Anything III (König X Reader)

Ngl the way I was reading this as a joke but now I’m HOOKED!!? This was so cute and sad at the same time omg I love itttt

Momentary Bliss

Summary: Luigi Mangione. Star student. Travel enthusiast. Alleged murderer. Hero of the people. For a fleeting moment he was more than that…he was yours.

A/N: fluff/angst fic abt a whirlwind romance luigi has with reader. WC is 7.4k so get comfy

Luigi sits in his seat, leg anxiously bouncing as he checks his watch for what feels like the millionth time. The adrenaline from earlier is wearing off. Now he just feels anxious. Anxious to leave this city behind and put as many miles as he can between him and New York.

He fidgets his jacket and releases a shaky breath.

“Hey, do you mind turning on the A.C.?” He calls out to the driver.

The bus driver looks in the rear view mirror and huffs when he sees who called out to him.

“Why don’t you try taking off your jacket first, pal?” He asks, before pulling his gaze away, continuing to look over the scheduled stops.

Luigi leans his head against the headrest of his seat and sighs. He feels much too hot with his face mask. And all the layers he’s wearing aren't exactly helping ease his sudden claustrophobia, but they’re a necessary evil. He has to stay covered, stay hidden until he’s far enough away to not be recognized. He breathes a sigh of relief when the driver finally puts the map down, checking his mirrors one last time before switching his turn signal on.

The bus has only just started to pull away from the curb when someone yells out.

“Hey! Wait!”

Luigi rolls his eyes as the bus comes to a stop, the doors opening a moment later.

“Oh my god, thank you so much.” You sigh as you climb the steps.

“Need to store anything under the bus?” The driver asks, scanning your ticket before handing it back to you.

“Nope.” You shake your head, holding up a small duffle bag with a smile. “Traveling light.”

The bus driver nods, closing the door again and turning to look out his side mirror.

“Jus’ grab any open seat.” He instructs.

You scan the bus, weighing your options of who would be the best person to sit beside. Luigi had curiously looked up when the doors opened, wanting to see who got on; however his mistake was that he didn’t look away. It shouldn’t be a surprise that he ended up locking eyes with you, but he still found himself letting out a startled gasp. You smile kindly and Luigi immediately looks away, fidgeting with his sleeves.

Fuck, he thinks to himself. So much for trying not to draw attention to himself.

You maneuver your way down the narrow passage, murmuring “‘scuse me” and “sorry” to the already settled passengers with a sheepish grin. Finally, you come to a stop beside a young man sitting on the aisle seat with the hood of his jacket up- covering his head.

“Excuse me,” You call softly. “Is it alright if I sit with you?”

Luigi’s fidgeting stops at the sound of your voice. He quickly considers his options before eventually deciding it’d be best for him to keep his aisle seat. After all, if he were to sit by the window, he’d be putting himself at risk of being spotted by anyone that happens to pull up alongside the bus.

Wordlessly, Luigi stands from his seat, avoiding your gaze as he does. He sneaks a quick glance at you when he hears you gasp softly, worried that you’ve found him out already.

“You’re letting me have the window seat?” You ask excitedly, smiling brightly at him before shuffling into the aisle and plopping down into the cushy chair. “Thanks!”

Luigi clears his throat before awkwardly nodding his head as he sits back down. You turn your body to face him again and Luigi tenses.

“I’m Y/N by the way.” You say before looking at Luigi expectantly.

He continues to stare straight ahead, doing everything in his power to avoid your curious gaze. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees your shoulders slump and finds himself feeling guilty.

“Mark.” He finally grumbles.

“Mm?” You hum, perking your head up at the sound of his baritone voice.

“My name…” He clarifies, still looking straight ahead. “It’s Mark…”

“Mark…” You repeat before beaming at him. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Again, Luigi chooses to silently nod his head.

Taking the hint that he wasn’t in the mood to talk, you turn your head to look out the window, though you know there won’t be much of a view since it’s a little past eight o’clock in the evening.

You’ve only made it a few blocks away from the bus station when you call out to the driver.

“Excuse me, sir? Would it be possible to turn on the air please?” You ask, craning your head in an effort to be seen over the rows of seats in front of you.

“Sure thing, sweetheart.” The driver calls back, messing with the controls.

Immediately after, a cool breeze starts circulating the bus. You lean back in your seat with a content sigh.

“Oh, that’s much better.” You mumble to yourself, turning back to gaze out the window.

Luigi sneaks a glance at you, quickly taking in your delicate features before looking away. He leans back in his seat and crosses his arms. For the first time today, the weight on his chest feels lighter and he doesn’t feel as if he’s struggling to breathe. He doesn’t know if you’re the reason or if it’s due to the air conditioning finally being turned on. He doesn’t care to dwell on it.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The bus had only been on the road for a little over an hour when Luigi started shuffling around; moving this way and that in his seat and groaning in discomfort. The bus drives over a pothole and Luigi grunts, holding onto the seat in front of him to brace himself.

“Hey, are you okay?” You ask cautiously, not wanting to overstep.

“Fine.” He grumbles through clenched teeth.

The bus goes over another pothole and this time he takes a shaky breath.

“Okay, you’re obviously not fine.” You argue, setting your phone down. “What is it? Are you getting car sick?”

Luigi shakes his head. You notice how uncomfortable he looks, almost as if he’s in pain and a lightbulb goes off in your head.

“Do you need a pillow to sit on?” You ask softly.

He looks at you with complete confusion on his features- which aren’t much to go off considering he still has his face mask and hood on. But judging by the furrow of his brows, you can only assume.

“For your hemorrhoids.” You whisper with a nod.

Luigi’s so caught off guard by the whole thing that he can’t help but let out a shocked laugh.

“I don’t have hemorrhoids.” He tells you with a shake of his head.

“Oh.”

“I have- back pain.” He admits reluctantly.

“Oh?”

“Horrible back pain.” He continues. “It’s been going on for years.”

You frown sympathetically at the news before remembering something you haphazardly threw in your bag earlier when packing. You grab your duffle bag from the floor, undoing the zipper and blindly rummaging through it until you hear the distinct crinkle of plastic packaging. You pull out the package, hesitating for only a moment before holding it out to him.

“Do you want this?” You ask shyly, worried you’re overstepping.

“…What is it?” Luigi asks skeptically.

“Heat pack. It helps when I get cramps,” You shrug. “I thought maybe…”

Luigi eyes the package and reads the label.

Hot Hands. Stick-on Body Warmer. Up to 12 hours of heat.

“Yeah…” He nods slowly. “Yeah, I’ll take it. But only if you’re sure-“

“Back pain’s a bitch; go crazy.” You assure.

Luigi takes the package from you and starts opening it while you set your duffel bag back on the floor. He places the patch on his lower back and settles into his seat. Within seconds it starts heating up. Judging by the relieved sigh he lets out, you can only assume that it’s working.

“So where ya going?” You ask him curiously.

“Not sure yet.” He answers cryptically. “Right now I’m just tryna get out of New York.”

You nod your head. He isn’t sure if it’s in agreement or acknowledgment.

“You?” Luigi asks, looking at you from the corner of his eyes. He’s gathered by now that you’re a bit of a chatterbox. He figures it’d be best to give vague answers and redirect the attention to you rather than just sit silently. From what he’s seen, you’re more than happy to do most of the talking.

“Ideally, California. Realistically, as far as I can make it.” You tell him with a small grin.

“What’s in California?” He asks curiously.

“What isn’t in California?” You ask in return. “There’s beaches, amusement parks, museums.” You list before staring off dreamily. “And L.A. is always like a perfect 70 degrees.”

“Florida has beaches and amusement parks too.” Luigi comments casually. “And it’s a shorter trip. Why don’t you go there?”

“Do I look ninety to you?” You ask with an offended frown. “Aside from grandmas freshly retired, I don’t think anyone willingly moves to Florida.”

Luigi chuckles and nods his head in agreement.

“Fair enough. But why go all the way to California?” He asks. “I mean, I’m sure there are other states that are much closer and have the same attractions.”

“Well sure. But California is quite literally on the other side of the country. I’m trying to get as far away from New York as I possibly can.”

“Hawaii?” Luigi offers with a grin, fondly remembering his time there.

“Too far.” You immediately shake your head.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re running from something?” Luigi asks, eyeing you suspiciously.

“I could say the same thing about you.” You fire back, almost defensive with how fast you answer him. Beside you, Luigi tenses. “And everyone else on this bus.” You add. Meanwhile, he releases the breath he had been holding. “I mean, you gotta admit it’s kinda sus.”

“But on the other hand,” You continue, less talking to him and more thinking out loud at this point. “Boarding a cheap bus that’ll drive all through the night while you sleep? Grade A traveling if you ask me.”

“Excellent point.” Luigi nods, thoroughly amused with your rambling. “Touché.”

You smile victoriously at him before turning back around and looking out the window. After a few minutes, you sink lower into your seat, getting more comfortable. Sensing that you’re done bothering him with mindless questions, at least for now, Luigi tries to get some rest. He sits back in his seat and crosses his arms before shutting his eyes.

Luigi’s just on the brink of falling asleep when he feels a sudden weight land on his left shoulder. He’s immediately on alert, opening his eyes and whipping his head to the side. He relaxes when he sees that there’s no threat, it’s just you. He’s about to pull away when you let out the softest of snores.

Luigi watches you sleep for a moment, taking in the serene look on your face and the steady rise and fall of your chest. He smiles softly to himself before leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes once more, finally falling asleep himself.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The bus going over another pothole is what wakes Luigi a few hours later. He blinks his eyes slowly, trying to get his bearings. Sometime during his slumber his head dropped, coming to a rest atop yours. As soon as he realizes this, Luigi sits up, face burning in embarrassment.

Clearing his throat, Luigi looks down at you and notices that you’re still fast asleep with your head still resting on his shoulder. However now your arms are wrapped around his left one, hugging his appendage close to you, as if you’re worried he’d escape. He chuckles softly to himself, letting you sleep for a few more minutes.

Once the driver announces they’re a few minutes away from the station, Luigi decides to wake you. He shakes your shoulder gently and you stir slightly, frowning in annoyance before burying your face against his arm. Luigi rolls his eyes and huffs before shaking you a bit more firmly.

“Y/N.” He calls, continuing to shake you. “Come on. It’s time to wake up. We’ll be pulling into the station soon.”

Finally, you pick your head up, taking a deep breath and blinking sleepily as you look around.

“Mm?” You hum, trying to make out where you are.

You turn your gaze back to Luigi and smile sleepily at him. Before he knows what he’s doing, he finds himself smiling back.

“We’re almost at the station.” He repeats.

You nod your head, bringing a hand up to rub your eye. You see that your other arm is still wrapped around his and freeze, eyes widening before you quickly pull away.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” You exclaim, covering your mouth in horror.

“It’s fine.” Luigi shrugs. “As long as you were able to get some rest.”

Seeing that he isn’t upset, you slowly put your hands down.

“Wow… Sweet and handsome. I fear you may be just my type.” You comment playfully.

Luigi raises his brows as he looks at you, hoping his mask hides how his face has gone red.

“What makes you think I’m handsome?” He asks, readjusting his hood.

“Mainly personal preference.” You shrug nonchalantly. “What can I say? I’m a sucker for brown eyes.” You tell him, placing your hand under your chin and batting your eyelashes at him.

Luigi shakes his head, letting out an amused huff. Luckily for him, the bus station becomes visible and you drop the conversation, pulling your phone out as you try to figure out what your next step will be.

As soon as the bus parks, everyone gets off and goes their respective ways. Some go wait for a different bus, others have people waiting for them, a few go get something to eat.

