Pairing: Jonathan Crane x femReader
Word Count: 4280
Summary: Over the past few weeks you keep on catching yourself thinking of Crane more than you should. You two get to know each other better, and he knows exactly what impact he has on you. At least you're safe with him behind those bars...right?
Warnings/Tags: angst, teasing, protective!Crane, minor mention of blood
A/N: I am truly sorry that it took so long🥲but the second part is finally here! It's not yet the end of the story but I hope I'll finish the next part quicker than this one XD. Have fun reading😊💜! ~✨Star
PART ONE
You’ve been working at the Asylum for three months by now and you’d be lying claiming that you didn’t like the attention he gave you. How couldn’t you now that you saw him every day and were allowed to have longer talks with him? You’ve been interested in him from the start but over time just like the trees outside your interest in him blossomed into something beautiful. He was intimidating but somehow it gave you a sense of safety to have the bars between the two of you at all times. His smart ocean eyes that bored right into your soul read you like an open book. His smooth, deep voice sent shivers down your spine and made your heart flutter. You’ve never met someone like him before and still, there was something drawing you in.
You had gotten used to your daily schedule by now; Get to the asylum in the morning, check in with your boss before talking to a few of the more harmless inmates. Then you had lunch and finally, it was time for your daily conversation with him. The only thing that changed was that with every day that passed, you walked down the hallway of his cell a little slower when it wasn’t quite time to see him yet. You lived for these few more seconds you could feel his eyes on you. For these few more words that fell between the two of you. Your interactions were the only thing motivating you to go to the asylum.
At night you lay awake, unable to shake off the feeling of his eyes grazing your body up and down. Whenever you fell asleep eventually, your dreams revolved around him. Somehow deep down you seemed to wish for him to step through that door and overcome the barrier between the two of you. But every night, right before he did, you woke up. And you hated yourself for it every single morning. Why the hell would you want him to get out of the cell they put him in for good reasons? Why were you so intimidated but longed for him to be free in your dreams? How did that make any sense? Were you slowly going insane in there?
On your way to the Asylum, you thought back to one of your many talks a few weeks ago…
Crane casually leaned back in his chair and folded his chained hands on his lap. His eyes studied you intensely as you sat down and adjusted your blouse. Looking up you noticed his gaze and raised an eyebrow at him, which made him smirk. “Good morning, beautiful.”
“Don’t call me that,” you said firmly.
“Why not?” he asked calmly. “Is it that wrong to state a fact?”
“It’s rude, we barely know each other,” you told him and grabbed your pen, scribbling down the date on your paper.
Crane sighed and rolled his eyes. “I miss the time when you could compliment a woman without being called rude or a creep.”
“Oh, so it’s a compliment?” you asked defensively. You wouldn’t fall for his charms even more. You were here on a professional basis and not to flirt with the inmates.
“It was intended as one, yes,” he said calmly and raised his eyebrows at you. “Is that a problem?”
You met his eyes and swallowed hard. “I’m here to do my job, okay? You are part of my assignment, that’s why I’m here.”
“Purely that?” he asked curiously.
“Purely that,” you nodded firmly and brushed back a strand of your hair.
“So you drew the card no one else wanted,” he nodded more to himself and you frowned at him confused. “I’ve been there…but I found it quite interesting here.”
“I bet,” you commented dryly. “It must’ve felt like home,” you added and bit your tongue hard once you realized what you just said. Shit, you weren’t here to tease him and make fun of him.
“Does my suffering amuse you, L/N?” he asked, not looking offended one bit.
“Did the suffering you put others through amuse you, Dr. Crane?” you asked back, deciding not to let him win that one.
“Amusement is the wrong word here…It delighted me, actually,” he told you and studied your face observantly. He watched your expression change to a mask of horror before anger and disgust laced your features. “There we have it.”
“You’re sick,” you spat out and stared at him. Well, what did you expect? That he didn’t decide to send people into insanity with his fear toxin? That in fact he was just a misunderstood soul who longed for nothing more than to be loved by someone and not harm others?
Crane shook his head and made a disappointed noise. “What’s one of the first rules you learned talking to a patient or client?”
“Excuse me?” you asked.
“Let me help you out,” he smiled, almost gently. “Never, and I repeat, never, judge the person sitting opposite you and insult them. Always stay neutral while talking to your client, no matter how crazy they really are.” His blue eyes lit up for a second as the word crazy mockingly rolled off his tongue.
“That’s rich coming from you,” you spoke firmly.
“You think so? Allow me to elaborate on that,” he said and started talking. You didn’t really listen, trying to calm down and sort your thoughts. You had a job to do, for fucks sake. Before you realized it your eyes were wandering over his body. You took in his confident posture, the way his full lips moved as he rambled on, his ocean-blue orbs displaying a theatre of emotions. You-. “Why aren’t you taking any notes?”
“I’m not here to write your memoirs,” you snorted softly. “I’m here to analyze you and I have a good memory, thank you.”
“Analyze me…Are we talking about my psyche here? Because the travels of your eyes tell me there’s a different sort of analysis going on,” he said almost mockingly and smirked succeedingly as the blush rose to your cheeks.
“Shut up,” you pressed out.
“So you can write down that I seemed awfully quiet today as if I had something stupid in mind? I don’t think so,” he smiled politely.
“Can we focus on the task at hand?” you asked frustrated and scribbled down his name on the questionnaire.
“I can,” he nodded.
…
Your casual conversations had gotten interrupted several times by now. About two weeks ago, a soldier from the military had been appointed to keep Crane behind bars, since rumors of a planned breakout sent panic throughout the city. The soldier had laid eyes on you and he had not given you a minute to breathe ever since. Not once. Suddenly, making your way down that hallway wasn’t fun at all anymore.
It was rather irritating, as you were trying to enjoy Crane trying to indulge you in some small talk, slowly easing you into longer conversations, when said soldier kept on flirting with you. Persistently so.
You really didn't want to hear how hot you looked in your work clothes. And you definitely didn't want to hear how he praised himself to heaven and back, annoying you with what a good boyfriend he would be. It made you uncomfortable and not even Crane’s mindfuckery reached that level of discomfort.
Speaking of Crane, he obviously noticed your discomfort. He had not spoken up - not even once - which made it worse. No, he rather seemed to enjoy your aggressive talks with the said soldier. He seemed to like seeing you try to get out of the conversation, and how you tried to be polite and stand your ground at the same time. You hated him for the joy it seemed to bring him.
Three days ago the soldier really stepped over the line, smacking your bum as you walked past him. You had been too stunned to speak, trying to swallow down your fear, and quickly made your way back home…
You couldn’t sleep and tried to fight down your sickness as you walked back to Crane’s cell the next day. You sent the soldier away, as always during your sessions with Crane, and sat down heavily. Quietly, you wrote down the date and his name, not looking up at him once. “How are you feeling today?” you asked then, staring at your first question. Crane remained quiet and after a long moment of silence you sighed and looked up. He studied you intensely, tilting his head a little as you finally looked up. “What? You didn’t hear me?” you asked more aggressively than you had intended.
“I’m doing fine, thank you,” he said calmly before squinting his eyes at you. “I suppose it’s a bad moment to ask you the same?” You remained quiet, only confirming his thoughts. “You can’t even keep eye contact, that’s dangerous in here. There won’t always be a guard around to protect you.”
“The guards are even worse than some inmates,” you spat out, still not looking up at him.
“I could’ve told you that on day one,” he smiled as you glanced up at him suspiciously. “Will you really let him mess up this opportunity for you?”
“Excuse me?” you asked quietly, a shiver running down your spine. “Who are you talking about?”
“I thought someone as stunningly beautiful as you are would be familiar with men acting up around you?” he gave back and raised his eyebrows at you. “But as it seems him touching you has been a first.”
You shifted in your seat and swallowed hard. “Why would I be alright if it happened more often?”
“I didn’t say it would be alright…but you’d be less shocked,” he shrugged. “Are you afraid of him?”
“Why would I tell you that?” you asked sharply. “So you can analyze someone’s fear? It’s the other way around here, I’m the one in charge.”
He smirked and rolled his eyes. “My dear, the patient is always in control…So, are you afraid?”
You stared at him before grabbing your things and getting up. “I won’t deal with this. We either do this my way or I’m leaving.”
“Would you accept something like that from me? Or him?” he asked smirking.
Tears shot to your eyes and you firmly grabbed your notes. “Fine, I’ll leave.”
His smile faltered a little seeing the tears and he didn’t respond anymore, watching you leave.
…
Going back home that day made you question your planned career. Yes, the asylum was an extreme, especially here in Gotham, but were you really ready to deal with people like Crane on a daily basis? Were you ready to walk such corridors more often and encounter all types of screwed-up people?
You weren’t looking forward to coming back to work today, knowing Crane would find it amusing that you took a few days off. The soldier would still be where he had been when you left and he wouldn’t stop. You subconsciously pull your sweater even further down, hoping it would hide the parts of your body he loved staring at. You wondered about Crane noticing your discomfort the last time but still questioning it. Did he really not care at all?
The moment you stepped into the asylum you knew he did care. The director met you at the door and filled you in about the events of last night. Apparently, Crane had gotten into a fight with one of the soldiers and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was that soldier. If it had been you somehow felt no compassion for the soldier which scared you a little. Why did that thought give you some sense of safety? Were you even more insane than Crane himself?
Your hopes of avoiding Crane for another day vanished into thin air the moment you heard there was an issue with the electric safety system of his door at the isolation cells. Of course, typically for your luck in life, the assigned electrician was at home because of a heavy flu. You had watched him a few times working at the doors and you had some past knowledge of circuits yourself. Apparently, you had mentioned that in your application because now you were being escorted to Crane’s temporary new cell to fix his door. You felt like the asylum’s personal monkey; just good enough to do whatever others didn’t want to.
