#at least it wasn’t during my science final I guess
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definatelymrhyde · 5 months ago
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I just got out of my math final exam, and I had The ballad of Dr. Jekyll by Chonny Jash stuck in my head for the entire hour and forty some minutes he’s invaded my head someone help me
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amarantine-amirite · 2 months ago
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Texts from the Future
Everybody has been asked this question at least once in their lifetime: where do you see yourself in 5 years?
No two people have the same answer, but in truth, the best way to respond is to say the following: it's very hard to know what will happen in 5 years given how quickly the world changes these days. Usually, it’s best to follow up with an example of contenders for the next biggest thing in 5 years. This example can vary from year to year.
When you think about it, that question about where you see yourself in 5 years is guesswork with extra steps. The vaguest guests are the best ones. Anything too specific, and you will have guessed wrong.
I’m lucky. Instead of guessing, I can just check my phone. I've gotten all these notifications dated 5 years into the future. At first, I thought it was a glitch of some sort, but it's really an interesting story.
Like the ideal response to the five-year question, the notifications my phone gives me are vague. I’ve only received five, dated a year apart. You have done something you previously felt was impossible. You have dodged a bullet. You have gone on a trip. You are in for a surprise. Wake up.
I ignored them at first. I thought it was a joke. It took me the full five years to discover what it all meant.
The first one was easy. I graduated high school and began to do my core courses for college over the summer. Both of those things felt impossible.
The second one came as a bit of a surprise, and not a good surprise. During my second semester, I discovered that I failed fall term discrete mathematics because my course notes were to be submitted for credit. Notes with messy handwriting were marked incomplete because they couldn’t be digitized for automatic grading. Thankfully, it didn’t matter. The degree requirements for my major changed, and the DM course no longer impacted my academic standing. I got an internship at Apple and it was smooth sailing for the rest of the summer
You would have had to stick your head in a bucket to miss the third one. I did my fall semester abroad in Spain. 
I discovered just how unpleasant the surprise was. What was supposed to be my last year ended up being my second last year, and where things started to sour.
First, the university dismissed the entire physics department, forcing me to transfer to computer science. Since that discrete mathematics course that I failed was now a requirement, I had to retake discrete mathematics. Halfway through the term, the instructor died of a superbug and the department couldn’t find anyone else to teach the class. That meant they eliminated the course.
I had to meet with an academic advisor to rectify the problem. Once I explained to her what happened, she didn’t believe me. She leaned over and asked, “Now, were the last five years a dream?”
“They were until they became a nightmare,” I responded. 
The academic advisor shook her head. “That’s not what I mean,” she continued, “Like, did everything that happened in the last five years happen for real or are you dreaming?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I said, taken aback.
She quickly answered my question. She mentioned that there have been reports that victims of torture, during the act, would retreat into a fantasy world from which they could not wake up. In this catatonic state, the victim lived in a world where their life went great.  
The only way that they realized they needed to wake up was a string of things going catastrophically wrong that led them to some sort of reminder within their fantasy world which would tell them the truth. Even then, it would often take months before they were ready to discard their fantasy world and wake up.
Now, I assumed she was either full of shit or making stuff up to get me to leave. Either way, it wasn’t helpful. 
Today was the day I finally woke up.
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darbydoo22 · 2 years ago
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Into The Crows-Verse
a/n: So Happy to have gotten to work on this awesome idea for @grishaversebigbang ! My second of 2 fics so this is it for me this time ✨
Materialki: @oranges-and-stuff (x)
Summary: Basically how I imagine each of the crows introductions would go if they had the comic book style intros in Into The Spider-Verse.
Read it on AO3 or here under the cut!
Let’s take this from the top;
My name is Kaz Brekker. When I was a teenager, I was bitten by a radioactive spider that gave me all kinds of powers. I became the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man.
I fought tons of bad guys and won. Then I fought a ton more, and won again. Things were great. At least until I found my archenemy; the Lizard. Weird name, right? The guy kinda looks like a seven foot tall version of Godzilla, but I guess that name was copyrighted.
Anyway, I had some battles with The Lizard. Won a few, lost most of them, destroyed a lot of property all around.
I never really figured out who The Lizard was, just that he was part of some kind of science experiment gone wrong and that he was really mad about it. And yeah, I’d be mad too if someone had turned me into a giant lizard thing by mistake, but I don’t think I’d take it out on the general population.
But let’s get back on track, shall we? Anyway, giant lizard guy. We fought and I lost a fight that completely destroyed a huge chunk of the city.
During the fight, the building came down, and I did my best to get everyone out of the way. But in the process, my leg got crushed by some falling debris. Even with my spider powers, it will never heal right. I’d been using a cane to get around, so I had no idea how I could fight anyone anymore.
It felt like I couldn’t do anything right, and I couldn’t keep the people of (New York? Ketterdam?) safe. I couldn’t stop The Lizard. I couldn’t even figure out who he was.
But slowly, I learned to fight with a cane. I got better and better at it, and eventually, had the idea to build web shooters into it. I had a cane made specially reinforced with the same material as my Spider-Man suit, so it wouldn’t break during battle either.
After that, I fought The Lizard more often. It got to the point where I was fighting him almost every day and it was starting to feel like he was targeting me specifically. I didn’t find out why until it was too late.
During my last battle with The Lizard, the unthinkable happened. We were fighting, just like we had been for the last few months. The fight took place in a warehouse, some kind of industrial looking building where all the wires and beams were exposed. With his lizard powers and my spider powers, we both managed to climb up to one of the higher stories to fight.
The Lizard got a few good hits in on me, and I’d managed to hit him a few times too. And then finally, I got in a lucky hit that knocked him off balance.
The Lizard stumbled and fell from the second story down to the first. Considering his height, and some of the falls I’d seen him take before, he should have been fine. But when I got down to fight him, he wasn’t on his feet. He wasn’t moving, and when I went to get a closer look, I noticed a pipe sticking out of his chest.
As I got closer, the lizard features began to fade, and the human features became clear. And that was when I finally saw it. The Lizard was my missing brother, Jordie. He bled out and there was nothing I could do.
After that, I felt lost. I couldn’t stop being Spider-Man because the city needed me, but I became closed off. I couldn’t risk getting close with anyone in case they got hurt, or worse.
Then one day, part of the city started to look weird. Like a glitch on a screen. And the next thing I knew, I was being sucked into another world.
Let’s do this one more time:
My name is Nina Zenik, and I am Spider-Woman. When I was teenager, I was bitten by a radioactive spider that gave me all kinds of powers. I became the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Woman.
I fought tons of bad guys and won. Then I fought a ton more, and won again. Things were great. I was actually popular in school, and my crush, Matthias Helvar knew I existed. He even asked me out on a date!
I could tell that my best friend Genya was jealous of all the attention I was getting. The two of us used to be a lot closer, but ever since I got my powers we haven't been the same.
She was one of the head cheerleaders, and I guess she was happy talking to me when I was just some loser, but now that people thought I was cool too, it was too much? Whatever.
So we drifted apart, and I got to know Matthias more. We went on a few dates, though a couple got interrupted by some of my Spider-Woman activities.
The longer we dated, the more guilty I felt for lying to Matthias about why I had to cancel dates. It got to a point where I felt like I had to either break up with him, or tell him I was Spider-Woman. So that’s what I did.
I told Matthias about the whole secret identity thing, saving the city, and all that. Our relationship got even better than I thought it could be. Matthias started to get a bit more into the hero stuff, which was difficult, because his adoptive father Jarl is totally against it all. But we made it work.
Eventually, one of the villains started to get more interested in Matthias and I. He was so angry at me for some reason. It took me too long to figure it out and Matthias ended up paying the price.
One of my major villains as Spider-Woman, the Green-Goblin, figured out my identity. He kidnapped Matthias and used him to lure me into a fight. I went, obviously. I wasn’t just going to leave Matthias in the hands of my arch-enemy.
But when I got there, it was too late. Matthias was dead, and all I could do was give the Green Goblin the fight he wanted. We fought, and he got the upper hand. I tried to use my web shooters to get away, but he was following me on his mechanical glider. I took one tight corner, and the next thing I knew, he wasn’t following me anymore.
When I went back to see what had happened. I saw that he had crashed into a building. He got impaled on some debris that had fallen during our fighting. I got closer, and finally saw that the Green Goblin’s mask was cracked.
It was Genya’s adoptive father, Aleksander. He was the Green Goblin. He’d figured out my secret identity and had killed Matthias. It didn’t make any sense. I knew he wasn’t like that, but he had told me about some experimental substance he was working with, Merzots. It basically elevated all of a person’s senses. I’d looked into it though, and there hadn’t been a successful test where the subject kept their sanity.
I wanted to look into it more, but I had just lost Matthias. Genya had just lost her father figure, and I wanted to be there for her. But she just kept going on about how her father had respected me more than he had ever respected her, and how she didn’t want anything to do with me.
It hurt. It felt like I had lost everyone at once. Not only that but there was a new villain on the scene. She was basically a red version of the Green Goblin. I knew it was Genya, and it hurt so much to have my best friend going after me for something so out of my control. We were both grieving, and I hated that we were taking it out on each other.
Because of all the Spider-Woman stuff, I felt like I never really had the time to grieve Matthias. His dad hated me, and blamed me for Matthias’ death. It was the truth, even if he didn’t know the full extent. So I pulled away from everyone. I didn’t want to risk anyone else getting hurt because of me.
Then one day, part of the city started to look weird. Like a glitch on a screen. And the next thing I knew, I was being sucked into another world.
Let’s try this again. Third time’s the charm, right?
My name is Jesper Fahey, and I am Spider-Boy. I wasn’t bitten by a spider or anything like that, but my mom was. She was the amazing Spider-Woman.
I grew up hearing all these awesome stories from her and my dad, who even less frequently, went out as Spider-Man. They’re heroes! So I wanted to be just like them.
As I got older, I started to experience some of the same spider powers that my mom got when she was bitten. I also got a couple of powers that she didn’t have.
Through a lot of trial and error, we figured out what I could do. I could use the same web shooters as my parents, could climb buildings like my mom, and after some cool designing with my dad, we managed to create a suit that could let me glide. It meant I could basically fly, which was pretty awesome!
Thanks to my powers, I got to help my parents with a lot of the hero stuff. I got to spend more time with them, and it was just really great. But one day, while I was in school, my mom went out to do some hero stuff on her own.
She fought a guy with super strength, and managed to stop him from destroying a handful of buildings downtown. But the villain managed to damage one of the buildings so badly that it looked like it was going to fall over. While she was evacuating some of the civilians, a little girl was stuck under some of the debris. My mom managed to get her out, and get her to safety, but not before part of the building collapsed. One of her legs was crushed, and even with her powers, it would never heal right.
She had to give up being Spider-Woman after that, which I know she was really upset about. Because of that, I got to be the city’s number one protector. The friendly neighbourhood Spider-Boy.
I started fighting my own battles, getting my own villains, but I always had my parents to support me when I did. We figured out a way for me to keep up with school and continue being Spider-Boy.
Then one day, part of the city started to look weird. Like a glitch on a screen. And the next thing I knew, I was being sucked into another world.
Alright, this is the final time we are doing this:
My name is Matthias Helvar and I am the Spider-Man. I was bitten by a spider, and somehow, that gave me powers.
I have been spending my days trying to solve crime, and using my powers to put villains and criminals behind bars. It is a difficult life, not being able to get close with anyone. But it was worth it for the justice I was delivering. It was my true purpose. It felt like this was the reason I was given these powers.
Then one day, I was kidnapped. Apparently the military had heard of my powers, and wanted to use me for some kind of experimentation. I was held captive for months. During that time they took sample after sample of DNA from me. They tortured me, tried to brainwash me, all in the hopes that I would join them.
But one day, I noticed that one of the nurses working on me to draw blood looked familiar. She was another investigator I had encountered over the years. Nina Zenik. I could hardly believe that she was here. I thought she had stood for justice, like me, but here she was, helping the military experiment on me.
It was not until she told me that she was here to rescue me that I understood the gravity of the situation. Months went by, and she continued to help my captors experiment on me. At that point I knew she was purposely giving them false information, in hopes of destroying all of the information the military had managed to gain about my powers.
The longer I spent there, the more I started to trust Nina. I knew it was a mistake, because the people I cared about usually ended up betraying me, or worse. And when Nina helped me escape, I knew it would be for the worst.
I managed to get out, but Nina, who was innocent of any crime beyond freeing me, was killed. I have never been the same after that. I continued to solve crimes and protect people, but some part of me felt broken. I could no longer get close to others, because the one time I did, Nina died because of me.
I kept to myself, both in my day job and as Spider-Man. It was a lonely existence, but it was for the best.
Then one day, part of the city started to look strange. Like a glitch on a television screen. And the next thing I knew, I was being sucked into another world.
Alright, let's do this one more time. Last time, I swear!
My name is Wylan Van Eck, and I am Spider-Boy. I wasn’t bitten by a spider or anything like that. In fact, I don’t have any kind of powers at all. I save the city, and the world, with a super cool robotic suit that I built.
It all happened after my dad disowned me. He’s the head of one of the biggest tech companies in the world, and didn’t think I’d be able to manage it after him. I have as much, or even more tech knowledge than him, but I can admit that I don’t have the best business sense.
Anyway, after he disowned me and kicked me out, I didn’t have much to do. I wasn’t going to the fancy private school he had forced me to go to, and none of my friends would talk to me since I wasn’t super rich anymore.
I had a lot of time on my hands, so I started doing a bit of investigating. There were a few villains who were destroying the city, causing a lot of property damage, and, more importantly, were getting people hurt.
The worst of the villains was someone named the Green Goblin. He had a full body suit of green armour and tones of tech that looked way more advanced than anything I’d ever seen.
The tech, and some of the people and places he was targeting were all connected though. I knew he wasn’t just going around and doing things randomly. If he was smart enough to build the suit, there had to be a pattern. Some kind of motive.
The more I looked into it, the more the evidence led straight back to my dad’s company. All of the people he was going after and stealing from were competitors, or investors that hadn’t backed his company.
It didn’t really make any sense, until I broke into one of the company’s labs. Well, it’s not technically breaking in if my dad forgot to remove my access, right? Anyways, I was able to find a file on a top secret project. Something about a drug that would enhance all of a person’s senses, but would also drive them to madness.
At the very end was a video, there was a note that the drug had been rejected by every science board in the country. I knew my father would never accept that, so it didn’t surprise me that he had taken it to prove a point. Except that he had supposedly taken it years ago. He hadn’t shown any signs of the usual symptoms, and as far as I knew, he had been perfectly fine.
But I guess creating an entire villain persona and trying to kill people that hadn’t backed the project wasn’t exactly the pinnacle of sanity either. Whatever the case, I stole a bunch of parts from the lab, and built my own costume.
It was a spider shaped machine that would help me climb buildings. That way, I could fight my dad when he was flying around as Green Goblin.
I started to make public appearances, fighting not just my dad, but some other bigger villains as well. I started to be known around town as Spider-Boy. I guess I was a bit more visible than I thought I was in the robot, because people could see how young I was.
Whatever, I accepted the title and became the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Boy.
Then one day, part of the city started to look weird. Like a glitch on a screen. And the next thing I knew, I was being sucked into another world.
I really hope this is the last time we’re doing this. Okay, here we go:
My name is Inej Ghafa, and I am Spider-Woman. I lived a perfectly normal life up until a few days ago. I went to a normal school, or I guess as normal as possible for a private school I was at for competitive gymnastics. I had friends, who were also gymnasts, and hobbies outside of school and sports.
My parents were fully supportive of me in my school and sports. At times, a bit overbearingly so. So sometimes I just needed a break from it all. From the constant expectations, from the constant interest and pressure of living up to their expectations for me.
That need to take a break is where everything changed in my life. I was doing a bit of exploring with one of my cousins. We were downtown, hanging out in the abandoned gym where we used to train as kids.
The gym hadn’t been open for years, so it wasn’t the cleanest. There were definitely rats living in it, maybe racoons too. We didn’t care though, we just hung out, like we always did. At least until I saw what I thought was a spider. It looked huge, but every time I looked at it, it had vanished. By the time we were leaving, I’d almost forgotten about the spider, until I went to pick up my gym back, and it jumped out at me from underneath it.
The spider bit me, and that moment changed my life forever.
On the way home from the gym, I started feeling weird. Almost jumpy at the slightest sound. Even sounds that other people couldn’t hear.
It only got weirder from there. When I was walking home I felt an intense feeling of panic, and got out of the way just in time to avoid being hit by some supervillain looking person. Spider-Woman was right behind her, and that weird feeling I had told me to follow the two of them.
I did, and saw Spider-Woman get killed. But not before she gave me some information on how to stop what sounded like the end of the world. Apparently some mad scientist named Van Eck was trying to break the barrier between all of the different worlds out there.
It was up to me to stop it now. At least it was, until a bunch of other Spider-Women and Spider-Men started showing up.
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hummingbird-of-light · 2 years ago
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Against All Odds
Part 341
McCoy
McCoy decided to walk around the building outside, before returning to the lounge again. He breathed in and out slowly as he walked, trying to clear his head. Jim yelling, Scotty fighting back, admitting to Spock his own jealousy… What else would the new semester hold if this was only the first day of classes?
Perhaps just all being back together in school would take some readjusting to after the carefree summer they’d had. McCoy let out a huff and rolled his eyes. Carefree indeed! The articles and invasions that had plagued them.
McCoy felt much better as he reentered the building and headed for the lounge. He’d get more time with Scotty. He could even get his boyfriend to help with his math before dinner and maybe they’d have more time for themselves in the evening. Christine could help with the sciences later.
The lounge seemed very quiet as McCoy drew closer. Though, when he had left with Jim and Scotty, following Pike it hadn’t exactly been loud. Everyone had taken to watching the scene unfolding between Jim and Scotty. And himself he had to admit.
He stopped in the doorway to look for Scotty. His heart dropped to his stomach as he found his boyfriend on the far side of the room, with Khan. Cold washed over him, but he managed to keep himself upright. Scotty’s hand was on Khan’s shoulder and as he watched, Khan reached up his hand on top of Scotty’s.
He wanted to run. The image was too close to what he had seen in his nightmare weeks ago. His throat felt too tight as he swallowed and he couldn’t tear his eyes away. His breathing sped up. Hadn’t he just admitted to Spock how illogical this feeling was? There had to be a reason why Scotty and Khan were talking.
Before McCoy could force himself to move, Khan walked away and Scotty spotted him. He hurried to McCoy’s side and embraced him.
Scotty’s breath was warm at his ear as he asked how the chat with Spock had gone. A cold shiver went down McCoy’s spine, and he turned to look at Scotty slowly.
Scotty’s eyes were worried. Why was he worried, McCoy thought bitterly. Worried he had been caught with Khan?
McCoy fought to keep a harsh look from his face. He took a slow breath.
”It went fine,” he choked out. His heart was pounding in his chest.
Scotty brushed a hand across McCoy’s cheek. “You,” he whispered to McCoy.
His body jerked and he looked at Scotty again and saw only love in his eyes. McCoy’s face burned. Scotty took his hand and began to pull him gently along. Outside in the fresh air again.
“I can explain it all,” Scotty said softly.
“My nightmare…” McCoy breathed as a whisper.
“I know love,” Scotty said, sitting down on a bench and pulling McCoy down with him. “I know. It wasn’t like that at all. Khan called me over because he had heard his name during… during the argument. He was worried he was the reason for it. He felt bad and said he’d try to stay away to not cause more problems.”
“Good,” McCoy spat out before he meant to.
Scotty gave him a sharp look.
“I know he’s trying,” McCoy said, softer. “I just don’t know what it is. I don’t trust him I guess. He did so much wrong to you, to Jim.”
“Forgiving can be hard mo ghràdh, at least he’s realized and is trying.”
“I know,” McCoy said, hanging his head. “I’m trying to be better, but walking in and seeing you two like that… It was just…”
“Like your dream, I know. It must have been a shock. I’m sorry for that.” Scotty moved closer and leaned into McCoy.
“I’m sorry for reacting badly,” McCoy said quietly.
“I think ye can make it up to me,” Scotty said, a note of amusement entering his voice.
“And how’s that?” McCoy asked, smile beginning to pull his mouth.
“Like this,” Scotty said and cupped his hands against McCoy’s face, turning him for a kiss.
McCoy rested his forehead against Scotty’s as they broke apart.
“Love you,” McCoy said, the emotions churning in his chest finally calmed. Scotty repeated the words in Gaelic and the phrase was like music to McCoy.
“We’ve got a bit of time before dinner,” Scotty said, “we should get that work done you wanted help with.”
“Can we just sit? We could do it after dinner? Please?”
“Ok love.”
Part 342
Scotty
At dinner Scotty sat between Leonard and Robbie. Khan had once again taken a place far away from them, but Scotty noticed him glancing over from time to time.
Across from Scotty Jim was sitting. Keenser, Pavel and Sulu sat between the blond and Spock. Apparently the two of them hadn’t talked about everything yet.
The whole situation was very tense. Nobody talked much except for Robbie. Eventually the younger Scott brother noticed that something was wrong, so he stopped talking and his smile faded.
“Did… I miss something?”
Keenser shrugged. He didn’t know anything either. He hadn’t been at the lounge during the argument.
Scotty felt Leonard grabbing his hand and squeezing it. He looked over at his love who gave him a reassuring nod.
“I…”
“There’s been a misunderstanding.”
Scotty blinked in surprise when Jim interrupted him. The blond didn’t look up, a blush creeping to his cheeks.
“I… blamed Scotty for something that clearly wasn’t his fault.”
Slowly, Jim’s eyes moved upwards and he looked at Scotty. There were small tears in his eyes, but he quickly blinked them away.
“I’m sorry Scotty. I… was just so angry at the whole situation that I tried to find someone responsible when actually it was just many things going wrong. It… was nobody’s fault.”
Scotty stared at his friend with wide eyes. Jim apologizing for something was a rare thing. Apparently Pike had really talked some sense into him.
The Scotsman swallowed down the lump in his throat before he managed to give an answer.
“Ye’re right. It was… a big misunderstanding. And…,” Scotty glanced at Spock for a moment, then turned his attention back to Jim, “I really hope everything will be cleared up.”
Jim nodded slowly, a weak smile on the corner of his lips.
“Yeah… me too.”
They looked at each other for a moment and a silent agreement of peace was made.
After dinner Scotty had watched Jim leave together with Spock. He really hoped that the two of them would make up. They didn’t deserve to go through a fight like that. There was a deep bond between them. One that hopefully couldn’t be broken.
Just like something was binding him and Leonard. The couple had made their way to the library and was now sitting at a table, heads bent over a book.
“No, no, no… ye have to look at these numbers here.”
Scotty chuckled softly as he pointed at a different page in the book.
It filled his heart with joy that Leonard had a goal now.
A doctor.
Leonard McCoy wanted to be a doctor.
Scotty could perfectly imagine his boyfriend working with patients, helping them back to their feet. He had the skills and the courage and the heart.
Only the understanding of mathematics was missing.
Leonard groaned as he buried his face in his hands. He was very annoyed by all of it.
“I’m horrible at this. I’ll never get through it!”
Scotty smiled gently while he grabbed Leonard’s hands and pulled them away.
“Hey, hey. Look at me.”
Leonard didn’t meet his eyes.
“Look at me!”
Slowly the prince turned his head and looked into Scotty’s eyes. He looked so insecure and disappointed.
“We’ll get ye through this, mo ghràdh. Ye’ll succeed at math. Ye’ll become a great doctor and then ye’ll save many lives.”
Leonard laughed humorless. He didn’t seem to believe it.
“How can you be so sure about that?”
Scotty placed a hand on his love’s cheek and smiled.
“Because I know ye. I know that ye are stubborn and ye can achieve anything ye want to. And… I’ll be at yer side. I’ll help ye.”
With that Scotty pressed a gentle kiss to Leonard’s lips. It felt great. And Scotty made sure to pour all his love and passion into it. After the incident with Khan earlier, he knew that Leonard needed this right now. He needed to know that Scotty loved only him.
“Thank you,” Leonard breathed when their lips parted. “I think I needed to hear that.”
Scotty’s smile turned even brighter. Leonard sounded much more confident. That was the spirit!
“Any time, love.”
The Scotsman looked back at the book.
“Now let’s try this again.”
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hoperays-song · 2 years ago
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Things Gooseless Did During Their Finals Weeks
(Because my school is bloody insane and my finals are over like two weeks instead of one. It’s like they want us to get ulcers.)
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1. Spammed their english professor with literary memes.
2. Wrote frog comics on the bottom of the paragraph response forms in environmental science.
3. Somehow slept for 17 hours straight immediately after my first Friday exam... I typically have insomnia, I pretty sure my family thought I was going into a coma.
4. Got compared to Hunter from The Owl House because of my eye bags twice in one day.
5. Pulled a few all nighters to turn in late assignments that even my professors forgot I had. I still barely passed but hey, I passed.
6. Had a sensory overload and a migraine attack because I wasn’t allowed headphones in the silent testing lab. And no I wasn’t allowed to wear them after either. Yay.
7. Had to write the sentence, “Asian carp have invaded Lake Eerie”, on previously mentioned environmental science final and immediately thought about that one news dude who made everyone believe aliens were invading.
8. Wrote three essays about warrior cats books. :)
9. Put fun facts in my answer book when I got bored and didn’t know how to respond to the prompt... So for every prompt. 
10. Bashed my art history professor on those essay response forms by listing everything I argued with him about all year. If you can’t tell, I’m petty apparently.
11. Drew a truly awful self portrait. Like next level horrible. :)
12. Wrote commentary on every question on my English (second) exam. Like actual running commentary on the questions. My teacher just sighed when she saw it (she laughed though, glared at me, but laughed while grading it).
13. Cried four times in one day. That was fun.
14. Found out that banana pudding has layers?!?!?! And is actually vanilla pudding with bananas?!?!?
15. Binged the whole of Netflix’s Queen Charlotte solely for the annoyed gay butlers trying to parent trap their bosses. 
16. Found three of said professors emails and now have a way to get in touch with them after graduation (NEXT WEEK!!!!), because they honestly know waaaayyyyy too much about my life for me not to at this point.
17. Correctly guessed how many questions I would get right on my mathematics final (80% baby).
18. Baked four whole trays of cookies to give to my professors as an end of year gift. I was a horrible student. They deserve at least cookies.
19. Started planning out a tattoo for me to get. :)
20. Wrote two thousand more words of the continuation fic as well as started on a few short ones for a different fandom and the warriors au.
21. Took a very unplanned hiatus (still not back, sorry y’all).
22. Watched a total of twenty hours of movie and tv show analysis videos within three days. 
23. Reached one year in one of my recovery programs and three months in another!!!!!!!!
24. Had to say goodbye to my friends and my daughter since now I won’t be in school with them next year (still in contact with several of them, daughter including, just can’t see her in person due to me moving). It sucked.
25. Worked on more character backstories that will be coming soon. Hopefully. As in once I get off hiatus, expect like four angsty backstories.
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dirtanddistance · 1 year ago
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Bill's Beer Run Race Report
Date: 29 October 2023
Location: Casey Key, Florida
It’s been said before that you can never go home again. Nothing is ever quite the same, including you. On the other hand, I would suggest that this is a cynical take that only looks at the merits of being able to return to something wholly static. As I learned this past weekend at Bill’s Beer Run, you can go home and find yourself grounded in all that has changed since you were last there.
I’ll begin this race report with the disclaimer that I have not run it since I was perhaps in high school. At least 13 years ago. I certainly was not running with my brother then, and my mom could still beat me on a good day. Dad was alive, and largely uninterested in road races (or cross country races, or track races - to be fair, these are not spectator-friendly events). Walking into the New Balance store near the bridge to the beach with my mom and brother was like walking into a place frozen in time; the merchandise on offer had changed, but the store itself was ever the same, as were the faces of the volunteers checking us in. Friendly faces from a different lifetime asked where I lived now, excitement growing in their eyes as they told me how much they’ve always wanted to visit Vancouver. We drifted off to the Mellow Mushroom nearby for dinner, another place seemingly untouched by the passage of years since I had last been inside. I wasn’t entirely sure when I was here last or with whom. I can still remember the first weekend of October 2018 when my dad and I sat in the patio section, splitting a veggie pie; he told me about his Parkinson’s diagnosis with his cane (a new accessory) perched against the table as though I’d never have guessed anything had gotten worse since we’d last met. Being in the Sarasota Mellow Mushroom is not a glum experience for me, despite that memory. Weirdly enough, I consider this place to have some weird energy that somehow brings my family closer whenever we are there. I digress, however; this is supposed to be a race report and musing on the passage of time, not a deep dive into my experiences in a local chain restaurant.
The weirdest part of this race is the complete staticness of the course. Bill’s Beer Run has a very straightforward format; you run 2.5 miles, turn around, and run back. The start and finish line has been in precisely the same place since the dawn of time. The scenery of houses and hotels and occasional glimpses of the beach look identical year in and year out. They claim that there is a ‘hill’ at one of the curves in the road; however, after living outside of Florida for more than 15 seconds I can arrogantly confirm that this is not, in fact, a hill but rather an excuse for a disappointing split. Running it 10 years ago or one week ago is the exact same experience visually and physically. You drown in the humid air whether you are acclimated to it or not. I imagine whoever ran the first one had a nearly identical experience to mine last weekend. The flora and fauna of Florida are also very static. Palm trees and scrubby plants that hardly budge and have no seasonal alter-egos stande firm through storms and hurricanes line the way and contribute to the sense that parts of Florida must exist outside of time itself.
The last time I ran this course as basically a child, I was with my mom. Running a race with my mom during her racing prime was one of the most obsessive experiences a human being can ever have during their mortal coil. You arrive at the location no less than 1+ hours before the starting time. Back in the day of race-day packet pick-up, you would need to be at that check-in desk at opening time and not a moment later. Numerous trips to the bathroom would occur, with much hemming and hawing about when to head to the start line (at least 20 minutes before start time) and how much water to drink before the final trek over. There is absolutely no science to any of these decisions. Once I went away to college, I was finally able to work out that this plan was actually absolutely insane and figure out something a bit more reasonable. Running a race as adult-me with my brother after going to bed at 3 a.m. (Halloween Horror Nights was fantastic, thanks for asking) is a much more zen experience. Get up 30 minutes before you need to leave the house. Leave the house at most one hour before the race starts, arrive no more than 30 minutes before the gun goes off. Slam an energy drink and some water, maybe a protein bar. Time your fluid intake so you can go to the bathroom within 15 minutes of the race starting. Run as hard as you can without either throwing up or passing out. High-five each other while staring blankly at the ocean, and then spend the following hours politely entertaining your mom’s friends who remember when you were 10 years old, reflecting on how as much as things may seem static here, you have changed and grown in ways you haven’t paused to notice.
