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streamafterlaughter · 5 days ago

Text

Soundtrack to Disaster

Chapter IX: Want This Like a Cigarette

masterlist | playlist | pinboard | prev | diaries coming soon

songs for this chapter: colorblind by movements (acoustic), guilty pleasure by chappell roan, grudges by paramore

chapter tags: yearning, angst, missed opportunities, miscommunication, all the fun stuff! drinking, smoking (weed, cigarettes), adult language and scenarios | fic tags: angst, hurt/(eventual) comfort, (eventual) smut, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, Eddie Munson x Fem!OC!Reader, Modern AU | This fic is rated 18+ MDNI each chapter will have its own content/trigger warnings

summary: you continue to piece together the mystery of your brother's sentence, learning little by little exactly what happened.

a/n: act I of god knows how many is coming to a close! things are about to get.... well. I don't wanna spoil anything. disregard!

taglist: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @kellsck @faggotinie @xplrnowornever @taccobelle @micheledawn1975 @mewchiili @dreamerjj @losingmygrasponreality @munsonburn3r

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You arrive at Steve and Robin’s a few hours before you’re supposed to leave for the concert. You feel the giddiness in your chest, the looming excitement of finally seeing one of your favorite artists live. That feeling quickly fades when you see the van parked outside of your friends’ place.

Inside the apartment, Steve pours four shots, one for each of you, and Eddie who’s lounging on the couch with a beer in his hand. You try not to stare, but it’s difficult to look away from the display; Eddie dressed in leather pants and a cropped t-shirt, his battle vest draped over the arm of the couch. His hair is tied into a low ponytail, revealing a dangly earring swinging against his neck. You clear your throat, feeling suddenly claustrophobic.

“Bee! Come in! Have a shot, I call it the Pink Pony.” Steve gestures dramatically to the kitchen island.

You laugh, reaching to strip your jacket from your shoulders. “What exactly is a Pink Pony shot?” You humor him, knowing you’ll probably regret it.

“It’s vodka, pink lemonade, and glitter.” Robin deadpans, plucking one of the glasses from the lineup. “Steve found this drinkable glitter shit online. To me it just looks like Edward Cullen pissed in here.” She closes one eye, inspecting the drink, but ultimately decides it’s worth the risk and downs it in one gulp. Her face scrunches as if she’s in pain, and she shakes her head wildly. “Delish.” She gives an extremely unconvincing thumbs up, and Steve rolls his eyes.

“Whatever. Here,” He hands another glass to you, “I don’t think it’s that bad.”

You gesture the glass to your friends before throwing it down your throat, trying desperately not to wince as it burns in your stomach. “This is…”

“Gasoline.” Eddie adds from the couch. “Jet fuel, even.”

You nod. “He’s right. Steve, where the fuck did you buy this shit?”

“I dunno! I got an ad on TikTok.”

There's a collective groan from the three of you, followed by various exclamations of Steve’s naive purchase. “It might actually be vampire piss!” You joke, earning a giggle from Eddie that makes your stomach flutter.

“You guys suck.” Steve pouts, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Steve, baby, you’re good at so many things. Making drinks just isn’t one of them.” Robin gives her roommate a loving pat on the shoulder, and he surrenders.

“It is not that bad.” He takes his own shot, and fails miserably to hide his disgust. “Fine, I digress. Bee, you wanna make the next round?”

You sigh, approaching your friends in the kitchen, and feeling Eddie rise from the couch behind you. “You know I’m not working tonight, right?”

Robin juts her lip out. “Please, Bee? We can’t suffer through another round of Pink Pony farts.”

Steve gasps, but you throw your head back with laughter. “Alright, fine. If it means saving the lives of my friends, I guess I’ll do it for free. Just this once, though.” You snatch the glitter from Steve’s hand. “None of this shit, though.” And you dump it down the sink while Robin holds Steve back from lunging at you.

Once the damage is done, you turn to where Steve keeps his alcohol, on the rack by the fireplace. You peek through his half empty bottles, returning with a few you can use. “This, friends and Eddie, is the Bazooka Joe.” You place the Irish cream, banana liqueur, and blue curacao on the counter. “It’s supposed to taste like bubblegum.” You eyeball the measurements, filling each shot glass with the liquids, creating a milky teal color. Your friends each take one, throwing them down quickly. Their reactions are mixtures of shock and pleasant surprise.

Eddie is the next to speak. “I don’t have any drink recipes to offer, but if anyone would like to join me on the balcony for a joint,” He pulls one from behind his ear, “speak now or forever hold your peace.” His eyes meet yours then, and you can’t dismiss it as an accident. He’s asking you to come out.

“I’m good,” Robin says, narrowing her eyes at Eddie. “Don’t like to smoke before going out in public.”

Steve starts, “Ooh, I’ll—,” but stops short when Robin shoves her elbow into his side. “I’m good,” he coughs, “You guys go ‘head.”

You frown. He knows your rule, but he makes that stupid pouty face at you anyway. “C’mon, Bee. Don’t make me smoke alone.”

Rolling your eyes, you secede. “Fine. I’ll make a one time exception to the rule. On one condition.”

“What's that?”

“No talking.”

—

He lasts all of five minutes. “This is stupid.” You shake your head, refusing to indulge. “That’s fine. I’ll talk. You can keep not-talking.” He hands you the joint, and you take it, inhaling sweet smoke as Eddie continues, disregarding your agreement. “I wanna apologize. For a lot of things, actually. Last night, that wasn’t cool. I shouldn’t have sunk to his level, I don’t know what came over me.” You sense him staring at you, but fight the urge to look at him. Instead you keep your eyes forward, staring into the darkness of your neighborhood. He sighs, and continues, “And I’m so, so sorry about everything with your brother. It wasn’t easy for me either, y'know. Chris and I were best friends. But I couldn’t not listen to him. He did it to save my stupid ass.”

You finally look at him, passing him the joint as you try to read his face. “What do you mean by saving your ass?” The riddles are tired, and you can’t stand the thought of never getting the whole story.

He inhales before responding, “The cops already had it out for me. Since the second I turned eighteen, they waited for me to screw up. Pretty sure they had a bet on when I’d get arrested.” His tone is light, but you can see the sadness on his face as he recalls it. “I begged Chris not to tell you. He told me he wouldn’t, but only because he wanted me to. He made me promise to take care of you, and I broke that promise. You already hated me so much when you found out I snitched, you couldn’t even look at me. We stopped talking. I didn’t think telling you would change anything.”

The information sinks into your skin, and you have to focus on a tree in the distance to stop the world around you from spinning. You cycle through the stages of grief on a loop, getting emotional whiplash each time you try to make sense of what Eddie’s just said to you. Finally, you land on anger and stay there.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

He shakes his head, bewildered. “What?”

“Eddie, if you had just told me all of this six years ago–”

“I couldn’t, Bee. I wanted more than anything to tell you, but I couldn’t get out of my own way.”

The buzzing in your head is loud, disorienting. “So you ran away instead?”

Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes closed in concentration. “Bee, listen–”

“Eddie, please. Stop talking.” This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. You slide the screen door open, returning to the warmth of inside, trying not to let your friends read the shock and pain written plainly on your face. “Okay, I think I’m ready.”

–

Lining up for concerts used to be one of your favorite hobbies. If a show had general admission, you’d park yourself outside the venue for hours, holding your spot in the hopes that the artist would sweat on you. As you’ve gotten older, you’ve realized it is definitely not worth the hassle of waiting outside all day, sitting on the concrete until your butt falls asleep. When you and your friends arrive at the venue, the doors are already open, and a bouncer is leading you to the VIP lounge, where you give them your names. It earns you a few glares from people in the general admission line.

“Swanky!” Robin exclaims when she enters the green room, which is actually pretty lackluster. The dressing room holds a long fold out table filled full of snacks and drinks, parallel to an old couch with garish print that you’re sure probably hasn't been cleaned in decades.

“Sure, if that’s how you wanna put it.” The giggling comes from behind you, where Macy is leaning against the doorframe. “Hi, guys! Really glad you could make it.” She approaches you first, pulling you into an unexpected embrace. “Hi, doll! So nice to see you.” Something about her disposition puts you off, her smile looks plastic.

Macy makes her rounds, greeting each of your friends with a hug before turning to her boyfriend. “Hi, honey.” She stands on her tiptoes to daintily plant a kiss on his cheek, and the grin he wears is wide. You squint at the couple, trying to read them. “Make yourselves at home, we go on in half an hour. See you out there!” She gives a wave in the general direction of the room, and exits back to what you assume is her dressing room.

“This is so cool. Eddie, hold on to this one, yeah?” Steve plucks a cookie from the plate, and Robin gives him an expression of disbelief. “What?” He asks, mouth full. She just shakes her head.

–

The lights dim a few minutes after eight p.m., and the incoming crowd cheers with excitement. You and your friends are lined up across the barricade, off to one side to avoid the screaming teenagers only here for Chappell. You’re between Eddie and Robin, Steve on Robin’s other side yelling something in her ear you can’t make out.

A backing track fades in as the band takes the stage, and Macy approaches the mic stand. “Welcome to the show, everyone! We are Statuesque Dolls, from Hawkins, Indiana!” Zoe clicks her drumsticks together, and they start in on what you can only describe as a pop rock power ballad. Macy’s voice is stunning, you have to admit, reaching octaves you could only ever dream of reaching. The audience gets into it, swaying and dancing along to the rhythm, heads nodding to the beat. Some kids in the front are even singing, never missing a word Macy sings, and she points them out with a beaming grin on her face. Though you try, you can’t bring yourself to enjoy the set. The music is right up your alley of taste, and the band’s stage presence is nothing short of incredible, but the feeling of Eddie’s shoulder rubbing against yours as he belts out the words makes your chest tight, and every time Macy smiles at him you feel a throbbing in your temples.

Finally, they end their set, waving to the crowd before stepping off stage. Eddie announces he’s getting a drink, and nudges you. “Come with me?”

You glance at Robin, and swear you see her nod, as if giving you permission. “Okay.” You follow Eddie out of the crowd, over to the bar where a mass of people have gathered to attempt getting a drink.

“That was good, huh?” You ask feebly, trying to make small talk.

Eddie shrugs. “Yeah, they’re really good.” His tone is flat, and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“What’s up with you?”

He shakes his head, causing his already frizzy curls to fly around his face. “We uh, broke up. Me and Macy, I mean.”

You can’t help but drop your jaw, quickly shutting it when, even in the dim room, you see him blush with embarrassment. “Oh, shit. Eddie. I’m sorry. Wait, but she kissed you like, an hour ago?”

“Yeah, it was pretty amicable. I’m not, like, hurting over it. The band is going on tour after this, and I have, like, no interest in a long distance relationship.”

For some reason, it pisses you off. “But you still love her?”

“Whoa, Bee. Who said anything about love? I told you, it was pretty casual to begin with. What’s got you freakin’ out?” You think you sense teasing in his voice.

“I’m not freaking out, I guess I’m confused. You don’t think she’s worth the effort?”

He chuckles lightly as you approach the bar, ordering a cider for yourself and a beer for Eddie. “Of course she is. I’m not, though. She deserves better than that. Does it bother you?”

You roll your eyes, handing the bartender far too much cash for just two drinks. “You just said it wasn’t that serious, why would you care what I had to say about it?”

“Do you have something to say about it?” If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he sounded hopeful.

You pretend to ponder his question, then deadpan, “No. Believe it or not, I don’t give a shit about what you do with your dating life. You might break Steve’s heart if you tell him, though.”

Eddie visibly deflates as you hand him his drink. “Fuck, you’re right. You tell him.”

“No! I’m not doing your dirty work for you, Munson. Time to grow a pair.” With that, you breeze past him, back into the crowd.

–

“Thank you, Indy, I have been Chappell Roan!” The redhead onstage is a dream, absolutely stunning in a sparkly, pink, and complicated outfit. The fan blows her curly locks around, and you’d been so mesmerized that you’re only now registering the show is almost over.

She ends with pink Pony Club, causing Robin and Steve to jump around, screaming their voices hoarse, and you join them. By the end, you’re sweating bullets, makeup practically sliding down your face.

When she leaves the stage, you feel the relief of the crowd leaving, their weight that had been pressed to your back for hours finally fading. “That was insane. She’s incredible. Ethereal, really.” Steve is raving as you follow your friends out of the venue and into the cold of the night. “Eddie, man, you gotta go on tour.”

Eddie shrugs shyly. “Yeah, I’m workin’ on it, man.”

“No, man! With Macy, be the tour wife! You’ll get to see her all the time, and Macy! Her band is awesome, I can’t believe–”

“Steve, Macy and I broke up.”

He stops in his tracks. “What? Why? What did you do?”

“Why do you always think I did something?”

“Because you always do something. Remember in high school when you wanted to ask-”

“Okay! Enough. For your information, I didn’t do anything. I just don’t want anything serious right now.”

It barely satisfies Steve, but he backs off with a huffed “Okay, whatever!” You look from the boys to Robin, who’s already staring at you, seemingly studying your reaction.

