the start. Performing moves that he was still too young to do, entering competitions boys his age never really competed in and somehow managing to either come up to the podium or even winning some of them.
Everything was displayed online. Yearly competitions, practices, and small moments of his life.
Jeonghan's entire life, at least the sports part, was exposed on the internet for anyone, from anywhere in the world, to see. And it wasn't just the competitions, having videos of that part seemed completely normal and expected.
What was scary was all the other content. Some photos of him in school uniform, not one where he was actually looking at the camera, but ones that were clearly taken in secret. Another one from when he seemed to have simply gone out for coffee with Joshua.
You knew he had fans, that he was liked wherever he went, and that he was always followed, but that seemed a bit much.
In reality, watching videos of the competitions was like a gateway to everything that came after.
You knew very little about Jeonghan, only what you had read about in all the articles that you found and all of them had one thing in common: Jeonghan was a huge diva, who thought he was superior to everyone. But after seeing how he had been treated that day, as soon as he got out of rehab, you knew it wasn't like that. It was as if they had appeared out of nowhere, one second the parking lot was empty and the next it was full of journalists, shouting things and asking questions that to many would seem harmless, but were clearly intended to hurt.
Instead of watching more competition videos, not that there were many you hadn't watched yet, you decided to look for the famous video of him treating journalists badly.
You had never found one so easily on the internet. You just typed "Jeonghan and journalists" into the search bar and it was the first video to appear.
It was a scene very similar to the previous day. Jeonghan was in the parking lot, walking towards the guy when he was surrounded by several journalists.
"You didn't get the podium today, are you disappointed?" one of them asked and that was the most harmless question he got. “Did you really try hard or did you think you would get a high score because you were the favorite?” “Why did you fall in such a simple jump?” “Don't you think it was an amateur's performance?”
You didn't want to keep listening to all those meaningless questions, but you couldn't take your eyes off Jeonghan. He still had short hair at the time, even covering his eyebrows. His jaw was clenched, his eyes were hard, and his gaze was focused straight ahead, as he walked slowly to his car. Joshua tried as best he could to control the journalists with their microphones and cameras, but he was just one man against many. Finally, after what felt like ages, two security guards appeared, pushing the journalists away as they began shouting profanities in Jeonghan's direction.
Could those people even consider themselves journalists? Real journalists, who took their work seriously?
There is a very fine line between being a journalist who asks incisive questions and one who is completely disrespectful to the athlete. And those people were anything but professional.
It was no surprise that after that Jeonghan refused to give interviews.
That whole situation happened years before, at the beginning of the previous Olympic cycle, but even so, it was still a moment that haunted him. People remembered him as just that guy, someone who refused to answer simple questions. But what exactly did these people expect? That he was all smiles when he failed to reach the podium, even though he was the favorite in the competition? That he smiles when he hurts?
Finally, you managed to understand why he acted that way, and why his answers were so polite and direct. Jeonghan didn't want to leave room for interpretation. Not that he had much of a choice. People only see what they want to see, but that didn't mean he couldn't try.
Jeonghan couldn’t take his eyes away from your back, he followed your every move. You stood next to Joshua, talking to him quietly, his friend showing you something on his phone. He felt something scratch at his neck. This new and unknown feeling.
It was unusual for Jeonghan, to want to have someone’s undivided attention. It was usually the other way around and he was never willing to do it, with anyone. And then there you were and suddenly he didn’t like that you were talking with Joshua.
It wasn’t like you seemed to be having fun either. You moved around with intention, your eyes always focused, your words and questions firm and straight to the point. Jeonghan couldn’t help but wonder if it was always like that with you. If your professional persona always took over who you were in other moments.
His curiosity was huge but his courage to ask was very little.
“She may seem like it, but she won’t bite your head off if you talk with her,” someone said on his left.
Seungkwan stood at his side, his hands clasped in front of him while he rocked on his heels.
“I think she will,” Jeonghan said.
Seungkwan took his reply as an invitation to sit.
“You know, in the office, people call her the ice queen” he too looked in your direction, at your serious expression "She’s like that most of the time”
Jeonghan looked at Seungkwan expectantly, he knew there was a but coming soon. All he needed to do was wait long enough.
“She didn’t want to take this job, our boss forced her to. She’s more into storytelling, real people, with real issues”
“Am I not a real person?”
The offense in Jeonghan’s voice made Seungkwan almost fall off his chair. He didn’t intend for his words to sound like that.
“Of course you are” he laughed nervously while trying to explain it as best as he could “If it were up to her, she would focus this documentary on you, on how you started skating, why, what attracted you to it, how it affected the rest of your life. But your team doesn’t want that, I think. We were told that you already gave many interviews on the matter so there’s no point in talking about it again. They want us to focus on your recovery and then you make it to the Olympics. She’s trying to figure out how to do that in a way that makes someone watch it”
Jeonghan nodded, feeling guilty. It had been his request to not the documentary so focused on the past and more on what was happening in the moment
“She also doesn’t like sports and hated the idea of the job, but that's beside the point”
Both of them laughed, eyes still on your back now that you talked with Vernon, giving him new instructions.
“I’ll make sure that she gets to do the kind of documentary she thinks is best”
Seungkwan stood up, a big smile on his lips.
“Who could have known that the ice queen and the ice prince aren’t actually that cold”
After months of just rehab, it’s finally time for Jeonghan to get back on the ice and it pained you a little to admit that you were looking forward to it. The videos you watched could only take you so far, you wanted to actually see the real thing. Him, in action.
Of course, you know that he wasn’t going to be able to do a third of the things he did on those videos. But you wanted to see him in his element, how he would behave when he was finally around the thing he loved the most in the world — his words, not yours.
The one thing you were able to learn from Jeonghan was the fact that he indeed loved what he did. Like most people, sometimes he hated it. It was the thing he was most passionate about, yes, but it was also his job, so there were days when he just hated and the mere idea of leaving the house was too much.
It was too hard to be a professional athlete, it demanded way too much of him. Of anyone, really. Sometimes he wanted to be like everyone else and just not put everything he was into it. But if he did that, he lost one single day, he was scared that he could lose an entire year and maybe that year turned into two and then he could lose his chance to go to the Olympics.
And he only had one change left.
So, instead of focusing on much he didn’t want to do, Jeonghan decided to focus on the fact that there was only a year ahead of him and he would be able to do whatever he wanted and have as many down days as he wanted.
He didn’t know what he wanted to do and what would be the after for him but it gave him something to look forward to.
“Are you nervous?” you asked him.
Jeonghan was someone who was mostly quiet. You noticed that once he started to feel more comfortable he was one to start the conversation and even crack a few jokes here and there. Seungkwan had been the first person he kind of opened up to, which had left you a hint of jealousy. You wanted to be one he talked with mostly because it was your job but also just because.
However, he had been especially quiet that day. The three of you went to meet him at his apartment. The idea was that you’d follow him the entire day, from the moment he woke up, to when he went to the doctor to get the final clear and then finally to the ring.
He had talked very little, his eyes always focused somewhere else. It was clear that his mind was traveling somewhere far, far away. So you left him be, quietly watching him just move around. A silent shooting day, you told yourself In the end, however, you had a job and he needed to do the talking.
“It’s been too long,” he said, his eyes never really leaving the ice “I don’t know if I can still do it”
You laughed, causing him to finally look at you, eyes wide on his face. He tried to look serious but the corners of his lips were turned slightly up.
“You just don’t feel confident, but you didn’t forget it” you looked at his ankle, it was still weird to see him without any sort of protection around it “How’s your ankle?”
He just shook his head and in that moment you chose to believe that he was said It doesn’t bother me anymore.
Through the interviews, you found out that Jeonghan is the kind of person to suffer in silence. It was clear from all of his previous injuries, how he competed while in pain and only ever said anything when it was almost too late.
“Do you think I can still do it?”
There was something in his voice like he was almost on the verge of breaking. He sounded vulnerable in a way that was entirely too new, in a way you wanted to push Vernon and his camera away because that was a part of him you knew he didn’t want the world to see.
Instead, you reached for his arm, patting it a couple of times, hoping that your touch, as ungraceful and awkward as it was, was able to soothe him, even if it was just for a moment.
“I was watching some of your competitions last night, again, you know? And that guy? He’s still in there, I’m sure of it, I’ve seen him”
You weren’t just saying that to cheer him up, your words were true. You had seen that version of him, little glimpses here and there. He was in the way his eyes suddenly changed and it was like he owned the entire room, in the way he suddenly turned confident, in the way he was charming in a way that was almost sickening but all too enchanting either way.
Whether or not he believed it himself, Yoon Jeonghan was a force to be reckoned with.
"What kind of kid were you?" you asked, looking up at Jeonghan.
He sat opposite to you, bent down to tie the laces on his skates. His hair covered his face, you were sure that he couldn't see much, but he didn't seem bothered by it in the least. Maybe he had just gotten used to it.
Four months had gone by since you started to follow Jeonghan and even before that, he had kept his hair long. And you hated to admit that he looked good, too good even.
"What kind do you think I was?" He smirked at you for a second before going back to his skates.
Rolling your eyes, you couldn't help but smile.
"This is not how it works. I ask the questions here"
Jeonghan leaned back on his seat, giving you his full attention. His smirk did something to your insides. It felt tight and loose at the same time, like wild butterflies running around on your skin.
"Come on, humor me"
You pretended to be in deep thought, Jeonghan as a child had been something you thought about for a long time now. Even though he was very serious most of the time there were these small moments where he looked like a kid ready to do something he wasn't supposed to.
"I can only think of you as a troublemaker” you smiled, closing your notes knowing well that you’d make no progress at all with the filming “I’ve seen pictures of you and a child and although you looked very cute, I’m sure you were a handful to your mother”
Jeonghan laughed, throwing his head back and in that moment he looked so carefree.
Even since the start of the documentary Jeonghan had used his most serious expressions, a frown always taking over his beautiful features. But he had been back on the ice for a few days already and in those days he had looked the happiest you had seen him yet.
Of course, he still hasn’t practiced the way he wanted or the way he used to. He still needed to take things slowly: fewer hours, less power in the movements. But it was undeniable that he was a completely different person.
It wasn’t that he had been in a bad mood every single day but there was just something about him in his element, of him doing something he was obviously passionate about, that was so enchanting that it became impossible to look away from him.
“Where did you see those pictures?”
“You do know that I had to google you because I had no idea who you were, right?”
One thing you managed to learn about Jeonghan is the fact that, if in the right mood, he is a trickster and most of all, a flit. You weren’t even sure that he was aware of what he was doing, it seemed like second nature to him.
He put a hand over his chest, faking being in pain. His face contorted and a pout on his lips.
“I thought we were getting to know each other”.
Seungkwan coughed by your side, finally making you remember that there were people around you and that the entire interaction between you and Jeonghan was being recorded.
There was something about Jeonghan that always seemed to make you forget where you were, that maybe there were people around you. You could only suppose that it was the charm of a man who knew exactly what he was doing, who knew how to sweet talk someone.
And Jeonghan knew what he was doing, what kind of words or looks could get a reaction from a woman.
Most of the time while around Jeonghan you had to remind your heart to be calm and quiet. Being around him was a temporary arrangement, as soon as the Olympics started said arrangement would be done and you’d have to go back to your normal life. One that didn’t include Yoon Jeonghan. And you also knew that there wasn’t space for you in his life.
“We’re going to set up the cameras around the ice,” Seungkwan said awkwardly while dragging Verno by the hand.
You watched as the two walked away from you, whispering in secrecy. You could only imagine the kind of things that they were saying. If you knew Seungkwan at all, you were certain that it couldn’t be any good.
“Jeonghan, I ask questions and you answer them. And while one could say that I’m getting to know you, I don’t think it would be possible to say the same thing about me”
Jeongahn's smile was defiant when he crossed his arms over his chest.
“You have a no-bullshit policy, which I should have known, from the start, but I wasn’t expecting someone like you. Although you try really hard to pretend that you’re not, your eyes are kind and you quietly take care of those around you, me included sometimes. You got worried when I was in pain in rehab and when Vernon got hurt it seemed as if you were angry, but you were concerned about him and after that, you asked to have another staff with you so that he wouldn’t need to carry so many things on his own. You and Seungkwan bicker a lot but when he isn’t around for a day you are quieter and your questions have been more direct. That doesn’t make you a lousy documentarist, please don’t think that I’m saying that, you take your job very seriously. I’m saying that you put people above your job. I’m guessing that’s why you wanted to become a documentarist, to begin with, to tell stories”
You stared at him, mouth open wondering just how he had come up with all of that and why he had managed to hit everything right on the stop. Especially the reason why you became a documentarist. It seemed very obvious, yes, but it wasn’t something that you had said.
In fact, your personal life was something that very few people knew. You weren’t one to share your thoughts and what was on your mind with people. Seungkwan was a good friend, but he was a work friend so your personal life was just that, personal. Not that you had someone to share it with, either way.
The apartment was empty when you left and it was in the exact same way and you got back. You were on your own, with no parents, no siblings and most of your friends had given up on you somewhere along the way.
For the longest time, you put your job first. It came before anything and anyone. You were building your career and name at the time so it was hard not to put it first. It was your dream, one that your friends supported at first but were displeased when you decided to put it first.
You had thought that if you made it big on your job if you got hired by a big production company, you’d be able to find the happiness that you had searched for a long time. And while some of it was true, your career was on the right path and you did something you loved, you didn’t have a lot more beyond that going one.
It was become just you and your job.
Was it sad? Yes, but it was also the life you chose.
“Just because I don’t know details of your life, doesn’t mean that I don’t watch you, yn”
You watched as Jeonghan fell for what felt like the hundredth time that day. It didn't make sense, not really. At least not for you. And from the looks of it, for him too.
He was frustrated and completely angry. All those people looking at him, expectations high, waiting for something. He wasn't sure what. For him to fail? To see if he still could do it?
Everything was possible and impossible at the same time.
He couldn't stop his eyes from going after you every time you fell. Somehow, your reaction was the only one that mattered to him. The first few times your face was completely emotionless, as if you were staring at a blank wall. Then Jeonghan fell once again, and again, and again. He stopped counting at 10, but he knew it was much more than that actually. But your gaze, which was fixed on him, became more worried as the minutes passed and he hated being the cause of it.
Somehow, since he met you, only two things were on Jeonghan's mind: skating and you.
He didn't know how, he didn't know why, but you had taken over his every thought. It was as if you had walked through an imaginary door and entered his mind and decided that it was a great place to be.
Even on days when you didn't see each other because there was no recording, he was tempted to talk to you. And on one of those days, he just succumbed to the temptation of picking up the phone and calling you.
“Jeonghan, is everything okay?” was the first thing you said.
He hated that worry was the first emotion he awakened in you. He hated that the first thing you said wasn't "hello" like a normal person. But at the same time, the concern made him feel somehow welcomed. It could, of course, be all in his head, and what he saw as concern for himself was actually concern for the documentary.
"I just wanted to talk," he admitted.
Maybe it was because he had gotten used to talking to you, maybe it was because you offered zero judgment for the way he thought or reacted. Or maybe it was because it was you. Whatever it was, Jeonghan felt comfortable talking to you.
Telling the truth, about everything, was not difficult, in fact, it became something very easy. It was because of you, he knew.
"I realized I don't know anything about you"
You laughed and he listened as you moved through what he imagined to be his apartment.
"That's because I interview you and not the other way around"
He sat on the bed, his legs stretched out in front of him as he supported the rest of his weight on his arms stretched behind him.
"Do you think it's so bad that I know anything about you?"
You remained silent for a few seconds, seeming to think about the idea. It wasn't bad, not at all.
At several moments you found yourself with your cell phone in your hand, ready to send a message or call him. You weren’t sure what, but there was something about Jeonghan that just made you want to tell him everything.
"What do you want to know?" you said with a sigh.
"Whatever you want to share"
The great truth is that very little happened in your life. You lived alone, worked every day, and came home alone. Your last boyfriend, or even a fling, was over a year before. Your friends, if you could call them that, were all from work. Your life was quite still and dull. Even if you wanted to talk about work. Jeonghan was your job. There wasn't much to talk about.
"I don't think I have much to tell" you knew that what you were about to say wasn't the happiest topic in the world, but it was what you had to offer "My mother passed away when I was nineteen, since then I've been alone"
You could still clearly remember the day your father left. There wasn't a fight. He never packed his bag and left. One day he was there when you woke up, he gave you breakfast and took you to school, like he did on most days. But it was his job to pick you up and he never showed up. Your mother showed up instead, her eyes swollen as she did her smile to smile at you and explain to the teacher why she was so late. When you finally got home she said "Now it's just you and me. Daddy had to leave"
For months, years even, you waited for him to come back. You thought one day he would just appear in front of you. You were disappointed when it was your mother who showed up to pick you up when he didn't come to his birthdays when you called the number he had left with his mother and he never answered.
You waited until you turned 18 to go after him. You only had a name, but with that alone, a person can find everything on the internet. You found him in another state, working at a real estate agency. You sat down in front of him and talked for about half an hour. You made up a story about going to college and needing a place to live. You said your name and your mother's name several times, surname and everything, and at no point did he seem to connect one thing to the other. Until the last second, when you said you would think about renting the studio he had suggested, and he walked you to the door. He said, "I left for a reason, don't come back here."
You couldn't believe what you had heard. You couldn't understand why he left and why he never came back. But at that moment you decided that if he didn't want you, you didn't need him. Your mother had worked so hard to make sure you had everything you needed.
Exactly one year later, your mother died in a bizarre car accident. It was like being 7 years old again and losing another person, only in a much more painful way.
"You don’t have any siblings?" Jeonghan's voice on the other end brought you back "Relatives?"
You shook her head, even though you knew he couldn't see you.
"I was an only child, so no siblings. My mom was an orphan so relatives either. My father left when I was a child"
You and Jeonghan spent the whole night on the phone, talking about everything and nothing. From trivial things to more personal matters. His delight upon learning that you didn’t have a boyfriend didn’t go unnoticed.
Calls and messages became commonplace between the two of you. Your heart raced every time a new message arrived and it was hard to hide your disappointment when you realized it wasn't from him. On days when you didn't see each other, you would stare at your phone, waiting for it to ring, waiting for him to call.
So you hoped he understood when you shook your head in his direction, a request written on your face. That's enough for today, you can try more tomorrow, you hoped he would understand.
Instead of trying one more time after he fell once again, he skated to the edge of the ice. His face was red from the effort, and his chest rose and fell in an uneven rhythm trying to force air back into his lungs.
"I want everyone out," he said, his voice broken.
Seungkwan and Vernon didn't even question it, they simply started putting away the equipment. Jihoon, who had shown up unexpectedly to "supervise" didn't seem to understand what was going on, but turned to help Vernon.
Jeonghan's coach was the only one who approached him, his hand on the athlete's shoulder.
"Go home, rest. Tomorrow we try again"
Jeonghan shook his head. He would only get out of there after managing to make the damn jump, even if he had to stay the whole night.
"Just half an hour more, but I want to be alone"
The coach clearly didn't like the idea, but he knew it was stupid to try and make Jeonghan change his mind.