Now, you’re probably wondering ‘Where is the actual race report?’ and that’s a great question. After writing up a couple of wild trail adventures, I can’t say I have much to tell you about running 5 flat miles out and back on a two-lane road in coastal Florida. I will tell you that an energy drink can absolutely make up for the fact that you didn’t sleep the night before but you will trade some of your sanity for that optimization. I can also say confidently that I would have rather been doing Squamish50 instead of redlining my system trying to go sub-40 in a road 5 miler. Racing in an area where the demographics skew older, they tend to do the age group awards in descending order. Which, for me and brochacho, was torture. This race also did age group awards 10 deep. We might be millennials, but we certainly sounded like boomers complaining about too many awards basically being participation trophies. I’m just deeply grateful that I somehow did not get a sunburn waiting around for them to finally announce my age group so I could claim my second-place pint glass and go home (and resist the urge to explain the UTMB-WAM/CMTR debacle to anyone who would listen).
Towards the end of the morning (as I was explaining the UTMB-WAM discourse to my mom, and breaking the news that I would, in fact, register to do Squamish 50M again), she asked if that was my thing now, if I was a trail ultra person. I hadn’t really thought about the ‘types’ of running being separate identities very much before then; I’ve never exclusively done one or the other on purpose, and even this past year in which I returned to the ultra scene, I maintained a few road races on the schedule. Being somewhere where trail races and ultras are not only accessible but same-day sell-out events, was not something I had ever conceived of before I moved to BC. The same scene simply does not, and perhaps cannot, exist in Florida. Watching the community here respond to the corporatization of the trail running scene, I realized how pure of a sport the trail offshoot can be and how the potential ramifications of ‘selling out’ isn’t really a thought in my hometown running scene, for better or worse. I am thankful that I get to have a foot in multiple communities, with distinct flavors and histories, and that I get to experience the very unique pleasures and pains of absurd community driven trail ultras as well as those of obscure hometown road races. Every mile we run takes us to a new place, whether physically or just within ourselves, and with every race or run we become a little more of who we are, no matter where in the world or the terrain underfoot.
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cindyyberman · 3 years ago
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more. | peter parker
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synopsis ── no matter how well peter thinks he knows you, you're apparently determined to prove him wrong. ♡
── peter parker x fem!stark!reader
genre ── fluff
word count ── 2k
note ── i've been waiting for this series for so long!! i'm really happy with how it's going so far. i'm going through a major account overhall on everything on my account. my fics are gonna be longer and i finally found a theme i guess, so i hope you like this different kind of style. i hope you enjoy this first part of the series :)
♡ series masterlist ; marvel masterlist ; misc masterlist ; prompts ; character list ; request rules
warnings ── food and eating ; i'm really bad at editing cause my attention span is like 1 second long but i think i caught all the typos?? if not then i'm sorry
I am more
Than I could ever show
I am more
Than the girl you think you know
Privacy was not something you were rewarded with as a child. Despite Tony’s best efforts at preventing it, the media would have a field day whenever you did anything. The photos from across the street, the articles speculating on your love life, the questions directed towards you during press conferences, they never bothered you much. They did at the beginning, but then once you saw a newspaper article claiming that you were Natasha’s daughter and she’d abandoned you because of your lack of combat skills, you’d learned not to care.
What mainly annoyed you was when the reporters acted like they knew you. They knew the details you and Tony had carefully selected that they were allowed to know. They knew what you were planning on majoring in, what your favorite color was, that you went on early morning jogs on the weekends. They didn’t know you, and you weren’t planning on letting them any time soon.
Someone that did know you fairly well was Peter, your boyfriend. He met you in Germany, you weren’t in combat but you were there to help. You’d been on the plane when he got there, moving your feet to give him a place to sit. He’d never been on a plane before, especially after what had happened to his parents. He’d expected to be nervous and anxious the whole time, but you had shared one of your earbuds with him and let him read your book (a textbook on biofouling) which didn’t interest him, but it gave him something to focus on. Not the book, that wasn’t what interested him, he understood nothing, but you did.
Of course, being raised by Tony, you had a penchant for robotics and physics, but environmental science was where your passions rested. You were working with your dad in the lab on making his tech more environmentally sustainable. Tony had homeschooled you until you met Peter, and you could have had at least one PhD by the time you were fifteen, but you’d surprised him. You wanted to go to high school.
You’d already been over all of the material, and your dad had argued about the security risks, and it seemed to be a closed subject until you met your boyfriend. Peter was the same age as you, he went to a science high school, and he was more than capable of protecting you if something went down. So, after swearing Peter to basically be your bodyguard, you were allowed to attend Midtown with him.
The two of you had grown much closer in the time you were there, he was your best friend, your partner in crime and, recently you noted, your first love.
Tony was pissed at first, kicking Peter out of the tower, and taking his suit away, but you calmed him down. You were his only daughter, his little girl and he just wanted you to be happy, and Tony could see that Peter made you happy.
You loved going to school. You got to spend more time with Peter, you met his friends, you and MJ bonding immediately. You sat down next to her at lunch, automatically swapping half of your sandwich for half of her fries. The two of you started talking about a book you’d both read when Peter and Ned sat down. “What are you guys talking about?” Peter kissed your cheek.
“The Art of Human Bondage,” MJ replied simply. Watching as the boys exchanged wary looks.
“What?” Peter asked you.
“The book MJ got me to read?” you said. “The one I haven’t shut up about?” you were trying to jog his memory. When he didn’t remember, you rolled your eyes, not really annoyed. “Damn, Parker. You don’t listen to a single thing I say, do you?”
Ned let out an ‘ooooooh.’ “Do you not know your girlfriend at all?” Peter looked at you, alarmed.
“Wait, no, no,” he rushed out. “I know you so well,” you laughed. You really didn’t care, just wanting to mess with him. “I know that your favorite movie is Spy Kids, and you watch it when you’re sad about things related to your work specifically. General sadness is when you break out The Parent Trap, because you don’t want to taint Spy Kids with sad memories and all the tech helps give you ideas. I know everyone, including your dad, thinks you’re allergic to carrots after you faked an allergy attack with a chemical you engineered when you were only seven years old, but in reality you just hate them, and I know that you’re coming over to my place after school to help me study for my calc quiz,” he looked over at you triumphantly.
“Yes, dear, you know me very well,” you squeezed his hand. “And yes, I will be at your place at four-thirty,”
“Why then?” he asked. “You can do any homework at my place if you want?”
“No, I have cheerleading tryouts this afternoon,”
Ned and Peter went quiet, the only person not surprised was MJ. “You have what?” Ned asked hesitantly, not wanting to upset you.
“Cheer tryouts,” you said, like it was obvious. You’d always wanted to try it, the teamwork aspect drawing you in along with the physical component. If you had something to do after school that was giving you physical activity, it would give you an excuse to skip training. You loved that your dad didn’t treat you like you were made of glass, letting you train with Nat, Steve or Bucky, but Friday training sucked. It was the most intense of the week, and you were exhausted from the week.
“You want to be a cheerleader?” Peter spoke up.
“What?” you scoffed, putting the fry in your hand down. “You think that because I’m smart, I can’t be a cheerleader?” They both took a second too long to answer before you stood up. "I've been training with Nat since I was like ten. Just because I don't go out in combat with the other Avengers doesn't mean it's because I can't,"
It was a stereotype you were a little sick of. You could be smart and pretty, and you had hoped Peter would be a little bit more supportive of you. It hurt a bit, not that you'd admit it. You didn't need his approval to do anything, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't at least want it.
"I think I'm finished with lunch," you said, standing up. Peter looked up at you, alarmed. You were leaving. You wouldn't be leaving if you weren't mad, he'd upset you. He was about to rush out an apology when you spoke up. "Coming, M?"
MJ nodded, leaving her lunch tray on the table. She knew Ned or Peter would dump it, and she was annoyed with them on your behalf.
You both had algebra after lunch, so you figured you could kill some time out by the bleachers, you still had nearly half an hour before your class. You were laying on a seat, head in MJ's lap while she drew something. "Am I overreacting?"
"No," MJ spoke without hesitation. You were her best friend, and she was yours, the only person she would ever allow so close to her, both physically and emotionally. "You're allowed to be upset, but Peter also didn't mean it,"
"I know," you said. "I just feel like everyone sees me as this delicate little flower who can't even do a sit-up," you said. It was true, despite the fact that your dad made sure you were trained by the best from a young age, he still didn't think you were capable of taking care of yourself, shown by the way that he literally made Peter promise to take care of you.
"Well, I know you're badass," she offered. "If Peter doesn't, I'll date you," you smiled up at her.
"I'll have to pass," you said as the bell rang. You groaned as you got up and she smirked.
"I thought you could do a situp," you flipped her off and she showed you her drawing, it was you in a Midtown cheerleading uniform, surrounded by a pile of dead bodies. You giggled. "Some of my best work,"
MJ gave you a friendly punch on the shoulder. "You'll do great this afternoon," you smiled at her, squeezing her arm as the two of you walked to your next class.
You had English last period with Peter and as he sat down you didn’t acknowledge him. “Darling?” he asked quietly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”
“Peter, I know you didn’t mean it like that but it still hurt,” you said quietly. “You know, I have so many people out there thinking they know what I can and can’t do, and I just thought that, considering you know that, you’d be a little more supportive,”
“I know, I know,” he said, earnestly. He really hadn’t meant what happened at lunch and he’d felt awful about it the entire time. “I’m sorry. I never meant to make it seem like you couldn’t do anything. I’m so sorry,”
He took your hand and squeezed it for a moment, but when your teacher walked in, you slipped it out of his grasp, leaving him staring at the spot on the desk your hands had rested for the rest of the lesson.
After school, you went to tryouts and you aced them. Of course, you lived with the Avengers, and they never went easy on you. Your negative feelings towards Peter went away when the coach announced who got on the team, your name being one of the few. You ended up walking to Peter’s apartment rather than calling Happy, still bursting with energy when you got there. “I made the team!” you said as you burst through his bedroom door.
Peter dropped his book, startled, but rushed off his bed to hug you, spinning you around. “I am so so proud of you,” he said, squeezing you. “I knew you could do it,” he pulled away, suddenly scared again. “You know that I always knew that right? I never thought you couldn’t do it, I guess I was just surprised that you wanted to, which I know, is dumb. I guess I don’t know you as well as I thought I did,”
You placed a gentle kiss on his lips, smiling widely, “I know, Pete. I know you knew. And it’s okay. You still know me better than anyone else does,”
You sat down on the bed beside him, Peter pulling you in for another hug. “I really am super happy for you, darling,” he said into your shoulder. “I can’t believe I’m dating a cheerleader,”
“Now I know why you’re dating me,” you joked. “That’s cold, Parker,”
“Well, Stark,” he said, poking you in the sides. “How do I know you’re not just dating me cause I’m Spider-Man?”
“You’re Spider-Man?” you asked, mock surprise filling your voice. “You kept that from me this whole time?”
“I guess you don’t know me at all,” he smiled and kissed you. “I love you,”
“I love you too, Spider-Man,” Peter huffed and went to stand up, but you pulled him back by the sleeves, bringing him into another kiss. “I love you, Peter Parker,”
“Hey,” May appeared in the doorway. “I stopped by that new bakery on my way home, got this really nice looking carrot cake. You guys want any?”
“No, thanks, May,” Peter shook his head. “She’s allergic,”
“Oh,” May looked over at you, surprised. “I didn’t know that,” you could feel Peter’s teasing gaze on you as you answered.
“Not many people do,” you shrugged. “It’s alright, though. I should be getting home,”
Peter walked you to the door, knowing Happy would be there soon to pick you up. “See? I know you better than anyone else,” he said, a smug smile on his face. “You know what else I know?”
“What, Peter?” You asked, a smile sneaking onto your lips.
Peter pressed his lips to yours, wrapping his arms around your waist. Your hands went around his neck as he held you for a moment, before pulling away breathless. “You impress me more and more every day,”
Listen to 'More' by Olivia Rodrigo here!
♡ taglist ♡
@tom-hollands-wife ; @bxnnywriting ; @kenzieriley
♡ sweet taglist ♡
@pvarker ; @peter-parkers-gf ; @mrosales16
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literaila · 3 years ago
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hi i have a fic request: the reader and spencer were dating and instead of emily dying the reader “died”. and during the time that the reader was presumed “dead”, spencer met maeve and they started dated and everything and when the reader came back there was a ton of tension and awkwardness. and after maeve dies the reader comforts spencer and like they grow closer and get together? ty ily<3
the art of knowing 
spencer reid x gn! reader 
warnings: criminal minds themes, angst, fluff, death. all that fun stuff. 
a/n: its four am. i take no credit for any of this. thank you for the request, my love. 
*
he couldn't let go of that tiny piece of paper.
vaguely, he thought it might smell like you, still.
through the ceremony, through the tears, the stains on the vinyl flooring that everyone was walking on, the fresh grass, and the silence that followed when everyone had said goodbye-- he just couldn't let it go.
it was just a small piece of paper. a hastily scrawled-out letter to him, from you, that was on something only slightly bigger than a sticky note. he knew the words by heart, and even if he didn't, he could’ve guessed what it said.
he knew as soon as he saw it on his desk, as soon as he noticed the lone flower, the organization of the flies he’d left sprawled out. he knew that you’d been there, and he knew that you were gone. how could he not have known?
he couldn't get the question out of his head, and he couldn't get this paper out of his hand.
“goodbye, spencer” was quite possibly the last thing he would ever hear from you.
no, it was. he knew that.
god, he was sitting at your funeral, watching other people cry over you. he’d been asked to say something and he’d refused because you wouldn't want him crying on some podium in front of everyone else. because he wanted to save that for when he got home. he knew all of these things, and yet he still didn’t understand.
he had to face the truth, teach himself the reality.
he was still clutching the paper when derek came over, when he offered spencer a hand on the shoulder, his never-ending support.
spencer was trying to wipe away any hint of water that might be left on his face even though he knew that it would only irritate his eyes more. that he would cry some more today anyway.
“i’m sorry,” derek said instead of asking him what everyone else had asked him today. as if there was a difference in the responses they might get.
“you didn't do anything,” spencer said instead of telling him that he’d already said that. that he already knew. that he was sorry too.
“i didn't do enough,”
“there wasn't anything else you could do.” spencer didn't know why he was reassuring him, but, at least it distracted from the flowers everyone was laying on the ground.
“reid…”
spencer stood up, he clutched the paper in his hand harder, willing himself not to think of those last words again. he didn't look at derek, but he didn't walk away. his body was numb, his fingers felt like nothing. withdrawal, he could have told you. this is what heartbreak was. withdrawal from chemicals he’d grown dependent on.
but somehow, the science wasn't enough.
“i feel like i should have known,” he whispered, letting his eyes sting again. he didn't have the energy it would take to blink the tears away.
“known what?”
the scoff that followed the question was anything but kind. “two years. two years spent with y/n and i didn't even get the chance to know-” he could feel the words leaking out of his chest, flowing like blood, like there wasn't enough pressure. “a whole different life i didn't even know about.”
he was mad. he was so angry. he felt so guilty, but he couldn't feel anything but mad at the little piece of paper in his hands. the goodbye you had known he would need.
“we all have secrets,” derek said, another reassurance that just made spencer want to scream.
“yeah, and i’m supposed to know everything.”
it was just a tiny piece of paper. it wasn't you, it wasn't anything like the person he had known. you had died, you were dead, and you had died someone that spencer had never even known.
really, how couldn't he have known?
*
he’d known about addiction long before that day. long before he could ever properly understand what it was-- that you could be addicted to a person, too.
but, he also knew, he learned, that you could stop it. that you could put addiction in a drawer far away and move on with your life-- that you would take it out sometimes, just to look at it, and still it would be okay. that you could have more than just a second chance.
he knew that, now, then, before all of this, even.
spencer was a genius, and he knew now how grief worked. he knew how the passing of time could really heal a person.
he knew that he was falling in love with a voice.
that there were multiple stages to addiction.
and one of those was leaving you behind.
*
he… he didn't know who this person was.
he didn't, he just didn't understand who was standing in front of him, who was there, why you were standing there right in front of him.
awkwardly smiling.
you didn't exist anymore. not to him-- not to anyone. you were dead, you were sitting in the ground somewhere, you were a ghost flying above his head, telling him it was okay to move on.
you were there, standing in front of him.
he didn't know you. he didn't know those eyes, and he didn't know that smile, and he didn't know who he was when you were here. he didn't know how you were here.
so he asked.
“how?” he swallowed, tried to get that dried feeling out of his mouth.
“y/l/n’s identity was strictly ‘need to know’ and Paris was a safe place to be reassigned until their security was assured.”
apparently, it was now because you were standing in front of him.
you were standing in front of him, and he wasn't addicted to you anymore. he didn't care, and he couldn't feel anything, even when he willed himself to. he felt like the corpse, like he was the one who was burried in the ground-- like you were supposed to be. 
but, no. no, because you were alive and he felt nothing.
and when you spoke, his heart didn't race. when he looked at your eyes, he didnt even classify them as familiar. they were something else, you were something else. 
he knew beause he had your last words memorized, and these certainly weren't them.
and god, he certainly didn't know you.
*
it didn't take long to understand. not for you, who had known spencer better than you’d known anything before. not for you, who used to study his face, watch his expressions until you got bored-- just for fun.
it didn't take long to understand that something had changed, to see the difference in the air between the two of you. to feel it. 
there was something different in his eyes, and, something had changed. even from the first moment he looked at you, that first pass of his eyes, even then. you knew. 
how couldn’t you know? 
they were different-- the brown, the swirl of colors, the familiarity. it was different. it was strange and terrifying, the change. 
those eyes weren't looking at you the same, he wasn't looking at you like he used to.
and you knew that, you could feel it. so half an hour later when you were all walking out of the room, you had to chase him down. no after how determined he was to get away.
“spence-” you followed him, focused on nothing else. “spencer, hey-”
he turned around. you were shocked, by his eyes, by his frown. you took a step back, and you felt more than you possibly could in a hallway at the bureau.
“what?” he asked, and you weren't sure. what else was there to say? what were you supposed to know? how were you supposed to guess what had changed?
“i…” you willed your eyes not to sting, willed yourself not to be affected by this certain feeling in your chest. “i missed you?”
and maybe it was the wrong thing to say, maybe it was. but the scoff from spencer, the scoff hurt.
“i missed you too, when i thought you were dead.”
you stepped back, hurt, concerned, anything but the happiness you’d hoped to feel when you finally saw him again. his words were unfamiliar, his eyes were unfamiliar, and you still didn't know what to say.
how were you supposed to fix this?
“i’m sorry,” you whispered, looking down. you felt small now. you didn't understand, no matter how much you thought you might.
you’d died, you knew. you were gone for months, but you’d missed him. you’d spent every day, every single one of them, hoping, dreaming, wanting to go back to him. you wanted to touch him, to hear his voice, to listen to him even if it was over a cellphone. you wanted to be alive to him, to be his still. you just wanted him back.
you’d spent every day wanting him back. 
but now, now all you wanted to do was to feel bigger. you wanted to see him smile, to know what had changed. you wanted the truth and nothing short of it. 
“y/n, i…”
and this. this wasn't anger. his voice, quiet as it always was, beautiful as it always had been, desperate like you’d never heard before-- his voice was full of guilt, of shame you couldn't recognize.
“i’m glad you aren't dead.”
“ha,” you deadpanned, angry now at the sound of his voice. angry now at the feeling building in your chest. you weren't used to him anymore, you didn't know him the same anymore. but still, you knew too much.
“really, really glad, but i’ve,” his voice cracked, his eyes fell, his body was slouching. you knew how to read this, you would’ve known even if it wasn't him.
you didn't want to hear the next words, but you had to, and you did.
“i met someone- i-”
and maybe it was grief, maybe it was anger, maybe it was desperation, but you smiled. maybe it was an effort to be enough.
“it's okay, spencer.”
those words were such lies, but you had to believe them, you had to feel like you believed them. you owed him that. 
“if you’re happy, then it's okay. that's all i’ve wanted, all i could hope for in-” you swallowed, took a breath that was just enough to keep you from falling on the floor, from begging at his feet. “paris,” you smiled wider, you took a step back, but this time just to give him space. “its okay,” you repeated.
and that had to be enough. it had to be enough because you were walking away.
but, really, spencer was the one who was leaving you behind. you should’ve understood sooner-- because how could you not have known?
*
you didn't bother to look at him.
it had been three weeks. three weeks since you’d broken up-- officially for you since you’d never actually gotten the chance to before, but you supposed you couldn’t actually break up with a corpse. three weeks since you’d smiled and walked away.
it had to be what was best for him. if spencer could find someone who made him happy, if spencer could find someone in the minuscule months you’d been gone, if spencer could move past you, then he deserved to. you couldn't be the one to stop that, and you wouldn't be mad because, honestly, you’d done it to yourself.
and he couldn't be mad because you weren't. because you’d let him go and he had no more reason to be mad. he could even go back to pretending you didn't exist if he wished to.
so you were both content. you both worked with each other, you both avoided eyes. you couldn't bother to look at him or his eyes when all you wanted to do was scream at the feeling in them.
because you’d known that feeling--before. because you’d been on the other end of that feeling before, because your eyes had mirrored his before, and because you knew how that felt.
and you were desperate to get it back. you wanted to pull him back, force him to stay in the cocoon of the two of you. you wanted to claw at him and never allow him to move away.
but that was selfish. you’d already been selfish enough. you’d made him grieve you, and now you had to return the favor.
the difference between the two of you was that you didn't know enough about addiction. you didn't know that despite the time that had passed, your withdrawal had never actually gone away. you didn't know how it worked and so you didn't know that it was still there.
you just saw the look in his eyes. a look you’d used to create. the look of love, of admiration, of hope. love, you used to feel, you think.
when you looked at him all you could see was the feelings he had for someone else.
so no, you didn't bother to look at him.
*
here was what spencer knew about grief: it passed. it was just withdrawal until it wasn't. love was just another addiction, just some more chemicals in your brain, just an idea that you clung to.
it would pass, he knew.
but how could he have known this would happen again?
it would pass, eventually.
but how was he supposed to live through it twice, but really only once?
because you were still here. because you were alive, and not dead, and you were walking him home. you were making sure he got there safe.
and you weren't dead, but she was.
and how was spencer supposed to cope with that?
how could he grieve, when he really didn't know how?
*
if this had been a fraction of what it was like when spencer thought you died, if this was anything like that-- you couldn't bear to see it.
it was like repetition, it was like deja vu, like a memory.
you saw his eyes, and you saw his hopelessness, and you saw yourself reflected back in the colors of his face. you saw the grief, the pain, the anger, the loss.
you couldn't bear to watch this, not then, not now. not when you still felt angry, not when you were still angry.
they had all pleaded with you-- go talk to him, they said. talk to him, you’ll understand.
but that wasn't fair because spencer hadn't died for you. you’d left him and spencer had survived. it wasn’t fair because you still hadn't learned how to deal with any of it. you still couldn't let go, move on, as he had.
so then, why were you standing in front of his door, holding a card addressed to spencer from all of your friends?
well, you couldn't bear to stay away. and you almost couldn't bear to face him when he opened the door, but somehow, you did. somehow, you spoke first.
“hi, spencer,” you said, waving at him, moving back a little, just to give him some space.
“what’re you…” he looked around, looking for someone with you, someone else. his voice was rough like he hadn't talked in days. he looked like a skeleton, standing there in front of you. “...doing here?” he looked you up and down, but he wasn't really looking at anything.
you noticed the hand he had on the door, the subconscious way he had begun to close it, the hand he was holding over his chest, blocking you from him.
“the team sent me, they’re really worried,” your voice was shaking, and you had no idea why. “i brought a card from them, and- and i wanted to see how you were doing.”
his brows furrowed, like what you’d said didn't make any sense. you copied him, concerned with your own sanity. wondering again, why you were here?
“no offense,” he started, standing up taller, looking and sounding anything like spencer, anything but pleasant. “but we aren't really friends, are we?”
there was some irritation rolling up your spine at his words, but his face was innocent. he wasn't being malicious, he wasn't trying to make you feel ridiculous, and he wasn't trying to hurt you anymore. he was too kind for that, you knew. 
you took a breath in, tried to smile. “i guess not,” you sighed, looking down at the ground with unmistakable shame, but then you looked back up. “but, i care about you. i want to be here for you. i- i want to be.. here.”
and no matter how closed off he looked, no matter how strange his face looked, no matter how much you knew he didn't want to, he opened the door and let you in.
and that was how it started. your friendship with spencer.
really, who could’ve known?
*
"i like your apartment," you said while the two of you walked through it. while spencer led you through whatever this strange place was.
"yeah, well, i couldn't keep the apartment after..." he trailed off, no remorse, no feeling in his voice.
you went to sit on his couch, strange and different, but he stayed standing. he paced around the floor, mumbling things under his breath you couldn't understand.
the tightlipped smile you had on your face was doing nothing to conceal your emotions.
"after i died."
he looked up at that, shocked by your crudeness. you rolled your eyes, pulling off your jacket.
"that's a shame, i really liked that kitchen."
spencer bit his lip, continued his pacing, muttered "i know" under his breath. his irritation would've made you laugh if he wasn't looking so insane.
you saw the bottles on the table, the mugs laying around, the papers and books thrown across the floor-- all the things you didn't want to see, you saw them. and you almost couldn't bear it, almost tried to pretend you still hadn't noticed them. but, you were familiar with this.
he did this before when he was still in love with you. when he was stressed.
despite how hard you might try, you couldn't just forget everything about him.
"do i need to ask spencer?" your voice was softer now, quieter. you knew him, and he knew what you were asking.
"do you really want the answer, y/n?" he retorted, rolling his eyes.
maybe sometime, you'd tell him that his defense mechanism was sarcasm. maybe sometime, you'd let him know how annoying it could be.
"it's not going to be what i want, but, neither is anything else." it was a subtle remark about the situation, you hoped spencer hadn't heard those last couple of words. "i don't want this for you, spencer, but i'm here to listen, and so i will."
he stopped pacing, stopped stepping over books and around paperwork. he stopped moving, and it reminded you of that night.
it reminded you of him collapsing in on himself, it reminded you of the anger you knew you didn't deserve to feel, the relief you knew you would never get.
it reminded you of further back when all you could do was smile and let him go.
you'd known him for so long, but you'd never seen him broken like this.
your thoughts distracted you from spencer, who was sitting next to you now, running an agitated hand through his hair, turning himself away from you.
"do you know what grief does to the body?" he asked.
yes, you could have answered. yes, im feeling it right now.
but instead, you said "no," and waited for him to continue.
he did, begrudgingly, a few moments later. "the shock factor causes a spike of adrenaline in your system-- a lot like someone gets in a bad accident --and then when the adrenaline wears off, your body has no choice but to succumb to the pain."
and you, well, you could have told him that, but you let him continue.
"a lot of people have documented actual inflammation which attributes to health issues after a loved one has..." he stopped there. he paused, and his eyes were gone. his feeling was gone, his words were gone.
you could practically see him disappearing on the couch, right next to you.
you could see him slipping away, the reality sinking in further than it could before, and so, you started talking.
you had to say something, and this would have to be enough. your remorse for him would have to be enough to get you through this.
because otherwise, how could you stand it?
"do you ever get that moment in the morning, when you've temporarily forgotten everything bad and it just feels... peaceful?" the words were a shock to both of you. the sound of your voice. 
you weren't looking at him, but the wall, willing yourself not to feel that reminder. not to think of any of it. "do you ever get that?" you repeated, eyes off. 
spencer nodded, small, hard for you to see when you were actively trying not to look at him-- but enough to continue.
"it's like our conscious and subconscious make a pact, to give us that split second of peace." you laughed, bittersweet, and looked at him. you turned towards him, making sure he was looking at you.
making sure he couldn't tell what you were thinking about, that this was about anything but him.
"when that relief happens, spencer, you have to grab hold of it-- just hold onto it."
he stared at you, brows furrowed.
"you reach, and you grab it, and you keep it." you nodded along with your words, feeling that sick crawling up your chest, feeling that grief along with all the guilt.
this wasn't fair to him, you knew that, but if this could help-- even a little bit --you had to try.
"why...?" spencer tried to start, clearing his throat to keep his word from breaking.
"that's how you get past it." you motioned to him, to the floor, to the things all around his home, and finally, to yourself. "passed all the shock, and adrenaline, and all the sick."
spencer was looking down, not at you anymore, not at anything.
you used to know those eyes, you were sure. you used to understand every thought that ran through his head, you used to remember the person you had been with him. you used to be able to think of him without cringing, without that sick feeling in your stomach, wrapping itself around you like a blanket.
you used to understand, and now you didn't. but this had to be enough. this had to be enough for you, to be here with him.
"okay?" you asked, softer, gently. "okay?" you repeated.
and he nodded.
*
you went over once a week. just for the first couple of months. you went over to spencer's, you watched movies, you held his hand and squeezed his shoulder.
you managed not to tear yourself into pieces, managed to actually smile when you were around him. you managed to do it all, managed to do enough to keep the nightmares away, to keep those circles from under his eyes.
and that's all you wanted, really. that's all you needed. as long as spencer was okay, okay as he could be, as long as he was coping, moving on, doing everything a normal human being should. as long as he was doing all of that, you didn't need anything else.
and, and if there was a tiny piece of you, locked away in all the dark parts you tried to keep secret-- if there was a piece of you that was hopeful, that was holding onto something other than just tiny moments, if there was a piece of you that thought maybe he would just-
if there was any piece of you that thought differently, well, you would ignore it.
you went over once a week, just to make sure he was okay.
and really, where was the harm in that?
*
"'the shining' tonight?" he asked, walking alongside you, carrying the coffee you had just bought for him.
"why do you insist on watching that at least once a month-"
"this is actually only the third time,"
"it was enough the first two." he smiled at you, and you couldn't keep the grin from slipping back.
"sounds good," he concluded, walking along.
and if you followed him, well, you were just being a good friend.
*
"do you think i should get a haircut?" you asked, walking around his desk, prancing more like. prancing like he was your prey and you were about to eat him.
the thought made you giggle.
"your hair looks fine," he answered, not really paying attention. instead, he was marking something off of a page, flipping to the next one in barely a second.
"real nice, spence. as long as you think it's fine-"
"did you know that the average person gets around 150 haircuts in their lifetime?"
"yeah, spencer, and all those people have dead ends," you groaned and he hummed.
and if you liked the way the light was reflecting off of his face, hiding the shadows you knew were there, well, you were just bored.
*
"spencer-" he was running away from you, running away from whatever ghost was following him.
you had to stop chasing him, but somehow, you knew you wouldn't be able to even if you tried.
"spencer, will you just-" you tried again, running far enough ahead so that you could stand in his way.
you couldn't bear to see the blank look in his eyes, the emotionless void you would never get used to.
"yes?" he asked, like you were a child like you were a little kid and you needed him to fix something.
it was condescending and rude and you just wanted to yell at him-- to yell at yourself for being irritated.
