18+ sukuna always keeps his hand on your head and you wonder why.
you started to notice that whenever sukuna would have you pinned underneath him, he'd always have one hand resting on top of your head. at first, you didn't care about it. but then it seemed to become this habitual thing and while it didn't bother you in the least, you were very curious as to why he was doing it.
so one fine night, you decide to ask him.
as sukuna's fat cock is buried deep in your syrupy pussy, every thrust making the bed creak and your swollen lips whimpering his name, his hand is right at the crown of your head — right where you expected it to be.
"suki," you gasp, nails dragging along his wide back. "can i... can i ask you something?"
"huh?" is all he manages to get out, pace faltering slightly from the sudden question but still able to pound into you mean and rough.
"why do you−," your words dissolve into a pitchy moan as he digs his nails into your sides. it takes you a moment to catch your breath back. "why is your hand always on my head?"
that makes him stop completely.
he looks at you with this near petulant look on his face, as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn't be. it almost makes you giggle, especially after you see the way the tips of his ears are now dusted with a soft pink — his tell that he is embarrassed about something.
"if i tell you, don't you dare laugh or anything," he mumbles, his eyes averting yours. you simply nod, letting him take his time to admit whatever it is he is about to.
with a quiet sigh, he mutters, "first time we did this, you hit your head on the headboard. made you cry and shit. so... yeah. i don't want that happening again."
you can't help yourself but breathe out a tiny laugh. his ears have turned darker, brows knitted together into a little frown. "aww suki," you coo, planting a gentle kiss atop his nose. "that's so cute! you're—"
sukuna suddenly thrusts into you, your back arching off the bed as you mewl pathetically below him. he's pounding into you like he has some personal vendetta against you — which he sort of does now, what with you finding out this horrifyingly embarrassing secret of his! （it really isn't, but to him it is）
You jolt at the contact on your shoulder, whipping your head around at break-neck speed, only to find a set of rippling pecs in your line of vision. Slowly, you trail your eyes up, tipping your chin all the way back to take in the behemoth that is Simon Riley.
"Oh man, you scared the shit out of me! Heh, do I really look that oblivious?"
"Oh no, love, just a little lost. Tell me, what are you looking to do? Tone up? Bulk? You want a sleeper build?" He looks down at you with tawny doe eyes, almost like he's assessing you. You don't miss how his eyes flick to other parts of your body, namely your chest and hips.
You let out an airy laugh, and look down at your pristine white air forces bashfully. "Oh, you know, I just wanna tone up a bit. Maybe lose some fat. I don't know, all I've really done up to this point is dance, yoga, and pilates."
"That's the impression I got. You look like a proper princess." He immediately face palms, then rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment. "Sorry- sorry! That was rude... You probably think me a right bastard now."
You laugh heartily, and nudge his shoulder playfully. You bite your lip thoughtfully, then toss your ponytail over your shoulder and put your hands on your hips in a confident manner. "Well, I am a princess... In many respects."
Simon feels a blush crawl up his neck, and he chuckles deeply. His laugh sounds like tires rolling over gravel, and you can't help but swoon internally. "Right... Anyways, how's about I get you set up on these weights"
Simon spends the next half hour showing you how to do rows, the Arnold press, Bulgarian split squats, and many other exercises. He insists upon sticking around to 'observe your form,' and observe your form he does. He watches as the muscles in your arms strain, and he would be a fool to miss the way your ass and thighs quiver with the squats.
After you finish your sets, Simon walks you over to the water fountain, and moves your hair out of the way so you can drink. "So, what's a bird like you wanna lose fat for anyways? I think you're proper fit, I mean- your absolutely stunnin."
You nearly choke on the stream of water, causing you to shoot up abruptly. Smiling shyly, you feel the need to explain yourself. "Well, I don't know, I just wanna be a little skinnier. I- um- thank you though."
The two of you smile at each other, your hearts beating wildly before someone whistles. You both look behind Simon to find a prickly old woman impatiently tapping her foot. You guys move from the fountain, giggling together quietly.
"Say, why don't I buy you a protein shake, and then I help you with some stretches before you head off?" Simon offers, testing the waters.
plug!simon who only responds to customers with a ‘👍’ and ‘outside’. makes them meet him halfway and doesn’t respond past a certain time unless you’re really making it worth his while. ballied up face, stone eyes striking a nervousness in every new customer. his regulars know he’s reliable and his shit is good
but then you pick up from him for the first time and suddenly he forgets his whole code of conduct. pretty thing picking up a few grams of weed to ‘help you sleep’
gives you the number he only gives to his most trusted number, dwarfing your phone in his giant hand as he taps a ghost emoji into the contact name (bc you’re pretty but he’s still a criminal babes) tells you to message him again here if you want more from him
drops you right where you request, different to his usual routine of dropping customers off on some random street to avoid the feds
actually responds to your messages with words
‘what do you need luv?” when you message at three in the morning
“downstairs darlin, don’t bring a jacket I’ll drop you back” when he arrives ten minutes later instead of just showing up when he feels like it, if he feels like it
if you actually weighed your stuff, you’d see he actually gave you more than what you ordered. don’t forget the samples of his new strains that he gave you, shoving the extra cash you tried to give him back into your hands
tattooed arm resting over the back of the passenger seat when he reverses out of wherever he picked you up, his aftershave heavy on your nostrils
cw: mentions of oral sex, first date with Simon Riley, Simon is very awkward, drabble
Simon Riley being such an awkward and blunt individual when it comes to dating- it freaks you out because you don't know where you stand. In the SAS, Simon was a cold-hearted bugger, even to his own team. There was little they knew about him and he liked to keep it that way because when things were private they were easier to deal with. What would the point even be filling his teammates, co-workers, in on private matters?
He was impassive. Socially awkward but not in the shy, anxious way people would assume. He could never read the room or bring himself to give a shit, he did what he wanted and took little to no notice of what others though. It sounded fine, and for the most part it was.
But dating was fucking hard- being paired up with real whiny, bitchy women who would just complain over every minuscule thing- fucking hell, he wasn't a goddamn therapist. He didn't have time for people like that- his job showed him how short and vague life can be and he wasn't letting anyone waste his valuable minutes. He hated dating, hated putting himself out there just to come back home and sight in relief at the emptiness- he hated everything about it until he went out with you.
Your first online interaction was a mess of you trying to use some god-awful pick-up line that everyone aside from Simon could comprehend. 'What that mean?' and 'Ok.' Being your only two responses and what the hell, you were intrigued. He was just so- cutting? So rambunctiously dull in a careless manner, you couldn't help but wonder what he was life in real life. And after a few more messages back and fourth, there was no need to wonder anymore.
You drove to the restaurant you were meeting at yourself as he didn't even offer to come pick you up. His overwhelming chivalry and charm, clearly seeping in through his actions already! But honestly you were glad that he didn't. It gave you an exit just in case the date was bad and you just had to leave. Driving there yourself on the first date wasn't anything out of the norm anyway but you were used to men offering most of the time.
You greeted each other at the entrance and you were not expecting from a few blurry selfies of him to be so tall and jacked. Muscles only just squeezing out the armholes of his shirt as he nodded to you and walked inside. Not opening the door for your or even bothering to hold it after himself- nope. Just walking inside as casual as he can be; you couldn't contain your laugh.
He ordered what he wanted to eat, letting you order what you liked as well and the two of you finally got to talking. You shared things about yourself, listened to his deep, gruffly voice share things about him and honestly- it was probably the weirdest yet the best date you had ever been on.
You weren't used to people being like this and it made you surprisingly comfortable and not so on edge as usual. There had been dates that you had gone on that you thought were great; you felt a connection, they said they reciprocated but after it was over ghosted and blocked you for some reason. It hurt you every time and with Simon, you felt like that wouldn't be the case. He seemed like the kind of person that wouldn't mess about and wouldn't still be at the table if he felt nothing.
The food came and Simon dug straight into his steak. Your cheeks warming slightly at all the people sat around the two of you, eating softly, chuckling and sipping on red wine meanwhile Simon just enjoyed himself. His chin was dripping from the juice, fingers messy because despite the knife and fork he made an attempt to use- it was just easier with his hands. Deep brown eyes catching your own and blinking in confusion. His chest fluttered at the sound of your chuckle, a small smirk inching onto his face and he hadn't felt this relaxed with someone in months. He hadn't felt able to be himself.
The dinner went on as you swallowed and picked at your food, not wanting to scare him away or embarrass yourself which was stupid given how messily and carelessly he ate. You knew he probably wouldn't care at all but still- you did it anyway. Looking up at him as you placed your fork in your mouth, catching him sucking his fingers clean. Fucking hot. The lighting was so warm- and suddenly the room felt burning hot. The electricity between the two of you, high voltage and you bit your bashful smile down. Stomach aching in arousal as he sat back in his chair watching the way your lips chewed and swallowed.
"I want to eat you out."
And you almost choked. It was so calm, so nonchalant as it practically just leaked from his mouth. No awareness, no worry for who else might have heard him say that- simply just placing his cards upon the table and informing you of what he was thinking about. Horror coating his face as he saw you splutter and choke on your words, mouth agape in shock. He didn't mean to say anything wrong- he thought that was how it was supposed to go, was it not?
Handing you a napkin and sitting forward a little more as he apologised with a guilty smile. You shook your head, mind still spinning from his words and body boiling with a newfound sexual desire. Sipping on the glass of your drink to calm yourself as you assured him it was fine, telling him it was no big deal.
you were in the band cky as the lead guitarist (just pretend that chad's the singer/rhythm guitar and deron isn't in the band.) and by association, you ended up skating with bam and his friends. of all his friends, you got on most with dico. he was the funniest by far, no one could compete with him. you got on with all of them but they all had their place. you could skate with bam, have deep conversations with ryan, rake and raab, drink with novak, jam with jess and chad.
because you were close with dico, you hung out all of the time and you both developed feelings on each other. you were blind, everyone could see it, apart from you two. april commented on it but you just laughed it off but you blushed a lot. dico noticed this and got to thinking, maybe you did like him the way he liked you. he had to think, he wanted to be with you, a lot.
for the next few days, he thought about asking you as soon as possible but he always chickened out. he finally gained the courage and it happened to be after a gig. 'you were amazing out there.' dico rushed to hug you. you were all sweaty but he didn't care. you hung out backstage while the roadies got everything back into the van. dico had his arm over your shoulders. 'can we get out of here, it's getting stuffy?' he nodded and walked you outside. he wanted to ask you now but he wanted it to be grand. he looked off into the distance.
'you okay?' you noticed that he was off recently. his head snapped back into gear and he faced you. 'shit.' you looked at him confused. 'be my girlfriend?' he asked, looking unsure. you chuckle at his face, 'of course dico, you silly guy.' his face broke out in a smile, bringing you into a kiss. you walked back into the back stage area, holding hands and all of your friends cheered, 'fucking finally.' bam yelled.
Summary: Jason accuses (Y/n) the town witch that she has cast a spell on him. Neither of them would have expected, what was really behind it.
Wordcount: 7.370
"Ah!" I cried out in surprise, when I heard the crack and the dull bang behind me and whirled around. I had expected to see a heavy branch lying on the ground and not... Jason Carver?
"What are you doing here?" I shouted, still slightly tense.
