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#and when i suggested a date that i was free (almost 2 weeks after our first date) he said that he’s looking forward to it???
goldennika · 3 days
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this guy i’m talking to is so nice and understanding and patient and thoughtful and funny??? i’m not used to this???
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moodriingz · 5 months
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Waiting Room pt. 2 | Q. Hughes
Summary | part one it’s Quinn’s turn to pine over the reader while she tries to move on, but can she do that when she’s still in love with Quinn?
Pairing | Quinn Hughes x reader, Elias Peterson x platonic!reader, reader x oc
Warnings | Angst?, mutual (but blind) pinning, cursing maybe 
Author's Note | Thank you so much for all of your support for part one! I feel so bad that it took me forever to write part two, but this semester really kicked my ass. I hope this lives up to the hype. I honestly just wanted to get it done to move on if that makes sense? I’m hoping to continue writing so feel free to send requests! I’ve also recently gotten into F1 so you can send requests for that too!! xx
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“You were so right, me and Evan got along so well. He’s great. We’re going on another date too.” 
Quinn felt sick to his stomach. Not only had your friendship dwindled out of nowhere, but now you’re with someone else. Worst of all there was no explanation to why you pulled away. Quinn racked his brain for any reason why you would stop hanging out with him. 
Now he had to watch you give your attention to someone else. He was so jealous of this random guy. Quinn wondered what made Evan better than him? All he knew was that the bright smile and light blush you seemed to always have was for some other guy now. 
A couple of weeks passed and Quinn barely spends time with the team outside of practice and chooses to spend his time going through old photos and videos of the two of you or watching anything you’ve ever suggested to him. He’s halfway through one of your favorite movies when there’s a knock on his door. His heart flutters hoping it's you, but is immediately let down when he realizes that it's Elias and Brock at his door.
“What do you want,” He asks begrudgingly, leaving the door open as he returns to his couch.
“We wanted to make sure that you’re alive,” Elias said.
“Well now you know bye,” Quinn quips at them.
“Dude something is up with you and we’re not leaving until we find out,” Brock said.
“Is this about Y/N?” Elias asked.
“Fine yeah it’s about Y/N. I just really miss her,” Quinn admits after taking a deep breath.
“We used to talk almost everyday and that all stopped on the last road trip and now she’s seeing that new guy. I was finally going to ask her out and she just shut down.”
“Wait you were? You told me you didn’t see her that way and she overheard,” Elias says confused.
“She heard me? Why didn’t you say anything?” Quinn asks as his heart shatters all over again. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you.
“She was so upset and I didn’t think I could change your mind. She had been pinning after you for months and you never did anything, so I just believed you,” Elias said with a shrug.
“I didn’t think she felt the same way so I was just putting my feelings aside because I cared more about our friendship,” Quinn says, putting his head in his hands. “I think I royally fucked up.”
“Maybe not, Y/N and Evan don’t seem super serious yet. You might be able to wiggle your way back in with her,” Elias says sitting down with Quinn.
“I don’t even know where to start.”
“Maybe bring her coffee? Start there and see what happens,” Brock suggests and Quinn just nods making a game plan to get his girl back.
The next morning he gets up early for practice to go pick up your coffee from the cafe you always go to. He knew where to go because the cafe printed their logo on their cups and he had plenty of time to take note of it. As he walked in he immediately recognized your silhouette waiting in line.
“Looks like you beat me to it today,” Quinn says walking up to you in line.
“Beat me to what?” You ask confused why after not talking to each other for a month he decided to come to your cafe.
“I was going to bring you coffee today,” He says awkwardly with a small smile on his face.
“Oh well you can still pay if you want,” You suggest as a joke.
“Yeah I guess that’s true,” Quinn says, hoping a conversation would start on its own. After a minute of silence he gives in and asks, “So what’s new with you I feel like we haven’t really talked that much recently.”
“Nothing much, you know filming you guys all day,” You say wondering if you should mention Evan. It’s still so new and you don’t know if it's going to work out, but he makes you so happy.
“I actually just started seeing this guy. His name is Evan, I think you would like him actually, he's really nice,” You say, deciding to rip off the bandaid.
Quinn knew he wouldn’t like Evan because he was getting with the girl of his dreams.
“Yeah maybe you should bring him out with us after a game or something. I'd love to meet him,” Quinn says kicking himself because that’s the last thing he wants, but anything to get back in your good graces. 
You give him a smile at his comment thinking of what to say next. Luckily for you the barista calls for you two to order. And just like you suggested, Quinn paid. He offers you a ride to the arena before you even start walking back to the metro station to get to work.
You both sit in silence trying to think of anything to talk about. You finally start the conversation by mentioning that an author you had recommended to him a while ago put out a new book and how excited you were to pick it up. 
Just like that the two of you fell back into conversation like you hadn’t missed a beat. You arrive at the arena way quicker than you thought you would and almost don’t want to get out of the car and leave Quinn again. You walk inside and as you are about to separate, but Quinn stops you.
“Would you like to go stop at a bookstore after work today to pick up that book? I could take you home after so you don’t have to take the metro home,” He asks hoping you would say yes.
Yeah that would be really nice. I’ve really missed hanging out with you,” You say with a smile and leaving to go get your work started.
“What’s got you smiling like that? Evan?” Megan, your coworker, asks jokingly.
“Actually no I ran into Quinn this morning when I was getting my coffee and we just talked for a while. Now we’re hanging out after work,” you say, taking a sip of coffee. Hoping to hide your smile behind your cup.
“Wait, really I thought you two were going to avoid each other forever.”
“Well I guess not. He said he was going there to pick up my coffee which was really sweet of him.”
“Oh he’s so into you,” Megan says sitting back in her chair. 
“No he’s not, why would you say that?”
“Think about it, he stops talking to you right after you start seeing Evan and out of nowhere he’s doing all of these nice things for you?” 
You stop and think about it, but there’s no way he told Elias that he could never see you that way. You brush it off and get on with your day. You didn’t have to shoot any content today so you didn’t see any of the guys during their practice, but Quinn was waiting for you after work to take you to go find your book.
You try not to think about what Megan said to you today, pushing it to the back of your mind. Once the two of you get to the bookstore you feel like a kid in a candy store showing Quinn all of the books you had on your reading list but haven’t gotten yet. Without you paying attention he grabbed a basket and started throwing them in there to pay for them himself.
He finally leads you up to the counter and insists on paying for all of the books he grabbed for you. You try to convince him that he didn’t need to but you were cut off by the clerk.
“Girl just let your cute boyfriend pay for your books. That’s what I would do.” You try to deny the accusation from this random teenager, but before you could they were announcing the total and Quinn was inserting his card. He grabbed the bag and walked you back out to the car.
“Sorry if what they said was weird, but just think of it as a payback for all of those coffees you got me,” Quinn said, trying to make you feel better.
“No it’s fine I think it’s kinda funny actually.” You say finally realizing you were there for several hours and were too tired to make dinner.
“I think I’m just going to order take-out for dinner if you want to keep hanging out at my place,” You say with a blush creeping up your cheeks.
“Yeah that’d be great,” Quinn says as you start ordering. He stops at the restaurant while you run in to pick it up. He decides to text Elias and Brock an update and that he’ll tell them more later. 
The drive to your apartment was filled with playful banter about what you should watch and Quinn just watches you as the streetlights illuminate your face. The two of you finally arrive and settle on a new movie you just saw. It really didn’t take much convincing for him to give in; he just wanted to push your buttons a little bit.
Later, they are surrounded by take out tins and you’re starting to drift off. At some point during the movie your head ended up on Quinn’s shoulder and you started to doze off. Quinn wasn’t complaining, but felt like it was time for him to go as the credits started to roll.
“Hey Y/n/n wake up,” He says quietly as you groan and cuddle into him further. “Y/n/n you have to get up-the movie’s over.”
When there’s no sign of you moving he decides to just pick you up and bring you to your bed. Thinking you’re asleep he decides to give you a “friendly” kiss on your forehead and says goodnight. You feel the butterflies that you thought were now reserved for Evan coming back all over again. Quinn grabs the trash from the takeout and sees himself out, and can’t seem to wipe the smile off his face. On his way home he decides to call Elias.
“Elias I’m in so deep I don’t know what to do,” Quinn says concerned because he doesn’t want to break you and Evan up and ruin something else for you.
“Wait what happened?” Elias asked confused because all Quinn had told him was that they were heading back to her place.
“I kissed her-” Quinn said before Elias cut him off.
“You what? You move fast, man.”
“Well I kind of kissed her. She fell asleep on my shoulder and wouldn’t move so I carried her back to her room and then I kissed her forehead. Now I’m going home,” Quinn says still with a deep smile on his face. “I just don’t know what to do.”
“I guess act like nothing happened. She was asleep right? Just leave it be for now and still hang out with her. I can talk to her and see what’s going on with Evan and then you can go from there.”
“Yeah good point thanks Elias, I’ll see you later.”
The next day you walk into work reminiscing last night with Quinn hoping you could relive it again soon. Silly crush aside, you missed your best friend and wanted things to go back to normal. 
Elias practically corners you just to ask questions about Quinn.
“Quinn told me you two hung out last night, so you aren’t ignoring him anymore?”
“I was never ignoring him I just was busy,” You say trying to move around him to get to his office.
“Yeah alright. Anyways, how is it going with Ethan?” Elias asks, teasing you.
“Evan is great. I think I might invite him to a game or something soon,” You say, rolling your eyes.
“Oh wait, really?” Elias asks as you start to walk away. “For the record I think that would be a great idea. Maybe next week against Winnipeg?”
“Yeah I’ll have to ask him. Now if you will excuse me I have to go to my desk.” You say finally walking away. 
You set your things down and open your computer and Megan starts questioning you about your evening with Quinn.
“It really wasn’t anything crazy. We just went to the bookstore where he bought all of them for me and then we went back to my place and got dinner,” You tell her leaving out the fact that he brought you to your bed and kissed you goodnight.
“The fact that he bought all of your books is enough to tell me that he’s into you. I know you had a long list you were slowly buying for yourself.” Megan may have set you up with Evan but she wasn’t blind to how much Quinn was into you and vice versa. 
“I’m thinking of inviting Evan to a game. What do you think?” You ask to change the subject.
“I think it would be a good idea if you weren’t afraid of what your work husband would do,” Megan says, teasing you.
“I- what are you talking about,” You ask, hiding your blush.
“Y/N you can pretend to be oblivious, but Quinn really likes you and you should think about his reaction to having your new boyfriend at a game.”
“Who even knows if Evan would want to go,” You say before locking in on your work for the day.
You had already made plans to go out with Evan later that night so you figured it would be the best time to ask him then. You go home and get ready for your date thinking about what Megan said to you earlier in the day. 
Soon enough you leave to go meet Evan at some new restaurant you would never pick out because it was too fancy for your taste. He greets you with a kiss to your cheek asking you how your day was.
“It was good I just had to deal with Megan and Elias berating me all day,” You say, aiming to leave the questions about Quinn out.
“Why would they do that?”
“Oh I was just thinking about inviting you to a game soon and they were just making fun of me,” You say sheepishly.
“That would be so cool! Would you be able to hang out with me or would it be like a wag situation where I just watch you do your magic,” Evan says with a chuckle as you start to look over the menu.
“I could probably get the night off and sit with you. Do you think you’d be free for the game next Saturday against the Jets?”
“Yeah that would be great! I’m looking forward to it!” He says closing his menu to signal he’s ready to order.
You continue to hang out with both Quinn and Evan, but choose not to tell Quinn about your invite for Evan to come to the upcoming game.
Saturday’s game finally rolls around and Quinn notices your absence during the warmups. You usually can be found on the bench shooting content but tonight it’s Megan in your place. 
“Hey Petey do you know where Y/N is tonight?” Quinn asks hoping Elias might have some insight.
“Yeah she’s in the crowd tonight with Evan,” Elias says pointing towards Y/N and Evan in their seats.
Quinn’s heart drops. You had mentioned that you were thinking about inviting Evan but didn’t think it would be so soon. He tries to forget that you brought your boyfriend to the game, but he can’t forget the fact that you’re wearing his jersey. He can’t help but feel a fire ignite when Evan leans in to say something to you. The sense of jealousy does not go away, but there is a sense of pride knowing his name is the one on your back.
You spot Quinn looking at the two of you and give a shy wave like you had been caught. Evan leaves to go grab some water and you are stuck worrying about what Quinn is thinking about you bringing Evan. 
Honestly since you started hanging out with Quinn again you just felt like your heart wasn’t in it with Evan anymore. You were planning on ending it but he kept talking about how excited he was for the game, so You decided to wait until after to end it with him.
There were no goals by either team after the first period, but something about Quinn seemed off. He was checking the other team left and right and was obviously agitated. The crowd is electric even though the Canucks are down 3-2 half way through the third, but it doesn’t seem to help his mood.
Quinn continues to instigate against the Jets and eventually gets himself into a fight against some player who was aggravating him all night. It doesn’t last long, but enough to get himself a penalty. He looks even more upset than before watching over the play.
Y/N was worried for Quinn. He never was this short tempered and she couldn’t figure what made him that upset. Evan can feel the nerves radiating off of her and rubs her shoulder to try and calm her, but he can’t help but feel like he is the last thing she needs right now.
“Hey Y/N I hate to do this here but I think we should probably end this,” Evan says and you finally take your eyes off Quinn. There is nothing you can do but sigh.
“Evan I’m so sorry I really wish I could’ve been better for you.”
“No it’s ok we had a great time and I’m happy being your friend I just think you have feelings for someone else,” Evan says with little to no hurt in his voice.
“Yeah I would love to still be your friend,” You say with a small smile as he gets up to leave.
Quinn sees Evan get up, but he just assumes that Evan is getting you something from the concessions. He realizes he needs to stop focusing on your date tonight and lock in for the rest of the game.
Unfortunately the Canucks lose 4-2 and Quinn looks like a kicked puppy, but luckily he isn’t assigned to interviews so he can just clean up and get ready to head home. He hopes he can just forget this night, especially seeing you with Evan. 
Little does he know that you’re already waiting for him in the hallway all but pacing the area hoping he’s not too upset to talk to you. Quinn keeps his head down not wanting to see all of the sweet reunions of the couples and families until he hears you call his name. 
He almost doesn’t want to stop worrying Evan would be with you, but you ran up to him to get his attention. Quinn turns around surprised to see you alone with a worried look on your face.
“Where’s your boyfriend?” He asks, his voice laced with annoyance. His comment leaves a sting in your chest.
“Um we actually ended it, but I just came to see how you were doing. I was really worried about you. I've never seen you so upset,” You say with worry lacing your voice.
“Well thanks for checking on me but - wait you ended it with Evan?” Quinn asks, lighting back up.
“Yeah we were better off as friends. I honestly wanted to end it a while ago because I kind of have feelings for someone else, but he was really looking forward to the game,” You say rubbing your arm hoping he might start catching on.
“Oh?” Quinn says with a glimmer of hope in his eyes, but still guarded in case it is someone else.
“Yeah he’s some goofball who was stupid and got himself a penalty tonight,” You say, stepping closer to Quinn.
“Well hopefully he can get that under control for the rest of the season, I’m sure you don’t want to be stuck with someone spending time in a box the whole game,” Quinn says with a smirk and leaning in.
You decided to close the gap and the kiss was all you had ever hoped for. There was a mix of fireworks and something that just felt like home as he grabbed your sides to pull you in closer. Neither of you wanted this feeling to end, but unfortunately you had to come back up for air. 
Quinn has the slightest pink tinge and smile on his face as he pulls back far enough to scan your face for any regrets.
“I’ve been waiting to do that for so long,” He says.
“Finally!” Elias says as he rounds the corner to see the two of you still wrapped up in each other's arms.
“I never thought he would make a move,” Elias adds as Quinn tries to hide in your neck.
“Well maybe we should get out of here and talk a little bit,” You suggest and Quinn excitedly nods, grabbing your hand to lead you out.
The two of you get into his car and you leave the arena stealing kisses from each other at stop lights and looking forward to your future together.
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birdy-bat-writes · 2 years
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Can I Have This Dance?
Merry belated Chrysler and a very happy New Year to everyone! As a special little gift to @quillsareswords for our Christmas Fic Exchange. I was your secret Santa :D May I present to you, a jolly little holiday fluff! Hope you like it.
also, feel free to check out the other amazing writers posting for this fic exchange :) @glorified-red @quillsareswords @zombybird @citrinesparkles
Pairing: Damian Wayne (aged up) x Fem!Reader
Category: Fluff
Word Count: 1.6k
Warnings: Nothing really, I suppose bad grammar might be one:,D
Please like, reblog and comment, I literally love hearing from you! :) And if I make a mistake (which I probably did because yo girl is sleep deprived yeet) please drop it in the comments and I'll fix it asap. Live y'all!
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It was the week after Christmas and The Wayne family were all scattered around the country for their post-holiday-pre-new year’s tasks. Bruce was out on a business trip, Dick, Jason, Duke, and Tim were on vacation with their significant others, Alfred was making use of his spa resort gift card, and Barbara, Cass and Stephanie took a girl’s trip in Star City. That left you and your boyfriend, Damian, alone in Gotham. Don’t get me wrong, you were more than happy to be there. In fact, the two of you volunteered to stay back and take some time to recover from your semester finals. You were looking forward to staying with the Waynes and getting to see your family friends again.
Everyone was expected back by the 29th. One small problem: this was Gotham city; the land of unforeseen setbacks and a blizzard had snowed in all the runways at the airport.
Each member of the family was panicking at a different airport and it might have even been a little funny to watch it go down if you didn’t need everyone back for the New Year’s Party in 2 days. If they couldn’t get here before the 31st, which they couldn’t, you and Damian were going to have to decorate alone.
After getting off the phone with everyone you broke it down. You could spend today finding a catering service that could make it in this weather and fishing through the storerooms for decorations. And in Wayne Manor, that was a task. The storeroom was easily the size of a basketball court. Bless Alfred and his color-coded shelves.
On the 31st morning, the last of the preparations were being sorted. The food was tucked away in the industrial freezers and navy-blue carpet was laid out at every entrance, adorned with gold confetti-filled balloons. As you and Damian sat alone on the ballroom floor, untangling the last sets of string lights, you fully realized just how exhausted you were. After your finals, your days were a blur of packing, traveling, and trying to stay awake through every Christmas celebration you agreed (and regretted agreeing) to going to. You never truly had moment to enjoy your time with the family or even the one person you really wanted to be with: Damian. He must have seen you getting into your thoughts and pulled you out with some song suggestions.
“Okay, then, what’s your favorite slow song?”, he asked.
“I don’t even think I have one.”, you replied.
“There’s no way.”
“Of course, there is!”
“You don’t even have one slow song you love? Like a song you thought you’d play at your wedding or dance to with your prom date.” You silently nodded.
“I guess I never thought about it, and I didn’t really dance with anyone like that at prom.”
“You’ve…never slow danced?”
“Nope.” Damian almost seemed like he wanted to say something but decided against it at the last second. “What?”
“Nothing. I’ll be right back.” While waiting on him, you hung the set of lights and looked around the room proudly. Twinkling stars strung with lights from pillar to pillar, reflecting light off the marble floors and satin tablecloths. Not bad. Not bad at all.
You began turning on your heel to go find your boyfriend when you stopped in place, heart melting at what you saw. Damian was kneeling in the doorway with a handful of roses, wearing cheeky grin. “Y/N L/N, would you do me the honor of accompanying me to tonight’s ball?”
“Damian, what are you doing?” There was no one around and no reason to be embarrassed, but you still felt your face heat up.
“At the moment, I’m hoping you’ll say yes so I can show you a magical evening, and slow dance with me.”
As shy as you felt, you couldn’t hold back a smile at what he said. Here was your boyfriend of 5 months, in a relationship well past the stage for formalities, down on one knee with flowers, asking you to a dance like a couple of high school sweethearts.
“Of course, I would love to.” You said softly. With that, you headed upstairs your get ready.
You chose a silky green gown that flared at the waist and paired it with a few simple pieces of golden jewelry. After styling your hair into some soft waves, you reached for your shoes and the tv remote. There was still time until guests would start arriving but if you flipped to some entertainment channel you were sure you would find some station covering the press and for the Wayne Gala. You were barely paying attention to the channels when you heard it.
“…the winds are only getting stronger, and roads are iced over, folks. Gotham city is now on snowstorm watch. We advise all citizens to stay home and stay warm.”
You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. That’s when the landline started to ring back-to-back. The guests were sending their apologies and regrets for not being able to attend. You obviously understood, but you felt your heart sink a little. You had put in so much work for it all to go down the drain. Just then, you heard a knock on the door.
“Come in.” Damian walked in looking just as disappointed as you. He must have heard the news too.
“I’m so sorry, Sweetie.”
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault. As far as I know, you can’t control the weather….or is that another secret you’re hiding from me?”, you joked.
“Yeah, I can control the weather and I choose to swing around the Gotham skies in -30 degrees at night. Great use of my secret superpower, don’t you think?” You two shared a laugh before getting Barbara’s call.
“Hey, you two. I’m so sorry, we just heard about the city shutting down.”, she said.
“Hey, Babs. It’s alright, are you still in the airport?”
“Well, we’re at an airport…”
“Who’s we?”, Damian asked. Barbara flipped the camera to face the whole Wayne family bundled up in scarves, huddled around their suitcases on the floor of some airport gate.
“All our flights got grounded in Metropolis. I’m sorry guy I don’t think we’re making it home tonight either.”
“Aww, well that’s okay. Just please stay warm and safe, okay?”
“You too. Bye.”
“Bye.” Damian turned to you with a look of sympathy.
“Well, I guess it all off then.” You whispered, kicking of the heels you barely finished putting on. “We should just go change into pj’s I guess.”
“We don’t have to.”
“Dami, no one else will be there. What’s the point of having a party alone?”
“We don’t need anyone else, the only person I really wanted to dance with will be there. That is, if she still agrees to accompany me tonight.” You looked at him, his eyes pleading with you. “We can play Axel F.”, he added, drawing a giggle from you. If nothing else, the two of you should get to enjoy the work you put into the place.
On the dance floor, Damian plugged his phone into the stereo system. He offered you his hand to Ed Sheeran’s Perfect.
The first few steps you took were slower than usual. He took you through an almost-waltz, twirling you around and sauntering across the room one step at a time. His hand never leaving yours. You wondered why you had never done this before. It was so much fun. Then again, maybe that had more to with your dancing partner than the dance itself.
You air-guitared and headbanged like rockstars, goofed around through a playlist on shuffle, and then box-stepped again to a Backstreet Boys song you would not stop making fun of him for.
“It’s a good song!”
“Whatever, babe, just remember you can never make fun of me for listening to Nickelback ever again.” Pulling in you in close enough to feel his breath on your skin, he said,
“The backstreet boys are infinitely better than Nickelback.”
“You wish.”
“I’m right and you know it.” That’s when the next song played, and it took you both pleasantly by surprise. Can I Have this Dance from High School Musical 3.
“I haven’t heard this song in ages.”
“Me neither. Wasn’t this one of your favorite movies?”
“Yeah, it was. I so wanted to be the main character in this. She was teaching Zac Efron how to waltz. That was probably the epitome of romance to me when I was younger.”
“Well, I’m no Zac Efron, but like the song says, can I have dance this dance?” taking his hand one more time, you took to the floor holding him even closer as if you didn’t want be away from him for even second. A little before the song came to close, you spotted the grandfather clock at the top of the staircase striking 11:59.
“Damian?”
“Yes, love?”
“Happy new year.” He turned towards the clock, seeing the seconds hand only a fourth of a rotation away from the new year. Smiling, he places his hand on your cheek.
“Happy, New year, Y/N.” and as the bell rang for midnight, he placed his lips on your and everything felt like heaven. Pulling him further into your embrace, you deepened the kiss. When you pulled away you said what he was thinking.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Not even a minute later, the doors to ballroom swung open and roughly 10 people scampered in, tracking snow. It was every member of the family and…Superman?
“It’s nice to finally see you, Happy New Year!” Duke exclaimed. When Damian wordlessly motioned to Superman in the corner, Dick answered,
“If anyone asks, we did not have superman fly us all to Gotham city in a broken-down school bus and there is not a school bus in our backyard. Don’t check.”
“Okay….” You wish you were surprised.
“Nice to have the family back together again.” Damian said squeezing your hand.
“Yeah, it really is.”
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whats-wild-to-you · 1 year
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Enemies 2 Lovers
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I knocked on the door of Hannah’s boyfriend’s dorm. The wind was blowing relentless and my face froze albeit walking only a short distance from my car to the door. A few seconds later it opened and I stared at Hannah who held a finger up against her lips.
“Again?” I whispered, while entering.
She had turned on some music but because her boyfriend had a paper to finish, it wouldn’t completely drown out all the noises coming from Jay’s bedroom.
As always he had a chick in there and was getting laid. It was the main reason that I despised meeting Hannah here. I didn’t think I ever visited, with Jay not fucking some bimbo next door.
“Sorry! I haven’t seen Brian all week.”
I nodded in understanding. Hannah and Brian were dating for about two years. A lifetime in the eyes of a college student.
We sat down on the couch and finished our own paper before Hannah described -in great detail- her two year anniversary date with Brian.
The playlist ended the same time Jay’s room went quiet. Brian looked up for a second, chuckling, as he checked the time.
“Champ!”
I rolled my eyes, making a disgusted face at Hannah, who giggled.
I had met Jay a couple times when Hannah and Brian first started dating. Soon I realized what a player he was. It didn’t take much for him to leave with a girl. Usually they hung out around him like flies over a pile of cow dung.
I had almost chocked on my fries when Hannah suggested one day to go out on a date with him.
‘He’s not that bad. Yeah, sure, he has a bad boy rep but once you get to know him you’ll see he’s really a nice guy!’
‘Why don’t you date him then?’ I had retorted, disgusted by the mere thought of going out with Jay. He made it plenty clear he did not find me attractive. From then on Hannah knew better than to bring him up again.
We all stayed quiet, listening to the shuffling in the room.