You turned to him, looking at his face, trying to figure out if he was in pain or if he was just being a big blockhead. Without giving yourself the luxury of thinking about what you were doing, you placed your hand over Jeonghan's and squeezed for a second. You hoped he understood what you meant.
"You have to rest"
You knew everyone was watching, that despite saying they were leaving they weren't actually moving. Jeonghan didn't seem to care and for a moment you decided not to care either.
“Stay,” he said softly, so only you could hear him “please.”
Some strands of hair were stuck to Jeonghan's face, you wanted to get them out of his face, but caution spoke louder. You looked over your shoulder and everyone was still looking at the two of you, but as soon as they noticed your gaze they started moving again. Seungkwan shouted “We’re leaving” and seconds later the door slammed.
Finally, you were alone.
“You have to rest,” you said again.
You took advantage of the fact that no one else was there and removed the strands of hair stuck to his forehead, tucking it behind his ear. Jeonghan sighed, his eyes closing as he leaned towards you. Just that little touch wasn't enough.
“I need to get it right”
"If you stop now and rest you will know what you are doing wrong"
A half smile shined on Jeonghan's face as he leaned further into the barrier, his face just inches away from his.
"My ego loves it when you say I'm doing something wrong”
You pushed him back, needing a little bit more space to yourself. He was too close, you could feel his breath on your nose and cheeks. It was suddenly as if the world was made of Yoon Jeonghan, it was just him and no one else.
“I’m sure your ego will be just fine”
Instead of pulling your hand back, you allowed it to stay in his chest. Jeonghan smiled for a second before pressing his hand over yours.
“Just another 30 minutes” he repeated what he said to his coach “I promise I’ll stop in precisely 30 minutes”
You nodded with a sigh. There was nothing you could do to stop him. Something told you that even if you threatened him to leave he would stay and practice, he would stay on the ice for far more than just 30 minutes if you weren’t around.
So you sat down and waited for him. And he fell time and time again, his face growing displeased with himself at each passing second, each time he jumped but didn't manage to land.
Jeonghan had done that same jump countless times before with ease as if one's body would simply perform such movements. To him, it always seemed as easy as walking. You had seen it in all of his videos, almost in trance by him.
“If you’re not done in twenty-one minutes” you pretended to look at your imaginary watch “I’m taking you out of there by force”
Jeonghan threw his head back, laughing.
“Remember when you said that you never skated before?” Jeonghan asked after finally being able to breathe properly again.
You weren’t too sure how, but he had stopped after 30 minutes. A big smile on his face after he managed to land the jump after so many tries. After getting it right once, he didn’t get it wrong again. It was like something clicked inside his brain as if he had found the last missing piece of the puzzle.
Of all the things you said to Jeonghan, from the most personal to the most trivial, that was, by far, the only one you regretted. You had told him over the phone but he looked horrified, it was easy to imagine the wide eyes on his face.
But him standing there, in front of you, with a smile that could only be seen on the face of a mischievous child, said much more than any words he could utter.
“No,” you said, shaking your head, already moving back.
You had learned several peculiarities about Jeonghan in all the months you spent by his side, and one of the most glaring was the look in his eyes when he was about to do something he shouldn't.
“You have to try, at least once” his lips were a mixture of a smile and a pout “You will have the best teacher in the world”
You saw it and shook your head again.
“I can’t trust a teacher who spent the day falling” you pointed to the rink behind him.
As soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted them. You didn't know if your words would offend him, you hoped he knew it wasn't your intention. But you also knew that hell was paved with good intentions. Jeonghan was silent for a minute, his face serious, his eyes not leaving yours for an entire minute.
Then he smiled, his nose wrinkling a little as he laughed, loudly. It didn't take long for you to join him.
“You’re evil,” he said, trying to control himself, but failing “This way you’re going to break my heart”
“I think there are few things in this world that can break your heart.”
You would definitely be one of them, Jeonghan wanted to say, but he held his tongue in his mouth. He knew he couldn't say that, he knew that any word said wrongly could simply ruin everything he had built so far. If he could even say he built something. He liked to think so.
From the first time you spoke, Jeonghan knew there was no going back, at least for him. He had never done anything like that. He had never called someone in the middle of the night simply because he wanted to hear someone's voice. And in this case, it wasn't just someone's voice, it was your voice that he wanted to hear.
With each passing sentence, Jeonghan found himself falling more in love with you and he wasn't able to say why. Maybe he could blame it on your eyes, always so focused, but somehow when they turned to him, they seemed so sweet and sincere. Or your voice, which gave orders and asked incisive questions, but as soon as the cameras were turned off it became gentle and almost shy. Maybe it was the fact that you seemed like a lioness when you were working, never giving space for unfounded questions, but you were shy when it was just the two of you alone.
He liked this version of you, who was right in front of him, who seemed completely comfortable with him, to the point of making jokes — something that until that moment you hadn't done yet.
“We always have extra pairs in the back, I'm sure one of them is your size” he had made sure you would, with Seungkwan's help of course “And then we try it, what do you think?”
Even though you were shaking your head, you went to the closet where you knew the skates were stored.
With your knees bent and shaking, you stepped onto the ice and immediately regretted giving in to Jeonghan's will. You didn't know how he had managed it, but in the closet, there was a brand new pair of skates, your size. Jeonghan had smiled as he bent down to tie your shoelaces,
“I’m going to fall flat on my face,” you said as you grabbed the bars.
Jeonghan held your face in his hands, your eyes fixed on his.
“I won’t let you fall”
The way the words left his lips made your heart skip a beat, or maybe several of them. You could feel it on the back of your throat and you could swear that your hands shook a little as you accepted the hand Jeonghan had extended to you.
You wished it could just stop. Not for your heart to stop beating altogether but for it to stop reacting to Jeonghan. Everything changed after that first call and you weren’t too sure of where it was. He had, someway, somehow, become a pivotal point of you. His voice, his eyes. The way tingles started to run down through your body the moment his skin came in touch with yours. How, despite all odds, he made you feel safe in a way you weren’t too sure you had ever experienced before.
When he said that he wasn’t going to you fall, you believed him so you held his hands — strong enough that you were sure were hurting him but he didn't seem to mind — and allowed Jeonghan to pull you into the rink.
“Don't move your feet” he said, voice ever so sweet but with a slight hint of teasing “I know it's probably hard, but let me take control here”
Forcing out all of the remaining air inside your lungs, you did as he asked. Instead of keeping your focus on the ice under your feet, you kept them in Jeonghan's face. A mistake, of course.
His eyes were too intense if you could say that. You didn't want to understand what was happening. Perhaps for the first time since you met Jeonghan, you didn't want to understand what it could mean. You were scared. What, exactly, you weren’t sure.
“I didn’t even have to ask you to look at me,” he said and you laughed a little, automatically looking away “Keep looking at me”
The whole experience of skating for the first time, or being guided, was not being registered by your brain. All you could see, think, feel, was Jeonghan, as if he had become a central point of everything.
“I think we should stop here”
You hoped your voice was loud enough and judging by the look on Jeonghan's face, it was. The smile fell from his lips and it was as if a small light in his eyes had gone out.
You hated that you were the one causing that reaction in him, but you knew it was best to stop everything before it went too far.
"I thought that…"
“We can’t blur the lines that much” you shook your head.
You didn't know exactly who you were trying to convince, him or you. You also weren't sure you had to convince yourself of anything. It was as if your brain had split in two. One part, probably the loudest, wanted you to just let things happen. You knew you weren't doing anything wrong, you weren't doing anything much really. What you did outside of your working hours and who you did it with was your problem and no one else's.
But the other part, one that spoke softly and that should have had much less strength, said it was dangerous, but also didn't offer much reason to be dangerous.
Yet somehow, that was the side you chose to listen to.
"Why?" He asked forcing his feet to the ground, making the two of you stand in the center of the rink. “What line are we blurring?”
You shook your head, hands clinging to his waist as you felt your feet begin to slide.
“I don’t know” you whispered in response “We are working”
Jeonghan leaned forward and pressed his lips to your cheek. With a sigh, he let his forehead fall onto your shoulder and closed his eyes.
You didn't know exactly where your skepticism came from, but you were also sure it wasn't completely unfounded. But truth be told, you wanted to blur that line and any others that might appear along the way.
“Go on a date with me,” he said “If you still feel that way, there’s nothing we can do. Just don’t… don’t stop something that hasn’t even started yet”
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baby bear | c. leclerc
pairing: charles leclerc x reader
word count: 1.7k words
request: nope.
warnings: fluff, a baby, this is really badly written bc i haven’t written an actual story in monthsssss. this was based on this tiktok i saw a few weeks ago, plsss watch it before reading if you want the context, otherwise it won't make much sense. tell me this isn't the most charles energy you've ever seen.
a/n: look who remembered her tumblr password. i haven't been on here for so long... what's new? what are the new trends? how are we liking the new f1 season? how are you? perhaps posting once every three months will be my personality from now on.
my masterlist
“look what i bought.”
those words were not unusual to hear, especially coming from charles, especially since you found out you were pregnant. you looked up from the book you were reading, raising your eyebrows at the sight of charles’ bright eyes and him trying to bite back a grin.
“so… i was wondering around, and stumbled upon the baby store,” he started, you nodded, knowing he obviously went there on purpose, “and found the cutest, most perfect little suit for the baby,”
“okay…” you started, placing a bookmark and closing the book as you sat up, extending your arm, asking him to get closer. “is it cute?”
“the cutest.” he said, placing the bag on the bed and taking out the suit.
“aw, charles,” your heart immediately melted at the sight of a brown bear suit, with a small hoodie and bear ears. “it looks cozy, and big…” you noticed.
“yeah, she’s gonna look perfect in it.” he said, leaning forward to kiss your lips. after that, he walked to the crib you’d set up in your room, to be able to reach the baby faster in the first few months of her life. in there, you’d set up the bag you would bring to the hospital when she was ready to join the world.
“what are you doing?” you said, getting up and walking to him, you wrapped an arm around him, placing your head on his shoulder.
“i want her to wear this when she comes home,” he explained, and you could tell just by the way he blurted that out a little too fast, that he meant it, and that he’d probably already imagined the sight of your beautiful new baby in his arms. you wanted to tell him that this maybe was a bit too big for her, but you didn’t want to break his bubble.
“okay, but we have to wash this first, alright?” you smiled, standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek while he nodded, knowing you were right.
“my little bella bear.” he sighed as he caressed the soft suit.
-
five months later, your little baby girl, isabella, had already outgrown her original suit, your heart broke a little, knowing how much charles loved seeing her in it.
he was currently out of the country, but already on his way back home after a few days on the other side of the world. you were rocking your little girl to sleep when you heard your phone ring. you grabbed it and smiled as you saw charles’ face fill your screen.
“hey,” you whispered, tilting your phone down so he could see the baby.
“hi, my baby,” he said, making you smile. “why isn’t she wearing the suit?” he asked.
“charles, she wore it yesterday,” you chuckled, remembering the way he almost screamed in delight as he saw her in it the day before.
“yeah, and?”
“she can’t wear it every day,” you laughed softly, not wanting to disturb her. “i’ll wash it tonight.”
“okay, i can’t wait to be back home. i want to hold you both,”
“what time do you get here?” you smiled, having missed him after being away for almost a week. luckily, the next three races were close to home.
“i’m not sure. i’ll check and let you know. but don’t worry, lorenzo will pick me up. can i ask you a favor, though?”
“of course.”
“can you dress her in the bear suit?” he almost pleaded, pouting.
“fine,” you laughed, “you’ll see your little bear tomorrow.”
-
charles would not, in fact, be seeing his little bear. because one cruel thing about having a baby is how quick they grow. it was bizarre, since just two days ago it still fit her perfectly, but now her legs were a little too long to fit comfortably, her head a little too big to place the hood on it.
you swore under your breath, knowing how heartbroken charles would be once he found out the news. you dressed bella in a different outfit, some white overalls that had little bears embroidered on it with a brown shirt underneath. it was the best you could do.
but then you received a text from charles.
‘can't wait to see you and bella bear.’ followed by a white heart and a bear emoji.
“oh, my god,” you mumbled, grabbing bella, your handbag and car keys.
you drove to the store you knew charles had bought the original bear suit from, with bella on your arm, since you didn’t have time to grab her stroller or anything, you were thinking out loud, talking to bella as you walked through the store and looked for the suit.
“the things we do for daddy, he just loves seeing you in that suit,” you said, kissing her temple as you walked through the store. “there it is.” you walked there, looking for the right size. “you know what? let’s get a few more.” you said, grabbing enough suits to hopefully fit her until at least her first birthday. bella giggled, curling her fists on the fabric of the suit. “you love the bear suit, too, don’t you?” you asked her, kissing her cheek. “my bella bear,” you often found yourself repeating the nickname charles gave her from that very first day a few weeks before she was born.
you quickly drove home and changed her into the suit, and waited for charles to arrive.
“i’m home!” he said, about twenty minutes after you got home.
“hey,” you walked to him, feeling his hands on your waist as he lifted you up, “i missed you.” you said as you buried your face in his neck.
“i missed you too, my love. i’m so happy i don’t have to travel too far away now.”
“i know. and maybe bella and i can join you?” you asked, having contemplated that idea while charles was gone.
“you think she’s ready? are you?” you shrugged.
“we won’t know unless we try.”
“okay, then… we’ll try.” he placed a kiss to your lips, one that took your breath away like it was the very first one. “where is she?”
“napping,” you answered, slipping your fingers between his and leading him to bella’s room. she’d already upgraded from the crib in your shared room to her own.
“my little bella bear, i missed you so much,” he said, kneeling in front of the crib and running his knuckle softly against her chubby cheek. “you look so pretty in your bear suit.”
-
and as months passed, charles was still unaware of the change of suits. every two or three months you’d change into the next size, taking advantage of the weather changing -telling charles that it was too warm for bella to wear it as often-, and the times he had to leave home. you would rummage through the drawers in bella’s room, where you kept all the suits she had grown out of.
it sometimes came with little slip-ups, like the time you forgot about one small rip in the original suit that you’d sewn together. as a force of habit, charles’ hand reached for that spot, just to make sure it was still there, that it wasn’t growing any bigger. but it wasn’t there.
“huh,” he hummed out loud, catching your attention.
“what?” you asked, looking up from the puzzle you were piecing together.
“nothing, it’s just… the rip, it feels weird.” he said, running his finger up and down the place where the rip was supposed to be.
“oh, maybe it got messed up in the wash,” you said the first thing that came to your mind.
“maybe,”
“hey, can you help me find this piece?” you asked, changing the subject quickly to get it out of his head.
in the blink of an eye, her first birthday was approaching, and so did the choice to pick a theme for her birthday party.
“she’s been really into flowers lately,” you told charles one morning, as you both helped bella stand up and encouraged her to walk from parent to parent.
“hmm… flowers and rainbows?” he said, holding bella up as she steadied herself. “you like that bella bear?” he asked her. you reached to your side holding a flower plushie you’d bought her a few days ago.
“flowers, bella?” you held it in front of you, but bella turned around, playing with charles instead. “that’s a no, i guess,” you chuckled.
“i know…” charles said, setting bella down and walking to her bed. he grabbed her teddy bear, “bears?”
“bear!” you both turned your heads at the same time, staring at bella.
“oh my god, did she-”
“i think she did, come here,” you said, grabbing the teddy from him, “bear?”
“bear!” she repeated, and you held her in your arms as charles sat next to you.
“your first word, baby…” he murmured, and you looked up at him, heart melting at the sight of his eyes shining bright at your daughter.
“what about a bear party?” you suggested.
“i was thinking the same thing. i’ll go to the store tomorrow to buy her a new suit, now we can add this one to the collection,” he said, putting on the little hoodie.
“what?” you asked, completely taken aback by his comment.
“yeah, the drawer filled with the suits,” he pointed at it.
“you knew?”
“what? that you’d been secretly switching the suits, ripping and sewing it back together so that i wouldn’t notice? yeah,” he said.
“then why- how-”
“that first suit… you really thought i wouldn’t find it weird how the rip was there, then it wasn’t, and then it magically appeared again?”
“you just loved that suit so much, and i didn’t want to break your heart once she started to grow them out, so i got a bunch and kept them there.”
“i know. i’ve seen them,”
“oh my god,” you groaned, leaning against him as he laughed.
“i love you. it was so hard to keep this to myself.”
“how do you think i felt?” you laughed, looking down at bella. “why didn’t you tell me anything, missy?” you tickled her belly, smiling at her loud giggles.
“come on, bella bear, we have to go find a new suit for your birthday party.”
BYE this is really bad, i'm sorry.
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candle light with remus lupin for your eclipse event!
maybe something where he's mean but also does good good aftercare?
LUV UR WRITIING <3
thank youuu, and thank you for requesting! really hope you like it!!
pairing: Remus Lupin x reader
tags / warnings: established relationship, smut (NSFW, MDNI), fluff
word count: 3k
part of my 1k celebration!
You are exhausted. You’re tense; you’re tired as you come home after what’s felt like a week, not a day. Too much to do, too much pressure, too many decisions. You feel them in your body, weighing you down.
The first thing you do as you enter your bedroom you share with Remus is strip down to your knickers. You toss your bra away with perhaps a little bit too much resentment and find your favourite of Remus’s jumpers you like to borrow. It’s too big on either of you.
You head to your kitchen, putting on a record so sad it’s somehow consoling as you do. As you start making yourself a comforting cup of tea, you hear the door behind you.
“Hi, lovely.”
It’s his voice that’s lovely, and just the sound of it has already begun thawing your tension.
“Hey,” you say back as you feel him approach behind you, his arms coming around your middle. They’re warm and firm, and you sink back into his body.
You feel him breathe in your hair, kiss the side of your head.
“Remus,” you whine into him. He hums into your neck in response, placing a soft kiss there. His squeezes you tightly, his hands bunching up the jumper you’re wearing.
“Hmm. Sad music, cosy jumper, earthy tea, whiny voice,” he lists sympathetically. “Someone’s had a long day.”
“You’ve no idea.”
His large hands come to your shoulders, kneading deeply. You squirm at the intensity, pain and pleasure dancing inextricably. At a knot a bit too sensitive for his ministrations, you flinch out of his grasp and step back, turning to face him. You expect to be met by his beguiling brown eyes, but they’re look down. His head cocks to the side appreciatively. You realize he’s admiring your bare legs and chuckle.
“Nothing you haven’t seen before.”
“Doesn’t mean I like it any less,” he retorts, voice gruffer. He looks you up and down with an intensity that dissipates any playfulness in your mood. You realize how badly you want him to take you, to make you leave the day behind you and completely envelop you in the here and now… and the pleasure it could hold.
Remus can’t read your mind, though, and being the doting boyfriend he is, he comes to hold you gently again, stroking your back, trying to comfort you.
“Let’s get you relaxed, huh, baby?” he says, kissing your forehead.
“Yeah,” you whisper.
“What do you want to do? Want to go straight to bed? Watch something? We could read together? Same book or different, you choose.” He’s already taken over preparing your tea, seemingly completely distracted away from your body.
His suggestions and demeanour make you think maybe he’s not in the mood, Remus never being shy to tell you when he is, so you worry maybe it’s not the best moment to voice your honest desires.
“I don’t know, whatever; you choose.” You sound a bit defeated, and he looks over at you at your tone.