He got to his feet and knocked the leaves off his jacket. "I could ask you that? What are you doing?", he asked angrily, pointing at the basket I was holding.
I looked at him in irritation.
"What kind of voodoo are you going to do, huh?"
I raised an eyebrow. "They're daisies, you moron." I demonstratively held up one of the small flowers. "You can use them to make an ointment for sunburn." I rolled my eyes. "You followed me all the way through this forest to play witch hunting? How long have you been following me?" He was absolutely crazy.
He came up to me. "Long enough to see that these aren't daisies.", he bit out, holding up the second plant in my basket.
"Yes, this is St. John's wort. My cousin has neurodermatitis. The creams from the pharmacy are all too expensive and they don't want anyone else to pay for them, so I make her one from this. It soothes chapped skin." I grabbed the little plant and threw it back into the basket. "And before you ask.", I continued, reaching into the basket. "Mint. For my satanic tea against bloating."
Jason looked at me dully, then shook his head. "Why should I trust you?"
"Because I'm just here collecting some herbs and you're the stalker, who's been following me through the forest for at least fourty minutes.", I hissed.
Jason took a step back. "I know you're one of those weird wiccans."
"Witch."
"You admit it!"
"I'm correcting you.", I said simply.
He furrowed his eyebrows in irritation.
"Wicca is a religion. Most wiccans are witches. Not all witches are wiccans. It's like quadrates and squares." I teased him. "If you're going to hate me, you should at least use the right terms."
He looked at my basket. "Just because you're not doing anything wrong today, doesn't mean you're otherwise innocent."
I sighed. I just wanted my peace and quiet. "Yes, I'm usually sin itself. Can I have my peace now, please?"
"No."
I took a deep breath and tried to calm down. "You know what? Do what you want." With that, I turned around and tried to concentrate on the plants. "At least don't trample everything.", I snapped at him and kept walking.
"What is this stuff really for?"
"I just told you."
"You're lying."
"I could pass a lie detector test Carver."
I bent down to grab a small wild garlic plant.
"What's that?" Jason asked, almost angrily.
"Wild garlic.", I explained. "It's simply delicious in food." I threw the plant into the basket. "You're welcome to keep stalking me Jason, but try to be less angry."
"Why?"
"Because I want this", I pointed to my basket, "to have positive energies."
"It's a plant."
"Do you pray for other people's misfortune?"
"No! I'm not."
"Then don't spoil my work, wanting to do something good for the people in my life... Even if it's just to help them with sunburn."
Jason stopped short and looked at me insistently. "How do I know you're not lying?"
I looked at him as calmly as you can look at someone who calls you Satan's bitch. It was his upbringing or the media. How was he supposed to know any better? "Look for Hildegard von Bingen's herbal bible in the library. I know everything about medicinal herbs from her."
"I'm not reading the book of some devil worshipper."
"Hildegard von Bingen was a nun.", I corrected him.
Jason faltered.
"If you don't trust me, maybe you trust one of your people."
He walked slowly backwards. "I'll keep an eye on you.", he said emotionlessly.
"I'll see you at school."
"I'm just saying. Be prepared for something to come up today.", I grumbled to Eddie, poking at my salad.
Eddie shook his head, upset. "He's been stalking you?"
"Yes.", I laughed. "If he hadn't been alone, I would have been really worried."
"He's out of his mind."
"Is that news?"
I didn't know what to expect today. That got me down. Ever since my former friend Melody unintentionally outed me as a witch, I never knew what to expect the next day. She had snooped through my things and found the little pentagram pendant. After the whole school knew about it, even the head teacher called me in and told my parents.
My dad thought I had a chip on my shoulder, but otherwise wasn't interested and my mom... Well, before I explained what I was doing and that the newspapers had no idea, it took a good three hours. Three hours with a lot of tears.
I never spoke to Melody again. Eddie had taken me in with the outsiders and Jason and his gang wanted to see me at the stake.
"We'll keep watch.", Eddie said, looking down the hall.
"My heroes.", I sighed dramatically.
He grinned and bowed exaggeratedly.
I was sitting at one of the tables at the edge of the forest, scribbling listlessly on my piece of paper, when a book banged on the table next to me.
I literally jumped up and stumbled backwards, so frightened, that I toppled over the bench and fell onto my back.
I saw blonde hair and a green and white jacket.
I picked myself up stiffly. "What the hell are you?" I grumbled. "Are you making any noise at all?"
I knocked the grass off my butt and gave Jason a dirty look. He looked back just as crossly.
I looked at the book on the table. Hildegard von Bingen. "You've read it.", I said in surprise.
"Skimmed it."
I looked at his angry face and sighed. "What's wrong now?"
"The herbs might be good, but you're doing something."
I ran a hand over my face. "Jason.", I began humbly. "I'll leave you alone. Can't you do me a favor and do the same to me?"
"No!"
"Why not?" I whined.
He was breathing heavily and turned away in a huff. "Because you did something. You did something to ME. ADMIT IT!"
I faltered. "Jason what are you talking about?"
"Why do I feel this way if you haven't done some witchcraft to me?" he hissed, coming closer and closer to me. I backed up until I bumped into a tree. Jason encircled me with his arms.
"I don't know what you're talking about.", I said almost fearfully. "I don't know what you mean Jason."
"Stop saying that!"
"Say what?"
"MY NAME!"
"Jas-" I bit my lips.
He was breathing heavily. "Undo it."
"I didn't do anything. You're scaring me."
"Undo it!", he growled. He looked at me almost frantically.
"You have to tell me what's wrong or I can't help you, but I didn't do anything."
"Then why do I feel like this?", he whispered angrily.
"How do you feel?", I asked, almost pleadingly. Hoping that he would stay calm.
"How do you feel Jason?"
No sooner had his name crossed my lips than he pressed his mouth to mine. Hard and unyielding. His hands held my head in place and his body pressed against mine. I was so caught off guard, that I just stood there, like a pillar of salt, waiting. Not quite grasping what was happening.
He abruptly disengaged and stumbled back. Tears streamed down his cheeks. "Undo it.", he whispered.
I looked at him in disbelief. Not a word escaped my lips. Not a sound escaped my throat. Until a fuse in my brain clicked into place and I ran away. I ran away as fast as I could, not wasting a single thought on my stuff, which were still lying on the table.
"He's did WHAT?", shouted Eddie angrily.
I sat at the kitchen table of the trailer and looked at the tabletop in disbelief.
"I think I'm going to be sick.", I whimpered. No. I really felt sick. I was sick to my stomach. I jumped up and ran to the bathroom. I made it just in time to take the contents of my stomach to the toilet.
Eddie stumbled after me and held my hair out of my face. He stroked my back reassuringly.
When I was sure nothing more was coming, I dropped onto my butt and felt the tears on my cheeks. I wrap my arms around my legs. Eddie held out a bottle of water to me.
"Take a deep breath.", he mumbled.
"They're going to kill me Eds."
"They won't. We'll keep you safe." He pulled me into his arms. "Nothing's going to happen."
My backpack was gone, of course. What had I expected?
I sat in the library and waited impatiently for Gareth to come. I hid behind my book and tried to stay calm. One of the boys had been keeping an eye on me all day. Just in case.
Jason had been like a madman. He'd gotten it into his head that I'd cast a spell on him. He had kissed me. Jason Carver. The poster boy Jason Carver somehow had... had a crush on me and now thought I'd made him. Jason Carver had a crush on me and he hated himself for it. I was startled when I heard a backpack fall onto the table, but before I even looked up, I saw Jason's back disappearing quickly and my backpack in front of me. I reached for it hesitantly. Slowly pulled open the zipper. Carefully peeked inside. Nothing happened.
"Your backpack is back?"
I winced.
"Since when are you so jumpy?" Gareth grinned.
"Since I'm waiting for the Inquisition.", I grumbled.
POV Jason
How had I let myself get so carried away? How could I have been so stupid? Why hadn't I stayed away from her? I had given her far too much power over me.
My head was buzzing with thoughts as I walked into the theater room as Luke's note told me to.
That little witch. Why had she run away, when this was exactly what she had wanted? That had been her goal. To cast a spell on me. Had she realized that this couldn't be love? Had she perhaps really done nothing - I interrupted the thought immediately. Of course she had done something. I would never think like that about someone, who went against everything I stood for.
The door of the theater room slammed shut loudly. I turned around with a jolt and caught sight of Eddie Munson.
"Ball boy. Glad you got my message."
I looked at the note in my hand. How could I have been so stupid?
"I heard about your little meeting with (Y/n) in the woods.", he continued, walking slowly towards me.
I shouldered my backpack and moved towards the door, but Munson grabbed me firmly by the shoulders and stopped me.
"Not so fast. Where are you going?"
"Let me go!"
"Why is that? I guess it's not so much fun being hassled yourself?"
I pulled my shoulders out of his grip and pushed him away. "That's what she wanted! She started this voodoo.", I hissed. "So tell her to undo it or leave me alone!"
Munson laughed. First in disbelief, then louder, harder, until he seemed almost unable to breathe. "Oh God!", he struggled to breathe. "You really believe that."
"What's so funny?", I shouted angrily.
Munson held his stomach and sat down on one of the folding chairs. "You have a crush and you don't realize it." He wiped a tear from his face.
"I don't-"
"You think you're pretty important, don't you?", he interrupted me, still slightly breathless. "Don't you think she'd have better targets, than some bore with a twist in his panties?"
I turned away angrily and left.
"Bother her again and you can find out how to throw your balls with crutches.", he shouted after me.
I pushed the door open hard and stormed through the corridors.
I don't have a crush on that witch. I don't want anything from her. No matter how many dreams I had in which she lay with me and in which she seduced me with her smile and her scent... Those dreams weren't real. They weren't my dreams. They couldn't be mine.
"Jason." my name fell from her lips like a prayer. She clawed at my back. I kissed her neck, marking it as my own, as I thrust into her again and again. Sometimes faster, sometimes slower. I let her dance on the threshold of pleasure. Never quite gave her what she wanted. I devoured her and she gave herself to me. (Y/n's) eyes were glassy and yet warm. Looked up at me with affection and admiration. Her hands caressed my back. Her legs wrapped around my hips. She moved towards me. We were united. Two bodies and two souls in harmony.
She twitched around me. Her body tensed. She collapsed in waves of excitement. She took me with her and caught me.
The fabric under my cheek was damp. I sat up with a jerk. I was alone. Alone in my room. Just me in my bed. Sweat was sticking to my body. I wiped the saliva from the corner of my mouth in disgust. My shorts were sticking to my crotch. I pulled a face.
Why in God's name did I have to be the target of this witchcraft? Why did these dreams have to feel so good? Why did I feel so safe in them? She was a witch! She was evil. She was not gentle and sweet. I had to remind myself that she had cast a spell on me. I couldn't love her!
Where did that word come from? Why did it want to creep into my head?
I felt tears running down my cheeks. I don't want to have these thoughts!
(Y/n)s POV
The last week I had gotten away with it. None of the jocks had hit on me or hinted at anything. It just made me even more paranoid.
I was waiting for a prank. Some kind of humiliation. I was almost longing for it so I could finally get it over with.
I was walking home when a sadly too familiar car drove up slowly beside me. I didn't look up, stubbornly continued straight ahead.
I heard the side window being rolled down.
"Get in!" Jason said stubbornly.
I walked on silently.
"Get in the car now!"
