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skylin-files · 1 month ago

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girl code ⋆ na jaemin

pov: your best friend's former situationship started hitting you up. what could go wrong?

pairing: college student!jaemin x college student! yn

featuring! winter of aespa, nct members

note: this is part two. i initially planned for this to be a two-part story, but i decided to divide it into three parts.

i hope you like it; your comments will be highly appreciated. ♡

check part one here: part 1 | part 3 (final)

── .✦

You couldn’t help but be impressed by how focused Jaemin was during class. His attention to detail was striking, and when you glanced over at his notes, you felt a little embarrassed comparing them to your own messier ones. You’d thought you’d only see him during lab sessions, but after recent events, it seemed like you were running into him everywhere on campus.

“All these years in college, and why am I only seeing you now?” you asked once, half-joking, only to be met with a casual shrug and his teasing response about how maybe you weren’t meant to cross paths before. You brushed it off with a laugh, unaware of the sincerity hidden in his words—or that the boy you were getting to know had once been one of your best friend's situationships.

Looking back, it was strange that you and Na Jaemin had never met, especially considering his past situationship with Winter, your best friend, back when she was in her “situationship” phase with him. Then again, Winter never introduced her situationships or talking stages to you—she’d share stories about them but never revealed exactly who they were.

Speaking of Winter, you found yourself reunited once again, this time hanging out at a newly opened café near your university. You couldn’t help but notice, though only briefly, how she seemed to gravitate back to the area, just like that time she showed up at a bar nearby.

“Remember the situationship I told you about?” she asked suddenly, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Which one?” you replied sincerely, given the sheer number of past situationships she’d mentioned over the years.

“The one I said looks so good—like he’s God’s favorite child,” Winter clarified with a grin. You nodded as the memory resurfaced, unaware that she was, in fact, talking about Na Jaemin—your lab partner.

“Well, he’s actually from your university,” she confessed with a sheepish smile, leaving you to process her words.

“He’s actually the reason I went to that local club near your campus,” she added.

“The club near our university? The night you texted me to pick you up?” you clarified, watching her nod in confirmation.

“What’s the deal, though? He’s a past situationship. Why were you at the club because of him?” you asked, thoroughly puzzled.

“Well, I knew he was going to be there,” Winter admitted.

“We haven’t talked for months now, but I knew he’d be at the club because his best friend is a social media guy—always posting updates about his whereabouts. They’re like a duo, always together,” she explained. You nodded, still a bit confused.

“Okay, but why go there because of him?” you asked.

“Well, after seeing his latest post, I kind of started missing him, you know,” she confessed.

You snorted, immediately catching on to where this was heading. “So, you’re planning to start another situationship stage with him?” you teased, earning a sheepish smile from Winter.

“I’m not sure... maybe if we’re on the same page,” she replied.

You shook your head playfully. “Seriously, you and your situationships. Why not just date the guy?” you suggested, fully focused on her until your phone buzzed with a new text message.

Na Jaemin: "Hey, are you free this Friday afternoon?"

Na Jaemin: "I was wondering if we could start with our lab report."

You smiled at the text, yet another reminder of how responsible a student he was. You quickly sent back a short confirmation for Friday before turning your attention back to Winter.

“So, I’m planning to go to this party on Friday. I heard his best friend, Jeno, is going, so I’m sure he’ll be there too,” Winter said, casually name-dropping the best friend of her situationship.

The name, Jeno, sounded familiar—like you’d heard it somewhere before—but you brushed off the thought and let it pass.

"Well, drink responsibly because I won’t be available to pick you up on Friday. My lab partner and I are working on a report," you said.

"Academics on a Friday night?" Winter grimaced, earning a casual shrug from you.

"It’s better to get things done sooner rather than later," you replied, pausing for a moment. "And... hey, my lab partner, he’s kind of cute," you added, almost unsure if you should’ve said it.

Winter’s eyes widened in shock. "Did my man-hater best friend just call a boy cute?" she squealed.

"I’m not a man-hater!" you protested.

"Okay, Ms. ‘Boys would do me no good and only be a distraction,’" she teased.

"I just said he’s cute," you defended, shaking your head.

Oh, how small the world was—two best friends having two entirely different conversations, neither realizing they were both talking about the same boy.

── .✦

It had been a productive Friday night with Jaemin, the two of you managing to finish almost half of your lab report. Deciding to grab a bite, you headed to a nearby diner Jaemin had recommended. On the way, you passed by a group of teenagers dressed as if they were heading to a club.

“I hate clubs,” Jaemin commented casually, prompting you to raise a brow.

“But you were at a club on a school night when I picked up Winter,” you replied, not noticing the slight wince Jaemin made at the mention of your best friend’s name.

“My best friend likes partying. That boy used to be such a homebody, but the college scene changed him. It’s not a big deal, though—he’s enjoying himself, and that’s his life,” Jaemin shared, earning a nod from you.

“So, you go to parties just to accompany him?” you asked, and Jaemin nodded in response.

“He’s actually going to a party tonight. Good thing I’m occupied,” Jaemin said with a playful wink, earning a playful eye roll from you.

Suddenly, Winter came to mind. “Winter—she’s going to a party tonight too,” you said, and Jaemin fell silent, seemingly waiting for you to say more.

You didn’t intend to overshare, but the conversation with Jaemin flowed so easily that your words just came out.

“She went to the party to see her past situationship. She wants to get back with him. Honestly, I’m starting to genuinely worry about her choices in the dating scene,” you said.

Jaemin suddenly had a feeling you were talking about him, but he hesitated. He knew Winter was the type of girl who had a lot of different situationships, which made him second-guess his assumption.

“He’s actually from our university,” you added, confirming Jaemin’s suspicions.

“Did she consider if the guy wanted to get back with her too?” Jaemin asked, earning a hum of acknowledgment from you.

“I’m not sure. I don’t know who the guy is or why their situationship ended,” you replied.

There was a brief silence, as Jaemin debated whether to share what was on his mind. Finally, he spoke.

“Well, I used to have a situationship too,” Jaemin said.

You weren’t expecting him to open about his own dating life, but you listened attentively. It wasn’t entirely surprising—he was, after all, a handsome guy.

“That was my first and last, though. I don’t want to go through it again. It’s useless. A waste of time. It doesn’t do you any good,” he continued, causing you to grin. Finally, someone who agreed with you.

“Right? How could people act like they’re more than friends but less than lovers, or even do couple things just to call it casual?” you said. Jaemin couldn’t help but smile at your firm stance.

“I didn’t expect it to end like that, you know? The moment I wanted to take things seriously, the moment I wanted to court the girl properly, she cut me off,” Jaemin admitted.

You felt sympathy for him.

“One of the worst decisions ever. I didn’t know what to do back then,” he added.

“That’s okay, at least now you know that situationships aren’t for you,” you said, earning a nod from Jaemin.

“And besides, this is probably your first time being an adult, so you won’t always know what to do,” you added, your words offering comfort. Jaemin felt that not going to another party with Jeno tonight was the best decision he’d made in a while.

── .✦

It was another day on campus during lunch break. You were sitting with Mark and Haechan at the cafeteria, scrolling through your social media when you came across photos from Winter’s party last Friday night. Your best friend looked stunning, a natural beauty, and you smiled as you admired her, noticing how happy she appeared in the pictures.

"I wonder if she ran into her situationship," you muttered to yourself.

Suddenly, Haechan cleared his throat, a little louder than usual, causing you to give him a puzzled look. He pointed toward a specific direction, and as you followed his gaze, you spotted Jaemin walking toward your table.

"Hey," he said, flashing you a charming grin.

"Hey," you responded, meeting his gaze.

His smile widened, and Mark, who was seated at the table with you, looked slightly confused, wondering who the boy was. Meanwhile, Haechan wasn’t being very subtle, eyeing both of you closely.

"I was wondering if you're free this Friday?" Jaemin asked.

Mark nearly choked on his noodles upon hearing the question, while Haechan was equally surprised, considering you usually didn’t prioritize dating.

"Why? Are we going to continue the project?" you asked, only to see Mark and Haechan slump in disappointment, thinking it was just about the project. However, they quickly perked up again when Jaemin spoke.

"No, actually, there’s this art exhibit I wanted to go to. I’m not sure if you’re into that, but..." Jaemin paused, pulling out two tickets from his wallet. "I have two tickets," he said, hoping you wouldn’t turn him down.

You were taken aback. You’d spent a fair amount of time with Jaemin around campus, but outside of that? Not much. Haechan and Mark were exchanging eager nudges under the table, clearly anticipating your response.

"Friday night, huh?" you said, looking at Jaemin.

He hummed in response.

"Is this just another one of your tricks to avoid going with your best friend to a party?" you joked, earning a laugh from Jaemin. Even his laugh was charming.

"Maybe," he said with a playful grin. "But I think this invitation is more of a 'I want to spend time with you, no academic work involved.' So, will you go with me?"

You smiled back at him. "Sure, I’d love to, Jaemin."

── .✦

You were going out with Jaemin, but was it really a date, or just a casual hangout to check out an art exhibit? You weren’t sure, but it felt different from the usual hangouts you had with him, Haechan, or Mark.

It was your first time going out with a boy, and despite the diner trip you had with him the previous night, this felt new. To be honest, you didn’t know how to feel—excited, nervous, unsure. You found yourself questioning whether it was the right thing to do.

"One hangout won’t distract you from your academics. Ms. ‘Boys won’t do me good’," Winter teased over the phone.

"Sorry, I’m not used to going out with boys like you," you muttered, making Winter wince on the other end.

"Good gracious, relax, my love! There’s nothing to worry about! Just be yourself, have fun, it’s your first date since... well, forever!" she exclaimed.

"But of course, when I say, ‘be yourself,’ dressing in a hoodie and pants is not what I mean.," Winter added, making you groan.

"You better send me the outfit before the date! I need to approve," she laughed, clearly excited for you.

From her voice, you could tell she was genuinely happy for you. Little did she know, this was just the beginning, and things were about to change in ways she never expected.

── .✦

You were incredibly nervous while waiting for Jaemin to pick you up. You had suggested meeting him at the art exhibit, but he insisted on picking you up. Your hands were sweating, but when Jaemin finally arrived at your doorstep with a smile on his face, all of your anxiety seemed to vanish. His presence had a calming effect on you.

The ride to the exhibit was short, and once you arrived, you were in awe of the incredible pieces on display. Jaemin noticed the excitement in your eyes and felt relieved that you were genuinely enjoying the experience, just like he did.

Jaemin had his camera with him, a hobby he had mentioned before. To your surprise, he was actually a talented photographer. He offered to take your photo next to one of the paintings. You were shy at first, but his encouraging smile made you feel at ease, and you posed for the picture.

When you saw the photo, you were pleasantly surprised—it turned out great, and you looked good. You weren’t as photogenic as Winter, but Jaemin’s photo made you feel like you could be.

“I look good,” you said, grinning like a child. Jaemin nodded, smiling back at you.

Just then, a random stranger, an older woman, commented, “They say the way someone photographs you says a lot about how they feel about you.” Both you and Jaemin turned to look at her, caught off guard by her remark.

The woman chuckled at your surprised expressions and asked, “I’m not a professional photographer, but would you like me to take a photo of both of you?”

You and Jaemin exchanged a smile and replied, “Yes, please.”

── .✦

It was a dull Friday night for Winter. She decided to stay in and take a break from the party scene for just one night. While strolling through her social media, she came across a post from Jeno, Jaemin’s best friend. He was at another party.

"I wonder if Jaemin's with him this time," she muttered, remembering how she had met Jeno at the party last Friday but Jaemin was nowhere to be found. With a sigh, Winter decided to check Jaemin’s social media. He wasn’t the most active online, but to her surprise, Jaemin had posted something just a few minutes ago.

The post read: "The way someone photographs you reveals a lot about how they feel about you."

The post was accompanied by photos from an art exhibit. Winter lazily scrolled through the pictures, not paying much attention to the artwork, until she reached the last one.

It was a photo of Jaemin with you, her best friend.

A chill ran through her as she pieced everything together, suddenly realizing that her situationship and your lab partner involved the same person all along—Na Jaemin.

── .✦

"What does it mean when a guy doesn't post me on his social media, but then posts the next girl he's seeing after just one date?" Winter asked out of the blue.

You two were once again at the café near your university, but this time, Haechan had joined you.

Your eyebrows raised at her question, finding it odd and sensing something was off about her lately. "Maybe he wasn't that serious about you back then?" you suggested.

Winter's blood began to boil at your response. "And he's serious about the new girl just because he posted her?" she snapped, Haechan giving her a side-eye at the sharpness in her tone.

"Yeah? It's possible?" you said, confused by her irritated and dejected reaction.

"It was just a photo dump, apparently their picture just made the cut," Winter explained, though she knew deep down her statement wasn't entirely accurate, especially considering what she knew about Jaemin.

Haechan raised an eyebrow and decided to comment, "Why are you mad about it, though? Do you post any guy on your social media?" he asked, earning a small "no" from Winter.

"And you expect them, or this person, to post you?" Haechan remarked, feeling that the conversation was a bit immature.

Winter muttered softly, only for herself to hear, "The girl he posted never posted him either."

She glanced at you, her best friend, feeling guilty for her emotions. Why was she even upset? She and Jaemin were never a thing, and besides, she had cut him off when he wanted to take things seriously.

It was her own fault for letting someone like Jaemin go.

"By the way, how was your date?" Winter asked, trying her best to offer a sincere smile.

"I had fun," you replied almost immediately, while Haechan smirked, typing on his laptop.

"Oh, yes, she did. And it wasn’t just a friendly date, either. They were holding hands, for God’s sake," Haechan added.

Winter felt like she had been splashed with cold water upon hearing that. "We used to hold hands too," Winter muttered to herself.

"Wait," you said, catching both Winter and Haechan’s attention. "You said you both knew each other," you recalled, remembering the scene from the club. "Jaemin, Na Jaemin. You know him, right? How could I have missed this? He’s the guy I’ve been telling you about," you said, showing Winter a picture of you and Jaemin—the same one Jaemin had posted on his social media.

"Oh, yeah, we know each other," Winter said, clenching her hands under the table. "You guys really do look good together," she added.

"You mean it?" you asked, recalling the first time Winter mentioned that you and Jaemin looked good together, which was that night at the local club when she had been drunk.

"Yup," Winter replied, her face adorned with a fake smile.

Meanwhile, on campus, Mark was frantically processing the information he had just discovered. While strolling through social media, he came across a 2024 photo dump from Jeno, Jaemin’s best friend and Mark’s classmate. The post was a bit late, given that the new year had already passed.

As Mark continued scrolling, he found a group photo that made his eyes widen in shock. In the photo was Jaemin, the guy he knew you had recently gone on a date with, and right beside him was Winter, your best friend. But it wasn’t just any photo; Winter was leaning on Jaemin in a way that felt quite intimate. Mark immediately felt uneasy and forwarded the photo to Haechan.

When Haechan saw the photo, everything clicked. He instantly understood what was going on, piecing it all together. Staring at Winter intently, Haechan now knew exactly who she had been talking about, why she had been acting so strange, and the reason behind her fake smile.

── .✦

Later that day, you returned home with a smile on your face. Your lab report with Jaemin was complete, and you both had done well. After class, you decided to grab dessert, and Jaemin even drove you home.