“No, you should. I’m happy with anything if it’s good for you, really,” he says as he turns back to the easy work of pouring the hot water. He’s always this sweet, almost always defers to doing whatever you feel like doing.
It’s no fault of his, but your looming tiredness, your sudden heat, it all makes you snappy.
“I said I don’t care, Rem. Why do I always have to be the one to choose everything? Sometimes I’m tired, okay? And I already said you can choose.”
The mugs are forgotten, his attention fully on you at this.
“Woah, what’s up?” He leans back on the counter, arms crossed a bit defensively, but eyes all concern.
“Nothing,” you sigh. “Nothing, I’m sorry.”
You turn away and busy yourself with anything you can find, tidying up mindlessly.
“Hey, c’mon, love, what’s up?” His voice is slightly harder, and as he asks, he turns you to face him, his hands firmly holding your shoulders. His eyes look searchingly into yours, but your eyes flutter closed at the feeling of his hands on you and the sound of his deep voice. You bite your lip and whimper very very softly.
His hands immediately leave you, and it’s urgent when he rushes out, “Woah, did I hurt you? I didn’t mean to, baby; I just wanted to talk. You alright?”
You nod and whine “Remus” again, stepping toward him and looking into his eyes. You grab his hands in yours and place them back on your body. You bring one to your face and lean into it, put the other on your hip and squeeze your hand over his.
He’s watching you closely, letting you guide him.
His proximity and his touch, even like this, heat you up, and your body pushes you to honesty.
“I don’t want to sleep, or read, or any of that. And I don’t want to choose anything or think about anything else. I want you, Rem. I just want you. Please.”
His eyebrows shoot up, and ever so slowly he starts moving his own hands on you, yours still hovering above them.
His touch makes you melt, and your eyes shut. You exhale loudly as his hand grabs your face a bit harder. His thumb strokes, pushing into the skin of your cheek. You open your eyes and meet his.
They’re looking at yours searchingly, but upon seeing the look you’re giving him when they connect with yours, something clicks in Remus. You register it in his eyes as they shift in what seems like one blink from keen observation to piercing intensity.
He pulls your face to his forcefully, devouring your mouth. He’s eating up your immediate whimpers, tilting your head with his hands on either side of your face, pushing your tongue with his and licking into your mouth. You surrender completely and let him guide your ardent kiss.
Soon, his hand juts your head back with no warning, tugging your hair, and his mouth moves from yours to your jaw, kissing sloppily until he reaches your neck, where he plants a cruel bite.
You yelp, and he licks over it soothingly, but his voice is rough as he asks, “This what you want?” His mouth sucks your neck harshly, and his hands push under your jumper and grip the flesh of your hips so hard your body sways with his motions.
“Fuuuck, Rem, yes, pleeease.”
“Yes what?” he snaps.
“Yes, I want this. I want you to touch me like this.”
“Good,” he utters matter-of-factly.
He tugs the jumper over your head and throws it aside then maneuvers your body with his strong hands on your hips.
“Turn around,” he commands. And you do, though his hands flip you without your having much say in it.
His arms wrap around you, and he kneads your breasts roughly. He handles you so harshly that you yelp again in pleasured pain.
Remus presses his body up behind your now almost completely naked one. You feel his breath on your neck and shoulder, and you shiver as sensation shoots down your spine. You’re very pleasantly surprised to also feel his already hard cock on your arse even through his trousers. You push back into it and grind. He groans in reaction then chuckles gruffly into your ear.
“Fuck, you’re desperate, huh?” He squeezes your tits and thrusts his hips. His voice low and ominously even, he tells you, “You know, baby, all you had to do was tell me you wanted me to fuck you.” You whimper; he chuckles again. “Yeah? You want to get fucked, pretty girl?” You nod wordlessly. “I wanted to fuck you as soon as I came in here and saw your gorgeous thighs.” Never breaking contact with your skin, his hands slide down your body and squeeze the outsides of your thighs. Then they cup your arse and squeeze even tighter, jiggling it in his rough grip. “You looked so fucking sexy. But I thought you were tired. Silly me, huh, not realizing how you wanted me to take care of you. This how you want me to take care of you?”
“Yees.”
“Hmm.”
Your head is lolled back on his shoulder, but he pushes you suddenly forward.
“Bend over.” You do. The kitchen counter is cold on your tits; his hand is hot on your back, pushing you down.
His other hand yanks your knickers down and rubs roughly through your folds. You’re soaked.
“Dirty girl,” he chuckles. “Wanting to get fucked this badly.”
Without ado, he pushes two fingers into you. You scream at the breach, at the first hot graze of your inner walls. He rubs them around then curves them toward your sweet spot. His pace is immediately punishing, and it’s not too many thrusts later that he adds a third finger. Your cunt is squelching as his fingers fuck you.
His hand on your back moves up toward your neck and massages your shoulder as he holds you in place.
He keeps going, pushing so hard the fronts of your thighs smack the counter with each thrust, so fast that it’s hard to discern the increasing shaking of your thighs from the motions of his hand.
You whine, and turn your face into the counter to quiet it. His hand at your neck yanks your hair to lift your face.
“Uh-uh, pretty thing. I’ve had enough of you being quiet tonight. If I’m going to fuck you this good, you’re going to let me hear how I make you feel.”
You whimper involuntarily, doing nothing to filter your loud reaction.
“Better.”
Your thighs are seriously shaking now, and you’re tightening deliciously. You’re getting close.
His hand stops and pulls out of you, the other also releasing his grip on your hair. Your resulting whine sounds almost like you’re crying.
“Fuck, baby, relax,” Remus laughs. You hear the zipper of his trousers, hear the soft pat of clothes falling to the floor. His foot kicks yours into a wider stance suddenly. Then you feel his hard cock prodding at your warm, wet entrance. One of his hands grips your hip harshly as he guides himself in.
He’s slightly slower as he does, but he pushes all the way in without stopping. When he’s completely inside you, you whimper again at the fullness and barely hear him whisper “fuck.”
Just a second later, he’s thrusting; a few seconds later, it’s already rocking your entire body from the intensity. His grip tightens, and you know you’ll admire a bruise there tomorrow. His other hand grabs your shoulder for better leverage as he pistons in and out of you.
You’d already been so close that at the fucking he’s giving you, you feel close to the brink before even adjusting entirely to the position. Your hands flat on the counter, uselessly attempting to grip something, give you some stability as your body spasms jarringly.
“Fuck, already?” Remus pants. His tone seems sincerely surprised, not teasingly so.
He moves his hand to your other hip, vice-like grip pulling your arse onto his body in time with each fast, forward thrust of his hips.
He’s the one to moan loudly this time as your walls clench him. His prolonged moan sounds like it’s strangled in his throat as you clench again and again, but though it’s clearly wrecking him, the only effect on his pace is its increased brutality.
You start cumming in earnest, crying through it, shaking hard. Remus fucks you through most of it, but toward the very end, you feel him pull all the way out quickly, the absence jarring and gaping. His fingers pick up what his cock was just doing, and the sudden re-intensity gives you a second peak. He keeps going until your clenching cunt has mostly relaxed then slowly removes his fingers.
Your body feels heavy and limp, its only movement the harsh up and down of your heavy panting. When Remus’s hands maneuver you to lift your torso and turn you around, you’re very little help. You feel unstable on your legs, but Remus safely holds you up.
“Why’d you —” you start, your voice an exhausted whisper.
“Shut up,” he says, words hard, tone soft. He’s panting too, looking sweaty and spent. “Jump.”
You’re confused, but your body heeds his command as his hands lift your arse up till you’re sitting on the counter.
His hands grab the backs of your thighs and lift them up and out. You fall back slightly at the shift and end up resting on your forearms looking up at him. You rest your foot on the counter when his hand drops your leg so he can use it to guide himself back inside you.
He slips in easily but takes a moment to settle once he does. His eyes closed, chin lifted, chest rising and falling heavily. He looks so beautiful.
When he’s gathered himself, he shifts as close to you as he can and guides you up toward him too. Your legs wrap around his waist, your arms support you as you hold on to the counter’s edge. His support you, too, wrapped around your waist.
His forehead comes to yours, and he kisses you sloppily as his hips start thrusting again, more slowly this time. One arm still anchoring you, his other hand comes to your face, holding it as he keeps kissing you. His breathing picks up again as his hips do.
Face still close to yours, he confesses, “I know you wanted it rough, but I really felt like looking at you when I came this time.”
“Fuck, Rem.” You kiss him hard and clench him harder. He groans and picks up his pace, clearly getting tired but chasing an approaching high.
His hand slips between your bodies, pushing you the slightest angle away from him so he can rub at your clit. Your cunt spasms at the sensation, and you hear his breath catch.
He presses harder, establishes a rhythm, gradually making it faster. You’re close again at his adept touch, and you chant his name desperately as you shake your hips and push over your edge.
His strangled moan tells you he’s cumming before the feel of it between your legs does, his dark, aching eyes on you the whole time. Once he starts slowing down, you wrap your arms tightly around him and nestle into his neck. He kisses you everywhere he can reach: your cheek, your neck, your shoulder.
When he pulls apart from you, you shiver. You’re covered in sweat, and as he pulls his softening cock out of you, the wetness there is even worse. You wrap your arms around yourself and clench your thighs together.
“Here, baby,” Remus says, running for a clean towel, dampening it before standing in front of you again.
Very gently, he pushes your thighs apart again, stroking one soothingly as he cleans between your legs. When he’s done, he wraps you in a hug to bring you down off the counter, supporting you while you find you balance after your legs being rendered jelly.
“C’mere.” He holds you as he walks you to your bedroom. “You want to shower?”
“‘M too tired. Can I shower in the morning?”
“‘Course, lovely. Whatever you want.”
“Ugh.”
“What is it?”
“I need to pee.”
Remus giggles at you as he guides you toward the bathroom instead of the bed.
“I can’t pee with you staring at me like that,” you complain when he just leans on the sink as you try to go.
“I’m not staring; I’m admiring.”
“Ok, I can’t pee with you admiring me like that.”
He laughs again and turns around dramatically. He takes the opportunity to clean himself up.
You do what you need to do but stay sitting on the toilet even after you’ve finished, feeling too tired to get up.
Remus dampens your hand towel and squats in front of you. He dabs at your face gently, freshening it up. You close your eyes at the soothing sensations of being cleaner and of being doted on. When he’s done your whole face and neck, he pecks your nose before getting up.
“You planning on sleeping here or what?” he teases.
“‘M tired,” you moan.
“C’mon, lovely girl,” he chuckles, yanking you up. You finish cleaning up then follow him to bed, plopping down onto it.
He hasn’t stopped giggling at your antics.
“Want clothes?”
“Just knickers please.”
He tosses you a clean pair, slips into his own pants, then falls into bed with you. He shifts your body into a reasonable position and pulls the covers over you. Resting on his side, propped up on his elbow, his other hand starts stroking your bare skin lovingly.
“You okay, sweet girl?”
“Hmmm.”
He kisses your forehead.
“I know you’re sleepy, but just tell me if you’re okay. Nothing hurts or anything?”
“No, Rem, I feel great.” You smile up at him without opening your eyes. You can’t see him looking down at you like you’re the most precious person in the world. To him, you are. “’S like my whole body is sinking and floating at the same time.”
He chuckles adoringly and kisses you again, cuddling up beside you.
“Good.”
“Hmm.”
You’re sinking into sleep but whisper giddily, “Thanks for fucking me.” He barks a full laugh. As it quiets to back to his giggle, he brings his face to yours. He nuzzles your nose with his and kisses your cheek.
“Always happy to take care of my girl.” He kisses you again. “It was fun. Good for you? What you wanted?”
“Mmhmm,” you nod. “Just what I wanted.” You use what little energy you have left to shift closer to him. “Now I want your cuddles.”
“Always happy to take care of my girl,” he says again, more softly this time, as he wraps his arms around you snugly and kisses your forehead.
You settle into each other, and the rise and fall of his breathing, the graze of his petting fingertips are the last things you feel as you drift into sleep.
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。WONDER — AL-HAITHAM.
contents. fluff, mentions of al-haitham’s grandmother, hints at sensory sensitivities (neurodivergent al-haitham is canon to me), just thinking ab al-haitham perhaps not liking being grand sage at all but nothing is ever that bad as long as he has you, y’know?
“hey,” you murmur, sitting next to al-haitham. he hums, watching from the corner of his eye as you settle down. “kaveh said you’d be here. mind if i join?”
“no,” he mumbles, “never. as long as you didn’t bring kaveh.”
“i didn’t,” you roll your eyes, smiling.
al-haitham has come here since he was young—by the docks of sumeru city at night, feet dangling over the water. the first few times, grandmother had scolded him when he’d return—by the fifth, she’d resigned to letting him run off. it’s quiet—it’s still and peaceful, but not lifeless. for a while, it used to be a spot for him to just read. after some time, it becomes the one place he can relax when even being home is not enough to calm him.
“rough day?” you ask gently, rubbing over goosebumps on his exposed arm. his cloak keeps the other warm, safe from the night breeze as you sit by the water.
“yeah i guess,” he mumbles, “just overwhelming.”
“these didn’t help?” you ask sympathetically, tapping on the ear pieces over his head. he shakes his head, sighing as your fingers slip into his hair, stroking through the locks gently.
“couldn’t turn them on for most of the day anyway,” he mumbles, “had too many people coming up to me.”
“grand sage life’s not treating you well, huh?”
“not in the slightest,” he snorts—but it ends in a scoff, and there’s not much humor in his voice.
“well, you’re doing a good job,” you lean and kiss his jaw, hugging his arm, “for what it’s worth.”
“i didn’t want to take it,” he mumbles, “but no one’s qualified for the position right now. i didn’t….i can’t let anything happen again.”
al-haitham is kind—most people miss it. you can tell from the way he finds remorse in the way life is so complicated in sumeru, in the way most people can’t find peace even when they try. so he takes up the offer, even when he doesn’t want to—just so life doesn’t have to be even more complicated, even if just for a bit.
truthfully, you don’t think there’s anyone more capable of being grand sage than al-haitham. in fact, you think it’d be safest if it was him. but you also don’t think he could do it for too long, not when he hates it—the responsibility, the pressure, the authority. grandmother has always warned al-haitham of people who try to take advantage of the brilliant, of the burdens that come with being different.
it’s a gift, she’d tell him, but all gifts come with a cost. so he keeps a simple life, stays to himself and does nothing more than he needs to. it’s better that way, he realizes—but even so, he could never turn away when he’s needed, especially not when the whole nation is ready to crumble.
“you’ll find someone soon,” you hum, hand rubbing slow circles into his chest, “and then you’ll get demoted to scribe again. don’t worry, i’ll still love you the same.”
“because my salary will remain?” he teases lightly, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips—the first smile of the day, but not the last.
al-haitham trusts you with that—with making sure he smiles at least once a day, with making sure he falls asleep with a smile at the end of every night.
“well, as much as i love grand sage salary,” you chuckle, “i love you more—at least, i think,” you add the last part with a playful nudge. he laughs softly—the first laugh of the day. even if the laughter comes late, there’s something peaceful about ending the day that way.
maybe it’s not so bad, he thinks, maybe nothing is so bad when he has you to come back to before the moon leaves and takes the stars with her. as long as he ends the night with you, he supposes he doesn’t mind starting a new day all over again, even when it comes with new troubles.
“you only think you love me?” he asks, biting back an amused smile.
you shoot him an easy grin, “well, love is fickle, grand sage,” you tease, “who knows what it is for sure?”
it’s easy, you think quietly—it’s easy to define what it falling in love is like when al-haitham sits next to you, when he drapes his cloak over you, when you feel his heart beat under your palm, when you can see the tension ease from his shoulders the more he sits with you.
it’s always been easy, like it comes and goes as second nature.
“you know,” he says quietly, after a few moments, “when i was young, i asked grandmother what it felt like to be in love.”
you hum, staring at your feet as they dangle over the water, tapping your foot against his. he taps back, making you grin to yourself softly.
“oh really?” you raise a brow, “you thought about other things besides books as a kid?”
“i read all kinds of books,” he defends, “it’s good to be well rounded. i enjoy a romance here and there. besides, everyone wonders at one point,” he adds, “didn’t you?”
you smile at the thought of al-haitham reading something romantic, giggling quietly as your hand grabs his and weaves your fingers together. “i suppose i did wonder, yes. what’d she say?”
“she said i’d figure it out when i do fall in love,” he chuckles, “i wasn’t too happy with that answer.”
“i can imagine,” you say in amusement. “well? have you found your answer yet?”
he thinks for a moment, pondering if he has. he thinks about how he waits to have lunch late every day just to have it with you, how even with an empty stomach, he feels full to the brim when he sits down with you. he thinks about how he walks the long way home just to buy those sweets you like, how even if he’s tired, he’s never felt more alive than when you smile. he thinks about how he’s cold right now, how even when the cool air stings his skin, nothing is as cold as the way your touch is warm.
if love doesn’t feel like you, then al-haitham is inclined to believe he’s not made for love. it must to be you, he thinks, how could it not be?
“i think so,” he nods, squeezing your fingers with his.
“then do share, grand sage al-haitham,” you tap your foot against his again, swinging your legs as you shuffle closer to him. “what does it feel like to be in love?”
he turns, leaning down and stealing a soft, chaste kiss against your lips. “like that,” he grins, “wouldn’t you agree?”
i’m down so horrendously and embarrassingly bad for this guy what the fuck
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THE MILLERS 💖 - HALLOWEEN EDITION🎃
No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader
(This can be read as a Halloween 🎃 stand alone, or as a continuation of THE MILLERS 💖, that was also inspired by this post here)
Summary: Joel takes his son trick or treating on Halloween and you three spend a beautiful family moment together
Warnings: fluff, sweetness, Joel being the best dad in the world, sexual tension, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of breeding kink, allusions to smut
A/N: besties, I could go without boy dad!Joel, he's the perfect husband and dad to take our kid trick or treating, am I right? Enjoy it ❤️
2.4k words
The moment Joel woke up that Halloween morning, Sammy was already all around him, so excited and wanting to play, but not only that, he couldn't wait until the evening came and it was time for his daddy to take him trick or treating. Joel on the other hand, had so many things to do at work, but he had already told Tommy and the other guys he would leave early, because there was no way he was going to run late for such special occasion with his life, as not showing up at all due to work wasn't even a possibility to begin with.
You finished the scrambled eggs and served your husband a plate, Sammy played trucks on the living room carpet, he was never hungry in the morning, but he still ate a grape or two when you insisted on him too, but overall, all he wanted was to play and spend time with his daddy. Your heart was always swollen with pride to see how much your son loved his daddy and how similar they were. Joel was usually a tough man, but he was always so gentle and soft around his family, you knew you couldn't have chosen a better man to build a life with.
Your husband sipped his coffee as he let out a satisfied moan at the taste of your breakfast and gently placed his big hand on yours, caressing it gently as he looked into your eyes
"Is everything set for tonight? What about his costume?"
"If by everything set you mean your son talking about it non-stop for the past week, then yeah, everything's set" you tilted your head and stared at him, Joel was such a handsome man, his features were both gorgeous and attractive and if you really could choose, you would like to drag him back to your room and and sit on his lap, kissing Joel for as long as you wanted and make sweet love to him. It was funny how it always alternated between the two of you; sometimes you wanted it hard and fast, you wanted him to be rough and sometimes all you wanted was to move your bodies in sync as you stared into each other's eyes.