You scan the bus station before spotting a sign that lets you know you’re at the Newark station in New Jersey. You let out a relieved smile upon realizing you successfully managed to make it out of New York and again, Luigi finds himself wondering what- or who- you’re running from.

“So where you going next?” You ask, looking up at Luigi curiously.

“I’m not sure yet.” He comments. He has a few different options. Columbus, D.C., Richmond. “You?”

“Pennsylvania.” You tell him with a firm nod. “Think I’ll be able to catch a flight to L.A. from Altoona.”

“Altoona?” He repeats with furrowed brows. “Wouldn’t Pittsburgh be cheaper?”

“Yes.” You nod. “It would be. $139 cheaper to be exact. But Altoona is a smaller airport. Less people.”

“What are you running from?” Luigi asks again, words coming out before he can stop himself.

The playful smile you had disappears and Luigi mentally scolds himself for being the reason. You look over your shoulder at the information desk before turning back to Luigi, your smile more reserved.

“I should go…” You say solemnly, pointing over your shoulder. “Get my ticket before they get busier…”

Luigi looks over your shoulder and notices the line of people before nodding his head.

“Yeah… That’s a good idea…” He agrees, fidgeting with sleeves again.

“Bye Mark.” You smile, taking a small step away from him. “I hope you make it to wherever you’re going.”

“Yeah. You too.” Luigi nods.

He watches you take a few steps before calling out to you.

“Luigi.”

“Huh?” You ask, looking over your shoulder at him with a confused frown.

“Call me Luigi.” He says, taking in a shaky breath as you continue to stare at him.

“You gave me a fake name.” You realize, narrowing your eyes at him.

Luigi rubs the back of his neck awkwardly at having been called out.

“Ahh…” He stutters.

“Well now I’m not gonna use it.” You say matter-of-factly as you turn back around.

“What?” He asks with a shocked laugh.

“Bye Mark!” You call, walking away before looking over your shoulder one final time and smiling at him.

Luigi shakes his head before scanning the station, eyes zeroing in on the bathrooms and suddenly remembering how badly he has to pee.

He doesn’t see you in line when he exits the bathroom a short moment later and assumes you went to wait inside. Pulling out his phone, he sees there’s a pub and grill on the other side of the station, about a block away, and decides to head there to get some food before figuring out his next step.

When he gets to the pub, Luigi gets an order of sliders and a bottle of water to go, putting them into his backpack before heading back to the station. He’s just about to sit at one of the tables to eat when he sees you exit the building and look at your phone before turning right.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Luigi continues to watch you. You take a few steps forward before looking back down at your phone. He assumes you’re following directions but to where? You cautiously scan your surroundings before hurrying across the street. Luigi hesitates for only a moment before following after you, shaking his head at himself. Where are you going at 11 o’clock at night in a city you don’t even know? And why does he care?

You reach the intersection and run across the street when you don’t see any cars. After safely crossing the road, you pull your phone back out, checking the map once more before continuing your walk. Apparently there’s a seafood restaurant around the corner that should still be open. You aren’t the biggest fan of seafood but you’re hoping they’ll at least have some chicken tenders. Getting excited at the mere thought, you pick up the pace, hurrying around the corner only to let out a startled scream when you see a man standing there.

“Oh shit, sorry!” You apologize to the man. “You scared me.” You admit with a laugh.

“That’s alright, beautiful.” The man assures, looking you over.

“Um. Okay…bye.” You say with a nod before walking past him.

You hear him start to follow after you and don’t think anything of it at first.

“Hey, hold up. Where you going?” He asks.

You turn around, and when you see that he’s talking to you, your eyes widen. You turn back around and start walking a bit faster.

“Hey! I’m talking to you!” He calls.

“I’m just looking for something.” You call over your shoulder at him.

“Me too.” He says. “And I think I just found it.”

“Uhm.” You stammer, turning to face him. “I was looking for a restaurant but I think it’s closed so I’m actually just gonna go-“

“Hey, hold on.” He says, grabbing your wrist before you can walk past him. “What’s the rush?”

“Hm? Oh! There’s- there’s no rush.” You shake your head with a nervous smile. “I just- I should be getting back. I-“

“Why’re you being like this? You’re hurting my feelings.” You try to pull your wrist free and his hold gets tighter. “I’m just tryna have a friendly conversation.”

“Well, I-“

“Let her go.” Someone else calls.

You and the man both turn around at the new voice. Your shoulders drop in relief when you see Luigi standing a few feet away.

“Who’re you?” The man asks with a frown.

“Doesn’t matter.” Luigi says calmly. “Let her go.”

“Look man, we’re in the middle of a con-“

“Conversation’s over.” Luigi cuts him off, staring pointedly at the hold he still has on your wrist. “Get your hand off of her before I break it.”

The man immediately lets go of your wrist, putting his hands up as he takes a step back.

“Whatever.” The man scoffs, starting to walk away. “This bitch ain’t worth it anyway.”

Luigi takes a step forward, prepared to go after him only for you to come to a stop right in front of him, blocking his way.

“Can we go back?” You ask, looking up at him with wide eyes.

Luigi stares at the man, still considering going after him only for you to get his attention again when you call his name. Well, his fake name.

“Mark?” You say, smiling softly when Luigi looks back at you with an offended frown.

“Yeah.” He finally sighs, looking you over, making sure you’re okay before nodding. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

Luigi turns around and starts making his way towards the bus station, looking over his shoulder occasionally to make sure you’re still following him. After the third time, you fall into step beside him and grab onto his jacket sleeve. Luigi looks over his shoulder at you and you look up at him with a shy smile, silently asking if it’s okay. He doesn’t say anything about it, but he does let you keep holding onto him. He waits until you’re safely back at the station before scolding you.

“The hell were you thinking?” He asks, the moment you reach a table.

“What do you mean?” You ask, taking a seat and setting your bag down next to you.

Luigi mumbles to himself in Italian before letting out an exasperated sigh.

“Dolcezza, you are a beautiful, unaccompanied woman in a strange city, at night.” He lists. “You should know better than going off on your own.”

“You think I’m beautiful?” You ask.

Luigi takes such a deep breath that you think he’s gonna inhale his face mask.

“I don’t think you thought this through.” Luigi comments.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s not too late. You can still turn around and go back.”

“What the hell? I’m not going back to New York because of one minor hiccup.” You scoff.

“Minor hiccup?” Luigi repeats. “You’ve been here for all of thirty minutes and you already had a run in with a scary man-“

“News flash, asshole. There are scary men everywhere.” You tell him harshly. “Why do you think I left?”

Luigi freezes at the news. So he was right. You are running from someone.

“You don’t have to skip town because of him.” Luigi offers. “You can go to the-“

“The cops?” You cut him off. “Yeah. Lot of good that does. All I got was a piece of paper saying he can’t come within 100 yards of me which does jack shit, by the way, considering the fact that he was still stalking me at all hours of the day.”

Luigi doesn’t have anything to say to that. And you don’t blame him.

“I was going to a restaurant, okay?” You tell him. “It was right around the corner, I thought I’d be fine. Obviously I didn’t know I was gonna run into anyone on my way there… I was just hungry…”

Luigi runs a hand down his face and lets out a sigh. He feels like such a dick right now. Grumbling to himself, he takes off his backpack and undoes the zipper, reaching in and placing the bag of sliders on the table. You look from the bag to Luigi in confusion, only for him to set his bottle of water down as well.

“Eat.” He orders, zipping his backpack up.

“… What about you?” You ask softly.

“I’m going to take a walk.” He sighs.

Luigi ends up buying himself some snacks from the vending machine before returning to the table.

“I thought I told you to eat.” He comments, frowning when he sees there’s still two sliders on the table.

“I did.” You nod. “These are yours.”

As soon as he sits down, you slide the food towards him with a grin. Luigi looks between the sliders and you before nodding his head.

“Thanks.” He says, reaching for a slider and unwrapping one.

“I should be the one thanking you.” You murmur sheepishly.

“Don’t.” Luigi cuts you off. “I’m no hero.”

Luigi pushes his hood back and takes off his mask and you finally get to see his face. You take in all his features; his thick brows and hypnotizing brown eyes, his plump lips, and strong jawline.

“What?” Luigi asks, crumpling the wrapper into a ball and reaching for the last slider.

“I was right.” You sigh dreamily, resting your head on your hand as you smile at him. “You are handsome.”

Luigi huffs in amusement, though you don’t miss the pink dusting his cheeks.

“What’s dolcezza?” You ask curiously.

“It’s Italian.”

“You know italian?”

Luigi nods his head.

“Cool. What does it mean?” You continue to pry.

Luigi stares at you for a moment before finally telling you.

“Headache.” He says, taking another bite.

Your shoulders slump and Luigi snickers.

“Does it really?” You ask after a moment, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Mm-hmm.” He nods. “Headache. Nuisance. A pain.”

“I don’t believe you.” You tell him, pulling out your phone. “I’m gonna look it up. How do you spell it?”

“Mm-mm.” He shrugs.

“You just said you know Italian! All of a sudden you don’t know?”

Luigi smiles smugly at you and you narrow your eyes at him.

“That’s it. Give it back.” You order, reaching for what’s left of his slider. “You don’t deserve it.”

“You gave it to me.” Luigi argues, leaning back in his seat so that you don’t reach him.

“You gave it to me first!”

Luigi shoves the last bite into his mouth and grins at you.

“You’re horrible.” You tell him simply before checking your phone for the time.

“Well, I’d say this has been fun, but it hasn’t.” You tease, standing up and grabbing your bag.

“Be careful.” Luigi warns, watching as you gather your belongings.

“Bye Mark.” You reply teasingly, turning around and making your way towards the next bus you’ll be riding.

After getting your ticket scanned, you board the bus, settling into a window seat and placing your duffle bag on the ground. You still have at least fifteen minutes before it's scheduled to depart, so you pull out your phone and start playing a game to pass the time.

Slowly, more and more people start to board, though you don’t pay them any mind. The driver is just about to close the door when one final person steps on.

“Cutting it pretty close, pal.” He complains before finally closing the door.

The man doesn’t say anything, just gets his ticket scanned and starts making his way down the rows of seats. You only look up when someone sits next to you. You gasp when you look to your right and see Luigi settling into the seat beside you.

“This seat taken?” He asks, knowing very well that it isn’t.

“What are you doing here?” You ask excitedly. “I thought you didn’t know where you were going next?”

“Yeah, I thought so too.” Luigi shrugs bashfully, face mask and hood back on. “But I think I just figured it out.”

Luigi’s graced with your beaming smile as you tell him how excited you are that you’re spending the next couple of hours together. He wordlessly nods along but the truth is, he’s just as excited.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You and Luigi spent the last couple hours talking. Well, you did most of the talking, Luigi mainly listened. He learned that you studied business in college but got burnt out after a few years. Now, you’re content working odd jobs. You’ve worked at a pizza parlor, a library, and a boutique. You’ve been an assistant for event coordinators, a receptionist for an attorney’s office and a mail processing clerk. He learned that you’ve been no contact with your family for years and that you never got a drivers license because living in New York, you didn’t really need one. However now you’re worried you’ll look silly going to driving school at twenty six.

You managed to get some information out of Luigi as well, with a lot of poking and prodding. You learned that aside from being handsome and sweet, he’s also ridiculously smart, having graduated from an Ivy League school. You learned that he’s from Maryland and his family still lives there though he hasn’t spoken to them for a few months. He didn’t say why and you didn’t ask. You learned that he’s Italian and he does speak it and he does know what dolcezza means, however he still won’t tell you. Much to your annoyance.