As you walked in, you couldn’t help but start questioning what was going on between the two of you. Your usual "guys won’t do me any good" mantra was slowly fading away, and you found yourself worried this might end up like the situation with your best friend, Winter. But then you recalled the conversation you had with Jaemin about situationships, which gave you some reassurance that things wouldn’t go down that road.

Settling in at home, you started scrolling through your phone, laughing at memes on your timeline. But then you realized you hadn’t come across any of Winter’s posts.

"Is she not home yet?" you muttered to yourself.

It was unusual for Winter not to be active on social media since she was always posting. Without thinking, you checked her profile, a bad feeling settling in your stomach. When you opened her page, your heart dropped. You stared at her profile for a moment, then decided to call her.

"Hello?" she answered, her voice cold.

"Winter," you said, your voice tight.

"Yes? Do you need something? I have cheer practice soon," she replied, her tone distant.

"Winter, why did you soft block me on your social media?" you asked, a knot forming in your chest.

There was a long silence on the other end. "I'm sorry, but I have cheer in a bit. I can’t talk about this right now," she said before hanging up.

You were stunned. This wasn’t the Winter you knew. She never avoided a conversation, no matter how big or small the issue.

Your grip on your phone tightened, and then a notification popped up.

It was from Mark.

He had sent you a photo—a group photo, to be exact. But this wasn’t just any group picture. In it, Jaemin and Winter stood side by side, looking far too intimate for comfort.

── .✦

tags: @carelessshootanonymous @taliaamara @zgzgzh @tinyzen @urlocalbeaner5 @profoundruinsunknown

let me know if you want to be tagged in part three/the last part. 𓂃۶ৎ

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vxnuslogy · 6 months ago

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– to fall for the sun.

pairing: albedo x gn!reader

premise: albedo was not a poet, but for you, he could try to become one.

– warnings: fluff, yearner albedo, he sucks at poetry (he's trying his best), poor attempts in making poetry at the end

– author’s notes: this is a remake of my old albedo fic but instead of angst, its fluff so yippie!! art credits goes to @.Jotto75 on twitter. thank you to @lowkeyren for proofreading and creating the title <3 | ~1.4k words.

“mr. albedo, are you alright?” sucrose, his assistant, asked. worry etched in her eyes as she watches her mentor’s hunched figure throw away another crumpled piece of paper.

“yes, yes, i’m quite alright. please don’t mind me.”

but albedo was anything but alright. he pushed his messy hair back with his hand and let out a tired sigh. albedo had ultimately underestimated your talent in making poetry–he had always assumed you just wrote whatever you felt on paper–no need for fancy words or metaphors. yet here he was, on the third day in a row, filling the small trash bin in his office with poorly written declarations of love.

albedo wonders how you do it. you, a traveler from fontaine, coming to visit mondstadt to explore the nation’s ballads and poetry, had easily captured the hearts of many by just walking down the cobblestone paths that lead inside its walls. you with your charming presence, felt like a character from an inazuman fairytale, had even captured the bard in green. but more than that, you had captured his attention—maybe even his heart—by simply existing.

with one glance you had enamored his chalky heart. suddenly, the paint brushes that were in his hand itched to be used on a blank canvas to paint your portrait, wanting to forever remember the smile that glowed under the afternoon sun. albedo could’ve sworn he saw fresh cecilias beneath your feet with every step you took inside the city.

in one glance, you flashed him a knowing smile and gave him a bow.

venti played his lyre and before the chalk prince knew, he was tugged into a dance near the city’s fountain. everyone laughed and danced and sang, but all albedo could see was the way you sat by the bard, a quill in your hand and a piece of parchment on the other. you cleared your throat, capturing everyone’s attention and started reciting your magnum opus.

albedo didn’t quite understand most of its content–a real shame he thinks–but there was one line that made his mind tick in interest.

“why does icarus continue to fly despite his impending doom?”

he was not a poet by any means, he was a researcher, a slave to finding the truth, but he found the mystery behind your words worth uncovering.

so for the next few days you stayed in mondstadt, albedo had asked for your time to ask you questions. the two of you spent your time in dragonspine in his lab. he asked about your inspirations as you chatter about your love for words and asked him in return on why he paints. albedo concluded after your time together that you were simply born with poetry running through your veins and pumping metaphors and analogies to your beating heart. there was no sense of logic in your being–it wasn’t a bad thing, emotions seemed to transcend all logic to begin with–and he found that incredibly charming.

which leads to his predicament now: inside his office, trying to rack his brain on a verse that would evoke the same feeling you showed him when you first met.

he loved your poetic mind, the calluses from pens on your fingers, your ink-stained blouses and hands, the love letters hidden under the guise of friendly affections—he loved you. but he didn’t know how to showcase it. relationships were troublesome–hard to maintain. but he wanted to try. he didn’t fall in love easily–he didn’t even know he was capable of falling in love–but he felt his growing yearning for you deep in his chalk stained bones. for once in his life, albedo wanted his fixation and interest in you to last a lifetime, afraid of the lingering bittersweet sensation that you would leave him.

with one last sigh, he picked up his sketchbook and left his office. a change of pace would surely inspire him, he tried to convince himself, but not even a few steps later, he sees you by the entrance of the knight’s headquarters. and like the first time, you flashed him a smile with those eyes and his mind went blank. you tug at his hand–his heart–ever so gently, urging him to have a picnic with you under the afternoon sun.

“you seem to really love using icarus in your poems.” albedo randomly mentioned, taking a bite of the adventurer’s sandwich you bought. you only hum and continue to write in your journal. against his better judgment, albedo leaned into your space, trying to take a peek of your newest piece, but you quickly shut the journal and stuck your tongue at him.

“peeking is rather rude y’know?” you jest and his chuckle ringed out.

“pardon my rudeness,” he said. “i was simply curious.”

albedo was sure there was something swimming in his chest–fondness, most probably–as you flash him a knowing smile. you take out something from your bag, a crown made out of cecilias and windwheel asters, and place it on the crown of his head, leaving him with a quiet but undeniable joy that he couldn’t quite name.

“i see myself as icarus, that’s my answer.”

“how so?” he asked, mindlessly flipped through his sketchbook and felt a growing smile tug at his lips when he saw your handwriting in the corners of a few pages.

you don’t answer–you never do– but albedo never minded. he liked it whenever you left him guessing. for the rest of the afternoon, you both spend your time in each other’s presence as you eat your food. you talked about the new book lisa had given you to read in your spare time and he asked you what colors he should use on his next painting. “yellow because they remind me of you.” would always be your reply and he’d comply.

by the time he waved you goodbye and sat back down in his office, there was another letter pressed in his sketchbook. he could already feel his heart racing as he reached for it.

“to my dearest, albedo

you seem to really ponder over the last verse of my poem when i first arrived in mondstatd. i must say, i feel honored that i made your mind tick with curiosity. i found myself gravitating towards your presence more and more after you asked me if i could be the subject of your painting. that was the first time i’ve ever been the muse to someone’s creation. it sent my heart into a giddy fit you know. you are no poet, as i am no painter; i cannot paint the image i have of you on a canvas, but i can put my affections into words. after all, the verse ‘why does icarus continue to fly despite his impending doom.’ was always meant for you—to capture your attention.”

albedo sat down on his chair, a gloved covering half of his face to hide the pathetically infatuated smile on his face. he took out the second letter from the envelope, bracing his heart to whatever emotion you would stir inside him.

“like icarus, i found myself

flying straight into the pools of his eyes

with my wings made of wax,

i soared straight into his guarded heart

and let his burning affections scorch me and melt my wings.

then i fell—or so i thought

my body did not meet the ground harshly,

for he caught me,

in all the gentleness known to mankind,

he treated my scorched skin with care.

i was icarus and he is my sun,

with gold and glitter in all his glory.

icarus is a fool in love.

why does icarus continue to fly, despite his impending doom?

because the sun is icarus’s love.

in every lifetime, he will always choose to fall,

loving him despite it being too hot, too close.

icarus is a fool in love, for without the sun,

he would have no reason to live.

why would icarus fly if he had no sun to fly to?”

albedo’s eyes traced over the last line of your poem, his heart rattling with uncharacteristic tenderness and a gentle ache. your words had breathed life to the emotions he never knew he was capable of feeling.

he looked down on his sketchbook, then out the window to gaze at the setting sun. the warmth reminding him of your love for icarus—him. he was no poet, but for you, he could perhaps become one.

with careful hands like you described in your poem, he folded the parchment and placed it gently into his sketchbook, right beside the finished sketch of you under the afternoon sun, cecilias blooming right under your feet. a small smile tugged at his lips as he picked up his pencil.

for the first time in a long while, albedo finally understood what it meant to be inspired.

#—stellaronhvnters.#・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact albedo #albedo x reader #albedo x you #albedo genshin impact #albedo headcanons #albedo imagines #( 🂡 ) – royal flush of stories .ᐟ

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lacedinweb22 · 2 years ago

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new ride 🏍️༻ (Miguel O’Hara x reader)

🕸️ Entangled series 🕸️ ch. 3 prev part

author’s note: I had this hot vision of motorcycle Miguel last week then came across this artwork which completely cemented my idea. Check out the artist!!!! 💘🕸 ALSO this is a flashback chapter!!!

Summary: Your best friend/crush, Miguel, comes over to study with you. His arrival to your apartment surprises you, and gives you a new reason to procrastinate and get closer to him. CW: none

✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊

I looked down at our text conversation, pacing in my bedroom.

Miguel: I’m on my way from Alchemax :) give me 5

Me: Traffic is bad rn so drive safe :D I’ll be waiting in front Me: Also it’s so dark out so drive carefully. don’t text and drive

I threw my phone on my bed and finished getting ready and cleaning up my place. I headed out and stood in front of my apartment complex, nearing the sidewalk so he could park and I could help him with his books and our lab equipment, though I knew he would reject my help.

I stared down the street waiting for Miguel when headlights approached, blinding me, and spotlighting me in the darkness. The dark blue motorcycle pulled up in front of me, parking exactly where Miguel was supposed to park. I shyly backed up into the grass to avoid blocking their path. I took a deep breath, “Sir, I was… saving this spot for a friend,” I blurted, attempting to be assertive. He took his helmet off, revealing Miguel under. "Oh yeah?" he asked, smirking as he wiped sweat from his forehead. "Miguel," I muttered, confused.

His wavy brown hair was messy, damp with sweat, cascading onto his face, and his cheeks were rosy. I admired his black fingerless gloves wrapped around his muscular hands, which gripped tightly around his motorcycle’s handlebars. He wore a compression shirt, snug around his biceps, and his dark gray pants that his crimson briefs peeked out of. He turned the engine off then got off of it. He grabbed his backpack and textbooks out from the back of the bike and slung it onto his shoulder, while I grabbed the heavy textbooks from his hands and continued to stare at him in awe.

I snapped myself out of it as Miguel looked at me through his furrowed brows, while he locked his helmet to his mirror. “Miguel, when were you going to– I mean– since when did you have a motorcycle?” I asked, interrogating him. “Since always,” he replied, shrugging. He walked past me and towards my apartment, avoiding my questions, and supporting his guiltiness. I chased after him.

“No, you liar, I’ve never seen… When did you even…?” “Y/N, I always bring the car so you can ride with me. It would be too dangerous and… I wouldn’t want to risk anything with you,” he explained. “So you only drive your car… for me?” I asked, hiding how flattered I was. He nodded.

“Okay but that doesn’t change the fact that you’ve still been keeping this from me,” I shrugged, “I mean, Miguel, you’ve been living a double life. You’re a double-agent, double-crossing, traitor, backstabbing, liar,” I accused jokingly, chasing after him. I caught up to him at my door, as I watched him scoff and smile, avoiding me as he opened my apartment door and entered before me.

“You have to make it up to me,” I exclaimed, “I mean, don’t you think it would be a little fucked for you to drive over here with your fancy new ride, and rub it in my face just to not let me ride with you,” I said, shrugging, blocking his way. “And that is exactly why I kept it from you,” he said, sarcastically smiling, walking around me and into the kitchen. He dropped his backpack to the floor as I placed the pile of books onto the kitchen counter. He sat at the counter, dragging the textbooks in front of him, and opening them up, ready to study. “But– but–” “It’s not safe, Y/N,” he declared, firmly. “Damn, okay,” I muttered, sitting beside him, slumping and slowly opening up my notebook. I sighed and began to write. He turned to me then hung his head low, sighing to himself, and muttering in Spanish.

“You brat,” he said, as he stood up and slammed his textbook closed. He walked towards the front door, heading back to his motorcycle. I followed happily behind him.

He stood beside his motorcycle, his hands on his hips, “Get over here,” he demanded. I walked quickly across the grass then arrived on the opposite side of his motorcycle, awaiting his instructions.

“Get on top,” he demanded. Never thought I’d hear him say those words. “Okay, geez” I muttered, slinging one leg across the bike, trying to climb up. He watched me struggle, his arms crossed, as he rolled his eyes. “Not all of us are fucking 6’9” Miguel, help me up,” I exclaimed, annoyed.

He came to my side of the bike, and put his hand underneath my thigh, lifting me up onto it.

I sat on his bike, as he stood tall beside me. “Nice,” I said, nodding excitedly. “Good, now safety,” he said, pulling an extra helmet out from the back. He grabbed his helmet and rested it on my lap as he helped me put the spare on. He brushed my hair back, gently moving it out of my face and sliding the helmet onto me, adjusting it. He lifted the shield up so he could see my eyes.

“Do I look cool?” I asked, grinning with my eyes. He stepped back, taking in the view of me hovering on his bike. “So cool… and kind of…” “hot,” I finished, confidently. “I feel like all-black was the way to go today,” I said, looking down at my pants, tracing my hands along my hips and thighs. He nodded, smiling down at me, “you do look… hot,” he affirmed, nodding, his gaze soft on me. He cleared his throat then came back closer to me, adjusting the helmet.

He traced his fingers down from the bottom of the helmet to the black cord around my neck. “You’ve always eyed this one,” I whispered nervously, as I looked up at him. “Triquetra: body, mind, spirit,” he said, tracing it. I nodded. “Your Irish is showing,” I muttered, nudging him as he smiled down at me. “Take it,” I said, as I undid it and began to wrap it around his neck. “No, what are you doing, Y/N? It’s yours,” he argued, gently pushing my hands away. “Don’t be annoying. I’m going to Dublin this summer, I’ll buy a new one,” I pushed. He surrendered, as I wrapped it around his neck. I continued, “This one has been mine since forever, so it has luck and my… essence, so you can… wear it when you’re driving or whenever you need protection,” I reasoned, clasping it.

“Thank you, Y/N. I’m never taking this off,” he said, looking down at it, his fingers caressing the charm. “So,” he took a deep breath then climbed onto the bike, now sitting in front of me. He pulled his helmet on then turned it on, now gripping the handlebars. “Scoot closer to me,” he said, reaching behind him to grab my arms and wrap them around him. “We’ll ride, but only for a bit,” he asserted. “Okay,” I whispered. He reached back and grabbed under my thighs, lifting me effortlessly up and closer to him, my thighs now completely wrapped around him. He smelled like cinnamon and… Miguel. I lowered the shield on my helmet, my face flushed. His gloved hands clenched around the bars, as he slowly started to drive.