And that's how you ended up in this awkward situation of sitting on the floor in front of Crane's cell, trying to fix the door and him continuously watching you. He had a small cut on his cheek; clearly the result of his fight.
You decided you had had enough of the silence. "Why did you start a fight with a guard? I thought you enjoyed your cell outside the isolation corridor."
Crane was surprised about you initiating the conversation first this time. Positively though. He smiled and shrugged. "He was...annoying."
You huffed and rolled your eyes. Of course. "So if someone annoys you, you just punch them in the face?"
"He said some disrespectful things. That's all. I thought it was only appropriate to teach him some manners." Dr. Crane's mood had worsened within seconds. You wondered what the guard said for Crane to react like this. Sure, he had a threatening aura, but normally he was rather calm. Stiff, almost. Seeing him lash out into a physical fight was something new.
"Appropriate. Somehow you using this word in combination with a beating actually makes sense. It's you after all." You made a vague gesture with the screwdriver to emphasize your words.
Crane's face lightened up and he chuckled. "Oh? You know me that well? I had no idea you studied me this throughout." You looked up at him in annoyance. This guy really had no shame, now did he?
Deciding, it had been enough small talk, for now, you resumed your work. At least you attempted to. You really did. You tried to concentrate on the circuit, you really did but it was incredibly hard when you could practically feel his eyes burning into your skin. Were you simply another pretty thing for him? Or was he actually interested in you?
You put down the screwdriver, a bit too aggressively than necessary, catching yourself fantasizing once more. "Turn around."
"Excuse me?"
You immediately regretted saying that. How weird must that seem to him right now? "I feel watched. I can't work like this." You groaned in frustration as one of the cables once again slipped from your grip. Him laughing at your request just made it worse. "Prick", you muttered under your breath.
Crane actually heard that and started laughing even more. Something inside of you snapped and you grabbed the screwdriver and threw it through the bars, right at him. You only realized the impact of your action, when he easily caught it and his smirk grew. "What a nice gift from you."
Your throat went dry. Shit. This could easily be used as a weapon. "Give it back.", you demanded in an attempted authoritative tone, though it came out shaky. Fuck.
Crane spun the screwdriver between his fingers and watched you thoughtfully. "Alright." You were surprised but also relieved that he agreed so easily. "Just hold out your hand."
Your heart dropped. Of course, it wouldn't be this easy. As if he had read your mind, he answered by rattling the chain of his hand. You were a bit confused. If you remembered correctly there weren't any cells with non-extendible chains. Maybe it was an extra addition because it was him. "Safety measures since my little...confrontation. I can't get to the door. So you'll have to stretch your hand inside. I'll do the same." Dr. Crane could practically hear the fight you were having with yourself in your head. "Unless...you want me to keep it?"
No. That could end horribly. You took a deep breath and stepped closer to the bars. "Fine." Shaking all over, you reached through the bars.
Crane calmly stretched the screwdriver in your direction. It was right over your hand. Come on. Just give it to me!
You should have never trusted him. The chains had been extendible from out the wall after all. He had lied to you. He dropped the screwdriver and launched forward, grabbing your wrist, and pulling you in his direction. The pull caused your body to collide with the cell bars, at the same moment, the screwdriver dropped to the floor. Fear spread through you like a wildfire and you felt your heart starting to race.
Your breathing was speeding up as you stared into his unreadable eyes. To test the waters, you gave your hand a little pull but Crane didn't loosen his grip one bit. "Dr. Crane. Let me go,” you spoke as calmly as possible.
His gaze was calm but that made you feel all the more threatened. Where were the guards? How could it be that you two always ended up being alone? Maybe this was your karma. You had wished for some time alone with him - without the stupid, flirtatious guard around - after all.
Crane stood up and walked forwards until he was right before you. The metal of the bars dug into your rips. He was so close that his breath mingled with yours. Crane lifted his hand - you tightly closed your eyes. You expected a punch. A jab. Him forcing you to open the door. Anything. Anything but this.
He very gently wrapped a strand of your hair around his fingers. The air got stuck in your throat. Crane smiled at you with something in his eyes you couldn't quite explain. "I always wondered if it was as soft as it looked."
Something about his smile and his casual demeanor made you really...angry. Maybe because you had just been afraid of him killing you and he does something like this. You gritted your teeth, putting as much rage into your gaze as possible. "Let me go!"
Crane blinked, seemingly knowing exactly what was going on. Another trait that was so infuriating about him. He tilted his head to the side, deep in thought, and hummed. "Why would I hurt you? I told you I'd give you a reason for you to feel safe around me."
"Then how about you don't just grab me and slam me against the door after you told me you'd only give me the screwdriver? Or how about you don't lie? That would make you seem more believable." You practically spat out the last word, staring over at the extendable chain.
Crane followed your eyes and chuckled. "Fine. You caught me. But...the opportunity was just too tempting. If I would have asked you directly, you wouldn't have let me do it, right?"
"So you just force me into a situation where I can't run? Charming."
Dr. Crane's calm smile faltered when he realized how angry you were. He sighed, thinking about how to calm you down.
You decided to give him the answer by pulling at your hand again and glaring up at him. Crane huffed and rolled his eyes. It was the first time he was displeased in front of you. It made your blood run cold and you started shaking. Have you taken it too far? Would he hurt you now after all?
As always, the former psychiatrist noticed the change in your attitude and decided to gift you a calm smile. Which - in all honesty - just made him seem creepier.
Crane tilted your chin up with one finger, scanning your expression. "You are only angry… not scared at all. That's surprising. Or maybe you're just good at hiding it?"
You decided to use his own words against him. "Why would I be scared? After all...you won't hurt me." You said it with all the confidence you could muster but your voice shook a bit nevertheless. Crane smirked at that and nodded.
"You're right. I did say that." Your confidence faltered and you turned pale once more. What did that mean? That he was lying? You tensed when he got even closer, pulling you against the bars even more by grabbing your chin.
His eyes kept on flickering back and forth between the electric strike and you as if he was unsure whether it was worth forcing you to open the door after all. Unbeknownst to him you were contemplating too. In the end, you decided for it. Not the same thing he had thought about though. Instead of opening the door, you lowered your head quickly and straight up bit into the hand that had been grabbing your chin mere seconds ago.
The sheer surprise caused him to let go of your wrist. Without waiting for a moment more, you pushed yourself off of the bars, bringing several meters between you again. You only stopped when you collided with the bars of the opposite cell.
The look that Jonathan Crane was giving you was terrifying. In the next second, Crane's eyes flickered for a moment and then his threatening smirk dropped. "Y/N. You...should really step away from there."
"If you think I'd come even an inch closer to you, you are so wrong!" you hissed at him, unaware of the danger you were in.
Did he seem even more serious than usual and oddly...worried? No. That couldn't be. What would he be worried about? But he lifted both of his hands calmingly, the thumb of the hand you had bitten a bit bloody. You felt a bit of pride well up inside your chest. There. At least there were some consequences for his actions. He deserved it. It could barely be called a wound anyways.
"Y/N." Crane swallowed and let out a light chuckle but it seemed stressed. "You don't need to walk over to me. Just...step aside at least."
"I'm not doing what you're telling me to do! I've had quite enough of your stupid games! So stop it with your smooth words and your stup-." The words got caught in your throat, by a strong arm wrapping around your throat and slamming you back against the bars.
Oh. Of course. You had been so infuriated by Crane that you had forgotten about the fact that you should stay away from the other cells as well. This was the more isolated and safer corridor for a reason.
Your nail dug into the flesh of the arm, trashing and gagging. This wasn't good. How the hell was the person behind you so strong? To believe you had even the smallest chance was a joke in itself. Your shoe didn't fit through the bars so kicking the inmate wasn't an option either. All you could do was claw at his arm. He didn't budge. Calling out for help turned out to be impossible. You'd need air for that.
While you kept on searching for options and solutions, your sight got blurred and your throat dry as it tightened. Someone kept on calling your name frantically. Who was that? It was hard to focus on anything, with your lungs clenching painfully like this. They were aching for air, your whole being begging you to just breathe but you couldn't.
Your thought process slowed down. Of course. You could just-. But no. What that would mean for Gotham...how could you ever be so selfish?
The consequences would be enormous. You pressed your eyes closed, croaking out a weak sound. This could've been your last one. The thought itself was so scary that you changed your mind within seconds. Nevermind. You didn't want to die. You'd rather get locked away for this than die.
You took your last remaining strength and kicked in the direction of the opposite cell. If it was destiny or sheer luck, you didn't know, but the sole of your shoe collided with the electric strike.
The corridor had been overshadowed by your tears and black dots dancing in front of your eyes. In the background, you could hear the loud, aggressive tone of a door opening. A door? Which door again?
You got your answer surprisingly fast when someone screamed in your ear like his whole life had just been turned into a living hell and the arm that had been choking you, let go. Staggering forward, you braced yourself for the impact with the floor. Instead, you fell face-first into the chest of someone else, and strong warm wrapped around you.
You frowned. Who was screaming around like this? It only increased your headache. And what was that shrill sound? Was that the alarm?
Your head was spinning, barely able to comprehend what had happened. At least until you looked over your shoulder. Now, you were able to see the inmate that had attacked you as you slowly regained your senses. He was lying on the floor, nails dug into his head, screaming and crying with wide eyes. You scooted back - or tried to - remembering that someone had caught you. Remembering your kick and the sound of a door, caused goosebumps to spread over your arms. Your heart was pounding like crazy when you slowly lifted your head. Please not him. Please not him. Please not-.