“What?” You ask her, and she shakes her head.

“Anyone want food? I’m buying.” Steve offers, earning collective nods and mumbles of affirmation. Eventually, you end up at a late night diner, and Eddie holds the door open for the rest of you.

–

You arrive home past midnight, eyes and limbs heavy with sleep. “I’ll see you tomorrow, right Bee?” Robin asks. You nod, only just now remembering you promised to help Steve set up his and Robin’s new entertainment center. “Okay, cool. I’ll get us coffee!” Your friends and Eddie all say goodbye, and the car pulls away as you enter your house, foregoing the shower you’re definitely going to need in favor of sleeping longer.

When you’re finally cozied up in bed, your phone buzzes.

Eddie (block later): Thx for listening. Gn bee.

You decide against a real reply, instead tapping the Thumbs Up reaction, and locking your phone before rolling over. Sleep doesn’t come, though, despite how physically tired you are. Your brain is wired, thoughts racing by too quickly to focus on. Every thought you’ve shoved aside, rushing at you at once. Most of them are questions you can’t answer on your own; Why did Eddie tell you about his breakup? Why is he suddenly being so fucking nice to you? Has he always been this goddamn pretty?

You groan, shoving your face into your pillow to stifle the noise. Unfortunately, that telepathy you share with your brother hasn’t gone away, even after six years apart.

“Hey,” Your bedroom door cracks open to reveal Chris’s forehead, illuminated by the hall light behind him. “Can’t sleep?”

You shake your head before remembering you’re in the dark. “No. You?”

“Nah.” He opens the door fully, stepping into the dark of your room. “How was your night?”

“Really… good?”

“You sound unsure.” He throws himself down on the end of your bed, bouncing you up and down with the mattress. “What happened?”

You pause, unsure of how much Chris needs to know. Ultimately, you know you can’t hide anything from him, even though he’d spent the last six years pretty much conspiring with Eddie against you. “Nothing, really. We went to the show, it was fantastic. I had a really good time.”

“And…?”

“And nothing!”

“Then why are you groaning into your pillow like a child throwing a tantrum?” He snickers, and you whack his arm. “C’mon, something’s bugging you.”

“Yeah, but it’s gonna sound stupid.”

“You’re my little sister, everything you say sounds stupid.”

“Wow, Chris. Thanks, that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy.” You sit up, tucking your comforter into your waist. “Seriously, you’re gonna think I’m insane.”

“Well, I already do, so you got nothing to lose.”

“It’s something Eddie told me.” He doesn’t speak, waiting for you to continue. “He said you told him to rat you out. That’s not true, is it?”

Your brother sighs, bringing his legs up onto your bed to mirror you. “Would it change anything if I said yes?” You huff, waiting for him to continue. “Bee,” Chris flops onto his stomach. “You ‘hate’ Eddie for something I told him to do. You iced him out because of me. I know you probably don’t want to admit it to yourself, but I am the reason you and Eddie don’t get along. I’m sorry, I didn’t think he’d up and leave you, I never would have expected that from him. He lo–” He stops himself short, then continues instead, “He cares about you so much, kid. I feel awful for ruining that.”

It hurts your brain, hearing Chris confirm that gnawing feeling you’ve had for days, since Eddie blurted out the same truth in a fit of anger. Now it washes over you like a tidal wave, suffocating you under its weight. “It’s not too late to fix things with him, Bee. I know he’s been a little weird lately, but I can understand why. Just, give him a chance to redeem himself. For me?”

“Chris, why the fuck would I do anything for you after you told me all that? You basically just admitted to ruining one of the closest friendships I have ever had, and six fucking years too late. I can’t just pretend that didn’t happen! Eddie fucking left because of it! I thought he’d betrayed you!”

“In all fairness, I told him to tell you, begged him even. I figured he had, until I got out. I had no idea he’d kept that part from you. I told you that.” He argues.

It’s too much at once, you can feel your skin burning. “Get out, Chris. Please.”

He doesn’t argue, rising from your bed and walking to the door before turning. “I can take the heat, I’ve been getting it from you my whole life, but the kid did nothing wrong. It was stupid of him to run instead of telling you, but he didn’t screw me like you’d thought for so long. Don’t hold that grudge, Bee, it’s not worth it.” Before you can respond, Chris closes the door behind him, leaving you to be swallowed by the dark of your room.

#st #fics #munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #Eddie munson x oc #Eddie munson x fem!oc!reader #angst #slow burn #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends #modern au #strangerthingscentral #stranger things fanfic #Eddie munson fanfiction #best friend!robin buckley #best friend!Steve harrington

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chaotic-iguana · 1 year ago

Note

Javi p x reader where ummm uhhh he is gone for long trip (post Columbia, where they’re on the ranch and his new job occasionally has to travel) and reader wears his clothes bc they miss him/clothes smell like him and javi comes home early to reader in his clothes and he’s like oh my goddd ur sooo cute and he just scoops reader up and idk it is cute

yes. this is the prompt. thank you anon sending you forehead kisses for life.

Away

Summary: Javier’s gone on a trip, and you just can’t help but miss him. lots of fluff. im a SLAVE for soft javi negl.

Wordcount: 1.4k

Pairing: Javier Peña x female! reader

Warnings: just a lot of domestic fluff and a little angst. some kissing and slightly suggestive language towards the end. also a little bit of swearing too. let me know if this works, anon!

masterlist. ao3.

part 2

————————————————————————

Even the coffee didn’t taste the same when he wasn’t here. Laredo had been perfect, a much required (and welcome) change in pace after Colombia. You’d met Javi working as an assistant of the Ambassador, practically detesting him at first.

He’d sauntered into your office, batted his lashes at you (no, seriously), complimented your nails, and just oh-so-casually asked you to get him some paperwork he had absolutely no business looking at. So you’d just clicked your pretty nails (his words) in his face and told him to get the fuck out and come back when you’ve got your head out of your ass.

Two weeks later, he’d just shown up again - sheepish, with proper coffee as a bribe this time - and asked for ten minutes with your boss. Impressed by his newly-discovered manners, you’d gotten him twenty minutes with the guy and helped sway him into authorizing a mission the Ambassador normally wouldn’t even have looked at.

The next morning, there’d been flowers on your desk with a little note scrawled in chickenscratch. Thank you, hermosa. Sorry for being an ass last time. I like the new nails too, maybe you could show them to me up close sometime? You’d exaggeratedly rolled your eyes and thrown the note in the trash, of course, but you couldn’t quite keep the grin off your face that whole week. Nor the week after that, when he took you out, and you did, in fact, give him a fully immersive tactileexperience of that new set of acrylics you’d gotten before the note.

Soon, the arrangement evolved from just sex to practically living together. You never spoke about it; Javi just had a closet in your home and his toothbrush in your bathroom. You went out for anniversary dinners without calling them anniversary dinners; flowers and coffee kept mysteriously showing up at your desk; and his informants started getting paid more and fucked less. By the time Javi left the DEA for good, you both had spent too many years by each other’s sides to change the routine. So the apartment was packed up, tickets to Laredo were brought, and you’d just followed him down here.

It was like just breathing Laredo air was enough to change the man. He’d asked you to marry him practically a week after you met Chucho, who had welcomed you with open arms. Obviously, you said yes, and you lived happily ever. Or as close to it as you could get with his work stealing him away most of the time. It made you laugh, the way you were still waiting on him to come back from his trips - but atleast they weren’t to Bogota anymore; your heart stuck in your throat the whole time he was away because what if he didn’t come back?

No, now that fear had long-faded - and though it flared up at times - a pathetic yearning took its place. Instead of being worried about Javi, you missed him when he was gone, counting down the days like a kid at summer camp waiting to go home. And in a way, you were waiting for your home too.

You loved Chucho, and Laredo, and your new job and all the comforts life had given you here, but the apartment just felt cold and empty when Javi wasn’t next to you. Waking you up with slow, languid kisses in the morning, laughing when you grumbled and rolled over - only to tickle you awake, instead. That cocky grin he got when he realised you were too short to reach something, coming up behind you to pull it down and immediately kissing your forehead because of course you were struggling and of course you were too stubborn to ask him for help. The tough poker face he put on before making one of those witty quips that made you laugh until there were tears in your eyes and you couldn’t stop giggling because it was so ridiculous.

His laugh, his kisses, his smell and his warmth - you missed all of it so fucking much - but you’d never so much as indicate that to him, of course. It was something you’d promised yourself back when the two of you were just a newly-transferred secretary and a DEA agent who might have happened to be in the same bar a few too many times on weekends; you never wanted to make it harder for him to leave, to make him feel like he had to choose between you and his job.

Today, you felt his lack of presence a bit more than normal; it was a day off and you had nothing to do. You and Javi would have spent half the day lounging on the couch and watching terrible movies, taking turns to put on quirky voices for scathing commentaries, ordered takeout and gotten into bed. To either sleep like the dead or get no sleep at all, depending on the mood.

You could go out, but you just didn’t want to meet people right now. You’d had dinner with Chucho a few days ago, which meant you couldn’t just show up at the ranch unannounced and say you’re bored, either. Not that he would mind, but he’d spent the day showing you how to make tamales and that had understandably thrown his work schedule off a bit and you didn’t want to make it worse.

So you showered and pulled out one of Javi’s sleep shirts and boxers, reveling in their comfort before curling up on the bed. You were flicking through the channels, bored out of your mind, when suddenly there was a knock on the door. “Cariño? It’s me.” The second his voice came from the other side, you were stumbling across the room to unlock the door and wrench it open. Beaming, you barely got to look at him before he was bursting through, throwing his bag down and he’d just scooped you up into his arms with practiced ease.

Walking you to the bed, he set you down gently before manoevring you both so that you were in his lap. Tugging at the hem of his shirt, his smile widened. “What’s this, hm?” A teasing tone crept into his voice as you flushed and looked away, biting your lip. You didn’t show affection easily, and you’d never worn any of his shirts before - scared of coming off as too needy, too clingy - even when you were married to the man, for god’s sake.

Watching you blush, Javi tilted your chin to make you look at him as his lips twisted into a smirk, leaning in to pepper kisses all over your face and giving you reprieve only when you squealed, pushing at his chest while giggling uncontrollably. “Did you miss me, honey?” Your shy nod just made him chuckle, gripping your chin to pull you into a deep, open-mouthed kiss. “You’re fuckin’ adorable, you know that? Walking around wearing my clothes when I’m not around - refusing to admit you missed me when I heard you trip on your way to the door.” The twinkle in his eye is only getting brighter with each word, and you’re struggling to meet his eye by the end of it. You knew he found it amusing - the fact that your usually foul-mouthed, unyielding nature; the woman who hadclicked her nails in his fucking face the first time they’d met - melted away to become all shy and flustered, just for him.

“Don’t laugh” you huff, burying your face in his neck to avoid meeting his eye because that was honestly just making your blush deeper. He just snickers again, the asshole, before kissing your forehead and mumbling softly.

“‘Course not, sweetheart. Hated being away, y’know? ‘N then I got home, and you just looked so cute in my shirt dwarfing you that I jus’ couldn’t help myself.” You leaned back, with a teasing grin of your own.

“Couldn’t help yourself? Sounds like you’ve gotta make up for laughing at your poor wife now, Mr Peña.” You peered up at him through your lashes, watching him catch on with widened eyes before fumbling with the buttons on his shirt and pulling it over his head, hurling it to the floor next to him.

“Come on then, wife. Let’s make amends, huh?”

hello loves, as always - thank you for reading. comment your thoughts or find me on ao3. stay hydrated and have a great day! taglist: @imherefordeanandbones @theywhowriteandknowthings

#narcos fanfiction #narcos #javier pena narcos #javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fluff #javi peña x reader #javier pena fic #javier pena imagines #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier peña fluff #javier peña imagine #javier peña x fem!reader #javier peña x female reader #cool-iguana

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slytherheign · 2 years ago

Text

CONNECTING ARTS | tasm!peter parker

PAIRING: photographer!tasm!peter parker x painter!fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 8.4k

SUMMARY: peter is slowly losing hope for his love of photography when he finds himself at a loss of inspiration. to give his passion a last chance to prove it’s worth holding on, he decides to do one last project: to capture a stranger’s life for 1 week. unbeknownst to him, with every click of his camera, he’ll slowly fall in love. unbeknownst to you, with every stroke of your paintbrush, you’ll realize your lives are more connected than you both initially thought.

WARNINGS: mentions of death, cursing/swearing, parent's negligence, reader being an orphan, anxiety, depression, inaccuracies (?) there may be some because i’m not a photographer nor a painter. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: G]

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this is angsty towards the end but it’s hurt/comfort and there are more fluff moments so the destination is sweet street instead of angst avenue. this took so long to write but it’s only bc i added a little bit of mystery here about the person in the reader’s painting and their pasts. i hope y’all forgive me. enjoy reading!