We drove down the street, as I held onto his muscular body tightly. I’m enjoying this a little too much. “We should head into the main city, just barely, for a little,” I whined. “We have to study,” he exclaimed back at me, through the wind. “Please, just for a bit, for me,” I said, squeezing him tighter. I felt him exhale against my chest. He dropped his head low, defeated. He headed towards the freeway. “I hate you,” he exclaimed. I grinned under my helmet, leaning my head into his back. He sped up, my hair combed by the wind.

We entered the main city, the huge skyscrapers lit up, shining above us. I looked up in awe. “You good back there?” he called out, patting my leg. I squeezed him tightly, nodding against him. We drove through the city, then eventually headed back.

We pulled up in front of my apartment, as he turned the engine off and got off of the bike. He took his helmet off and ran his fingers through his hair. He stood beside me, and helped me take off mine. He lifted it off of me slowly, his eyes immediately meeting mine.

“See, not as dangerous as you thought it would be, huh?” I teased, hoping it would convince him to let me ride with him again.

“Mmmm, you are still in one piece,” he said, shrugging, helping me get off of the bike. “So, you’ll invite me to ride with you again, someday, maybe?” I asked, smiling up at him, leaning closer to him. “I’ll consider it,” he said, smirking down at me as we walked to my apartment to study. “Fair enough.”

✧༺♥༻∞

next part

Tag List: @wingedturtledream @that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main @infirebaby @skaochii @bat-yo-us @lostpirate79 @renn-pumkin-head @princessa-micomicona @qundadedingle11 @waiif-uwu @punpuun @migueloharaslxt @thbidkbutok @00macy2022 @acehyacinth

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sylusjinwoon · 1 year ago

Text

{ 124 }

joy.

peter parker x fem.reader

10 stages of love

notes: unedited; post no way home; no one remembers that peter parker is spidey; both the reader and peter are in their second year of university.

{ joy is the coldest lover i know | only because she never comes }

1. first sight

lab had kept you on campus for far longer than usual, and it was nearing midnight when you completed your research with your professor, dr. kingsley.

he kindly asks if you would like for him to walk you home, but you declined his offer, saying that it was best for him to head back home to his wife, that you would be just fine by yourself. after all, you had no reason to be afraid, since you went home alone almost every night.

despite how new york city was known to be a dangerous place, you considered yourself quite lucky to have never faced any problems or issues during your walk back to your apartment.

perhaps it's thanks to that vigilante... what was his name again? wait, it was spider-man.

as you crossed the darkened streets of the city, you allow your mind to wander, thinking back to all those videos you saw plastered all over the internet. lately, there's been sighting of a young man swinging around new york, dressed in a skin-tight suit that bore the motif of a spider.

whenever you could see him clearly from the video's blurry screen, you realize that his form was quite lean and lithe, and you figured that he was a hero that was just starting out. during your free time, you find yourself browsing through youtube and tiktok, just to see if anyone had caught any further sightings of spider-man.

the sound of some rowdy laughter makes you stop in your tracks, and you saw a group of guys standing on the sidewalk, blocking your usual path home. you purposely took a step back, not wanting to draw their attention as you turned around to search for an alternative way home.

with your hair whipping in the cold wind, a sudden whistle causes the hairs to stand from the back of your neck. "whoa, hey babygirl, you lost or somethin'?"

ignoring their catcalls, you quicken your pace-

only to bolt out into a run upon hearing their footsteps chasing after you.

their laughter was heard intensifying, taking absolute pleasure in your panic and fear. the weight of your bag that carried your school belongings was weighing you down, and you half considered tossing it at them to make a clear getaway-

but when you found yourself suddenly trapped, with all three men surrounding you, there was a feeling of despair felt in the pit of your stomach.

"p-please, just let me go, i'll give you all the money that i have."

"come on, don't be so scared and shy. we don't want your money, we just wanna have some fun with you."

you brace yourself, ready to scream for dear life when a rich chuckle was heard coming from just a few feet away from you.

"didn't your mothers ever told you assholes how to treat a lady right?"

your throat felt dry when your would-be attackers stopped gaining up on you, facing whoever spoke in that cocky tone as you saw spider-man standing before you.

it was undeniable that it was him, with the suit and all. his mask was all that was seen as he tilts his head to look at you. the three goons talk amongst themselves, not believing that this was the real spider-man as the quickly gained up on him.

"come on, there's no way this guy's the real deal, it's just some poser lookin' to get laid by 'saving' her."

you gasp, taking a step back once punches were thrown, and spidey dodged every single one of them. he manages to grab one of their arms and twist it back, kicking him away as another one tried to tackle him from the front.

being distracted by the two thugs, spidey was unaware of the third one, coming at him with a blade shining in his hands.

"spider-man, watch out!"

your warning came a second too late as the man manages to slash at spider-man's left arm. you hear him let out a hiss of pain before kicking the knife away. with your mind racing, you look onwards to see spidey managing to detain all three of the guys miraculously, even with his injured arm.

with your heart felt pounding within the confines of your chest, you look at spider-man, seeing him continuing to grip at his injured arm all while meeting your gaze from beneath his mask.

"are you okay?" spidey's voice was gentle, and you mentally cursed, jinxing yourself for ever believing that you could spend all your days remaining safe while in the dangerous city of new york.

2. introduction

"you're hurt." you ignored how shaky your voice came out, coming closer to spidey as you gingerly touched at his injured arm.

he replies to your statement with a strained laugh, "it's alright, i've experienced a pain much worse than this." the way his voice cracked near the end sent a sudden sharp pain within your chest, but you quickly ignored the feeling as you coaxed him to follow you home.

"wait, it's okay, i don't need any help...!"

"i'm not letting you say no, spidey. i have to help you or else... i won't ever forgive myself if anything bad happens to you. what if your arm gets infected and you get sick?"

your words manage to silence the young vigilante, making you break out into a tiny smile. "just... let me do this for you as a thank you, for saving me."

you see spidey give you a gentle nod, and you continue to lead him back to your apartment complex. the walk was relatively peaceful and silent now, and thanks to how late it was, not a soul was even awake enough to witness you taking spidey into your apartment.

you gesture at him to wait on your couch as you head to the bathroom and search for some neosporin ointment, cotton, and a roll of bandages. it wasn't much, but you hoped it would be enough to help out spidey and his pain.

returning back to him, you kneel on the ground and ask him to take his arm out of his suit. spidey remains silent, simply giving you a nod before freeing his arm. seeing the fresh cut on the side of his bicep, you apply the ointment on the cotton before gently dabbing at the wound. a light hiss escapes from spidey, and you softly apologize for hurting him.

"the cut isn't too deep, but it'll take some time to heal." once the ointment was placed over the wound did you finally wrap the bandage around it, making sure it was completely covered before sitting back with a laugh.

"perfect. i'm no doctor or paramedic, but i'm sure that you'll be healed in no time, spidey."

you hear him let out a soft chuckle, leaning forward as he reaches out to you with his uninjured hand. "if you don't mind me asking, what's your... what's your name?"

you blink up at him, finding yourself leaning into his touch when you tell him your name. spidey repeats those syllables, making your heart flutter even more at the sound.

a few moments pass, with neither of you saying a word. as if awakening from a trance, spider-man backs away from you, adjusting his suit once more when he places his injured arm back inside of it.

he coughs, standing back to his full height as he walks over to your fire escape. "uhm, thanks for helping me. i-i gotta go, so-"

"wait...!" you call out to him, your voice sounding hopeful as you prayed that he would tell you his true name.

"what's your name...if you don't mind me asking?"

you wait with bated breath, seeing spider-man still hanging from your open window. and even though you couldn't see him, somehow, you knew that he was smiling from beneath the mask.

"you can call me peter."

with that final phrase, spider-man left your apartment, and you knew that you would never be the same after such a fated meeting.

3. interaction

you were distracted, and you knew that you were.

but you couldn't help it.

you could not stop thinking about him-

about spider-man / peter.

despite your troubled thoughts, you did your best to remain completely and utterly normal throughout the entirety of your classes. yet none of your professors caught on to your less-than-optimal state. it wasn't until you went to do research with dr. kingsley that your inability to focus was made to be achingly obvious.

dr. kingsley calls out your name with concern, "are you alright? there's something going on with you, since you spent the last hour reviewing data we had already completed weeks ago."

upon realizing that your professor was right, you felt your blood turn ice cold. looking back at the desktop's screen, you chew at your bottom lip, upset that you had wasted so much time. "i'm sorry, dr. kingsley, l-let me pull up the right file and-"

"no no, i insist that you go home now." his voice was gentle when he takes a hold of your arm and forces you to stand up. "classes are getting tougher now that midterms are right around the corner, and i realize that it may have been selfish of me to require you to do all this work. tell you what, you may come back and do research with me after your midterms are complete. are we clear?"

"yes sir." you grab all of your belongings together, shooting a grateful expression at him. "thank you for your understanding, and i promise, i'll be back soon!"

dr. kingsley merely gives you a wave, wishing you luck on your midterms before going back to his lab. with a sigh, you head out of the building, craving for something warm and sweet to cheer you up. as you walked across campus, you felt the hairs standing at the back of your neck-

you look behind you to see a boy around your age standing several feet away from you. his features were indiscernible, but you figured it was just another student.

but just in case...

without glancing back, you dart away from the concrete path and into the grass, making a shortcut towards your university's café.

but when you heard footsteps still following you, you had a hunch that it was the same boy with brown hair. with a click of your tongue, you run towards one of the campus buildings, keeping yourself pressed against the wall in hopes of hiding yourself from him.

why does the world feel like messing with me all the time? first it was those three goons, and now this totally random guy was chasing after you.

when you caught sight of his brown hair was when you made your move, tackling him from the side as he landed to the ground with a grunt.

anger was felt sizzling through your veins as you glared down at the guy, only to feel it simmer down. the boy that fell to the ground looked... soft, achingly soft. he had matching, coffee brown eyes and full lips that were painted in a frown, still in pain. he struggles to get up, yet when you looked towards his left arm, you saw something that made your blood freeze up even further.

it was a bandage wrapped around his left bicep, letting you know just who this guy was.

"peter?"

he lets out a nervous laugh, standing back to his full height while brushing back his hair. "y-yeah. here and in the flesh... i didn't think we went to the same university."

4. attraction

your mind was spinning, unable to comprehend or even believe that spider-man was actually here. you couldn't believe that he was revealing yourself to you like this.

"come with me."

you quickly grab on to peter's arm, leading him towards the café while trying to hold back the heat that was threatening to dye your cheeks. for starters, you weren't expecting spider-man to be so cute, with his doe eyes and full lips parted in a half grin-

he was totally the type you would go for.

but one thing was bothering you-

why was he so willing to reveal himself as the spider-man to you? wasn't the whole point of being a vigilante to keep your superhero identity a secret?

so just why did peter basically out himself to you?

with the café in sight, you enter with peter in tow, making a beeline towards the further table in the back. letting go of his arm, you take a seat across from peter at the table, with you looking around to make sure no one would hear you or listen in.

"is it really you, spidey?" you ask peter in hushed tones, with him answering you with a nod.

you look back to his arm, "does it still hurt?"

peter shrugs while smiling at you, "it's nothing a little ibuprofen can't fix. i'm fine."

relief was felt coursing through you, "that's great!" you tell him before clearing your throat, wishing to ask him this specific question, "listen, i just wanted to reassure you that your secret is safe with me, b-but i was just wondering, isn't it better to keep your identity hidden from anyone? w-why did you basically confirm that you and spider-man were the same person?"

peter gives you a deprecating smile, "you're a smart girl, much smarter than you let on..." he thrums his fingers against the table, as if searching for the right words to say.

after a few moments of silence, peter speaks once more. "i don't know, i guess i was just... tired to keeping this a secret. i didn't want anyone else i cared about get hurt from my dishonesty so... so i came clean to you right from the start."

he closes his eyes before leaning forward, placing his hand over yours. peter opens his eyes once more as a deep pain was seen settled within his gaze.

"i already lost everyone that once meant the world to me, and i guess i just wanted something to change, that's all."

peter gives you yet another smile, but this one was much softer, much kinder as he kept his gaze on you. with you sitting with peter, you felt as though you were the only two people in the world, allowing the strange warmth to take over as a new emotion began to blossom deep within your chest.

5. date

you were currently finishing up your essay when a series of knocks were heard coming from your front door. taking out your headphones, you stopped playing the music from your phone and went to answer the door.

but what you weren't expecting was to see peter parker himself standing in front of you with a bouquet of daisies in his hand. you take a step back, feeling the familiar warmth gracing your cheeks as you called out to him.

"p-peter, what's this?"

ever since your first meeting, you and peter had started becoming closer as friends. of course, you couldn't deny that you had one of the biggest crushes on him, but there was no way in hell you were admitting that to him.

sure, you had some study dates here and there, but this was the first time you saw peter standing outside of your apartment with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. and he was dressed kind of nicely, too, ditching that plain t-shirt for a sweater that fit him to perfection with a dark pair of jeans, completing his overall look with a pair of converses.

"hey, i-i was hoping you'd like to... go on a date with me...?" his words came out a bit slow, and you could practically see the anxiety shining within his eyes. he was afraid of rejection, but little did he know that you would never deny this chance to get closer to him.

"like, a date date? a real date?"

that's when peter flashes you a genuine smile, "yeah, a real date."

you look behind you, seeing your essay still displayed on your computer screen as you quickly ignored it, setting it aside to complete at a later date.

because there was no way you were going to say no to going on an actual date with peter parker.

6. holding hands

peter ends up taking you to a movie with a dinner afterwards. the date was completely casual, and you found yourself having the time of your life.

the sky had long darkened as stars littered across the expanse of the universe. your heart felt peaceful while you walked with peter.

"so... the city is not in need of any saving?"

your question earns a chuckle from peter. "nope, not tonight. i think the police can handle all the petty crime seen around the city for once."

you laugh with him, playfully running your hips against him as peter gave you a feign expression of pain. he rejoins you in your laughter, but this time, taking your hand.

this wasn't exactly the first time you had held hands together, but the emotion remained the same. the touch was so soft and benign, void of any urgency the moment peter interlocks his fingers together with yours. he smiles down at you, with you doing the same as you decided to walk closer to him.

keeping you by his side, peter takes your hand to press his lips against your knuckles, filling you with a sudden joy you weren't sure you had felt in a long time.

all you knew was that you never wished for this feeling, or this night, to ever end.

7. first kiss

you and peter spent the next couple of hours just walking around the city, talking about your lives and how you grew up.

you had parents who loved you, but desired to be a bit more independent, hence why you attended a university a bit further away from home.

peter didn't have anyone that was close to him anymore, telling you that his aunt had passed away a couple of years ago, that his death still stung him to this day.

you knew that this was just another part of peter that he was afraid of showing; the one who truly had lost everything within a blink of an eye. after he admits to how lonely he was to you, the silence returned, but only because the pain and empathy you felt for him was so raw that you didn't truly know what to say.

so you spent the next couple of minutes walking back home in silence, with peter still holding hands with you. with your lips pursed, you gently gave peter's hand a squeeze, catching his attention as he meets your gaze.

he gives you another tiny smile, squeezing your hand back in reply.

time goes by in a blur, and you found yourself standing in front of your apartment. peter remains silent, but you could see how shiny his eyes had become, alerting you to how he was having a difficult time holding back his emotions.

not saying a word, you take a hold of his face, framing it with your two hands. he looks at you, allowing a single tear to fall from his eyes before leaning in to softly kiss him.

he gasps, feeling him let out a slight hiccup before kissing you back. you allowed your lips to slot perfectly against his, tasting the saltiness of his tears when you deepened the kiss.

after a few seconds, you pull away from the kiss, gently caressing at peter's skin when you ask, "do you wish to spend the night here, with me?"

peter remains silent, merely wrapping his arms around you as he hugged your form even tighter to him, never daring to let you go as you invited him into the comfort of your apartment.