"No!" I replied stubbornly.
The car came to a halt. A door opened. I quickened my steps.
A hand clutched my upper arm. "I told you to get in.", he hissed.
"But I don't want to.", I spat back.
His grip on my arm became painfully tight. "And I don't want to have these thoughts, so get in."
I tried to pull away, but it didn't help. His hands were on my arms like vices.
"What are you going to do?"
"We're going to church."
I looked at him, perplexed. "Is the pyre ready or what? For fuck's sake, Carver! I don't want anything from you except to be left alone! Even if I could do what you accuse me of, which I can't by the way, why would I want the guy who's been spitting on me for months?"
He looked at me blankly. "We'll go to the church now and talk to the priest."
I realized tears were welling up in my eyes. It was all so absurd. It... It was humiliating. Someone had a crush on me and it was so absurd that it was really happening that he suspected I had bewitched him.
"Now come on!" he ordered, pulling me roughly towards his car.
I stumbled after him.
The drive was silent and tense. I had tried to jump out at a red light, but Jason had immediately had grabbed hold of me.
When we arrived at the church, Jason dragged me up the steps of the building and through the door into the large main room.
I had never been in a church before. My parents weren't believers, so there was never any reason to attend one.
He looked at me insistently.
I remained stubborn. "What? Did you expect me to burst into flames?"
His jaw tightened. "Come on." he growled.
Roughly, he dragged me to a small room and knocked.
Priest Mitchel opened it for us. "Jason. Hello... And you must be (Y/n)."
I nodded hesitantly.
"Can you give us a moment alone Jason?" the priest asked, stepping aside to clear the way into his office.
Jason reluctantly let go of me.
I cautiously stepped into the priest's office. I only knew him by sight, but he always seemed nice and friendly.
"Why don't you sit down for a minute? Would you like some tea?"
"Uh... No. Thanks."
He just nodded and sat down on an exercise ball opposite me. "They don't look particularly professional, but they're good for your back.", he smiled.
I just nodded. "My mom has one too."
He grinned. "Very well." He became more serious. "Jason told me about his situation." I stiffened. "Don't worry. I won't drag you to the torture chamber. But whether you've done anything or not... Jason... Got stuck on that idea and knowing the boy, he's not going to let it go."
I sighed. "So you're not getting out the pitchforks?"
He smiled. "No. Believe it or not. My wife went through a phase like you once."
"And if it's not a phase?"
"Then I pray you stay true to the right path anyway."
I looked thoughtfully at the table in front of me. "And how do I get rid of that witch hunter out there now?" I muttered. "You know him better than I do."
Father Mitchel looked thoughtfully at my bag. "You don't happen to have any herbs with you?"
I looked up irritated. "What? No. I was at school. What do I want with herbs there?"
"Hm... Well, the tea will have to do then."
He reached into the drawer of his desk and pulled out a packet of fruit tea. Relaxed, he cut open a good six bags and tipped them into a small decorative bowl.
"What are you up to?"
He grinned. "We're breaking a spell for Jason's sake. Under my supervision, of course, so he'll feel more comfortable and confident about it."
I raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Don't you always say you shouldn't lie?"
"Special situations call for special measures."
"You're a strange priest."
"And I'm very proud of that."
Less than five minutes later, I was sitting behind the church in front of a small bowl of fruit tea, trying to remain serious. Jason and Father Mitchel watched me from a safe distance, how I lit a small piece of paper on which my and Jason's names were crossed out.
Normally, you would use two candels with a connected wick to break a love spell, but Jason didn't know that.
I threw the note into the bowl and watched it burn. The tea left a sickeningly sweet smell, but the light breeze made it disappear quickly.
I waited patiently for the flames to recede and then grabbed the ashes to let them blow away with the breeze for show.
Jason watched everything with eagle eyes, but actually seemed a little calmer with Father Mitchel at his side.
I got up from my cross-legged position and lifted the bowl. A pretty little thing.
I put it in Father Mitchel's hand. He nodded at me with a smile. "If you ever think about it, the church is always open to you."
"That... That's very nice. Thank you."
"Well then. Accounting is waiting." He sighed and walked back around the building.
Jason looked at me appraisingly. I let him.
"Can you at least take me home now? I don't have any money for the bus."
He struggled with himself, but then motioned for me to follow him.
The journey was calm. Tense, but calm.
I quickly squeezed out of the car when we arrived at my house. "Thank you. Bye.", I mumbled and disappeared into the house as quickly as I could.
Hopefully, this haunting was finally over.
POV Jason
She kissed me so tenderly. Her arms were wrapped around my neck. Her body was warm as it pressed against mine. I could feel her breasts through both our shirts. I enjoyed her hands in my hair. I stroked her ribs. She giggled slightly. Bit my lower lip playfully. I laughed. I felt bliss. I felt light. Here in this meadow, lying on a scratchy picnic blanket, with her in my arms. She kissed the tip of my nose. She ran her thumb over my cheeks.
"I love you.", I murmured and gently kissed the diamond ring on her ring finger.
I woke up suddenly. Annoyed, I hit the alarm clock and buried myself under the thick comforter again. Still slightly foggy, I tried to fall back asleep and continue dreaming where I had left off. I wanted to go back to the meadow and (Y/n)-
I stiffened up. No. No. No!
Why another dream like this? I curled up under the blanket and pressed my hands against my forehead. I tried to push these wishes out of my brain.
But she had dissolved the spell. Father Mitchel was there. That couldn't be. It couldn't be.
I wanted to be normal again.
POV (Y/n)
I sat on my favorite table in the woods and looked thoughtfully at my tarot cards. The lovers had been extremely persistent in my last readings. I threw all the cards back on the pile and shuffled them vigorously. That didn't make any sense. I haven't really felt it anyway.
I shuffled and suddenly one of the cards flew out of the pile. I turned it over and sighed in surrender. The fool glared at me maliciously. "All right. I get it.", I growled annoyed and put the cards on the table.
I heard it crack behind me. I quickly jumped up and looked around.
God no.
"Jason?"
He didn't say anything, just sat down at the table. He looked tired. Listlessly, he threw his backpack in front of him and lay down on it. But he kept his eyes on me. His eyes wandered to the cards on the table. Strangely, he didn't react.
I didn't say anything. I didn't move.
"What do you want here?"
He was still looking at the cards and reached for one that had clearly slipped out of the deck. When he threw it back down, annoyed, I saw the lovers again.
"I give up.", he mumbled. His voice was low and raspy.
I hesitantly sat down next to him. "What are you giving up on?"
"It didn't work... The voodoo from yesterday."
How could it? It was just for show. I sighed anyway. I had somehow hoped that maybe it would influence him enough to finally put his mind at rest.
"Go on, then. Do what you want.", he grumbled.
I furrowed my eyebrows in irritation. "What?"
"You wanted me. Go on."
I breathed in and out in a controlled manner to control my anger. "Jason.", I groaned, annoyed.
He looked at me devotedly. I rubbed my hands over my face. "Okay. How about you pray?"
He sat up. "You want me to beg you too?"
I rolled my eyes. "To your god, you idiot."
He faltered. "Why?"
"Can't you ask him what's right and what's not? Ask him for the truth."
He faltered. His eyes screamed with confusion.
"Come on," I groaned and put my cards away. "I'll even clean up."
He sat up straighter. Watched me. "All right.", he murmured. His hands pushed together almost cautiously. He rested his elbows on the tabletop and gave me another quick glance. "No games.", he ordered.
I held my hands up in the air defensively.
He closed his eyes and rested his forehead on his hands. It seemed so... antiquated. The way he sat there mumbling to himself. The way he held his hands. It all looked so ancient.
I went about my own thoughts until I suddenly heard him sobbing.
I pulled myself out of my thoughts. Jason was still in his prayer position but I heard him turn up his nose.
His hands separated and immediately ran over his face. I quickly looked in my backpack and grabbed the small pack of tissues.
"Here." I held them out to him.
He grabbed it without a word and wiped his tears away, blew his nose loudly and then threw it on the table.
"Jason." I was practically whispering. As if every loud noise would destroy the world.
He just shook his head. "You're not supposed to say my name.", he replied just as quietly.
"Then what am I supposed to call you?"
He wiped away another tear. Silently, he looked at the tabletop.
"Why do you hate me so much?" I asked.
He grimaced. "I think we both know that the opposite is the problem."
I shook my head. "No, you're conflicted. You hate the... Interest in me."
He sighed and reached for another tissue. "Why do you have to be a witch?"
I smirked. "That's it?"
"You go against everything I believe in.", he pressed out.
I sighed. "How about you pay your debt?"
He looked at me, confused. "What kind of debt?"
"You dragged me to your priest and now you're meeting one of my friends. Don't worry. She's a Christian... And a witch."
He laughed dismissively. "No such thing."
I held out my hand to him. "Let's make a bet, then."
He hesitated. "What bet?"
I thought about it for a moment. "If I win, you stop putting the basketballtaining on the Hellfire meetings."
Jason's jaw tightened. He reached for my hand. "If I win, you come to the service with me. For a month."
"Deal.", I grinned.
"Deal.", he bit back.
"Here?" Jason asked incredulously as he brought the car to a halt.
My friend's house was a simple terraced house. A small front garden with flower beds and a bright yellow façade.
I just nodded. "Yup. This is where she lives." I got out and waited for him to do the same. We walked down the small driveway and Jason eyed the cross on the thermometer next to the door.
It opened and my friend Jannice emerged. She was in her mid-thirties and, as always, a bit over the top.
"(Y/n)!", she shouted happily.
"Hey Jan.", I laughed and let myself be pulled into a hug.
"You haven't been around for far too long. You really need to make me some of that lavender oil again. I've just dried some. You can take it with you right away. Uh! Who have we got here? Let me look at you!" She hugged Jason, who was completely taken by surprise and just stood there.
"I can't believe you're fishing for such a tasty treat. I would have bet on the curly head with the puppy eyes..."
"Jan, we're not a couple.", I quickly interrupted her.
"Oh... Oh well." She brushed one of her wild curls out of her face. "Well, come in."
We entered the house and went into the kitchen, which, as always, smelled wonderfully of all kinds of flowers and herbs.
Jason stopped in the doorway and looked at a small table with a cross and a candle on it. He looked at them closely. The candle was bright pink. Definitely not a candle that was available at the service.
He turned back to us. "(Y/n) says you are a Christian.", he said clumsily, but Jannice just smiled again.
"Yes, that's right."
"And she says you're a... witch."
She put a tin of cookies on the table. "Yes. That's true, too."
Jason looked at her suspiciously. "But that can't work."
Jabnice laughed. "Oh boy. Have a seat. Eat a cookie and then I'll explain everything you want."
Jason still sat stiffly on a chair. "What's in the candle?", he began and Jannice started.
"But there are rules!" Jason huffed.
Jannice nibbled on a cookie. "I live by the rule of being a good person. How many more rules do you need? Treat your fellow human beings with love and helpfulness."
Jason put his coffee cup down firmly on the table. "But then everyone can do what they want!"
"If the law was repealed tomorrow that killing someone was illegal, would you do it?"
"Of course not!"
"And yet there are people who do it despite the law." She poked Jason's chest with her finger. "Because our ethics aren't always governed by rules."
She leaned back in her chair. "Why do you want to understand it, if you're so sure of your religious interpretation?"