"are you okay?" you asked instead. you hated the words, but you hated this feeling more.
"i'm fine." and then he attempted to get past you.
"spencer, those girls, they were all-"
"all what, y/n? all shot? all murdered?"
"that's not what i mean-"
"that's the job, y/l/n. you should know that."
he was gone after that. disappearing, like you both had before.
and, if you wanted to scream, to bang your fists against the wall until it broke, to beg him to just listen to you, to sleep in his bed and watch him while he slept, well. you were going to ignore it. grief wasn't an object, and it wouldn't go away.
you would know.
*
some nights, particularly on the ones when spencer was busy, when there was a case and you weren't supposed to be sneaking into each other's hotel room, on those nights you felt colder than you ever had before.
you felt that feeling again-- the one spencer had taught you about.
the sick that almost made your insides collapse. the sick that was going to fill you to the brim until it couldn't anymore, numb you to the very edge. the sick that had been there for over a year, a long year full of death. full of life and nothing but destruction. the infection that should've been gone ages ago.
on those nights, you tried to hold onto reality, tried to remind yourself of what had actually happened.
it was all a chain of events, really. and it was truly all of your fault.
you couldn't be angry because if you wanted to be angry at someone, it had to be yourself.
it couldn't be spencer, or maeve, or hotch, or the universe.
just you.
and the sick would pass, you knew. the next day when spencer would hand you your coffee mug, when he would say something-- anything --and you would listen. it would all go away.
and if those feelings, if that reality that you kept trying to avoid, if that wouldn't go away, well. you were going to have to let it go because you couldn't keep going like this. pretending.
honestly, how couldn't you know?
*
recently, the effort you'd put into keeping at least a three-foot distance between you and spencer was tireless.
to give him space, obviously. to avoid bumping into him when you were walking, to keep yourself from tripping into him.
it was just convenient, you told yourself. nothing else to it.
except, on this night, after a long day at work, after spencer had sat down right next to you with a book in hand, so much closer than you wanted. well, you couldn't just simply move away.
there was no space on this couch anyway.
technically, you were supposed to be watching a movie. technically, spencer had picked this one out-- something about the discovery of water, you thought --and you had no interest in it. technically, he was completely ignoring it.
before, two years ago-- almost, that was. almost two years without him. before, two years ago, you would've bickered with him about it until he gave in. until he put down the book, clicked a button on the remote you'd misplaced, and lean in so close to you that you could barely breathe. it was a routine, you were sure, and back then you wondered if he brought the book out just so you would tease him about. like it was an excuse to kiss you if he needed one.
not that you were thinking about that. not that he was doing it again. not that it mattered, honestly.
just a memory that hit you, is all, as you stared at the screen, pretended to listen to the words when all you wanted to do was put some distance between the two of you.
it was getting hard not to feel that pull, not to let that feeling trap you.
"spencer," you whispered, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye.
he hummed instead of answering, didn't look up from the page.
"you're cold,"
he quirked an eyebrow at you, turning towards you only slightly. he was only a little bit closer now, but it only proved you were lying some more.
he was desperately hot.
"do you need a blanket?" he asked, the picture of innocence.
at least one of you was.
"no, just maybe a little more space. don't want to get hypothermia," you coughed, an attempted laugh maybe, and tried to move away.
"you're not showing any of the symptoms of hypothermia-- are you fatigued, or is your heart racing?"
you would've laughed if he wasn't moving his face closer to yours, trying to check your pupils discreetly.
"um, no, spencer. i was kidding, i'm just going to--" you moved, an inch, and then another, smiling at him.
it wasn't too suspicious. and the movie was halfway over.
"okay,"
and you looked back at the screen...
only to feel his eyes on you a moment later. you turned your head slightly. he hadn't picked his book back up, hadn't moved an inch from before.
"aren't you going to read your book again so you can keep bothering me, reid?"
you didn't need to look to see the smile. "is it bothering you?"
you threw your head back, turning so he could see you roll your eyes. his brown ones, impossibly bright, impossibly beautiful were staring back at you, mischievous. you bit the inside of your cheek and then laughed.
"no, of course not, spencer." you turned towards the tv again. "i am very interested and equally involved in the discovery of water," you waved your hand for him to continue.
"that's not actually what..." he trailed off, freezing at something.
"are you okay?" this time, you didn't hesitate to move closer to him, to place a hand on his shoulder and get him to look at you.
his heat was excruciating and addicting. a dangerous combination.
but your concern beat your stupid feelings, and so, you didn't move away.
"deja vu..." he said, head-turning, eyes looking down on you.
"what?"
"we've done this before," was all he said, continuing to stare like he didn't know what was happening. staring at you with strange eyes, strange wide eyes.
it was only scaring you a little bit. you didn't understand.
"we've never watched this movie before," you reassured as if he was worried about that. as if that was the problem.
"no," he said, moving a foot closer, breaking the boundary you had put between the two of you. "no, but we've done this before."
he was too close, now.
"spencer... what?" you looked from the screen to him, nervously, trying not to feel intimidated, small. he hadn't been this close in so long.
"just-" and then he was leaning in. he was leaning close enough for his breath to trail across your skin, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his cheek, that you could barely see his eyes anymore.
close enough to kiss you.
but, you couldnt breathe like that.
and so, with all the grace you had, you moved back. so far back, and put your knees up as a barrier between the two of you. anything to keep him away.
"um, spencer i don't know if you forgot-" he tried to interrupt, but you weren't paying attention. "i died, remember? and then- and then, um, you moved on and, we haven't done that in a long time and-"
“y/n-"
"-we're just friends, right? and friends don't really get that close- we shouldn't get-" but he was, he was getting that close, and your stuttering was slowing because you couldn't focus on anything but him.
"i remember," spencer whispered, but his eyes weren't on yours anymore. no, they were on your lips, staring down at the place he hadn't bothered to look at in two years. at your face, which he hadn't seen until now.
"we cant-"
"can i kiss you?" he asked, instead of paying attention, instead of remembering, instead of understanding that this was going to tear you from the inside out.
"i don't think that's a good idea, spencer, i really don't..." you trailed off because he was moving back.
"i'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to," he promised, looking so beautiful, speaking so plainly. 
and those words, they made your heart start beating again. because who was he to assume?
"no! it's just- we haven't kissed. we don't kiss, anymore."
it was a painful reality, and you almost felt bad for saying it when you saw the wince on spencer's face, but, it was the truth. you couldn't deny either of you from the truth.
"i know it's familiar, and maybe comforting, but i don't think it's a good idea." you breathed in once, wanted to scream at yourself for saying those words. wanted to scream because you'd wanted to kiss spencer since the moment you'd stopped.
"no, that's not why i want to kiss you," his voice broke on the word kiss, and you attempted to scramble yourself on the couch, to move so that he wouldn't have the opportunity to convince you.
it wouldn't take much.
"it'll just hurt us both more, spencer." your voice was monotone because you weren't sure if you could get this out any other way. the stinging around your eyes had to be fake because you weren't crying.
honestly, you didn't care.
and then, spencer got up, walked away.
and you had to care. you had to care because, despite the fact that he'd left you, that you'd been grieving for him for the last two years, that you missed him more than it was possible to miss another person-- despite all of that, he was your best friend.
he'd become your best friend, had been that since you'd first met, and you couldn't let that go now.
so you followed, you followed again, and called his name again, and begged him to come back, for the first time out loud.
but when he came back out of his bedroom, all you heard was the crinkling of paper.
you just saw spencer's never-ending serious face, but, mixed was the tiniest him of embarrassment. the pink splattered across his cheek, the hesitation to look at you.
he was holding something.
"what's that?" you asked, distracted from the issue, momentarily focused on just him and not the past.
except, when he held it up, you could see that it was the opposite.
"it's the letter you wrote me when-" he swallowed, smiling a sad smile at you and then looking down again. "when you left."
you'd left it on his desk, so he'd find it first. so that he would be the first one to know.
"oh," you breathed out, shocked, sick.
"i kept it because it was the last piece i had of you," he folded it into tiny pieces, then unfolded it along the creases. it looked like a practiced motion "i used to keep it in my shirt pocket, but when i met maeve, i put it in my bedside drawer."
goodbye, spencer. you'd wrote. you'd cried while writing it, cried while you drove away, cried when you woke up in the hospital, cried every night after you came back.
it was excruciating to leave without spencer, but you'd learned it was worse to have him leave you when you were still there.
you'd have traded that feeling for anything else.
you breathed in, shakily. you didn't like these memories, you didn't like that he was digging them back up, but you had to listen. you wouldn't leave, now.
"i put it in my bedside drawer because it's important to keep mementos-- its actually a method of coping, and some people believe it strengthens relationships, and you were gone, but i thought that-" he stopped. took a deep breath in, closed his eyes and counted to three. you could tell, you knew him that well.
you smiled, despite the stinging in your eyes, the pricks on your skin, the crawling up your stomach.
"i kept it because it was the last words i got from you, and i couldn't let that go. i still cant, y/n."
you couldn't process these words, you couldn't process this feeling. it was detrimental, and you had noting you could say.
"i don't know if you can ever stop loving someone, i mean," he snorted, looked right at you like he didn't know what he was saying. "i know you can learn to love someone else, but, i don't know if you can ever get rid of that feeling... of that-" and he was still looking at you, but he wasn't talking anymore.
and you weren't breathing because this was a dream, because you would not allow yourself to wake up from this, and you would not start crying in front of him.
you were selfish selfish selfish.
"i don't know how i couldn't have known i was still in love with you, but i didn't, and now," his eyes, his voice, his entire demeanor softened. he was molding, changing right in front of you. it had to be impossible. "i do. i know."
spencer had never spoken this much, he didn't confess, he didn't not know things, so this had to be fake. it had to be.
"spencer," you gasped out, shocked by the sound of your own voice. shocked to find out that you still couldn't breathe.
shocked to watch him move forward, smile the same smile you thought you might've fallen in love with.
"you know now, so, can i kiss you?"
you couldn't remember the last time the two of you had kissed. you thought that it might've been right before bed that night, that you might've kissed him on his forehead while he was sitting on his desk, that he might've kissed up your neck while you cuddled each other to sleep.
but you couldn't remember.
and so, it was painful to even utter the word "yes".
it was painful to feel that again. that lovely, lovely feeling.
his lips against yours, softer than you could remember, slower than you'd ever imagined possible. so much better than you could've thought another persons lips could be.
and you wanted to gasp, to breathe, but you didn't dare move away from him.
this was too good, this was too waited for, this was too painful to move back.
and so you didn't and neither did he. neither of you could.
you grabbed at each other, threaded your hands through his hair, held onto his face like you would never let go, and you kissed him like you loved him.
because you did.
and then, when you did break, when you were sure, you moved back and couldn't stop the slip of "spencer" that came from your lips.
your puffy, recently kissed lips.
and when you finally got the courage to open your eyes, the most beautiful smile you could've seen was there. waiting for you.
"you're my moment." spencer said, he whispered as if it was a realization.
"what?" you asked, still breathless, still addicted to a kiss you hadn't allowed yourself to think of, really, in two years.
"that moment in the morning, the moment of peace when everything is still good... you're my moment."
your heart stopped again. stopped, because this was you, these were your words coming from his lips.
"do you remember?" he asked, thinking of those words from those months ago, those words you'd told him in an effort to comfort yourself. to remind yourself that he was still there.
you nodded and spencer smiled.
"you're my peace and my relief, y/n," he pulled your face closer to his, leaned in, and it was like nothing you'd ever felt before.
his smile, his lips, his words.
this was a strange feeling.
"i'm holding onto you, now. i don't think i can let go,"
these weren't his words, but they were enough.
you were smiling, you realized. even with the tear stains down your face, even with the puffy lips, even with the heartache and the addiction, even with the years between the two of you.
you were smiling.
"i love you, spencer."
and so was he.
because really, how couldn't you have known?
my masterlist here. 
352 notes · View notes
nctsworld · 3 years ago
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skateboard love
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✩‌ yangyang x reader | skater boy!yangyang | college au | fluff | 2.2k
SUMMARY | yangyang tries to get you to skateboard for the first time and in doing so, you’re taken back to when you first met him. // for @notnctu​’s beginning collab! WARNINGS | slight injury (reader trips over a curb), one swear word, kissing RATING | teen+ TAGLIST | @infnteen​
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“I can’t do this,” you mutter, shaking your head in defeat.
The ocean waves clamour nearby as you stare down at the skateboard and concrete pavement beneath your sneakers in frustration.
The weight of your helmet and the wrist guards are blatant in your every movement. Sure, it’s a little embarrassing at your age, but it’d be best to rather be safe than sorry.
Thankfully, they’ve been coming in handy during the times you almost fell and slipped off of your boyfriend’s skateboard. It may have been his idea to try to learn, but you weren’t opposed to it, thinking it’d be easy.
They say things are easier said than done, and now you’re forced to admit skateboarding definitely falls under that list.
“Yes, you can,” Yangyang softly says. Beside you, he gives your hand a gentle squeeze, causing you to peer into his gleaming eyes and bright smile.
Despite the recentness of your relationship, your boyfriend’s patience and encouragement feels like routine, like he’s been by your side for your entire life. His words don’t fall on deaf ears; you parrot his smile and muster a small nod, albeit glancing away shyly.
“Just think about all the times you’ve watched me skate past the library and copy what I did.”
Petulantly, you stick your tongue out. “It wasn’t that often.”
Disbelief reflects back at you in the form of an eyebrow raise.
“Really?”
“Really!”
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Around mid-September, in the most modern, glass-structured library on campus, you found a studying area that was perfect for you.
Main floor, nearby the entrance doors for an easy exit when class was about to roll around. A high stool chair that was cushioned comfortably for endless hours of equal parts studying and procrastination. Plugs and desk space galore.
Above all, it was perfect because you had the picturesque view of the boy who always skated every other day around 11:50am towards his next class across the wide stoned boulevard in front of the library.
You noticed him the first few times when you initially sat upstairs. Even from afar and above, your interest was piqued over how coolly he skated past all the students. There were only so many students who biked to their next class, and even less who skateboarded.
And after you decided to sit downstairs for once to finally steal a closer glimpse of him, you were completely smitten upon capturing his handsome features.
Thus, your heart constantly raced in anticipation when 11:50am hit, as students scattered all across campus during this transition period. 
With a thumb tucked in his pocket and headphones over his ears to boot, the mystery skater boy often slid past around 11:55am, making your mind wonder where his former class was and where he was going. Was he in Engineering? Arts? Business?
The latter option didn’t seem likely since his style didn’t echo the stereotypical look of the faculty. Dark coloured hoodies and sweaters, bomber jackets, and skinny jeans were his usual choice of fashion, alongside the occasional baseball cap. And on the days he wore his cap backwards, he was truly in his skater element.
No matter, you always swooned with your chin perched atop your fist or resting inside your palm as he passed by. The brief sighting of him easily became the highlight of your day.
You would be lying if you said you didn’t try to look for him in your classes, but to no avail. You had to live with the fact that you’d only get to know him in passing as he skated on by the library.
When the mere hoodies and sweaters were exchanged for heavier, thicker jackets and coats, he still continued to traverse across campus via his unsurprising mode of transportation. You especially admired his dedication on the days filled with rain and wind, wishing there was some way for you to ease his trips to his next class.
All throughout the couple of months, he was consistent in attending that one class.
Except one day.
It was a Friday, about a week or two near finals season. The weather was quite chilly now, but snow wouldn’t be an issue until after winter break and well into the next semester, so there wasn’t any reason for him to not use his skateboard still.
Maybe he was sick at home, you thought. Pouting, you tried not to dwell over the stranger because that’s all what he was. 
Someone you didn’t know, someone you only watched from afar. Someone that filled your daydreams, pondering what he’d be like and what’d you two could talk about... but nevertheless a stranger.
Oddly enough, about an hour past noon, someone dragged you out of your thoughts momentarily as they unusually sat nearby your spot. 
The unspoken library etiquette was to sit as far away from others for more personal space, especially in the area where you frequented. You tried your best to ignore the shuffling of the person placing their laptop and books onto the elongated wall-length table, feigning laser-focus on your notes.  
But a few moments later, you heard a whisper coming from their direction.
“Is this your favourite spot in the library?”
“Hm?” you hummed, dragging your headphones down to your shoulders as you swivelled towards the seated stranger. Air seized in your lungs and your eyebrows shot up.
The gorgeous skater boy glowed with rosy cheeks from the cold air outside, paired with his stunning smile. You realized this was the first time you’ve ever seen him smile—preciously, by the way, with his teeth on full display—and your heart stirred like crazy.
A beat stretched out. Your jaw hung in shock and you blinked blankly. Guess you solved the mystery as to where he was today.
He beamed more intensely at your awe struck and continued to whisper, “I always see you sitting here when I get to my next class.”
“Uhm,” your jaw snapped up, prior to your dry gulp. “What?”
“Yeah,” his deep chuckling tickled your ear. God, of course a smooth voice matched a face like that. “you stare out the window so cutely whenever I pass by the library.”
A record scratched, then you rewound the moment in your head. Not only did he knew you existed but...
Did he just called you cute?
Catching on with awareness over his own words, the skater boy pouted to one side. His cheek jutted out adorably and red seemed to crawl over them, progressing over to the tips of his ears too.
Light giggling from both parties filled the space, with you tucking your hair behind your ear and him tugging on the ends of his sweater paws.
“So, are you skipping class?” you asked, tilting your head curiously.
“Yeah,” he replied, gesturing towards his busy study set-up ahead of him. It was a similar scene to yours—notes layered and layered upon each other, a laptop which displayed more notes, and a few textbooks were open too. “When you need to skip a class to study for another class...”
You nodded sympathetically, pointing a finger to your organized mess to imply the same. “Finals season.”
He nodded as well in unity and you two exchanged another round of smiles.
“I’m Yangyang.”
With that, introductions were made and bits of information were shared. Your hunch was right—he was in Engineering, but he also had some elective labs that were being held in the Science side of campus. Made sense why he had to navigate across campus from one end to the other.
Before the conversation began to get carried away, he issued a small apology. “Sorry, I really shouldn’t be interrupting your studying. I’ll leave you be.”
Admittedly, it caught you off guard. You wanted to pipe up about how he wasn’t interrupting, that you wanted to dive into getting to know him more. You’ve seen him practically almost every day for the last couple of months and you didn’t want to let this chance slip through your fingers.   
Yet, at the same time, you begrudgingly knew he was right. You had to study for your upcoming in-class final, so you held your thoughts back and unwillingly turned back to your responsibility at hand. 
It was difficult to study with skater boy being in the same vicinity as you—practically an arm’s length away from you—but you eventually tampered down your jitters and honed your attention.
Hours passed. Neither of you really shifted much besides the casual stretching or the much needed break to the bathroom.
Darkness loomed in the winter sky and out of the corner of your eye, you noticed him writing, which he hadn’t done during the time he’d been there.
And then, after an ear-piercing slow rip of paper that echoed in the library, he slid that piece of paper in your direction with one simple question that ignited the spark for the beginning of you and him—
I know we just met, but do you want to go out sometime?
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“’Cause if I recall...” Yangyang continues, breaking you away from your bout of reminiscing. He absentmindedly tucks away some loose strands of hair sticking out of your helmet. “You watched me at least since the beginning of last semester—”
“Nu-uh,” you cut in, lying in a childish tone.
“Yuh-huh,” he rebuttals.
Under the warm afternoon sunlight, you two begin to have a staring contest, squinting and playfully seething at one another. When your boyfriend squints harder with a ruffle of his nose, you follow suit. Eventually, you give in with a sigh.
“Okay, fine. Even if I did watch you a lot, it doesn’t mean I can just absorb your skateboarding skills through memory.”
Cockiness fades over his joking exterior as he flashes you a shit-eating grin. “It’s cause you were too busy focusing on my handsome face.”
Becoming second nature for you by now as he’s often like this, you roll your eyes and lightly punch him in the arm, but... he isn’t wrong.
And from your lack of an articulate response, Yangyang knows he’s right.
Sparing you from injuring your pride further, he swings the conversation back to what you were doing here in the first place. 
A hand of his steadies you by the bottom of your back. “Balancing feels weird, I know, but you’ll get the hang of it. Let’s try again.”
Releasing a lengthy exhale, your head bounces fervently in hopes that false confidence and your boyfriend’s support can morph into a successful skateboard run.
The careful push he gives you is ample enough to have you ride down the street by yourself. Your body wavers side by side and you fear that you’ll teeter to a stop like all the other times, but somehow, your foot swipes across the pavement, carrying you further down the street.
It’s not fast by any means, but as you persistently execute it, you gain traction and see yourself finally riding without any issues.  
“Yangyang, I got it. I got it!” you shriek as you quickly glance back towards him.
He radiates in response and gets lost in you, equally proud that you finally found your balance and basking in how stunning you look as you coast down the beach side street.
However, his trance breaks when he sees you’re about to hit the edge of a street curb.
“Babe, watch ou—”
The scene happens fast. You’re suddenly laying on a patchy part of the grass, with the skateboard by your feet. Yangyang bolts to you, hunching down as he daintily tugs you to sit upward.
“You okay?” he pants nervously.
At first, you nod without a thought since the helmet and wrist guards have saved you from any potential major injuries. 
However, your boyfriend’s eyes widen when out of nowhere, you draw in air between clenched teeth. Your butt feels as if it’s on fire, since it was actually the body part that mostly broke your fall.  
He suggests to sit here for a while to let the pain dissipate, reassuring you’ll be fine from his own past experiences. 
As you rest awkwardly beside him on the grass, placing weight on your hip rather than your rear end, he aids you in ridding of your safety gear. Once they’re off, he kisses your hand tenderly.
“Maybe we should leave the skateboarding to me, for now,” he mumbles softly into your skin, leaving another kiss upon your hand.
You mope in agreement. “Maybe so...”
Caressed in his arms, you link eyes with him. Your eyes flutter to a close while he delicately eases you into him by the back of your neck.
The intense pressing of his lips against yours feels heavenly, almost entirely sedating your mild pain. He kisses you deeper, disregarding everyone and everything in proximity. You reciprocate it all back eagerly, cupping his cheek and gripping onto his strong frame as you do so.
Peeling away breathlessly, you tip your forehead against his. “Should we go back to the library and have me watch you longingly from our old spot?”
Yangyang hurriedly shakes his head.
“Nope. Never again,” he replies, his thumb stroking your cheek. “If you’re watching me skateboard, you’ll be doing it by my side from now on, beautiful.”
A chuckle trickles from you. You’re about to retort back, but your one and only skater boy diverts your train of thought, dragging you in for another long, blissful kiss. 
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mystic-sky · 4 years ago
Note
A fan fic of Gojo Satoru inspired by the song Heaven by Julia Michaels 😭 I enjoyed your writings 🥰🥰🥰
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The moment you met him was ingrained into your brain, even years after you both parted. It had been raining that day, possibly 7:30pm, and you were held up in a cafe for shelter. You had been dosing off a bit after your classmates left you an hour or so prior. You regretted staying up so late to watch that sit-com the night before. But it was a Friday, and you didn’t have class the next day. The paper was finally finished and you proudly packed your things together. You kept fantasizing about how your efforts during the week were soon to be rewarded by slumber. 
The sound of thunder brought you back to reality within the quiet coffee space. 
“I guess I should sit back down,” you said to yourself. You were standing by the glass doors and ready to leave, bag over your shoulder. You held your book in one arm before fisting the sleeves of your sweater. The one time I forget my umbrella, you thought.
There was something soothing about watching the busy streets of Tokyo while rain hit the window screen. You felt yourself unwinding, relaxing in place. Sometimes your school and work life felt so hectic. It was nice to slow down  from time to time and breathe. 
“Man, you don’t have an umbrella? That sucks.” An incredibly tall, white haired male spoke beside you, snapping you out of your zen moment. 
You turned your head towards him, and he wasn’t even looking at you. He wore a thick black sweatshirt,  black jeans and dark boots. He had thick black shades on, and surely an umbrella in his hands. He had a gorgeous profile, and his jawline was extremely defined. Was he some sort of supermodel, you thought.
“Yeah, I know.” You say, sighing to yourself. You were partially offended, but mostly tired. He was handsome, but you didn’t have time for flirting. You just wanted to go home and run a hot bath. He looked like he was going to break your heart anyways.
“It says the rain is going to stop within the hour on the weather app.” He said, scrolling and tapping away at his phone. “You goin’ to the train station?”
“Oh, yeah.” You say shyly. You nervously tucked some hair behind your ears before looking straight ahead. Why the fuck was this supermodel speaking to you?
Granted, it was hard for you to stop looking at him every so often.
“Like what you see?”
You blinked at him repeatedly, earning a cocky chuckle from him.
“Wanna walk with me?” He asked, peering down at you. You looked at him, pondering if he was seriously trying to hit on you right now. Surely if you had known him, maybe walking to the station with him solely for the use of his umbrella would’ve been fine. You don’t know if it was the sleep deprivation or the fact that he truly did seem a little arrogant that stemmed your next response as you spoke.
“I don’t even know you.” You said bluntly, and you meant it disrespectfully.
“Not yet.” He said slyly. “But I’ve seen you around campus a lot.”
You stood still, pondering again if you had actually seen him before. Wait- wasn’t he in your political science class? You put a finger to your chin before finally igniting the imaginary, anxious little light bulb above your head.
“Professor Edamura’s class right?” You were such a lecture worm in that class, and the professor had yet to start group assignments. You had absolutely no need to befriend anyone  in that class yet. Nonetheless, it was your largest lecture class this semester, and you only met once a week. 
“Bingo.” He grinned.
“There’s like 120 people in that lecture.”
“Yeah. But I think you’re the cutest.” You stared at him, dumbfounded and blush stuck on your cheeks.
“Thank you,” you say, squeezing your arms around your book and pressing it towards your chest. 
“Oh look, the rain is stopping.” He says, leaning forward and intently staring out the window.
“Well, see you Wednesday.” He smiled a cheeky smile.
You felt like a child, blushing foolishly whilst you watched him walk out and down the street. 
You almost wish you hadn’t met him.
Days would go by until you saw him again. He made his appearance on Wednesday, at 2pm in Professor Edamura’s class. He sat beside you, offering you a wink before taking out his own computer beside you and your own. Aside from a greeting, he didn’t say a word until the lecture ended. You really had spoken too soon about not befriending anyone, because you had gotten slurped up into a group project with  4 other people.
“So, Friday night, we could all go to my place.  I don’t live too far from here.” You wanted to meet at the library instead. Why did he want to go to his house? However, it seemed he was a rather popular guy and everyone loved him. You learned his name was Gojo Satoru. And then you lost the vote 4 to 1. 
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as the women in your group swooned at him as he talked. This sucks.
All of you created a group chat in which you sparked ideas for the project’s format. You honestly think the other girls in your group were just more excited they had his number. 
Thursday night came, and you were in your robe and face mask when your phone went off. You blinked repeatedly, realizing Satoru had texted you directly and not the group chat.
Heyy
Hey, Is everything okay?
Yeah, I honestly just can’t wait to see you tomorrow.
You stared at the message, absolutely not having time for his shit. You didn’t respond. Rather, you went in your settings and purposely turned on read receipts and went to bed. 
You wished you could’ve left him on read in real life too as you sat on the floor pillow in his living room the next evening. The other three group mates bailed, texting the chat just 20 minutes after you got there.
“Guess it’s just the two of us,” he chuckled. 
“Don’t look so happy about it.” You rolled your eyes. This project was 30 percent of your grade, you wanted to punch someone.
“I can’t help it,” he says, sitting across from you on a different floor pillow. “I won’t lie. I had been thinking of asking you on a date. I didn’t think I’d get so lucky.”
“And did you text the other girls in our group the same thing the night before?” You say, nonchalantly opening your book. You didn’t even look his way.
“No, they’re incredibly annoying.” He sighed genuinely. You finally looked at him. They were pretty annoying. Because of them, you were sitting across from him with nothing separating you but an extremely expensive coffee table. The library would’ve been better.
“You’re pretty cool though. Kind of bummed you didn’t text me back.” 
“Because I know what you’re up to.” You say, scribbling away in your notes.
“And what might that be?” He takes off his shades, putting them on the glass coffee table. You’d never forget the way he stared at you with his mesmerizing blue shells.
“I’m not going to fall in love with you. I don’t have time for that.” You firmly set your pencil down, looking at him. 
“I don’t exactly want you to.” He chuckled. You looked at him before speaking again.
“So what do you want from me?” You say, placing your face in your palm and leaning forward a bit to look at him directly. The intense stare you had was sure to ring out the truth from his lips.
“I said I wanted to take you on a date.” He laughs. “Get to know you a bit, but ultimately take you to bed at the end of the night, if you don’t mind. You can decline, I just wanted to show you a good time.”
He just blatantly asked you to sleep with him. Somehow, you admired that. You hated people that wasted your time. At least this way, you felt like you had some power in the situation. You could decline him or not, and you knew exactly what would become of your situation-ship if you started something.
“Sure,” you say calmly, to his surprise. You shift yourself around the table, right beside his body.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously,” you took hold of his jaw, delicately planting a kiss. He had no idea you were so confident. He only had a girl initiate the kiss once before. Your lips were incredibly soft and pillowy. He was already hard, wondering just what your sex was like if you kissed him like this. The semester’s stress had gotten to you. You were only hoping he could help you unwind.
You shifted over his body, straddling him against the bottom of the sofa. You’d give him exactly what he wanted.
“You better be good at this, or don’t even bother looking at me after we finish this project.” You break from his lips. 
“Oh princess, I don’t ever disappoint.” He smirked. You were alarmed at his strength when he lifted both your bodies off the ground. He sucked in your lips, kissing you firmly as he brought you to his bedroom. 
That night, he gave you the best sex of your entire life. He wasn’t lying about not disappointing you.
You remember the day you guys finally had to present your project, which didn’t come out too bad. Satoru had seduced the girls who didn’t show up on Friday into doing majority of the work. You remember him telling you that they deserved it after you attempted to nag him for messing with them like that.
“You and me worked hard last Friday night, right princess? So what’s the big deal?” He whispered into your ear while you all gathered in front of the lecture. You presented your part that you did on your own with constant red hues plaguing your face. You wish he waited to say that after the presentation. Now, you were worked up again. The events of skin touching skin had been stuck in your mind. 
You couldn’t get his extremely large hands and hot body out of your head. For something that was supposed to be a stress reliever, the thought of his sex lived on within you and it was getting annoying. He caught up with you after you rushed out the room as soon as class ended.
“You have time before your next class?” He peered down at you, grinning a sexy and devilish smile.
“Why?” You ask. 
“Let’s go grab a bite to eat, on me. I promise really do work harder than I like to show off. The thing I did for the project isn’t really my character. I just didn’t like how the other girls were going to push all the work on you.” 