Now here you are, at the Harrison bus station at five o’clock in the morning with a man you’ve known for eight hours, but can’t see yourself traveling without. You don’t know when you’ll have to go your separate ways, but you’re already getting attached to him, so you suppose you should start preparing yourself for your eventual goodbye now.

“Do you need another hot pack?” You ask Luigi as you both wait for the bus driver to come back.

“No, it’s okay. This one is still working.” He shakes his head.

“What is it? Like sciatica?” You ask curiously.

“Spondylolisthesis actually.”

“Sponda-what?” You ask.

“Spondylolisthesis.” He repeats. “It’s a spine condition. Happens when a fracture causes your vertebrae to slip out of alignment.”

“Oh my god.” You exclaim, absolutely horrified. “That sounds painful.”

“It is.” Luigi nods.

“Sorry about your back pain.” You frown sympathetically. “I’d recommend getting it looked at but you know, health insurance here is a fucking con. That’s one scam I can’t afford.”

Luigi whips his head up to look at you.

“Huh?” He asks, because surely he didn’t hear you right.

“I mean, think about it! You pay your premium every single month, even if you don’t see a doctor that month. When you do see your doctor, you have to pay a copay for the visit. And then on top of the premium and the copay, you still get billed afterwards! It’s bullshit! Not to mention all that money they get out of you only to end up denying your medication or your procedures.” You continue to rant. “I’m not gonna pay some company to make me look like an idiot. There are plenty of guys in my DM’s willing to do that for free.”

“I take it you don’t have health insurance?” He asks.

“In this economy? I think the fuck not.” You shake your head.

“So what do you do when you’re sick?” Luigi asks curiously.

“Pray.” You say simply before bursting out laughing. Luigi shakes his head, letting out an amused chuckle before clearing his throat.

“So what do you think about that CEO that-“

“Got murked?” You cut him off before waving your hand. “Man, fuck that guy.”

Luigi just sits there, silently staring at you, and you rush to finish proving your point.

“Okay, yes, murder is bad. We know that. Whatever. But you have to stop and ask yourself, how many people has he killed by denying them their medications? Or their treatment? The only difference between him and the shooter is that he does it without getting his hands dirty because he’s sitting behind a desk.”

Luigi can’t explain the warmth he feels in chest, seeing someone, seeing you be as educated and passionate as he is about everything. He’s starting to see that maybe you’re more alike than he thought. He’s finally starting to accept that maybe, you boarding his bus at the last minute wasn’t luck, but fate.

“You’re on his side, then? The shooter…” Luigi asks, wanting to be sure, needing to hear it bluntly from you.

“Oh, hell yeah.” You nod.

“But…they’re calling him dangerous on the news… A monster…” Luigi trails off.

“The news?” You ask with a roll of your eyes. “Please. Mainstream media is the worst place to get your information. They’ll spin the story whichever way they want so long as it continues to benefit the 1%.”

“Is he a murderer? Sure! Maybe. Who the fuck knows for certain.” You shrug. “But a monster?” You scoff. “He’s a human being. Just like you and me. At the end of the day, whether you’re a hero or a villain all depends on whether or not the government benefits from it.”

Luigi stares at you in complete awe.

“What?” You ask, shyly meeting his gaze.

“No. Nothing.” He shakes his head. “It’s just…you’re really something, aren’t you?”

“Shut up.” You mumble, looking away and gasping when you see the driver walking towards the bus.

“Look! The bus driver’s back! Let’s go!”

You stand from your seat and bound towards the bus while Luigi watches you with a fond smile. You turn around and frown when you see that Luigi isn’t with you. Once you spot him, you wave your hand, urging him to hurry. He stands and grabs his backpack, putting his hood and face mask back on before following after you.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

When you and Luigi arrived in Altoona, more than anything you wanted to walk around and stretch your legs after spending so much time sitting. So that’s exactly what you did. You walked for about an hour before sitting down on a secluded bench in a park.

“Still don’t know where you’re going?” You ask Luigi.

“No, not really.” He shakes his head. “Why?”

You shrug your shoulders and look away but Luigi is having none of that. He gently grabs your chin with his thumb and forefinger, bringing your gaze back onto him.

“You’ve been running your mouth nonstop since the moment I met you. You choose now to go quiet?” He teases, frowning the tiniest bit when you don’t laugh along with him. “What’s wrong, dolcezza?”

“I still don’t know what that means.” You whine.

“Talk to me and maybe I’ll tell you.” Luigi offers.

“I just… I don’t know. I was thinking…” You start rambling nervously. “I don’t fuck with my family and you haven’t talk to yours in a while. And we both left New York and how funny that we met when we did and we happen to get along so well, right?”

“Right…” Luigi nods.

“And okay, so I don’t really have a plan. Just a vague, loose idea of one. But I was thinking, well, more like wondering, but I didn’t really know how to bring it up in conversation. And even now, I still don’t think this is the best way to go about it but-“

“Dolcezza, please.” He sighs, begging you to just get to the point already.

“Why don’t you come to L.A. with me?” You blurt out.

Luigi’s head reels back at the question. He isn’t sure what he was expecting, but it sure as hell wasn’t that.

“Or I go with you… to… wherever you’re going next.” You offer. “But let’s stay together.”

“I just- I really like you.” You mumble shyly.

“I like you too.” Luigi admits with a smile.

“You do?”

“What’s not to like?” He asks, with a fond smile. “You’re beautiful, funny, smart.” He lists before cupping your cheek with his hand. “You’re everything, sweetheart.”

You get a boost of confidence at his confession, leaning forward and placing your lips upon his in a soft, gentle kiss. Luigi responds immediately, head tilting to the side as his mouth continues to move against yours. Luigi nips at your lower lip and you let out a gasp, causing him to chuckle. You hit his shoulder playfully as he presses a final firm kiss to your lips, pulling back and gazing at you with an awestruck smile.

“Yeah.” He finally breathes, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear for you. “Let’s stay together.”

You smile excitedly at Luigi, pressing another chaste kiss to his lips before standing up, pulling him with you.

“Great! So what’s next? Where do you wanna go?” You ask, right as your stomach grumbles.

“I feel like maybe we should eat first.” Luigi teases, chuckling at your sheepish smile. “Come on, I think I saw a McDonald’s a few blocks away.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You’ve just gotten your food when it all comes crashing down. You run to the bathroom, and a moment later two older gentlemen walk in. One of them makes a passing comment to his friend about how Luigi looks like the CEO shooter as they make their way to the register. Luigi doesn’t visibly react, though from the corner of his eye he catches the cashier continuously glancing at him.

Luigi lets out a long, tired sigh as he comes to the realization that this is it. The cashier disappears and he just knows she’s calling the FBI, telling them a murderer is in her establishment. He doesn’t regret any of his actions, not in New York and definitely not when he decided to follow you. The only thing he does regret is letting himself think that he’d have more time with you. Because now reality is sinking in that while the last twelve hours have been momentary bliss, any minute now it’ll all be ripped away from him- you’ll be ripped away from him.

Luigi quickly unzips his backpack, opening the side panel that held his cash. He takes the money out before folding it up and tucking it into your duffel bag. He then grabs your McMuffin, sliding it towards himself, making it seem like he’s the only one sitting here. You come back a minute later, sliding into your seat in the booth across from him with a smile.

“I’m back.” You announce with a grin.

“I need you to do something for me.” Luigi states urgently.

The cold tone of voice causes you to look up at him in concern.

“What?”

Under the table, he slides your duffle bag to you.

“I need you to walk out of here, and not look back.” He starts.

“What?” You repeat with a confused frown.

“Keep your head down and get out of here. As far as you can.” Luigi urges. “Get on another bus, hop on a train, buy yourself a ticket to L.A. like you wanted. I don’t care but you have to go.”

“Luigi, what the hell are you talking about? I-I thought we were sticking together… what’s going on?” You question.

“I’m not who you think I am.” Luigi admits, looking away with shame.

“I don’t think you’re anyone.” You shake your head with a laugh. “I…I just think you’re you… and I like you.”

“You can’t.” Luigi stresses.

“Lu, seriously, you’re scaring me.” You tell him. “What’s going on?”

“Dolcezza, please” He begs, quickly looking out the window and checking for cop cars. “Please. You have to get out of here. You have to go.”

“But…what about you?” You ask softly, eyes starting to water at the thought of leaving him behind, especially so suddenly.

Luigi smiles, desperately wanting to reassure you, though you don’t miss that his eyes are welling up too.

“I’ll be right behind you.” He nods with a sniffle.

With your bottom lip quivering, you nod; grabbing your duffle bag from under the table and standing up. You blink and the tears you were holding back start to fall. Not wanting Luigi to see you cry, not wanting to make this harder for either of you, you quickly turn away, sniffling as you make your way towards the side door.

Once you’re outside, you put the strap of your duffle bag on your shoulder and walk across the street. Before the McDonald’s completely disappears from your line of sight, you turn around and see a swarm of cop cars in the parking lot.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“-CEO was shot early Wednesday morning outside the New York Hilton-“

Click.

“Officers then asked him for identification, and Mangione handed them a New Jersey driver's license bearing the name of a 26-year-old named Mark Rosario. Now that is the same name from a fake New Jersey ID used by a man to check into a Manhattan hostel more than a week before Thompson's killing.”

Click.

“-taken into custody at 9:14 a.m. for gun and forgery charges-“

“Man, this guy is everywhere.” Your coworker Jenny says, changing the tv to yet another channel reporting on Luigi.

“-interestingly though, during the hearing Mangione made an odd request.”

“That’s right, Diane.” The co-anchor says. “The judge allowed Mr. Mangione to receive phone calls from his family, but he didn’t want it; asking instead to send a message. Take a look.”

“Luigi,” His attorney warns. “I strongly advise against-“

“Two sentences.” Luigi barters, ignoring his attorney and looking straight at the judge. “That’s all I ask. Please.”

The judge looks towards his attorney who shrugs his shoulders, clearly just as clueless as she is.

“You can bring the message forward.” The judge tells his attorney. “I’ll decide if it’s safe to share or not.”

Luigi immediately scribbles something down on a notepad, before ripping a scrap of paper off and handing it to his attorney. The attorney reads what’s written and gives Luigi a look before approaching the bench and handing the paper to the judge.

“I wish we had more time together.” The judge reads aloud. “I’m sorry.”

“Thomas Dickey, Mangione’s attorney answered a few questions from the press; here’s what he had to say.”

“Mr. Dickey, what do you think about the note?”

“What can I say? He’s a real Casanova.” He shrugs.

“Mr. Dickey. That message has since gone viral online with many people wondering who he’s talking to. Any idea?”

“What is this a slumber party?” He asks with a chuckle. “A true gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.” He says, causing the media to laugh. “I don’t know. Didn’t even know there was someone until he handed me the note. I’m just as in the dark as you are.”

“Hey, it’s pretty slow right now, do you wanna go take your break?” Jenny asks.

“Yeah,” You nod, giving her a small grin. “Sure.”

“Okay. See you in fifteen. Enjoy your break.”

You grab a pastry and a hot chocolate before heading to the break room.

You did what Luigi asked, booking yourself a plane ticket to L.A. When you got off the plane, all everyone was talking about was the CEO shooter being caught. You were shocked when you found out it was Luigi but not at all surprised to see the outpouring of support he was getting online.

The money he slipped into your bag helped you get by until you were able to get your bearings in Los Angeles. It paid for your hotel, your food, your clothes. Eventually you were able to find an affordable apartment for rent and managed to get a job at a cafe a few days later.