"I was hoping we could spend some alone time after trick or treating, you know…" you bit your lips and he picked the clue immediately, his hand left yours and went down the table, stroking your thigh very gently at first, even if his rough calloused hand didn't need much more than a ghostly touch to get you all worked up.
"Am I neglecting you, baby girl?" He raised his eyebrow and made you blush softly, at the same time you shook your head, Joel Miller would never neglect his woman and her needs, but he had been busy for the past few days, and with a small toddler at home, it was pretty much a miracle when the two of you were actually full of energy enough to fool around a little bit. His hand now squeezed your thigh, running it up and down and appreciating the effect he had on you; Joel Miller was an addiction to you, no matter if you'd been married for a few years and if you had a baby together, he was still the one you craved and desired the most in your life.
However, as life with toddlers wasn't easy at all, the moment you were ready to spice up a little bit, perhaps kissing his neck and nibbling his weak spot or casually resting your hand over his crotch, but tiny steps interrupted any flirting that was going on as your son's beautiful face lit up in a smile
"Daddy! Morning!!!" He cheered excitedly and rushed to his papa Joel, climbing his lap and getting comfortable. He eyed his dad's plate and tiny fingers stole some of his scrambled eggs and you chuckled, it wasn't about breakfast, it was about his dad's breakfast. Sammy loved his daddy with all his little heart and cherished every single minute he could spend with him, to which Joel also appreciated and did his best to make sure it happened very often.
Your husband chuckled and placed both hands on Sammy's tummy, holding him tight against his body and resting his chin on his head. His brown curls smelled so good, as you were always so careful with hygiene and you made sure to bathe your son every day. Sammy's hands rested over his dad's. The contrast between his tiny ones and his dad's big ones also made your heart clench. Your life was so good and a part of you feared it was just too good to be true. As Joel questioned Sammy about his costume, your son told him all about it. He was excited to go as an octopus, which surprised the both of you, you knew Sammy had taken an interest in sea animals after his uncle Tommy had let him watch 'Meg' in a very irresponsible move, your son seemed to be fascinated by such animals, so you assumed his chosen costume would be a shark, however, not long after he watched the movie, Sarah came home one weekend and made sure to take him to visit the aquarium and after that, your son seemed obsessed with sea animals. Apparently, octopuses were his favorite at the moment, judging by how frequently he drew them all over his sheets of paper. The fact that Sarah, Joel and uncle Tommy all bought him all sorts of illustrated magazines and books about sea animals, made him even happier. So when he told you about the costume, you had to drive around a little to find a good one, but when you did, your son was in love with what he was seeing. He was just so excited and happy, he wanted to wear it every single day and if you hadn't told him he should make his costume a surprise for his daddy Joel, you were sure he would've thrown a tantrum over not wearing the outfit every single day, but instead, he kept it a secret - and by secret he actually told his daddy every single detail of it - which very often made you and Joel laugh together.
When your husband announced he was going to work, your son sighed disappointed and Joel felt as if something pierced through his heart. He really needed to take a vacation some time soon, he couldn't handle seeing how upset his baby boy was each time he had to leave and also how much you missed him on a daily basis.
"Stay daddy, please…" he said with puppy eyes and you took his tiny hand
"Daddy has to work my angel, you know he would stay if he could, right? But he will be back soon and we will go trick or treating tonight, remember the pumpkins we carved? We'll light them up and they'll look so nice…" you told him and played with his curls, so he nodded obediently as Joel painfully had to put him down and walk to his truck.
You knew Joel would spend a lot more with you both if he could, but since it wasn't possible, you invited your son to run some errands with you in order to distract him until it was time to trick or treat.
•••
Your son was running happily through the backyard as he loved playing with the plushie tentacles of his costume. He was so excited to be finally dressed up for Halloween and the fact the street was slowly getting more and more illuminated by the all the pumpkins and decorations his little heart was racing like crazy out of excitement and expectation, but nothing, even compared to the moment he saw his daddy's truck parking in the driveway. He squealed the word 'daddy' at the top of his little lungs and rushed as fast as his legs allowed him to, the butterflies in his tummy being so much he even slipped and fell, unharmed, simply getting up on his own and jumping on Joel the moment his daddy opened his arms to welcome him in a tight embrace. Joel chuckled and wrapped his arms tightly around his boy, his sweet Sammy could look like him, physically, but he was all his mommy, his intelligence, his wit and that tooth rotting sweetness he could have only inherited from you.
"You look amazing, buddy!? You scared me for a while! I thought an octopus had invaded our garden" he tickled his son's tummy who giggled hysterically and wrapped his arms around his daddy's neck
"You're silly daddy" he giggled and smiled big once you walked to them, you hadn't properly dressed up, but you did throw a nice black outfit, some boots, a darker makeup and a witch hat
"You're so pretty mommy!" Sammy cheered and clapped his little hands and you pretended not to see your husband eying you up and down. You kissed your son's forehead and nodded
"Are you boys ready to go? Uncle Tommy says he'll stay in and hand candies to the kids…" you frowned as you tilted your head "Sammy… we have a problem, we can't go trick or treating without daddy putting on a costume" you winked at Joel who shot an annoyed look at you, but the moment his son agreed and began blabbering about how important it was that he got dressed, you chuckled and handed him a hockey mask.
"There you go, you already got the shirt and now the mask, now we can scare some little kids"
"More like scare dickheads who dare staring at your ass, darling" he leaned towards you and whispered into your ear, giving your neck a quick peck while Sammy ran to the front porch to grab his pumpkin-shaped basket of candy.
It wasn't the first time you three went trick or treating together, but the year before Sammy was still too little to understand it fully and enjoy everything that was happening, unlike that special evening you spent walking around the neighborhood with your family, it felt special, the kind of special you snapped a picture or two to keep it as a memory but not more than that, so you wouldn't be glued to your phone the entire time. Joel took your hand as Sammy walked a couple of meters ahead of you, his basket was full of candy and he cheered each time he found someone looking interesting or even scary, as he wasn't afraid at all.
Joel looked at you with soft eyes, removing his stupid mask
"You look gorgeous tonight, you know that?" He pulled you by the waist and smirked "once our little one falls asleep it's time for us to enjoy our Halloween and you're so damn teasing with this witch bitch costume I might just get you pregnant again"
"What?!" You widened your eyes at his words and couldn't help but let out a nervous laughter "another baby?"
Joel shrugged and kissed your lips
"Imagine a year from now, Sammy will be trick or treating with his baby sister, would you like that?" You take a deep breath, taking a look at him as you lick your lips
"Well… I don't know… would you like that?" You asked him, after hearing Joel call himself old over and over, complain about how he doesn't have energy to catch up with Sammy and how his back hurt, you assumed having a second baby was off the table. However, seeing his hopeful eyes, the way he looked at his and the way he looked at all the other kids, you could tell maybe he actually meant that.
"Do you think I'd joke about that? If I didn't want it, I wouldn't have mentioned it but if you don't want then it's fine, I mean, you're still young an-"
You interrupted him with a kiss, of course you wanted if he wanted, having a family with Joel Miller was the best decision you'd ever taken, there was no way you could pass that up.
"Mommy, daddy!" Sammy called the two of you, he was dragging his basket since it got so full he couldn't lift it up, you chuckled helping him with the candy as Joel lifted him up. You knew your son well enough to see he was already tired, no matter how hard he tried to fight sleep, rubbing his eyes was the only thing he could do as he rested against his dad's chest. Still falling asleep in Joel's arms, you both got home, Tommy was just finishing with the candy leftovers and widened his eyes the moment he saw Sammy's
"Really? Stealing candy from a two-year-old?" Joel raised his eyebrow annoyed at his brother, but you tugged his sleeve, showing him it was time to put Sammy in bed. He helped you take the costume off and it was alright if your son skipped showering for one night, he didn't even wait for dinner, but it was alright, because the next day he would eat a delicious big breakfast you made him and your husband.
As you and Joel went downstairs, he pulled you by the waist, sitting on the couch and taking you with him.
"Have you talked to Sarah?" You ask nuzzling his neck as you know how much he missed his daughter
"We video chatted during my lunchtime… she is very pretty and she was going to a party" he said with a hint of sadness in his voice, it was painful for him to see his little girl growing up so much, so you nodded and snuggled him. You placed your hand on his stomach, gently scratching down his belly as you pecked his cheek and then went for Joel's lips
"So your desire for a new baby was just because Sarah has grown up too fast or you actually wanna do it?" You asked him gently, his arm pulling you even closer as he shrugged
"I don't know… I want it but I'm also scared… it's a lot of trouble, it's a lot of money and Sammy is still so small, he needs us so much. But at the same time it's about having another little version of you, running around, playing and melting my old heart, I can't decide"
"You don't have to decide anything right now, Joel, but we could get started, couldn't we?" You whispered against his ear, to which he kissed you.
Joel wasn't very sure if he wanted another baby or not, but he was so happy to have you and Sammy in his life. He loved his little family with all his heart and there was nothing he could ask for other than live a world of happiness with the two of you.
____
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Hello :))))👋 just finished reading poly!ghoap angst and I had this idea...
Reader is always a happy person, she can laugh at anything but they just don't know her fake mask. Reader is a person who is mentally damaged and longs for affection because of her past (I still haven't thought about it), so the reader always takes a medicine called Happy Pill to feel happy (I think came up with this idea while reading your poly!ghoap angst and listening to the song Happy Pill.)
If you don't feel comfortable writing this, that's okay, I'm just sharing my ideas with you. I just love your poly!ghoap x reader angst. (And English is not my first language so I have to use google translate🥲 )
no worries! and thank you for the ask <3 it’s funny because i got sent this the same day i had to go pick up my anti depressants prescription after not taking them for almost a week ^^” so definitely relate to the happy pills LOL
you’ve always struggled with your mental health, it’s just something that comes with chronic depression. but it’s practically quadrupled in intensity since moving in with simon and johnny, especially since simon has it out for you. johnny only realises you have depression when you both run to the pharmacy to pick up johnny’s adhd medication, and you ask about the costs for having your sertraline being delivered to the apartment. his ears perk up, but he doesn’t say anything until you’re on the walk back home.
“sertraline, eh?” he says, his stocky hand wrapped around yours, swinging your arm gently as you two walk. you nod, biting the inside of your lip as you look away. “i, uh.. yeah. call ‘em my happy pills.” you jokingly say, eliciting a small squeeze to your hand from johnny. “i had no idea ye were takin’ em, lass. reckon i should remind ye that am always gonnae be here for ye, no matter what.” he replies, thick eyebrows raised as he beams over at you. this man will be the death of you.
when you head to your friend’s hen do, leaving simon and johnny to their own devices for the evening, johnny nuzzles up close to simon on the sofa as they watch a documentary. “did ya know that _____ takes antidepressants?” johnny says, glancing up at simon with raised eyebrows. simon just shrugs, not even bothering to tear his eyes from the telly. “none of my business.” simon gruffly replies, his bulky arm still wrapped around johnny’s shoulders. johnny hums in agreement, before the conversation dissipates.
simon doesn’t like you. he still doesn’t like you. but he’s not an idiot, he’s seen your dosage increase from 5mg to almost 40mg since you’ve moved in with them. he can’t help but feel particularly guilty about this, knowing he’s at least some what responsible for how your dosage has skyrocketed. perhaps he’ll lay off being a bastard to you for a couple of days.
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Utopia (Modern! Daemon Targaryen x female reader) (Non Canon AU) (18+)
Read chapter 8 here // Series Masterlist
Chapter 9
Summary: Daemon gives you the gift of a lifetime.
Warning: 18+ sex ,period sex (if it bothers you skip the scene) death and destruction that comes from a ship wreckage, smut, sex, menstrual sex, unprotected sex. Some inconsistency with ship sinking, i researched as much as I could
You were sitting in the office of the hiring manager of Casatopia, a popular five star hotel just outside London, it was closer to your house though and that's what you liked. Emma had asked Dalton to give your name for the vacant sous chef position so you decided to give it a try.
You couldn't just stay at home and miss Daemon like crazy when he wasn't around you, being at home all day long was driving you bonkers. The topia in the name made you feel slightly uneasy but you ignored the thought and decided to focus on the interview.
“So how was it at night ..over there?” Preston, the manager, asked you so you gave him a confused look, hoping that he would be able to provide you with a bit more context.
“I apologize I don't understand” you mumbled politely so he gave you a small smile.
“On the island I meant, I hope I'm not stepping on your boundaries, I'm just absolutely fascinated by your survival story” he said to you, his tone was gentle and filled with genuine curiosity.
Of Course he was curious. As soon as people recognised you this was how it went, perhaps you should consider scraping 'Worked as a sous chef on Queen Utopia' from your resume. You couldn't help but feel that it may not be the most professional topic to discuss at a job interview.
“It was tough but atleast I wasn't alone, I had someone who kept me sane there, there are people on this earth who have survived months with no one by their side so I'm grateful to not be alone in that situation” you mumbled politely as you understood where he was coming from.
Prior to your experiences on the ship and the island, you were one of those people who would read about survival stories and be amazed at what the survivors had accomplished. You always found it impossible to imagine yourself in such a situation and couldn't comprehend how someone could have the resilience and to make it through something like that.
That was, until you found yourself in a similar situation on the island, and your survival instincts began to kick in.
“Yeah I know..Daemon Targaryen, you lot are famous” You gave him a tight lipped smile as he said that.
A news article had picked up Lily's reddit post which had then reached the mainstream media. The backlash was brutal, but you and Daemon stood firm and refused to get caught up in the drama. You both knew that your love and appreciation for each other shouldn't have needed any justification after the traumatic event you both had been through. It should have been self-explanatory,
“Alright you're hired” he said to you so you furrowed your brows as he didn't really ask anything about your work experiences.
“You don't want to know anything about my capabilities or -” he interrupted you before you could even finish your sentence.
“Dalton told me enough..i just wanted to meet you if I'm being honest”
Were you getting some sort of hero privilege because of your suffering? You weren't sure if you enjoyed being favored like this or not. The attention you received was overwhelming and at times made you feel uncomfortable, especially when it seemed like people were looking at you as some kind of hero rather than a regular human being who just happened to have survived a traumatic experience when there really wasn't any other option.
“Our live band quit on us a few days ago and we are looking for a band again, though i have connected with the manager already, i hope The Dragonriders would accept the job”
You sighed as he said that and you were going to politely decline the job offer but then he passed you the salary slip and you accepted it almost immediately, it was more than you could have ever imagined.
Later that day as you reached home after that weird interview session, there was a text from Daemon, he was supposed to meet you at your place..
You grabbed a few things and called a cab to make way to his place. He had given you a key to his house for emergencies purposes and normally you'd just knock but you decided to make use of the key this time, as you knew that Daemon was in pain and likely resting in bed.
As you entered his bedroom he was laying on the bed with his head squished into the pillow so you climbed into the bed and wrapped your arm around him, as soon as he felt your touch his arm circled around your waist and he placed his head between the crook of your neck. His eyes were bloodshot red, his face was warm to the touch as well, he seemed flushed and even though he was in misery at the moment you couldn't help but notice how pretty he looked like this.
“Let me take care of you ok..did you take your pill?” You asked him softly as you scratched his scalp so he barely groaned in response.
“I'll be right back okay?” you got up from the bed, turning off all the lights in the room, as you knew how sensitive Daemon was to bright lights. You brought out the candles you had packed with you and began lighting them, casting a warm soft glow around the room. You then made your way to the kitchen to fetch a bowl of ice water and a wet cloth. Once everything was ready, you returned to Daemon's room and gently tapped his shoulder to get his attention so he scooted closer and placed his head on your lap.
Dipping the cloth in the icy cold water you placed it on his forehead and he sighed as he felt the cooling sensation, he opened his eyes to look at you for a moment, his lips curved into a faint smile before he closed his eyes again and allowed you to do your thing.
He had never had anyone caring about him like this, this was one of those things that made him feel closer to you on the island and he had come to realize how precious you actually were inside out.
And now your value in his life was something nobody else would ever be able to replicate or replace.
During his migraine attacks the most Lily ever did for him was that she'd sing at times and not that he was going to compare you two, he appreciated her efforts too but you just did it differently, you took care of him in ways he always wanted to be cared for.
He laid there quite for what felt like hours and as the burning pain gradually subsided, he took your hand and kissed it lovingly before he asked you to stop, he just wanted to hold you now and cuddle the night away.
“Emma found us a gig” he mumbled so you sighed in response. You were well aware of the gig.
“She found me a job as well at Casatopia” you said to him so nodded in acknowledgement. He already knew about that.
“Fate” he muttered softly so you pecked on his lips.
“It's giving me deja vu.. doesn't it feel weird to you that we'd be working again at the same place, in the hospitality industry no less? And there's literally topia in the name?”
He pulled away a little as you said that, he wasn't really thinking about it until you pointed it out.
“Are you worried something awful is going to happen again?” he asked you with concern evident in his voice.
“Yeah..what if the hotel burns down or explodes? Or something” you mumbled, your voice held a sense of foreboding.
“That's not going to happen sweetheart..you can't go about your life living in such fear but that is not to say that your fears are not valid, they truly are ..but no matter what happens I'll find you like you have found me..i promise okay?” he reassured you gently and you couldn't help but smile at that. The trauma was indented into you so deeply but with him by your side life was so much easier to deal with.
“Are you feeling okay now?” You asked him so he hummed in response,
“I'd feel much better if you'd ride me right about now” he gave you a mischievous smirk so you tapped on his cheek lightly.
“Dirty boy” you mumbled as you climbed on top of him and immediately unbuttoned his pants. Sometimes you both needed this quick raw fuck where no foreplay was a necessity or required, you just wanted to feel him inside you and he was more than eager to spill into you as fast as you could make him.
“Would you keep your schedule clear for the next week?” he asked you so you looked at him curiously.
“The whole week? I'm starting that job..”
“Can you talk to them and start a week later?” He mumbled as his breath hitched in his chest when you sunk down on him,
“Normally it would have seemed impossible but considering that manager is such a fan of ours I think I can manage” you chuckled softly and that made him smile too.
“Mmmm the trauma has its perks huh?”
You rode him very slowly at first as you just wanted to feel him in there, your fingers worked the buttons of his shirt and then you leaned down to suck on his neck before you lowered your mouth and pressed kisses on his bare chest.
“What are you planning?” You whispered in his ear so he gave you a smile.
“I'm taking you somewhere sweetheart”
“I can't ask where?”
He shook his head as you said that.
“It's a surprise”
“Alrighty”
Next day while Daemon was rehearsing with the band you sat down in front of the tv and received a surprising albeit not really shocking news, you had a feeling that Danny had something to do with the ship sinking incident and you were proven right.
He had come out in the open to tell that he had inadvertently left the cargo hatch open on the lower deck because he was distracted by something and someone, which allowed water to enter and resulted in the sinking, when he had realised it was too late to fix it. His video had received a million views where he was seen crying and apologizing because he couldn't bear the guilt of it anymore.