He sounded genuinely sorry for the situation.
“It’s fine. They deserved it anyway. They never replied to me when I texted them. If it wasn’t for you using your ‘sexiness’ to make them get busy, we would’ve gotten a shitty grade for sure.” You used air quotes around the word ‘sexiness’.
“You think I’m sexy?” He said smugly.
“Of course that’s all you picked up from the entirety of what I said.” You rolled your eyes, and he laughed a hearty laugh.
“Obviously,” you say quietly, he almost didn’t hear you. 
“You’re so fucking cute,” he said, laughter dying down. You had this annoyed blush on your face as the both of you walked. You did end up going out to eat with him. But somehow, you also ended up fucking him in the restaurant bathroom right after.
His hands squeezed your hips as you pressed you ass closer against him. You never realized you could feel so full. He slammed his length into you, while you shamelessly watched yourself pant beneath him in front of the mirror.
“You’re such a pretty girl, look how pretty you are. I wanna see your face again when you cum.” He coaxed you whilst gripping your neck. 
“Don’t be so loud though, then we’ll get caught. You don’t want this to end do you?”
Your juices were running down your weak legs, and you were holding back pleasure filled squeals while he rammed himself into you. It had been a while since you had been fucked so well aside from last Friday. And something about the thrill of someone knocking on the door, which wasn’t even locked, helped you find your climax during that 10 minute session.
You called out his name as you clenched around his length, causing him to throw his hand over your hot mouth.
“Shhh,” he shushed you as he lifted your body towards his own. 
“We won’t be able to do stuff like this in the future if you’re so loud.” His hot breath poured into your ear. Your knees were burning, but the pleasure in your core was enough to over shadow it. You were ashamed to admit it, but you were cumming again onto his dick.
“Satoru, my legs...” you muffled against his hand.
“I’ve got you sweetheart, don’t worry.” His thrusts were quickening and you felt him twitch inside you. He released himself into the rubber he wore before removing his member from you. You collapsed your upper body onto the sink for support.
He was incredibly sweet somehow, sliding your jeans and panties up for you. 
“Can you walk?” He asked.
“I can manage.” You say, stumbling back against his chest. He caught you whilst you buttoned your jeans. 
“The look on your face is priceless.” He said, looking at you in the mirror. You were a disheveled blushing mess, but somehow you were scowling at him for making you cum in such a short time.
“You can hold my arm for support,” he watched as you fixed what you could of your top and hair. 
“Shut up.” You said, wrapping yourself onto his arm and exiting the bathroom.
Sex with him was filled with plentiful moments like this. He would spontaneously show up around you, asking to hang out. It helped out a lot, considering you were less stressed and chirpier, your friends noticed. A little bit of dick does everyone good sometimes. 
You did your best to keep it strictly sex related, and you felt like he was casually following whatever you wanted to do. He was a decent friend, listening to your qualms about school and your other friendships. He took in a lot of stories and life situations from you, but he rarely ever talked about himself. You had slept with him countless times by then, but you really knew nothing about him. The thing that made it worse is that he started to sex you more passionately, stirring your feelings in a bunch.
He towered above your body in the dark moonlit room. It was another Friday, and you were lost in his sex yet again. He was so close, kissing and sucking your lips til they were sore and bruised. He dragged his mouth against your neck and down to your chest. You didn’t know what had gotten into him, but he was keen to keep the space between you as close as possible. You hadn’t see him all week, and you both didn’t have any classes together this season. The spontaneous adventures became more planned due to your busy schedules.
He inserted himself into your warmth, making you arch your back and press your breasts to his chest. 
“Fuck, I missed you.”
Your entire head was hot from the whisper he made into your ear. You wished he wouldn’t say things like that. It was starting to fuck with you. You let out a moan as he filled you up completely, grinding your sex towards him from underneath.
“It looks like you missed me too,” he chuckled. Your sex was loud and wet. You couldn’t lie to him even if you tried— your body wouldn’t let you.
You found yourself moaning how much you missed him as he rolled into you endlessly throughout the evening. 
“I know baby,” he placed sweet kisses against your face and neck, “I know.”
You chose to block this specific memory out whenever you told your friends this story. He had sexed you like he loved you that night and you had too many orgasms to count.
You awoke in the morning with him clinging to your naked body. It really wasn’t the first time something romantic like this had happened but it was the first time you felt provoked to say something.
“Satoru...” You said against his hair. He grumbled a groggy hum into your neck. You didn’t know if this was the right time to say it, but you were tired of the subtle hints of affection he had been mixing in with all the lust. 
“It’s getting hard for me to keep this relationship strictly sex based,” you begin.
“I really do want to get to know you more. But sometimes you throw me these mixed signals and I get confused.” 
He sat up, bringing his blue gaze towards yours.
“Then we should stop.” He said bluntly. He wasn’t asking you either. 
“We should,” you sort of agree, confusedly.
“I had a feeling this was going to happen.” He said, tearing himself from you. 
“But it’s cool. I’ve got somewhere to be. You need a ride home?” He asked. You nodded. That morning for the first time in a long time, you both got dressed together in solitude. There was no banter, no joking around and none of the occasional compliment or kiss.
He drove you home, in comfortable silence on his part. When you both of reached in front of your house he finally spoke.
“Don’t look so down, honey. At the end of the day, you were just a warm body to me. Cheer up though, you served your purpose.”
You could’ve cried but you knew exactly what this was from the beginning. Was it possible he was starting to feel something? And this was his way of running from it? You stared at your lap. There was no point of trying to read too hard into it now.
“Thanks for the ride.” You say, shutting the door. He watched you walk into your house. He hadn’t known you were so sensitive considering the persona you’d been giving him since the very beginning. He would never be able to apologize to you for it either— he had too much pride.
He never texted or called you after that. Not that you were surprised, you knew he wasn’t the one for you. He was too secretive despite his outgoing nature. An experience it was, you thought it was fun. You did your best to look at the situation as optimistically as possible.
Whenever you saw him on campus, you didn’t even bother looking at him. You walked right by him. He knew better than to speak to you. One day you were sitting in the cafe you first met him in. It was raining just like it was last year. You knew he saw you scribbling away through the glass window. He entered anyway, with a brunette attached to his arm. She laughed loudly as she pressed her breasts to his bicep. You casually sipped your iced coffee, eying him briefly before returning to your work.
He was pretty ballsy.
“You okay babe?” Suguru slid his large hand over yours, breaking you out of your thoughts. 
You hummed in delight, watching him take hold of your hand and press your knuckles to his lips. 
“When you’re done, how about we go to that Hibachi place you like?”
You held back an excited squeal at the dark haired male in front of you.
“I’d like that a lot.”
part 2
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juniorgman187 · 4 years ago
Text
Be Forever Young (Reid Fluff Fic)
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Summary: After Penelope’s resignation from the BAU, she attempts to set up her tech protégé, Reader, with Reader’s intellectual match yet much older counterpart - Dr. Spencer Reid. 
A/N: The POV switches between Reader and Spencer, just use context clues to detect who the narrator is.  Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: 21 year age gap, headcannon proposal Playlist: Cloud 9 by Beach Bunny Word Count: 6.1k
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* 
Prologue
Events like these weren’t exceedingly rare. They weren’t anything like Halley’s Comet, by any means, where it only happens once in your lifetime - if you’re lucky. But they weren’t exactly sunrises - something that you can count on occurring every day without fail. 
The best celestial phenomenon I could compare it to are blue moons. Rare enough to still have an element of surprise when they came, but not so rare that I should never expect them. 
These ‘blue moons’ are actually the events in which I meet an intellectual match. 
It’s not too often that I find a mind quite like mine, so you’ll forgive me for the reaction it elicits to watch them transcend the physical level and connect with me on the psychological one. There’s only been a handful of people who’ve ever had the exact standard of aptitude to be permissible into this metaphysical world with me, but now - there’s a handful and one. 
The newest addition to the list is her. 
_ _ _
Getting a word in edgewise when it comes to a conversation with Penelope Garcia is nearly impossible. Getting a word in edgewise when it comes to a conversation with Penelope Garcia about Dr. Spencer Reid is impossible. 
I couldn’t tell you when the first time she brought him up was, but I could probably tell you just how many times since then she’s mentioned him. 
A trillion. At least. 
For months on end, he was the only thing she would talk to me about. Morning, noon, and night. Every single day she’d gush about him with the same unrelenting zeal as she had the day before and the day before that. It was both scary and impressive how she never seemed to run out of good things to say about him. 
“You would just die for his apartment. It’s got this super chic dark academia thingy going on. You’d be really into that,” she would say. Or something to that effect. I was never really listening. 
Not that I wasn’t interested in learning about Dr. Reid - I was very interested in him.
As a superior. 
I first learned of him when he taught my Psych 101 class. Freshman year me was simply enthralled with him as a speaker, probably due to the charm of his awkward humor. I found it eerily relatable and touching, in a way. That was probably my favorite class, minus the assholes who made it less than enjoyable at times. (That’s a story for later).
The next interaction I had with him happened not even a year later when he came back after temporarily teaching to sit in on a philosophy class. Even though he was only auditing the lecture, whereas I was enrolled in the course, he ended up sitting in the seat right beside me. Had he not been gifted with an eidetic memory - a fact I found out during one of my obsessive research sessions - I doubt he would’ve even remembered sitting next to me.
Our shared field of work helped to bring us back together repeatedly throughout college. I would run into him at seminars, workshops, once even at a library where we were both looking for the same book. 
But for the most part, our relationship was parasocial. It largely consisted of me learning from him at a distance. I would use his brilliant research to support my own assignments, read the books he recommended, audit the classes he would teach. 
Rather than accurately interpreting my very limited, very professional connection to Dr. Reid, Penelope was deliberately using it as ammunition for her arsenal of reasons why I should consider dating him. 
“You guys are basically already friends, and nothing is cuter than the friends-to-lovers trope!” Now that she actually did say, and the only reason I remember it verbatim was it was so outrageous I couldn’t not remember it. 
And probably because she just said it to me right now. 
“We’re not friends! We’re ... acquaintances. Colleagues, if you will.” My attempts to gain distance from Penelope and this topic of conversation were crashing and burning. The more I tried to walk away from her, the faster she would chase me. It was inconceivable how she managed to do that and continue to pelt me with her perky persistence. 
“Even better! You know I’m no stranger to workplace romances.”
That I did. One Derek Morgan or one Luke Alvez ring a bell?
“Dr. Reid and I don’t work together,” I reminded her, if only to burst her bubble of insanity. 
“Exactly my point! If you two don’t work together, then there’s nothing keeping you apart.” 
I was stopped dead in my tracks, almost causing Penelope to trip since she was right on my heels. 
“Nothing? Really? Try 21 years.” 
That surely kept us apart. 
Our age gap was one of those glaring disparities Penelope couldn’t wave away with her magic wand. Frankly, it wasn’t an age gap so much as it was an age Grand Canyon. He was a whole person of legal drinking age older than me!
Hell - our age gap itself was older than me!
Maybe there weren’t any contracts or agreements or supervisors to keep us apart, but there was still one significant thing doing that. 
Time. Arguably the most important thing you needed to get right for a relationship to work. 
If there were any chance that he and I were good together, that was squandered by our divergence in age. 
Right person, wrong time ... but wrong time by more than two decades.
I could see the smallest fragment of hope wither away in Garcia’s eyes, and it actually hurt to have known that I caused that. Her voice was more solemn when she said, “You don’t have to date him, I just want you to go on a date. Get to know each other better. Who knows? You might finally graduate from colleagues to BFF’s.” 
Not that I was seriously considering the possibility of growing closer to Dr. Reid, but there was one question lingering in my mind.
“Does he even want to go on this date? Have you asked him how he feels about it?” 
Part of why I was wondering was on the off chance that she’d tell me he had the same objections towards this that I did, which would be good news for me since it would mark my reluctance as a sound judgment. If there was anyone whose opinion was worth something, it was his, right? After all, he was the provable genius in the same compromising position as me. 
“Trust me, he’s been dying to do this.” In spite of her preface to trust her, I didn’t. I couldn’t be sure if she was suggesting that he’d been dying to go on a date with me or if he’d been dying to go on a date in general.
No offense to him, but I guessed it was the latter, and if that was the case, he was only being a team player because she hadn’t told him it was me she was setting him up with. Already suspecting that I’d probe further to navigate through her vagueness, she cut in with one last Hail Mary. “One date! That’s all!”
Whether you believe me or not, 100% the only reason why I said what I said next was to put an end to this madness. “Fine. I’ll go.”
Maybe 99.99%.
_ _ _
I never knew how I could lose so much time. Sure, if anyone asked, I could probably account for everything I’d done in my day, second by second. But still, there was this cloudiness, a fog, inhabiting my brain, casting this haze on whatever else dwelled in my mind, too. 
I couldn’t focus on anything for more than 4 seconds at a time, and while that wasn’t incredibly concerning for the average human, it was disconcerting for me. 
What was going on? 
What is going on?
“What’s going on?” 
Suddenly, a hand began to wave in front of my face. “Yoo-hoo? Anybody in there?” JJ wondered aloud, causing me to realize it was her voice that asked the question from before. 
“Yeah, sorry,” I shook my head to regain some clarity, but that did me no good. My foggy brain still remained. It goes without saying my words were worth nothing as well. JJ saw right through me in a way that never failed to scare me shitless. I could never conjure up a lie good enough to follow that look she’d give me. So I settled for the truth. The question that cast the haziness in my brain to begin with. 
“What do you think about me dating again?” 
If I thought that first look was bad, then the one she was giving me now was something of a nightmare. At least with the first, I knew what she was thinking. With this one, I hadn’t a clue. 
To relieve us from some of the insufferable silence, I found myself speaking again in my defense. “Garcia mentioned something earlier about setting me up with someone and it got me thinking.”
Thinking about Max that is. 
Being my most recent girlfriend, it made sense why she was freshest in my mind. That being said, we’ve been broken up for 14 months, which in any other context would seem like more than enough time to start dating again, but therein lies the catch. 
We didn’t just break up. She said “no” when I asked her to marry me, which, if you ask me, is one hell of a way to break up.
So from that perspective, it obviously begs the question: is 14 months too fast to move on from something like that? 
JJ sharply inhaled. “Well, are you ready to start dating again?”
I still didn’t have an answer for that myself. “I don’t know. There isn’t exactly a rulebook on how long you have to wait until it’s socially acceptable-”
“Lemme stop you right there, Spence,” She placed her hand on top of mine. “You can’t just do whatever statistics or studies or science say is right all the time. You not only need to be more in tune with your own needs but accepting of them, too. Screw what anyone else has to say about you dating again - including Socrates, including Einstein, including Aristotle ... including me. Do whatever you think is acceptable by your standards - not society’s. Do what you wanna do and I’ll support that.”
There was something special about having JJ’s approval. It was like getting permission to be excited, something I didn’t know I needed or wanted. 
“I’m ready.”
Born ready, as Penelope herself would say.
_ _ _
I was starting to get suspicious that maybe I had an invisible string attached to me and on the other end of that string was Penelope. It was the only explanation as to how she managed to trail behind me at an isochronal pace. Perfectly equidistant, perfectly equal intervals of time. Must’ve been some form of magic that she was able to synchronize that connection for as long as she did as we pranced around the office, basically chasing me.
“Okay, I know the date isn’t until Saturday, but I really think we need to amp up your wardrobe choices ... like stat.”
Hearing that I was seeing my superior still didn’t settle well with me. I don’t think I could ever get used to the thought. 
I should’ve been offended at her suggestion to change my clothing taste as it implied my stylistic choices weren’t up to par, but a part of me, a very small part of me, knew she was right. And just because I wasn’t keen on the idea of going on a date with Spencer didn’t mean I didn’t want to look nice for him for it.
“I’m assuming you’ve got some ideas in mind,” I said in a teasing voice, knowing that’s precisely why she brought it up.
“See! You are a genius! Exactly why you and Spencer are meant to be together!” Her exclamation was just as loud as it was outlandish. 
“Alright, calm down sparky,” I shot a warning look. “It’s just one date - we’re not soulmates.” 
Then, talking in the quietest voice I didn’t think Penelope was capable of speaking with, she said, “Not yet.” 
I knew the minute I showed even the littlest bit of interest in Penelope’s fashion guidance, I’d end up draped in ruffles, sequins, glitter, tulle, rhinestones, or all of the above. Nothing again Penelope’s personal style - it’s just not mine. 
I was scared to ask, but I had to know. “So what were you thinking?” 
Before my very eyes, Penelope’s constantly-there smile transformed, something akin to the mischievous grin of the Cheshire Cat. “I was thinking …” 
In a Mary Poppins-esque fashion, Penelope produced a dress that in no feasible reality should have been able to fit within that little Hello Kitty side bag. 
I suppose it must’ve been absolutely backbreaking for Penelope to refrain from choosing a multicolor or at least pattern-riddled dress, so as compensation for the fact that it was only one singular color throughout, it had to be a bold one. 
Red. 
“Not too shabby, right?” Her eyebrows jumped on her forehead, knowing she’d made a good choice. 
And a part of me actually died saying this, but it was pretty perfect. 
_ _ _ 
My life didn’t flash before my eyes, per se, the moment I finally arrived at the delicatessen. It was more like a very specific, singular memory had flashed before my eyes. 
That story for later? This is the one. 
Psych 101 was my best class in Freshman year ... by a long shot. Come rain, wind, or snow, I was always excited to go. It was a standout course on its own, but not because it was terribly spectacular or the most fascinating subject in the world, but more so because of how it changed my own person. It challenged me, like all worthwhile things do. 
There were more judgmental meatheads - boys, if you will - than not, who would jump down my throat for being a smart ass or a teacher’s pet if I so much as answered one of Dr. Reid’s questions. Par for the course, really. 
As a result, I had a proclivity to avoid raising my hand. It wasn’t that I was hyper-fixated on managing my reputation, just that participating wasn’t worth the eventual harassment from my dimwitted classmates. 
Nonetheless, one day, I felt compelled to answer Dr. Reid when he asked what our thoughts were about the sampled, pretense manifesto.
No one else was jumping at the chance to speak, perhaps they were just as cowardly as I was, and it was clear that he was going to stand there waiting until someone finally would. The silence was painfully awkward for everyone and so I felt obligated, as a student who was actually enrolled in the class for credit and not just to audit like 90% of the other girls here, to break it.
Slowly, ever so slowly, my hand hesitantly inched up into the air until it floated just high enough above the student in front of me’s head. As soon as I knew he saw it, I let it plunge straight back down. 
“Yes, Ms. (y/l/n)?”
I could already feel the dirty looks and snide comments coming before I even said a word. 
“I know we’re all collectively referring to this unsub as a man, and while that might just be a general assumption or Freudian slip perhaps ... I think the language is steeped in betrayal and contempt. And it would be ignorant not to notice how it reads more like the wrath of a woman scorned than your typical jilted male lover.” 
“Lover?” Someone two rows back snickered quietly, clearly to mock my choice of words. I didn’t even have to look to know it was Brad who had said that. Nevertheless, Dr. Reid was impressed with my answer. His lips curved into the faintest smile as he nodded his head. If he had heard the commentary of one Brad Sterling, he made no visceral reaction to it.
With an extended hand, palm facing up, he gestured for me to, “Please. Stand up.”
I fumbled my way up and out of my seat to possibly delay the shit I’d get for this mere action.
“That, ladies and gentleman, is what it looks like to have courage,” He underlined his words with a grand flourish of his hand in my direction. “Putting yourself on the line even in the event you’ll be mocked and ridiculed or deemed wrong. That’s something you’ll need if you are seriously considering being part of the BAU, or the FBI at any capacity.”
My face was flushed from the acclaim he was showering me with. Suddenly, I was glad I volunteered. 
Taking me completely by surprise, Dr. Reid wasn’t done yet.
“So, Mr. Sterling,” He began, directly calling out the boy in the back who without a doubt made the remark. I wouldn’t have had any reason to believe he heard it since his attention never diverted away from me long enough to catch the comment, much less the culprit. I wonder if he’d heard all the times Brad made jokes at my expense. Was he finally at his wits end with the sarcasm? “Make fun all you want, but might I suggest that if you like a girl, you do the opposite of that.” 
His sickly sweet drawl was followed by a short wink at me as if to say ‘I have your back’, and I was lucky to have already been in the process of sitting back down because my knees would’ve given out underneath me from the sheer exhilaration of his praise. 
The thought never once crossed my mind that Brad was so fixated on me because he had a crush, but it all made sense once it did. And if I didn’t know any better, Dr. Reid only humiliated him and brought it up because the realization dawned on him, too.
Was it possible that Dr. Reid was ... jealous?
In the spirit of complete transparency, that suspicion may have lit the tiniest wildfire imaginable in my chest. A wildfire that, even now, has yet to extinguish. Perhaps that little flame is the 0.01% of the reason I said yes. I could only imagine what kind of omnipotence it would soon gain if this date went well. 
If he could light such an enduring kindle with simple praise, think about what would happen if he smiled at me. If he laughed at my jokes. If he held my hand. 
If he kissed me.  
Dr. Reid’s validation would be something I actively sought from all walks of life, I knew that much. What I didn’t know was how far that desire would take me.
I would have never guessed it would lead me here. 
Standing in front of a fancy restaurant in a pretty red dress with the tenuous hope that the professor inside might just like it so much that he’ll end up liking the girl wearing it, too.
_ _ _ 
No matter how many times I adjusted the bouquet of poppies, they sat perpetually crooked on the table. Much like the dark gray tie around my neck that tightened around my throat with every passing second. I had to keep messing with it to loosen the noose-like grip it had on me. Who knew if it actually was becoming more restricting or it was the flourishing bundle of nerves in my stomach that made it harder to breathe. 
I was never very good at lying in wait patiently. Especially if I was expecting something. Now that I was expecting someone? I could say with perfect clarity - I was not good at waiting. 
I don’t wanna seem the way I do 
Every time the door opened, my eyes flashed to it instantaneously. And every time it wasn’t her, a little part of me was disappointed. It was still too early to say for certain that she was standing me up, but my mind was doing what it did best. It wandered. There was nothing else to do after all. 
Except maybe adjust those blood orange poppies one more time.
I’d picked them out specifically because Penelope slipped in a not-so-subtle comment about her dress being “a perfect match to the color of papaverales” - her words exactly. I thought if she went through that much trouble to find a color coordinated plant and say the scientific name for me to decode, it was worth picking up a bouquet of them on the way. 
It was only the most ironic occurrence in the world that when I went to rearrange them one last time, I devoted my full attention to the action, missing the very moment I was on the lookout for the past hour and a half. 
I didn’t even see her until the red poppies camouflaged into the identically colored setting of her dress. 
Then there she was.
All the disappointment in the world was worth that first time I saw her with fresh eyes. 
I was dumbstruck for a moment, long enough that it warranted an apology for not standing up sooner. 
“(Y/n)! Hi!” I accidentally squealed. I couldn’t control myself, let alone control the pitch of my voice apparently. 
I could see, in her, youthful naivete where, in others, I saw their age. She paradoxically had not aged a minute, and yet a new womanhood was piercing through her ultimately adolescent appearance. 
“Hi, Dr. Reid,” She said through a laugh and a smile, shaking my hand politely and professionally. She was greeting me like I was still her professor and she’d just happen to run into me on an errand. Next, she’d be attempting small-talk for as long as it took for me to let her go. 
Unfortunately for her, I had no plans for that. 
But I’m confident when I’m with you 
“Please, it’s just Spencer,” I reminded her, hoping to break down that governing image of me she surely maintained. 
“Spencer,” She tried again; doing it more to be obedient to my instruction than to satisfy her own desire. It sounded so unnatural to her, just as it did to me. I found it adorable, actually. It seemed like she was breaking this unspoken, and very much illusionary rule to say my first name. “It’s nice to see you again,” She added after I pulled out her chair for her.
“Is it?” I asked when I rounded the table to get to my seat. “I get the feeling you’re a little disappointed.” The only reason I pointed it out was that it was true, not just that I’d observed the notion grow more poignant in her face for the past minute.
“Not at all,” She shook her head, which luckily for me, drew a line of congruence between her body language and verbal language. At least, she was being truthful. “It’s just that I’m sort of embarrassed.”
“Embarrassed?” I repeated in astonishment, unable to cultivate a list of reasons that would justify her feeling that way. I couldn’t think of a single thing I’d done to provoke that emotion, and it nearly broke me to consider her internal being substantiating it. 
“Embarrassed isn’t the right word, but I can’t find a more accurate one for what I’m feeling,” She shied away from my eyes when she lowered her head as she spoke. 
“You could try to explain it to me?” I offered gently. It took an overwhelming amount of self-restraint to not offer my hand with it. It would’ve been so easy to slide my hand across the threshold to enter her territory of the table, but who knows if doing so would just make her that much more uncomfortable. 
“Well for one thing, I don't really go on dates,” From this alone, I could already relate to her enough to laugh at the fact. “Don’t laugh at me! You know how dangerous first dates can be,” She swatted her hand in my direction to chastise me. 
“I do! I do! I think it’s really good that you’re protecting yourself to the point of avoiding dates,” I was teasing the implication that she wasn’t asked to go on very many, which was thankfully delivered well enough to make her laugh again. 
“Hey! Many people have wanted to go on dates with me, thank you very much. You included.” 
“Me included.” I nodded in approval. We sat in a short period of silence while we exchanged one soulful glance, borne from the insinuation of what I just said. 
“And for another ... I respect you too much as a figure of authority to see you in that way.” 
_ _ _ 
“In what way?” 
Rather than tossing me a lifeline, he was feeding me to the sharks. Forcing me to dive into the deep end. He wanted to see me struggle to stay afloat in the sea of his sticky toffee eyes. He knew I'd get suspended in them when he gave me that look. How much I’d be willing to get lost in them just so I could wander in the depths of his honeyed orbs for a little bit longer. 
That look ...
“You don’t find it weird?” This was the most honesty I could’ve demonstrated. 
“Find what weird?” For someone with such a high IQ, you’d think he’d be quicker on his feet. 
“This! You - me. On a date!” I gestured to the space between us. “You’re ... well frankly, Spencer, you’re old enough to be my father.” 
“Does that make you uncomfortable?” He genuinely cared about the answer.
“Only in theory. Not in actual life,” was the most precise response I could give.
“So what is making you uncomfortable?” Again, I could tell my answer mattered to him. 
“You were my professor once, and now I’m just supposed to go on a date with you and see you as my equal when I’ve spent the entire time I’ve known you, putting you on a pedestal? Do you know how much pressure that puts on me? To be perfect?”
“Who says you have to be perfect? Who says you’re aren’t already?” 
That one caught me off guard. I had to gulp down the lump of shock. 
“You think I’m perfect?” 
“That, or you’re pretty close to it.” 
Lately all I feel is bad and bruised
I could’ve smiled, I could’ve thanked him, I could’ve fallen at his feet and thrown my dignity down there along with it, but I just laughed. I laughed. 
“That’s ridiculous! You barely know me.” 
“You’re wrong,” He simply replied with a firm shake of his head and a cavalier sip at his drink. It showed just how confident he was in his answer. How cocky he was. 
“How am I wrong?” 
He cleared his throat as though he were preparing to deliver the world’s greatest speech. Then, he leaned forward, motioning with his fingers for me to do the same. 
“If I’m remembering correctly, which you know I am, you were the student who had the gall to raise your hand and correct me on my gender identification of the unsub, right?” 
The second the sentimental thought, ‘aww he remembered’, came into my head, it was soon followed by, of course, he did, idiot. Eidetic memory, remember?
Tired of tripping on my shoes
“What does that have to do with me being perfect? Or so you claim?”
He was piercing deep into my eyes now, his gaze overwhelming my senses and sending shockwaves akin to the feeling of butterflies everywhere … and I mean everywhere.
“Bravery is the audacity to be unhindered by failures, and to walk with freedom, strength, and hope, in the face of things unknown.” 
I recognized the quote as one of Morgan Harper Nichols, but the words went right to my chest like they were his own. 
That damn wildfire just got a whole lot bigger. 
“I’ve always thought about how if I could be unfazed by failure or even just the prospect of it, if I could just be strong enough or have enough hope to face what I couldn’t predict, I’d be set. I’d be golden,” He paused. “I’d be perfect ... but you? You, little one, have already got that figured out. So whether that means you’re perfect on your own because of your bravery or you're a perfect match for someone fainthearted like me, is up for you to decide. Whichever interpretation of being perfect you choose would be correct, but you should know - I meant both either way.”
But when he loves me I feel like I’m floating
When he calls me pretty, I feel like somebody
Even when we fade eventually to nothing
You will always be my favorite form of loving
“Do you want to get out of here?” He asked when he finally refound his voice. 
“Since the minute I walked in.” I replied after refinding mine. 
_ _ _ 
“You always take girls to your apartment on the first date, Doctor?” Asking this in the name of taking a jab at him was the most clever way I could think to conceal my underlying motive of trying to gauge how giddy I could let myself feel about the fact that he’d taken me to his ‘super chic dark academia’ themed residence - Penelope’s words, remember?
“Well, in my abundant dating history,” He sarcastically began, “I can’t say I ever have, no. You’d be the first.”
That shot another quick bolt of lightning to the wildfire in my heart that I’m ashamed to admit made the heat reinvigorate. The flame must’ve been too much for my chest to contain so it had to relocate to my face, where my cheeks were left to burn under his gaze and thanks to his admission. 
I was the first. 
He must’ve seen the glint localizing on my countenance and decided to speak on it. “Why does that amuse you?”
“I don’t know,” I dumbly but truthfully replied. He didn’t need any more information to get his answer, though. Because even if I didn’t know what amused me about being his first, I never denied that it did, and that was more than enough confirmation for him. 
“You promise to be here when I come back?” He wagged a cautionary finger at me like it might persuade me to stay and hold me accountable if I didn’t. 
Spencer needed to go into his room to collect an item that ‘shall not be named’ but was apparently essential for our super secret plans tonight (secret to even me) and he was leaving me in the living room while he did so. I guess being the initial girl he took home on a first date was okay, but being the initial girl he took into his bedroom on a first date was crossing a line. 
That was alright with me, though. I was in this for the long haul.
“I promise I pose no flight risk, Your Honor,” I taunted with a coy tone. “But I can’t promise I won’t snoop around some.” Hey, at least I was telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. 
“Snoop around all you want,” He laughed ruefully, demonstrating an openness I quite envied and admired. “You’ll probably learn a lot about me that way. And you won’t even have to talk to me to do that!” I knew he was only saying that out of self-deprecating tendencies he harbored, but I couldn’t help feeling that a small part of him actually believed that I wasn’t interested in talking to him.
“Spencer, you know I do like talking to you right?” I caught him just before he ran into his room. Already halfway in the door, I could still catch the megawatt smile on his face. 
“So stay then,” His smile grew impossibly bigger. “We can talk all you want when I get back.” 