8. relationship

your relationship with peter was something that was still growing, yet already there was some rockiness felt along the way.

for starters, peter had gone back to his vigilante duties, often leaving you on read each time you would send him a text to check on him. but regardless of how his silence and distance hurt you, you knew it was only because peter was busy saving people.

but that didn't make it any easier.

each night, you found yourself aching for his presence, with all of your texts piling up with each day. you knew peter could see each and every one of them, but had yet to make an effort to even call or text you back.

truth be told, you were hurt. couldn't peter spare you even just a few minutes of his time? can't he call you so you could talk; so you could hear the sound of his voice? and why, whenever you search for him on campus, was he always nowhere to be found?

why did he feel so far away now, when things haven't even begun?

as the days morph into weeks, you decided to burn the sadness that was felt in the pit of your heart. you turned that sadness into anger, stopping all of your contact with peter as you went on with your life.

if he wants to give up on our relationship, then fine. it's better now when we're barely a few months in than suffer in the longterm.

thanks to your spite, you end up blocking his number, cutting off all contact with him. you refused to allow the guilt to fester within the pit of your stomach and tried to move on.

it continued on like this for a few more days, with you feeling the tiniest bit better without having to stress about peter and what he was doing. even if you were still hurting, you wouldn't force yourself to go through such unnecessary pain ever again.

and just when you were so confident that you could do this; could leave peter at a blink of an eye-

it all came crashing back down on you.

when you came home, you expected your apartment to be empty-

not to see peter parker himself settled on your couch with the utmost look of defeat on his face. he was still dressed as spider-man, and you were left flabbergasted, unable to react or respond as you looked from him to the sight of your open window, the one that lead out to your fire escape.

"get out, right now, just what the fuck are you even doing here?" you spat out with as much venom as you could muster, only to wince when peter's head fell.

"i'm sorry, you have every right to be mad at me, b-but, i can't do it. i can't let you go."

peter sounded like he was going to cry again, and the sound of his pain was enough to push you forward.

"peter..."

"i know that my life is a fucking mess, that everyone is probably better off without me. i realized that i was being selfish when i tried pursuing a relationship with you."

"b-but, i was so happy being with you that i forgot all about that. all i wanted was to fall deeper for you, but my stupid thoughts prevented me from making you happy. i'm just... so scared all the time."

feeling your own tears welling up within your eyes, you come closer to him and join him on the couch, wrapping your arms around him as you allowed your lips to brush against his unruly locks of hair.

"it's okay... it's okay. i get it, i do... all you need to do is just... trust me, peter." peter then clings to you, hiding his face within the curve of your neck while letting out a sigh of your name.

"it's just... you won't ever forget about me, right?"

"never ever."

you seal your promise to him with a sweet kiss, knowing now that you could never leave this boy with a heart of gold behind at all.

9. love

you and peter both lay back in bed, with you resting your head against his chest. you simply spent the entire day basking in each other's presence. as you listened to the gentle beating of his heart, you reach out to grab a hold of his hand, linking his fingertips together with yours before giving it a squeeze.

peter let's out a soft chuckle, taking a hold of your hand to press a lingering kiss at the back of it.

after you and peter finally communicated about your mutual feelings, you came to a mutual understanding. with your relationship growing stronger, you knew that you could never truly leave peter, that this boy who lost everything deserved to have a happy ending for once in his life.

as if reading your thoughts, peter takes a hold of your chin and leans closer to you, giving you a kiss that made your mind turn blank. you end up relishing the warm that he exuded, kissing him back with as much fervor to show him how you truly felt.

he pulls away first, staring deeply into your eyes while tracing at your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb.

"i've never felt so happy before... i can proudly say that this is the first time i have felt so much joy in my life-

"and it's all thanks to you, i love you." peter completes his statement by pressing yet another searing kiss against your lips, the sensation of it all enough to make your heart burst with happiness in response.

"oh peter parker, i love you, too."

as you and peter continued to lay in bed together, you knew that sharing this type of life with him would not be an easy one-

but you loved him enough to try, knowing that it was all going to be worth it in the end.

10. commitment

peter held your hand, leading you to the graveyard with a solemn expression on his face. knowing that this was an important day for him, you remain silent, just keeping your hand interlocked with his as you prayed that this would be enough to ease his pain.

you follow him throughout the cemetery, only stopping when he stands in front of a gravestone. he was silent, giving you a moment to read what was engraved:

here lies may parker...

"hey may, it's been a while." peter's voice breaks, and he sharply inhales before continuing, still giving your hand a tight squeeze. "i just wanted to tell you that you don't have to worry about me anymore..."

"i know how i told you about ned and michelle forgetting all about me, and for the longest time, i was stuck in such a deep darkness, one that i wasn't even sure i could even get out of."

"but... i ended up escaping that darkness, and it's all thanks to her." peter looks over at you with true love shining within his eyes. "i met her due to certain circumstances, and i was so happy i was able to protect you that night."

you could feel your tears forming, but no words would come out, instead, you mouthed the word i love you to him, basking in his sweet smile.

"i just wanted to tell you that you don't have to worry anymore, may. that i found someone who truly is my soulmate, who makes me happier than anyone in this world."

peter looks away from you briefly to stare at the bright morning sun, "so if you're up there, please know that i am happy now."

no words were spoken, but you swore you felt the sun warming your body as a gentle wind goes through your hair, the sensation making you let out a soft giggle as the sound catches peter's attention. he looks down at you with his own grin, saying your name when he reaches down to touch at your lips.

and as you were caught in his embrace, you were unaware of how brightly your golden wedding bands shone from beneath the intensity of the sunlight.

a.n. - it's been roughly 2 and a half years since no way home's release, and i was finally able to write a comfort fic for peter parker 🥹 he deserves his happy ending.

i apologize for any errors in this story, but i hope you readers enjoy this anyways.

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #marvel x reader #peter parker angst #peter parker #.stories

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redheadspark · 2 years ago

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Hawuu could i request prompts 9. standing up for a loved one and 42.realizing their feelings for Druig (if two prompts aren't allowed you can pick 42) thanks

A/N - Hawuu! Thanks for requesting this, dear friend! I love this for Druig, and I'll do number 42 for you! Thanks again!

Hold

Summary - Druig had a hold on you, whether you knew it or not

Warnings - Just a hint of angst but mostly fluff

“Let’s go for a swim,”

“What about Ajak and her meeting? And you know I can’t swim!”

“You can still put your feet in and sit near the edge, and that meeting is not for another hour or so, we can slip away for a quick swim at the lake, don’t you think?”

You grabbed your bag and followed Makkari out of the Domo, Makkari wishing to walk since running wouldn’t be as fun. The weather was nice and too warm for your liking to hide away in the Domo all day long, and since there was going to do with the humans that morning the Eternals were a bit restless. So Sersi and Ikaris went off together for a walk, Kingo went to the market to shop and mingle with the humans, Gilgamesh took Thena off riding along the riverbanks, Phastos worked on some inventions in his lab, and Sprite stayed behind in her room to read some of the books Makkari got her.

Druig ventured off earlier that morning before the heat came in, which was coming for him since he was mostly one to be on his own and ponder his thoughts and predictions about the humans. You knew he liked the solstice most of the time, but not always. He was more hardwired to think deeper and more sensible when it came to the human race, not that the others didn’t. But with how he would talk to you about wishing there to be peace, wishing to stop all the hurt that they would inflict on one another, you knew how deep his heart and soul was.

It was so easy to fall into a friendship with him, yet in the back of your mind you wondered if it would go past that.

Makkari was humming along as you two were talking together along the that you knew would lead to the lake. With the sun beating down on the back of your neck and the sweet smells of the wildflowers that already bloomed, you were looking forward to unwind. Some of the recent tasks and jobs you had to do for the humans in their city seemed a bit stressful and uneasy, especially with a couple of near death experiences with Deviants. But thankfully, you were going to leave the city in a few days. It was both bittersweet and celebrated since you all grew to love the humans there and some of the hidden gems.

Including the very lake you are going to.

Once the lake was in sight, you saw Makkari have a pep in her step as the clear blue waters was seen over the little hill. You were revived too, thinking that a dip in the lake would be the best relief on a warm day. Yet you never realized that you two would have company, since you froze in your spot on the path from seeing a singular person in the lake. Instantly you knew who it was: the ivory skin was glistened in the water, the highlighted brown hair against a pale forehead, and bright blue eyes that almost mirrored the same shade of the. Lake water.

Druig.

He was still wearing his dark undergarment pants while he was swimming, his muscular back was on display as he was moving back and forth in the lake and going stroke for stroke. Of course he was your friend, all the time he was your friend and someone you could rely on with your own troubles and needs. Then again, you always had the small possibility of liking him as more than a friend.

Knowing how massive his heart was, now kind he was to the humans that he spoke to, how self assured he was with his beliefs and how he felt about him, that were all great attributes that loved and adored him. Plus it never helped that you saw him as handsome. Even now as you were watching him swim, freely and with nothing hindering him, he looked almost heavenly in the blue waters.

Did you like him?

“Hey! You two comin’ to join me for a swim?” You were snapped back into reality as you heard Druig call out from his spot in the water.

Sorry to break up your solo time, Makkari signed as she walked down the path to the edge of the lake Druig waving her off.

“It’s fine! Come on in, the water’s nice! Plus it’s the once place Ikkaris honest know about, get the golden boy can’t swim like you ladies can,” Druig joked as Makkari was now to her own undergarments. You made it to the edge too, slowly getting down to your undergarments wig ease as Makkari was not waddling not the water. You could hear her sigh in relief as she was getting now calf deep in the water and then to her waist. Once you are down to your undergarments which included pants and a shirt, you dipped your toes in to feel the sudden chill of the water. It made you shiver a bit, and you look out to see there was a massive shallow area in the lake before it dips in deep.

Druig was laughing while Makkari was swimming circles around him, her own smile was just as radiant as the lake water while you were going in a bit deeper and deeper, now about knee deep and right at the edge of the shallow area. The small little dip that dropped off was right in front of it, and although you were an all powerful Eternal who had more strength in your fingers than any human, you were still afraid to attempt to swim. After one nasty attempt to try and learn, all thanks to Kingo, you decided to wait to learn. Sure it seemed childish, but you didn’t care, you weren’t ready. Maybe you’re still not.

“Hey, want me to hold ya?”

Druig swam up to the small edge, hovering a bit in the water as he was looking up at you with his glistened hair against his forehead and his eyes beyond bright. You blinked, fiddling with your fingers.

“What?” You asked.

“I’ll hold ya if you want,” He explained, sounding calm and gentle with you. He knew you never swam and you had some fear swimming, he was even mad at Kingo for almost letting you drown when you were trying to learn from him, but Druig himself never pushed you into learning. It was one of the moments that you never forgot about Druig, his heart for you and making sure you are okay. This was the same way.

“Here, come sit,” he said, gesturing to the ledge that was under the water. Carefully you sat, feeling the water now to your waist and your feel dangling over the edge and in front of Druig. You felt your heart get quick, your hands shaking a bit from being on the top of the water. Druig sensed it and moved, lacing your fingers together and being palm to palm. Instantly, you felt his skin along yours, almost like his rhythmic heartbeat that he was pressing against your own hand.

“Look at me,” He said soothingly, your eyes going from his joined hands over him. He was staring right into your eyes, looking rather calm and sincere with you as he spoke again, “I won’t let ya go, I promise.”

Nodding your head, you took the first moving and slid into the deep water. Your heart plummeted and you were about to gasp out when an arm was instantly around your waist. Your arm was along his shoulder, clinging to you for a moment since you were now hovering in the water and Druig was holding you up. You should feel fear, genuine fear since the last time you tried this, you almost drowned. But this was different, this was another feeling.

Safe. You wee safe.

“There. See?” Druig said as he was still holding you close to him and giving you a warm smile. That’s when it hit you, in the right moment as you grinned back at him. All of those fleeting feelings that you were harboring and wondering were true, all of those times you two spent together on the Domo or out with the humans, they were making sense now as Druig was helping you in such a vulnerable moment. The fear was gone, the worry and wondering was non existent, what you were feeling for Druig was true.

That’s when it hit you: you did like him. Really liked him. Oh…

“Thank you,” You replied lightly, seeing him grin get a bit bigger in return. Yeah, yeah you had it bad for the mind controller.

A splash got on both you and Druig’s faces, you both looking over to see Makkari grinning as she waved.

“Aye, that’s not fair Makkari!” Druig said in a playful tease as Makkari rolled her eyes. You had no idea that Druig was thinking that same thing as you were as he held you close, that he too liked you for so long but was trying to figure out his own feelings and where his heart stayed. If he could, Druig would hold you just a close for as long as he could since he knew you felt safe with him.

And neither of you knew that Makkari already knew of your feelings for one another. She simply rolled her eyes and swam away, wondering when you two will ever get together.

The End

@a-lumos-in-the-nox @botanicalbarnes @heartofwritiing

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ilikemenbutonlyethanramsey · 3 months ago

Text

(Open heart on fire re-write, the one where MC is not MIA.)

Ethan Ramsey strode through the corridors of Edenbrook, his steps brisk and purposeful. It had been just over a year since he’d taken the position of Chief, and while the job was certainly not without its challenges—paperwork, meetings, administrative headaches—there was a quiet satisfaction in it.

The kind of satisfaction that he would never openly admit, of course. After all, this was Ethan Ramsey; complaining was second nature. He had a knack for finding the flaws, the inefficiencies, and the countless ways things could be better. Yet, amidst the grumbling, there was a thrill to the position—a sense of ownership and control over the medicine he had devoted his life to.

But it wasn’t just the job that gave him that feeling. There was something, or rather someone, who had made this past year feel different. His gaze drifted to the diagnostic wing as he walked, a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. The thing he adored most about his role wasn’t found in policy changes or budget meetings; it was the fact that Elle worked just a few corridors away. Their paths crossed often—sometimes by coincidence, sometimes not. The days were busier, more unpredictable now, but he loved the way his heart skipped whenever he saw her coming down the hallway or caught a glimpse of her in the midst of a case. It was like they were connected by an invisible thread, always pulling them back to each other, no matter how chaotic the hospital became. Even now, as he walked the familiar halls, he felt the pull, an unspoken anticipation humming beneath his cool exterior.

As he rounded a corner, he could see Harper talking animatedly to a group of interns near the elevators, her sharp eyes catching his the second he approached. A brief nod was exchanged between them—a silent acknowledgment that he was, indeed, doing what he did best—keeping things running smoothly, but also always keeping an eye out for her. Because as much as he was Chief, Ethan Ramsey was also still very much a doctor. And part of being a doctor meant knowing where his most important people were. Especially when one of them was Elle.