Even though Danny hadn't directly implicated Lily in his statement, you couldn't shake the feeling that her involvement was still tied to the tragedy because she had sent that voicemail that night to Daemon mentioning Danny and you had seen Danny at her house that night.
As you watched the news, you found yourself at a loss for words. How could Danny have made such a devastating mistake, especially when so much was at stake? The consequences of his actions were unfathomable, and you couldn't help but feel a mixture of anger, sadness, and frustration bubbling up inside you.
People had lost their lives, families had been torn apart, and all because of one person's negligence.
You felt enraged because he was the reason why you had to suffer for so long on that Island, all of this for what?
All you felt in that moment was resentment and anger towards Lily and Danny, that night when he looked into your eyes you didn't understand that look he gave you but now you knew it was probably guilt.
Given the severity of the situation, it was likely that he was going to get charged with manslaughter and his life was ruined, that was given.
When you saw Daemon that day he seemed lost too so you just wrapped your arms around him and hugged him tightly to comfort him.
“Did she ever tell you about this?”
You asked him as you pulled away so he shook his head lightly,
“I can't make sense of it…how could you be involved in something like that and then..she must have known that ship would sink and she didn't even try to warn us or— i -” you rubbed his shoulders with your fingers to comfort him as you heard his voice breaking, he was at loss of words as well, same as you but it was more difficult for him because Lily was involved.
“You spend years with someone and you think you know who they are but I.. didn't know her ..at all. How could I have been in love with her if I didn't know her like that?” his eyes teared up as he questioned you so you cupped his cheeks and kissed his forehead.
“It's not that easy.. love is complex..you can't put it in a box like that Daemon..you loved her but honestly she never deserved your love”
He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer as you said that, until now he had never heard you saying anything against Lily even when she gave you every reason to do so but now he understood your resentment as he felt the same way about it. He resented her now especially because ever since he had returned all she had tried to do was possess him again, she didn't care what he had gone through and she definitely didn't care that she was one of the reasons why that had happened to him.
He really thought that perhaps with time a friendship could develop between them again but this revelation had changed that for him. He didn't want her in her life anymore, he didn't want to be around her in any form.
A week later you were packing for that surprise trip and Emma offered to help you with that,
“Where is he taking you?” She asked you so you shrugged in response as you didn't know yourself where he was taking you. This was his big surprise.
“He won't say anything..I was hoping he had spilled something to Aemond or Cole-”
“Nahh Aemond would have told me”
You nodded as she said that, the next morning he picked you up in the earliest and as you reached the dock with him your blood ran cold so he took his seat belt off and grabbed your hand.
“I need you to trust me, okay? Can you?” he asked you softly so you gulped in nervousness.
“Are we.. going on a boat ride?” your voice shook as you spoke so he nodded,
“It's going to be ok..I'll take care of you I promise.. I just ..just trust me please”
You cupped his cheeks as he said that. The ocean terrified you, anything to do with ships or boats scared you but you wanted to trust him because you had a feeling this was something really important to him and you had a feeling wherever he was taking you would only bring you happiness because he was certain of it.
As you boarded the high-speed boat, the churning waters and the speed at which the vessel was traveling brought back memories so you spent most of the time being in the deck with Daemon,
Apart from you two there were two trained operators who were going to drive you both towards the destination, you noticed how the boat was equipped with everything you'd ever need in the case of an emergency. Plenty of rations, clothes and other necessities were available.
“How much did you spend on this?” You asked him softly as you both were cuddling on the bed so he gave you a smirk.
“You don't have to worry about that..I wanted to do this for both of us”
He was being so cryptic and mysterious and perhaps you'd have felt wary of a man's intentions but it was Daemon, your cavemon and if there was something you knew about that man then it was the fact that he'd never hurt you or harm you in anyways.
With Daemon by your side the time always seemed to race so approx two days later as you finally reached your destination he put a blindfold over your eyes and asked you to not try to peek until he said so.
You couldn't help but giggle, his excitement was infectious.
He wrapped his arms around your waist as he guided you off the boat and as soon as he put you down you felt the warm sand beneath your feet and let out a literal gasp.
“Daemon–” your voice came out in a whisper and as you inhaled the air, your eyes widened.
You didn't even have to guess anymore as you recognized the scent of your surroundings immediately. You had spent six months here after all.
You were back on the island, the island that had saved your life in a way and brought the love of your life closer to you.
The uninhabited island that was now owned by Daemon Targaryen and had a name now. Utopia- a place where everything was perfect.
❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
Note: There will be an epilogue for this to sum it up. But this was all I had to tell about Mr Cavemon and his brave girl that risked everything for him. Hope my lovely few readers had enjoyed this story 🥺
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A/N: Wow, just yeah. I know it's been a long while since I posted for Peter, but like I promised, I was working on things for him and here it is! Now, I'll crawl back into my cave until my next writing is ready. As always let me know what you guys think and enjoy!
Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence
Word Count: 6.4K+
Time is a fucking thief. Really, it is. Waking up with the rising of the sun, getting ready to go to a job you despised, remaining in a windowless cubicle for eight hours, making dinner, then time to sleep again. Watching the clock as each passing minute was taken from you over and over again. Now when you throw being a superhero into the mix, it makes it even worse.
Holding down relationships, careers, any and all of the important things in life were always seemingly snatched away when it came to the personal life of crime fighting vigilante Spider-Man. That’s why when you entered his life it was like getting another opportunity to engage with time he had never experienced before.
Looking forward to coming home and eating dinner, stopping by on patrol nights to give you a goodnight kiss no matter what, to Peter Parker, he would do everything in his power to devote as much time as he possibly could to you.
Perhaps you were the time thief in his life now. Either way he didn’t mind when it came to you.
Were there times when it just simply wasn’t possible to shovel all of his waking energy towards you? Of course! The problems came when it had been that way for months. Yeah, you read that right.
In the span of four months, Peter had become so ravaged with his other entities responsibilities that his time with you was drastically rescinded. Unanswered text messages for days, not a peep from him for a week at a time, no more windowsill kisses. It was like he had vanished into thin air.
You understood at first. Hell, you had been dating the man for three years! What was happening, though, was unlike anything he had ever dealt with before. A group of men, identities undisclosed, were wreaking havoc throughout New York City. For months on end, like clockwork, every other week a crime would occur.
Each more gruesome than the last.
Peter had never really been on a deadline like this. Knowing that with each ticking second it was growing closer to the next attack. Spending all nights on the streets, trying to spot whoever could be responsible for this.
The worst part was that he had no leads. A few locations that were all pointless distractions. No semblance of an inkling as to who was committing all of these atrocities. In the span of time since their starting, over eight lives had been taken. A mind boggling number for such a short span of time.
Police were just as useless and he had decided to not take up any more time than necessary with them in tow simply because they weren’t taking this as seriously as they should have been. Instead of confronting the public, reminding them to be careful and not to wander alone past sunset, they were sweeping it under the rug.
Not wanting to cause a public disturbance. No need to fear monger they had told Spider-Man. Assuring him that all of those victims were tied to a gang in one way or another and it was criminal activity work. Something that he shouldn’t spend too much time dwelling on.
That was not a good enough answer for Peter. He didn’t believe them. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure it was a group behind all of this. It could have been a serial killer that was on one hell of a spree.
There was no pattern with their victims either. Randomly selected from the streets. What you didn’t understand was why Peter was involved with all of this. Of course, you knew he wanted to do all in his power to save as many lives as he could, but you warned him to be careful after the initial police warning.
Sticking his nose in places it didn’t belong was not going to end well. It had been the first time you two had argued to that extent. Shouting at the top of your lungs you weren’t ready to lose him and that’s what you were afraid was in the works.
He called you silly for thinking such things. That you needed to have more faith in him than you were giving. It still didn’t answer why he was so invested in this. You knew there were details he was purposely not giving you. Maybe he didn’t want to frighten you or maybe he thought you wouldn’t be able to handle it, but to you, you were a partnership, a pair.
All you wanted was to have Peter back around. Who knows, you might be able to actually help him if he came to you and showed you what he did and did not have. Instead, he hid it from you. Becoming cold and aloof. Distant and consumed.
If there was something you knew about Peter it was that he did not like being bested. Truly holding himself to a standard that was near impossible. Knowing he was above average intelligence, to put it lightly, when people tried outsmarting him, it was always a humorous effort. No one bested Spider-Man.
This time, they were.
Following that night of your monstrous bickering, you hadn’t seen or heard from Peter in over a week. Honestly, you weren’t making much of an effort yourself. Having no interest in being around him when he was in a head space like this. Knowing that there really was no way to help him if he presented nothing to you.
Peter on the other hand was not okay with you going dark on him. Despite knowing that the clock was dwindling down before their next attack, it was the first time in weeks you had been at the forefront of his mind. The little voice in the back of his head was telling him he needed to smooth this over with you or he would regret it.
Which is why he was climbing into your living room window with a bouquet of your favorite flowers, opting to take the night off even though it could be a crucial turning point. He ended up convincing himself it would be alright because if he didn’t have a direction to go in an hour before arriving at your apartment, then hunting tonight was pointless.
He didn’t have a direction.
Even though you hadn’t spoken to Peter, your thoughts were consumed by him as well. What was the bit of information he wasn’t giving you? Was there even anything he was leaving out? There could be the slim possibility he had actually divulged all he knew to you. But you knew better than that. Peter was hiding something, you just couldn’t figure out what it was.
The notes.
Discovered next to each of the victims he had come across. Given he was the only individual to find them and when he tried bringing it to the attention of the police, they had shrugged him off. They were trying to get to him.
Sheets of white printer paper, the typical horror movie fashion of assembly. Varying letters from magazines, newspapers, old letters, all taped and pasted on the paper in a note. Each one was different, but told in a fashion of a word problem. Some were like riddles.
Either way, with each new victim that appeared, so did a new note. It was one of the things he dreaded the most. Seeing what possibly innocent person had been selected in order to deliver the paper to him. His stomach turned just at the thought of it.
Tonight was not for that, though. Instead he chose to bury it in the back of his brain and spend some much needed time with you. So why weren’t you home?
If there was one thing Peter knew and loved about you was that you were a schedule person. Totally type-a, your day planned to perfection and given it was just after six o’clock that evening, you should’ve been in the kitchen plating your dinner.
Except, there was no you in the kitchen, there was no music or television playing in the background, it looked as though nothing had been touched all day. Until he stepped further into the kitchen.
When his eyes darted over to the corner of your counter, partly covered by your fridge, he froze. There it sat. An uneaten bowl of cereal. The milk on the counter next to it, the cereal box still opened and there.
As he approached it, observing the contents, you hadn’t even gotten a spoon out yet. It was filled to the brim, more so than you would’ve liked, but given it hadn’t been touched some of the cereal had inflated from the milk.
“Bug?” His voice, calm and collected echoed out into the quiet flat. Finally prying his eyes away from the alarming sight he had just seen, he was stumped. Everything else in the living room and kitchen was exactly as it should have been.
Maybe you were running late this morning and didn’t realize until after you had made your breakfast. Yes, of course! That’s exactly what it was.
Peeking into your bedroom, his heart rate decreased, a sense of relief and ease settling over him at the entirely bogus reasoning he had used to calm himself down. Until the most unusual sight of all was spotted.
Your phone sitting soundly on your nightstand, still connected to the charger. His hand rubbed at his closed eyes, trying to will his breathing to return to a normal rate. Tapping the screen, it lit up with dozens of texts. Some from Peter, some from coworkers, a few missed calls from work.
Never would you ever forget your phone. Never would you ever not put the cereal back in its place. Something was wrong.
His trembling hands removed his own phone from his pocket, before entirely losing any semblance of sanity, he dialed your boss’s number. It picked up on the third ring and Peter did his best to sound as normal as he could.
“Hey, Guy! It’s Peter Parker,” he was instantly cut off by his chipper voice on the other end. “Peter! How the heck are you?” He sighed, a shaky laugh escaping him. “Great, great. I just have a quick question for you,” as Peter asked if you had made it into work today, Guy responded fast.
“No, actually she didn’t today or yesterday. Didn’t even call. It’s not like her at all. I think a few of her team members tried texting her and didn’t hear from her either. Everything okay?” It was the worst thing he could have been told at that moment.
Clearing his throat, he tried to remain calm. “Mhm, yeah, yes. She’s just, uh, very sick. It might be a few days before she’s well enough to get back to the office. I didn’t call earlier because I wasn’t sure if she had or not.”
Guy’s laugh of relief was palpable. “Whew, thank goodness! Okay, well tell her to rest up and we’ll see her when she’s all better.” Thanking him and quickly ending the call, Peter tore your apartment upside down.
Any clues he could think of, any sign of forced entry, anything at all. But there was nothing. It was all still in the pristine condition it had been left in. Not a single thing out of the ordinary despite the two big red flags. Even going through every app on your phone, just in case, but it was fruitless.
Alarm bells were chiming in his head, he knew something was wrong. He knew you were in some sort of danger. He collapsed on your couch, wracking his brain for anything that could have given him something to work with.
Then he saw it. Out of the corner of his eye. A small piece of white paper stuck to the tongue of a running shoe you never wore. Turned on its side. He couldn’t remember if he had knocked it over during his rushed search of your apartment, but as he picked it up, his blood turned to ice.
Taped to the shoe were the letters he dreaded seeing. Had been haunting him in his sleep for weeks. When he could sleep that was. Unlike the others, it was almost a clue as to where to go next. His eyes quickly saw the time and knew they were going to strike again soon. Far too soon.
One step forward, three steps back, find her quick before she’s the next attack
It was an anger unlike anything he had ever felt before. Not when his parents had died, not when uncle Ben died, it was so overpowering, Peter truly didn’t know how to control it. Darting out of your window, knowing he was on limited time, he began his search.
A near pointless search. A pill that was hard to swallow. Knowing the chances of actually finding you were so slim. He had the list in the back of his mind, places he had scouted previously that he knew they had used at one point or another.
That was the only thing he could think to do. Which is exactly what he did. Searching one by one individually, spending no more than thirty seconds to one minute at each location before going down the list. Did he destroy some of those places during his searches? Absolutely.
He only grew angrier with each location he arrived at that you weren’t in. His hope was running out. Knowing he was at the last two possible places you could be at that he knew about. It was an abandoned warehouse by the river. The first place he had ever tracked them to, but it was far too late when he made his discovery. They had been out of there for over a week by the time he found it.
They were always just a few steps ahead of him and it drove him mad. His masked face searched the premises from what he could see. Through one of the partly shattered windows, there appeared to be a figure on the far end of the building.
A single light shining on them, their back facing where Peter stood. Sitting in a chair, only a wisp of a shadow, no identifying features to be made out. Assuming it was going to be a fight he was about to step into, Peter broke the remainder of the window and launched himself in.
Eerily silent. No noise in the entire building apart from the howling wind outside. It was beginning to become mid-fall in the city and it was always your favorite time of year. No one was enjoying the crisp autumn air that evening.
It was unbearably stuffy in there. No fresh air had swept through the place in years. The stale scents made that abundantly clear. Peter hesitantly approached the figure, the lighting just so he couldn’t make anything out until only a few hundred yards away.
The minute he saw the tied hands behind the back of the chair, his heart soared. “Bu-bug!” His voice shouted, relief flowing off of him in waves, but they came crashing down just as fast.
He wasn’t even sure if it was you. Incredibly deformed from obvious beatings, your face was swollen, bruised, and bloody like he had never seen before. The zip tie around your wrists had cut into the skin, pieces of flesh hanging from it.
As he looked down, the sticky floor was a deep crimson, continuing to pool from your countless open wounds. No shoes were on your feet, they too were cut and dangling from your seated position, totally limp.
He wasn’t entirely sure what was in your mouth as a makeshift gag, but whatever it was had been there so long, your skin was raw and bruised around it. It was the first thing he removed and as he did, your chipped teeth entered his view.
A blanket was draped over you that was covered in things Peter did not even want to begin to imagine. It was the next thing he went to remove, but he halted the moment it was off your body.
There, stapled to your bare chest, was his next note. The same haunting letters, covered in either your own or someone else’s blood. Based on the missing fingernails, he assumed it was a fight you had given which made him silently pray it was someone else’s, yours already spilled too much.
It took him a second longer than he realized to see that your toes were mainly all facing the wrong way. Your arms bruised from newly broken bones, legs in the same condition.
His trembling voice was the first thing you heard as he cut the tie from your hands, whimpers and choked cries trying to escape your hoarse throat. Immediately going limp, Peter caught you. Your body was convulsing in ways he had never seen, unable to open your eyes and see that Peter had found you.
His tears made heavy tracts on his sweat riddled skin. His gloved hands smoothed over the inflamed sections of your face. “I’m-I’m here bug, I got you. I found you, baby. I got you, okay? It’s okay now, baby.” Despite knowing how difficult and incredibly painful his next actions were going to be, he had to get you out of there.
Medical attention was the only way you were going to be able to survive. That meant Peter was going to have to carry you to the hospital. No possibility of emergency services being able to get to you before it was too late.
He was right. Had he waited for emergency services you would have died. You had been in the hospital for three weeks now. Finally in a state where you were fully conscious, despite the pain that never subsided, you were doing better than everyone thought.
It was unclear how long you had been in their “care” before Peter had found you. Based on the little memory you had from the snatching, it was assumed you had been with them for at least forty-eight hours, possibly more.
Peter hadn’t left your side since. Growing tired of hearing the nurses and doctors praise Spider-Man for having found you and saving you when he did. Hardly. He had hardly saved you.
In fact, this was his fault. It was the conclusion he had made. His careless and reckless behaviors had led them straight to you. He hadn’t spoken to you in a week and look what they had done. They thought they had killed you. There hadn’t been another attack yet. It meant nothing though.
No, the note left for him said otherwise. You’ve made it three steps back, how long until the grand final act?
Peter was frightening you. Since you had been awake and aware of what was happening, he had hardly spoken to you. The deep purple bags under his eyes were only growing worse, skin a sickly gray you had never witnessed in a human before, face hollowing out from lack of rest and food.
All he did was write in his notebook.
Curled up in a chair, he stared at the pages for hours on end. Occasionally writing and scribbling in it. His eyes never rested, constantly darting around the pages. It had been weeks of this. Total silence from him, not sure how to talk to him when he was like…this.
It was another late night in the hospital, having drifted in and out of painful sleep all day. Based on the lack of staff and visitors present, you assumed it was the middle of the night. The hospital floor just outside your door was quiet. An easy night for the staff, you thought.
Trying to figure out how to eat a pudding cup, one of the only things you could keep down, was your current task at hand. The tv playing with hardly any sound, it being the only main light in there, Peter silently re-reading whatever was in that book. That was the current mood of your room.
Eating was difficult. Only having three working fingers on your non-dominant hand, luckily one being your thumb, you struggled to pick up the spoon, also knowing you couldn’t move your arm to bring the spoon to you or bend over to get closer to consume anything. Just trying to move to secure the spoon in your mangled fingers had you on the verge of tears, losing your breath along the way.
You could do nothing without help. Not wanting to ask Peter for any assistance because of how poor his mood was. That was where you two currently sat with one another. Scared to speak to him more than absolutely necessary. Hardly speaking since being here.