The door closed, and then suddenly reopened to let just his face through, a face that said, ‘Don’t go anywhere.’
After a few minutes of loudly sorting through his room, I heard the sanctimonious cry of victory. “Found it!” 
I could hear the little pad of his feet and he happily trotted out of the room. “Ta-da! My stargazing kit.” He said it as though he were introducing the basket he was holding to me, and me to it. Like it was a real person he wanted me to know. I almost felt obliged to say, ‘Hi stargazing kit! It’s so nice to meet you. I’m (y/n)!’
“Let’s go,” He smiled, reaching for my hand. 
I unabashedly took it, because although it meant that I was truly leaving his apartment, I had a very strong feeling that I would be back here again one day. 
_ _ _ 
We were lying there on this big quilted comforter that was stashed away in that stargazing kit of his, staring up at the sky, drunk on the sound of our occasional fits of laughter. 
“It’s Earth Day, you know that?” I wondered aloud in a state of complete euphoria.
“I actually did,” He said through a sheepish laugh, almost as if he was admitting the knowledge of it against his own will to protect my fragility. 
From out of nowhere, there was a small tug on the skirt of my dress. I looked down to find Spencer’s hand there, playing with the fabric until it lay perfectly on my leg. 
I coughed to possibly relieve the tension brewing in my loins. “So then you know the Lyrid meteor shower is tonight,” I moved the tiniest bit closer to lean into his touch.
“At exactly 4:33 a.m,” He moved too.
“Is that why you brought me here? To watch the shooting stars? To make a wish?” I thought for a second that I would appear exceedingly childish - more so than I already did being 21 years his junior. But he didn’t judge me at all for the kid-like notion of making a wish on a shooting star or the implication that I still believed in those things. 
In fact, I piqued his curiosity, telling by the way he moved only his head to the side to watch my reaction. “Say I did. What would you wish for?” 
In the throws of dreamy elation, I softly murmured the only honest answer. “To be older. But not the unfulfilling 9 to 5, loveless marriage, ‘I do my taxes for fun’ older. I want to be old in the ways that the stars and the sky are old. I want to be infinite.” 
“...To be infinite.” He whispered my wish back, sounding sort of in awe of me. 
Just then, the overhead horizon grew larger. With no buildings or people to block the view, it was just us, the stars, and the sky. I could actually feel that I was lying on a planet. It was so wide. So infinite. 
“Can I hold your hand?” I asked softly, in a manner so vulnerable it scared me.
Without any words or hesitation, he put my hand in his.
“The universe seems so big right now. I just needed something to hold onto.” I explained quietly, practically with the hopes that he wouldn’t hear me. But he heard.
“I’m here.”
We didn’t know what was ahead of us then. We were just two people, looking up at the sky on a cold February night. We weren’t divided by power, or age, or space. We were ourselves and no one else. 
My eyes fluttered shut again and a smile stretched across my face. “Stargazing was a good idea.”
The world and the sky and the stars and I - we were all infinite. I couldn’t have felt bigger in my own body. In the best way possible, I was taking up so much space. I was occupying the earth. I was made up of matter. I mattered. 
Just as I began to open my eyes, I caught a glimpse of a fading shooting star. Though I had wished to be older, I still felt like a child. Then it hit me. I didn’t feel older because I wasn’t older.
I was infinite. 
Yes, I was a child, but not in the pinch your cheeks, bottles and pacifiers, babyish way. I was a child in the ‘you have a life full of possibilities ahead of you’ way.
You are young. He tells me with his eyes. And that is a good thing. Be forever young. 
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* 
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fitheghosty · 3 years ago
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so... uh.. yeah remember awhile back when I said I wanted to talk about my ride the cyclone oc? you don't? well..here it comes anyway
^^ up there is a picrew of her cause I can't draw for shit lol. obviously she'd have a choir outfit but I like to think this is what she wears out of school
anywho-
special thanks to @lov3rs-go who listened to me info-dump about this stupid little gremlin of mine for so many days☠️
let's get started!!!
basics: alexandria seymour, 17, she/her, female
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so- if you haven’t guessed by now, alex was in the choir, she went to the fairground, and died in the cyclone accident. yayyyyy—
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alex’s title is “funniest girl in town.” she’s not like constance funny, more like the class clown that gets sent to the office all the time for being disruptive sdskdj. many times during the events of rtc she starts making jokes about their deaths to cope. It’s really not with any ill intention, it just is how she deals with stuff.
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but boy does it fucking shock the choir when she does lmao— at first she doesn’t even realize what she is doing until someone in the choir calls her out because everyone is just like dead silent at all of these quick little jokes at their tragic deaths. and she does it MULTIPLE times, ocean literally wants to strangle her by the second one
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she grew up as a middle child in a house with seven siblings (she included) her parents were the classic perfect family-trope, the whole town of uranium adored her family like they were celebrities of some sort.
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all her siblings had talents that made them shine in the rundown town that uranium was. It was sort of a staple for her parents to brag about how great all of their children were, but not alex. she tried so hard to find the one spark, the one thing she was good at. she can’t even remember the moment when she finally gave up trying
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eventually she started cracking jokes at people, whether they were mean, or just plain stupid. this striked attention towards her. her parents were finally looking at her like she wasn’t something that was meant to be hidden away, she started using it as a way to make friends- to get attention. oh god how she loved attention, she was so deprived from it at a young age that she started craving it when she realized how rewarding it was to make people laugh
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she then starts to become semi-popular during highschool, but she's treated like shit— everybody just sees her as a jester that can be entertainment, but alex didn't care..at least she was noticable
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in sophomore year, she goes into her science class and says, "hey, why's it so sad in here— who died?" her teacher starts sobbing..turns out her husband had just passed. cue a meeting in the office
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"how was I supposed to know that someone had actually died??"
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and that's how she gets into the choir— like no joke she has to stay in the choir for the rest of highschool cause of that lol. and she hates it. absolutely despises it
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her story arc during the events of rtc is realizing she's more than a joke, that it's not good to hide feeling's under humor, and to let your heart open up. she also faces the crushing weight of not feeling good enough for anyone. overall self discovery is very important to her development
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that's the basis of her— if you are still here congrats lmao
lines that she would say in the show :)
".. would you believe me if I said I wasn't eating some of the old candy from the old concessions box?"
*after SABM* "... y'know you really should of made a fanfiction of that, teens would've ate that up."
"I'm not scared of a robot- OH SHIT HE'S RIGHT THERE-" (oh I forgot to mention she's absolutely terrified of karnak djshs)
*after a sad fucking ballad about self-worth* "woo that was fun.." *literally sobbing as she says that lol*
"it was either the choir or the band, and I was not about to walk around with a tuba so-"
*says an insensitive joke, choir stares at her* "...what?..ohh I did it again, that's my bad.."
"is ocean being a bitch? yes. oh wait no I forgot I'm scared of her- um,you'rereallylovely ocean-"
there's so much more that I can say about her but I kinda just want to lay the basics of her and then see how it goes, I wanted to do asks with her but I can't get ahead of myself yet djdhsh
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erwinsvow · 4 years ago
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𝐚𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨
note: part two to the college headcanons! part one can be found here! i had a lot of fun writing these and i hope everyone enjoys them :) teacher/student dynamic warning for zeke and hange's, and i guess bullying for annie's :/
𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐨 𝐠𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐝
the very definition of kind-hearted frat boy who doesn’t fit the stereotype he’s been assigned at all
starts off with accounting before realizing he hates math, moves into business management and marketing
the linkedin profile is absolutely popping, 500+ connections and details about every club and organization he’s ever been a part of
the friend that helps everyone find internships and fixes their resumes while offering helpful advice and not being condescending… anyways so that’s how you meet porco
he works at the career center 100% and does various coaching/prep help, and you, pieck’s friend, are in desperate need of an internship
so you’re complaining to your friend as usual, when she tells you to stop by the building and ask for a “pock”
so you do just that, walking in and asking for “pock” and porco is a little stunned by this pretty stranger calling him by a nickname reserved for his close friends, and even then he just barely tolerates it
but he doesn’t want to correct you, especially since you’re being so sweet and he can tell you need some help
so a meeting at the career center slowly turns into facetime calls to review applications and last-minute edits, stopping by your dorm to help you fill out paperwork and walking together to mail it out
i have a feeling porco doesn’t wanna be too forward, and he thinks he’s being very aloof and casual, when he really just seems oblivious
and you cannot tell for the life of you if he likes you or he’s just being friendly since you’re close with pieck
finally after you land the internship and won't have your normal excuse to spend time with him, you get the guts you've been searching for
you tell him about the position later in the day, stopping by the center for hopefully the last time
"by the way, my number's on my resume if you're ever gonna ask me out."
leaves pocky-boy flustered and red and scrambling to ask you out, and you have been happily dating since
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫
oh boy
conny is a very typical college kid in the sense that he will sleep through every 8 am class he has, blow off class to go wait in line for the nacho bar, and has adopted the mantra ‘c’s get degrees’
but he is an extremely lovable education major with a focus in history
rarely seen without his shadow sasha, but now that she started dating niccolo, she thinks that conny could use a relationship too, and that it might do him some good to be with a funny, down-to-earth person
thus begins the most grueling two weeks for every girl on campus, as sasha hunts down girls that she thinks would be a good match for her best friend
this includes airdropping a photo of conny to the lecture hall with the caption “would you date this man? serious inquiries only”
creates a fake tinder complete with a google form to narrow down the options
however, none of this is necessary because sasha bumps into you in the smoothie line and causes your triple berry blend to go flying
she helps you clean up and idle conversation leads to you talking about dates and so forth
“well, i’d love to set you up with my best friend? how do you feel about a blind date?”
yes, conny met you, the love of his life, on a blind date set up by sasha with a stranger
it’s one of those funny stories that people don’t believe when you tell them, because how ridiculous is that, but you both think it’s perfect since you get along so well and it made all the waiting worth it
bonus: double dates with sasha and niccolo! fondue night at their apartment, going to the arcade and having to lug up sasha and her food baby while niccolo parks the car, just overall a grand time :)
𝐳𝐞𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫
zeke yeager, ph.d. started his new job at university with one rule in mind: absolutely no illicit affairs
he also coaches the club baseball team, because why not get involved on your campus
he really believes that he’s gonna stick with it too, despite the overwhelming number of students who come to his office hours with questions that his less handsome teaching assistants could answer
but no, he doesn’t want to earn a reputation as that professor, and so he heads into the new semester with absolutely no lingering thoughts of an exciting little dalliance to get him through the monotonous days
he knows his huge lecture classes would always come with a few pretty students, but it’s the smaller, upper-level psych class he’s teaching when he meets you for the first time
zeke has you all figured out, or so he thinks. sitting in the front row, raising your hand for questions he wasn’t expecting anyone to actually have an answer to, neatly handwritten notes in a color-coded notebook. he wouldn’t peg you for the type to jump and take the risk by starting a relationship with a professor.
but he soon realizes that he didn’t have you as figured out as he thought he did.
you avoid the gaggle of freshmen during office hours by scheduling meetings instead, sometimes right before class, coming to him with two cups of coffee and a wide smile that actually had him fooled into thinking you were here for academic reasons
this facade quickly fades though, because after a semester of interactions with you and getting more and more comfortable with each other, to the point where coffee orders are memorized and it’s zeke rather than professor yeager, you’ve had just about enough
he knows he’s fucked when you come visit him at practice for the baseball team, bringing him a drink and engaging in conversation while the players watch their coach flirt with you
he’s especially fucked when he realizes he’s looking forward to practice just because there’s a chance you’ll stop by on your way to your next class
you submit your final paper early, nearly a week before it’s due and of course the first in the class to do so, and waltz into his office the next day with another steaming cup of his favorite drink
“you submitted your paper pretty early, you know.”
“i know. i also know that it means i’m not your student anymore, so if you were going to make a move, now’s the time.”
no, he definitely had underestimated how much he knew about you.
𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐬𝐚 𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧
mikasa is a forensic sciences major and is still debating on the minor- she’s torn between criminal justice or history like armin.
she loves her major classes, but she just wants something else interesting to look forward to as well, so armin suggests sitting in on a couple classes early in the semester and getting a taste for it.
so you don’t really think twice when she claims the empty seat next to you on the first day of classes, smiling politely and paying attention to the professor. you do notice, however, that she’s not writing anything down or looking at the syllabus, leading you to strike a conversation on why that is.
she explains herself and then before you even know it, the lecture ends and you spent the last forty minutes talking to mikasa about anything and everything.
she’s sitting in on another class tomorrow, and absent mindedly invites you to come along, to which you agree all too quickly, because why wouldn’t you
numbers are exchanged, times are fixed, and mikasa leaves wondering why she’s so excited at the idea of sitting with you in class again.
you two hate the history class she had chosen, with the professor droning on and on and you being focused entirely on the conversation you’re having with mikasa
until the professor kicks the two of you out for not shutting up, that is
you’re both laughing hysterically once you reach the hallway
“i’m gonna have to discourage you from doing that history minor if that’s what all the classes are like.”
“well, i have to do criminal justice so we can have that class together, anyways.”
𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐭
true to form, annie goes into one of the most difficult majors: cheg. definitely flies through intro courses with straight As and minimal effort, but that’s also mostly because all she and bertholdt do is study
reiner tries his hardest to get her to go to a party every once in a while, but usually to no avail because she always has an exam to study for
you’re a tutor, and honestly, you’d say you were pretty good at your job. you can answer questions and explain reasonings fairly well to confused students. but when annie comes to your office hours with some complicated problems and she’s asking for explanations that you just don’t have, you literally feel your face burn with heat for the entirety of the time she’s there
long story short, your first encounter is embarrassing, to say the least. you’re stumbling over words as you try to look through your old notes and piece together an answer for annie, who you cannot even look in the eyes.
anyways, she leaves eventually and you want a hole to open in the ground and swallow you up, but at least she won’t be back next week, right?
wrong.
miss leonhart doesn’t know how to express her feelings any better than you, so her way of flirting is spending time with you in the tutor center as you fail to answer her questions time and time again
you want to scream at her to stop coming because she and you both know you’re not helping either of you with this
but also you really don’t want her to stop coming because you don’t have any other ways to see her outside of class
both of you reach your wit’s end on the same day, her coming to you with the absolute easiest problems she could find in the textbook, and you with every intention of asking her out to dinner
she opens her book, and you reach and close it quickly
“unless this is the only way you know how to flirt, something has to change now.”
𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐳𝐨𝐞
dr. zoë teaches, just, way too many classes
we’re talking multiple chemistry labs and upper-level research courses as well
you’re just a ph.d. student doing rotations as per usual, and you’ve heard the comments from students senior to you about dr. zoë, who makes every student in rotation say hange instead of the formal way you’re used to
you’ve heard everything from crazy to genius and everything in between
what you weren’t expecting was… so good looking, and young? and comforting? and talking about all the things that you didn’t have the guts to bring up with other people, like how you always feel a little left out in the field and that you think no one cares about your research interests that much—a lot of stuff that you find yourself pouring out to hange on your very first day in the lab
you’re wondering why it’s so easy to talk to them, and why none of the other rotations ever felt this comfortable
and then you realize you’re spilling your guts to someone who probably doesn’t even care, and has way more to deal with on their plate than a ph.d. student with imposter syndrome
so you’re apologizing right after you’ve finished, when you’re met with the warmest look and a reassuring hand on your shoulder
it’s so easy to fall after that, with weekly meetings and regular check-ins, and you know it’s wrong to have this strange crush on your superior, but hange really feels like the one person you can count on here
you hide the crush in favor of getting the mentorship you desperately think you need, but it’s not long until you’re onto the next rotation and the next lab’s work is even closer to the stuff you love
you hate the way you feel, that you’re not gonna have any reason to keep in touch and you never even got to explain how you feel about them—and that you didn’t even get to experience hange’s energy because she was always listening and helping you out
it’s not until you get a text the night before your first day in the new lab from hange, filled with reassuring words and asking for a coffee date later in the week to talk about how it goes, that you realize just how well hange understood you
𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫
last but not least, miss pieck is double majoring in french and public health
absolutely obsessed with her majors and loves the subjects, but works herself to death to keep up with it all
you don’t even realize that the pretty, studious girl you’re seeing in the library all the time is the same girl you spot with some of your friends from class
pieck is as oblivious as they come. you invite her on study dates after you two are introduced by reiner, invite her to get coffee after a particularly late night of studying, pretty much start spending most of your days together
you can’t help but be disappointed that pieck doesn’t see you in that way, because you’ve slowly been falling head over heels, but you accept that maybe it just wasn’t meant to be, and you still love the friendship you two have
it takes a while for things to click for pieck, but they do right as the semester eases up
once exams are over, you two decide to go to these famous parties porco and reiner never stop talking about
it’s not the usual scene you’re comfortable with, but what’s wrong with letting loose a little, especially after midterms? no harm in having fun, right?
wrong again! you definitely get plastered way too quickly, and eventually pieck takes you to a room to settle down
drunk confessions of love aren’t usually the way to go, but you can’t help but reveal everything you’ve been feeling for the last few months when pieck is taking care of you in your current state
you definitely wake up hungover and ignorant to last night’s shenanigans, but you’re in your dorm, with a bottle of water and ibuprofen on the nightstand, phone plugged in and shoes off
pieck comes back with breakfast, coffee and your favorite pastries, and checks up on you
“so.. about last night..”
“i’m so sorry, did i throw up on you?”
“no, but you did say you were in love with me. was that just a drunk thing, or is it a sober thing too? because i think i’m in love with you too.”
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spideyspeaches · 4 years ago
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Gold Rush ↬ t.h
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Gif by @parkeraul :)
A/N: I'm in love with that song 🙈 also here's my super late contribution of professor!tom 😋 cause I've been procrastinating on the wandavision au (in my defence though, it's taking a lot of brainstorming 😂) anyway here you go-
Wc: 2.6k+
Warnings: lemme know if you find one :)
Summary: He taught British History and you chastise yourself for not auditing for that subject earlier.
Pairing: Professor!Tom x Student!Reader
Masterlist || Taglist
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Waking up with a start, you groan at the shrill sound of your alarm. With a sigh that was more of a grunt of annoyance, you tried to reach for your phone at the side table, hissing when you felt the corner of your elbow hit the table, pain shooting up to your shoulder. 
Great, you weren't even up yet and your day was already going shitty. You just hoped that your professor won't be grumpy about you being late for the millionth time this semester. 
You hated cultural architecture. You had nothing against the course, but You hated your professor with a passion and wished that you could burn your textbooks for all you cared, right in front of your teacher's eyes, watch him writhe in fear as you banished the very existence of your material. 
You were being dramatic, but in your defence, your professor was an old bastard who never left an opportunity to reprimand you, going as far as letting you know how uneven your margins were on your latest project. 
He wore birkenstocks with a three piece. You wouldn't trust him with your assignments. 
Getting out of your dorm room was work, hard work. But you got out, brushed your teeth and wore what you hoped were presentable clothing. 
"You look hungover." Your roommate, Stacy, commented, spitting in the sink as you scowled at her. 
She was straightforward, outspoken and somehow managed to look like one of those Victoria secrets models that you loathed, even at seven in the morning. You hated her. 
(You didn't.)
"Thanks, I hope I smell too. Want that son of a bitch- what's his name, Wilson, to suffer for giving me that C minus on my thesis." You grumbled, rubbing your hands through your hair to flat them out. 
"You really hate him, don't you." She snickered, popping off her shirt. You tried not to look, not wanting to come off as a pervert, but damn, she was fit. You contemplated her words, frowning at your own reflection. 
You looked disheveled, the dark eye bags under your eyes very apparent as you tried to mask them with foundation, setting your hair for the millionth time. Oh well, you were presentable enough. Sweatpants would have to do for your only class today, you could binge Netflix after this wretched class. 
"I do. I hope his third wife divorces him and he loses his thermos of coffee in the subway." You said, adding your look finally before wearing your shoes. 
"That's cruel, didn't know you had it in you." She snickered, patting your back and following you as you closed the door, "Well I have to go to my boring science lectures now so, see you later hun." 
"Yeah, enjoy your chemistry period with your boyfriend!" You cheered sarcastically, rolling your eyes and hugging her to tell her that you were only joking. Your relationship was this, of jokes and hugs and kisses. You considered her your best friend. 
Rushing towards the gates of your university, you hastily tightened your loosening hair tie, adjusting the straps of your bags. You were pretty sure you had broken your record of being late to your class. You may hate the professor, but you actually enjoyed the subject. 
Wheezing as you ran past the late comers, you nodded at the receptionist, hastily signing yourself in. You would blame your clumsiness for what happened next, because one second you were fixing your sande on the foot of the fountain, and next thing you knew you were crashing into a firm body, your nose hitting the random stranger’s chest.
"I’m so sorry! I’m kinda late to class and I wasn’t looking and- whoa, ow.” You rushed your words, groaning when you felt blood rush from your head to toe, nose throbbing with double vision, a reminder of your clumsiness. 
“Whoa, hey calm down, it’s okay, I wasn’t looking either.” The stranger said, his thick South Western accent snapping you out of your self pity. 
You felt blood rush to your cheeks instead, not anticipating your face in a flush this early in the morning, when you got a good look at the stranger. He was good looking, in his black high turtleneck and brown checkered pants. He had a small leather satchel clutched in his hands, face looking as flushed as you felt when you realised that you had been gawking at him.
He was probably no older than his mid twenties, making you wonder what he was doing in your university. He was too old to be a student, and too young to be a professor. But then again, you wouldn't judge him for joining college late.
Right? 
"S-sorry, you um, you must be really late, you should go." He stuttered, your heart fluttering at his dimpled chin and thick accent. His eyes were gleaming in the morning sun, captivating in a way that left you in awe. 
"Um yeah, I am." You nodded, composing yourself, hoping that you didn't look too sleep deprived or disheveled, "where are you going, if you don't mind me asking."  
"Um, the architecture wing?" He said, unconsciously stepping besides you.
"Oh, I'm going that way. Is it your first time coming here? Haven't seen you around." You asked, trying not to stare at his sharp jawline and the way the morning sun hit him just right, illuminating and accentuating his curly brown hair. 
"Yeah, it's my first lecture, so um, looks like I'm late too." He smiled. It was infectious, you noticed as you mirrored his expression. 
"Oh, you're a student?" 
"Actually, I'm a professor. Just transferred from UCL." 
So you were right, he was a professor. He looks so young though. You thought, nodding at him, your thoughts interrupted by his laugh. Looking at him with confusion, you raised an eyebrow. 
"Yeah, everyone says that. I started right after finishing graduation so, I guess I'm not much older than you." He smiled, kicking the small pebbles littered around the set grassy ground. It had just rained, the smell of wet ground still fresh. 
"I said that out loud didn't I?" You smirked, ducking your head to hide. 
"You did." 
Entering the building, you realised that you hadn't asked which subject he taught, crossing your fingers and hoping that he would replace the old bastard that taught you cultural architecture. 
"I forgot to ask, which lecture do you teach?" You asked, looking for your class in the end. The hallways were empty, it was way past your first lecture and all the students were already in the auditorium. 
"Oh, uh, British History." He answered. You didn't let disappointment show too much on your face, smiling shyly before gesturing towards the class, "that's you." 
"Oh, um thank you." He smiled, pursing his thin lips together as he walked towards the class. You could hear screaming of the students as you both neared the classroom, you still standing by the door, "I didn't get your name." 
His question snapped you out of your disappointed gaze, 
"Oh, it's Y/n. Y/n L/n." You said with a smile. 
"Pleasure to meet you Y/n, I'm Thomas Holland, but you can call me Tom." He said awkwardly, before turning back to his class, who had yet to notice him.
"The pleasure's all mine Professor." 
For the first time in your college life, you didn't feel like tearing your hair off during your lecture, your thoughts wandering around. You wanted to berate yourself for not paying attention, but your thoughts kept going there. 
It was funny, how you met him not long ago and he was already taking up residence in your brain. You could not control your feelings after all. Something akin to nausea or excitement eased into your stomach when you pictured his smile, his black turtleneck that accentuated his biceps and pectorals. The little rebellious eyebrow and the tiny scar above it. 
It made your heart flutter, everything seemingly seemed to stop around you. It scared you a bit, how You had managed to envision the little details of his face in your brain after such a short duration. 
You didn't realise that you were smiling until you felt a nudge on your side, making you nearly jump on your seat. 
"What?!" You hissed, scowling at your classmate. 
"Who're you thinking about?" She asked, wiggling her eyebrows as she leaned towards you. You had known her long enough to know her name but never bothered learning, and you were too scared to ask now. 
"It's none of your business." You muttered, glancing up to see your professor scowling at a student as they stood up. 
"Well okay, but did you hear about the hot new professor? Apparently he's teaching British History, I regret not taking that as a subject now." She said, her cheeks flushed with excitement. You furrowed your brows, feeling a pang in your chest at the realisation that you were probably just another girl with a stupid crush on the hot professor, that there were already girls who would die to feel his touch. 
"How do you know about him?" You asked, raising an eyebrow as you try to act nonchalant. You weren't being subtle, apparently, because you could see her snapping her bubblegum with a smirk, leaning forward as if trading secrets. 
"You kidding right? Everyone knows about him, you got a crush on him or something?" She suggested, scooting close enough to make you squirm. 
"I literally just met him, and ew, he's a professor, why would I see him that way?" You whisper, willing your heart to stop palpitating at the thought of said professor, your gut twisting in anticipation. 
"I don't know girl, he's hot and young and so much better than this bastard." She sighed, leaning on her palm with a fake dreamy expression. 
You went back to ignoring her after that, noticing how her notebook said 'Eloise'. At least you didn't have to ask her her name now. 
Your class went surprisingly well, or maybe it was because you weren't paying attention and thinking about him again. You really needed to get a grip on yourself. 
Walking out of your class, you decided to go to the cafeteria, your stomach begging for your attention.
Setting your things on a table, you took out your phone to scroll through Instagram, before switching it off and looking around the cafeteria. You didn't know what you were expecting to see, but your stomach was gurgling with hunger and nothing made sense when you were hungry. 
Walking to grab something to eat, you pick up your bag, hanging it over one of your shoulders before getting in the line. 
Just as you were about to turn with your bun and cup of coffee, you crashed into someone for the second time that day. Cursing your clumsiness, you heard a familiar British accent curse not very colourful words, making you stumble over as you tried to wipe off the hot coffee off his shirt.
"Hey, it's okay." He said, stopping your frantic gestures by holding your wrist with his to cease any movements.
"Professor Holland! I'm so sorry, it's like, I'm just clumsy. I have no excuse." You sighed in resignation, mentally facepalming at spilling your coffee at the hot professor. 
"It's okay darling, I've had much worse spilled on me." He smirked, his hand still holding on to yours. You had started walking away from the location, and yet his hand didn't let go, "You know, I used to babysit during my college days." 
"Oh, babysitting, right of course." You chuckled awkwardly, chest heaving with the sudden close proximity with the professor, dissipating the not quite PG thought that just occurred in your mind at his words.. 
"Sorry for-" You said in unison with him, chuckling. 
"You go first." He said.
"I'm sorry for spilling coffee on You, it must have hurt and I ruined your shirt and now there's a big splotch of coffee right in the middle!" You said, circling your fingers around your palm as you walked with your back to the exit as you walked out of the cafeteria, food forgotten and him following your pace. 
Before you could continue your awkward blabber, you were standing in the garden outside, leaning against a pillar with the garden in your view looking golden in the setting sun. He was standing in your view, the shadows around his jaw making it look sharp enough to cut glass. 
Taking a breath, you looked up at his smiling form with confusion when he didn't answer, instead leant onto the pillar next to you.
"You were... gonna say something?" You reminded, smiling awkwardly as you fiddled with your fingers.
"Oh? Oh! Oh yes yes, You know, I was kind of disappointed that you weren't in my class, Mister Wilson talks very highly of you." He said, folding his arms on his chest, it made his biceps bulge. 
"He does?" You looked at him with surprise, guilt panging in your chest when you remembered yourself bad mouthing the professor not long ago. 
"Yes, says you're a bright student with a bright future." He answered, leaning his head back so that his neck was exposed, Adam's Apple bobbing as he gulped, his hair falling into place perfectly against his forehead. The arch of his neck was beautiful, tracing it with your eyeballs as you imagined which other curves of his were as beautiful, immediately dismissing those thoughts, chastising yourself for thinking such a way of a professor. 
"That's… sweet of him. I've never heard him compliment me once in the two and half years I've been in his class." You chuckle, leaning your elbow on the pillar to get a better look at his side profile. 
"Hmm, he says he's hard on you because he wants you to do your best..." 
You stopped listening past that, your breath growing more erratic the more he talked, his smooth voice washing over you like warm honey with a squeeze of lemon. Swallowing a sudden lump in your throat, your heart leaping, leaving you nauseous and in a dream like trance. 
Tom noticed immediately, noticing your slouched posture as you stared at him with a small smile, the upturn of your lips so inviting that he almost dived in, wanting to know the feeling of them what they felt like against his. 
He wasn't the kind to date his students, in fact, he rarely dated after joining uni and becoming a professor. 
He strictly believed that student/teacher relationships should end in only a professional non romantic set up. That was all up until he crashed into you that morning. 
You had been in his mind all day, stirring him crazy as he imagined your smile, the way your eyes lit up when you talked about your subject of interest, the say your fingers fiddled with the ring you wore on your index finger. 
He wondered if this feeling would last forever or become a vague memory, an attraction of hearts that didn't last but felt good till it did. If he was rushing, or if you even felt the same way. 
He was smart, of course that's how he became a teacher, but he still couldn't place your feelings. 
So when he saw you staring at him, his heart leaping in his throat at your adorable smile, the only logical answer his brain gave was that you liked him too. Temporary attraction or not, he wasn't one to look a gift horse in it's mouth. 
Next thing he knew your lips were crashing onto his, your chest pressed against his firmly as your hands reached up to the base of his neck. 
Your fingers were soft, tongue swishing against his as he opened his mouth to let you enter. His hands automatically reach for your waist, holding onto firmly as he slammed you against the pillar. 
The sun was nearly down, the last of the rays hitting the garden, lighting you both up in a golden glow that left you breathless with a fire raging in your souls. 
"What do you say that I audit for British history? I'd like to learn more lessons from you, Professor Holland." You said, breathless against his chest, hiding your nose against his sternum, blood rushing to your ears as his warm hand burned against the bare skin underneath your shirt. 
"That would be great darling, anything to see your pretty smile every morning." 