You slowly turned your head and instantly met a wild blue ocean. It was him. For the first time since you knew him there was fear in his eyes that frantically searched your body. He grabbed your hand and pulled you up, starting to run whilst pulling you after him. There were no bars left between you two anymore.
PART ONE
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Pairing: Max Verstappen x teacher!reader Summary: When your student gets injured and you can’t get hold of her parents you try call an old contact number hoping he can help. Warnings: slight angst, fluff WC: 3.4K
Max frowned at the unfamiliar number calling him. If it wasn’t for the fact it was a local number he would have ignored it but since few people had his personal number he decided to answer it. Immediately he was hit with the sound of high pitch cries and a soothing voice softly singing a lullaby that eased the knot of anxiety that had formed in an instant.
“Hello, is this Max?” you asked when you realised the dual tone had stopped and the call had been answered. You shifted the child carefully on your lap and grabbed the old enrolment form to see the name again. “Max Verstappen?”
“Maxy?” the girl in your arms echoed with confusion.
“Yes, who is this?”
“Miss Y/L/N, I’m one of Penelope’s teachers. There’s been an incident and I found your number under her emergency contact list.”
“Oh no, sorry, there must be a mistake. You should call her mother or father. I’m not, we’re not, um, I shouldn’t be on that list anymore.”
You cringed as another piercing cry deafened your ear and you rubbed the little girl's back. “It hurts,” she whimpered.
“I know, sweetheart, someone will be here to get you shortly,” you replied softly and you hoped it was the truth. “Look, Max, I’ve tried every other contact number and no one is answering. Is there any way you could come down here? At least until I can get in touch with someone else.”
Max pinched the bridge of his nose but when he heard P’s shuddering cry he knew he had to go. “Okay, I’ll be there shortly.”
Max didn’t care if he got a parking ticket, he took the loading space right outside the preschool building. He likely would have gotten a speeding ticket too in his rush to cross the city but thankfully there weren’t any police in his path.
“Maxy!”
Penelope wriggled in your arms as she spotted the stranger walking into the classroom. His eyes immediately found her and he crossed the space to where you sat holding her.
“Hey, P,” he greeted with a smile and knelt down at your height. “What’s happened, bug?”
Her little eyes welled up again as she lifted her bandaged wrist. “I fell off the playground.”
“I don’t think anything is broken but I would suggest having her doctor check to be sure.”
“I don’t know who her doctor is. I don’t even know what I’m doing here.”
“You’re contact details were-”
“Those must have been from when she started. Her mother and I haven’t been together for a while.”
“Oh, I see. I’m sorry to put this on you. I swear I tried every other phone number we have.”
Max nodded and his sigh sounded exhausted as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I just need to make a call. I’ll be back in a minute, bug.”
Max walked along the room, looking over the children’s artwork as he pressed his phone to his ear and waited. Eventually the call went to voicemail and his spine straightened tensely. “Kel, I’ve picked up P from daycare and I’m taking her to the hospital. Call me when you get this.”
You could see the man was stressed when he returned and his short hair pointed in all directions from the hand he kept nervously running through it. It was cute.
“Daniil is in Italy this week for work,” Max said as he returned to your side and picked up Penelope’s Prada backpack before opening his arms. “I’ll keep trying to get a hold of Kelly. Come on, bug.”
Lunchtime was coming to an end and children were starting to file back into the room, a few of the older ones stopping at staring wide eyed at Max. He was tall but not that tall or formidable to draw such a reaction but your question was answered when one of the boys ran to his picture on the wall. Timothée unpinned the drawing of a race car and ran up to Max, holding it out with a pencil.
“Sir, can you please sign this?”
Max looked used to the attention and took the pen with a polite, “Sure.” He stared at the picture for the moment after signing it and chuckled. “Is the RB20?”
Timothée nodded eagerly. “It’s my favourite.”
“Mine too,” he said as handed the picture back and smiled as it was crushed happily to the boy's chest. Max then carefully picked up Penelope, slowly so she wasn’t jostled, and his arms brushed yours.
“If you need anything you have my number,” you reminded as the weight was lifted from your lap. “Children can be a little overwhelming if you’re not used to it.”
Max smiled fondly at Penelope and shook his head. “This isn’t new. I still have her room set up.”
“You do?” Penelope asked hopefully and Max turned his head as he cursed to himself. “Are we going to live with you again?”
“No, no, sorry, P,” he said softly. “I just haven’t had time to redecorate.”
“Oh.” You both winced at the defeated tone and you knew the fresh tears had nothing to do with her arm this time but you were saved by the bell as it spurred Max to toss the bag over his shoulder and look to the door.
“I hope you feel better soon, Penelope.”
“Thank you, Miss Y/L/N.”
“Thank you,” Max echoed with a nod before departing.
All afternoon you were distracted with thoughts of the two of them until the final bell rang and you grabbed your phone. You had sporadically tried to contact Daniil and Kelly again but the calls went straight to voicemail every time and you found no returned calls.
Y/N: How is Penelope? Max: She is happy watching The Little Mermaid. She has a sprained wrist and the nurse complemented the bandaging so you should be proud. Y/N: And how are you? Max: I’m fine.
Max swore as the pot of water boiled over and he hissed as he grabbed the handle to find it was just as hot. He dropped his phone reaching for the teatowel and then P started calling out from the living room complaining that the movie was boring - the same movie she watched a thousand times and she had specifically asked for.
Y/N: My mentor used to tell me that stood for: freaked out, insecure, neurotic and emotional. Are you sure you are fine?
After turning the stove down to a simmer and wiping up the mess of water that had splashed across his floor he went and changed the movie to what would hopefully last longer than ten minutes before she changed her mind. Taking another attempt at making dinner, he grabbed a bag of pasta from his pantry and poured its entirety into the pot.
Max: I’m thinking I am definitely neurotic and possibly starting to freak out. Y/N: I couldn’t have that on my conscience. My offer still stands if you need some help. Max: You don’t have anyone you need to get home to? Y/N: My cat prefers his own company unless he’s hungry and he’s already been fed today so no. Max: I don’t want you to go out of your way. Y/N: I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t willing to follow through. Let me help. Please?
Max smiled at his phone before sending his address and looking around to see how tidy the place was. His jacket was tossed on the table instead of being hung up and Penelope’s bag was spilled across the entryway floor, not the first impression he wanted to make.
You entered the port address into your phone and locked the classroom behind you, feeling a little unsteady at the thought of seeing Max again. Penelope was a sweet child and she seemed comfortable with Max but you hadn’t really ever heard her talk about him before. You told yourself the only reason you were going there was to check on your student's wellbeing, but a small part of you wanted to see Max again.
You wondered if maybe he hadn’t heard your knock on the door or that you had the wrong apartment and you rapped your knuckles on it again before he called out. There was a crash and then a groan close to the door before it swung open and Max balanced on one leg.
“Uh, is everything okay?” you asked as he clutched his foot.
“Yeah, everything’s fine,” he rushed before he caught the teasing curl of your brow and he froze before a smile grew on his lips. “Right, freaked out, insecure, neurotic and emotional.”
“You’re a quick learner.” You stepped inside at his invitation and he closed the door behind you while you rushed towards the burning smell in the kitchen. “Oh, wow.”
“Fucksake,” Max grumbled as he grabbed a wet tea towel before reaching for the tray of garlic bread in the oven. “Ouch, shit!”
“You said a naughty word,” Penelope called out from the next room like it was something that she regularly commented on. “That's another 20.”
Max sighed heavily as he looked at a jar on the bench that was already filled with cash. “Shit.”
“I heard that.”
“Shouldn’t you be watching your movie?”
You giggled at the amusing conversation before turning the tap to cold and taking Max’s hand. “Wet towels and hot trays make steam.”
He watched you guide his hand under the water and flinched as it hit the burn mark on his palm. “I don’t usually cook, if you couldn’t tell.”
“The life of a bachelor. Keep your hand there.” You moved with ease around his kitchen trying to save what was left of dinner but paused at a huge pot of pasta that had swelled up and pushed the lid half off. “Are you expecting a dozen other people?”
Max shrugged innocently. “I didn’t know how much to put in.”
“Well the good news is the top half is edible,” you stated after finding a colander and draining the pasta until only a thick layer remained stuck to the bottom of the pot. “Do you have any sauce?”
“Sauce?”
“What were you going to have with it?”
“Garlic bread.” You both looked at the charred sticks still smoking on the baking tray.
“Do you mind?” you asked as you pointed to his fridge and the cupboards around the kitchen.
“No, please. Go ahead.”
You checked the fridge first and you were pleasantly surprised to find it well stocked with fresh fruit and vegetables. “Do you live off salads or does all this go to waste?”
“Neither, my nutritionist comes by twice a week and he prepares the meals.”
For a moment you had forgotten his profession. You had googled his name after Timothée couldn’t stop talking about meeting the ‘Max Verstappen’. “That must be intense, and restricting. Does your social life suffer?”
“It’s not so bad. I still get to go out for dinner and have a few drinks when I want.” He started to pull his hand out from under the water but you tutted and caught his wrist, holding it back beneath the cold stream.
“Keep still,” you warned with a voice you saved for children who weren’t listening. “It needs 20 minutes under there.”
“You want me to stand here for twenty minutes?”
“No, science wants you to stay there for twenty minutes.”
“Are you a teacher or a nurse?” he asked with a playful roll of his eyes.
“Depends if it's halloween.”
His loud laugh made you smile and you eased your grip on his hand one finger at a time to see if he would stay where he was. He did. “I’ll behave, Miss Y/L/N.”
“You can call me Y//N.”