His eyes briefly glanced at you before realizing what you were trying to do, throwing his notebook onto the side table. “Hey, hey, hey! What are you even trying to do, bug?” His voice was soft, a slight laugh in his voice, exhaustion evident with each word spoken. Taking the spoon from your hand, he pulled his chair closer to the bed, beginning to bring it to your lips.
It was silent until your eyes darted back at the book, deciding to take a leap. “Whatcha writing?” Your cracked, gravelly, and weak voice echoed through the silent room.
It made him want to revert to a blind rage attack. Your voice that was usually so full of life and excitement. Strong and loud that could command an entire room with only a few words. Now, he could hardly hear you, understand you, look at you. Jaw clenching at the question, his teeth grinded together.
When he closed his eyes, he saw visions of you beaten in that warehouse, left for dead. The immense pain you had been suffering through ever since then. Scars that would never fade, both physically and mentally meant he couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat. Not until he found them.
Your face was doing better, still black and blue, but healing. Able to open your eyes and look at him despite the popped blood vessels. Bandages littered every inch of your skin, wrists tightly wrapped with special medicine for the skin loss.
“Notes,” he murmured, eyes darkening as you asked your question, obviously not wanting to speak about it more. Changing the topic as your pudding came to an end, his hand brushed through your hair, knuckles lightly brushing against your cheek. “What do you need? Anything?”
It was silly. A simple question to see if you really did need anything. It didn’t stop the tears from hurriedly falling down your face. “Yo-you, Peter. I need you. I don’t know where you’ve been, but it hasn’t been here with me. I feel like I’m healing on my own. Like you’re not even here. You sit in that chair, staring at that notebook for days on end. You’ve hardly looked at me, spoken to me, listened to me. Please, just come back to me. Please, Pete.” It was borderline begging, but months of pent up frustration had broken the dam.
Peter’s heart continued to crack with each additional word you said. Realization of what he was doing to you, slamming into him all at once. He nodded, chin resting on one of the side rails, sniffling himself. “I’m here, bug. Whatever you need. I’m so sorry.”
Your only non-fully broken hand you extended towards him, wincing in pain from the movement. Scared to touch you, he only placed your hand back down, removing the side rail to get as close as possible to you.
The rest of the night, you two sat chatting ,watching whatever movies you wanted. It was a glimpse at the man you had seemingly lost all those months ago. Peter was back.
You were released from the hospital just shy of a week later. Peter’s plan to nurse you back to health was his moving in with you. While it was just supposed to be while you recovered, you two ended up enjoying it so much, he was now permanently living there.
It felt like your relationship was shooting by leaps and bounds, spending time together like you had never experienced before. Him being there when you went to bed at night and his face being the first thing you spotted when your eyes opened was a treat you didn’t know you needed.
Feeling content, cared for, respected, and loved like never before. Peter admitted, with your confession to him in the hospital about how distant he had become, tore him apart. He had never seen you moved to tears in such a way, especially over him.
He didn’t realize how deep he had been sucked in until that moment. From then on, Peter swore to keep his other persona on the sidelines for a bit whilst you healed and needed him. Did that mean he was going to stop being Spider-Man in the meantime?
Of course not. It meant that side of him was reserved for the span of time from when you fell asleep to about forty minutes before you would wake up in the morning. Absolutely clueless as to the fact that he had been out all night.
Hunting. Stalking. Tracking.
It was the first night in which you didn’t need him to help lay you down in bed. Peter knew his sleep schedule was already fucked, each time his eyes would drift shut all he could see was you strapped to that chair, nearing death.
And the fact that he hadn’t caught them.
Keeping him up at night, when he could sleep it was plagued by nightmares. Peter knew that there was no opportunity for him to rest while these scumbags were still wandering the streets, looking for another prey to select for their sick games.
Which is why he was doing this without you knowing. Not wanting to worry you and cause you further stress. No, Peter could do this. Would do this. Had to do this. He had made amazing moves. Truly spectacular given the place he had been stuck in before.
They had no idea he had found them, watched their every move, plotted what he was going to do to them. Honestly, when he first spotted one of the three he had discovered had been involved in your…incident, it took every ounce of strength he had to not murder the man right then.
He had to remind himself that all he had to do was provide some patience and the reward would be unlike anything he imagined. And imagine he did.
It was what plagued his thoughts every single day as he watched you hobble around such short distances that only offered pain and tiredness from. His eyes would drift over your still bruised skin as he helped you bathe and it was like witnessing it all over again.
Your hand would tip his chin up, forcing him to lock eyes with you. It was nearly impossible to not see the sadness and hurt in his eyes. Disappointed in himself for letting this happen to you. It didn’t matter because what had happened was now in the past and all you were looking forward to was healing.
The emotional and traumatic scars left on you were not easy to mask. Perhaps that was another reason why Peter was so furious as well. If he moved too quickly behind you, you jumped and a small scream would follow. Trembling for upwards of an hour before settling down. Peter would have to tell you small things to gather your thoughts.
Feel my hand? I`m right here, bug. Here, I want you to use the remote and put on whatever you want. You feel the couch under you? You’re home, baby. You’re safe.
If it weren’t for Peter, you weren’t sure what you would do. He was your rock, your other half, offering reason for unreasonable thoughts. He was your Peter.
The rain was pattering against the window, a sort of white noise you weren’t expecting tonight, but were grateful for it nonetheless. It helped you drift off to a dreamless sleep, exhaustion from trying to do some basic things today taking too much out of you.
Peter was already out of the house before he knew you were soundly asleep. He couldn’t risk being late. Tonight was the night.
Weeks of following them, understanding and breaking their odd patterns, he watched as they went according to plan perfectly. A construction sight for a new high rise. This was their new rendezvous sight for the next attack.
There wouldn’t be another attack.
Counting silently in his head, as he saw a flicker of a small light near the top floor, his count was perfect. They entered exactly on schedule. Crawling down the side of the building and using the thunderstorm to his advantage, he shattered a window a few floors up.
There was no other way that he knew of other than how they had entered and that was far too risky as they had all other doors blocked. As he slowly descended the staircase to scout the floor and determine which room they were in, his hair stood on end as a voice hit his ear.
Three of them. All there. The monsters who were behind your attack. Simply waiting for him.
Except, they didn’t know they were waiting for him. No, tonight was a setup night. Preparation for the coming days of their next plan. Peter had determined fairly early on it was not going to be their final act like they had claimed.
The door was kept slightly ajar with a cinder block, no handles on them yet meaning if it closed, there was no way out for them. Which was their plan for their next victim. Leave the poor soul trapped here with no means of getting out alive.
Peter’s skin was crawling, every instinct shouting at him to just do it. End them now. It would be so easy. He shook off those thoughts, knowing his plan was the correct one.
He dropped to the floor behind them, one of them catching him out of the corner of their eye, a smirk taking over his face. “Spidey boy finally found us, boss.” The thick accent made him hard to understand. Peter kept silent. Very silent.
The other two turned to face him, matching looks on their hideous faces. “How’s your girl? You otta be more careful next time or she could get seriously hurt.” A chuckle escaped them. Peter still didn’t move, watching them from a few paces away.
Quickly deciding they weren’t a fan of the silent treatment, the largest man in the center who Peter knew to be their ringleader drew his gun. In the blink of an eye, web flew towards the gunman, pinning the weapon to the wall behind him.
“Come on now, you didn’t think I knew what you have on you? Just like how I know tweedledee over here is about to throw a knife at me,” Peter ducked out of the way as the blade hurdled towards him. “Now how about we all play nice and introduce ourselves?”
An over exaggerated sigh escaped Peter’s lips as the three men darted towards him, but he acted quickly, webbing them to the surrounding walls, letting one approach him to fight him. “Guess not. Okay, then. I guess I’ll be the one making the rules tonight then.”
Peter grabbed the three chairs from one of the corners of the room before leisurely strolling towards the door and pushing the cinder block from the opening. He whistled a made up tune as he removed them one by one, webbing them to the seats to the point of them not being able to move an inch.
“You know, it’s such a shame sometimes that I wear this mask because I would love you guys to see how big of a smile I have right now. Scouts honor, I am overjoyed that we finally get to do this!” He took his own seat directly across from them.
His head scanned them before pointing at the one on the right. “Let’s start with you bumblebee. What’s your name?” His black and yellow striped shirt was what appointed him his nickname. “You think we’re going to talk? I have nothing to say.”
Peter nodded at his words before looking at the other two. “Same goes for you two then, I assume?” When they didn’t respond, instead only seeing spit hurl towards him, he dropped his head, shaking it. “Such a shame. Alright, last chance. Just give me a name.”
Silence.
A shrug. “It brings me no joy to resort to this, fellas. I’m truly not a violent person. I pride myself on being as gentle as I can be. " He began pacing around, his chair discarded behind him now. “Igor, Viktor, Sasha.” He pointed at each of them individually as he divulged their names.
He gave himself a small satisfactory pump into the air at his success. He could tell he was correct by the little one on the lefts eyes growing slightly wider. It was just the start. As Peter continued on, he got tiny tidbits of information. Only when he presented to them what he knew. Which at this point was everything.
Names, date of births, addresses, spouses, children, education records, dental records, you name it, Peter had it. It still wasn’t enough to get them talking like how he wanted. Instead, Peter fell into the second part of his plan earlier than he had expected.
With seven toes, five fingers, three teeth, many beatings, and an ear, they were beginning to squeal. The leader, Igor, was suspended from the ceiling by his bound hands submerged in webbing. He was entirely nude, body cut up in ways that had blood spilling from him ferociously.
Viktor was webbed entirely to the floor, his entire body covered in fluid despite only one singular nostril. He was the one who cracked first which Peter expected after his reaction to his grandmothers home address in his tiny village in his home country. It was quickly discovered that he was mainly an action man, simply doing what he was told, not a mastermind of any sort.
The other one, Sasha, was who most of the beatings had gone towards once Viktor had divulged it was him who had mainly been the culprit in your beating. Webbed to the wall with no chance of escape, Peter mimicked all the injuries you had sustained on him and then some. Just missing a few fingers and toes now as well.
As the night drew to a close, Peter admired the work he had done. He wiped his gloved hands in a motion to signify he was wrapping up. They were hardly conscious enough at this point to understand what was happening to them. To understand the fate they had drawn themselves to.
There was just one final thing he needed to do. Grabbing the needle and thread he brought with him for tonight and tonight only, he walked slowly towards the nude man. “Did you know that I sew all of my suits? Crazy right! How in the world does he have the time to do this, you might ask. It’s a valid question, but you know what, if I took it to lets say a seamstress, I would be unbelievably broke. Not to mention, how does one drop off the Spider-Man suit without drawing suspicion. First world problems, am I right?”
The man didn’t respond, but as Peter pierced the needle into his skin, his yelp rang in Peter’s ears. “Ah, ah, ah, don’t be moving around now, you’ll make my stitches go all out of wack here.” Peter took his time, but as he finished he admired the handy work.
Sewn into the man chest was a letter of his own. Crafted just for them. A message curated specifically for their enjoyment.
“How time flies, boys. Suns coming up here shortly. Time for me to be heading out.” He smashed a window, ready to crawl out, but he remembered one final thing he needed to do. Walking back over to Igor, he pulled his head back by the hair on his scalp, making him look into the bug eyed mask.
The whimper that fell from the grown man was laughable to Peter. “If you or your dogs come near anyone I love again, our next visit will not be as enjoyable as this one. If you get out of here, I mean.” Tears fell from the corner of his eyes as Peter released his head to fall back into its resting position.
“See you later, guys! Make better choices!” He called out behind himself as he crawled out the window, webbing it shut behind him before making his way home to you.
It was the first time in months that Peter felt like he could breathe. Taking in the fresh morning air, just minutes before the sun began to peak on the horizon, signaling the arrival of a new day. His lungs expanded with the deep breath of air, wanting to sob at the weight removed from his shoulders.
As he made his way back into the apartment, he spotted you in bed. Still curled up in the comforter, sound asleep, none the wiser of his whereabouts the night before. The brusing getting less and less noticeable by the day.
When he crawled into bed next to you, he refused to fall asleep, not tired in the least. No, instead as the sun began to shine through the curtains, he watched you. Watched as your chest rose and fell with each breath, grateful you were taking those breaths.
Because Peter knew that it wasn’t long ago where those breaths weren’t guaranteed. Now, he counted each one, to make sure you were okay. Of course you were okay now. Peter just needed to make sure.
It wasn’t too long after when you began stirring, eyes blinking open to see his golden eyes staring down at you with the softest gaze Peter had ever had. “Morning,” you mumbled, he whispered it back to you.
“You sleep okay?” He asked, to which you nodded, asking him the same. “Of course I did.” You smiled, getting up and ready to start your day.
You just needed to pretended you didn’t see the bruises adorning his knuckles. “What’s for breakfast?”
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Simon Riley x reader relationship headcanons
Sooo after nearly seven years of being a mostly inactive member of the fandom, writing countless fics that nobody ever got to see - I can say I’ve developed a fairly clear picture of how I envision some of these characters. Therefore, here are some of the things I think would characterize Simon as a partner (and a few of just him as a person).
English is not my first language so please bear with me :)
Friends first. I feel like he's not one to rush into a serious relationship without having strong foundations laid out first. You're a trustworthy, longtime teammate he's been working with for years, who has seen his darkest side and inner demons resurface, and still be accepting of him as a person? Or perhaps you're a civilian working at the coffee shop he frequents; the same civilian who spilled his usual at him one time, leading to an unexpected, but most certainly intruguing friendship? Let's fucking roll with either.
Following the first point—he's not a 'love at first glance' type of guy. He needs a connection, a spark; that spark that comes from knowledge and insight, both gained through meaningful interactions and a genuine bond. This is what Simon seeks. (Bonus points if you're a medic/nurse, because, you know, I fucking love medic x soldier trope)
Now let's get to the love language—definitely acts of service. You're tired after a long day at work? Boom, you've got a nice and hot bath waiting for you, together with your favorite snacks and a glass of wine/book to read (could be both). Running low on essentials, be it your favorite type of coffee, a preferred perfume, tampons, the likes? Well, expect it to be restocked as soon as possible. He'll change the oil in your car, scrape the frost from the windows, anything you as much as mention. If you're sick, he'll do whatever makes you feel better, whether that's a warm compress or something as simple as a bowl of soup and a couple of ice packs. He wants to take care of you. He might not be an expert at expressin his feelings through words, but he'll damn sure cook you a three-course meal and a dessert to show you how much he appreciates you.
That being said, he's an exceptional cook. He doesn't have many opportunities to experiment in the kitchen during deployments or safe houses, but you can be sure that Simon is behind the pots and pans preparing mouthwatering meals whenever he's back home. It's relaxing, and he simply enjoys spending time cooking for you and himself.
Not into excessive PDA - hand holding is okay, but when you two are in a crowd (which he hates), there's a hand on the small of your back or lingering on the back of your neck. Behind closed doors, he's more openly affectionate. Whether you're simply making a sandwich in the kitchen or he breezes past you, he's likely to stand behind you and simply rest his chin on the top of your head, rough hands on your hips, or when you two are sitting on the couch, his arm is either around you or resting on your thigh.
Non sexual intimacy is a big yes; head scratches, hand holding, shoulder rubs, baths together, or anything of the sort. But there's one thing that melts him completely and that's when you kiss his eyelids. If you're his teammate and you're in a relationship, he will appreciate you helping him out of his gear, washing the dirt and grime off his hands or helping him apply the camouflage paint on his face.
He may call you "love" or "sweetheart," but he attempts to restrict these terms of endearment primarily behind closed doors. He's not exactly fond of overtly cutesy pet names either, so he appreciates the occasional "Love" or "Si," but he draws the line at anything more ostentatiously affectionate. "Don't ya ever call me pookie again, got it, sweetheart?"
Wanna wake up before that man? Yeah, good luck with that. He's a proper, bona fide early riser, an early bird, prepared for the day well before the rays reach the horizon. It's like clockwork, a routine that's been ingrained into his circadian rhythm, something that governs his inner system. If he's not out on a morning jog, he'll lie on his side of the bed, staring at you, silently admiring. Oh, and he'll know if you wake up and pretend to be still asleep.
Simon values the power of silence. Quiet as he may be at certain times, this man is not indifferent; he's an observer. He considers observation as a means of learning and appreciates the sheer volume of knowledge that can be gleaned from the study of behaviors, facial expressions, and other body language cues. Furthermore, a comfortable silence may be the strongest indicator of the powerful connection between two people. That's how he knew there was truly something special between you and him.
HOWEVER. The previous point doesn't right away mean that he despises talking. Sure, he's not one for an idle chit-chat, but I feel like it’s a very frequent idea that he’s the brooding and sullen type who prefers grunting over speaking, kinda like Daryl Dixon (that's a huge compliment to Simon). I’d say, Simon is somewhere in between—more of a ‘I speak only when I want to/have something really meaningful to say’. If he's got something on his mind, he'll let you know. And, surprisingly, he has a way with words like the smoothest motherfucker ever.
Not surprisingly, he's a bit of a softie when it comes to animals, especially dogs. Not one to baby-talk when he sees a dog, he merely offers gentle pats on its head or side (if he's more familiar with the dog, I see him petting it like dads do lol). He’s also very careful about the animals and makes sure not to touch one without asking the owner first. As for service dogs, he's especially careful, keeping a safe distance and showing due respect for their role.
You know you're gonna have a K9 at your home when you get with this man.
He's not a fan of surprises or gifts, because he wasn't raised in a family full of hugs and "I love you's" or selfless acts of affection. He struggles to convey his gratitude in the conventional manner, so it's often expressed, albeit indirectly, through acts of service. No matter what it is that you've gifted him, he's grateful for the thought and consideration all the same.
But you better believe he will surprise you in turn. He goes out of his way to procure anything and everything you so much as mention wanting, be it a trivial trinket or something more significant. He's always listening, always paying attention.
Not very into verbal compliments, but his eyes speak an entire novel about how he feels about you. Gentle glances, lingering stares, and silent admiration. He might not be overtly forthcoming with his praise, but one look is worth more than a thousand words.
Big spoon. He's a tad bit paranoid about having his back vulnerable—much like a cat and its exposed belly. It has nothing to do with trust—as he does trust you. It's merely a product of his inner paranoia, though there's a touch of protectiveness in there, too. Beacuse he'd much rather have you enveloped in his arms, ensuring him the sensation of protecting you with his whole body. Perhaps with time he would let you spoon him, but I wouldn't count on it early on in the relationship.
He's territorial, not in a jealous, envious, or controlling sense but rather in a protective and defensive manner. He doesn't like men or women making advances on you, especially unsolicited physical contact or overt flirting. While he won't try to be overbearing or overly assertive, he will make it abundantly clear that such behavior is uncalled for and unacceptable.
civilian!reader - get ready for some self-defense lessons. He'll ensure that you know basic moves that can give you the time to escape a dangerous situation. Simon is well-versed in the brutality of the world, and he won't sugarcoat anything. If you're in danger, you run; if you feel something's wrong, you run. He can't always be there to protect you. So he's drilled this mantra into your brain: no matter how strong, tough, skilled you think you are, you simply can't trust that your enemy won't wield a knife or gun.
But one of the very first things he's given you even before you two became a couple was a can of pepper spray.