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A/N: let me know what you think! :)
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quokkacore · 4 years ago
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please don’t bite [wong yukhei] (m)
part of the wasn’t on pawpose collab
summary: you’d always prided yourself on being able to read people well and managing yourself as an independent hybrid in a world that was still getting over that. but when lucas, your best friend, manages to get himself turned into a wolf hybrid, it has you second-guessing everything you thought you knew about yourself, him, and the both of you, together. 
pairing: wolfhybrid!lucas x bunnyhybrid!femreader
genre: friends to enemies to lovers, fluff, smut, angst, thriller if you squint
warnings: language, lucas is a bit of a dick, medical experimentation, mentions of sexual harassment, knotting, breeding kink, mating cycles, degradation (use of the word bitch to be specific), dirty talk, biting, marking, size kink, possessiveness, jealousy, mentioned doyoung x reader, momentarily dubious consent, stomach bulging, slight predator x prey dynamic between lucas and reader
song rec: troye sivan - bite ♡ wonder girls - why so lonely  ♡ neon trees - everybody talks  ♡ harry styles - cherry  ♡ the 1975 - tonight (i wish i was your boy)  ♡ sunmi - 24/7  ♡ loona (jinsoul)  - singing in the rain ♡ fall out boy - hold me tight, or don’t  ♡ wayv - bad alive
word count: 17.6k
a/n: this turned out a lot longer and a lot angstier than i expected. also.... dont ask where yukhei’s human ears went. i don’t know either :P
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masterlist
You were going to kill Lee Taemin, if the dean of your university didn’t do it first. This was all his fault. 
It all started at the beginning of the semester, when Lucas, your best friend and roommate, had told you during dinner he was helping your older friend, Taemin with an experiment for his Ph.D. You'd expected him to say he'd be handing out surveys on Main Street or trying some new diet and writing down the effects, or something along those lines. 
Nope, not at all. What he really said had thrown you for a loop. “Actually, I’m gonna be trying out some hybrid hormone pills he’s been working on that have finally been cleared for human testing.”
You’d choked on the pizza you were eating. “You’re going to do what!?” You cried when you finally managed to swallow your food.
“Dude, chill,” He answered, large hands waving back and forth passively, “Taemin hyung is 99% percent sure that they’re absolutely safe. I’m just supposed to go in for testing once a week and write down any side effects I feel, which, according to him, should be at most three or four, and they’re not even that major.”
“Okay…” You’d answered, quirking your head. You were still slightly wary, your ears twitching. "And Taemin's like, completely sure they're safe to eat?" 
Lucas nodded, demeanor completely casual. His calm expression did nothing to deter your concerns, mind going a mile a minute when a new thought popped into your mind.
“Yukhei, what kind of hybrid hormones are you even taking? Predator hybrids or prey hybrids?”
His smile had disappeared slightly, and his eyes left your face to stare down at his plate. Your stomach sank, and your foot started tapping in distress.
“Wong Yukhei. What kind of hormones are they gonna give you.”
“They’re, uh… alpha wolf hormones.”
Your eyes widened, and he rushed to placate you. “Y/N, bunny, calm down. I know how you feel about predator hybrids, but I wouldn’t be doing this if I thought there was something weird about this whole thing. The dean is breathing down Taemin’s neck telling him not to fuck it up. Trust me, he wouldn’t be doing this if he wasn’t absolutely certain that it was safe.”
You chewed on your lips, before sighing. “Please be careful, Xuxi. You’re my best friend. I don’t want you to hurt yourself all because Taem wants to find a way to get taller after puberty.”
Lucas had laughed, glad that the mood in your kitchen had shifted from tense to slightly less tense. He grabbed your hand, your eyes dropping to glance at it for a second, before looking him in his eyes. “If you want… He told me earlier he’d be at the lab until like, midnight. Maybe we could go pay him a visit, and he can explain everything better, you know?”
You pursed your lips, glancing at the clock. It was almost eight. After a few seconds, you huffed, and nodded, the tension finally diffusing.
“Alright, alright, let me get my jacket.”
He grinned at you, and you flashed him a smile back, automatically endeared at his goofy expression as he disappeared to gather his things. You smiled to yourself, looking down at your hands which had fallen into your lap, sighing.
Too cute. He's too cute.
The walk to the campus lab took about fifteen minutes, maybe less. Lucas, despite being taller than you, actually walked at a much more snail-like pace, and thus fell victim to your playful teasing over his slow walk.
"You're part bunny," He pointed out, eyes briefly glancing at the white rabbit ears poking out from your hair, "You have that natural spring in your step."
"Bull," You countered with a smile, turning to face him, now walking backwards, "They disproved the whole ‘rabbit hybrids run faster than humans’ theory years ago. You just suck at walking, Xuxi."
"You just suck at walking, Xuxi," Lucas grumbled, mocking your tone, but there was no malice behind it. You laughed, turning as he took a few quicker strides to catch up. His hand came up to pat the spot between your fluffy ears at the top of your head, and you hummed in satisfaction as the door of the chemistry department finally came into view. 
The ride up the elevator was quiet. You were still slightly uneasy, ears twitching, something Lucas easily picked up on. He flashed you a soft smile, pulling you closer.
“Everything will be fine, bunny. I promise.”
You nodded, pressing your head against his shoulder. You took a deep breath, taking in Lucas’s distinct scent of cinnamon. “I’m sorry I blew up at you earlier… But you gotta admit, it sounds risky. And with the side effects, I thought maybe it would affect behaviot, and a lot of predator hybrids are just huge dicks, sometimes, especially around prey hybrids, you know? They’re creepy and asshole-ish and, well, you remember the snow leopard guy we met at The Burrow a few months ago, right?”
Lucas’s eyes darkened, recalling the time you had to mace a hybrid at a bar because the guy was getting handsy with you, despite the fact that you had made it incredibly clear that you weren’t interested. He nodded, staring at his feet.
“I don’t want any of Taemin’s weird science hurting you or affecting your behavior.”
He nodded, eyes sympathetic. “I totally get it. But like I said earlier, I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t trust hyung with it 100%, or if I thought that it could hurt me or you in any way. You’re my bunny, you know? I would never do anything to hurt you.” 
“I know, I know, Xuxi, and I trust you… But I will cut Taemin’s legs off if you die.”
He shook his head, his amused smile growing lopsided on his features.
Finally, the elevator made a ding! and the doors slid open. The hallway was lit with industrial fluorescent lights, much brighter than the warm light of the elevator.
Lucas’s larger hand grabbed yours, leading you down the hallway. 
“I don’t even remember the last time I saw Taem,” You mumbled, not really thinking about the topic, “It’s like he lives here now.”
“Yeah, I know,” Lucas replied, “Baekhyun hyung’s been begging him to just let it go for at least a night, but he’s obsessed.”
A few doors later, and you finally arrived at the one indicating it was the floor’s chemistry lab, and Lucas knocked once, twice, before a soft, muffled voice said, “Come in!”
Lucas opened the door, letting you step in first before following suit and closing the door behind him. On the other end of the lab, stood a thin, short man facing away from the both of you, typing away at a laptop. You knew it was Taemin, he smelled like Taemin, but your mind didn’t immediately register that it was him; his ashy blond hair was up in a hairnet, he was wearing a long lab coat, and there were blue latex gloves covering his hands. 
“Hyung?” Lucas asked, and the typing stopped abruptly as Taemin turned, took in the sight of the both of you, before flashing a gummy smile. 
“Hey! Y/N, long time, no see. And Yukhei!! Just the person I wanted to talk to.” His tone was pleasant, excited. “I wanted to talk to you about your hormone treatment.” 
“That’s great, because we wanted to talk to you about it also.”
Taemin furrowed his eyebrows, giving a slight shake of his head. His eyes flicked back and forth between you and Lucas. “We?”
Your eyes widened before holding out your hands. You exchanged a brief look with Lucas, whose ears were a bright red. 
“I wanted to know about the whole wolf hormone thing because… you know. Well, you know how we live together, and prey hybrids and predator hybrids don’t really get along well, you know? I mean, I know that it’s just hormones, but… should we be worried about anything? Should I be worried?”
Taemin’s mouth dropped open slightly as he registered what you said, and he shut his eyes before shaking your head.
“No, not at all! I totally understand your concerns, Y/N. We’re using several different test subjects for the human testing, all with different circumstances, but they’re our ‘demographic’ when it comes to using the treatment. A few are hard of hearing, others have suffered physical trauma in their legs or arms, some have poor eyesight. Our intention with using wolf hormones is to see if it can be used as adequate treatment for specific disabilities.”
“Lucas doesn’t have any of those things?” You said, confused. You glanced at Lucas, who was still watching Taemin, before the latter spoke again.
“He’s part of a separate group, people who have no major medical ailments or physical disabilities. We want to see what the effects could be on the statistically average human.”
You nodded, still feeling slightly uneasy despite Taemin’s otherwise chipper attitude. “So the expected changes are going to be mostly physical? No behavioral side effects?” 
“A few behavioral side effects, but nothing major. Increased appetite, irritability, high energy, maybe increased libido. Nothing too major. Mostly we’re trying to see if he gets stronger, or if his hearing and eyesight improve… I understand you feel worried, Y/N, but the members of my research team and I have been working around the clock to make sure that these pills are absolutely safe for human consumption. From our research, there’s like, a 98.7% chance that nothing other than the expected side effects will show up, and those aren’t really behavioral at all.”
“Why not 100%?” You asked, eyes shifting back and forth uneasily.
Taemin grimaced, gaze sympathetic as he exchanged a look with Lucas, and then with you. “Well, nothing is ever 100% confirmed, so science doesn’t really lend itself to certainty, y’know?”
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That had been two months ago.
For the first two weeks, everything seemed like it would be fine. Lucas’s only complaints about the hormone pills were that they made his hair grow a bit faster and that they were so big that they were hard to swallow. Then… things started to happen.
First, he started to eat a whole lot more. Every time you saw him between classes, he seemed to be chewing on something. You were grateful he wasn’t touching your food, because he seemed to only ever be eating meat.
“Didn’t Taemin say I’d probably get hungrier?” He asked one night, eating a ham sandwich as he sat on the couch. You were resting your head on his thigh, scrolling through Instagram while hoping that any crumbs wouldn’t fall into your hair or your ears.. You set down your phone, blinking as you tried to remember, before nodding. 
“Yeah, he did. Shouldn’t you write that down?”
“Uhh… Yeah.” He stood, you sitting up, and walked towards his room, probably to do as you suggested, before he called out to you one last time. He at least had the decency to look a bit sheepish.
“Hey bunny, can you, uh, order some Chinese food?”
Then he started complaining about loud noises. However, from what you could tell, there were no loud noises at all. Your rabbit ears, from what you understood, had similar hearing to that of humans, only you were slightly more sensitive to higher frequencies. So you were incredibly confused when Lucas barged in while you were pacing in your room, going over flashcards for an exam, dark eyes glaring at you. He seemed slightly ticked off.
“Can you please stop stomping around in here? I’m trying to finish a paper.”
Your eyebrows furrowed, and you glanced down at your feet, which were covered by a pair of fuzzy socks. “Uhh, I’m not stomping?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Y/N, I’m serious, stop yelling. This paper is due tomorrow and it’s like 15% of my final grade.” 
“And I’m serious too?” Your tone was perplexed, because you weren’t yelling at all, “I was just pacing, Xuxi, like this.”
You took a few steps back and forth to show him, footsteps light, barely audible, and his face scrunched up in discomfort. 
“But… it’s so loud. It’s giving me a headache.”
You made a face, before your eyebrows shot up, and your ears did as well. 
“Do you think it’s because of the hormones?” You asked, lowering your voice so it was just above a whisper, “Taemin said that would probably happen, remember? Wolves have crazy hearing.”
He opened his mouth to answer, before closing it again. He flashed you a weird look, before shaking his head. “Okay...? I’ll tell hyung that it’s working… But like, can you please just sit down while you study?” 
You nodded, sympathetic, and he closed the door. But a few seconds later, he reopened it. He looked a bit confused. “Is that… new perfume?”
It was your turn to make a face at him. “Huh?”
He shook his head, still looking confused. “Uh, nothing,” He mumbled, waving a dismissive hand, “Never mind. Forget I asked.” 
He closed the door a final time, and you were left even more weirded out than you already were. 
Somehow, he got even taller than he already was. A few days later when you were making breakfast for the both of you and you had your back turned, he came and hugged you from behind, still addled with sleep. You paid him no mind, continuing your task. One of his arms wrapped itself around your neck, almost as if he were trying to put you into a loving headlock, something he often did. In response, you did what you often did whenever he did so, which was to nuzzle your chin against his forearm.
"Good morning," He hummed, voice deep and raspy, “That smells good."
“For you,” You answered, scrunching up your nose as you turned over the bacon, “I feel like you forget sometimes that my genes make me a herbivore, Xuxi.”
Lucas stepped away, and you frowned at the loss of warmth. “Eh, sometimes. Do you want me to grab a plate?”
You set down the spatula before turning off the stove, as you turned to face him. 
“You can serve yours—oh my god.”
You had lifted your head to where you usually did to look up at Lucas, and for some reason, had only been met with his neck. You craned your neck back even further, and met his eyes, which held a confused look, eyebrows furrowed, mouth agape. 
“Did you get… smaller?”
“No,” You mumbled, still in disbelief, “I think you got… bigger. H-how tall exactly were you again?”
“Uh, 1.83 meters.”
You nodded, closing your mouth. “Yeah, you’re definitely more than that now.”
Lucas peered down at you, gaze slightly concerned. “This is starting to get really weird. Should I write this down?”
You frowned, looking him up and down. The shirt he’d went to bed with, an oversized white tee, now fit him better. “Yukhei, at this point, I think you should go see Taemin. Did he even mention growth spurts?”
Lucas blinked, before pushing the hair out of his still puffy, sleep ridden eyes. “Hmm, I don’t think he did. I’ll eat breakfast and then go see him.”
According to Lucas, when he’d gotten back, Taemin had been over the moon when he’d measured him and found he’d grown almost 11 centimeters in his sleep, now standing at 1.94 meters. 
Everything had been somewhat tolerable. Not yet batshit insane. Lucas’s mood swings were relatively easy to handle as long as you left him alone whenever he seemed pissy, and he always apologized afterwards. He started staying up even later, but you didn’t really mind since he did his best not to be too loud. 
Sure, the fact that his hair started growing faster and ended up in the shower drain when he decided to “manscape” (his words, not yours) was gross, but bearable. His random bursts of energy, making him even more eccentric than he already was, were kind of like babysitting a huge, five year old Lucas doped up on caffeine. Which, while a bit more tiring to put up with, had not yet crossed into uncanny territory.
Yet. 
It all came to a head one Sunday morning, when Lucas had woken you up when he started screaming from the bathroom. You were woken from your peaceful slumber, and immediately stumbled out of bed to see what was going on, tripping on your way out the door in your panic.
“Yukhei!?” You shouted, slamming the door open. Your eyes were wide. Your heart was racing. Immediately your nose was hit with a strange odor. That put you even more on edge than you already were. Your eyes scanned the small bathroom in a haste. Your eyes fell to the corner. There, was Lucas, huddling. Knees to his chest, hands covering the top of his head, trembling and babbling incoherently, the sound muffled by the fact that his face was buried somewhere in between his knees and his chest.
“Y-Yukhei?” You repeated again, this time quieter, breathing heavily, anxiously. Was he having a panic attack? Was this a side effect of the treatment? “C-can I come closer?”
He trembled, not giving you an answer, still mumbling to himself. He seemed almost catatonic. Swallowing the lump in your throat at seeing your closest friend like this, you steeled yourself. Crouching, and slowly making your way to him, you cautiously held out an arm, and slowly, slowly, touched his hand.
He immediately flinched away, your heart dropping at his action. He sniffled, letting out a little sob, and tears sprung into your eyes. You blinked them away as best you could. He needed someone to lean on, and you couldn’t do that if you were an emotional mess.
“No, no,” He cried, voice small. “Please, stay away.”
“Yukhei,” You murmured, voice wavering, “I’m not gonna leave you like this. W-what’s wrong? Tell me Xuxi, please. You’re scaring me.”
“Y-you’ll hate me.”
You gasped quietly, resting your hand on his. “Xuxi… I could never hate you.”
“Even looking like this!?” He snapped harshly, lifting his gaze, dropping his arms, and you fell back onto your butt in shock. Your mouth fell open, eyes wide, white ears stood at full attention.
You peered into Lucas’s teary, red rimmed eyes. Only they weren’t Lucas’s eyes. Lucas’s eyes had always been a deep, rich brown, reminiscent of the earth. But these eyes were a bright, glowing amber, seeming almost radioactive in how much brighter they were than Lucas's old eye color. 
Your mouth moved as you scrambled to say something, but no sound came out. Your eyes caught the attention of something twitching atop Lucas’s head, and you blinked dumbly, taking in the salt and pepper pointy ears peeking out between his caramel colored hair, before scanning his entire body and taking in the thick tail swishing back and forth behind him.
The blood in your body ran cold as you took a deep breath through the nose. Lucas’s signature scent of cinnamon was still there, but now overpowered by the strange odor from earlier. You realized with a chill that the scent was earthy, musky, a smell you were no stranger to as a hybrid. Your animal instincts automatically kicked in, whispering in your mind: predator. wolf. danger. danger. danger.
 “I…” Your voice was hoarse as you pushed yourself up onto the balls of your feet, inching closer towards him slowly, despite the hairs on your neck standing straight up and telling you to run far, far away. 
“Y-Yukhei, what happened?”
He shook his head, shaking like a leaf. “I don’t know,” He mumbled in a daze, and although he was staring at you with those strange yellow eyes, you got the impression from the blank look in them that he wasn’t really looking at you. “I woke up, and I c-came in here and I looked in the mirror and…”
He didn’t finish, but you got the point. You pursed your lips, before making your way towards him, but he let out a groan and you froze in your spot as he knocked his head against the wall, eyes fluttering shut. 
“What is that smell?” He growled, “Why do you smell like that?”
“Like what?” You asked quietly, anticipating his answer. He shook his head, cracking his eyes open ever so slightly to peer at you. His gaze seemed to freeze you in place. 
“Like… jasmine? I mean, it’s so strong…”
You stared at him, wide-eyed, unable to tell him that that was your characteristic scent as a hybrid. You were still reeling from the fact that Lucas, who up until yesterday, aside from a few obnoxious habits, had been very human, was now a hybrid just like you, with ears and a tail and…
You glanced down at his gritted teeth, taking note of the very, very sharp canines that had seemingly grown overnight. 
You gulped, looking up at him. His wide eyes showed you that he was just as terrified as you were, and you swallowed back your wariness when your heart clenched at the sight. He needed help more than you needed comforting.“We need to get you to Taemin. Now.”
You had to force Lucas into his car, which was not easy in his dazed state, considering he was so much bigger than you. Towering over you, pure muscle, and basically a limp rag doll. In your panic, you’d forgotten your phone, your pants, and to give Lucas some shoes. You did the driving despite the fact that it was his car. He still seemed too frazzled to do so, so you buckled him up and started the ten minute drive to Taemin’s apartment.  
On the way, you did your best to ignore the situation at hand. That just because Lucas was a predator hybrid now didn’t automatically make him like the rest of them. Lucas wasn’t like the pervy fox hybrids who would follow you for blocks when you were in high school. He wasn’t like the snow leopard you’d forced off of yourself. He was Lucas, he was Yukhei. He was your Xuxi, and you needed to repeat yourself that he wouldn’t hurt a fly. 
The silence in the car was tense. You were sure that with his heightened senses, Lucas could hear everything, and you didn’t want to say anything to upset him further. He didn’t say anything to you. You didn’t say anything to him. And when you parked in front of Taemin’s apartment building, you got him out of the car, and grabbed him by the hand to walk to the door.
You were grateful it was Sunday morning. There weren’t that many people out on the street as you tapped your foot impatiently, pressing the button to buzz the comm on Taemin’s apartment incessantly. The few people that did pass were more focused on your sleep-addled bedhead and bare feet than anything else, and you thanked the universe for the fact that your oversized sleep shirt fell to your mid thighs. 
“It’s eight in the morning. Literally what do you want,” A deep, groggy voice grumbled, and you rolled your eyes. Finally.
“It’s Y/N and Lucas,” You said into the speaker, pressing a hand to your forehead in frustration. “You need to see this, now.”
 “Uhh, it’s Jongin,” The voice mumbled, and your eyes squeezed shut. He sounded so hungover. And whenever Jongin was hungover, that probably meant Taemin was hungover as well, and that it was generally Baekhyun’s idea. 
“Wake Taem up, please, Nini,” You pleaded desperately. “It’s life or death.”
“Fine, fine, okay. Come on up.”
When you made it up to their floor, a bedraggled Jongin opened the door. He was shirtless, his hair was sticking up in random spots, his face was still puffy, and he didn’t look happy to be woken up.
He looked you up and down, eyebrows furrowing at your appearance. “I swear this had better be good,” He told you, before turning to look at Lucas, “or I’m gonna—”
Jongin cut himself off as he registered the pointy ears, the fluffy tail, and the glowing yellow eyes. His eyes widened, certainly looking more awake now. His mouth started moving, but no sound came out.
“I—uh—is this why—?”
“Get Taemin,” You snapped, ready to kill him. You were furious, to say the least, ready to barge in and kick Taemin’s ass. This was his fault, all in the name of mad science. But then you added softly, voice wavering, “I don’t know what to do.”
For someone who almost never stopped talking, Taemin had nothing to say, for once. Instead, his eyes turned wide as saucers, his eyebrows jumped up to his hairline, and you were sure that if his jaw could have dropped any lower, it would have fallen below sea level. When he finally did manage to speak, his voice was small and unsure, and he never stopped gawking at the ears on Lucas’s head.
“Uh… Y-Y/N, Jongin, could you give us a minute, please?” 
So you did, letting them walk off to Taemin’s bedroom, and as Jongin sat you down on the couch to make you some tea, Baekhyun emerged from his own bedroom. Baekhyun at least looked a bit more awake than the dynamic duo, who, in their hungover state, both looked like the walking dead. 
“Y/N?” He asked, seeing you on the couch. He had a small but confused smile on his face. “What are you doing here…?”
“You’re not gonna believe what Taemin did to Yukhei,” Jongin’s voice declared from the kitchen. Baekhyun furrowed his eyebrows, craning his head once, to look at Taemin’s shut door, again, to look at Jongin standing at the cupboard, and then to you, sitting on the couch with a blank stare on your face.
Baekhyun blinked. “Shit, did he kill him?” 
You pursed your lips, staring at him wide eyed, eyebrows furrowed. Your look was meant to convey something along the lines of, you’ve got to be kidding me. And by the way Baekhyun grimaced at himself a few moments later, broad shoulders scrunching up, he got the message loud and clear.
“Sorry. Just trying to lighten the situation, I guess?”
“Not helping, hyung,” Jongin huffed as he made his way over to you, handing you the warm mug of tea. You accepted it with a quiet “thanks,” before blowing on the tea and taking a quick sip. 
“What even happened?” Jongin’s deep voice was quiet, concerned. He sat down next to you, and Baekhyun sat down on your other side.
So you told the story from the beginning of the treatment, all the way up to when you decided to bring Lucas to Taemin. The hearing, the growth spurt, his mood swings. They listened, nodding along to the story and thankfully, not interrupting. From Baekhyun, at least, that was surprising. 
When you finished, you looked at them, then at your tea, which didn't feel as hot anymore. You lifted the mug to your lips, relishing the warm chamomile taste as Baekhyun opened his mouth to speak. Still not very comforting, but at least you were filling your stomach with something.
"Wow…" He mumbled, still in slight disbelief. "So, Yukhei's a hybrid now?"
“I guess. I don’t know.” Your voice sounded empty. 
Jongin sighed, gaze pensive. “What’s gonna happen between the two of you, though? You live together. You of all people know that prey hybrids and predator hybrids, living together in tiny spaces don’t really mix well.”
You frowned, settling the mug down on their coffee table. “It’s not like he’s gonna become one of those asshole-y hybrids overnight, y’know?” “Didn’t you say he snapped at you this morning?” Baekhyun asked, tilting his head. “You said he was having mood swings, too.” 
You shook your head, fluffy ears flattening against it as the stress seemed to accumulate in your body. “It wasn’t like that. I think he was just freaked out. And as for his mood swings… I don’t know.”
An awkward silence filled the room, and you gazed at your hands on your lap. 
“Uh, Y/N…” Jongin mumbled, tips of his ears a bright red, “A-are you wearing pants?”
“Oh,” You answered dumbly, feeling your face heat up, “Um… No? I kind of panicked and, uh, forgot to put some on.”
Jongin stood, holding out a hand. “Come on, you can borrow one of mine. You must be cold, right?”
You nodded, glancing at Baekhyun, who had a sympathetic smile on his face. You looked back to Jongin, and took his hand to stand up. He pulled you toward his room, trying to make you smile by telling you about his drunken escapades with Baekhyun and Taemin during karaoke. 
“Baekhyun almost got us kicked out while he was singing some Mamamoo song,” He said with a laugh, “You know how loud he gets.”
You smiled, giggling quietly as he opened a drawer, searching for something you could wear. After a few moments of fumbling around, he pulled out a pair of gray sweatpants, and shuffled towards you. 
“So,” You said, reaching for the fabric, “I’m guessing you and Taemin did your usual rendition of Fergali—”
The sound of a door opening across the hall interrupted you, one ear lifting as you turned your head. Taemin emerged, Lucas trailing behind him. Taemin had changed out of his pajamas and was now wearing some jeans and a t-shirt. Your eyes immediately met Lucas’s, but a second after, his eyes fell to Jongin, then the pair of pants you were reaching out for, then back to you. His gaze was hollow, unreadable, but his eyes still shone bright amber. Jongin tucked the fabric into your hands, and took a step away from you. He cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Hey, man, how are you doing?”
“Not really good, if I’m honest,” Lucas answered, practically glaring at the older man. You frowned at his tone. He was rarely this quiet.
“I did a quick check-up,” Taemin declared, “I don’t see any immediate risk, he seems to be safe for now.”
Your shoulders sagged, as you sighed in relief, tension leaving your body.
“But I’m still taking him to the lab,” Taemin said, eyes serious. “We never foresaw these... mutations. I need to run some tests and contact the team and the other test subjects. Y/N, you can stay here if you want, I don’t think Jongin and Baek hyung would mind—” 
“Head home, Y/N,” Lucas interjected, deep voice serious and clipped. He kept shifting his eyes in between you and Jongin. “I woke you up, you should go get some more sleep.”
The deep authority in his voice startled you. A small thought crossed your mind, submit, obey, and you realized that these were your rabbit instincts kicking in as it registered a predator in your midst. And that only happened when predator hybrids used a specific tone of speech, one used only to take command over a situation with other hybrids. It was a bit hard to disobey, but not impossible. With a chill, you realized he was probably doing this subconsciously. 
This wasn’t how things were supposed to work, not with Lucas. Yes, Lucas had become this thing that you’d been told to fear, but it wasn’t necessarily him. You blinked, looking at Jongin, then at Taemin. You realized that Taemin and Jongin were staring at each other awkwardly, before looking at Lucas again. Despite your sleepy state, you knew your anxiety wouldn’t let you rest. And to be frank, you didn’t want to be alone after what had happened. “I could wait for you here, Xuxi, and then we could head back home together—”
“I can drop him off at your place!” Taemin said, an awkward smile plastered on his face. “It’s no problem, you should head on home…” You furrowed your eyebrows, before nodding slowly at having your actions countered.
“Huh,” You answered slowly, remembering all of the times Taemin had gotten pissy about giving you and Lucas a ride home (gas money, he complained), even though his apartment wasn’t that far from yours, “Okay…? I’ll head home in a little bit. You guys be careful.”
Lucas nodded, face not changing. He was upset, you could tell, but he was completely justified, given everything that he’d been through. You didn’t appreciate him taking it out on everyone around him, though. 
“Yukhei, let’s go.” Taemin seemed all too eager to drag Lucas away, and you watched, bewildered at the strange shift in energy between the three men. You’d known Jongin and Taemin since your freshman year of college, and Lucas since junior year of high school. Never had you seen the three of them act like this.
You turned to Jongin once you heard the front door close. He was shifting back and forth awkwardly. “That was… weird.”
“Well,” He said, scratching at the back of his neck, “This whole morning has been a bit weird, don’t you think?”
You gave a sardonic smile, trying to figure out how to explain your thoughts. “I mean, yeah, but… I don’t know. Regardless of that, everything just seemed off between the three of you.”
Jongin’s eyes met yours. He looked a bit taken aback.
“You can’t be serious.”
You shook your head. “What?”
Jongin’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh my god,” He muttered, more to himself, “You really don’t know.”
“Jongin, what?”
“Yukhei likes you,” Jongin confessed, rubbing at his chin, “He has for years.”
Your ears shoot straight up, eyes widening. Immediately your face heated up, and your free hand shot upwards, waving them back and forth.
"What? Huh? No. No, no, no. We’re just—" 
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” He countered, “You’re friends. But he wants to be more. He’s told me so, several times.”
When you didn’t answer, he walked around you to sit on his bed. He sighed, looking upwards as he gathered his thoughts, trying to figure out what to say. 
“Y/N, you’re smart. And you’re an independent person, and you value that because of how some people still treat hybrids. Especially prey hybrids. I know that. You know  that. Yukhei knows that. But…” He sighed again, shaking his head.
“You don’t see the way he looks at you when you’re not looking. He… he looks at you like you’re the only person in the world, or like you invented pizza, or something. And right now, his behavior…”
He groaned in exasperation, and you raised an eyebrow. “What?”  
“I don’t know how to put it other way than territorial,” He grumbled with a frown, “The way he was acting was like that look, but more aimed at me. Like, she’s the only one I see, don’t look at her the way I do. And I’m no expert on hybrid behavior, but…”
You didn’t know what to think, but you completed his thought anyway. 
“...You think Lucas was acting possessive.”
“I don’t think, I know,” He said, “He seemed really standoffish, and you should be careful. Not because he’s dangerous—this is Yukhei we’re talking about—but because it might strain your friendship.”
You remained silent for a few seconds, absorbing everything he’d told you. 
You didn’t want to believe him. 
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You went home not much later, trying to process everything you’d seen and heard that morning in the silence of the car as you drove through traffic, still pantsless. You didn’t feel comfortable accepting Jongin’s pants after everything he’d pointed out in Lucas’s behavior.
Lucas, your mind continued to think, Lucas, Lucas, Lucas, Lucas.
You’d known Lucas for so long at this point, he’d always just been your best friend. You’d never really wanted anything else from him.
You knew people had been expecting the two of you to get together for years. Your friends had told you, your family had told you, and now, his friends had told you that there was something going on between you and him. And every time, you’d been adamant to deny it. No, he’s like my brother. No, he’s my best friend. No, I don’t see him that way. No, he’s seeing someone. No, I don’t have time for a relationship, anyway. 
Lucas was attractive, you knew that. You had eyes. You had ears. Regardless of his looks, he was effortlessly charming and funny, and that would make anyone attractive. You saw how people swooned and fawned over him, despite him rarely being interested. But he’d always just been your best friend, the one who supported you through everything and made you laugh on your darkest days. And from living with him for the past few years, you considered it a bit awkward to be attracted to someone after seeing them scratch their ass as nonchalantly as possible in front of you as he had. 