“Who is she?” I whispered. There weren’t many girls left on campus, Jay hadn’t slept with. That, and his rule of not hooking up twice with the same chick, made it harder and harder for him to find a suitable girl.
“No idea. They were in there when I came back from class.” Brian shrugged.
With a creak, the door opened. A scantily dressed girl emerged, making me chuckle as I thought how cold it was outside. I assumed Jay would come out next, but my eyes widened in shock when another girl left his room, sprinting to the door.
“Nice!” Brian exclaimed as soon as Jay walked out, giving his roommate a high five.
Both Hannah and I grunted, which diverted Jay’s attention to the couch on the other side of the common room.
“Fuck!” Jay muttered under his breath.
“Hello to you too!” I said, rolling my eyes at him. For the sake of Hannah and Brian I met him with the most basic level of human politeness.
Jay obviously did not like my company. Didn’t like talking to me, didn’t like sitting next to me, didn’t like looking at me. I never even knew what his problem with me was but whatever it was, it was mutual.
He may have been a nice guy, although I still didn't have firsthand-proof of that, but he was also a player. And I didn’t like games.
“Dude, why di-” Jay began arguing with Brian, but lowered his voice when he saw me looking in his direction.
“I hope you didn’t hurry because of me! I really don’t care what you do in your own bedroom. I’m leaving anyway.”
Jay looked at me and I swear I could see shame in his eyes. Hannah giggled, putting on her thick winter coat and walking me to my car.
“How are you?”
“The pain comes in waves. After all, Nick and I were together for a year.”
Though it hadn't been a long time, I thought Nick and I would last forever.
“You need some serious distraction, I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you.”
I shook my head. Hannah always had my back. I couldn’t possibly ask for more.
“Why don’t you come with us on Friday? I’m sure it will be fun.” Hannah offered, despite knowing that frat parties weren’t really my thing.
“I don’t know…”
“Lots of cute guys, free alcohol…”
Those were all things I wasn’t interested in, Hannah knew that. It dawned on me that she desperately needed someone sane with her. Once Brian met his friends he usually went beserk.
“Fine.”
“Oh, thank you! I love you. See you Friday!”
Two days later I stood in the frat house of Phi Beta Kappa, awkwardly shuffling with my feet, absentmindedly sipping on my drink. I was supposed to meet up with Hannah and Brian but they had some last minute issues and Hannah texted me, saying they’d meet me at the party.
Now here I was, all alone, timid like a deer caught in headlights, recognizing absolutely nobody.
It’s been 45 minutes since Hannah texted me and I decided to wait for another 15 before I would head home.
“Did you get lost? What are you doing here?” A familiar voice shouted in my ear.
I turned around, standing way to close to Jay. I had to admit, up close he looked gorgeous with his sharp jawline and chiseled cheekbones. His eyes glistened with amusement at my annoyed face.
“I was supposed to meet Hannah here. She said she’d be late.”
“They’re not coming.”
“What? But sh-” Before I could finish my sentence, Jay shoved his phone in my face, showing me a text Brian had sent him 5 minutes ago.
Yo, bro, we’re kinda busy here. Don’t think we’ll make it. Take care of Alissa.
“I can take care of myself.” I responded, simultaneously checking my phone.
Why didn’t Hannah text me?
When I pulled my phone out, I got the answer. The battery died. Great!
“Need a ride?”
“No. I drove here myself.”
“What’s the problem then?” Jay looked at me quizzically. There was concern mixed in with his amused tone, something I chugged up to the fact that he probably was scared of Hannah.
Yeah, what was the problem?
Suddenly I felt out of my element. I came here alone and I was planning on leaving alone but now the prospect of me alone on the road sounded frightening. What if something happened? I wouldn’t be able to call for help.
“Do you need company?” This time his voice was much softer, almost pleading me to say yes.
“No.”
Yes!
I looked around but my eyes involuntarily landed back on Jay.
What was he doing here? I was pretty sure he already slept with every female on this party.
“Where’s your car? Lead the way.”
“I don’t need a babysitter. Isn’t there a girl here you can hook up with instead?”
I talked without thinking, a bad habit I revealed to those around whenever I was stressed. I only realized I went overboard when I saw Jay’s expression. He looked remorseful.
“I’m sorry. Really! Thank you for staying with me.”
Maybe Hannah wasn’t wrong after all. He could be nice.
He’s only being nice because Brian asked him to!, the voice in my head answered.
“Give me the keys, I’ll drive.”
“No, it’s okay. I-”
“Keys.” He said and I obeyed immediately, handing him the keys, mumbling a small thank you.
The whole ride long my eyes were glue on the road ahead. Despite noticing Jay tilting his head to look at me several times, I didn’t dare to meet his eyes.
“So you’re still with that guy? What was his name... Rick?”
“Nick. And no. We broke up recently.”
I had no idea why I was telling Jay all that. Or why he even asked. And how the hell he knew about me and Nick.
Hannah! Hannah must've told him.
“Breakups are tough but the best thing you can do is get back on the horse.” He said, smirking. I caught the sexual reference. If Brian was around they’d probably high-five each other for five minutes.
“I’m curious. Does your life really revolve around sex? Like 24/7?” I was unnecessarily harsh and the pained expression adorning his face made me regret my comment immediately.
“I’m sorry, I- No, your right. I’m stuck-up.”
“I never said this.”
“But you’re thinking it. Everyone, even Hannah, says I need to let loose once in a while. But how do I do that?”
“First of all, stop overthinking! You’re in college! You’re supposed to have fun and do dumb things!”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“What’s your criteria when you choose a girl to hook up with?”
“What?” Jay cocked an eyebrow but his gaze remained on the road.
“What do you look for? Do you care about her personality or just her looks?”
“I- You really wanna know?”
“Yes.”
“It may sound harsh, but personality doesn’t matter since I’m not planning on dating them. Looks? I mean all girls look cute. Ultimately it comes down to who agrees to go home with me.”
“Would you take me home. Theoretically.”
Jay almost caused an accident but I chose to stay silent. My eyes landed on his fingers that gripped the steering wheel tightly.
“No.”
“Of course not.” I mumbled under my breath. “And may I know why?”
“Because you’re not one of those girls who like casual things.”
“I see.”
My breakup with Nick was nagging at me since the day he insisted to meet me for coffee. I had known something was off the second I stepped foot in the café and locked eyes with him. He started talking and I knew exactly where it was going, yet I stayed and listened to his bullshit excuse. Like the fool that I was. To this day I’m sure he broke up with me because he found someone better. Someone more fun.
“So, in other words, I’m boring.”
“That’s not what I’m saying. At all!” He turned and looked intently at me. I believed he was telling the truth. Either that or he was an exceptionally good liar.
“If I’m not boring then take me back to your place and let’s hook up.”
“You don’t want that.” He said calmly, but I could hear his grinding his teeth.
“You said a minute ago this was what college was for. Making dumb decisions. And you also told me I wasn’t boring, so we go. We do this!”
I looked over but he remained stone-faced.
"We're doing this!" I repeated, leaving no room for discussion.
Jay mumbled something that sounded like 'Fine.' and headed towards his dorm.
My confidence left me way too soon. What if Hannah and Brian were there? What would they think if they saw me with Jay? I fumbled with the hem of my shirt as Jay unlocked the door. Thankfully it was dark, which meant no one was home. Hannah and Brian might have gone out or something.
"You know where my room is. Go ahead! I'll meet you there in a sec."
I nodded and slowly walked over to Jay's room. It was the first time I saw it and I made sure to take everything in. I wasn't expecting such a large collection of books. Also his bed was smaller than I had anticipated.
A chuckle left my lips when I thought of the girls who agreed to come back here thinking they'd have a sex cave waiting for them.
No, this was a typical dorm room, and if I hadn't known Jay, I'd think this is just some geek's bedroom.
"You're still dressed!"
Jay's voice made me jump up and I quickly turned around, finding out he had only his boxer shorts on.
"Oh, I'll be a minute." I facepalmed myself, that was why he left me here alone. Was he doing that with all his girls?
"This is actually very convenient. I'll be able to get over Nick in zero time!"
"No talking! Unless it's dirty talk." Jay reminded me and put his fingers over my lips.
I lowered myself onto his bed and watched as Jay slowly climbed on top of me, nibbling on my neck. A moan immediately escaped my throat when simultaneously I felt his hand traveling south.
I took a deep breath, coming to terms that I was about to become one of Jay's many hookups. Not a title I was particularly proud of.
The snow hit the window ever so softly, but due to the absolute silence in the room, I thought I could hear it patter against the cold glass.
I slowly opened my eyes, expecting to see the familiar sight of my room but panicked when I didn't recognize my surroundings.
Then it all came back to me.
I hooked up. With Jay.
Begrudgingly, I climbed out of the bed. I must've fallen asleep, and Jay obviously didn't want to drag my heavy body back to his car to drive me to my dorm.
I shivered at my self-destructive thoughts. I was looking okay. No! I was good-looking. Admittedly, not a beanpole like the girls he usually fucked but I wasn't hideous.
I groaned audibly when images of last night flashed before my eyes.
Me riding Jay like his dick had some magical powers. Him pounding me from behind while a multitude of expletives left my lips. He was holding onto my hips, drilling into me relentlessly. I still had the marks to prove it.
Listening in closely, I couldn't make out any sounds coming from the other side of the door. Relieved, I cracked it open, carefully peeking out. I was alone. Within minutes I was dressed and sprinted to the door, the same way I had seen the girls leave Jay's room less that 24 hours ago.
Shame spread throughout me, I could never see Jay again.
I hadn't come up with a story until I saw Hannah waiting for me outside our dorm.
"Where the hell have you been? I was worried sick!"
I hugged her tight, apologizing over and over again. Inside, I connected my phone to the charger, sighing when I saw all the texts from her.
None from him., I thought to myself but buried those thoughts deep down in my soul.
Was I really expecting to hear from Jay? Last night he spelled it out clearly. Just one night! That's all these girls would ever get.
"Where were you?" Hannah's concerned voice rattled me.
"Huh? Oh, I fell asleep at the party. I woke up, surrounded by chaos and some people I've never met were cleaning up around me."
That was obviously a lie but I had seen enough teen movies to know what happened at parties like these.
"Damn, that little fucker!" She mumbled under her breath and I realized she was talking about Jay.
A strange urge to protect him came over me, so I quickly added. "Jay found me and wanted to keep me company. Said it was an order from you!"
"I just didn't want you to be alone amongst strangers. Was he not nice to you?"
I bit hard on my bottom lip, until I tasted blood. "I sent him away. I didn't need his company."
I prayed to God Jay hadn't met Brian yet, when I dived for my phone once Hannah left my room. We needed to align our stories.
Jay's POV
It took every once of strength I possessed to get up off the bed while Allie still laid in it, sleeping peacefully. I felt the exhaustion down to my bones, but it wasn't an unpleasant pain. While the sex with all those others girls was about me nutting fast and getting her to orgasm as well, with Allie I had taken my sweet time, memorizing every inch of her delectable body. She always wore loose fitting clothes so I had no idea the body of a sex goddess was hidden underneath them.
And what a sex goddess she was!
I chuckled when I downed the rest of my coffee and left for classes.
It was noon when a text message lit up my phone. I was sitting in the cafeteria, but I had no appetite. Several girls had already approached me to make plans for the night, but I had turned them all down. With a frown on their faces they left one by one after being rejected.
We didn't come up with a story, so I told Hannah I sent you away at the party and fell asleep there. If Brian asks, tell him the same.
I gritted my teeth. For once I didn't like lying to Brian even though I knew why Allie insisted on hiding the truth.
But there was also another reason that made my blood boil.
Last night, with Allie, it felt different. It wasn't a mindless fuck. I wasn't trying to deal with the pain when I had slept with her. At first I thought she was bluffing, that she would run out of the dorm at any moment. But she didn't. She stayed.
Idiot! She's not into you! When will you accept this? She said so herself. She only fucked you to get over her ex!
Allie had said this but I wasn't buying it. She wasn't that kind of girl.
Ok., I texted back. No matter how much I wanted a repeat of last night I had to get to terms with the fact that I wouldn't get a second chance with Allie.
Like on cue, Brian showed up next to me, looking dishevelled.
"What happened to you?" I looked at his as if he was crazy.
"Have you been outside? It's the freaking apocalypse! Like in that movie! Uh... what is it called again? Damn, Hannah and I watched it just the other day."
I had drowned out Brian's rattling and took the phone in my hand, texting Allie to be safe even before I could stop myself.
Ok., came her short reply. I couldn't hide the fact that I was pissed at her short answer but she was just mimicking me.
"Had fun last night?" Brian asked, absentmindedly checking his phone.
"I left early."
"Uh, Allie was a cockblock, wasn't she?"
Quite the opposite., I thought to myself and a small smile appeared on my lips. Quickly, I turned away from Brian, acting as if I needed to find something in my backpack.
"Actually she told me to leave. Didn't want me to babysit her." I lied as per our agreement.
"Hmm, Hannah predicted this. So, what? You got laid after?"
"No, I didn't."
"Dude, let's go out later for drinks then. I can't tap any, but you know I can be an excellent wing man!"
"Not in the mood, to be honest."
"Are you sick?" Brian cackled.
I kept staring into nothing, but from the corner of my eye I could see Brian raising an eyebrow at me.
It was after 10pm when I finally plopped down on my bed. I closed my eyes, trying to shift my focus to something else, but it was impossible. The bedsheets had absorbed Allie's scent, filling my nostrils, making me long for her body again.
Without much thought, I pulled out my phone and texted her.
What are you doing?
Nothing.
Come over.
No.
Should I come over?
No!
Why not?
Because I know what you want, but I ain't giving it to you anymore.
I'm hurt. You think that little of me?
Yes! Now leave me alone.
I miss your body. It wasn't entirely a lie. I did miss her body. Amongst other things.
Pfft!
Just one more time.
No. This goes against your rule, remember?
So, would you come if it wasn't for that rule? Because I'm making an exception. The rule doesn't apply tonight.
The answer is still no.
Defeated, I threw the phone away from me, not trusting myself. It pinged seconds later and I was up so fast looking for it I got dizzy.
In the end it was just another one of these girls who only wanted to brag about how they had sex with me.
I decided that I wasn't going to give up that easily.
I'm coming over!, I texted Allie and left my dorm immediately.
-> click here for part 2
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missdbrill · 1 month
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18.08.2024
Funny as you always go from the lowest of lows to the highest of highs.
After that last post I ended up having an amazing weekend with Danny and the kids. The best in a long long time. He came over for a bbq Saturday and we all had a great time. Then Sunday we went Broadstairs together followed by Margate for dinner. I can not fault how he is with the kids. Always playful, attentive, helpful. He bought a toy rocket thing and played catch with them for ages. Takes them in the sea. Digs holes with them. All the while being attentive to me too. It felt do good. He then stayed over to Monday as well. 2 nights together for the first time in weeknms or even months. It really was such a perfect weekend and made me feel so good. The thing is, when we have weekends like that all my worries disappear. I don't feel needy or clingy for his time. I feel loved, secure and cares for. It changes everything to get enough time and attention for me.
So then Friday rolls round and I am exoecting a weekend together without the kids. But he tells me he has plans with Dave and forgot to tell me. However he does say he has booked my birthday off work so riding off that and the high from last weekend I don't feel so sad. Plus sometimes it really is nice to be at home kid free doing my own thing. So Saturday I am a busy bee getting all of April's bday presents and it's a productive day. So Sunday I think I will just chill and get some housework done. I am assuming at this point Danny wont be round until late afternoon if at all. But randomly I get a text at like 7.30am saying he is leaving soon and he and Dave had a huge row. Weird as I have no idea what they could be fighting about. But also it's nice he is coming round so early. So he gets to me about 8.45 and suggests going out for breakfast. That was lovely as it's been ages since we've done that. Went to Harvester and finally get the low down on his argument with Dave. Although he is funny when he is mad. He is so emotionless most of the time, when he has emotion it's almost like he can't handle it. He was ao annoyed and agitated as he told the story and actually quite loud. Which was a bit awkward as he was being a bit sweary. But I let him vent and basically Dave broke up with his gf a few weeks ago and was online dating again. He had met a girl once and just so happened she was going to be out in Colchester the same time as Danny and Dave. Obv seemed a bit pre-planned and Danny was pissed understandably. But what I most surprised about was he told Dave he had left me at home on our weekend to meet Dave and make the effort to make time for them. I never thought thoughts like this would even come into the equation for him. It felt so nice feeling validated that he did care about time being taken away from us and about me being left on my own. Anyway they had a massive falling out over it as Dave said they would leave the girl and her mates and carry on the night on their own. But then managed to conveniently bump into them again. It did seem very disrespectful. As we drove home from Harvester I said to him I was sorry his night was a blow out. And he said he was sorry for me being on my own. Again so unexpected.
It's such a weird relationship. I feel like it's been a weird few months of him being uninvested. And esp with the phase of him putting me down jokingly a lot or taking the piss out of me as a joke which I wasn't a fan of. But when he is invested he makes me feel so loved and cared for. I trust him so completely and he is so loyal. I love that about him.
But why is there this underlying fear when we get close again. I don't know what it is or where it comes from. I am not siure if it's fear of getting hurt or what. It's so strange. But I love being happy and feeling loved. And that's where we are at right now so 🤞❤️
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m-talks-shit · 2 years
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19/11/22 - 20/11/22
Oh. my. god. When I tell you this was the best date I've ever been on.
Naturally I started getting ready 4 hours before he was picking me up. I took a shower, shaved, did my full skincare, did my makeup, my hair, chose my outfit and I was still ready almost 2 hours early. I waited around, questioning how I looked and redoing my entire makeup look.
He finally arrived and I got in the car. We discovered that we're both really into history so I suggested that we go to a musuem for our first date. It was a great, romantic idea in theory but the museum we chose was actually really boring and only had 2 small exibitions. Luckily it was free so the thing we wasted was our time.
After that we were thinking of things to do so I suggested we go catch a movie. We went to see that new movie The Menu that just came out. It was a good movie, just really confusing, there were so many plot points that were just left unexplained.
Anwyay, after the movie we decided to get drinks back at the pub that we went to near my house. We sat there for around 2 hours just talking and enjoying each other's company. Now I only had 1 drink but I hadn't eaten anything the whole day so I got tipsy pretty quickly, and that tends to make me horny. We were sat at a booth away from everyone else so we were pretty secluded. We did make out a couple of times in the pub and I quite enjoyed being evil and teasing him until he was literally shaking.
How crazy is that? Literally shaking. I've never felt that much power over someone and I fucking loved it. It was pretty adorable to see him like that.
We left about 10 minutes before they closed and just sat in his car in the car park. Neither of us wanted to leave. We get into a pretty hot and heavy make out session in the car that lasted around half an hour. The tension between us was absolutely insane. I wanted to have him right there and then and I knew he wanted me too. However, i was not about to have sex in a car and neither of our houses were available. So he took me home. Like a gentleman he even walked me to my door, even though it was only about 5 steps away. We kissed again and he left. Before that though, I may have sneakily mentioned that I'm going to be home alone for most of next week.
I'm really excited for that.
To avoid ending on such a sexual note, I will say that I have incredibly intense feelings for T. With most of my ex's, there was a lot of unhealthy obsession that was forcing me to be with them. With T, there isn't an obsession, it's pure, intense, romantic feelings. It feels different. I don't want to say love. I don't even know what love is. Maybe I'll experience it with T. Eventually. It's actually crazy, I can imagine my life with him so clearly. Whenever I imagined life with my ex's I always knew not to think about it too deeply because I never really believed or wanted it to happen. But with T, I actually do.
It's hard for me to believe that I've actually met someone so incredible who I already wouldn't mind spending the rest of my life with. I mean we had an 8 hour date and somehow there wasn't a single moment of awkwardness, we were perfectly in sync with each other. I already have so many ideas for dates and gifts. I want to introduce him to my friends and my family, I want to take him home for Christmas, I want to take a weekend trip to the countryside with him.
Alright, there may be a hint of an obsession here. I can't help it. I have an addictive personality, it's genetic and it manifests mostly as an addiction to other people. I know that the feelings are real though. It might be an addiction but it's so much more than that.
I'm really fucking glad that he asked me out.
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folkloreguk · 3 years
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🍒Cherry Ice Cream (2)🍒
A/N: Part two is here! There won't be another one after this. I just wanted to split it into two little scenarios with one being cute and the other not so cute lmao...I hope you enjoy - as always I appreciate feedback a lot!
taglist: @lovely-ateez
genre: smut, optional bias (m) x reader (f), lifeguard!au, pool sex, unprotected sex
words: 3.4 k
PART 1 (fluff, both parts can be read independently)
It was the middle of the summer holidays and you had never been happier. Sunny weather, swimming, lots of free time and as much ice cream as you wanted were only a few of the reasons for your luck. The main cause was the boy of your dreams. A few weeks ago, you had met. It had been the most chaotic, embarrassing day at the public swimming pool – or so you had initially thought. Turns out being a walking disaster could not only attract negative attention. When the otherworldly handsome and kind lifeguard had pulled your clumsy figure out of the water and even bought you ice cream to make you feel better, you had a feeling things were about to change. And you hadn’t been wrong. Maybe you were seeing things through rose-colored glasses and a mix of lovestruck hormones, but you suspected he might just really be this great.
Ever since your first ice cream date, the two of you had been inseparable. Looks were one thing – and you had made yourself aware that though he was a picture of perfection, he could still have turned out to not be your type at all. But the inside reflected on his outside. Every day you found out a new enrapturing detail about him. He was a never-ending book that you were utterly unwilling to put back down.
Your days were spent at the public swimming pool, watching your lifeguard boyfriend do his job and questioning if this was all some sort of hidden camera prank. During his break he came running straight to your spot under the trees and plopped down on your towel, ready to spend the most time with you until he had to go back. Although your streak of bad luck was over, he still took care of you and made sure you were okay in the heat. He reminded you to drink enough water and sent you a good morning text every day. When he had first asked you to help him put sunscreen on his shoulders, you had hesitated with cheeks hotter than the sunlight that day. Now it was a daily thing, and sometimes when his hands were on your back, rubbing in the lotion, you caught yourself wishing there weren’t a hundred families around you. But it was hard scoring alone time with him at the pool. Even later at night, right before closing time, there were always one or two diehard swimming fans there.
“I love watching my cute girlfriend swim,” he would keep telling you.
“You better make sure you’re paying attention to the rest of the visitors, too,” you would reply, but secretly love his flirty remarks. Perhaps he wasn’t even so far off. After your first encounter, it was apparent that maybe you were the one guest who didneed the closest monitoring. Even his co-workers knew of you. They had made it their life mission to remind him daily how whipped he was for you, but he never cared about their teasing.
At night, you rode your bikes home. Towards the candy cotton clouds on the horizon, through the small suburb, you rode side by side, still damp hair flowing in the wind. Outside your home he cupped your face then, the sun kissed skin of his hands still warm to the touch. Like he was the slowly setting sun himself, he kissed you goodnight. You were addicted to his lips. He made you fly, brought back all your fondest memories as if he himself was in them, and let you forget every worry you’ve ever had in the world.
One evening at the pool, you lay on your bathmat, headphones in your ears and your favorite summer playlist taking you to another world. Suddenly, two hands grabbed you by the shoulders. You jerked up in surprise.
“Oh my god, we could have hit our heads together!” you scolded your boyfriend, who was smiling at you like an innocent five-year old.
“Guess what. My boss just told me that I can close the place up tonight. You know what that means, right?” he said.
“Tell me more,” you smirked.
“Technically, we can stay here however long we want. And do whatever we want. As long as no one finds out,” he whispered the last part into your ear. Chills ran up your spine despite the heat in the air.
“Do whatever we want, huh?” you said. “I thought you were being a model employee?”
“I am,” he shrugged with his child-like smile. “And the model employee needs to go back to work now. I have a reputation to uphold. You’ll be waiting for me, right?”
“Of course,” you nodded, watching his figure as he jogged back to his seat by the pool. The next hours seemed to go by extra-slowly, to your dismay. After his announcement, you only found yourself staring in his direction more than on any other day. Truly, you could never get used to his handsomeness. You thought of his voice that made you melt like ice and his hands when he kissed you. Too often they remained in innocent, safe territory. Maybe that was about to change. It was a Friday, meaning the opening hours were longer than usual. By 10 pm however, even the last person had left. The public swimming pool was closed. Officially.
You had to admit, you could get used to having an enormous swimming pool all to yourself. Blissfully, you dived through the water, not having to worry about crashing into anybody’s legs or losing track of your surroundings. You had always felt as though swimming was a little like flying. Not that you knew what flying would be like. But if you had to make a guess, feeling weightless and small in a seemingly endless space probably came close. All your life, it had remained the same. Playing pretend in the water, acting like a mermaid scavenging for the most precious treasure of the seven seas – all your loveliest ideas lingered in your memory like it had been yesterday.
The pool had a shallow end, about the depth which allowed your head to reach above the surface, and progressively deepened towards the other end. You took a gulp of air and descended into the darkness. Taking long strokes, you dived towards the white light at the wall of the shallower pool end. With the brightness ahead of you, you failed to notice the shadow behind you.
As you were in the process of coming up from the water, a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around you. For the second time that day, you jolted in surprise and quickly gasped for air.
“You scared me out of my wits! Will you stop that!” you said, but you were already smiling. It was hard to carry grudges against the boy behind you. Not when he held your waist and rested his chin on your bare shoulder, grinning as if it was a crime to even suspect him of such things.
“Hi, there,” he said and pecked your cheek sweetly. “I missed you.”
“So did I,” you admitted. Only months ago, you had made fun of how lovestruck your friend had been. You weren’t one to speak now. His hands let go of you while you turned your body to face him. Then they were on you again, and although it was a small touch, your lack of clothes created a tension between you right away.
“Wanna race me?” he whispered into your ear, as if there was anyone around to listen in. Was he serious? Did he really think you wanted him to let go of you now? His voice on your neck rendered you wanting him so bad, you had to take a deep breath to compose yourself.
“I’ve been swimming all day,” you said. “Besides, didn’t you say we could do whatever we wanted? We can swim whenever we want, during opening hours.”
