#That and the fact that he hated going out on dates with me are why we broke up
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motorsportbarbie13 · 2 days ago
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The Yapping Hour is Upon Us
In which Max decides that maybe doing interviews isn't such a bad thing.
Warnings: jos verstappen mention ew Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 2.5k plus social media posts
TheYappingHour posted:
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349,219 likes liked by redbullracing, charlesleclerc, and others TheYappingHour Back at it this week with a very super top secret special guest. I simply can't wait to reveal who's on this weeks pod, you guys! You're going to DIE. (peep the clue in the second picture!) user928 her podcast set up is so aesthetic i can't user0928 RED BULL??? what does this meeeeeean??? >>>user1211 she hasn't done a ton of athletes in the past, maybe she got one of the Red Bull athletes!! user00291 DU DU DU DU MAX VERSTAPPEN. (shhh let me be delulu for a minute) >>>user221 as much as i'd love that, we all know how much Max hates interviews.
There was absolutely no reason why having Max Verstappen on your podcast should be making you this nervous. You’ve interviewed actual heads of state, a former president, and royalty for crying out loud and you’re losing your mind over Max fucking Verstappen? You supposed it came from the fact that you had spent most of your childhood traveling from track to track to watch your dad race in NASCAR, racing was in your blood and you knew how revered and idolized Max was. And how rabid his fans could get. You wanted to get this interview right. Needed to get this interview right. Motorsport were still a huge part of your life, even if you weren’t really outwardly an active fan. You never missed a NASCAR or F1 race and while you considered yourself a Ferrari girlie, Red Bull was most certainly your second team. 
“Everything ready?” Your assistant Shannon pokes her head in as you fluff the last throw pillow on the cream colored lounge chair. Scanning the room, everything looks to be in order. The two overstuffed chairs dominate the center of the small recording studio, each with a microphone set up on a small side table next to each chair. Instrumental versions of Taylor Swift songs floated out of small speakers tucked away and a few candles burned in the low light of the studio, creating the exact ambiance you were famous for. 
You’d been doing your podcast, The Yapping Hour, for nearly five years now and it was now one of the most popular podcasts being produced. You specialized in relaxed interviews of people that the general public don’t get to see relaxed very often. Your big break had come about 3 years ago when you had somehow managed to land an interview with Michelle Obama, her episode was still the most streamed episode of yours to date. Everyone had fallen in love with your interview style, how you got these normally highly media trained individuals to drop their guard down a little and be real for even just an hour. It gave people such a unique glimpse behind the curtain of fame and your fans ate up every bit of it. 
“I think so!” You nod, smoothing down the front of your boyfriend cut jeans even though the denim is perfectly ironed without a single wrinkle. 
“Good, because he just pulled in the parking lot.” Shannon smirks. She knows how nervous you are for this interview and is insisting it’s because you have a crush on the driver. Which would utterly unprofessional if it were true. But it wasn’t true. At all. “And he’s driving this matte black Aston Martin.” She closes her eyes as she bites her lip, smirk growing even wider. 
“Okay, let’s cool it on the hero worship.” You warn, following Shannon out into the lobby of the building. 
 Outside, it’s a dreary late April morning in the heart of downtown London. You had traveled from your home base in New York City just for this interview but had been surprised at how much you liked the ambiance and energy in the city. So much so that you had extended your stay a few extra weeks. The good thing about being your own boss of a podcast was that you could literally work from anywhere you had your laptop. 
Peering out into the parking lot, you’re surprised to see a lone figure in jeans and what looked to be a Red Bull windbreaker, hustling across the pavement towards the door. When he approaches the door, Shannons steps forward to open the door, a gust of wind whipping at your hair when Max comes bustling in through the doors. 
“Hello!” Max’s voice sends involuntary shivers down your spine, a feeling you fight hard to shove down. This is not the time to be a fan girl, you remind yourself. 
“Hi Max, thank you so much for joining us today! Can I get you some water or maybe some tea?” Shannons steps forward first, extending her hand. 
Max takes it and gives her a wide smile, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “Water is fine, thanks.” 
“Max, it’s such a pleasure to meet you.” You step forward then, the heels of your black Louboutain’s clicking on the hardwood floor as you approach him. It takes every ounce of focus you have not to react at what feels like a white hot spark flickering over your skin when his hand touches yours for the first time. 
“Pleasure is mine.” He murmurs, cat like smirk replacing the warm smile that had greeted Shannon. Your social media did you absolutely no justice and Max was finding it hard to keep his composure you were so pretty. 
“Are we waiting on anyone else or is it just you today?” You ask, eyes darting above his shoulder to see if there was anyone still in the parking lot. 
“Why? Will I be needing my body guard today?” He quips as he follows you towards the recording studio.  
You pray the dim lights in the studio hide the way you’ve gone pink. “Of course not! It’s just that normally the people I have on the show travel with an…entourage.” 
“I don’t like people.” He says, as if it’s the most obvious fact in the universe. “I prefer to travel solo. Besides, I’m no Queen of the Netherlands or Justin Trudeau, I don’t really need an entourage.” 
He casually drops two of your biggest interviews like it’s nothing and you feel the pink tinge of your cheeks heat to a crimson red. “You’ve listened to the show then?” 
He nods, taking the seat you offer him as Shannon and your AV guy Steve bustle around getting things set up. A bottle of water appears for each of you and you take out the pages of notes you’ve made even though you’ve got all the questions memorized. You like to be prepared and prefer your interviews to be more conversational, less question and answer. 
“I like to know what I’m getting myself into.” His eyes hold this glint of mischief that if you were less of a professional, would have you biting your lip and kicking your feet. Truth was, Max had spent an ungodly amount of time on your socials and wikipedia page, obsessing over you and your career. 
“And yet you still came.” You tease.
“I did.” He says simply and you can’t help but notice how his gaze briefly drops from your eyes down to your lips and quickly back up. It’s so quick that if you weren’t in the business of watching and observing people, you probably would have missed it. But those baby blue eyes of Max’s are so easy to read, all you can do is grin back at him. 
“Well, thank you for making the trek into London today. I do appreciate it.” 
You briefly explain how the interview is going to work, how Steve is going to make sure everything is set up and recording, how you’ll post audio and video versions and that he can have final say in anything that goes in or stays out of the interview. You’ve found that a lot of your guests appreciate that little clause and in the five years you’ve been doing the show only a handful of bits have been kept out. You like to think it’s because you’re good at what you do and get people to open up on a level that they feel comfortable with. 
Steve finally gives you the okay and you settle into the cozy lounge chair, Max sitting comfortably in the one opposite you. 
“Thank you again for joining me today, Max. I’ve got to admit, I was a little surprised when your manager said you’d agreed to come on the show. You don’t do a lot of lengthy interviews and I could only find a handful of podcast appearances over the years. So, why The Yapping Hour? Why now?” 
Max takes a sip of water before placing it on the table beside him. His shoulders are relaxed, his ankle sitting on his knee is a causal pose. You’ve become a veritable body language expert since starting the show and you can already tell this is going to be a good interview. 
“I like your style.” His blunt answer throws you off for a moment and your cheeks heat. Again. You make a mental note to make sure they edit your complexion in post production to take the blush out. “GP sent me the one you did with Dale Earnhardt Jr a few months ago and I was impressed at how authentic you were. Dale is a character but you got a lot of depth out of him. Your questions went beyond the typical ‘what’s your favorite race track.’” 
“Well, thank you. That is quite the compliment coming from you.” For the third time in a short time, you blush at the compliments this man is handing out left and right. 
Your eyes flicker above Max’s shoulder to where Shannon and Steve sit, their smug faces tell you that you’re not imagining him flirting with you. 
“I have to tell you, I went karting with a few friends in prep for this interview and oh my God, I’ve been sore ever since! I can't imagine how hard an F1 car is on your body. Talk to me a little bit about your training sch-…”
“You went karting as research?” He interrupts you, face a mask of disbelief. 
Now it’s your turn to smirk, “Of course, I like to know what I’m getting myself into.” You toss him a wink and enjoy the way your stomach flips when his ears go a bit pink. “My dad beat me by almost 20 seconds and I don’t think I’ll ever hear the end of it, but it was worth it. I can see why so many people get hooked, it was so fun.” 
“Karting with a NASCAR legend had to make it a little better though, yeah?” 
“You know my dad?” Your brows nearly hit your hairline, you’re so surprised at this. Your dad had been long retired before Max had come onto the racing scene and there wasn’t a huge overlap in fan bases between F1 and NASCAR. 
Max nods, “He was racing around the time Jos was in F1. I still remember that one Daytona 500 where he stole the win from Earnhardt Jr on the last lap after he’d led for the entire race.” 
You tilt your head back laughing and Max thinks it’s the prettiest thing he’s ever heard, fully entranced by the long column of your neck that’s suddenly exposed. “Oh God, dad is going to die when he hears you know about that race.” 
“Have either of you been to an F1 race yet?” A plan begins to form in Max’s head. 
“No!" You lean forward to swat at his arm playfullt. I’ve tried a few times but it’s always fallen through. I do watch most of the races though, as long as my schedule permits. Sometimes it’s easier when you guys are in Europe because the races are so early in New York, it’s easy to watch them from bed on Sunday mornings.”
The image of you wrapped up in a fluffy duvet wearing nothing but his t-shirt as you watch him race nearly sends Max into orbit. He blinks furiously, trying to get that vision out of his mind so he can pay attention to you. 
“Tell me this then, if you could pick any garage to watch the race which one would it be and why would it be Red Bull?" 
You can’t help that laugh that explodes from you then and Max preens under your attention, smile stretching wide across his handsome face. “You know, I could have sworn it was my name on the podcast Instagram page.” You tease, giving him a wink. “You keep asking me questions, I’m going to be out of a job, Verstappen.” 
“I can’t help it when the interviewer is much more interesting than I am.” He murmurs, taking another sip of water without taking his eyes off of you.
The rest of the interview continues on for the next two hours and you get so much content you feel a little dizzy at the thought of having to cut over half of the episode. For the first time in the podcast’s history, you may have to split this into two episodes. Max doesn’t mind one bit, finding that he’s not as nervous as he thought he’d be with how easy he finds it talking to you. 
You wrap up the interview over an hour past the time you had told Max’s press officer it would last but neither of you make any movement to get up, despite both Shannon and Steve beginning to wrap things up. 
“I’m so sorry I kept you this long, Max. I know you’re not a huge fan of lengthy interviews.” 
Max just shrugs, “If all interviews were like this, I probably would say yes to a lot more of them.” 
You grin over at him as you rise, realizing the sun is setting outside and your stomach is aching for food. Max follows suit, although he feels a clench in his stomach realizing that his time with you is coming to an end. 
“Can I ask you something?” He says when Shannon and Steve walk out of the studio, leaving the two of you alone. 
You look up at him and nod earnestly, “Of course!” 
“Why didn’t you ask me about my childhood? Usually it’s one of the first things people ask me, especially in these kinds of interviews.” 
You shrug, face heating at being found out. “Like you, I do my research and I figured you might not want to talk about that part of your life. I want my guests to feel comfortable when they come on the show, not immediately put on the defensive. I guess I thought there were other more important topics…” 
Your words hang in the air, heavy between you two. Something in Max’s chest aches at the simple kindness you’ve extended him. It’s true, he doesn’t like revisiting his childhood very often, especially when it’s recorded and will be put on the internet. His dad was very much still in his life, obviously, and while he had done a lot of work to move past his childhood, it was still painful to talk about.  
“Thats…wow. Thank you.” Is all he can manage, voice thick with emotion. 
“Of course.” You murmur, reaching out to touch his elbow in what you hope comes across as a comforting gesture. 
Max’s eyes drop to where your slender fingers rest on his bare arm before a smile stretches back across his face. “I know it’s kind of last minute but you were saying earlier you’d never been to a race. We’re in Miami next weekend and I’d love it if you were my guest…” 
You can’t help the flutter in your chest at how nervous he appears standing before you. Your eyes dart over to Shannon, the official keeper of your schedule and are delighted when she nods vigorously, phone in hand with your calendar already pulled up. You made a mental note to give that girl a raise ASAP. “I would love to, Max.” 
“Yeah?” He sounds almost shocked that you had agreed so quickly. 
“Yeah.” You say, a hint of a giggle at the edge of your voice. 
“How about I take you out to dinner tonight and we can work out the details.” 
“Why Max Verstappen, I had no idea you were this smooth.” 
TheYappingHour posted
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987,392 likes liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, susiewolff, and others TheYappingHour SURPRISE! Part one of my interview with none other than 3 time F1 world champion Max Verstappen is live on all socials RIGHT NOW. (yeah, I said part 1! We both yapped so much you're getting a part two next week!) user9382 the chemistry between these two was OFF THE CHARTS >>>user111 ikr? i felt like i was interrupting something the entire hour. MaxVerstappen1 it was a pleasure meeting you! can't wait to see you in Miami this weekend! >>>user2999 MAX WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN'T WAIT TO SEE HER IN MIAMI. >>>user999 stfu she is so coming to the Miami race?? MAX EMILIAN VERSTAPPEN. user3210 has she ever done a two parter before??? not even the Queen of the Netherlands got a two parter!! user9928 i don't think i've ever seen Max this relaxed during an interview EVER. >>>user222 seriously! He was like a little boy with a crush then entire time.
yourpersonalinsta posted
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234,100 likes liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, michelle obama, and others yourpersonalinsta we yapped some more and stuffed our faces. til next time, maxie! (tagged: maxverstappen1) user999 not michelle obama herself in the likes maxverstappen1 you're going to be trouble in miami, aren't you? >>>yourpersonalinsta what do you think? ;) >>>user9932 oh my godddddd user028 this is the couple i didn't know i needed
tag list (some of you only requested to be on a series tag list but i am not organized enough for that. lmk if you want to be removed!! also fingers crossed this tag list works this time ffs. sorry!)
@anilovessadbooks, @shelbyteller, @formulaal, @martygraciesversion381, @longhairkoo, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @chlmtfilms , @inarabee @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @sltwins @linnygirl09 @powerfulmess @technicallypleasanttree @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @strawberryy-kiwii @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @unknownmystery22 @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16 @leclercdream
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babyfoxflower · 22 hours ago
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I had an idea, Alastor having strange feelings around Angel Doe! reader, the reader would be an angel, sent from heaven later to help at the hotel, perhaps reader because she is an angel she is very innocent and does not see or understand why alastor acts strange around her
My Angel
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Alastor x Fem! Angel Reader
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Mentions of Murder, Jealousy, Possessiveness, No Smut (just cuz the requester didn’t ask for it)
It had been three months since Heaven sent you to help at the Hazbin Hotel, and Alastor for one could not stand it. It wasn’t that he hated or even remotely disliked you. You were a perfectly pleasant girl. A sweet little doe.
You never bothered him with stupid questions. You respected his boundaries, laughed at his old timey puns, and always greeted him with one of the prettiest smiles he’s ever seen. In fact you smiled a lot, something he appreciated probably more than anyone.
You also had the prettiest eyes, the loviest hair, the sweetest face, big adorable fluffy ears, and whenever he saw your fluffy little tail—he wanted to gently tug on it just to hear you bleat.
You radiated beauty and grace, and were beacon of warmth and comfort. Everything about you was perfect. You were a creature of God, never touched by evil or impurity. There wasn’t a single mean bone in your body.
What he couldn’t stand was this strange feeling he felt around you. It was as if he had butterflies in his stomach and his dead heart would beat faster, even occasionally skipping a beat.
What was more annoying was that you seemed completely oblivious to the what you were doing to him. At first, he thought that this was some kind of effect that angels had on others. However when he asked the others about it, none of them felt the same way he did around you.
“Sounds like you’re in love,” Vaggie said.
“Ahahaha! That’s a good one, my dear!” He laughed.
“Hey, I wouldn’t believe it either. But what you’re describing is what it feels like to be in love.”
In love? Was he really in love with you?
Sure, he felt extremely jealous whenever anyone else was taking up your time. Sure, he felt that you should only be by his side. Sure, he murdered a few sinners who were staring at you when the two of you went out for walks together. Sure, there was a time when an especially lowly wretch had the gall to ask you, the most gorgeous lady to ever live, on a date and Alastor ripped the man in half with his bare hands when you were distracted. And sure, he had frequent dreams about you where he would press you up against a wall and…
“Hmm, perhaps what that angry little woman said was true…I’m in love.”
———————————————————————
“Y/n, my dear, may I speak with you?”
“Of course!” You flashed him that gorgeous smile.
Alastor led you away to a corner where you two could have privacy. 
“What is it, Al? You look nervous.”
“Y/n, I…You’re making this more difficult by batting your lovely doe eyes at me.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” you frowned.
“No, you don’t have to be sorry. Damn it! Why is this so hard to tell you!?” He exclaimed.
“I find it easier to just blurt out whatever you need to say,” you replied.
“You’re right. I’ll just say it! I love you.”
You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, “Pardon?”
“I love you, Y/n. You’re the first thing I think of when I wake up and the last thing I think of before I go to sleep. You’re constantly on my mind, even in my dreams. I love you so much that I can’t breathe when you’re not by my side. When you walk away, I miss you even before you are out of sight. I love you.”
“You mean more than a friend, right?”
Alastor sighed, “Way more than a friend, my darling doe.”
Suddenly that smile that he loved so much returned to your face, “I love you too, my sweet stag! Everything you just said, I feel the exact same way,” you licked his cheek affectionately.
He blushed.
“Oh sorry! I forgot that you used to be human and that humans don’t tend to lick each other.”
“It’s quite alright, my love,” he licked your cheek in the same fashion, “I’m not a human anymore, my doe. I’m your stag.”
Taglist 🏷️: @2dmenforme @xghostnuggsx @alastorthirsty
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fullofwoe5321 · 2 days ago
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It's impressive how people continue insisting in label Tyler as a cold manipulative guy who never cared for Wednesday.
You guys really have to force this narrative! But with me, this is not gonna happen!
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We have SCENES where he genuinely smiles alone after talking to her or something like that.
Oh but he said he liked killing... Have you ever watched the show? Have you ever realized he was possessed by the Hyde when he said that? Have you ever realized he was on the verge of crying after the revelation? We don't know the dimension of his corruption or his Hyde, but on the show it's said that the Hyde  becomes the willing instrument of whatever nefarious agenda this new master might propose.
OH let me save you some time, Wednesday was not furious because he killed some people (AND PLEASE, he didn't kill Eugene on purpose because he was Wednesday's friend) or he was the monster. She was furious because she was outsmarted and betrayed by Tyler. The only person she opened her black little heart and he was the one who stomped it. He was the monster under her nose and she underestimated him. That's why he humiliated her with that monologue in the police station. He knew she was very competitive and the only way to hurt her was bringing that fact in to her face. By the way, ABSOLUTE CINEMA! Praises to Hunter.
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At the end, Wednesday understood very well what happened during the monologue about how Laurel manipulated and enslaved Tyler. And then we found out he was tortured, drugged, abused, groomed and corrupted in order to unlock the Hyde. So I fail to see him as the real villain.
Oh but he hated Wednesday and wanted to kill her! Excuse-me but Wednesday is not an angel: she almost killed 2 normies tossing piranhas in the pool, she said she would go further in the pranking against Xavier LOL she was about to hammer Tyler's knee if his father didn't interrupt her! And he possibly was ordered to kill any outcast before see her in the woods after Goody healed her.
Did Tyler hate her? You guys make me laugh! He hated her so much he wanted to kiss his nemesis! He hated so much he learned how to prepare that happy birthday coffee in one week! He hated her really bad that he prepared a date he knew she would like. What kind of hate is this? He saved at least 2 times as the monster and the first time was his free decision. He didn't know about her being an important key (!) to laurel´s plan.
I'm not saying here that he didn't manipulate her or lied to her. I know what he did. But he was forced to do those things! Do you really want to believe he wanted to lie for her? They really liked each other's company. It's not difficult to find the hints about how they are comfortable with each other. He loves her personality and she loves he likes her despite her personality! Isn't that obvious? They are not toxic as people keeping saying, but they were envolved in a toxic situation.
I'm really tired of people wishing Tyler's death on Twitter because they believe he is threat for Enid and the Wenclair ship. But let me save you more time because I'm genererous today: it's not gonna happen! Tyler is a main character. He is not gonna die. Wednesday has some sort of connection with him and we will find out what it is on S2. Besides that, the Hydes lore begins now. We have so much to learn and see! Let's wait.
That's it. Regards.
P.S.: I'm thinking about translating this text and transform into a thread on Twitter to bring more hate to my life from anti Tylers.
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massiveladycat · 3 months ago
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me asf with nick davis
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saintcarrionn · 5 months ago
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why do men
#UGHHHHHHH. trying to sort out room allocations for my uni house next year and. hang on i need to set the scene#firstly there's 5 of us. secondly - and crucially - in that 5 there's only one guy. we'll refer to him as housemate M#now this guy is like a little brother to me. i love him. he's great. our sports club thinks we're either cousins or dating. great guy#apart from one tiny issue: he's got mad only child syndrome despite in fact having an older sister#so he doesn't want to share. he doesn't want to compromise. he especially doesn't want to take one for the team and have the small room#that no one wants bc it's small and doesn't have a mirror. this is where the guy thing comes in bc the rest of us are all girls#and we each Need Mirrors. we also just Have More Stuff. and not to be a misandrist but he's a man how much space does he really need#so this is already a problem bc we've taken months to even get to the point where we're actually figuring this out#and now!!!!!! housemate M is being obstreperous!!!!!!! he refuses to take said small room!!! he wants a big one!!!#he's forcing housemate Z to give up the room she originally wanted and making her take the small room!! he's being a dick!!#and i HATE THIS bc i KNOW what's going to happen#I'M going to have to take one for the team and take this miniscule room that won't fit my stuff and will doubtless trigger my claustrophobi#just so HE can be comfortable!!!#this is making me so mad. this is making housemate Z so mad. why are men like this. he's not even 19 yet get a GRIPPPP#BECAUSE ALSO!!!!! housemates M and H did JACK FUCKING SHIT for this house. they contributed ZERO to this whole process#me and Z and J did EVERYTHINGGG. so why are me and Z now being forced to compromise??????#I HATE LIVING WITH OTHER PEOPLE. SHOOT ME IN THE HEAD#uni life#<- if it doesn't KILL ME FIRST#2nd year
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gothgoblinbabe · 2 months ago
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The Art Of Make-believe Matrimony
Logan Howlett x fem!reader
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Summary: You can’t stand each other, so it’s a mystery to you and Logan why you’re sent out together on an assignment. To make it worse, you’d have to act much closer than you really were.
Warnings:  mutant!reader (no specific power mentioned, though), fem!reader, enemies to lovers, swearing,  fake dating (technically fake marriage), mentions of violence, a little bit of suggestive stuff, a little bit of fluff i guess, and mild alcohol consumption. I think that's all but if i missed any, please let me know! also this is def loosely inspired by the movies 'Mr. and Mrs. Smith' and '10 Things I Hate About You'
Word Count: 5K
part 2
・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆・˳ . ��� .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆・˳ .
You hate the way he dresses.
You hate his stupid hair.
You hate the pet names he calls you.
You hate his voice.
You hate his hazel eyes.
You hate his smile.
You hate Logan Howlett.
It was no secret and neither was the fact that he couldn’t stand you either. You bickered like a married couple, constantly fought till you bled when you were training and couldn’t go a day without one of you insulting the other. Truthfully, it was probably because you were too alike - fire versus fire - and knew exactly how to press each other's buttons.
That’s why you were both confused when you stood in Charles’ office - dumbfounded expression on your faces - as he told you that he assigned you to a mission together.
“Oh, no way,” you nearly laughed, thinking it was a joke.
“Yeah, not happening,” Logan agreed. It may have been the only thing you’ve ever agreed on.
“That’s unfortunate for both of you, as I am sending you anyway. You are the only capable people that aren’t already out on an assignment or teaching a class full time.”
“How do you expect us to do it without killing each other?” you raised your eyebrows.
“You are adults. I trust you will navigate that on your own.”
Logan scoffed beside you, his arms crossed over his chest.
You sighed, closing your eyes in frustration and biting the bullet, “what do we have to do?”
“There is a safe hidden in the home of a very wealthy socialite who’s been involved in orchestrating attacks on mutants - injecting them with a serum that replaces their mutation gene with that of a normal human,” Charles began to explain.
Your chest felt heavy. It always made you anxious and a little ill when you’d hear the stories of people who hated you so much that they’d go as far as to harm or violate you in some way, all in the name of trying to rid the earth of you completely or turn you into one of them.
“The only known sample of the serum is locked in that safe,” he continued, “and I will need you to retrieve it. You are to infiltrate a gathering being held in her home, obtain the contents of the safe and return promptly.”
“So, we’re…going to a party?” Logan asked with one eyebrow raised.
“A dinner party,” Charles replied, “and another thing - you must not attend as yourselves. You’ve been invited on the good word of another guest - someone we trust - but you’ve been invited as a married couple to avoid arousing suspicion.”
He must’ve been getting some sick enjoyment from this.
“Married couple,” you repeated, your eyes narrowed, “Us. You want us to pretend to be a couple.”
“What, do I have to like - touch her? I’m not doing that,” Logan piped up.
“Oh, i’m so disappointed,” you rolled your eyes, sarcasm clear in your voice, “Fuck off.”
“You fuck off.”
“No, you fuck off.”
“No, you.”
“I said it first!”
“Enough,” Charles interrupted, “you will be attending as Mr. and Mrs. Smith.”
“Huh,” Logan hummed, “that’s creative.”
“Its inconspicuous,” he replied.
“What are our first names, then?”
“You have creative liberty. I trust you will come up with something just as unremarkable.”
“How about Sid and Nancy?” you scoffed, chuckling a little in disbelief. 
“Does that mean I get to stab you?”
“You’d miss.”
Charles had his head in his hands.
“How about Jack and Jill?”
You both turned your heads to him when he spoke, pausing the back and forth between you that you were sure to continue later. You glanced at Logan and shrugged, indifferent to the names.
“That’ll work,” Logan mirrored your actions.
“Lovely. Tomorrow evening at five. I will have the address ready. In the meantime, here,” he opened his palm and placed two rings on the table, “these are your wedding bands.”
You huffed and took the smaller of the two, Logan picking up the plain silver band. Yours was simple - a false diamond in the middle and two smaller ones on each side.
“What, you couldn’t get me anything bigger?” you joked to Logan, holding up the ring. 
“Oh, you want somethin’ big?”
Your eyes went wide and you elbowed him in the arm, groaning in disgust, “Gross.”
—----------------
Five o’clock came fast, your nerves seemingly increasing the speed of time. You’d made a mess of your wardrobe looking for something to wear that was comfortable, but not too ‘you’. What would a rich person wear to a dinner party? How the hell were you supposed to know?
Some nice pants, a blouse and complimenting shoes would have to do - it was the only thing you had that looked relatively formal. Adding some jewelry made it just a little more convincing. 
You went down the stairs to meet Logan at the front door, dreading the coming hours. You turned the corner and finally saw him, leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets. He wore a white t-shirt tucked into his jeans, his boots, and he’d traded his usual leather jacket for a suit jacket. He actually cleaned up pretty nice, but you weren’t gonna tell him that.
He heard your footsteps and turned towards the sound. He could feel the sweat starting to form at the back of his neck. 
He’d never seen you in anything nice like that - you never really had any occasions to dress up for - and he hated how much he liked it. Your pants hugged you perfectly, your blouse was buttoned low and you even had on a little bit of makeup. 
“You don’t look too bad,” he managed to comment, opening the door for you.
“That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” you realized aloud, the both of you heading towards Logan’s truck, “You look alright.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Smith.”
“You’re welcome, Mr. Smith.”
He opened the car door for you, uncharacteristically gentlemen-like.
You shot him an odd look and got in anyway.
“I’m practicing,” He explained, shutting your door and walking around to slide into his seat, “can’t have anyone thinkin’ I’m a shit husband.”
“Good luck.”
“Uh-oh,” Logan had an amused expression, his eyes glued to the road as you began moving, “that’s not wife behavior, sunshine.”
“Bite Me.”
He clicked his tongue, “Feisty. Oh - I can use that when people ask about us! I’ll say it's one of your absolute worst qualities that any man would be repulsed by, but that our love is blind.”
You scoffed, “Great, and I’ll get to tell them you spend sixteen hours brushing your hair into cat ears and shed all over the bathroom like an animal.”
“See - now, that one seems a little personal.”
“It is.”
“Just pretend for a night that I’m the man of your dreams, okay?” he asked, “pretend I’m, uh - I don’t know, some celebrity guy you have a crush on.”
You were silent for a second, engrossed in thought, “you look nothing like Hugh Jackman.”
“Who? You know what - sure, pretend I'm him, alright? Just squint.”
Truthfully - and you’d rather be stabbed than admit it - Logan wasn’t far off from who you could picture yourself with. Strong, kind of handsome, good with kids. He was humble, most of the time. He was just terribly annoying and way too cocky.
It wasn’t long before he was shifting the truck into park and yanking the keys from the ignition. You let him open your door and walked beside him up the front steps.
“You ready, Jack?” you teased.
“Ready as I’ll ever be, Jill.”
He rang the doorbell and you stood awkwardly, eyes scanning your surroundings. The house was huge - probably only a bit smaller than the mansion - and modern, something probably built in the last ten years. The front lawn was impeccable, as were the marble statues strategically placed between foliage and flora. 
The door opened and you inhaled sharply, trying to prepare yourself to lie your ass off.
“Hello! You must be Mr. and Mrs. Smith! So lovely to meet you, please - come in,” a woman ushered you in, her neck and ears decorated in pearls. You recognized her immediately, Charles having shown you both a picture of the hostess beforehand. You politely greeted her and introduced yourselves, already scanning the room for an emergency exit in case things went sour.
“So,” she continued talking, leading you to sit in the living room with the other mingling guests,”tell me a little about yourselves! John wasn’t very descriptive when he mentioned you. What do you do for work?”
Whoever John was, you silently thanked him.
“Uh, well,” you began, nervously glancing at Logan, “I’m a bank teller.”
Plain, boring, inconspicuous, 
She then looked to Logan expectantly, awaiting his answer. 
“Cage fighter.”
Jesus Christ. You were glaring daggers into the side of his smiling face and he pretended not to notice.
“Really?” the woman in front of you inquired, a hand on her chest. You watched her eyes scan him up and down, landing on the pecs prominent through his shirt. You scoffed out of instinct, faking a cough to cover it up.
‘Oh, yeah. Undefeated MMA champ.”
You looked away to hide the scowl on your face when your eyes locked on the vodka bottle sitting on the table a few feet away with a collection of other booze. Bingo.
“Will you excuse me for just a moment?” you smiled politely and walked away before Logan could protest, leaving him to his own devices.
You twisted the top off the bottle and picked up a glass, filling it with Vodka and some soda that was left on the table.You almost walked away with it, planning to keep it in your hands until you felt your nerves subside, until you remembered you were supposed to be a wife. Wives brought their husbands drinks, right? Not doing so would look rude and rude might blow your cover. So, you reluctantly picked up another glass and filled it partially with whiskey, knowing it was something he’d drink. You happened to glance across to the kitchen and notice a neat little rack of spices and condiments on the counter. A bottle of soy sauce was front and center, like a message from the universe, and you giggled to yourself as you snatched the bottle and hid it up your sleeve - this could be a good night if you made it entertaining.
You returned to Logan with both glasses, handing him the one filled with significantly darker liquid. He looked a little surprised but accepted it anyway.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” he said with narrowed eyes, a look that asked ‘what are you up to now?’
You simply nodded in acknowledgement, smiling at the hostess still standing in front of you.
“She’s a keeper,” he continued, holding the glass up to his mouth, “ always knows exactly what I like.”
You bit back a snicker as you watched him tilt the glass and finally take a sip.
His eyes went to yours immediately.  He pulled the glass from his lips, mouth still obviously full of whiskey and soy sauce. If looks could kill, you’d be long dead.
“Good, honey?” you smiled wide then, taking a sip of your own drink. 
“Mhm,” he hummed, clearly fighting a grimace. He swallowed and nearly gagged, coughing into his fist, “mhm, just a little strong.”
“Oh,” the hostess began, “Jack was just about to tell us how you met!”
A couple of guests had gathered in the same spot, all lingering in a semicircle. Logan was quite the charmer and it wasn’t a surprise that he already had a couple of women gawking at him, hanging on his every word as if any of it was true. 
“Was he?” your tone was shrill but you attempted to appear playful, lightly smacking him on the arm, “Oh, honey, you should really let me tell it.”
Whatever he was about to come up with, you hoped it was not in the same outlandish category as cage fighting. Before you could begin, though, he dismissively waved his hand in your direction.
“No, no - you’re a little forgetful, sweetheart,” his grin was mischievous as he turned to speak to the surrounding guests, “so, it all started with a tshirt competition at a bar where the girls had to - “
“Nope! Nope,” you interjected, doing your best to keep your tone light and shaking your head, “haha - that must have been another girl, honey!”
That earned a few chuckles from the guests around you and you took the opportunity while everyone's attention was on you to try and spin a tale of your own.
“So, we actually met a couple years ago,” you started, mulling over what true details to sprinkle in or if you should make it up entirely, “uh - in a library.”
It wasn’t entirely untrue. You’d been at the mansion for a couple days before you bumped into him in the library while gathering books to try and put together your first lesson plan. You had a cup of coffee in one hand and a stack of books in the other - admittedly stupid - but you’d always been careful. Except for that once. 
You had a book open in your arms, resting atop the stack you already gathered. You were walking and reading - again, admittedly not very smart - when you bumped into someone, spilling coffee on both of you and sending the stack of books to the floor with an audible thump. 
“Fuck, sorry -” you began to apologize, finally looking up to the strangers face. It was Logan, of course, though you didn’t know that at the time. You remember thinking he was handsome with his scruffy mutton chops and well groomed hair - until he opened his mouth.
“What the hell is wrong with you, kid?”
You knew it was partially your fault but were irked by his attitude.
“Dude, you weren’t paying attention either, obviously!” you snapped back, looking down at the beige stain now adorning your white button up.
“I’m not the one who carries coffee and a shit ton of books at the same time.”
“Whatever.”
That was your grand introduction, neither of you even exchanging names.
Logan remembered it about the same way you did, though the version he tells is a little different. He loved to tell people that when you bumped into him, it was because you were so lovestruck that you just walked right into him. The part he always left out, though, was the first thing he thought when he saw you. He’d scolded you before even looking up to see who you were and when he had, he wished he’d reacted a little differently. 
You were beautiful, even with coffee spilt all over yourself. You looked like a girl he’d only ever dreamed of, all the way down to the color of your hair and eyes. Unfortunately, he’d already been an asshole. So, from then on, that was basically your shtick - bickering over little things, calling each other names - all to the amusement of everyone around you. It wasn’t meant to be funny, but it was obvious to everyone else that the kind of teasing you did was only because you had feelings for one another - like two elementary school kids - and neither one of you seemed to know how to approach it. The mask would slip sometimes for either one of you - when he’d place a hand on your lower back, the times he’d managed to pin you to the mat during training - and you’d always find yourself staring at the ceiling that night, overthinking every interaction you’d had until the sun came up. He was never any better off, pacing in his room to try and decipher what the hell it was he actually felt for you.
Anyway, you decided to stick to the real story, minus the part where you insulted each other.
“We bumped into each other, literally, and I had coffee and a bunch of books in my arms. So, I drop the books, coffee spills everywhere - of course. Then I looked up at him, and..” you paused, the truth caught in a lump in your throat.
“And it was love at first sight,” Logan added, grinning down at you, “for both of us.”
His eyes were trained on yours and he continued to contribute to the story.
“The second I saw her, I fell in love.”
He was still looking at you. Why was he still looking at you like that? You were supposed to be husband and wife, right, but he was leaning into it far heavier than you expected. It felt like you were the only ones in the room.
A couple ‘aw’s were shared between guests and you smiled politely at the reminder that you were in fact not the only people in the room. As the conversation switched to another topic and someone else began to speak, you felt Logan’s hand at the back of your head, gently playing with your hair. Your face was pink - he was being too nice.
A short while later, you were sitting on the couch beside him, listening to someone’s drawn out story that you stopped paying attention to after six minutes.
“I’m gonna go take a piss,” Logan uttered unceremoniously and stood from the couch. He disappeared into the house and not even a minute later, another guy came to sit in his spot.
“Hey,” he put his arm around the back of the couch, his fingertips brushing your shoulder, “I don’t think we’ve met.”
You looked at the fingers grazing your shoulder and sat forward to shrug them off, “nope.”
He told you his name and you couldn’t have cared any less, deciding to actually tune back into the story being told rather than converse with him. He was alright looking, but his approach was far too off putting. 
“So, did you come alone?”
You rolled your eyes at his question, opening your mouth to answer before he cut you off.
“Cause It looks like it, and I can’t stand to see a pretty girl alone.”
You groaned in disgust, hoping if you were dry enough in your answers, he’d leave you be.
“mhm.”
It wasn’t really an answer to anything, just a noise of affirmation. You hoped he’d get the hint then, but of course, he didn’t. In what would probably be the stupidest thing he’d done that night, the guy moved his arm from the back of the couch so he could squeeze your thigh. Right as you were about to tell him to fuck off, you saw a hand grip his shoulder from behind. Logan was leaning over the sofa, bringing his face a little lower so he wouldn’t cause a scene, his dog tags hanging when he leaned forward. He had a death grip on the guy's shoulder while he used his other hand to steady himself against the sofa. 
“Hey, bub.”
The guy looked a little terrified, to say the least, but Logan didn’t let up there.
“Do you always go around hittin’ on people’s wives? Or is it just mine?”
His eyes were wide and he looked like he wanted to run but that wasn’t going to happen as long as he was in his grip. 
“I-I didn’t, uh, I didn’t know she - “ the guy sputtered, trying to nervously laugh it off.
“Mhm. Hey, tell you what - why don’t you leave my girl alone and maybe I’ll give you a five minute head start to get the fuck out of here.”
He let go of his shoulder and that was enough to drive him away, the guy scurrying to his feet and finding somewhere else to mingle.
You didn’t know why you found yourself smiling the moment he’d said ‘my girl’. You rid yourself of it with a shake of your head, reminding yourself you were there to do a job.
“Hey,” Logan leaned himself down even further so he could whisper, “I gotta show you something, c’mere.”
You quirked an eyebrow at him but got up to follow. He stopped in the hallway in front of the bathroom, looked around to see if anyone would notice you, and promptly dragged you in with him before closing and locking the door. He hit the light switch and you looked around.
“Do you always take girls to the bathroom on first dates?” you teased, crossing your arms.
“You’d have to go out with me to find out,” he remarked, “besides, it’s not like that. Look.”
You watched him get low to the ground to open the cupboard under the sink and you crouched with him, following his pointing finger to the wood paneling in the back. It looked like a fake back - a board that appeared to be the back of the cabinet but definitely had something behind it. There was a sliver of metal visible behind it when you shined your phone’s flashlight.
“I figured we should look everywhere, so while I was in here I was checking it out - saw that. You think that’s it?”
“Could be,” you answered honestly, “that, or it’s some sort of electrical box we’re about to rip out of the wall. It’s an odd hiding spot for a safe.”
“Not really. Think about it - where's the first place you’d look for a safe?”
“Bedroom or office, maybe.”
“Right, and where's one of the last places you’d check?” he gestured to the open cabinet.
“Under…the sink,” you realized aloud, looking between him and the wooden board. 
“Exactly,” he nodded, swiping the contents of the cabinet onto the floor to gain access, “here’s the thing, though - I’m too big to get in there.”
He could maybe stick his head in, but in order to duck under the pipes from the sink, he’d need to have shoulders that were much less broad.
You sighed, knowing what that meant.
“Alright, alright - move. This better be it.”
You reluctantly crawled under the sink and into the cabinet on your hands and knees. You yanked the wooden board with all your strength and it came free, revealing a metal safe.
“Got it! You were right, it’s the safe.”
Logan simply hummed in response, clearing his throat. You figured he’d be a little more enthusiastic. 