Jason faltered.
They were a mismatched pair. So different and yet so similar.
"Jason wants to broaden his horizons a little.", I interjected.
Jannice eyed him. "To broaden your horizons, your heart has to be open."
Jason sighed. "Open heart. I just don't get it!", he huffed.
Jannice put a hand on his shoulder. "Your head doesn't understand or your heart?"
Jason gave her a pained look. "What's the difference?"
She smiled gently at him, but there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. "Because your head only tells you what you've learned. Your heart tells you what you've always known."
Jason's eyes sparkled treacherously wet again, but he blinked bravely.
Jannice's gaze showed understanding. "You were never really allowed to ask questions."
Jason shook his head. "There were rules."
She nodded. "Well. I listen to every question. My door is always open."
Jason didn't respond. Just grabbed another lavender cookie.
He stayed silent for a long time on the drive back. "I really want to understand this," he whispered.
Even though I didn't know what had happened to him, I had seen that something inside him had been shaken awake. Something that he had put to sleep was stretching and trying to understand why it hadn't been allowed to go through all those years.
"These things take time," I replied calmly.
Jason nodded. "Should I apologize?"
I grinned. "What does your gut say?"
He shook his head, annoyed. "I thought we were focusing on the heart."
I laughed lightly. "Everyone gets their knowledge from somewhere else."
He was silent for a moment. "I'm sorry." His eyes shot to me very briefly.
I bit my lip. "It's okay."
"And now what?" Eddie asked me as we lay on the roof of the trailer and looked up at the sky.
I shrugged my shoulders, even though he couldn't see that. "I don't know."
He sighed. "Do you think he'll shut up now?"
I had to smile. "I think it's more likely that things are just starting now. You should have seen them." I let the thought slip away and the confusion of the last few days settled over me. "This is all so absurd.", I muttered.
Eddie laughed. "I still can't believe he thought you put a spell on him."
I sighed. "Why wouldn't he? I'm not exactly his typ."
Eddie nudged me. "Of course you're not. They're completely hollow."
I shook my head. A sad smile spread across my face. "Can you play my best girl-friend for a minute?"
"Shall I get the nail polish?"
I punched him lightly.
"Sure.", he grinned.
I closed my eyes in surrender to make it easier. "It was so far-fetched, that he could really have a crush on me, that he thought I'd jinxed him Eddie.... That's... Why is it so far-fetched to have a crush on me?"
He patted my shoulder. "I'm sticking to the fact, that they're hollow."
I continued to gaze at the stars and fell silent. How could you treat someone you had a crush on with such disgust?
"What's going to happen with him now?" Eddie had turned his head towards me and was looking at me questioningly.
"What do you mean?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "Well, he understood that he thinks you're hot and now what?" He twirled his rings. "Are you going out? Are we still seeing each other? Do I have to find another club witch because you're hanging out with the cool kids now?"
I looked at him, confused. "We're not going out.", I blurted out. "We're just... I don't know. There's a truce?"
Eddie furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "He fancies you (Y/n).", he said forcefully. "We know that now. How do you feel about him?"
I looked at him dully. "I've never thought about it.", I confessed. "Don't look at me like that! I was waiting for the funeral pyre."
Eddie shook his head in amusement. "I don't believe I'm saying this, but you two seem to be perfect for each other."
I nudged him roughly. "That's not funny!"
"Yes it is."
I pouted.
"So. How do you feel about him? Tell your best friend."
I rubbed my face. "I don't know. He... I mean he hasn't exactly been nice over the last few months." I listened to the rustling of leaves around us. "Can you like someone you're supposed to hate?"
"If we asked Jason, he'd say yes. Come on. What do you think of the Bible boy, non-judgmentally."
I sighed. "It's not that simple.... I mean... I don't know... He seems ambitious?"
"Very romantic." Eddie nodded, playing serious.
I groaned in annoyance. "He's probably quite good looking."
A grin appeared on his face.
"But I don't understand how he can dress like that.", I grumbled
Eddie continued to grin. "I knew you had a thing for Andrew!"
"Andrew?"
"Breakfast Club... Jock Andrew."
I blushed. "Shut up."
Eddie chuckled. "Would the basketball shorts on Jason be more your thing?"
"I told you to shut up."
"Oh, no. I'm going to enjoy this. Besides, he's definitely dreaming about banging you. So you can let it all out."
"He doesn't." I blurted out immediately.
Eddie couldn't stop laughing. "He has a cock and he likes you. He definitely dreams about you two fucking."
I gave him a petulant look. "You really are a catty best friend."
"And I love you very much."
"But... You could curse someone?", Jason asked me hesitantly.
We were sitting at the table in the woods again. As usual, Jason had come to me like a ghost and then started asking questions.
"I could probably try it. No idea if it would even work. Anyway. It's not my thing."
Jason looked very thoughtful as usual. "Why are you so insistent on only doing good?"
His blue eyes looked confused. "You could and you don't think anyone will punish you for it. Why don't you?"
"I never said I wouldn't be punished for it.", I objected.
He played with the zipper on his backpack. "And who's punishing you?"
"Karma.", I said simply. "Everything you send out comes back to you threefold."
"Hm."
He was silent for a moment. Let it sink in. "Okay."
Meanwhile, I sat in my seat and couldn't get the conversation with Eddie out of my head. Somehow the fact that Jason had admitted to having a crush on me had made it real. Did he really dream about me? Did I want him to dream about me? My ego wanted it, but did I want it?
I sighed without realizing it.
Jason looked at me questioningly. I waved him off. He looked thoughtfully at the table again. "Is there a spell to get rid of feelings?", he asked quietly.
I looked at him, irritated. "What?"
He rubbed his forehead. "I don't know which synapse has locked onto you, but we both know that there's no future in this. Apart from the fact that I very much doubt by now that you want anything from me." He stood up angrily. "So please. Do something and set me free."
I felt the anger boiling up inside me. First mixed with shame, then all the clearer and stronger.
"Set you free? I'm sorry that your limbic system isn't playing along with your image planning. I'm sorry that it's so disgusting to have a crush on me that you even have to assume you've been cursed. I'm sorry, Carver", I bit out his name, "that I'm not good enough."
I could feel the heat in my cheeks. "But you could at least have the decency not to throw that in my face every time you see me!"
I grabbed my backpack gruffly, which unfortunately only caused my tarot cards to fall out and scatter across the forest floor.
Jason just looked at me dully. A gust of wind hit me in the back and blew the last card away.
Jason bent down for it and held it out to me unseen.
I tryed hard not to crumple it up. The damn lovers. I breathed in and out in a controlled manner.
"I'm sorry-"
"Save it." I interrupted him immediately. I held my hands in front of me defensively. "Just let it go." I put the card with the others and zipped up the backpack.
The wind picked up, but I paid it no mind. I just kept going, no matter how hard the wind tore at me. How could the weather change so quickly?
"Now wait!" Jason called after me. "You can't walk through the forest in a storm like this. Let me drive you."
"No!"
I felt a hand around my upper arm, yanking me backwards. I heard a loud crack. A rumble of thunder rolled through the forest. The ground vibrated.
Jason had held me protectively against him. It was only when I managed to free myself that I saw his shocked face. When I turned around, I saw it.
A not exactly delicate branch was lying right where I was about to go. That thing would have easily broken every bone in my body.
As soon as I'd gotten over the situation, the wind died down, but only a little.
"Come on," Jason said and pulled me along with him. His hands were firmly on my shoulders and he swiftly escorted me to his car.
I stayed still for the rest of the journey. Jason had thrown his jacket on me because he had decided I would definitely be cold. The radio was switched off because it had started raining halfway and the signal was gone.
I hated that Jason's jacket smelled good. He wasn't supposed to smell good. He wasn't supposed to look good. His stupid upper arms shouldn't be so attractive.
Pouting, I averted my eyes.
"I can't see anything.", Jason grumbled loud enough to drown out the pattering of the rain. I didn't look at him. But then I felt the car stop.
"What are you doing?"
"I can't see five feet far. We have to wait for the rain to stop.", he explained defensively. I groaned in annoyance and rolled my eyes. Great. Still sulking, I crossed my arms and sank further into the seat.
He did the same. His upper arms stretched his shirt. I shook my head to get rid of the thought.
"I'm sorry, but you have to admit that I don't really fit into your life either.", he grumbled at me from the side.
I grit my teeth. "You know what? Maybe things would have been different, if you hadn't spent the last few months making my life a living hell.", I spat at him.
He looked back just as angrily. "And I'm sorry! God knows I'm trying to understand, but I can't change the past!"
"Where did your sudden interest in me come from anyway? Heh? How can you be so divided in your desires?"
His hands were clenched into fists. "Because not everyone can be who they want to be!", he shouted. "Because I can't like everyone! Because I can't just feel the way I want to!", he continued to shout, looking at me angrily. "Do you think I care what you do with your herbs? Do you think I want to be like that? I don't want to! I want to be normal, but I can't!" He breathed heavily and narrowed his eyes. "There were always rules. I was NEVER allowed to question them. I wasn't allowed to play with everyone. I wasn't allowed to be friends with everyone.... And I wasn't allowed to fall in love with everyone." He took a deep breath. "And people look... They talk when you don't do what they expect you to do." He looked stubbornly at the steering wheel. He continued to speak so quietly that I almost didn't hear him over the rain. "I'm not supposed to like you. I do... I do, but I'm not allowed to... Not until I... Before I... Before I've moved away and have a life for myself. Before I can... can be new."
And that's when a light went on. The fool. New. "Those were your cards!", I blurted out before I could hold it back.
"Wh-what?" He looked at me, snapped out of his emotions.
I rummaged for my little notebook. "I've been drawing the same four cards over and over again for weeks.", I explained. "The ten of wands. You suppress your feelings and desires and thus prevent yourself from being happy. The lovers. I probably don't need to explain. Then the tower. Tower moments bring down all walls... And the fool. New beginnings... Those were your cards!"
He looked at me, perplexed. "Okay?"
I looked at him insistently. "You... You can't spend your whole life pretending to be someone else!"
He sighed. "Not my whole... Just until... after college... Until I get a job." He closed his eyes. "That's a long time, but... Not forever."
"And then what? Do you just get up one day and become a different person? Ignore all the connections you've made up to that point?", I asked.
I saw the turmoil on his face. "What else am I supposed to do? If it gets out that I have a crush on someone like you, my father will call an exorcist."
I laughed in disbelief.
"I'm not joking! My father... is strict.", he concluded choppily.
I faltered. "How strict?"
He shook his head. I put a hand on his. He exhaled shakily. A tear rolled down his cheek. He didn't wipe it away. The rain continued to pelt down. Shielding us from the outside world.
"I can only really be me in my dreams.", he said more calmly now. "And now you've just snuck in there." He took a deep breath. Seemed to want to calm himself down.
"What am I doing in your dreams?" I asked cautiously.
"You just make me happy," he confessed. "You're there and give me so much affection. I can let myself go. I can laugh and... and... and I know I've ruined any chance of it really being like that." He roughly wiped the next tear from his face. "It drives me insane to wake up every morning and all of this is gone. I have to put that possibility of happiness behind me every morning and pretend that desire doesn't exist."
So that was him. Jason Carver. Behind the speeches and the facade. Behind the perfection and bravado. Broken. Unhappy. Alone.