“Oh, sounds like you have better plans?” he asked. For a moment, he touched your forehead with his. If you bent forward slightly, you could have kissed him. His hungry eyes were on your lips when you had finished the thought.
“I was thinking you could kiss me, for starters?” you coaxed him. He chuckled.
“So you’ve been thinking about it too, the past few hours,” he realized. “You know, I was trying to be subtle about it.”
“Forget about being subtle,” you said. “Let’s just make out, please?”
“I’d like nothing better than that,” he smiled, and then your mouths touched. His gentle lips tasted faintly of chlorine and salt, a taste you had come to associate with him and magnificent things. You held his face in your hands tightly and pushed your body against him yearningly. Reacting, he sighed and deepened the kiss. His wandering hands found the small of your backside as you arched your back into his frame. You hummed quietly, hands burying in his wet hair and playing with it at the nape of his neck.
All your childhood you had been searching for your treasure under the water. Now you understood. He was right there in front of you. Little you would be proud you had found someone this precious and incomparable. And hot.
“Jump,” he said. You did as he suggested and wrapped your legs around his waist. The proximity of his body made your heart hammer against your ribcage with such feverishness, you worried it might jump through your chest. With the way he touched every curve of your body, you almost forgot how to kiss. Luckily, your instincts did the job for you as you sipped on his lips and sighed every so often. He caught your bottom lip between his teeth, and you felt his smirk when you moaned in surprise. Every inch of your skin burned with desire for him.
As he carried you over to the side of the pool, you pulled away shortly. You took the liberty to attack his neck with frenzied kisses. It felt just as you had imagined a thousand times. You couldn’t possibly recount all the instances when you had found yourself staring at his neck and shoulders in the past weeks. He was easily the biggest distraction you had ever known. But it wasn’t your fault his tanned skin was so inviting and his strong presence ever so alluring. Returning his teasing, you bit into his shoulder, kissing and sucking on it right after.
“Fuck, baby,” he said in a throaty tone. “You’re amazing.”
Softly, he rubbed his nose against yours before your lips locked again. The kiss was all but soft. Your tongues meddled as if you were starved people and you could barely keep your hands in one place. Not that you would want to. You wanted to glue his hands onto your body or better yet handcuff him to your wrists. What was the opposite of a restraining order called? You were about to invent a word for it. Never before had you been so intoxicated, so in ecstasy with another person.
He pulled aside the fabric of your top momentarily and cupped your breasts in his hands. You gasped and melted into his touch and the way he played with your nipples. He attacked your neck in kisses and you shut your eyes, enjoying the sensation of his lips.
“I really want you.” He had his hands on your ass and all you could think about was the growing bulge in his swimming shorts. Your hard nipples rubbed against his chest, the thin fabric of your swim top doing little to nothing to separate your bodies. How could somebody’s whole existence be so titillating? He pulled away, just far enough to speak but barely. “I’ve wanted you like this for a while. But I didn’t want to unsettle you by making you think I just want sex from you. Truth is, I don’t want you to be just some summer romance, Y/N. Every day I hope you’ll still be here when summer is over.”
“Why would you think I’m going anywhere?” you asked. “You’re the reason I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. I ask myself every day how I managed to end up with you in the first place.”
“That’s easy. First, threaten to demolish the turnstile with your stubbornness, second, offer your head to a bunch of kids with a water ball, third, square up against a bug in front of a hundred people, fourth- “
“Okay! Enough,” you said. “Don’t bring up my clumsiness. That’s just about the least sexy thing in the world.”
“Baby, I think there’s nothing not sexy about you,” he spoke. He kissed you deeply and all your embarrassing memories vanished at once. “So, you’re cool with this?”
His sudden change in tone caused your breath to hitch in your throat, as his hands lingered by your hips, just above your bikini bottom. You only nodded, the motion getting more eager as the words sunk in. He slid his fingers along the inside of your thigh, and you squirmed under his touch in desperation. Swiftly, he pushed aside the material above your center. His digits slid through your wetness, catching the nub between them, and rubbing ever so slowly. An overwhelmed gasp spilled over your lips, and you closed your eyelids.
“Fuck- ,“ you muttered under your breath. He teased your core, nearly sliding his finger into you, but then pulling away to find your nub to toy with.
“You look so beautiful,” he said. At his words, you looked at him through fluttering eyelids. He was one to talk about beauty. The luminescence from underwater sharpened his features, and his eyes had something magical, something enchanting about them. Like he could have you – or anyone – without saying a word. He reminded you of a merman, or rather a siren. Ready to drag you along with him, deep under the surface. And you were so willing to let it happen. For all you knew, you were long lost and under his spell anyway.
“Have you ever done it in public?” he asked. You were too distracted by his fingers on you at first, head hanging back in ecstasy, until you snapped out of it.
“No, but – fuck – I guess I can strike that one off my sex bucket list after tonight, can’t I?” you said.
“You have a sex bucket list? Interesting, tell me more about it,” he smirked. His eyes darkened and his tongue licked over his lips once. As if on command, his lazy ministrations on you quickened, rubbing your clit in small, circular motions until you were a moaning, stammering mess. You suspected he did so just to see your immediate reaction, and you gave him just what he wanted.
“Can we postpone the – the talking…on later?” you murmured, feeling like collapsing against his broad shoulders. “I’m kind of too busy to – to talk.”
“I can see that,” he teased you, kissing you gently. The delicacy of his lips only made your head spin more. “You’re so sweet, baby.”
“Don’t you want to get busy too?” you asked. You reached for his swimming trunks and wrapped your hand around his hard member through the material. “I don’t want to wait any longer.”
“Shit- me too.” His arousal echoed in his moans, and he sucked in a breath. There was a sense of power in knowing you could make him react so gravely by doing so little. You tugged on his trunks and pulled them down a little to reveal his full length. Palming him, you felt how painfully hard he must have been for a while now. He groaned and it was the best thing you had ever heard. Eagerly, you slid your bikini bottom off and watched for a moment as it sunk down into the depths of the pool. Your legs wrapped around his waist again as he aligned his cock with your core.
At this point you supposed you were both out of words. Hunger had taken over and you barely managed to form a sentence. He kissed you and you hummed and nodded, wanting him to know you were ready. Easily, he entered you and you whimpered at the way he stretched your velvet walls after all the wait. Your senses were overcome with everything around you. The warm water enveloping the both of you, the soft summer breeze caressing your faces, his hands on your hips as he guided your body into his thrusts and the sound of your breathless moans and sighs – it was pure bliss. Night had almost fallen, with the sky being a deep blue, almost black by now. It was a perfect setting for a perfect night with your favorite person.
You gazed into his dilated pupils and the coil in your stomach tightened in the most delicious way possible. Now you recounted a myriad of dreams you’d seen him in. Not always, but occasionally he showed up in your dirtiest of dreams, with his gorgeous, addictive smile and strong arms. But now he was right there, in front of you – inside of you – and you apprehended how weak your boldest imaginations had been. Your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders as you clenched around his cock. He moaned your name huskily and it only clouded your head further.
It was crazy how loving a person could magnify everything. Even with closed eyes, the mere idea of him fucking you, at night in a public pool, could beat every single other experience you’d ever had. You felt like you were blessed with the audience with a god. A god, who had manifested on earth only to scoop you up and show you the finest things in life. You definitely couldn’t think of a finer thing than his cock dragging through your walls, hitting your g-spot repeatedly, while he had you cased against the pool tiles. Moans and little whimpers fell from your lips, and you were glad there wasn’t a single soul close by who could have heard.
He was jaw-dropping. With the way he pounded into you hard, using the poolside wall as support on your back, you felt your head spin as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Your skin seemed to prickle wherever he touched you and you pushed your chest against his. Just a little closer, you told yourself, even though you were running out of space already. It was body against body while he whispered naughty things into your ears, telling you how incredible you felt, how lucky he had gotten with you and how sexy he found you.
“You’re the fucking best I’ve ever had, baby,” he said. His teeth grazed your neck as he kissed your sensitive skin messily. You could have counted every single drop of water hanging from the strands of his hair and adorning his face. Could have taken notice of every single eyelash and even the tiniest speckles of color in his irises. But you could barely command your eyes to stay open.
“So- close,” you said. In your ecstasy, you clawed at his back as another wave of pleasure went through your entire body.
“Together, hm?” he said, lips brushing over your cheek with every thrust. You hummed and nodded, as he picked up his thrusts to a toe-curling speed. With every touch of your sweet spot, you felt reality slip away a little further, and you were doing nothing to fight it. You invited the feeling in, resting your forehead against his, breaths coming out in short puffs. And then it overcame you. Your orgasm jolted through you like electricity, and you clung to him as if you might have sunken otherwise. It made your shared moans high pitched, and he followed you, pulling you into his arms like it was alone you who was keeping him afloat.
The splashing of the water softened as he drew out your highs for as long as possible with slower thrusts. Eventually, he halted completely. He cradled your face in his hands and when you finally opened your tired eyes, he was watching you with full adoration. His charming smile caused an eruption of butterflies in your stomach. This was only the beginning of your time together, yet you could barely fathom your fortune. And as it seemed, this time fate was on your side.
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yoonpobs · 3 years
Text
bad boy good thing v.
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pairing: jeon jungkook x oc
genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining
warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)
words: 2, 435
summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing
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a glimpse into the past
“Yes. I’ve literally just stepped foot into my apartment.” Jungkook huffs with his phone between his ears and his shoulders as he attempts to multitask, hands moving a box of the dining table.
But Jimin is persistent and he’s yapping his ear off, something about dropping by in a few but Jungkook is barely paying attention, not when the existential crisis of no longer being a high school student that could hide under an institution with a false sense of security. College was different. He was on his own, even with the presence of his friends; and Jungkook was both terrified and excited.
He’d always dream of the start of his college life. Jungkook was a bit of a dreamer, and he aimed to live out the best life possible; all while trying to juggle his academics and do some extracurriculars on the side. When he told Taehyung about his ambitions, his friend just blinked and him and offered a snort; with an almost taunting pat on his shoulder.
You’ll see.
Jungkook didn’t know what he meant then, and he can only wait to find out.
“Do you need help moving in? Tae and I just finished a lecture and we’ve got the rest of the day off.” Jimin asks over the phone, and while Jungkook wants to start off his journey being independent; there were boxes of his belongings that looked way too unappealing to deal with alone.
“You’d to that?” Jungkook sighs, eyebrows furrowing when he searches for the box that goes into his bedroom.
“Come on, Kook.” Jimin whines, “You think your own hyungs won’t help you out?” His jibe is lighthearted, which only makes Jungkook roll his eyes at his friends' words.
“I know.” Jungkook affirms, “Just college life, you know? Thought you’d be busy having your third existential crisis of the week to help out.”
Jimin snorts over the line, “Try this day, kid.”
Jungkook chuckles, and mumbles something under his breath before puffing; grabbing his phone with his hand as he thinks of a question he’s meant to ask for a while, ever since he stepped foot onto campus and his accommodation.
“Is ____ with you?” Jungkook asks.
Jungkook did so some growing in the time after you’d graduated, and he supposes that he relied a little too much on you as well as Jimin and Taehyung growing up in high school. Because once the three of you graduated, Jungkook was essentially left to fend for himself when you no longer were able to pick him up with a call away or help him out with difficult math problems when you had college to worry about.
It was horrible at first, purely because Jungkook missed you and your kindness. Sure, phone calls and texts worked—but your presence was always more than what words could ever offer, and Jungkook found himself searching for other methods to survive the next two years in high school without you there looking over him.
His football teammates had always been just his football teammates until he was forced to fraternise with them on a deeper level, and he realised that they weren’t too bad. They were fun and full of life, definitely the type of people that he found himself having fun with. He’s always been surrounded with people that were older than him, you, Jimin and Taehyung for example—and having peers his age to hang out with was a pandora box he never knew he’d ever get used to.
Take Eunwoo for example. Jungkook was petrified of him because there was no way a sixteen-year-old could look that could, and if he looked like that before puberty finished its course—then what the hell was he going to look like after?
But he was a nice guy, a fun person to hang out with and he definitely taught Jungkook some things he’d never dare ask Jimin or Taehyung. Things about women and men; the interrelationships that could be navigated with enough practice.
And enter Yuna, the first girl he’s ever had the ability to get to know in his life besides you. It was the typical cheerleader-meets-footballer trope that Jungkook would always scoff at, but according to Eunwoo “it’s only right that the same type of people minded together.”
Jungkook furrowed his brows when Eunwoo clasped him on his back when he told him that with a wink, suggestive eyes when he exposed a not-so-secret that Yuna had on Jungkook after one of their football games during his senior year.
But Jungkook thought otherwise, probably because he remembered you telling him that people were fundamentally different and social interactions with different walks of life only made life more beautiful and worth living. Seeing the diversity in cultures and experiences opens up our hearts to a world that doesn’t exist for us—it keeps us humble.
Jungkook blindly agreed then, likely entranced with you in general to consider the weight of your words. But Eunwoo was like a constant reminder, and he was older then—a little more subdued enough to pay attention to the words of his friend.
And when Jungkook continued his high school life, it seemed like more and more people seemed to pay attention to him. It wasn’t like he was unpopular before, he definitely caught the eyes of many—but it was different then. It was like Jungkook was his own person and people thought he was cool enough to approach.
So when Yuna shyly asked him out for a date, Jungkook said yes even though he still thought of you.
And when Eunwoo slapped a pack of condoms into his palm while his other football teammates hollered, Jungkook took the leap of faith and lost his virginity the same night.
So, yeah. Jungkook did some growing up—and he hopes that it’ll be enough for you to see him as a man.
“—she’s always doing so much that she barely has time for us and I get that she’s always been an overachiever but we miss her, you know?” Jimin complains, and Jungkook just about returns back from his flashback.
“Sorry, what did you say?” Jungkook says sheepishly.
“Were you not listening to me rant for the past five minutes?” Jimin exasperates and Jungkook hears some shuffling and a chuckle, possibly coming from Taehyung, on the other end of the line.
“You do have the tendency to go off tangent, Jimin,” Jungkook mutters.
Jimin scoffs, “It’s called paying attention to the details you brat. But anyway, to sum it up for you since you wanna be annoying—_____ isn’t with us. She’s got this student council thing and a meeting with a bunch of ambassadors visiting the campus in the evening.”
Jungkook blinks, taking a moment to process the information. He smiles fondly to himself, realising that you always did fine on your own—and he supposes it’s always been that way. You were quiet and never imposing, but you still did your best.
“Oh.” Jungkook says, “Will I be able to see her soon?”
Jimin snorts on the other end.
“Why are you asking me? You have her number right?” Jimin retorts, “Though it may be difficult reaching her cause she takes like five business days to reply if you aren’t work-related.”
Jungkook chuckles while he fiddles with his thumb. He can see you working hard, eyebrows furrowed as you type out emails and organise events like the efficient woman you were.
He’s seen pictures of you on social media, courtesy of Jimin and Taehyung who’d post stories of your pouts when they’d drag you out for some social time, according to their captions. And God, did you grow up even more beautiful than you were in high school.
Jungkook saw you as the girl he admired in high school and it was mostly his puppy-loved up brain thinking of you like this super smart and out of his reach senior that he wanted to respect. But now that Jungkook was … older. He still thinks you’re admirable and smart, but he can’t lie and say he didn’t notice other things.
Like how certain tops flatter your collarbones so nicely that he wonders what it’s like to sink his teeth into them. Or how you’ve experimented with tennis skirts that look like easy access for a territory Jungkook’s used as one of many of his spank bank materials. Even the way your eyes innocently glance up in pictures makes Jungkook’s brain hazy.
Jungkook was older, and so were you. The two of you were in college and it was different. You weren’t just his high school senior and he wasn’t just the little kid that worshipped you. It was free game and Jungkook wanted to make to most out of it.
“I will.” Jungkook nods with a declaration and a sense of determination in his chest. “What time does she finish?”
A brief moment of silence until Jimin responds, snorting to himself.
“She usually gets off her meetings at—10 pm?” Jimin ponders out loud. “You’re really going to wait for her?”
Jungkook wants to add he’s been doing that all this while, but keeps it to himself.
“Just can’t wait to see her.” He shrugs casually.
“You still have that schoolboy crush on her?” Jimin teases. But Jungkook doesn’t flush this time. He’s had his handful of experiences to navigate his way with feelings and desire.
“Not a crush.” Jungkook rolls his eyes. But he wasn’t going to admit that to Jimin or Taehyung just yet. “Is it bad to want to see an old friend?”
“Whatever you say, Jungkook.” Jimin sing-songs. “But I will warn you; _____ isn’t the type.”
At this, Jungkook furrows his eyebrows.
“What?”
Jimin sighs, “Whatever it is you’re thinking … stop.” And his words oddly set off an uneasy feeling in Jungkook’s chest that he doesn’t like. “You know _____. She’s not the kind of person that dates or fucks around. I don’t think she’s even looked at any guy on campus ever since we were enrolled two years ago.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes, feeling slightly ashamed that he’s been caught so early on. But along with growing up, Jungkook’s grown quite a bit of an ego too.
“What makes you think I want to fuck her? What if I really just miss her?” Jungkook snaps.
“Kook, I love you and you’re my best friend but I’ve seen your Instagram stories and escapades. I have no problem with you being sexually active or whatever—you do you, as long as it’s consensual and within respectable boundaries. I know you think college is like this unobstructed territory where you can just fuck around with people but _____ really isn’t like that. I’ve been there and I’m telling you to drop it.”
Jungkook clenches his jaw, “You’ve wanted to fuck her?” Jungkook accuses.
He can practically hear and feel Jimin’s eye roll over the phone.
“No, you idiot.” Jimin sighs, “I’ve had the same intentions as you with other women. While they may be receiving and comfortable with that, _____ won’t be. I hear and recognise your tone and I’m warning you against it.”
Jungkook purses his lips, wanting to defend himself further. But he realises, who is Jimin to tell him what to do with his life? He isn’t a kid anymore.
“You’re reaching.” Jungkook tells Jimin, “You don’t have to worry okay? I just miss ____ and I want to see her before orientation on Friday. Is that a crime?”
“Again, I don’t know what you really want so I won’t project anymore. But I’m telling you, ______ is _____. You don’t think dudes have tried with her before?”
Somehow the revelation of the fact that you did have two years to mingle around with other people and potentially get with men (or women) that weren’t him causes a different type of dread to fill his stomach, an ugly emotion of jealousy. One that he’s never felt before and he doesn’t like it at all.
“God, I haven’t even seen you yet and you’re already micromanaging my entire life.” Jungkook scowls.
“The double standard is real.” Jimin scoffs, “You used to follow _____ around like a lost puppy when we knew each other first? I feel betrayed, man.” Jimin is joking but the reminder makes Jungkook still.
"That's ... different." Jungkook protests.
Jimin snorts as if he doesn't believe his friend.
"Oh, it is different all right. You, my friend, are whipped." He snickers, "Too bad the two of you are basically polar opposites, huh?"
Jungkook freezes on the other end when Jimin casually lets it slip the thought that somewhat plagues his mind, too.
"We're not that different." Jungkook defends himself.
"Says you Mr Athlete all throughout high school. I bet you ten bucks that you were already recruited by one of the football dudes here."
Jungkook scowls because Jimin was spot on.
"Okay. I do sports and she doesn't. That's it." Jungkook snaps.
Jimin clicks his tongue, "You're all for the attention, dude. _____ always keeps it on the down-low while you do your best when people are cheering you on. It's like the spotlight follows you wherever you go and she does her best avoiding it."
Jimin clenches his jaw because while Jimin's words were lighthearted, and he knew better than to ever put you down because the three of you were all good friends—the fact that someone as close to the two of you as Jimin; was laying out the obvious makes Jungkook doubt himself a lot more.
"Oh, and you're the best at psychoanalysing people right?" Jungkook sneers.
Jimin snickers on the other end but Jungkook can't find it in himself to laugh.
"Relax. I'm joking, all right?" Jimin reassures his friend. "You don't even like her that way, right? That's what you said anyway."
Right. He didn't. That's what he told Jimin.
"Right," Jungkook says stiffly.
"If the two of you ever ended up together, though ..." It's as if Jimin was the one dead-set on pushing for it as Jungkook wishes for him to drop it. "Nah. It wouldn't happen. It probably wouldn't work out either."
Jungkook forces a dry chuckle before muttering a lame excuse and hanging up.
He loved Jimin, the guy was a good friend on an average day and an absolute sweetheart on better ones. And Jungkook knew that Jimin meant no malice when he spoke of the potential relationship between you and Jungkook because, well ... Jungkook has always been the younger guy. And that would be weird, wouldn't it?
But Jungkook knows he's done some growing up. And he'll prove it—in whatever way possible.
Jimin doesn’t need to know.
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itshuu · 3 years
Text
7. watching their s/o defend themselves
pairing bakugou katsuki, keigo takami
word count 1329 words
_____________________
bakugou katsuki
after including the word “crepes” into every conversation you could with bakugou for the past week you made a date to visit your very first crepe shop
yeah bakugou made sure to click his tongue in annoyance when he reluctantly gave in but he wasn’t bothered at all
I mean, he’d do anything to make you happy y’know
even though he’d rather die than admit it
you both planned to go out that fateful day
although you had a few quick errands to run that morning you let him know that you’d meet him later at the shop through an early morning text message
so he left the dorms, past the gates on his way to finally see you after suffering through breakfast with his dumb friends
checking his phone he saw your message letting him know you arrived and texted you back, picking up the pace
when he finally arrived he froze in his spot when his eyes caught your figure being harassed by another man
you stood there confidently, unbothered even as you examined the crepes in the display window while the stranger invaded your personal space
you knew better than to award a useless man with your attention so you simply pretended as if he didn’t exist
almost sensing his fiery aura you adverted your attention to bakugou who had his eyebrows scrunched together producing a nasty glare at the man
holding in a chuckle you gave him a sweet smile as you walked towards him
but you were stopped by a sudden hand that held onto your wrist restricting your movement
“where ya going? I asked for your number didn’t I?
before bakugou could blast this guy to hell he watched as you twisted the man’s arm painfully behind his back singlehandedly, yelping as he fell to his knees
“who said you could put your hands on me?”
your voice is laced with an unfamiliar venom that makes chills run down bakugou’s spine
face stern as you click your tongue and twist his arm further which makes the man hiss
“do you need me to teach you manners?”
at this point the stranger is spewing apologies quickly, begging to be let free
all you could do was scoff in disbelief as you reluctantly freed the man and watched him scramble to his feet making a run for it
sighing exhaustingly you finally make your way over to bakugou who’s staring back with his eyes wide with a faint but noticeable blush on his cheeks
grinning, you subtly grab his hand and feel him twitch slightly
“let’s go?” you ask with a playful glint in your eyes
and he nods dumbly making you chuckle which knocks him out of his trance
scoffing, his signature scowl settles upon his face as he turns away from you and leads you through the front door of the shop, hands intertwined
for the rest of the day he kept you under his supervision, refusing to leave you alone, occasionally, laying his hand protectively on your hips and sending death glares to anyone who lingered their eyes on you too long
bakugou knew you weren’t weak, even before today’s display he was well aware of what you were capable of
yeah he was pissed watching you being flirted with but he couldn’t deny how absolutely hot you were watching you defend yourself
keigo takami
observing keigo for the past few days you were gone you could tell he was starting to miss you
after receiving a call earlier that week you’d decided to go to your grandmother’s to help out here and there
it was 3 hours away from what you and keigo called home and even though he suggested it, you absolutely refused to have him fly all the way here after one of his late night patrols
you hadn’t seen each other in the flesh in about 4 days now, settling for late night calls
he was more than eager to hear your voice after a long day of work, finding comfort in your serene voice
but you could tell he was getting restless, sighs coming out more frequently, “I miss you”s flowing out a lot more, and his loving yet lonely gaze that met you through the facetime calls you both had
you were flattered really, to be loved by japan’s no. 2 hero, it was an honor
something you never would’ve imagined would happen in lifetime
and you never took such fate for granted, treating hawks like your one and only greatest prize
because in reality he was
cracking a soft smile at his tired pout after he complained about being home alone tomorrow on his day off you whispered to him softly through the screen
“would you like to go on a date with me tomorrow?”
almost immediately hawks lights up, eyes and wings perking up in interest as he stares at you in surprise before shouting in approval
laughing into the quiet night thats how you both planned your day
that next morning you woke up to take the earliest train
you made breakfast for the large bird still sleeping in bed, shared interesting stories, breathless kisses, soft touches, and relaxed indoors within close proximity of each other before setting out for your date
it was nearing sunset as both of you went for a stroll in the park, basking in each other’s presence, laying on the grass with take-out and enjoying the fresh air
until you had to pee
with a groan you excused yourself to the bathroom really quickly and took off running as he laughed at how desperate you seemed
hawks couldn’t remember the last time you both had an entire day to yourselves to just relax and refresh
with both your schedules often clashing and the tons of work he has thrown on his shoulders by the hero commission as the no.2 hero it’s no doubt that he’s constantly busy
you both had settled for the late night and early morning greetings to keep you happy but this was the icing on the cake
lost in his thoughts with a smile on his face as he recalls the day with you hawks realizes you’ve been gone for quite a while
a part of him feels like he’s pushing it trying to convince himself that you’ve only been gone for about 3 minutes or so but he knows its been longer
so, confused at your odd behavior he stood up and headed towards the bathroom to check up on you
the closer he gets to the bathroom he finds a larger crowd of people gathering around which unconsciously makes his eyebrows knit together
“is that man crazy? sneaking inside the women’s bathroom like that…” he heard a passerby say
“damn, they're strong though” he heard another said
“oh hawks arrived!”
pushing himself through the crowd politely his eyes widen in surprise when he sees you
there you were holding a man by his shirt off the ground outside against the bathroom wall singlehandedly
the words tumbling out your mouth like poison, hot and steaming as you publicly shame the perpetrator in your hands
immediately hawks whistles, impressed by your tenacity and just how hot you look when you were upset
peeking your head over your shoulder to glance at him who was smirking at you you smiled gently at him and immediately he felt his heart swoon
“let’s drop him off at the police station and finish our date at home” you said and hawks chuckled at you
how did he manage to get such a bad-ass
© 2021 itshuu, all rights reserved. Do NOT repost, translate or claim my work as yours.