He's a direct, straight to the point man, which is why he has no time for beating around the bush. There's no awkward tip-toeing with hints that may go unexplored, no subtle suggestions that may fall flat—he's all in. Whether it's on a mission, in bed, or an argument, Simon lays it all on the line because you're worth it. He will commit to you wholeheartedly, leaving nothing on the table, giving you everything he has to offer because you deserve nothing less.
You fell first, but he fell harder—this man adores you. Although he's not mushy, he won't shower you with affection and cute nicknames all the time, he loves you. And when Simon Riley loves someone, you can be damn sure he means it. His loyalty knows no limits and once he's attached to you, he'll never let go. He'll go through and beyond any lengths to make sure you're happy and safe.
Though he might not openly admit it, he likes it when you take the initiative, whether it's in bed, in your relationship, or just life in general. He values your opinions and respects and acknowledges your boundaries, and makes sure to let his own boundaries and needs be known as well. So, step up and make yourself heard, cause he will listen.
He values honesty highly and has a razor-sharp bullshit detector. Can smell bullshit from miles away, actually. Therefore, never, ever lie to him. Because he will uncover the truth, one way or another. Lies are the one thing that can shatter his trust beyond repair, making it a cardinal sin in his eyes. So, don't shy away from telling him the truth—no matter how difficult or inconvenient or painful it may be.
Now it gets a bit complicated here, because while he expects honesty from his s/o, Simon himself holds back some things. These are largely related to his past or the missions he has been on, the things he has seen. He doesn't want to lie to you, but he does it to protect himself and you. You just have to accept the fact that there are certain things he won't ever tell you.
Is capable of being absolutely terrifying without even trying, let alone when he wants to be. His height, muscles, and scars are a force to be reckoned with. So you don't have to be worried about going on a walk with him in the middle of the night or wearing something a bit more revealing, cause he will beat the living shit out of anyone who dares to touch you.
Absolutely no one can defeat him in arm wrestling or even come close to his grip strength.
Very awkward around babies, and I mean extremely awkward. Like Jane Smith holding a baby in Mr&Mrs Smith. He doesn't know a flying shit about caring for children, especially since he didn't have a positive parental influence growing up or any good role models. The subject of starting a family is still a bit sore; though he would likely grow more open to discussing it as time goes on. Still, a major aspect of his psyche seems terrified of becoming like his father.
Would die a thousand deaths for you.
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Warming Up, One Shot
Thank you for the prompt: crimson25 submitted:
So Loki and the reader are just pillow talking and she asks him if there's anything he misses from Asgard and after thinking about it he says he misses the big bathtub in his old room. He tells her there was nothing better than coming back after a long day to a hot bath and a glass of wine, the smell of the bath oils in the air to help relax him. Maybe a good book or a lovely lady. Sadly in the towers, there's only showers. Well when Loki goes on a long mission (like 3 weeks) the reader has an idea. When Loki finally comes home to find the reader in a giant bathtub (with a shower attachment) filled with bath bombs that smells like the ones from Asgard, two glasses of wine and some food. She asked him if he would like to join her
-
You and Loki were lying in bed one morning, taking advantage of having a long lie together before he had to go off on a mission with the team later. You were dreading him leaving, as it was going to be for quite a while. You always missed him when he left for missions, more so on longer ones.
‘There must be something you miss about Asgard. It can’t have been all bad, surely?’ You asked him as you snuggled further into his arms.
Loki tightened his arms around you and squeezed tightly. ‘You’re determined to see some good in that place, aren’t you?’ He grumbled.
‘Come on, Loki. Anything at all that you miss?’ You said as your face was a bit squished against his chest. Not that you minded one bit, he smelled so good.
‘You are so unrelenting and stubborn sometimes.’ Loki growled playfully as he tickled your sides, making you squirm and laugh in his grasp.
‘I’ve been spending too much time with you!’ You laughed.
He stopped his attack and cupped your cheek, looking into your eyes. ‘Hmm, indeed.’ He chuckled and kissed you gently on the lips.
‘I suppose, there is one thing I miss about Asgard.’ He hummed after a moment of pondering.
‘And that is…’ You asked eagerly.
‘I miss my large bathtub. While the shower here is good, there’s nothing better than having a hot soak in a tub, glass of wine and some nibbles. Perhaps a good book to read, or a lovely lady to join me.’ He smirked when you elbowed him. ‘What? Can’t help it if I’ve always been a ladies’ man.’ He winked at you. ‘As I was saying, that’s probably what I miss about Asgard. I don’t get why Stark doesn’t have any baths here, I’m sure everyone would enjoy being able to have a nice soak after missions for the tired muscles.’
‘Yeah, that’s a pretty good point.’ You hummed. ‘I knew there would be something that you missed about Asgard.’
‘The only thing.’ He chuckled.
-
Loki was a bit weary when he finally returned back to the towers after being away for weeks with a few of the team. His body ached and he had missed you greatly. He couldn’t wait to hug you, shower with you, and then collapse into bed with you to relax.
But as he entered your shared room, he was shocked at what he found.
In the corner of the room, there was a very spacious circular bathtub, not far off being like a hot tub, there was a small table at the side with wine and some snacks. But the main thing he eyed up, was the fact you were in it, surrounded by bubbles and your legs were draped over the side in a seductive manner.
‘Oh, hey, you’re back!’ You said with a grin at him. You wanted nothing more than to jump out of the bath and run to him for a hug, but you decided to bide your time and remained in the water.
‘What… How…’ Loki stared at you in astonishment.
‘We have Clint to thank, he helped me get this set up. Using Tony’s card, of course.’ You grinned at him. ‘I figured you’d need something to relax you after such a long mission.’
‘How nice of you, including a lovely lady in the bath too.’ Loki purred.
You snapped, you couldn’t hold back any longer. You just wanted to be back in his arms. So you scrambled, very ungracefully, out of the bath and ran across the middle of the room, butt naked and dripping wet over to Loki. He chuckled as you threw yourself at him into his arms, he caught you of course and lifted you up as you wrapped your legs around him and kissed him deeply.
‘Screw trying to be seductive, I’ve missed you so much.’ You whispered over his lips.
‘Ohhh I don’t know, a naked wet girl running into my arms is pretty seductive, I’d say.’ Loki grinned and kissed you again as you blushed.
He slid a hand down to your ass and gave a cheeky squeeze then carried you over to the tub. He gently placed you down to your feet and you climbed back in as he had his armour vanish. You always admired his body, lean and muscular but not over the top, so it wasn’t like you were hugging a hard statue all the time. He was just perfect.
‘I can’t believe you did all this for me, darling.’ Loki, certainly not lacking grace, climbed into the tub with you. He let out a big groan as he sank down into the hot water and bubbles, instantly relaxing all of his muscles.
You couldn’t stop the big smile spreading across your face, it made you so happy to make Loki happy. You grabbed a glass of wine and handed it to him, then you picked up some grapes and started feeding him as you settled in his lap.
‘You’re spoiling me, love.’
‘I could do more than that for you, if you want.’ You wiggled on top of him suggestively, feeling him harden against you.
‘Oh, you certainly could.’ Loki slid his free hand down your side as you straddled over him more and draped your arms around his neck.
You reached down under the water and took hold of his cock, giving him a few strokes before then aiming him at your cunt and slowly sinking down onto him. You both moaned loudly as he slowly made his way into you. Once you were fully down on him, you took a few deep breaths and then was about to move but he growled at you.
‘No, no. Just, stay still, be my good girl.’
Your body clenched a little in delight at his words, being called good girl always got you excited. Not that you weren’t already excited enough.
On one hand, you loved cockwarming him as it always felt nice and intimate and so good having him inside you for so long. But on the other hand, you hated it. It was always so torturous, Loki had incredible stamina and was the King of teasing.
You whimpered and pressed your face against his neck, nibbling softly against him to try and get him to do more. He just chuckled and lightly trailed his fingers up and down your spine, causing goosebumps to rise even in the hot water.
Loki sipped his wine casually, even as you tried squeezing around him a few times, he still didn’t falter.
You leaned back ever so slightly so you could grab some cheese, hand feeding him again and having some for yourself, too. Trying to distract yourself. Loki nibbled on your fingers when you fed him the cheese, and you swore you could feel him twitching inside you. Probably on purpose.
‘So… is this… better than on Asgard?’ You asked as you tried to settle, your face in against his neck again.
‘Oh, it’s much better. Especially with the lovely little cockwarmer it comes with.’ He chuckled darkly into your ear and thrust up just the once, making you mewl against him. Then he tightened an arm around your middle to keep you from moving.
‘Oh god… You’re so mean.’ You whined.
‘I may be exhausted, but that only means I could just sit here for ages. With you keeping me nice and cosy the entire time.’ He chuckled again and gave your ass a few gentle pats.
And when he said ages, you knew he really did mean ages. You were starting to wonder whether getting him the bathtub really was a good idea or not…
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Eddie the Bitch
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem Reader
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Smut
Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI, 18+ Only, Mentions Drugs, Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Squirting, P in V Sex, Loss of Virginity, Pet Name Kink, Slight Dom Eddie, if I missed anything let me know!
Summary: It’s your senior year at Hawkins High and you are becoming all too aware of your ever-growing crush on your best friend, Eddie Munson. Does he also have feelings for you?
A/N: I know the title sounds weird but trust me it’s cute and makes sense when you read the fic lol
Masterlist
As you close your locker you jump at the sight of your best friend since middle school, Eddie Munson. He’s wearing typical Eddie attire; black skinny jeans with holes in the knees, a metal band tee, slightly tucked in at the front, his black leather jacket under his jean vest, black hi-top Converse, and a black belt with silver pyramid studs lining it. Of course, he’s also wearing the rings he never seems to take off, his long curly brown hair is still slightly damp from his shower this morning, and he’s got a goofy grin on his face.
“Didn’t mean to scare you, princess,” he chuckles, crossing his arms across his chest. Your heart flutters at his nickname for you. Even though he’s been calling you that for some time, it never fails to make your heart beat just a tick faster.
Though you had been best friends with him since middle school, it’s easy enough for you to admit that you and Eddie had grown a bit further apart in your high school years, mostly due to his extracurricular activities. Eddie was now known as the best drug dealer around, and though you disagree with his new career, it still doesn’t stop you from staying close to him, not when you’ve been becoming ever so much more aware of the growing crush you have on him. You know he will never see you as anything but his best friend, but there’s a part of you that wishes he will notice you, touch you, maybe even - fuck you.
Embarrassed at your thoughts, your face starts burning. “Ed! Stop sneaking up on me!” you exclaim, giving his shoulder a playful slap.
He holds his hands out in front of him, waving them defensively. “Woah, there! You have maimed me!” he laughs, feigning an injury. “I just wanted to check and make sure we were still on to hang out at my place tonight!”
You always hung out at Eddie’s place, a small little trailer located in the trailer park of Hawkins, Indiana, your hometown. Since Eddie lived with his uncle and he was never home, always away working the night shift at his job, it was the perfect place to smoke the occasional weed that you did and just hang out without being interrupted. You don’t blame his uncle, he’s doing all that he can to provide for them, but Eddie could have used some more parental guidance growing up, and perhaps he wouldn’t be a drug dealer now.
“Of course, Eds! What do you have planned?”
“That is part of the mystery,” he says taking a dramatic bow as he backs away from you. “Catch a ride with me after school?”
“Fine,” you huff, letting out a small sigh.
“That’s my girl!” he replies, giving you a wink.
All day you could not focus on any of your classes, your conversation with Eddie replaying through you remind over and over again. You know he doesn’t mean anything with his flirting, it’s just his personality, but it still makes you feel some sort of special way.
Though Eddie has never been particularly well in social situations and you are his only super close friend, you know he has been in several relationships before whereas you have not. Yeah, you’ve dated every now and then, but the relationships never were steady and usually ended after the first date.
Finally, the day ends as the bell sounds dismissing you from your last class. You stop by your locker to put away your books and then head to the parking lot to meet Eddie, but he catches you before you exit the school.
“Someone’s in a rush to get outta here, huh?” he smirks, placing an arm across your shoulder and pulling you close.
“Shut up, Ed!” you say, throwing his arm off of you and sprinting towards his van. He’s right on your heels the whole way, both of you giggling like small children.
You arrive at his van panting and out of breath and try to open the door, to jump in before he reaches you, but it’s locked. “Oh, come on! Since when have you started locking your van?”
He leans over you, trapping you against the door of his van, both hands on either side of your body. “I just did it today so I could trap you here,” he responds smugly.
“You bitch!”
“Ah, yes that is I, Eddie the Bitch!” he laughs. Reaching next to you he inserts his key into the passenger side door keyhole and unlocks it, holding it open. “Get in loser!”
The drive to Eddie’s house is short and you both sit in silence the whole way since he had turned up his radio to a rather earsplitting volume the moment he plopped down into the driver's seat. When he parks his car in the driveway he runs around to your side, opening the door for you and holding his hand out for you to grab onto for support. You gingerly take his hand, it’s warm, slightly sweaty, and it’s way bigger than your own. You can feel electricity pulse through you at his touch, but it ebbs down as your quickly release his hand, being sure to not hold on for a moment too long in case he gets weirded out.
Eddie throws his jacket off and onto the couch, revealing his tattoos. “Help yourself to a drink if you want, I think there’s some soda in the fridge,” Eddie calls from down the hall as he riffles through some stuff in his room looking for the perfect movie for you to watch.
Opening the fridge you see a pitcher of some sort of blue liquid, thinking it’s a fruit drink you pour a bit into a glass and give it a taste. “Ew,” you mumble, smacking your lips together at the disgusting taste. “That is definitely not kool-aid.” You pour the rest of the drink down the sink and replace the pitcher back into the fridge, opting for a soda instead.
“You want one?” you yell down in Ed’s direction.
“Sure!”
Grabbing another soda for Eddie you also dig through the pantry looking for a snack. There’s not much there, but finally, you find an old bag of salt and vinegar chips. You taste one, and sure enough, they are a bit stale, but you decide they are still edible. Retreating down the hallway to Ed’s room with your stash, you join him on his bed, handing him his soda and setting the chips down between you.
The two of you chat and watch the movie; before long you are snuggled up together on the bed legs intertwined and Eddie’s arm over your shoulder. Almost subconsciously one of his hands finds its way to your thigh and starts massaging it gently. You know he doesn’t mean anything by it, that it’s more a comfort thing for him, but the motion sends a tingling sensation right to your core.
You do your best to divert your attention to the movie but when Eddie snuggles closer, his hand drifting slightly higher, and you feel his hard cock press into your leg, you have to stifle a moan.
“You okay?” Eddie whispers, noticing you tensing up.
“Y- yeah, I’m fine,” you say, your voice accidentally coming out a bit higher than normal and your cheeks burning from a blush.
“You sure?” Eddie asks, repositioning himself a bit farther away from you. His hand leaves your thigh and instead finds your head, brushing a piece of hair back into place behind your ear before resting on your forehead. “You feel a bit hot. Are you feeling okay?”
“Well, you being so close to me surely isn’t helping. How am I supposed to concentrate with your hard dick on my leg?” you mumble under your breath, thinking it was low enough that Eddie couldn’t hear you.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch all of that,” Eddie says, a lopsided grin on his face. “Something about my hard dick? Would you care to elaborate?”
“I - What? I didn’t say anything!” you exclaim, jumping up off the bed and turning around to hide your face from him.
Eddie inches forward onto the edge of the bed. “That’s what I heard,” he says with a shrug. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of, (Y/N). I can take care of you if you’ll let me.”
“But we’re friends! Best Friends, Ed! Friends don’t - do that!”
“Oh, princess. You really are blind, aren’t you?”
“What?”
“I’ve had a massive crush on you since freshman year.”
Turning around, you look at him expecting to see him with that tale-tale look on his face that lets you know he’s cracking a joke, but that face isn’t present. “You’re being dead serious, aren’t you?”
“That I am. You know me so well, sweetheart. I don’t know how you didn’t notice my crush on you.”
“Ed, I’ve liked you since sophomore year.”
“Ouch, my heart!” he taunts, falling backward onto the bed grasping at his chest.
“Oh, shut it!” you giggle as he sits back up, brushing his long locks out of his face.
“Come here,” he says gently, moving back to where he was while you were watching the movie, his arms spread wide. You sigh and crawl back over to him, straddling him and resting your head on his chest. His arms come around and hold you tightly.
“Hey, look at me,” he pleads and you glance up at him and into those dark eyes of his. “You are stunning. If you want you can be all mine,” he says, pressing a kiss onto your forehead.
Those words have you pressing your thighs together in an attempt to lessen the growing tension there. The fact that you can feel his hard cock pressed up against you is not helping either.
“My, my,” he tuts. “Why are you pressing those delicious thighs together?”
“Oh my god, Ed! Can you not?” You roll off of him and go back to laying beside him.
His hand attaches itself to your thigh giving it a squeeze, before wandering upwards every so slightly and then back down again towards your knee. Before you can stop yourself, you let out a little gasp at his touch and he quickly draws his hand away.
“I’m sorry. I - I don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t want to do.” He licks his lips in anticipation. He’s finding it hard to control his impulses right now, but for you, he will hold back.
“Ed,” you breathe, finally deciding to give in to your desires. “I - I want you.”
Immediately, he jumps on you like a stray dog that hasn’t eaten in weeks. Rolling over on top of you he rests his weight on his arms and devours your neck. Sucking and kissing you in all the right spots causing you to let out a low moan as he grinds down onto your thigh before planting a kiss on your lips.
“Fuck. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” he groans. “May I remove this?” he asks tugging on the sleeve of your shirt.
You nod. He peels off your shirt and throws it to the ground of his room where it is sure to get lost amongst all his own clothing there, but you don’t mind. The cold of his room hits you like a ton of bricks, causing your nipples to stand so erect it’s noticeable under your simple t-shirt bra.
Eddie begins peppering your chest with kisses before sucking on the top of your breast. He lifts you up and grasps your bra clasp and waits for your approval before unclasping it and removing it, chunking it across the room. “Oh god,” he wails before taking a breast into his mouth and sucking on your nipple. His other hand travels to your other breast and massages it.
Your hands soon find themselves under his shirt, raking at his skin for support as you squirm under his touch. He momentarily stops his kissing to remove his shirt and pants before returning back to your skin, trailing kisses down your stomach to the top of your pants and back up again. Fingers shaking you reach down and try to unbutton your pants, your nerves getting the best of you.
“Allow me, my queen,” Eddie says, expertly removing your pants. “Cute undies, too bad they are absolutely soaked,” he comments, pulling the band back before letting it retract back and hit your skin with a smack.
“Ed, please” you whimper as he slowly slides your underwear off followed by his. His cock springs out of his underwear, already leaking with precum. The sight of it makes you almost burst with anticipation and you spread your legs, begging him to enter you with his cock.
“Not yet,” he says, trailing a finger through your wet folds, gently spreading them open. “Shit, you’re so wet, and all for me,” he hums. Removing his rings and placing them onto his nightstand, he carefully inserts his middle ring followed by his ring finger into your hole.
He finger-fucks you gently, quickly finding just the right spot and speed to make you scream, hitting it over and over again until your eyes are rolling back into your head, your orgasm impending.
“I- I’m gonna cum, Ed!” you screech.