DESTINATION: Sweet Street | GO BACK TO THE STATION. CLICK HERE FOR ALL THINGS CONNECTING ARTS (reviews, commentary, etc. about this fic).

It’s truly terrifying how a person could suddenly lose interest in something they have spent their whole life yearning for.

This was Peter’s greatest fear—to watch the once-ignited flame of passion within him get slowly extinguished. Photography was supposed to be his lifeline. How could he let himself get drained of something that was his escapism?

Was it his surroundings, his personal life, or just life in general that made him uninterested in his hobby? He had no answer. He truly, certainly, absolutely did not know.

He stared at the camera that was atop the center table, and as he did so, flashbacks of the joyous moments he spent capturing people and places struck him. He had held that camera for years—garnering both little and grand memories that were far too special and memorable to forget. He couldn’t just let it go.

One more chance, he thought.

“Okay, let’s try again,” he said to himself. “One last time.”

So he grabbed his camera and went to the nearest place he thought would spark even just a pinch of inspiration—the park.

The busy yet calm buzz of people's chatter met him as the wind blew softly against his skin. He walked a few yards until he saw a bench which he sat on almost immediately. He raised the camera close to his eyes, adjusting the lens as he took pictures every now and then while scanning the surroundings.

A couple on a bench that was turned back from him and facing the city bay. The guy had his arm around the girl’s shoulders while her head rested on his.

Click.

A mother gently pushing her child that was giggling so hard at the swing.

Click.

A lovely couple walking the grounds, holding each other’s hands without an ounce of care in a world that judged them because they were both women.

Click.

A large oak tree from which the outline beautifully clashed with the slow setting of the sun.

Click.

Suddenly, his hands seemingly moved on their own as the camera panned over downwards without him even noticing.

A girl underneath an oak tree, gracefully sitting on a paint-covered cream blanket. Art supplies were messily scattered over the soft blanket while the girl was drawing something on a canvas in front of her.

Click.

He zoomed in, focusing on her face. He couldn’t help it, she was mesmerizing. The girl must’ve felt it because she looked straight at the camera, piercing his eye that was behind the lens.

He put down the camera instantly, mouthing an apology towards you as he realized he probably distracted you from your drawing. You shook your head, letting a small smile form on your lips. You gestured for him to come over, and without hesitation, he did.

You quickly but carefully moved some of your things to give him space on the blanket to sit on. “Thanks,” he mumbled. “What are you drawing?” he asked.

“Someone,” you replied, showing him the canvas. There wasn’t much on it at the moment, just the initial sketch of a person’s body and a white fence in the background. The person did not have a face yet.

Click.

Peter captured the canvas with his camera. As he looked up, he saw your puzzled face staring at him. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I haven’t asked for your permission to take pictures of you and your work. I can delete it if you want to.”

“No, it’s fine,” you reassured him. “I’m just curious, do you take pictures of everything?”

“No, usually just the interesting stuff,” he chuckled at your question.

“So you think I’m interesting?” you winked playfully.

“I…” he started to say, but then stopped before smiling. “Yeah, I do. The most interesting, actually.”

He noticed your cheeks redden, but before you could think of a reply, Peter’s eyes slightly widened as an idea dawned upon him.

“Can I ask something crazy?” he asked.

“I love crazy,” you beamed with excitement, putting down your canvas to face him. “Go ahead.”

“I was thinking… if maybe I could capture the process of you completing your artwork? Like… capture your life for a week?”

He noticed the slight skepticism in your eyes. “I know this is kinda weird considering we just met but I–I just think you’re really cool a-and awesome and I’m really fascinated by you.”

“You know, usually I don’t entertain strangers much more let them stay in my apartment… but I have a good feeling about you,” you admitted. “So…” you nodded.

“Okay, just so we’re clear, you are agreeing for me to capture and document your life for a week?”

“Yes.”

Perfect. This was the exact thing he needed. A good and worthy ending for his slowly dying passion.

“I feel like shit,” he said suddenly. “I haven’t even asked your name. I’m Peter,” he offered his hand.

You chuckled as you shook his hand. “I’m Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. How do you want this to work?” he didn’t want to decide by himself since it’s your life he would be documenting in the first place.

“Uhh–here,” you ripped a piece from a sketchbook you weren’t using. With a pencil you pulled from the back of your ear, you wrote your address on the piece of paper. “That’s um–where I live. Come by tomorrow morning.”

“Okay.”

Peter smiled on his way home.

He was ready for his very last project.

DAY 1.

You awoke from the same ray of sunshine that visited you every morning through your large window. You wasted no time as you made your bed and took a shower quickly. Normally, you wouldn’t even bother to leave your bed for at least half an hour after waking up but today was different. You had a visitor and for some reason, you wanted to impress him. After all, he was the first person to ever visit your place.

The place that you called home was a studio apartment with a loft bedroom. You had no usual living room because you turned it into a painting studio. The only places where paint—with exception of white—didn’t reach the wall or the floor were the small kitchen area and the loft bedroom where you sleep every night. But above all things, your favorite part of your apartment was the large window that occupied the entire wall facing the first floor and the loft floor.

After dressing yourself in a white shirt and brown overalls, you decided to put your hair up in a ponytail. The moment you started to heat water for your morning coffee, you heard a knock on your door.

“Hi,” Peter greeted.

“Hello,” you smiled in return, opening the door wider for him to enter your humble abode.

Peter’s mouth slightly parted from the aesthetic of your apartment. His eyes scanned the place like a child in a candy store. He saw the canvases on the floor that were both empty and painted on, and the large wooden table in the middle of the room that had art supplies and an unreal amount of colorful paints scattered on top of it.

Click.

And from that moment on, he knew your place was something else.

“This place is amazing,” he complimented.

“Thank you,” you said, a proud grin presenting on your lips. “Coffee?”

“Thanks,” he smiled, accepting your offer. “How long have you had this place?”

“Since I was 19. A year after I moved out from the orph–uh from my old home.” Thankfully, Peter was too busy admiring the place to even notice you almost slipping out.

No one gets to know your past. That was your life rule. The present and the future were what mattered.

“Here,” you placed the mug atop the side table near the entrance. There was a small couch—noticeably thrifted—beside it where Peter sat. “Careful, it’s hot,” you warned him as he tried to hold the mug and drink while still being distracted by your paintings.

You sat beside him, sipping your coffee as well. “How did you get into photography?” you asked.

“I think I’ve always been interested in the art of photography since I was a kid. I’ve always loved taking photos back then and I think it’s really cool that memories can be captured in the form of pictures forever.”

You agreed, nodding your head. “Same goes with painting. Sometimes, I paint my surroundings, mostly people that I see around me; sometimes, I have pictures as my reference; sometimes, I like storing memories in my head and then painting them when I get my hands on a canvas. But the best thing about it though is that I can paint not what I see but what I want to see.”

The last line you said seemed to get his full attention. “What do you mean by that?” his face showed an intrigued expression.

“It means that I can paint whatever I want. I can paint the past, the present, and the future. And sometimes, you hate the past and the present, so you just change them in your paintings. And then when you start hating the future too, you just paint what you want the future to be. Basically, what I’m saying is, you can manipulate life through a painting. Reality and imagination share a room, and there’s really no limit.”

There was something about the words you said that made Peter realize just how deep of a person you are. It wasn’t just your paintings he was mesmerized by anymore, but also you. He would love to get to know you more.

DAY 2.

Same time, same place, different day.

“Good morning,” he greeted you once you opened the door. You let him in, excited for the day because you planned on teaching him how to paint. It wasn’t your idea, he asked you yesterday if he could be the first person you teach how to paint and you accepted the challenge. You didn’t consider yourself a good teacher, but oh well, you weren’t going to back down from a challenge.

“Coffee?” you offered.

“Oh no. You promised to teach me how to paint and I would very much like to start learning now,” he had a huge excited grin plastered on his face.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” you smirked proudly.

“How do you know which canvas to use? There are so many sizes,” he asked, standing over the piles of empty canvases on the floor.

“It depends on what you’re going to paint. Do you have something on your mind?”

“I-uh… no? I thought the idea would come naturally honestly.”

“That’s fine! Sometimes, it comes naturally. Sometimes, it doesn’t and you have to push yourself until it eventually comes.”

“Why would you push yourself if it doesn't come naturally? Wouldn’t you just take a break and wait?”

“I could wait, But I prefer not to. I push myself because I want to paint and the lack of ideas won’t hinder me from painting. This is my passion, I want to do this forever. If I took a pause every time I had no idea what to paint, most of my paintings wouldn’t exist and I would’ve given up this passion years ago.”

“What about rest? Do you even take a rest?” he asked as you handed him a small-sized canvas. You thought it was the best for beginners.

You chuckled lightly. “I’m human, Peter. Of course, I rest. But not when I know I’m getting uninterested in painting. When I get over that phase and I’m inspired again, that’s when I rest. I don’t go to bed until I have that fire in me again that dances with the art of painting.”

Now, that was something that hit Peter all the way to his core. How could you even manage to do it? To answer the question he didn’t even know he had in his heart so effortlessly and precisely?

He now knew his mistake—he let the lack of inspiration slowly extinguish the fire in him whenever he was feeling uninspired. He realized now that he didn’t push hard enough. But that would change, starting now.

“I think I know what to paint now. And this size is just perfect, thank you.”

You watched him put his canvas on an easel. He looked at you, his eyes asking a question about what to do next.

“You can draw first, sketch what would be the outline of your painting, and then let it guide you when you start painting. Or you could proceed to paint immediately. But if you ask me, I would recommend sketching first so you won’t make a lot of mistakes later when you actually start painting.”

“Okay. I’ll sketch first. Thank you,” he said as you handed him a pencil. He started drawing lines, and then curves, and then came the shapes.

“That’s really good. Damn, didn’t know you were good at drawing,” you complimented. He laughed lightly. “Thanks, I think I got the genes from my mother. My aunt always told me she was a really good artist.”

Once he was close to finishing his drawing, it dawned on you that he was drawing a sunrise. You wouldn’t tell him, but it reminded you of one of your paintings. It wasn’t a sunrise, but it was similar. Maybe you’d show it to him when he finishes his painting.

“I’m done!” he announced proudly. “Nice!” you replied. “Are you ready to paint?”

“Oh no no no… please, I think that’s enough for me today,” he laughed. “Don’t get me wrong, but that little drawing took a lot of work. I’d like to go back to my camera now.”

DAY 3.

Same time, same place, different day.

“Good mo–”

“Morning!” you cut him off as you opened the door. He laughed seeing your proud face. “Come in.”

“Coffee?”

“Actually–yeah. I’d like a coffee,” he answered, yawning.

“Had trouble sleeping?” you asked.

He nodded. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

He felt how the silence almost swallowed the room and how your eyes never left his. Only then did he realize what he said.

“I–uh-I m-mean ab-about the things… y-yeah about the things you said yesterday w-when you talked about painting an-and your passion and your–uh… like making sure the fire that dances within you stays lit,” he was rambling.

You let out a giggle. Deep inside, you were struggling not to blush. “I understand. You know, if you want me to stop saying deep things about life and other stuff, just tell me.”

He was quick to raise his hand, as if stopping you from doing something idiotic. “Oh no. Please, don’t stop. Don’t ever stop saying things that are so deep that it makes other people unable to sleep just thinking about them.”

“You make it sound like you don’t like it,” you chuckled as you turned your back on him to prepare his morning drink.

He shook his head. “Oh, I like it. I like it when you say things like that. It makes me double-think my life or just life in general. For the better.”

“Thanks. I don’t really have a lot of people to talk to so I can understand if you think I’m being too much.”

“You’re not being too much, I assure you that. You’re just wise… and I love that about you.”

You almost dropped the mug by turning almost instantly to face him. No one has appreciated you like that before, and it certainly felt good. You couldn’t stop—and didn’t want to stop—the smile that formed on your lips.

Click.

You were out of words if you were being honest so you instead chose to ask why he took a picture of you just then. “What was that for? The picture? I wasn’t even painting.”

“It’s for memories… beautiful ones,” he winked and you swore you felt something in your stomach that you never felt before. Oh, this can’t be happening.

“Um–anyway, here’s your coffee,” you said as you handed him the drink. You quickly changed the topic. “I was thinking maybe we should continue doing our paintings? You continue yours and I continue mine. If you need my help or you have any questions, just tell me.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

This was harder than Peter expected it to be. There were so many colors to choose from. How could he know what were the right colors to use? This was his first painting and he was being mentored by an incredible painter. He wanted this to be good. He wanted to impress you.

“You could always start with orange or yellow,” you said as you noticed him struggling.

“I feel like I need a reference just to know where the orange starts to blend with yellow.”

“Okay,” you agreed with him. “The internet has a lot of pictures of the sunrise.”

“I know, but I kinda want my own?” he shrugged. “Those pictures are the sunrise from other people’s eyes that they took from their cameras. I want to know the color of the sunrise from my perspective, you know? It’s just that I just realized I’m doing a sunrise painting and I haven’t even seen the sun actually rise… I want to see it for myself and then take my own pictures of it while it happens. Maybe then I could connect more with my painting.”