Truthfully, he was too busy staring at your ass in the nice pants you were wearing to pay attention. When he heard your voice, he shook his head, as if to rid himself of the thoughts he was having about you so he could think of a response. He’d always thought you were beautiful, but seeing you all dressed up drove him a little crazy.
“Yeah? Is it locked?”
You inspected the metal box, holding the absurdly large padlock hooked around the latch that opened the door.
“Uh-huh. Padlock - we’re gonna need the numbers.”
“No, we don’t. Bring it out.”
You did as you were told, crawling back out with the safe under your arm and placing it on the bathroom rug. It was a pretty small one - probably a little bigger than a basketball.
Logan picked it up and set it on the counter beside the sink. He unsheathed a claw and sliced through the metal latch that held the door closed in one swift motion.
“Well, yeah - that's one way to do it,” you shrugged.
“Easiest way to do it.”
He reached in and took out the small glass vial. He put it inside the pocket of his suit jacket.
“What if it falls out?” you asked.
“It won’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Alright, kid,” he sighed, “what do you want me to do with it? ‘Cause i’m sure as hell not lettin’ you carry it.”
You rolled your eyes and looked him over.
“How about you wrap it in your jacket, like cushioning?”
“Fine.”
He reluctantly shrugged off his jacket, keeping the vial in the pocket but folding the jacket into a ball. You hastily replaced everything in the cabinet, safe included, and you followed Logan as he opened the door to step out - only to be met with another guest, her fist raised to knock.
“Oh! Dear,” she chuckled, clearly a little startled. She looked to the both of you, a grin appearing on her face, “Young love, what a gift. Don’t worry, I didn't see a thing!”
You shot her a confused look, chuckling nervously before you happened to catch a glance of your reflection in the bathroom mirror.
Your hair was mussed and your blouse was untucked on one side from having to bend up and down. Logan had taken off his suit jacket and you realized what it was she was implying.
“Oh, oh - we weren’t -”
“It’s alright, honey,” she responded as you stepped out, “like I said - my lips are sealed.”
She shot you both a wink, went into the bathroom and shut the door.
“She thought we were fucking in there,” you mumbled, eyes wide in embarrassment.
“Is that so bad?”
You snapped your head towards him, a confused look on your face, “what?”
Logan shrugged, “we're supposed to be husband and wife, aren't we?”
You shook your head in disbelief and decided to ignore him, both of you joining the other guests back in the living room. Dinner was finally ready and everyone took their seats in the dining room. There were a couple of things on the table you couldn’t even pronounce.
“Is that…meat? A vegetable?” you leaned over to logan, whispering behind your hand and nodding towards one of the dishes.
“Hell if I know,” he muttered, “I don’t think I wanna find out.”
You both piled on the few things onto your plates, poking at it with your forks.
“Do you wanna get a pizza after this?” you whispered.
“Definitely,” he replied, pushing around an unrecognizable sludge with his utensil.
“So, how long did you two say you’ve been together?” You both looked up, only to be met with the hostess’ stare. You had never mentioned how long you’d been ‘together’. Her smile was polite but her stare was piercing, as if she knew something she was not supposed to.
“About three years,” you replied, looking to him for back up.
“We got married a couple months in,” he added, grinning at you. Again, he had that look - like he wasn’t just pretending to be in love with you. 
“We were in this restaurant - this little place we go to all the time,” he kept talking, “and I just told her I thought she was beautiful, that I wanted to be with her for the rest of my life.”
“Really? I have to say,” she began, sipping from her glass,” for a young couple who got together so quickly, you two don’t seem very affectionate towards each other.”
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
You shot Logan a panicked look, but he appeared unbothered.
“Ah,” he clicked his tongue,” it’s this rule she’s got about PDA. I’d be all over her if I could.”
You hated the way your face became hot. You couldn’t tell if he was leaning into it to be convincing or flirting just to make you flustered. You heard a muffled snicker from somewhere across the table and your eyes shifted to the source - it was the woman from earlier, the one who’d thought you and Logan were getting busy in the bathroom. 
“Can I at least get a kiss, babe?” Logan cooed, a smug look on his face.
“What are you doing?” you whispered, eyes wide.
“Being a husband,” he replied in a hush voice. 
It all happened within seconds. His hands cupped your face, warm and soft, and he leaned in to plant a kiss right on your lips. It was gentle and you melted into his touch, kissing him back. When he pulled away, you were still stunned, your lips parted in surprise. 
Logan kissed you.
His lips tasted like the remnants of cigar smoke. His touch was nearly intoxicating, like you were drunk off just the way he held you. You inhaled sharply and finally turned your face out of his grip, eyes glued to the table cloth. You had almost forgotten where you were - feeling like the room was spinning - and you let out a nervous laugh.
The topic of discussion moved on quickly and it seemed like any suspicion the hostess had about either of you had dissipated. You and Logan decided to say your goodbyes immediately after dinner, making some excuse about having to wake up early the next morning. When you stepped out and he shut the door behind him, you couldn’t hold your tongue any longer.
“What the hell was that?” you spat, eyebrows knitted. 
“What was what?”
He was completely nonchalant as he continued to walk next to you towards his truck. 
“You kissed me.”
“I did.”
“You didn’t have to.”
He stopped with you at the passenger side of the truck, standing in front of the door so you couldn’t get in.
“What if I wanted to?”
You swallowed hard. It was dead silent outside, save for the chirping of crickets.
“What?”
“I wanted to,” he admitted, chewing his bottom lip, “I wanted to kiss you.”
You didn't know what to say. He hated you, didn’t he?
“Logan, I - “
“You can’t tell me you didn’t feel anything in there, pretending to be together.”
His voice almost sounded strained, like he was pleading.
“You don’t even like me, you hate me,” you deflected, but he shook his head.
“That’s not true. I never hated you. I figured you’d hate me after I acted like an asshole when we met, so I went with it. I don’t hate you. I think you’re funny, I think you’re pretty - I just never really knew how to tell you that.”
When you only stared in response, he moved aside and opened your door with a defeated sigh. You were still speechless but you hesitantly slid into the seat anyway, letting him close the door. When he got into the driver's side and started the ignition, you couldn’t stop looking over at him.
“So, you like me,” you finally said aloud.
He kept his eyes glued to the road when he responded in a low voice, “why do you think I bother you so much?”
“You pick on me because you like me? Like a little kid?” you couldn’t help the amusement in your voice as your confused expression turned to a smile.
You saw him bite back a smile that mirrored yours, shaking his head.
“I guess you could say that.”
“Well, you’re not too bad, you know, and I guess you’re kind of handsome.”
“Oh, really?” 
“Mhm, but don’t make me take it back.”
The rest of the short ride home was spent in comfortable silence, both of you seemingly trying to figure out where you’d go from there. When Logan parked his truck and got out, he came around your side to open your door. You hopped out and he shut the door for you, but grabbed your hand before you started to walk away.
“Hey, c’mere for a second.”
You let him pull you a little closer, intertwining both your hands. The evening air was chilly and you could see his breath in the air when he spoke.
“Can I kiss you, for real this time?”
You could feel your heart beating fast and you nodded eagerly. The second you did, his lips were already on yours. His hands let go of yours to settle in your hair, threading the strands between his fingers. His touch felt warm in comparison to the cold air and you leaned further into him with your hands gripping his jacket to pull him close. When he pulled away, he rested his hands on your waist and planted another kiss on your forehead. 
“Maybe we could, uh, try again,” he cleared his throat, running his hands up and down your sides, “be nice to each other this time.”
Truthfully, you couldn’t hate Logan, even though you tried. 
You couldn’t hate his perfect hair.
You couldn’t hate his sweet voice.
You couldn’t hate his kind smile.
You couldn’t hate the way he dressed.
You just couldn’t hate Logan Howlett. 
So, you kissed him again, smiling against his lips and letting him hold you as close as possible, almost lifting you off the ground with his arms around you.
“We should probably go inside, huh?” you mumbled when you leaned back, lightly scratching the mutton chops on the side of his face in an affectionate manner. Those were another thing you’d pretended to hate - probably because you were embarrassed to admit you thought he pulled them off well.
“As you wish, Mrs. Smith.”
He held his hand out for you to take and you did, eyeing the ring on your finger.
“You know,” you held up your hand to show him the jewelry, “I think i’ll keep this.”
He grinned, bringing your knuckles to his lips and leaving a chaste kiss, “I think i'll keep mine, too.”
You were both still holding hands when you went inside, blushing like two little kids. You were so engrossed in one another that you didn’t notice Jean and Ororo in the hallway ahead of you as he leaned down to kiss you again. Now that he knew he could actually do it, he couldn’t help himself.
“I’ll take it your night went well,” Ororo giggled, Jean doing the same. You jumped a little in surprise, covering your pink face in mild embarrassment. 
“What changed? I thought you hated each other,” the latter of the two asked.
“Eh, he’s not so bad,” you teased, shrugging your shoulders.
‘’Turns out, we make a pretty good fake husband and wife,” he explained, “I guess we got a little too carried away with it.”
As the two of you walked hand in hand further down the hall, Ororo elbowed Jean lightly, leaning over to whisper behind her hand.
“You owe me twenty bucks.”
・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆
A/N: If you've made it this far, thank you sm for reading!! I wasn't sure if I wanted to keep this as is or add smut so I'll leave it how it is and if enough people ask for it, I can make a part two <3 pls reblog and like if you enjoyed/want more and my inbox is always open :)
Edit: here is the link to part 2!
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aperrywilliams · 6 months ago
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That Wasn't Fake (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)
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Author Masterlist
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.
Request: Can you write a Spencer fic where the reader is kind of quiet and shy when she begins working at the BAU, and Spencer has a crush on her, and then they have a case, and she has to like to seduce the unsub lowkey and everyone kind of like...how is she going to do this shes not very outgoing but when she does shes really good at it, and everyone is surprised and impressed.
Summary:  You're shy and reserved. Spencer has a crush on you, and unbeknown to him, you have a crush on him. Maybe the cat can get out of the bag when you have to step aside of your comfort zone to catch an elusive unsub.
Word Count: 4.2k (no self control here)
Warnings: Words like 'fuck' and 'bitch'. A rant about self-doubt. Typical CM stuff: unsubs, killings, etc.
A/N: Another request I loved! It should have been a little shorter, but I'm having a hard time getting to the point these days. Please keep sending requests!
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Spencer knows it is inappropriate, but he can't help it. You're coworkers, and that itself sets a boundary, so he shouldn't be thinking of trespassing.
But the crush he has on you seems to grow every day.
He doesn't know if it is your beautiful smile, the kindness you show in everything you do, or the enthusiasm you put into every task you are committed to. Since the moment he saw you pass the bullpen glass doors, Spencer knew he was damned.
From that moment, Spencer knew he wanted to know you and learn everything about you. About what you liked, what you hated, and what your fears and dreams were. Everything.
But not much after that revelation in his mind, he understood it wasn't going to be easy to get to you.
You were extremely shy and reserved.
In fact, your first interaction - when Emily introduced you both - consisted of a wave of your hand and a timid 'nice to meet you.'
He thought as time went by, you would loosen and become less bashful and quiet. And in part, he was right. As the months passed, you began to feel more comfortable within the team. You laughed at Luke's jokes, you commented on Rossi's stories, and you could even - when the stars aligned - crack a joke yourself to Tara or Matt.
But beyond that, no one knew much about your life outside of the BAU, unlike JJ, who always talks about her kids and her husband, or Matt, who talks about his kids, too. Or Tara, who recounts her failed dates. Or the same Luke who always shows photos of Roxy.
You, on the other hand, seemed to be an enigma. But Spencer Reid loved decoding enigmas.
At first, he turned his interest in you out of mere scientific curiosity. However, internally, he knew it wasn't just that.
It started with small random questions about the times you worked together: Is this coffee okay? What was the last book you read? Do you think we should buy some donuts for the team?
If you were honest, it picked your interest why, from all people, Dr. Spencer Reid was so adamant in making conversation with you.
From what you knew and from what the team said, Spencer was not a person very interested in things other than work or books. But suddenly, out of nowhere, he asked you what the last movie you saw was or something like that.
You always answered his questions; however, you would have liked to be much more talkative and engage in longer conversations, but your nature stopped you.
'What if I don't have anything more interesting for him to say?'
'Does he just talk to me because he feels sorry for me?'
And that was the big issue: you have never had problems with the way you live your life. You're pretty satisfied with what you do in your job and out of it, too. But you have always thought you are too 'simple' to entertain people's interest.
And to be honest, being surrounded by people with so much experience and big things happening in their lives still intimidates you a bit. So, you usually refrain from talking too much about yourself or anything for that matter.
But with Spencer, things are a bit different. He's always checking on you but respects your boundaries. He has learned that sometimes you just don't want to talk, and he doesn't push.
Despite his interest beyond the professional, Spencer would never do anything to make you uncomfortable. Being able to share time with you will have to be enough for him.
In a way, he has become your protector. He is your backup during interrogations or in situations where you can feel awkward, like the times when some police officers tried to flirt with you and got too close. Sure, you know how to turn them down, but sometimes guys don't get the memo and keep pushing. You're too shy to yell or be aggressive about it.
The team also understands the way you are, and they know it does not make you any less professional. However, they have always been careful not to take you too much out of your comfort zone.
---------------
A whole two weeks and five murders later, the team is stuck trying to catch an unsub who has preferences for killing women after club nights. The profile says he is not interested in just any woman but in those between 25-30 years old who like to flirt with several men in the clubs. But it is not just any type of flirting; it is the type that is initiated and dominated by them. In short, he likes to kill women who are the opposite of submissive. He sees them as predators on a hunting ground.
Another finding in victimology is that the women he kills, in addition to having a specific age range, have very similar physical characteristics. And similar to you.
All his victims have your build, eye color, hair color, and height. It gets to be creepy to a certain point. And it's something difficult to ignore.
Bouncing information and possible strategies, the team agrees they need to be proactive to get him to show up before another killing happens.
"Okay, what options do we have?" Emily asks.
"The witnesses haven't gotten us anywhere," Luke complains.
"Although we've narrowed down his hunting grounds," Rossi shrugs.
"Yeah, we know the clubs where he likes to hunt," JJ backs Rossi.
"But although the profile, we have yet to learn about what to look for there. I mean, we know what the unsub wants, but not how he looks like." This time, it's Tara who speaks.
You've rarely seen Emily bite her tongue when she wants to say something, but it's clear that she has something on her mind, and she doesn't know how to put it, or maybe the problem is something else. You look at her out of the corner of your eye, and she looks back at you; what do those eyes say? They look like they're even apologetic.
It's a fraction of the time before she comes back to behave like herself.
"We need to lurk him. It's the only way," she says. And everyone's eyes - yours included - are on her immediately.
"Lurk him?" Matt repeats.
"Yes. And all we know who should be the one going undercover to do that," Emily adds, looking at you this time.
That's it—the elephant in the room.
Of course, you're the ideal candidate. Well, you're perfect in the physical aspect because if we talk about the victim's personality and yours...
There's silence in the room, and you can feel like the team's eyes are all on you.
Do they expect you to say no? To refuse? From your perspective, it's not a question; it's more like the option you all have to catch the guy.
"It's true (Y/N) would be the closest to the unsub type, but there are a lot of things to take into account," Matt says. And you know perfectly well what's behind his words, even if he doesn't say it directly.
And that's okay; it's perfectly plausible they have their doubts. It is not enough to look like the victims for the operation to work.
But if there is one thing you are sure of, it's that you will always give your all to your job, even if that means becoming a completely different person.
"I can do it," you mumbled so quietly that if the AC weren't in the lower setting, people wouldn't have heard you.
"But (Y/N), you know about this guy. It's dangerous," Matt points, a frown on his face.
"Not to mention he likes rough interactions," Luke adds.
"You don't have to do it if you feel uncomfortable." This time, it is JJ who voices her opinion. And you know, that's the closest reason to the team's main concern.
And the fact you can blow up the entire plan.
Spencer stays in silence. Internally he's freaking out thinking of you having to lurk on the unsub, but he knows you are a professional. And he feels a kind of deja vu.
When he was younger, the team would have said the same about him doing something like that. Spencer knows what it's like when people baby you, making you feel insecure. Sure, he hasn't had to worry about that anymore. Spencer is almost forty, and no one would dare to tell him he can't do something. Not after all the things he has been through.
"JJ is right, Bella. You don't have to do it. We can think of another way," Rossi backs JJ.
That's when Spencer notices the slight frown on your face. It's invisible to everyone but him. He knows it's there.
You stay collected, even when everyone on the team has something to say about how bad the idea of you going undercover to lurk the unsub is.
Emily is who stops everyone's rant.
"Guys, hey. If (Y/N) is telling us she can do it, we're going to do it. Of course, we'll be there to back up her and catch this unsub."
And this is how the discussion is settled.
Emily sends everyone out with a task to prepare for the night. Today is Friday, and the unsub will surely be stalking some new victim. The chances are high.
When it's just you and Spencer in the room, he still looks at you in silence.
"Do you also think I'll not be able to pull off this mission and I'm going to ruin everything?"
You downcast your gaze, exhaling deeply.
"No. I don't think that," Spencer clarifies, and you raise your gaze to meet his eyes. "You are more than capable, (Y/N). The team is worried because you'll be out of your comfort zone in a dangerous situation."
"The team? Not you?" You narrow your eyes to him.
You try not to sound accusatory, but if you're as scared as everyone, you also are fed up with the other's doubts.
Spencer closes the distance between you both but doesn't invade your personal space.
"Of course, I'm worried too! I don't want anything bad to happen to you. But I trust you and your judgment."
Your heart does flip-flops, and you're not sure if it's because Spencer is worried or because, despite that, he trusts you—or both.
"You do?" You ask, not so convinced.
Spencer nods and smiles at you.
"And we'll be there when you catch the guy."
If that is the reassurance you need, you don't mention it. Instead, you grin at Spencer as a promise you'll do your job just how you are supposed to.
---------------
You insist on getting ready in your hotel room. The only assistant you ask for is Emily. She was the one who trusted you first in this, so you'll take every piece of advice she can give you before this night starts.
Everyone has a role in the plan.
Rossi will be the chauffeur who will drive you to the club.
Luke and Spencer would be in the club, mingling with the patrons. JJ, Matt, and Emily would be in the van monitoring the whole situation with cameras and earpieces. Rossi would keep his facade as a driver so he could be at one of the entrances. Tara would be at the club, too, eyeing nothing suspicious going on in the bar because there is a chance the unsub is getting help from the bartender.
When you are in front of the mirror applying the last touch of makeup, Emily is looking at you with a stare you can't decipher.
"What?" you ask, and Emily chuckles.
"Please, don't take this in a bad way, but I never thought I would live the day of seeing you using clothing like this. And Jesus, you look so hot!"
Your cheeks redens.
"It's a little bit odd coming from my boss, don't you think?" you muse, smoothing the fabric of your dress.
"Point taken," Emily raises her hands in defense. "Although I know someone who is going to run out of breath after seeing you."
You let out a scoff. It's not a surprise for you. The BAU girls - boss included - have been trying to set you up with Spencer since forever. You don't entertain the idea only because you don't think it's possible and not because you don't like the concept.
"Come on, don't say that. You are not helping to my nerves."
"Sorry, I'll shut up. We should go, though," Emily says, checking her watch.
One of the SUVs drives you to the van parking point. You needed to review the operation details.
At the back of the van - or commander point - JJ, Luke, Tara, Rossi, Matt, and Spencer see you come up with Emily.
For the best US profilers, they're not doing a good job hiding that they are gawking at you. Surely, no one imagined seeing you in such a revealing outfit. Outfit that, without a doubt, suits you extremely well, highlighting all your body attributes.
Spencer feels like he died and was resurrected after seeing you.
"Okay, guys, we need to check the details again," Emily announces.
The plan is in motion, and everyone is in position.
As expected, you arrive with Rossi at the club, who opens the door for you and helps you descend from the car. Rossi gives you a reassuring smile before letting you go.
Like a switch, you are no longer the shy SSA (Y/L/N). Now you are the woman who is going to take what she wants and attract the unsub attention doing that.
Your walk is determined, and your eyes send out flames of confidence to those who look at you. The music is very loud, something that would usually bother you, but not now. This needs to feel like your environment. That's how you like it, you tell yourself.
Almost instantly, you start to attract the looks of men who are eager for a woman like you.
You exude determination, and you don't go unnoticed.
Walking into the club, you make brief eye contact with Luke, who is on the dance floor. You see Spencer perched in a booth, nursing a beer.
At the same time, Tara is stationed at the bar.
"Remember (Y/N); the unsub expects the woman to approach men. The flirt needs to come from you," Emily reminds you by the earpiece hidden in one of the earrings you're wearing.
"Show time," you mumble to yourself.
You walk seductively to the dance floor, where a young man is dancing with a blonde. You approach and whisper something in his ear. That makes the boy completely lose interest in the blonde and start dancing with you. You smile and cling to the man's body, who wastes no time and takes your hips as if they were his possessions.
That dance certainly has nothing innocent about it. You continue whispering things in the boy's ear, and he looks more and more excited. Once you consider it a reasonable amount of time to have attracted attention, you leave the boy alone and head to the bar. Just a few meters away from Tara, a suspicious man is staring at you. You see him out of the corner of your eye as you order a drink. When the bartender passes it to you, you make subtle eye contact with Tara, who nods, indicating that the drink is clean.
You look next to you and see another man not so subtly looking at you. You know the unsub's profile, and you can't be intimidated or dominated by another man. You are the one who calls the shots. Otherwise, this will not work.
Before the man makes his attempt to seduce you, you turn to him, and with a penetrating look and disdainful voice, you stop him.
"Sorry, honey. Don't waste your time. You're not my type," and with that, you leave to move to the opposite side of the club. The guy huffs, and you're almost sure hearing him call you 'bitch' under his breath.
JJ, who's following the cameras inside the club, sees someone who looks suspect.
"Hey, this guy has been peeking at (Y/N) the entire time, and look, he clenched his fists when (Y/N) turned down that guy at the bar."
Emily confirms JJ's observation before giving you the next instructions.
"(Y/N), you're doing great. We have a possible target. So we need to raise the bet."
You know exactly what Emily means. You both had talked about the strategy to follow, having more details about what you should do than the rest of the team.
Matt and JJ look confused at each other but say nothing.
Your next step is to find another dude to seduce before delivering the coup de grace.
Luke and Spencer keep an eye on you. And while Luke is pleasantly surprised by your audacity, Spencer can't help but feel his stomach tighten. He tells himself it's because he is afraid something bad could happen to you, but inside of him, it's that and the fact of seeing you flirt with other men.
Just like you did with the guy on the dance floor, you attract the attention of another man; this time, you take his hand and pull him to the dance floor.
JJ and Matt's jaws drop to the floor. If Tara, Luke, and Spencer could do the same without giving themselves away, they would have done it, too.
As if it were your second nature, you laugh and move to the music. The man seems to enjoy the moment so much that he takes a bold step by leaning in to kiss you. You let him get closer until his lips are almost on yours. But before touching each other, you pull back with a malicious smile.
"Naughty boy. I'm who says if you can kiss or no," you pout, faking disappointment. Dizzed, the guy cocks his head and sees you walk away.
Matt chirps now. "It's him. Look boss," he tells Prentiss, pointing to the same guy JJ saw before.
There is no longer any doubt that it is him. Now you just have to catch him red-handed.
"(Y/N), we got him. It's time for the last play," Emily tells you.
With Emily's instruction, you go to the bar for another drink before heading over to where Spencer is sitting.
He tries to play it off, but he has no idea why you're approaching him.
"Is this seat taken, handsome?" You ask, with your drink in hand.
"N- no. Please," Spencer gestures to the booth on his front, but you opt to perch to his side. Spencer thinks he never has been this close to you. He looks at your eyes, and it's like you are a totally different person. It's a little bit contradictory for him, to be honest. He already likes you just as you are, but this version of you? It's driving him insane.
Some resemblance of your true self looks with a kind of curiosity the nervousness on Spencer. You don't think much about it; you assume he's playing the nervous guy who is baffled by you.
The thing is, Spencer isn't playing. He's definitely baffled by you.
"Are you okay?" You ask him, masking your question with a seductive smile.
"Yeah. Are - are you?" Spencer stutters a bit—something that is perfect for the plan but embarrassing for him.
You get closer to him to speak in his ear.
"This was Emily's idea," you tell him before kissing his ear and gently biting his lobe.
Spencer's breath hitches in his throat, and he thinks he's going to pass out any second. You're not doing it better: your heart is also pumping hard from the adrenaline. Of course, you had imagined something like that with Spencer, but only in your erotic dreams. You wouldn't dare do this on any given day.
You keep teasing Spencer, who, despite the nervousness, tries to play along. If this is the closest he will ever have you, he wants to engrave this in his memory.
"Just a little push, (Y/N). We almost have him," Emily instructs by the earpiece.
You swallow as subtly as possible as you wrap your arm around Spencer's neck, pulling him closer to you.
It's only a second between that action and the fact that you're kissing Spencer like it's your last meal.
Spencer doesn't know how to respond, and you were counting on that; it was enough time for the unsub to notice that you were the one who chose her last prey.
When Spencer is about to reciprocate the kiss, you murmur a 'sorry' into his lips and quickly pull away, giving him a disdainful look—which you hope he understands is fake—before getting up and walking toward the back exit door.
As expected, the unsub follows you towards the back door, and while your back is turned, he believes he has the advantage to attack you. What he doesn't know is that Matt and Luke are ready to lunge at him the moment he tries to touch you.
Everything that happens after is too fast.
The unsub is detained and taken to a patrol car while the team gathers around you, congratulating you on the successful operation. They all apologize to you for their previous apprehensions. You tell them that you understand and that there is no need to apologize. And it's like the switch has been flipped again since you came out of the femme fatale role.
But something is wrong. Spencer is not in the group. You see him a little further away, near the exit door of the club. Emily notices the looks between you both, and she sends the team on different tasks to close the case, leaving you and Spencer there.
There's something in his eyes that you can't decipher. You think it's resentment for using him without warning him what you were going to do.
You shyly approach him.
"It's me again," you tell him, pulling a face. You don't know what to say to make the situation better. Spencer nods.
"Yeah. You did it great, by the way," he compliments you. But it doesn't feel good like Spencer's compliments usually do.
"Look, about the kiss back there-" you start. He needs an explanation as a bare minimum.
"I know. It was fake," Spencer cuts you off.
Those words shouldn't hurt you as they do now. But isn't that the most reasonable thing to believe? The you in the club weren't you, so all you did inside was pretend.
Everything except that kiss.
If it's true you couldn't enjoy it the way you would have liked, you will never forget his lips on yours.
A tense silence takes over the moment. This is not okay.
You can't afford to lie to one of the most important people in your life, even if telling the truth takes you out of your comfort zone.
What the hell! Tonight has already been a total of 180 from a usual day for you.
"It wasn't," you mumble, and you see his eyes flicking to yours in a second.
"What?" Spencer asks, narrowing his eyes at you.
"Everything was fake, but not the kiss," you say with a stadied voice this time.
Spencer's heart races again. If you say you didn't fake it, then what he felt on your part at that moment was real?
"It wasn't fake?" He asks for clarification. You nod.
A smirk forms on Spencer's lips, seeing your cheeks redden.
There you are. The girl he had fallen for in the past two years.
"Well, you know that I am a man of science, right?" he tells you, and you frown because you have no idea where this is going.
"I know," you say with some hesitation.
"And as a man of science, I need evidence of things, you know?"
Now, you are the one who smirks at him.
"Evidence, huh?"
"Yep," he says, emphasizing the 'p' and swaying his body on his feet. You hum.
"I believe I can provide the necessary evidence if you need them," you concede, and Spencer's eyes sparkle with excitement.
Now, he is the one who reaches out and cups your cheeks. Your breathing quickens, but that doesn't stop you from standing on your tiptoes and connecting your lips with his.
This time, there is no unsub, no curious eyes are looking at you, there is no rush, there is no femme fatale role, and above all, this is not fake; it's as real as the fact that your heart beats for him, and his for you.
------------------ 
Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers 
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mygnolia · 2 months ago
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to weave my love ⭒ n. riki
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⭒ SYNOPSIS -› Riki is good at many things- dancing, making fun of his friends, playing it cool (debatable.), Hell- he’s even good at saving people from falling buildings without getting whiplash. But the things he’s bad at? Well, it’s asking you out to prom, and trying to balance the shared assignment he has with you…while being Spider-man.
⭒ PAIR -› spiderman!nishimura riki x fem-pres!reader
⭒ GENRE -› fluff, banter, action ⭒ TROPES -› classmates to lovers, idiots to lovers ⭒ WC -› 17k (i’m sorry idk why either.)
⭒ INCLUDES -› SPOILERS FOR GREAT GATSBY, cursing, non-graphic injuries (reader discretion advised), yes i made the patching up with first aid kit trope SUE ME!! takes place in a busy city similar to new york never specified, reader is rich, jake and heeseung are seniors and riki’s a junior, is riki stupid? yes… jake reveals stuff because he is also a little silly, reader wears a red dress!
⭒ GREAT GATSBY -› basically jay gatsby has this weird amt of money but no one rlly knows how he got it (nefarious reasons) and hes been in love with this girl daisy for five years but then she got married to tom buchanan but he gets rich so he can get the house across from her and wistfully watch her and he pines after her like CRAZY but he dies at the end
⭒ REN SAYS...special huge fat kiss to thena @sensitively-taken you will be in the will when im a millionaire THANK YOU for helping me with so much of this I WUV U AND I WLL BE WAITING FOR UR HUENING FIC!!! | LIBRARY
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NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE FROM PRE-ADULTHOOD STRESS, IF THAT’S EVEN A THING.
What exactly does Riki have to worry about as a seventeen-year-old junior in high school? Right now, his most daunting responsibility is catching up on the chapters of The Great Gatsby because the only thing Riki’s actually read from the novel is that the main character shares a name with his best friend and senior, Park Jay. His second most daunting responsibility is handling the fact that with the new seating chart in his Literature class, it means he’s sitting next to the object of his very subtle affections, you. 
See, the problem with having a crush on you is that Nishimura Riki’s committed to thinking that you’re way out of his league, and unfortunately, the boy believes that almost too well. Not only are you minted beyond his wildest dreams (having seen your posts on social media), but you’re hardworking, helpful, and dedicated to your role as student body treasurer. He’s already understood that you’d never go for a guy like him. Maybe someone more like Park Sunghoon, whose parents’ salary matches yours. If Riki lived in a rural estate with generational wealth, handling the whole ‘Spider-Man’ thing might be a bit easier for him, considering he wouldn’t have to try so hard in school. It might even change the fact that Riki dealt with some alleyway criminals last night and is currently catching up on lost sleep, as your English Literature teacher goes on and on about a project on the book you’re reading. 
In class, and even sometimes outside of the classroom, your small tendency to not pay attention to your surroundings has landed you in some awkward situations—like now. 
“I don’t really tell anyone this, but I hate Daisy.” And instead of getting a response, you glance over to see Nishimura Riki slumped on the desk. Without trying to make preconceptions about what could land him in a situation like this, you poke his arm, stifling a smile at how his eyes widen when you’ve caught him rubbing the very obvious sleep from his eye. 
“Sorry,” he whispers, still fighting the post-nap grogginess, “Did I miss anything?” 
(Nope.)
Shaking your head, you return your attention to your teacher as he continues to answer questions. The second Mr. Yoo assigned a report, you wanted to die even more considering the work you had to do on top of the impending due dates. But for it to be partnered? And for you to get seated and paired with the one boy who's known for not caring about school? Maybe things are a little stacked against you, but there has to be a reason why Riki’s somehow still passing all his classes…right?
Considering it’s the last assignment about the book, you’re glad that you already read it so many times to know what you want to put into words. And in retrospect, answering a few open-ended questions about it can’t be that hard—the hardest part would be getting your partner to stay awake in class. 
A small tap at your side makes you turn to face Riki, who you see has frantically written a page full of notes about the project in the past three minutes and how he can succeed. “Can you go over the first part? Sorry…I was…y’know.” 
“It’s a partner project. And we’re partners.” You wince at the awkward wording. 
Great! Riki was caught sleeping and that was your first impression of him for your paired assignment? Riki feels so stupid in front of you right now—in front of your meticulous notes with annotations and proper highlighting. He wants to curl up into a ball when he sees you glance over at his haphazard attempt to look like he was paying attention when, in truth, he was trying to remember the dream he had just ten minutes prior. When you offer him a small smile and nod, leaning over with your notebook in hand, he sighs in relief, thanking whoever it was that let him get away with his naps without the consequence of irritating you afterwards. 
The bell rings when Mr. Yoo stops talking, and you pause, startled by the sound. Instead of leaving, however, you pack your bag and shuffle to his side of his desk, continuing to parrot details about your report in hopes that it all makes sense. You need to make sure he knows what he’s doing. 
“I think one of the questions he mentioned was like ‘Is Gatsby a good person?’ and do you remember how in Chapter Eight…” The rest gets zoned out and forgotten in the boy’s head, because he in fact does not know what happened in Chapter Eight. He doesn’t know what happened…in any part of the book. But he agrees anyway, pretending like he understands what scene you’re trying to explain. What he notices is how thorough and dedicated you are towards ensuring he comprehends what you’re explaining, and although it could be because you don’t want him to fail you both, he chooses to believe you’re doing it because you tolerate him. 
You’re so engrossed in covering all the little details and telling him random tidbits regarding the book that you don’t realize your feet have made it all the way to the cafeteria. “But here, let me get your number. I’ll totally explain more over text.” 
Riki is definitely not freaking out when he silently grabs his phone and hands it to you with the contact page, staring a little longer than necessary at the cute smiley face you added to your name. “Thanks,” he mumbles, forcibly tearing his eyes away from the ten digits of your number, “For helping me with this, too.”
“Of course! The Great Gatsby is a fun read for me. A little hard to read sometimes because of some of the characters, but still easy to understand.” And Nishimura RIki realizes that he has to do well. He’ll read the book five times over if it means gaining your approval. 
Jake notices something a little different about the tuft of black and blonde hair when his friend walks in. The first thing is that he’s actually here, and that you’re next to him, smiling. The boy rubs his eye to make sure he’s not dreaming somehow, but when he looks up again, you’re waving goodbye and joining your friends across the room. 
“Did you get hit with something while fighting a villain that makes you more bold? I feel like I just saw you and ____ talking,” Jake starts when Riki finally joins him with his lunch. 
Riki laughs, shoving Jake’s head out of embarrassment and opening his chips. “It’s just school. Got some project in English and she says we’re partnered.” He looks over at his friend chuckling, rolling his eyes at how Jake pokes at his side and wiggles his eyebrows. 
“I better hear you two are dating by next week.” 
“Who’s dating by next week?” Heeseung places his bag of food in front of them and takes a seat, opening the fast food he got last period and stuffing a fry in his mouth. 
“Riki and ____. Let me have one,” Jake answers, reaching inside the bag. 
Heeseung looks over at his junior curiously. “You asked her out?” And the two older students hear a groan from the boy in question. 
“Me and ____ aren’t anything, for your information.” He prods at the vegetables on his tray and takes a bite before a look of displeasure washes over his face. “You’re both way too excited for two guys who do not have girlfriends.” 
“Hey! You know the girl I’m always fighting with is the reason why I’m single. I have to focus on studying to do well in school to do better than her.” Heeseung’s whining falls on deaf ears as Riki smiles victoriously, seeing how defensive the former got. 
Jake offers him a shrug of defeat. “I got nothing.”
The three of them fall into normal conversation and Riki finally explains everything that happened during English.  “So you’re telling me your plan to ask ____ out went down from 18 months to 6?” And with a nod from the younger, they both groan once more. Heeseung exclaims, “We’re both going to graduate, dumbass. Make the plan go down to like…two months? Please?” 
Jake cuts in before Riki has a chance to respond. “Make it one and a half, so we can see you with a prom date before leaving forever.” 
“You act as if you’re going to die after graduation. It’s like you’re begging to be a super senior.” 
And they’re silenced immediately. 
“Do you think the guy I was with earlier hates me?” you ask on the other side of the room. Minjeong stares at you blankly, waiting for your explanation. “I don’t know if you saw when I walked in but I was talking to this really tall guy with blonde hair and black tips. He seemed really out of it, like he kept staring at me and nodding. I think I scared him off by talking about the book too much.” 
Sunghoon, who is also listening in, opens his neatly packed lunchbox and begins mixing his noodles. “I think you did scare him off, ____.”
“Not helping,” Minjeong interjects, “Just talk to him more and maybe he’ll warm up to you. You two sit together in class anyways, so hopefully he’ll talk more?” 
“I know him,” Sunghoon comments, “Well, sort of. I’m friends with Jake who’s friends with Riki, and it seems like all that boy does is sleep.” 
“Maybe he’s really good at subconscious in-class comprehension?” you try, taking a bite of your sandwich. “I just hope it doesn’t interfere too much with treasurer stuff.” 
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NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE IF HE SWINGS INTO ANOTHER WALL AT 100MPH LIKE HOW HE ALMOST DID TONIGHT.
All he’s had on his mind since school ended till now is how he should probably text you, if he really discarded the slimy acid monster from last week properly, and when the prom theme is going to be released, but there’s something amiss that confuses his spidey-senses and makes Riki much more alert. 
He snaps out of whatever train of thought he had before, focusing on the situation at hand and looking around to follow his instinct. Riki cautiously plants himself on the side of a random apartment building to get a sense of what's going on. A tingle of some sort of in the air permeates the material of his suit and leaves him shivering from the cold. 
He doesn't like it one bit. 
Moving to the side of the building to the top, the boy finally catches a glimpse of something when he gets a decent view of the city and highway systems. Riki knows something’s wrong with the bridge the closer he gets. He zips from one side of the tall, metal tower to the other, crawling down on all fours making sure he isn’t caught. He feels the electric feeling once more, only amplified. It runs up his spine and he wants to slap it, almost like a frantic, summertime bug. The air around him is charged with something he has never recognized before. With a puzzled expression under his mask, Riki continues to investigate the surrounding area. 
Riki finds a lone figure with some sort of attachment to his left arm, like a long glove made out of metal. The bulkiness of it seems to have no impact on his body as the man fiddles with the contraption, and the boy watches with bated breath as the machine fizzes and spurts with electricity. It begins to glow as power concentrates on his plated palm and the superhero sees it for the first time. It’s like a fizz, like a match striking at fire only to produce a quick burst of friction, but it almost feels liquid when he watches the person play with the flickering blue ball of electricity. It dances in the dark in a hauntingly beautiful way, with bolts jutting out from the metal as it spurts and buzzes with a life-like manner. 
A spark. 
“Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” The sound of Riki’s voice from the end of the bridge causes the stranger to look up with wide eyes. Although Riki fully expects it to simply enhance strength or block damage, the immediate strike of blue that flies straight towards him is anything but defensive. With a yelp, he jumps away, this time refusing to show himself. 
What the hell was that?
He knows he should go back down there to change things and get the person and the metal pieces away before it escalates, but when he goes back down to watch, it's ten times worse. The bright blue illuminates the scarred face of the villain as he’s picked up the metal arm–but this time, it’s no longer clunky and sparking, but fused into his arm. 
Riki’s face pales at the sudden change before his body acts on its own and he shoots out a web to stop the man. 
The villain is shocked by the intrusion, but quickly yanks free from the webbing and flicks another bolt of electricity, one that flies much faster now that the metal flows into the arm instead of simply resting on the skin. It’s unlike something Riki has ever seen, something that is so controlled in motion and yet so erratic in nature, and it instills a deathly fear when it grazes his arm he hisses in pain. The sharp feeling springs Riki into action as he jumps away. He’s lucky another bolt isn’t sent his way, seeing how the villain’s too busy marveling at the power of his new gadget.
“You know that fucking hurts, right?” He yells out, cupping his wound. “Maybe leave the gadgets to the kids!”
The man scoffs. “It better have hurt. I sacrificed half my body for this to work.”