“I kind of like calling you Miss Y/L/N.”
You checked to see if he was serious but thankfully there was a teasing smile on his face before you returned to the fridge to gather some ingredients.
By some small miracle dinner can’t have been too bad since everyone cleaned their plates of the pasta, though you thought they were likely being polite since you could still taste the hint of smoke from the bottom of the pan. Penelope had spent most of the meal asking Max if he remembered what they used to do when she lived there, how they used to go travelling and shopping. You got to see first hand how much patience the man had as he answered each question despite how it made him uncomfortable.
“You miss her,” you commented after she had gone back to the tv. Max started to collect the dishes with you and sighed as he placed them in the sink.
“It was a big change when they moved out,” he spoke quietly and you stepped closer so you could hear better. “She kept asking if she did something wrong.”
“That must have been hard for you.” His eyes widened and you wondered what shocked him, but you had a feeling it was the fact someone showed concern for him. Even though you didn’t know the details of the break up, it was clear he had and still did care for Penelope and you felt sorry for him. “Can I hug you? I’m a hugger and I feel like you could really do with one.”
“You want to hug me?”
You tried to shrug it off casually. “If you want to. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Everyone needs a hug sometime.”
“I do,” he said quickly, very quickly, before he cleared his throat. “I mean, I-I wouldn’t mind a hug.”
You smiled at his tentativeness and stepped into his personal space, slipping your hands into the narrow openings between his limp arms and his body to curl around his waist. It took a moment for him to respond before his own arms embraced the comfort and curled around your back too.
“You smell really good, Max,” you complimented as you rested your head on his chest and caught the scent of his cologne.
“Thank you,” he chuckled, the amusement relaxing him even more until his entire body curved into yours. “I think you have playdough in your hair.”
You hummed in agreement. “Highly likely. You wouldn’t believe the places I find that stuff at the end of the day, glitter too.”
His bold laugh made you smile and you didn’t care it was at your own expense, you were just happy to know it was because of you. Unfortunately you didn’t have the chance to hear it again as his phone rang from the countertop and you saw Kelly’s name light up the screen.
“I should let you get that,” you said as you stepped back, instantly missing the warmth and his scent. “I’ll go keep Penelope company.”
Max waited for you to leave the kitchen before he accepted the call, his calm state evaporating in an instant. “What the hell, Kelly? Where have you been?”
“My phone was on flight mode, I was on a plane. Is P okay?”
“Her wrist is sprained but she’s alright now.” Max pinched the bridge of his nose and reminded himself to breathe. “Why would you leave her alone?”
“She wasn’t alone. Maria was meant to pick her up after school and I should have been home in time for dinner but my flight was delayed.”
“Who is Maria?”
“Her nanny.”
Max had to suppress the groan at the news. He knew Daniil hated the idea of a nanny and he had offered to have more custody so that P would be raised by her parents and not a stranger, but Kelly had vetoed that idea.
“Do you want to go out for dinner? I owe you.”
“No, we’ve already eaten.”
“Some other time then.”
Max made a non-committal sound, his eyes darting to the living room where he watched Penelope explain the movie to you. You were so attentive and patient, asking questions that had Penelope thinking deeper and using such a simple interaction as a learning opportunity. He could see why you suited being a teacher.
“Maybe,” he lied, “just let me know when you’re almost here and I’ll bring P out to you, I don’t want to confuse her any more.”
“Right, of course,” Kelly sighed. “I’ll see you soon, Max.”
Max made the most of the time he had left with P, abandoning the dishes so he could sit on the other side of her and watch the movie about a chef rat. She had cozied into his side with a yawn and nudged his arm until he eventually draped it over her shoulder. It was completely innocent but you couldn’t help noticing the heat of his hand touching your arm, the warmth spreading like wildfire.
The fire was doused when his phone vibrated and the moment to leave had come.
While he grabbed Penelope’s backpack, you grabbed your handbag and prepared your own goodbyes. It was silly to feel sad the evening had come to an end but you knew that you would likely never see Max again. You weren’t famous and he didn’t have children, your paths weren’t meant to cross.
“Have a good weekend, Penelope,” you said as you knelt down and gave her a hug. “I’ll see you bright and early on Monday.”
“Bye, Miss Y/L/N.”
You rose to your feet wondering where you stood with Max until he opened his arms. “Anytime you need a hug, you have my number,” you offered as you stepped into his embrace, no matter how unlikely that prospect was.
“Or if I’m feeling fine?”
You giggled and nodded against his chest. “Especially if you’re feeling fine.”
The walk to the elevator was slow, as if no one wanted the strange evening to end, but there was no stopping time as it began making its way down from the penthouse to the ground floor. The doors opened and you instantly spotted Kelly in the reception area, her elegant and effortless beauty reminding you that you still had playdough in your hair.
With one last look at the man beside you, you gave him a small smile and stepped away. “Goodbye, Max.”
He didn’t respond as you headed to the valet area but he pulled his phone out of his pocket and yours vibrated a moment later.
Max: Are you okay?
Y/N: I’m fine.
Max: Me too. Emotional, you?
Y/N: Insecure.
Max: Want a hug?
You stopped and turned to see Max hand Penelope’s bag over before struggling to separate the girl from where she clung to his leg. She didn’t know, couldn’t see how it was hurting Max, but you could. So you waited, and when the mother and daughter had departed you stepped into the elevator with the subdued man, slipping your hand into his.
The elevator rose quickly and you watched Max’s throat bounce with the deep swallow he made before he choked out a broken, “Fuck.”
“I feel like I should remind you about the swear jar,” you teased as you bumped your shoulder gently against his arm. “But I’ll let you off this once because I have a soft spot for you.”
He looked down at you from the corner of his eye and you saw some of the sadness fading from them. “Does that make me the teacher's pet?”
You gasped dramatically and clutched your chest with your free hand. “I could never bestow such high praise after just one day.”
“What are your plans tomorrow then?” he asked with a smirk as the doors opened and he pulled his house key out of his pocket.
“I don’t have any.”
“Lovely, now are you going to answer my question?” He stepped inside the apartment and opened his arms. “Did you want a hug?”
Your smile chased away more of the shadows in his eyes and the last of it was erased when you stepped into his arms with an eager nod. “I will never say no to a hug.”
His chest bounced with a laugh and you felt him rest his cheek on your head with a contented sigh. “That is very good to know.”
Summary: Sam has noticed how much you look at Eric, and encourages you to go for what you want because no one knows how much time there is left.
Note: I hope you enjoy this story about my dear sweet wet boy 🥰
Warnings: movie canon violence
Words: 3.6k
What meds do you need?
With a shaky hand, Sam reaches out and takes her notebook and marker from Eric. She hastily scribbles down a few words, her eyes blinking every few seconds as if she’s fighting off sleep.
Her thin arm drops off the side of the bench, weakly offering the notebook back to Eric. You watch his doe eyes scan over the words before he tears the paper out of the book.
Eric nods as he folds up the sheet and slips it into his pocket. He gives you a terse smile that you don’t have the energy to return. Your eyes follow him as he steps through the rubble and debris towards the front door of the church.
The moment he’s out of sight, you push yourself off the dirty floor, grab Sam’s Bai, and take a seat next to her head on the bench. The struggle to lift her head is apparent so you quickly slide closer so her head can rest on your lap. She gives you a look of thanks before she sips from the bottle.
Once she finishes, Sam gestures to the notebook on the top of her “I heart NY” tote. Luckily, you can reach it without jostling her head too much.
The marker scratches against the paper as she writes. It takes her a minute longer than it did for her to write out the medication she needs, so you’re curious about what it says as she hands it to you over her head.
I see how you keep looking at him. You going to say anything or what?
Heat floods your face, and you swear everyone else in the church is able to read the note over your shoulder. Doing your best to shake it off, you write back a quick message before handing the notebook back to Sam.
Not allowed to speak at all.
She reads what you wrote and drops the notebook onto her chest, letting her eyes roll up so she can give you the most unamused glare you’ve ever seen.
As if Frodo is also unimpressed with your answer, he crawls out from beneath the bench, stretches his front legs out with his tail in the air, then heads towards the door.
Funny. Pretty sure your eyes have left him all of twice since we left the apartment.
It had been pure luck seeing Sam and Eric come into the apartment building last night. The distinctly human footsteps walked past the door of your apartment on the fourth floor and your curiosity got the better of you. You’d been held up in your home since the start of whatever kind of invasion this is and the need to see another live human being was too strong to deny. Though this was just last night it feels like another lifetime ago.
This is possibly the end of the world, and you want me to what? Tell Eric I think he’s cute?
You can’t help but see the twisted humor in the fact that you and Sam are sitting in a dilapidated old church, in the middle of what seems to be an alien invasion, and the two of you are writing notes back and forth to one another like high school girls gossiping.
I’m saying to go for what you want. We could be dead in a minute for all we know. Don’t waste your time.
It’s hard to argue that point with someone you know has limited time left. It’s even harder to argue because you know she’s right. But even though you’re in survival mode now, you’re still you and don’t find things like this easy. Call it insecurity or trauma from high school when the guy you had a massive crush on found out about it and laughed in your face. Things like that don’t just go away—even in the apocalypse.
We’re focusing on staying alive right now, Sam.
You’re deflecting.
It’s just the truth.
It’s still deflecting.
What do you want me to say, huh? I’m already scared for my life, I don’t need heartache on top of everything else right now.
Why do you think it would be heartache?
Because guys like him aren’t interested in girls like me.
Guys like him? Girls like you?
Yeah. Handsome, smart, kind. And me, not those things. I don’t need to feel like the rejected high school girl again right now.
Are you shitting me? This isn’t high school. Either tell Eric how you feel or agonize over what could have been.