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fridayfirefly · 3 years
Text
Sunrise on Gotham
Read Sunrise on Gotham on AO3
Masterlist
Written for Maribat March Day 29 - Wait!
Gotham wasn’t Marinette’s first choice for the location of their class trip. In fact, the grim American city hadn’t even made her top ten list. Marinette wanted to go to Amsterdam, a city rich with history and culture. But when Mm. Bustier announced that a vote for the class trip location would be held, the class voted almost unanimously. After all, Lila’s long-distance boyfriend, Damian Wayne, lived in Gotham. Wouldn’t it be great for Lila to be reunited with him? And Lila traveled so frequently that she had already visited all of the other cities Mm. Bustier suggested. Would it be fair to make her go visit a city she had already been to? Marinette scoffed as she overheard the class discussion. She knew that this was just another one of Lila’s lies, perfectly designed to manipulate the people around her into doing what she wanted.
Marinette kept her mouth shut while her classmates all decided to vote for Gotham. But that didn’t stop her from putting her checkmark next to Amsterdam on the ballots Mm. Bustier passed out. Maybe that would have been the end of Marinette’s bitterness if Lila hadn’t “accidentally” glanced at the ballots on Mm. Bustier’s desk she was leaving the classroom. Marinette could still remember Lila’s sickeningly sweet voice, feigning concern for Marinette, asking why Marinette wanted to go to Amsterdam so badly.
As Marinette scrambled for an answer, Alya turned to her with cruelty in her eyes. “I can’t believe you’re trying to sabotage Lila and Damian’s reunion. You’re so selfish, Marinette.”
Marinette didn’t bother replying - it never helped. As she left the classroom that day, she could see the disappointment in Adrien’s eyes. Her crush on the blonde model had long since faded, and alongside it went the rose-colored glasses she used to see him through, back when they were both thirteen. Now, four years later, all she saw was a selfish boy who cared more about avoiding conflict than actually solving problems.
Four months later, the plane landed in Gotham just as the sun began to rise. As her class walked from the airport to the hotel, Marinette felt herself zone out. Even though it wasn’t her first choice, Marinette could still appreciate the sight that was the Gotham skyline. Looming silver skyscrapers were framed by the gray, cloudy sky. As Marinette took in her surroundings, she began to wish that she could stop and get her sketchbook out. Ideas for a Gotham-themed fashion line popped up in her mind like weeds, and she needed to stop and pick them before she could properly zone back in. Gray was a color she had never properly worked with, which would make incorporating the color a nice way to challenge herself. In her mind, shades of gray instinctively started organizing themselves into the different ways she could pair them together.
“Wait!” A hand grabbed Marinette’s arm, pulling her back. Marinette gasped as she realized that she was about to walk onto the street, straight into traffic. She whipped around to face her savior.
The first thing Marinette noticed was his height. She was used to feeling short, at 5′2″, most people were taller than her. But he seemed to dwarf her. She figured he was 6′0″ at least. The second thing she noticed was the look of concern in his eyes. “Are you okay?” He asked.
Marinette nodded jerkily, trying to control her breathing. Having a panic attack alone in the middle of downtown Gotham would be just about the worst thing for her to do. She was supposed to be Ladybug, the savior of Paris, yet she was so unaware of her surroundings in a completely foreign city that she almost got killed in traffic. “I’m okay, I was just daydreaming,” she babbled, “Usually I’d be more aware of my surroundings, but I just got off of the plane and I’m not used to jetlag.”
The stranger had a bemused smile on his face as he walked her talk. Marinette blushed as she realized how dumb she must look to the handsome stranger. “Your accent, is it French?”
Marinette nodded. “I just got here from Paris. I’m on a class trip.”
“Where’s the rest of your class?”
Marinette looked around, trying to figure out which way her class went, but they were already gone, out of sight. “I’m not sure...” She trailed off. “But I have the address for the hotel on my phone, so I’ll be able to catch up with them there.”
“Gotham is known for being difficult to navigate. I can take you there if you’d like.”
“Sure,” said Marinette, pulling her phone out to check the address. “It’s called the Gotham Grand Hotel. It's on the corner of 7th Avenue and 22nd Street.”
“That’s about twelve blocks away. It’s pretty far. Are you sure you’re up for the walk?”
Marinette nodded. “I’m sure I can make it."
His smile returned as he introduced himself. “I’m Damian, by the way.”
“I’m Marinette,” Marinette introduced herself as Damian led the way.
A moment later, Damian's phone started to ring. He answered it while still walking. "Hello.”
A brief pause, then. “I’m on 4th Avenue, by the Starbucks.” Another pause as he listened to the person on the other end of the phone conversation. “I’m not free right this moment, but I will be in a few minutes." Another pause. "I'm helping someone get around the city. She got a little lost on her school trip, and you and I both know that the city isn't exactly safe when you don't know your way around it."
Marinette was beginning to wonder who exactly Damian was talking to, but she didn't want to be rude and interrupt. Instead, she got her phone out of her pocket and sent a quick text to Alya, telling her that she would be a little late because she got disoriented on the hectic Gotham streets.
"I'll be free until five tonight. Father's insisting that I come and have dinner with the family, and I have my internship afterward, from seven to nine." Another pause, this one longer. "I suppose that would work. I was planning on going out to eat at some point, anyway. I'll just have to ask Marinette if she's okay with it."
Damian put the phone down and turned to face Marinette. "My boyfriend, Jon, offered to pick us both up and drop you off at your hotel on our way to get brunch. If you don't feel comfortable with that, I understand."
"Oh, it's perfectly fine," Marinette assured him.
Damian frowned slightly before replying to his boyfriend. Marinette knew that Damian probably thought she wasn't being cautious enough, but she didn't care. After four years as Ladybug, Marinette was confident that she was capable of taking care of herself.
A minute later, a car pulled up beside them. “This is Jon’s car,” said Damian as he grabbed the door for her.
“Thank you,” Marinette smiled in return as she pulled her suitcase in after her. "Hello, Jon. I'm Marinette."
"Welcome to Gotham, Marinette." Jon leaned past the driver's seat to shake her hand. Marinette noticed that he had a very friendly face: a nice smile and kind eyes. "How are you enjoying the city?"
"It's nicer than I expected, I suppose, but I didn't exactly have high expectations. Gotham has a reputation in Europe for being the worst tourist destination in America."
Damian nodded. "That sounds like Gotham. It'll grow on you, though."
"Like a fungus," added Jon.
"If you say so." Marinette cast a distasteful look out the window of the car at the gray streets.
"Do you have any plans for lunch?" asked Jon.
Marinette shook her head. "Not really. The hotel has a restaurant on the ground floor, but their lunch menu is pretty limited. I'm vegetarian, so my only option is a salad."
"Would you like to come to brunch with us?" offered Jon.
"Are you sure you want me there?" Marinette didn't want to be a third wheel if brunch was supposed to be a date between Jon and Damian.
"Of course," said Damian.
"Alright. I don't think I'll be missing anything if I go with you. Our itinerary keeps us pretty busy at the beginning of the trip, but we were given today to rest up, to help get rid of the jetlag. I switched my sleep schedule a week ago, though, so my body is already running on Gotham time.”
Damian nodded thoughtfully. “Do you want to check the itinerary, just to be sure?”
Marinette shrugged. “It can’t hurt to check it one more time.” She pulled the paper out of her suitcase. “Our class doesn’t have anything planned until tonight. We have dinner at a restaurant called..." Marinette consulted her itinerary, "The Coast, and then we’re seeing Wicked at one of the theaters downtown.”
“I've been to The Coast before with my family. They have very good vegetarian options. It is very expensive for a high school class trip,” Damian noted.
“I go to an accelerated school. The school has a very large budget, due to the amount of tuition, and the number of alumni who give back to the school.” Marinette shrugged, a nervous tick. She didn’t like talking about how much her tuition cost. Even with her 50% scholarship to Francois Dupont, tuition was still a struggle sometimes. Her parents didn’t make that much money from the bakery, and compared to the elite professions of some of her classmates' parents, Marinette was often considered to be poor. It left her feeling out of place, guilty every time she felt embarrassed by her working-class parents.
“That sounds-“
Marinette continued to babble. “I’m grateful for the opportunities that François Dupont gives me. Much more grateful than a lot of my classmates, anyway. Some of them only read the itinerary for the first time on the plane ride to Gotham. One of my classmates, Chloé, threw a fit because she believed that the entire trip would be a shopping spree through Gotham. Other students got mad for other reasons. One of my classmates made some promises that she had no business making - telling everyone that we would be getting way more free time than we were actually given. It’s a shame. I used to love being a part of Mme. Bustier’s class, but everything fell apart after...”
Marinette stopped half-way through her sentence and stared down at her hands as she realized that tears had sprung to her eyes. She felt the red flush of embarrassment begin to overtake her face. "I'm sorry."
"You don't need to apologize. It sounds like you have a lot going on with your class at the moment."
"That's putting it mildly," said Marinette. "It's been... difficult, to say the least."
"Do you want to talk about it?" asked Jon.
Marinette shook her head. "Not really. Even if Gotham wasn’t my first choice for our class trip, I still want to at least try to have a good time.”
“What was your first choice?” asked Damian, a hint of curiosity to his voice.
“Amsterdam,” said Marinette longingly. “But Lila wanted to visit her boyfriend in Gotham, Damian Wayne, so the whole class ignored the fact that Gotham is the most crime-ridden city in America, all so that Lila could visit her boyfriend.”
Damian looked shocked. “Did she say her boyfriend is Damian Wayne?“
Marinette nodded. “Uh, yeah.”
Jon snorted. “I know that you like girls too, Damian, but I figured you would tell me before adding a third to our relationship.”
Damian rolled his eyes, quipping back something just as clever. Marinette was too stunned to listen, as she realized that the rich and powerful Damian Wayne whom Lila claimed to be dating was the same Damian who helped Marinette on the streets of Gotham. Marinette stuttered out, “I didn’t- I didn’t realize that you- you’re Damian Wayne.”
Damian chuckled. “I can tell. I have to admit, I’m not used to not being recognized. I'm pretty famous around Gotham."
“The Billionaire Bisexual Ice Prince of Gotham,” quoted Jon with a grin on his face. “The tabloids love Damian.”
“It’s unfortunate, but it can’t be helped. The tabloids obsess over everything even slightly unconventional, and to them, the bisexual bastard son of billionaire Bruce Wayne is the perfect target. Even more so when he started dating another man.” Damian's voice was smooth, but there was an undercurrent of bitterness to it. Marinette got the sense that he didn't often open up about his relationship, for fear that the media would not be kind about it. Marinette sympathized. Françoise Dupont had been a progressive school: they had a GSA and a no-tolerance policy (not that the policy was ever upheld). She hadn’t been bullied, per se, for being bisexual, but she had experienced the all too familiar feeling of being othered for who she happened to love.
“Nice use of alliteration,” said Jon. His words would have lightened the mood if it wasn’t for the slight strain to his voice.
It was obvious to Marinette that this was a sore subject between the boys. “So how long have you two been dating?” asked Marinette, hoping to lighten the mood.
“Two years, but we’ve been friends since middle school,” answered Jon. “Damian was the world's most uptight twelve-year-old, so I took it upon myself to get him to loosen up. We became friends and everything since then just sort of fell into place.”
“An apt recounting, even if it omitted some pertinent details.” Damian conceded.
“Like what?”
“Like the fact that I was the one to ask you on a date, and you were so shocked that I had figured out that you were bisexual that you dropped the glass in your hand, shattering it,” teased Damian.
“I thought I was being subtle about it,” Jon defended.
Marinette giggled. If she could just spend all of her time with Jon and Damian, rather than her class, she might just have fun on her class trip.
Damian turned to Marinette. “He had a pride pin on his jacket and listened to Carly Rae Jepsen. Subtlety is not, and has never been one of Jon’s string suits.”
Marinette noted that she had a pride pin of her own attached to the front strap of her backpack. Most people never took any note of it - Marinette had quite a few pins on her backpack - but Marinette got the feeling that Damian was aware of it.
"We're here," said Jon, parking the car in front of a little café.
"Café Carlisle has good vegetarian options," Damian assured her as he opened up her car door and helped her out. "They make a superb gourmet grilled cheese sandwich and tomato basil soup. I would recommend it to anyone."
"That's pretty high praise. I get the sense you don't give false compliments."
"I don't." It was a simple answer. Marinette was beginning to get a clearer picture of Damian, who didn't waste unnecessary words but was never afraid to speak his mind.
"Then it had better live up for expectations," teased Marinette.
Damian smiled at her as he held open the door to the restaurant. "It will."
As Damian led Marinette to a booth in the back of the restaurant Marinette caught sight of the reflection of her little group in one of the windows. There was a look on Jon's face that Marinette wasn't sure how to interpret. He had a smile on his face, but it wasn't the joking smile Marinette saw a lot of in the car. It was more of an indulgent smile, giving Marinette the sensation that Jon knew something that she didn't. Marinette wanted to turn around and ask him what it meant, but part of her brain begged her not to ruin this budding friendship before it had even begun.
Marinette had only known Damian and Jon for twenty minutes but already had the strangest feeling that there was a connection between them, some sort of relationship that needed nothing more than a little bit of shown vulnerability to create a deep bond. The only thing Marinette could think to liken it to was love at first sight, but it was beyond that. This wasn't infatuation or obsession (both of which Marinette knew well from her days of crushing over Adrien). This was deeper. This was the knowledge that Damian and Jon had seen her vulnerability and had embraced it, showing vulnerability in their own way. Neither boy had said it out loud, but given that they had both closed themselves off from physical affection as soon as they were in public, Marinette made the assumption that any sort of public display of affection was off-limits to them anywhere that the tabloids could see. It put the fact that they had been incredibly open about their relationship in a new light. It reassured Marinette that she wasn't just imagining their connection. Damian and Jon must have felt similarly about her to be able to talk to her about their relationship.
"Marinette?" Damian spoke her name, snapping Marinette out of her thoughts.
Marinette blushed. "Sorry, I tend to daydream a lot."
Damian smirked. "I'm aware. You almost wandered right into traffic the last time I caught you daydreaming."
Jon stifled a laugh. "What could you possibly be thinking of that would make you so focused that you managed to ignore the traffic right in front of you?"
Marinette launched herself into a spiel about her newest design inspiration, explaining as she went that she was incredibly passionate about fashion and designs and that her designs often had her zoning out for hours at a time. Jon and Damian looked so interested in her explanation that Marinette blushed, not used to having anyone's undivided attention.
Marinette wasn't yet certain where she stood with Damian and Jon in terms of the relationship between the three of them, but she couldn't wait to find out.
@maribatmarch-2k21
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thebrochtuarachs · 3 years
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Something in the Rain - “A Month Apart, Part 1”
A/N: Hi everyone, thank you for your patience as I whipped out this chapter. I had the initial outline on how this chapter will go but more frequent than none, it changes a lot in the middle while I'm in the writing process. :) I love this story and I hope it just gives you the good feels while reading this. We're two years into this pandemic and the world is still crazy. I hope you're keeping safe and being kind to yourself. :) As always, your comments and suggestions are very much welcome.
A modern day meet cute instance between Jamie and Claire.
AO3  / C1: A Day In June : C2: Definitely, Maybe : C3: So We Meet Again : C4: Friday Lunch : C5: Finding Solid Ground : C6: Situations : C7: Interruptions
XXXXX
After their first date, their schedule for the following two weeks we’re packed - with Jamie settling back in the firm after his 2-week trip from London and Claire’s schedule at the hospital and preparing for her trip to Seattle.
Being a lawyer and a doctor weren’t the most flexible jobs - with patients and clients to attend to, surgeries and hearings to prepare for, plus, with both of them in administrative positions, it is additional work on top of their normal duties. But Claire and Jamie were determined to make it work, so they decided to communicate better, be extra patient and understanding, and really commit whatever available time they had.
The first week, Jamie couldn’t make lunch as he had a court hearing to prepare for and Claire couldn’t make dinner as she was on the night shift. So Jamie, one day, surprised Claire outside the hospital by picking her up, invited her to quick breakfast dates instead, and dropping her off at her house to make sure she got home safe.
The second week was a bit lighter but with Claire going to Seattle on Saturday, she had to do extra administrative work to make sure everything was set for her leave. She offered to have dinner takeaways at her office in the evenings which he happily accepted.
The night before her flight, Claire and Jamie were hanging out in her office, sitting at the sofa, admiring the Edinburgh skyline with a little wine and cheese tray.
“I’m sorry we couldn’t go out” Claire apologized.
“Don’t worry about it, Sassenach.” Jamie turned to Claire and patted her hand. “I honestly would prefer to do anything if it means I get to spend time with you - whether sitting here in your office on a Friday night or sitting in the gallery watching your surgery.”
“You’re too good to me, James” Claire quipped in a feigned dramatic voice.
“Ah, you give me too much credit, Claire. I hope you know that you make an effort too, especially these past two weeks”
“Me? It feels like you’re fitting more to my schedule than I am yours!”
“But you met me during breakfast even though you looked too knackered from yer shift.”
Claire couldn’t deny that and she could just smile with Jamie’s understanding.
“Are you all packed up for tomorrow?” Jamie asked, changing the subject.
“Yes. The weather’s mostly rainy in Seattle so I brought extra items for the wet and cold.”
“And what’s your schedule for the month?”
“Have I not sent you my itinerary? Hold up -” Claire took out her phone and quickly sent an email to Jamie. “There, I sent you my schedule but between teaching and surgery, my time’s the same as here just minus the administrative work, which I tell you not, I’m pretty excited to be free of it for the next month”
Jamie just nodded. The next month.
It’s all rather bad timing if you look at it. The first month, they’ve been rather inseparable with going to lunches almost everyday and weekends at the center. The following month, quick dates and meetings as Jamie was away at London and their crazy schedule at the hospital and the firm. And now, going into the third month since meeting, they’d be completely separated by roughly 4,485 miles.
“Did you hear what I said, Jamie?” Claire asked while waving a hand in front of Jamie’s face.
“I’m sorry, what?” Returning to the present, unaware that his mind has gone away a bit.
Claire gave him a softened look and sat closer to him. “What were you thinking?”
Jamie stayed silent but Claire’s look urged him on.
“Nah, ye’ll think me daft” Jamie said but Claire shook her head.
“Fine” Jamie stretched his arm to pull her closer and she gladly leaned on his shoulder. “I was just thinking about how I’ll not be able to see ye for a month, how much I’ll be missing ye, and how excited I am once ye return here.”
“Oh,” Claire knew the feelings were simple but it’s his words and the way he said it that touched her most.
“I told ye it’s daft.”
“It’s not daft.” Claire tried to mimic Jamie’s accent but they both just have to laugh at her attempt. Turning serious quickly, she took Jamie’s face by the hand and looked deeply into his eyes. “You know that I am going to miss you too.”
Jamie just nodded in agreement, looking at Claire so sweetly and lovingly that she couldn’t help but lean in for a kiss.
Since their first kiss after their date, they hadn’t been shy in showing affection to each other. Nonetheless, it’s all been very respectful to the boundaries to whatever stage they are in their relationship. Hand touches, hugs, pecks and kisses here and there but never really beyond that.
But with her impending departure, Claire seemed to be eager for more. Instead of completely pulling away, she kissed him again some more.
Jamie quickly picked up the signal and allowed himself to pull Claire closer and to his lap. A few minutes later, Claire felt Jamie’s tongue on her lips asking for entrance which she happily obliged. The air around them was electric.
Jamie was first to pull away before the moment got away from them. Claire sighed - not from disappointment, but by the fact of how chivalrous Jamie really is. And she doesn’t really mind it one bit. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
The following day, Jamie picked up Claire to drop her off at the airport. They thought they had time for a quick bite but traffic was so horrendous that they got to the gate just in time before boarding began.
With barely any time left, Jamie pulled Claire to a tight hug as the PA system called her flight. “Go, you’ll miss your plane”
Claire reluctantly released Jamie with a grunt. “Let’s go somewhere when I return”
“Sounds like a plan” Jamie tried to hide the longing in his voice but it was too late.
“The month will be over before you know it, okay? Message me everyday, call me every afternoon when you can” Claire encouraged him. With one last kiss, they bade each other goodbye as she started walking to her gate and Jamie was no longer in sight.  
As Claire waited for take off, the silence of a constant message ping on her phone slightly unsettled her. It was then she realized the vast distance between Seattle and Edinburgh. A single tear escaped but she quickly pulled it together. She’s not even gone yet but homesickness hit her right away.
-
So the four-week long distance trial began.
The 8-hour time difference is not too crazy between Seattle and Edinburgh with their available times falling at the start and end of the day. They’ve been coping well with their synced calendars and communication options.
Jamie sends flowers and snacks to Seattle Grace, earning Claire points from the staff for all the treats she’s been giving away.
Claire, on her end, sends late messages to Jamie to wake up to in the morning and asks Mrs. Kim’s Korean Street Food Hub to delivery chicken wings to Jamie every so often.
They’ve also reserved some time on the weekend for extended calls with conversations falling from happenings to their week to what hairstyles and colors they’ve done in the past.
It wasn’t till late in the 3rd week that things started to shake up.
It was a random Thursday evening in rainy Seattle. Between two surgeries and one class, Claire was ready to call it a day. She was settling on her sofa, drinking her tea for a little night cap when her phone pinged. It was 9:30PM Seattle meaning it was 5:30AM Edinburgh, too early for anybody to contact her over there unless it was important.
Grabbing her phone, her notifications show it was from Geillis. It was a link to a tabloid along with a message “HAVE YOU SEEN THIS?”
With the link, she can see the preview of the title “Jamie Fraser is off the market!” Curiosity prevailed Claire and she clicked the article
-
On the other side of the world, Jamie, as always, promptly arrived at the firm. Just as he was to pass Mrs. Fitz, she called him out.
“Ah, lad”
“Yes, Mrs. Fitz?”
“I dinna ken yet what ye or Claire are yet but have ye spoken to her today?”
“Today? Not yet. Why?”
She motioned for him to come round the reception and take a peek at her monitor.
She showed him the same article Geillis sent Claire and as soon Jamie saw the accompanying photo, he fished out his phone and immediately contacted Claire. It was midnight in Seattle but Jamie didn’t care - he wanted to clear things before things got misinterpreted.
“Erm, hello?” a groggy Claire answered the phone on the other side of the line.
“Hi, were ye asleep?” Jamie asked as he walked the hallway to his office.
“I was but I answered already, what’s up?” she replied, her voice still muffled by sleep. She knew why he was calling though but wanted to hear it from him. “Did you just arrive at the firm?”
“Yes,” he replied, closing the door to his office for privacy. “Well, I don’t want to keep you long but an article came last night about me and well, in case ye’ll see it, it is not true.”
Jamie heard Claire sigh on the other end, “I’ve seen it” she confirmed.
“Ye’ve already seen it?” he repeated in disbelief, looking at his watch, it’s only been posted a few hours ago.
“Geillis sent it to me earlier, I think it just came out then. She’s a bit of a morning person so…”
“Claire, it isn’t true. It was all in a bad angle. The Dunsany’s have been a long-time client of ours and we had an unexpected dinner meeting yesterday. I was just escorting their daughter to her car when the paparazzi got wind of us and ran with whatever story they could think of.” Jamie quickly explained in summary.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah. I mean you say it’s not true and I believe you.”
“You don’t have any questions?” he asked, a little baffled.
“Not really. I mean was there more to it?”
“A bit but something we can talk about later.”
“Okay”
It was both refreshing and confusing as to why Claire seemed nonchalant about all this. On one end, she might be really understanding. On the other end, she might be harboring ill-feelings she didn’t want to discuss.
It was Jamie’s line that turned silent. Claire, guessing he might need more despite her sleepy state, obliged him. “Jamie, I won’t lie. I was surprised at first because of the photo and how the article was written with your family histories. Add to that, that I didn’t see it in the calendar and you didn’t text me about it.”
“Why didn’t you call -?”
“But” she interrupted him, “I also know you, Jamie, and I know about us. If I was really concerned, I’ll call you right away. But I’m not and we’ll be meeting later anyway, so I know we’ll talk about it eventually.” she paused to catch a breath. “Besides, you already explained it, I don’t need to know any more because I trust you, Jamie.”  
“Okay” it was Jamie’s turn to give the one-word reply.
“Are we okay now?” she asked.
“Yes, as long as ye are too.” Jamie replied to which Claire mummed in agreement. “Thank ye, Claire.”
“You’re welcome. Now, I’ll go back to sleep and see you later.” With that, Claire ended the call, a small smile crept on her face knowing the relief and joy Jamie probably feels right now.
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pigeonp0st · 4 years
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Since I loved your one shot about Lena, I'm requesting another one! Reader is a single mom and is afraid to tell Lena about her child cause she thinks Lena isn't going to take it well, but in the end Lena loves her child.
Lena Luthor x Reader #2
Words: 1,590
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Warnings: none?
Notes:
Thank you for requesting! If you’d like me to change the name of the kid (or the gender) feel free to say so. Also...sorry if you were expecting more of Lena. I realized at the end that there might not have been enough (Sorry for spelling mistakes too).
———
Miles, your eight year old son, has started to pretend he’s a psychologist. He’ll sit you down, with your head in his small lap (which isn’t very ethical), and ask you about your life problems.
Usually, you’ll make up funny nonsense that he’ll struggle to find the solution to...but today a very real problem has arrived, and you know you shouldn’t be trying to confide in your little boy about this, yet you decide to anyway.
He knows about you and Lena, though Lena doesn’t know about him. He saw her on TV once, was awestruck by her “smartness”, and you let slip that she’s the woman you’ve been dating.
Dating used as a loose term, because you and Lena haven’t actually become anything official. It’s...weird. Made even more so by the fact that she doesn’t know about the most important person in your life.
You tell Miles as much in today’s session. He beams down at you, happy that you’re finally starting to take his sessions seriously, and then taps his finger against his lip, thinking. “You should just tell her,” he finally concludes after a long pause.