Although, that morning, Ethan had woken up to find Elle still in bed, her face flushed and her voice thick with congestion. She’d caught a nasty cold, the kind that left her sniffling and coughing weakly under a pile of blankets. It was clear she wasn’t in any shape to make it to work, but she had insisted he go in anyway. She’d given him that familiar, stubborn look, the one that said she wasn’t to be argued with, even though she was barely able to sit up without a bout of coughing. “You’re Chief now, Ethan,” she’d said, her voice hoarse yet determined. “You have to be there. No arguments.” He’d lingered by her side, reluctant to leave her alone while she was sick, but eventually, after a lot of gentle persuasion on her part, he’d relented. It was typical Elle, putting him and the hospital before herself, and he couldn’t help but admire her even as he worried. So, with a soft kiss to her forehead and a promise to check in between cases, he had pulled on his lab coat and headed out the door, her insistence echoing in his mind as he left.

Ethan pulled out his phone, standing just outside the Diagnostics Team’s workspace. With a quick swipe, he opened a new message to Elle, his fingers moving swiftly across the screen:

How are you feeling? Did you get any rest? I’ll be home as soon as I can. Let me know if you need anything.

He hit send, his mind half-focused on Elle as he slid his phone back into his coat pocket. Without thinking, he turned the corner—and immediately collided with Harper Emery, nearly sending her files spilling to the floor.

“Ethan!” Harper exclaimed, catching herself and laughing a bit. “You’ve really got to watch where you’re going. Distracted, huh? You look like a lost puppy.”

Ethan took a step back, his expression neutral as he steadied her by the elbow. “Sorry, Harper,” he said, his voice a bit clipped. “Just trying to check in on Elle.”

Harper raised an eyebrow, her expression softening. “She’s off today, isn’t she? Is she alright?”

Ethan sighed, a subtle frustration seeping into his posture as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, she’s got some kind of cold,” he said, his voice a mix of concern and exhaustion. “Elle insisted I come in, said it’s nothing serious. But you know how she is—stubborn as hell.”

Harper nodded knowingly. “She never does things halfway, does she?”

“No, she doesn’t,” Ethan admitted, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “She’d drag herself in if I let her. But I told her to stay home and rest.” He dropped his hand from his face, looking directly at Harper. “It’s just… hard not to worry.”

“Well,” Harper said, her tone shifting to something lighter, “if she’s as tough as you say, she’ll be back before you know it. In the meantime, we need you here, Chief. Diagnostics could use your brain today.”

Ethan’s eyes narrowed slightly, the familiar walls of the hospital settling him back into his role. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Harper,” he replied dryly, though there was a glimmer of humor in his eyes.

Before Harper could respond, a deafening explosion rocked the building, rattling the windows and sending a powerful shockwave through the hospital. The ceiling above them cracked, releasing a shower of dust and debris as an ear-splitting roar filled the air. Alarms blared instantly, drowning out any coherent sounds, and the floor seemed to tremble beneath their feet.

In an instinctive, protective motion, Ethan threw his arm around Harper’s shoulders, yanking her down and shielding her with his body as chunks of the ceiling gave way, slamming onto the floor with a thunderous crash just inches from where they stood. Plaster and metal rained down around them, filling the air with a choking cloud of dust. The acrid smell of smoke hit his nostrils almost immediately, thick and suffocating, forcing him to breathe shallowly.

Ethan’s heart pounded in his chest, the adrenaline searing through his veins, and he turned quickly, scanning the hall for any signs of immediate danger. “Harper!” he barked, his voice rough with urgency as he pulled her to her feet. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, eyes wide, her face pale with shock. “No, I’m okay,” she managed to say, but the words were barely audible over the cacophony of alarms.

Through the settling dust, Ethan could see the panic starting to unfold. Staff and patients alike were scrambling, shouts and cries blending into a chaotic symphony of fear. He had no time to think, only to act. “We need to move!” he said, gripping Harper’s arm tighter, guiding her through the rubble-strewn corridor.

They stumbled forward, dodging debris as they fought their way down the smoke-filled hallway. The lights flickered ominously, casting eerie shadows across the chaos that had suddenly enveloped Edenbrook. With every step, the situation seemed to grow more dire—plumes of smoke curling up from the fissures in the walls, the distant sound of shattering glass echoing like a warning.

Ethan’s mind raced, his instincts overriding any sense of personal safety. He knew the protocols, knew what he had to do, but as the floor buckled beneath his feet, he couldn’t help but think of Elle—sick and vulnerable, alone in their apartment while the world seemed to be falling apart around him.

“Stay low!” he shouted to Harper as they pressed on, his gaze shifting towards the exit signs glowing dimly through the haze. His only goal now was to get to the source of the chaos and make sure they could stabilize whatever the hell had just happened before it got any worse.

Ethan’s mind flashed back to the mandatory fire training they’d all gone through—the RACE protocol drilled into them year after year: Rescue, Alarm, Confine, Extinguish. It was all muscle memory now, taking over as his logical mind raced to keep up with the chaos. As Harper sprinted towards the closest fire exit, he felt the weight of his responsibility settle firmly on his shoulders. He had to take charge.

“Nurse!” he called out to a nearby staff member, urgency sharpening his voice. “Clear the hallways and get anyone in immediate danger to a safe place!”

He moved further down the smoke-filled corridor, his steps quick and purposeful, scanning for any sign of immediate danger. As he rounded a corner, he nearly collided with Jackie and Bryce, both of them looking wide-eyed but focused amid the chaos.

“Dr. Varma,” he said, locking eyes with Jackie, his voice calm despite the adrenaline pumping through his veins. “Assess how many patients need assistance with transport. We have to prioritize them.”

Jackie gave a sharp nod, determination replacing the fear on her face.

“On it, Dr. Ramsey,” she replied, turning swiftly to begin her task. She disappeared into the smoke, her footsteps already fading.

Ethan pivoted to face Bryce. “Lahela,” he said, his voice low and controlled. “Inspect all windows and doors. Keep them shut. We can’t risk feeding the fire with any oxygen from outside.”

Bryce didn’t hesitate, giving a quick salute before sprinting towards the nearest corridor, shutting doors as he went.

Jackie’s voice cut through the confusion, her tone edged with worry as she looked back at Ethan. “Do we have any idea what that explosion was?”

Ethan’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides as he tried to maintain control over his rising anger. “Could be oxygen tanks,” he said, his eyes flickering over the debris scattered around them. “We won’t know for sure until the fire department gets here,” he added, a hard edge to his voice. He couldn’t hide his frustration, a mix of worry and impatience boiling just beneath the surface. “If they ever get here.”

The uncertainty gnawed at him. As much as he trusted his instincts and the training he’d been through countless times, it was impossible to predict what kind of situation they were dealing with until the experts arrived. For now, all he could do was make sure his team was in control and keep everyone safe.

Ethan shook off the lingering irritation that gnawed at him. This wasn’t the time to lose focus. “Get back to your tasks, and make sure the doors are closed behind you!” he barked at Jackie and Bryce, watching as they moved swiftly back into action.

He circled back to the atrium, eyes scanning the chaotic scene. Nurses were guiding patients to the exits, some wheeling stretchers, others ushering those who could walk on their own. It was a practiced chaos, the kind Ethan thrived in. He quickly assigned more staff to ensure each patient was accounted for and directed towards safety.

Suddenly, a frantic voice rose above the cacophony. Ethan turned sharply, spotting a teenage girl who looked overwhelmed, her eyes wide with terror. “Someone, please help! My brother—I can’t find him!” she cried, her hands shaking.

Ethan was at her side in an instant, placing a steadying hand on her shoulder. “Hey, it’s going to be okay,” he said, his voice calm and reassuring despite the chaos swirling around them. “Take a deep breath. When was the last time you saw him?”

“Alicia!” A voice called out from behind, cutting off the girl’s frantic reply. Ethan’s gaze whipped around, and he spotted a firefighter emerging through the thick smoke. In his arms, he carried a young boy, coughing and dazed but seemingly unharmed.

Relief washed over the girl—Alicia—as she rushed to her brother’s side. The firefighter, with his perfectly styled brunette hair and a jawline that looked chiseled out of marble, barely had a smudge of ash on him. Ethan’s gratitude mingled with a flash of annoyance, the man looking more like a plastic firefighter Ken doll than someone who had just dragged a child out of a burning building.

Ethan watched as the firefighter handed his helmet to the boy, a wide grin spreading across Cody’s face. “Cody! Thank god you’re okay!” Alicia sobbed, pulling her brother into a tight embrace.

Phoenix, the firefighter who’d carried Cody out, crouched down to ruffle the kid’s hair. “He’s gonna be just fine, don’t worry,” he said warmly. “Cody, why don’t you tell your sister how brave you were?”

Cody beamed, standing a little taller. “Firefighter Phoenix says maybe one day, I can join the squad!” he announced proudly.

With a hearty chuckle, Phoenix placed his oversized helmet on the boy’s head, tilting it until it sat just right. “Looks good to me. What do you think?” he asked, winking at Alicia.

Ethan, arms folded, let out a soft scoff under his breath. Figures the flame jockey would be a softie, he thought. Clearing his throat, he forced himself to be professional. “You did a good thing there,” he acknowledged, nodding to Phoenix. “The poor kid was out of her mind before you got here.”

Phoenix’s warm expression cooled instantly as he turned to Ethan, his eyes narrowing. “Let me guess, you’re the stooge in charge here,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Ethan felt his jaw tighten. “I am… Dr. Ethan Ramsey, Chief of Medicine,” he replied, barely containing the irritation that flared within him. “And you are…?”

“Shea Phoenix,” the firefighter shot back, “Battalion Chief, Engine 57. I need you to get your people on top of evacuation.”

Ethan’s frown deepened, his voice firm. “We are on top of evacuation, Phoenix. There isn’t a smoke alarm going off because a tray of cookies burnt.” He glared at the firefighter, who seemed unfazed. “Hospitals have protocols that best serve our patients—protocols which you should be familiar with—”

Phoenix waved him off, turning away mid-sentence. “Amelia!” he barked over his shoulder. “Make sure the flames are contained at the point of origin.”

Ignoring the frustration boiling in his chest, Ethan forced himself to focus. Phoenix’s arrogance was infuriating, but there were bigger priorities. Phoenix turned back to him, his face all business. “Ramsey, I need to secure electrical power,” he said, voice clipped. “Where’s a map of your systems?”

Ethan paused, caught off guard. “I—I’ll get it,” he said, suppressing a flash of annoyance.

“I also need to know where your generator room is, which areas are supported by emergency power?” Phoenix pressed, his expression unyielding. “Stat.”

Ethan drew in a slow, calming breath, reigning in his temper. “I’m happy to help,” he said through clenched teeth, his thoughts boiling. Help get your pompous ass out of my hair, that is. He handed over the information Phoenix needed, then quickly resumed organizing the evacuation, determined not to let the firefighter’s attitude get in the way of his focus.

After what felt like an eternity, the evacuation was complete. Patients and staff gathered outside the hospital, huddled in groups as the fire department worked to ensure the building’s safety. Ethan stood apart from the others, arms crossed as he watched Phoenix confer with his team, the smoke clearing in the morning light.

Phoenix walked over, standing shoulder to shoulder with Ethan. For a long moment, they said nothing, just staring at the charred windows and smoke-stained walls of Edenbrook. Finally, Ethan broke the silence with a heavy sigh. “I appreciate your help,” he said, his tone measured, “despite the fact that it is literally your job.”

Phoenix raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

“But,” Ethan continued, his voice softening, “everyone is safe thanks to you. I owe you one.”

For a second, the fire chief looked surprised. Then, he nodded, the smirk fading to something more genuine. “Just doing what I’m trained to do, Doc,” he said. “But you and your team kept it together. We were a damn good team today.”

Ethan gave a reluctant nod, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. It wasn’t often he met someone as stubborn and relentless as himself. “Just don’t expect me to say that twice,” he muttered.

Ethan stepped back inside Edenbrook, his sharp gaze sweeping over the first floor. There was some smoke damage—blackened patches here and there on the walls and ceilings—but nothing catastrophic. The firefighters had done an impressive job containing the flames to the second floor. For the first time since the chaos began, he allowed himself to exhale, relief mingling with grudging admiration. Guess the flame jockeys are good for something, he thought.

He felt the unmistakable presence of Phoenix behind him, the firefighter’s broad shadow stretching across the floor. “You look like you’re choking on praise there, Doc,” Phoenix said, a teasing edge in his voice. “It won’t kill you to admit I know what I’m doing.”

Ethan smirked, glancing over his shoulder. “You’re right,” he said, his voice dry, “but it might take a year off my life.”

Phoenix laughed, the sound echoing in the hallway, carrying a hint of camaraderie beneath the banter. “Nothing’s gonna topple that ego of yours, is it, Doc?” he challenged, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

Ethan let out a weary sigh, crossing his arms. “You can’t talk,” he shot back. “Yours is as big as mine.”

Phoenix’s grin widened, and for a second, the tension between them eased, the lingering scent of smoke and the distant crackle of radios fading into the background. “Touché,” Phoenix conceded, nodding in acknowledgment. “But let’s just agree it’s our egos that got the job done today.”

“Maybe,” Ethan allowed, his eyes flicking to the scorched stairs leading to the second floor. “Or maybe it’s because, for once, we didn’t get in each other’s way.”

Phoenix chuckled, clapping Ethan on the shoulder with a heavy, calloused hand. “I’ll take that as the closest thing to a compliment I’m gonna get.”

Ethan shook his head, a reluctant smile pulling at his lips. “Don’t push it, Phoenix,” he warned, but there was no heat behind his words. They stood there a moment longer, two men who’d just gone toe-to-toe with disaster, silently acknowledging the uneasy respect that had begun to take root between them.

The entire afternoon had been a blur, a nonstop whirlwind of assessing, stabilizing, and coordinating the aftermath of the explosion. The doctors and firefighters worked together with the kind of synchronicity that only comes from experience, their movements efficient and precise. As the last of the smoke finally dissipated, the sun had long dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, amber glow over the hospital grounds. Ethan glanced at the clock, the exhaustion of the day pressing down on his shoulders. Edenbrook and Engine 57 had made a pretty damn good team, he had to admit.

Standing near the paperwork, Ethan read through the reports one last time. “Not one single casualty. I’m impressed,” he murmured to no one in particular.

Phoenix, who had been standing nearby, looked over his shoulder at the paper and grinned. “Careful, Ramsey. That almost sounded like a compliment.”

Ethan smirked, shaking his head. “My mistake,” he replied dryly, “it wasn’t meant to be.”

Phoenix chuckled quietly, but his expression softened as he grew more serious. “Well, I don’t know about you, but after today, I’m in desperate need of a drink. You and your team should join us.”

Ethan paused for a moment, the thought of some well-deserved R&R tempting him more than he’d care to admit. After the madness of the day, it wasn’t a bad idea. “I think we’ve earned a Scotch at Donahue’s,” he said with a grin.

“Excellent choice.”