"Jason.", I whispered.
He shook his head.
"Jason... I understand." I just said. "And... I think I can forgive you... With a little time."
He wiped more tears from his face. I squeezed his hand. "When you're ready, I'd like to meet the real Jason."
"I don't know when that will be.", he confessed.
"I can be very patient. But do me a favor."
He looked at me questioningly.
"No matter when you show the world, please figure out who you want to be by then."
His breath was shaky. "I'll try."
POV Jason
Seven years later
I sat exhilarated at the table of the small café, looking at my watch for the fifth time in two minutes. She probably wasn't coming. God it had been seven years. Seven years since we graduated. Since we only met rarely and secretly in the woods. Seven years since she had kissed me the last time we met. Seven years that I had thought about that kiss again and again, dreamt about it, longed for it. Seven years in which we had only exchanged letters and I had kept them all.
Seven long years in which so much could happen.
Seven years and now she was suddenly standing in front of me again. Grown up and as radiant as ever.
"Hi." She smiled gently at me.
"Hi." I whispered back in awe.
8 years later
She was lying in my bed. She cuddled up to me. It wasn't a dream. It was real. I smelled the scent of her hair. I felt her body against mine. I felt the warmth of her skin. I heard her steady breathing.
I pulled my arms tighter around her naked body and closed my eyes. It was real. We were both real.
9 years later
"Yes. Yes I do!", she smiled at me and euphorically wrapped her arms around me.
I felt a weight fall from my shoulders. She had said yes.
With nervous hands, I put the ring on her finger.
I immediately pulled her into a kiss, unwilling to let her get away again in the near future.
10 years later
I was lying with her in a meadow. The weather was warm but pleasant. The sun danced through the leaves above us.
We kissed lazily. I ran a hand under her shirt and over her ribs. She giggled. Ticklish as she was. She playfully bit my lip. Then kissed me on the tip of my nose. Stroked my cheek. I kissed the ring on her ring finger. "I love you.", I murmured.
She smiled warmly at me. "I love you.", she replied.
I smiled. "I've dreamt about this before.", I whispered.
"And is it as good as your dreams?"
I felt the warmth and bliss inside me and shook my head. "It's better." I kissed her lips softly. "It's real."
Simon doesn't do girlfriends. He's not hanging out or going on dates or buying you flowers or food or hairpins.
It's just...well he might accidentally stop by to get chinese takeouts and might see to buy shiny pin and other things you have saved in, and well, he just might think of you in everything he sees.
And god forbid a woman staying in his house ?! Taking over his clothes and frowning at the lack of furniture and pictures on wall and dull curtains.
No, that's absurd. But...well he might take you to ikea and might indulge in your ifs and buts and might get you something which makes your eyes glimmer and might take you home —to spend all evening assembling it, taking his time telling you how to turn allen key, the click of dowel, the wood quality, the torque of screws.
He might let you stay after and give him shoulder massage, might let you hold his face from behind and turn his neck to kiss him square on mouth.
He might buy frames for all the polaroids of you in his sweats, or stirring the pot, or looking at your laptop, and the one where you're draped on his shoulder might be the one he caresses with his thumb every so often.
He might go to that pottery place you gushed about and might sit behind you with his hands pressed onto yours and might make a ( heart shaped ?! ) cup with his and yours initials carved and baked and painted into the beautiful clumsy thing.
He might drink his morning coffee to whiskey in that cup only.
He might get a second key.
He might put those shampoos you smell so much of, in his cabinets.
He might change the dull curtains to your favourite colour.
He might just upside down his whole world for you to take a look around and smile.
And well Simon doesn't really do girlfriends, but he might just die if it's not your yapping he falls asleep to, with your hair poking his chin and gibberish of all day long ending to a soft sweet sigh — goodnight baby.
a deep, peaceful silence infiltrates cabin three heavily. a long day it had been. but what you always found comforting was the end of that long day.
when you lay in bed, stuffing your face with ice cream and curling yourself into percy until you soon fall into the arms of hypnos for the night.
or not really night. on an average day you’d only end up falling asleep sometime in the am; two or three usually. but the idea is the same so whatever.
percy’s fingers twine through your hair in a soothing, continuous pattern that nearly has you falling asleep if not for the cold sweet treat you’re avidly eating.
your legs are in a tangle with his beneath blankets, skin brushing and rubbing against each other. he’s cold in comparison to your warmth and you think that’s another clear factor to why you have to be soulmates.
“I want a bite.”
you stick your spoon into the ice cream and then place it in percy’s mouth. he bites down on the spoon which makes you send him a glare in response until he lets it go.
“how much is left?”
“mhmm….. few bites?”
“good.” percy sighs in relief and attempts to look down at the bowl on his bare chest. “it’s cold.”
you giggle lightly. “I’ll eat it quick.”
like said, you begin shoving bites into your mouth until percy tugs faintly at your hair. “don’t eat too fast, sweet girl, you’ll get a brain freeze.”
you huff but nonetheless, finishing scraping the remainder in small, slow, portions. one finished, you remove the bowl from percy’s chest (thankfully to him) and place it on the nightstand.
then, you return back to previous position, head tucked against his shoulder. his hand returns instantly to your locks. he presses a kiss to your forehead softly.
“I’m not as tired now.”
“well, sweet girl, considering your sugar intake, I wonder why that is.”
you turn your head upwards and scowl at him. with his free hand, percy rubs his thumb over your bottom pouting lip. you reach out to bite it but he takes it back before you can.
“you are no fun.”
“I let you bite me plenty.” oh how you loved biting his biceps.
you don’t respond, but rub your face against his skin like a kitty.
“don’t go silent on me.”
“I’ve decided I’m falling asleep.”
“it’s good to have goals, sweet girl, I’m proud of you.”
you sigh and close your eyes. “joining me?”
percy doesn’t miss a beat before his response. “of course I am.”
pt 2 of the dennis You thing uh fair warning it's kinda all over the place but i had fun writing it (also gonna post it w the original but im a boomer and despite a decade on this site i still don't know how to work it properly lmao)
(nsfw, minors DNI)
There's something wrong with me. I haven't really been sleeping which is doing a number on the bags under my eyes. I keep getting these crazy headaches. I think I'm breaking out- I caught a blemish in the mirror last night and I'm certain it's gotten worse. Unfortunately, it's all your fault. The last woman I slept with was in and out of my mind faster than I was in and out of her, but you are driving me absolutely insane. Mac has started to notice, which is goddamn annoying. He keeps looking at me like I have some kind of disease, asking me stupid questions, constantly hovering. Maybe it's because I stopped eating. Or maybe it's because I stopped taking my meds. Either way, he knows something is up, but he can't find out, and neither can Charlie, and absolutely not Frank. You're too sweet to keep a secret from Dee and, no offense, but quite frankly, I don't think you could- you're not a very good liar. And if Dee knows we slept together, what if she told you about all the weird and horrible things I've done? She's been oddly quiet about the whole thing. I can't even think about it without feeling nauseous. What if she told you about the system? Or the binders? Or the tapes? Or all that stuff hidden in the side panel in the trunk of my car? I'm not stupid, I know that stuff is more than off-putting- it's incriminating. I need to calm down. I really need a Valium but I forgot to get my prescription filled- my mind has been occupied by one thing: you.
It's been about a week since we had sex. I made you dinner, and I did my homework- I knew exactly what to say, exactly when to laugh, exactly how and where to touch you. I like the music you listen to and the movies you watch, or at least that's what I made you think when I had it all queued up, with notes on your favorite parts. We're compatible, see? I drank too much, which was stupid of me, but you didn't seem to mind. It all happened so fast and intense and I was in control right up until I wasn't. As I watch the tape for the 500th time I swear I can pinpoint the exact moment you slipped into my brain and made a permanent home there. That night I did the unthinkable and actually allowed you to stay over and when I woke up the next morning with you lying beside me I was shocked to realize that I actually hated the thought of you leaving. And when you did finally leave, I felt so empty it made me sick.
Usually, once I've been with someone intimately, my desire for them fizzles into boredom within a few hours or so, but I feel like I want you more now than I ever did before. I need to feel your hands on my body, your breath against my neck, your lips on mine. I need to taste you again. I want to own you, put you on a leash or handcuff you to my bed and leave you there so that I know you're all mine.
I need to shower. I need to eat something. I need my meds. My hands are starting to tremor and when I stand up my head rushes and I almost blackout. Is this what it feels like? I'd almost forgotten. I need to focus. The last time I felt even remotely this way for someone, it ended in alimony and a murder accusation. I pick up my phone from my bedside table. 5:17 PM.
"Hey. Stop by the bar if you're out tonight, drinks are on me." Send. I groan. Get it together. I should really go and open the bar. Can't forget to stop by the pharmacy.
It takes me two hours to get ready because I can't decide what to wear or which cologne you might like more. The uncertainty is making me so anxious I forget to grab something to eat on the way out.
"Dennis! Can I come with you?"
I think Mac is yelling at me as I bound down the stairs, but I don't really care- I can't handle him right now. Outside the sun is getting low, painting the sidewalk with shadows. When I get to my car and slide into the driver's seat, I immediately feel a little better. The warmth of the day coupled with the smell of the interior lull the chaos into a low buzz. I inhale through my nose and close my eyes. Relax. I turn on the Range and the radio comes to life. I cringe, resist the urge to cover my ears with my hands as the chorus of "Hungry Like the Wolf" blasts at full volume. I snatch the dial and turn it down. Any other time I would've loved a little Duran Duran, but right now, it's jarring and abrasive. I pull out a Jimmy Buffet CD and stick it into the slot. As I back out of a parallel park, I begin to sing along, "I spent four lonely days in a brown LA haze, and I just want you back by my side." That's right, focus. Pharmacy. Bar. Pharmacy. Bar. Pharmacy. Bar.
I almost blow up at the pharmacist over the fact that it takes twice as long to get my prescription, except that she looks at me like she knows me, and not in a good way. She's tall, with dark hair and chocolate eyes, and I have to admit she does look a little familiar, but she's not you, so it doesn't matter. When she hands me my prescription and I still don't recognize her, she seems irritated.
Back in the Range, I pop open the cap and dump the pills in my hand. I pick out one and swallow it dry. The rest of the medication go back into the bottle, with the cap twisted tight, and I'm off to the bar, 20mph over the speed limit. When I finally turn onto Paddy's block, I clock Dee's car across the street from the entrance. I should have never given her that damn key. But then again, I've been so distracted lately, maybe I left it unlocked. Thank god the Valium is starting to kick in, otherwise I would be boiling over right now. Lucky her, I guess. I still slam the door when I get out, but before I enter the building, I roll the tension out of my shoulders and take a deep breath.
Inside, Dee is sitting at the bar, facing the door, with a heavy pour of wine in her hand and a smug grin plastered on her sharp face. Our entire lives, she's never bested me in anything other than being born 3 minutes before me, so her confidence right now is unnerving.
"Oh come on, really? Have you just been sitting here alone all day getting drunk?" a successful attempt at knocking her down a peg. Whatever you've told her (or she's told you) has inflated her ego dangerously.
"What?! Fuck you, I'm not drunk, I'm trapping you," she snaps back.
"Trapping me?" I can't help but laugh. It's so easy to get under her skin. I step behind the bar and take a clean glass to the tap, pouring myself a beer, preparing myself for what's to come.