You narrow your eyes up at him suspiciously, and wonder if you should just pretend to take his advice and move on. You don’t. “People usually don’t want to get involved with single moms.”
His eyes furrow at that, clearly upset, so you rush on. “If someone doesn’t want to be involved with you, none of me longs to be involved with them,” then, you pause, “I just want to want to be involved with Lena.”
“So this stems from past trauma?” Miles asks, and you gape at him, shocked.
“Where the f—when did you learn any of those words, honey?”
He grins at you again, clearly proud of himself, and then schools his face into an attempt of looking professional. It’s humorous. “Psy- Psych—”
“Psychology.”
“Yes, that. It says that our fears usually come for childhood trauma.”
“I’m not scared,” but even as you say that you know it’s not true. You make a mental note to watch over whatever the hell Miles is listening to, to make sure it’s age appropriate. “Even if I am, it’s definitely not from childhood trauma.”
“From relationship trauma then?”
You let out a shocked laugh, completely stumped. “Baby, your eight. If you keep saying smart things you’re going to start scaring me.”
“Let's talk about your fears,” He suggests. Clearly wanting to move on he gestures for you to sit up. Once you do, he hops up from the couch, grabs his clipboard from the coffee table, and starts scribbling down things you aren’t able to see.
“Okay,” you hesitantly agree. “I’m scared Lena will want nothing to do with me.”
“Why is that something you're scared of?”
You give him a confused look that he pays no attention to. “Obviously I like her...I also fear that you won’t.”
He nods, finally looking up from his clipboard. “And what happens if I hate her, and she hates me, so she leaves and you never speak to her again?”
You choke on absolutely nothing.
“What will you do then?” Miles asks, and you have no response for him. He doesn’t seem to want one. “You’ll deal with it, like you always have. So stop worrying until it comes. If it comes.”
You’re equal parts extremely proud of him, and extremely concerned as you think over what he’s said.
Then, as if he’s tired of being the smartest eight year old alive, he hands you the paper he was working on for half of your ‘session’. The paper is full of sharp lines that get more curvy and tangled the closer they get to what appears to be the middle.
“This,” he says, “is how you’re feeling.”
And you believe him.
———
It takes you a week to build up the courage to tell Lena about Miles. He surprisingly helped you come to the realization that holding off on telling Lena the truth won’t change the outcome.
In fact...it would probably make things more complicated. Even now, she deserved to know sooner than this.
It’s too late, of course. There’s no point in wishing you had done differently.
“Are you okay?” Lena asks through the phone, sounding so beautifully concerned over the fact that you haven’t spoken for awhile. God, you're whipped for this world-saving genius.
“Yeah,” you say, “just...you know how I said I had something to talk to you about?” You don’t wait for her to confirm, because of course she remembers, she’s looked scared because of it all day. “I sort of have to show you...so would you mind coming over?”
Yes, you’re a coward that’s hoping Lena seeing Miles for herself, instead of you telling her about him, will make her more accepting. Miles has a very convincing charm.
“You want me to go to your place?” Lena sputters, clearly shocked.
In an instant you regret the decision you were so sure about before. Maybe Lena isn’t ready. You should tell her before she comes, so she isn’t shocked out of her mind when she sees him.
You should—
“Okay,” Lena says, determined. You hadn’t even responded to her before. “I’ll be there soon.” And then she hangs up the phone before you manage to say anything, leaving you wondering what the fuck you’re doing.
You could call her back.
...you’re not going to. You’re too scared.
——
Miles waits by the door, dressed in his best suit. He knows how anxious you are about this, despite how hard you’ve been trying to hide it since your weird ‘session’, so he says he’s going to try and be the best him he can be.
You tell him that all he needs to be is his normal self and everything will be alright, but he admits to being nervous to meet Lena too, because she’s super smart. (He’s been watching anything he can find of her on the internet)
Thus, the two of you wait together impatiently, trying not to descend into madness.
——
At some point Miles starts making and handing you scribbles of how you feel, and you start making and handing them back.
It’s while you’re handing Miles your next piece that the doorbell rings.
He doesn’t look to be that nervous anymore, just excited, so he follows you on your track to answer the door, and with each step you contemplate your entire existence beyond Miles.
Then…Then you open the door.
Miles is hiding behind your leg, looking up at Lena with hesitant hopefulness and uncertainty, it’s the exact match of the way you’re looking at her, and Lena is looking at him with wide eyes.
Because you’re sure you’re about to die from the silence, you croak out a wobbly and quiet; “hi,” at the same time Mile’s sticks out his hands and says his own charming greeting.
“Hello, doctor Y/L/N here. Nice to meet you.”
“Lena Luthor.” As if on autopilot Lena shakes his hand. “You’re a doctor?” She asks, smiling the smallest of smiles at him.
He nods his head eagerly, glad she’s smiling. “Yeah! Of—of psy- psych...”
“Psychology,” You finish. Lena’s gaze switches to you. It’s the moment you think you’re gonna die, but her gaze is concerned instead of disappointed.
“He’s older than the photo on your wallpaper suggested,” Lena says.
Oh.
Oh…
You’re an idiot.
Then, Lena smiles—wider this time because of your dumbstruck expression—and looks at Miles. “To be a doctor you have to be pretty smart.”
He nods, his eyes practically full of stars.
“That’s how I know you and I are going to get along great.”
Miles grins madly, pushes you a bit to the side so Lena can come in, and says, eager, “can I show you my work, please?”
And Lena looks from you, to him, laughs a laugh full of amusement and endearment, and agrees gracefully. “I’d love it if you would.”
———
Lena adores Miles.
Around him she almost seems, impossibly, like a child herself. She so obviously and beautifully wants him to like her, and all the while Miles is almost exactly the same around her.
They’re both complete dorks trying to subtly get each other's attention and all you want to do is watch the two of them interact for ages.
They both were two separate parts of your life, and now they’re merged better than you ever expected them to.
It’s great. Absolutely great. But whenever they turn their twin gazes on you you’re sure you’re going to melt into a puddle of adoration.
Wow.
“What is it?” You ask them, after they’ve both looked at you for too long without saying anything.
Lena tilts her head, her smile concerned again, “you look like you’re about to cry.”
Miles nods his agreement. “What’s wrong mom? Does whatever bothering you stem from childhood trauma?” He asks, and at Lena’s ‘the fuck’ face you burst out into a fit of laughter, that quickly turns into tears of absolute love.
Both Miles and Lena looked at you with alarm because they don’t realize this is the happiest you’ve been in a while. It is though. It is.
“Not childhood trauma,” you assure them both, and before Miles can suggest it you add; “not past relationship trauma either, it’s happy tears.”
“Oh,” Lena stutters, “good.”
“Oh,” Miles repeats, sounding relieved and a tad bit disappointed. “I haven’t learned how to deal with those tears yet.”
635 notes · View notes
waitimcomingtoo · 4 years
Text
My Youth is Yours 2
Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader
synopsis: in a world where you don’t begin to age until you meet your soulmate, Tom notices you started aging when he hasn’t 
part one
Masterlist
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“Are you almost ready to go babe?” You called up the stairs as you put your earrings in.
“Ready.” Tom smiled at you as he came down the stairs. He cupped your chin between his fingers and kissed your before handing you his tie.
“I’m excited to meet all your coworkers.” Tom grinned as you tied his tie around his neck.
“Me too.” You smiled as you tightened the tie. “I’m kinda glad I didn’t quit. It’s gotten a lot better since Chris joined.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Tom rolled his eyes playfully and you laughed. “I don’t want to hear about your work husband. We’re already going to be late.”
“Just teasing.” You fixed his collar and kissed his cheek. “Let’s go.”
As soon as you and Tom walked into the office, Chris caught your eye. He stared you and Tom down as you made your way through the crowd and greeted your coworkers.
After about an hour, you were alone at a table when Chris finally approached you.
“Hey.” You smiled at him as you put your drink down. “Are you enjoying your first office party?”
“Can we talk?” Chris ignored your question, looking rather stressed.
“Yeah, sure.” You nodded and followed him to a quiet corner.
“What’s up?” You asked once you were alone.
“Your boyfriend is not 24.” Chris said, causing your face to go pale.
“What?” You laughed nervously. “Yes he is. What are you talking about?”
“That man is 18 years old. Look at him!” Chris harshly pointed to Tom. “Does he look 24 to you?”
“What are you trying to say?” You narrowed your eyes at him. Chris looked around for who might be listening and leaned in closer.
“I don’t want to upset you, but I don’t think Tom is your soulmate.” He whispered, making your heart stop.
“I have to go.” You said quickly and tried to leave. Chris gently grabbed your arm to keep you there.
“Wait.” He pleaded. “Here me out.”
“I have no interest in hearing you out. Let me go, please.” You pulled your arm out of his grasp and turned to leave again.
“I can’t. You’re not supposed to be with him.” He said a little louder, making you freeze in place.
“Why do you care?” You asked as you whipped around.
“Normally I wouldn’t, but I think you’re supposed to be with me.” Chris said, and you felt the air get knocked out of your body. This was something you had suspected, but you ignored for your relationships sake. Now Chris had figured it out and your cover was blown.
“What?” You played dumb and walked back to him.
“I didn’t start aging until I met you.” He whispered. “And you looked 18 when we met.”
You didn’t want to lie to him, so you didn’t say anything. He was right, after all, so you hung your head in shame.
“Oh my God.” He realized. “You knew, didn’t you? You knew it was me.”
“Keep your voice down.” You whispered harshly as you looked for Tom. You sighed in relief when you saw he was still busy at the bar.
“We both started aging once we met.” He repeated. “This isn’t a coincidence.”
“Maybe not.” You shrugged. “But I love Tom. I’m supposed to be with Tom.”
“You want to be with Tom.” He corrected. “But you and I both know he is not your soulmate. And I bet he knows it too.”
“He does.” You sheepishly confirmed.
“This is not how this works.” Chris grew emotional. “You can’t play at and loose with the rules. You start aging once you meet your soulmate so the two of you can grow old together. Tom isn’t aging. Whats gonna happen when you’re 90 and he’s still 18? He is wasting his time by not looking for his soulmate. Meanwhile, you met your soulmate and you’re turning him down.”
“I don’t care if he’s not my soulmate.” You stated. “I still love him. And I don’t love you.”
Chris was taken aback by your bluntness and you felt a pang of guilt. You cleared your throat and fixed your hair to distract from the awkward tension you created.
“This isn’t fair.” He shook his head. “You’re my soulmate. Why does he get you? He has his own soulmate.”
“Tom doesn’t get me.” You said sharply. “I’m not a freaking trophy. I love him and I am choosing to be with him. I don’t care if it’s not fates design.”
“But I do.” Chris shot back. “Am I supposed to end up alone now?”
“Frankly, I don’t care what you do.” You said simply. “I already met the love of my life. Your love life doesn’t concern me.”
“You are my love life. This isn’t fair.” He repeated.
“Yeah?” You raised your eyebrows. “Well I don’t think it’s fair that my best friend from childhood is supposed to end up with someone else. And if we asked Tom right now, he wouldn’t think it’s fair that I’m supposed to end up with you.”
“He’s coming over here now.” Chris stared at something behind you. “Let’s ask him, shall we?”
“Don’t you dare.” You said through gritted teeth.
“Hi darling.” Tom came behind you and put his hand on the small of your back. “Hi, Chris, right?”
“Yeah.” Chris said blankly. “It’s great to meet you. Y/n talks about you all the time.”
You didn’t take your eyes off Chris, silently begging him not to say anything.
“Are you okay, love?” Tom asked once he noticed the ghastly look on your face.
“You want to tell him or should I?” Chris half smirked.
“Tell me what?” Tom looked between the two of you in growing confusion.
“You have no right.” Your voice wavered as tears came to your eyes.
“What’s going on?” Tom demanded. “What were you guys talking about?”
“Chris-“
“Y/n and I are soulmates.” Chris cut you off as his eyes shot daggers at Tom. Toms face shifted in surprise as he looked at you.
“What?” He asked softly. You took his face between your hands so all he could see was you.
“This doesn’t change how I feel about you Tom.” You assured him. “I told you, you’re the one that I want. This doesn’t have to change anything.”
“Did you know it was him?” Tom asked quietly, feeling slightly awkward since Chris was just a few feet away.
“I suspected it.” You admitted, and Tom pulled away from you.
“And you didn’t tell me?” He asked bitterly.
“I didn’t know for certain.” You said apologetically. “And it didn’t matter to me anyway. I still wanted to be with you.”
“How do you feel about all of this?” Tom turned to Chris suddenly.
“I feel betrayed by the woman who’s soul was cut from the same fabric as mine.” Chris said as he kept his eyes on you. “And I feel like I’m not getting whats rightfully mine.”
“Watch your mouth.” Tom snapped and stepped up to Chris. “Y/n is not rightfully yours. She is not a trophy that you won.”
You gave Chris a knowing look over Toms shoulder, since you gave the same argument. Chris stared at you as his jaw tightened before returning his attention to Tom.
“Shes my soulmate.” Chris growled as he pushed Tom. “Not yours.”
“But she loves me.” Tom half smirked as he pushed him back. “Not you.”
Chris raised a fist as if he was about to hit Tom, so you quickly pulled Tom away.
“Don’t.” You held up a hand. “Fighting isn’t going to solve this.”
“Do you care about what you’re doing?” Chris pointed an angry finger at Tom. “You’re leaving me and your soulmate to die alone.”
“But I wouldn’t love her. I already love Y/n.” Tom answered. “Isn’t it better to be alone than unloved?”
“That’s how I’m living right now, and it’s not better.” Chris seethed.
“I’m sorry about that.” Tom apologized as he calmed down. “But Y/n and I love each other. We always have.”
“I love her too.” Chris pointed to himself.
“We can still be friends.” You suggested. “We’ll still age together and-“
“I can’t be your friend knowing what we know.” Chris cut you off. “You and I are meant to be. How do you think this makes me feel? I was handmade for you, and you still don’t want me.”
You sighed as the guilt fully set in. In the excitement of finally getting together with Tom, you never considered your soulmates feelings.
“I’m sorry, Chris. I really am.” You told him. “But this is not about you. No matter who my soulmate was, I would’ve picked Tom.”
“Well I hope you’re happy.” He nodded in defeat. “I hope the two of you are just thrilled.”
“I’m sorry-“
“Don’t.” He interrupted. “I’m not gonna stand by and watch you with another man. I quit. Effective immediately.”
Chris walked away from you and Tom and went straight out the door. You watched him as he left with a sick feeling in your tummy. Even if you didn’t love him, you were meant to have some sort of relationship with him. You never wanted it hurt him, you just never wanted to be his soulmate.
“I’m sorry you had to see that.” You sighed and turned to Tom. “I didn’t know he was going to react like that.”
“It’s all right.” Tom rubbed your arm soothingly. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” You nodded and pulled him into a hug. “I just feel guilty. He deserves to be loved.”
“He will be.” Tom pulled away and kissed your forehead. “Just not by you.”
You stayed in his arms for a moment, letting his embrace comfort you.
“This might be a bad time” ,Tom cleared his throat and pulled away to look at you, “but I met my soulmate too.”
“What?” You blinked in confusion. “Who?”
“Her name is Este. She was just hired at the gym I go to. Look.” Tom put his head down and showed you a silver hair that had grown near his part. “She grew one too. She showed me.”
“Oh.” You said quietly. “Do you…do you like her?”
“She’s really nice and hates playing by the rules just as much as I do.” Tom smiled cheekily. “In fact, she invited us to dinner at her girlfriends place next week.”
“Girlfriend?” A smiled tugged at your lips.
“Yeah. I don’t think fate accounted for falling in love on your own free will.” Tom chuckled. “She really must be my soulmate, since we have so much in common. We both fell in love with our best friends and have no interest in dating the other.”
You let out a laugh at how funny fate could be and cupped Toms face.
“I can’t wait to meet her.” You smiled happily before kissing him. Your smiled faded once you pulled away when you remembered the problem wasn’t solved on all sides.
“What are we going to do about Chris?” You asked quietly as you chewed your lip.
“I don’t know.” Tom shrugged. “Este is my soulmate, but in a platonic way. Maybe you and Chris are just meant to be friends.”
“I don’t think he sees it that way.” You sighed. “He just quit to stay away from me.”
“If he’s anything like me, he won’t be able to stay away too long.” Tom cupped your chin. “He’ll come around.”
“I hope.” You nodded. “I feel so guilty.”
Tom got quiet for a moment and shifted his weight between his feet.
“If you wanted to explore things with Chris, I won’t stop you.” He said slowly. “I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life wondering if you were really supposed to be with him. I love you enough to let you walk away.”
You gave Tom a soft smile and pulled him into another kiss to thank him for what he was offering.
“I don’t need to explore.” You said against his lips. “I’m right where I’m supposed to be.”
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514 notes · View notes
weelittleweasley · 4 years
Text
guitar lesson (f.w.)
prompt: the band that the weasley siblings had formed brought new excitement to hogwarts. new music, new 
pairing: guitarist!fred weasley x fem! reader
warnings: language, allusions to sex (for like one second)
word count: 4.7k
a/n: this is literally just pure fluff. pure cute musical fluff.
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George groaned and halted his drumming, “Bloody hell, Ronald, it’s not that hard to get the chord progression right after the third time drilling the song!” he cried out before tucking a drumstick behind his ear. “We go from G to B minor to E minor back to B minor. What is so hard about that?” he scolds his brother who just rolls his eyes. “Do we want to get this right or not?” George looks to the rest of the band comprised of his other siblings.
Ron just retorted simply, “It’s the first time we’ve ran this song in weeks, George. Everyone is rusty. Just give it a rest. We’ll get it right next go. Besides, aren’t we due for a five?” he looks to his sister who gives him eager eyes and a nod, signaling they were in desperate need of a break. 
George scoffs at his younger brother and says, “No, you’ll get it right the next go. Which starts now. Ginny, from the chorus. Fred, keep the chords crunchy, it sounds better that way. Ron, don’t fuck it up. Ready?” George directs the band as they all sigh. 
They had only been in band practice for an hour and a half and George was already making it a living hell. Sure, it was his idea to form a band and it seemed like a great idea. It was a way to spend more time together, to make music, to meet new people, and blow off some steam. If anything, Fred was the first one to jump on the offer. He knew that it would be a way for his family to bond, but also a way for him to show off his guitar skills that he had been honing for the past few years. Fred had once said, “Ladies love musicians. Especially the guitarists.”
But now it seemed like the band, which once was a low-key, stress free environment has changed wildly. Almost overnight things took a rapid 360. George had managed to book a gig for their band, The Burrow Bangers, at Three Broomsticks for the next weekend. George had convinced Madam Rosmerta to let them have the whole building for the evening for the gig if they promised to bring in the people. Which would not be a problem. Students were itching to see the band of siblings play. But this meant high stakes for the Weasleys. A real gig, paying them real money, to play real music. All they had ever done before was fuck around and play random music that they thought was funny. But this? This was all very new and very different than what they were used to.
With a few strikes of his drumsticks, George yelled out, “A 1, 2, 3, 4!” And the band swelled with music, George keeping rhythm on the drum kit, Fred wailing on his guitar, Ron strumming on the bass, and Ginny belting into the mic.
“She’s a Killer Queen, gunpowder, gelatine, Dynamite with a laser beam. Guaranteed to blow your mind; anytime...” Ginny belted into the mic, her alto voice resonating throughout the room of requirement as Ron and Fred stared at each other, wondering when they would get a break. Fred looked concerned at Ginny who's voice was obviously getting tired from belting for an hour and a half with no water or bathroom break.
Fred drops his guitar and speaks, “Hold on, hold on!” The band fades slowly before George throws up his hands in protest, asking why they stopped. “Do you not hear Ginny’s voice? She’s tired. We’re all tired, Georgie. We’ve been working non-stop for next week’s gig. I don’t think a ten minute break is gonna kill us,” he protests.
George rolls his eyes, “None of you are taking this seriously. We are getting paid for this. People are coming to watch us. Don’t you wanna be decent?” George rises from his seat, searching the eyes of his siblings for some agreement. 
Instead, he’s met with concerned eyes and tired expressions. Ginny looked absolutely exhausted, Fred looked exasperated, and Ron was flat out fed up. But all were equally concerned as to why their brother was so gassed up over this gig. George sighs, “I-” Fred gives him a sympathetic smile. “Of course, we wanna be good, Georgie. But we need to balance things out. Let’s all take a break for a while. Reconvene tonight after some much needed rest and we’ll talk details of rehearsals then. Good?”
Ron eagerly nods his head before slipping the bass off from around his body. Ginny turns off the mic and starts out with Ron, talks of what was for dinner in the Great Hall. Fred approaches his twin and places a hand on his shoulder. “What’s bugging you?” he asks, knowing that this behavior wasn’t typical for George. It wasn’t like George to get serious all of a sudden and push everyone to work without a break. Something was up and Fred could read it all over his brother’s face. 
Defeated, George sighs. “I don’t know, Fred. I guess I’m getting myself all worked up because I invited Angelina to the show and I wanted to ask to be my girlfriend and I guess I just want things to be perfect for her in a way.” Fred gives his brother a knowing look, wiggling his eyebrows. “Oh, shut it, you dickhead,” George laughs, pushing his brother’s shoulder. “You’d do the same if you fancied someone,” he teases Fred as his twin shrugs. “Freddie...you don’t mean to tell me no girl has walked up to you and has told you how hot it was that you played lead guitar in Hogwarts’ premiere band?” he teases.
Fred laughs, “Can’t say anyone has...yet.”
This makes George laugh and shake his brother’s shoulders. “That’s the spirit,” George slings his arm over Fred’s shoulder. The two twins carry back their band equipment as they make their way to the Gryffindor common room. “Seriously, Freddie, I bet I can set you up with one of Angie’s friends. I’ll tell Angie to bring her to the show and she can see just how sexy you look fingering those strings,” George alludes as Fred chuckles. 
“Nah, mate, I don’t wanna just have a set up of a date. I want to naturally meet a girl, you know?” Fred tells his twin as George rolls his eyes. Fred was always a hopeless romantic deep down. Although he had some flings in the past and had his fun with shagging a few girls casually here and there, Fred was looking for something more serious now. Someone he could connect with. “I’m not expecting for the perfect girl to be right around the corner, Georgie, but I’m not expecting her to be a-”
Fred stops mid sentence as he feels his body collide with another body as they walk around the corner of the hallway, making Fred and the person he had bumped into stumble back a bit. “Godric, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t pay attention to where I was going,” Fred looks around at the sheet music that was now cast about the floor. “Did I make you drop anything?” Fred asks, now looking up at a pair of eyes that made his heart skip a beat.
There you stood, a little flustered, in a hurry on your way to the library. You were late for a study group with some of your friends from your Charms class and it would be your third time late this week. If you were late again, they would surely give you shit for it. But as you took in who was causing you to run late, you suddenly didn’t mind. “Uh,” you gulp, “I’m alright, don’t worry. I should have watched where I was going. Now I’ve made quite the mess, haven’t I?” you lightly laugh as you crouch down to help him pick up the miscellaneous pieces of sheet music.
Fred joins you on the floor, picking up the scattered sheets. “It’s equally our mess,” Fred gives you a soft smile as you blush lightly. 
Fred looks up at George who wiggles his brows as if to say Oh La-La! before he winks at his brother. “Oh, hey (Y/N),” George speaks before continuing to walk down the hallway, giving his dear twin some privacy. Fred shoot his brother a look to say, Mate, what the fuck? 
“Hey, Georgie,” you laugh. The two of you continue to pick up the pieces of parchment as you inspect the scribbling on them to be the treble clef. “You’re a musician?” you ask him, referring to the sheets. Fred nods. “What instrument?”
“Guitar,” Fred beams as you widen your eyes and nod. “I’m actually in a band with George and my other siblings,” he tells you. “I didn’t know you were friends with George.”
You hand him a small pile of sheet music before you both rise to your feet. “Yeah, George and I have been friends for a little while. I helped tutor him in Divinations class,” you tell Fred who nods. Fred mentally yells that he wishes George would have told him that he was friends with an absolute stunner of a girl. “I didn’t know that you and George were in a band. That’s really cool,” you tell Fred with a smile.
As you stand before Fred Weasley, you hope he doesn’t know how flustered you were. You had always seen him in the halls with George and admired how charming and handsome he was from a far, but never said anything to him. You could have easily told George that you had a thing for his twin, but you were far too nervous to act on your little crush. You clutched your textbooks closer to your chest as Fred fixed the strap of his guitar on his chest, muscles flexing underneath his shirt as your eyes darting to watch them tug against the thin shirt material. 
Fred spoke, “We started the band a couple of months ago. So it’s a pretty recent development.”
You nod your head and awkwardly stand before him before realizing that you were just staring at Fred’s face, admiring how his lips curled into a little smirk when he looked at you. Clearing your throat, you breathe, “Wicked.” Fred chuckles. “I’ve always been fascinated by musicians. I wanted to teach myself how to play guitar, but I’ve never gotten around to it,” you word vomit, instantly regretting the words coming out of your mouth. Damn it, (Y/N), you might as well just tell him your life story, you think to yourself. 
With a cheeky smile, you watch Fred’s face light up. “I could teach you,” he suggest as your eyes widen. Fred immediately back pedals. “If you want! I mean, Godric knows that you are probably very busy, but if you ever wanted an instructor, I wouldn’t mind giving you lessons,” he retorts as you can’t help but have a lazy smile appear on your lips. Fred’s heart skips another beat as he gulps. “That’s only if you’d like me to teach you, (Y/N).”
The way he spoke your name made your stomach erupt with butterflies. His voice was like honey as words parted from his lips, the sweetest sounds you have ever heard. You watched his eyes as they looked into yours, monitoring how you reacted to his proposal. 
Guitar lessons with Fred Weasley? You would have to be mental if you said no. With a meek smile and you reply, “You really don’t have to, Fred.”
“I want to,” he jumps before clearing his throat, realizing how quickly he answered, making you giggle as Fred blushes a deep red that matched his hair. “I would like to teach you, (Y/N).”
With a nod, you say, “I’d like you to teach me.” 