That was until this morning, when he’d spoken using that tone of voice. You still weren’t sure how to feel about that. It gave you the chills, but... not in the way you’d expected. Something instinctual had begged you to submit to him. That didn’t usually happen to you when you heard other hybrids used that tone. Usually, you would feel a small tug in your gut, maybe a small flutter of anxiousness, but most of the time all it achieved was a roll of your eyes. But not with him. Not with Lucas.
You thought about it the entire way home. You thought about it on the way up to your apartment. You thought about it as you crawled into your bed, closed your eyes, and finally allowed your mind to be at peace once more. You slept until noon, then made yourself some lunch, showered, and worked on a few assignments you had for your classes.
Lucas came home several hours later, just before 7 PM. He no longer seemed as tense as this morning, but tired, instead. You didn’t blame him. His eyes had faded back to their warm, welcoming shade of brown, which didn’t surprise you. Wolf hybrids’ eyes tended to glow like that whenever they were on edge about something.
“How are you doing?” You asked, as he sat down on the couch. “Is everything alright?”
Slowly, you sat down next to him, wondering if he’d still be snappy as he had this morning. His neck turned to look down at you, and with a deep sigh, he nodded. 
“Medically, I’m sound. They still need to run a few tests, to see if this is something permanent, or not. I’ve been ordered to stop taking the pills, for now.”
You nodded, giving him a small smile out of relief. 
“Thank god,” You murmured, “I was worried about that. But how are you doing?”
He swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing as he did so. He shrugged, pursing his lips. His body shifted towards you, and before you knew it, he’d tackled you into a hug, burying his face into your neck. He seemed to be holding back tears again, and your eyes fluttered shut as he spoke again. “Honestly? I don’t know,” He said, voice small and muffled against your skin, “Things like this are so… different. I found out several things have changed basically overnight.”
“Like what?” Your arms came to wrap around him, trying to calm him down.
“Fuck, I don’t even know. Like, I can smell so much more, now. I can see in the dark, apparently? I can hear so much, Y/N. I’ve been poked and prodded all day and no one knows if this is gonna go away and I’m just… I’m scared.”
He shook his head, shifting to bury his head again, but this time into the other side of your neck. Your hand began to comb through his hair, trying to avoid touching the furry ears that now resided atop his head.
You shook your head, humming. You rested your chin against his shoulder, nuzzling into his form, and his large hands rose to your waist, arms wrapping around it. You looked down when you saw vague movement from below your gaze, and smiled to yourself when you saw Yukhei's tale wagging with contentment. 
“Everything will work out fine, Yukhei,” You whispered, “What matters now is that you’re safe, you’re healthy. You’re so strong, Xuxi. Whatever life throws at you, even if it knocks you down, you always get up with that big smile of yours and keep going.”
He nodded against your neck, cuddling even closer to you. “Thank you,” He answered, before pulling his head away. His eyebrows were furrowed, dark eyes peering into yours from above you. 
“This morning,” He mumbled, “When you were in Jongin hyung’s room. I said something. And I don’t know what it was but it felt…” 
You forced your face to remain blank and expressionless, and broke eye contact, trying to gather your words. God, you didn’t know what to tell him. “Oh… Yeah. That’s sort of a, uh, special tone more dominant predator hybrids use. I don’t really know how to explain it. I’m sure there’s some scientific term, but uh… yeah.”
“Oh.” He pulled away from you slowly, resting against the couch. You nodded awkwardly. 
“I don’t hate you,” You said suddenly. “This morning, in the bathroom, you didn’t want to let me look at you because you thought I’d hate you… I don’t. I could never.”
He smiled, but didn’t meet your eyes. “We don’t have to make this awkward, do we? I don’t feel any different just because of… this. You’re still my best friend, Y/N.”
You nodded, smiling. “Why should it be awkward? I don't think this will change anything, Xuxi.”
Finally, he looked at you, and your eyes found his. His smile grew, and yours did as well. 
“I’m gonna go to bed,” He said moments later, as his hand rose to rub at his neck, “I’m insanely tired.”
“Good night, Xuxi,” You told him as he stood.
 “Good night, bunny.”
When he walked into his room without another word, you watched as he did so, closing the door to his room, right across the hall from yours. You rubbed at a kink in your neck, inhaling deeply as you did so. 
A few moments later, you stopped, eyebrows furrowing. You frowned, ears perking up ever so slightly as something gained your attention. You sniffled once, twice, three times.
Usually, you couldn’t perceive your own hybrid scent unless you consciously thought of it, kind of like when a person thinks of breathing and starts doing it manually rather than automatically. But now, you couldn’t do it. 
Instead, only the scent that you’d registered this morning as Lucas’s remained in its place. Your breath hitched as you realized that Lucas, in hugging you and burying his face in your neck, had scented you. 
There’s no way he did that on purpose… right?
Did Lucas even know about scenting? Was he even aware that it was a courting gesture between hybrids, and a way to tell other hybrids to back off?
Your mind drifted back to what Jongin had said this morning, and you sighed as you once again contemplated the situation. Within a day, both your life and Lucas’s had made a turn for the stranger, and no one knew whether this would be permanent or not.
Shaking your head to yourself, you stood, making your way to your room. This is only awkward if I make it awkward. Lucas doesn’t know hybrid behavior very well because up until this morning, he wasn’t one. Y/N L/N, you’re not going to make this awkward. This isn’t about you being ‘uncomfortable’, this is about Lucas’s wellbeing. You’re not going to make this awkward, you’re not going to make this awkward!
When you reached your door, you took one last glance at Lucas’s door, deciding that you would do your best to help him, for his sake.  
It couldn’t get that awkward, right? Especially not if you tried your best to make it as such. The both of you could continue living as if nothing had changed, right?
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Wrong. 
The next few days, it was almost as if the conversation you’d had that night had never happened, but not for your lack of trying. The next morning when you emerged from your bedroom, you found that Lucas was already gone, probably off to class. You shrugged it off, but still found it kind of strange.
When you got home from your classes and studying at the library, he was in the kitchen, eating a sandwich, and you greeted him, and he answered with a vague “hello”, not really paying you much attention. You thought it was strange, but chalked it up to him probably being tired. 
Then it happened the next day, and the day after that, and the next day, and the next, and the next. And almost overnight, you had no idea who this person who had replaced your best friend was. You felt hurt, trying your best to speak to him when you returned to your apartment. He wouldn’t budge, and you’d back off before you pissed him off too much. 
He didn’t look at you the same way he once did. It was like all of the warmth and happiness from his eyes had been sucked out of them, leaving a winter that rivaled the north pole. You couldn’t recall the last time he’d laughed around you.
You missed Lucas. You really did, and the worst thing was that you couldn’t tell if he felt the same thing. You didn’t want to confront him, telling yourself he was going through a tough time. You could tell it frustrated him, having this new tail twitch and to knock something over, the augmented senses distorting and amplifying everything around him. 
He confessed about three weeks, in a clipped tone, that Taemin couldn’t be sure if it was permanent or not. Nothing like this had ever happened to anyone before. There was no way test designed for this situation, and Taemin would have to design a safe way to test it. Which meant time, money, and patience. Two of which, those being money and patience, Lucas had never had much of. 
“Oh, Xuxi,” You’d sighed when he told him, “I’m so sorry.”
“You don’t have to be.” He set down the textbook he’d been holding onto the table. “You didn’t do it.”
You stepped forward, and he stepped back, almost immediately as you had. You frowned. “Please don’t do that,” You mumbled, now kind of angry. 
“Do what,” He sighed, as if the conversation was exhausting.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know.” You were glaring at him now. “You’ve been avoiding me like the goddamn plague.”
“And what if I am?” He asked, turning to face you. The ears on his head twitched restlessly, and his eyes were burning with what seemed to be contempt. “What if I can’t stand to be around you anymore?”
Your eyes widened, taken aback. After weeks of him not giving you the time of day, for him to say that was too much for you to take sitting down. You scoffed angrily, tapping your foot anxiously. “Excuse me? Where is this coming from?”
He stood up straight, and somewhere in your mind, a little alarm went off in your head at the sheer size of him. He always slouched, just a little. To see him like this, especially now that he’d grown so much, was jarring.
“You heard me,” He said in a tone you could only describe as threatening, taking a step towards you, and this time, you took a step back. “I can't stand being around you anymore. I can’t stand your face, or your voice, or your scent, or your voice. You get on my nerves, and sometimes I swear, I just wanna...”
He didn’t finish.
You shook your head, laughing humorlessly, despite the fact that your heart was cracking with every passing second. You didn’t know this person. Sadness and anger swirled in your chest, creating a mixture that made you grit your teeth. 
You weren’t backing down from this, not after giving him space to himself only to turn around and tell you this. You took a step forward, crossing your arms. “Um, why? What did I ever do or say?” 
He didn’t answer, fully scowling now. His eyes studied your face, but after a few moments, it dropped lower. You realized almost immediately he was looking at your neck. You swallowed nervously, forcing yourself to not look away when he met your eyes again. 
Still, no answer, and you groaned, causing him to snap out of his strange reverie. “Fine. Don’t fucking tell me. See if I care, Yukhei.”
You stepped away from him one last time, walking towards your room. 
“I don’t owe you a fucking explanation, you know! I don’t owe you shit!” He yelled, and you jumped at his sudden burst of anger. You turned, incredulous. Even he seemed to be shocked by the volume of his voice, wolf ears pressed against his head, like a puppy who’d just gotten chastised.
“And I don’t need you yelling at me! Just because you hate me doesn’t give you the right to treat me like shit!” You answered desperately, just as loud. You hated the way that your voice cracked towards the end of your tirade, eyes welling with tears and throat closing up. You blinked the tears back furiously, taking one final look at the increasingly sad look on his face before slamming your bedroom door behind you. 
Finally alone, you took a few deep breaths, trying to think over what had just happened. 
You’d known Yukhei for years. Never once had he raised his voice at you or anyone else. And here he’d just exploded at you, telling you that he couldn’t stand you or the things that made you, well, you.
You sat on your bed, body numb, as the tears began to flow freely. But you couldn’t bring yourself to make noise. You couldn’t bring yourself to curl up sob into your pillow . You knew that he would most likely be able to hear you if you did, and you didn’t want to give him that satisfaction. 
Instead, you laid back, trying your hardest to control your breathing, and fell asleep like that, with the tears falling into your hair, eyeliner and mascara streaking along your skin, feeling utterly destroyed.
After that, you felt yourself giving him an even wider berth than before. You didn’t speak to him unless you absolutely needed to, like when you couldn’t reach the sugar that had suspiciously ended up on the highest shelf, (even though you were the only one to use it) and needed him to hand it to you.
If you walked into the living room and he also happened to be in there, you two would meet eyes briefly, before you walked away. His gaze was never cold, but rather emotionless. Indifferent, bordering on unreadable. It still hurt to see. The only thing that could describe the mood of the apartment was tense. You quickly learned to hate living in such a suffocating environment.
The only "good" thing was that finals were right around the corner, so you were able to distract yourself from the whole situation and pour all of your concentration into studying into the wee hours of the morning. 
But that only lasted for so long.
Taemin had mentioned a heightened libido as a side effect of the treatment. As far as you could tell, Yukhei didn't give off any signs of that. It didn’t even make sense, considering he’d stopped taking the pills ever since the mutation had occurred.
However, for some reason, the universe decided that it wanted to cause you trouble on purpose. 
You came home one day to strange noises coming from Yukhei's bedroom. And when you got closer, it didn't take much for you to realize what was going on between him and whoever he'd brought home. Deep groans, high pitched moaning, and the undeniable sound of skin slapping against skin. Even worse, the smell. It smelled like sex, and sweat, and Yukhei. 
Maybe if you'd been human, you wouldn't have smelled it. But alas, you weren't, and so your heightened sense of smell painted a picture you didn't want to see. Of Yukhei and some stranger, him on top of her, fucking brutally into her.
"Yes, fuck, right there!" 
You damn near jumped out of your skin, then immediately cringing because… well. How could you describe the nasty feeling building suddenly in the pit of your stomach? It wasn't disgust. It wasn't… no. It couldn't be jealousy. Could it have been a mix of the two? 
You couldn't be sure.
And that was only the first time it'd happened. Soon enough, it was happening two or three times a week.
You suddenly started spending more time away from the apartment. Be it at the library, at the café right off campus, at your best friend Mark's apartment. 
But at night, you were on your own, having to listen to Yukhei plow a seemingly endless array of girls into his mattress while you were either studying or trying to sleep. 
Your girlfriends still lived at the college dorms, and there wouldn't be enough space for you there. You didn't want to impose on Mark, since you were already spending most of your day with him and he shared his apartment with four other guys. You certainly didn't want to ask to sleep over at Taemin's, not after what Jongin had told you.
You were more or less trapped in your apartment past nine PM. You wondered if this was how Fiona felt in the first Shrek film when she couldn't go outside at night.
Yukhei was loud, you came to learn. He groaned, he grunted, he growled. He had a filthy vocabulary and, if you were to go by what the girl he'd brought home past Thursday said, leaving out all the gory details, he was very… well endowed. 
You still weren't quite sure how to feel about constantly having to hear him from across the hall. You weren't judging him, not at all. It was none of your business, and as he'd so rudely put it, he didn't owe you an explanation.
But with exams rolling around, and stress starting to build up, you were disappointed, but not surprised to realize that your sexual frustration was doing the same. And Yukhei, with his pretty face, broad shoulders, foul mouth and maddening scent, was not doing you any favors by practically acting out porn across the hallway. 
Even worse? Mating season was approaching. 
The actual duration of heats and ruts for all hybrids varied, but a grand majority of hybrids went through them during the first few weeks of winter, regardless of whether they were predators or prey. 
So while it pained you to say it, Yukhei’s across the hall antics were not doing you any favors. You found yourself lying awake on a Saturday at one in the morning, after a particularly rough Friday. Meanwhile he was with yet another girl, listening to him dirty talk her to high heaven. You had your eyes closed, trying to sleep in the dark of your bedroom, but it wasn’t easy given what was going on.
If you hadn’t been in a sleep deprived delirium, you wouldn’t have allowed your mind to drift to Yukhei, or to focus on the vulgar words he was saying. His words were muffled by the walls, but it was still pretty easy for you to hear them, ears perking up as you did.
“Yeah, baby, you love my cock, don’t you?”
If you hadn’t been so tired, you would have put in some headphones and listened to some soft music until you were able to fall asleep, instead of letting your breath hitch while your sleepy mind conjured an image of a sweaty Yukhei on top of you, doing to you what he’d been doing to the entire campus.
“So fucking tight around me…”
And you definitely wouldn’t have stuck your hand down your pants, with one hand, covering your mouth with the other. But you did, imagining that it was Yukhei’s fingers and not yours pinching at your clit, teasing around your slit, feeling yourself get wet with every passing second. Hard to do, considering Yukhei’s fingers were so much longer than yours were, and you clenched around nothing at the thought of his pretty hands and how deep they could reach inside of you.
You opened your legs a little more, eyes fluttering shut as your index finger delved inside of you, stifling a quiet moan. Even in your sleepy haze your mind told you not to be too loud, because you knew that Yukhei could end up hearing it, and you didn’t want to seem like a creep after everything that had already happened. Slowly, you built up to a speed that you felt went well with the sound of skin against skin.
“Fuck, baby, you gonna come soon? I’m so close...”
Your breathing turned heavy, and suddenly the sheets were too hot, kicking them off of you before adding in a second finger, relishing in the stretch and the way your palm rubbed against your clit in a deliciously frustrating way. You hesitated briefly before adding a third finger, searching desperately for a spot that would cause you to see stars before they cramped up too bad.
When you did manage to find it, your body curled in on itself, biting down on your lip to stop yourself from making any noise. So embarrassingly fast, you felt yourself nearing climax, listening as the moans and groans escalated in pitch and in volume. You pulled your other hand away from your mouth to rub at your clit, and your eyebrows furrowed, mouth tipping open in silent moans. You prayed to whatever cosmic force that ruled over the universe in hopes that you wouldn’t make too much noise.
“Shit, shit, I’m c-coming, baby…” You heard him say, before switching to Cantonese to swear, and with that, your orgasm came crashing against you.
Your toes curled, your eyes squeezed shut, and before you could bury your head in your pillow, you squeaked out the softest possible whine, “Yukhei…”
When you came back down, you were quick to fall asleep, ignoring the stickiness in your panties or the smell of sweat permeating your room, too tired to bring yourself to care. 
You didn’t hear the shuffling of feet as Yukhei kicked this girl out of the apartment, too on edge after having heard your whimpering.
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After that, Yukhei didn’t bring home any other girls, and you brushed it off as him needing to concentrate for finals. The coming weeks were filled with all nighters, cups of coffee, tears and desperation as you somehow managed to pass all of your classes.
 You and Yukhei continued to practically tiptoe around each other, still not speaking. Now, however, it was more due to a lack of time than anger geared towards each other. Yes, you could still sense animosity when you crossed paths but it was getting… strange. While he almost never spoke, Yukhei’s wide eyes seemed to follow you whenever you passed him.
Now, the apartment had turned silent, rather than tense. You felt like you should anticipate something but you weren’t sure what. Many times, you could feel Yukhei before you saw him, and while before, at the apartment he tended to avoid you like a criminal dodging the law, now you always felt him close, his scent never far from where you were. On campus, you didn’t have that problem, rarely seeing him due to your different majors. But at home, it seemed like you could rarely hide from him. 
Finally, winter break was so close to rolling around, and all you needed to do was take two more exams, and hand in one final paper. Then you were free, and all you needed to do was call up your… friend, Doyoung.
You used the term “friend” very, very loosely. 
Doyoung was the only other rabbit hybrid you trusted enough to spend your heats with, and you really only spoke to him during this time of year. He was kind and soft spoken, and attentive to your needs when you were in heat despite him also being affected by his own rut. He was also insanely good in bed, and not too bad on the eyes either.
He enjoyed your arrangement, and wasn’t looking for anything serious, which you appreciated. This would have been your third heat spent with him.
You called him a week before your heat was due to start, and he swung by your apartment for a quick visit to discuss where you would go, how long your doctor had told you it would last, and generally to just catch up with each other.
Yukhei was out, probably studying with Mark or something. All you knew was that he was out. 
Doyoung was cute. Really cute. His ears, white with black tips were generally stood at attention. His broad shoulders and gummy smile were too much, and even though it was a week before your heat was supposed to start you kind of had to resist jumping his bones when you let him inside. 
You managed, somehow, and he sat down next to you at your small dinner table. 
“So, how’s Lucas?” He asked once all of the details were worked out. You were going to stay at his apartment for the following week.
You pursed your lips, sighing. “He’s, uh… It’s complicated.”
He shook his head, a nervous smile gracing his face.
“What do you mean it’s complicated?”
You shrugged, letting your eyes flutter shut. “It’s a long story.”
“So? Tell it,” He said, ears twitching, “I’ve got all day.”
So you did. From the treatment, to the mutation, to what Jongin had said, to the shift in his behavior, to the argument, to him bringing random girls home, even including the bit about you masturbating to him that one time. You didn’t spare the details, given that you’d probably had more sex with Doyoung within the span of both of your heats than you’d ever had with all of your previous partners combined. There was no point in being vague.
You worried you might be airing out you and Yukhei’s dirty laundry, but continued anyway. Doyoung was a good guy. He wasn’t going to blab to anyone about it. During your whole tirade, he remained emotionless, nodding along to show he was still listening to you. When you finished, he took a deep breath, ears falling against his head. He blinked a few times.
“Phew,” He whistled, “That’s… a lot. Sounds like he’s going through a tough time.”
You nodded, staring at your hands on your lap. “I know. I want to help him but I’m scared he’s gonna yell at me again and I don’t want to have to push him away even more. I miss him, Doie. I miss my best friend.”
Doyoung offered a sympathetic smile, patting you on the back. “Can I be honest?” His voice was soft, not demanding. You, always appreciative of his candor, nodded. 
“I don’t think you just miss your best friend, Y/N.”
Your head snapped upward to meet his gaze, sympathetic smile still there as he continued to rub up and down your back, now slower.
“No goddamn way,” You denied vehemently, shaking your head, “I don’t like him.”
“You’re right,” Doyoung answered, “You don’t like Yukhei. You’re in love with him.”
You spluttered, looking away as you felt your face heat up. “Y-you can’t really mean that, Doyoung. He’s like—"
“Yeah, yeah, your brother. You’ve told everyone and their mother that. But has it ever occurred to you that when you say that, it's just you trying to convince yourself? I see the way you look at him when I come to pick you up before your heats and you say goodbye to him. Your eyes just light up, and you smile like you’re the happiest you’ve ever been.”
“Well, because he makes me happy, he’s my—”
“Veggie lover’s pizza makes you happy, and I don’t see you smiling at it like it invented modern wi-fi. Yukhei? Y/N, he makes you happy happy. As in, if you were an actual bunny and not 25% bunny, you would be doing binkies around him.”
You gasped. “I would not—!”
“Would too,” He retorted, laughing slightly at your antics, “I swear, the way you talk about him—"
He would have continued, but was interrupted by the sound of the key clicking the apartment door open. Quickly, both of your heads turned to watch as Yukhei entered the apartment, eyes immediately trained on Doyoung. His expression was unreadable, but at the end of the day, both you and Doyoung, prey hybrids till the bitter end, could smell the tension that permeated his signature scent. You exchanged glances with the black haired man, and noted that his ears were standing at attention, just like yours.
 “Uh, hey, man,” Doyoung said with his iconic awkward smile, adding an awkward wave as well, “...Long time no see.” 
Yukhei remained silent for a moment as he took off his jacket, eyes still not leaving the other man. “Hello, Doyoung hyung. How have you been?” His voice was monotone, no discernible emotion in it, and you felt like you wanted the earth to swallow you then and there.
“Uhh…” Doyoung side-eyed you for the briefest second, your eyes flashing between him and Yukhei incessantly. Suddenly, you were on edge, and you knew that it was all because of the six foot tall nuisance that had just interrupted your moment with Doyoung.
“I’m... good. I was actually just about to, uh, head home,” He mumbled, and you furrowed your eyebrows as you turned to look at him, kind of taken aback. He was already getting off the couch, making sure he had everything.
You raised a tentative hand. “Hey, Doyoung—”
“Like I told you earlier, I need to go, uh… feed Jeno’s cat since he’s still out of town.”
“Uh,” You blinked, gaping like a fish, remembering the fact that you’d bumped into Jeno at the convenience store earlier today, “Take care, I guess?”
And then, quickly as Yukhei had come, Doyoung had gone, eyeing the wolf hybrid like he was about to get strangled.
When it was just the two of you, your eyes turned to look at Yukhei, and you huffed, before getting up and walking to your room. You closed your door, picking up your phone as you sat at your desk. 
doyoungie: your roommate is insane 
doyoungie: did you see the way he was looking at me? his scent was also super intimidating, y/n
doyoungie: i cant help you out, i dont feel comfortable given everything going on between the two of u
doyoungie: im really sorry y/n 
doyoungie: please be careful around him
You saw red. You chucked the phone onto your bed, too angry and upset to answer Doyoung in that moment.
Everything going on between you and Yukhei had ruined everything these past months, but this was the icing on the cake. If Doyoung wouldn’t help you, you couldn’t go over to his apartment during your heat. If you couldn’t spend your heat at Doyoung’s apartment, you would have to spend it in the apartment, with Yukhei across the hall. And if Yukhei, a predator hybrid, turned out to go into rut at the same time you, a prey hybrid, went into heat… well. 
It wasn’t even a matter of whether you would end up sleeping with him at one point or not. It was the principle of the thing. Yukhei brought home several girls to fuck and you had turned a blind eye. But god forbid you make plans to fuck someone in your own home. No, no, that was heresy. Highest treason in the land.
You slammed your door open, crossing the hall to stomp into Yukhei’s room. You ripped his door open, seething with anger. He turned in surprise, eyebrows furrowed. “Y/N, what—”
“Fuck you, Wong Yukhei,” You spat, getting straight to the point. He opened his mouth to speak, eyebrows turned downwards as he observed your angry frame. But you didn’t let him. 
“How fucking dare you. I said jack shit when you brought home all of those girls. But no, every single time I get close to another guy you put on a pissy face and puff out your chest and scare them away. What gives you the fucking right?”
He scoffed, then gave a humorless laugh. “It’s not my fault your prey hybrid boy toy can’t handle being looked at for more than five seconds.”
Your mouth fell open, glaring at him. You couldn’t believe the way he’d said the words ‘prey hybrid’ like it was something shameful. “What, do you have a problem with us prey hybrids now, or...?”
“Please,” He growled, “You’re always the one who was so willing to push predator hybrids away.”
“You of all people should know why.”
He took a step towards you, eyes meeting yours before looking at the floor. “Of course I did. And that’s why I pushed you away.”
You stared at him, incredulous at his sudden quietness. “No. Don’t you dare spin this as some little ‘woe is me’ sob story. You ghosted me. You treated me like I was trash. Maybe you didn’t want to worry me with this whole thing, which is more on par with the Lucas I know. But my Lucas, my Xuxi, would never have taken it that far.”
“Did it ever occur to you that your stupid little Xuxi isn’t coming back!?” He yelled suddenly, and your eyes widened at his display of anger. He took notice and took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, and lowered his voice. 
 Y/N, this entire thing,” He huffed, gesturing to his ears and tail, which was now swishing back and forth restlessly, “It changed me too much."
"Yukhei…"
"You think I didn't want to keep being your Xuxi? T-that I didn't want to pretend that everything was normal and keep patting your head and hugging you in the morning and calling you bunny?" 
Your demeanor faltered, and your heart sank. This wasn't how you wanted this conversation to go.
"Yukhei."
He stepped closer, and you swallowed at his sudden proximity. "I feel this… need. Inside of me. Almost all of the time, but it's strongest when you're close to me. And I don't know what it is, but every time I look at you, I want to…"
"Yukhei," you mumbled dizzily as he took another step forward, basically forcing you up against the wall. You could feel his breath on your skin as he peered down at you, eyes melancholy. He looked lonely. You felt lonely.
"I want to… God, let me kiss you."
Your breath left your body, and before you could give it a second thought, you were tilting your head, eyes falling shut as he pressed his lips to yours.
Immediately, you stood on the tips of your toes to meet him easier, and his hands cupped your face before moving to your back, and then finally splaying possessively around your waist. 
The kiss was urgent, desperate; Yukhei kissed you as if he were dying and you felt the need to match his desperation. As your lips locked against each other's, Yukhei's body stepped closer to yours, his torso now pressed against yours. Your arms rose to his broad shoulders, wrapping around his neck, releasing a whimper when he pressed his tongue into your mouth.
Your stomach lurched when he used his thigh to separate yours, hands trailing down to grasp at your thighs. He pulled away from your lips, trailing to your jaw, and you whimpered, hands combing through his hair. Lower his mouth went, planting open mouthed kisses along your neck, and you felt a fire in your stomach, readying you to submit to him.
Submit?
Your eyes shot open, and your heart dropped, and as you realized what he had said, how he had said it, you were pushing him off of you. He stumbled back, chest heaving, eyes scared, lips swollen and pink. He seemed to have realized what he’d done. “Y/N, I didn’t mean t—”
“No.” You couldn’t look him in the eye, clenching your jaw. “I came here to say that I was tired of being treated like your property when all I’ve ever been is your friend. You turned it around and used that tone with me and you used it to kiss me. I-I can’t, Yukhei. Why would you even—”
“Because I’m in love with you.”
Your eyes widened as you met his, and you slumped against the wall, inhaling sharply. You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. He took this as his cue to continue, eyes pleading and apologetic as he leaned against his desk, giving you the space you suddenly needed.
“That’s no excuse, I know that. It’s literally the worst possible excuse I could give you. I don’t know how to control this thing yet and I’m… Y/N, I’m scared that I’ll hurt you with my words or all of this strength I now have combined with instincts I don’t understand and it terrifies me. And now, with this whole mating season thing coming I feel them even stronger and I...”
“Yukhei, you’re not making any sense,” You said, voice barely above a whisper. He looked up, eyes suddenly teary. 
“How can I make my thoughts make sense when you’re the only thing on my mind right now?”
You pursed your lips, eyes squeezing shut. Your stomach swirled and your mind was jumbled, unsure what to tell him. 
“Yukhei, what are your instincts even telling you?” 
He shook his head, expression agitated as he looked you up and down. Finally, his eyes landed on your neck, and he groaned, shoving his face into his hands. 
“I can’t hurt you, Y/N. I would never forgive myself if I did.”
Your breath hitched, heart rate beginning to pick up. “Yukhei, I need you to tell me what is going on with you. Then, we can call Taemin and he—he’ll figure something out.”
“I need to bite you. A-and you need to leave, so I can leave before I do something I regret.”
“Yukhei, hold on a second—”
“Y/N,” He growled, and you felt all of the hairs on your head stand straight up, animal instincts going haywire, “Leave.” 
Even if he hadn’t used that tone with you, you would have done so. And you did, bolting out of his room, quickly grabbing your phone from your room and then darting out of the apartment, out of the building and somewhere onto the street, legs shaking and heart broken.
You ran for several blocks, stopping once you felt comfortable, which just so happened to be in front of a cafe a few minutes from your apartment. You went in and ordered, sitting at a table in the window, staring blankly at the cup in front of you. You felt numb. Yukhei was making absolutely no sense, and your thoughts were too jumbled for you to try and decipher what he was trying to tell you. There was only one thing that you could make sense of.
Because I’m in love with you. 
God, you wanted to slam your head into the table, his words echoing in your head. He’d looked so candid, so vulnerable, so scared saying those six words, that it honestly kind of petrified you. After everything you’d thought about, everything you’d been told, and everything you’d said to each other, you were being forced with the truth, and you honestly weren’t sure if you could handle it.
Yes, you loved Yukhei. But what best friend doesn’t love their best friend? There was such a difference between loving and being in love, but in that moment you couldn’t be sure of any. 
Yukhei had always been there for you. He understood your boundaries, understood that you wanted to be an independent person, but wasn’t afraid to support you if he felt you needed it. Whenever you were sad, or frustrated, he was there. And vice versa. You understood that Yukhei, despite his intimidating looks, muscles and tall frame was just a gentle giant, sometimes not confrontational enough to stand up for himself. And yes, he was confident, but you knew that deep down he would always feel like he wasn’t good enough, just a little bit. And whenever that feeling became too heavy for him to carry, you’d be the one to pick him up and help him carry the weight.
Your mutual understanding of each other went so much more than just finishing each other’s sentences sometimes. With a simple movement, both of you could tell whether the other was upset, or excited, or angry. 
You sighed, taking another sip of your coffee.