Again, trying to survive right now.
So afterwards. On the boat out of here.
Maybe.
If I had the strength to wring your neck, I would. Cancer has fucked up my life but one thing it did do is show me how useless shame is. There’s no time for being embarrassed, it’s just a waste.
Why do you care so much?
What? You’re not getting my loving and nurturing vibe?
Ha. But really.
You’re both good people who deserve to be happy. If you can find that in each other then I think you should at least try.
Fine. On the boat. I’ll say something to him there.
Swear on Frodo.
That’s not fair.
Do it.
Fine, I swear on Frodo.
Sam seems content after that and closes her notebook and rests it on her abdomen.
It seems somewhat like emotional blackmail when the woman dying of cancer makes you swear on her sweet, adorable service cat.
The arguing (if you could call it that) has drained some of Sam’s energy and you see her eyes start to flutter closed. But a spark lights in her eyes, and she opens the notebook once more. At first you think she has something else to say to you about the whole crushing on Eric thing, but this sentence is for her.
My dad played beautiful piano.
A bittersweet smile rests on your lips.
Sam tries to put the notebook back down on her bag, but a wince tells you that the effort is hurting her. Gently, you take the notebook from her and set it down. She nods her head in thanks.
For the better part of an hour, Sam dozes on and off. It doesn’t seem like a particularly restful sleep she’s getting, but you hope it’s doing something to help her.
When Eric comes back, Frodo leading him in, he looks exhausted. Not that any of you were in top form these days, but Eric looks even more haggard than when he left. Still cute, though. Unfairly cute.
As he walks towards you and Sam on the bench, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a box no bigger than a Polaroid picture. With a slight wince, Eric kneels next to Sam and begins getting the patch out and free from its adhesive.
Sam tilts herself to the side and you help her turn enough that she can show Eric where to place it.
Once it’s firmly on her skin and Sam is comfortably on her back again, it only takes a few minutes before the relief is visible. Her body has relaxed, her breathing down to a steady pace, and she looks the most at peace you've ever seen her. It feels like your heart has been run through with a sword when you think about all this poor woman must have gone through.
“My dad played beautiful piano.”
Eric held Sam’s notebook in his hand, smiling at the few words. You just hope that’s the only page he stays on. He turns his head and meets Sam’s eyes.
“I loved it when he would bring me to watch him play,” Sam says, voice ragged and weak. “Then we’d get pizza at Patsy’s.”
That explains the odd insistence for pizza when the world is ending.
“What happened to him?” you ask softly.
There are a few moments where Sam doesn’t speak, and you begin to think she’s not going to answer you.
“He died,” she says. The pain in her watery eyes is palpable. You would want to wrap her up in a hug if she weren’t in so much pain. “Like I am now.”
The sad truth said out loud at last. You haven’t heard either of them say it up to this point.
“Not before we get pizza,” Eric tells her.
A small smile ticks up the corners of Sam’s mouth.
“Not before we get pizza,” she agrees.
The ship is leaving the port. It’s not too far out so it would be possible for you all to still secure passage on it. But then the dread in your stomach grows as you watch creature after creature step onto the sandy shore. They take great care to stay far enough away from the water, though.
You, Sam, Eric, and Frodo trudge through the wreckage of cars and building debris scattered along the road.
The four of you drop behind the carcass of an old van, all of you pressing your backs up against the tarnished metal.
A shuddering breath comes from next to you and your head whips towards Eric, who is between you and Sam. His eyes tear up and he grits his teeth, trying to ward off the anxiety that’s creeping up.
Sam immediately presses a hand to Eric’s chest and in the lowest whisper possible says, “Breathe.”
You take one of Eric’s hands in your own and give it an encouraging squeeze. Hoping he’ll follow your lead, you take a large breath in, then let it out. It helps a bit, but the anxiety is so strong. How could it not be in the situation you’re all prisoners to?
Your eyes move from Eric to Sam as you watch her nuzzle her face against Frodo and press kisses to his black and white fur. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think she’s saying goodbye to him. Then she hands Frodo to Eric, and it hits you. She was saying goodbye to Frodo. Instinct tells you to fight her on this, but how can you? One, you can’t speak. And two, who are you to tell her not to do this? If it were you, you’d rather go out trying to save the lives of your companions rather than let a vicious disease let you waste and wither away, slowly and painfully as the world ends around you. Sam is thinking that her life is almost up, and she’d rather buy yours and Eric’s lives with the short time she has left.
Sam pushes herself into a crouch as Eric clings to Frodo, holding him close to his chest. You let go of Eric’s hand so he can hold onto the cat better—Lord knows he’s already run away enough times.
“Run,” Sam whispers.
Before she takes off, you look her in the eye and nod your head once. Between that and the tears building in your eyes, you hope she sees your acknowledgment of what she’s doing and all the gratitude you can convey to her.
Sam nods in return, telling you she knows. Then, she’s gone. You see her crouch down behind cars as she makes her way through the lot. She picks up a crowbar and smashes it through a still-intact window of a car.
The smashing glass catches the attention of the creatures, and you know the time to move is now. Looking at one another, both you and Eric take a deep breath before getting up from behind the car.
Monsters rush past you, leaving you almost no room to dodge them as they race in the direction of the noise Sam is making. It seems like a miracle once the two of you see the dock ahead, no creatures between you and there.
Your sprint turns into a run, Eric keeping pace right beside you as he holds Frodo securely against him. A few steps onto the pier, Eric’s foot kicks a large metal can that skids a few feet away. It clangs as it tumbles, and the monsters hear it.
There’s no need for you to look back; you know they’re coming. All energy reserves go into your legs as you run faster. The rail around the dock is broken in one place, giving you and Eric the perfect opportunity to jump into the water.
But they’re getting closer.
You can hear the monsters gaining on you, and a quick glance shows one leaping in the air, aiming to land right on top of you, Eric, and Frodo. But you jump. The flash of yellow beside you brings immense relief as you hit the water—both of you jumped in time.
As you surface, you look back and see a gang of creatures waiting at the exact spot you and Eric leapt from. Two heads pop up next to you, one human and one cat, both safe. If this were any other circumstance, you would probably chuckle at how Frodo looks all wet.
Eric gazes back at the land with you and you both see Sam, standing between two dedicated cars.
Shouts come from the ship behind you, encouraging you to swim over to them. Without saying a word to each other though, both you and Eric take the time to look back at Sam. To watch her, this brave woman in every sense of the word. There could never be a way for either of you to thank her enough, but you hope she feels some semblance of it.
Wide brown eyes meet yours as you turn towards Eric. The two of you bob in the water for a few moments, looking at each other as you attempt to catch your breaths. Now it’s time to get to the boat. It’s time to get to safety.
Once the three of you have made it to the boat, you’re helped on board and assured that you’re safe now. Blankets are brought to wrap around you, Eric, and one for Frodo as well.
It seems impossible to attempt relaxation after the last few days’ events, but there’s nothing else to do as the ship sails slowly along. Where it’s headed, you don’t know. You don’t particularly care at the moment, either.
You, Eric, and Frodo make yourself comfortable in a small alcove on deck. It feels like you fall in a heap together, collective exhaustion kicking in. You weren’t even aware of how tired you were until this moment. The adrenaline finally starts to wear off and you lay your head down on Eric’s shoulder. You don’t intend to, but you quickly fall asleep against him.
When you wake, your head is still on Eric. Slowly, you sit up straight and smile when you see Frodo sleeping on Eric’s chest, all curled up in his blanket. Eric’s gaze catches yours and the moment you look into the beautiful brown eyes that make your knees weak, you remember what you promised Sam. On the boat. I’ll say something to him there.
After everything you’ve been through, you now understand clearer than ever what Sam meant about there being no time for embarrassment. No one knows if the next moment is their last, and do you really want to regret keeping your feelings inside? No. Plus, there was absolutely no way you could break your word to Sam after what she just did for you.
“Eric,” you start, unsure of how to phrase what you want to say. He looks at you, waiting for you to continue. Gathering your nerve, you do. “I want…I have to tell you something.”
“Sure. Anything.”
Another deep breath. Sam’s voice whispers in your head, you can do this.
“I don’t, um, know where we’re going. Or what’s going to happen next. I can’t even begin to think about that, really. B-But I do know that I would like to stay with you for as long as you’ll let me. I like being with you.”
A shy smile grows on Eric’s face, and he nods his head.
“I like being with you, too,” he says. “I’d love to stick with you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. But can I ask you…is it because you think I’m cute?” Eric is trying his hardest not to smirk, but the look of surprise on your face threatens to overtake him.
“I-I…”
“Or well,” Eric says, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a crumpled piece of paper and holds it between the two of you, “at least that’s what you told Sam.”
Your eyes dart down to the paper, and you recognize your and Sam’s handwriting. A gasp startles out of you as you realize it’s the note you and she passed back and forth in the church.
Eric is full on grinning when you look at his face again. His shoulders shake as he chuckles, and his laugh is infectious. You start giggling yourself and bring your hands up to cover your eyes.
“Oh my God, she ripped it out of the notebook and shoved it in her pocket? She thought I was gonna wimp out!”
Neither of you can stop laughing now. After being so scared and quiet for so long, it just feels so good.
Eric pulls out another piece of paper and hands it to you.
“She also wrote us this sweet note.”
The letter from Sam makes you smile, cry, and oddly, feel some form of peace. She’s home.
“Aw, Frodo,” you say as you fold the note back up. “You would be the handsomest boy even if you did get fat. But no, we’re not going to feed you too much.”