"What do you want with my friend you little freak?" she blurts out, as clumsy with her words as she is with her lanky body.
"You have friends?" the drugs are doing their job. I feel like I'm beginning to even out, gain some control.
Dee, on the other hand, is seeing red, "You know who I'm talking about, don't play stupid with me. You couldn't just bang her and be done?" So then she knows I invited you.
"Honestly, Dee, I don't know who you're talking about," I take a sip of my beer and lean on the bar.
"Oh yeah? Then why don't I just text her and tell her not to come to Paddy's tonight?" Bitch. She smiles when she sees the mask come off and I glare at her.
"Whatever," my jaw clenches a little, but I try to maintain my posture.
"So? What are you planning?" she asks, and I roll my eyes.
"You always assume the worst," to be fair, she's also seen the worst.
"Yeah, because you haven't fucked the same girl twice since high school," that's probably true, "So what is it? You trying to prove some point to Mac? Did you and Frank make some gross bet about 'who could fuck Dee's friend first'? I mean what are you up to?" she squints at me, trying desperately to see inside my brain. I just shrug.
"Nothing," she should know I'm telling the truth- it's incredibly difficult to lie to your twin. But apparently I absorbed most of her brain in the womb.
"Dennis."
"Deandra," I mock, my patience wearing thin. Before she can open her big mouth, I say, "It's just drinks, ok? I had fun last time and I figured we could all hang out. That's all."
The longer the silence lingers, the more she begins to believe me until her eyes go wide, and she gasps, "Oh my God!" Suddenly, the door crashes open and in walk Frank, Mac, and Charlie. My stomach drops. I shoot her a pleading look, but she's ecstatic.
"Don't fuck this up for me," I whisper through clenched teeth, but it's too late. Dee turns to the gang.
"Dennis has a crush!" she shouts. The guys go silent. Mac's face twists as he cocks his head to the side.
"On a girl?" Frank doesn't look convinced.
"No he doesn't," Mac says incredulously. Good boy.
"Yeah, come on, Dee, what are you saying?" Charlie laughs.
"Shut up, Dee. If Dennis had a crush I would know about it, right Dennis?" Mac flashes his puppy eyes at me.
"Yeah, for sure," I reply, and Mac gives Dee an 'I told you so' look. The wind is absolutely sucked out of her sails.
"No, no, guys, do you remember my friend from the other day?" she desperately tries to hold their attention, but they've already stopped caring. We exchange glances, but that's the last of it.
"Dennis, pour me a glass of that slippery drink," Frank says as he climbs onto a barstool. My nerves are too fried for this shit.
"How am I supposed to know what that is?"
Frank waves his hand, "I don't know, Charlie always makes it for me."
"Oh good, I'm sure it's not something poison, then."
"No, no, Dennis, see, the Borax gives it this really nice sweet metallic taste-" Charlie begins to explain, but I raise my hand to cut him off.
"You know what, Charlie? I'm going to stop you right there because Borax is the stuff we use to clean the bar towels." I turn back to Frank, "I'm not making that- you're getting a beer."
"Oh, me too, please, Dennis!" Mac chimes in as he squeezes past Dee to sit on the stool beside her, nearly knocking her off her seat.
A few hours and a couple of drinks later, the door to Paddy's opens and in you walk with a burst of cool night air. There's the clatter of pool balls as Mac stands from his shot and I smile at you from the table, leaning on my pool stick, the medication and the alcohol bringing me right back down to where I need to be.
"Hey! Look who it is!" Charlie, who is drunk enough to be slurring his words, waves you over. "Wanna see something crazy I found in the alley today?" Before he can show you whatever it is, Dee pulls you aside and shoves some strong cocktail she made into your hand. I need to intercept.
"You want another drink?" I ask Mac to cover myself. I want to sprint over to you but I need to have self control.
"Nah," thankfully, he's busy lining up and practicing his next shot. As I make my way over I can feel my heart beating against my rib cage like a trapped moth.
"Hey," I hug you, kissing you on the cheek as I lean in. You're so warm and your hair smells like shampoo.
"Hi," your face feels hot against my cheek and when I pull away I can see that it's starting to turn pink. Dee looks like she's about to throw up.
"You wanna play?" I ask, motioning to the pool stick in my right hand, "Mac and I just finished a game."
"Yeah, sure," you look so cute and you don't even have to try- though it's obvious you have. It's reassuring. You want to impress me which means Dee couldn't have told you much.
"I'll be right over, I was just gonna grab another beer," I point to the abomination Dee gave you, "You want something else?"
You blush and look over your shoulder to make sure Dee isn't paying attention before leaning in, "A beer would be great," you whisper. God, you're so sweet, so careful about my sister's feelings. I nod and give you a little wink and when you brush past me to join Mac at the pool table I'm hit with a wave of your perfume and it's just as intoxicating as the first time.
"What did you tell her?" my face is inches from her ear, causing Dee to jump and drop her phone onto the bar.
She rolls her eyes and huffs, "Nothing, weirdo. Your stupid little secret is safe with me... for now."
Great. She wants to keep me nervous, like she's got me wrapped around her finger, but she never will. That information is all I need from her. I grab the beers and head back to the pool table, ignoring her glare. There you're bent over the felt, taking notes from Mac who thinks he's giving you good advice.
"Now when you go to hit the ball, if you put your hips into it, it's like an extra boost of power," he's saying as I step up behind you.
"I don't think that's right, Mac," you reply.
"Well then how do you do it?" he challenges. I cant stop staring at your ass.
You line up your shot and strike the cue ball. It hits a stripe that ricochets off the side of the table before missing the pocket by a fraction of an inch. "Fuck," you mutter.
"See? You needed that extra push!" Mac thrusts his hips as he tries to prove his point.
"Mac, you look and sound ridiculous," I finally weigh in, setting our beers on a nearby table. "Here," I prop my stick up against the table and pick up the cue ball, placing it in its original position. "Try again," I say, and you obey. You bend back over the table and aim your stick at a different stripe ball. Such a good girl. My fingers slowly press into your hips, tilting them forward as the heel of my hand presses gently into the small of your back. I nudge your feet apart so that you're standing square. I have to step back or you'll feel how hard I'm getting. You take another shot, and the stripe falls into the pocket with a satisfying crack.
"Whatever," Mac stomps over to the bar, leaving the two of us to start our game.
I give an approving nod that I know goes straight to your panties, "That was pretty good." You lean back against the table and cross your arms over your chest, which squishes your breasts together, and you wore something low cut like a little slut. I want to take you out back and pick up where we left off, "Why don't we make this a little more interesting?" You raise an eyebrow, "How about loser goes home with the winner?"
"Hm," you match my grin, your eyes dancing, "Fine. Deal." And I'm back on. You want me, and any doubt or fear I'd held onto despite the Valium and the alcohol vanishes instantly. I begin to gather the balls for the break.
"Just out of curiosity, what do you think my chances are here?"
Without looking up, I chuckle and reply, "Slim to none." I then lift up the rack and gesture, "After you."
Ten minutes later, you lose. Of course.
"Good game," I round the table to lean next to you. You're so close I can feel the heat of your body against me and if it weren't for my friends and the accusations this afternoon, I'd kiss you. "So, did you wanna leave now, or...?" You laugh.
"I thought you were buying drinks tonight?" you challenge. It's only 10:00- the night is still young and you want a hunt. I'm more than happy to give it to you.
"Fine," the words leave my mouth faster than I can catch them, "I suppose if you're willing to release your inhibitions, I'm not going to argue." That was a bizarre thing to say. I'm still off my game, unable to reel it in because every time I look at you I think about the way you made me feel that night. To my surprise, you just giggle.
"If you slip me something, I'll pretend I didn't see," you shouldn't joke about that- I just might.
"Hey you guys wanna do some shots?" Frank shouts across the bar.
"Looks like you're up, bartender," you bat your eyelashes at me before walking over to the bar to join the rest of the gang, hips swaying, making my mouth water.
As the evening wears on, one by one they drop like flies. Charlie is the first to go- passed out in the men's restroom, an open can of paint at his side. Next is Frank, of course, sprawled over Charlie's lap and snoring like a chainsaw. Dee and Mac last until around 2AM, but after Dee throws up into the ice machine, it takes every ounce of composer for me not to lose my mind on her. You might find that unattractive. Instead I suggest she goes home, heavily implying that it's not a suggestion at all. Mac is the last to go, but he doesn't leave without asking if I need help closing about a million times and throwing you an odd look. When the door shuts and the two of us are finally alone, you lean over the bar, and I can feel your eyes on me as I wipe down the counter with an old bar towel.
"So, Dee seems to think there's an expiration date on our... whatever you wanna call this." That dumb bitch. I bet she told you all about my penchant for fleeting affairs. I bet she told you I'm a womanizer or a misogynist or just a fucking asshole. I bet she told you you were too good for me, and maybe she's right, but fuck her.
"Dee doesn't think- if she did that would imply that she has a brain," that was too mean. I can tell because you don't respond right away and I'm afraid that maybe you think I'm annoyed at you and not my idiot sister.
"If there is, that's fine," you continue carefully, "I would just like to be in the know."
"My sister believes I'm incapable of having any kind of genuine feelings toward someone I'm sleeping with," I have a feeling you'd appreciate honesty over any lie I could conjure up, even if it's a good one. You're clever. Sometimes I feel like you can see right through me and it scares the shit out of me.
You pause. "Is she right?"
"No," I've never been so sincere with a woman and it's making my palms sweat. You hold back a grin and I feel exposed, my stomach clenches, and I have to take the wheel or I'm going to start getting all nervous. I bite down on the inside of my cheek. "Alright," I pick up my jacket from behind the bar and pull my keys out of the pocket, "You wanna get out of here?"
"Absolutely."
You wait on the sidewalk as I turn off the 'Open' sign and lock the doors. Tossing the jacket into the back seat of my Range Rover, I round to your side and open the passenger door for you. As you step up to slide into the car, you lean up and kiss my cheek and I feel my entire body go numb.
"What a gentleman," you grin and bite your lip and I want to spank you but I don't because you just called me a gentleman.
We share a cigarette on the way to the apartment despite my rule against it in the car- I can't help myself, I need to taste your mouth. You tell me all about the week you had and I react as if I don't know- as if I haven't been following you around this entire time. As I slowly pull up to the building, I look up at my window where I catch a glimpse of Mac as he flips on the kitchen light and walks past. Shit. As I park the car, I figure the best I can do is bring you upstairs and hope Mac sees it as an easy fallback- if I could get Dee's friend once, might as well get her again while she's around, right? That cover story would have to do.
You follow me into the building and up the stairs, pausing at the door as I sort through the keys. Just as I touch the key to the lock, the door jerks open.
"Oh thank God- I heard you coming down the hallway- hey can you help me-" Mac is breathless as he speaks, but when his eyes fall on you he abruptly stops. "Uh, hey." He smiles at you to mask his confusion.
"Long time, no see," you joke and he lets out a short laugh before glancing at me. I glare back at him, challenging him to choose his words carefully.
"Yeah... So what are you guys up to tonight?" Wrong. I clench my jaw. What do you think?
"We were just going to go watch a movie," I squint at Mac, hoping he'll get the hint to shut up and go away.