Fred smiles widely. “Wicked,” he breathes out as you look away from his gaze to hide your rosy cheeks. “Just one catch,” he smirks as you furrow your brows. “You have to come to our show next week. At Three Broomsticks. And bring friends.”
Extending your hand, you tease him, “You’ve got a deal.” Fred shakes your hand firmly as you laugh. “I’ll see you around, Fred.”
You start down the opposite direction before Fred calls out. “First lesson is on Thursday! 4pm sharp,” Fred says as you flip around to look at him. “Tardiness is not tolerated,” he winks at you as you roll your eyes before walking away to the library.
As you walked down the corridors, you could help but smile to yourself. Your cheeks tingled from your large grin as you toyed with the edges of your books. The thought of Fred Weasley’s hands guiding yours as he taught you how to play guitar made your heart giddy. You nibbled on your bottom lip at the thought that danced around your head. Suddenly, you didn’t care how late you were to this study group.
----------------
Thursday rolled around slowly, but surely and Fred was checking himself out in the mirror, combing his fingers through his red hair, brushing the pieces out of his face. He nervously looked at himself in the mirror. Should he have shaved? Was he wearing too much cologne? Should he brush his teeth for a third time?
He frantically ran around his dormitory room, thinking he should change his shirt again. Maybe you liked the color green better than blue. As if the color of his shirt would determine the outcome of this lesson/date. Fred didn’t even know if he could count this as a date. 
George tapped out rhythms on his bed frame, watching Fred change his shirt for the fourth time as he shook his head. “Freddie, mate, are you really sweating that much?” he laughed.
Fred shot his twin a dirty look. “No,” he spat. “I just...I like the green better than the blue,” he lied, pulling the green shirt over his head and down his torso. Fred darted to his bed and grabbed his guitar and checked the time on his watch. He had ten minutes. “Good Godric,” he huffed.
“You alright? Haven’t seen you this shaken up since the time you thought you ate puking pastilles before your O.W.L.s,” George laughed as he tapped away on his bed frame. 
Fred nervously tapped on his thighs, “I’m fine, George. I, uh, I’m giving (Y/N) a guitar lesson today,” he reveals to his twin who's eyes widen and chuckles, “It’s just a lesson. Nothing else. But I’m bloody nervous about it.”
Sitting up, George speaks, “You got nothing to worry about, mate.” He walks over to Fred and places reassuring hands on Fred’s shoulders. “(Y/N)s a great girl. She’s sweet and funny and proper fit,” George raises his brows as Fred groans. “I’m teasing you, Freddie, calm down. You’ve got nothing to lose. Now get down there and make her swoon.”
Fred was never nervous for dates or flirting with girls. All of that stuff came naturally to him. But for some reason the thought of you was enough to make his stomach do somersaults. The palms of his hands got sweaty when your name was spoken. There was something about you that made Fred Weasley lose his senses and that was hard to do. 
Shaking it off, Fred huffs and leaves the dormitory making his way down to the common room. With each step he descended, his heart beat harder and faster against his rib cage. As he came down the stairs, your figure came into view which only made Fred’s mouth dry with anxiousness and excitement. He took a deep breath in and exhaled in attempt to calm himself down. I got this, she’s just a girl, he thought to himself. “4:00 on the dot,” Fred speaks, getting your attention, causing you to turn around to face him with a smile on your lips. “Very punctual, (Y/L/N).”
You take a good look at Fred and think about how effortlessly good he looked. Hunter green t-shirt hung on his tall frame perfectly as he walked over to where you sat on the couch, acoustic guitar in his hands. “Not to toot my own horn, but I was here at 3:55, Weasley,” you joke as he smiles. “Early is on time and on time is late.”
Fred chuckles, “In that case, pardon me for my tardiness. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive someone as foolish as me.”
His smile made your heart flutter and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. His joy was infectious. How could someone be so addictive? “Hmmm,” you pretend to think, “You’re lucky I’m such a kind and forgiving person.”
Fred places a hand over his heart and feigns relief. “Thank Merlin,” he fans himself as you chuckle. “Alright. You ready to get started?” he asks as you nod your head. “Brilliant, let’s start with the basics...”
After an hour of trial and error, you had managed to learned some chord progressions and strumming techniques from Fred. You had to give it to him; he was a great teacher. He was patient and smart and knowledgable. Not to mention, you loved listening to him talk about music and how passionate he was about playing. When he talked, he spoke with so much heart and life, it made you gently smile as you watched how animated he became. Fred Weasley really was one of a kind. 
You were nearing the end of your lesson as Fred showed you how to play an F chord on the guitar. “Best chord,” he spoke as you looked at him quizzically. “F is for Fred, keep up (Y/N),” he teases making you scoff. 
He explained the finger placements as you struggled to get it just right. “Wait, my second finger goes where?” you ask again as Fred points to the third string. You adjust and strum as an off-key chord resonates. “Now, that can’t be right,” you laugh as Fred shakes his head.
Fred gets up and moves from the chair in front of you to the seat next to you on the couch. He looks at you and asks, “May I?” He gestures to placing his hand on yours as you shake your head.
Gently, Fred places his hand on yours that holds the neck of the guitar as the other hand rests on your other elbow. Having his body is such close proximity to yours made your breath hitch in your throat as you felt his chest press against your back. Fred’s fingers adjust your placement carefully as if you were made of glass, trying his hardest not to make you break into a thousand bits. “This finger goes on the third string and this one stays on the second,” he lowly instructs. “And now, strum,” he speaks, a smile in his voice.
And so you do, a soft F chord playing as the strings underneath your fingertips hum sweetly. You two let the sound ring a little bit, either one of you not daring to breathe, scared to say or do anything. Just the position that you were in, his hands on yours, his chin resting near your shoulder, your back pressed against his chest. You gulped and exhaled softly. “Pretty,” you smiled.
Fred chuckled softly. “Yes, you are,” he spoke making your heart stop, wondering if he had just spoken those words. 
You turn to face him, a questioning look in your eyes as Fred allows a small smirk to dance on his lips. Cheeky bastard, you think to yourself as you smile at him. 
The two of you remain in this position, looking into each other’s eyes for a moment. Fred’s eyes were a rich brown, like pools of chocolate melting under the summer sun. His eyes were full of playfulness and cheer which made joy course through your veins. Fred Weasley was special. 
You didn’t even realize that he was leaning in until his forehead was pressed against yours and you connected the gap between you two, connecting your lips in a gentle kiss. As you kissed, he inhaled deeply, cupping your cheek with his hand, bringing you closer to him. His hands were calloused from the guitar strings as they pressed against your soft cheek. You pressed your lips onto his harder as Fred smiled gently into the kiss, enjoying every moment. You were first to pull away, but it didn’t last long, Fred’s lips following yours for another kiss as you giggled lightly. His lips were soft and tasted of sweet cinnamon and you wanted more, like your own drug. 
Fred gently pulled away before speaking, “I have a confession.” You hum in response. “I was planning on kissing you this whole time. I was just trying to find a good excuse to sit next to you,” he confessed.
You smiled involuntarily and laughed. “I believe that,” you speak before placing another kiss to his lips quickly. “I also have a confession,” you bite your lip as Fred looks at you confused. 
Scooting back a little, you cradle the guitar in your grasp before skillfully strumming a combination of chords that could be recognized as the beginning chords of I’m Looking Through You by The Beatles. Fred’s mouth goes agape and eyes wide as you play better than he could ever. “I lied about not knowing how to play the guitar,” you laughed. “I’ve known how to play since I was ten. I just wanted an excuse to see you again.”
Fred shakes his head in disbelief. “You sneak!” he exclaims. “A woman after my own heart,” he jokes as you laugh before he kisses your cheek. “Well, I guess you don’t need anymore lesson from a git like me. But I still think you should hold up your end of the deal,” he squeezes your hand.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Weasley,” you smile. “Although, I will be coyly judging your skills from the audience.”
Fred laughs, “I’m sure you will be, darling.”
----------------
After days of rehearsing and planning and scheduling and rehearsing some more, the gig at the Three Broomsticks rolled around. Ginny had managed to convinced the entirety of the Hogwarts quidditch league to come out which already filled the Three Broomsticks at half capacity. But getting more people to come wasn’t a problem. The promise of good music and Butterbeer was enough to have swarms of students flow into the small building. 
The Three Broomsticks was soon teeming with people, chatting and drinking and laughing. The energy was high and the Weasleys could feel it from their make shift backstage (which was quite literally a curtain that Ron managed to pin up). 
However, this meant that expectations were high which in turn made the band exceptionally nervous. Ginny nervously danced around, doing lip trills to warm up her voice as Ron tuned the bass. George sat at his drumming seat and ran over rhythms in his head, Fred pacing back and forth, biting on his nails.
You shuffled through the audience and found Harry and Hermione sitting at a table in the front as you approached them. You could hear Hermione gush about how hard Ron has been practicing for the gig, a rosy hue forming on her cheeks as Harry poked at her crush. As you approach, Hermione notices you and beams, “(Y/N)! Hi! Are you excited for the concert? You know Ron is playing bass?”
Harry rolls his eyes, “Did you know Hermione has a big, fat cru-”
“Shut it, Harry,” Hermione quickly snaps as you laugh. “Anyway, what’s up?”
You smile, “Do you know if Fred is with the others still? I know he was nervous about tonight and I just wanna make sure he’s doing alright.”
Harry looks at Hermione and then back at you. “Yeah, he’s back with the others,” he says as you nod, leaving. But before you can leave, Harry stops you, “Wait, hold on, I didn’t know that you and Fred were....” he looks for the words.
“We’re not officially together, but we’ve been seeing each other,” you confess with a smile. Hermione gives you a teasing glance as she sips on her Butterbeer and Harry nudges her with an ooh. “Oh please. You think you two are slick? Everyone knows Harry fancies Ginny and Hermione is practically head over heels for Ronald,” you teases as they both wear bright red cheeks. “Mhm, that’s what I thought,” you laugh. “I’ll see you both in a minute.” You make your way to the back of the Three Broomsticks, behind the curtain to find a nervous band of siblings. Ginny catches your glances first and a smirk comes onto her lips. “Oh, Freddie,” she sing songs. “You have a guest.”
Fred turns around to face you and relief washes over his face as your heart skips a beat. Fred looked good sporting dark wash jeans and a black henley. Simple, but Godric, it was enough to make you swoon. Fred grabbed your hand and walked you over to the corner for a little more privacy. “I’m glad to see your face,” he spoke before bending down to press a sweet kiss to your lips.
“I told you I wouldn’t miss it,” you squeeze his hand. “How are you feeling?”
He shrugs and gives you an awkward smile as you blurt out a laugh. “I don’t know,” he joins in. “Nervous? Excited? Weird? All three?” 
You reach up and brush his hair out of his face as he relaxes under your touch. Just the simple gesture was enough to calm him down instantly. “It’s alright to feel like that. You are gonna be bloody brilliant. All of you,” you tell him sincerely. “You’ve been working so hard and you are all so talented. You’re gonna knock the audience’s socks off. I have no doubt in my mind,” you encourage him.
Fred smiles and without another word, he pulls you in by your waist to press your lips to his. You wrap your arms around his neck as you kiss him sweetly. His lips are pressed against yours firmly, but sweetly with passion. His touch was enough to make your head reel. Fred pulls away and presses his forehead against yours, “I’m playing for you tonight. And only you.”
Your heart skips a beat as you smile, staring into his eyes with so much adoration. It had only been a week and a half since you had started seeing each other, but you couldn’t help but have the overwhelming feeling that Fred was the one for you. He was everything you could ever ask for. Charming, kind, handsome, funny, witty. Fred Weasley was it. 
“And I’ll be cheering you on the whole time,” you tell him, extending your pinky finger to him as he loops his with yours. The two of you press kisses to your thumbs, making it a pinky promise. “Now, go get ‘em, tiger,” you encourage him. As you walk away, Fred taps you bum playfully as you scurry away, back into the audience with Harry and Hermione. 
The three of you buzz about the band and the atmosphere, sipping on Butterbeer before suddenly the audience starts wildly cheering. You turn your attention to the make-shift stage and see the Weasleys all enter. You immediately start clapping and cheering for the band as Ginny speaks into the mic. “Hello, Hogsmeade!” she laughs as the crowd cheers louder. “We are the Burrow Bangers and tonight we’ve got quite the show for you all!” she exclaims as the audience claps and shouts out. You look over at Harry and a wide grin is plastered on his face. “So, without further ado...”
“1, 2, 3, 4!” George bangs on his drumsticks before 80s rock blares through the small inn, the crowd immediately cheering and dancing the sound of the music.
And you had to admit it. They were damn good. They were all in synch with each other and blended so well together. The Weasleys were performers no matter how much they may hate it admit it. Not to mention, Fred looked hot wailing away on his cherry red electric guitar. His fingers skillfully strummed out chords and he musically added riffs when needed which made the crowd roar. 
You were overwhelmed with pride at the boy you had taken such a keen liking to you and it was palpable. Fred would catch your eyes every now and then and drop his left eye into a wink, making you blush and cheer louder for him.
Tonight, and every night following, he played for you and you only.
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Steve x Pregnant!Reader x Tony x Loki "Y/N!" 2/2
Warning(s): Cursing
Note(s): This is the chapter where the gender and father of the baby is revealed •This was semi-proof read
Pairing(s): Tony x F!Reader; Steve x F!Reader; Loki x Reader (You know how he appears out of no where)
— Tony's P.O.V. —
I looked over at Steve and sighed softly. He wasn't angry at me like I expected him to be. He was broken and I saw it in his eyes. I felt a pain in my chest. Was I having a heart attack? Am I feeling guilt? This is all so new.
-Well guilt. Not the heart attack.
I looked over at Steve, he's been quiet all day. I've been trying to talk to him to hear any news about Y/N and the baby, but he just wouldn't talk to me. He wouldn't talk to anyone.
It was lunch time, Steve still stayed to himself. I walked over to him and put my drink down, slamming it a bit to demand attention.
The blonde stayed quiet and looked down at his food.
"Where is she?" I asked him.
"Who is she?" Steve asked in monotone.
"You know exactly who- Where is Y/N?" I asked him again.
Steve looked at me. "Haven't you done enough? She left me and you know this. Why do you wanna know? Are you gonna run off with her and the kid?"
"I don't...I don't know." I said and looked down.
I wanted to text Y/N, but it seemed liked she blocked herself from the rest of the world. Maybe it is time I called her, it's been three months.
— Y/N's P.O.V. —
God I missed Steve so much. I miss waking up in the morning with his arms wrapped around my waist and my face pressed against his chest.
I constantly ask myself why I chose to run off with Tony of all people. I've been talking to my therapist and she told me to put my past behind and to focus on my own health and the health of my baby, but I just can't stop thinking about it.
I sat on the couch in my new apartment, I moved in here about two months ago, when I ran off, I stayed at my cousin's place for a while since he was generous to let me stay.
I looked at the tv and went to find the remote. My phone started ringing, Tony was calling. I sighed and worked up the courage to pick up the vibrating iPhone.
"Y-Y/N?" Tony asked. He sounded nervous and scared at first as if he called the wrong number.
"Tony. Hey." I said softly.
"Y/N how are you?" Tony asked.
"I'm good..why'd you wait three months to contact me?" I asked him, "Never changed my number."
"I just thought you didn't want to hear from me again. I thought you cut yourself off from the rest of us. I want to be there for you. I want to help you." Tony said.
I sighed softly, "Tony. I can't. I don't even know who's baby it is. I can't have you taking care for me and it ends up to be Steve's."
"Still can't believe Steve's not a virgin." Tony mumbled softly.
I rolled my eyes, "So..you care about me?" I asked him, my voice soft, I didn't believe him.
"Yes, I do. I'm sorry. It's my fault you're even in this mess. I shouldn't have gotten so close to you." Tony sighed.
"It's no more your fault than it is mine. I betrayed Steve and I broke him. Is he still upset?" I asked.
"Yeah. He finally spoke to me today when I asked about you. He's in...he's in a bitchy mood, maybe you can come down and cheer him up?" Tony suggested.
"I am the last person that Steve would want to see." I scoffed and rolled my eyes, I had to be crazy if I thought Steve would want to see me after what I did.
"I think you're wrong. Please Y/N? For me?"
"No, Tony." I pulled the phone away, about to hang up.
"Y/N! Please." Tony pleaded, "Steve isn't himself snd I feel like he really needs you. I feel guilty. It's so weird and right now I just feel like I have to make everything right again. Please.."
"Tony, I'm sorry. I just don't think this is a good idea..." I sighed softly. I hung up and looked down at my phone.
A tear rolled from my eye and landed violently onto my phone. I looked at the splattered tear snd decided to text Steve.
— Steve's P.O.V. —
My brain hurts. It's been driving me crazy for the past couple of months. How did I not see this coming? Tony out of all people, I should've expected this.
I should've limited their time together. I should've been there more for Y/N. I know this all started because of me. To be fair, I thought she needed more space. I guess she needed less.
My phone started to light up. Y/N just texted me to see if I'm alright.
I scoffed to myself. Three months for her to ask how I'm doing.
I feel like shit- I mean crap. I'm the bad guy and the victim at the same time. This is all so conflicting.
It seems like Tony now wants to be friends after what he did to me.
I was walking to the elevator to go to my floor and heard Tony cursing to himself. He was talking to Y/N, I don't even see the point as to why.
I heard his footsteps come my way. I felt the desperation and sadness in the air. I looked down at the man and saw his distraught face. "What's wrong, Stark?" I asked him.
"Y/N..I tried to make things right! I tried to get her to come see you since you've been in such a vegetative state lately." Tony said, "I'm sorry."
"Stop apologizing. It's been three months and it's annoying." I went in the elevator and hit the close button. The doors started to close then stopped, I looked at Tony as his foot stopped it. I rolled my eyes. "Don't you get it? Leave me alone."
"Steve, just listen." Tony said.
"Leave." I looked at him and started to glare.
Tony walked off.
Loki chuckled softly and walked off, he always appeared at the wrong time. Maybe he could be a possible candidate for the possible father of Y/N's baby.
"Not a chance." Loki looked at me then walked away.
I rolled my eyes and waited for the elevator to bring me to my floor.
One Month Later
I got a text, from Y/N. I opened it and saw a picture of a sonogram with the caption 'It's a boy.'
I smiled softly, I didn't realize was smiling until I looked away. I always wanted a son. I frowned softly when I realized that it may not even be my son.
I noticed how Tony has been helping Y/N out lately. She started to show her face more, it's a bit of a relief to see she didn't do anything destructive.
She's slowly made her way back into the tower. She's been embarrassed to show her face around Nat and Clint. Nat gave her a little talk then they went back to being friends and Clint was disappointed in her but he couldn't stay disappointed in her forever.
I walked into Tony's lab and saw Y/N sitting there suggesting baby names with Tony. I looked over at her. She looked up at me and smiled softly.
"Hey Steve." She smiled softly. "I have some news that I wanted to share with the both of you." She held out a manila folder with some papers inside.
"Is that the test results?" I asked her, she took a non-invasive paternity test so we didn't have to wait so long to see who the father was. She could've taken it at 7 weeks but as she mentioned recently, she was scared snd finally worked up the courage to go ahead and get it over with.
— Y/N's P.O.V. —
I nodded as Steve asked me about the papers that were inside the folder. The tension grew in the air. I knew Tony wanted it to be his baby and I knew that Steve wanted it to be his baby as well.
I would want it to be Tony because I know Tony's gonna show the kid love and he's going to try his best and pass on his 'legacy'. At the same time I want the baby to be Steve because Steve is such a gentle, patient, and caring person and I know he's going to be a great father someday.
I took a deep breath, a tear rolled down my eye, I looked at the result. "Steve..." I started to cry even more.
Steve walked towards me, concerned. "Y/N, It's okay."
"Steve. It's your baby. You're going to have a son." I sniffled.
Steve smiled and hugged me carefully and kissed my forehead, I hugged him tightly and buried my face in his chest, maybe we could potentially work on our relationship now.
I pulled away from the hug and looked at Tony who looked a bit sad. "Tony, you can always play with him and teach him about Iron Man and things like that.." I walked over to him and rubbed his back.
"It's not the same. What if I never have kids?" Tony asked dramatically, clearly he's had many false allegations about paternity and pregnancy scares before.
"D-Don't you have a teenage son?" I asked him.
"It's not the same." Tony said dramatically and went back to working.
"You can hold him when he gets here." I whispered in his ear.
Tony smiled softly, Steve heard what I said, "N-No."
"He's not going to drop him." I said.
"You don't know that." Steve said.
"Fantastic." I said while walking out of the room. I started to think to myself.
'I could've kept all of this a secret and Steve never would've known..' I bit my lip and went to pour myself juice.
"I agree." Loki said as he got off of the couch and out his book down.
I jumped and juice splattered a bit.
"Oops." He said emotionless. He smirked softly, "Why'd you doubt yourself? You really could have kept it all to yourself and continued your fun."
"Go away." I looked at my friend.
"Congratulations. You know some people consider pregnancy a disease?" Loki asked.
"You're a disease." I mumbled.
"You were having sex with a walking disease." Loki smirked as he mentioned Tony and ate a grape.
"That's a fake grape." I looked at him.
He spit it out then looked at me. "I-I knew that."
I smirked softly and rose a brow.
"You're mean." He stuck out his tongue and walked away to go finish his book.
I chuckled softly then looked at Steve. "Is Tony okay?"
"Yeah. He's a bit relieved. He wanted the baby to be his but he says he's free from responsibility." Steve said.
"He's going back to being a hoe I assume?" I chuckled softly.
"Hell yeah!" Tony said while grabbing his car keys.
— Three Years Later —
Steve and I were dating again. We were taking things slower. He was a great father and was there almost everyday for the first year of Alexander's life. He was definitely there for Alexander's first milestones and even taught Alex how to walk.
Sometimes Steve would stay the night when Alexander cried for him to stay. When Alexander turned two, Steve moved in and we've been almost a normal family ever since.
Alexander looked exactly like Steve but acted exactly like Tony. I let Tony babysit Alexander often, I knew Tony's personality was starting to rub off on my child, I let it slide, Tony acted a lot like a toddler so this was normal.
"What do you want for lunch?" I asked Alexander.
"Scotch." The child said and started to giggle.
Steve looked up from his laptop and looked at our son then at me for my reaction.
"I think it's officially time we talk to Tony." I tried my best not to laugh.
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Here to Misbehave (Pt. 17 | S.R.)
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Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Finale |
Summary: Spencer is concerned about Reader’s growing impulsiveness, but Reader is the one who gets a call from JJ asking if she can come get her boyfriend. Couple: Spencer/Fem!Reader 
 Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) 
 Content Warning: Discussions of drugs, death/dying, suicide, overdose; Alcohol, addiction, oral (male receiving), handjob, fingering, Daddy Kink, fights, PTSD, hospital talk, drunk smut w/ blanket consent Word Count: 12.5k
MASTERLIST
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When I opened the front door, I realized that I had returned to an empty home. I wasn’t sure which was weirder; the realization that the house was empty, or the fact that I was referring to her apartment as my home. It certainly had started to feel that way.
It never stopped being a shock that I would find a home in someone so quickly and with such little self-awareness. I'd certainly never suspected   that the house we’d be in would also be shared with several other people, all of whom were significantly younger than me and shared almost no similarities with me beyond our love for (y/n).
And even if it wasn’t the weirder of the two realizations, the fact that she wasn’t there was definitely the more troubling one. I tried to gather at least a little evidence before I called her; I wasn’t exactly excited about being blindsided again. Judging by the red solo cups that were scattered in the kitchen, I had an idea of how her friends had spent the night. The fact that no one was here led me to another conclusion that I desperately hoped was inaccurate.
Her phone rang four times before she picked up, which was strange in itself. When she did pick up, she sounded like I expected her to. Tired. Groggy.
“Hello?”
“Hey little girl, where are you?” I hoped she couldn’t hear the fumbling of my keys in my pocket, or any other sign of just how anxious I’d gotten in the last three minutes. “Oh. I’m sorry, Spencer, I forgot I was supposed to see you today.” She mumbled, sounding genuinely apologetic if not a little confused.
“You… forgot?” I repeated, quickly making my way over to the calendar hung on a bulletin board outside the kitchen, noting the nothingness over both the current and following week.
“Yeah, I guess I got carried away with school.”
She was lying. I couldn’t be for sure about what, but it was obvious. If she was really having that much trouble with classes, she would have told me. We’d gotten past the whole insecurity over me thinking she was stupid thing a long time ago, and she knew I would always let her learn it on her own if she didn’t want my help.
“... What are you not telling me?” I tried to make the words playful, although my hand was now nervously patting the side of my hip at an alarming rate.
“Nothing! I just got distracted. I’m... a little busy today so we should just meet up again next weekend.”
“A week?” I knew she was probably getting tired of me parroting her words, but that just seemed like a ludicrous amount of time. Usually, we went barely a day or two without seeing each other when I was in the city, cherishing the time together when I wasn't called away to attend to crimes halfway across the country.  
“What’s going on?” My voice was quickly falling into that register that warned her I was about to start profiling her, whether I wanted to or not. And unfortunately, she chose the worst possible reaction to that warning, further tipping me off to the fact that something wasn't quite right.
“Spencer, stop being weird.”
But I wasn’t. I knew that I could be weird; it’s kind of my thing. If you looked up weird in the dictionary, you wouldn’t find my name, but you’d definitely find a description that perfectly characterized my personality.
“You’re the one being weird. Turn on your camera.”
“I can’t. It’s dark in here.” She shot back her answer so quickly, I knew that she had already anticipated the request.
“Then move.” I ordered more than suggested. She understandably didn’t take kindly to my reaction, but I know she also knew why I was doing it. The excuses she was giving weren’t even well thought out.
“What is this? An interrogation?” She scoffed, “Do you think I’m cheating on you with barely dissolved stitches in my intestines?”
I took a deep breath, sitting down at the kitchen table still sticky with leftover sugary liquor and turned the phone onto speaker. “Turn it on.” This time, my voice broke with the order. As much as that didn’t make it sound authoritative, it did make her feel guilty.