Donahue’s was one of those old-school bars that seemed to capture the essence of a long, hard day’s work. The dim lights cast a golden glow over the aged wooden tables and the mismatched bar stools. The air was thick with chatter, laughter, and the sound of glasses clinking together as the crew from Edenbrook and Engine 57 relived the chaos they’d just survived. The bar smelled faintly of whiskey and wood polish, and the music in the background was a steady hum of classic rock—nothing too loud, just enough to settle into a rhythm as people relaxed.

Ethan and Phoenix found their way to the bar, where Reggie, the bartender, greeted them with a smile that said he’d seen his fair share of trouble over the years.

Ethan leaned against the counter. “Whiskey, did you say?” he asked, his tone more curious than anything.

Phoenix nodded, tapping the bar with his fingers. “Neat.”

Ethan turned to Reggie, ordering their drinks. “A Scotch and a whiskey, please.”

Reggie nodded and made his way down the bar to prepare the drinks. As he returned, Ethan lifted his glass towards Phoenix. “Here’s to being chief,” Ethan said, his voice carrying a tone of both respect and humor. “It’s a tough job…”

Phoenix smirked, clinking his glass against Ethan’s with a quiet clink. “But someone’s gotta do it.”

Ethan chuckled, shaking his head. “Took the words right out of my mouth. Kind of annoying how you keep doing that.”

Phoenix’s eyes swept around the room, scanning the familiar faces and the cozy atmosphere of the bar. “It’s no O’Malley’s,” he remarked, “but it’s pretty nice here.”

Ethan smirked back, the warmth of the Scotch easing some of the tension in his shoulders. “Well, one perk is that it’s usually not filled with firefighters.”

Phoenix shook his head, grinning. “Ha-ha. How do you command such a solid team when you’re such a pain in the ass?”

Ethan took another sip of his drink, considering Phoenix’s question with a thoughtful expression. “Healthy combination of fear and the promise of occasional after-work drinks.”

As the two men exchanged a look of amusement, Ethan’s phone rang, cutting through the banter. He glanced at the screen, his expression changing as he saw the name—Elle. Along with the call, a flood of missed messages popped up, all from her.

“Hold on a sec,” Ethan said, holding up a hand to Phoenix as he stepped away from the bar, his tone more serious. “I’ll be right back.”

Ethan answered the phone, his voice warm and familiar. “Hi gorgeous, you okay?”

On the other end, Elle sounded much better than she had earlier that morning. Her voice was soft, relaxed, and it made Ethan’s heart skip just a little. “Yup, I just wanted to see what you wanted to order for dinner? Have you eaten yet?”

Ethan tried to hide the smile that tugged at his lips as he glanced at Phoenix, who was eyeing him with curiosity. “Don’t worry about me tonight, you order what you like. Put it on my card, okay?”

Elle’s laugh filtered through the phone, and Ethan couldn’t help but feel a little lighter. “Okaay? Why are you being so sweet?”

He grinned to himself, a playful glint in his eyes. “Am I not always sweet?”

“I’d rather not answer that,” Elle teased, a faint smile audible in her tone. “When will you be home?”

Ethan glanced at the clock. 21:04. His thoughts immediately turned to Elle, and the thought of heading home after the chaos of the day felt like a welcome reprieve. “Give me half an hour, I’ll be there.”

“Okay. I love you. See you soon.”

Ethan’s heart warmed at her words, and he allowed himself to indulge in the sentiment for just a moment before responding. “I love you, see you soon.”

As he hung up, he turned to Phoenix, who had a knowing look on his face. Ethan quickly turned away, trying to brush it off, but the slight flush in his cheeks betrayed him. “What?” he muttered, keeping his tone casual as he picked up his drink.

Phoenix says nothing, only smiling for a moment before speaking

“You seem like a lucky man.”

Ethan paused for a moment, his fingers tightening around his glass as he glanced up at Phoenix. The comment, though lighthearted, hit a little closer to home than he expected. He took a slow sip of his drink, trying to keep his expression neutral.

“Maybe,” Ethan replied, his voice a little softer than usual. “But luck doesn’t always have much to do with it.”

Phoenix raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Oh?”

Ethan shrugged, setting his glass down. “No, it’s more about timing… and not taking things for granted.” He glanced back at his phone, checking the time again, the weight of the day starting to pull at him. “And knowing what you have when you have it.”

Phoenix studied him for a moment, nodding slowly as if understanding something unspoken. “I guess that makes sense. You seem like a guy who knows what he’s doing.”

Ethan smiled faintly, his thoughts drifting back to Elle. “Sometimes it feels like the hardest part is just holding on to what you’ve got.”

Phoenix gave a half laugh, clearly impressed. “I like your style, Ramsey.”

Ethan gave a quick nod, finishing his drink before standing. “Thanks, Shea. But, duty calls.” He gave the firefighter a nod of acknowledgment, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

“Well, go get your lady, Doc,” Phoenix said with a grin. “She sounds like a keeper.”

Ethan’s eyes softened. “She is,” he said quietly, before turning to leave the bar and head home.

#choices #pixelberry #pixelberry studios #open heart #openheart choices #ethan ramsey x mc #the royal romance #choices open heart #openheart #drake x mc

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imagionationstation · 2 months ago

Note

Is there more to Mikey's and Donnie's meeting of the SAINW story?

See, the silly part of me just wanted to type, “yes” and then post.

But I get the feeling that actually this means, “Can we see more of the moment when Mikey and Donnie meet?”

And to that I say-!

Yeah, sure, it’s just sitting in my drafts anyway.

Now I just gotta figure out where the technical ‘meeting’ begins and ends before they transition to other things…. Mmmm… Okay!

Disclaimer: This is an old first draft, unedited.

Donnie stood up just as he caught a shadow move out of the corner of his eye. He instinctively ducked behind the garbage can and peered around it to pinpoint if this was a figment of his imagination or a new danger.

The cloaking night was definitely not helping with his investigation, but he could quickly tell that whatever it was, it definitely wasn't the previous.

His hand slipped into his belt for smoke bombs as the shadow slipped about, it's movement slightly erratic and searching, and he crouched down when it near his position. He was just about to chuck the smoke bombs and bolt when the shadow spoke, it's voice barely above a whisper, yet somehow undeniably familiar.

"-promise, I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm the good guy. Seriously, I'm like, a great guy. Everyone says so. I just wanna take you somewhere safe. Swear it on a turtle's honor. I'm-"

"Mikey?"

Donnie jumped to his feet and moved out from behind the dumpster, so much hope stirring that it almost hurt. The shadow completely froze and the more Donnie stared, the more he could make out the broad shell and shape of a mutant turtle. His belt was different and now bore a vertical strap like his own, a mask framing wide baby-blue eyes that cut through the darkness, one visible arm clutching a nunchuck while the other remained hidden in shadow.

"Mikey!" Overjoyed to find one of his siblings way sooner than he could have possibly hoped, he began to move forward, only to pause when Mikey quickly put three more steps between them, moving from the shadows and into full view.

Donnie went entirely rigid when he realized that his left arm hadn't simply been cloaked in shadows, but was missing entirely, a healed over stump all that was left. His mind racing to comprehend this, he barely picked up on the way Mikey's posture seemed anxious and defensive, eyes that normally sparkled with life hardened warily.

"So... You're not dead."

"Well, I- no..."

Mikey seemed to deflate a bit at this and then looked him over again, giving Donnie the impression he was expecting him to say or do something.

Donnie could only blink as he struggled to form a coherent sentence. "What- what happened to- you? And- And New York?"

Mikey raised an eye ridge, his expression a spookily close reflection of Leo's you-can't-be-serious face. "Alien invasion, dude. Duh. You been hiding under a rock for all these years?"

His tone was unnaturally cold and Donnie had to do a double take on the last accusation. "All these...? I don't... Why would I have been...?"

Mikey stared at him for a moment as though unsure what to make of him and then shook his head dismissively. "Whatever. See ya, dude."

Wha- see ya!?

Donnie's heart launched to his throat as Mikey turned and then he bolted forward, skidding in his path almost frantically. He needed a trustworthy face to help him out. He had way to many unanswered questions and they were only piling up by the second.

Besides, why would he just up and abandon him there?!

Mikey raised his arm as if to defend himself, the movement drawing Donnie's attention to the purple clothe tied around his wrist. His eyes strayed on it before he turned back to his younger brother, who he suddenly realized was taller than he remembered. And broader.

A terrifying realization began trying to creep in and his voice trembled despite his best efforts to still it. "Mikey, wait! Please! I need your help! I don't know what's going on! I just- I woke up in the lab and- and the lair was obliterated and- and- and now the Kraang have taken over!? I mean, just yesterday the very idea of a full invasion was purely hypothetical! Please Mikey, I don't understand any of this and I need-"

"Woah, woah, dude, hold up." Donnie clamped his mouth shut as every nerve in his body went wild, his younger brother studying him as though unsure what to make of his existence. "So, what, is this, like- amnesia?"

Donnie gave a weak shrug, not quite trusting himself to open his mouth, and Mikey's expression seemed to change. A new curiosity wiped away the hardened tint that looked so out of place on his little brother's face. "Huh. Okay. What do you remember then?"

"Wa- uh, we had an argument, I got mad, went into my lab and..." His eyes widened and he quickly grabbed the strap of his bag, moving it in front of him and rummaging through it. "A Kraang device that I took went off and I- have- it- sooomewhe-here it is!"

He pulled out the smooth circle and presented it for Mikey's examination. His younger brother looked between it and him with interest, something bright and familiar appearing in his gaze. His voice lost the accusing tint. "How's it work?"

"I don't know. I was examining it when it zapped me and everything went nuts." He gingerly ran his fingers along the side as he'd done before and the rods suddenly began to spark, both brothers gasping as a electric pink began to grow in the hole before something fizzled and it vanished.

"Is that what happened last time?" All traces of angry Mikey was gone, and replaced with the giddy little brother who always came to his lab in the hopes of being wowed by a new invention.

This helped Donnie's nerves to settled and he brought it closer to his face, studying the middle. "Not exactly... There was more of a painful explosion. There must have been some kind of power surge when I hit the hidden switch, perhaps whatever this is wasn't a completed project, and now it's fried. Unfortunate, really, I would have liked to know what it did."

He glanced over to Mikey and realized he was staring at him both intently and like he'd lost his mind. He lowered the device awkwardly, wondering if he was missing something. "What?"

"How old are you?"

Distractedly, Donnie turned his attention back to the device, turning it over in his palm to study the side, wondering if he need to explain the logistics of being quadruplets again. "Sixteen, just like you."

"Dude. I'm twenty."

Donnie's entire body stiffened and he turned to him in shock. "Excuse me?"

"Gonna be twenty-one in four months. Pretty much an ah-dult." Mikey lifted his finger wisely before pointing at the device. "And you should be too, cause you've been missing for almost five years, bro. But if you don't remember it and you certainly don't look like you've grown up..."

"Bu- n-no, I-"

"That means," Mikey gushed as Donnie's mind fought against acknowledging anything or putting pieces together. "you either drank from the fountain of youth and it gave you amnesia, or that, my stammering bro, is a certified Kraang time travel device!"

"Time travel isn't possible." Donnie argued anxiously, earning a disapproving scoff. "Oh, yeah? Then how else do you explain all this? Hmm? Hmmmm!? Time travel, brah! Time! Travel!"

Donnie's mouth opened and shut without retort as things began making more sense without him wanting them to. Why he woke up alone in a demolished lab. Why the lair was a wreck. How the Kraang succeeded invading New York. Why Mikey seemed so different-

Wait. What happened to everyone else!?

"Mikey!" His younger brother stopped what appeared to be excited muttering as he paced and spun towards him. "Mikey, where is the rest of our family? Our friends? Is everyone okay?"

Mikey looked like he was about to respond when his eyes suddenly widened and he glanced up at the dark sky. "Sewer bunnies! Why didn't you tell me how late it is!? Aw man, I'm so going to be dead when he finds out!"

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deliciouskeys · 3 months ago

Text

@cozycornerevents' Kinktober 2024 prompt #7: Shibari

Homewell; AU where Madelyn didn't die in season 1 and they just continued down that path...

"N-o…"

The way Madelyn says that word is both mortifying and goes straight to his erection, even though he doesn't think he could be any harder. She says it in the tone he's heard people use with dogs, cats, maybe small children. Like he's about to get a cone around his head or be put in a corner. She pries his hands off of her and gets up off his lap.

Their sexual trysts follow a very predictable script. It's always on the couch in her office. Never at her house. The one time he showed up at her house, thinking what's allowed at work would certainly be allowed at home, she had such a cold expression while rebuffing him that he was afraid to even fly past her house to spy on her at night for a few weeks. Doing this anywhere near Teddy was off-limits apparently, and he supposes that's for the best.

When they do it, she's always on top of him, clambering into his lap and then riding him, always the one in complete control of the pace, the angle, and the depth. But no matter what she does, no matter how languidly she moves, he always comes too quickly for his own liking. Maybe not as quickly as the first time they finally did the deed. But quick enough that he always apologizes, genuinely sorry and mortified but also knowing him saying 'sorry' and looking visibly disappointed with himself triggers reassurances from her. She's never angry about him coming early. Sometimes he wonders if she looks relieved that he's done, like she was just waiting to feel his hips jerking up underneath her. She tolerates anything from him in that department, timewise. But what she doesn't tolerate is something that he still mistakenly does from time to time, when he loses himself in the moment. He doesn't know why he does it. He has no idea where the impulse comes from and even less why it became a habit so hard to break. Maybe he saw it in some pornography video he watched very early on, when he was let out of the lab and suddenly discovered a whole world of information that everyone else was constantly using and privy to. But he doesn't even remember. He knows he often did it with Maeve when she insisted on being on top, also preferring to be in control of their encounters. It was something that made him feel like he was wresting back just a little bit of control– that he was taking enjoyment by slapping her and holding her hips as if he owned them. Maeve didn't seem to mind it. But Madelyn does, and she's right to mind it. He can't deny it's a risk, letting him smack her, however gentle he thinks he's being.

She's gotten angry before, but she's never gotten off his lap and interrupted the whole thing.

"I'm really sorry," he finally musters up the words, panting, watching her walk away to her desk, a little worried that this was the last straw– that she won't allow him inside her again-- maybe ever again, his mind races with the terrifying prospect. "I- I wasn't thinking."

"Well it's very dangerous for me if you aren't thinking," Madelyn says, and she even puts her glasses back on. Why is she putting her glasses back on? Homelander can barely suppress a little whine of disappointment at the idea that his erection is just going to stay out in the cold air.

"Madelyn, please, I won't do it again. Look, I'll sit on my hands… I'll…" He looks around, desperately trying to think of what he can promise to do to atone for doing that one thing she hates.

"No, that's not enough" she says. "You cannot just do things and say you weren't thinking afterwards."

"It's because…" he trails off when he sees her coming back with a large bundle of rope. Why was that in her desk?

"Because what?" she asks, looking down at him indulgently over her glasses.

He sighs and gathers himself, folds his hands sheepishly in his lap. "Because it just feels so good to be so intimate with you."

"Thank you, Homelander, that's very kind of you to say" she says, stroking his face, and he really appreciates her never using petnames with him. "But I need to take some precautions myself. We need an early warning system. Now give me your hand."