Through it all, you kept your head down and kept yourself busy, staying away from television and social media, if only because you weren’t strong enough to see Luigi everywhere you looked. Sitting in the break room, you open TikTok for the first time in days.

“Just when I thought he couldn’t be more perfect.” One user gushes in a video.

You swipe up, seeing what the next video is.

“So apparently this guy is the total package.” Another user says, this one a man himself. “Smart, rich, ridiculously good looking, and romantic? Oh man. I feel like I should just gift wrap my wife and hand her over at this point.” He jokes with a laugh. “I mean, he is on a whole other level.”

You chuckle before swiping up again.

Immediately the woman on your screen starts screaming.

“Bro.” She gushes. “I wish we had more time together? I’m sorry?? Hello?? I’m ughhhhh.” She groans, throwing herself onto her bed. “You can see it in his eyes. He really meant that. Whoever she is, you just know that she means so much to him. And the fact that he probably just got ripped away from her. I’m-“ she brings a pillow up to her face and lets out a blood curdling scream.

You swipe up again.

This video is different. It’s a clip of Luigi looking over his shoulder during the hearing. He looks right at the camera and it’s almost as if he’s staring right at you. The sound on the video is a loop of the judge reading his note out loud. You spend the rest of your break watching that video.

Luigi looks over his shoulder and stares at the camera.

“I wish we had more time together. I’m sorry.”

Luigi looks over his shoulder and stares at the camera.

“I wish we had more time together. I’m sorry.”

Luigi looks over his shoulder and stares at the camera.

“I wish we had more time together. I’m sorry.”

When your timer goes off, you download the video, saving it to your camera roll before heading back out.

“I wish we had more time together, too.” You sigh to yourself, grabbing a cloth to wipe down the counter.

A Sweet Boy Like Me

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: when Peter gets hit with a truth serum on a mission, he tells you more then he means to

Masterlist

GIF by imtoohot-hotbam-blog

“FRIDAY, what’s the status on the jet?” You asked out loud as you ate your cereal. A minor cold had benched you while the rest of the Avengers went on a mission in the Amazon. You’d been by yourself for nearly a week now and were needing some company.

“The jet should be touching down on the landing pad any minute.” FRIDAY answered you.

“Thank you.” You called back. You finished the rest of your breakfast and by the time you put your bowl in the sink with the rest of your dirty dishes, you heard footsteps in the main entrance. You tried to hide your excitement as you went out to greet the team. You saw all the Avengers standing in the middle of the room looking utterly exhausted except for Peter, who had a huge smile on his face.

“Hey guys. How was the mission?”

“Great rack. Truly immaculate rack.” Peter said and gave you a double thumbs up.

“Oh. What?” You smiled awkwardly and looked at Tony for an explanation. The team looked at each other, no one wanting to be the person that told you what happened. You frowned and folded your arms, looking at each of them until they caved.

“Okay, fine. I’ll tell her.” Tony sighed. “Long story short, Peter got drugged.”

“What?” You gasped and looked at Peter again.

“I have a stinky in my brown hole.” He told you.

“He’s got a what in his what?” You asked the team.

“He has to shit. It’s all he’s been talking about for the 4 hour plane ride back here.” Sam groaned and went to take a seat on the couch.

“Oh my god. Ew. Brown hole?” You looked at Peter in disgust.

“Yessir.” Peter smiled and gave you another double thumbs up.

“Why is it brown? And wait, hold on, why is he on drugs?” You asked again.

“He got hit with a tranquilizer. In the neck.” Steve told you.

“See?” Peter smiled proudly and turned his head to the side. On his neck, you could see a massive red bump that looked like it was about to explode.

“JESUS FUCKING-“ You screamed but everyone on the team quickly motioned for you to stop.

“I mean, it doesn’t look that bad.” You quickly lied.

“Thank you. That’s what I said.” Peter laughed and touched his neck bump. It jiggled under his finger and you turned to the side to gag a little.

“My neck grew a boob.” Peter laughed and poked it again. You covered your mouth with your hand and looked to Tony for answers.

“How did he get drugged exactly?” You asked.

“Well long story short-“

“No. Enough with the long story short. I need to know how this happened. Give me the long story long.”

“I’ll give you the long.” Peter said and looked directly at you. You gave him a strange look as he attempted to wink at you. He ended up using both eyes and just gave you a slow blink.

“Oh my God.” You grimaced and looked away from him.

“Yeah, about that. When he wasn’t talking about having to poop, he spent the last four hours telling me he wanted to put you in 70 positions for 7 minutes.” Shang Chi told you.

“What? Do you mean 7 positions for 70 minutes?” You laughed and eyed Peter curiously.

“No. 70 positions in 7 minutes.” Peter clarified.

“But that’s like…10 positions every minute. That’s not even possible.” You said to Peter.

“Everything is possible when you’re a sweet boy like me.” Peter smiled and did a little spin.

“I’m sorry, what?” You asked the team as you pointed to Peter.

“Friendly reminder that I still have to poop. Just hoping we can circle back to that soon.” Peter announced and moved his hand in a circular motion.

“Go poop. I need to talk to Mr. Stark.” You told him.

“Okay baby.” Peter smiled sweetly at you.

“Don’t call me baby.”

“Okay honey.”

“Don’t call me that either.”

“Okay princess butter buns.”

“Oh my God. That one was just…I don’t even know how to describe that one. Just stop talking and go poop.” You sighed and covered your face with your hands.

“Okay!” Peter clapped his hands before running to the bathroom.

“So what happened?” You asked the team once Peter was gone.

“Long story short-“ Tony began.

“Don’t.” You pointed at him.

“Right. Sorry. Basically, the mission was going super well and we were almost done but then Peter decided he needed to fart while we were in this metal kind of room and it smelled horrible so naturally we both start coughing and gagging, meanwhile the sound of the fart is still echoing off the walls of the metal room. They guards caught him and I about to pass out from his truly lethal fart so we started to run away but they shot him in the neck with a tranquilizer dart. Now he’s cracked out and probably leaving skid marks in one of my toilets.” Tony told you. You were stunned to silence as you mentally pictured everything Tony had just described. You looked behind you at the bathroom that Peter was in before looking back at the team.

“I kinda wish I just left it at the short version.” You admitted.

“As do I.” Tony sighed.

“So wait, what was he talking about on the jet? Other than having to shit, at least. He wants to do what with me?”

“Well it’s no secret that the boy wonder has romantical feelings for you. I think whatever was in the tranquilizer dart loosened him up and now he’s saying everything on his mind. No filter.” Tony explained.

“So basically…” You trailed off as you put it together.

“He wants to fuck.” Tony said, unamused. “I had to listen to him tell me he wanted to fuck you for four hours. In row. My only break from that being when he told me he was about to shit his pants.”

“This is my fault. I saw him drinking regular milk this morning and didn’t stop him. He said he’s be fine.” You chewed your bottom lip and looked at the bathroom that Peter was in.

“Clearly he wasn’t. Because whatever came out of his ass back there on that mission smelled like the inside of a mongoose.” Tony sighed and rubbed his eyes.

“That was a really specific animal to say.” You frowned.

“Mongoose are opportunistic feeders. They eat everything from plants to small birds. Therefore, I imagine their insides smell really bad.” Tony shrugged as he explained his choices.

“How do you know so much about mongooses?” You asked him. “I don’t even know what they look like.”

“That’s so true. What the fuck is a mongoose?” Sam asked the team.

“They’re in the weasel family.” Bruce explained.

“So is Bucky.” Sam snorted.

“Can anybody tell me what a mongoose actually is?” You groaned.

“It’s a goose that’s mon.” Shang chi shrugged.

“But what’s mon?” Natasha asked.

“It’s the abbreviation of Monday.” Bucky said and everyone nodded in agreement.

“So mongeese are just regular geese but on Mondays?” You asked and everyone stopped to think about this.

“Wait, is it mongooses or mongeese?” Natasha wondered.

“I thinks it’s mongooses’s.” Sam answered.

“No. That doesn’t sound right.” Steve shook his head. Everyone started to talk over each other as they debated the correct plural use of the word “mongoose” while others debated what kind of animal a mongoose even was.

“Oh my God. Does it fucking matter?” Tony asked loudly, making everyone go silent.

“Jesus Christ. That was the single most infuriating conversation I’ve ever been apart of. It can be mongooses or mongeese. But it doesn’t matter. Because none of you are ever gonna need to use the plural of mongoose in a sentence. So everybody just shut up!” Tony continued. Everyone looked down in shame and Tony let out a little groan.

“You guys drive me to drink.” He said and rubbed his face again.

“I’m done!” Peter called from the bathroom suddenly.

“Congratulations! Do you want someone to come in there and wipe your ass?” Sam shouted back to humor Peter.

“That would be nice!”

“Okay. Bucky will be right there.” Sam shouted again and pushed Bucky towards the bathroom.

“I’m gonna kill your parents.” Bucky wiped around and pointed a small knife at Sam’s throat.

“Damn.” Sam backed up. “Why does every reaction from you have to be so hostile? You did the same thing when I stepped on the back of your shoe the other day.”

“You gave me a flat tire. I had to stop walking and fix my shoe. I hate doing that!” Bucky said through gritted teeth.

“Y’all, who fed Bucky after midnight?” Sam asked in annoyance. “You know he gets crabby when his blood sugar is too high.”

“I swear if I spend one more second with you people, I’m gonna do a swan dive off the top of this tower.” Tony interrupted their conversation.

“You should do a flip.” Sam said seriously, making Tony stare at him for a long time.

“Or a backflip.” Bucky added after a beat of silence.

“Is anyone coming to help me?” Peter called from the bathroom before Tony could retaliate.

“Jesus Christ. I’m gonna go check on him.” You groaned and went over to the bathroom. You knocked on the door a few times and Peter opened it up, still wearing his suit.

“Hey pretty lady.” He said slyly and leaned against the doorframe.

“Hey. How’s it going in there?”

“Pretty good. Do you ever look at the shit you just took and think that that’s the biggest size dick you could take? Like, up your butt?” Peter asked you in a genuine manner. You shut your eyes and slowly sat down on the ground in complete silence. Peter watched you curiously as you buried your face in your hands.

“What’s wrong?” Peter wondered. You stayed silent and kept your head down in your hands, refusing to look at him.

“Was it something I said?” Peter asked again.

“Yes. It was. Never say anything that you just said again.”

“Okay.” Peter shrugged and sat down next to you. He looked at you for a minute before taking your face in his hands and pressing your foreheads together. He scrunched his nose while letting out a strained groan as if he was trying to push something out of his body.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to read your mind to see if you like me back.” Peter said and strained himself again.

“I really hope you washed your hands.” You grimaced but let him hold your face for another minute.

“I did. Wanna smell?” Peter didn’t wait for an answer and held his fingers up to your nose.

“Okay. Sea Island Cotten. At least they’re clean.”

“They don’t have to be.” Peter said and slowly winked at you.

“Don’t do that. Why did you wink like that? Don’t ever do that again.”

“Okay.” He said with an ever slower wink.

“Wait, did you put your suit back on after going to the bathroom? Why would you do that?” You asked when he noticed what he was wearing.

“Oh. I don’t know.” Peter shrugged and looked down at his suit. He stood up and pressed the button in the center of his suit, allowing it to slip off and look around his ankles. He stepped out of it and folded it, leaving him in just his boxers. You stared at him with a dropped jaw for a moment, always taken aback when you were reminded what kind of body Peter had under his clothes. Peter noticed you staring at him and looked down at his body.