“But why?” All Riki wants is answers. Some sort of explanation.
The man charges up yet another bolt, almost like a laser gun is built into the machine. “Less talking, more running, Spiderman.” 
That scared the shit out of him. 
The boy doesn’t have time to think as he jumps out from the dark tunnel to the bridge and up the metal towers—he hates having to fight with people right below. The villain follows in pursuit, almost crumbling the metal with his engineered arm as he hoists himself quickly. Riki continues to jump between the structure to avoid the flashes, trying to get out and apprehend the man as quickly as possible. When he reaches the top, however, he feels death is near as he glances down at the villain below who’s quickly gaining on him. He shoots out webs to slow him temporarily, letting himself fall and swing from the side of the tower to escape. 
What he doesn’t see on the way across the bridge is the flash that misses his cheek and hits his thigh instead. It burns, and mid-air, Riki gives the wound a quick assessment before he lands on the metal, immediately forcing his body to climb. While dealing with his wound, he fails to notice the villain swinging from the bridge support lines to meet him. 
He needs to end this fast before he becomes burnt toast.
Riki doesn’t often rely on instinct to carry him, but he can tell that the villain he’s facing isn’t just a criminal. 
“Land another hit, would you?” he tries to say, his voice strained from the pain in his arm and leg. It doesn’t do much to deter the man in front of him as the arm continues to destroy and bend the metal on the way up. “What are you going to do now, Sparky?”
The man says nothing, charging energy into his metal glove again before aiming and focusing on the target: him. 
Riki jumps off, not able to properly land his web in the right spot as he goes from one section of the bridge to the other. The man behind him looks enraged at the boy’s attempt to escape—so much so that he reaches out with his normal hand to try to grasp the suit when Spider-Man swings past him. Instead of the feeling of fabric, the villain feels sticky spider fluid on his fingers. Riki shoots out a web, one that curls around the villain’s wrist and drags him off the tower. Instead of being able to launch him into the surrounding waters, the man slips from the poorly shot-out webs and falls from mid air into the sea of frantic cars, including one semi truck that collides directly with his arm. In the air, the boy winces when he hears honks and shouts from the impact, hoping it’s the last time he’ll have to witness it.
With his gaze trained on the falling figure, the weakly attached web breaks, and Riki all of a sudden starts falling down as well. He curls up defensively before bracing for impact, curling into himself when he feels the metal dent and the truck driver scream from outside of the parked vehicle, the body of the villain right in front of it. 
Riki staggers, holding onto his arm and thigh the best he can before getting up. With wobbly steps and a small jump, he lands near the unconscious man, whose metal arm is cracked and fizzling—something that Riki knows is bound to leave more scars. 
“Call the police. I’ll get rid of the pieces.” Although Riki wants to figure out who the criminal is and make sure he’s properly apprehended, the gashes in the boy's limbs leave him winded and exhausted. With hot metal scraps bound together by webbing in his hands, Riki swings out and dumps it somewhere rural, trying his best to cover the pieces with the pounding headache that 
Riki revisits the secluded spot under the bridge, looking for clues to the man’s identity, and his expression falls when he notices a lanyard dangling near a trash can. 
His name, his position, and the company. FLiGHT Corp. The company name caught the boy’s eye, and he pockets the item before leaving. 
It seemed like he was a normal research scientist, but Riki’s recollection of the scars and tattered skin leaves him retracting his last thought. He heard something about the failure of a time travel machine at FLiGHT, and if the mass of the incident was anything to go by, he was in the center of it. 
No matter how many times Riki tries to get it out of his head, on the way home, all he can think about is the inexperience he displayed and the lack of response he gave Riki during the whole time. But Riki can’t bring himself to really take away someone’s life—and maybe for that, he’s a horrible superhero. 
He knows he should stop the man before it's too late, and especially with how many self-proclaimed villains there have been, it's not easy to see so many innocent people ruin their lives chasing a power that inevitably consumes them. He knows it’ll only get worse if he lets them run free.
And while the superhero has never been fully honest with himself, there are many times where Riki hates his role as Spider-Man, and wishes that he was just some teenage boy who didn't have the lives of others in his palm. He wishes he didn't have to sacrifice so much to stay behind a mask—and he wonders deep down if there’s anyone else who felt the same. 
His swings lead him across the city above hundreds of lives he has to protect, and he tries to find some semblance of peace. He thinks about how he has his homework due despite having just risked his life, he thinks about how your project is going—and about you. 
In the night under the stars, Nishimura Riki wishes for something just a bit normal. He wishes a good night for himself, but also for you, wherever you could be.
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NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE FROM TRYING TO READ THIS BOOK IN ONE NIGHT.
The Great Gatsby is exactly like how you described it; a little hard to get through but fun with the plot’s eccentric characters. He’s pretty sure he could’ve just used a detailed SparkNotes explanation for the book, but having a crush can make someone do weird things. And in Nishimura Riki’s case, his infatuation has got him reading a novel about morally-skewed characters and rich society to impress you. 
When you come into class barely on time, Riki gives you a confused look when you sit down, but doesn’t comment on it any further. Instead, he takes out his book and tries to act like his eyes weren’t closing shut from exhaustion by the time Daisy was finally confessing how she loved Gatsby. 
The moment Mr. Yoo stops talking, however, Riki isn’t asleep—much to your surprise. He has his book out, pages filled with sticky notes and a whole section of his notebook dedicated to characters (written in bright red to keep him awake) and their traits. 
“I got it.” It’s the first thing he says when you two are left to do in-class work. It’s ominous, and maybe a little too enthusiastic in a high school literature class for a boy who doesn’t even care that much for school, but you’ll accept it with open arms if it means you get a helping hand on your project. 
“Continue,” you tell him slowly, leaning back in your chair to listen to him. And you don’t know why, but a small part of you thinks that the boy who sleeps every period the book was discussed wouldn’t have much to say or contribute to such an open-ended prompt, but life is full of surprises. 
What you fail to notice is how Riki is nervous and his stomach does at least twenty flips before he swallows dryly and starts rambling in hopes to impress you and redeem himself from his embarrassing slumber a few days ago. 
“So you know how our prompt is based on one character and basically all their actions?” he asks, and you nod, absentmindedly thumbing a sheet in your journal. “I’m thinking we should talk about Jay Gatsby because so much is revealed to us about him that we might as well use it to our advantage. Y’know, talking about how the theme of exploitation and secrets is veiled under Gatsby’s desire for Daisy.”
“You don’t think Gatsby’s a good character?” Riki wants to tell you that Gatsby is more relatable than good or bad, but he shakes his head. 
“I mean, not really.” He feels like with those four words, he’s completely changed the trajectory of his relationship with you from a positive slope to completely downhill—and a wave of panic washes over him. “Should I? I mean, I could see him as more redeemable if you gave me examp-“
You wave your hand to quell his worries. “To be honest, I don’t like him either. But he’s an interesting main character to write about, so I think we should go with your idea.” 
To win your approval feels like he’s won at least three fights against a villain in a row without getting any bad injuries—it feels good. And for the rest of the period, you are able to finish a detailed outline of your work for the next few weeks, mapping out sections for each other, and he even gets to see a part of prom planning on a word document you had open. He considers your shared productivity a win when he packs up and bids you goodbye before leaving for lunch. 
One wave doesn’t catch Riki’s attention from across the room. Not even two, or three calls of his name could get Nishimura Riki out of his thoughts, and Jake frowns before moving up in the lunch line. 
“Something’s caught your eye again.” Jake feigns innocence and sighs dramatically as he places the food down next to Riki’s plate. “Could it possibly be our school treasurer?” Jake laughs, leaning over to catch a glimpse of what’s got his friend so entranced and non-responsive.
Riki scrunches his nose, annoyed, but never breaking his gaze from where you’re sitting. “We talked in class–like, a lot,” is all he says, paying his friend no mind. “She’s genuinely so understanding.”
“God, I don’t think you can be any more down bad for her than you are right now.” Jake picks at his food, and despite his concentration directed towards the olives on his pizza, he’s able to dodge the flying loaded nacho that goes his way, even if he wasn’t the one with superpowers.
“Can you shut up?” Riki grumbles, laying his head on his arms as he notices you smile and point to something. “I just got pummeled into a semi truck last week. Let me have this before I die tomorrow.” 
“Very grim,” his friend notes, ruffling the younger’s hair, “I think this is exactly what all of those mental health assemblies that we get are for.” And Riki basically tunes him out, too tired to fight and too used to the teasing remarks to come up with anything useful in response. 
Riki sits up a bit, letting his head rest on his propped elbow as he looks at the school food and touches another nacho gingerly. “Y’know, I read the book for English so she wouldn’t think I’m an idiot.” 
His friend snickers, successfully pulling out yet another sliced olive from the cheese, much to the disgust of Riki. “She probably already thinks you’re an idiot.” 
The superhero debates throwing another cheesy nacho in Jake's face, before deciding to eat it instead. “Don’t say that asshole! You make it seem like I have no chance with her.” 
Jake shoots him an exasperated look that makes Riki break eye contact. “That’s because you don’t.” 
“I’ll prove to her that I’m worth her time.” Riki says somewhat wistfully, still stealing glances from a few tables away. “Maybe I’ll ask her out to prom, show up in my suit. Do that cheesy upside down kiss shit people say Spiderman does.” When his friend raises an eyebrow at him, Riki shrugs. “I will! Well-maybe not the Spider-Man thing, but prom definitely.” 
Jake continues to look at him unconvinced as he takes a bite out of a slice of pizza with mangled cheese. “You barely talk to her in class and you think you can ask her out to prom as Nishimura Riki?” And the younger grins, eyes still stuck on how your eyes crinkle and how your shoulders shake with laughter. 
“Yup.” And his fate is sealed, just like that.
“What’s your project about, anyways? Didn’t you tell me last night that she gave you her number? Must be pretty serious if she wants to text you.” Riki furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head. 
“It’s just tying the theme of the book to one character and writing about how they show it. So we did the theme of money and Gatsby, because it’s easy and mentioned so many times.” 
Jake gawks. “You must really like her,”
“I was planning to read it regardless of who I was partnered with.” 
“Okay- that’s debatable.” There goes another one of Riki’s nachos.
“Gross.” 
He thinks things are going pretty well for you two. The report is being written and your quotes are basically finding themselves, so Riki should give himself a pat on the back for pitching the initial idea for how to go about your assignment. Maybe reading the whole book offered him a few useful pointers, and he goes to sleep that night satisfied with your progress. Maybe Heeseung and Jake were right—maybe he could finally ask you out by prom. 
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NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE TRYING TO SAVE THE CITY FROM YET ANOTHER MONSTER TERRORIZING THE STREETS.
He wakes up the next morning, not expecting his alarm to alert his senses to danger. It rings in his head and makes him feel delirious, trying to shake sleep off as he looks out the window for any visible sign of what's wrong. If he could hear the danger in his head then that meant someone could be hurt, and he could go to school without a few hours of sleep if he worked fast enough, right? 
Riki slips into his suit without much thought and goes to crack his window open, only to look back at his clock and read the horrific time of 6:23AM. 
Who the hell picks a fight with a teenager at this ungodly time? 
Then, he shoots from his wrists, once, twice, and suddenly, he's off, covering more ground through the air in just three seconds than he ever could while walking or running for minutes on end.
The source of his tingling spidey-sense is some large metal centipede creature that was setting off car alarms in a neighborhood near the market. Thankfully, no one was really awake to be caught in the crossfire, but he has to figure out how the hell he's going to catch that thing in...he checks his watch…twenty minutes? 
Hopefully, his instinct will help him win this time—again. 
The web he shoots out does nothing to stop the monster, and considering how it connected them both, the threads only drag the superhero to the edge of the building he was initially watching from. With some yelling and pulling, he finally detaches, and realizes that the odd sizzling feeling in his bonds must be from the same source as a few days ago; Spark. 
He had this gut feeling that a villain as strong as him wouldn’t have been destroyed so easily, but his wounds were so deep and the blood loss so bad from a few nights ago that he couldn’t have truly dumped him in the ocean without fainting or suffering something permanent, and although Riki hoped things in the universe would work itself out, the presence of the giant fifty foot insect alone is proof that things were not in his favor. 
He jumps off the building onto another, working quickly as he strings up a few webs between the houses as a wall for the monster, watching it slide and knock over cars in its wild pursuit. The monster spends a few seconds breaking down the wall of webbing and climbing over it, the many legs easily breaking through. As the superhero jumps across buildings and keeps track of the centipede’s movement, he has no idea why it isn’t going for him, and that makes his job much harder without the attention of the monster. One glance at the direction the centipede is headed in sets off another ding in Riki’s head—but this time, it finally clicks why the centipede is headed away from the boy. 
It’s attracted to the power plant. 
Riki immediately jumps and swings off of a lamp post, using the momentum of gravity and the force of his swing to propel him faster than the slithering creature. Squinting, he holds out his fist and points his pointer and pinky out, following the movement of the centipede as he aims. 
Bam. 
He sends clusters of silky white threads down precisely at the first pair of legs to pin it down. The webs stop the creature momentarily, and Riki doesn’t have time to watch how the body shrinks up and fizzes out with blue shocks as it tries to wiggle loose and malfunctions. This fight would be over soon, and the boy smiles when he jumps down to shoot more webs to apprehend the centipede. It wiggles and sends electricity out through parts of its body, trying to pry itself out. He expects it to simply be a robot of sorts following a mission considering its avoidant behavior, but as he approaches the tail, the monster suddenly swings at Riki, and its mass and speed is incomparable to the boy’s reaction speed. 
Riki lands into a tree and someone’s garage, feeling the crumbling wall falling all over him and the sudden pain blooming in his lower back. 
This fight will, in fact, not be over soon. 
With his superhuman abilities, Riki grabs onto the metal of the car beside him to hoist himself up, coughing from the dust, and jumping over the rubble to see how quickly the centipede creature can get out, without regard for his current state. The sound and rumble of the giant monster is all he needs to know that the traps are effective, but not at the previous capacity. 
The plan is simple: apprehend the legs and crush the head, where Riki assumes the decision-making and programming is taking place. But the monster’s angry and erratic actions throw a wrench in his plan. Its legs move faster, digging into the cement and leaving ruin in its wake as it continues down the road. While both the villain and superhero are fast, the distance between the power plant is finite—and only grows smaller and smaller.  
Although Riki can feel the bruises coming, he runs and swings, hearing the wind in his ears as he catches up to the centipede in no time. He tries the same tactics again–aim, shoot, stick, all the while keeping his distance. Although the monster’s body spans incredibly long, and should carry an immense amount of weight, the way it snaps at Riki’s flying body and sends shockwaves through his core leaves him shivering as his body slams into the ground, coughing. It hurts all over, and it feels like there’s weight on his eyes when he tries to open them and get up. His head is spinning as he staggers onto his knees, clutching his chest as he watches the centipede shrivel and crackle. 
It seems like the voltage produced is a double-ended sword, one that burns up the centipede body as much as it deals damage, and with the way the mutant creeps towards the electricity of the plant, Riki gets the feeling there’s a magnetic pull that forces the mutant to continue to crawl even against its instinct to stop. 
Despite his waning strength, however, Riki knows better than to half finish the job like last time. He creates a net from experience, weaving together the thickest and most durable threads to trap the entirety of the slowly approaching creature. It seems to crawl slowly up the makeshift barrier, knocking its head against the white and spreading the bright blue waves of its energy throughout. The boy watches as the thin white mass absorbs all of it and clings to the creature. It works, finally, after his attempts to nullify its movements, and he knows that despite the ache in his every step, the almost mummified centipede that hangs between several roofs for all the neighbors to gawk at is his sure sign of victory. 
All he remembers is hearing a familiar call of his hero name before his legs give out and his head hits Jake’s chest. 
Holy fucking shit is the first thing Riki thinks when he wakes up. 
He’s not out of his tattered suit and he feels grimy all over, but his body has done wonders in reducing the otherwise fatal injuries he got. No human body should be able to withstand two energy-filled blasts, but his suit and superhuman healing are of greater help than ever in alleviating the damage from his wounds. 
He knows why he’s in his bed with bandages thrown over his open wounds. He knows that every time something like this happens, it’s Jake who shoos away the concerned civilians, telling them he’s a medic. Jake is not a medic—rather, he’s a seventeen year-old boy who knows about his friend’s double life and with all the times he’s saved Riki, someone might as well dub him the greatest medic of all time. 
The clock on his bedside table has only served as a bearer of bad news. He looks over to see how it’s practically midday, and he’s missed yet another day of school from fighting crime. He’s in no condition to get up or get his bag, seeing how his hair is frizzy and his cheek has a cut that would warrant questioning. It seems only fair that he stays absent, and before he falls back asleep, he only prays you aren’t too mad at him for leaving the seat next to you empty.
But you aren’t mad, just worried. The soreness in his muscles doesn’t go away though, and he groans when he sits up in his bed, with bandages around his arms and an ice pack discarded next to him. 
He’s most definitely not coming to school like this. 
While you bore holes into the clock hanging off the wall, that doesn’t speed up the time. Two minutes pass, then another minute. As your classmates find their partners and begin discussing, you notice how the room gets louder with the due date looming near. It’s the first time you’re alone without the familiar boy beside you, and something hangs low in your chest when you put in a pair of earphones and open your laptop. 
Riki’s absence should have no effect on you. After all, you’re both just high school students who’ve talked once or twice, and yet you still look over at the empty chair. Staring doesn’t make Riki appear, though, and you return to your edits. It feels empty without his insight, or without him asking you to help him with a passage. Riki was your solution to all things boring. If he wasn’t doing his work, then you two were laughing at something on his phone. And if you agreed to both do something other than the report, then you could ask for an extra opinion when deciding prom details. There was something freeing about working with him that attracted you. Riki knew how to lighten the mood on days that weren’t so good for you, but he also worked hard and let loose at the same time. There was a perfect balance in Riki’s life that you aspired to have; it was a good mix of playful, dedicated, and fun all in the same vein. 
The words blend together on your screen. Jay Gatsby this, Tom Buchanan that, it all looks monotonous the more you keep trying to read and comprehend what exactly you’re talking about. 
Before class is dismissed, Mr. Yoo steps to the front of the classroom to gather everyone’s attention. He introduces your new novel for the next month, explaining yet another large assignment associated with the text. 
Truth be told, you don’t pay attention to any of it. 
The only thing you remember to do is to grab extra copies of the printed graphic organizers, as you get out of your seat and rush out when class ends in pursuit of one specific boy. 
“Sim Jaeyun!” The call of his name diverts Jake’s attention from his phone to your waving arm as you weave through the students and finally reach him. 
“You can just call me Jake,” he explains, “what’s up?” 
You begin to reach into your backpack, trying to feel for your folder, and pull out a few sheets. “These are for Riki.” 
Jake cheers internally for his friend who’s busy recovering at home. “What, you got a crush on him or something?” 
He tries to play it cool by teasing you, but the smile you bite back leaves the boy questioning if there really is anything going on. Jake knows better than to tell you anything about Riki’s feelings, and opts to instead grab the papers and to thank you for looking out for his friend. 
“Is Riki okay?” You have to know, just to make sure he’ll be here tomorrow to cure your boredom. 
What Jake says is much different than the nonchalant wave and half grin he gives you. “He’s just bedridden.” 
“That’s pretty serious! Did he come down with anything?” He seemed fine yesterday, so what’s the catch?
He blurts, “He just got badly hurt.” 
Immediately, Jake knows he’s fucked up. 
Your confusion and silence answers him far more than words ever could–he basically hears the gears turning slowly in your head.
Jake weakly defends, “His parents had a fight with him because he hit his head or something. He’ll be fine by tomorrow. Just bedridden from sadness, y’know?” 
The look you give him is unconvinced, but when Heeseung pats him on the shoulder and waves to you, the boy realizes that maybe staying quiet would’ve been the better decision. 
“I’ll see you later, ____.” And he’s off, waving half-heartedly and dragging a very confused Heeseung out of the cafeteria. 
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NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE TRYING TO WAKE YOU UP AS GENTLY AS HE CAN.
Ever since March started and flowers began to bloom, your energy seemed to do the opposite, dwindling until Riki catches you mirroring his frequent in-class action: sleeping. And it worries him beyond belief, because you’re not the type to fall asleep like… ever. However, Riki does not have the heart to wake you up, even if it’s with a little nudge that you probably barely feel with how light he taps. It breaks his heart to have to ask you to review what he has done, because the bell is about to ring and the teacher might just send you to detention if he catches you off-task. 
The allergies always make Mr. Yoo irritable, and Riki knows not to get on his nerves. 
Your eyes flutter open to the pokes and prodding from none other than Nishimura Riki, who gazes at you softly when you adjust to the bright classroom setting once more. 
Panic settles in. “Wait- how long was I sleeping for?” 
He shrugs and scrunches his nose, not giving you an answer as he finishes scribbling something in his notebook. 
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” Your hand squeezes into a fist at the frustration that you’ve let your partner down. 
And yet, Riki seems to be unfazed, frowning when he sees you stressing out. “Don’t ever sweat the little things, yeah? If there’s anything you ever need to talk about–trust me, I know what it’s like to have a lot of pressure on your shoulders.”
Smiling at him, you respond with, “Thank you, really.” 
Being treasurer is daunting in the spring. It’s full of requests, forms, and small tasks that leave you spent by the end of the day. “But,” you glance at the clock to see just how much time is left, “how’d you know?” 
He motions to your open computer with a now dark screen. “I saw your document pulled up. ____’s tasks or else she will be kicked out of student government,” he taunts, snickering when your eyes grow wide with embarrassment and you lightly nudge his shin with your foot in warning. 
“It’s not polite to snoop,” and although you say that, you catch something in your peripheral vision. It’s a few drawings of a figure and gadget drawn, shaded from rigid shapes with small descriptions pointing to different places. You weren’t sure what was more surprising; how good the drawings were, or the subject of his imagination. 
Weird. Inherently, there was nothing wrong with Riki drawing a villain, and you chalked it up to him being creative. Nothing more, nothing less. 
He puts his hands up in surrender at your last comment, his grin showing anything but. Just one look at the boy makes you realize that everything you’ve just thought about is foolish. 
There’s no way he’d have time to be a villain and a student. With one final thought, you let your raging thoughts rest and focus on the present; him. You’ve seen his hair messy, especially after his naps, but when Riki tries to style it like how he did today, you pay more attention to the streaks of blonde and how he often hides behind his bangs and scrunches his nose. It’s cute. He’s cute.
The truth is, you enjoy being around him like this, joking around and never worrying too much about your responsibilities and expectations. It’s refreshing. Being around Riki gives you the feeling that things will be okay in the end. 
You snap out of your thoughts to see that his desk is empty, while your’s hasn’t changed one bit.
“You’re going to sell prom tickets now, right?” He makes small talk before leaving for lunch, closing the notebook you were suspiciously eying before slipping it into his bag. 
“Yup,” you answer, popping the ‘p,’ “I’ll see you later,” and you two part ways.
All the long lines and constant distribution of change doesn’t allow much wiggle room for you to daydream. As time goes on, the ticket-selling line grows smaller and smaller, but the only thing you truly care about is eating the lunch your parents packed you. Your sandwich is probably sad and soggy now that there are only a few minutes of lunch left. When you finally sign off one last time after triple checking the forms are all correct, you let out a sigh, leaning back and finally getting a break. 
Then, it hits you that you’re not even sure if the boy you’re fawning over is attending the biggest event of the year, and you feel stupid for forgetting to ask. 
-
Yesterday was a rookie’s mistake–today, you’d make sure you get an answer from him.
“Are you going to prom, Riki?” is the first thing you ask when he sits down, grabbing his book and laptop with a little too much enthusiasm. 
“I’m thinking about it.” Yeah, whatever confidence he had when convincing himself he’d ask you out isn’t serving him well at this moment. Quite frankly, Riki feels lame as ever trying to be nonchalant around you. “You?” 
“I’d have to set up, so I would be there, yes. But whether or not I have a date is another story.” You smile to lighten the mood, but Riki watches you and nods, focusing back on signing into his laptop and getting his notes for the new book you’re reading. 
“Well, you’re not the only single one here.” And he wants to reprimand himself for saying something without thinking. “If someone asked, would you say yes?”
You think about it carefully, really because you don’t have anyone in mind when it comes to prom if Riki’s not planning on going. “It’d have to be someone I know—someone I talk to somewhat regularly. I’d be nice to be with someone who doesn’t make it awkward.”
Nishimura Riki might die from over-thinking if he keeps on wondering whether or not he fits that description to a tee.
RIKI'S TO-DO LIST BEFORE PROM
☐  talk to ____ regularly 
☐  don't make it awkward 
☐  be..cute? 
The boy decides that his superhuman responsibilities might be easier to complete than any of those three things. 
He switches the subject to stop his head from hurting too much. “Did you finish the report?” 
You still, and Riki’s question reminds you of the report looming over your head. In your defense, you two hadn’t brought it up much in the past week, and he didn’t seem to worry over how much of your time was spent emailing teachers or making spreadsheets. Although caught off guard, you’re quick to respond with, “What did we have to finish? I thought we were done since last week, but if there’s anything else-” 
“Sorry,” he rushes out, biting his lip, “I meant, if you finished reading it.” And the answer is no, you haven’t read it since your last edit on it three days ago. 
Within a few clicks, you find the document and scroll to the bottom, seeing the small note that Riki left that said ‘let me know how it looks.’ It’s sweet to know he thought about your input as much as you did his. 
“While some can agree that Gatsby’s rise into high society was sketchy, Gatsby still retains the same reserved character from years ago, and doesn’t manipulate others into success or use his money for nefarious purposes. It’s not like he changed after his wealth, and it could be argued Gatsby loved Daisy until his last breath and was willing to die as long as she was happy, emphasizing the theme of sacrifice. 
So, is Jay Gatsby a good person? The question targets the morality of a character who many can empathize with. Those who are charmed by his overwhelming love for Daisy would say that he’s committed textbook crimes, but focus more on the intent behind it. To pine after someone from a distance isn’t easy, but to pursue her after years of separation is even harder. It’s universally agreed, however, that love as a driving force doesn’t nullify what he’s done to others and the dirty schemes he’s enacted to gain the power he has. Therefore, Gatsby makes for an interesting main character, and highlights just how twisted a system around money can be.” 
The last page is–for the most part–his writing, and your admiration for him grows when you finish reading and scroll to hit your Works Cited page.
“It’s good,” you tell him wholeheartedly, “Didn’t think you had it in you.” 
Riki cracks a smile at your light teasing, soaking up your praise. 
“Now you know.” He shrugs. And he can only hope that you like him as much as you like his literary skills. 
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NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE WHEN HE COMES TO THE REALIZATION THAT HE IS EXACTLY LIKE JAY GATSBY,JUST WITHOUT THE MONEY—DESPERATE FOR THE GIRL OF HIS DREAMS, DYING YOUNG, AND A FRAUD HIDING BEHIND SECRETS.
Nevermind the last one, he has to hide when he has an identity to protect as the city’s only superhero, but Riki feels his heart sink to his heels when he read a few weeks ago how much Gatsby simply adores Daisy. When Gatsby died, he scoffed, closing the book with a sudden disinterest. If he were the male lead, he wouldn’t have been laying in a pool for target practice. Maybe being a superhero teaches you how to avoid being easy bait for all your enemies, or maybe Gatsby was too carried away with love to think straight. 
Fighting crime gives you insurmountable experience with sneaking around, but it wasn’t something he could just teach to anyone. When he gets this horrible gut feeling that something’s happened to you, he just knew something was wrong. He might not be easy to catch, but for anyone else? Definitely.  
For everyone else, prom was a month away, but for you, it was three weeks of talking to your advisor and president, arguing with your other board members, and sitting behind that damn money box for another five days to sell tickets. For you, it was realizing that you were supposed to buy streamers and balloons yesterday on your way home from school. It was the thinly veiled disappointment in your board member’s texts when they told you they were at a loss for words. ‘I’m sorry, and I know you’re busy, but how could you forget? Prom is so important for all of us. What if they don’t have what you need anymore?’ It all repeated in your head as you bit your lip in frustration and slipped on the first pair of shoes you could find. Although it was dark and dangerous, you could care less if it meant avoiding the passive aggressive comments you’d get tomorrow during your meeting.
There it is again: that little tendency to not pay attention to your surroundings. 
You yelp when you feel someone grabbing your wrist and pulling you in, muffling your screams as he pulls you along. To see him on the news was worrying, but to see Spark in person with your life on the line is even worse. 
Tears spring to your eyes as you struggle against the metal to no avail, and you curse every previous moment you spent worrying about balloons rather than your safety.
Spark suddenly stops, shoving you against the wall before his hand grabs a brick with his metal arm, beginning to climb. “Don’t let go.” And you don’t think twice before holding on.
The city view would be beautiful if you weren’t hearing your heartbeat in your ears or if you weren’t dangling from the railing of some company building, trying to wiggle yourself free of the rope around your wrists. 
Spark speaks up, drumming his fingers on the railing next to you. “You wouldn’t happen to know where your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man is, would you?” And you furrow your eyebrows, genuinely questioning for a moment if he really knew how the superhero operated. 
A voice from across the street puts a temporary hold on your thoughts, and you glance up to see a flash of blue and red soaring through the air, followed by a groan and a beam of light next to you. Seeing Spark’s powers right in front of you spurs you into action, yanking at the rope and trying to take tiny steps away from where they were fighting.
“From what I’m seeing, you wanted to hold someone hostage because you’re not feeling too good, huh?” Spider-Man shouts as he shoots out webs and blocks hits. You shake your head in partial disbelief of how unserious he is, but also how unbelievable all of this seems. “You tried to take a potion or something? I’m going to tell you this now, but these usually don’t work.” 
Riki’s assumption is right, and considering how Spark now has a leg and arm from metal instead of just the arm, the procedure for the additional limb couldn’t have been easy. The superhero still proceeds with caution, making sure to pay attention to anything new as he dodges and fights back. 
The villain immediately gets back up, stumbling for a moment before he regains his stance and runs towards the boy. You hear the clanging of fist hitting metal from their fight, and considering the difference in height and build, you’d expect Spider-Man to be easily flung to the side, but he holds his weight in battle. 
Riki aims for around the left shoulder, where an abundance of stitches cover the skin and fuse the metal into muscle. He lands a hit, and almost another one, before a punch to the side knocks him from his momentum. The boy wheezes when his back makes instant contact with the ground, rolling and getting up before Spark has time to shoot. 
He notices how quickly the gadget generates electricity now. Before, the beams took longer, and were easily predictable, but now, it glows bright for a moment before it fires directly in Riki’s path. The boy dodges the first, but the second one almost hits the top of his head before he ducks and creates distance. 
From the roof-top, Riki scans his surroundings before making the split-second decision to jump. 
He swings to the other side of the building, keeping you in his peripheral vision as he works on apprehending the villain in front of him. They spring into yet another fist fight, with Riki’s agility easily letting him avoid punches and land precise hits to make the previous injuries even worse. 
You think Spider-Man has the upper hand in this, seeing as how none of Spark’s punches seem to slow down the superhero, but you hear something loud before you can register it. 
You figure out what happened after Riki stumbles and suffers a blow to the stomach, sending him tumbling to the edge of the building. Spark knew that Spider-Man was avoiding his left arm—he knew that one wrong move paired with the tungsten material would have a lasting effect on the superhero’s fist. 
Riki coughs from the impact before his spidey-sense rings, pulling him back into battle as he runs as fast as his body can take him. 
You. He still needs to save you. 
With renewed vigor, he continues to avoid the flying sparks as he ducks between structures and uses the terrain to his advantage. He can tell, though, that the villain is slowing down. The shots are less accurate–a telltale sign that the enhancer Spark tried is working against him. 
Between all of the chaos, Riki finally lands a proper web, yanking as hard as he can to pull Spark to the ground. He stumbles, grasping at thin silk before Riki lets go on his side. The villain’s balance is off, giving the boy an advantage as he closes the distance, hopping over a thrown slab of metal and landing a solid kick into Spark’s ribcage. As he stays down, Riki continues to aim for muscle and flesh, his head spinning as he packs punch after punch to keep the villain apprehended. 
Spark’s body–curled into itself to absorb the hits the best that he can– hides the growing blue flash that he’s slowly charging up with his remaining power. The moment it escapes from under his abdomen, Riki directs his efforts towards avoiding the electric glimmer. The villain rolls over, his body tattered from the consistent injuries, and he fires what seems like an intense bullet of energy. It zips by the boy’s cheek, cutting the mask and leaving blood to run down in its wake. Time slows down as the superhero tries to process the unlocked speed of the burst, and Spark loses focus marveling at his new abilities. Never before had either of them seen power so concentrated, and it inflicts both fear and excitement. 
He lifts his arm, the other holding it up for support, and Spider-Man notices the fizzle of bright blue. Riki’s about to jump out of the way, preparing for yet another high-speed bullet, but before Spark fires, something clicks. The arm doesn’t directly point to Riki–but it skews off to the right.
Except, he’s no longer aiming for Riki in the split second that the boy blinks. He’s suddenly aiming at you, where your hands are tied to the railing and your feet are dangling from the bent metal that holds you precariously over the edge, leaving a fifty foot drop in its wake. When you see the blue energy in the villain’s palm growing slowly bigger, you pull at the rope desperately with zero regard to the tender rawness of your wrists. 
In your attempt to somehow break the rope, your cry of fear snaps Spider-Man into action. 
Riki pushes his sore body to jump as quick as he can, leaping across the rooftop to the building over. He easily avoids the metal railing, grabbing onto your arm as he yanks hard on the rope, the force of it separating a piece of metal from the railing. He immediately jumps, sending out a web to swing him back up. It all happens in a flash–first, you were bound to the edge about to fall to your death, and all of a sudden, you’re tightly pressed against Spider-Man’s chest with your bound wrists still attached to the metal. Shutting your eyes, you trust Spider-Man entirely, closing your eyes to avoid seeing just how far up you were. Wind rushes in your ears and leaves your stomach fluttering with butterflies until the superhero sets you down on a secluded rooftop. 
“Please,” he begs, “don’t leave. I’ll be right back.” 
You’d be a fool to do anything but wait. 
Riki checks on you one last time before diving down, springing himself back up with another web. The damage from the blasts is recognizable even from far away, and yet, he notices the reflective shine of a metal arm on the edge of the building before Spark lets go. 
To Riki, Spark is dead after dropping from a fall having taken that much damage, but he hears no impact. Making haste, the boy fails to find any figure no matter how hard he looks, but Spark’s laboratory has to be here somewhere. The badge from a week ago was stuck on Riki’s mind, and he could only imagine the reasons why he pursued this life. Was he recreating something? If he needs to power some sort of machine, then the heart of the city is a perfect place to harness the electricity for any large scale project. As much as he wants to dedicate the rest of the night to searching the city for some sort of clue, the fact that you’re still stranded on that rooftop after having just experienced a life-changing event blares like an alarm in his mind. 
He quickly leaves, returning to where you’re seated.
Without the fear of falling to your death from earlier, you were able to focus on undoing the knots from the rope. Red scratch marks and irritation bloom on your wrist, and the reality of it all happening still hasn’t settled in. Despite not being harmed once, the fear and incessant pounding of your heart overwhelms your senses, and it leaves you heaving with confusion. 
A pair of footsteps only become apparent as Riki walks closer, taking a seat beside you and letting out a large sigh. He stares at the stars silently as if he doesn’t have a cut on his cheek and bruises waiting to paint his skin purple–as if he isn’t hiding his true self under a facade. 
“You’re not hurt, are you?” You shake your head, grateful that Spider-Man was the reason you got away without a real injury.
“Thank you, really, for saving me. I don’t know how you manage to do it.” 
Riki chuckles under the mask. “Eh, you get used to it,” you hear Spider-Man say. “You fight a couple bad guys, get over a fear of heights and eventually you get the hang of things.” 
Scoffing, you gently rub at your wrists to ease the redness. “Easy for you to say. I haven’t been taught a crash course on how to avoid being supervillain bait just yet.” 
“Maybe you should learn it sometime,” Riki responds absentmindedly, “someone like you shouldn’t have been out so late doing whatever it could’ve been.” 
Sighing, your mind drifts off to think about the balloons and streamers that are not in your hand. “I had stuff for my upcoming events.” 
He knew about all of it when you’d explain your cryptic reminders and notes on your computer, but he still feigns curiosity. “What upcoming events?” 
“Just prom,” and he hears just how strained it makes you. 
Riki tilts his head in faux confusion. “What do you have to do for prom?” 
He notices how you immediately slump, as if the mere mention of prom deflates your happiness. “It’s only a few weeks away, and I was supposed to get decorations for our venue yesterday. I just wanted to slip out before my parents noticed.” 
Despite the fabric over his eyes, Riki’s expression shifts from surprise to pity when he understands your stakes. “You still need to be careful. Is your student council strict?” 
“Not strict necessarily, but judgemental–I ran for the position because I thought I could help my school raise funds and find more opportunities, but it just feels like no one truly wants to try anything new.” You wave it off as if it’s not that important, as if it isn’t the reason why you find yourself stressed so often. “I just don’t want to disappoint or give people something to talk about.” 
Despite not being involved with school the same way you are, the boy next to you resonates with the fear you currently face. The fear of letting people down was a large part of why Riki continued to put on that mask and step into the most dangerous situation of his life; he never wanted to sit down to hear the news that Spider-Man quit. 
So he keeps doing his job, even if some days are harder and some fights aren’t worth winning–just like what you do. 
“Yeah, I get that,” he tries to console, “You must be doing a lot for everyone around you, and I’m sure a lot of people appreciate what you’ve done. Don’t beat yourself up too much, yeah? You’ll always have me.” He smiles, but he knows you don’t see it. You’re looking at the stars, trying to calm your mind and return to your life before everything happened. 
You glance over at Spider-Man, wondering if he’ll truly be around for you when you need it. “If I need to talk to you, should I step out of my house past 8PM again?” 
Riki chuckles, watching clouds slowly dim the moon’s glow in their path. “If I’m not fighting crime, I’ll show up at a moment’s notice.” 
There’s no way he means it, but you grin, feeling a lot of the pressure and stress of earlier slowly wash away. After all, nothing happened to you–Spider-Man made sure of it. Maybe things really were going to be okay. 
“Let’s get you home, yeah? Don’t you have stuff to do anyways?” 
You shrug, nothing really coming to mind. As you get up, you remember having to run a plagiarism check on your work, and how Riki told you to text him when you got home after your student government meeting. 
Riki. Spark. Spider-Man. 
“Wait,” you tell Spider-Man, sitting back down on the cement, “I need to talk to you about something else, too.” 
“It’s not like my dinner’s getting cold,” the superhero mumbles quiet enough that you can’t hear. 
“There’s this guy,” you start, paying no mind to how dirty your clothes are getting when you cross your legs. 
Spider-Man scoffs, looking off into the distance, and it makes you believe he has to be your age or older. “You have a crush on him, or something?” And a whole tidal wave of deja vu hits you in the chest. 
‘He must be badly hurt’ isn’t just something people say. People don’t just draw insanely detailed drawings of Spark’s arm and machines without notes to follow unless they knew. People wouldn't just randomly miss school without any impending signs. You’re sure of it–the tired naps in class, the random drawings of superheroes and superhumans alike, or how awkward he could act–it all makes sense.
Your classmate, aka Nishimura Riki, aka the guy who you’ve questioned if you had a crush on for the past few days, might be a villain. 
The swirling feeling of trepidation in your stomach leaves three words running around your head. 
What. The. Fuck. 
Although you tried so hard to stop thinking about it, Jake’s comment from before rubbed you the wrong way. It was sometime last week where you couldn't get your mind off of the implications of his words, but that feeling was brushed underneath your responsibilities. 
Until now. 
“Yeah, there’s this guy,” you breathe, feeling your chest constrict, “Nishimura Riki. I think he’s Spark.” 
His blood runs cold. 
“You think this…why?” 
You take a deep breath, trying to organize all your thoughts. “Well, first, it was his friend, Jake. He said that Riki was badly hurt, and I was really confused at first, but tried to let it go.” 