“That’s a good girl. Cum for me, princess.”
On his command you cum hard, panting and squirting your precious liquid all over his bed, soaking it. His eyes glaze over with lust at the sight. “Oh my god, that was so hot. Fuck, I’m never washing these sheets again.”
“Fuck, you’re really good at this.”
“I told you once already, babe. You know me so well and I know you just as well,” he says, planting a kiss on your lips.
He reaches over to his nightstand and pulls out a condom, tearing it open with his teeth. He puts it on, rolls it up, and palms himself back to full erection. “Are you ready?”
“Ready as ever,” you giggle, butterflies in your stomach.
He lines himself up and slowly enters you, allowing you time to adjust to his length. It hurts a bit as he stretches you out but it soon fades away.
“You good?” he asks, determined to make sure he’s not hurting you.
“Yeah. God, Eds. You’re big.”
He shrugs and slowly begins pumping into you, increasing his speed in accordance with how your body reacts to him. Your second orgasm of the night soon washes over you and at the sight of your beautiful face contorting under his control, Eddie loses all of his self-control.
Relentlessly he begins pounding into you, chasing his own high. The thought of him using you to reach his climax has your pussy contracting around him. Your body shakes violently as you squirt again, this time all over him and his dick.
The pleasure from you contracting around him and releasing more of your liquid is enough to finally tip him over the edge. With one last thrust and a screech, he cums hard, the hardest he has ever cum before. “FUCK!” he screams and then he stills, collapsing onto you.
Legs still shaking from your post-orgasm bliss you run a hand through his hair. The two of you stay like this for a few moments until you break the silence. “I could use some water, Ed. You fucked me too good.”
Eddie mumbles something incoherent as he peels himself off of you, returning a few moments later with two glasses of water in hand. You move over on the bed to an area that’s not wet as he hands you one of the glasses.
“Shit, did I hurt you?” he says, eyeing the bits of red blood on the sheets.
Your face immediately begins burning, you guess you should have told him beforehand. “I’m fine, Ed. Um, you just took my virginity.”
His eyes turn into saucers and almost pop out of his head. “You’re lying. You’re joking, right?”
“I’m not.”
“Shit! You should have told me! I could have been even more attentive to your needs! I just figured you had already had sex, you know? I mean you’ve dated before… damn it.” he runs a hand through his hair and starts looking for your clothes in the midst of his own scattered all over the floor. Not being able to find them, he tosses you one of his t-shirts and a clean pair of his boxers to wear as he throws on a new outfit himself
“Eds, it was perfect. You were perfect. It’s everything I could have ever imagined,” you say as you throw on his clothes.
Eddie climbs back on the bed and the two of you lay cuddling. “Did you try any of that blue drink in the fridge by chance?” he asks finally. “I saw an extra glass in the sink that I didn’t notice before.
“Yeah, it was disgusting so I poured it out and got a soda instead,” you reply with a shrug.
“Oh my god! (Y/N), that’s the experimental aphrodisiac drug I’ve been testing out!” he says with a chuckle.
“Eddie Munson! Why are you experimenting with such a thing? And why wasn’t it labeled?” you exclaim slapping his chest.
“Well, I guess it’s safe to say it works.”
“You bitch,” you mumble.
“Ah, yes it seems I am still Eddie the Bitch, huh?” he cackles, planting a kiss on your forehead.
“Well, I’d say your Eddie My Bitch now.”
“Touché, my princess.”
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Can we get some real gentle Carl x reader for the soul? 🥺
I need me some shy pda with real lovey dovey shit in private. Like he'll hold your hand and give you the occasional forehead kiss in public when thinks there aren't too many people watching, then after a long day and yall get home, just before you go to bed you get a real slow gentle makeout sesh with gentle touches like hand on the cheek or neck, holding your waist and pulling you onto his lap and into his chest because he just can't get you close enough and aaarrrghhh 😭❤❤❤❤
And then when yall decide it's time to get some sleep, he gives you the sweetest kisses on the forehead and cheeks, and then holds you close to fall asleep (don't mind me being utterly in love with this boy)
this was a request that i posted earlier but then deleted cuz i felt sad and. Yeah
💌
please this is the cutest thing i’ve ever read ))):
beings as it’s the apocalypse and he’s never really had any experience in the romance department, i picture he’d be incredibly shy about pda but he’d also be clingy. perhaps he’s too nervous to give you kisses of any sort, but he’ll hold your hand!!!! wrap is arm around your waist!!!! the odd time he’ll even put his arm around your shoulders and bring you a lil closer to him (hip-to-hip pfft) because in his mind your wayyyy too far from him and he misses you.
but when you guys finally get alone time away from helping out in alexandria, homeboy is all over you and it feels. So Nice. he’s peppering your face in tiny kisses, giving you the compliments he’s too shy to say in front of anyone else, holding you comfortingly in his arms
in my mind carl grimes is just the apocalyptic version of peter parker 🍓🦋💗💗🧚♀️💐
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Wildest Dreams || Chapter One ||
A/N: hello everybody, welcome to chapter one, finally! I have to be honest, the original update day for this was Friday but I had SO MUCH to deal with like my accommodation for Uni next year, money being a bit tight, etc! But yeah, I am looking forward to you reading this chapter, it's only small but it expands the world! Enjoy! ^-^
↣ MASTERLIST
You were in your paradise again, the same golden castle, same beautiful sky and grass softer and richer than your worlds. Yet there was one difference, the man you’d met a month ago was there now, he had been for two weeks. No explanation, just the guy you’d met because you almost died appearing in your dreams. He wasn’t wearing his suit, however. No, he was wearing armour that you knew wasn’t from any time period you’d ever studied about.
His eyes were the same emerald green, the love in them shining as his gaze was always fixed on you. He had first appeared in a window at the door to the garden of your dreams. In the next few days, the door beside the window inched open and he passed through. Now, he was standing at the beautiful cherry blossom tree just a bit in front of you. He didn’t seem threatening, nor did he ever speak to you, he just watched. Quiet. Ever the understanding soul through the days where you forced yourself to sleep just to retreat to this paradise to rid yourself of the worry of the world.
You hadn’t anticipated he would feel so comforting even from a distance. Just him being in this paradise with you eased your stress after a long day or at night when you’d finally return here. He wasn’t a threat, you somehow knew he would never hurt you.
December, January and February came and passed, uneventful, mundane days that blurred into one, saved only by your little paradise. You hadn’t seen the man since that fateful encounter that first day. Three months. Three. He was closer in your dream now but far from you in the waking world.
Coincidence, you assumed after the first month, waiting just that little bit longer at the crossing for the familiar face of the man.
Perhaps he was merely visiting, you realised a month later as you stood on the street where you’d met him the second time.
Why am I this bothered about a man I met twice anyway? You pondered for the whole third month.
Today marks three months since you’d met the man. You’d never even gotten his name, you just assumed he was new to the neighbourhood and your shenanigans would occur every day but your foolish hope broke after the first two weeks.
You dragged yourself through your routine again, setting off into the late February weather; rain. Luckily, you’d remembered your umbrella this time and smiled at your luck before setting off through the rain toward your favourite coffee shop. You paid attention this time, lingering glances at every person’s face that was nicely dressed, desperately hoping to see him again. You didn’t understand why he mattered so much to you but you’d find out somehow.
The bell chimed above the door to the coffee shop as you entered, gazing down at your phone to check how long until your shift before you hit a hard chest and a burning pain lit up across your arms and chest. You gasped at the pain and jumped back, your white blouse stained with coffee. “Hey! Watch it next… time…” you began before trailing off, meeting the eyes of the same man you’d been desperately searching for through the months. His eyes were concerned but it was as if time around the two of you had stopped, giving you this moment.
“Shit, forgive me,” the man cursed, pulling you aside and pulling a handkerchief out of his suit jacket pocket. He began to try and dry your shirt but you knew that the stain wouldn’t come out like that, if at all. “Suppose I am the clumsy one this time,” he joked, a slight grin overtaking his concerned frown.
“Suppose so,” you responded timidly before sighing and holding his wrist, stopping his efforts of drying your shirt. “I’ll just go home and change it, it’s no worry,” you responded with a soft smile, even though you knew that your very stereotypical corporate boss would very stereotypically bunk your pay.
The man pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow questioningly, “do you have something to cover yourself with? I’m afraid walking back to your apartment with a sopping blouse and clearly visible bra would warrant… unwanted attention.”
The way the man spoke sounded so elegant, the kind of language that you’d expect from a gentleman of the 1900s not the boys that roamed the world these days, it shocked you even more. However, what almost caused your brain to malfunction was when the man gently took your hand and guided you into the disabled bathroom, locking the door behind you two before unbuttoning his green waistcoat and then his shirt.
“Woah, woah, woah!” you yelled, your eyes widening in shock as the man’s bare chest was revealed to you, “I barely know you, sir! At least take me out on a date first!”
The man threw his head back and laughed before shaking his head and offering you his white shirt. “You misunderstand, this is for you, at least until you finish the day,” he informed you, his shoulders still quivering with laughter, “I shall walk you to your building then be back when you finish to walk you home. After that, you can give me my shirt back. Or keep it.” He added with a wink at the end before turning his back without being prompted to keep your modesty, sliding on the waistcoat as he did.
You stared at the shirt in your hand and wasted no time changing into it, sighing in relief at the feeling of dry fabric against your skin. “Thank you,” you muttered before adding, “you can turn around now.”
The man turned and you watched as a war of emotions flew across his face before he pulled on a smile and nodded. “Then let us depart,” he smiled and guided you out of the bathroom, out of the shop and onto the street.
As he walked you to work, the silence between the both of you wasn’t tense, it wasn’t awkward. It felt… right. Comforting. This man had done a good deed, definitely, but he was going the whole mile, not putting in just the required amount of care.
When you got to your work building, it almost seemed wrong to leave the man’s side but you waved to him and walked inside.
The man stayed on the path outside the building for a few more minutes. Watching until your form had truly disappeared within the concrete building before conjuring himself a new shirt in a flurry of green and walking away, waving his hand once again with a small, sad smile on his lips.
When you got to your desk, you discovered your favourite beverage waiting for you, piping hot beside your desk with a note.
You forgot your drink this morning.
Have a good day.
~ L
You pondered the question of how the man – L – had gotten your drink, got to your desk and left before you ever reached the floor for the rest of the day.
A/N(2)- okay yeah this was REALLY small, I'm so sorry! But I hope you enjoyed :)
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a post two days in a row? are those pigs flying outside your window rn or is it just me?
chishiya shuntaro relationship headcanons
(isn’t he adorable)
okay! let’s talk relationship headcanons. (I went off on this one, you guys, so please bear with me) as always, gender neutral reader. assumed to be in the borderlands/at the beach.
-first, let’s talk angsty things.
-odds are, he did NOT want to fall for you in the slightest. you know the story already—feelings are weaknesses, he can’t be seen as weak, etcetera etcetera. so, just imagine we’re past all that.
-but one thing I think isn’t talked about enough is the fact that if you two are in a relationship, he will be in conflict with himself a LOT of the time.
-on one hand, he has some really, really strong feelings for you that he doesn’t quite understand himself. (in basic terms, man is down bad.) but on the other hand, he doesn’t know what he’d do with himself if something were to happen to you in a game.
-part of him wants to come with you to every game to make sure he can protect you. at the same time, though, he doesn’t WANT to come to every game with you in the event that only one of you could walk out.
-(and, honestly, it freaks him out a lot more than you would realize; because for all his self-preservation, he isn’t sure he would survive a game that only one of you could survive. read between the lines there.)
-obviously worries about you when you’re off at a game. he won’t show it, but his eyes are scanning the crowds constantly waiting for you to come back—and, of course, he’s more than relieved when you come back.
-(see, he doesn’t doubt your skills. he knows you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself. but it still doesn’t help the anxiety that pounds in his chest while you’re away, undoubtedly fighting for your life.)
-so when you come back, he definitely holds you close on those nights and wishes, despite how useless he knows wishes are, that the two of you could stay in the moment forever, and neither of you would need to play the games again.
-yeah, he worries.
-a lot.
-which he doesn’t like, because if it were just him, he would be all he would need to worry about. he would only need to protect himself. and yet, now, with you, he has someone else to worry about (even more than himself).
-okay. cuter relationship things time. (my favorite tbh)
-I don’t know how many times I can drive the point home, but I'm going to say it yet again. QUALITY TIME.
-your room is his room now.
-like, yes, he does enjoy his personal space; but also, spending time with you is a way he shows his affection for you. he doesn’t like being around very many people for long periods of time (aside from possibly kuina), but for some reason, you just don’t bother him.
-in fact,(you’re gonna want to sit down for this one): he likes being around you.
-I know. crazy. he thinks so too.
-he’ll work on his little five minute crafts trinkets and tools in your room, and if you’re really curious, he’d explain the process to you and show you what he’s doing and how he does it. he’d also make some things for you (regardless if you wanted him to or not, LOL. it’s his way of trying to protect you when he can’t be there himself.)
-he’s not a party person in the slightest, but if you liked being out there with the party people (words from an eloquent writer), he’d lurk and let you do your thing. but don’t expect him to dance.
-though, if you really wanted to slow dance with him (and perhaps you two were on the rooftop alone), after a LOT of convincing, he might not say no.
-he’s actually a lot softer than you think. still a sarcastic asshole, but soft.
-he’d be the kind of person who, if you had nightmares, would stay up with you afterwards. if you wanted to talk about it, he’d listen with no qualms about it. if you didn’t, he might just talk to you—about his life, what he did back then, his plans for the future, even if they’re a bit cynical. (which most definitely include you, by the way). or perhaps you could go for a walk, or just sit in silence. he’d do whatever makes you most comfortable.
-and if you had a tendency to get hurt often, he’d probably be in the habit of scolding you, telling you constantly that you’re a walking magnet for trouble. but he’d patch you up regardless, making sure to be extra careful with you.
-he’s the ‘does-things-for-you-without-you-realizing-it-boyfriend.’
-like, if you liked a particular treat, it’d just start appearing at random intervals in your room. or if he noticed that you had a hobby that involved items that are reasonably accessible (like drawing or trinket collecting) he might get you little things here and there that he thought you’d like.
-if asked about it, though, he’d just shrug it off as not a big deal.
(EDIT: TO THE PERSON WHO LEFT A COMMENT SAYING THAT CHISHIYA’S GIFT GIVING REMINDED YOU OF A CAT BRINGING SOMETHING TO THEIR HUMAN, YOU’RE SO RIGHT)
-he likes talking to you, surprisingly enough. he’ll gladly take the pieces you give him about your past life to learn more about you. he won’t admit it, but he thinks often of how the two of you would fit into each other’s lives back in the real world.
-hand holding. <3
-he’d let you borrow his hoodie. definitely thinks it looks better on you than it does on him.
-how do I best explain this? your boyfriend is a cat.
-what I mean by this is, he literally would die before admitting it, but his favorite thing is cuddling. or when you play with his hair. oh my god, please play with his hair.
-physical touch is typically something he doesn’t like, but with you? oh boy.
-like, he wouldn’t ask for it. it’d be VERY rare for him to approach you for physical affection outright.
-instead, he’d just...plant himself in front of you. or on you. somehow just be near you enough to send telepathic brain waves in your direction, wanting you to play with his hair or his hands or just to hold him tbh.
-CAT BOY LIKES BEING HELD. I DIDN’T MAKE THE RULES.
-tbh, he might omit some things from you (for the sake of protecting you, in his mind), but he won’t outright lie to you or manipulate you. he thinks you’re too smart for that and you can call his bullshit easily LOL.
-but he also likes impressing you. so he’ll just show up with this ridiculous amount of knowledge out of nowhere, literally for the only purpose of throwing you off.
-also, regarding the term boyfriend. i think hearing you refer to him as your boyfriend secretly gives him butterflies <3
-would take you on faux dates on the rooftop or in your rooms if you liked that kind of thing.
too much? not enough? (also i love you guys honestly, seeing the little lightning bolt on my screen every day gives me the happy chemical. and your comments sometimes got me reeling LOL. i appreciate every one of you)
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Changed Man
Spencer Reid x Reader
Summary: After an appointment with your therapist, you want to speak with Spencer.
"And how's life with your husband, Y/N?" you let out a long sigh before you looked at your therapist.
"I have noticed a lot of changes in him. I honestly thought that this talk about how jail changes people were fake, but I’m afraid it's true." you let out a long sigh.
"What about him did change? Did you notice anything specific?" you were more than comfortable talking about this with her.
"At first, I didn't even notice. It is hard to explain but I noticed it when we were having sex the other day. He was more dominant."
"Did he hurt you? Or do something you didn't like perhaps?"
"Nothing like that! It just struck me, he used to be almost nervous every time, but now he was so confident. I liked it, I just don't know what to do with it."
"Did you mention it to him?"
"No. I was afraid he would call me paranoid."
"Then why don't you just have a sit-down with him? Try to tell him about your side of things, he is a smart man, I'm sure he will understand."
"Yeah, I’ll try that. Thank you." you offered her a smile and just as the session ended, you were on your way home.
---
"Hi Babe." you said into the house as you locked the front door.
"Hi." came the voice from inside, you soon entered the living room and found Spencer reading.
You headed over to him and placed a kiss to his cheek, he offered you a smile.
"How was your day?" he asked.
"Busy. Very busy."
"That's what you get for being a CEO I suppose. Did you eat already?"
"No, did you?"
"Nope, let's order then." you heard as he called and ordered some pizza while you took a quick shower.
You let out a long sigh as you finally put up your feet and eat something.
After eating, you felt pain as you groaned a little as you started to rub your neck.
"Do you want a massage?"
"No, no I'm good Spencer, thank you."
"It's okay really." he tried to get closer to you but you jump up from the couch. "What's wrong?" you basically heard his heart break as he asked and looked at you.
But to be honest, you weren't too sure either.
"Everything? No, not everything... it's just, I have to figure this thing out and I'm... I don't know."
"What are you saying Y/N?"
"I'm scared Spencer."
"Of me?" he asked, surprised and hurt.
"No! Not of you." you were quick to reply.
"Then what is it Y/N?" he started to raise his voice out of frustration. "Do you not want to be married to a criminal anymore? Is that why you visited me so often in jail? To justify your thoughts of wanting to leave me out of shame?"
"I'm scared that you changed and you won't want me anymore!" as you said that your hands started to shake. All the past months came crashing down on you. "I'm scared you will realize you don't love me anymore, I'm scared that you will find someone better. I'm terrified that you will leave me." as you said that, all of your tears began to fall.
"Sweetheart," he hugged you and calmed you before he began to speak. "I will never leave you. I love you much." when he pulled back he could see you searching his eyes, trying to figure out on your own if he was lying or not.
"Promise?"
"I married you for a reason. I have loved you and I will continue to do so."
"Please don't quote some philosopher who said something about love. Just kiss me and never leave me."
And he did.
"I'm sorry, Sweetheart." he whispered as he put his forehead against yours.
"You have nothing to apologise for. You went through something terrible, I should be more understanding, but my insecurities got the best of me."
"It's okay. I'm just happy we are here together. I love you."
"I love you too." you put your hand on his neck and pulled him in for another kiss.
Letting your insecurities wash away.
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~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS
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