He stares at her small, manicured hand-- it's purple nailpolish today, and she'll change it again in two or three days. She’s waiting for him to offer his hand, and he has no idea what she expects or has in mind. He thought she might be planning to tie his hands behind his back, but she seems to be asking for only one. He extends it towards her, and nearly jerks it back when she starts pulling his glove off. But he stops himself, submitting his hand to her. He's desperate to obey her to a tee right now, before giving her any more reason to end this session early.

"I need bare skin," she says as pulls the glove clean off and drops it on the floor.

He watches her, confused, as she interlaces her fingers in his. The contact makes him uncomfortable. She knows he doesn't do well with skin contact to his palms, so why is she doing this? She loops the thin rope around his fingers, and before he's aware of what's happening she has his three middle fingers in a complicated looking knot.

"What're you doing?" he asks, smiling uncertainly, trying not to look scared. He doesn't rightly know what he should be scared of, but Madelyn doing new things, asking new things of him, scares him, scares him with the thought that he'll reveal his ignorance, or not measure up in some way. So he tries to straighten out his back to look taller and more confident.

"I had a boyfriend in college who used to do really complicated rope bondage with me… relax, it was before I met you. Before I joined Vought," she adds, almost laughing.

Homelander averts his gaze, wondering what in his face gave away his immediate tension about her mention of another man. She knows him uncomfortably well.

Madelyn continues talking as she bends his hand until his forearm is right up against his bicep, wrapping the rope around, such that his arm is stuck in this bent position, fingers pulled back, forcing his hand open. "He was really into it, really skilled with the knots. He took pictures of me and it was artwork, frankly. I don't know if I can do it justice, but I still remember some of the knots and patterns he taught me. This one's called the Server's Hand."

"W-why would you be doing that?" Homelander asks, and he immediately hates how naive and straitlaced he sounds. He never went to college. He never really dated anyone except Maeve, and while she taught him a lot, he hated feeling behind. At least Madelyn is older, an authority figure in his life. At least she doesn't seem to judge him for the question.

"For me, getting rope laid on me was pretty sensual. I have no idea if it is for you– especially since you can't really struggle against the bonds like an ordinary person does. It also works better on the skin itself, but I assumed you wouldn't want to take off the top of your suit."

Homelander shakes his head. If there's one thing that was going to make this entire encounter more nerve-wracking it would be if she asked him to strip his top off. He never did except in the privacy of his apartment. Maeve made fun of him for that too.

"It's also about aesthetics," Madelyn says. "But that's probably more for me than you."

Homelander watches her start working on his other hand and lets her, trying to pay attention to the sensation, tries to see if he understands what she means about the rope itself being some sort of turn-on.

"So why're you doing it to me?" he asks, his voice still sounding smaller than he'd like. He's sitting there, very obedient, his erection flagging, but resurrecting itself every time she grabs the bare skin of his hand to maneuver it into the place she wants.

"For you? I know these ropes are like cobwebs. It wouldn't take much for you to rip right through them. But if you do, I get up and leave. Before you decide to smack me again, despite me telling you to never do that, over and over."

There it is. It is a punishment of sorts after all. Homelander would rather be sitting on his hands. This pose, now having his arms immobilized on both sides is not very comfortable, his muscles jammed against each other. But he can't very well sag against the ropes, not when she just told him not to break them. There's more rope remaining and she starts wrapping it around his neck.

"Now usually," she narrates, "it would be bad practice to tie rope around your neck. It's considered pretty dangerous unless you use specific knots that bear loads in specific ways. I’m not experienced with that and I wouldn't do it with anyone else, frankly. But I don't think we have to worry about that, right?"

Homelander shakes his head, swallowing, feeling his adam's apple move against the rope she's wrapping around his neck in several loops before creating something like a leash that she uses to pull his head forward. He doesn't have to move of course, but he doesn't want to risk the rope breaking.

Homelander tries to picture exactly what he looks like, his arms pinned up, elbows out, palms facing her, a collar and leash around his neck. But Madelyn answers his question for him.

"There we go. So pretty. Wrapped up like some kind of gift, with a bow."

Homelander swallows down a whimper. It barely counts as praise of him, when she's admiring her own handiwork, but when she says she enjoys looking at him like this, it makes him stop questioning anything about what they're doing.

She takes off her glasses and gets back on the couch, her knees on either side of his naked thighs, but she doesn't sit back quite yet, peering at him before warning him, "Now if you tear any of that rope…"

"I won't!" he retorts, and regrets interrupting her, wondering if she was going to threaten him with something sexy. But he's scared of disappointing her and he wants her to sit down again, wants to be enveloped in his warm, soft humidity so desperately. He doesn't care if some of that moisture isn't her own excitement but just the bottle of silky lube she preps herself with. She keeps it in her locked desk drawer but he can easily peer through it, can sometimes see her through the door of her office getting ready for him, discreetly, under the desk. He'd never dream of calling her out on that. Don't ask, don't tell. She wants him, she finds him attractive, and they have a bond like no one else in this whole entire company, and that's all that matters. "... I won't," he repeats, quietly.

She lowers herself down on him slowly, and he's just as hard as when she came off of him earlier. Everything feels great, is going great, and he's even got his eyes closed, until he feels her fingers touch his exposed palms.

"Nggghh, Madelyn!" He manages to mumble out her entire name after his grunt. He sounds pained but it has more to do with his sensitivity, finding it hard to sit still and not squirm his hands away.

She relents but only for a moment, and Homelander feels her grab his hands again, rubbing her thumbs into the middle of his palms, and the sensation is both uncomfortable and supremely arousing.

"M-Madelyn…" The word exits his mouth almost like a cough. He still sounds pained, and now wonders if he is, wonders where over-sensitivity ends and real discomfort begins. It's so hard to keep his hands still when they're being touched so aggressively.

"You see how it can feel when someone else is touching you without permission?" she asks, and he nods eagerly, even though he barely sees the parallel. When he slaps Madelyn it's a loss of control on his part. He's never ever seen her lose control, at least not with him around. He's seen her lose control alone, at home, using her vibrator, and he wonders if he should try being bolder, asking her if he can go down on her and try to tonguepunch her rapidly enough that she has to admit he's better than a battery powered toy. But she's always in control of herself and even of him when they're together.

At least she's stopped touching his hands, now merely petting his arms, straining in the knots not to free himself but to keep as still as possible and not break a single dainty, fragile rope.

"Do you feel good?" she asks and he nods automatically, even though there's frisson up and down his spine as his body starts anticipating that she'll touch him somewhere near his underarms, and he shudders at the thought, dreading it even it happens through the protection of the suit. But he does feel good. Anytime she's sitting on top of him is a good feeling and everything else is details.

"You look beautiful like this," she says pulling him in with the leash, his nose almost bumping into her chest, inhaling her scent which always seems to concentrate near her breastbone. She strokes his face, and runs her fingers through his hair a few times before resuming her rhythm. Homelander is instantly feeling electrified. His arms are begging to move, to hold her small body and feel ownership of it in his lap. But he stays as he is, closing his eyes, losing himself to the stimulation on his throat, on his fingers, and yes on his cock but that’s almost an afterthought right now.

His orgasm is slower in coming than he’s used to, his body confused by new sensations, and his mind preoccupied with keeping still, but once it comes he's embarrassed by the sounds escaping him. He thrusts upward, desperately, once, twice, thrice, before collapsing down in the couch, feeling more spent than usual.

Belatedly he realizes that some of the ropes holding his arms pinched have ripped and he nearly starts crying because it seems like he just keeps finding new ways of disappointing her.

But she looks down at him with a kind, indulgent smile. "I know it was hard. You did so well," she says, almost beatifically, and for once he thinks she might be sincere.

AO3 link

The "server's hand"? It looks like this:

#homewell #madelyn stillwell #homelander #cozy corner kinktober #cozy corner kinktober 2024 #the boys #the boys tv #fic #mystuff

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phantomtwitch · 6 months ago

Text

Masterpost

PhantomTwitch | 30-something | she/her

Hi! Welcome to my blog! It's only taken me over a decade to finally do this. I love cartoons and writing and all kinds of other things, and I have the kind of lame sense of humor that makes three year olds laugh hysterically and anyone older than ten roll their eyes most of the time.

This place is a disorganized disaster (kind of like my brain), with this post probably the closest thing to any sense of order I've tried to impose on it. Below are links to my various writings, as Tumblr's search bar sucks and most of you are probably members of the phandom that stumbled across one of my works somewhere and came looking for more.

(Though whether that's the case or not, you're welcome either way!)

I write a lot and genuinely love it. The only part of writing I actually hate is coming up with titles and summaries. Sometimes I get a decent flash of inspiration for a title, other times? Ehhhhh.

I'm happy to answer any asks and will, like many, happily ramble on endlessly about my fics.

I rarely post WIPs, so unless noted, all of the works below are completed as of this time and on AO3.

Danny Phantom Fanfics

Echoes

There was something wrong with Danny Fenton.

Nearly eighteen months after a lab accident left him hospitalized, his friends and family assumed he was still recovering from the side effects of his near-death experience. But after witnessing Danny do something ghostly, they begin to suspect something much more sinister is afoot and set out to save their friend from the clutches of the evil ghost possessing him.

As The Ice Begins to Crack

Little by little, as the public’s perception of him changed, Danny’s ghost form continued to reflect it. He looked more human every day, more confident, and more like the superheroes from the comics they used to read on the floor of Danny’s room as kids. As the months passed there was a moment when Tucker began to forget, to wonder if what he saw when Danny first stepped out of the portal that day was nothing more than a nightmare.

Inspired by this post on tumblr from paenling

Doubt Comes In

For InvisoBang 2023.

When Danny Fenton returns on the first day of spring after being kidnapped by the Fright Knight, something is off. His teeth are too sharp, his skin is too pale, and when he’s angry, the lights flicker as a harsh chill and the scent of ozone permeates the air as if heralding an approaching storm. There are moments when he is impossibly still, more statue than flesh, more ghost than human, and little by little everyone wonders if the child sitting in their midst is truly still Danny at all.

Scars He Hides

For Ecto-implosion 2023.

The portal accident left Danny with scars that glow whether he's Fenton or Phantom. He's done his best to hide them, but it's only a matter of time before someone finds out his secret.

Beyond the Grave

For Ecto-implosion 2023.

At the start of his freshman year, Danny Fenton disappeared. But much as Dash didn’t care and preferred to focus on football, it’s hard to avoid thinking about it after seeing Fenton dig himself out from an unmarked grave in the woods.

What We Have Been is What We Are

Based on this tumblr prompt from MadameTamma here

Maddie has a near death experience when an invention blows up on her in the lab. Her spirit is suddenly thrust from her body, and Clockwork appears to guide her down the Path, presenting her with a chance to learn from her past as her life flashes before her eyes. Little by little there are signs that she's missed something, that there's something off with Danny, and she finds herself risking her very existence to learn the truth.

So You Have Wished It

Something is wrong. Something has changed.

The signs start off so small, so easy to dismiss, but little by little it begins to spiral until Sam can't ignore it anymore and she's forced to face reality once again.

(This is a one-shot from part of a bigger AU I am working on currently)

My Body Is a Cage

For Angst Fest 2023

His friends aren't sure how much longer they can keep this a secret. Every time a ghost appears, Danny dies again. And every time Danny dies, they bring him back.

It doesn't help that no matter how much they try to explain to Danny what's happening, the truth never sticks.

Unnamed Electric Core OneShot

Currently on Tumblr only, now a bigger WIP, but this can still be read on its own. Another No One Knows AU with the ghosts being creepier than in canon.

Unnamed WIP

Currently on Tumblr only, this was inspired by yet another MadameTamma prompt where Danny does not remember being human. Body Horror fic and currently a WIP.

#masterpost #my writing

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asjad121 · 1 year ago

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skylin-files · 23 days ago

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girl code ⋆ na jaemin

pov: your best friend's former situationship started hitting you up. what could go wrong?

pairing: college student!jaemin x college student! yn

featuring! winter of aespa, nct members

note: this is part three (final part). i hope you like it; your comments will be highly appreciated. ♡

check other parts here: part 1 | part 2

── .✦

You found yourself zoning out in the cafeteria, barely touching your food, while both Haechan and Mark watched you with concern.

Winter’s silence—ignoring you and not replying for two days—wasn’t helping either. Perhaps luck was on your side, as your lab class with Jaemin had been postponed due to your professor’s flu.

Occasionally, you’d cross paths with Jaemin in the hallway. You tried to appear neutral, but the heavy weight in your stomach was impossible to ignore every time you saw him. At the same time, you couldn’t deny how much you secretly liked feeling his gaze linger on you as you turned away.

It had been two days since Mark sent the group photo and two days since you last heard from Winter.

It was the end of your final class, and as you placed the last of your things in your locker and slammed it shut, you nearly jumped at the sight of Jaemin leaning casually against the locker next to yours.

"Hey," he greeted, his voice soft. You blinked, trying to steady yourself, and whispered back, "Hey."

You watched him as he straightened up from his relaxed position, seeming to wrestle with his thoughts, hesitating before speaking.

"How are you?" he asked. His tone held a subtle weight, as though he wanted to ask more but held himself back. You hadn’t been replying to his messages like you used to, and though he clearly noticed, he chose not to press further.

"I’m okay, just busy," you answered—a tired, overused excuse. It was obvious Jaemin didn’t believe you, but he only nodded in response. "Can I get you a coffee?" he offered.

Did you want to say yes? Absolutely. But was it the right thing to do? You weren’t sure. Caught between the pull of a heart yearning for love and a mind that kept shutting it out, you felt a pang of helplessness.

"Sure," you murmured, almost to yourself, the word slipping out with a faint sense of defeat.

── .✦

"One americano and an iced caramel macchiato for Jaemin," the barista announced.

Jaemin gathered both drinks, and while you went to the restroom, he placed them at the table by the time you returned. The two of you settled into a cozy seat at a café near campus, the same place where you and Winter usually hung out. As you sat there, your thoughts drifted to your best friend, and a somber look crossed your face, which Jaemin quickly noticed.

"We haven’t seen much of each other lately," he remarked, though you couldn’t quite read his expression.

"Well, our professor has the flu," you replied. Jaemin simply nodded, taking a sip of his drink.

The silence lingered for a while, and once again, it felt like he was on the verge of saying something but was hesitating. Finally, he spoke up. "I missed you."

As you were about to take a sip from your cup, you froze for a moment, the cup hanging just a few inches from your lips.

"I missed you too, Jaemin," you replied, though deep down, you couldn't help but feel that developing feelings for Na Jaemin might be the most ironic twist fate had thrown your way.

"I want to be upfront," he started, and you could feel your heart race. "I’m not sure if you're intentionally ignoring me or if I did something wrong," he added.

"Your actions toward me have been confusing." You cut him off, attempting to conceal the real reason behind your behavior—the fact that you knew about him and Winter. As you spoke, you noticed Jaemin’s eyes soften.

"I know," he replied softly. "That’s why I’m here. I want to clear everything up."

For a moment, you found yourself wondering if what you had said was just an excuse, a way to justify your actions. Deep down, you realized that part of you was also eager to discover if Jaemin felt the same way about you as you did about him.

"The things I’ve done with you, the things I’m doing now, and the things I’m about to do—I'm not doing any of this just to be friends," Jaemin confessed. "I wanted to be clear and be 100% honest with you, because this is how it needs to be for it to work."