Riki was going to strangle his best friend. 
“And then, I was looking at him in class, right? And keep in mind, he’s pretty cute, and we sit next to each other, so I just noticed how good his hair looked that day, but his notebook was out, and I saw all these drawings of Spark. Like, the arms, the metal things, even the projectiles! Who would know the ins and outs of that thing if it wasn’t Spark himself?”
He didn’t know what to think about first; the fact that you gushed about him for the first time, or if he should even tell you that Spider-Man would know those things, too. 
“And sometimes, I notice he’s a little awkward around me. I can’t explain it. It’s like he’s paying attention to me. That must’ve been why he captured me.” He wants to laugh at how damn close you are to figuring it out, but in reality, nothing is funny about the situation. 
Nishimura Riki is actually listening to this, right now, as Spider-Man–not Spark. The awkwardness, though? It was his crush on you, and was not superhuman related in the slightest.  
“I don’t know,” he attempts to divert, pretending to focus, “I saw a badge for FLiGHT. You know the company that’s been making time traveling machines? I saw a glimpse of his name and face. It’s not that guy you mentioned.” 
You raise an eyebrow. “And you haven’t gotten him caught?” 
“Villains aren’t easy to find, y’know. It’s not like playground hide and seek,” Riki defends, crossing his arms. 
You shrink in your spot, feeling sheepish for questioning a superhero so bluntly. 
“Plus,” he continues, “Spark has never had a hostage. Wouldn’t it be pretty mean of that friend of yours to kidnap a girl from his class?” 
“Yeah—that makes sense. Thank god,” you breathe, closing your eyes momentarily. “Then what do you suspect all that evidence leads to? Maybe he’s a secret agent?” 
“I think,” Riki continues to keep up his clueless facade, “Your friend might just be clumsy. Or creative. I mean, maybe he went through a break-up?” Nice one, Riki. 
You shake your head. “No, there’s no way he has a girlfriend. You’d think I like guys who are taken?” Scoffing lightly, you then remembered that Spider-Man really would have no idea who any of you are. 
He shrugs and stands up stretching before motioning for you to follow him. “I have no idea what you high school kids do. Come on, let’s get you home.” 
As you hug him tight, the cold air whips around your body and leaves goosebumps in their wake. You barely open your eyes from the fear of seeing yourself inches from hitting a building or up in the air. Spider-Man only yells his confirmation after asking how to get you home, finally placing you on the ground outside of your large gate. 
“Thank you for saving me tonight.”
“Anytime. Figure things out with that friend of yours, and don’t go out late, okay?” You nod and take his words to heart. 
“Goodnight, Spiderman.” 
—-
Nishimura might die. One, because he has this horrible guilty feeling in his stomach, and two, because of a villain. 
Yesterday, he ignored the salmon and rice bowl that waited for him back at home, choosing to follow the coordinates he saved on his phone after he took you home. It led him to a seemingly harmless auto-shop, with an arrow on his GPS pointing to a garage that was shut down completely with nails and blocked with boxes. The exterior pointed to it being abandoned, but Riki suddenly saw some light coming from a makeshift above.
The boy scaled the wall as quietly as possible, glancing into the source of the whirring. He caught small glimpses of something–metal, glowing, blue. 
Or at least, for a few seconds it was on until the power went out. 
The voice that complained from inside the room sounded identical to the man Riki fought. Spark grumbled, turning on a flashlight and quickly waving it around. Riki ducked from the window and held his breath, waiting for the man to suspect something. 
Nothing. 
One lightbulb slowly flickered back on, and then the other dingy light followed. The space was cramped with the metal equipment in the middle, resembling what Riki had seen in the news. 
He was right–it was the same time travel portal that was ruined from a few months ago. 
Spider-Man continued to observe the man as he worked and drilled, plugging certain wires or pausing momentarily to read from a journal. To anyone, it’d seem peaceful, like some sort of renovation project. But in reality, it was so much more than that. 
Riki searched for any sort of information about the machine, trying to see what exactly was left to do until his gaze landed on something. 
There was some sort of date on a bright pink sticky-note, and Riki’s eyes widened when he finally comprehends it. 
The machine was scheduled to be completed tomorrow. 
-
A street lamp next to Riki dies out—which was a clear sign that something was powering up. From the dark, he hears the metal from the same place as last night moving again, and he knows that Spark has left. His presence sends anyone down the street and immediately running, leaving the area for only them two. 
Riki finally sees the completed metal build. Half of his body is wrapped in or replaced with metal parts as he sets down the metal portal, beginning to push it in the direction of the power plant. 
A truck or car would make things much easier, but whatever.
Riki wants to cry from fear and run away. He wants to leave and pretend he never saw anything from last night. 
He’s going to die fighting Spark and he will quite literally a) never finish highschool and get that stupid diploma, b) finish explaining how Gatsby is not a good person and is naturally selfish, and c) he’s never going to tell you how he’s had a small crush on you ever since he saw your cute campaign video as to why you should vote y/n l/n for student body treasurer last spring. 
“You sure that thing works?” Riki asks, jumping into action as he sends webs to immobilize the machine. 
“You’re annoying, you know that?” Spark sends a projectile in the superhero’s direction, hitting the wall behind him instead as Riki jumps out of the way.
With another duck mid-air and the roof of a flying car dangerously close to his nose, Riki thanks the dance practice he does for his flexibility as he shoots another web and swings away. 
Spark is uncontrollable by now, sucking the light from street lamps and fizzing wires in his wake. He has no idea how he’s supposed to get in contact with the villain like before. The body of his suit fizzes with bright electricity that sizzles and pops. It illuminates Spark’s figure, making him easy to spot, but not so easy to defeat. It’s an overload of power, causing the voltage to escape between the joints and gaps of the metal pieces in his suit. And Riki can feel it; the air is heightened and so are the stakes of this fight—and with how the man that stands in front of him looks upgraded and menacing, he knows only one person can make it out of this fight alive. 
“You injected the city’s ‘Gas and Electric’ into your system or what?” Riki calls out, making light of the situation. If he’s being honest with himself, he’s scared out of his wits seeing the six foot figure with blue and white shooting from every crack, looking like a nightmare to touch.
Riki avoids a few more angrily thrown objects, using the momentum of his jump from the side of the building to zip from the top of a yellow fire hydrant to go from one side of the street to the other. “You’re slow!” He taunts, tucking in his legs to avoid a shot of electricity directed at him. 
The screech of metal from the nearby hydrant can be heard as the top flings off, making Riki lose his anchor/ Before he can process it, instead of smoothly landing on the building, he crashes into it faster than expected, groaning when his back makes contact with the glass and he tumbles into the living room of someone’s apartment. 
“Fuck,” he curses, fighting his aching limbs to get up once more. 
And the solution hits him. Literally. 
When he steps out and quickly attaches a web to the top of the building, he’s met on the way up with a splash of water from the hydrant to his face, and Riki splutters as he wipes his mask, regaining focus as he lands on the concrete and hides behind the ledge. 
Water. If he can get it in contact with Spark and pour enough water on the right spot, the excess of electricity blazing from his mechanical body should work against him. 
“Too scared? You should know better than to run away.” The superhero rolls his eyes, crawling away silently to avoid being seen by Spark. Riki does his best to look around for something, and finds a black flower pot in the corner, using a web to grab it before he scales the side of the building and runs away while Spark is distracted as the villain also climbs the wall to face him there. But when Spark climbs the ledge and scans the premise, Riki is nowhere to be seen. 
Instead, Riki swings across the street and fills the pot with water, heaving the extra weight as he shouts out from the sudden pain in his side. He stumbles on the pavement, crying out from the injury as the pot falls with his whole plan. 
Maybe this is where Spider-Man dies. 
He sucks in a deep breath before rolling from his back onto his knees, ignoring the wound to pick up the flower pot. The hydrant still shoots out water, and the superhero rushes towards it, causing Spark to follow. He narrowly avoids another shot from behind him, reaching the yellow hydrant before dropping the pot on the ground. Spark is th 
While Spark has always been intelligent, Riki could tell that the man didn’t fear the water, believing he’d be invincible to the elements now that his suit was perfected. There was something off, Riki could tell, and he would make sure to use it to his advantage. Spark was uncontrolled, and his powers drastically decreased the more he used them. There’s no way his body isn’t in overdrive with how recklessly he’s been letting himself get hurt. 
Riki uses a web to get himself on higher ground instead of fighting, waiting for the supervillain to follow. If he could get Spark off the edge and fall into the growing puddle of water, it should slow him down. 
Spark scoffs. “Run away, then. Like you always have.” Riki hears the wall crumbling under the villain as he climbs within seconds, immediately preparing to fight when he makes it onto the rooftop. But Spider-Man was also prepared, jumping from his crouched hiding position and attempting to catch Spark off guard. 
All he can focus on now is pushing him off. There’s no way it’d be easy, considering he had to focus on his touching any of the electricity off of his suit. Riki delivers a kick to Spark in the ribcage near his heart, where he’s fused metal into flesh. The villain coughs before taking a step back, his metal arm reaching for Riki’s outstretched leg. He grabs it, twisting with anger before the boy meets the ground in a violent throw. Not only is the slam greater because of the enhanced strength, but the power seeps into Riki’s skin, leaving it hot from the energy radiating off of his palm. 
The boy groans, flipping to his side to avoid a fatal hit to the chest. He reaches for Spark’s normal arm, swinging the villain’s body away with as force as he could to create distance between them. 
Riki has been in enough fights to simply know when to run, even if he doesn’t know what’s coming. He could feel the tingle of the charge as it powered up, and with its energy so unrestrained and its user so unstable, the large attempt to hit Riki sends the villain stumbling back from the force. The more Spark uses his powers, the more likely he’s going to end up dead. 
“Your skin can handle that anymore!” he shouts, getting ready to swing himself closer as a plan manifests itself in his head. “You’ll die like this!” 
Spark seems to know that too as he wipes his mouth and recovers from Riki’s attacks. 
“You think I care?” He shouts, desperately pressing his wounds to stop the bleeding. “You think I have anything else for myself?” The vulnerability of his character shines through as he clutches his bleeding wound without regenerative powers to help. “You think I didn’t know that when I did it to myself--what they did to me?” 
Riki doesn’t respond, grimacing as he continues hand-to-hand combat. Although he takes a solid punch to his jaw that’s forming a deep purple bruise, he manages to trip Spark onto the ground.
The man stumbles back from the head injury, the pounding from earlier not letting him to think straight. Riki doesn’t try to injure him anymore, but he instead blocks an incoming punch and tries to force Spark towards the edge. 
The villain barely notices how much space there is left, and the boy lunges with full force. They tackle each other into the ground, and Riki gets off after apprehending him once more. 
The city's a mess, and Spider-Man’s eyes want to shut down so badly, but he takes a few steps in Spark’s direction, pushing him off the side of the building as quickly as he can. Riki hears the thud before he peeks over the edge, seeing the water erode all of the engineering from the machinery. He slowly descends from the rooftop. 
“You were in the accident, huh?” Riki shouts on top of the plethora of sounds. Pain, buzzing electricity, splashes of water as he lands next to Spark; it all echoes in his ears as he pours the water from the pot on Spark’s body. “Why did you try it? Why did you want to go back so bad?”
“If I could go back,” Spark coughs, trying to get away from the large pool of water, “I could’ve prevented the accident from taking the lives of the people around me. I could’ve saved them.” 
Spider-Man understands loss, and he understands the regret that comes with failure. He understands how the man in front of him feels after having everything taken away from him, but his emotions could never justify his actions. 
“You know you can’t change things,” Riki responds, “You tried your best, Spark.” It’s the last thing Riki tells the villain before his body slumps and police sirens grow louder and louder. It’s the last thing that he continues to think about, even if the medic quickly assesses the severity of his wounds. 
“I’m fine- really,” he pushes away the hands of a concerned woman as she holds a roll of bandages. “There’s something else I need to do.” 
Riki knew he had to tell you about this–he couldn’t just let you confide in him about..well, him, without your knowledge. And Riki wasn’t morally perfect, but he knew an explanation would be the only way to fix things.
Your house looks different when jumping over the fence instead of standing in front of it. When he realizes he has no idea what room belongs to you, he racks his brain, suddenly remembering how yours was the only one with a gray balcony over the pool. And so he climbs, slipping from the exhaustion creeping into his body. 
You’ll understand after he explains everything, right? 
“____, a little help?” And what the fuck is Nishmura Riki doing outside of your door? You go to investigate the muffled sound, inching towards the curtains and pulling them back to expect him there. When you hear a half yelp and a hissing sound that follows right after, without a person anywhere in sight, your heart drops to its stomach. 
Do not say it’s true. 
“Riki, where the fuck are you?” you ask, traversing out when you don’t see him anywhere across the glass. 
“Down here.” You run in the direction of the voice, and your eyes grow comically large and you gasp, staring down at the sight before you. 
“Holy shit.” 
There Nishimura Riki is, with his mask half burned off his face and his blonde and black hair messy and matted to his forehead with sweat. The suit is ripped in multiple locations with gashes and purple replacing the healthy skin underneath. His face is in more of a grimace, as he holds onto the web with both hands and one foot planted on the stone of your balcony—read; the bottom of your balcony. 
“A little help?” And you see his sheepish emotion through the tattered fabric, embarrassed after you had to find him in such a compromising situation. “I’m a little worn out and I think my webs are getting weaker.”
You’re a little frustrated with him for being out so publicly, but more scared and worried for his condition. Your gaze narrows on the mask, tattered and covered with scratches, but clearly visible. It was Spider-Man’s mask. The material gives way to a familiar face, and your mind almost blocks you from putting the pieces together. It’s impossible, almost horrifying to think of the implications of what it means to wear the blue and red suit. 
Instead of being the villain, Riki is, in fact, the savior.
The harsh truth is that your classmate, who you spent the last month working on a project with and suspected was a villain, is the same superhero that went out and risked his life every night fighting crime. It’s jarring to see him like this, breathing heavy and straining against the stone of the balcony, and his cough snaps you out of it. “What the fuck do I do?” 
Riki tries to put his hand up in surrender and shuts his eyes at your harsh tone. “Okay, okay, I get-“ and he cuts himself off with a yelp as his footing slips. 
He holds out his hand, and you immediately bend over the smooth railing to grab it, leaning back on the heels of your feet to help him up the most that you can. You’re filled with confusion when the boy hobbles over the cool surface of the balcony and lets his head rest on the stone, not saying much as he catches his breath. You watch the rise and fall of his chest and how his right arm goes to nurse the left side of his ribcage, wincing and sucking in a pained breath as he assesses the smear of red on his fingers. 
Sitting there with your mouth agape, you’re not really sure what to think about first; to check if RIki’s alright, to think about how your city’s greatest superhero is your English project partner, to yell at him for going to your house instead of his house to fix himself up, or to think about how good his side profile looks in the moonlight. Maybe you should’ve just been relieved that the boy you started to like wasn’t a fear-inducing villain.
“Okay, first of all, we need to have a huge talk. But I’m not a medic Riki- I’m going into accounting for fuck’s sake.” He hears the amount of curses flying from your lips as you ramble, and sees how stressed you look watching him sit against your railing. 
“I don’t know how to help you. And also,” you lower your voice and scoot closer, looking around at the large property to really make sure no one’s listening. “you’re Spider-Man?” 
The information all hitting you at once is worse than when your history teacher told you your essay was horrible. At least then, in her office, you could process everything. But here? You’re about to faint. 
“I’m pretty cool, huh?” And of course Nishimura Riki says such a thing, taking deep breaths as he shallowly presses on the blossoming bruises on his skin and wipes the sweat from his brow. 
“Pretty fucking stupid is what it is, Riki.” You cross your arms and try to take a look at where he’s been hurt, hoping that at least he has some sort of regeneration ability that helps him heal much quicker—because there’s no way he could deal with all of this on top of school. 
“I have my reasons,” he says, his voice quiet. 
You pause. “For being Spider-Man?” 
“No,” he shakes his head. “For coming here.”
“What could possibly make you want to come over to my house instead of the nearest hospital? What’s that important to you?”
“I really want to ask you to prom.” 
You simply stare at him, surprised. 
“You came to my house, even though you’re like, a punch away from passing out, to ask me out? And you couldn’t have, I don’t know, asked me anytime during the classes we have together?”
Riki somehow finds it in himself to frown and shrink from your angry piercing gaze. “I can’t because talking to you makes me nervous–so yeah, I’m sorry I’m half conscious on your balcony in my suit instead of at your door with a poster.” 
You’re conflicted, your mind still reeling from the recent discovery and your flood of emotions. Ever since you questioned his identity on top of your feelings for him, you had a hard time really knowing if you could like Riki if he turned out to be a villain, so to know that he proved both of your theories wrong leaves you quiet as you think. If possible, the color in the boy’s face drains even more when you go back inside, but the door stays open, and he thinks he hasn’t ruined things after all. You emerge with a bottle of isopropyl alcohol, a bowl of warm water, and a pristine white towel. 
“I’m not mad about that, you idiot,” you reprimand him, setting everything down as you examine the cuts on his face. You squeeze the towel and start to dab at his skin, avoiding the cuts as you clean it. “Who does this for you if not me?” 
“Jake.” 
“Seems like a pretty good friend.” Riki nods in response. 
 “I’m sorry,” he sighs, sitting up to properly address you, even if you weren’t able to meet his gaze. 
“For what?”
“For putting this on you–all of it. Not just the whole Spider-Man thing.” He knew he’d have to tell you at some point, or else it’d eat him up inside to know he kept all of it from you. 
“Look at you, saving me mid-air and talking to me as if you didn’t know who I was.”
You notice a flash of regret through his wince as you clean up a cut with antiseptic. “I meant it when I told you I knew what it was like to have a lot of pressure.”
“Guess I wasn’t so far off, then. If we never talked, would you have told me?” Riki shakes his head, and the simple motion leaves you somehow disappointed. 
“How do you ever tell anyone you’re…y’know, Spider-Man?” Even if it’s a hypothetical, you shrug, not being able to answer.
“How’d Jake find out?” 
Riki chuckles and hisses at the same time before trying to remember. “I think I just kicked his window in after a nasty poison got hold of me. He was a little too excited to have Spider-Man on his bedroom floor, and less excited to know it was me. I’m not really supposed to tell anyone, though.”
“Then why’d you tell me? You could’ve just gone back to your friends.” 
“I felt guilty–I know, I know, it sounds stupid. I’d definitely get my identity revealed at this rate.” You shake your head. 
“Not stupid. Keep going.” 
“I didn’t care that you suspected me, or if anyone else did, because I knew it was never true. But I felt so bad knowing you were sharing to me how you felt without even knowing it was me who was listening–like I was holding something from you.” 
You admire his honesty, and when you look at his furrowed brows and his lip that he’s been gnawing from worry, you can’t even imagine what he’s had to hide and do for this. In a way, you look up to him more, for trying his best even if he’s gotten all odds stacked against him. Riki’s commendable in your eyes–he always had been, ever since you woke him up in class. 
“I like those things about you, Riki. That you’re honest with yourself and the people around you as much as you can be, and you try to help others when you can. I’m glad we got to know each other more this past month.” Talking to him feels different than talking to Spider-Man from a few days ago; it feels raw, like you’re not just confessing something to a brick wall anymore. If none of this ever happened, you doubt you’d get the chance to tell Riki any of this properly. 
The boy stays silent, taking deep breaths while processing what you’ve told him. “I’m glad I could help you out.” 
You furrow your eyebrows. “I hope you know I don’t like you because you help me out. I like you because you’re attractive, and because you’re genuine,” you blurt. 
Riki laughs despite his ribcage hurting everytime he does so. Riki nods and mumbles a ‘thank you,’ also glad to truly get to know you. While his crush was more of an infatuation with your hard work and amiability, the past few weeks really opened his eyes to who you were. You never wanted to disappoint, and even if your recklessness left you in some dire situations, Riki could see how much effort you really put into things. 
There wasn’t anything else he needed to tell you–you were smart enough to see how much he cared about you.    
You’re so close, your lips glossy with lip balm as you watch him carefully. You hear and see it all; the heavy, labored breathing from his body healing itself rapidly, and the way his hand is full of rough cuts and calluses as his fingers intertwine with yours. But your eyes catch a glimpse of his mask tossed to the side, the blue shining in the corner of your eyes as you’re reminded of who he is right now, and what role you play. You are still ____ ____, but he’s a superhero.
It makes you momentarily forget whose suit you're peeling away, whose skin you're cleaning. It reminds you that he’s just the boy in your English class that you fell for. “What does that make us?”
“Prom-goers,” he answers with a slight nod. 
You smile, wiping a cut before placing the towel back into the bowl for the last time and getting up. “We can be prom-goers, yeah.” 
You’re not sure if you’re ready for anything, and you’re thankful that he understands that, too. As much as it warmed your heart to see him again and hear his confessions, the blaring truth still hangs over your head. You grab his mask, finally looking at him before handing it back and grabbing your things. His secret identity wasn’t something you could just ignore. 
“Go home, Spider-Man,” you turn your back on him, and time slows when you falter before sparing him one more look. “I want you as Riki, not like this.” 
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MAYBE NISHIMURA RIKI DOESN'T NEED TO DIE–OR ALMOST DIE–ANYMORE. 
He went home that night with his scars somewhat cleaned and his bruises miraculous healing on their own, and even if slipping through the window left him clutching his side in pain, Riki silently jumped up to celebrate his multiple victories before slipping out of his suit and finally getting some rest. 
Riki’s scared of how he’s affected your relationship. He’s worried you’ll avoid him in the halls, and he’s worried you’d never want to see him again after putting you through all of it. As much as he'd understand how upset you'd be towards him, he hopes he did the right thing by telling you.
But you see him on your way to English, and you call his name. His eyes search for yours in the crowds, and you two see each other before you crush him in a hug. 
Riki isn’t sure how to feel at first, but eventually wraps his arms around you as relief settles in his stomach. 
“Thank you for saving me, Spider-Man,” you whisper, loud enough for only him to hear. 
He smiles at you, ruffling your hair as you go to English together. “Anytime, ____.” 
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NEVERMIND, NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE WHEN HE SEES YOU IN YOUR RED PROM DRESS.
But first, he has to try something out. 
He curses to himself when silently zipping from a tree outside your family property to the top of your house, staring past the ledge two and luxurious stories to your well decorated porch light and door. He just prays that Google Maps is  right about how secluded the area is, so no one can see him pacing around your rooftop, with flowers elegantly wrapped in his hand (courtesy of your mother’s sleek envelope from a few days ago). 
“Fuck it,” he says to himself, shooting a web and dangling himself down. Riki’s upside down figure watches swirled window frames and meticulously designed accents as he descends, and he wonders what kind of shady business your parents could’ve done to afford something so grand. 
He faces your door—hanging down instead of rightside up, but he’s still here on time like he promised. 
The door opens at 6:00PM like he instructed you to, but what he didn’t tell you what to do was shriek and slam the door. On his nose. With a loud yelp, Riki clutches his nose, rubbing the spot you hit and trying to apply pressure to alleviate the pain. 
When the door slowly creaks open again, you face with the image of Nishimura Riki, aka your boyfriend, aka your English partner, aka Spider-Man, curled upside down in the fetal position as he cradles the sore spot on his face and swings slightly from the breeze. 
“You scared me, dumbass! How was I supposed to know it was you? It was so hard to see!” 
Although muffled, Riki’s able to mumble, “You have a porch light for this reason, _____,” and a jab at his stomach from you follows his sarcastic remark. Finally, his nose feels better, and he straightens out to finally look at you. 
Pretty, pretty, pretty, and the boy wonders how you look even more stunning with a glittering red dress and perfectly done make-up. “I like the red,” he says, trying not to freak out over your beauty. “Reminds me of a certain neighborhood superhero.” 
“I have some blue spider earrings to match.” With a beautiful smile, you turn to show him the little accent, and it melts his heart. “Are you okay, though?”
“I’m fine. I should’ve probably put more thought into that.” 
You snicker, sliding into your heels and closing the door behind you. 
“One of us is better at romantic gestures, it seems.” It warrants a scoff, and Riki brings a gloved hand to poke at your forehead teasingly.
“Let me have a do-over, then?” And the way your lips curl up into a bright smile leaves him quiet and in awe. 
“What, were you going to kiss me? Very original, Spider-Man.” With the way the fabric shifts over his features, you can tell he’s pouting. 
“I thought girls liked this.” 
You shrug, pretending you aren’t swept off his feet by the effort he’s put in. Taking a step in his direction, your hands reach up to gently pull the mask over his chin, ears, and then his nose. 
Whispering quietly, you ask, “You’ve kissed other girls upside down?” 
Riki’s quick to shake his head. “You’re the only girl I’d withstand a head rush for.” And god, you just can’t stop yourself from grinning at his sweet, genuine words.
You lean in, placing a small kiss on his nose as a silent apology. Then, you close your eyes and lean into him once more, feeling his hands carefully holding the side of your head and his lips on yours. Your kiss with Riki is saccharine and slow, making you pull away when the urge to beam at him is too much. Your cheeks definitely hurt by how romantic he’s being, and you can’t resist kissing him once more.
“I’m not gonna lie,” he starts, finally letting himself down, “It feels weird.” 
“You ruined the moment.” And he really didn’t, but you enjoy his subtle reactions to your light digs at him. 
“Whatever.” Riki laughs. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.” 
You nod, sitting down on the porch and dragging a manicured nail over your lips with the ghost of his affections, thinking about how you literally just kissed Spider-Man. 
Riki comes back, dusting off his suit and smoothing out the wrinkles, with a large bouquet of red roses and one blue one snuck in there. Your lips stretch into a grin and you accept the bouquet, keeping a mental note to read the card in there.
“You never cease to amaze me, Riki.” It’s the last thing you mutter to the air before you loop your arms around his neck, urging him to lean down as you kiss him once more—this time rightside up, but still as sickly saccharine as the one before it. Your heart is fuzzy with fondness and your eyes glitter with adoration. 
“So, which kiss was better?” he asks when you pull away, a little breathless and dizzy.
You swat his arm and walk past the gates, seeing the sleek limo waiting by the curb. “I don’t know, Spider-Man. Maybe show up in your suit and we’ll try it again.” 
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REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED AND ALWAYS READ!
RIKI FIC DONE!!!! ngl y/n u were right there how did u not know riki was spiderman but whatever idc she's a hard worker not smart LMFOAOAO. my first ever action fic so i hope you enjoy! also i hate the ‘oh he pined after her for 4 years she liked him for 2 months’ bs because I WAS IN IT. and it sucks so i tried to deviate from it :)
꣑ৎ permanent fic taglist (TAGGED IN TEASERS, FICS, HEADCANNONS, DRABBLES, ETC.): @dimplewonie @minleeeknow @heeheesang @mintpjzroll @llvrhee @firstclassjaylee @in-somnias-world @rairaiblog @suneng @mavlogist @sensitively-taken @sumzysworld @simpjay @moons-v @riksaes @txtari @jungwonscatcus @tya0 @sasfransisco @woorcve @shypen @pinkriki @rikisluv @saranghaohoshi @lilifiedeans @wonmyheart @k1ttyluvr @nikisgfff @ramenoil @laurradoesloveu @lvcky-g1rl-syndr0me @ikeulims @missychiefs1404 @qwonyoung23 @yangjungwonnie @onementally-unstabel-kid @microwvdstrawb3rri3s @blooqz @anormieee hi permies hope u enjoy! kith
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simjaexy · 5 days ago
Text
𝙐𝙣𝙨𝙘𝙧𝙞𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙮 | 𝙋.𝙅.
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Pairing ⇀ Crush Best Friend! Park Jongseong x (F) Reader
Synopsis ⇀ You’ve always had a crush on Lee Heeseung ever since he gave you a note, also considering the fact he was one of the most popular boys in school. Considering being popular yourself, you just can’t seem to get his attention no matter what you do. So you decide to fake date Jay, Heeseung's best friend, to get Heeseungs attention. Despite thinking that Jay hates you, you go along with the plan, hoping that Heeseung will finally notice you. As the charade progresses, you found out Heeseung is attracted to people who are experienced. However, you’re a virgin. So why not ask Jay to take your virginity? No feelings will be involved, right?
Genre ⇀ Smut, High School au, Angst, Fluff
Warnings ⇀ MINORS DNI!!!, Cursing, Partying, One sided love, Crying, Drinking, Miscommunications, Jealousy, Break ups, Misunderstanding, Lying, Eating out, Breath play, Grinding, Hickeys, Slow sex, Phone sex, Fingering, Jerking off, Dirty talk, Humiliation, Overstimulation (f), Dom! Jay x Sub! Reader, Missionary, No protection (wrap it up), Aftercare, Receiving (m&f), Jealous sex, Making out, Doggy style, Spanking, Hair pulling, Orgasm Control, Rough sex, Name calling (Good girl, Babe, etc.), Choking, Multiple orgasms, Breeding kink, Blowjob, lmk if I missed any!
W.c ⇀ 16.8k
A/n ⇀ I had to rewrite so many of this because I wasn’t satisfied but I finally finished it! I never made a fic that has more than one sex scene so bear with me on that ^^ If you would like to be on the perm tag list, click here! Like, reblog, comment, etc.! Hope you enjoy! Not proofread!
Masterlist here!
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The school courtyard was buzzing with energy as students milled about, chatting and laughing. You, being one of the popular students, were used to the attention and the constant buzz around you.
Today, however, felt different. You decided to take a moment for yourself and sat down on one of the benches, enjoying the brief respite from the chaos.
As you were scrolling through your phone, lost in your own world, a shadow fell over you. Looking up, you saw a guy you vaguely recognized from one of your classes. He was holding something in his hand, and he looked a bit teasing.
"Hey," he said, shifting from foot to foot, “This is for you."
You raised an eyebrow, curious, “From who?"
He pointed across the courtyard, and your eyes followed his gesture. There, standing with a group of his friends, was Lee Heeseung, one of the school's star basketball players. He was tall, with an athletic build, and a smile that could light up a room. Your heart skipped a beat as you took in his appearance. He was undeniably attractive.
The guy handed you a small envelope and quickly walked away, leaving you to process what had just happened. You looked down at the envelope, your curiosity piqued. Opening it, you found a simple note inside:
Hey, I noticed you sitting here and thought you might like this.
You glanced back at Heeseung, who was now looking your way. When your eyes met, he gave you a small, confident smile and a nod. You felt your cheeks heat up, and your heart leaped in your chest. You gave him back a shy smile and waved. It wasn't every day that someone like Lee Heeseung noticed you, let alone sent you a note and a candy bar.
For the rest of the day, you couldn't get Heeseung out of your mind. His smile, the way he carried himself, and the fact that he had gone out of his way to send you a note – it all made your heart race. You found yourself looking forward to seeing him again, wondering if there might be more to this unexpected connection.
That happened about a month ago. Now, you’re still here waiting for him to make a move, and yet he hasn’t. You thought he was just a shy guy which was probably why he gave you a note, but you smiled back at him. So wouldn’t that give him a hint?
You were sitting in the library, deeply engrossed in your studies. The upcoming exams were looming over you, and you wanted to make sure you were fully prepared. The library was quiet, with only the soft rustling of pages and the occasional whisper breaking the silence. You were so focused on your work that you didn't notice Kazuha approaching until she was right beside you.
“Hey, are you going to the bonfire this weekend?" Kazuha asked, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
You looked up from your books, a bit surprised by her sudden appearance, “I wish I could, but I can't," You replied, sighing, "I have so much to study for, and I really need to focus."
Kazuha pouted, clearly disappointed, "Come on, you need a break! You've been studying non-stop. Plus, it's going to be so much fun. Everyone's going to be there!"
You hesitated, knowing she was right. You had been pushing yourself hard, and a little break wouldn't hurt. But the thought of falling behind on your studies made you nervous, "I don't know, Kazuha. I really need to do well on these exams."
Kazuha wasn't giving up that easily. She leaned in closer, her eyes pleading, “Please? Just for a few hours? You deserve to have some fun too.”
Seeing your hesitation, Kazuha pressed on, “Come on, it'll be great. You can study all you want after the party. Just think about it – a chance to finally talk to Heeseung!"
You sighed, feeling the weight of your decision, "Alright, fine. I'll go to the bonfire," You said, finally giving in, "But only for a little while."
Kazuha's face lit up with joy, "Yes! You won't regret it, I promise. It's going to be amazing."
As the weekend approached, you found yourself getting more and more excited about the bonfire. You spent extra time picking out an outfit, hoping to make a good impression. When the night of the party finally arrived, you felt a mix of nerves and anticipation.
The bonfire was located at the beach. The ocean flowed softly together as the moon shone over the people. There was loud music playing and it was filled with people dancing and laughing. You scanned the crowd, looking for Heeseung. After a few minutes, you spotted him sitting down at the bonfire, talking to a group of friends.
You jumped when you suddenly felt hands around your arms, “You made it!” Kazuha squealed. You gave her a chimed smile.
“I did.” You replied. She grabbed your arm and took you to the bonfire where Heeseung was sitting and sat you across from him.
“I’ll be right back! Here’s a drink.” She said. She gave you a red cup and walked past people, disappearing into the crowd.
You sipped your drink as you scanned the faces illuminated by the flickering flames. Your eyes landed on Heeseung, who was sitting across from you, engrossed in a conversation with his friends. Despite the noise and the number of people around, he hadn’t seemed to notice you.
You decided to just look for Kazuha. You maneuvered through the crowd, your eyes scanning for Kazuha. The salty breeze carried the scent of the ocean, mingling with the smoky aroma of the bonfire.
As you rounded a corner, your attention momentarily diverted by a burst of laughter, you collided with someone. Your drink splashed out of your cup, drenching the front of a pristine white shirt. You looked up, your heart sinking as you recognized the face glaring down at you. It was Jay, and he did not look pleased.
"Watch where you're going," He snapped, his voice laced with irritation as he wiped at the damp stain spreading across his shirt.
You scoffed, rolling your eyes, "Maybe you should watch where you're standing," You retorted, matching his tone with an edge of your own. It wasn't the first time you'd clashed with Jay, and it seemed like he always had an attitude with you.
Jay's eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening, "Just be more careful next time," He said curtly before turning away, leaving you standing there with a mix of frustration and confusion.
As you walked away, you couldn't help but wonder why Jay always seemed to have it out for you. He was your crush's best friend, after all, and you couldn't understand why he always seemed so annoyed whenever you were around.
The thought lingered in your mind, adding a layer of complexity to the evening's events. The bonfire continued to burn brightly, but your thoughts were clouded with questions about Jay and his inexplicable attitude towards you. And how the hell Heeseung is friends with him.
You finally spotted Kazuha near the edge of the ocean, chatting with a few friends. Relief washed over you as you approached her, still feeling the sting of your encounter with Jay. Kazuha greeted you with a bright smile, but it quickly faded when she saw the look on your face.
"What's wrong?" She asked, concern evident in her voice.
You sighed, glancing around to make sure no one else was listening, "I'm just going to head home, Kazuha. Heeseung isn't paying any attention to me, and I just had a run-in with Jay. It's been a rough night."
Kazuha frowned, shaking her head, "No way, you're not leaving yet. I have an idea." Her eyes lit up with a mischievous glint, and before you could protest, she grabbed your hand and started pulling you back towards the bonfire.
"Kazuha, what are you doing?" You asked, trying to keep up with her determined pace.
"We're going to play Spin the Bottle," She announced loudly as you both reached the group. The chatter around the fire died down as everyone turned to look at her, "Come on, it'll be fun!"
You sighed, knowing there was no arguing with Kazuha when she got an idea in her head. Reluctantly, you sat down in the circle forming around the bonfire. Your eyes scanned the faces around you, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw Jay sitting next to Heeseung. He had thrown a flannel over his stained shirt, but you could still see the remnants of your drink on the fabric.
Jay's gaze met yours for a brief moment, and you quickly looked away, feeling a mix of embarrassment and annoyance. Heeseung, oblivious to the tension, seemed excited about the game, his smile lighting up the night.
As the bottle was placed in the center and the first spin began, you couldn't help but feel a sense of dread and anticipation. As you glanced at Kazuha, her encouraging smile gave you a bit of comfort.
The game of Spin the Bottle was in full swing, and you watched as the bottle spun and landed on different people around the circle. Laughter and cheers filled the air each time someone was chosen, but so far, the bottle hadn't landed on you. You tried to keep your cool, but the anticipation was starting to get to you. Kazuha, sitting beside you, noticed your growing unease and gave you a reassuring smile.
"Don't worry, your turn will come," She whispered.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the bottle slowed and came to a stop, pointing directly at you. Your heart raced as all eyes turned to you. Before you could react, Kazuha stood up and clapped her hands to get everyone's attention.
"Okay, since I started the game, I get to choose who she kisses!" She declared. A chorus of groans and protests erupted from the group.
"That's not fair!" Someone shouted.
"You can't just make up rules!" Another voice chimed in.
Kazuha held up her hands to calm everyone down, "Come on, it's just one time. Let me have this," She pleaded, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Reluctantly, the group quieted down, and Kazuha turned to you with a knowing smile.
"I choose Heeseung," She said triumphantly. Your heart skipped a beat as you looked over at Heeseung. He met your gaze, and you saw a smirk slowly spread across his face. For a moment, you thought he was going to stand up and come over to you, but then he turned his head and looked at Jay.
"Actually, I think Jay should do it," Heeseung said, his voice filled with amusement.
The entire circle fell silent, and you could feel the shock ripple through the group. Kazuha's mouth fell open, and you were just as stunned. Jay, sitting next to Heeseung, looked equally surprised, his eyes wide as he glanced between you and Heeseung.
"Uh, what?" Jay stammered, clearly caught off guard.
Heeseung's smirk grew wider, "You heard me. Go ahead, Jay."
You felt a mix of emotions swirling inside you—confusion, embarrassment, and a strange sense of curiosity. Jay didn’t stand up and it seemed like forever.
Kazuha immediately tried to interject, "No, Heeseung, I really think—"
But before she could finish, Jay stood up abruptly, "I'll do it," He said firmly, cutting her off. The determination in his voice shocked everyone, especially you. Your heart pounded in your chest as Jay walked towards you, each step making you more nervous.
As Jay got closer, you could feel your palms getting sweaty. The room seemed to close in around you, and your mind raced with a thousand thoughts. Just as he was leaning in, his eyes locked onto yours, you felt a surge of panic. You couldn't do this.
Without thinking, you bolted up from your seat and ran from the scene. You heard Kazuha calling your name, but you ignored her, your feet moving faster than ever. You pushed through other group of people and sprinted to your car, fumbling with your keys in your haste. Finally, you unlocked the door, jumped in, and slammed it shut behind you.
Sitting in the driver's seat, you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. You didn’t know why you felt so nervous to kiss Jay. Maybe it was because of the incident? You weren’t sure as you started your car and drove him.
As you drive home, the city lights blur past your window, casting a warm glow inside your car. The hum of the engine is a comforting background noise, and you find yourself lost in thought about the day's events. The streets are quiet, and you feel a sense of calm as you pull into your driveway.
Once inside, you kick off your shoes and head straight to your room. As you settle down, you notice a missed call from Kazuha. You quickly dial her back, and she picks up almost immediately.
“Hey, are you okay?” Kazuha’s concerned voice comes through the line.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” You reply, though your mind is still racing, “I just didn’t know what to do.”
Kazuha sighs softly, “Jay didn’t seem mad that you left, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
You pause, biting your lip, “Why would Heeseung want Jay to kiss me, though?”
“I don’t know,” Kazuha admits, “Heeseung seemed normal about it, but he left after a while.”
You nod, even though she can’t see you, “Thanks, Kazuha. I’m just going to head to bed now. Talk tomorrow?”
“Of course. Goodnight,” She says.
“Goodnight,” You reply, ending the call. You lie down, thoughts still swirling but feeling a bit more at ease. Tomorrow is a new day. You close your eyes, anticipation and confusion bubbling within you as you drift off to sleep.