You stopped painting as you stared at him, feeling extremely proud that you couldn’t help but grin. “You want to connect more with your painting?” you repeated.

“Yes.”

“Then let’s do it. Tomorrow, let’s meet up at the park early in the morning just before the sun rises. I’ll take you to my secret spot.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, of course.”

“I’m excited,” he smiled and you reciprocated it. He then picked up his camera again to take pictures of you.

By now, the background of your painting was finished. A white picket fence, on the back of it was a brick-walled house. A figure was in front, but it was yet to be painted on. The outline of the man was the only blank surface left on your canvas.

Click.

You were glad Peter still hadn't asked any questions about your painting.

DAY 4.

Different time, different place, different day.

You immediately saw Peter the moment you were close to the park. It wasn’t hard to spot him since it was early and not a lot of people roamed the place just yet—only the ones who jog there every day.

You didn’t notice him click his camera when you rushed towards him.

“Good morning!” Of course, he couldn’t forget about his daily greeting. In response, you greeted him back.

“And before you offer me coffee, I’d like to take you to my favorite coffee shop later. My treat. That is, of course, if you only want to.”

“I’d love to,” you smiled. “Let’s go.”

You held his hand and Peter swore he felt some kind of electric shock. A shock that was so addicting he was willing to get electrocuted if it meant getting to hold you much longer.

“We’re here,” you announced and Peter was suddenly brought back to earth. The ‘secret spot’ you mentioned was a little hill that was just a mile hike away from the park. The pathway entrance was covered with trees so it was concealed from most people. The view from up there was insanely breathtaking. He could clearly see the city bay and he was sure the sun would rise from where the city bay ended. You still held his hand and he assumed you just forgot you were holding it in the first place. There was no way you would hold his hand for this long.

You absolutely did not forget. But you didn’t do it on purpose either. See, the thing in your stomach that you felt yesterday always visited you whenever he was in your presence. For some reason, there was a need for your body to touch his, and as much as you tried to control it, there was no containing it. That was what happened. Your hand acted on its own and it didn’t want to let his hand go. It was kind of embarrassing and you just wished he didn’t mind it.

Oh, he didn’t mind it, that’s for sure. In fact, he was enjoying it. Although it was taking everything in him not to wrap his arm around your shoulders and keep you close.

“Look,” you pointed at the sun that was starting to peek from where the bay ended in your perspective. And there it was, the sun slowly and magnificently rising above the waters. As much as Peter didn’t want to let go of your hand, he needed both of his hands to capture the moment. You glanced at him as you wanted to watch his reaction to his first time witnessing the sunrise. And while his face was covered by his camera as he took a picture of the scene, you saw his lips form a peaceful smile. You found yourself looking back at the sun with the same peaceful smile on your lips.

You knew he was done taking pictures when the once-darkened place was brightened up by the star that was the sun. It was evident since he lowered the camera from his face and adjusted the strap to let it hang by his neck comfortably. What you didn’t know, though, was that before he put his camera down, he sneakily took a photo of your face joined by the hues of the sun.

“This is our secret spot now,” said Peter.

“Yup,” you laughed. “So, coffee?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he teased, offering his hand for you to take.

Peter brought you to a little cafe not far from the park, it was located near a library which you reminded yourself you would visit some other time in the future.

You were taking your last sip of coffee when you heard the familiar click of his camera. This time you actually posed a peace sign for the picture. Peter chuckled at this, and in return, it made you laugh as well. He seized the opportunity to take another picture.

Click.

“It's nice here… the staff, the view, the ambiance, the food, and of course, the coffee,” you commented.

“So, now you get why this is my favorite coffee shop?”

“Correction. This is our favorite coffee shop now.”

DAY 5.

The next day, you met up back at your studio apartment. After your usual morning greetings and coffees, both of you were busy doing your own paintings. You looked over at Peter, seeing him so focused on his painting. You suddenly had an idea.

After one last stroke to complete the body of the faceless person you were painting, you stopped. You stood up and went to the table where Peter put his camera on. He didn’t notice you, he was too busy to even notice you standing. You carefully and quietly put the strap over your head and adjusted it to your comfort. You walked little steps towards him, positioning yourself just behind him where you could see his back as he worked on his painting on one of your easels. You adjusted your eye to the viewfinder and just when you found the perfect view, you clicked its shutter.

Click.

The familiar click of his camera forced his eyes to look away from his painting. He looked quizzically at you. When he realized what you were doing, he smiled widely as he carefully put his paintbrush in a brush holder.

“What are you doing?” he laughed. God, you loved his face when he laughed. You couldn’t resist clicking the shutter for the second time.

“Nothing,” you chuckled. “Just continue what you’re doing. You’ll be the painter and I’ll be the photographer for today.”

Moments later, you probably had circled around Peter just to make sure you could capture every angle of him painting. He was smiling for most of them.

“Am I even doing this right?” he asked, gesturing for you to look at his painting.

You stood beside the stool he was sitting on. “You’re doing great. But I think you should blend this area a little bit more,” you said, moving closer as you pointed out the area you were talking about. “And you might want to go softer on your brush.”

“Have I told you how attractive you are when you teach me these things?” he said suddenly.

That caught you off guard, and you weren’t sure what to do so you just looked at him with an awkward smile. Peter didn’t know where his confidence came from, but all of a sudden, he dipped his pointer finger into the orange paint on his palette and smeared it on your cheek. Your mouth widened with shock but you immediately did the same thing to him. And so, you two had a full-on fight which ended up with both your clothes and faces covered with colorful paints.

“Oh, I have to take pictures of this,” he stated before running to the sink and washing his hands so he could hold his camera and not worry about smearing paint on it.

He got back quickly, asking you to do silly poses as he took your pictures. You did the same to him, instructing him to do ridiculously funny poses when you took his pictures. After a while, he set the camera down on a table facing the two of you and set it on a timer so he could take photos of both of you together. You two were having so much fun that none of you even cared or noticed that some of the poses you did were both of you being too close to each other’s bodies.

That was how the day went for the two of you. Covered with paint and indelible memories with each other.

And maybe even growing feelings towards one another.

DAY 6.

Same time, same place, different day.

“Your painting fully dried overnight,” you said excitedly as you opened the door for him. “Would you like to see it?”

“Well–good morning to you too,” he giggled. “Actually, can I go to the bathroom first? I really need to pee.”

“Oh-yes, of course,” you smiled, letting him inside. “It’s up there in the loft beside the bed. It’s the only bathroom so it’s not hard to find.”

As Peter went to pee, you decided to find a painting of yours similar to his sunrise. You were thrilled to show it to him.

You held your painting behind your back as Peter exited the bathroom and went to see his finished painting. “You can touch it,” you reminded him when you saw how his fingers hesitated to touch the canvas in fear of ruining what he’d done. He finally touched it, picking it up with his hand and stroking the piece of art with the other as he admired it. He did this. With his hands.

“It’s beautiful,” you commented. “You seem to be a natural. It doesn’t look like it was your first time. I’m proud of you.”

“Well, I had the best mentor, so…” he smirked. “But in all honesty, thank you so much. For introducing me to painting, for teaching me how to paint, for your wise words—everything. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you said before remembering the piece of art behind your back. “I have something I want to show you. But I’m getting tired just standing, so let’s sit on the couch.”

Once you both settled on the couch, you showed him your painting of the sunset. You put it side by side with his sunrise and it created a perfect contrast together. The same sun, taken from the same secret spot on top of that little hill, but at different times of the day.

“Unbelievable. They’re almost the same,” he whispered, wonder-struck. “May I ask why you painted a sunset?”

“I painted this during one of the hardest days in my life. Why a sunset? A sunset because it reminds me that even though the day is hard, there is an end to the day. A sunset… because it represents the opportunity to rest. It reminds me that if the sun can rest after a tiring day, then there is nothing wrong with closing your eyes for even just a moment.”

He looked at you with deep understanding. “Why did you paint a sunrise?” you asked.

“I’ve always known that a sunrise meant the start of another day. But only when I started to paint it and connect with it did I realize that there is more to that. Why a sunrise? A sunrise because it reminds me that another day isn’t only another ‘day’. It’s also another chance to live and take risks. A sunrise… because it represents the opportunity to start again. It reminds me that if the sun could come back up after a long dark night, then I can too.”

Your eyes glistened with tears as he said those words but you didn’t let him see it. Art really was a voice that spoke beyond thoughts and words. Those paintings weren’t just paintings, they were experiences. Your sunset was a symbol of rest—what you have always wanted to have after all those years. His sunrise was a symbol of hope—what he was searching for for the longest time.

You ended up framing the paintings and hanging them on your wall beside each other. Together, they created the most beautiful contrasting artwork. The two paintings became one—it was like they were always meant to be beside each other.

Click.

“You know, I went through the photos you took while I was painting. They’re really good. The angles? they’re perfect. If you ever want to change careers, just tell me,” he joked.

“I think I’ll stick to painting,” you chuckled. “But thank you, I mean, I had a great mentor so that’s probably why the photos turned out good.”

“You mean me? I didn’t even teach you as far as I can remember.”

“Well, not literally. But when you take pictures, I observe you and the ways you hold the camera. So, I definitely got my ‘skill’ from you,” you admitted.

“You observe me?”

You noticed his lips slowly form a smirk and only then did you realize what you just revealed. “Uhh-let’s not m-make it a big d-deal,” you nervously laughed, feeling the anxiety creep up on you. You never knew how to deal with social situations like this. When things went awkward or you didn’t know what to say, you ran. Hence why you never had a long-time friend. Peter was the only one you lasted this long with.

“I was just teasing you,” he smiled, stroking your arms with his hands to calm you down. You didn’t know how he knew you were slightly panicking on the inside. But somehow, he did. And then he smiled at you with the softest and most caring smile you’d ever seen and suddenly the anxiety and the panic shifted into a feeling of comfort.

You had never felt like this before.

Seconds turned into minutes, minutes turned into hours, and almost in an instant, the once bright day outside your windows turned into a dark night.

Time really did fly when you were with someone you loved.

Loved.

None of you would admit it yet, but it was definitely there.

“It’s time for me to go…” he announced.

Before he could fully stand up and start to make his way to the door, you held his wrist to stop him. He looked at you with confusion, but the glint in his eyes said a lot more—he hoped you would ask him to stay.

And that you did.

“You can stay here tonight…” you whispered. “Only if you want to, of course.”

“Do you want me to stay?” he softly asked, glancing at your hand that held his wrist before looking at you again.

“Yes.”

DAY 7.

Different time, same place, different day.

Peter woke up earlier than usual and yet he felt that the sleep he had taken was the most satisfying he ever had. Why? Well, it was because he slept next to you.

Let’s take a few steps back…

Yesterday night when Peter was about to leave, you insisted on letting him stay. He offered to take the couch but you felt guilty that you were about to sleep on a soft mattress while he would sleep on an old couch downstairs so you told him that it was fine if he slept next to you on your bed. He was hesitant because he respected your boundaries but eventually you were able to come to an agreement to put a pillow in between both of you to not make things awkward. None of you knew how it happened, but when you woke up, the pillow was moved to the floor and your hand and his were almost touching. It seemed like your bodies naturally gravitated towards each other—but of course, none of you would admit that. At least not yet.

He quietly made his way down to where you were painting, careful not to disturb you. He grabbed the camera along the way. He would never get tired of capturing photos of you while painting—you were a master of arts in one of their truest forms. You were sitting on a stool with an easel in front.

He pulled the camera close to his face, aligning his good eye with the viewfinder. He adjusted the lens, zooming it in your hand that held a really old—it seemed to be your favorite—paintbrush. But before he could click the shutter, he noticed how your hands were shaking as you stared at the painting. He immediately put down his camera and stared at it as well and only then did he realize that you haven’t made any progress on your painting today. The painting was almost complete, the only thing missing was the face of the man in the middle. Up until now, he was still faceless.

“You know, this is the longest it’s taken me to paint a person,” you said, feeling his presence behind you. “It’s just a face. Why is it so hard?” you sighed with shaking lips. You were battling the tears that threatened to fall from your eyes.

For the first time ever, he didn’t know how to reply.

“No–don’t answer that,” you let out a breathy laugh, but there was pain underneath. “That was a rhetorical question. Of course, I know why it’s so hard.”

With shaking hands that you tried so hard to steady, you started coloring the face with a skin tone color that matched the rest of the man’s body.

One stroke.

He didn’t know what to say, but hopefully, he knew what to do. Peter moved beside you, intertwining his right hand with your left as you painted with your right.

Two strokes.

You felt him squeeze your hand, doing his best to comfort you.

Three strokes.

Painting the structure of the face was done. Now onto the details of the face.

You closed your eyes, trying to dig up the memories you had with this man. But it was hard since the man you were painting only stayed for a little while in your life.

You opened your eyes, picking out a thin paintbrush that was perfect for little details. You started with the lips.