As the screen lit up, it all made sense in the worst possible way. She was forcing a fake smile, her other hand resting against her face in a failed attempt to draw attention away from the the mottled skin of her left eye.
“I’m not cheating on you. Happy?” The words were sharp on her tongue, an anger in her features paired well with the understanding that I wasn’t wrong to be worried. I honestly think that was what bothered her the most – that she wanted it to be nothing, for me to be overreacting, but knew that it was a little more serious that she let on.  
“I’m definitely not happy. What happened?” I was already at the door by the time the sentence ended... She shut off her camera just as quickly, hearing the commotion from my side. “Where are you? I’m coming right now.”
She sighed, and I could see it clearly despite the fact that she wasn’t on my screen anymore. “I don’t want you to come here. Spencer, I’m fine.”
I might have believed her. I might have honestly given her the benefit of the doubt – let her lie to me a little, and just accept that a black eye wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened. Eventually, she would tell me how she got it, so I wouldn’t need to worry about it.
But it became very obvious very quickly that it was not just a black eye.
“Ms. (Y/l/n)?” A third voice announced in the background, accompanied by the distinct sound of an alarm sounding in the distance.
“... Are you in a hospital?!”
“For fucks sake. I hate dating a profiler.” She grumbled, implicitly admitting that my conclusion was right. She wouldn’t let me have another word, speedily slurring her goodbye. “I have to go, Spencer. I’ll call you later. Love you!”
—————————————————
Anyone who has spent a long time in inpatient knows that nosy nurses are both the best and worst kind of people to be assigned to your stay. They were the best because they always had the best gossip and would spend their precious little free time sharing stories about their lives that were always more entertaining than whatever poorly budgeted gameshow was on the old, staticky television.
They were the worst because one wrong move meant that you were the subject of gossip. And boy, were they good at getting it out of you.
“Trouble in paradise?” She sweetly hummed as she pushed my bed down the hall.
I wanted to tell her that there was trouble, and that it was through no fault of my own. If the other people in the hospital didn’t have the audacity to be sick at the same time that I needed a CT scan, then I wouldn’t have even still been here. I could have been back at home, where… well, I guess Spencer would have figured it out either way.
“Yeah, I guess.” I sadly admitted, playing with the string of my gown. “He’s just a worrywart.”
The woman had that glimmer in her eye, the kind that came from years of seeing the same stories over and over again. Although, I had a hard time believing she’d ever been in this exact scenario, I guess they were all kind of the same after a while, semantics aside.
“Well, that makes sense considering your current state.” It was more of a reprimand than anything else, and I audibly groaned to try and get her to stop there. She didn’t, though, having spent enough time with me to know I needed to hear it. “You were very lucky, you know. If things had been even just a little bit different…”
Couldn’t you say that about everything? If things had been even just a little bit different, I never would have met Spencer in the first place. We never would have fallen in love or fought or done any of it at all.
I didn’t like thinking about that. I didn’t like even considering a life without Spencer. No matter how much pain I’d been through, or what traumatic memories were dug up, they were worth it.
That’s what she wanted me to realize, and she had succeeded. Suddenly, as we turned into the room, I was overcome with guilt at the way I’d ended my conversation with him.
The nurse knew it, too, because as she transferred me onto the scanner, she smiled. “I’m just saying, sweetheart. If he woke up next to your hospital bed last time, I understand why he’d be scared.”
Chewing on my lips, I thought about the last time I was in a hospital. I thought about how Spencer had curled his giant lanky body onto the bed and barely slept for 2 weeks. I could see the way his eyes got more sunken by the day, but never stopped shining with relief. I could hear him chewing on ice because he didn’t want to leave to grab food until after I’d woken up, and the cold would distract him from just how hungry he was.
“He must love you an awful lot to be that worried.”
I hated when they did that; when they read my mind and said exactly what I was thinking.
“Yeah, I know.” I tried to smile. It was hard with the stabbing pain in my stomach and the aching in the entire left side of my face, but I managed. It was just one of those things where if I thought of Spencer, my body had to react. It was as natural as breathing.
Which, speaking of…
“Take a deep breath in.” The technician alerted me from the speaker.
The high pitched whines of the CT scanner weren’t as obnoxious as the MRI machine. I was silently grateful that they were still too scared to use the giant magnet. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to be stuck in a confined space, listening to loud banging that sounded too much like gun shots for my comfort.
Even just the thought made me nauseous. I felt like a baby, to have such a strong reaction to something so stupid. I’d been in an MRI before. I was a in a hospital. Nothing bad was going to happen to me, and I knew that.
But even now, in a machine that made virtually no noise and barely covered half my body, I wasn’t able to hold in a breath. Each time I tried, it felt like I was choking on Spencer’s lap again. The stinging in my stomach felt so much stronger, even though I knew it was healed.
The world felt like it was closing in on me, and every second that passed felt like days. I couldn’t even trust myself to guess how long it took for them to get images that should have taken no longer than 5 minutes.
I felt like such a burden. Like I was in their way. Like I was doing it wrong. Like I was a little kid, thinking that she knew what she was doing and could do it on her own.
I wanted Spencer.
That was the only thing I could think, and although it should have been comforting, it just left me feeling empty. The thought of him wasn’t enough to stop the tears streaming down my cheeks. The hands of the nurses trying to calm me down didn’t help, either. They felt wrong. They felt cold.
I just wanted Spencer. I wanted him to be there to hold my hand and distract me from my own thoughts. I wanted him to replace them with other things, like he'd promised me. I wanted to make new memories far away from here.
But I couldn’t. I was an idiot and I’d gotten myself back in the hospital, and he wasn’t here because I told him I didn’t want him to be. Why had I told him that? There was no reason that made any sense.
Once we finally did get out of the damn radiology department, I could still only barely function. The ride back to my room was much quieter, and the nurse didn’t meddle anymore. Gossip was only fun when it didn’t hurt like this.
Again, I couldn’t trust myself to guess how long I’d been in the CT scanner, but as we crossed back into my room, an overwhelming sensation of relief washed over me when I saw his satchel in the seat beside my bed. I hated the knowledge that I’d wasted 45 minutes of the technician’s time, but I was just so fucking happy that he had actually come.
Being alone in my room wasn’t a big deal anymore, because I knew it was only temporary. So as soon as I could, I sat up and waited patiently for my favorite mop of curly brown hair to peek around the corner.
He didn’t disappoint. He rarely did.
“Hey little girl.”
All the tension melted from my muscles, my head finally resting against the pillow with a dopey smile on my face. “Spencer.” I sighed, holding my hand out to him to usher him closer.
He gladly took the invitation, taking wide steps so he could be with me sooner.
“You shouldn’t be here.” I grumbled, flicking him on the arm while I locked our hands together. “But I’m glad you are.”
It was obvious from the way he let out a deep breath that he was also relieved to see that I wasn’t angry at him for coming. However, that’s also where his relief stopped. Because he’d seen me an hour prior and knew that I hadn't been crying then. But now, on top of the black eye, he saw the red rimming my sclera.
Taking my hand into both of his, he pressed a hard kiss against the back of it. Without looking up, he muttered into the skin a sad plea.
“Talk to me.”
“About what?” I asked, pulling back on my hand so he would stop with the shameless display of romance in such an awful place.
“Whatever’s going on.” He paused, but was clearly unhappy with the open ended question, and just as quickly specified, “What happened last night?
Unfortunately, I still wasn’t in the giving mood, even when it was information, and even if the person begging me for it was the boyfriend that I’d just cried for in the CT Scanner. If anything, that almost made it worse.
I hated feeling like this. Vulnerable.
“Nothing.”
Spencer was getting fed up, but it was like I couldn’t stop myself from fighting with him. I didn’t want to. I wanted to tell him that I needed him to take care of me and ask him to hold me while I cried on his shoulder about nothing at all, but I couldn’t. He would do it in a heartbeat, but I couldn’t ask him to. I couldn’t ask him for anything.
I couldn’t need anything without feeling too horribly guilty.
“Please don’t lie to me.” He was begging again, looking up at me with those impossibly warm amber eyes. He smiled when he saw the way my lips curled at the sight of him, unable to be angry for too long.
“Am I not allowed to have any stories for myself?” I joked, reaching forward to poke his face. Instead of moving away to avoid my hand, he leaned into the touch.
“You can. I just...”
“I know. You’re worried.” I responded with an exasperated sigh, rolling my head back. I could still feel him watching me, though, with a precarious smile, happy to see my spirits relatively high while also being deeply unhappy about the circumstances.
Wanting to see that full, confident smile again, I realized I didn’t have much of a choice. I’m sure that whatever he’d come up with in his head was much more sinister than what had actually happened.
“Fine. Stop looking at me like that.” I mumbled, gesturing to the childlike pout and laughing when he sucked his lips into his mouth in an attempt to follow my direction. I was glad he was still in a joking mood, because I had a feeling it would disappear as soon as I started talking.
I took a deep breath, looking up and away before I began my explanation of the stupidest night.
“I went out for drinks with my friends–”
“Drinks?!”
It hadn’t even been five seconds and he’d already cut me off. I couldn’t blame him, but it was so freaking annoying. This was exactly why I hadn't told him. Well, that and the fact he could get in serious trouble.
“I didn’t have any! Geez. Chill out.” I yelled back, chuckling a little bit at the conflicting looks of terror and relief. Because while he obviously believed that I didn’t drink any myself, it gave ugly context to the nightmarish guesses his mind had concocted.
“And everything was fine. We were on our way home. But then some asshole started messing with my friend. And she was way too drunk and started crying.” I was groaning internally the whole time, thinking about all the different ways this whole situation could have been avoided. Honestly, I don’t know why she had decided to try and square up with a cat caller when she knew damn well that she would start crying the second he raised his voice.
Which, of course, he had.  
“So, I told the guy to fuck off. And he did not like it.”
There was a powerful rage boiling under the surface of Spencer’s skin, which was only betrayed by his clenched jaw and the sheets scrunched under his hand. “Did they arrest him?” He said, trying to calm the trembling in his voice. He wasn’t angry at me for being a victim, even if he was probably a little annoyed that I went out without telling him.
Not like he was even in the state, anyway.
“I didn’t press charges.”
He took a deep breath, clearly about to tell me that I was stupid for not holding him accountable. That I could’ve gotten hurt and he would’ve gotten away with it. That I could’ve died if he’d hurt me the wrong way.
I didn’t want to hear it.
“Stop. I didn’t want to go to court, and I’m fine. I didn’t even need invasive surgery again.”
Spencer was still angry but trying to settle himself down before he spoke. He could hardly even look at me, his hand leaving the bed to run through his hair and shake his keys in his pockets.
I wanted to tell him that the tension of silence was worse than if he’d just raised his voice at me, but I couldn’t even gather the energy to do that. My body and mind seemed resigned to their current state; they’d just given up.
“(Y/n)...” He started, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up at the use of my name. They didn’t retreat, especially not when he dragged a chair over to my bedside, sitting down and placing a gentle hand over mine again.
“Are you okay?”
It was so sincere. So pure, so unforgivably kind. My hand that had felt paralyzed seconds earlier twitched under his. “I just told you.” I shrugged, fighting the urge to pull my arm away again. I wanted him here. I wanted him to touch me.
So why did it hurt? Why did everything hurt?
“That’s not what I’m worried about.” His voice broke, and I saw the way he was holding back tears with his tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth. He was biting back so many things he didn’t want me to know.
But again, I was too tired to fight it. So instead, I said nothing.
“It doesn’t take a profiler to see you’re hurting.” He continued, urging me to give him anything to work with. “How can I make it better?”
He just wanted to help. Why couldn’t I let him help?
“I’m fine. Nothing even happened to me.” My throat tried to reject the words, my brain screaming at me that they were fundamentally untrue. But my heart hurt, pounding louder in my chest to tell me that the logic was wrong. Because I was a big girl, and I shouldn’t be scared by things that already happened.
I’m safe, right? I don’t need to be scared, right?
Spencer could see the panic on my face because I couldn’t even have hid it if I'd wanted to. And my brain was telling me to not to. It told me that I needed to talk to him, to let him listen.
“That’s not true. You’ve been through a lot.” He bargained, trying to locate that little voice in my head with his offerings. He wanted to pull that small part of me out and force it to talk so that we might finally be able to start to move on.
“You go through worse every day.”
‘It’s common for patients suffering from PTSD to minimize their suffering or compare it to others. It’s a completely normal response, but I want you to try to resist belittling your own feelings. They’re yours, and no one else’s. Okay, sweetheart?’
The voice was so clear in my head, my body jerked in response. I looked around the room, looking for any sign of the man who’d told me them first. But he wasn’t here; he hadn’t been here for some time.
“Do you know how many profilers I’ve seen leave in my time at the bureau?” Spencer distracted me from the thought. He probably figured my flashbacks were more sinister than what they actually were. As upsetting as they had once been, hearing my dad’s voice in my head was usually oddly soothing.
“No.” I answered blankly, trying to pay all attention to the man who was still here.
“Four. And I’ve considered it myself.” There was a soft chuckle to hide the guilt in the admission.
I didn’t know why he felt bad for it; his job was so ridiculously difficult. On top of constantly having to rearrange his life on account of the various inextinguishable evils in the world, he had to face those evils every day and try to figure out their inner workings in order to thwart them. The only time I'd ever done that, I'd killed all three of them. Not the best track record.
“The first one, she... she reminds me a lot of you.” The soft twinkling in his eyes, much like emotional music in the movies, alerted me that a backstory was coming. Based on the extent of just how nostalgic he was coming, I guessed that whatever he was about to say was deeply important to him.
However, I was fragile enough as it was, and I didn’t need to add jealousy to my current emotional repertoire. “Is this another JJ origin story? Cause I don’t think I can handle it.”
He laughed, shaking his head at the frustrated pout that formed on my face. “No,” He said quietly, taking a pregnant pause to formulate the story. “Her name was Elle.”
The story he told was woven well, although I expected no less. He told it passionately and with absolute sincerity. He told me about the woman who was one of the first people he'd bonded with on the team. The playful relationship he described was painted so vividly in my imagination.
I wanted to meet her. But by the end of the story, it was obvious that it wasn’t an option. He didn’t say anything about it, but from the far off look I could guess that he hadn’t seen her since that last day.
“She was like a sister to me, and to see her fall apart and not be able to do anything to help her... it was one of the worst feelings in the world.”
And I understood then, why he was worried about me the way he was. He was projecting his previous experience on me, but things were different with me. At least, that’s what I told myself. Realistically I should have been reminding myself that she'd had the training and resources to overcome her obstacles, whereas I was basically still a stupid kid. The prospect of facing the reality was too difficult though; I just shrugged it off.
“Well, I already killed the people who did this to me.” I chuckled.
Spencer did not appreciate my humor. There was an even stronger concern that flashed over his features, worried by my flippancy over the death of three human beings.
Fuck, I should feel worse about it than I do, shouldn’t I? But if I thought about it, then it hurt so badly. If I had to pick one, I would pick apathy every time. I would choose the emptiness before the ocean of remorse.
“I’m not worried about them.”
I had drifted away from him again, and the sentence forced me to look at him.
‘I’m not worried about them. I’m worried about you.’
I’d said that before. Those were my words.
I pulled my hand back from Spencer, rubbing my forehead with both hands before wincing at the sharp pain around my eye socket. It took me a minute to focus on the sentence and dive deeper into its implications. But once I remembered why it instilled such a visceral reaction, I nearly gagged on the words.
“Wait, you think I’m going to kill myself?”
“I didn’t say that.” He quickly responded in the most defensive manner possible. If that was his attempt to calm me down, it did not work. It only pissed me off even more.
Because there was only one reason why he would think I was going to kill myself. I hadn’t given him any reason to believe that was a risk. Yeah, sure, I was being reckless and impulsive, but I was a teenager!
“Why would you think that?” I demanded an answer, and he was immediately hesitant to provide one. It was all the evidence I needed to reach my conclusion. “Don’t lie to me, Spencer Reid. You asked Hotch, didn’t you?”
He sighed, leaning back in his chair now that it was obvious, I wasn’t going to want him to touch me. “Yeah, I did.”
“You told me you wouldn’t, Spencer! You promised!” I ground the words out between my teeth, hoping he understood just how much I was holding back my volume.
He looked over at the screen monitoring my heart, noting the way the spikes appeared at an exponentially faster rate. “I know.” He whispered with an evident guilt.
“What did he tell you?” I hated the way my voice shrank with my shoulders, my body insisting that I assume to the smallest position I could. Because as much as I hated that Spencer had asked when he told me he wouldn’t, I was desperate for the information.
I’d always wanted to see the files, to hear the story as they knew it. I wanted to know what happened, and this was probably the closest I’d ever come to that, unless that whole Ouija board thing is real.
“Probably the same stuff that you already know.” He knew he was disappointing me. He shouldn’t have felt as bad about that as he did, but I’d take the implicit apology for what it was.
“Tell me anyway.”
Spencer should have been delighted to have the opportunity to talk at me for such a long time, but I also understood why he wasn’t. They weren’t the best topics of conversation, your ex-best friend and your girlfriend’s dead father. But he was a trooper and a skilled conversationalist, despite people not being able to understand that.
“He told me that there were several missions your father was a part of that ended controversially. That… he reported several violations that were never followed through on.”
The words so easily unlocked memories I had tightly and resolutely locked away, it was unsettling. I could hear my parents arguing about the philosophy of blame and responsibility. My dad always arguing that he couldn’t stand aside and let innocent people get hurt. My mom reminding him that he couldn’t save everyone.
‘We also get to see a lot of good.’ Spencer had said on our first not-a-date.
‘Yeah, but which do you see more of?’ I’d asked, and he’d avoided the question. I remembered seeing the question dance across his vision before he shut it out. He'd wondered why I was so confident in my conclusions.
“And the last mission…”
He didn’t have to wonder anymore.
“I saw the report.”
My breath was knocked from my lungs by an invisible fist to my damaged gut. I swallowed, trying to regulate my heart that was at risk of setting off the damn machine next to me. “What did it say?” I whispered, clutching onto the sheets and my gown, hoping it would be enough to keep me grounded.  
“Killed in action.”
“That’s fucking bullshit.” I barked, my brows furrowing regardless of just how badly it hurt to contort my face so badly.  “He didn’t– H-He wasn’t–“
“I know.” Spencer responded, a note of pity in his voice that made my face twitch in annoyance.
I turned to him with the same snarl, years of repressed anger resurfacing and wreaking even more havoc on my already destroyed life. “Do you? Do you know?”
“I mean, I can’t ever know for sure but… You weren’t the only one who felt that he...” He couldn’t say the word suicide, and for once, I was grateful. “It seems like all of his team had the same concerns.”
He was trying so hard to calm me down, to placate my fears and rage. He was sympathizing the best he could, but the truth was he would never be able to understand just how fucked up it was. He hadn't been there when it was happening, so the only thing he could do was try to slap a band-aid on a well-settled scar and hope that my not being able to see it made it hurt less.
“I’m sorry.” He uttered the two words cautiously, his heartbreak clear in his eyes. He had nothing to apologize for, but there he was, doing it anyway.
“For what?”
“That you’ll never have your answer.”
I don’t know what I expected him to say, but his answer took me by surprise. Of all the explanations I’d heard after an unnecessary platitudinous apology, I’d never heard that. And even worse, I’d never heard it in such a broken way, sounding for all the world like he believed he'd failed tremendously.
“I’m sorry that... that I couldn’t find it for you.”
I couldn’t stand the sight, and my hand found his cheek like it did so often, returning home to find that it was just a bit more stubbly than I remembered it. “It’s not your job, Spencer. We’re not one of your cases.” I assured him, running my thumb over the rough skin and remembering that he’d only just gotten home from exactly that: a case.
He did so much for me every day, but in the past few months he’d had to do so much more. And as much as I tried not to, I took him for granted so often. It was never as obvious to me as it was in that moment, when a tear slid down his cheek at the tenderness of my touch.  He always expected anger and pain. I didn’t want him to feel that way with me.
“But thank you for trying. I appreciate you.” I tried to throw my soul into the words as they formed on my tongue, but all that came out was a pathetic whimper. “I love you very much.”
“I love you, too.” He sighed into the small embrace, leaning his weight more heavily into my hand. Still holding back, he grimaced at the words he shared. “If I’m going to be honest, I looked something else up myself. Not on any FBI database just... old school research”
I wanted to act surprised, but it was the least shocking thing I’d heard in a while. So instead I just stared at him, with the closest I could come to boredom while still being interested in what he had to say.
“Yeah? What’d you find?” Finally settling into the inevitable resignation, I moved my hand up the side of his face to tangle in his hair. It was so soft despite not having been washed for a few days. I could tell he hadn’t slept much. I wondered why he'd bothered digging into my past in the precious little free time he had.
But then he said it, reminding me of the pain of the cemetery and the events that both preceded and followed it.
“Trent Loughton.”
My fingers stopped in their exploration of his curls for a second, but eventually continued. “I see.” I hummed, trying not to push the conversation any further than he wanted to take it. As emotional as the topic was for me, it must have been harder for him. After all, he was the one who shared the nasty habit with Trent.
“I-I saw how he died... and I think I can fill in the rest myself.”
“Mrs. Loughton did give a lot of clues.” I laughed, mostly to stop myself from crying. That woman didn’t deserve any more of my tears. It was because of her that I’d spent years trying to convince myself that Trent’s death wasn’t my fault. Deep down, a part of me still believed her.
But honestly, it wasn’t my opinion that really mattered to me. It was Spencer’s. If he thought I was a failure, or that it was my fault for what happened, I wasn’t sure we’d ever be able to move past it. I wasn’t sure that I would ever be able to move past it.
“The drugs he overdosed on... they weren’t yours.”
Relief washed over me, but my mind told me not to get too comfortable, yet. “No, they weren’t.” My body had such a strange reaction to the words being said without an argument. I didn’t need to convince Spencer; he already knew. He not only believed me – he had come to the conclusion himself.  
“So why did you say they were?”
It was such an easy answer, I knew he had to know it already. His hesitance to come to conclusions on my behalf, while appreciated, wasn’t necessary in this situation. “Pretty little girl with no record and a batshit war hero dad stood a better chance in the criminal justice system. I didn’t ask my dad to protect me, but he did.”
Spencer clearly sympathized with my father more so than me in that moment, which made my heart flutter in a remarkably inappropriate manner. I just couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that those damn psychologists were right – We really do sometimes pick men that remind us of our fathers.
“It wasn’t your fault.” Spencer said under his breath, and I wondered which one he was even talking about. It honestly could have applied to my whole life. He would have meant it each time, too. Because to him I couldn’t do anything wrong. I tried to take solace in that, but it honestly caused another voice to creep into the back of my mind.
I’d never be as good as he saw me. I’d never be worthy of his love.
Shoving those anxieties away again, I nodded in solemn recognition of the years I spent working to come to that same conclusion. “I know. It just took me a while to figure it out.”
My hand finally fell away from his face, although he grabbed my wrist to stop it from going too far. There was another hesitancy in his body language. His face turned down and his leg bouncing so gently I almost missed it.
“Is he the one you were talking about? The one you loved?”
Ah, nothing like a subtle hint of jealousy to boost a girl’s ego. I chuckled at the sound, swaying a bit in place to let him suffer a millisecond longer. “No. Not exactly.”
But then I genuinely couldn’t figure out how to say it. How could I describe what we had shared, when I'd spent so long trying to forget it? Had I loved him? Probably. No, I'd definitely loved him, just not in the way Spencer was thinking. Not like I loved Spencer.
“It was like, he always liked me, and I always thought we’d end up together because that’s how it happens in the movies, right? I was supposed to fall in love with him.” I ranted, trying to move my hands that were currently wrapped up in Spencer’s. “But I didn’t, and then he was gone and...”
We both stopped, his eyes trailing after me with questions he didn’t voice yet. He wanted me to finish before he decided whether or not they were worth it. I wanted to explain to him that they weren’t. As important as Trent was to me, he was gone.
“It’s fine. I’m sure he would be glad I found someone who makes me happy.” I was confident in that, at least. Because as I stared into those big hazel eyes, forcing themselves to stay open just to listen to me talk about my life, I was glad, too. “Even if that someone snoops too much for his own good.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
There were many reasons, most of which I didn’t want to go into. But the way he was looking at me shattered my heart into a million pieces, and I knew that if I lied to him now, it would only make it harder to put those parts back together.
He just wanted to help. I knew I should let him help.
“I didn’t want to think about it.” I admitted for the first time out loud. “I didn’t want to consider all the similarities. I didn’t want you to think I was just looking for a man to replace the ones I’ve lost.”
I couldn’t tell when I started to cry, but it was even more exhausting and painful than normal. Which is why I didn’t hesitate to accept Spencer’s offer when he stood up, wrapping his arms around me just tightly enough that it wouldn’t hurt.  
“I didn’t want to lose you, too.” I whined, the comforting scent of his cologne filling my lungs and reminding me of all the beautiful moments we’d shared so far. We had so many more to go.
“You won’t lose me. I’m here to stay.” He said, reading my mind like he always did.
“I know.” I started to laugh, but this time it wasn’t held back by secrets. “You’d think a girl could lose you by getting in a bar fight an hour away and going to an unnamed hospital but nooo...”
He laughed too, although his was much more reserved. Spoilsport.
Spencer’s arms tightened around me briefly, holding me closer to him before he backed away, his hands finding home on my cheeks. I anticipated a kiss, which was usually what happened when he held me like that. But he didn’t kiss me, instead giving me a gentle instruction.
“(Y/n), look at me.”
My eyes, bruised and dry, still opened at his command.
“No jokes. No lies.” He asked, clearly enunciating each word. “Should I be worried about you?”
All I could hear was the sound of my heart and the humming of the machines. I was brought back to the CT scanner, the way it felt to be choking on air. Flashes of other men I loved were racing through my mind. I couldn’t save them, I remembered, before my eyes landed back on Spencer.
My stomach twisted at the memory of a wooden box, a check, and suddenly all I smelled was the pine of the forest.
“(Y/n)?” He asked again, although I saw he’d already received half of the answer.
“No. I’m fine.”