"Oh, cool, well... have fun," Mac looks for approval, but I deny him the satisfaction, brushing past him and pulling you along until we're both in my bedroom behind a locked door. The reality of having you alone in here is indescribable. It's all nerves and appetite in the dim blue light. It all feels so good in the dark.
I'm willing to behave, but as I move towards the television, your body collides into mine, your lips on my neck, teeth grazing my skin. I already like this game more than any other we've played.
"Are you gonna fuck me tonight, daddy?" your voice in my ear sends chills down my arms. Your generation is so needy, and I knew you were dangerous when you let me come close to choking you in the alley that night, but I've been looking through your laptop when you leave it at home, your phone when you were sleeping the night I claimed you. I've seen your search history, the things you watch at 3AM when you're lonely in bed and undoubtedly thinking of me. You're depraved.
"Oh yeah, kitten," my fingers weave through the hair at the base of your skull. I tug hard and you gasp, chin tilted upward, throat exposed. You shiver when I run my tongue from your collarbone to the curve of your jaw. I nip your earlobe before pushing you away roughly.
You stumble back and bite your lip, waiting for a command. It's been two weeks since we met, and one intimate encounter and you're already so eager to obey. God, you're perfect. "Take your clothes off," our eyes are locked, and I don't let you look away. It's almost sacrilegious that you're still fully clothed- here in my room, you belong naked. Always. You pull your shirt over your head and reach behind for your bra. "No," my voice stops you on a dime, "Slower," I demand as I step back and sit down on the edge of my bed.
From here, I watch the way your breath hitches when the cups of your bra brush your nipples as it slides down your arms and falls to the floor, the way you rub your thighs together before pushing your jeans to your ankles, the way you look at me- standing there, in just your underwear, exposed- like a fawn in the soft glow of the city night that filters through the window.
"Come here," you look like you want to jump into my lap, but you're being so disciplined with me. And why wouldn't you be? I'm your elder, I command respect, and it's my job to teach you manners. You slowly walk over and straddle my hips before planting yourself on my thighs, your hands pressed against my chest.
I wonder if you can feel my entire body buzzing beneath you. You've been waiting for this, too. I can tell. You're absolutely ravenous with it. Usually I would find this kind of behavior to be slightly endearing if not pathetic, but I want you so bad it's only driving me further down the rabbit hole. You're allowing me to control you and it's like it's the only thing I've ever truly wanted. I wonder how far you'll let me go. Not tonight. I want you to trust me- I /need/ you to trust me. So for now I'll play nice. If you want daddy to fuck you, then I will. I'll make you think I love you, princess.
I slip a hand between us and press my index and middle finger to your clothed cunt. It's already soaked through the fabric. I watch your pupils blow out as I push your panties aside and touch you, dipping both fingers into your soft, wet folds and sliding them up to meet your clit. You let out a soft mewl and I have to remind myself to breathe. Usually it's all about me, and why wouldn't it be? I'm the man after all. But I need you to know how good I can make you feel so that it hurts even more when I teach you what pain really is. I'm going to make you cum over and over again in every way I can possibly think of, and then, I'm going to deprive you. I can't wait to watch the light slip out of your eyes when you realize the fun is over, that you're mine, that your only purpose is to please me.
I can't help myself- without warning, I plunge my fingers into your tight little hole. You rise, yelp, jerk away at the sudden intrusion, but I'm much stronger than you, and an arm around your waist holds you in place.
"Shh," I swirl my fingers inside of you and you cringe, but this time, you stay seated like a good girl. You like it when I hurt you. I reward you with patience- pumping my fingers in and out of you slowly, gently spreading them as I go, stretching you out. You moan and slump into me, your face to my neck, planting lazy kisses as I work on your pussy. I feel like I'm going to black out. My clothes are suffocating. When I pull my hand away from your heat, you whine. I wrap both arms around you and flip you onto your back so that I'm on top of you, my knees between your legs, arms on either side of your rib cage. I sit up for a moment to remove my shirt, unbuckle my pants. You bite your lip and I reach down and run my thumb along your jaw. You lean in to my touch and when I get to your chin I gently pull your bottom lip from between your teeth. And then the pad of my thumb is pressing down on your tongue.
"You look so pretty," and you do- looking up at me through your eyelashes, sucking on my thumb, body nearly naked beneath me. Nearly. I pull my hand away from your face and nudge your hips. You lift them and I slide your panties down enough for you to relax back into the mattress. As I begin to work the thin fabric down your legs, something comes over me, and I back down off the bed and kneel on the floor. You sit up, watching me, eyes going wide when I grab your ankles and tug you closer. I haven't done this in a really long time. A really long time. I'm not nervous, but my heart is racing.
I pull you a little closer, and this time I'm more gentle. You inhale sharply when I drape your knees over my shoulders and the flutter of my breath hits your glistening cunt. When I look up at you, your eyes lock with mine, and I take the opportunity to slowly lower my head between your thighs. I watch your face as I press the flat of my tongue against your hole and drag it up. You taste so good, better than I'd imagined. Your fingers curl into my hair, and the dull burn in my scalp feels so good, I pull away a little just to feel your grip tighten as you whine and tug me back into you.
I hear you breathe my name as I relearn how to do this. I had been certain there wasn't a thing about sex that you could teach me, yet here we are. And I want to make you feel good. I want to be the best you've ever had. I need to be. So I take it slow, I pay attention to the way your body moves, the sounds you make, the pace of your breath, the rate of your pulse against my mouth.
I pull away for a moment for air, turn my face into your inner thigh and close my teeth around your soft flesh and you gasp and pull my hair so hard my head feels like it's on fire, so instead of letting go, I leave a dark purple hickey in the center of the indentation my teeth made on your skin. You moan and it rattles through me and I'm back to devouring you. I add a finger, then two, then three, and the sounds you're making are absolutely obscene and I think I'm getting you closer.
You squeeze down on my fingers and I swear to god I feel it on my dick. I groan into you and the vibration makes you flutter around me again and I touch myself with my free hand. I might actually cum from this. Your legs start to shake on my shoulders, and I focus on doing everything right as you whimper and moan and white knuckle my sheets.
"Dennis," your voice breaks through our syncopated panting and makes my dick twitch in my hand and if my eyes were open you would see them roll to the back of my head. The pressure is building- I feel your thighs tense against my ears, and I'm beginning to lose my pace on myself- it all feels so overwhelmingly good. I open my eyes to see your chest rising and falling quickly. Like a trapped rabbit. My teeth graze against your flesh and I nip at you lightly, shove my tongue inside of you, replace it with my fingers once again as I suck and bite at your clit. You let out one loud scream before remembering where you are, and sob as you teeter on the edge of climax.
"Daddy, c-can I-" you clench your jaw and knit your brow and it's so cute that you can't even use your words, and it's so cute that you call me daddy, and I'm about to cum, too, so all I can say is:
"Yeah, princess," and you're cumming around my fingers, against my open mouth as I spill out over the carpet and think vaguely about the stain. I thought you tasted good before, but now, I'm ravenous, and I love the way you tremble as I refuse to let up.
A few seconds later, you're cumming again, and if it wasn't for the alcohol and my medication, I would be ready for round two. Instead, I clean you up with my tongue and you scratch my head in sweet little circles as you come down. When your fingers find the space behind my ears my whole body tingles and it's like you've hit some sort of off switch. You giggle when I moan and close my eyes and rest my head against your thigh.
"I always catch you doing this," you take my earlobe between your thumb and forefinger and rub it a little, "What's up with that?" I hum at the familiar feeling coming from unfamiliar hands.
"I've been doing it since I was little," I mumble as you continue to make my brain short circuit, "I do it when I'm nervous," I'm not sure why I told you that part.
"You were doing it at the bar tonight," you comment, and despite the pleasure, my body tenses a little, "Do I make you nervous?"
When I open my eyes and look up at you, you're looking right through me, into my soul. I can't lie.
"Yes," and it makes me crazy. You smile.
"Good. That must mean you really like me."
I roll my eyes and sneak a quick nip to the inside of your thigh where my cheek was resting. You yelp and sit up to smack at me but I'm faster and I'm on top of you, pinning you by the wrists as you laugh. I hate how vulnerable you make me, all twisted up and trapped inside, and I feel like I need to contain you, but my hands on your wrists and my weight on top of you isn't enough. You have invaded every part of me, and it's too much.
"Well?" I can hear the smile in your voice even though my face is buried in your neck.
"Yeah, yeah," I feel like I'm in high school. You're younger than me and here I am blushing into the crook of your shoulder.
"Cool," your fingers slip through the hair at the base of my skull, "I like you, too." And even though I know that, the wave of relief that rolls over me makes me physically relax.
"Then you're staying," it's something between a question and a statement because the adrenaline is still making my head fuzzy. With my ear against your chest I can hear the methodical beat of your heart behind your sternum. I can't remember a time I was this intimate with someone. I want to get up, wash my face, grab you some of my clothes to wear, but my skin feels stuck to yours and your fingers in my hair is turning me off again. The air conditioner hums to life in my window and I feel the goosebumps pick up on your arms, your legs, the cool breeze ghosting over the thin sheen of sweat on your body. I sigh as I pick myself up off of you. I walk over to my dresser and tug open the top drawer, pulling out one of my Penn sweatshirts and toss it to you.
You bring the ball of fabric to your face, close your eyes and inhale. "You know this is mine, now," you say as you pull it over your head and hug yourself. I wish you weren't joking- I would love to see you in my sweatshirt every day for the rest of your life. I hope you wear it home tomorrow. I hope you don't go home at all. Next I throw you a pair of my boxers and when you stand and shimmy them up your legs, they hang so loosely off of your hips that I can almost see the v of your pelvis before you smooth the sweatshirt back down.
You hop back onto the bed and burrow under the covers, and I go to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. By the time I get back, you're sound asleep, your head on my pillow, filling my bed with the smell of your shampoo and body wash and lotion and perfume and you. I'm careful not to disturb you as I make my way into bed, as if you might leave if you wake up. When I wrap my arms around you and pull you into me, you murmur in your sleep and relax into my chest. I probably won't get much rest tonight, so I just enjoy the feeling of your warmth against me and the sound of your breathing as I think of how I'm going to explain this to my friends.
He used to have a bridge piercing, now closed up and only noticeable because he likes - genuinely loves - when you manhandle his face. Like he’s a giant Rottweiler in desensitization training. Drool catching in the webbed skin between your fingers. Nipping at the tips of your new gel manicure. (He asks if you’d paint his initials on your nails. You say no. He's not bothered. More… pleased. Like he was testing to see if he could push your boundaries, and is happy that he can't.)
He explains his past of being a punk youth, how a counselor got him to quit drugs and enlist. It's mildly infuriating.
"One fucked habit for another." Your muttering isn't lost; he's too present, the alley too narrow for that. He shrugs, like it’s no big deal that he’s still kicking, all ten fingers and toes, seemingly well-adjusted - or at the very least, self-aware.
You thumb the space between his eyes. Feel the thickness of healed skin. "I think you should put it back in."
"Get it re-pierced?" He nudges into your hand, encouraging you after you stop.
"Yeah, why not?"
"Coz I’m fucking forty with a wife."
"Your wife is single," you remind him, like it’s a direct correction.
"Mm." A palm skates across your belly. "Is she pregnant too?"
Your hand stills. Heart stops. Mouth opening - "How - who told you that?"