The next morning, you wake up with a mix of excitement. After a quick shower, you pick out a cute but comfortable outfit, knowing you'll be out for a while. As you're finishing up, you get a text from Kazuha saying she's on her way to pick you up for a shopping trip.
When Kazuha arrives, you hop into her car, and you both chat about random things on the way to the mall. The mall is bustling with people, and the two of you dive into various stores, trying on clothes and laughing at some of the more outrageous fashion choices.
After a couple of hours, you both decide to take a break and stop at a cozy coffee shop. As you sip on your drink, Kazuha turns to you with a serious look.
“So, are you ever gonna shoot your shot with Heeseung?” She asks, raising an eyebrow.
You sigh, stirring your drink absentmindedly, “I don’t know how to get closer to him.”
Kazuha taps her chin, then suddenly her eyes light up, “I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you fake date someone close to him? That’s like one of the top things people do.”
You blink, processing her suggestion, “Who?”
Kazuha rolls her eyes at your cluelessness, “Jay, duh.”
You choke on your drink in shock, staring at her, “I can’t ask that of Jay after that incident!”
Kazuha just shrugs, “Why not? You talk to Jay the most out of Heeseung’s friends.”
You shake your head, feeling overwhelmed, “Jay hates me.”
Kazuha leans back, a smirk playing on her lips, “He was gonna kiss you either way. Just try.”
You sit there, thinking about it. The idea is crazy, but maybe it’s just crazy enough to work. You glance at Kazuha, who’s watching you expectantly, and nod slowly, “Okay, I’ll try.”
Kazuha grins, and you feel a flutter of anticipation. You weren’t sure if this stupid plan was gonna work, but as Kazuha says, she’s always right.
After spending the day shopping and chatting with Kazuha, you finally head back home, bags in hand and a lot on your mind. Kazuha's words echo in your head: "Just try." You can't help but think about how crazy the idea is, but a part of you is curious about what might happen if you actually went through with it.
As you flop onto your bed, you decide to check your phone. There's a message from Kazuha with a link to Jay's Instagram. Your heart races as you open the app and see his profile. You feel a wave of nervousness wash over you, but you remember Kazuha's encouragement. Taking a deep breath, you decide to go for it. You hit the follow button and then, with trembling fingers, you start typing a message.
l/n.y/n: Jay, are you single?
You type, wincing at how blunt it sounds. But it's too late to back out now. You hit send and toss your phone aside, feeling a mix of dread and anticipation.
A few minutes later, your phone buzzes. You pick it up and see a notification from Instagram. It's a message from Jay. Your heart pounds as you open it, wondering what his response will be.
js_park_: What do you want
You pouted at his bluntness. This was gonna be harder than expected. You decided to just go along and get it over with.
l/n.y/n: I need your help. Like really bad. This may come out weird to you, but I need you to fake date me cause I have a crush on Heeseung and he just doesn’t seem to notice me and since your a good friend of his I was hoping you would go along with it. Once he likes me back you don’t have to talk to me at all or even see my existence! So what do you say?
He read it almost immediately making your heart skip a beat. About a few seconds later he responded back.
js_park_: I’d see you all the time then if you date Heeseung. So no.
You groaned stressed out. He was making this way to hard for you. You knew you couldn’t ask any of his other friends. Jake’s taken, and Sunghoon just straight seems like he doesn’t want no fake dating or a real relationship. You tried to think of another idea. That’s when you suddenly remembered something. You quickly texted back urgently.
l/n.y/n: I’ll get you that guitar you’ve been talking about in class.
js_park_: Cost a lot of money, but if you insist. So when are we starting?
You pumped your fist up in victory. You decided to just start as quick as possible and texted him the details.
l/n.y/n: Tomorrow. Pick me up first thing in the morning and we NEED to show PDA. I don’t like it either but if we need to get Heeseung attention then that’s what we should do. Oh and also, no kissing.
js_park_: Or, we could exchange numbers instead of texting here? It’s weird.
You rolled your eyes.
l/n.y/n: [xxx-xxx-xxxx]. That’s my number.
js_park_: Alright, text you tomorrow.
l/n.y/n: 👍
Seen
You took a deep breath in and out. All you have to do is just show PDA. Nothing too serious. And besides, no kissing will be involved, so you have nothing to worry about. Right?
You wake up to the sound of your phone ringing. Still groggy, you reach over and grab it, expecting to see Kazuha's name on the screen. Instead, you're surprised to see Jay's name flashing. Confused, you answer the call.
"Hello?" you mumble, rubbing your eyes.
"Hey, where do you live?" Jay's voice comes through the speaker, sounding wide awake and slightly amused.
“Jay? What?" you ask, still half-asleep and trying to make sense of the situation, "It's early," You add, glancing at the clock. It's barely past dawn.
"Yeah, I don't know if you knew, but I have morning basketball practice," He replies sarcastically, making you smile despite your confusion.
"Oh, right," You say, suddenly remembering, "Uh, my address is [123 Address Name]."
"Great, I'm on my way," He says before hanging up.
You sit up in bed, trying to shake off the last remnants of sleep. Realizing you don't have much time, you quickly get dressed, throwing on your uniform and running a brush through your hair. Just as you're finishing up, your phone buzzes again.
Jay: I'm here.
You take a deep breath and head outside, finding Jay's car parked in front of your house. You walk over and open the passenger door, sliding in.
"Morning," You say, still a bit dazed but excited.
"Morning," Jay replies with a grin, "Ready to start the day?"
You nod, giving him a tired smile. Jay starts the car, and you both drive towards the school. The early morning streets are quiet, and the sun is just beginning to rise, casting a soft glow over everything. You can't help but feel a little nervous but also excited about this unexpected start to your day.
When you arrive at the school, Jay parks the car, and you both get out. He leads the way to the gym, where you can already hear the faint sounds of basketballs bouncing and sneakers squeaking on the court. As you enter the gym, you see some of Jay's teammates warming up and chatting.
Jay turns to you with a teasing smile, "So, are you gonna give me a hug goodbye?" He asks, clearly enjoying your embarrassment.
You feel your cheeks heat up, but you step forward and give him a quick hug. As you pull away, you hear Jake's voice ring out, "Since when did you guys start dating?"
You glance over and see Jake looking at you both with wide eyes, and Heeseung is there too, watching intently along with the rest of the team. You quickly say goodbye to Jay, avoiding Jake's question.
"Bye, babe," Jay says jokingly, earning a narrow glare from you before you turn to leave.
As you walk away, you hear Jake ask Jay again, "Seriously, dude, what's going on?"
Jay just pats Jake's shoulder with a knowing grin, "Don't worry about it," He says, leaving Jake and the others looking dumbfounded as he jogs over to join the rest of the team for practice.
You walked to the school doors, your heart racing with embarrassment. The plan to make Heeseung notice you has officially begun, and you can't help but feel a sense of anticipation for what will happen next.
Later that day, you finally have a class with Jay. As you both settle into your seats, you decide to fill him in on the rest of your plan.
"So, here's the deal," You begin, pulling out your schedule, "These are my classes, and I need you to walk me to each of them."
Jay groans, leaning back in his chair, "Do I really have to do all of that?"
"Yes," You insist, "I pass by Heeseung a lot between classes, and he'll definitely notice if we're always together."
Jay rolls his eyes but eventually relents, "Whatever," he mutters, clearly not thrilled but willing to go along with it.
As the class begins, you find it hard to focus. Your mind keeps drifting to the plan and how it might play out. Will Heeseung really notice? And if he does, will he care? You glance over at Jay, who seems more interested in doodling in his notebook than paying attention to the lecture.
Despite his nonchalant attitude, you can't help but feel grateful that he's willing to help you out, even if it means going through the motions of fake dating.
The rest of the class passes in a blur as you continue to mull over your thoughts. By the time the bell rings, signaling the end of the period, you've resolved to stick to the plan and see it through. You gather your things and look over at Jay, who gives you a small nod.
"Ready for the next class?" He asks, standing up and slinging his backpack over his shoulder.
"Yeah," You reply, feeling a renewed sense of determination. As you both walk out of the classroom holding hands, you noticed a lot of students whispering and looking at you guys. This was gonna be a lot tougher than you thought.
Jay walks you to your next class, and just as you're about to enter, you spot Heeseung walking past. Your heart leaps when he gives Jay a friendly smile. Then, Heeseung looks at you, and for a moment, everything seems to slow down. He nods, and you manage to return a nervous smile, feeling a mixture of excitement and anxiety.
Jay leaves with a casual wave, but not without giving a knowing smirk. You rolled your eyes and headed into the classroom, still replaying the brief interaction with Heeseung in your mind. You try to focus on your work, but your thoughts keep drifting back to that smile and nod. It feels like a small victory, a sign that your plan might actually be working.
When the bell rings, you gather your things and head to the cafeteria for lunch. You spot Kazuha sitting at your usual table and quickly make your way over to her.
"Hey, Kazuha," You say, sliding into the seat across from her. "You won't believe what just happened."
She looks up from her phone, curiosity piqued, "What happened?"
You recount the events of the morning, from Jay walking you to class to the moment with Heeseung. Kazuha listens intently, her eyes widening in surprise.
"I'm shocked Jay actually followed through," She says, shaking her head in disbelief.
You laugh, “Yeah, well, he's doing it for a guitar. But I'm definitely going to get on his nerves with this."
Kazuha chuckles, "Just make sure you don't drive him too crazy, We still need him for the plan."
You nod, feeling a bit more confident, "Don't worry, I won't. But I have to admit, it's kind of fun seeing him so annoyed."
As you both continue to chat and eat lunch, you feel a sense of anticipation building. The plan is in motion, and with a little luck, Heeseung will notice you more and more. For now, though, you're just glad to have Kazuha by your side, sharing in the excitement and uncertainty of it all.
After school, you meet up with Jay, so he can drive you home. As you settle into the passenger seat, Jay starts talking about a party Jake is hosting that night.
"Hey, there's a party at Jake's tonight. Do you want to come?" Jay asks casually, glancing over at you.
Before you can answer, he adds, "Heeseung is gonna be there."
Your heart skips a beat, and you quickly say, "Yes, I'll come."
Jay nods, a small smile playing on his lips, "Great. I'll pick you up at eight."
He drops you off at your house, and you head inside, already thinking about what to wear. Knowing you take a while to get dressed, you decide to start getting ready right away. As you rummage through your closet, you text Jay to ask if Kazuha can come too. A few minutes later, your phone buzzes with his reply.
Jay: Sure, she can come.
You feel a bit more at ease knowing your friend will be there. You call her up and tell her and she says she’ll be there.
After what feels like an eternity of trying on different outfits and experimenting with your makeup, you finally settle on a look that makes you feel confident. Just as you finish, you hear a car horn outside.
You grab your things and head out to find Jay waiting for you. He looks up as you approach, and you notice a flicker of surprise in his eyes.
"Do I look okay?" You ask, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious.
Jay gives you a once-over and nods, "You look fine," He says, though there's a hint of something more in his tone.
You smile, feeling a bit reassured, and hop into the car. As Jay drives to the party, you can't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. Tonight could be a turning point in your plan, you could only hope.
You and Jay finally make it to the party, and it's packed with people. The music is loud, and the atmosphere is electric. As you step inside, you see Jake making his way over to you. He dabs up Jay and then turns to you with a big smile.
"Glad you guys made it!" Jake shouts over the music.
You smile back, feeling a bit more relaxed. Jay suggests getting some drinks, and you follow him to the kitchen. As you chat and sip on your drinks, you suddenly spot Kazuha across the room. You wave her over and give her a big hug when she reaches you.
"Where's Heeseung?" Kazuha asks, glancing around.
You shrug, genuinely not knowing. Jay chimes in, "He might be in the living room."
"I'll go see," You say, eager to find him.
You make your way through the crowded house, but there's no sign of Heeseung in the living room. Just as you're about to turn back, you bump into someone. You look up and see Heeseung standing right in front of you.
"Oh, hey," He says, looking a bit surprised, "Where's Jay?"
"He's in the kitchen," You reply quickly. Then, thinking on your feet, you add, "I was just trying to get some fresh air.”
Heeseung nods and says, "Follow me."
Though you're unsure, you decide to follow him. You glance back, knowing Jay and Kazuha are waiting for you, but curiosity gets the better of you. Heeseung leads you through the house, and you can't help but wonder what he wants to talk about.
Heeseung leads you through the house, weaving past groups of people until you reach a quiet balcony. He gestures for you to go out first, and you step into the cool night air. Heeseung follows and sits down on one of the chairs, and you take a seat next to him.
He takes a sip of his drink and then looks at you, "So, what made you wanna date Jay?" He asks, his eyes searching yours.
You feel a pang of nervousness but manage to lie smoothly, "Oh, you know, he was always a handsome guy. And because we had a connection with the class we both chose, and it just felt right."
Heeseung hums thoughtfully and takes another sip of his drink, “Have you and him already had sex?" He asks casually.
You choke on your drink, coughing a bit before managing to say, "No, no, we haven’t."
He chuckles softly, "I knew it."
Confused, you look at him and ask, "Why do you say that?"
Heeseung leans back in his chair, a small smile playing on his lips, “Because," He begins, "I can tell when Jay has sex with someone, he gets more clingy to them if you know what I mean. And to you, he stays quite far, and yet almost close. Unless, you’re a virgin and taking it slow?"
Your heart races as you try to process his words. The plan you and Jay concocted to make Heeseung notice you seems to be unraveling right before your eyes. The night air feels colder, and the anticipation of what Heeseung said hangs heavily between you.
But not only were you thinking that, you were also thinking about Heeseung referring you as a virgin. Which, he is not wrong. You are a virgin, and you aren’t really proud to say that in front of him for some reason. You couldn’t help but question wether Heeseung liked virgins. So, you decided to fuck it and ask.
“Do you like virgins?” You questioned, your voice tinged with curiosity. Heeseung averts his gaze to you. His narrow eyes making you nervous, but he just scoffed.
“They’re alright. I guess it could be exciting in bed, teaching them what to do. But I prefer an experienced person. Because they know what they're doing in bed, and that’s a turn on.” He replied. You felt your mouth parting. Heeseung liked experienced people. And you were nowhere near experienced. You haven’t even had your first kiss.
You slowly nodded your head, “That's interesting.” You muttered and sipped your drink.
Heeseung let out a low chuckle, “So are you a virgin?”
You gulped harshly and stared down. You felt the air getting hotter and that’s when you decided to just lie, “No. I already had sex with someone.”
Heeseung whistled and leaned in closer to you, “L/n Y/n already had sex? Wonder who if it’s not Jay.” He joked. You let out a nervous laugh.
Before you could say something else, the glass door slid open revealing Jay. He catches you and Heeseung on the balcony, his eyes narrowing slightly, "I've been looking for you," He says, his gaze shifting between you and Heeseung, “Am I interrupting something?"
Heeseung smirks at you before standing up, "No, not at all," He replies smoothly, "I'll leave you two alone." With that, he walks back inside, leaving you and Jay alone on the balcony.
You remain quiet, the weight of the conversation with Heeseung still fresh in your mind. Jay looks at you with concern, “Are you okay?" He asks gently.
You force a small smile and nod, "Yeah, I'm just tired. I think I want to go home."
Jay nods understandingly, “Okay, let's go."
You both make your way back through the house, saying goodbye to your friends. You stop by Kazuha and tell her, "I'll text you when I get home."
She nods and waves, "Drive safe!"
As you and Jay get into the car, the silence feels heavy. Jay starts driving, and you suddenly blurt out, "Jay, about Heeseung..."
He glances at you briefly before focusing back on the road, "What about him?"
You hesitate, unsure of how to express the confusion and emotions swirling inside you. The plan to make Heeseung notice you has taken an unexpected turn, and you're not sure if you can ask Jay a personal question. You finally took a deep breath and faced Jay.
“Can you take my virginity?”
Jay slams the brakes, causing the car to jolt to a sudden stop. He stares at you in shock, his eyes wide, “What?" He says loudly, making you flinch.
You take another deep breath and repeat, "Can you take my virginity?”
Jay takes a moment to process your words, then tells you, "Wait a second." He pulls over to the side of the road and turns to face you fully, "What's wrong? What did you and Heeseung talk about?"
You bite your lip and explain everything to him—the plan to make Heeseung notice you, the unexpected feelings that surfaced, and the confusion you're feeling now. Jay just stares at you, taking it all in. He sighs deeply and says, "You should wait for the right person."
You shake your head, feeling a surge of determination, "I want it to be with you, Jay."
Jay thinks for a long minute, his expression serious. Finally, he asks, "Are you sure?"
You nod confidently, "Yes."
"When?" He asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Today," You reply firmly, "Come inside my house."
Jay takes a deep breath and starts the car again. The drive to your house is filled with a charged silence, both of you processing the gravity of what was just said.
As you pull into your driveway, you feel a mix of nervousness. Jay parks the car and turns to you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. Finding none, you both step out of the car, heading to your door.
Jay follows you inside your house, and you both take off your shoes and jackets, placing them neatly by the door. Jay glances around and asks, "Before we do anything, is your mom home?"
You shake your head, "No, she's on a business trip."
Jay nods, seeming to relax a bit. "Are you thirsty?" You ask, trying to break the tension.
He shakes his head, "No, I'm good."
You lead him up to your room, and he takes a moment to examine it, looking at the posters on the walls and the books on your shelves. You sit on your bed, feeling the weight of the moment.
Jay turns to you and asks, "Have you changed your mind at all?"
You look him straight in the eyes and say firmly, "No."
Jay nods, taking a deep breath. The room is filled with a charged silence, the air thick with anticipation. He moves closer, sitting beside you on the bed, his expression serious and thoughtful.
“You said no kissing, right?” He asks. You slowly nodded your head, but his lips did look kissable right now.
“Then this is gonna be somewhat awkward then.” He admits. You giggle and wrap your arms around his neck.
“J-Just start somewhere, please.” You whisper. Jay cursed and wrapped his hands firmly on your waist. You closed your eyes, waiting for him to do something.
You gasped when you suddenly felt his soft lips on your neck. It started off slow, his lips moving along your neck, giving it pecks here and there. You leaned your head more back to grant him access.
You felt his lips form a grin before he opened his mouth and gave you a gentle bite on your neck, giving it a soft suck. You let out breathy sighs feeling him getting a bit harsher and pushed you back. His lips never leave your neck.
He sucked all around your neck and jaw. You wrapped your legs around his waist and bucked. He let out a growl and pushed your hips back making you whine. He faced you and lowered his eyes to your lips that were parted. God, did he want to make them plump and red.
Instead of doing it, he went to your chest and kissed it. He slowly traced your back before unzipping the back of your dress. You felt nervous and urgent, lifting yourself up a bit to let your dress come off. You took the straps off revealing your bra and underwear.
You shyly bit your finger as Jay stared. You couldn’t help but feel his eyes wandering around your whole body like hands. He suddenly lifted a hand to fondle with your breast making you let out a gasp and eyes closed shut. His other hand rubbing your cloth core.
You moaned and squirmed against his hold, trying to get away, but he held you down.
“Just relax pretty.” He whispered in your ear. You nodded your head although your breathing was saying otherwise. Jay felt your wet pussy clenching around nothing making him chuckle. You really were urgent.
He unclasped your bra revealing your perky breasts. He leaned down and flicked his tongue against one of your breasts causing you to grip his soft jet black hair, “ah- jay!” You cried out.
The flicking soon turned into sucking harshly. You snaked, not knowing what to do yourself. He gave attention to the other one by fondling it.
Your breathing was ragged and breathless. Your eyes were teary, and he didn’t even put his dick in yet. You guessed you now knew what Heeseung meant by experienced people who are better in bed.
Jay lets go of your breast and leans over your cloth pussy. He planted soft kisses and put your legs over his shoulders, pulling you softly against his body. He moved your panties to the side revealing your slick pussy. You tried to close your legs in embarrassment, but he forced them back open.
“Don’t be shy now. You wanted this, remember?” He teased. You let out a quiet whine. It all went too fast when you suddenly felt a hot wet sensation licking your pussy slow. Your eyes rolled back, feeling Jay's tongue going deep in your pussy and sucking on your bud. Your moans could no longer be held back, letting them out freely for the neighbors to hear.
“J-Jay ah- wait!” You cried out feeling your orgasm coming faster than you anticipated. Jay didn’t stop, feeling your pussy tighten and open and before he knew it too, his tongue was getting covered by your juices. You shook lightly and jerked when he flicked his tongue on your bud teasingly.
He latched his mouth off your pussy and licked his lips while staring at you breathing deeply. Jay loved the view, your hair messy, eyes teary, mouth agape with saliva trailing down, mascara streaks on your cheeks. He wanted to ruin you more.
As he took off his shirt, you noticed his body was pretty toned. You’d have to ask him later if he workout often. He took off his pants with his boxers finally revealing his dick. You gasp at his size. Is that even gonna fit? You gulped nervously.
Jay noticed your face and smiled, “It’s okay, I’ll go slow. For now.” He said. You nodded and slowly put your hand on your pussy, opening your folds to let Jay see your hole.
Jay's eyes widened at your sudden confidence for a second before his eyes turned dark, “Someone getting confident? I should lower that.” He mumbled. Before you could ask what he meant, he leaned over you and positioned his dick at your hole and slowly pushed in.
You felt the air get knocked out your lungs and immediately wrapped your arms around his neck. You squeezed around him tightly making him hiss, “Shit, relax will you?” He complained.
“I-It’s not my fault you suddenly did that!” You snapped, still feeling pain. Slowly, you tried to relax your breathing and soon enough, he was fully in.
You let out a ragged breath feeling him in you. He felt so big and you felt so full. Jay watched your face, making sure he wasn’t hurting you in any way. He knows he’s big.
“M-Move.” You panted. Jay nodded even though you probably didn’t see him and slowly he moved. He kept a slow steady pace, watching your every move and facials. He saw your eyebrows furrow and you lolled your head back.
That’s when Jay started going at a faster pace and soon you both were moaning and panting against each other. Both of your bodies are sweaty and sticking together. The sound of skin slapping, the bed creaking, and your unison moans were heard all over your room.
Jay gripped your waist and lifted his upper body up, leaving you to clench your sheets as he thrusted up into you. You felt your eyes roll back feeling his mushroom tip hit against just the right spots.
Jay groaned, feeling you squeezing around him. He felt his orgasm coming quicker than usual. Probably considering he hasn’t had sex in a while or your pussy just felt too good. He thinks it’s the second one.
You felt your orgasm coming and whimpered, “I-I think I’m c-cumming- hah!” You moaned and shut your eyes. Jay let out a breathy laugh and slowed down his thrusting, going harder and deeper. And that’s when your orgasm came.
You let out a silent moan feeling him still thrusting into you hard. You squirmed harshly and overstimulated before he took out his dick and stroked it on your stomach, his cum spurting out on you.
You both panted at the intense orgasm before Jay got off your bed and went to your bathroom. He came back with a washcloth and slowly cleaned you up. Your breathing calmed feeling him lay beside you and rubbing your back softly.
“I can’t believe we had sex.” You said. Jay snorted and leaned on his hand.
“You’re just now thinking that? I can’t believe you wanted me to be your first.” He admitted. You stared at him before giggling. You both soon started laughing together.
You suddenly felt your eyes get droopy and yawned. Jay noticed and smiled, “You can sleep.”
You pouted, “Are you leaving?”
He shook his head, “I can stay a while longer if you want me too.” You nodded and cuddled against his warm body. He held your waist, seeing your eyes finally closing and hearing soft snores leave your mouth.
He slowly leaned in, but stopped. He has to stick with the plan. He furrowed his eyebrows and slowly got off your bed, putting your blanket over your naked body. He got dressed and gave you one last look before softly shutting your door.
The next morning, you wake up with a start, realizing you're late for school. You quickly grab your phone and call Jay. His groggy voice answers, confirming he also overslept.
"Hey, you awake?" You ask, still feeling the remnants of sleep.
“Yeah, just woke up," Jay replies, his voice thick with sleep. You giggled hearing his tired voice. You heard a slight hum from him.
“We’re late Jay.” You said, not sure if he knows. It takes a few seconds before he finally understand and curses, saying he’ll pick you up soon.
You quickly get dressed in your uniform, noticing a slight soreness from the previous day. You get a text from Jay and you rush outside to find Jay already waiting in his car. You hop in, and he gives you a sympathetic look.
"Rough morning, huh?" He says with a small smile.
"Yeah, you could say that," You reply, buckling your seatbelt.
The drive to school is quick, both of you silently cursing your luck for waking up late. Jay pulls into the school parking lot and parks the car, "I'll see you later," He says, giving you a reassuring nod as you head to your class.
You walk into your classroom, feeling the eyes of your classmates on you. Your teacher looks up from her desk and says, "You're late."
You feel a wave of embarrassment wash over you as you mumble an apology and quickly take your seat. You start to work, trying to focus on the lesson and ignore the feeling of everyone's eyes on you.
Class went by fast as you quickly pack your stuff and heading out the hallway only to bump into someone, “Agh! Sorry! I wasn’t looking-“ Your eyes widened seeing Heeseung.
He gave you a knowing grin, “Someone looks like they didn’t get good sleep last night.”
You blushed and shook your head, “I just stayed up late studying! T-That’s all!” You ranted. Heeseung chuckled and leaned near your space, feeling his hot breath on you.
“It’s okay to be honest. I know what you did.” He said before leaning back, walking past you. You stared into nowhere where he was just at, your eyes wide. Does he really know? Did Jay tell him?
As you looked around you finally caught a glimpse of Jay walking towards you, “Hey, sorry for the wait. Jake was nagging-“
“Did you tell Heeseung what we did?” You ask, feeling nervous. Jay eyebrows furrowed.
“Uh, no? Why?” He replied. You shook your head, ignoring his question. You say never mind as you both head to your next class. You were now hoping Heeseung was just joking.
Class went by smoothly with Jay by your side. Both of you partners for an upcoming project. When it's finally lunch, you meet Kazuha in the cafeteria. She takes one look at you and asks, "Are you okay? You look like you're constipated."
You glare at her, feeling a mix of irritation and embarrassment, “Gee, thanks for the concern," You reply sarcastically. You then let out a sigh, “Don’t freak out, but I had sex with Jay last night.”
Kazuha raises an eyebrow for a few seconds before yelling, “You had sex with who?” She shouts.
It catches you completely off guard. You can't help but let out a yell, drawing the attention of nearby students hearing you guys yell, “Shhh! Be quiet!" You hiss, trying to calm the situation.
"Why?" Kazuha asks, genuinely curious.
You lean in closer and whisper, "It's because of Heeseung."
Kazuha's eyes widen in surprise. "Wait, was it good?" She asks, a smirk forming on her lips.
You nod, a small smile playing on your face, “Yeah, it was really good."
Kazuha chuckles, shaking her head. "As expected of Jay," She says, and you both burst into laughter.
As lunch comes to an end, Kazuha turns to you and asks, "Hey, do you want to hang out at my house after school?"
You smile and nod. "Yeah, that sounds great."
After school, you find Jay near the parking lot and tell him, "Hey, I'm gonna ride with Kazuha today."
Jay nods, looking relieved. "Good, I have basketball practice and didn't want you waiting around for me."
You smile and wave, "Bye, Jay. See you later!"
You head over to Kazuha, who is waiting by her car, "Ready to go?" She asks with a grin.
"Yeah, let's go," You reply, hopping into her car.
As you drive to Kazuha's house, she mentions, "There's gonna be a basketball game soon. Are you gonna go?"
You hesitate for a moment before saying, "Maybe." In truth, you know you're definitely going because Heeseung is playing. But as your mind wanders, you also think about Jay and quickly shake off the thought.
Once you arrive at Kazuha's house, you both decide to make cookies. The kitchen fills with the sweet aroma of baking as you mix ingredients and laugh about the day's events. After the cookies are in the oven, you settle down in the living room to watch some romance movies.
You both get completely absorbed in the films, crying at the sad parts and cheering at the happy endings. The evening flies by in a mix of emotions and laughter.
By the time the cookies are ready, you both enjoy the warm, gooey treats while discussing the characters and plot twists. It's a perfect way to unwind and forget about the day's drama, even if just for a little while.
As you and Kazuha were gossiping, Kazuha asks you a question that catches you off guard, “So, you and Jay huh? You like him?” She asks. You stare at her confused.
“What are you talking about? I don’t like him.” You say, although for some reason you felt your heart race. Kazuha grins and playfully pushes you.
“Then why out of all people would you want him to take your virginity?” She adds. You thought for a moment.
“Because, I don’t know. I just felt comfortable with him.” You admitted. Kazuha stares at you for a moment before nodding.
“You like Heeseung, not Jay.” She said. And for some reason, that statement felt weird to you.
Before you could speak, you suddenly felt your phone vibrate and curiously looked at the caller ID. It was Jay. You answered while laughing at what Kazuha said about his photo you saved of him.
“Hey, what’s up?” You ask while taking a bite out of your cookie.
“I got done with practice. Was just wondering if you need a ride back home.” He admitted. You let out a hum and looked over at Kazuha before answering.
“Yeah that’s fine.” You beamed.
“Alright, send me the address and I’ll be on my way.” He spoke. You said okay and hung up.
Jay arrives at Kazuha's house and you give Kazuha a big hug and say, "Thanks for today, it was so much fun! See you later!"
"Anytime! Bye!" Kazuha waves as you head to Jay's car.
You slide into the passenger seat and start chatting about your day, "Kazuha and I made cookies and watched some romance movies. We cried so much at the endings!"
Jay listens attentively, a small smile playing on his lips. Suddenly, he reaches over and swipes something off your lips with his thumb, “You had a bit of chocolate there," He says, licking his fingers, "Next time, make some for me too."
You blush, feeling your cheeks heat up, “Okay, I will," You mumble, a shy smile forming on your face.
The rest of the ride is filled with comfortable silence, and soon enough, you arrive at your house. You turn to Jay and say, "Thanks for the ride. See you tomorrow!"
“Anytime," Jay replies with a wink, "Goodnight."
You giggled and stepped out of the car, heading inside, your heart fluttering from the unexpected moment. You gripped your shirt. What is wrong with you?
Once you came inside, you decided to take a shower to relax. After finishing your shower, you wrap yourself in a cozy towel and head to your room. Just as you're about to get dressed, your phone rings. It's Jay calling. You quickly answer, "Hey, Jay. What's up?"
"Hey, are you going to the basketball game tomorrow?" He asks, sounding eager.
“Yeah, I am," You reply, smiling to yourself.
"Great! Maybe we can hang out after?" He suggests. You giggle how happy he sounded.
"Sure, sounds fun," You say, feeling a flutter in your stomach at his idea. As the conversation continues, you both start chatting about random things, laughing as he talks about Jake and Sunghoon play fighting at practice.
Suddenly, a memory of what happened in your room with Jay flashes in your mind, and you can't help but blush. Your words start to stumble, and you stutter, "Um, uh, yeah... funny, um..."
Jay's tone shifts to concern, “Hey, what's wrong?"
"N-nothing," You quickly reply, trying to shake off the embarrassment.
There's a brief silence on the other end before Jay says, "Is this about your bedroom?"
His words shock you, how the hell did he know? You then responded a little too fast, "No!"
Jay chuckles softly, "You sure? You sound pretty flustered."
You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, "I'm fine, really.”
Silence was left on the other side, you nervously gulped, “Jay?”
No answer. You felt nervousness creep on you. Shit, what if he found it weird that you were thinking dirty? As you were about to say something, Jay cut you to it.
“Do you finger yourself?” He suddenly asked. You felt your breathing stop.
“W-What?” You ask. Jay let out a low breath. You could tell he was holding himself back. You weren’t sure from what though.
“I said, do you finger yourself? When you’re alone at home.” He asks again, but adding on. You felt your cheeks heat up and twirled your hair nervously. You wouldn’t say you do, but you thought of it more than once.
“N-Not really? I-I mean I think about it, but I don’t do it.” You admit. You heard a chuckle in the other line.
“Why not do it now that I’m on call with you?” He suddenly said, you blinked. He wants you to finger yourself, while he’s on call with you?
“How does that work?” You mumbled. Jay hummed and you heard rustling on the other line, as if he was getting comfy.
“Simple. You just finger yourself while I’m on call with you. Either you just do it alone, or I can guide you through while saying stuff to you. I might jerk off though.” He states. You thought for a moment, how is that simple? You’re gonna finger yourself on call with him? And he’s gonna jerk off? It’s already hard enough to talk through calls.
Jay noticed your quietness, “You don’t have too. It was just something to occupy ourselves-“
“Okay. I’ll do it.” You shyly said. Jay made a noise, as if he was surprised you actually said okay before he chuckled.
Jay's voice comes through the phone, "Are you on your bed right now?"
You glance around and realize you're still standing by your dresser, “Uh, no, not yet," You admit, feeling a bit flustered.
"Go to it," He instructs, his voice gentle but firm.
You walk over to your bed and sit down, the soft mattress sinking slightly under your weight, “Okay, I'm on my bed now."
"Good," Jay says, a hint of satisfaction in his tone, "Now, I want you to lie down and relax."
You feel a wave of nervousness wash over you but comply, lying down and staring at the ceiling, "Alright, I'm lying down."
"Perfect," He continues, “Now, I want you to close your eyes and just listen to my voice. Let me do all the talking, okay?"
You nod, even though he can't see you, "Okay," You say softly, feeling a mix of curiosity and anticipation.
“I want you to take deep breaths, remember how I felt against you that night.” He spoke softly. You let out a anxious sigh and remembered that night. How his tongue felt against you. His hands move so smoothly against your skin. His lips were plump and soft when he was kissing and sucking your neck.
Slowly, you lower your hand to your pussy and softly rub your bud. You let out a gasp and let out a quiet moan. You heard a sigh coming from Jay and heard ruffling against the line.
“W-What are you doing?” You breathed out, still rubbing your bud.
“Mind if I jerk off?” He casually said. You bit your lip and nodded before you replied yes. You cursed at yourself for being distracted. You heard the pants of Jays unzip fast and heard a soft hiss.
“What do I do now?” You muttered.
“Now imagine me between your legs, use your fingers and rub your folds. Then add a finger in. You can do that, yeah?” He breathed out. You let out a high moan listening to what he’s saying.
You rubbed your folds at a natural pace, feeling your juices squelching. You're sure Jay can hear because you heard a low groan from him and hearing skin slapping of his balls and his hand.
You imagined him laying on his bed, one phone in his hand while the other is wrapped around his hard dick. His body starts to sweat as his breathing gets uneven.
You shoved a finger in your hole and arched your back, letting out a pained moan. You forgot how tight you were. You slowly relaxed your breathing, remembering Jay’s voice when he told you too. Soon you started feeling pleasure and started fingering faster.
You forgot Jay was on the other line until you heard him letting out moans himself and hearing squelchy noises. You bit your lip and panted feeling an orgasm coming.
“J-Jay, want you in me.” You whispered. You added a second finger and cried out.
“F-Fuck! Yeah, want me in you? Want my dick to ruin your tight pussy?” He snapped. You nodded your head frantically even though he couldn't see you and came right on your fingers. You then heard Jay cursing one last time before hearing him breathe in and out unevenly.
After a few seconds you let out a giggle, "You were really good at this," you murmur, feeling a bit shy.
"Really? It’s my first time having phone sex," Jay replies, his voice filled with warmth and lust. Your eyes widened a little. You were his first phone sex? You felt a bit of pride knowing you were his first before chuckling.
“For some reason that makes me happy to hear.” You admit. You heard Jay chuckling and heard a yawn.
“If you’re tired, go to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You mumbled. Jay hummed before saying bye and hanging up after you said bye. You laid in bed staring at the ceiling. You can’t believe you had phone sex with him.
The next morning, you were already dressed for school. You twirled a little to make sure you look good. With a small smile, you grab your backpack and head out the door, making your way to Jay's car.
Jay is leaning against his car, waiting for you with a playful grin on his face, "Morning, sleepyhead. How'd you sleep after our little chat last night?" He teases.
You feel your cheeks heat up as you remember the night before, “Shut up, Jay," You mutter, trying to hide your embarrassment.
He just laughs, clearly enjoying your reaction, "Come on, let's get to school."
The drive is filled with light banter, and soon enough, you pull into the school parking lot. As you step out of the car, you suddenly spot Heeseung standing near the entrance, looking around as if he's waiting for someone.
You exchange a confused glance with Jay, who just shrugs, "What's Heeseung doing here?" You wonder aloud.
Before Jay can respond, Heeseung spots you guys and walks over to you guys, "Hey, I just got here and thought I'd walk to first period with you," He says, looking directly at you.
You feel your heart skip a beat and your face flushes, "O-Okay," You stammer, before Jay has a chance to say anything.
Jay raises an eyebrow but doesn't comment, simply giving you a knowing look. The three of you start walking together, and you can't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness.
As you walk, you catch Jay's amused expression out of the corner of your eye, but he remains silent, letting you enjoy the moment with Heeseung. What you don’t know though, is the swirling jealousy he feels too.
The school day flew by in a blur. Classes with Jay were the usual mix of teasing and casual conversation, nothing out of the ordinary. Lunchtime with Kazuha was also routine, filled with chatter about assignments and weekend plans. Before you knew it, the end of the school day approached, and you and Kazuha started getting ready for the basketball game.
As you enter the gym, the familiar sounds of sneakers squeaking on the floor and basketballs bouncing fill the air. You spot Jay practicing with his team, his focus intense. When he notices you, he breaks into a wide smile, and you can't help but smile back.
But then, out of the corner of your eye, you see Heeseung staring at you. His gaze is intense, almost as if he's trying to figure something out. The moment your eyes meet, he quickly looks away, leaving you feeling puzzled and a little flustered.
"Hey, the game's about to start," Kazuha's voice snaps you out of your thoughts. You turn to her, nodding as you push the confusing encounter with Heeseung to the back of your mind. Together, you find your seats and settle in, ready to cheer for the team.
The game was in full swing, and it was hard to tell which team would come out on top. You and Kazuha were on the edge of your seats, cheering enthusiastically along with the other spectators. Every basket, every pass, and every block were followed by shouts and applause from the crowd.
The score was tied, and the tension in the air was palpable. Jay was on the court, focused and determined. Every time he got the ball, the gym filled with excitement. The crowd roared, and you and Kazuha were no exception, shouting his name and clapping vigorously.
Finally, in the last few seconds of the game, Jay received the ball and, with an impressive maneuver, scored the final point. The sound of the whistle marked the end of the game, and the gym erupted in cheers. Your team had won.
You jumped out of your seat along with everyone else, clapping and shouting with joy. Jay, drenched in sweat but with a triumphant smile, looked over to where you were. He raised a finger, signaling number one, and you smiled back at him, feeling incredibly proud.
After the game, the gym began to empty out. Some people left, while others stayed behind to talk to the teammates. You noticed Jake and his girlfriend chatting near the bleachers. As you were watching them, someone suddenly jumped from behind you, making you jump in surprise. You thought it was Jay, but when you turned around, you saw it was Heeseung.
"How did I do?" Heeseung asked with a playful smile.
Out of kindness and sincerely, you responded, "You did amazing." Your heart leaped when he smiled at you, his eyes lighting up with genuine appreciation.
"Jay's in the locker room changing," Heeseung informed you.
“Okay," you replied, feeling a mix of emotions.
Heeseung seemed like he was about to ask you something, but before he could, Jay appeared, interrupting the moment.
“Hey, ready to go?” He asked. Heeseung closed his mouth and offered a grin to Jay. You nodded your head, but also confused about what Heeseung was gonna say.
“What were you gonna say Heeseung?” You said. Heeseung stared at you but then shook his head.
“Nothing. Have fun you two.” He teased before turning away and leaving to his other teammates.
You look over at Jay and shrugged. You both walked out while saying bye to the team. As you guys walked to his car, you couldn’t help but feel happy that they won.
“You guys did amazing! I mean especially with you! You did amazing out there Jay.” You smiled. Jay stared at you for a second before facing you. Your smile faltered a bit. Is he okay? You watched as he slowly started leaning in. You didn’t know what to do, but slowly, you closed your eyes.