Eric chuckles and holds his arm open for you. You gladly accept the invite and curl up against his side. The scent of the salt water, wet cat, and the mustiness from the blankets do nothing to cover the scent that is pure Eric. You rest your forehead against his neck as he wraps his arm snugly around you and presses a kiss to the top of your head.
“You know,” he says softly as he lays his head against yours, “I came very close to getting you and I killed multiple times.”
“What?” You frown as you reach your hand out to stroke the top of Frodo’s head. “How?”
“Well, when I first saw you, when you stepped out of your apartment, I didn’t say anything. Not only because I couldn’t, but I was speechless. You’re so pretty and I froze. Sam had to push me three or four times to get me to walk again. And then there were so many times I’d just look at you and almost blurt out how beautiful you are. Because your beauty is something that’s impossible to keep quiet about. Then I got to know how kind you are. So compassionate, brave, selfless. Your beauty runs farther than skin deep and it made me even more of a bumbling idiot.”
You can’t help but giggle as you bury your head farther into the juncture where his neck and shoulder meet.
“But I do have a bone to pick with you,” Eric says.
Reluctantly, you pick your head up to look him in the eye.
“Why?” you ask, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.
He picks the note between you and Sam back up and begins to read a part aloud.
“Why do you think it would be heartache?
Because guys like him aren’t interested in girls like me.
Guys like him? Girls like you?
Yeah. Handsome, smart, kind. And me, not those things. I don’t need to feel like the rejected high school girl again right now.”
He lowers the note and shakes his head.
“Now, I don’t know what kind of absolute prats you went to high school with, but anyone who rejected you is, quite literally, insane. And I don’t like this talk about ‘girls like you.’ You make it seem like such a bad thing to be you. But you’re possibly one of the best people I’ve ever met. And I know that after only knowing you for about two days. And it didn’t take me more than four seconds to see how stunning you are. Frodo and I want you to see yourself the way we do. Right, boy?”
Both of you look down at the snoozing cat and you scratch between his ears with a chuckle.
“I’ll work on it,” you say earnestly.
Frodo tilts his head and you let your hand drop. You lift your head and Eric is so close. It would barely take any movement for his lips to be on yours. So, you make that move. The hand that was petting Frodo comes up to cup Eric’s jaw as you lean in and press your lips against his.
Eric’s body immediately sinks against yours, holding you tighter as he kisses you back with urgency. It’s as if he remembers the two of you have more time now and he can savor this moment as he slows the kiss down, enjoying exploring your mouth at a lazy speed. There’s no rush anymore. You’re safe and both here together.
When you part, he rests his forehead against yours and you’re pretty sure there are identical grins on both of your faces.
“I can’t wait to hear your laugh over and over again,” you tell him.
“I can’t wait to hear you say my name,” he replies.
“Eric.” It’s the first time you’ve been able to say it above the lowest of whispers. “Eric, Eric, Eric.”
His grin grows even larger, and he presses a quick kiss to your lips.
“God, I love the sound of that.”
no mourners, no funerals. [source]
summary: a heated make out turns into something more🤭
warnings: SMUT (16+)⚠️ heavy making out, dry humping
authors note: first time writing for peeta so please be kind:) this is one of my fav kind of smut prompts to read and there is absolutely no peeta smut anywhere😓😓i hope you guys enjoy:)
Something had come over you.
It was very rare that you felt so incredibly desperate for your boyfriend, but today that overwhelming feeling hit you like a freight train.
You didn’t know what had made you feel this way. It could have been the way his strong arms looked this morning when he was moving furniture for Haymitch, so perfectly toned and sculpted. Or it could have been the way he held you in his arms this morning and kissed you until your lips were flushed and swollen. Or maybe it was the way his towel hung so lowly around his hips when he stepped out of the shower this afternoon with water droplets still clinging to his abs.
That boy had been driving you crazy all day and you simply could not focus on anything. He consumed your every thought and all you wanted to do was touch him. You found your mind drifting toward the dirtiest thoughts and tried to squeeze you legs together to suppress the frustrated ache building between your legs.
But lucky for you, that same boy was now pinned underneath you in nothing but his boxers with his hands up your shirt groaning everytime you moved above him.
What had started as gentle and loving makeout session escalated to something far more needy and passionate.
Peeta looked so beautiful underneath you, his blonde hair still damp from his shower messily laid across his forehead, his tan chest flexing underneath your touch, his lips glistening with your saliva.
You were straddled on his lap, thighs on either side of his with your hands moving back and forth from his shoulders to his hair. He had one hand on your waist, pulling you closer to his chest and one hand under your shirt, toying with the waistband of your underwear.
Neither of you had come up for air. You were both so desperate for eachother and so obsessed with the other you couldn’t stop. Every kiss was so intense it felt like it could be your last.
After being lost in your own thoughts for a moment, you broke the kiss and shifted your focus to Peeta’s neck, which you knew would drive him absolutely insane. You began to gently suck and bite his neck and then swipe over the spot with your toungue.
Peeta was loving every moment of it.
His gasps and hums quickly turned into groans as his hands left your hips and went straight to gripping your ass.
“You’re so good baby” he groaned into your hair.
You wanted more, you wanted to make him a mess underneath you. You needed it. And you knew exactly how to do it.
While still sucking on his neck, you began to grind your hips onto Peeta. You knew exactly how to roll your hips into Peeta's; a way that would make his eyes roll back into his skull and make his jaw fall slack.
"Oh my god babe" he gasped into your ear.
His fingers tugged the messy hair at the nape of your neck and pulled your closer. You thought you couldn't be any more intertwined with Peeta.
You were wrong.
You felt the obvious bulge in his boxers growing underneath you which only made you grind onto him harder. You wanted nothing more than to hear his sweet moans and feel his fingers leave delicious bruises on your hips.
"Baby if you keep going, I'm gonna come." he breathed into your neck.
"Fine by me" you whispered with a cheeky grin pasted on your face.
You moved your leg farther up his body, your kneecap resting against his ribs. You kept grinding on him, the new angle impossibly more intense than before.
Peeta's groans turned throatier and deeper. His eyes were screwed shut as his beautiful sounds were lost in your neck and your collarbone. He wrapped his arm under your leg and pulled you even tighter on him and started to use his hands to grind you onto him even harder. He was getting desperate now.
"It's so good babe, I can-"
His praise was interrupted by a shaky moan. You could tell he was on the edge.
"Come on Peeta, let go babe." you whispered sinfully into his ear.
You started to bounce slightly on him and you could feel him everywhere. You pressed your lips under the base of his ear, making small breathy moans into his ear.
One last roll of your hips and Peeta was coming undone. His groans echoed the room and he came hard. His biceps caged around your and held you on his warm and glistening chest as he grinded his hips into you to ride out his high.
He was so beautiful when he was like this, and the fact that you were the only one who got to see him in this state turned you on more than you could even begin to describe.
After coming back from the heaven you had sent him to, you leaned down to kiss him softly.
"I can't believe you just made me come in my boxers." he laughed into your lips.
"I'm pretty good huh?"
"I think your a little better than good baby."
You smiled back into his mouth and began to roll off of him. But before you had the chance, he was pulling you back and under him.
"Not so fast babe. Gotta make you feel good too." he murmured into your lips.
Before you knew it, he was hovering over you with his knee between your legs and your heart was racing.
Part 2?
possessive miguel o’hara has me in a chokehold
Possessive!Miguel trusts you but not those you interact with because he knew what every one of them were thinking upon looking at you because he thought the exact same thing.
Possessive!Miguel who’d watch from his hubbub as you interact with the others in the spider society under the guise of doing something else. It completely fools everyone but not Lyla, who would often catching him stealing glances and noting how his jaw clenched when the person you were talking to decided to get a little too comfortable.
Possessive!Miguel who’d definitely leaves bite marks scattered about your body when he’s feeling particularly possessive and would hide away any article of clothing that would allow you to cover them up so that people would get the message that you were taken. But when he noticed that some had healed, he takes up the task of replacing them with more marks.
Possessive!Miguel who is your shadow, following you whilst keeping a distance, thinking he was merely watching over you, which he was but one too many times had he followed you on the pretences of looking out for your well-being, when it was just him making sure to keep you within his line of sight, sending him into an almost feral state when you seemingly disappeared before his eyes.
Possessive!Miguel who only got possessive when he’s faced with the possibility of eventually loosing you one day to someone who truly deserved your love. It’s fascinating for Miguel when he’s aware of the moment his protectiveness became possessiveness towards you; Yet despite how possessive he may get, Miguel never lets it go to darker places where he would be pushing and pushing you away into the arms of someone else.
Possessive!Miguel who’d holds onto you really tight, face pressed into your neck, whispering ‘you’re mine,’ ‘there’s nobody that you’d rather be with then me,’ ‘I need you,’ ‘you belong to me,’ ‘don’t leave me when I still need you in my life,’ ‘see the way you fit within my arms? It means that we were meant to be.’ And so on like a mantra that you didn’t know who it was made for, you or himself for reassurance.
Possessive!Miguel who’d may or may not keep you inside the house when he feels as though something bad was encroaching and his first instinct was to assure that you were safe, even if it meant keeping you locked inside until further notice but he makes sure you have everything that you require until the danger passes over.
A/n: I kinda ran out of stuff to put here and this might seem a little lacklustre but at least I tried and gave it an attempt. Plus half of this probs ain’t within the realm of possessiveness but eh.
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.”