One stroke.

Peter’s presence was giving you not only comfort but courage as well.

Two strokes.

And then another.

The pinkish-red lips stared at you from the painting. You let out a breath. Next was the nose.

You picked up your pencil to draw some lines for a little bit. You only did some to serve as your guide. Next, you cleaned the thin paintbrush before dipping it in another color—black.

One stroke.

You followed the lines you drew. But they were just lines, you have to paint the details to actually make the nose specific from the rest.

Two strokes.

And then you did some shadows with the outlines to blend them with the skin. It was done.

“I think I’ll continue later,” you sighed sadly, squeezing his hand. “I need to take a breather. S-sorry this is hard for me.”

“It’s okay,” he smiled, squeezing your hand back. “Do you want me to join you?” he softly asked.

“No-I want to be alone for a moment,” you smiled to show him you appreciated his concern.

He watched you leave and was alone for a moment. He glared at the painting, wondering what this person could have done to hurt you this much. How could someone even hurt the most precious person to ever walk on earth?

He heard the door open loudly, making him turn immediately. You were at the other side of the door, looking up at him with your eyes red evidently from crying. He walked past everything—the table and the clutter on the floor—hastily just so he could hug you.

He carefully closed the door as you leaned into him. Your body was weak due to repressed emotions now releasing all at once. He noticed your knees slowly giving up and he guided both of you to sit on the floor.

The camera, the photos, the paintbrush, the painting—all were forgotten the moment he wrapped his arms around you. He cradled your face with his hands, brushing your cheek and wiping your tears.

“I’m a mess,” you said, sniffing.

“You’re beautiful,” he responded, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Do you want to talk about it?” he cooed.

“Will it help?”

“I think so. But it’s still up to you,” he replied honestly.

You nodded. “I know you have questions, ask them.”

“Who’s the man in the painting?”

“My father. Or at least what I remember of him.”

His back was resting on the wall as you leaned into his side, his arm was still wrapped around you.

“And the house in the background, is that your family’s house?”

“It’s the orphanage. I spent my whole childhood there. That’s where I grew up.”

“Did he visit you there?”

“No,” you laughed painfully. “Remember what I told you before? That the best thing about painting is that I can paint whatever I want to see or happen? That painting is one of them.”

He was listening intently. He didn’t want to say anything because he knew that you didn’t want any advice at the moment, you just wanted a listener.

“I never met my mother. The caregivers at the orphanage told me she died when she birthed me. When I asked them how I got there they told me about my father. He took care of me for 4 months, and then I think his heart broke whenever he saw my face because I looked a lot like my mother. It came to a point where he couldn’t look at me or care for me anymore so he put me in that orphanage. I guess the heartbreak was bigger than the joy that I brought.

“I always imagined him visiting me, getting me out of that place, and bringing me home. But that didn’t happen. So I coped with drawing and painting. Until now, I still wonder what could’ve happened if he came back for me… hence why I’m doing the painting.”

“Do you have any pictures of him?” he asked.

“I only had one. It was a picture of my parents at their wedding. I used to stare at it every day until I lost it and I would never forgive myself for being so careless back then. The last time I held that picture and stared at it was when I was 7. It’s been too long and I can’t seem to remember his face that much.”

“Is that why it’s so hard for you to paint his face?”

“Yes. But also because of the realization that my wishes only come true in my paintings. I wanted him to come back for me or at least visit me. I didn’t get that visit, so I’m getting it in the painting.”

“Have you tried looking for him?”

You nodded. “Of course. But you can’t find who doesn’t want to be found.”

“Did you at least have any people who cared for you like a parent?” he asked, sympathy evident in his expression.

“I had this one particular caregiver who made me experience what it was like to have a mother. She was the one who gave me my first paintbrush and painting set. She was the one who made me discover that I had a talent for drawing and painting.

“But she didn’t stay for long because she had to leave the orphanage permanently to take care of her own family. She told me something happened and she had to take care of a little boy.”

Peter’s face furrowed from the familiarity of that exact situation, but he let it slide eventually. This was your story, this wasn’t about him.

“I have some questions for you too,” you chuckled. Tears were no longer falling on your face. Peter was right again. Indeed, talking about your past helped.

“Shit. Do I have to get nervous?” he joked.

“It depends on what your answers are gonna be,” you joked back. “How did you get your camera? Did you buy it or is it from someone you look up to?”

“The answer is the latter. I had a teacher once in high school, he wasn’t a professional photographer but we shared the same interests. I remember the first time he stepped into the room to teach English but instead of focusing on him the first thing I noticed was his DSLR camera. It was kept and hidden in a bag but I know a camera bag when I see one. I think, over time, he noticed I was always glancing at his camera that one day he called me to stay after his class and gave it to me. He told me that I needed it more.”

“Were you two close?” you asked.

“We were, yeah.”

“Where is he now?”

“He died a year ago. He’s gone now but I still treasure every lesson he’s taught me.”

“And your parents?”

“They died when I was 4 from a plane crash. Since then, I stayed with my aunt before she was gone too.”

“I’m sorry, Pete. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s fine. I feel comfortable around you—the heavy things don’t feel as heavy anymore.”

Silence surrounded the apartment, calming the two of you as you held each other. No one needed to speak at the moment, just you in his arms were enough.

Day almost turned into night and you finally stood up.

“You don’t have to finish it today,” he said as he noticed you staring at the painting anxiously.

“I know. But I want to.”

“Okay,” he smiled. “Then I’ll be there with you.”

He walked towards you and intertwined his hand with yours.

“Thank you.”

Together, you walked until you were in front of the easel again. He picked up the paintbrush and held it in front of you. He gave you an encouraging look and you smiled as you took the brush with courage.

“Here we go.”

You did the eyebrows first, it didn’t take you as long as you did when you did the nose and lips.

The eyes.

The hardest part because the eyes were what looked into the soul.

One stroke.

Two strokes.

Three strokes.

You weren’t shaking anymore.

Four strokes.

Five strokes.

“You can do it,” Peter encouraged.

Six strokes.

Seven Strokes.

“You’re doing great,” his hand held yours tighter.

The last stroke.

You did it. You painted your father. You remembered his face. And above all, you painted him in front of the orphanage, coming back to get you.

You smiled.

Peter stiffened beside you. His eyes widened as he looked at your father in the painting.

“Peter?” you called his name.

He stayed unmoving.

“Pete? Are you okay?”

“That’s him…” he pointed at your father.

You were confused. “Who?”

“My teacher in high school. The one I told you about. The one who gave me my camera,” he collected his camera from the table. “The one who gave me this.”

You were speechless and shocked to the core. “Are you sure?”

“It makes sense now,” he continued. “He once told me in our conversations that the greatest mistake he’d ever made was leaving something he loved because he was so scared he would never be deserving of it.”

You didn’t know what to feel.

“But now I realize, he wasn’t talking about a ‘thing’, he was talking about someone. You.”

“Did he try to come back for me?” you asked, curious but you weren’t hopeful.

“I-I don’t know… I’m sorry.”

“I-It’s okay,” you sniffed, wiping your cheeks. Funny, you weren’t even sure when the tears started to cascade down on them.

“You mentioned your teacher died last year, right? That means he’s…”

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” he softly spoke, even his eyes couldn’t help but tear up slightly.

“It’s not your fault. Besides, he wasn’t even there for me for most of my life. It’s fine,” you reasoned, telling him it was all good but another tear still slipped from your eye.

He hugged your side and stayed like that for a good while as he tried to think of another subject to talk about to keep you from hurting any longer. His eyes caught the brush holder and focused on an old paintbrush that you use almost every time. It seemed to be your favorite. The marks on the wooden handle told him the age of the brush; the bristles that were still intact and usable told him just how much you take care of your art supplies.

“That paintbrush… you use it every time, is that your favorite?” he already knew the answer but he still asked just to distract you.

You didn’t need to follow where his eyes were looking or ask him anything, you already knew the brush he was talking about. “Yes, it is my favorite. Remember when I told you I had this caregiver in the orphanage that gave me my first painting set and paintbrush?” you said before picking up the brush. “This is the paintbrush.”

“You must’ve taken good care of it all these years,” he commented.

“I did. It’s special and it holds a lot of good memories.”

“What’s your favorite memory?” he asked, interested.

“Me as a little kid doing my first painting with my caregiver. She was encouraging me every step of the way.”

“What’s her name?”

“May.”

His eyes widened with realization. He remembered asking his aunt what her job was before she took him in after the incident that killed his parents. She had told him she was a caregiver at an orphanage. But the city is wide and big, it never occurred to him that that orphanage was the same one you were from.

“May Parker,” he breathed out.

You looked at him. “Yes! That’s her–I forgot her last name but that’s her. Do you know her?”

“She’s my aunt.”

Now everything made sense and all the why’s were answered. No wonder why you felt a sense of familiarity the first time he put his camera down and you saw his face. No wonder why your heart jumped when you learned his name. May Parker… Peter Parker… holy shit. How come you didn’t notice that before?

“You’re the little boy she always talked about. Her little nephew who loved taking pictures so much,” you said, eyes once again starting to tear up.

“And you’re the little painter girl she always mentioned,” he smiled. “She promised me she would introduce me to you but life got busy and that never happened.”

“But look at us now. I guess fate still found its way to introduce us to each other,” you stated softly.

Peter once again cradled your face with his hands, slowly stroking your cheeks with his thumbs. “Can I tell you something?” he asked.

“Of course.”

“That day I met you at the park, I was at my ending point with photography. That day, I was determined to find the last project worthy of my dying passion. Then I met you. And in just a matter of days, I knew you, and it changed my life,” he started.

“You taught me lessons about art and life. You gave me something I’ve been trying to get back for a long time—hope.

“Above all, you made me remember why I even started taking pictures. You made me realize my purpose. I know now that I never lost the flame, the candle just stopped burning. But you… you rekindled it and suddenly it was back again… and it’s stronger and hotter than ever.

“Now, I can admit, to anyone and myself, I love photography. This is my passion. It’s not just the flame… but the fire within me that sways with the wind.”

He felt your hands gently wrap around his wrists as he continued caressing your face. “Oh, Peter…” you whispered.

“T-there is something beyond words that I feel for you. I-I don't know how to properly say it but I’m still gonna try,” he whispered back. “You’re not just the muse of my favorite pictures, you are my camera. Without you, I’m unable to reach my full potential. You’re the perfect angle I’ve always wanted to find. And now that I’ve found you… everything makes sense. The blank spaces in my heart and in my life aren’t blank anymore because your name is now written all over them.”

You moved closer so your forehead could touch his. “And you, Peter… are the colors that I paint on my canvases. The sunrise to my sunset. Ever since you came, the meaningless life I had before became meaningful.”

Silence surrounded you for a moment. Your foreheads were still touching while both your eyes were closed. Tears stained both your cheeks as the two of you couldn’t stop crying out of adoration and love for each other.

“All the ones who guided us are gone now,” you breathed out.

He placed a long kiss on your forehead before speaking.

“From now on, it’s only you and I.”

After uncovering the past and embracing the present, you were looking forward to the future.

It truly was amazing how art could connect people together.

The hopeless photographer was once again hopeful;

The restless painter wasn’t exhausted anymore.

And soon the two of you would realize that the love you shared was a testament of…

Interlacing fates,

Intertwining lines,

and

Connecting arts.

SLYTHERHEIGN TAGLIST: @writingstoraes @joshiiieeenesx

TASM!PETER PARKER TAGLIST: @mymilkducts @i-am-woman-strong @lauraneedstochill @jeanettexkillian @ms-mandalore @enaraism @alessandralol @sad-darksoul @sincericida @mentallystablepotato @mich0731 @logolepsic-insomniac @k0miiki @dreamsarecloserwithyou @jumilzzz @primroseparker @preciousbabypeter @myheartonthemove @rebecca-johnson-28 @silkholland @ellievickstar @okkulta @geekygamerchick @starqwerty20 @the-quiet-observer @softiepeterpan @willowhaired @sflame15-blog

me, as the author, connecting with the story through writing is further proof of how art connects us all together. i can only hope that i wrote this well so that you can connect with it too through reading. thank you all for being patient, this is for all of you.

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jjkamochoso · 8 months ago

Text

The Perfect Fit

Overview: Levi Ackerman begrudgingly finds himself falling in love with the Survey Corps’ seamstress. Will they be able to own up to their feelings for each other? Or is their love doomed to fail before they discover the truths of each other’s hearts? This slow burn reader insert story will be filled with angst, yearning, and a bit of mystery as we slowly unravel the truths behind Y/N’s past… and explore her and Levi’s future!

Chapter 11

Series Masterlist

Chapter 10 linked here

Chapter 12 linked here

Levi Ackerman x female reader

Warnings: cussing

You looked at Levi expectantly. "What do you say, Captain? Ready to run away with me?"