And yet, nothing came. You opened your eyes to see that Jay was backed up and just stared at the ground, “I’ll drop you off home.” He spoke before going towards his car. You watched frozen. Were you actually gonna let him kiss you?
The car ride was filled with an awkward silence, both of you thinking about the incident where he almost kissed you. The tension was palpable, and neither of you knew how to break it.
When you finally reached your house, you turned to him and said, "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Yeah," He replied, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.
"Congrats on the win, one more time," You added before getting out of the car.
"Thanks," Jay said, giving you a small smile.
You shut the door behind you and let out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding in. You made your way to your room, your mind racing. As you lay on your bed, you couldn't help but think about your feelings for Jay.
Maybe it was because you guys had spent so much time together recently, or maybe it was sex. Whatever it was, it had you feeling confused and unsure about what to do next. It didn’t matter though. You liked Heeseung and only Heeseung. Jay is just there to help.
It was getting dark when you were woken up by the sound of your phone ringing. Groggily, you reached over and answered it.
"Hello?" You mumbled, still half-asleep.
"Hey, were you sleeping?" Jay's familiar voice came through the line.
"Yeah, I was," You replied, sitting up and rubbing your eyes.
"Well, I was wondering if you wanted to go to a party tonight. Since we won and all," Jay said, sounding a bit excited. "This time, Heeseung is hosting it."
You thought about it for a moment, considering the invitation. The idea of seeing Heeseung again made your heart race a little, but you also felt a bit nervous about the whole thing. After a brief hesitation, you decided to go for it.
"Sure, why not," You said, trying to sound more awake and enthusiastic.
"Okay, I'll pick you up soon," Jay responded, and you could hear the smile in his voice.
You hung up the phone and quickly got out of bed, heading to your closet to find something to wear. As you got dressed, you couldn't help but think about your feelings with everything. Maybe the party won’t hurt.
As you finished getting dressed you got a text from Jay saying he was here. You grabbed your jacket and headed to his car. The drive was filled with chatting about random things.
Once you and Jay arrived at the party, the atmosphere was buzzing with energy. As you walked inside, you saw people dancing to the music. You turned to Jay and asked, "Do you want to dance for fun?"
"Sure," Jay replied with a smile.
Both of you joined the crowd and started moving to the beat of the music. You felt carefree and happy, enjoying the moment with Jay. Jay grabbed your waist and moved with you. You felt your heart beating faster and stared at him before smiling.
After a while, Jay leaned in and said, "I'm going to get some drinks. Do you want anything?"
"Okay, thanks," You responded, and Jay walked away toward the drinks table.
You continued dancing, letting the music take over. Suddenly, you felt someone behind you. Turning around, you saw Heeseung, which made you jump a little.
"You scared me!" You exclaimed, placing a hand on your chest.
"Sorry," Heeseung said with a grin, "Do you want to go somewhere so we can talk?"
You glanced around, looking for Jay, and told Heeseung, "I'm waiting for Jay."
"Oh, you're with Jay? I thought you guys broke up or something cause he’s with another girl," Heeseung said, pointing towards the drinks table.
Your eyebrows furrowed before you look over. There, Jay was standing with a cup in his hand, but another girl was talking to him. She laughed and touched up his arm and he let her. He seemed to be laughing too. For some reason, you felt a pang of hurt in your chest upon hearing that. Still, you nodded and said, "Okay, let's go."
Heeseung led you to a room upstairs. As you walked in, you looked around, examining the space. It was a cozy and well-decorated room.
"This is my room," Heeseung said, watching you, "I never let people in here. You're the first."
You felt surprised and a bit special hearing that, wondering what Heeseung wanted to tell you in private. So, you sat next to him.
You took a deep breath and turned to Heeseung, feeling a mix of curiosity and nervousness. "So, what did you want to talk about?" You asked, trying to keep your voice steady.
Heeseung looked at you intently, his expression serious, "I wanted to ask you something," He began, "Are you and Jay really dating? Because it looks real, but not real enough to me."
You felt your heart race at his question. You were at a loss for words, trying to find a way to cover up the fake dating situation, "Uh, yeah, we are," you stammered, but Heeseung's piercing gaze told you he wasn't convinced.
"I can tell it's fake," He said softly, stepping closer to you. You stare down. You then felt a hand come up to your cheek, "If your relationship is not real, is it okay if I do this?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Before you could respond, he leaned in and kissed you. You could taste the faint hint of alcohol on his lips, and your mind went blank, not knowing how to react.
Just then, the door swung open, and you saw Jay standing there, his eyes wide with surprise, "Jay, I can explain," You blurted out, panic rising in your chest.
Jay held up a hand, cutting you off, "It's fine," He said, a strange look in his eyes, "You finally got him." With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you and Heeseung alone.
Heeseung looked confused, trying to process what Jay meant. But you couldn't stay any longer. You had to go after Jay, "I need to go," you said to Heeseung, rushing out of the room to find Jay and explain everything.
You rushed out of the room, your heart pounding as you pushed past people at the party. The music and chatter seemed like a distant hum as you focused solely on finding Jay. You finally spotted him near the exit, and you quickened your pace, calling out his name, “Jay, wait!"
He stopped and turned around, his expression unreadable. You caught up to him, breathless, "I didn't know what to do," You said, your voice trembling, “I didn't expect Heeseung to kiss me."
Jay looked at you, his eyes hardening, "Why are you so scared? Our relationship didn't mean anything," He said flatly.
His words stung, and you felt a pang of hurt. "Be honest with me, Jay," You demanded, your voice breaking, “Do you like me?"
There was a heavy silence as he looked at you, his face devoid of emotion. After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke, "I never did."
You stood there, stunned, as he turned and walked towards his car. You watched him drive away, feeling a lump form in your throat. For some odd reason, you felt tears welling up in your eyes, and you stood there, heartbroken and alone.
You wiped your teary eyes, trying to compose yourself before heading back inside. The party was still in full swing, but everything felt different now. You spotted Heeseung across the room and made your way over to him, your heart heavy with mixed emotions.
Heeseung noticed you immediately, concern etched on his face, "Hey, are you okay?" he asked softly.
You ignored his question, your mind racing, "Heeseung, do you like me?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Heeseung looked at you, his eyes sincere, "I do," He said, "I really like you. And I want to make it official, if that's okay with you."
A small smile tugged at your lips as you nodded, "Yes, Heeseung. I'd like that."
Heeseung's face lit up with relief and happiness. He pulled you into a warm hug, and before you knew it, his lips were on yours. But as he kissed you, something felt off. The kiss was gentle and sweet, but it didn't stir the emotions you expected. There was a hollowness, a sense that something was missing.
You pulled away slightly, looking into Heeseung's eyes. He smiled at you, completely unaware of the turmoil inside you. You forced a smile back, trying to push away the lingering doubts. For now, you were with Heeseung, and that was what mattered.
The next morning, you woke up to the sound of your phone ringing. Half asleep, you glanced at the screen and, for a moment, thought it was Jay. But when you saw Heeseung's name, you remembered giving him your number the night before.
"Hello," You answered, trying to sound awake.
"Good morning," Heeseung replied cheerfully, "Can I pick you up? I'd like to take you to school."
"Sure," You said, sending him your address. You got out of bed and started getting ready, but something didn't feel right.
As you brushed your hair and picked out your clothes, you couldn't stop thinking about how it would feel if it were Jay calling you. The idea of hearing his voice on the other line filled you with a mix of nostalgia and sadness.
Finally, you were ready and went downstairs to wait for Heeseung. As you waited, you couldn't help but feel that something was missing. The excitement and spark you felt with Jay weren't there. But you tried to push those thoughts aside and focus on the present.
When Heeseung arrived, he greeted you with a big smile and a warm hug. You got into his car, trying to leave your doubts behind and enjoy the moment. But deep down, you couldn't ignore the feeling that something just didn't quite fit.
Heeseung drove you to school, the morning sun casting a warm glow over the streets. As you pulled into the parking lot, you noticed students glancing your way. Whispers and curious looks followed you both as you walked through the halls. It seemed like everyone had heard about you and Jay, and now seeing you with Heeseung was stirring up even more gossip.
You tried to ignore the stares and focused on Heeseung, who was chatting with you about the upcoming day. His presence was comforting, but the curious eyes around you made it hard to relax. As you reached your classroom, Heeseung turned to you with a smile.
"I'll see you later," He said, giving you a quick wave before heading off to his own class.
"Bye," You replied, watching him go. You took a deep breath and stepped into the classroom, trying to shake off the feeling of being watched.
The morning passed by in a blur of classes and assignments. What surprised you is that you didn’t see Jay in your second period. You just assumed he didn’t wanna see you.
When lunchtime finally arrived, you were gathering your things when Heeseung appeared at your classroom door.
“Hey, do you want to eat lunch with me, Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon?" He asked casually.
At the mention of Jay's name, you froze for a moment. Your mind raced, but you forced a smile and nodded, "Sure, that sounds great."
You shoot Kazuha a text before following Heeseung to the cafeteria, your heart pounding a little faster with each step. When you reached the table, you noticed Jay wasn't there. Jake and Sunghoon greeted you both with smiles, but you couldn't help but wonder where Jay was.
"Where's Jay?" Heeseung asked, looking around.
Sunghoon shrugged, "I called him, but he said he didn't want to come to school today."
Heeseung seemed to brush it off, but you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. As you sat down and joined the conversation, your thoughts kept drifting back to Jay. Why hadn't he come to school? The question lingered in your mind, even as you tried to focus on the friends around you.
After school, you approached Heeseung and told him you were going shopping with Kazuha and that she would give you a ride. Heeseung nodded and smiled at you.
"Okay, I’ll call you later," He said, waving goodbye.
You walked over to Kazuha, who was waiting for you in her car. Seeing you, she frowned with concern.
"Are you okay? You seem a bit down lately, even though you got Heeseung in the end," Kazuha commented as you got into the car.
"Yeah, I'm fine," You replied, trying to sound convincing.
The drive to the mall was quiet, with Kazuha chatting about the latest news while you nodded distractedly. When you arrived, Kazuha followed you as you walked towards a guitar shop.
"What are we doing here?" She asked, visibly confused.
Without responding, you headed straight to the guitar section and picked out an expensive guitar that you knew Jay had always wanted. Kazuha looked at you with wide eyes as you paid for it.
"Why did you buy that?" She asked, still in shock.
"I promised Jay I'd give him the guitar he always wanted," You explained, remembering the promise you had made.
Kazuha nodded slowly, recalling, "You're a good person," She said softly.
But inside, you couldn't help but feel differently. As you both left the store, you felt the guitar in your hands, and a weight in your heart.
For the past few days, you had been spending a lot of time with Heeseung. Everything seemed perfect, but you couldn't help but notice how distant Jay had become.
He barely acknowledged you in class, and it felt like he was avoiding both you and Heeseung. The once warm and friendly interactions had turned cold and distant, leaving you feeling uneasy.
One morning, as you finished your first period, Heeseung approached you with a smile, "Hey, did you know it's Jay's birthday today?" He asked casually.
You nodded, feeling a pang of sadness, "Yeah, I know," You replied.
"Well, he's having a small get-together after school, and he said you should come too," Heeseung continued, watching your reaction.
You were taken aback, "He said that?" You asked, surprised. Given how Jay had been ignoring you lately, you found it hard to believe he would want you at his birthday celebration.
"Yeah, he did. He said it's fine," Heeseung reassured you, sensing your hesitation.
You were still skeptical but decided to trust Heeseung, "Okay, I'll come," You agreed, hoping that maybe this could be a chance to mend things with Jay.
The school day passed slowly, with Jay continuing to ignore you in class. The tension was palpable, and you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. When the final bell rang, you met up with Heeseung, who seemed excited about the party.
As you and Heeseung drove to Jay's house together, you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. There was a part of you that was nervous about seeing Jay, but another part that hoped this could be a turning point. When you arrived, you were greeted by a few of Jay's close friends, but Jay himself was nowhere to be seen.
Heeseung led you inside, and after a few minutes, Jay finally appeared. He looked surprised to see you but didn't say anything. Instead, he just gave you a small nod before turning his attention to Heeseung.
The party went on, but you couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place. Jay's distant behavior was confusing, and you wondered if coming here was a mistake.
However, as the night progressed, you noticed Jay stealing glances at you, almost as if he was trying to figure out what to say.
Finally, as the party was winding down, you decided it was time to give Jay his gift. Nervously, you approached him and handed him the case, "Happy birthday, Jay," You said softly.
Jay's eyes widened in surprise as he opened the case and saw the guitar, "You actually got this for me?" He asked, clearly stunned.
You nodded, "Yeah, I did. It's the least I could do after you helped me get Heeseung."
Jay looked at you, his expression softening, "I can't take this," He said, shaking his head.
"Please, take it. You deserve it," You insisted.
Jay finally accepted the guitar, his eyes filled with gratitude, "Thank you," He said sincerely.
You just smiled and went back to Heeseung, feeling a mix of emotions. Soon, the party ended, and as you and Heeseung were leaving, Jay called out, "Take care."
Heeseung gave Jay a hug, and Jay just gave you a smile. You smiled back, but deep down, you missed the warmth of the old Jay, the one who used to be close to you.
"Of course," You replied, trying to sound cheerful, "Happy birthday, Jay."
He gave you a small smile, and for a moment, it felt like things might be okay. But the distance between you was still there, and you couldn't help but think you had caused it in the first place.
The evening sky was painted with hues of orange and pink as Heeseung pulled up in front of your house. The car ride had been filled with comfortable silence, the kind that spoke volumes without needing words. As he turned off the engine, you hesitated for a moment before speaking.
"Do you want to come inside for a bit?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Heeseung looked at you, a small smile playing on his lips, “Sure, why not?"
You both got out of the car and walked to the front door. Once inside, you offered him a drink, and he accepted. The two of you settled on the couch, drinks in hand, and started talking about everything and nothing. As the conversation flowed, you couldn't help but bring up the question that had been nagging at you for a while.
"Heeseung, can I ask you something?" You began, your eyes searching his.
"Of course," He replied, leaning in slightly, his expression attentive.
“Why did it take you so long to talk to me?" You asked, your voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of sadness.
Heeseung looked taken aback for a moment, “What do you mean?"
"You know, before I started dating Jay," you clarified, “When we played spin the bottle.”
Heeseung shrugged bashfully, “To be honest, I’m not really sure. I was drunk and I was just saying whatever the hell. But I'm glad he didn’t kiss you.”
You giggled until you thought of another one, “It was cute though when you gave me that note."
Heeseung's face went from shy to confused, "What note?"
You got up and went to your room, returning with a small piece of paper, "This one," You said, handing it to him, "You gave it to me a few months ago."
Heeseung unfolded the note and read it, his brow furrowing, "I never gave this to you," He said, looking genuinely puzzled.
You frowned, "But a boy gave it to me and said it was from you."
Heeseung shook his head slowly, "I never wrote this."
A thought suddenly struck you, and you grabbed the note from Heeseung, examining it closely, "Wait a minute," You said, your eyes widening as realization dawned on you, "This looks like Jay's handwriting."
Heeseung's eyes widened in surprise, “Jay? Are you serious?"
You remember how his handwriting was when you guys passed notes back and forth in class out of boredom. You just didn’t look at the note for those past months. Everything suddenly clicked into place.
That boy that had given you the note, he was pointing at Jay, not Heeseung. Your heart raced as you pieced together the puzzle, feeling a mix of confusion and betrayal.
"It wasn't you," You whispered, more to yourself than to Heeseung, "It was Jay."
Heeseung reached out and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, "I'm sorry you had to go through that misunderstanding," He said softly, "But I'm here now."
You looked up at him, gratitude and warmth filling your chest. But at the same time, you couldn’t stop thinking about Jay, “H-Heeseung thank you, but the only reason why I liked you, was because I thought you gave me this note, and you liked me that long too.”
Heeseung's smile faltered. It was silent for a few seconds before he let out a sigh, “You like Jay, don’t you? All those times spent together really helped you find your one.”
“I guess I didn’t really know at all.” You muttered. Heeseung cupped your face, staring into your eyes. You could tell the sadness in his eyes.
“I don’t blame you for liking Jay, I blame myself for loving you too late.” He sadly smiled. You hugged him tightly, he wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his head in your neck.
As you stood there, the warmth of Heeseung's embrace enveloping you, you felt a mix of emotions swirling inside. Heeseung gently pulled back, looking into your eyes with a serious expression.
"You need to tell Jay," He said softly.
You nodded, understanding the weight of his words. Heeseung gave you one last reassuring smile before turning and walking away. You watched him leave, feeling a sense of finality.
Taking a deep breath, you pulled out your phone and dialed Jay's number. He picked up after a few rings, his voice laced with confusion, "Hey, what's up? Why are you calling?"
"Can you come over?" You asked, your voice trembling slightly.
Jay hesitated, "I don't think I should... because of Heeseung."
"We broke up," You said, your voice steadying. There was a pause on the other end, and then Jay spoke again, his confusion evident, "Wait, what? You broke up?"
"Just come over, please," You urged. You hanged up not wanting to hear him talk.
A few minutes later, there was a knock on your door. You opened it to find Jay standing there, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. Before he could say anything, you closed the distance between you and kissed him. Jay was taken aback but quickly responded, his arms wrapping around you.
When you finally pulled away, you looked up at him and said, "You were the one who gave me the note."
Jay's eyes widened in surprise, "How did you know?"
You chuckled softly, "Because only you would do something cheesy like that."
Jay laughed, the sound warm and genuine. How you missed it. "Guilty as charged."
Before you could say anything else, Jay leaned in and kissed you again, this time with more confidence. The kiss deepened, and soon you found yourselves lost in each other, the world outside forgotten.
The kiss became hot feeling , feeling Jay's tongue hot inside your mouth. You let out tiny moans when he began pushing you on the couch nearby. You wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to make the kiss deeper.
Jay broke the kiss and connected foreheads with you, both of you panting, “Been wanting to do that since we started this deal.” He panted. You smiled and pecked his lips.
“Surprised you didn’t wanna do it before that. But then again, you did hate me.” You teased. Jay scoffed and kissed your lips again.
“I didn’t hate you. Just didn’t wanna get rejected.” He admitted. You furrowed your eyebrows and rubbed his cheek with your hand.
“I’m sorry you felt that way. But you have me now, and I’m all yours.” You whispered.
“All mine.” He replied. He kissed along your jaw and sucked on it. You moaned softly and threw your head back.
He suddenly stopped leaving you confused before he flips you over in your stomach. He lifted your sweater up and off you. You arched your back, your ass hitting his groin. That earned a slap making you whimper. He then slowly slid your shorts off with your underwear.
You felt the cold air hitting your wet pussy and clenched. Jay fingers dipped easily inside you from behind causing you to arch your back while clenching a nearby pillow. His long thick fingers going in and out so smooth because of your dripping pussy.
You tried grinding down on them, but let out a sharp scream feeling your hair being pulled back, “You’re gonna take what I fucking give you.” He rasped out. You tried nodding your head, but couldn’t with the tightness of his grip on your hair.
He went a fast pace, however then went at a slow pace teasingly. You whined wanting him to go faster, “P-Please Jay!” You cried out. Jay didn’t listen to you and took his fingers out. You panted hard wanting to cum and being upset with the loss of contact.
You heard rustling behind you and turned your head back and saw Jay taking off his clothes too. You bit your lip, drooling over his dick. He stroked it slow and steady, “Ready?” He said. You nodded frantically and sticked your ass out more to him.
He gripped your waist and slowly, he entered. You both moaned in unison. He cursed feeling your hot walls engulf him tightly. You gasped for air feeling his dick fill you up.
He didn’t waste anytime and started going at a fast pace. You let out a squeal feeling his balls slapping against your pussy, adding a big amount of pleasure.
“Hah! Slow down J-Jay!” You wailed out. Jay chuckled and wrapped his hand around your neck, pushing your head down against the couch. You felt it hard to breathe, nonetheless it felt so good being manhandled.
“Pussy feels so good. Such a good girl for me~” He breathed out.
“Y-Yes! O-Only for you.” You moaned. Jay hummed, approving. And he’s never gonna let you go again.
You felt your orgasm coming, “G-Gonna cum! cumming, cumming!-“ You felt your jaw go slack feeling your orgasm. Jay didn’t stop. He continued fucking you through your orgasm leaving you shaking.
“You’ll be a good girl and wait? Gonna fucking breed this pussy till it’s full of my cum.” Jay groaned. You look behind you and gave Jay a seductive look.
“Please cum inside me.” You pleaded. That’s all it took before you felt warm cum filling you. Your eyes rolled back before you came again. Jay cursed and took his dick out, surprised you came again.
You panted heavenly and felt Jay wrap his arms around you, “Are you okay?” He asked, kissing the nape of your neck.
You smiled and nodded, “Just fine.” You responded. He chuckled and placed his head on top of yours. You both didn’t say anything else as sleep overtook both of you and soon you both fell asleep in each others warmth.
The next morning, you woke up on the couch, feeling a bit disoriented. As you rubbed your eyes, the memories of last night came flooding back, and a smile crept onto your face. You noticed you were clean and wearing fresh clothes, which made you wonder how that happened. Then, a delicious aroma wafted through the air, drawing you towards the kitchen.
You walked in to find Jay standing by the stove, cooking. He turned and saw you, a warm smile spreading across his face, "Hey, I hope you don't mind that I'm using your kitchen," He said.
"It's fine," You replied, feeling a surge of affection. You walked up to him and wrapped your arms around his waist from behind. Jay chuckled, clearly amused.
"What are you doing?" He asked, his voice light and teasing.
"You're warm," You said simply, resting your head against his back.
Jay laughed softly, "Well, breakfast is almost done."
You just smiled, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. This was a moment you wanted to hold onto forever.
After finishing the delicious breakfast Jay had prepared, you both cleaned up the kitchen together, sharing light conversation and laughter. Once everything was tidied up, you suggested watching a movie, and Jay agreed with a smile. You both settled on the couch, picking a movie that you both liked.
After the movie, Jay turned to you with a mischievous smile, "I have a surprise for you," He said, his eyes twinkling with excitement.
You tilted your head, feeling a mix of curiosity and confusion, "A surprise? What is it?"
Jay chuckled softly, "You'll see. Just get ready. Wear something comfortable."
You nodded, the anticipation building as you went to your room to change. After a few minutes, you returned, dressed and ready. Jay took your hand and led you to his car. The drive was filled with light chatter and laughter, but Jay kept the destination a secret.
When you finally arrived, Jay parked the car and turned to you with a playful grin, "Okay, now for the fun part," He said, pulling out a blindfold.
You raised an eyebrow, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness, "A blindfold? Really?"
Jay nodded, his grin widening, "Trust me, it'll be worth it."
You allowed him to tie the blindfold around your eyes, plunging you into darkness. Jay took your hand again, guiding you out of the car. As you walked, you felt the ground change beneath your feet, from pavement to something softer. Sand. You couldn't help but ask, "Where are we?"
Jay only chuckled, continuing to lead you forward. After a few more steps, he stopped, "Okay, you can take off the blindfold now."
You removed the blindfold and gasped. Before you was a beautiful picnic setup on the beach. The very same beach where you had once spilled your drink on Jay, a moment that had been both awkward and endearing. The sight was breathtaking—blankets, cushions, and a spread of delicious-looking food, all laid out under the soft glow of fairy lights.
Tears welled up in your eyes as you took it all in, "Jay, this is... this is beautiful," You said, your voice trembling with emotion.
Jay smiled, his eyes filled with tenderness, “Just like you," He replied softly.
You wiped away a tear, still in awe, "How did you do all this?"
Jay chuckled, looking a bit sheepish, “I had some help. Jake, Sunghoon, and Heeseung pitched in."
You couldn't help but smile, knowing that even Heeseung had helped out. You turned to Jay, feeling a surge of affection, "Thank you," You whispered, leaning in to kiss him.
The kiss was sweet and filled with gratitude. You both settled down on the blankets, enjoying the food and each other's company. The sound of the waves crashing gently against the shore added to the magic of the evening.
As you ate, you couldn't help but steal glances at Jay, feeling incredibly lucky to have him in your life. The surprise, the effort, and the thoughtfulness behind it all made you realize just how much he cared. And in that moment, surrounded by the beauty of the beach and the warmth of Jay's presence, you felt truly happy.
As you guys finished eating and now watching the ocean crashing together with a beautiful sound, you found yourself glancing at Jay more than the scenery. The warmth of his presence and the memory of last night filled your mind.
You couldn't ignore the growing urge to close the distance between you two. Taking a deep breath, you turned towards Jay, who noticed your gaze and looked at you with curiosity.
Without overthinking it, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. Jay's eyes widened in surprise for a moment, but then he responded, kissing you back gently. Encouraged by his response, you deepened the kiss, pouring all the emotions you had been feeling into it.
Jay's arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer. The kiss grew more passionate, and you found yourself climbing onto his lap, straddling him. You continued kissing him, feeling the intensity of the moment building. Jay's hands roamed your back, holding you tightly as if he never wanted to let go.
You broke the kiss briefly to catch your breath, your foreheads resting against each other. Jay looked into your eyes, his expression a mix of happiness and something deeper. You smiled, and without a word, you leaned in to kiss him again. This time, the kiss was slower, more deliberate, as if you were both savoring every second.
The ocean and seagulls made noise in the background, but neither of you paid attention to it. All that mattered was the lust you felt in that moment, the unspoken feeling that Jay also feels. You continued kissing Jay, feeling a sense of rightness and contentment that you had never felt before.
You then broke the kiss again and suddenly went between his legs. Jay stares confused, but you just smiled innocently and stoked his cloth dick. He groaned and slowly threw his head back. You felt his dick becoming hard fast and played with the strap bands of his sweats.
You pulled them down softly with the help of him by lifting up his lower body. His dick slapped against his lower stomach. You drooled, staring at it and gently took it in your hands. He moaned and bit his lip. You gave it kitten licks before going to the tip, sucking it just a little, but giving it enough for Jay to want more.
You watched his expressions. His brows furrowed, his eyes hazed, hair still messy from last night, his mouth open and wanting to be kissed, his shirt sticking with sweat. You decided to stop the teasing and engulfed his dick fully. Jay let out a loud moan and held your head, trying to steady himself. You sucked it hard and slow making his head feel dizzy.
“Ah- Fuck! Have you done this before?” Jay questioned. If you haven’t, you're pretty good for a beginner. You looked up at him with those pretty eyes almost making him cum right then and there, but he held back. You tried shaking your head with his dick still in your mouth making him sigh feeling you bob against it.
You felt his balls tighten against your hands indicating he was gonna cum. Jay thrust up a few times making you gag before he finally came. Spurts of his cum going down your throat. He panted while still holding your head. You let go of his dick and wiped your mouth, “Did I do good?”
“You did amazing.” He smiled. You giggled and stood up. You watched Jay pull his boxers and sweatpants back up before grabbing your wrist making you lay right on top of him.
The only sound heard was the water splashing and Jay's heartbeat. You closed your eyes hearing it. It sounded so loud, and yet so calm. You couldn’t help but say those three words, “I love you.”
You felt Jay froze as he looked down at you. He then smiled and leaned to kiss you, “I love you too, pretty.” He said. You smiled back.
As you both continued watching the scenery, you felt a surge of happiness fill through your body. You loved Jay, since the moment he agreed to fake date you. You were glad that happened, unless none of this would have happened.
And as you looked at Jay once more, you knew he was the right man for you, and for the rest of your life.
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neo127 · 12 days ago
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♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧ seeing their lock screen
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genre. hcs, established relationship & fluff cw. none!! ⋆·˚ ༘ * idk what this is i just wanted to write something
archives
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HEESEUNG — “you’re so whipped.” riki chuckled once he saw heeseung’s lock screen. the picture was of you sleeping and upon finding out, you were mortified. you had no idea when heeseung had even taken the picture, nor were you aware of him using it as his wallpaper.
“i’m going to kill you.” you muttered, looking into his eyes with a serious expression. heeseung simply rolled his eyes before pulling you close to his chest and placing a kiss on your head.
“but you look so cute when you’re sleeping.” he replied, a teasing smirk on his face. you tried to fight your way out of his grasp but unfortunately he was stronger. you laid limp in his arms, pretending to be angry but secretly loving the fact that you were on his lock screen.
JAY — he had left his phone in the living room to charge near the couch as he cooked dinner for you two. you sat down watching a movie, your focus disrupted by jay’s phone lighting up. a tad bit curious, you peeked over to see that only his dad had texted him. but what really caught your attention was your picture, one jay had taken on a cafe date of yours. the light from outside casted a perfect glow onto your face as you smiled at the camera- it was one of those photos you thought you looked beautiful in. you smiled to yourself and turned back to the movie, barely paying attention since your thoughts were plagued of jay looking at your face every time he turned on his phone.
JAKE — “it’s hilarious, i have to show you.” jake chuckled to himself as he pulled out his phone from his jeans. he had found yet another tiktok video that he just had to show you despite him sending about a million of them to you a day. when jake turned on his phone, you caught a glimpse of your faces before his home screen was displayed.
“wait!” you pause jake from opening the app and try to snatch the phone out of his hands but he dodged you.
“i want to see your lock screen.” you pouted, giving the man your best puppy dog eyes. jake scoffed, his ears suddenly turning red. after staring jake down for about a minute, he sighed and showed you his phone. the picture was of you two from a photobooth. there were a few different photos but your favorite happened to be in the middle of the screen. you were holding jake’s face while placing a kiss on his cheek and he was smiling widely.
“very cute.” you giggled before kissing his nose.
SUNGHOON — “ugh, why is that your lock screen? i hate that picture.” sunghoon groaned once he saw the picture you set as your wallpaper. it was a silly selfie sunghoon had sent to you one day when you were apart but of course, he still managed to look handsome.
“you look fine. what’s yours anyway? is it me?” you asked, watching as sunghoon turned on his phone to reveal the default wallpaper. a wave a disappointment washed over you, even though it wasn’t that big of a deal. sunghoon chuckled at your sad expression before unlocking his phone and revealing that his home screen was a picture of you. a very unflattering photo.
“you want to complain about my lock screen and yet your wallpaper is a photo of me mid blink?!”
SUNOO — “i can’t believe you have me as your wallpaper on your desktop.” you spoke up after gawking at the screen. sunoo looked over your shoulder at the picture before smiling.
“you’re also my wallpaper on my phone, see?” sunoo said before showing you the device. sure enough the picture was a 0.5 selfie of you two on one of your many dates. it had been a favorite of sunoo’s and he thought you looked gorgeous in the photo.
“i also have a polaroid on the back of my phone.” he added, showing you yet another picture of yourself. you smiled, finding it adorable how obsessed your boyfriend was with you.
“i love you a lot sunoo.”
JUNGWON — “can you see my screen?” jungwon asked during your facetime. the two of you we’re currently apart and missing each other like crazy so you decided to schedule a call. jungwon wanted to show you a new game that he had been obsessed with and remembered that you could share your screen on facetime.
“awh won, your lock screen is so cute.” you cooed as you observed the picture of you together. it was one jungwon had taken of you two, nose to nose and smiling at each other. it was one of your favorites and looking at it only made you miss your boyfriend more.
“it helps looking at your face often when you’re not around.” jungwon admitted with a rosy tint to his cheeks. you smiled at the boy, really wishing that you could have him in your arms.
“i miss you too, won.”
RIKI — “what picture do you have set as your lock screen?” you asked one day as you and riki laid on his bed. you were curious since you had changed yours to yet another riki ‘boyfriend picture’ you had taken.
“none of your business.” your boyfriend grumbled, causing you to roll over and start wrestling the boy for his phone. riki began to laugh, his long arms successfully keeping the device out of your reach as you poked and pulled at his body.
“ugh fine, get off me though.” riki groaned as he pushed you off of his stomach. he finally showed you only for it to end up being a picture of tokyo that he had taken.
“what about your home screen?” you asked, still slightly hopeful. riki unlocked his phone to reveal the same exact photo. you frowned and riki smirked at your disappointed expression.
“i’m assuming you were hoping to see yourself? did you even see the back of my phone?” he asked, turning the device around to show you a polaroid picture tucked under his case. it was a candid picture of you but to riki, it was definitely one of your best photos.
“all is forgiven.” you joked before placing a kiss on his cheek.
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unequivocallyreid · 2 months ago
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Why Didn’t You Tell Me?
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it has been SO long... i was suffering from serious writers block but it think i'm finally out of it :)
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader
summary: Spencer Reid used to be your best friend, but things changed. How long can you pretend that you don't love him before it ruins you?
warnings: angst! (with a happy ending), smut (unprotected piv), character loss, mention of Maeve, very sad Spencer, mental health struggles, drinking/bar scene, light choking, fighting, slight praise kink
wc: 8.8k 🤗
i’m very proud of this one! i hope you love it!
Every morning when you wake up, you feel a familiar and creeping sort of dread in the pit of your stomach.
Don’t get the wrong idea; you love your job. You love helping people and stopping horrible people from ruining any more lives, but the creeping feeling and desire to get out is always in the corner of your mind. Anyone working in this field would tell you that. There’s no absolute separation between you and the victims and their families. You take all of them home with you, and you just have to learn how to deal with that and not let it eat at you.
It doesn’t help that it’s an isolating job as well. The last time you were in a serious relationship was in college. Now, every date you have ends in disappointment. Not only do you lack interest in most of the men and women, but it couldn’t go anywhere even if you did. 75% of your time is spent in the office, on a jet, or hundreds of miles away from your home.
All of this contributes to the feeling, but the worst part of your job is Dr. Spencer Reid.
He’s secretive and dismissive and just about the most attractive person you’d ever seen. You honestly don’t know what is worse: his constant physical presence in your life or the fact that you can’t stop thinking about him no matter what you do. You’ve tried to get over it; you’ve buried yourself in work, lamented to your friends, and gone out on dates (all with guys that looked vaguely similar), but nothing has worked. All his worst traits grate your nerves and light you up at the same time.
The worst part of it all is that it wasn’t always like this. When you first joined the BAU nearly two years ago, you and Spencer got along well. You were friends, he talked to you about his life, he understood you, and you really severely fell for him. He became your best friend.
Everything changed around six months ago. Spencer started to develop migraines, and as those developed, he started distancing himself from you. He became snippy and closed off, he started hiding things from you, and he stopped talking to you about life outside of Quantico. It was like overnight, you became nothing to him, and you really didn’t understand. Everyone else on the team got the same old Spencer, but you went from his right-hand man to someone he only spoke to when it was necessary.
Maybe he didn’t deserve to be vilified. You know, realistically, he can and should be able to decide who he wants to be close to, but working with a man who unknowingly broke your heart was close to the hardest thing you’d ever done. So, you decided hating him was easier. The real emotions you feel toward him sit somewhere inside you, but they have been covered by manufactured distaste. Addressing the actual feeling would hurt too bad, so you pretend to hate the things you used to love.
Nothing, however, could have prepared you for the last case you worked on: helping Spencer save a girl he met about six months ago, a girl he loved. You tried to stay collected, you said nothing when Spencer assisted when he shouldn’t have, and goddamn, did you do everything in your power to find that girl. Maeve. She was perfect for Spencer, and you saw that immediately. Everyone did. The sight of him sobbing in front of her body is one that will never leave your mind.
Now, two weeks later, no one has heard from Reid. The only indication that he hasn’t abandoned his life altogether is the absence of the gift baskets on his doorstep that Pen leaves daily.
Nearly everyone has been to his apartment, but they are met with a closed door and have yet to receive a response. Everyone but you.
Penelope is the first to bring up your lack of appearance at the end of a long day of paperwork.
“Y/n, please, you just have to try. No one is getting anything from him.”
“I really don’t think my presence would do any good,” you pause for a moment, trying to collect the thoughts running through your head like a freight train. “Me and him haven’t been close in a long time, Pen.”
Before you can continue, she cuts in, “Everyone has tried, Y/n. Hell, I’ve even considered tracking down Gideon, and I really, really do not want to do that.”
She pauses for a moment before looking up at you with a pout on her face, “Please, Y/n, for me. I can’t bear the thought of him in there all alone, just wasting away in grief.”
For someone who claims not to be a profiler, Penelope knew exactly what to say to get you to agree. She’s the only person in your life who you told about how you felt, though you’re sure everyone else (aside from Spencer) knew: you’re shit at keeping secrets.
“Okay, okay, I’ll try.”
She nearly bursts with excitement, “Thank God-“
You cut her off before she can finish, “But I’m telling you, I’m not the person he wants to hear from right now. Don’t get your hopes up.”
“Yes, yes. I just want him to know we all want him to be okay.”
Before you can hurry out of the office to follow Pen’s instructions, she stops you and hands you a basket full of assorted snacks and fruits.
“Make sure he eats!”
The walk up to Spencer’s apartment is a hard one to take. The smell of his building hits you as soon as you step into the lobby. From there, everything rushes back at once. Memories of nights you spent watching reruns of Doctor Who or listening to him prattle off about whatever he last read assault you with every step. As you slowly make your way up, you start to question why you agreed to do this in the first place.
You feel a lot toward Reid. More than you should and less than you could. But all that care and feelings that are so close to love aren’t enough to make you forget why you’ve been trying to hate him for so long. He deserted you without an explanation and cut you off without a warning. You spent weeks (three months) crying over him like a love-struck teen. So, as much as you want to hold him and comfort him, you know it’ll hurt you to do so. Penelope sent you, with the whole team’s approval, you’re sure, to try to patch up a broken heart he got loving someone else. There’s a sickness in your gut, but it’s not enough to stop you from rapping your knuckles against his door.
“Spencer? It’s Y/n.”
There’s no response.
“I know you probably don’t want to hear from me right now, but I want to make sure you’re alright. Can you tell me you’re alright?”
Again, nothing.
You know he’s there. Despite your lack of communication, you know Spencer well enough to know that he would never leave his life behind entirely. That being said, your next few attempts at garnering a response are unsuccessful.
You decide to try one final time before just leaving the basket alone on his doorstep and texting Pen it was a bust.
“There’s a lot I don’t know about you now, and I won’t pretend to know what you’re feeling.”
You don’t exactly know where this is headed, but you continue on regardless.
“I know you’re in there, and I know you can hear me, and I know you’re hurting. You shouldn’t- I don’t want you to be alone right now, Spence. You can either unlock your door, or I can pick it, but I’m coming in one way or the other. You know I will.”
You wouldn’t, actually. It’s a last-ditch effort, and it’s met with the same silence you’ve heard on the other side for the past ten minutes. You’re about to turn to head back down the stairs when you hear the very faint sound of a deadbolt turning.
There’s no other sound or movement, and for a moment, you think you might’ve imagined the sound, but you try the handle anyway. It turns, and the door slides open. You take a step in.
“Spencer,” you call out to him.
You don’t see him at first in the mess of his apartment, but when you do, you feel a crack form in your heart.
Beyond the clutter of his entryway, you see his back on the couch. His frame looks smaller than you’ve ever seen it, and you can see his legs curled into his chest. You set down the gift basket by a collection of others on the entry table and walk over to him. Slowly, like you’re trying not to spook a lost dog, you creep in front of him.
His head is down, and his gaze stays trained on his knees.
You reach out your hand and lay it over his. He flinches but doesn’t pull away.
“Spence, I’m so glad you opened the door.”
You didn’t plan out what you would say, but ‘sorry’ feels redundant and useless.
You go on, “I’m here. I- I don’t know what to do or say, and I’m sorry that I don’t. I can get someone else for you. Just tell me what you need, and I’ll do it.”
You wait for him to say he wants Penelope or JJ, but it doesn’t come. Nothing comes. You start to move to get up, figuring you could clean up a bit and try to make him something to eat, then go, but he grasps your arm before you can.
He looks up at you, and his eyes hit you right in the gut. They’re bloodshot and sunken but still beautiful.
“Stay. Please. I just- I need to know I’m not dreaming. I keep thinking I’m dreaming.”
His voice is croaky from disuse and breaks at the end, but it’s so heartbreakingly earnest that you feel your breath catch. You move from your crouch and sit beside him on the couch; your hand is still in his.