"What’s wrong? Are you stunned to silence over my sexy body?” Peter asked with genuine concern.

“Honestly, yeah. That’s exactly what’s happening here.” You admitted.

“One time you twisted in your chair to crack your back and your shirt rode up a little and I said your bare right hip and the upper part of your side and I think about that all the time.” Peter told you.

“Oh?”

“Another time you were bent over and I didn’t see you and you stood up when I was right behind you and your butt touched my penial area and I had to go lay down.”

“Penial area?” You whispered to yourself.

“Sometimes I think that I’m in love with you.” Peter continued. Your eyes flew open and you couldn’t help the smile that broke out on your face. You quickly wiped the smile off and stood up.

“Okay. Let’s get you to bed, yeah?” You asked and started to bring Peter towards his bedroom.

“Can you lay with me?” Peter whined and buried his head in your neck.

“Yeah. Just for a little while. You need someone to take care of you.” You smiled shyly at his action.

“I do. I also need someone to hold my hand and kiss me and sleep in my bed and hold me and play with my hair-“

“Okay-“ You tried to interrupt.

“-and tell me when my breath smells and send me good mornings texts and tell me they love me and-“

“Okay. I get it. You want a girlfriend.” You finally cut him off.

“I do! You’re so smart. You should be my girlfriend.” Peter insisted as you went into his bedroom together. He took you by both of your hands and led you towards his bed.

“Do you know what you’re saying right now?” You asked through a nervous laugh. You wanted to believe he was beige serious, but you knew it was probably just the drugs talking.

“Of course I do. I’m saying that I have feelings for you and I want you to be my girlfriend.” Peter said as if it were the most simple thing in the world.

“Oh.” You gulped and felt your heart skip a beat. Peter went over to his pajama drawer and pulled on some flurry pink Hello Kitty okays but stayed shirtless.

“I’m also saying that I’m comfortable pining after you and continuing our friendship but if you ever wanted more then I want that too.” Peter told you as he stepped into his pants.

“I feel the same way.” You admitted before you realized what you were saying. You just got so excited that he had perfectly described your feelings that you didn’t think about the consequences.

“You do?” Peter asked hopefully.

“Yeah. I do.”

“Can you tell me that again when I’m not coked out on tranquilizer?” Peter asked as he climbed into his bed. You bent down beside his bed and brushed his hair off his forehead.

“I don’t know. Maybe. If I’m feeling brave.” You said as you continued you play with his hair in the way you knew he liked.

“I hope you feel brave.” Peter sighed happily and rested his head down on his pillow. You stroked his hair until his eyes slowly fluttered shut and his breathing slowed. Once you thought he was asleep, you stood up and went to leave. Peter sat up suddenly and caught your wrist.

“Please kiss me.” He said in the softest tone you’d ever heard from him. You smiled at the request but shook your head.

“I can’t. You’re high.”

“And you’re hello. Now kiss me.” He smiled and tugged you closer.

“That’s not what I meant.” You chuckled and knelt down beside him again.

“What did you mean?”

“I mean you don’t actually want me to kiss you. You’re just high and confused.” You reminded him.

“Yeah. But I’m high and confused and in need of a kiss from a pretty girl.” He pointed and cupped your chin between his fingers.

“You think I’m pretty?” You asked as a smile tugged at your lips.

“You don’t?” Peter scoffed, making your smile grow. When he saw that he was winning you over, he got the courage to go on. He sat up a little more in his bed and tilted your face towards his.

“I think I could stare at you for 7 minutes and find 70 things I love about your face.” He said softly as he stared at your lips.

“That’s like 10 things every minute.” You replied, eyes on his lips as well.

“Just 10? Then nah, I could find way more.” He insisted.

“Were you just surprised that 70 divided by 7 is 10?” You laughed softly.

“No but every time I remember 8 times 7 is 59 I get a stabbing pain in my side.” Peter replied seriously.

“8 times 7 is 56. Not 59.”

“Gross. That’s way worse.” Peter scrunched his nose. You laughed at him before looking at him skeptically.

“Do you actually like me or are you just on drugs?”

“I can be both on drugs and like you at the same time. The two can coexist.” Peter said simply.

“So how come you never told me before now?”

“Being in love with your best friend is not the easiest thing in the world to talk about.” Peter said a little sadly.

“Yeah. I know the feeling.” You smiled softly. Peter studied your face for a moment before pressing his forehead against yours again.

“You’re my best friend. You’re the number one person I want to talk to about having a crush. But you are my crush. So I kept it inside. Until some guys shot my neck with a tranquilizer dart and all my inside thoughts splooshed out.”

“Well I’m happy they splooshed out. I’m glad I know now.”

“You are?”

“I am. Because I like you too.”

“You do? Even with my fat neck?”

“Even with your fat neck.” You chuckled.

“So kiss me.” He whined.

“I can’t.” You whined back. “Not until you’re sober.”

“Why?” He groaned and flopped back down on his pillow.

“Because want to be sober enough to remember our first kiss, don’t you?”

“Yeah. You’re right. As always.” He sighed and pulled his covers up to his chin. You smiled softly before leaving down to kiss his forehead.

“Maybe tomorrow.” You whispered against his skin.

“Really? Tomorrow you think?” He asked in excitement.

“I said maybe.” You said pointedly. “Only if I’m feeling brave.”

“Okay. Then I hope you feel brave tomorrow.” Peter smiled in satisfaction and snuggled into his covers. You went to leave again but Peter took your hand.

“Stay with me?” He asked in a way that made it impossible to say no. You playfully rolled your eyes but got into the bed. Peter smiled in satisfaction and wrapped your arms around himself so that you were spooning him. You gave into his desire and held him tightly as you made sure to avoid the swollen lump on his neck.

You soon fell asleep and ending up sleeping through the night. When you woke up the next morning, you and Peter were still tangled together. You sat up and stretched, accidentally waking Peter up as well. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, his hair sticking up in every direction. You laughed a little at the sight of his bed head before noticing the swelling on his neck had gone down and all he had was a bruise.

“Hey, your neck is skinny again.” You said and gently touched his neck.

“Thank God.” He sighed.

“How do you feel?”

“Like I was inside a mongoose.” Peter groaned and rubbed his face.

“How does every body know what a fucking mongoose is- you know what? Never mind. I don’t care anymore. And I know the feeling. I feel that way every time I listen to Somebody Else by the 1975.”

“So true. Fuck that, get money.”

“Fuck that, get money.” You nodded in agreement. Peter remembered the conversation you had before he fell asleep and looked at you, wondering if you remembered it too.

“What about you? How do you feel?” Peter asked coyly. You looked into his eyes and knew exactly what he was thinking about.

“Brave.”

“Brave? What the hell does that mean?” Peter asked you. Peter watched your face fall and immediately felt bad for the joke.

“I’m totally kidding. I remember. Kiss me.” He laughed and slipped a hand behind your head to pull you into a kiss. You leaned in and kissed Peter back, reaching up to tangle your fingers in his messy bed hair. Peter pulled you into his lap so that he could deepen the kiss. You made out on his bed for a minute until you were interrupted by Tony opening the door.

“Hey guys, did you want -stop screaming it’s just me- did you want pancakes?”

Tony asked. “Because I made way too many again. The entire kitchen is covered in stacks. Literally every surface in the kitchen has a comically large stack of pancakes on it.”

“Ugh. Why do you keep doing that?” You asked him for the millionth time.

“Because it makes me feel like fancy little rich bitch to use an entire cartoon of eggs on a single making of pancakes, okay? Happy now?” Tony snapped back.

“Yes. We’ll be down in a minute.” You mumbled in embarrassment.

“Cool. Try not to swallow each other.” Tony snorted before closing the door. You and Peter sat in awkward silence for a minute before looking at each other. You broke the tension by holding out your hand for him to take. Peter smile and slipped his fingers between yours before kissing the back of your hand.

“What do you say? Do you want to go get some pancakes?” You asked him.

“Does a mongoose have an immunity to snake venom?” Peter asked like it was obvious.

“I have no fucking idea.”

Peter laughed and leaned in to kiss you one last time before getting off the bed.

“Yes, they do. Now come on. Let’s go get some pancakes.”

Tag List 🏷️

@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @serendipitous-amor @tom-hollands-wifey @20fandomfangirl

@lavender-writer @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl

@jackiehollanderr @mara-twins @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow

@unbelievableholland @flixndchill @sovereignparker @thisisthebiplace @every-marveler-ever

@undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave​ @itscaminow​ @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild

@canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman

@smilexcaptainx @quaksonhehe @kelieah @seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger

@electraheart-3174 @unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess @horanxholland

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie @tomshufflepuff

@maybemona @alexxcorona113





@lethal-wisdom @xo-spidey @pandaxnienke  @thestylestour  @officialsimppage

@mrvelscaptains @peterbenjiparker @itsemohours @okkulta @parkerlovebot @jungkxxkk @olixerwxxd @starkbrain @ilovefrogs1000

@itstaskeen @wrendermeuseless @amazinggracy @iprobablyshipit91 @magicalxdaydream @whereismytelephone @leilanixx @namoreno

@dracoswhore007 @tomhollandloml @avengers-hamiltrash @gh0stgurl @so-very-asleep

@veryholland @white-wolf1940 @spideycheles @firwproof

@nowayhomeparker @imobsessedzs @spideyspeaches @bookfrog242 @hihiweezing

@mathletemadison @mackenziejanine @dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things

watching topgun maverick ruined my life, before that movie i could've grown up to be the president for all we know, now im just a whore

The Stable Girl Masterlist

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: soft but hesitant!joel develops a crush on reader, the new horse trainer at the stables. he’s reluctant to believe that he deserves someone as good as you, but with everyone falling in love and finding happiness around him, he can’t help but start to feel hopeful too.

series rating: E (MINORS DNI)

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four*

Chapter Five*

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

(all other chapters tba)

extras

tlou crash course for beginners

insane thoughts hours but i really can't stop thinking about being in the middle of a lewis + fernando sandwich... what do you think

it's insanely competitive - the moment they get you back to a hotel room, though you're not sure whose of theirs it is, you get the sense this might be more about a silent set of mind games between the two of them, and less about you.

the position keeps changing and it's hard to keep up with who's where, with whose hands are doing what to you. you don't really understand what the goal of this is, until lewis takes you apart on his tongue and fingers, sucking on your clit as you orgasm with his name moaned around fernando's cock.

it's like a switch has been flicked, then. fernando manhandling you so you're on his lap, your back to lewis (and fernando grins at his glare), sliding three, even four fingers into you and setting a relentless pace until you're biting down a scream into the thick muscle of his neck and squirting all over his hand.

you don't get to recover before lewis is pulling you back towards him, positioning you on your hands and knees before burying himself to the hilt in your oversensitive cunt, telling you to keep looking at fernando, baby as you gasp for breath with how fucking deep he is inside you. that's what this game is -- one upping each other with your body, showing off who is better.

(and, of course, if fernando makes you squirt, lewis needs to match it, beat it.)

fernando pulls you under him and hoists your legs to his shoulders after lewis makes you orgasm again, soaking the sheets one more, sobbing his name and digging your nails into his biceps. nando is equally merciless, slowly rolling his hips deep, your thighs pressed up to your chest, before setting a brutal pace.

when you cum again, you're limp on the bed, moaned names collapsing into incoherent moans and whines. when lewis slides his fingers into your cum-slicked pussy once again, you faintly register how deliciously, painfully long this night is going to be.