Levi couldn't deny that he was craving a change of scenery as well. With his injuries, he couldn't participate in training and the four bland walls of his office combined with never ending paperwork was enough to make even the most sane man mad. He also really liked the way those words sounded coming from your mouth. He knew he had a duty to humanity and could never drop his responsibilities to run away from it all and live a more peaceful life, but boy, he'd enjoy playing pretend with you for a little while, focusing on humanitarian duties rather than fighting for once.

"I'm ready to leave right now if you are."

You broke out in a smile, relieved that he still wanted to help you give away blankets and clothes to people in the unfortunate areas of the interior.

"Good. I am too, but the paperwork that allows us to take leave and horses isn't. I have to talk to Erwin and see when we can go. I'm thinking as long as you're cleared by the doctor, we can head out in 3 days' time. Is that alright?"

Levi nodded yes and you told him to get some rest before leaving to find your oldest friend, the commander. When you knocked on the door, he granted you entry and you closed the door behind you.

"How's my dearest friend been holding up lately?" Erwin asked you as you two shared a hug before taking a seat.

"Oh, I've been alright, nothing too crazy," you answered. "How about yourself? You've got a lot more going on than I ever have or hope to."

He took a sip of the drink on his desk and you wouldn't be surprised if it was some sort of alcohol.

"It's as much to be expected for the man in charge." His blue eyes danced around the room, not meeting your own. "It's nothing I can't handle. It's... a lot sometimes, though. I become afraid that no matter how much I try to do, it's all futile. I have so many goals that I can't-" He cut himself off as he swallowed another drink and you took notice of the deep eye bags he was sporting. You knew he had a lot riding on him, but he usually handled (or hid) it so well. You reached out to grip his hand as a sign of affection.

"I know you're in charge, but you're not the only one who should be held accountable for any failings, so stop blaming yourself. What you guys do is a thankless job but you're not without so many accomplishments. It seems like it's always one step forward, three steps back working here, but if there's anything I learned from you, it's that you have to keep walking. So, Erwin.” He looked up at you. "You have to keep moving forward. You're the heart of the Scouts. You're the only one whose faith has never wavered. We all believe in you."

Erwin let out a deep sigh and squeezed your hand back. "Thank you. I needed that. This is why I keep you around."

You chuckled, happy that you were able to lift his spirits a little bit.

"I know you didn't come here to see me wallow in pity, so what is it I can do to help?" he inquired.

"I'm planning on leaving for Wall Sina to do my charity work in a few days and I was wondering if I could borrow a cart and horse. I'd be gone about 10 days, 4 days traveling each way, 1 day passing everything out, and an extra in case something goes wrong. I was also coming to put in my request for leave, as well as Captain Levi's since he'll be accompanying me."

Erwin's eyebrows raised at the sound of his close friend's name. "Levi, huh? I've noticed that you two have gotten pretty close but he wouldn't leave work with just anybody, you know. He must think you're pretty special."

You felt embarrassment worm its way up your body as Erwin tried to contain his teasing smile. The commander's two closest friends couldn't fool him--Levi hadn't been this outwardly affectionate since he had shown up with Isabelle and Furlan all those years ago and you hadn't been this smiley with anyone, ever-- but he found the whole thing endearing.

"I'm not trying to embarrass you, y/n. I think it's nice that he's found something with you, whatever it is. I haven't seen either of you this happy in many years, or ever. This trip of yours will be good for the both of you to get out and do something for the betterment of humanity. It would bring some much needed positivity to you and the captain, I'm sure. I'll process the papers and send you on your way in no time."

You thanked him as you heard a knock at the door. Another soldier had told Erwin it was time for a meeting so you thanked him for his help and waved goodbye. You were held up at the door by the sound of his voice once more.

"Hey, y/n. Where exactly in Wall Sina are you going?"

You tilted your head in confusion. "There's the shelters in the capital that house citizens from the Underground until they can safely leave for Wall Rose. They're the same ones you and I usually go to. Why?"

He halted for a second, choosing his words carefully. "Well, with Levi there, I don't want... Just try to avoid the Underground. I don't want you two getting hurt."

You didn't understand what he was trying to get at, but you figured it wasn't the time for you to probe him. If the chance arrived, you would have to ask Levi exactly what Erwin meant. You thanked him for his warning and left, wracking your brain on what that enigma of a man was going on about.

Several days after your meeting with Erwin, he had told you everything got approved and Levi told you of his clearance from the doctor. You were to leave in a few hours so you began packing, your stomach fluttering with anxiety. You always got nervous before a trip but this one was stressful because of its unknowns. You had never traveled between walls without Erwin and his words hadn't left your mind. Why did he mention you getting hurt? You'd been there plenty of times prior with the blonde man, none of which had gone wrong, so why was he being cryptic about Levi? You tried to shake it from your head. Erwin had been under tons of stress lately so you chalked it up to him still reeling from the losses of the expedition. You had just thrown the last of your shirts in a bag when you heard a knock at your door. Levi was there, a duffel on his arm and a surprisingly pleasant look on his face.

"I'm ready if you are."

You were. You had already brought outside the bags of donation items so all that was left was your personal bag. You went to pick it up from the bed but Levi beat you to it.

"Aren't you still nursing broken ribs?" you asked, watching him in amusement as he shuffled down the hallway with both of your belongings.

"The doctor cleared me for all activity. I would be training shitty cadets to be less shitty right now if it weren't for you."

"Should I be saying you're welcome that you're not?"

Levi pondered for a second. "Four eyes is always saying I need a vacation."

"Their wish is now granted. So you're welcome," you replied, giggling a bit. When you stepped outside, you were expecting to be greeted by an open air cart, but instead, you were face to face with a fancy contained carriage. You thought maybe it was for someone else, but when Levi started loading your things inside, you knew it was for you.

"Did you know about this?" you asked him, flabbergasted. He put away the last of the bags as he answered you.

"The weather's supposed to be bad in a few days. I didn't want you catching a cold on our trip so I made Erwin reserve this instead."

Levi never failed to surprise you. He was so kind the way he thought about you and made your life so much easier. You nearly kissed him on the spot but didn't want him to keel over and die before you could get anywhere. The raven haired man wouldn't look you in the eye as you climbed inside the carriage, presumably shy about his caring so much about your wellbeing. The carriage driver took off and you two left the castle walls. You kept your eyes pointed out the window, not wanting to miss the opportunity to watch the foliage pass you by. It was your favorite part about riding in a cart or on a horse while holding onto someone else. Seeing the trees fly by you in this area almost reminded you of Levi taking you home that one day all those months ago. This carriage should have brought up that same feeling of freedom, but this time you were heading toward a place that had held you in its wretched confines for far too long. As you rode further and further away from your home and closer to your family in Mitras, you felt like you were starting to drown in a deep ocean of melancholy and stress. As you were lost in your own world, you didn't notice Levi staring at you from his bench across from yours. He was thankful that you were day dreaming because it meant he could observe you without hesitation. You normally looked very beautiful to him, but today, in your civilian clothes and more relaxed hairstyle than usual, you looked absolutely stunning. Even though this trip certainly wasn't just for pleasure, he was looking forward to a short break from the woes of every day life. He was hoping you were, too, but he saw your eyebrows furrow and you had a sad glint in your eye.

"Wanna talk about it?"

Levi's voice brought you out of your daze.

"Hmm? Oh. No, I just-- I get nervous on trips, that's all," you said. If Levi could tell you weren't giving him the whole truth, he didn't say anything.

You sighed, opting to speak your mind a bit more. "When I leave my home and head into the city, I get hit with this indescribable sadness. I think it's because I see people who have literally nothing and I can't help but think I'm not doing enough for them when I have so much."

"Don't be stupid. The fact that you're going out of your way to show kindness when others don't is a testament to your character. What you're doing will be appreciated by those who need it most. Trust me."

He spoke with such conviction that you wondered if he was ever one of those people who needed help. You didn't give it much thought since it was rude to make assumptions about someone's past.

"You always know exactly what to say to make me feel better, Levi. Thank you."

He scoffed. "I think you're the only person that's ever said that."

"That makes it all the more special then, doesn't it?" you asked, making him roll his eyes but you knew he agreed.

The carriage continued on its fast pace while you two sat in silence, both reading books. You kept peeking your eyes over the pages, taking the time to appreciate how Levi looked today. He never looked anything less than handsome to you, but him out of a uniform made your heart beat faster. He was wearing a long sleeve shirt with black pants and both items highlighted his frame perfectly. You loved the way he looked with the cravat but you were mesmerized with the graceful way his neck craned without something covering it up. He shifted in his seat and you quickly averted your eyes, hoping he hadn't seen you checking him out.

"Is your book that boring you'd rather look at me?" he asked, his gaze staying on his own unturned pages.

"Boring, no. Rather look at you, definitely," you said, taking the fact that you got caught in stride.

"Tch. Have some shame, brat," he chided, a faint blush showing up on his cheeks. You found it fun to tease Levi here and there. You wanted to keep showing him that you found him desirable so he wasn't left wondering if you still liked him romantically or not. Not that physical looks mattered to you two anyway, but you figured it didn't hurt to flirt with him every once in awhile to keep him on his toes. Afternoon turned to night and it got too dark to read, opting to leave the gas lamp off for now to conserve it in case of emergencies. The carriage slowed to a halt and the driver let you know that you were stopping for the night at a local inn. You and Levi exited the carriage, Levi taking your bag once again, and made a plan with the driver to meet up in the morning to set off. A room wasn't ready yet when you checked in so you and Levi went to the restaurant to partake in a nice warm meal. Conversation flowed easily between you two as you tore into the bread and meat you were served. When you finally got a key to your room, you opened the door and immediately frowned. You were supposed to get a room with two beds, but there was only one. You looked at Levi who didn't even seem to notice as he was already inside and discarded the bags in the corner of the room. You followed him in, confusion taking over you.

"There's only one bed," you said, stating the obvious.

"It's fine. I'll sleep on the floor," he replied, grabbing the extra blanket from the bed and laying it out. You stomped over to him, grabbing the soft textile.

"No way, especially not when you're still healing. I can go downstairs and talk to the owner, there has to be another room."

There wasn't. You and Levi had booked the last available room and the one with two beds that you had requested when you had gotten there was previously reserved. When you got back to your room, Levi had already laid down on the floor in an attempt to rest for a little while. You stood over him, your arms crossed.

"Get up, idiot. You're not sleeping on the floor."

"I don't sleep much anyway, idiot. Go to bed."

"If you don't get up, I'm sleeping on the ground, too."

That got Levi's attention, prompting him to sit up. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard and I'm around teenagers all day."

"Look," you said, defeated, "the bed is more than big enough for the two of us. You'll have your personal space and I promise I won't invade it on purpose."

Levi took his sweet time thinking about what he was going to do while you were loving life on the plush mattress, your pajamas on, and cozy under the covers. You heard the mattress creak as his body took up the spot next to yours.

"Finally decided to join me, loverboy?" You were joking with him to cover up the fact that you were nervous about sharing an entire sleeping space with the love of your life. Normally, sharing a bed with someone wouldn't be a huge deal, especially when that someone was a person who you trusted with your life, but Levi was a special case. You never wanted to push him into doing anything too fast or make him uncomfortable and you knew that relationship things like this could easily freak him out.

"I will not hesitate to snuff out your life with this pillow."

Well, at least he was acting like his normal self. He was, up until you heard shuffling under the sheets and felt the mattress dip down closer to you. It was nearly pitch black in the room so you couldn't see anything, but you felt your breath hitch in your throat as Levi scooted close enough to your face where you caught a glimpse of the faintest reflection of moonlight in his eyes. His breath was barely fanning over your arm that was lying next to your cheek on your pillow. All of a sudden you felt his hand on yours as he interlaced your fingers. It was a good thing that the room had no light because you were both flustered messes.

"Is this okay?" he whispered.

"Very," you whispered back, brushing your lips over the back of his hand like a kiss from a fleeting ghost. Even though Levi barely slept that night because of his ever present insomnia rearing its ugly head, lying next to you, with your bodies eventually intertwining, he found himself more rested than he ever knew could be possible.