He mirrors you. Shocked, in his own way. "You’re-?"
You shove him hard. "Fuck no, you fuck! God, you scared the hell out of me."
He settles back in far too easily, in your opinion. Purring, essentially.
"Soon."
"No chance."
"Never, then." His acceptance with your choice. It eases you. No more defense.
"… Maybe not that, either."
His head tilts, chin up. "Yeah?"
You shrug instead of answering. You think you'd do anything for him.
"had to get it in, couldn't wait around!" - s.r. x reader
ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ who is it? simon "ghost" riley x you
ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ what is it? enemies always fuck better, right? you hate him, or so you thought...
ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ cws: unprotected p in v, angry simon turned soft, huge d!ck, knife play kinda? ass play, heavy make out. word count: 2.4k
<3
"what the fuck was that about?"
you stomped into an empty, abandoned conference room and stood at the end of a long table, with one masked man sitting at the other end. your arms crossed themselves across your chest, and you popped a hip out to the side as you waited for his answer.
simon motherfucking riley was your arch nemesis. someone you didn't trust, never agreed with, and certainly never wanted to work with. but the world isn't fair. it keeps spinning even when you despise someone, and captain price couldn't care less about your feelings towards simon when it came to the thousands of lives you were saving every mission.
usually, if you're in a group, you don't dare speak to simon this way. you only nod your head at his commands and walk away, hoping that he's receiving the millions of telepathic "fuck you's" you put out somewhere into the universe. but now, you're alone, and there is no better time than the present to tell your lieutenant off.
"if you need to blow some steam, i suggest going for a few boxing rounds w' soap. he's always looking for-" he paused whatever ministrations he was writing on a file and looked up at you slowly, "an easy opponent."
you huff and smirk out of pure anger as you briskly round the table, making your way over to him. "I'm not here to fucking play around, lieutenant, I'm here to let you know I'm pissed because you gave everybody else an assignment overseas next month except for me." you paused and let his eyes meet yours as your strong volume turned into a whisper. "I've worked just as hard, if not fucking harder than the rest of these task force fuckers, and we both know I'd be a good shot out there."
when it comes to you giving your superior a piece of your mind, simon usually submits completely. he never fires back, to everyone else's surprise, and he always allows you to use him, so to speak, to yell at him and get everything out of your system before entering the world again.
but not today.
simon slowly stood up from his chair, keeping eye contact with you as he expanded to almost double your size in every factor possible.
the seconds felt like years as his eyes bore down into yours. your heart rate was doubling every time one of you blinked, and you had to tense every single muscle in your body just to remain stagnant in position. the silence was deafening, and as the seconds passed, you remembered everything you've seen this man do, every corpse he's thrown to the side like a piece of garbage in his way, every knife rusted and wasted because it's been buried deep in the jaw of his enemies, and the eyes that have seen all of this from the first person perspective, are staring right into your-
SLAM.
simons hand comes down onto the wooden table with the force of 10 men, it sounds like, and you couldn't do anything but jump. you flinch. you fucking flinch and it feels like you're waving a white flag.
His gloved fingers reach out to your chin and tug you by the jaw, forcing your face inches away from his, "I have fuckin' had it with your attitude. you can act like a bitch all you fucking want to price, to gaz, and I sure as fuck don't care about how you treat soap. but to me," he squeezes your chin to reinstate your obedience before drifting his hand to rest on your neck, "to me, you either respect me or don't say shit at all. so get used to swallowing your words around here from now on, cause there won't be anywhere else for them to fucking go but down your own throat."
coincidentally, you do swallow. hard and slow, and simons eyes watch and feel your neck bobbing as you begin to shake just slightly under his pressure. as he squeezes, a small squeak releases itself from your lips and you mentally kick yourself for it, knowing that's just what he wants. because once you let yourself go to the stormy waters that is simon riley, you'll never be the same again. he'll make sure of it.
"you say yes sir." his low voice whispered into the empty room, your face somewhere even closer than before, every minute that passes you move an inch. you still can't open your mouth, you're suffering from shell shock and there's no mercy to be found in the eyes of your shooter.
simon pulls out a blade from his thigh holster and presses it to your side, "say. it. now." he yells even louder. you feel the sharp sting of the metal start to break through the cotton of your shirt and tease your skin. a tear breaks free from your eyes, and you are completely gone. you're done for. absolutely dead in every sense but the physical.
"yes sir." you whisper, finally freeing yourself from some kind of paralysis. you feel the blade crash onto the table, as well as the sweet release of your neck from his hand. an extra wave of oxygen that you didn't know you were missing flowed though you in small gasps.
simon said nothing as he walked straight past you, out of the door, slamming it behind him. he left you, his knife, and a part of your soul, there in that room.
ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚
it had been a few days since simon had blown any ounce of relationship between the two of you into ash and dust, and you can't tell if the looks simon gives you now are filled with rage or just empty. empty meanings, empty promises, because he just doesn't care. but ever since he's made it clear with you that he is not to be messed with, you've unfortunately want him more.
simon riley is a fucking apex predator, and in the past, you've just been standing there, petting him, taunting him, and expecting nothing to happen. well now, you not only expect it, you fucking want it. you dream about all the things he could do to you. but all the things he hasn't said just prove that he couldn't care less.
that night, the only news channel your small tv offers called for rain, a lot of it, mixed with thunderstorms and lightning. as you dry your hair off with a towel, you walk to your window and look outside. your stomach churns at the sight of the angry clouds heading your way. you absolutely despise thunderstorms, and you prefer for a long night because there is no way you would be getting any sleep.
"fuck." you whisper to yourself as it starts to drizzle.
you try to ignore it as you kick off your slippers and get under your soft covers, pulling your duvet all the way up to your ears to try to mute the sound. it was now raining harder, and occasional sparks of electricity lit up your room from the sky, so you tossed and turn all night until you finally fell asleep.
it wasn't until hours later that a large boom of thunder shook you awake. you sat up immediately in a panic, gasping for air and looking around you as if you were expecting anything, something to explain the sound. tears started rolling down your face not only in fear, but in frustration also. you were so upset and so tired. you needed something, someone. just to tell you it was going to be okay. you slipped out of bed with a shaky hand clutching a necklace around your neck as you opened the door of your room and walked out.
the cold air of the hallway caused your skin to raise up into goosebumps and your nipples to pebble through your thin tank top, and even as you crossed your arms over yourself, it wasn't enough.
you headed straight for a door right down the hall. one with a name on the wood that you never thought you would go to in need in a million years. but you didn't know what to do.
your small knuckles rapped on the door, right underneath a nameplate.
simon "ghost" riley
you hear heavy footsteps and several locks unfastening before the door swings open.
a maskless man appears, with no shirt, and a large hand rubbing the side of his face. he was no doubt asleep before this. his eyes squinted as he leaned against the doorframe, trying to adjust to the light. your jaw hung slightly agape at the sight of him, so human. so disgustingly human who's done such non-humane things.
his eyes swept over your face as he noticed the tear stained cheeks, reddened from lack of sleep and continued down your body, down your full teardrop breasts, across your bare stomach, your sweatpants that hung loosely off your hips, and no words were spoken as he grabbed you by both forearms and drug you inside his room.
you gasped as he moved you backwards towards his bed, his much larger and comfier bed, and you no longer had any reason to stop him as he drug you under the covers with him. you couldn't believe him as he snuck in close to you, silently, as if it were normal.
it wasn’t until you felt an arm come up to rest upon your hip, and the floodgates opened. you couldn’t stop tears from rolling down your eyes. you were so confused, so scared, so fucking tired. small whimpers and gasps of breath continued.
“shhh.” came from simon’s mouth as he pulled you closer and softly squeezed your hip.
“you hate me” you whispered back, sobbing louder.
“hm-mm, no.”
“yes, you fucking hate me and you’ve just pulled me into your bed,” you start whining louder as your hands reach up to cover your face.
simon’s eyes slowly opened to look into yours before swatting your ass ,”quit crying n' go to sleep.”
you only responded with smaller, shorter intakes of breath and sniffles.
“y’hear me?” he patted your ass where he had slapped it before.
you nodded and whispered, “yes sir.”
a growl tore threw simon’s mouth as he looked up at the bedroom ceiling before throwing his forearm over his eyes, “fuckin’ hell.”
this time it’s you who reaches out, as you place a small palm on his bicep. he flinches at the touch before sighing,
“c’mere puppy.”
you slowly crawl on top of simon, placing both hands on his arms before allowing your head to fall between his neck and shoulder. a warmth slithered through you as you relaxed into him, and as his hand slowly caressed and squeezed the fat of your ass, the warmth exceeded just below your navel.
you made the mistake of squirming, and he noticed.
he clicked his tongue against his teeth while pulling you closer, “stay still.”
“i-i’m trying to get comfortable-"
"well stop." he interrupted, "just relax."
the wind outside howled, as simon's breath and yours intertwined through the space between you. and just like the storms outside, simon was the most unexpected thing to ever exist. he was trying hard to not scare you off, to be gentle, even though every thing in him contradicts that. but you know better. you know that he is gentle somewhere behind that mask.
you squirmed again, "simon I just don't know what to do." you leaned up to look at him. and there it was, the look that he only gave you, the small and desperate iris' just begging for some kind of affection. even without much light, you could still see him grasping at the frays for you. seconds of intense eye contact went by for simon broke the silence,
"just kiss m'then."
you gasped, sitting back a centimeter, but then nodded. and leaned into his touch. into him.
the kiss was soft and delicate, your lips and his just barely overlapping as you took in his woodsy smell, pine and maple, but that was all it took to pull a groan from simon.
more, more, is all he thought as he grabbed you by the hips and prodded his tongue against your lips. you smiled at the action, and without hesitation, opened up for him completely.
it was nothing but violent, raw, and urgent, the way simon kissed you. you moaned into his mouth as he smacked the fat of your ass, "all it took," he mumbled, "all it took was a little tongue for you to shut the fuck up."
you whined at the loss of contact as simon struggled to pull your pants down, but it disintegrated as he swiped a finger between your thighs, "fuck." simon whispered at the wetness pooling from your sex. "how many times have I yelled at you and gotten you wet?" he said, as he flipped you both around so you were now in your back, head smushing the soft pillow.
you groaned as he discarded his sweatpants and boxers, leaving his cock to spring out against his stomach. "how many times, baby?" he asked again, "you think about me hurting you when you play with this pretty pussy?" his index reached out to circle your clit a few times.
you couldn't help it, your body was betraying you in real time as your walls fluttered around nothing. "yes, yes I think about it, I think about you all the time simon." your babbles spilled out of you like water, and simon was lapping it up.
he chuckled, "don't even n'to prep you, you're a fuckin' faucet, sweetheart." his lengthy cock, with precut oozing out of the tip, was begging to be inside you, begging to fill you up. as he grabbed his length and positioned himself to your weeping hole, he looked you in the eyes, "y'want this?"
your eyes met his and for a second, you felt some sort of fire igniting deep within you, why was he even asking? why did it feel like the monster he is was softening for you?
you grabbed his hip and thrusted yourself, notching the tip of him inside your walls. "yes, I fucking want this, simon."
he chuckled as he watched him disappear inside you, inch by inch, every fucking centimeter felt like a year lived without you. he needed to make up for it, because the one woman that he couldn't stand just happened to be the woman he couldn't live without.
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