Could I get 3: Accidental groping or 5: Fake out make out with Cassian Andor?

dont ask abt how bad i want this to be me rn

You weren’t thinking straight when Cassian pulled you into a spare room at this brothel on Correllia. All you were thinking of was the intel and escape. Anything to make that happen. It wasn’t long after the data was secured that storm troopers were invading the building. Clearly, someone had triggered some kind of alarm, and as people not participating in the activities of the building, you stuck out like a sore thumb. You’d be arrested for sure, or as Cassian always jokes, you’d take each other out before you could let that happen.

You’re still not thinking straight when Cassian pushes you further into the room, tugging off your jacket and throwing it to the side as you bounce onto the bed in front of him. The door is shut, but none of the doors in this place lock, so you have to just hope the troopers respect privacy while clearly searching for you.

You’re definitely not thinking straight when Cassian whispers a little “sorry” before capturing your lips with his own and lowering himself down on top of you on the bed. Your mind is swimming as you kiss back immediately, all lips and tongue and teeth and Cassian groans into your mouth. The kiss is deep, with Cassian taking the lead and moving his tongue deeper as his hands plant themselves on either side of your head.

You’re not thinking when your hands come up around his waist, pulling him in closer, flush against you. Maybe its because he smells good, or maybe its because you hear hurried footsteps outside the door.

Theres a knock at the door, and Cassian reaches down to grab your leg, hooking it around his hip. You moan, but you’re not sure if you meant to.

The door opens, and his hand slides down your thigh.

“Sorry for the intrusion,” a slightly modified voice interrupts your kiss, and Cassian only rips his mouth from yours long enough to shout.

“Get out!” his voice is hoarse, husky, and you can feel heat flooding you. He turns back to you the second the door slides closed again, and his hand slips farther.

The second his hand connects with the curve of your ass however, he freezes.

And now you’re thinking straight. He looks cute like this, flustered and blushing, wide eyed and looking down at you

“I-I’m sorr-“ but you cut him off before he can apologize.

“Don’t be.”

And as you pull him back in for another kiss, he squeezes your ass, hard. On purpose this time.

Anything II (König x Reader)

Summary: A lack of information from the chain of command results in König mistaking you for an enemy sniper. The altercation ends in your hospitalisation and when you've finally recovered, Price assigns the same man who destroyed you to teach you how to never let it happen again.

Requested by: Literally fucking everyone.

A/N: I genuinely hope this isn't dog shit and a complete letdown.

Category: Angst || Hurt/Comfort || Forced Proximity || Enemies to ?

Warnings: Graphic language, graphic description of PTSD episode, graphic description of unintentional self-inflicted injury.

Previous Chapter

You had thrown up. Twice.

Pressure snaked its way from your chest to your throat and nausea gripped your stomach. You felt deeply unsettled. Your fingers shook, your face was gaunt- you hadn’t slept properly in days. You were a mess.

All because of him.

You cussed beneath your breath, bouncing on your toes lightly. You were due for another training session and considering you’d bailed on the last one, you couldn’t afford to skip it again. You’d received an earful from Price for walking out after your conversation with König.

That fucker had reported back to the Captain that you’d simply ‘discussed the terms of the agreement.’

You slapped your thighs. Then, you hit them harder. The sharp pain jolted your system, and you used the distraction to force yourself out the door. The more you dwelled on it, the more you needed to vomit again.

This time, König was waiting for you.

He sat on the bench, legs spread and his head down. He was fidgeting with his gloves and, had you not known any better, you’d have thought that maybe you’d snuck up on him. But you did know better. König was aware of your presence the second you entered the hallway.  

You sucked in a breath as he finally looked up, pretending that he’d only just noticed you. His features were obscured by his hood, giving you no indication of his reaction. He felt inhuman, there was no tug of his lips or twitch in his cheek- only an emerald gaze that stripped you of your courage. 

“Birdy,” König tipped his head in greeting, your name soft on his lips. Your chest tightened at the sound of his voice. You hated when he spoke like that, low and from his chest. You wished he would yell, you wished he would be boisterous— anything to drown his promises of death in your ear. 

“Your fight is finished.” 

You didn’t acknowledge him. You didn’t say his name. Instead, you slowly entered the room and moved to the farthest side from him. Your heart beat wildly against your ribs and the nausea you’d felt earlier was back in full swing. 

“The sooner we start, the sooner you can leave,” König reminded you, flicking his gaze across your attire. 

“Then start,” you snapped. The man blinked at your aggression and his fidgeting fingers fell still. For a long moment, neither of you spoke. That emerald gaze was pinned to your figure, steady and inquisitive and terrifying. He straightened up from where he was slouched over, his seated form already taller than you standing. 

“What can I do to make you more comfortable with this arrangement?” König spoke slowly, each word enunciated with careful control over his tone. Your heart dropped to your stomach, he was getting frustrated. 

You wanted to spit at him that the only way you’d ever be comfortable was if he were to leave. You wanted to shout at him to fuck right off back to KorTac and never show his face again; that’s what would ease your mind. 

But, as he held his body deathly still, that stare trained on yours- you reminded yourself of what he was capable of. 

“The mask,” you whispered, cursing yourself for the way your voice shook. 

König finally moved, leaning back into the bench as he took in a long breath. He waited for you to continue, to pitch your proposition, but your mouth had gone dry and your tongue had fallen limp. When he realized that you weren’t going to offer anything more, he nodded his head, clasping his hands together tightly. 

“You want me to…” König bounced his leg, clearing his throat as he sat up straight. “You want me to take it off?” 

You nodded your head. König said nothing. The sinking feeling that he just might reject your request began to worry you. He could say no and there would be nothing you could do to argue that, you were still required by order to do these training sessions regardless of whether he agreed to your requests or not. 

You swallowed thickly, scrubbing your nose to break the eye contact between you both. You couldn't stand it. 

"I can't do this if you're wearing that thing," you waved vaguely at his face, keeping your eyes low. "It- I just-" 

Frustration burned in your chest as you flailed to articulate your feelings. You couldn't tell him outright that his stupid fucking mask plagued your dreams every night. You couldn't tell him about the terror that gripped you by the throat whenever you laid eyes on it. 

König didn't let you finish, anyway. He reached for his hood, swiftly pulling it from his head and, again, you were thrown off kilter by his appearance. 

His brows were furrowed as he observed you from beneath his lashes. "I know." 

He knew what you were trying to say. 

"Shall we start?" He asked, slowly standing to his feet. And, despite it being painfully obvious that he was keeping his body language open, you still took an inadvertent step back. You cursed beneath your breath when he straightened up to his full height, the urge to run from the room was almost overwhelming. König triggered your fight or flight response and your body was a slave to its survival instincts. 

You sucked in a breath, forcing yourself to stay still as he approached. 

"What are we doing?" You forced the question from your throat, trying to distract yourself from the hulking figure moving closer. 

"Ground defence." 

Your heart seized in your chest. 

"I don't want to do this," you said as calmly as you could. Your pulse climbed rapidly as König's gaze softened. 

"I know," he murmured. "But neither of us has a choice." 

You didn't give a fuck about him or his choices. You couldn't care less whether he was here of his own volition or if he'd been ordered to take care of your training; you only cared about the fact that he was twice your size and had nearly murdered you once before. 

You couldn't believe that Price was allowing this. 

Betrayal stung in your chest. 

Actually, what you really couldn't believe was how this cunt was even allowed to be here. 

Clearly, you were dispensable. 

Maybe you had overestimated your importance to the team, maybe you had misunderstood the bond between you all. You'd been replaced by your own aggressor and Price had allowed it. 

Clearly, you hadn't meant as much as you thought to the 141.

“Birdy.” 

You jumped, tripping backward into the bench behind you. You stared wide-eyed at König who was equally as startled by your reaction. 

“What?”You snapped, straightening up as though nothing had happened, as though he hadn’t almost frightened you out of your skin. 

He hesitated before continuing, the side eye he shot you was clearly one of concern. Disgusting. “I need you to lie on your stomach.” 

“No.” The word fell from your mouth before you’d even realized it. 

König raised a single brow. “You want this to happen again?” 

He gestured at your swollen cheeks, the fresh scarring from your stitches that littered your face. The man referenced you like an artist would show off their masterpiece. 

“Only to you,” you said, your voice sickly sweet as you forced a bitter smile to your lips. The fluid in your cheeks felt like liquid fire beneath your skin at the movement, but the way his expression fell made the pain worth it. 

“Then get on the floor so I can teach you how,” König crossed his arms, carefully schooling his features to give away nothing- but it was too late. You saw that you’d hurt him with the comment, or at least affected him enough to feel satisfied. 

Your small victory gave you enough courage to lie down. 

Your logic reminded you to immediately regret it. 

Konig’s knee came into your vision as he knelt by your prone body. You couldn’t see his upper body, you couldn’t see where his hands were. He made no noise to indicate what he was going to do and your spine seized along our back.

You didn’t want to do this. 

Not again. 

“König,” you rasped, pressing your hands into the floor. “König, I don’t want to do this.” 

Your breath was too fast, you felt like you were channelling air in through your mouth just to be sent right back out. It was as though you were rapidly suffocating, not getting any oxygen to fill your lungs, the room spinning from where you lay. 

“Birdy, you need this,” König reminded you from above. The words sounded distant and muffled like someone had placed their hands over your ears and spoken softly.

You gasped loudly as the man behind you straddled your back, the mass of his body resting against the lower half of your extremely fragile spine. You wanted to buck and kick and scream until he was forced off of you but your mouth was dry and words evaded you. 

“I want to teach you how to spin onto your back first,” König said, his hands resting lightly on your shoulders. “You can’t win from your stomach.” 

You couldn’t win on your back either. 

“No,” you said firmly, twisting experimentally from beneath him. “No, get off. I’m not doing this.” 

There was a sharp sigh from behind you and instead of moving from his position, König began applying pressure. Your chest sunk into the ground as he leant just a fraction of his weight onto your body. 

“Then get me off.” 

The floor was hard against your body, it felt like your ribs were collapsing from beneath you. You could barely breathe as it was and now you were gasping like a fish out of water. There were so many things he could do to you from this position, so many ways he could torture you and you wouldn’t be able to defend yourself.

You tried to press upwards with your hands in an attempt to relieve the pressure from your chest. It was fruitless considering the 130 kilograms of muscle pressing your face into the floor, but you tried again. Then again. 

You were beginning to sweat, your palms slipping on the floor. Your arms shook from the exertion and you could feel your resolve slipping, your control spiralling from your grasp. 

“Get the fuck off me,” you wheezed, that same ugly pressure clawing its way up your ribs and into your throat. “König, I’m serious. Get off.” 

“Listen to me and I’ll teach you how to get out of this yourself,” König’s voice was firm. There was no room to argue, the bite in his tone enough to put the fear of God into you.  “Pull your knee up beside you, slide forward to get up onto your knees and roll me off to the side.” 

You followed his instruction, forcing yourself to breathe as evenly as you could. Your skin burned where he touched, your body screaming at his presence atop of you. 

Get him off, off, off. 

The weight of his body eased as he let you perform the maneuver. He was too heavy and you were too tired to pull that move off without his help, but you didn’t care anymore. You’d do anything for him to get the fuck away from you, you’d do anything for him to never touch you again. 

Konig rested his weight back down, straddling your hips as you lay on your back now, facing upward. 

The exact same position of that night. 

Your breathing picked up and your hands began to tremble. The sensation of excess adrenaline flooding your body, a feeling that you were familiar with, rendering you shaking but incapacitated. 