Chapter 12

Taglist: @blueeclipsepaperstudent @raginginferno267 @come-away-with-me87

#levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x female reader #levi angst #levi fluff #levi aot #captain levi #levi ackerman x reader angst #levi ackerman x reader fluff

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nitw · 2 months ago

Note

do you wanna rant at me about the anime boys ? i am vaguely curious about them. mostly for the (con)text of them and your feelings about them (other than "[gnashing teeth keysmash] I'M OKAY [eats them]")

LMAOOO thank you i love when people invite me to yap............... i'll try to keep it as simple as possible in case you uhhhh 👉👈 feel like checking out alien stage yourself som,etime. teehee

FIRST OF ALL, QUICK SYNOPSIS:

alien stage is an animated music project on youtube co-produced by animators vivinos and q-meng, with assistance from multimedia studio lico

it's set on a different planet than earth, in a far future where aliens have dominated humans. it's fucked up!!

it specifically focuses on a broadcasted singing competition where humans (who are born and raised to perform - literally think of them as show dogs) compete against each other by elimination. and i mean literal elimination. whoever gets less votes dies onstage. it's fucked up!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

there are 6 main characters, and each music video delves into their backgrounds and relationships with each other. there's a lot of drama and grief and horror!!!!!! 👍👍👍👍

ANYWAY THE GAYBOYS

this is TILL:

voiced by AKUGETSU who sounds like if an electric guitar was a person

rowdy punk guy who does everything he can to express his individuality. comes off as rude and intimidating sometimes but he's really just an insecure mess. also he never did anything wrong ever in his life

a prodigy at songwriting and playing guitar! (he also plays the recorder but we don't rlly get to see that much)

his guardian alien (urak) is an abusive piece of shit who has sent multiple kids to die in the competition before till, without succession

often seen restrained and/or beat up. my guy cannot catch a break

has a huge embarrassing crush on one of the other characters, his childhood friend mizi. but it's been made very clear at this point that it's more of an idealistic fantasy than anything - he never actually got to know her well and just yearns for her attention. also mizi is a lesbian and she's got her own angst to deal with </3

i don't know what's going on with his neck and at this point i'm too afraid to ask

HE SHOULD BE AT THE CLUBBB HE DESERVES LITERALLY ANYTHING BETTER THAN THIS

i like when his face goes (╬◣Д◢)

and this is IVAN:

voiced by PARK BYEONG HOON who 💗 💗 💞 💕 😻 ❤️ 💗 💓 💖 💕 💕 💖 💘 💕 💗 💓 😍 😍 🥰 💕 🥰 ❤️ ❤️‍🔥 💕 hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

came from a very hostile background until he was auctioned off to his current guardian (unsha) - a wealthy businessman who treats him more like a priced object than anything - and was then trained for the competition like the rest

kinda monotone. mysterious freak. no one knows what his fucking problem is at first

secretly a ticking time bomb bottling up all his sadness until he's ready to explode in the most dramatic way possible

formed a DEEP UNREQUITED OBSESSION with till which he hasn't let go since he was like 5 years old. i have to respect it

tried to escape from captivity with till once as kids. till hesitated at the last second. * Ivan will remember that.

he sucks he's the worst i cry about him every day

i like when his face goes (⇀ヮ↼˶)

i don't wanna spoil too much because the series is really worth watching BUT basically these two tragic dudes have spent their whole lives together, doing advanced emotional parkour tricks to distance themselves from the inevitability of it all, and it does NOT work in their favor!!!!! in fact it just makes everything more complicated and terrible and sad and oh god i will never be able to look at the colors green and red together the same way again

#this genuinely got longer than i thought it would . youre welcome #asks #ghost-orion #ivantill #alnst #alien stage

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gnomewithalaptop · 9 months ago

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I am once again thinking about my Reverse Falls plot bunny where Canon!Dipper switches places with his Rev Falls counterpart

Just hear me out! Like -- the dynamics would be so good. Because in either universe, the twins know each other better than anybody else, right? They've known each other their entire lives! So they'd obviously realize something was up pretty quickly, but the way that goes down would vary wildly depending on the combo you've got going on

That's why I really want Canon!Dipper in the Reverse universe -- out of the two of them, I definitely think he could "fake it til you make it" a bit longer than Mabel, but I also think the potential dynamics between him and Rev!Pacifica and Rev!Gideon would be fascinating to see play out. Cause like, let's be real: that kid can hold some grudges, and he's pretty pessimistic when it comes to people and second chances (at least compared to Mabel). I can see him having a really hard time wrapping his head around the personality shifts and trusting Pacifica and Gideon with anything -- which would only make things harder, since they'd already be predisposed to hating his guts. But also, just the idea of Dipper trying to navigate a strange world where his family is full of manipulative bastards and the entire town seems terrified of him makes my inner ten-year-old extremely happy

And then the dynamics with Rev!Dipper and Canon!Mabel would be playing out in tandem with all of this. And the script is completely flipped from Canon!Dipper's, because Mabel doesn't go into this knowing something's wrong. She has to figure that out for herself from context cues, and like. I doubt "evil mirrorverse version of my brother" is going to be her first guess right off the bat. So you get extra wiggle room for Rev!Dipper to get situated as a quasi-antagonist and start screwing things up, and you get fun hijinks while Mabel and the gang make several very wrong choices about what's going on with Dipper

And like. Okay, so: I've always interpreted Reverse!Dipper as somebody who's very pragmatic -- he's very much an "ends justify the means" sort of guy. Don't get me wrong, he's not as vindictive as Canon!Gideon, but he also isn't particularly sentimental either. He's lived his whole life in "every man for himself" mode (with some small exceptions for his sister).

And then I think about combining that kind of mindset with Mabel's unstoppable wave of optimism and endless harebrained schemes where she tries to make things better for a person she doesn't even know that well. And I think about Reverse!Dipper being faced with this realization that his world is dark and cold and uncaring because that's how he relates to the world.

Let's be real: at the end of the day, both sets of twins love each other so fiercely. It's just that the Rev Falls kids have gotten caught up in all these manipulation games and power plays, and once you get caught up in that kind of cycle, it becomes harder and harder to get out again. So I can see this swap having a positive shift on both the Rev Falls kids -- taking them away from their lives and showing them that they don't have to interact with the world this way

I'm thinking about Canon!Dipper seeing the humanity in Rev!Mabel and talking to her straight the way he did to Pacifica in Northwest Mansion Mystery. I think about how she hasn't gotten to be a kid because of the Tent of Telepathy's whole Dance Mom schtick, and finally getting it impressed upon her that that isn't normal. I'm thinking about Canon!Mabel showing Rev!Dipper it's okay to trust people and let them in. That he doesn't have to treat the entire world like it's out to hurt him, doesn't need to strike first to make sure the other guy never gets a chance to

Anyway. This got so long but -- yeah. I yearn for the Gravity Falls Mirror Mirror episode that exists only in my mind

#this-is-gnomes-writing-tag #fic idea #gravity falls #reverse falls #dipper pines #mabel pines #dipper gleeful #mabel gleeful #long post

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maybebitterxox · 18 days ago

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Describing my BTVS OC’s relationships with other characters as poorly as possible

Buffy: Bought in the same box. Do not separate or they will go Insane

Willow: Them gays stick together

Xander: Lmao get loved loser. Get absolutely fucking accepted. I’m appreciating you so hard rn

Giles: Hey dad I mean dad I mean dad I mean

Spike: Violently devoted morally ambiguous fucked up sex with my violently devoted morally ambiguous fucked up lover

Angel: Never have a crush on a dark mysterious guy. He WILL kill you and turn you into a monster for his own sick entertainment. And then feel Really Bad about it

Dawn: Ok look I’ll stop getting beaten up if you stop stealing shit, deal?

Tara: Not only mlm/wlw solidarity but also bigass nerd solidarity

Anya: Sword fight over who is the most autistic

Riley: Oh no he has enchanting eyes. Oh god oh no the yearning oh shit

Faith: Let’s take a smoke break where we both trauma dump and then in like 15 min we can get back to trying to kill each other

Cordelia: We came here to serve cunt and be haters

Oz: Lowkey wanna smoke a blunt with you

#btvs #oc #my oc #buffy the vampire slayer #buffy summers #willow rosenberg #tara maclay #faith lehane #spike #angel btvs #dawn summers #anya jenkins #rupert giles #riley finn #xander harris #daniel osbourne #cordelia chase #my oc stuff

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she-karev · 22 days ago

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Christmas Proposal (Andrew DeLuca x Alex Karev’s Sister Proposal Imagine)

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: One of One

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

Ship: Andrew DeLuca x Amber Karev (Alex Karev’s Sister)

Canon Episode: Season 17 Episode 17

AN: Happy December guys! I decided to post this early before Christmas because I couldn’t resist. Like and reblog below and let me know what you think.

Summary: Andrew and Amber have a Christmas celebration to themselves where Andrew surprises Amber with an engagement ring as a present

Words: 1845

December 25th, 2020

“Wake up, it’s Christmas.” Andrew gleefully says to his sleeping girlfriend in bed. On a day off they would normally sleep in bed all day but since it’s Christmas, DeLuca made it his mission to celebrate this holiday right with the woman he loves.

Amber responds to Andrew’s cheery greeting by pulling the blanket over her head yearning for sleep instead. He chuckles at this rebellious stance before gently pulling the blanket away down to her shoulders. She still has her eyes closed trying to ignore her boyfriend who kisses her cheek.

“Come on sleepyhead.” Andrew lightly shakes Amber who groans keeping her eyes shut, “Don’t you want to see the gifts me and Santa Claus left under the tree?”

“I asked Santa for permission to sleep in for Christmas clearly he didn’t get my letter.”

“He did he just doesn’t give gifts to people on the naughty list.” Andrew teases before pulling the blanket away completely revealing Amber in her green silk button down pajamas, “Now up and at them, those gifts aren’t gonna unwrap themselves.”

Amber groans but reluctantly obeys as she is fully awake now getting out of bed with her boyfriend, “This gift of yours better make up for it, and I expect coffee with a peppermint stick stirrer.”

Andrew and Amber enter the kitchen first where they find Jazz already by his bowl waiting for food. Amber dumps the leftover chicken from last night into the metal dish that their dog salvages up like it’s his last meal. Amber rubs the black tripod’s head affectionately.

“Merry Christmas.” Amber grabs two peppermint sticks from the pantry and waits for Andrew to fill the mugs. He hands her a Grinch head mug filled with their caffeine while he holds his Max the dog head mug. Amber stirs in the peppermint stick handing Andrew his that he puts inside his cup as well. They clink their mugs before sipping their drinks.

“Okay let’s open the gifts so I can sleep in like I am supposed to, lets go.” Amber sips coffee as she and her boyfriend enter the living room where there is a medium sized tree with red and white ornaments sprinkled in fake snow. Under the tree are gift wrapped boxes addressed to each other as well as their family members celebrating Christmas in their respective homes as they all agreed it’s safer due to the pandemic.

Andrew plays ‘Rockin Around The Christmas Tree’ over the home stereo to set the mood before picking up his small gift wrapped box addressed to him from Amber. He closely inspects the box trying to guess what could be inside the thin Christmas gift wrap shaking it to discern the mystery.

“Is it a gift card?” Andrew asks his girlfriend who is sitting on the couch lazily drinking coffee for energy, “Or is it cash that you got from our joint bank account?”

“Just open the damn present please.” Amber tells him grouchy.

Andrew raises an eyebrow at that, “Wow someone’s a real Grinch this year.”

“Ba hum bug.” Amber sarcastically responds pulling her peppermint stick out of her mug and sampling it in her mouth.

Andrew opens his gift, tearing the wrapping before being left with a small white box that he opens revealing his present. A navy-blue scrub cap with constellation print is inside the box and the sight of a personalized piece of headwear for work takes him by surprise. He pulls it out and feels the soft fabric between his fingers before looking at his grumpy girlfriend with a touched smile.

“You got me my very own scrub cap?” Andrew asks Amber with a smile.

Amber shrugs nonchalantly, “The ones at the hospital are plain and they’re pretty itchy after not washing it properly so I figured I should save both of us from headlice. Plus, you said you liked star gazing as a kid and your favorite color is blue so I wanted to combine the two.”

Andrew looks at Amber with love seeing that despite how cool she acts she put a lot of thought into this gift, “It’s a lot of work for a cap Bella. I always knew underneath that hard shell there was a softie.”

“As long as you don’t tell the interns, so they don’t walk all over me.” Amber stands up and finds her gift under the tree. It is a large gold giftwrapped box that makes her happy given its large size.

“Ooh it’s always a good sign when it’s huge. What is it? A laptop? A pair of Gucci shoes?” Amber guesses with a smile before frowning as a dark thought crosses her mind, “Oh god tell me you didn’t get me a puppy left inside a box with no holes all night.”

Andrew chuckles, “Don’t worry it’s not alive or dead, just open it and see what’s inside.”

Amber smiles in delight, “Don’t mind if I do.” She quickly unwraps the gold cover and opens the plain box inside taken back by what’s inside. She pulls out a silver gift wrapped box from inside that takes her by surprise. She looks at Andrew who grins at her expression. Amber decides not to question it and seeks the true gift inside.

Once again, she unwraps and opens the box pulling out another gift box that is smaller than the previous two. Amber groans at yet another gift to unwrap but does so once again before a smaller gift-wrapped square box takes place once again.

“Oh, for the love of Santa!” Amber exclaims growing frustrated while her boyfriend chuckles at this, “Tell me this is the last one because if there is another box inside, I will rip up that very thoughtful scrub cap I got you.”

“It’s the last one I promise, your gift, your real gift is inside that one I swear.” Amber scowls at her boyfriend skeptical, “I swear now come on open it and see what I got you, I put a lot of thought into it.”