The most terrifying part about it was that I believed what I said, but the look on Spencer’s face told me that I was lying. And I believed that, too.
—————————————————
The thing about coming back from a gunshot wound to the stomach is that it takes a ridiculously annoying amount of time. Like, yeah, the pain is something awful, but the wait for things to return to normal was even worse.
I didn’t even know how long it’d been, my brain blocking out anything that reminded me of that day. If I ever really needed to know, Spencer could tell me. I was basically only keeping track of the days by deadlines for school and the dwindling prescriptions I had left.
My follow-up appointment was next week, and it couldn’t come soon enough. Spencer told me he would come with me, but I hadn’t really heard from him in a couple of days. He didn’t even have time to tell me about the case, although I could tell it was one of the “bad” ones – not that there were really any “good” ones.
But still, it was almost 11pm and I was about to go to sleep, but I wanted to wait a little bit longer before I called it a night. I was just hoping that I’d be able to talk to him, even if it was just to say goodnight. I missed his voice like crazy.
So when my phone lit up, I didn’t even look at the caller ID. There weren’t many people who would call me this late on a Friday – my friends were all already out for the night.
“Hello?” I sang into the receiver, already excitedly spinning around in my chair.
But the voice that responded was decidedly not Spencer.
“Hey, (y/n), right? It’s JJ.”
Her voice rang like a record scratch through my head, and I halted in my chair. “Oh, hey JJ... Why are you calling me?” Suddenly, my enthusiasm morphed into an overwhelming anxiety and darkness that threatened to crush everything in its path. “I-Is everything alright?”
But then I heard it. The sound of terrible music, loud laughter, and the general bustle of a restaurant. It was followed by an even more nervous JJ, “Uhh, yeah. Everything is fine. I was calling because Spencer might have had a few too many drinks and—“
Above the chaotic noise that I just described, I heard Spencer Reid loud and clear. Well, maybe not the clear part. His inaudible slurring sounded vaguely like a rant I’d heard before. Then again, hadn't I heard them all at this point? ?
I hadn’t put it together yet, though, and once I did, I couldn’t help but laugh. “My boyfriend is drunk? Cute.”
I was already standing, gathering my things and tossing my jacket on to head out when I asked, “Do you want me to come get him?”
“Please.” I’d never heard a more relieved woman in my life. The very thought of him driving his best friends insane with his drunken lessons was enough to combat my exhaustion. The poor thing was probably humiliating himself one sip at a time.
But for every chuckle, I was really just hiding a deeper concern. Spencer wasn’t supposed to be drinking. Spencer wasn’t allowed to drink, and he knew that. Out of the two of us, he was the one who put himself at risk more often, and I had a goddamn bullet wound.
“Sure thing. Just send me the address.”
It dawned on me somewhere along the 20 minute drive that Spencer had not only finished his case, but also come home and gone out for a drink with his team. Normally that wouldn’t bother me, but the fact that he hadn’t told me about any of it...?
I tried not to think about it, knowing that talking to him about it tonight would be a waste of time, anyway. From the way he'd sounded over the phone, he wouldn’t be in any state to talk about the deep nuances of addiction and our relationship.
So I pushed it away, trying to enjoy the fact that I’d be able to see him again. Now that we’d cleared the air about my past, things felt strangely calm. I told myself it wasn’t just the eye of the storm because I  wasn't sure I could handle much more excitement lately.
Showing up at one of the bars I used to frequent didn’t do much to convince me otherwise, either. The stench of cigarette smoke and alcohol hit me like a freight train as soon as I stepped out of my car. How did I do this every other night before?
As I approached the door, I didn’t even recognize the bouncer’s figure in the shade of the dim porch light. I recognized his voice, though, that’s for sure.
“Hey Jailbait, haven’t seen you around.”
Shit. Slower now, I hesitantly approached him with the most innocent and well-meaning look I could muster, knowing full well that another part of my life was going to be exposed tonight. At least this time, Spencer was the story and not the listener.
“Hey Tom...” I nervously laughed, drawing out the words while I came to a stop.
“Heard some pretty crazy shit went down to keep you off the scene. Must be bad if it keeps you away from me.”
It was weird to think that they talked about me. But I guess it was to be expected; we were all friends before Spencer Reid. And when someone in those friend groups goes missing suddenly, there’s usually reason to be worried. But in my situation, the worry wasn’t really necessary (aside from the whole being shot thing, I guess).
“Crazy is a good word for it.”
He leaned forward, beckoning for me to move in even closer with a wave of his hand. I complied, although I was a little confused as to why we were being so secretive.
“Hey, sorry, but... I can’t let you in tonight. You know I normally would, but the place is swarming with feds tonight.”
Then I remembered that I actually had to explain the reason for my absence, rather than just think about it in the abstract. “Oh no, I know.” I peered around him, trying to spot the man past the door. It wasn’t hard, considering how goddamn tall he was.
I pointed to him, causing Tom to turn with an amused grin before I explained, “I’m here for the drunk noodle man.”
The look on his face – hilarious, and a little insulting.
“What? Jailbait’s picking up a fed? Damn girl what’ve you been into?” He laughed, barely able to control himself. He laughed so hard, in fact, I’m surprised there weren’t tears in his eyes.
“Stop that.” I whined, but he didn’t listen.
“Does he know who he’s dating?”
The question hurt more than he could have anticipated. I didn’t want to confront those messy feelings, so I bundled them all into an annoyed exclamation. “Yes, he knows!” I huffed, crossing my arms and turning away from him as I stepped towards the door. “So can I go get him?”
He composed himself rather quickly after that, shaking his head and unhooking the rope that blocked off the door. “Please do. If I have to hear one more fact about Ancient Rome, I might quit.”
With the last obstacle gone, I happily skipped through the door, the excitement returning in a bubbling wave through my chest. “Thanks, Tom!” I chirped, barely giving him a glance as I raced through the door.
The only person more surprised to see me than Tom was Spencer. Although, to his credit, I did practically launch myself at his side. We both nearly toppled to the ground thanks to  our lack of coordination, but we were luckily stopped by the bar he was leaning against.
“Boo!” I shouted in his ear, hearing a small, surprised gasp from my boyfriend.
“(Y/n)?” He turned towards me now, stars quickly forming in his eyes as a big, goofy smile spread across his face. It took him a minute, but eventually he recognized me in the dim light.
“Hey old man.”
Hugging me back just a little too tightly, he began to gush, “Oh my gosh. What are you doing here?” Of course, before I could answer, he came to several other conclusions. “Wait! This is a bar. You can’t be here! You aren’t twenty one!”
He thought he was whispering, but he definitely, definitely was not.
“I’m here to pick you up, not party.” I actually whispered back, turning to see JJ practically hiding at the table. I’m guessing he hasn't wanted her to call me, although I was pretty sure he wouldn’t care at this point. He seemed pretty happy I was there.
“You can’t pick me up. You’re hurt.”
I didn’t even know where to start with that, so I just chuckled. “Smart as a whip, Dr. Reid.”
I ran my hands over his shoulders, smoothing out the wrinkled dress shirt he'd either had no time to iron, or had worn to bed the night before.  I didn’t like either of those options. Spencer must have noticed me analyzing the fact, because his hand came up to stop me.
Trying to quickly change the subject, I blurted out over the terrible music, “Even when I’m hurt, I can probably still pick you up. You probably weigh the same as me.”
He scoffed, looking down at his lanky body compared to mine before shaking his head. “That’s hurtful, (y/n).” He attempted a puppy dog face, which only made laughter burst from my pursed lips.
Grabbing hold of his wrists and pulling him away from the bar, I turned and waved to the few team members I could spot among the crowd before returning to my drunken idiot of a boyfriend. “Come on, love. It’s time to take you home with me.”
When the cool autumn air hit him, I felt the goosebumps ripple over his arm. He leaned a bit closer, resting too much of his body weight on me for my comfort, but I wasn’t going to tell him to stop.
“How did you find me?” He mumbled, trying to touch me more than he currently was. Pushing him away from me was supposed to serve as a gentle reminder that we were in public, but he didn’t seem to care about that at all.
“JJ called me.”
“They all like you a lot. So do I.” His fast responses were a little less impressive considering how spontaneous they seemed, but I let it slide. As long as he was saying nice things, it was fine by me.
Guiding him as gently as possible, which is to say not gently at all considering he was essentially a human giraffe, I sighed. “I’m glad to hear it, Spencer. Maybe I can actually hang out with them one of these days.”
The guilt appeared before I could stop it, but it was the least of my worries at the moment. More concerning would be getting him into his house and in bed without either of us doing something stupid. After all, he was usually the one who stopped me from being stupid. And so far tonight, he’d already done something pretty damn stupid.
As I pulled the driver side door closed, a silence filled the car. Spencer was stuck between staring at me with a lovesick smile and looking away, probably because of his pink cheeks making him look a perfect combination of embarrassed and plastered.
“So what had you drinking, Spencer?”
“A case.” He shot back with that voice he usually reserved for the bedroom. It was the voice that told me not to press, to take his answer and let it die.
Unfortunately, I couldn't really do that this time, concerning this particular topic. . “Good thing or bad thing drinking?” I asked quietly.
I think he wanted to snap at me, to tell me that it was clear he didn’t want to talk about it, but he didn’t. The way my hands and words trembled told him that I was just as scared as he was that the answer might be the wrong one.
“I don’t know,” was what he said, instead.
“Okay.” I accepted that answer, understanding that it meant we could talk about it later, when his blood went back to normal and his mind was where it should be. “We don’t have to talk about it.”
And there we were, me sitting and staring at the indicators on the car as the engine turned, and him staring at me in the little light provided. After staring back at him for a moment, I had to ask the glaringly obvious question.
“Why are you staring at me like that?”
That’s when Spencer Reid let out an honest to god giggle, his hands reaching out to massage my face that no longer showed any signs of the black eye I'd received a few weeks prior. “You’re sooo pretty.” He drawled, slumping over in his seat so he could rest his face against my shoulder.
I couldn’t help but laugh back, petting his hair for a second before returning my attention to the wheel. “Oooh, I like this.” I whispered, letting my heart skip a few beats as he nuzzled into the warmth that only I could provide him.
“I love you.” He mumbled against my shirt, letting out a deep breath before apparently trying to fill his lungs with the smell of my laundry detergent.
The sensation of his breath hot against my neck caused a familiar desire to stir in me, just barely beaten out by the even more powerful adoration I had for the puppy-like man who was already practically asleep on my shoulder.
“I love you, too, darling.”
He didn’t hear me, his soft breath indicating that he would be out for the drive. Taking my time to avoid the roads with potholes and curves, I managed to keep Spencer on me the whole way back to his apartment. Once we were there, though, I didn’t have any option but to wake him up. Unlike him, I definitely could not carry him out of the car.
It took him a surprisingly long period of time to realize that we were not, in fact, at my place. As soon as he did notice, he rubbed his eyes like it would transform the door in front of him. “Why didn’t you take me home?”
“This is your apartment, babe.” I explained, digging through his pockets to find his keys. He jumped at the contact before letting out a sound that was way too close to a moan for him to be making in the hallway.
“Yeah that’s not home.” He answered, swallowing down other noises that threatened to erupt by the time I withdrew my hand. “But home is–“ He hiccuped, patting his finger on my nose as he tried to stabilize his feet. “Home is where you are.”
“Mmm, so smooth.” I hummed, unlocking the door and shoving his drunk ass into the apartment before he could do something else that made me question whether I should just turn around and go home.
But he just looked so proud of himself, spinning around on his feet and crashing into the table beside the door. “Thank you!” He chirped, reaching forward to grab my hand and pull me closer.
When our bodies pressed together, the first thing I noticed was the fact he was clearly much more excited to be home with me than he was letting on. The thin fabric of his slacks left little to the imagination, and when my hand slid over the tent in his pants, there was nothing left to wonder.
“I brought you here... because I didn’t want to have to be quiet.” I purred, palming his erection over his clothes.
Through his broken moans, he still managed to ask the silliest question: “Why are you going to be loud?”
He was so fucking cute; so remarkably innocent in his drunken stupor, it was hard to remember that he was the same man that once finger fucked me on the metro.
“Why do you think?” I asked just as sweetly, making quick work of the buttons on his shirt.
Spencer still just stared, mesmerized by the way the buttons slipped from the fabric between my fingers. Once they were all open, I ran my hands over his chest before wrapping my arms around his neck.
He was the one to close the gap, coming down to deliver a feverish kiss against my lips. He tasted like honey and whiskey, and I wanted nothing more than to drown in him. His hands were on my lower back, sneaking under my shirt and spreading goosebumps all over my skin.
I moaned into his mouth with the utmost desperation, murmuring words against his lips. “Take me to bed, Spencer,” I begged.
The words awoke something in him, and suddenly, his hands were off of me and raised in the air.
“Wait— I can’t.” He concluded, drawing in heavy breaths.
“Why not?”
I wasn’t sure which part of this situation did him in, although I had my suspicions. As much as I wanted him, I would suppress those urges if he was really, truly uncomfortable. I almost felt bad for a second, but then he spoke again.
“I have a girlfriend.”
With a few slow blinks, I tried to figure out how the hell I was supposed to return a serious answer. Deciding that was impossible, I deadpan replied, “I am your girlfriend, you absolute idiot.”
I took his stunned silence to be permission enough to start leading him into his room. He honestly looked like I’d just told him all the answers to the universe, and he trailed after me like my hand was a leash. Still, once I sat on the bed and pulled his body against mine, he paused again.
“My girlfriend can’t— she’s hurt. She can’t have sex with me.”
I got the impression he was trying to reason with himself more so than with me, which explained the third person. But it was deeply unsettling, because I really needed to know he was here in this moment with me.
“Stop saying 'she'. It’s me, babe.” I gently reminded, and I watched it dawn on him again, his eyes lighting up in the darkness. Sliding my hand up his arm, I pulled him forward to hopefully convince him to climb into the bed with me. “And we don’t have to have sex.”
Funny enough, Spencer was the one who had enough sense to strip off most of his clothes before he stumbled onto the mattress after me. His lack of coordination was even worse with the alcohol, and it reminded me of the virginal teenager I’m certain he once was.
It was strange to consider, that if we’d met each other under different circumstances, at a different time, our roles might have been somewhat reversed. To picture him as an innocent little thing was... kind of exciting.
But he was anything but innocent now, his face hanging over mine while he helped me disrobe, trying to focus his analytical abilities on me in his haze. Finding no pain or hesitancy, he crashed his lips over mine with an energy I hadn’t seen in some time.
And it was so invigorating, to feel his skin against mine without him having to constantly worry about whether or not he was hurting me. It’d been far too long since we shared a bed together like this, and now that it was happening, I could hardly breathe.  
“God, I love her.” He whispered against my skin, before quickly correcting himself, “I love you.”
I laughed, the kind that sputters from your lips when you try to hold it back. Pushing the hair from his face, I ran my fingers over his scalp. “How drunk are you?”
“I’m not drunk, I’m stupid.” He replied with a cheeky smirk, diving back down to kiss me again. I wasn’t going to argue with the brilliant Spencer Reid, even if the point he was making was that he was, in fact, stupid.
Maybe it was stupid, the two of us tangling up in his sheets despite the fact that I hadn’t been cleared for it yet by my doctor. I knew that it was coming soon – probably at my appointment in a couple weeks, actually – so why wait? I knew that Spencer would never hurt me. Even now, his hands were gentle in their insistence, raking over my hip and stopping just short of the place where I really wanted him.  
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He groaned, his hips rocking forward and pressing his erection against my leg.
“Touch me.” I ordered, louder and more forcefully than I intended. I was expecting an argument, but I didn’t get one. In fact, Spencer’s finger had already breached my folds before I even finished talking. Unwilling to let him be the only one to enjoy himself, I reached down to grab his cock.
“Shit.” He hissed, biting down on his lip while he rutted against my hand. “I just want to hold you down and fuck you until you cry.” The restraint was obvious in the fingers slowly sinking into me, his jaw clenched and his eyes barely able to stay open. “But I can’t.”
Through my heavy breaths, I panted out another request. “Tell me more about it.”
He immediately realized why I’d asked, and his fingers began to pump in and out of me faster and with more force, his lips trailing kisses over to my ear. While I tried to keep up the pace of my strokes, it became more complicated when his breath fanned over my ear.
“It’s been so long since I bent you over and had my way with you like I did that morning over your kitchen counter...” He moaned, and I could almost feel the sensations as he remembered them. Although his fingers would never be the same, just having him inside me in any capacity felt like pure bliss.
But he wasn’t done, continuing to speak his thoughts into my ear. “I just want to—fuck, I want to fill you up.” I went to respond, but I choked on a sob, instead. The lewd sounds between us only aided his descriptions.
“God, I love the way you feel. You’re always so wet for me.” He whispered, beginning to make small thrusts with his hips. The movement essentially allowed him to use my hand to stroke himself, and he let out another unsteady moan at the contact. “Think about what it feels like, little girl.”
“I-I am.” I could barely make the words come out; my body too sensitive to his touch after being starved of it for so long. And Spencer was ready to take full advantage of that.
“I still have so much planned for you. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about that little stunt you pulled when you got all riled up.” He growled, using his free hand to grab a fistful of my hair. He yanked my head further to the side, laying sloppy kisses along my jaw. “I told you I’d give you triple the marks you left on me, and I can’t wait to cover you with me.”
“Fuck. Please, Spencer.” I hoarsely begged, my hand on his shoulder tightening so that my nails dug into his skin. If his grip on my hair wasn’t so tight, I would have thrown my head back. Instead, I just squirmed underneath him, crying out, “I’m so close, Spencer, please!”
He did not disappoint, his fingers curling inside of me with each thrust, and by some grace of God, he was able to coordinate his thumb over my clit. As if that wasn’t enough, he pulled back to look me in the eyes.  
“I want to feel you come on my fingers.” It was more of a demand than a desire, as evidenced by the way his hand tugged on my hair. “Come on, little girl. Make daddy proud.”
Just like that, my body responded to his call, my muscles trembling from the tension as my orgasm hit me like a fucking freight train. It was such an overwhelming experience, to remember exactly how Spencer was capable of making me feel.
And he knew it, too. “Oh, good girl,” he cooed, continuing his kisses against my neck and murmuring the words as they came to him. “That’s my pretty little slut.”
After taking my time coming back to earth, I struggled from the overstimulation still burning between my legs. Spencer hadn’t stopped his fingers, which were diligently stroking inside of me while he continued to buck his hips against my hand.
“I want you to finish inside me.” I slurred in my delirium, withdrawing my hand from his dick while he whimpered.
“I-I can’t. I can’t fuck you.” He was asserting a necessary and understandable hard limit, and it was clear I wouldn’t be able to convince him to fuck me that night.
But that wasn’t the plan, anyway.  
“That’s not what I’m talking about.” I said between gasps, struggling against his fingers still inside me. “Come up here.” I whined, rubbing my hands on his shoulders while simultaneously trying to sit myself up.
The movement and the words made him withdraw completely. “(Y/n)...” He warned, running a hand through his hair while he sat up on his knees. “I could hurt you.”
“That’s always been a risk with us, Spencer.” My retort was both quick and persuasive, judging by the way he almost moved, but stopped himself yet again.
“Please. Please, do it. I want you to do it so fucking bad.” There was an obvious and deep desperation. I was literally begging him, to the point that I swore I almost cried. It felt stupid, but I needed him like I’d never needed anything in my life before. He’d spent months taking care of me, and I couldn’t do anything in return.
I just wanted to make him feel good, to give him something like we used to share.
Of course, I think those thoughts were also visible on my face, and they were obviously worrying him. With tender touches, Spencer’s fingers lightly trailed over the side of my face. The brief flashes of clarity alerted him of my struggle, and he let out a shaky breath at the war inside his own mind.  
“I want to feel you inside me, and this is the only way.” I concluded, trying to lead him to the simplest conclusion. It was the safest, easiest way to solve both of our current problems. And although I could see how hard the decision was for him, my pleading eventually bested him.
“Fuck.” He mumbled, leaning forward to grab the headboard, staring down at me as I shimmied further up the wood.
“Fuck!” He repeated, rolling his head back with a light groan when both of my hands reached forward to grab his hips. “Fine. You’re lucky you’re so fucking cute.”
A giggle bubbled through my throat, and my body actually bounced in excitement as he slowly positioned himself in front of me. I wasn’t even sure which I was more excited for, my own orgasm or getting to finally give him one again.
As soon as my mouth closed around the head of his dick, I got my answer. Spencer’s moan filled the room, his hands holding so firmly on the headboard that the entire bed creaked. Although I figured he’d been taking care of himself in my absence, it appeared that wasn’t entirely the case. He seemed just as starved as I was.
“Holy shit.” He groaned, dropping a hand to the top of my head. I had to remind myself that he was drunk, which explained why he seemed so much more responsive than normal, with whimpers and pants flowing steadily through his mouth. He only got louder as he began to slowly push himself further into my mouth, stopping every few inches to retreat before pressing further.
“God, I need to do this more often. No back talk, no whining.” He said in a low tone under his breath, beginning to settle on a steady rhythm.
Meanwhile, I couldn’t think of anything except how fucking good it felt to be useful again, to feel him struggling to hold himself back as he started to more aggressively fuck my mouth. My eyes could barely stay open, but I needed them to. I needed to see him in the dim light of the streetlights that peered through the window.
He looked so beautiful, so perfect, and so mine. Feeling him slide back and forth against my tongue revived memories from long before and reignited my longstanding desire to do anything to please him. In all his caretaking, I was worried he might have forgotten how to control me.
But he hadn't.  Thank god, he hadn’t.
“Come on, little girl. Earn your fill.” He whispered, burying himself in my throat and holding me against the headboard. I only lightly choked on the intrusion before my body complied, swallowing him further until my lips were pressed against the base of him.
Suddenly, Spencer withdrew, beginning a brutal, dizzying pace. Now, my eyes couldn’t stay open, rolling to the back of my head as I used my hands to steady myself against his thighs. The sobs trying to escape felt more like moans, and they shoved Spencer over the edge he’d been riding in his caution.
“That’s it. Take it.” He barked the instruction, looking down at me and smiling, “Don’t you dare spill any of it, do you hear me?”
My answer was stifled against him, just the way he wanted it to be. And with a few more rough thrusts, Spencer buried himself as deep as possible. I swore my heart synchronized with the pulsing against my tongue as his seed spilled down my throat.
I hollowed my cheeks, trying to drain every last drop from him as he finished. It had its desired effect, and Spencer grabbed my hair and forced himself deeper one more time with a growl. “Good girl.”
Once he had enough, he pulled out of me with a satisfied grunt, waiting just a second before clumsily falling onto the bed beside me. I laughed as he hit the pillows, obviously too tired to even reposition himself in the disastrous sheets.
“Thank you, daddy.” I spoke in the silence, gingerly cleaning the spit that had dripped down my chin.
“Fuck.” The curse was muffled in the pillow, but I understood it well enough. He seemed more concerned when I started to sink down into the sheets again, reaching a tentative hand out to him.
Finally rolling over, he grabbed my arm and guided me closer. “Come here.” He said with the tenderness I’d grown used to over the past few months. He turned towards me, apparently not ready for me to sleep on my side just yet.
He brushed my hair from my face, lifting the sheets to look at the now mostly healed wound. I hated it when he looked at it. It just reminded me that I’d never be the same girl he first met. Every time he saw it, he would remember that day. I didn’t want to think about it.
“Are you alright? Are you hurt?”
But even with the insecurity and anger in my gut, I wasn’t lying when I answered. “No, I’m fine.” My heart was so full, my body relaxing for the first time in so long. I was just so unbelievably happy to be together again. Even if it wasn’t like last time, it was still just as wonderful.
“I’m a little better than fine, actually.” I admitted with a bright smile.
Spencer hummed something in thought, but then winced. “Do me a favor.” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes and wiping a heavy hand over his face.
“Anything.”
“Kick my ass in the morning.”
He was caught off guard by my response, which was a full-hearted laugh that was too loud for how close the two of were. But I couldn’t help it, it was just so Spencer to still be punishing himself despite the fact that nothing bad had happened.
Once I calmed down enough to talk, I turned to him with a devilish grin. “I don’t wanna.”
Then were both laughing, and Spencer pulled me close to him until he could rest his chin on the top of my head, curling up against my side. “Spoiled brat.” He whined, running his hand through my hair and down my arm.
When I smelled the whiskey on his breath, the guilt hit me just as hard as any of the pleasure. I'd been so excited to get to experience this with him again, I almost forgot the reason he didn’t want to do it in the first place.
He just didn’t want to hurt me. He just wanted to make me happy.
“I just wanted to be with you again... I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” I whispered, pulling the covers up so that I could hide my shame beneath them.
“I wanted to be with you, too.” He reassured me, half asleep and barely able to talk but wanting to get the words out. “I know it’s important to you, but I need you to know I would be with you even if I never got to touch you again.”
“Please never stop touching me.” I quickly replied, a genuine worry in my eyes.
But when Spencer glanced over, he just laughed, “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”
“No? Even when I get pregnant and have a big ol’ belly?” I playfully answered, bringing his hand to my stomach and pressing it against the side that still remained intact.
The familiar position caused a shift in Spencer’s body language, and suddenly he was even more insistent on being impossibly closer. “You’ll still be irresistible to me.” He said against my hair, running his fingers lightly over the unmarked skin of my lower stomach.
“We’ll see, I guess.” I mumbled, not realizing that I said it aloud until I heard his confused reply.
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing.” The defensiveness in my voice was terrifyingly transparent, and I hoped that if his drinking made him forget anything, it would be this conversation. “Go to sleep, drunk ass.”
“I need hugs and kisses first.” He complained, rubbing his nose against me in a way that should have been irritating instead of adorable.
“Spoiled.” I grumbled, reaching a hand up to play with his hair. I turned to kiss his cheek through the smile that was plastered over my cheeks.
Already half snoring in his sleepy state, he got out one more cringe worthy joke before he succumbed to his exhaustion. “What’s good for the goose...”  
“...is good for the gander.” I finished for him, before taking the advice and following him to sleep.
 —————————————————
| Part 18 |
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