You stay like that for a long time. His breathing is shakey and uneven, and every so often, his body shakes with what you can only assume are sobs. You stay pressed to his side the whole time, thumb rubbing back and forth over his hand.
Eventually, you speak again, “I’m gonna get you some food, Spence. You should eat.”
He says nothing back, but he does loosen his grip. You push yourself up from the coach with a promise you’ll be as fast as possible.
His kitchen is nearly empty, and you hope he’s been eating from the baskets. Still, you find enough to make noodles and butter, and you figure the carbs should help his energy some.
You return with the bowl. Spencer hasn’t moved, but his head follows you as you walk back over to him.
“It’s not fine dining.”
He studied you for a second, and you catch a glimpse of the old him in his eye.
“You did the same thing when I was sick on a case a year ago.”
You smile at his recollection.
“It helped you then.”
The rest of the night is spent mostly in silence. Occasionally, you tell him something to try to remind him that you’re there and that you won’t leave as long as he wants you there. Eventually, you get up from the couch again.
“Spencer, it’s too late to still be awake.”
He nods and still says nothing, but he is far more receptive than before. You reach your hand out to him to help him up from the couch, and he takes it.
He leads you to his room at a slow pace. His head stays down as you both take a seat on his bed, hands still interlocked. Being in his bedroom is odd for you. You’ve been to his apartment quite a few times before he disappeared from your life, but you never breached this space. It’s all very him. Almost surprisingly cozy, with books scattered around nearly everywhere there’s space.
You take in the moment for a beat before saying, “I’m gonna head home, Spencer, but please call me if you need anything at all. I’ll come back tomorrow.”
This makes his head snap up, and his eyes lock with yours.
“Please stay.”
That’s all he says, but every part of him is pleading with you. It’s not a good idea, and you know it. You’re the only person he’s seen in days, you aren’t close anymore, and you don’t particularly want to sleep on a couch tonight.
“Spencer, I don’t want to sleep in your living room tonight. I’ll come back.”
He pauses for a moment, “You can stay here with me. I don’t want to be alone.”
Your heart cracks again. There was a time when this was all you wanted. It’s still, deep down, all you want, just not like this. You know he doesn’t really want you there and he’s not himself. But you aren’t strong enough to say no, so you don’t.
He gets you clothes to wear, and you change in his bathroom. You come out and find him in his bed, laying with his back to you. You have no fucking idea what you’re doing, but you get into bed next to him anyways. There are a thousand thoughts racing through your head, but the prevailing one is how badly you want to touch him, to hold him, to make him forget, just for the night. You stay still, though, confined to the edge of the bed and start to count to drown out the noise.
Though, you can’t drown out his voice, saying, “Can- Could you hold me? I think that everything feels better when you touch me.”
Another crack. By the end of this, you know Spencer Reid is going to break your heart all over again.
~
When you wake up the next morning, Spencer is still asleep. You sneak out of his room and call Hotch. When he answers, you tell him Spencer has let you in, and you ask for time off to try to help. You can tell from his voice that he doesn’t think it’s a good idea, but he grants you it anyway.
Much of your day is spent like the night before. You stay next to Spencer, and you cook for him after leaving to pick up clothes and groceries. Then, you get him to shower and wash his hair. He sleeps with his head in your lap, and you feel like a fucking idiot at first, but as long as it’s helping him in some way, you let it happen.
That’s the thing: you don’t really know how to help him. You know he isn’t the type to talk about something until he is entirely ready, so all you can do is add something domestic and bright to his life while he grieves. It’s all you can think about in the moments of silence. Hell, you even read to him to try and get your mind off of it, but it barely helps.
The night is the same. You change in different rooms and slip into his bed at different times. You feel dirty for imagining what it would be like if the circumstances were different: if he wanted you like you have wanted him for the past two years. You hold him against you, and you pray for sign that you should be there.
The sign comes the following morning when Derek calls you.
“Y/n…”
You can hear his teasing tone over the phone.
“Hi, Derek.”
“What are you doing, mamas?”
You sigh, “What do you mean?”
You’re playing coy. You know he’s wondering why you’re at Spencer’s house, picking up the pieces, but you won’t be the one to bring it up.
“Why’d you ask Hotch for the week off, Y/n?”
Another sigh, “You know why, Derek. I just, I want to help him.”
“I know you do, Y/n, I know.”
He pauses for a moment, and you let the moment fill with silence.
“I know you care about him. We all care about him. But who is taking care of you?”
“I am. I can take care of him, and I can take care of me.”
“I know you can, but I don’t want you to get hurt, Y/n. Don’t let this be something that hurts you.”
“It won’t. I- You have to- Fuck, I’ll be fine. He’s not fine. I don’t care about me or any feelings that may get hurt right now. I’ll be fine.”
There’s another bear of silence, “Okay, Y/n. Just know you’re allowed to tap out.”
You try to think of anything else to say, but nothing comes, so you say your goodbyes.
You won’t need to tap out. You can take care of him and be good to him and ignore the other feelings you have. You can be good.
The call does make you think it’s time to push, to try harder, to help him get better. So, you approach him that day before bed, before he tucks himself into your arms and falls into a fretful sleep.
“Spencer?”
He takes a moment and then responds, “Yes?”
“You have to talk about it. I think that you need to talk about it. It doesn’t have to be to me but to someone.”
He’s quiet for a long time, and your breath is caught in your throat, waiting for him to say anything.
“I- I don’t want to,” his voice cracks while he says it.
“Spence, you can’t come back if you don’t. You can’t move forward if you don’t.”
“Maybe I don’t want to.”
A ringing echos in your ears.
“You don’t mean that. She- she would want you to keep going.”
Wrong thing to say.
“You don’t know anything about what she would want.”
He’s seething now, below the surface, but smoke has started to plume from his ears. Still, you don’t stop.
“Spencer, everyone knows that. No one would want you to put your life on hold.”
He speaks his next line through his teeth, “You don’t know anything, Y/n.”
You’ve never heard him sound so angry.
“Spencer-“
“No, just stop. You don’t know her. You don’t know me half as well as you think you do. You don’t know anything. I don’t even know why you’re here. I don’t want you here. You can't be what I need.”
The ringing in your ears is louder.
“Spencer, please. Just-“
“No!” His voice is raised now, bordering on a yell, “I don’t want you here. I want you out, Y/n.”
This has to be what shell shock feels like. The ringing, the tingle in your limbs, and the heat in your face. You don’t know how you are moving, but you are.
His voice is echoing in your head, or maybe he’s still talking, but you can’t tell either way. The only thing you can focus on is how Spencer sounded like he hates you and that Morgan was right about the hurt.
~
You spend the next day trying desperately to shut down the noise in your head. It doesn’t work. The day after is the same. And the days following that. You ignore calls when they come, you ignore the texts, but you can’t stop looking at your phone for a message from the man who fills your thoughts.
Spencer doesn’t call, obviously, and you have to sit with a pit in your stomach while you beg yourself to just get the fuck over it. Two years of reckoning with the severity of your love, months of watching him live happily without you, and it’s the three days you spent trying to help him feel incrementally better that floor you.
You feel like a dumb teenage girl with so much love and nothing to do with it. On top of everything, you feel selfish. Spencer lost the love of his life forever, and you’re nursing the worst heartbreak of your life because a boy will never want you and never has. Still, you send out prayers for him over and over. You hope you’ll see him in the BAU again, even if his eyes glaze over you. Hell, even if they look at you with hate the way they did two days ago. You just want him to function. You want him to be good and eventually be happy. You try to go to bed with soothing thoughts, but you end up with a mantra of his name.
You wake to your alarm and dress for work before you realize you aren’t actually supposed to go back yet. You never set a date to return. You wanted to be open as long as Spencer needed you. You’re supposed to be with him. You’re supposed to be helping and not tapping out. But you aren’t.
You have no reason not to return to the bullpen, so you do. You walk in and feel eyes on you. You wait for Morgan to call out to you, but he doesn’t, so you follow the feeling.
Your breath catches in your throat; it’s Spencer. He’s sitting at his desk, paperwork spread out, and he doesn’t look away from your gaze; he just holds it. His face is unreadable, and yours is definitely not, so you look away first. You don’t look up again until you reach Hotch’s office. You knock and hear him call out to come in.
“I’m back if that’s okay.”
He looks up at you, and you want to cry. You know he can read you. He has always been the best at it.
“Are you okay with that, Y/l/n?”
You lock eyes with him, “Yes, sir.”
It’s no use; he knows your tells and you aren’t being honest.
“Alright, conference room in five.”
Whatever he sees in your face, he ignores and takes you at your word, but there’s a warning in his tone. He knows when to let things go and when to push. More than that, though, he knows you’d never let something like this affect your work.
~
The first case back is in Maryland, and the one after is in Austin, and the next is in Philadelphia with The Replicator. The job takes you all over the country, and the cases blend together. You don’t speak to Spencer through all of it. You’re never partnered, never work together, you sit on opposite ends of the jet. You don’t even speak at Strauss’ funeral. It’s radio silent, and everyone notices it, but no one brings it up.
In that time, you allow yourself to slip away slightly. You don’t go out with the team, you see Pen at nearly half frequency, and basically, the only time you speak is on cases. It’s stupid and melodramatic, but you call it healing. Derek tries to reason with you, JJ sticks to you a bit more than usual, and Penelope calls you virtually whenever she can, but their efforts are mostly in vain. This is your way of protecting yourself. You feel like you have to isolate in order to improve, and you know, given time, you will come back to yourself.
Penelope’s insistence that you go to her Day of the Dead celebration breaks your distance.
“Y/n, please come. I know you aren’t going out, but you have to. I know you have people to honor, and I need you there.”
You sigh, “Whose going, Pen?”
“The team, which you are a part of, so you must be there.”
“I don’t think I can do that. I promise you I will celebrate with you. I’ll help you set up, just please don’t make me go.”
Penelope pauses, but the glint in her eye keys you into the fact that she is not interested in giving up.
“We miss you, Y/n. Everyone loves you and misses you. You’ve been living this stupid, isolated life, and it’s time for you to come back. You are not this person. I refuse to believe it. You’re coming, and that’s final.”
Maybe you don’t have the energy to argue, or maybe you know she’s right, but you agree to go.
~
The thought of seeing him makes your heart race, and the clock you keep glancing at makes it worse. Just a few more hours before you're trapped in a confined space (Pen’s beautiful home) with a man you haven’t spoken to in weeks.
You busy yourself with preparing. Lights are hung, food is made, and you make a trip to the store while Pen sets up her remembrance table. When everything is said and done, you can’t help but feel this is the most beautiful thing you’ve been a part of in a long time.
The first knock comes at 7:30 exactly, and it’s Hotch and Rossi. They are followed closely by Blake, then Derek and JJ. By 7:00, the atmosphere is light and loving, and you feel a bit of your anxiety let up as the minutes go by without Reid. But, eventually, the knock comes, of course it does, and you move into a corner as Spencer walks in. You feel a shift in energy, though you doubt it’s palpable for anyone else. Rossi is the first to make his way over to you, and his presence comforts you nearly immediately.
“How you doing, kid?” His voice is soft like he’s speaking to a scared rabbit.
“I’m better,” you say, and it’s about as honest as you can get. As much as you’d like to think he knows nothing about what’s gone on, you’re smarter than that. He’s the best profiler on the team, and he’s always known when someone was off with you. Even so, you are better than you were, even if you aren’t quite good, and you know he believes you.
There’s some idle conversation between you before he asks, “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not tonight. I don’t know when, but I will. Eventually, I will.”
It’s good enough for him, and you move on easily, which surprises you.
Right before Pen gathers you all to present your photos, he says, “Sometimes we think we’ve seen the whole picture, but we miss a big part. People do things because they don’t want to be hurt, but those things hurt them more. Just, be open.”
You don’t quite understand what he means, but you hope you will.
Penelope presents the first picture, which shows her parents. JJ honors her sister, Derek, his dad, Hotch Haley, and Rossi, Hernandez; then it’s your turn. You place down a photo of your best friend. You hadn’t talked much about her, but you think of her daily. She passed a few years before you joined the BAU.
“I was lucky to have someone that hurt that much to lose.”
That’s all you say, but it’s enough for you, and it would be enough for her.
Spencer is last. He places down a picture of Tesla and a picture of Maeve. Your heart is heavy for everyone.
The night dwindles from there. Hotch and Rossi say their goodbyes, and Rossi gives you a knowing look as he leaves. You just smile. You stay for a few minutes after, but eventually, you move to leave as well.
You make it down Garcia’s porch before you feel a hand grab your arm. You turn, and it’s Spencer’s face you see.
“Would you- Do you think you could come over? Do you think we could talk?”
~
The feeling you have walking up to Spencer's apartment is similar to what you felt the last time. You’re incredibly anxious, but at least you know you’ll be let in this time.
The drive over was silent. Spencer had taken the metro to Penelope’s, so he rode with you. It wasn’t necessarily awkward. There was just an understanding that the car wasn’t the place to begin your conversation.
Now, as Spencer unlocked his door, it’s one of those rare moments you felt starved for words, and you know it’s because you’re scared you’ll say the wrong thing and face the same reaction that you did the last time you were in his home.
He leads you to his living room and motions for you to sit, and you do. The two of you are on opposite ends of his couch while you wait for him to say something.
His first words are airy and light, “Thank you for letting me talk to you.”
You look at him but remain silent, waiting for him to go on. All you can think about is why he wants to speak to you at all. The last time you spoke, he made it incredibly clear he did not want you in his life or around him at all.
Before you can think about it more and let your anger and sadness build, he speaks again, “I feel really stupid right now. I kind of feel stupid whenever I’m around you recently.”
He pauses momentarily before going on, “I’m so, so sorry, Y/n. About the last time we spoke. I’ve been thinking about it pretty constantly for the past few weeks.”
You open your mouth, unsure of what exactly to say, but you can’t get there before he’s off again.
“I’m not sure how to talk to you anymore. I don’t think I’ve known how to for a long time. I just, I need you to know how sorry I am for speaking to you like that.”
He takes a shakey breath but keeps going, “That wasn’t me, and that isn’t how I feel. I’m just unbelievably sorry, Y/n.”
He stops there, and you work to collect your thoughts.
“I know. A part of me knows, at least, that you didn’t mean it. I just wanted to be there for you, and hearing that made me- I just- I think it made me hate myself for wanting to be there.”
“I’m so sorry. I’m unbelievably sorry.”
“You didn’t talk to me for months, Spencer. I just don’t understand. I don’t understand why you let me in in the first place. I thought you hated me.”
He’s silent for a long minute.
“I never hated you, Y/n. I just stopped knowing how to act around you, and then I met Maeve. I fell so deep into it that I couldn’t talk to anyone about it. I- And I just started to feel like you didn’t want me to speak to you, so I didn’t. But, when you came here, after everything, I guess I just felt like you were the only person who would get it. You never, no one on the team ever treated me or talked to me how you did. I just wanted that.”
Tears had begun to well in your eyes now. A part of you gets what he means, at least about letting you in, but the other part is so confused as to why he stopped being comfortable around you.
“I don’t understand, Spencer. Why did you stop knowing how to be around me?”
There’s desperation in your voice that makes you sound like a stranger to yourself. Maybe you’re a stranger to everyone right now.
“I uh, I don’t really know.”
“That's not fair, Spence.”
You’re crying now. Just a little bit, but you can feel the wetness on your cheeks. You can see that you are by the look on his face. He looks broken, and you know it's a reflection of your own image.
You wipe your face, “Thank you for apologizing, Spencer. I just, there are parts of this all that I don’t understand, and if you can't explain them to me, I don’t think I ever will.”
“Y/n-,” he calls out your name like a prayer.
“It’s okay, Spence. You don’t have to say anything more. We talked, and things will go back to how they were eventually.”
“I’m so sorry, Y/n.”
You smile sadly as you get up to leave.
“I am, too, for what it's worth. For whatever I did to make things change in the first place.”
You leave it at that, and it takes everything in you not to look back as you leave his apartment.
~
Things do get easier after that. Not completely. You still love him, and it hurts, but it helps to know he doesn’t hate you. He talks to you some, cordial things, and you do the same. You're sure your teammates still sense something is off, but this works for you. Right now, it works. Getting over him, not loving him anymore, is going to take work, but eventually, you know that you won’t hurt anymore.
Shortly after you and him talked, you started going back out with your friends. Spencer joined periodically, but that was normal. Bars were never really his scene.
Tonight, everyone gathers at your local pub. Your last case was particularly grueling, and you all need a way to blow off some steam. It's fun, and you feel good, even with Spencer sitting across from you. You feel proud of yourself for getting to this point.
JJ and Penelope feed you drinks to try and get you to dance, and you let them. Tonight feels as good of a night as any to ‘get back out there’ as Pen says. So, you do. You dance with them, and you ward off the other cops and agents around you who try to pull you away from your group. You aren’t interested in that. Right now, you're just having an appropriate amount of fun for a woman 15 feet from her boss.
Time goes by quickly, and by the time you get back to the table, you, Derek, Penelope, and JJ remain. He tells you that Hotch, Rossi, Reid, and Alex left a few minutes before. The conversation between you flows for a while, up until the drinks loosen Penelope up enough to bring up what you were pretty sure the team designated a no-no topic.
“Y/n, you have to talk about it.”
You’re still laughing as something Derek said when you reply, “What?”
“You know what. You and Boy-Genius. What on Earth happened? You went from ice-cold to semi-friendly. None of us saw it coming.”
“Babygirl-,” Derek tries to stop her, but you cut him off.
“No, it’s okay. I have to talk about it at some point, and I think right now is the only time I’ll be tipsy enough to let you get it out of me.”
You're still laughing slightly, but the pit that's lived in your stomach for the past few months starts to rear its head.
“After your Day of the Dead party, he asked to talk to me. I went to his place, and he apologized. I don’t really understand what he said or what he meant, but I can’t be sad about him forever.”
Pen perks up a bit at that, “I knew that party would bring good things!”
You giggle a bit at her outburst, but then JJ asks, “What did he say?”
The faces around you all tune in at that. You know they don’t see this as gossip. They care about you both too much to trivialize it like that.
“He just said that he stopped knowing how to act around me, and he didn’t know why, but then he met Maeve, and I guess it didn’t matter so much after that. He was my best friend, and then he was nothing.”
JJ shares a glance with Derek and then speaks, “Oh, Y/n.”
“What?”
After a beat, Derek says, “He didn’t just not know how to act around you.”
Now you're confused, “What do you mean? I talked to him, that's what he said. He didn’t know why. I mean, he knows everything and didn’t know why he didn’t want to be around me anymore. How fucking stupid is that.”
You laugh again, but it does come off as genuine in the slightest.
“Y/n, he probably doesn’t really know why. At least not fully. For someone as smart as he is, the kid can be really stupid.”
“Stop being cryptic.”
Derek sighs but goes on, “Pretty girl, pretty boy was in love with you. Probably still is. He just didn’t think you’d ever feel the same.”
“No. That's not true.”
You look at the others around you, but their faces are serious.
“He loved Maeve. He loves Maeve. That, that doesn’t make any sense.”
It's JJ’s turn to talk now.
“He definitely did love Maeve, no one is denying that, but we all saw how he was around you. His whole relationship with her was safe. He couldn’t be hurt by her rejection every day because he had no way of seeing her. With you, he could.”
Your mind is moving a mile a minute, “Did he tell you guys this?”
Penelope puts her hand over yours and says, “He didn’t have to, love. We all say the way he looked at you and acted around you. The way he talked about you. That boy was head over heels.”
“Guys, I appreciate whatever you’re trying to do, but this isn’t real. Spencer doesn’t- this is not real.”
“Y/n, pause. Think about the way he acted around you, the things he said. Think about how Reid is.”
You hear what Derek said, but it all sounds faint like someone stuffed your ears with cotton while you weren't paying attention. All you can focus on are the different scenes running through your head, the scenes of your life with Spencer in it. How he memorized your coffee order and brought it for you every day, how he never shied away from your touch despite his aversion to contact, how he consistently went out of his way to protect you on the field. At his house after everything, the way he clung to you and wanted to be held. How he said in his own words, “You can't be what I need”; not “you aren’t,” but “you can’t.”
Your whole world is crashing down in this bar, and you can’t do anything to stop it.
“Y/n?”
JJ’s voice snaps you out of your spiral.
“Just go talk to him.”
You nod mutely, and you get up.
~
Everything in the last ten months of your life has led you to the exact spot you were when everything blew up in the first place: Spencer’s door.
This time, you aren't too worried about him not letting you in. If anything, it's the opposite. Him opening this door could open a hundred others, and you don’t quite know if you are ready for any of them. You sit there and sit there and sit there, trying to work up the courage to knock, though you aren’t sure it's there to begin with. Right as you're about to walk away and decide you’ll come back another day, his door swings open.
“Y/n?”
His face is lit up with shock, and you notice his hand that is not on the door is holding his pistol.
“What are you doing here?”
You don’t answer, “Why did you open the door?”
He sets his piece down on the entry table before responding, “I heard footsteps in the hall and saw they stopped here. I was anxious. 50.3% of home invasions happen between 8:00 pm and 7:00 am.” He cuts himself off there, “Y/n, why are you here?”
You didn’t pay attention to anything he said. All you could think about was the way his lips were moving and the way his eyes locked onto yours as he talked.
“Do you love me?”
That is not what you wanted to say.
His lips fall open as he takes in a sharp breath, “What?”
“Or I guess did you love me? Before everything? Because Derek and JJ and Pen, they all said that you loved me, and now I can’t think about anything else, Spencer.”
He doesn’t speak, but you don't really give him a chance to.
“I just, I know I sound crazy right now, but I feel fucking crazy. I keep going over everything in my head, and I have been, for the past year I have been, but now it’s all different. It's all different because they said that you loved me, but you didn’t think I’d feel the same way.”
Here, you do pause, but he still doesn’t say anything, so you go on before you can stop yourself.
“Because if that's true, Spencer, it's just- I did. I do. And if it's not, then please just tell me so I can stop feeling this way.”
He sounds resigned when he says, “Y/n,” and you feel like you know what that means.
“Fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I'm doing this. You don’t have to say anything. Actually, please don’t say anything. I don't think I can hear it. Just pretend I never-”
He cuts off your ramble, “Y/n, stop.”
You draw your eyes from the floor, look up at him, and find something in his gaze you have never seen before. He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you, and it takes everything you have not to look away. His hand raises to cup your jaw, and your skin lights on fire. Before you can process what he’s doing, you feel his lips press against yours, and something clicks. At first, his touch is light, like he’s giving you the chance to pull away. But, when he grasps that you won’t, he presses himself to you harder, and all you can think about is how nothing has ever felt so right.
His lips move against yours, and you don’t know how you're managing to reciprocate because it feels like everything in your body has gone fuzzy. The kiss is by no means long, but it feels like it lasts forever, and by the time he pulls away, you’re breathless.
His forehead stays connected to yours, and he whispers, “I do, Y/n, love you. I have.”
You don’t feel the tears on your cheeks until he’s wiping them away.
“Oh, Y/n.”
“Did you know? That you did? Is that why…”
You trail off, hoping he’ll pick up on what you're asking, and he does.
“I didn’t at first, or I didn’t realize I was falling in love with you until it happened. I got scared, so I ran. I just never thought that you could feel the same or that I was hurting you. I didn’t realize that. I just thought I was doing what was best for us. I felt guilty for being in love with my best friend.”
“And Maeve?”
“I loved Maeve. I’ll always have love for her. I was trying to move on, and I thought I could eventually be with her and be around you without it hurting. I wish I would have told you this before.”
“You’re telling me now. That's enough.”
This time, it's you who pushes your lips to meet his. Your arms snake around his neck, and his fall to your waist. You follow when he pulls you into his apartment and closes the door. There is still pain on both sides, but you can feel it dissipating as you cling to each other. You’re just two broken people who have finally found a way to each other.
This kiss is different, hungrier. Neither of you pulls away for longer than a few seconds as you navigate your way from his entryway to his couch. Every touch is desperate like you're searching for something you never knew existed until now. His hands pull you closer and closer until he's pulling you on top of him, and each of your legs rests on opposite sides of his hips.
Your lips break from his for a moment, “What do you want, Spence?”
His reply is instant, “You.”
From there, things move faster. Your hands unbutton his shirt and push it from his shoulders while he undoes your pants. There are moments of awkwardness that come with exploring another for the first time, but it feels good. His hands trace over your hips and push further until you're left on top of him in only your underwear and bra. He takes you in like you are something to be marveled at, and you know your eyes reflect the same adoration.
You raise yourself off of him and work to get him in the same state of undress as you, and when you position yourself on top of him, you feel his length press against your center. The two thin layers of fabric do little to hinder the intensity as you rock into him. He lets out quiet moans at the action as his lips trace down your neck and over your collarbone.
His breath ghosts over you and makes you shiver when he asks, “Can I touch you?”
“Please.”
His hand moves between the two of you, and his fingers find your clit easily, rubbing circles over the fabric of your panties. You pant his name against his lips at the action. You feel like your whole body is lit up, and under any other circumstance, you'd feel embarrassed at how worked up you are, but you can’t seem to care.
After a few moments, he lifts you up and carries you to his bedroom. From there, he positions you below him on the bed, removing your remaining clothes in the same motion. The new setup lets you grip him, and he feels big in your hand. His fingers resume their previous assault before dipping down into you. You cry out at the feeling of him inside you, slowly pushing in and out, finding a spot that makes your legs start to shake. He’s relentless in his pursuit and all you can muster up the energy to say is his name.
“You’re so beautiful, Y/n.”
It's somewhere between a whimper and a whisper, but the sound of his voice causes you to clench around his fingers.
He picks up on this, of course he does, and quickens his pace as he coos at you.
“So pretty like this. I’m so lucky.”
You’re embarrassingly close already, so when he moves his thumb over your clit to rub circles as he fucks into you with his fingers, you come undone almost instantly with a warning and cry of his name. He works you through your orgasm, all while whispering praise in your ear. Once you come down from your high, you start to push his boxers down his legs, but he stops you before you can fully.
“We don’t have to do anything more, Y/n. I liked just making you feel good.”
“I want more. I want to feel you if you want that too.”
“Of course I do. I just don’t want you to regret anything.”
“I couldn’t regret this, Spencer. I love you. I want all of you.”
It's the first time you’ve actually said those three words to him, and it feels so fucking good to say.
“I love you, too. God, so much.”
With that, he positions himself back on top of you, running his fingers over your slit gently before gripping himself.
“Do you have a condom?”
“I might somewhere, but I have an IUD, and I’m clean. I can try to find one if you’re more comfortable with that?”
“IUDs have a failure rate of around .05% and are largely considered the most effective form of birth control, so uh, as long as you're okay with it, I am.”
You smile to yourself at his statistic but nod, “I want to feel you, Spencer.”
He returns your smile before rubbing his length over your entrance a few times and slowly pushing himself into you just slightly. He teases you, or maybe himself, for a moment before fully entering you. You push your hips up to meet his, and feeling him in his entirety makes your jaw fall open. He’s big, and you feel unbelievably full.
He waits a moment for you to adjust before he starts to develop a rhythm. His hands are everywhere, but his eyes are focused solely on your face like he doesn’t want to miss a moment of your reaction to him inside of you. To be fair, you are probably putting on a good show. Every movement he makes hits you in exactly the right spot, and you don’t think you could be louder if you tried. You can feel the leg he’s not holding up against his shoulder shake against the bed. Your first orgasm has made way for your second to be incredibly close.
“Spencer, please.”
You’re crying out, desperate for a little more to push you over the edge.
“What do you need, baby?” His voice is tight like he’s not far himself, and it sounds better than anything you’ve ever heard.
“Harder. Please, harder.”
He takes your direction immediately, rubbing circles on your clit with one hand while he thrusts into you with a bruising force. He’s fucking you like he wants you to remember the feeling long after he stops, and you know that you will. Everything about it is overwhelming: his smell, his pace, his eyes. You are covered in him, and he is covered in you.
After a moment, the hand he had on your stomach trails up to grasp lightly at your throat, and you fall into feeling. You can’t warn him that you're about to come before you do. The feeling is white hot. Bigger than your first, and the fact that you're coming on him sends you into overdrive. You can feel his hips falter for a moment, but you're lost in a daze, crying out his name.
He pumps into you a few more times before he follows suit. He pulls out, and you feel stripes of his come paint your cunt and lower stomach as he finishes with a moan of your name.
He falls next to you on the bed, and it takes you both a few moments to collect yourselves and catch your breath.
Once you do, the only thing you can think to say is, “I love you.”
It feels like those are the only words circling around in your head at the moment. Some mixture of his name and that declaration. While you know you each said it before, that your profession was the exigence of the sex you just had, it feels uniquely vulnerable to say now. It’s like the moment you just had together could have changed things or made him realize that he doesn’t actually love you after all.
That shoe doesn’t drop, though. Instead, you hear the three words echoed back to you by a man who, 6 hours ago, you thought would never, ever say them.
You turn to face him, and the love on his face feels like it could knock you out. He’s looking at you and smiling in a way you haven't seen in a long time.
“Will you let me clean you up?”
You know that part of the reason he’s asking has something to do with the likelihood of bacteria growth or something like that, but you think it's mainly that he wants to take care of you. Him wetting a rag and running it over you feels intimate in a different way, in an excruciatingly gentle way. Personal in a way that makes you feel like nothing between you could ever be wrong again, and maybe that's naive to think, but you feel hopeful regardless.
Once he finishes, he takes his space back next to you in the bed. This time, he pulls you into his arms, and it's different than it was all those months ago. This time, you know that he won’t push you away and that you won't hurt yourself by being next to him. This time, you just tuck yourself into him, and you let him whisper sweet nothings into your ear as you begin to drift off. This time, it feels like peace.
~
The following day, you wake up to Spencer still next to you, looking incredibly soft in the early morning light. You search for a moment to find your phone in the piles of clothes and are greeted with a text from Pen.
How did it go????
You smile before turning your phone off and climbing back into bed next to the man you love. It couldn’t have gone better.
-
all done! yay!!!
i hope you guys love it!! i’m not 100% happy with the ending but i’ve been writing this for so long and just needed to be done.
this is my first time writing angst on here and my longest fic, so PLEASE tell me what you think! all (nice) feedback is welcome and i love to hear from you guys!! :)
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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 1 month ago
Text
Eyes Only For You
Pairing: Lando Norris x reader
Warnings: a little bit of angst, fluff
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“Hey, baby” You say smiling walking into the kitchen greeting your boyfriend who you missed so much after a whole day filled with meetings.
Lando was free for another week before returning to the races, and you really had a lot of work to do the whole week. You had a lot of meetings and events to attend so you’ve been out of the house and even out of the town most of the time.
You hated it when Lando was free and you had a lot of work to do and couldn't take full advantage of his rare free time. And so when such days happen, you always rush home at the end of the day, eager to see him and cuddle him and just rest in his arms.
That's how you thought it would be this evening too, but as soon as you entered the room and saw that Lando didn't even turn to you when you greeted him, you immediately felt that something was up.
“Hi” He says apathetically looking for something in the fridge and not paying attention to the fact that you finally came home after being away all day.
He was angry. You read it right away. You could tell by his tone, but you decided to ignore it at first.
You walked up to him from the other side of the kitchen island and hugged him from behind while he was still standing in front of the fridge looking into it.
“Where is Mila?” You ask.
Oh, and you were also babysitting Mila for the night. His brother and sister in law and Mila were in town so you offered to watch her tonight so they could have some time to themselves and go on a date.
“She fell asleep in the living room a little while ago.” He said not engaging in further conversation.
“I missed you today” You say leaving a small kiss against his bare back.
“Yeah? How was your day?” He asks taking the salad dressing from the fridge and walking up to the kitchen island where his chicken salad was.
“It was..hectic.” You say looking at him. “Been waiting to come home to you.” You say softly trying to get anything out of him, but failing when he continues to be silent and ignore you focusing on making his salad.
“Lan? Is everything okay?” You finally ask.
“Well,” He sighs and somewhat aggressively throws the soiled fork into the kitchen sink making you wince slightly. “It was up until two hours ago when some pictures of you from the Boss Show in Milan emerged.”
“What pictures?” You ask confused, immediately going over the events of that day in Milan in your head.
He pulls his phone out of the pocket of his shorts, unlocks it and throws it in front of you on the surface of the kitchen island. “Care to explain?”
You stare at the picture on his cell phone of you and Michele Morrone and you immediately remember the situation you had with him that day that you were not even aware that someone had taken a picture of it and published it on the Internet.
In the picture, you were leaving the fashion show and he was grabbing your elbow. You met him for the first time that day and you talked about nothing more than the looks from the show, but it was quite obvious to you that he was indirectly hitting on you here and there. You grabbed his attention and he didn't spare you a few compliments, but at no point did you give him reason to think you were interested in him.
When you were leaving the fashion show, you didn't even know that he came out after you. He grabbed your elbow before you walked over to the waiting car and asked if he could have your number to which you replied that you have a boyfriend and that you’re in a happy relationship.
“Oh my God..” You sigh before explaining what exactly happened in the picture.
“Did you give him your number?” Lando asks even though you had said you didn’t.
“Of course I didn’t, Lando?” You say a bit offended that he even had to ask such a thing.
“Why didn't you tell me right away instead of me having to look at the pictures of my girlfriend with that fucking- porn actor?”
“I don’t ever tell you when things like that happen because I don’t care about that stuff and because I’m not interested in anyone but you!”
“What the fuck? What do you mean ‘when things like that happen’? Do guys hit on you a lot?”
“Lando..please” You were already getting exhausted from this kind of conversation. You considered it so unimportant that you almost forgot it happened, but you could understand why Lando was upset about it.
“No, tell me, y/n!”
“Yes, guys do hit on me, but I never ever respond to any of that in any kind of way whatsoever!”
“Oh, that’s really nice. Very comforting.” He says sarcastically.
“What? Am I so unattractive that it comes as such a surprise to you?”
“No, fuck..of course not. I just-“ He sighs running his hands through his hair. “I just thought everyone knew you were mine..”
“Lando, as long as I know that I’m yours, it doesn’t matter what other guys think or try to do. And I can’t believe that you would even think that I was doing something behind your back. I can’t believe you don’t trust me, Lando?” It hurt you because you never gave him a reason to doubt you. Your relationship was pure and full of love for each other. Topics like this have never even been in the conversation.
He deeply sighs again and steps closer to you cupping your face making you look up at him. “It’s not you that I don’t trust, it’s others. I don’t want someone to steal you from me. I’m sorry”
“That could never happen.” You say looking up at him.
He pulls your face closer to his wanting to kiss you, but you move your head to the left avoiding the kiss.
“I’m going to change. I’m tired.” You move away from him and go to your shared bedroom.
Your mood was no longer up to par and you weren't as happy and excited as you were half an hour ago and you blamed Lando for that. On the one hand, you understood him, but on the other hand, you couldn't believe that he doubted you even for a slight moment.
It especially hurt you because you knew that girls are hitting on him every chance they get and that they obsess over him all the time not caring in the slightest that he has a girlfriend and yet you never showed him it bothered you because you know he only has eyes for you.
You took a quick shower and changed into more comfortable clothes. Although you were still sad about the things that went down with Lando, you wanted to see Mila and hang out with her in case she woke up because it was only 7 p.m. so you headed to the living room shortly after taking the shower.
You knew she was awake when you approached the living room and heard Lando and her chatting about the Minions that Lando had turned on on the TV. It was more of Lando's favorite cartoon than Mila’s honestly. You walked over closer and saw Lando
Lando was lying on the couch and Mila was lying next to him with her head resting on his chest while his arm was wrapped around her. The sight melted your heart. You loved their relationship. You loved seeing him spend time with her and bond and you loved the way she loved him.
“Auntie!!” Mila exclaimed when she saw you.
“Hey, cutie” You smiled at her sitting on the couch next to Lando and giving her a hug. “Are you guys watching the Minions?”
“Yess!!” She said excitedly.
“Wanna join us?” Lando asked, his eyes pleading for you to say yes.
You nodded your head bringing a huge smile to Lando's face. He opened his free arm for you so you can cuddle up to him. When you laid your head against his chest as well as Mila, he tightly wrapped his arm around you and kissed your head quietly whispering “I’m sorry”
You just looked up at him and kissed his chin without saying a word.
Halfway through the movie, Mila slowly began to fall asleep again. Lando was gently rubbing her back the whole time and when he would stop for a moment she would startle and say "Lala, more" so Lando had to continue until she fell asleep and you just found his gesture so adorable.
“I can't wait to see you like this with our own baby.” You said softly.
“What? Are you-?”
“I’m not pregnant, Lan” You chuckled. “I’m just saying, one day I hope.”
“You want babies with me?” He asked his fingers playing with your hair and looking into your eyes as you lifted your gaze up.
“Of course I do. I think about it often.” You admit that every now and then you find yourself daydreaming about your perfect little family and it makes you so excited about the future.
“Yeah? I do too, baby. I dream of holding you both just like this, waking up next to you, taking care of you.” He says pressing a kiss on your forehead. “Should we make it a reality soon?”
“I think we should, Lan”
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iamred-iamyellow · 2 months ago
Text
⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ Game Set Match
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♥ masterlist | request rules
♥ pairing: oscar piastri x olympic!tennisplayer!reader
♥ synopsis: with the help of carlos sainz and your brother carlos alcaraz, you were able to score a date with your favorite f1 driver
♥ smau - fc: women on pinterest - as always none of the pictures are mine <3
♥ warnings: swearing !!!
♥ a/n: here's some super late olympic fics
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-July 28 2024-
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liked by carlossainz55, carlitosalcarazz, arynasabalenka, and 406,271 more
ynalcaraz photo dump
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user7 the f1 in the second pic is so real
carlitosalcarazz she’s obsessed with that one mclaren driver
carlossainz55 @/carlitosalcarazz LANDO?!
carlitosalcarazz no the other one
carlossainz55 oh oscar
user1 PLS 😭
user2 THE DIFFERENCE LMAO
user4 new carcar lore
user10 y/n is just like me fr fr
user3 carlos sainz and the alcaraz siblings being friends was not on my 2024 bingo card
user8 I <3 them
user11 the collab we in fact knew we needed
user12 not carlos casually telling the whole world that y/n has a crush on oscar
user6 the fact that we got an oscar p2 today too
user5 SO hyped to see the both of them at the olympics
uer13 same !!!
✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧
-left: your phone- -right: carlos a's phone-
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✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧
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liked by carlitosalcarazz, landonorris, ynalcaraz and 294,923 more
f1gossip Oscar Piastri taking promotional pictures in Paris in time for the 2024 Olympics
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user1 y/n is shaking in her boots rn
user2 miss rabbit has fainted
user7 NAH HE SAW THE POSTS
user6 was he invited by a certain someone
ynalcaraz @/carlitosalcarazz YOU DIDN'T.
carlitosalcarazz I did
ynalcaraz blocked.
carlossainz55 I was expecting a thank you
ynalcaraz stop roping other carlos into this 😩
carlossainz55 you call me other carlos?
landonorris 🤣🫵
user3 ynoscar crumbs
✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧
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liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, lewishamilton, and 593,502 more
oscarpiastri thanks for inviting me @/carlitosalcarazz and congrats on yours and @/ynalcaraz’s gold 🥇
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ynalcaraz @/carlitosalcarazz i fucking knew it
ynalcaraz anyway thanks tho osc 🥰
user1 the nickname.
carlitosalcarazz great to see you again
landonorris me wondering where my invite was
oscarpiastri me wondering where I asked
user12 PLSS
user14 the girls are fighting
landonorris its all good fun
user7 my pookies met
user3 the second picture is going down in sports history tbh
user5 congrats to them !!!
user6 am I fucking crazy or did he get those roses for y/n
user11 you're crazy
user8 @/user11 NAH NAH let them cook
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, lilymhe, and 1,492,753 more
oscarpiastri de nada
user6 I HATE ❌ TO SAY 🗣️ I TOLD YOU 🫵 SO
user2 AHHH
user4 the fact he got her flowers...
user3 just get married already
user10 I love them
user7 I'm so proud of her for winning gold today !!!
✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧
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✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, alex_albon, and 1,489,475 more
mclaren life rn
view comments
ynalcaraz why that picture of me 😕
mclaren sorry yn!!
ynalcaraz you’re forgiven admin 😚🫶
user1 THE FACT THAT LANDO AND OSCAR WERE FLIRTING WITH HER THE WHOLE VIDEO 💀
user2 it's mr steal your girl
user9 why was oscar actually so good tho
ynalcaraz he should sign up for aussie's team
user10 @/ynalcaraz I think he was trying to impress you
lilymhe golf next
ynalcaraz i second that
user8 @/mclaren admin were you the ballboy? 😭
mclaren I was and I'm proud
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liked by charles_leclerc, user7, user1, and 394,473 more
ynalcaraz can someone tell @/carlossainz55 to stay out of my love life
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carlossainz55 I'm the one who got you the date ???
carlitosalcarazz I did all the heavy lifting
user1 c2 but not in the way you think
user7 @/user1 carlos got y/n in the charlos divorce
user3 I'd recognize those shorts anywhere lol
user4 bro made it SOOO obvious that it was him
user8 oscar we know its you open up
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liked by oscarpiastri, carlossainz55, carlitosalcarazz, and 1,147,329
ynalcaraz "thank you carlos" we all say in unison
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carlossainz55 you're welcome.
carlitosalcaraz it was about time
oscarpiastri I love you carino
ynalcaraz I love you too <3
lilymhe you and oscar too cute
ynalcaraz 🥹🫶
user3 thank you carlos
user1 thank you carlos
oscarpiastri thank you carlos 🫡
✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧
end notes: hi loves <3 I know this was a short fic but I hope you still enjoyed it! I'll hopefully be releasing some longer ones soon but I've been pretty busy recently.
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dreamescapeswriting · 3 months ago
Text
Stray Kids Reaction || You Find Out You're A Bet
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⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - August 2024
⤜MASTERLIST
A/n: before i get messaged about letting them “walk all over the reader” in order for it to have a fluffy ending there needs to be some give and take. 
CHAN:
You weren't even sure why you were at the party in the first place, Chan told you it was just going to be for ten minutes but you'd been wandering around for almost an hour completely alone now. Pulling out your phone, you were contemplating calling a cab when you heard faint voices approaching you in the garden. Curious, you stay hidden behind the tall bushes, not wanting to intrude but unable to move away from them. The voices become clearer, and you recognize them immediately—Minho and Hyunjin, two of Bang Chan's closest friends. Hyunjin was even in your art class.
"I can't believe Chan actually agreed to that bet," Hyunjin says, his tone filled with disbelief. Minho chuckles a little and shakes his head, he never would have expected it to have happened.
"Yeah, who would've thought? But he's pulling it off. YN doesn't suspect a thing." Your heart stops. The blood in your veins turns to ice as you strain to hear more, hoping against hope that you've misunderstood what they were saying. Your stomach felt as though it was going to drop out of your ass.
"Do you think he'll actually go through with it?" Hyunjin asks, looking at Minho with an uneasy look on his face. Chan wasn't known to be mean or malicious and maybe it wasn't a malicious thing they'd set him up to do...In fact, their friend seemed happy around you.
"I don't know. He seemed pretty determined to prove us wrong. But you know how Chan is—always needing to be the best at everything." Minho laughed softly and you felt like the ground had opened up beneath you. A bet. To get with you. Your vision blurs as tears sting your eyes. You can't stand to hear anymore. You step back, accidentally snapping a twig underfoot. The sound is loud in the stillness, and you curse under your breath.
"Did you hear that?" Hyunjin says, and you know you need to leave. Now.
Without thinking, you turn and run, the party forgotten, your heart shattered. You just ran and ran until you found yourself back at your dorms.
How could he? You trusted him. You liked him. You thought he liked you too. The memories of your time together, the laughter, the stolen glances, all feel like cruel jokes now. It wasn't as though it was just a few dates, it was three whole fucking months!
You didn't know how long you'd been sitting in your dorm, wrapped in your misery, but eventually, you heard footsteps approaching before your door opened, you hated that you'd given him a key. You look up to see Bang Chan, his face etched with worry and desperation.
"YN," he calls out softly, hesitating a few feet away as if he's afraid you'll run again, the boys told him what happened and he instantly needed to find you.
"Please, let me explain." You shake your head, standing up, your stomach flipping as you try to speak without crying. You didn't want to give him that satisfaction.
"There's nothing to explain, Chan. I heard everything. It was all a bet to you. Yn, the big fucking joke," Your voice cracked at the end and Chan took a step closer, his eyes pleading with yours as he shakes his head at you.
"No, it wasn't. It started that way, yes, but it's not like that anymore. I swear." His own voice broke this time as he reached out to take your hands but you snatched them away from his reach.
"How am I supposed to believe you?" you ask, your voice breaking as tears streamed down your cheeks.
"Everything feels like a lie now." You breathed out. This time Chan closes the distance between you, his hands trembling as he reaches out to touch your arm.
"Because I fell for you, YN. For real. Somewhere along the way, the bet stopped mattering. You became the only thing that mattered." You search his eyes, looking for any sign of deceit, but all you see is the sincerity and pain he'd caused you. You want to believe him, but your heart is still raw, you didn't want him to be able to walk right over you but you'd fallen for him too.
"Give me a chance to make it right," he pleads, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I'll do whatever it takes to prove to you that this is real...That how I feel about you isn't some kind of joke and I'm utterly in love with you. I can't lose you over a stupid mistake." You hesitate, the battle between your heart and mind raging on, your mind screaming at you not to be stupid but your heart is beating it, fighting it tooth and nail to get him back.
Finally, you take a shaky breath look at him and nod your head.
"One chance, Chan. But if you hurt me again, we're done." Your voice came out stern as you told him, there was no way you were going to let him take advantage of you in any way. Relief practically washed over his face as he nodded,
"I promise, I won't." Chan looked at you for confirmation before stepping closer, wrapping you in a gentle hug. You whimpered a little before letting yourself melt into him, feeling the warmth and steadiness of his heartbeat against your cheek. It doesn't erase the pain not even close, but it's a start and Chan was going to prove to you every single day how much you meant to him. More than some ever silly bet.
As he holds you, whispering apologies and reassurances, you just close your eyes, enjoying the closeness between you both
MINHO:
Tonight was your birthday party, kind of. You were sharing it with a couple of other people from your class in University and Minho had thrown it for you. It was also to celebrate your anniversary with one another. 
"I'll be right back." You whisper to Minho, quickly kissing his cheek and going to get you both a drink from the kitchen but as you walk you feel someone watching you and it doesn't take long until, Seungmin approaches you, with a look of irritation on his face. 
"Hey, YN, can we talk for a minute?" He grumbles a little and you frown. You and Seungmin had only ever talked in passing whenever you were with Minho and he happened to be around. The two of you weren't the chatting type...with each other at least. You nod, curious about what he had to say to you alone. Without another word, he leads you to a quieter corner of the garden, away from the noise of the party.
"What's up?" you ask, trying to read his expression but it was blank, almost as if he didn't want to give anything away to you. Seungmin crosses his arms, clearly agitated by something.
"Look, you deserve to know something. Minho didn't start dating you because he liked you. It was a bet. He wanted to prove he could make anyone fall for him." The words were so cold coming from his lips and your heart stopped, the words hitting you like a punch to the gut as you shook your head.
"What are you talking about?" He sighs, running a hand through his hair clearly not in the mood for this anymore. 
"It was just a stupid bet between him and the guys. But now, he’s acting all lovey-dovey, and it's like he actually fell for you. It's annoying." Did he sound annoyed at you for it? As if it was your fault, HIS friend had fallen in love.
You feel a wave of emotions crash over you—hurt, anger, disbelief, everything hitting you all at once. Why the fuck he was telling you this now was beyond you.
"Why are you telling me this?" You snap at him,
"Because it's ridiculous," Seungmin says, his tone sharp. 
"He was supposed to prove a point, not fall in love. It's pathetic." he looked you up and down in disgust and you pulled your arms around your body, trying to shield yourself as if his words were actually hitting you physically. You don't bother to wait to hear more you march back into the party, searching for Minho. You find him laughing with some friends, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside you. You grab his arm and pull him aside, the anger bubbling up to the surface.
"YN, what's wrong?" he asks, concern flashing in his eyes, his hands holding onto you as you shake your head. Taking in a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady you stared at him. 
"Is it true?" You didn't say anything else and Minho frowned,
"Is what true, baby?" He reached out to touch your face but you moved away from him, glaring at him.
"Did you start dating me because of a bet?" His face pales, and you see the guilt written all over it, his stomach twisting itself into knots.
"Who told you that?" He whispered, not even denying the claim.
"So, it is true," you say, your voice breaking as tears spilt down your cheeks. 
"I can't believe you, Minho. I thought you cared about me." You grumbled, shoving against his shoulders but he didn't even move, he just stayed in place.
"I do care about you," he says desperately, reaching for your hand but you yanked it away from him. 
"It started as a bet, yes, but that changed. I changed. I fell for you, YN. For real. This is fucking real!" He yells at you as he reaches for you once again. But his betrayal was cutting you deep.
"How am I supposed to believe that? How am I supposed to trust you?! This whole time, was any of it real?" You were sobbing by now and people were starting to stare but you didn't care. He steps closer to you, his eyes pleading. 
"Yes, it was real. Every moment we spent together, every laugh, every kiss—it was real. I know I messed up, but please, give me a chance to make it right." His voice was soft as he begged you to let him prove himself to you. You stare into his eyes, searching for the truth, you always thought you could read him easily but now you weren't even sure. 
The hurt is still raw, but beneath it, you see the sincerity and regret written all over his face. 
"How can I trust you again, Minho?" Your voice came out weak and when he reached to take your hand in his, you let him. He stared at you as he smiled, holding your hands tightly.
"I'll do whatever it takes to prove to you that I'm serious. I love you, YN. I was an idiot to ever make that bet, but I swear, you mean everything to me now." He whispers, one of his hands reaching up and cupping your face in his hands, stroking your cheek gently with his thumb. You want to believe him, but the pain is still fresh in your mind. 
"It's going to take time, Minho. I can't just forget about this." You gestured between you but he nodded, laying his forehead against yours,
"I understand," he says softly. 
"I'll wait as long as it takes. Just don't walk away from us...Please" You take a deep breath, the anger starting to ebb away, leaving behind a fragile hope that this would work between you, that there was a future here.
"Okay. But you have to be honest with me. No more lies." He nods, relief flooding his features as he practically yanks you into his chest.
"No more lies. I promise."
CHANGBIN:
Sitting in the middle of your history lecture, you find it increasingly difficult to focus, your new professor had a one-tone voice and you could feel yourself drifting off the longer he spoke. Sighing a little to yourself you reached into your bag for your phone. It had been buzzing non-stop for the last twenty minutes and you wanted to see what was happening. As you pulled it out a flurry of notifications began lighting up the screen. When the professor turns to write on the board, you sneak a glance at your phone, trying to figure out what was happening so much that needed this much attention on the matter.
Your heart sinks as you see a string of messages and missed calls from friends. One message catches your eye: a screenshot from an unknown number. You glanced up to make sure the professor was still busy and you caught the look of some of the girls in your class who were looking at you with pity, smiling weakly as they turned away from you.
Frowning you turned back to your phone to open the message, and your stomach dropped. The screenshot shows a group chat where Changbin discusses a bet with his friends—apparently to prove he could make you fall for him. The date on the message is from several months ago, shortly before you started dating.
Your heart races and a wave of nausea washes over you, your skin starting to sweat as you panicked more and more. You feel eyes on you as you hastily gather your things and leave the classroom, needing to get away from the prying gazes and the oppressive silence. The professor called for you but you didn't even give him a glance as you legged it down the hallway, trying to get away. It felt like all eyes were on you.
As soon as you are alone outside of Changbin's dorm, you dial Changbin's number with trembling fingers. He answers on the second ring, his voice bright and cheerful.
"Hey, baby! What's up?" What's up?! How could he even be so fucking calm about this?
"We need to talk. Now," you say, struggling to keep your voice steady. Maybe he didn't know that the photos were going "viral" around the college yet.
"Sure, where are you? I'll come to you." You could hear him moving to get his keys but you sniffled a little.
"I'm outside your dorm," you reply before hanging up, not giving him a chance to say anything else to you.
You pace back and forth, the minutes stretching out painfully. Finally, you see Changbin approaching, a concerned look on his face.
"YN, what's wrong? You look-" You hold up your phone, cutting him off midsentence, showing him the screenshot. "
What is this, Changbin? Did you make a bet about dating me?" You couldn't stop the hurt in your voice as you stared at him. Waiting for him to deny it, to say it was fake. Anything. Just to tell you that the two of you were real despite what that fucking thing said. His eyes widen, and you see the colour drain from his face.
"YN, I can explain—" You cut him off, your voice shaking with anger and hurt.
"Explain what? That our entire relationship is based on a bet? That I've been nothing but a game to you? That I'm the biggest fucking joke to you?!" You cry softly,
"That nothing between us was ever fucking real?" You finish as he shakes his head at you,
"No, it wasn't like that," he says, his voice desperate as he reaches for you.
"It started as a stupid bet, but I swear, I fell for you. For real. You're not a game to me, what I feel for you isn't a game...It isn't fake..."
"Am I supposed to get on my knees and thank you for it? I-I'm not some kind of fucking joke!" You yell at him, gaining the attention of passersby but you didn't give a shit.
"How am I supposed to believe that?" you snap, tears welling up in your eyes. "Everything feels like a lie now." He takes a step closer, his hands reaching out to you as you let him touch you.
"Please, YN, you have to believe me. I was an idiot, and I made a mistake, but my feelings for you are real. I love you." It was the first time he'd ever said those three words to you and yet it felt like a slap to the face rather than something you'd been dying to hear from him.
You turn away, trying to collect your thoughts. The pain is overwhelming, but so is the look of sincerity in his eyes, you hated him and yet you loved him all at the same time.
"Do you have any idea how humiliating this is? Everyone saw that screenshot. Everyone knows...People in class were staring at me, looking at me with pity!" You swallowed the lump in your throat as you shook your head,
"I know, and I'm so sorry," he says softly. "I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you. I'll tell everyone the truth. I'll make sure they know how much I care about you, how real this is between us." You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart.
"This isn't just about everyone else. You broke my trust and my heart, Changbin. I don't know if I can get past that." He looks at you, his eyes filled with regret as he realises just how badly he'd fucked this up between the two of you.
"I understand. But please, give me a chance to prove myself. Let me show you that what we have is real." But you just left him standing there, giving yourself space to think.
Eventually, you went back to him, deciding you wanted to try and make things work between you and it had taken months of hard work from him for you to finally trust him again.
HYUNJIN:
The wedding reception is in full swing, the joyous atmosphere filling the beautifully decorated hall. You smile as you watch your friends and family celebrating with each other, your gaze wandering over to your husband now who was talking to a few of his friends. Your wedding day has been everything you dreamed of and more, it was everything you'd ever wanted since you were a little girl.
As you move through the crowd, accepting congratulations and well-wishes, you overhear a conversation that stops you in your tracks, your hand resting on the lower back of someone who congratulated you but your mind is on the conversation. 
"I can't believe it all started as a bet. Who would've thought he'd actually fall in love with her and have a wedding like this?" Your heart skipped a beat, and it felt as though someone had just doused you in freezing cold water. You step closer, trying to catch more of the conversation without drawing attention to yourself.
"Yeah, remember how smug he was about it? But now look at him, married and everything," Seungmin laughs and you suddenly feel like the ground has been pulled out from under you. Your wedding day, the happiest day of your life, suddenly feels like a cruel joke between everyone there. Did everyone know it was a bet? How could he have not said anything to you? The two of you had been together for nine years now and he hadn't thought it bring it up once? 
You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart, and decide you need to confront Hyunjin. Now.
As soon as you'd found him you dragged him away from listening ears and walked toward the toilets, shutting the door and ignoring the wolf-whistles from people who had seen the interaction. You bolted the door shut and Hyunjin smirked,
"Couldn't wait for the wedding night, baby?" He teases, stopping when you turn around to face him.
"Hey, what's up?" he asks, noticing the serious look on your face. He was ready to kill whoever had made you this pissed off on your wedding day of all days.
"We need to talk. Now," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. Where were you even supposed to start with this? 
"Hyunjin, is it true? Did our relationship start as a bet?" you ask, your voice shaking as you stare at him. The expression on his face was all you needed for him to confirm it was real. His eyes widened in shock, and you see the guilt flash across his face. 
"YN, I can explain—"
"All this time, everything we built, started as a stupid bet?" You whispered, almost as if you were scared someone was going to be listening outside.
"Yes, it started as a bet," he admits, his voice filled with regret. "But it changed, YN. I changed. We've been together for nine years! You think I'd marry you for some cruel joke?" He steps toward you but you take a step back, feeling betrayed.
  "How could you not tell me? How could you let me marry you without knowing the truth?" You stared at him. As if your vows hadn't included that you'd never lie or hide something from one another.
"I was scared," he says softly. "Scared of losing you, scared that you wouldn't believe me if I told you. But my feelings for you are real. They have been for a long time, nine years baby I'd...I can't be without you." Tears fill your eyes as you struggle to process his words.
"How am I supposed to trust you now, Hyunjin? On our wedding day, of all days? You could have told me nine fucking years ago and I would...I would have had time to"
"I know," He whispers, his eyes boring into yours as he shakes his head.
"I know I fucked up. I should have told you a long time ago. But I love you, YN. I love you more than anything. Please, give me a chance to prove that to you. I meant every single thing in my vows...This isn't a joke to me," You needed to believe him and you did. Nine years was a long time for a bet and you knew it was real now but it didn't stop the hurt you were feeling right now. 
"I don't know if I can just forget about this, Hyunjin. It hurts too much." You cry softly and he reaches out, wiping away the tears with a tissue trying not to ruin the makeup you were wearing.
"I understand," he says, his voice breaking. "But please, don't let this ruin what we have. We've built a life together, a future. Don't let a mistake I made years ago take that away from us." You take a deep breath, the anger and hurt slowly giving way to the love you still feel for him. 
"It's going to take time, Hyunjin. I can't just move past this overnight."
"I know," he says, relief flooding his features, holding you in his arms as he whispers. "I'll do whatever it takes to earn your trust back. I promise." He rocks you back and forth slightly as he kisses the top of your head.
JISUNG:
The night was going amazing, you and Jisung were at your favourite restaurant, a cosy little place with dim lighting and soft music playing in the background. He told you he wanted to take you back to where your relationship started years ago, in the restaurant where you'd had your first date. He's been acting a bit nervous all night, and you have a feeling something big is about to happen, he'd made sure to let you know to get your nails done too...Jisung wasn't always the secretive guy he pretended to be.
"yn," He smiled as he reached over the table and took your hand. He looks into your eyes, a mixture of love and anxiety in his gaze, slowly he slides out from his chair and drops on one knee in front of you. Your heart racing as you giggled. 
"I have spent every single day loving you for the last four years and I wanted to spend every single day for the rest of our lives doing it the same," He tells you. But just as he starts to speak again, you hear a familiar voice from a nearby table.
"Hey, isn't that Jisung and YN?" You glance over to see Changbin who is staring at you both and you look back at Jisung trying to focus on the proposal but the following words make your heart drop.
"Remember how she was just a bet years ago? And now look, she's about to be his future wife!" His voice was full of amusement and your heart stopped. The words cut through the romantic atmosphere like a knife. You pull your hand away from Jisung's and turn to face Changbin, the shock and hurt evident on your face.
"What?" You whispered, staring at Changbin and then to Jisung who looked panicked as he shook his head. 
"YN, please, let me explain."
You stand up, your emotions boiling over as you knock into the table and knock the glass of wine shattering to the floor gaining more attention to you both. 
"Explain what, Jisung? That our entire relationship started as a joke? That I was nothing but a bet to you?" You shake your head, trying to get away but he reaches out to you, desperation in his eyes. 
"It wasn't like that...O-okay...Yes, it started as a stupid bet, but that was years ago!" You shake your head, tears starting to blur your vision, and people are staring at you both. 
"How could you not tell me? How could you keep this from me all these years?" You whispered at him as he shook his head. His friends told him to tell you years ago when he started falling for you but he thought he could hide it. That if you never found out the way it started it wouldn't matter because you loved each other.
"I was terrified," he admits, his voice breaking as he shook his head. 
"Scared of losing you, terrified you'd never forgive me. But I love you, YN. More than anything." The betrayal felt like a weight on your chest, suffocating you as you shook your head. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. 
"I need some air." You whispered and walked away. 
You walked and walked until you stopped at a park, holding your arms around yourself and crying softly. It didn't take Jisung to catch up to you, calling your name, but you didn't look at him as your shoulders began shaking with silent sobs.
"YN, please. I never meant to hurt you. The bet was a mistake, a stupid, immature mistake. But my love for you is real. It always has been and it always...will be, baby." You turn to face him, the pain and anger still raw as you stare at him. 
"How am I supposed to believe that, Jisung? After everything?" He knew it wasn't going to be something quick he could move past but he was never going to stop until he proved to you how true this was.
"Because I’ve spent every day since then trying to be the best man I can be for you. Because I can’t imagine my life without you. I was going to propose to you tonight because I want to spend the rest of my life proving to you how much I love you." You stared into his eyes, trying to decide if this was real or just some extension of the bet but he stared at you, his hurt and guilt clear on his face.
"You broke the trust between us...Everything feels like a lie now." You whisper, allowing yourself to hold onto him as he rubs your back softly,
"This isn't how I wanted this night to go...I fucked this all up, and I will do fucking anything to make you realise that what I feel is real..."
You take a deep breath, the anger and hurt slowly giving way to the love you still feel for him, you wanted your life with him. Your life with him was everything you'd been dreaming of. 
"This...This isn't some part of the bet?" You gestured at the box in his hand and he shook his head,
"Never...Ever," He whispered as he looked at you, you nodded and he slowly knelt back down in front of you.
"I will spend every single day making this up to you if you agree to be my wife. I will spend every day, bringing you flowers, making you songs...doing whatever it takes to prove it's real...Will you-" You kissed him before he could even finish asking you and he whined.
"I-Is that a yes?" He panted as you pulled back from one another, you slowly nodded at him.
FELIX:
You and Felix are sitting in your favourite coffee shop, the one where you’ve shared many dates with each other when you started dating a few months back but something felt strange today. Felix seemed different than his usual self around you today and it was starting to worry you a little bit. He was being quieter, and more jittery than normal. You sip your coffee, waiting for him to speak, thinking he would come to you when he was good and ready.
Finally, he takes a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours but there is guilt and fear written all across his face as he stares at you,
“YN, there’s something I need to tell you.” You set your cup down, your heart beginning to race. Was he going to break up with you? Is that was this was?
“What is it, Lix?” You reached your hands over the table to touch him but he pulled his hands away and looked away from you for a moment, gathering his thoughts. The boys had warned him not to do this, that it wouldn't be good to ruin what you had but he no longer wanted to lie about why your relationship had started. When he spoke, his voice was shaky.
“Our relationship... it didn’t start the way you think it did..." He coughed a little as he cleared his throat,
"It started as a bet.” The words rushed out but you heard every single one of them as your heart sank to the pit of your stomach,
“A bet? What do you mean?” He winces at the hurt in your voice, he'd been trying to brace himself for this for a few weeks now but he hadn't done it enough.
“It was stupid and immature. Some of the guys bet that I couldn’t get you to go on a date with me. At first, it was just about proving them wrong. But YN, it didn’t stay that way. I’ve fallen for you, really fallen for you. That’s why I have to be honest with you now. I couldn't keep lying about why all of this had started.” One minute you'd been so in love with him and now it felt as though someone had ripped the floor out from under you,
“So, this whole time, I was just a game to you?” You whispered, shaking your head at him.
“No,” he says quickly, reaching for your hand again.
“You were never just a game. I know it started that way, but it changed. You changed me. When we went on that first date I knew I was going to fall for you and I made them stop the whole thing. I didn't take their money...” You pull your hand away, standing up trying to get out of the cafe without drawing too much attention to you both.
“How am I supposed to believe that, Felix? How can I trust anything you’ve said?” He stands too in a rush, knocking his cup over but neither of you moves, his eyes stare into yours, pleading with you.
“Because I’m telling you the truth now. I was scared to lose you, but I realized that if I kept this from you, it would be worse. I couldn’t keep lying to you. I love you, YN. That’s real. What I feel for you? It's so real.”
Tears blur your vision as you shake your head, the betrayal cutting deep inside of you as you shook your head, this all felt like a big joke.
“You should have told me sooner. You should have given me the choice...”
“I know,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “I’m so sorry. I’ll do what I can to make this right. Please, don’t walk away from us.” You look at him and bite your lip,
“I need time, Felix. This hurts too much.” You whispered as he nodded at you, watching you walk away from him.
One evening, as you sat alone in your dorm, there was a small knock on the door. Slowly you got up to open it and find Felix standing there, looking vulnerable and hopeful. There was a huge bouquet of flowers, not that you needed any more of them. There were already twenty of them sitting all around your apartment.
“YN, can we talk?” he asks softly. Slowly you stepped aside and let him into the apartment and he sat down watching you closely.
“I’ve been thinking a lot,” you say finally. “About us, about everything. I still don’t know if I can fully trust you, but I also know that I love you. I miss you.” Your voice cracked as he jumped up, rushing to your side and took your hand gently.
“I miss you too. I know I messed up, and I’ll spend every day proving to you that my love is real. No more secrets, no more lies.” You told him as you looked into his eyes, searching for the truth. All you see is sincerity and regret.
“It’s going to take time, Felix. A lot of time.” He nodded at you, kissing your hand softly,
“I understand,” he says, his grip on your hand tightening. “I’ll be here, every step of the way. I love you, YN. More than anything.”
SEUNGMIN:
It was a quiet and very lazy Sunday afternoon, and you’re curled up on the couch with Seungmin. He’s napping beside you, his head resting on your shoulder, and you’re idly scrolling through his phone, looking for the photos he'd taken of you both last week when you went to the animal sanctuary, you wanted to send them to your mum since she was always asking for photos. As you swipe through his videos, one catches your eye: a familiar group of friends, with Seungmin front and centre.
Curiosity piqued, and you tap on the video wondering what it could have been. The two of you had no secrets from one another, or so you'd thought.
The laughter and rowdy voices of Seungmin and his friends fill the room in the video. You recognize the setting instantly—it’s from a few months ago, just before you and Seungmin started dating. You knew that because it was the same outfit Seungmin had asked you out in, something you'd memorised.
"Alright, boys, here are the rules," Seungmin's voice booms from the video as people cheered around him, you frowned a little.
"The first one to get YN to fall for them wins. No cheating, and you have to actually date her for at least three months. Loser buys drinks for a year." You stared at the screen as if you wished it was some kind of nightmare you were having. But as you realise it was real your heart drops. The phone feels like it’s burning your hand, and you quickly pause the video. Seungmin stirs beside you, his eyes fluttering open.
“Hey, what are you watching?” he asks groggily, yawning a little before you scoff at him.
“Oh you know, just a cute little video of my boyfriend saying I'm a fucking bet,” you spit at him, showing him the screen and restarting to video all over again. His eyes widen in horror as he realizes what you’ve seen.
“YN, listen...I can explain.” He pleaded but you were already standing up, throwing his phone down onto the sofa beside him and trying to gather your shit.
“So, I was just a bet to you? Some kind of game? How long were you going to keep it going?” You laughed dryly. The video said three months but the two of you had been together for almost ten months now. Seungmin scrambles to sit up, panic clear on his face.
“No, it’s not like that. It started as a bet, yes, but that was before I really got to know you. I swear, my feelings for you are real.”
“How am I supposed to believe that? Huh? You sat there and you-” You barely got the words out, tears welling up in your eyes.
“You made me fall for you because of a stupid bet. I thought we had something real, Seungmin.” You grab your things, throwing them into a bag as he follows you around his apartment, blocking you from going into the bedroom,
“We do! We do have something real, baby! This is real!” he insists, standing and reaching out to you, but you move away from his touch and shake your head at him.
“I was an idiot, okay? It was juvenile and wrong, and I regret it every day. But YN, I fell for you. Truly. That’s why I need to be honest with you now.” You step back, the pain of betrayal cutting you like a knife and you shake your head.
"Send me the rest of my shit," You snap before storming out of his apartment and going home.
[X]
It had been a month, a month of pure torture every time you realised you still loved Seungmin despite him lying to you and hiding something huge from you and yet you missed him. Every single day you would get a new delivery of flowers or a teddy bear with a card that explained a reason why Seungmin had fallen in love with you and he was making it incredibly difficult to hate him.
"Seungmin," You breathed finding him at your door one more.
“I’m standing here, telling you the truth...okay,” he says, tears now in his eyes as he looks at you.
“I’m risking everything because I can’t lose you. I love you, and I’ll spend the rest of my life making this up to you if you’ll let me.”
You look into his eyes, searching for any sign of deceit and you can see how much he regretted doing this to you.
“It’s going to take time, Seungmin. I can’t just forget about this overnight...But I miss-" You barely had time to finish before he threw himself into your arms and hugged you tightly against him.
JEONGIN:
You’re having dinner at Jeongin’s family home, enjoying a relaxed evening with his parents and younger brother. They'd invited you over since you were Jeongin's first-ever real girlfriend and they wanted to meet the girl who had stolen his heart. The atmosphere is warm and lively, and it felt so easy to fit in with their banter. You feel completely at ease, having grown close to Jeongin's family over the months you’ve been dating. It would have been a year next month.
As you help clear the table after dinner, his younger brother suddenly speaks up,  
“Hey, YN, what did you and Jeongin do with the money?”
"What money?" You laughed softly wondering what he was talking about, behind you Jeongin had paled dramatically.
"From the bet...The one he made to ask you out." his tone was so casual but his words were like a dagger to your heart.
The room falls silent. You freeze, the plates in your hands feeling like they weigh a ton and it took everything inside of you not to drop them on the floor. Slowly you turn to look at Jeongin, who is pale and wide-eyed, clearly caught off guard by the fact that his brother had bought it up.
“What's he talking about?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
Jeongin's baby bother, oblivious to the tension he’s caused, continues,
“Yeah, Jeongin and his friends bet that he couldn’t get you to go to some party with him. It was just a joke, but I guess it worked out between you both, right?” You feel like the ground has collapsed beneath you. The warmth and comfort of the evening vanished, replaced by a cold, hard betrayal. You look at Jeongin, hoping for some kind of denial, but he just stares at you, guilt and panic written all over his face.
"yn..." He whispers but you place the plates down, shaking your head and heading out of the apartment needing some time to think clearly but it wasn't going to happen as Jeongin chased after you.
“YN, please, let me explain.” He begged but you stepped back, shaking your head. “Not here. We’ll talk about this at home.”
[X]
When Jeongin finally joined you back at home it was like the air was thick with tension and you stared at him,
“So, it was all a bet? Our entire relationship started as some kind of joke?” you demand, tears welling up in your eyes. Jeongin looks desperate, his hands trembling as he tries to reach for you. 
“Yes, it started as a bet. But YN, it was a stupid, immature mistake. I never meant for it to go this far.”
“That’s supposed to make me feel better?” you shout, pulling away from him. 
“I trusted you, Jeongin! I thought what we had was real.” You yelled at him and he shook his head at you,
“It is real,” he insists, his voice breaking. “I fell in love with you, truly. That’s why I never told you. I was scared of losing you. You mean everything to me, YN.” He pleaded with you.
"I never would have taken you to meet my family if I didn't love you. I wanted you to see them, to see the family that would one day be yours." You desperately wanted to believe him but everything was still weighing down on your chest. 
“How am I supposed to believe anything you say now? How do I know this isn’t just another part of the bet?”
“Because I’m here, telling you the truth,” he says, tears streaming down his face. 
"Because I'm hopelessly and dramatically in love with you. I would fly a plane and write it in the sky if I could! In fact! I'll hire someone to do it, I'll....I'll do anything, please, yn." He held your hands in his and you started at him, everything still so fresh.
"Innie..."
“I know, Yn, I fucked up but please...” he whispers, stepping closer cautiously. 
“I’ll wait as long as it takes for you to deem me worthy of your forgiveness. I’ll prove to you that my love is real. No more lies, no more secrets.” You nod slowly, the anger and pain slowly giving way to the love you still feel for him, everything was real between you and you could tell that from his family but it didn't make it easy. 
“Okay. But you have to be honest with me from now on. No more lies, ever.”
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maxlarens · 3 months ago
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Driver!reader and oscar starting the race from p1&p2 and before they put their helmets and stuff they kiss one last time on the grid and people go like "awwwww" because it was somehow filmed
i feel like u sent this in to be like a concept or something but I HAD to write it. i’ve been writing for lando so much lately i’ve very much been missing oscar + driver!reader. plus i’ve not ever written them in an established relationship before!
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It’s not like you and Oscar are a secret.
It might have been easier that way, to keep your relationship from the public’s prying eyes, but it’s not really your style. It’s not Oscar’s either.
Being public comes with its problems— questions from the media, awkward interviews, your respective PR teams going a little buck wild, extra contracts and NDAs to sign— but it also has its benefits.
You like be able to talk about him, like being able to call him your boyfriend. ‘Oscar Piastri, the driver for McLaren? Yeah, that’s my boyfriend’. You like hearing him say things about you, praise your driving skills, talk about you as a rival and as his girlfriend. It’s all you can do to stop grinning like a madwoman whenever you’re in his vicinity. You equally like that the press can’t comment meaningfully on it, can’t speculate wildly about the nature of your relationship when you’ve made it clear.
Some people hate it. They think you’re a silly little girl with her head full of romantic notions. No room for skill, for ruthlessness. Which is funny, given that Oscar receives only praise for “bagging you”. You think they’re just jealous; if not of the fact that Oscar’s dating you and not them, then of your duality. The way you can love Oscar wholeheartedly and also race Oscar wholeheartedly.
They’re not mutually exclusive in your experience.
Naturally, there’s a massive buzz about you and Oscar being P1-P2 on the starting grid.
You’re not particularly surprised. The MCL’s had been performing well all through practice, just as you and Lewis had. You pull out pole in quail, fastest Q1 and Q2, with Oscar hot on your tail. There’s a barrage of bizarre questions in the media pen,
Do you think Oscar’s grid position will impact your performance during the race? Why would it?
Will this affect your relationship with Oscar? No.
What happens if one of you wins and the other doesn’t? The same thing that happens every time anyone wins ever?
You’re confused by it. Bordering on snarky and sarcastic the fifth time someone asks if you and Oscar might break up over this. Rolling your eyes, thinking your true feelings are obvious, you tell some Italian journalist that yeah no we might break up if he doesn’t let me win.
It’s funny, objectively it’s hilarious. You and Oscar laugh over it later that afternoon. Send the clip to a group chat you’re in with a few drivers closer to your age. And so what if it’s still funny when clickbait articles and gossip sites start saying that the two of you have broken up.
There’s even more buzz about it by the morning of the race. Journalists you’ve already talked to have suddenly become convinced that you and Oscar are on the rocks. You can’t help but play into it a bit— partially for the benefit of your PR team— arriving separately, forgoing the couple snap that you usually grace Kym Illman with, giving vague no-comment answers when the media accost you.
Maybe it’s a little childish, a little dramatic. But it serves them right for jumping to conclusions.
You avoid any presenters on the grid walk, sinking into the protective circle made by your engineers. Staying behind the roped off areas until about 10 minutes to race start when you finally hop over the MCL in P2.
Oscar’s drinking water, looking smug when you push through McLaren engineers, so used to your continued presence that they let you in with ease.
“Hey,” you greet, reaching out to smooth the collar of his fireproofs, “How’s it goin’?”
“Mm,” he hums, cutting a glance behind you, which you take to mean that there are cameras trained on the two of you, a reporter trying to get your attention maybe, “I’d be better if I was on pole.”
You hiss mockingly, “Yeah, too bad. You gonna break up with me about it?”
He raises an eyebrow, lashes brushing his cheekbones as he looks down at you, “I didn’t know you read F1 gossip sites?”
You shrug in response, “Don’t need to. The media make enough noise about it.”
He hums again, smile pulling at his mouth while someone from Mercedes shouts at you to get back. Rachel probably. You should go, you really should. But Oscar’s so close and so cute in those black fireproofs.
“Good luck,” you say,
leaning forward to kiss him, hand on the back of his head. A slip of tongue, not so much to be publicly obscene, but enough to leave him wanting,
“You’ll need it.”
You hear the sweet sound of him laughing as you slip away, back to where your car is sitting on pole. Ignoring the reporter dogging at your heels for a comment you don’t really need to give.
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like maybe unrealistic. who cares!
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suiana · 3 months ago
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imagine yandere! drider who makes himself at home in the corner of your room one day.
you come home from work, absolutely tired and just wanting to have a break... only to hear a weird scratching sound coming from your room. what the hell could it be? surely it's just your imagination? so you make your way towards your room nonchalantly, pushing the door open and...
"wha-?!"
"oh, darling."
you freeze, staring at this... absolutely gorgeous drider who had made himself at home in the corner of your room... you were originally going to let things be until you saw the many tiny babies on the back of his spider lower body. screaming and throwing your bag at him, you slam your door shut and run away from your room as fast as you could. shit, shit, shit! a spider dilf?!
...you were going to escape until you hit your toe and started crying on the ground. the drider came out of the room (with babies and all) and nursed you back to health.
and that was your first meeting with the hot asf spider dilf in your room.
you later learned that he was surprisingly gentle and didn't mean for you to be scared by his appearance. you wanted to tell him the truth. that well, you weren't scared by his appearance, sure, you were stunned when you saw this whole ass grown dude in your room but he was hot so it doesn't really matter. but rather, his kids scared the hell out of you with their tiny beady eyes. however... you're sure that if you said that, he'd try and kill you. you've seen how caring and loving he is with his tiny spider babies after all.
you've also come to learn that he really loves making intricate web designs. designs that absolutely sparkle when the light hits them in a certain way... they're all so beautiful and mesmerizing that you can't help but compliment him whenever you can.
"hey, your patterns are beautiful as usual dude."
"ah... thank you love."
he blushes, avoiding eye contact as he shakily pulls out a flower from behind his back. right, he's been giving you these gifts at random too. it's cute. well, not when he just started out though. he used to gift you dead rats.
you were horrified when you woke up one day and saw a dead rat on your desk. what the fuck?! your drider roomie didn't seem all too phased, even looking at you expectantly as he waits for a compliment. you had to explain to him that humans don't accept gifts like that. he looked rather deflated the rest of the day after that. talking about how his spouse must hate him and stuff. you didn't know he had a spouse.
you've also realized that he's weirdly overprotective of you.
you can't even go out on dates anymore. or... talk to anyone for that matter. he once threw your phone at a wall when he saw you texting this guy you were planning on meeting up. he also gets all pissy and starts making weird spider sounds while his children crawl around your feet. you were super grossed out by that at first but you've grown used to it by now.
"dude stop, i just want to go on a date!"
"no."
"why?!"
"you already have me! that's why!"
he gets all pouty, arms crossed over his huge tits as he nags you about trying to cheat on him. you never really said anything about that before. surely he's just roleplaying because you sometimes act like his lover by giving him food and asking how he is. but this has gone too far! you have to say something!
"we aren't dating, what are you on about?"
"yeah, because we're married."
what.
you stare at him, jaw dropping as his kids tug on your pants and chat noisily. did he just... say you guys were married? you try searching his face for any lies, only to be hit by the fact that he was serious.
that's when everything starts to suddenly fit together in your mind. the gifts, the name-calling, the fact that his kids love you... damn, maybe it was also because you complimented his webs that solidified his belief that you two were together. you read somewhere that male spiders make patterns to impress potential mates.
"um..."
"hmph! don't go on any dates anymore. i can't believe you keep trying to be unfaithful. our kids will be sad you know!"
damn it, looks like you got yourself a drider husband now.
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