Yukhei was kind, and he didn’t worry about what problems he might have in the future. He was funny, sometimes making you laugh till you cried because it was just an innate talent of his. And fuck’s sake, he was hot. And you… you, the worrisome, blunt hybrid who trailed behind him because he lit up your days, you were…
Oh my god. I’m in love with Yukhei.
You spluttered, immediately coughing as you choked on your coffee, attracting the attention of the people around you. It took you awhile, but you eventually managed to catch your breath, avoiding the questioning gazes of everyone around you. You were left with your head spinning, foot tapping anxiously. 
You needed to get back to the apartment.
You paid for the unfinished cup of coffee in a hassle, and ran back up the street as fast as your legs could carry you. You realized that all of the running you’d been doing meant your hair would be frizzy and you would smell like sweat once you got back, but you couldn’t care less.
 All you needed was to see him.
If you’d been able to talk him down from his own thoughts before, like that day in the bathroom and times before that, if you’d been able to get through to him before, it wouldn’t be that hard now, would it? You needed to know he was okay and that he knew that everything would work out in the end. 
You dashed onto your street, mind filled with only Yukhei and his wellbeing, for once being a bit reckless when it came to your own safety. Yes, he’d told you to leave. But that didn’t matter anymore, you thought as you rushed into the building and pulled yourself into the elevator. He was your only concern, now.
Your heart pounded as you stood in the elevator. Your leg never ceased its insistent tapping. Waiting, waiting, waiting for the doors to slide open. It took an eternity, but finally, you heard a ding! And when the doors opened, you bolted. You ran down the hall, reaching your door before you pulled out your key and unlocked the door, not thinking twice before swinging it open.
“Yukhei!?”
Your loud, breathless voice rang out through the apartment, but there was no response. As you caught your breath, you noted that the scent of cinnamon and earth was still there, but faint, as if Yukhei had vanished into thin air. Your heart sank.
“Yukhei?” You asked again, voice now quieter as you realized that he was probably gone. Your face fell, and part of you began to wonder why you even expected him to still be here.  
Walking towards his room, where the trace of his scent was strongest, you gnawed on the inside of your cheek, silently asking yourself where you would go from here. The vibration of your phone caught your attention, and you pulled it out of your pocket to see what the notification was. Your eyes softened at seeing Yukhei’s contact name grace your screen, but your gaze quickly turned gloomy when you saw how long his text was. That was never a good thing.
xuxi: Hey. I’m sorry about everything that just happened, and for scaring you like that. I’m gonna be staying at Taemin hyung’s until your heat passes. I don’t know how long that is, but I know it was supposed to start sometime next week? I want to keep distance from you until either hyung or I can understand what’s going on with me, and I don’t want to do or say anything that’s gonna damage our friendship. Please don’t worry about me, Y/N. I’m fine. Don’t think that I think you can’t be around other guys, because I don’t. I want you to be happy. And if you feel like you never want to see me once this is all over, then I’ll totally understand. I’ve been an asshole and I treated you horribly because I was acting selfishly. Take care.
You slumped against the wall, swallowing the growing lump in your throat. 
How on earth did everything get this messed up?
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The last few days before winter break were miserable. You spent the rest of that night after the argument with Yukhei crying out of frustration at the situation, falling asleep with puffy eyes and a runny nose. Eventually, however, you had to force yourself out of your pity party, because despite everything going on, you still had two exams to study for and a paper to turn in. 
Your paper was going to turn out mediocre, at best. You simply couldn’t put your heart into it despite the fact that it was 10% of your final grade for the semester. Thankfully, it was due Friday, and the first exam was on Monday and the other on Tuesday, leaving you a full three days to finish it, and you’d done pretty well in the subject all semester, so if you flubbed the paper, it wouldn’t be so bad. 
As for your exams, they weren’t your best, but you’d live. Exams this late were always hellish for you, because on top of all of the stress, your pre-heat symptoms were starting to set in. You felt tired, sluggish, and irritable. 
You thought of Yukhei almost all week during what little free time you got. You didn't see him on campus all week, but you knew from texting Taemin that he was still going. According to him, he wasn’t talking to anyone much. Not even Baekhyun could cheer him up, and Yukhei loved Baekhyun’s jokes.
You never responded to the long text Yukhei had sent you. You weren’t sure what to say, and after a certain amount of days had passed it just felt awkward to try and respond to him. 
Finally, Friday rolled around, and you strolled onto campus, ready to hand in your paper, go to your last few lectures, and then buy yourself some snacks to prepare to hole up in your apartment for a week during your heat. You wished you could just turn it in online, but this professor was probably as old as the university itself, and still preferred doing things the old fashioned way.
You sat down next to Mark right before your history lecture, about two hours before your paper was supposed to be turned in. 
“Hey, how have you been?” Mark asked, and you shrugged. 
“I’m pretty much over everything,” You sighed, “All I need is to turn in my paper to Wang and I’m out of here.”
“Can I see?” He asked. “Mine sucks and I wanted to compare.”
“Oh, yeah, sure,” You answered, turning to open your bag. You rummaged through it, looking between your notes, laptop, and old pieces of paper, before frowning. 
“No fucking way,” You muttered to yourself, looking through the contents of your bag again, now more frantic. 
“What? Do you not have it?”
“No,” You answered, turning to him, sounding desperate. “I think I left it on my desk this morning. God, I’m so stupid.”
“Why don’t you just go get it?” Mark said, tilting his head. “Your place isn’t that far.”
You eyed the professor, who was preparing his presentation before the class started, weighing your options.
“...You’re right. I’ll be back in like, half an hour.”
And so you set off, power walking back to your apartment, which was right off campus. When you got to your building, you stepped into the elevator and heard your phone ring. You looked at who was calling first, furrowing your eyebrows. Hesitantly, you picked up.
“Taem? What’s up?” You asked, looking through your bag for your keys.
“Hey, Y/N.” Taemin sounded anxious, and it didn’t do anything to dissipate your confusion. “I just wanted to let you know that Yukhei said he would be passing by the apartment to get some more clothes, but uh… I forgot to ask him what time, and now he isn’t answering my texts or my calls. He was acting kind of… weird this morning. He didn’t say anything to you, did he?”
You blinked, swallowing at the idea of seeing him again after not having said anything to each other. Suddenly, your heart seemed to be beating a lot faster than it had been a second ago. “Um. No. He didn’t. But um… thanks for letting me know. I’ll just be going—” 
“Wait, Y/N!”
“Taemin, what?”
“Have you ever heard of Tanaka’s Theory of Hybrid Compatibility?” He blurted, and you made a face, trying to figure out what he was talking about.
“...No?”
The elevator dinged, and you stepped out as he began to explain. 
“I was doing research after running some DNA tests on Yukhei, yesterday, to see if I would be able to gauge whether he’d be going into rut or not. This theory says that two hybrids of different animal types could trigger each other’s mating instincts—”
“Wait, wait, wait, I thought that wasn’t possible—”
“That’s what a lot of people thought, until Tanaka and her team published this study about a year ago. She did an experiment where she paired up hybrids of different animal types, and induced heat in only one of them, to see if it triggered rut or heat in the other hybrid. She concluded that it was possible, but only if the hybrids had already formed a deep emotional bond. Y/N, you and Yukhei…”
You stopped right outside of your apartment, dead in your tracks. “D—Taem. Do you think that could happen if…?”
You didn’t finish, and Taemin sighed. “Yeah,” He said, voice quiet. “I think he might be in the very early stages of rut. Please, please be careful, Y/N.”
You stared at the door, before sighing. “I will, Taemin. Thank you for calling me.”
You hung up, trying to absorb everything you’d just been told. Cautiously, you inserted the key into the lock, trying to be quiet. A chill rolled through your body as you stepped into the apartment. For some reason, it seemed so much more quiet than it usually was. You gulped. Hurriedly, with quiet footsteps, you approached your bedroom. You sighed in relief upon seeing the paper on your desk, and grabbed it, stuffing it carefully into your bag before turning to exit. 
“Hey.”
You shrieked in surprise, your skeleton nearly jumping out of your skin when you saw Yukhei in the doorway of his bedroom, staring intently at you. Immediately, you knew something was wrong. His eyes were wide like saucers, eyeing you up and down. His body seemed tense. His scent was overpowering. You scrunched your nose once it hit you.
“Y-Yukhei. What are you—Um, how have you been?”
“Oh, I’m fine,” He said, wide eyes never leaving you. You felt like he was studying you, and you squirmed underneath his gaze, “Just peachy. A little hot. What are you doing here?”
His sentences were quick and snippy, as if he were jumpy. You spluttered, gathering your thoughts.
“Oh,” You mumbled, “Um… I forgot my paper on my desk. I needed to come and get it.”
 The entire time, you never stopped looking at him. He seemed poised, ready to strike, looking for the moment he could catch you off guard. You swallowed, trying to step past him, “I need to turn this in later, so I’ll just…”
He grabbed your wrist before you could get out of his arms’ reach, cornering you against the wall. 
“I need to… talk to you,” He muttered, eyes trained on your face.
“Yukhei, you’re kind of freaking me out,” You answered, looking away from his face. Your own face was suddenly hot, animal instincts were screaming at his proximity, at his scent, begging you to either get away or pull him closer. Danger, one side of your brain whispered, while the other said, want.
“Just hear me out,” He answered, deep voice quiet and raspy. “I missed you this week. Missed my bunny.”
You looked away, unsure what to do. 
dangerdangerdangerdangerdanger
He lifted a hand to lift your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. You gasped, realizing that his eyes were a bright yellow. Had they always been that color or was it only now noticeable due to his proximity?
wantwantwantwantwantwant
“Y-Yukhei,” You mumbled again, panting as he brushed his lips against yours.
DANGERDANGERDANGERDANGER
In that moment, your animal instincts took over. What happened next happened in less than ten seconds, but felt like an eternity.
See, when rabbits feel threatened, they bite their attacker. You knew this. Yukhei knew this. So it should’ve been no surprise to either of you when you shifted your neck, quickly striking and giving his neck a harsh bite. Your animal instincts expected him to back off. But instead, he groaned loudly, pressing you even further into the wall, gripping your hips and pressing himself against you. You froze, feeling something hard press against your hip. 
“So you want to bite me too,” He growled, “But I want to bite you harder.”
WANTWANTWANTWANTWANT
You whimpered, as he, agonizingly slowly, pressed his mouth to your neck, baring his teeth. He tugged your head to the side, and you squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for the bite to come, almost welcoming it. 
But it never did. 
Instead, when you opened your eyes, you saw that Yukhei was trembling. 
“I can’t,” He whispered, “I don’t want to hurt you.”
You swallowed, realizing what was going on. 
“You won’t,” You answered, matching the tone of his voice. “Xuxi, wolves bite like this to mate, not to attack.”
“Huh?” His amber eyes studied your face, searching for anything other than the uncertainty etched upon it. 
“You’re not biting me to hurt me,” You said, stroking his cheek, “It’s because you wanna mark me as yours.”
“But you’re not mine,” He murmured, still trembling, “You don’t love me the way I love you.” 
You shook your head, head spinning as the heat on your face spread across your body at the sensation of his body against yours.
“Except I do.” Your voice was hoarse. “I love you, Lucas. I realize that now.”
You tilted your head back, revealing the expanse of your neck. He growled in approval as you did. “And I want to be yours, forever.”
He didn’t mark you then. Instead, he craned his neck to catch your lips with his. You cried out softly when he did, his hands coming down to lift one of your legs, wrapping it around his hip. 
“Jump,” He said into the kiss, and you did, without question. The feeling of uneasiness, of danger, melted away, leaving you only with want. He dragged you back to his room, tossing you onto his bed with ease. 
You whimpered as you let him go, now fully aware that you’d entered your heat, and you wouldn’t be satiated until he made you cum. You watched, as he stared down at you with a predatory gaze—go figure—pulling off the t-shirt he was wearing. He crawled on top of you, not saying a word before he kissed you again. 
Your hands roamed, tracing down his back and up your sides as he squeezed your thighs with his large hands, sliding up the skirt you were wearing. 
“Please don’t tease,” You whined between kisses, “N-need you.”
“My bunny needs me?” He asked, chest rumbling with pride, and you nodded. He tugged off your shirt, leaving you in only your bra and your skirt. He pressed a kiss to your neck, before inhaling deeply and groaning. 
“God, is this what you smell like when you’re in heat?” His voice was raspy, lustful; you felt punch drunk at the sound of it. “You smell fucking divine.” You nodded, reaching for the button on his jeans. You didn’t trust your voice.
“Bunny, you’re on the pill, right?” He asked suddenly, sounding a lot more sober than he had just a few seconds ago. Your eyes darted up to his face, noting his ears twitching nervously. You nodded. “Y-yeah, why?”
He pressed a kiss to your temple, before lowering his mouth to your ear. “Because as much as I want to pump you full of my pups right now, I know you probably don’t want that for us now.”
God, he was the human definition of whiplash. You straight up moaned at the idea, eyes squeezing shut as you pulled his pants down. “S-sounds good on paper. R-really good,” You declared, “But in practice… Not right now.”
He nodded, smiling softly. You realized he was wagging his tail, and you smiled gleefully. “Anything for my bunny.” 
Yukhei pressed another kiss to your temple, before pulling your skirt down, hands kneading at your newly exposed flesh. You lifted yourself off of the mattress to press wet kisses to his collarbone, ignoring the desperation beneath your skin. Still, your mind screamed.
WANTWANTWANTWANTWANTWANTWANT
“Xuxi,” You said, “Please hurry and fuck me already.”
“I don’t wanna wait either,” He admitted, grinning wolfishly. With not another word, he pulled your panties to the side, and slowly pressed a finger inside. 
Your breath hitched, feeling like when you scratch at an itch, but can’t find the exact spot. Content, but not yet satisfied. 
“You’re so wet,” He mumbled, “All of this is for me, right, Y/N?”
You nodded insistently, legs spreading further to allow him enough space. He was so big, nearly engulfing you as he hovered over you. And his fingers were so long, reaching far further than your fingers could when you pretended yours were his. 
“Lucas…” Your voice was high, breathless, “More, please.”
"So needy for me, hm?" Yukhei chuckled darkly, adding another finger. His smile grew when you tightened around him. "Tell me what you want, bunny." 
"Fuck," You groaned, "I want you to fuck me and make me yours. W-want to be stuffed and filled with your cum. Want y-your pups, wanna be yours."
His amber eyes glowed in admiration, peering down at you. "Fuck, that's a good girl." 
He tugged off your bra, but got a little too impatient when he got to your panties, and you gasped in surprise when you felt the seams snap. Your eyes darted to Lucas's hands, which were now holding the broken fabric with a smug look on his face.
"Oops."
You huffed, not caring about the underwear. Lifting yourself off of the mattress, you pulled him in for a kiss, and he responded with fervor. His tongue dipped into your mouth, swallowing your eager moans. In your eagerness, you reached into his underwear, wrapping your hand around his member. 
You gasped into the kiss, feeling how hard he was. Even without looking, eyes still shut as you focused mostly on kissing him, you could feel he was big. You wondered, momentarily, if he would even fit. Yukhei pulled away from you, lowering his eyes to watch your hand stroking him. You did as well, swallowing at the sight. He wasn’t too thick, but he was incredibly long. The tip was a pretty shade of red, precum leaking steadily out.
“You want me to fuck you?” He asked, mouth brushing against yours, panting slightly.
You nodded, canting your hips in an attempt to entice him. He pulled his fingers out of your pussy, brushing against your clit intentionally. You keened, looking up at him. 
“Yeah, baby,” You answered, pushing him away slightly, to turn around, and prop yourself onto your knees. He groaned at the sight of your wetness, one finger teasing at your hole. He came closer to you, and his free hand pulled you up. His chest was pressed against your back. He pressed a kiss to one of your shoulder blades, resting his head on his shoulder to speak to you.  
“One day, I’m gonna sit you down on my face and eat you until you forget your name. But right now, I can’t hold back anymore. Need to be inside of you.”
You nodded in agreement, bated as he gripped one of your hips, the other nudging you gently between the shoulder blades, so your face was buried between the pillows. You inhaled, whining lightly at how much it smelled like him, like Yukhei. 
“All mine,” He growled, sliding inside of you. He was met with no resistance, your walls sucking him in with no protest.
“Yours,” You agreed, rocking your hips lightly against his. He groaned loudly, gripping your hips tightly. 
“S-so tight,” He groaned, with a little laugh, “I can barely move.”
“Please, Xuxi,” You whined, voice muffled, “N-need it.”
His grip tightened, and he gave a hard thrust, to which you responded with a loud noise. He immediately set a brutal pace. He bent over, practically covering your body with his own. You could feel the heat radiating off of his body, his grunts and growls right into your ear.
Your hand reached behind you, trying to grab him in some way. He registered what you were trying to do, and reached out to take your hand in his. “Who’s making you feel this good, bunny?”
“Ah, you, Lucas,” You cried, and Yukhei pressed a kiss to the junction of your shoulder and neck. 
“You think Doyoung could fuck you this good, baby?”
Your stomach curled at his words, and you shook your head. “N-no,” You said, hips bucking back to meet his. “Don’t want him, want you.” 
“F-fuck, that’s my girl, you just wanna be mine, huh?”
You nodded, unable to answer at the pleasure coursing through your veins. Yukhei wasn’t satisfied by this, evident in the way he tugged on your hair and pulled your head up. You shrieked not only at the pleasure, but also how unexpected it was. Yukhei was always one to be gentle, but now, with the need he felt to fuck you until you were both satiated, all of his mercy went out the window. 
“Use your fucking words,” Yukhei snarled, hips never letting up. You whimpered, eyes closing.
This wasn’t Yukhei, or Lucas, or Xuxi. No, this was pure, unbridled, alpha wolf taking the reins. And in this moment, you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
“Y-yeah, I want you to make me yours,” You answered in a small, shaky voice.
“You wanna be my bitch, baby?”
“Fuck,” You moaned, pussy clenching at his question, “Please…”
“Please what, bunny?” The wolf asked, voice sickly sweet, and you bit your lip, trying not to cry out. “P-please make me your bitch, baby.”
He pressed a kiss to your shoulder again, letting go of your hair. You fell back onto the mattress, practically boneless; you couldn’t find it within you to hold yourself up. His hands found their way back to your hips, using them as leverage as he pounded into you.
“What my bitch wants, my bitch gets.”
His hips sped up, something you didn’t know was possible. You were vaguely aware of his headboard ramming into the wall, but you couldn’t care less. All you could care about was the growing pleasure bubbling in the pit of your stomach, which only boiled hotter when you reached between your legs to pinch at your clit.
Yukhei groaned at the same moment you did, relishing in the way your walls clenched at the sensation.
“How the fuck are you still so tight?” He said. You craned your neck to get a good look at him, chest tightening at the sight.
His tan skin glowed with sweat, eyes rolled up into his head, mouth open as he let loose grunts and groans, and his light brown hair was matted with sweat. The dark ears on his head were twitching furiously and his cheeks were flushed. You felt like you could have cum from the sight alone.
 Could have, because the awkward angle made your neck hurt, and it pained you to not be able to touch his skin or tug on his hair. 
Yukhei opened his eyes immediately when you muttered out a soft, “stop, stop,” his hips stopping much to his discomfort. He sighed in relief when he realized you just wanted to change your position. You whined softly in discomfort when his cock slipped out of you, shaky legs doing their best to maneuver into the position you wanted.
You flopped down onto your back in front of him, staring up at him. “Come on,” You said breathlessly, parting your legs, “You know what I want you to do.”
He exhaled, eyes scanning your sweaty body, taking in just how beautiful you looked beneath him. “Fuck, I love you so much,” He declared, settling in between your legs, slipping back into you with ease.
You took advantage of the position, wrapping your legs around his waist, trying to pull him closer. Your hands wrapped around him, reaching for his back. You dug your nails into the skin, and he huffed slightly at the pinch of pain.
He growled with pride when his eyes darted down to where you were connected. “Fuck, that’s so hot, bunny. You’re so fucking tiny.”
Your eyes followed his, and you whined when you realized that there was a bulge sticking out of your tummy. 
He immediately retook his rhythm, pounding away like there was no tomorrow, voice getting louder. It was still a bit far, but you could tell he was approaching his high, just like you. He was pressing wet kisses to your breasts, large hands groping them. Your head fell back, mind completely blank.  
“X-Xuxi, I’m c-close,” You mumbled, “Please touch me.”
He nodded, lifting off of one of your nipples to meet your eyes. “Shit, me too,” He agreed, voice shaky. His lips travelled to your neck, one hand travelling to your clit. You moaned loudly, throwing your head back to reveal more of the skin of your neck. 
“Gonna make you mine,” He growled, “Gonna fuck you full of my pups, show everyone who you belong to.”
His hips were losing their finesse, their rhythm, pace turning sloppy as his hand rubbed at your clit, hoping to make you cum.
“Yes, yes, yes,” You cried nonsensically, toes curling. “Make me yours, Lucas, ah, fuck, w-want it so bad!”
And then he sunk his teeth into your neck, and you tumbled over the edge, a lot harder than you ever expected it to be. You were drowning in a dizzying mix of pleasure and pain, vision blurring as your body writhed against Yukhei like a woman possessed. You cried out his name one final time, voice dying after you did. 
You heard him groan against you, hips grinding against you as he released inside of you. Your mind immediately realized what was going on as his cock swelled within your walls, eyes snapping open as the sheer size of his knot caused you to cry out. Whether that was from the burn of being stretched beyond your limits, or the satisfaction of stuffed with him. 
 You were wordless when you managed to come down, breathing heavily, his head resting on your collar bone. The need that had been itching inside of you had gone away, for now. Your mind cleared up, and you were suddenly very aware of the fact that Yukhei was naked, on top of you, and now the two of you were stuck together for god knows how long. The few words you had exchanged prior were under the influence of his rut and, subsequently, your heat, and even before that, an argument that led to you not speaking to each other for a week.
"So…" You muttered, voice hoarse.
"Uhh…" Lucas lifted his head, tired eyes meeting yours. They were back to brown. "I take this as an 'apology accepted'?" 
You rolled your eyes, swatting his arm playfully. "You're not completely out of the woods yet, asshole. You were a huge dick. But what matters now is that we're together, and I love you. We can work the rest out later."
Yukhei's hand brushed a stray hair out of your face, smiling softly at you. "I don't deserve you," He murmured, "But I promise I'll do my best to treat you like a queen." 
You pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "I'd like that."
You both fell asleep slightly after, whispering sweet nothings and promises of a better tomorrow into each other's ears.
And when Taemin—who had worried about Yukhei not coming back to his apartment got worried enough to use your hidden spare key to get into the apartment—woke you up, screeching at the "ungodly sight" of your naked bodies pressed against one another, you laughed, despite Yukhei's possessive instincts kicking in and covering your body with his.
Because you finally had Yukhei in your arms, and, regardless of whether he's got fluffy ears and a tail or not, you were happy to call yourself his.
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storiesforallfandoms · 4 years ago
Text
childhood secrets ~ hannibal lecter;hannibal
word count: 1711
request?: yes!
shady80smusicsingercolor “Hey! Can i request something
Hannibal l x reader
The reader kept her childhood a secret from everyone,until she was watching news about a teen getting bullied,she remembers her childhood and just cries.Hannibal notices and goes run up to her,ask what's wrong.She explain what happen,that her childhood friends used make fun of her,or calling her weirdo.Hannibal comforts her
Hope is okay❤”
description: after hearing the story of a teenager’s tragic passing, unwanted memories are brought back to her
pairing: hannibal lecter x female!reader
warnings: swearing, mentions of suicide and suicidal thoughts, mentions of bullying
masterlist
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“Did you hear about the Thompson girl?” Zeller asked as we examined some DNA for a case.
“Who’s the Thompson girl, first and foremost?” I asked.
“She was friends with Abigail Hobbs when she was sent to that psychiatric facility,” Price explained. “They were room neighbors I think.”
“Oh! That Hannah girl! What happened to her?”
“Her parents found her dead in her room. Suicide.”
I was so shocked at the response that I dropped the tool in my hand. Both of them looked at me for a moment as I just looked down at my hands. I was trying to calm the growing PTSD rising in me.
“The poor thing,” I finally managed to say.
“Yeah,” Price said. “I think she was in the facility because of mental illness. Her parents put her in there after her first attempt.”
Zeller shook his head. “Poor thing. They shouldn’t have let her check out so soon. (Y/N), are you okay?”
I was still staring down at my hands. They were shaking and it was getting hard to breathe. I could barley register the fact that Zeller had asked me something. They were both looking at me, expectantly.
“What? Yes, I’m fine,” I responded. “I gotta get some fresh air.”
I threw my coat and gloves on a nearby table and quickly raced for the exit. I had to wait for the elevator to take me to the ground floor, but the wait was antagonizing. My chest and throat felt tight, I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
When the elevator door opened, I was faced with Jack Crawford, Will Graham, and Hannibal Lecter.
“(Y/N),” Crawford said. “Are you okay?”
I couldn’t respond this time. I had to get out, I had to be away from there.
The breathe of fresh air in my lungs was just what I needed, but I was still feeling panicked. Flashbacks were running through my head, things I had repressed for all those years coming back all at once, hitting me like a freight train. I sat down on the sidewalk, trying to calm my breathing enough to go back inside.
“Miss. (Y/L/N)?”
I looked up to see Hannibal stood behind me.
“I’m fine, Dr. Lecter,” I told him. “You don’t have to check on me.”
“You’re very obviously not okay. You’re breathing is abnormal and you look as though you’ve been crying.”
I felt my cheek and was shocked to find that Hannibal was right, I had been crying. I hadn’t even realized it before.
“I’m fine,” I repeated, but the crack in my voice gave me away.
Hannibal sat next to me. I tried not to let him see my face, but I knew there was no turning back now. He had seen me in the elevator, he saw how unhappy I was at that moment. Any other person would just think I was overwhelmed from work, or maybe one of our discoveries had upset me, but Hannibal was a talented psychiatrist. He probably already knew what was wrong with me.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.
I chuckled. “How often does that one work?”
“Enough times to keep me employed.”
I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. “Zeller and Price were telling me about a girl that used to be friends with Abigail, Hannah Thompson. She...she...”
“I know,” Hannibal finished for me, luckily. Just thinking about having to finish that sentence made my throat tight again. “I wasn’t aware you knew her so well.”
“I didn’t, but I know...the feeling. Like you’re trapped in your own mind and there’s only one way out of it.”
Hannibal was looking at me, waiting for me to continue but not pushing me to go any further than I felt comfortable with. I wouldn’t have to go any further with my explanation if I didn’t want to, I knew he wouldn’t force me. We could’ve dropped it right then and there.
But my mouth moved before my mind could comprehend what I was sating, “I was the weird girl in school. While other girls wanted to be princesses or astronauts, I wanted to be a forensic scientist. I always had a fascination with crime and forensics and such. At first, I was just an outcast with no friends, until a group of girls took me in and added me to their group in high school. They weren’t super popular girls, but they also weren’t my level of outcast or anything, so, understandably, I was excited.”
“I’d assume it wasn’t as ideal of a situation as you were led to believe.”
I shook my head, tears forming in my eyes again. “They only befriended me so I could be their verbal punching bag. It started mild at first, just some friendly jokes that I could throw back at them. Then they started calling me the weird girl, the freak who liked death and murder. They’d make fun of me for reading stuff about unsolved murders, or even just murder mystery novels. They told me I’d probably grow up to be one of the unfound murderers in those stories. They put me down at every chance they got, but they were the only friends I had so I just...I dealt with it. I even gave up the opportunity to shadow at a police department during my senior year because I was afraid of them making fun of me more.”
“What was the tipping point?” Hannibal asked. “Obviously they are no longer around. I assume either you got rid of them or...they left themselves.”
“A bit of both really,” I responded. “One day, their bullying just got too much for me. My parents never liked the group, so I felt like I couldn’t go to them because they’d just tell me ‘I told you so’ - not because that’s how my parents are but because that was my irrational fear - and the teachers and guidance councilors and principals at school were garbage. They did nothing unless they actually witnessed the bullying first hand, and even then it was always a slap on the wrist punishment. So, I thought...I thought I only had one way out.”
I was still half conscious when my parents found me. My mother’s screams were permanently etched in my head, her sobs breaking through the otherwise muffled sounds I was hearing. Even when I blacked out, all I could hear in my head was my mother.
“They sent me to the same hospital Abigail was in,” I continued, skipping over the nasty parts that I couldn’t bare to relive. “My parents said I needed actual, medical help, that they couldn’t ignore my mental health issues anymore. I was there for months. I met people just like me, people who understood what I was going through. I made friends with a lot of them, and they’re all still in my life right now. My high school friend group came to visit me at one point. They seemed genuine enough with their apologies, saying they didn’t realize how much I took their words to heart and how they didn’t know how dark of a place I was in mentally. I don’t know how true any of that was, but they put on a good act. When they finished their groveling, I told them to go fuck themselves and to never contact me again. They were...offended, to say the least. Apparently they spread rumors about me at school, but I finished my senior year at a different school so it didn’t really matter to me. Went off to do forensic science in college and...here I am.”
For a moment, a look of pride passed over Hannibal’s face, as if the end of my story made him feel proud for me. I guess it made me feel proud, too, but sometimes I kicked myself for sticking around with that toxic friend group for far too long.
“I’ve never told anyone that,” I admitted. “Not anyone who didn’t know me at the time, anyways. I tried to keep it repressed, but hearing about Hannah Thompson...it brought all those memories back for me. Maybe I’m not over it like I think I am.”
“Mental trauma when your brain is still developing is not something one can easily get over,” Hannibal said. “It takes years, and even then those painful memories could follow you to your grave.”
I winced at the thought of having to battle with those memories until the day I died. Part of me was still worried that they would be the reason I would eventually die.
“But it is important to know that your old friend group was wrong,” he continued. “There is nothing wrong with being interested in something that the masses aren’t interested in. I’d argue that being interested in murder and police work is much better than wanting to grow up and be a princess or an astronaut. Your job helps the police to find serial killers and to save innocent people from being their victims. There’s nothing weird about that, not in my eyes.”
I smiled. “Thank you, Dr. Lecter. I think I just needed to hear that when I was younger and...no one really said it to me before.”
“I’m saying it now,” he said. “If you ever feel overcome with those memories again, please do not hesitate to call me. A beautiful and brilliant mind such as yourself should not be worrying over what irrelevant people have to say about you.”
I felt myself blush, but I wasn’t sure if it was from the reassurance Hannibal was giving me, or if it was from the compliment.
“I want to sit out here for a little while longer,” I told him. “I still need some air, and to come down from what happened back there. You don’t have to wait for me.”
“I don’t have to, but I will,” he decided. “I want to make sure you’re okay before I join my collegues again.”
I smiled at him again. I definitely wasn’t about to fight him on staying there with me. Quite the opposite, actually. If there was anyone I wanted with me in that moment, it was Hannibal.
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