The hood was on his face again and his eyes were wild and manic. You’d never seen that look in a mans eyes before, you knew then that he was going to kill you. The emerald glint of his psychotic glare was all that you could see. It was so dark and he was so fast, you weren’t able to predict his moves because you couldn’t fucking see them. He was a shadow, he was death incarnate. Your body was on fire, your lungs screaming from within your chest. 

The monster’s eyes drifted to your chest and you followed his gaze. The handle of a knife jutted from above your breast bone and you snap your eyes back to his. Blood sprayed in the space between the both of you as he twisted the knife in your chest. You’d forgotten the noise that it had made, your punctured lung sucking air from the bloody wound with a wet gasp. 

König’s eyes were hard as he reached for your face, fingers outstretched and closing in across your vision. 

Not again. 

Not again. 

“Birdy!” 

You bucked, you heaved, you fought off his grip. You knew what was going to happen, you knew what came next. This time, your brain matter would be smeared across the floor, this time he would finish you off. 

You clawed at the fingers wrapped across your face desperately, trying to draw enough blood for him to flinch away. You ripped at his skin as hard as you could manage, screaming against his palm. 

“Birdy, stop!” 

Nothing was working, nothing could stop him. You dragged your nails across his fingers, driving them into the divots of his cuticles in an attempt to deglove his skin from bone. 

“Jesus Christ, get a fucking sedative!” 

When König smashed your head into the concrete, you were grateful for the darkness that ensued. 

You didn’t have that privilege last time. 

____

The first sense you regained was smell. 

And, by God, did you fucking hate that smell. 

The scent of disinfectant flooded your olfactory system so viciously that you were forced up in your seat. You scrubbed at your eyes desperately, praying to whoever the fuck was listening that you weren’t where you thought you were. 

White lights flooded your vision and you cringed back into the cushions, pressing your palms into your eyes. 

“Easy, Birdy. Easy.” 

That familiar cockney accent served as a warning. Gloved hands tugged your fists down from your face and you tried to regain control of your breathing, eyes squeezed shut.

“Ghost?” You rasped. Your voice was barely a squeak, and you realized with a frown that you’d lost it somehow. 

“Thought I’d come pay you a visit.” 

You slowly attempted to regain your sight, blinking away the blurriness and the harshness of the down lights. You gingerly observed your surroundings, heart sinking to your stomach as you recognised the room. 

You’d been on this bed for weeks during your recovery from the incident. 

Same hospital, same room, same bed. 

You felt nauseas. 

Swallowing the bile threatening to make an appearance, you dragged your gaze to the seat by your bed. Ghost sat so still you could have mistaken him for a piece of furniture had you not been actively looking for him. 

The man watched you carefully, his hoodie raised over his head and the balaclava perched firmly over the lower half of his features. 

“When did you get back?” You asked, cringing at the broken sound of your voice. Ghost exhaled through his nose and his eyes softened under your scrutiny, an expression you’d never seen before flickering across his gaze. You were disoriented, still unsure of how he had gotten there or what you were doing there. 

“Yesterday.” 

You froze, eyes widening as Ghost waited for you to come to the realization. 

“How long have I been in here?” You cried, the words gutted by your vocal fatigue. “What the fuck happened?” 

“You need to take a breath,” Ghost leaned forward, his hand pressing lightly against your shoulder, prompting you to lay back into the cushions. 

“No, you need to tell me what happened, Simon,” you reinforced, throwing a hand to your chest. You pressed against the skin, as though you could force your lungs to slow down with just a touch. 

Ghost made a noise from the back of his throat, strangled and uncomfortable. You could tell that he hadn’t expected you to wake up while he was there. 

“You…” And for the first time in nearly a decade, you heard Simon Riley hesitate. 

Your mouth was dry as you realised the severity of what had happened, the anxiety of not knowing what you’d done ripping at your chest. Your eyes were pleading now, begging him to just come out with it, to tell you the truth. 

That stormy gaze was sympathetic. It made you tremble. 

“You had an incident, Birdy.” Ghost said slowly, deliberating over his words carefully. “An episode.” 

“An episode?” You questioned, narrowing your gaze. “The fuck do you mean an episode?” 

Ghost didn’t shift in his seat the way König did when under pressure, he didn’t fidget or bounce his leg. Simon Riley sat still like a cold-blooded creature, watching you from the darkest corner of the room with a cool, steady gaze. 

“PTSD, Birdy.”

You blinked slowly. 

“During your ‘training’ with that cunt,” Ghost spat the words, his eyes shifting to the side as he centred himself. “We heard your screaming as we were on the way back in.” 

“We?’ You rasped, dread settling in your stomach. 

“Me and Johnny,” Ghost clarified. He exhaled softly, shaking his head. “You had to be sedated, kid.” 

The skin on your cheek stung sharply before you could process that bombshell. You frowned, attempting to ignore it in favour of uncovering what had happened. Ghost was never one to beat around the bush, always outright and as ‘blunt as a cunt’, in Soap’s words. 

So, why was he now omitting a key part of the story? 

The skin beneath your eyes stung again, this time demanding your attention. You began to sweat at the sudden severity of the pain, hands flying to your face to diagnose the issue.

Ghost moved before you could blink, striking out like a cobra. His hands gripped your wrists, keeping them from scouring over the skin. Your eyes were wide as you appraised him, bent over your bed, your hands suspended in his grip between the both of you. 

Your eyes narrowed. He mimicked the expression. 

You shoved at his body, ripping your hands from his hold. You needed to get to a mirror. Throwing yourself off the side of the bed, you gasped as your knees buckled from their sudden use. Simon gripped your bicep, pulling you upright with ease, but you tugged against him immediately. 

“Don’t fucking touch me.” 

He retracted his hand as though he’d been burned. 

You stormed into the bathroom, the door smashing against the rubber stop glued to the wall. The lights flickered to life as you bashed the switch with the bottom of your closed fist. 

You could have thrown up. 

Gauze pads covered both your cheeks, stained pink from what you realized was blood. Your face was bleeding. A whimper fell from your lips as you reached for the dressing, peeling it slowly from your skin. Your mouth fell open at the slow reveal of what hid beneath the gauze. 

A strangled cry ripped from your throat. 

Claw marks. 

Jagged, deep wounds, tearing down the length of your face; raw, bleeding and fresh. 

You couldn’t breathe. 

Distantly, you could see Ghost standing behind you in the mirror, his gaze solemn and his hands clenched. You couldn’t ask the question, couldn’t form the words but you didn’t have to. Simon had understood you back when you were eating from a straw, your eyes so puffy you couldn’t open them for days. 

His hand came to rest on your shoulder, the only comfort he could offer as you stared at your mangled reflection, yet again. 

“You were screaming for him to get off,” Ghost began, his fingers tightening against your burning skin. “The fucker was standing next to me.” 

Blood dribbled down the distinct lines engraved into your flesh, tracing the length of your throat and disappearing down your hospital gown. The both of you watched it trail your prickled skin, but you couldn’t move, suspended in time and trapped with the image before you.

Simon’s voice was barely a whisper when he spoke.

“You thought his hands were on your face.”

_____

NEXT CHAPTER

____

Taglist:

@carnnieval @mmmothballz @corgideer @classickook @je-suis-argent-miel @actuallyanita @o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o @msecho19 @svnflowery @lenasvoid @teacupcollector @voxsdarling @qualityearthquakes @misshoneypaper @eldritch-bunny @vienettacream @untoldshortsofthefandoms @blue-heart-butterfly @deceiverofgods @brainstormbby @angsty-microwave @amatis-gray @xoneaboveallx @avengingwitcher @iwantmethgivememeth @kyojooto @sinnerburrito

Please tell me if you'd like to be added or taken off x

:/

“my child is fine” your child wants to marry multiple fictional characters

tonight i feel like more

summary: dry humping. sub daryl (but he doesn’t know it) lets goo. awkward sex. probably ooc. they do everything but kiss LMAOO.

inspired by that one s2/3 panel where norman says if someone tried to kiss daryl he’d start crying cause he isn’t ready for all that. hasnt left my head since i watched it. title from digital bath by deftones

dry humping farm era daryl :( coming out to his secluded tent one night under the guise of checking on his injuries and your playful flirting gets too real too fast somehow. you’re both pent up from what feels like months of tension that you can’t even bother to shed your clothes— or maybe daryl just isn’t ready to cross that threshold yet— it doesn’t even matter because the moment you sit yourself on his broad lap and feel the hard, thick outline of him pressed against you through your clothes, you forget to care.

he’s instantly whining at the friction, ducking his head and using your neck to shield you from seeing how red his face has grown, how embarrassed he is that simply talking to you has made him so hard. you do it on purpose, talking to him in that sweet, endearing tone that you know drives him crazy. constantly teasing him with your eyes and touches until he scoffs off your advances. in your defense, the effect you have on him is just too addicting not to play with a little.

“aw, dar, don’t be shy.” you giggle out quietly, your soft arms coming to rest on his shoulders and intertwine behind his back. “look at me.”

the defiant grunt he lets out doesn’t have the same effect when it cracks with desire. like yanking the leash on a dog, you pull the hair at the nape of his neck firmly enough to send him into action. his pupils are dilated, but his eyes remain squinted stubbornly even as he does as he’s told.

“what? we gonna make out all night like a coupla teenagers?” he attempts to be snarky, but the nervous tremor in his voice betrays him.

“why, is that the farthest you’ve ever gone?” it’s half joking, half a genuine question.

from what you’ve heard, daryl had spent most of his life following merle around like a lost puppy pre-apocalypse. you wonder if any significant others had filled some of the space in between, and a part of you is jealous just thinking about it.

he snorts. “i ain’t no virgin mary, that’s for sure.”

well, that’s too bad. you could’ve really gotten off on being his first.

“oh, okay. so you know what you’re doing then?”

he’s silent, an unreadable expression on his face.

as if to prove a point, you grind down on his bulge with one fluid motion. daryl’s jaw falls slack and a barely there whimper tumbles out, eyes widening up at you with submission, vulnerability. it makes your cunt throb, makes you want to give him everything and make him beg for it at the same time.

“feels good, hm?”

“cmon, stop… stop playin’ around.” he huffs— grits out more like. as if using his voice while he’s in such a compromising position is physically paining him. you watch his eyes drift to your chest, which is quickly rising and falling with your synchronized pants.

“oh, you can do better than that, dixon.” you chide lightly. “what happened to that smart mouth of yours?”

“i… can you…” daryl sucks in a deep breath, his gaze lowering to the spot your groins are connected. “just fuckin’ move.”

you lean back, giving him a better view of the expanse of your torso, the way the strap of your camisole has started to fall down your shoulder. daryl seems to bite the bait, tongue darting out to gather the pool of drool starting to gather around his lip. it rings a laugh out of you.

“with that attitude, i should just go back inside. leave you all alone to take care of yourself.” you threaten. his response is immediate, as his large hands that were once gripping the blankets below him come to hold your waist in place with a bearish grip. waiting, you raise an eyebrow at him.

he looks off to the side. “p…please.”

it’s faint, reluctant. still, the rush of power he’s giving you makes your head spin. he’s realistically much stronger than you, could quickly take control of the situation without breaking a sweat with that advantage alone. but he’s choosing to let you lead, to do as you say. you can’t say it’s something you expected, but you’re not gonna complain.

your lips stretch into a grin, patting his cheek like one would a puppy. “attaboy. that’s what i thought.”

you can feel daryl’s cock kick at the praise, and it encourages you to buck down into it. you both moan at the same time, hands tightening around each other as you continue to slowly drag your cunt along his cock. the heat emanating from your clothes is blossoms in below your navel and traps you in.