Hearing him speak so openly, you knew exactly where this conversation was headed.

"Your best friend, Winter... remember when you said she had a situationship here on campus?" Jaemin asked. You could only nod, finally bracing yourself to hear the confirmation.

"That was me," Jaemin admitted. You weren’t sure whether to feel heartbroken, knowing that your best friend was the failed situationship of the first boy you'd ever liked, or relieved, remembering how Jaemin had opened up about his past situationship with you.

"You told me that your first and last situationship was one of your biggest regrets. You said you didn’t want to go through it again, that it was pointless, a waste of time. That was Winter?" you asked, and Jaemin nodded in response.

Was it wrong to feel a sense of relief at his answer? He was clearly over your best friend, yet you couldn’t shake the guilt that lingered deep inside.

"I want to be completely honest with you," Jaemin said. "I like you, and if you feel the same, I’ll do everything I can to make it work. But that can only happen if I tell you this."

Both of you understood the consequences. You hadn't known that Jaemin was Winter's past situationship, and Winter hadn’t even mentioned it when you showed her the picture of you and Jaemin together. As for Jaemin, he was aware that you and Winter were best friends, but his feelings towards you all came naturally, and his intentions were sincere—what he felt for you was real.

"I'm sorry I couldn't tell you sooner, but now that what I feel for you is clear, I knew you needed to know," Jaemin said.

His words made your heart sink. You appreciated Jaemin for being honest, but at the same time, you couldn’t help but feel a wave of sadness. Winter, your best friend for years, couldn’t even face you or talk to you about it over the phone.

You never understood why girls would lose their minds over a boy, not until Na Jaemin came into your life. You could only smile wistfully, never expecting to find yourself caught up in this kind of situation.

"I actually knew since two days ago," you finally confessed to Jaemin. "Winter, she’s been ignoring me. She even soft blocked me and my friends on social media," you added, referring to Haechan and Mark.

You paused for a moment, then looked at Jaemin and said sincerely, "Thank you for talking this through with me," feeling a deep sadness in your stomach. "But I need some time," you added, almost as if you were saying it to yourself rather than to Jaemin.

He nodded in response, and you could see a smile on his face, though it carried an undertone of sadness. "I understand," he replied.

You left the café and as you walked a few blocks away, the rain began to pour. Quietly cursing, you realized you didn't have your umbrella. But when you checked your bag, you found one tucked inside.

It wasn't yours, but it looked familiar.

You sighed as you realized it must have been Jaemin's—he must have placed it in your bag while you were in the restroom.

── .✦

The rhythmic sound of the cheerleading team's synchronized movements echoed through the gym as they practiced. For the past few days, Winter had dedicated all her time and focus to cheer, as if nothing else mattered.

When practice finally ended, she sat on the benches while the rest of her teammates left. She was alone in the gym, at least until footsteps echoed in, though she didn’t initially pay much attention. It wasn’t until the footsteps stopped in front of her that she looked up from her phone—it was Jaemin.

Winter froze as Na Jaemin stood in front of her in the university gym. "Are you lost?" she asked with a chuckle, trying to mask the uneasy feeling swirling in her stomach.

"We need to talk," Jaemin said plainly. Winter couldn’t stop the frown that formed on her face, starting to piece together the real reason he was there. Jaemin wasn’t there for her—he was there because of her best friend.

"If you’re here to tell me to talk to my best friend, then you should just leave," Winter snapped, standing and hastily gathering her things.

"You’re selfish, you know that?" Jaemin’s words caught her off guard, but she continued packing, determined to ignore him.

"You cut me off when I wanted to court you properly. And now that I’ve started liking someone who’s ready to commit the way I am, you’re acting like you’re the one who’s been dumped," Jaemin said, his usual calm demeanor replaced with frustration.

"She’s my best friend!" Winter lashed out, nearly throwing her things in her anger as her voice echoed in the empty gym. Jaemin and Winter locked eyes, tension crackling between them.

"This is the first time she’s liked a guy, but I know she understands what girl code is," Winter said, her voice faltering. Even as the words left her mouth, she felt foolish. Jaemin had never truly meant anything to her; their connection had been casual. Yet somehow, her pride and ego felt bruised, as if her very identity had been challenged.

"If you wanted her to follow girl code so badly, why didn’t you confront her about it?" Jaemin shot back, his tone sharp. "Why did it have to be me telling her about us? Why did her other friends have to find out before she did? You weren’t honest with her."

"I was honest! Not entirely," Winter countered, her voice rising in defense. "But when I said you two looked good together, I meant it. You did look good together." She paused, her voice trembling now. "But that doesn’t mean it didn’t make me feel sick to my stomach," she admitted, her frustration spilling out in every word.

Her hands trembled as she spoke, guilt crashing over her. Winter felt like the worst friend, the worst person, for the way things had turned out. She hated the way she felt but couldn’t deny it.

"You two looked so good together that it started to hurt," Winter admitted, her voice heavy with emotion. "But I don’t have the right to feel that way because I was the one who cut you off. We had nothing, and I didn’t do anything to change that. I didn’t stop her from seeing you."

Winter’s frustration was palpable, but it wasn’t directed at Jaemin or her best friend—not really. Deep down, she was angry at herself, though she desperately wished she could blame someone else. The weight of her own choices and inaction bore down on her, leaving her overwhelmed with regret.

Winter felt a wave of helplessness as she locked eyes with Jaemin, her mind briefly imagining what it might have been like if she had given him a chance—if she had taken him seriously. But reality pulled her back, and she could only shake her head in resignation.

"Just take care of her," she said softly, her voice heavy with emotion.

"I know you will, but please, take care of her. She's been looking out for me for years, and she deserves someone who will do the same for her." She was referring to her best friend. Clutching her gym bag tightly, she turned and walked out of the gym.

Jaemin stood frozen in place, the sound of the gym door slamming shut echoing in the empty space. Letting out a deep sigh, he pulled his phone from his pocket.

Your name was on the screen—the call was still ongoing. You had heard everything.

Every word, every emotion in Winter’s voice, every part of the conversation. You had heard it all.

── .✦

Your lab classes had resumed, but Jaemin was no longer seated beside you. At first, it stung, but then you realized why he had moved. He was doing it for you—giving you the time and space you said you needed.

Days passed, and you could still feel his gaze linger on you when you weren’t looking. The moment you no longer sensed his eyes, you found yourself testing your luck, stealing glances at him as if trying to grow accustomed to admiring him from a distance.

It was bittersweet, almost cliché.

A sadness settled over you as you wondered: Is this your reality with Jaemin? To admire each other from afar? The thought crept in—perhaps you and Jaemin were better at yearning for each other than at actually being together.

Not long after Jaemin spoke to Winter, you received a message from her. It was brief, only a few words:

Winter: “I’m sorry. I hope I can talk to you properly soon. I love you.”

You didn’t bother replying. It was clear she wasn’t ready to have an honest conversation or fully confront the situation. And as much as it hurt, you knew you had to face it on your own.

Weeks passed, and another group task was assigned during your lab class. As usual, everyone was instructed to write their partner's name on a piece of paper.

Glancing around the room, you noticed Jaemin's seat was empty. Your grip on the pen tightened as an internal battle raged between your heart and mind. Letting out a quiet sigh, you decided to follow what you truly wanted.

Carefully, you wrote your name on the paper. Just below it, you added "Na Jaemin."

Staring at the name, you gave a small nod before rising from your seat to submit it to your professor.

"He won’t mind, right?" you murmured to yourself, hoping you were right.

── .✦

Jaemin sat in the cafeteria with his best friend, Jeno, who was happily devouring his lunch.

“Are they not eating lunch today?” Jaemin asked, glancing at his watch. He was referring to you and your friends, who usually occupied the far end of the cafeteria.

“She’s in the library,” a familiar voice chimed in, followed by the loud clatter of a food tray being slammed onto the table, startling both Jaemin and Jeno. The voice belonged to Haechan, who had appeared out of nowhere, with Mark trailing closely behind, carrying his own tray.

“Be careful,” Jeno muttered, giving Haechan a side-eye, but Haechan merely shrugged as he and Mark casually settled into the seats across from Jaemin and Jeno.

“Why are you guys sitting here?” Jeno asked, giving Mark, his classmate, a friendly grin afterward, pointing toward the end of the cafeteria where Haechan and Mark usually sat. Both Jaemin and Jeno looked at them, confused by the sudden change in routine.

"You were looking for us, right? It would be easier if we sat closer to you," Haechan joked.

"It would have been easier if you brought your friend with you," Jeno retorted, referring to you, earning a glare from Jaemin. "As Haechan said, she's in the library," Mark added.

An awkward silence settled over the table until Haechan broke it, clearing his throat to grab Jaemin's attention. "Do you still like her?" Haechan asked casually, causing Jeno to nearly choke on his food at how blunt Haechan was.

"What?" Jaemin responded, and Mark rolled his eyes at the answer.

"One of our seniors is planning to ask her out," Mark added, prompting another "What?" from Jaemin, this time it was so loud that people nearby started giving them puzzled looks.

"Yeah, so you'd better get your act together. A month is plenty of time for space, right?" Haechan teased, casually chewing his food.

"Oh, and she wrote you down as her lab partner, so I guess that's your cue to stop this silent treatment," Haechan added, prompting Jaemin to jump out of his seat, leaving his food untouched as he rushed to the library where the duo had said you were. He had only missed one lab class, and this is what he returned to.

Jaemin silently thanked his lucky stars. If he had been there, would you still have written his name as your lab partner? No one could know for sure, but he quietly appreciated the universe's strange twist of fate—giving him a headache that day, which kept him from attending the class and the calls.

Jeno simply watched his best friend dash off, shrugging before going back to his food. He then looked at Mark and Haechan sitting across from him. "So, is it true that one of your seniors wants to ask her out?" Jeno asked.

"Nope," the duo replied in unison.

── .✦

Peeking through the library, Jaemin let out a sigh when he didn't see you. You must have already left. With lab class not until tomorrow, Jaemin considered texting you but hesitated, thinking it would feel strange to reach out after a month of silence. He decided to wait until the next day instead.

As the last period ended and he walked through the campus gates, Jaemin sighed again when rain began to drizzle. He scratched the back of his neck, deciding not to waste time by waiting for the rain to stop. It wasn’t too heavy, so he kept walking, feeling the droplets on his skin. Pausing at the stoplight, he waited for the signal to turn green. That's when he noticed the rain no longer falling on him.

Looking up, he saw you holding an umbrella over his head.

"You shouldn't walk in the rain, you might get sick," you said, making Jaemin freeze for a moment as he realized it was you. The umbrella he had placed in your bag during your last meeting at the café was now in your hands.

"I don't want my lab partner missing another class," you added, trying to sound casual, but the blush on your cheeks betrayed you.

Jaemin couldn’t help but smile, a wave of happiness swelling in his chest. He nodded and reached for the umbrella, but your hand brushed against his, making him hesitate. Without thinking, he ended up holding the umbrella for both of you.

"Thank you," he said, his heart racing slightly. You could only smile in response, at a loss for words.

It had been some time since you were this close to Jaemin, feeling the warmth radiating from his body as you both shared the umbrella. Jaemin’s phone vibrated, a notification popping up. You couldn’t help but shake your head slightly, a bigger smile spreading across your face when you saw it was a message from Jeno.

Jeno: “Thank me later! She asked me about your last class.”

Jaemin smiled at the text before turning off his phone, his expression suddenly shifting to one of seriousness.

"Is it true that a senior wanted to ask you out?" he asked out of nowhere.

You looked at him, clearly confused. "What? What senior?" you replied, bewildered.

Jaemin studied your face for a moment, sighing as he realized Mark and Haechan had been playing a prank on him. "I hate your friends," he muttered, pulling you closer so you wouldn’t get wet from the rain.

── .✦

You and Jaemin resumed talking comfortably after that, with the two of you becoming lab partners again. Thankfully, Jaemin didn’t mind, and in fact, he was quite happy about it. He started sitting with you again in class, and during breaks, your friend group began sitting together with Jaemin and Jeno.

The attraction between the two of you? It was clearly still there, but now the signs were more obvious.

Jaemin no longer hesitated to hold your hand, kiss the back of your hand—whether it was randomly, out of boredom, or as a simple gesture to show his adoration for you—buy you lunch, carry your bag, and walk you home like before. He’d share his headphones with you, always finding a reason to walk by your side, even if it meant taking the longer route. Na Jaemin would take note of all the small things you liked, showing just how much he cared.

You weren’t being subtle either. Instead of admiring him from afar, you now had the chance to admire him up close as he focused on the lab report beside you. You’d make little excuses to talk to him, always try to sit next to him, finding small ways to be near him. You’d even send him little texts just to check in, and when you saw new art galleries or exhibits in town, you’d share them with him, suggesting that the two of you go visit together.

These are just a few of the many ways the two of you express your growing feelings for each other. After a few weeks, Jaemin began courting you, showing you just how serious he was about his feelings. This time, you chose to follow your heart.

Whenever you were with Jaemin, you’d find yourself staring at him for a while, watching a soft smile form on his lips whenever he caught your gaze. Every moment spent with him was filled with gestures of affection, and each one made your heart flutter with happiness.

── .✦

It was a special day—the annual cheer team competition, a major event for universities, where cheer teams from different schools came together to compete.

Your and Winter's universities were among them.

Since Winter was part of her university's cheer team, you knew you'd be seeing her today. Although you hadn’t spoken to her since her last message, you often found yourself checking her social media to keep up with her. From her posts, you could tell she’d been busy with cheer and had started partying less. You even came across a post where she had tried baking—a new hobby she had taken up to keep herself occupied. Sometimes, you wondered if she thought of you as much as you thought of her, or if she ever stalked your social media or checked in on your friends' posts to see how you were doing.

“Hi, here’s a free cupcake for you!” one of the students from another university said, offering a cupcake with their cheer team's name on it.

“Oh, but I’m from a different university,” you chuckled.

The person smiled and insisted, “This is a friendly competition! Take it.”

You accepted the cupcake with a thank you and made your way to your seat, where your friends and Jaemin were already waiting.

You glanced at the cupcake, noticing it had the logo of Winter’s cheer team on it. A soft smile crossed your face as you realized it was from her team. You missed Winter so much.

As you began nibbling on the cupcake, you shared it with Jaemin, unaware that Winter herself had baked it. She and her team had made the cupcakes for their supporters, and she knew you'd be there. Winter could only smile to herself as she watched you in the crowd, munching on the cupcake she had made.

Winter noticed Jaemin sitting beside you, opening a bottle of water for you while you enjoyed the sweet treat. This time, she didn’t feel that uneasy knot in her stomach. Her smile wasn’t bittersweet; it was genuine.

Fuck Girl Code.

Na Jaemin was truly looking after you, just as she had hoped.

"I hope you don’t think of me too much, I don’t want you to be sad over someone like me," Winter whispered to herself, watching as you and Jaemin laughed at something, Jaemin kissing the back of your hand as if it were second nature.

Suddenly, your eyes met Winter's. You were taken aback to see her looking at you, but instead of turning away or ignoring you, Winter gave you a warm smile. You returned the smile, and maybe, for now, that was all that mattered.

── .✦

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