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𝐏𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐀 𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐊: 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃
𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 — smut, semi-plot, afab!reader, blowjobs & riding, p in v, creampie, face-fucking, slight breeding kink, switch!peeta, overstimulation, squirting, fingering
peeta mellark is a loser.
you often wonder how your boyfriend always radiates charisma whenever he’s in public. infront of cameras, he’s charming, confident, keeps himself composed.
he’ll always keep things professional—even with you. the most you’ll get out of him during a social event is a chaste kiss or a soft peck on the cheek, denying you of anything more.
it amuses you, the way he puts up such an outgoing front—how he treats you like a coworker playing pretend lovers because he can’t keep his dick in his pants whenever you get too touchy.
just imagine the capitol’s reaction if they found out the ‘charming prince’ from district twelve was also just a whining bitch.
—
“what the hell was that?” peeta sighs as he drags you into the guest bedroom and locks the door behind you.
"i have no idea what you're on about." you whisper, a hint of mischief in your eyes.
“oh, so you just feeling up on me back there was nothing?” he scoffs.
“it was a light touch. it isn’t my fault you’re sensitive.” you hum, a grin tugging at your lips as you watch his breath hitch.
“the sponsers could’ve seen you.”
“but they didn’t.”
“they could’ve.”
“so what if they did? what’s so wrong with giving them a show? it’s what they want.” you refute, walking closer towards him.
“you—can't just wait till we get back, huh?” he sighs, gulping as you inch closer towards him.
“what did you expect, peeta? how can i keep my hands to myself when you just look so good tonight?” you mock, palming the evident bulge in his pants.
“we can’t—not now.” he sighs.
"we aren't even tonight's centre of attention. nobody will notice that we've left." you smile. your hands run up and down his tense thighs as you slowly place your knees on the carpet, gazing up at him with those doll-like eyes that you know drives him crazy.
“you don’t have to do this.” he whispers, his hand making his way down to your cheek as his fingers curled around your jaw—the pad of his thumb rubbing small, gentle circles across your skin.
“you know you won't make it through the night without my help.” you hum, unzipping his pants and pulling his member out. it’s already red and hard, precum leaking out the minute you palm it.
“aren’t you a little excited tonight?” you tease, placing soft kisses over its veins and along the sides.
“well you aren’t the only one that’s had to hold back all day.” he sighs, his hand finding a place around the top of your head.
he didn't do anything but watch as the end of your tongue slowly licked up the precum from his tip’s slit. he holds back a moan as you feel his grip tighten ever so slightly around your hair.
“fuck, you’re—ah—mmhph” he whimpered.
his words were shortly cut off the moment you take him into your mouth. never will he get used to just how warm you are when he's inside you. his cock pushes at the back of your throat as you swallow him whole, struggling to resist the urge to buck his hips into your wet mouth.
thankful for the lively crowd in the room next door, you listened to his quiet whimpers and moans. his eyebrows furrowed together in pleasure as he his puppy eyes stared down at you. more, is what his expression begged, and who were you to deny him of his need?
his hips slowly jerked and twitched as you bobbed your mouth up and down along his length, your moans vibrated onto him. it was cute, how he tried his best to keep his composure and not fuck your mouth dumb—but you wanted more. so, you gave him a reassuring look, pushing yourself as deep as you could go as he stared into your lustful eyes.
peeta had always been able to read you like a book, so it wasn't hard to understand your expression. if you were to so generously invite him to not hold back, who was he to refuse?
he experimentally rolls his hips into you, letting out a shuddering breath when he feels you swallow around him—his free hand laced into your hair. when you gag around him but still try to take him further, he thrusts deeper, his cock twitching. "fuck, you feel so—good—shit." he moans, quickening his pace.
"wait a minute—hah—don't want to—cum yet." you slowly pull back as he stops rolling his hips, trying to catch your breath.
as soon as you stood back up, he pulled you into a sloppy kiss, sliding his tongue slipping into your wet mouth as he tasted the flavour of your spit and his precum mixed with his own saliva. the two of you moaned and whined as your mouths pressed together. once the kiss had been going on for a while longer, he finally broke it and pulled you towards the bed.
"on the bed," he simply stated. you climbed onto the mattress and sat on your knees, waiting for his next instruction. instead of words, he drew you into his lap, your thighs on either side of his waist.
"lift yourself a little." he whispered, watching as you silently raised your hips. you sighed as your short dress was completely unzipped and thrown to the floor, your panties pushed down to your knees, completely exposing you to him.
“gotta make you feel good too.” he mumbles, his large hands rubbing up and down your inner thighs. you softly moan as he continues to tease you, rubbing right near your cunt but trailing his hand back down before actually touching you. you sigh in relief once his hand finally makes it's way up, softly rubbing against your clit and the folds of your cunt.
it’s embarrassing, how you’re already soaking wet and so welcoming to his fingers as they slowly enter you. you sigh as you feel his hand slowly fill you up, bottoming out. the moment his fingers started curling deep inside of you, your silent whimpers turned into growing moans.
“peeta—fuck, you’re so deep, oh my god—” you slurred, your thighs trembling as he picks up his pace. you begin to burst into loud moans the moment he begins thrusting them at an unspeakable pace. feeling so full, you cried out as his fingers plowed into you mercilessly. his hand snaked up to your mouth, muffling your sounds as he went faster.
“don’t be too loud unless you want everyone out there to hear us.” he whispers, replacing his hand with his mouth. you whimpered and cried, trying your best to keep all those pretty sounds inside as his fingers curled inside you, ramming your cunt at an unfathomable speed.
you could feel your climax as heat started to build up in your stomach. you were so, so close. and then, just as you were about to cum, there was nothing. he pulled out, denying you your release.
“don’t look at me like that, i’ll make sure to fill you up real good.” he whispers, taking off his top and removing his bottoms.
your bodies pressed against each other as you strattled yourself back onto him, the folds of your wet cunt rubbing against his leaking member.
“fuck, i’ll never get used to seeing this.” he hitched, placing his hands at your hips as the two of you grinded into each other.
“let me give you want you need, peeta.” you whisper, placing a soft kiss onto his cheek before pulling back. he only watches, his half-lidded puppy eyes following your every move as you palm his shaft, positioning yourself over him. you spread your legs and took your time pushing into him, burrying yourself deep inside, inch by inch.
“fuck—you're so wet.” he moans.
when you finally bottomed out, your hips took control and began painfully slowly riding him out while gradually increasing your pace. you wanted to watch his desperation escalate.
but it didn’t take long for his whimpers to turn into loud moans as he began whining your name. he started rolling his hips with yours, picking up the pace, and you weren't sure you could hold yourself up much longer.
his sloppy rolls turned into intense ramming as you continued to ride him. he thrusted into you, hitting that deep spot over and over again. you writhed in pleasure, letting out a loud moan. the unrelenting rhythm was everything, the feeling taking you to your peak.
“fuck, peeta! you’re too—mmph’—fast! fuck! oh my god—ah!” you cried, your legs shaking as you bobbed up and down his cock.
“you’re so tight, i need you so bad—i’m gonna—fuck—“ before he could finish his sentence, he pulled you down, suddenly flipping you over. your back was pressed against the mattress as he continued his thrusts.
“fuck—i think i need you for keeps.” he moaned, whimpering as he rammed into you.
“i’m gonna cum—peeta, wait—fuck!” you cried, suddenly feeling his hand press against your overstimulated clit, his fingers pressing down as he plowed into you. your hands pushed at his abs as you were on the verge of cumming.
“fuck, i need to—inside—ah—“ he slurred, his thrusts reaching the fastest he could possibly go. “let me cum inside you—give you my babies.”
“let’s give the capitol what they want—“ he moaned, applying more pressure onto your clit as he rammed into you.
“peeta! i'm—holy shit—fuck!" you could only scream as as you felt a giant gush of heat pool in your stomach. your entire body trembled as you began squirting on his dick—but peeta wouldn’t pull out, he only thrusted himself further into you as you continued your spasm.
“it feels so good!” you whined, feeling so full from his dick filling your cunt as you continued squirting.
"fuck." he moaned, feeling the juices of your cunt squelch inside and around him.
“don’t—don’t pull out—“ you cried, shaking as you gradually came down from your high, your juices slowly leaking out and soaking the mattress as his cock was still buried deep inside you.
your sighs were only interrupted by shrieks the moment peeta started thrusting into you again, overstimulating you after such a short rest.
“wait—ah—fuck! i can’t—it's too much!” you slurred, watching as your juices continued to squirt out every time he thrusted into you.
“i’m—i’m gonna cum—mmph—ah—come on, please, cum with me again, please—” he whined, rutting into you like an animal. as he felt you tighten onto him once again, he pulled you into a kiss, his tongue swirling around yours as his hand pushed your back up, your whole bodies fully pressed against each other as he fucked you stupid.
you whimpered against his mouth as the heat began to build up once more, but his lips muffling your moans as you squirted around him for the second time. his cock stuffed you, slowly grinding but never fully leaving your cunt as the squelches of your wetness slowly squirted out everytime he thrusted.
peeta only let out a long moan as he came inside you, followed by whines and whimpers as the two of you riding your highs together.
once the two of you finally relaxed, peeta pulled out. you watched as a gush of your liquid spilled out of you, his semen slowly seeping out and dripping down your cunt.