“you like that, don’t you? doing what you’re told?” your hips slowly gain speed, hands traveling to perch on daryl’s shoulders. his muscles flex underneath your fingertips from exertion.

he does nothing but lowly whine in response, attempting to duck his head again.

“say it.” you push. “say it or i’ll stop.”

“fuck. yeah. i don’t know.” he grunts, his hips canting to chase your warmth. “i like hearin’ you say it.”

“that you’re being so good for me? letting me get off on your lap?” you tease meanly, lifting forward to talk in his ear. “that your cock feels like heaven right now and it’s not even out of your pants?”

the groan that emits out of him is followed by a frustrated sigh. daryl’s hands shakily run under your shirt, up to your waist. you can tell he’s unsure of his movements.

“you can touch me.” you allow graciously.

building up to it, his hands travel slowly. you almost start to believe he’s purposely teasing, but the clumsiness of it all makes you think otherwise. its like a dam breaks when daryl finally reaches your breasts, the fabric of your top bundling up on your chest. he squeezes hesitantly, then his calloused thumbs circle around your areola as your hips draw circles in his lap. daryl watches your nipples harden in unadulterated fascination, his breathing heavy. either he does know what he’s doing or he’s aimlessly exploring and just so happened to make the right move.

he looks up at you for permission and your nod is all he needs to lean forward, catching one of your supple titties on his tongue. it sends your back arching, nearly knocking him back onto the ground.

“fuck, yeah. just like that, baby.” you feel his spiky hair underneath your fingertips as you tug on the roots for stability, which earns a distinct noise from the man below you. the pleasure curling at your spine from his tongue spurs your movements on, beginning to hump into him with all your effort. his bulge keeps knocking against your clit in a way that has you on the verge of seeing stars. “feels so good, daryl.”

“oh, shit. y’gonna… i’m about to…” his voice splits on the last part and it makes your heart clench, disbelieving as you lift his head up to meet his eyes. sure enough, they’re glistening with unshed tears in the dim light.

“already?” your smile and voice are dripping with sympathy. “it’s okay, let it out. i want to feel it.”

you’re bound to have bruises from how hard daryl squeezes you when he releases. it’s a sight to be seen; his face twisting up, strong muscles bulging as he struggles to stifle the cry that’s ripped out of him. his hips drive up into yours, and you swear you can feel it paint his pants, his cum mingling with the damp spot you’ve left.

“you’re so sensitive. god, that’s hot.”

he’s too high on his orgasm to come up with a retort to that. to his surprise, you continue chasing your own pleasure, paying no mind to the fact that he’s rapidly softening. your hearts racing, body tingling with warmth as you reach the brink.

“wait,” his voice is watery. “s’too much.”

“don’t be selfish, dar. i’m not finished with you yet.” you’re breathless at this point, just barely expending the last of your mental energy to respond to his whines. “you can take it a little longer, can’t you?”

his head falls back, and you’re not sure if the noises come from his mouth are from pain or pleasure or both. he nods anyways, watery eyes flicking down to watch your supple tits bounce.

you squeeze onto his biceps. “you’re being so good. gonna make me cum so hard.”

daryl’s whining and squirming underneath you, fingertips piercing your thighs exposed by your shorts.

“you’re so pretty.” he sniffles, whispers in a way that seems subconscious. “how … how can i help?”

ironically that question, of all things, is what sends to the edge. your orgasm is wrung out of you, rippling through your body like a wave as you spasm on his lap. daryl’s noises rival your own in volume, the overstimulation becoming painful.

you both pant together as the last of the aftershocks fade.

“are you okay?”

“my dick is sore.” daryl says at the same time. his voice is raw, vulnerable.

“i’m sorry.” you giggle breathily, going to stand up. his hands hesitate in letting you go, but eventually he drops them to his sides again.

he scratches the back of his neck as you straighten all of your clothes out.

“where’d you learn to… talk like that?”

a smile makes its way back onto your face as you shrug. “you kinda just brought it out of me. seems like you liked it.” you pointedly glance at the large stain on the front of his pants.

“shit. gonna have to burn these in the walker pit. don’t want carol clutchin’ her pearls at me on laundry day.”

“nuh uh. save ‘em for next time.” you joke.

he squints at you again in true daryl fashion. his face is red and his hair is sticking to his forehead with sweat. the sight is almost enough to make you want round two right there and then. maybe with a little less clothes.

“ain’t gon’ be a next time.”

you snort, bending down to grab your forgotten flashlight. “right.”

he watches you unzip the tent, eyebrows pulled together pathetically. there’s definitely going to be a next time.

LOOKING AT HER| S.VETTEL

Author’s note; fuck off Amy.

Pairing; Sebastian Vettel x shy!girlfriend!reader

Summary; Reader has grown to love the feeling of Sebastian’s eyes on her but not everyone understands.

Warnings; fluff, suggestive towards the end, Amy’s a bitch.

F1 Master List

Sebastian always had a habit of looking at her, he just couldn't help himself, he found her so beautiful that it was impossible not to admire her. He didn't understand how he was so lucky to have someone so special as his girlfriend.

It had taken a while for Y/N to get used to his gaze, at first it had made her self conscious, she thought there was something about her appearance or her outfit which had caught his attention but every time she asked he always responded the same way.

"I’m just admiring how beautiful my girl is"

She eventually found herself being used to having his eyes on her, in fact she had grown to like it. It made her feel safe and secure knowing he was there and keeping an eye on her. It was like a comfort blanket to her now.

She did feel nervous under his gaze though, the good kind of nervous. Sebastian was always one for eye contact and his gaze was... intense. It was constantly making her flustered, she'd end up forgetting everything, her words, what she was meant to be doing, everything vanished for her when he was around, all she could think about was him.

Sebastian and Y/N were currently out for dinner with some of Y/N's friends, although the pair of them had been official for over 2 years now Seb hadn't really had the chance to meet her friends properly due to him travelling all the time and when he wasn't they were too caught up in making up for lost time to make plans.

Her friends had been shocked when Y/N who was known to be extremely shy and famous for keeping to herself announced that she had a boyfriend, they had already been dating for nearly a year when she had finally told them.

Imagine their surprise when their incredibly private friend revealed just who her boyfriend was; an extremely famous, successful and rich formula one racing driver.

Y/N was currently in the middle of a conversation with her 'best-friend' Amy when she felt her boyfriends beautiful eyes tracing over her body.

Sebastian thought she looked so beautiful, she has dressed up tonight into a long dress and heels. Obviously she looked beautiful all the time but that dress was really doing something.

It didn't take long for Y/N to get flustered, her cheeks had turned a blush pink and she looked down at the table as she tried to remember her words.

Sebastian smiled, he loved the effect he had on her, knowing that he could get her all riled up just from a simple glance was a huge ego booster.

"Why do you keep looking at her like that? Can't you see it's making her uncomfortable" The table went silent as everyone turned to look at Amy who had purposely made sure everyone heard her.

Sebastian was speechless when he saw that she was staring him down. Making her uncomfortable? He looked at Y/N who was in just as much disbelief as he was, staring at her friend, wide-eyed because she hadn't been uncomfortable at all and she really didn't appreciate her rude tone towards the man she loved.

"Excuse me?" Sebastian almost laughed at the ridiculousness of her accusation.

"You've been staring her down for the past 10 minutes and it's creepy, can you not see how awkward she feels? She's literally shifting around in her seat"

"Amy-" Y/N tried to protest, she usually wasn't one to speak up, preferring to keep out of drama but the way the girl in front of her was looking at Sebastian like he was a piece of shit wasn't sitting right with her at all, especially because he was quite literally the sweetest human she had ever met.

The table watched in tense silence as Amy continued to run her loud mouth which was making everyone feel uncomfortable.

"...Just because you're some rich bloke that drives around in fancy cars doesn't mean you have the right to stare at a woman like she's a piece of meat" Seb couldn't believe the audacity of the woman, she knew absolutely nothing about him.

It seemed Y/N was thinking the same thing because she slammed her hand down on the table "Shut up! You know absolutely nothing about Seb or me, clearly, so stop acting like you have the right to comment on him, his job or his actions"

She then turned to her boyfriend who's eyes were filled with pride "Can we go? I don't want to stay here with someone who had no respect for others"

Sebastian nodded, immediately standing from his seat,  placing a couple bank notes down on the table to pay for their meal before grabbing his jacket and holding out his hand for her to take.

He ignored Amy's muttering of "Oh so you need to ask his permission to do what you want as well"

He said a polite goodbye to the rest of the table before the pair of them walked out of the restaurant.

Sebastian briefly glanced away from the the road and over to the passenger seat for the fifth time since they had gotten into the car, Y/N hadn't said anything since leaving the restaurant and it was starting to worry him.

She had sort of curled herself up into a ball, her knees pulled up to her chest with her feet resting on the edge of the seat as she stared blankly out of the window.

Sebastian wanted to tell her to sit up straight for her own safety but his worry for what she was thinking was a bigger priority to him at the moment.

"Liebling?" She only hummed in response which increased the worry he initially felt, she always responded properly to show he had her full attention, believing it was rude otherwise.

He hadn't been too bothered about Amy's words in the restaurant but with how quiet his girlfriend was being, he was starting to think that maybe Y/N agreed with her and maybe he did make her feel uncomfortable.

"Are you okay, schatz?" He asked. Y/N heaved out a heavy sigh as she sat up properly before turning to face him.

"I just hate how rude she was to you, she had no reason to speak to you like that and to do it in front of everyone in a public was just wrong, I'm sorry"

"Why are you apologising to me? You didn't do anything wrong, you handled it brilliantly" Sebastian reached over to grab her hand and link their fingers together, his thumb stroking along her hand hoping to provide some comfort.

"I know you went through the trouble to make sure you were free so we could go to dinner with them and now it's just wasted"

Sebastian shook his head "I didn't make sure I was free for the dinner, Y/N. I made sure I was free for you, you're more important to me than any interview or meeting"

Y/N smiled at his words, tightening her hold on his hand, he really was the perfect man.

"Can I ask you a question though?" He asked, seeing Y/N nodding her head out of the corner of his eye "Was she right?"

"What!?" Y/N couldn't believe the absurdity of his question "Not at all"

Sebastian bit his lip, not quite sure if she was just saying that so she wouldn't hurt his feeling "Are you sure? I'd hate to make you feel uncomfortable"

She couldn't help but giggle, nothing he did could ever make her uncomfortable, he was perfect. "You have never made me feel uncomfortable, Seb. I like feeling your eyes on me" she admitted.

Sebastian looked at her with a small smirk "yeah?"

Y/N nodded "Makes me feel sexy" she sheepishly said, turning back to the window to try and hide the blush on her cheeks.

"Oh, really?" She heard to teasing tone in his voice and internally rolled her eyes knowing he wouldn't let her live this down.

His ego had just grown about three times the size from her confession. It felt great knowing that he was able to make her feel so good without really doing anything. "Don't go all shy on me now, come on" he told her, tugging on her hand slightly.

"You're just going to hold it over my head now" she groaned but turned back to him as he wished.

"I promise I won't, I like that I make you feel good by something so simple" he said. The last part was true but he was totally going to hold it over her head.

"You always make me feel good" she whispered, tracing a finger over the veins on the back of his hand.

Sebastian heard her even though she spoke so quietly and felt like he could melt. What man didn't like hearing those words?

"How about I make you feel good when we get back home?" He asked, his tone suggesting anything but innocence.

Y/N's breath hitched knowing exactly what he was talking about. "Absolutely"

Sebastian smirked, turning his attention back to the road but he subtly pressed down on the accelerator.

He couldn't wait to get home.