“i should provoke you more often.” you weakly sigh, brushing the hair out out of your face with your fingers. he only scoffs as he pulls you into a soft kiss that felt both pure and gentle.
you wondered how long the two of you were gone for from the event, but you had bigger things to worry about—like how in the world you’ll possibly be able to even walk back home.
a/n: i don’t use this blog regularly, just had to post this because there is an INSANE lack of peeta smut it’s disrespectful. there’s probably some typos since it’s not proofread hehehe
im very in love with book jamie at the moment…
this post includes: soap, ghost, gaz, price, graves, konig & alejandro
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soap 🧼- the one that takes his time
now, this ain't soap's first time using a fleshlight. he started with a tenga egg or something like that, just for the sake of trying something that wasn't his hand. and i just know that troughout the years he has created a decently sized collection with a lot of varietiy: fleshlights imitating pussies, asses, mouths,... even if a man like him could easily pull a pretty lass to fuck, with the job he has and what it requires of him, it isn't always ideal.
but there is one thing that soap does, no matter weather he's fucking one of his partners or a plastic replica: he takes his time. stroking himself tentatively before lubing his dick up and loweing the fleshlight onto his hard on until he's balls deep. and when i say he fucks it as if it were a real person i mean it. he's fucking int in diferent positions, jerking himself with it but also fucking into it, both slow and fast until cums all over himself
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ghost 👻- the stretcher
ghost sometimes has to ask himself if he's really that big and thick or if it's just that the one or two fleslights he owns are way too fucking small. he doesn't know, but he very much loves it. there is something about the size difference, the way the plastic stretches to fit him and how he can perfecly see it expanding as he pushes his dick deeper into it that makes him go feral.
now, other than his size kink goin brrr, he finds himself swiping his cock against the flesglight's pussy-like entrance, as if he were teasing a real cunt, before fucking himself slowly into it. he's mersmerized by the plastic doll completely swallowing up his aching hard dick until he's balls deep. he also intends to pull out - just to save himself some clean up - but he finds himself so overwhelmed by the feeling and visuals that he just fill the fleshlight up with his potent cum - more than once, at that -.
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gaz 🧢- mess making perpetrator
this may be my most repeated gaz headcanon but he's a mess maker and there is no deniying. when he get's home from a mission or something like that and he doesn't feel like trying to find a partner to fuck, he always has a trusty fleshlight. the thing is, he doesn't even make it to the bedroom most of the time, deciding to just fuck it in his livingroom.
he just plunged deeply into the plastic pussy, stretching the plastic over his limit because his dick is too long for the small fleshlight, almos breking it. the pent up hornyness and the feeling of something other than his hand wrapped around his dick sending him into an orgasm faster than he expected. he pulls out to first his impossibly hard cock when he feels himself about to cum. and he stains the sofa with it as the mess perpetrator that he is - and let me tell you, it ain't the first time he's had to clean his seed out of that sofa.
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price 🚬- the first timer
price is an older and more traditional man, he would rather fuck another person than some piece of plastic. but he keps hearing his men talk about fleshlights, how good they feel,.. and all that combined with the fact that he ain't getting younger, he's extra tired and trying to find a partner with a job like his is tedious, he decides to get himself a fleshlight just to try it out of curiotisty.
what he did not expect was that god forsaken piece of plastic would feel that fucking good. all it took was some slow deep strokes into it before he found himself cumming. and at that moment his lust filled brain took over and he started fucking himself into the fleshlight again, trying to extend the pleasure of the orgasm. let's say he now fully understands why his men praise them plastic holes.
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konig 🗡- the nasty fucker
lets be real, konig is fleshlight collector number 2. anxiety gets the best of him so he would rather to make do with some plastic pussy or ass than having to deal with the hassle of interacting with people. his not that experiended ass is fucking enamoured by the feeling of and ass or pussy, even if it isn't a real one.
now, konig allways finds himself doing two thing every time he uses one of his fleshlight. a. he moans. like a bitch in heat. he can't help it, it just feels overwhelingly good to have something wrapping tightly around his unexperienced cock. and the fact of finally getting some release. b. he makes messes - yup, mess making perpetrator no. 2 -. spit, precum, lube and cum mixing all together, covering his dick, hands and fleshlight as he fucks himself dumb and slaps his dick all over yhe plastic ass.
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graves 🪦 - the stressed
now, these military men always find themselves stressed out, it's a part of the job. but for graves, said job and the tension that it generates have kept him away for some time now from a real pussy or ass. so a fleshlight is a good alternative, giving him all that he needs to reach some much needed release.
the few occasions he has had enough time to indulge in some pleasure, he's going to make the most of it. alternating slow, sensual deep strokes and fast shallow ones. hands making sure that the fleshlight stays in place as he plunges into it chasing an orgasm and moanig at the sweet feeling of release. he for sure cums deep inside of the plastic masturbator, because it may be plastic, but he loves creampie-ing it the same way he would creampie a real person.
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alejandro 🤠 - the tip teaser
alejandro doesn't strike me as the type of person that would have a proper fleshlight, you know? instead of a piece of plastic that fully engulfs his dick he has one of those quickshot ones. a transparent one at that. it gives him a lot of options, from fully jerking his cock with it to just teasing his tip.
and oh does he love to tease his tip! using that comact masturbator to play with his angry red bulbous tip. pushing just the head in and out, sometimes tilting it to make his dick pop out of the fleshlihgwith a wet noise. and seeing his cock breach into the plastic, dick twitching at the feeling, his stomach spasming from the sensation... he always inevitably cums all over himself, staining his hard shaft, lower hairy stomach, thights and even the quilt.
࿓ synopsis • why not using his devil fruit ability while eating you out?
―❦ nsfw, opla!luffy, f!reader, pet names, swearing, licking, biting, kissing, fingering, oral > f receiving, inappropriate usage of abilities/power, strength using, hair pulling, praising, ‘is all! • 0.9k • & concluding the first week of kinktober 2023 with our cute captain luffy! the week was soo fun & hope you liked it too. so, once again, enjoy & see you soon in the next week! [kinktober m.]
“mmhh – y/n – shiiii – pussy’s so goo – mmhh,” luffy says, his full attention on your pussy that his tongue is inside – licking it, kissing it, and eating it as if it’s the most delicious meal he has ever had in his entire life, and you swear it really is because he’s eating you so passionately that you’re losing your mind thanks to it.
“delicious,” he adds as if he hears your mind – maybe he does through the way you’re moaning his name over and over again, tongue curling only to leave the beautiful voice you have to announce he’s making you go crazy.
leaving your wet clit, since you have cum already, for a moment, putting his head on your naked thigh, pulling the skirt higher, exposing you completely. you look into his eyes, chest raising up and down rapidly, making your visible breasts through the dress take luffy’s attention before saying as he looks up at your face with wide sparkling eyes, “the most delicious pussy – ohh – how I want to reach until my tongue’s tip reach at the end of it!” he chuckles, fingers playing with folds, then, picking the wetness of your cum with his long fingers only to put it into his opening mouth – showing off you how he licks his fingers from tip to end, “mmmhhh –“ closing eyes for a certain time.
opening his eyes again, he chuckles at the sight in front of him – his pretty girl becomes breathless, nipples get hardened, the lip is bit, heat rushing to the face; the meaning of beauty for him.
then, an idea hits his mind like a ring while he kisses your inner thighs, fingers entering in and out, taking out the last bit of your cum. “yes! of course,” he speaks to himself more than you, but he turns to you when you catch him taking the tip of his tongue with his fingers, face has the confusion that makes luffy laugh, “stay still princess, the captain has a great idea!”
“about wha – oohhh – lu – luffy!” you moan his name louder when he goes back to what he was doing a moment ago, differently now, he’s more daring, more hungry, and looks like the idea that is in his mind drives him crazy because he holds your thighs, opening your legs wider, looking up to your face and winking at you when he realizes how you’re trying to understand what he’s doing – why he’s like that! and then, it hits you –
“ooohhh my – luff –!” you even can’t finish your sentence when his tongue gets into your pussy, slowly yet effectively getting longer inside your fucking pussy! “are you out of – agghhh – your – shiii – luffy!”
he chuckles – intense sensation coming out of your pussy to your entire body rising up with the radiations his chuckle sents; a hand finds his hair, pulling them, pushing his head closer to you – an instinct that screams as the opposite version of what you’re saying, “’is too much – luffy, ‘is too much!”
without realizing any of it, you begin to cry as his hot tongue twists inside you, a feeling you have never tasted before sending both of you into oblivion – you find yourselves wanting more and more each passing time, and you don’t care that your legs cage his head between your thighs by closing around his shoulders, or how luffy’s grip on your swifts from your thighs to under your ass, picking you up, pulling you to his tongue further by the ass while using his pure strength.
you no longer have the ability to think straight – only breathing and moaning his name, it goes out of your wide open tongue as a melody – as a pray into luffy’s ears, making him moan in sync with you, doubling the feeling of being fucked by his tongue up until you begin to lose your consciousness.
his tongue hit the end of your walls, the place even you never reached on your own, and he’s not done yet.
the realization becomes knowledge when he adds his fingers along with his tongue, eyes opening and looking into yours, your dried tears refresh with new ones the moment his fingers begin to grow longer in length – he smirks, taking off his fingers back, and shoving them into you harshly – you throw your head back, “AAGGHHH – fuuuck! luffy, luffy, luffy –“
eyes go white as they roll back, hands grip his hair harder, legs shake within the rest of your body, and then you cum into his tongue – dripping into it and to the ground from there.
he sucks the flesh, drinking all the juice your body has made with such delight, you watch it with blurred vision even though you’re one step away from passing out because of how his tongue made you so weak.
“yes, princess?” he mocks, licking his lips, eyes sparkling, a smirk on his cute yet attractive face full of the glow of your cum and juice – worth it, definitely worth it. “you will not blame me for eating my favorite taste, will you?”
you shake your head, eyes closing, a hand finds his shoulder, pulling himself to you, “you’re crazy luffy.”
picking your exhausted body up, walking to the bed he will fuck you into now after you get a bit of rest, he chuckles, “for your pretty pussy, babe? always.”
with the newfound kink of using his devil fruit’s ability on you while fucking you, luffy is sure fucks you so good in that bed too.
❦ tagging: @lilvampirina & @snowprincesa1 & @dookiemeshibear *cuties*