“You better have.” Amber unwraps the gift and opens the box reaching inside to grab something while talking, “I’m telling you right now if you got me Russian nesting dolls inside these nesting gift boxes I will…”

Her words stop short once she pulls out a blue leather ring box that feels light in her hands yet carries so much weight as her mind races processing this. Amber takes a moment before opening the small box widening her eyes at the platinum ring tucked inside with the round diamond standing out as it’s accented with two baguette moissanite side stones.

Her brain is able to process that this is the kind of ring you propose with, meaning Andrew’s gift for her is an engagement ring that follows with a proposal. The shocked resident turns around to face Andrew DeLuca and gasps at the sight still holding the small box with their possible future inside it. He is on the floor on one knee and smiling at her before taking her hand that is holding the ring box to hold it in his instead. Andrew looks up at her with so much love feeling that this moment is long overdue.

“I told you I put a lot of thought into it.” Andrew says before starting this moment he has imagined in his head for months now, “But then again there is not much to think about when it comes to loving you and spending the rest of my life with you. From the moment I met you I knew I was done for, even when I spilled coffee on you and almost broke your nose.”

Full Story Link

Amber chuckles at that memory as tears start to form in her eyes while grinning at the man she loves. This moment has her heart taking an extra beat but for the first time it’s not from panic it’s from joy.

“And even when you were rightfully awful to me, I was under your spell Bella. And I have been falling for this snarky, intelligent, sexy and funny woman ever since. You amaze me, you challenge me, you enrage me, you make me feel everything I didn’t think I could feel for one person. And I know this has been a hard year for us and there was a time we didn’t think we could come back to each other.”

Amber remembers that challenging time when Andrew was in the middle of a breakdown and tarnished their relationship as a result. Back then Amber didn’t think she could be with someone like that after the pain her mom and brother put her through.

But eventually she realized that as much as he hurt her when he was manic, he showed her that he is serious about his mental health routine and not going back to that dark time in their lives. After working through her own mental health issues with PTSD and slowly letting her guard down she forgave him and even bought a house with him seeing that he was all in this time.

She can see in this moment that he is more committed to their relationship than ever before as he continues with his proposal as Amber grins with tears glistening in her eyes.

“But we did because you and I are innegibile, we are undeniable and nothing gets in the way of that, not mental illness, not our families no one and nothing makes me question that you are the one for me. We didn’t let our problems break us down we let it make us stronger and better, and I want us to keep doing that for the rest of our lives. So today I ask you a very important question in the privacy of our home where the only opinion that matters is ours.”

Andrew takes the ring box from Amber’s hand and holds it open in front of Amber who has a single tear roll down her cheek at this gesture. He doesn’t feel nervous at this impending question, if anything he feels like it’s a question that has been on the tip of his tongue for three years now.

“Amber Stevie Karev, I love you, I’m in love with you, you’re the love of my life.” Andrew smiles as he asks the most important question in their relationship, “Will you marry me?”

Amber’s vision becomes blurry from the tears before she answers with a wide smile, “Yes.”

Andrew stands up smiling at her answer that he needs to clarify to make sure he’s not dreaming, “Yes?”

“Yes, you gorgeous idiot I’ll marry you come here.” Amber pulls him in for a kiss as tears stream down her cheek in joy before pulling back with both of them smiling. DeLuca slides the engagement ring on her finger causing her to gasp at the perfect fit and how it looks, “Best Christmas ever.”

Andrew nods in agreement looking down at his beloved with so much tenderness, “Best Christmas ever.” They kiss again celebrating this holiday and their engagement.

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apollolovescheesecak · 11 months ago

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touch me, a poem.

(a little poem i wrote about being touch starved, just craving to soothe the ache. hope you guys enjoy!)

touch me.

use your fingers, brush against me as a friend would, a joyous brush against my shoulder in a moment of personal triumph. let me overthink and over complicate every brush, every lingering movement of your flesh against mine. let me feel the pads of your fingers hold my hand, memorizing every crease of my palms as you trace yourself against them, and my memory with it. let your touch be a cooling balm to the raw ache in the center of my being, growing like a cancer in between my ribs. let it also be the poison that worsens it, wounding me anew with the ache of someone who hasn’t yet realized that the feeling of skin against skin was all they needed, like a man never realizing he’s dying of thirst until he stumbles upon an oasis, only to find a mirage of more sand, ever tantalized.

touch me.

kiss my cheeks softly, like judas to jesus before his sacrifice. let my eyes water with the swirling conflicting voids of wanting to be loved, but never wanting to be exposed to do so. let me yearn for your touch, my hands cold without you to warm them. let me hold your face in my hands as you show your devotion to me, the ribbon of your touches binding us together. lay your hands on my head, such as a follower of god does before Her. let me wonder who is really the god or the follower, an ever constant mystery as shadowed in doubt as god Herself.

touch me.

let your touch bloom inside me, the movement the pads of your fingers touching me triggering a garden of eden in my veins. let the moss grow on my bones, let it swell in me as i lay down, becoming earth again, as adam and eve once were. let my body feed the earth as your touch feeds me, nurturing something so much bigger than itself. let your touch spread a supernova inside me, spreading stardust through my flesh and blood. let me stare in wonder and awe as i look into the cosmos of your touch, as vast as the very skies themselves.

touch me.

let your touches be a symphony, a masterwork of instruments that come together seamlessly. touch my hands, my heart, my face. let your hands move, never ceasing. plant a warm dull stabbing pain in me as you run your fingers through my hair. let me press my forehead against yours as we laugh together, drinking in each others joy with vigor. let time stop with your cheeks brushing against mine, wrapping an arm around me as you try to melt into me. let me wake up in your arms, with your back pressed against me. let my head bob up and down softly with the motions of your breathing, feeling more full with love than my heart can contain. let me run my fingers through your hair, laughing with you as he lay down together and talk about nothing using as many words as we can.

please, touch me.

aka: putting on paper how it feels to have the two cars of hating people but also wanting to be loved crashing into each other at 90 mph. see also; neurodivergentcy; or hozier effect.

slightly inspired by the poem “Please Touch Me” by @ineffabildaddy (everything he writes is just absolutely insane) not good omens but it felt wrong not to give them credit where it’s due

tagging my mutuals for constructive criticism @gaykneecaps @gayitalianfish @thetisming @catboyrichardkarinsky

#poetry #the ache of wanting to be loved but also not goes crazy #touch starved #poem

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spookyserenades · 8 months ago

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Hi bestie 🤭 if you had to pick one favorite thing about each hybrid what would it be?

Also this is me formally begging for more cowboy jimin 😩

GUYS THIS IS MY BESTIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (IRL!)

OMG . LETS GO.

Seokjin - how he's constantly worried that Y/N is cold and likes to bundle her up, his quiet sort of watchfulness over her

Yoongi - house husband. also totally whipped for her in a biblical way, the way he waited for her for a year and yearned

Hoseok - always breaking the tension and works hard to build a genuine friendship with Y/N. Has a secret side to him that has been hinted to as well 👹

Namjoon - he's hot his growth tbh, he was a real asshat in the beginning but he's done a lot of maturing, also the way he has softened for her, the gift givinggggggs

Jimin - HES WHIMSICAL! also dream man who can build whatever you want or need. I love that he's also easily flustered by her

Taehyung - his air of mystery I really love, he's a complicated character so constantly guessing about his thoughts and motives is my fave. Also when he bends low to get in her face and talk to her

Jeongguk - uhhhhh everything about him I love oops. I like his wisecracks, and how he's confident in himself, and the way he doesn't "submit" to the others due to age or species. I also gothified him so .

I LOVE UUUU BESTIE!

Tipsy ask Dana anything hours 🍸

#drunkposting #trouvaille #asks #dana's thoughts

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heecase · 2 years ago

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Midnight Rain Chapter 2:Long Time No See

Synopsis: You've always been a planner. You had your whole life planned out, but Heeseung breaking up with you for a chance to become an idol wasn't apart of your plan. So now you're stuck with supporting him from afar. Until a college boy sweeps you off your feet. Everything was supposed to be perfect. Then why were you still yearning for your first love? Pairing: Idol! Heeseung x Fem! Reader; Nonidol! Yeonjun x Fem! Reader Word Count: 3.5k Genre: Angst, Fluff (if you squint) Warnings: Heartbreak; Lying; Cheating; Drinking; Intoxication; Arguing; Gaslighting; One KYS joke

A/n: The story is all fiction, please don't take any depictions of the boys to heart. I love them all dearly and their personalities are only meant to progress the story. Any feedback is welcomed! Please enjoy~

Previous | Next | Masterlist

“I’m telling you something is off.” Chaewon stressed, as she sipped her coffee. You rolled your eyes at her, while taking a drink from your fruit smoothie.

“And I’m telling you, nothing is going on. I don’t know why you’re so insistent that Yeonjun is cheating on me. Especially since we just got engaged.” You frowned. You hated being in this position. One where you had to choose between your love and your best friend.

“Exactly! You guys have been together forever, so why did he pop the question now of all times? You said so yourself, he comes home late all the time and he hasn’t been as intimate with you either. I can feel it. I feel like he’s up to something and you don’t even realize it.” You sighed, thinking about the small possibility that Chaewon might be right. It’s been a year since you’ve graduated from college and a month since Yeonjun popped the big question. Sure, things weren’t ideal in your relationship but no relationship is perfect. Besides, you’ve been together for almost 5 years at this point and if he was cheating on you, why would he ask you to marry him? It just didn’t make any sense.

“Listen, he comes home late because his job is very demanding, they’re a start up company and he’s been working very hard to get them off their feet, so I can understand if he doesn’t have the energy to, ya know. I appreciate you looking out for me, but I don’t think anything is going on.” You picked up your phone to check the time before gathering your things. “I gotta get back to work but I’ll call you okay?” Chaewon didn’t answer, she just stared at you as you left.

A shaky sigh leaving her lips as she pulls out her phone to look at the pictures she got sent this morning. It was photos of Yeonjun and a mysterious girl leaving a club drunk with their hands all over each other. She could’ve shown it to you to prove her point, but she couldn’t bear to see your heart break before her eyes so she chose to keep it to herself for now. Maybe these pictures were taken out of context and she really was the one going off the rails with this but she doubts it. She’s always gotten bad vibes from him ever since the first time she met him. She didn’t feel like she had the right to dictate your relationship, so she kept her opinions to herself. But he’s finally crossed a line where she can no longer sit back and just watch. She wasn’t going to let you marry someone who was unfaithful to you. You were her best friend and she’ll do anything to protect you and your happiness. She just has to come up with a plan that won't make her look like the bad guy. Easy right?

That evening, you’re lounging at home in your shared apartment with Yeonjun. As you sip on your wine, you think about the conversation you had with Chaewon on your lunch break. Should you actually confront him about what Chaewon told you? She did make sense, even though you dismissed her worries. Or are you going to forget about it like always and finish this bottle before going to bed? If you were truthful to yourself, you would ask him because deep down you also knew something was going on. You weren’t naive like most people thought you were but you’ve wasted so much time, so many years, with him that it would almost be a pity to end it now. You had already made plans in your future with him in mind and it wouldn’t be convenient to change them now. But at this point you didn’t know if you were still in this relationship out of love or obligation. You’re truly pathetic.

On days like this when you’re not feeling your best, you pull up Enhypen’s youtube channel and watch your first love live his dream. He really did it. He was able to make a name for himself in a cut throat industry and you couldn’t be more proud. Seeing him so happy made you happy in return. It was like his happiness was enough for you to forget your tragic life. You just wish you could be there for him but supporting him from afar like this was enough.

You sighed, thinking about how everything was going according to how you envisioned it, then why didn’t you feel happy? You’re getting everything you’ve ever wanted. You have a stable job working in graphic designs at Kakao Entertainment. Your coworkers were bearable and your boss didn’t make you want to kill yourself. You’re going to get married to Yeonjun within a year, then probably have kids soon after that. Chaewon will be your kids' godmother because she doesn’t want to settle down so she’ll live vicariously through you and you’ll live happily ever after. It was supposed to be that simple. But life was never that simple. As you finished your last glass of wine and the en o’clock episode you were on, the front door opened and you could hear Yeonjun stumble through the hallway. He was drunk again.

“Baby, what are you doing still up?” He slurred, falling heavily onto the couch next to you. He reeked of alcohol and you scrunch your nose at the smell.

“I was waiting for you. Where were you?” You asked, trying to mask the nervousness in your voice. Were you really about to do this?

“I was out with the team. We were having dinner with an important investor. I didn’t realize how late it was. I’m sorry, I should’ve texted you.” He rubbed soothingly up and down your exposed thigh. Goosebumps formed in place of his warm touch when he retracted his hand to pull off his tie.

“It’s okay.” You paused, taking a deep breath. It’s now or never. “Yeonjun, are you cheating on me?”

“What?!” The look on his face told you everything you needed to know. To outsiders, he looked shocked but if you stare into his eyes you could tell he felt guilty.

“Are you cheating on me? Were you really at a business dinner cause I don’t know any business dinners that end at 2am.” You crossed your arms as you stared at him. This time you weren’t going to let it go. You had to get to the bottom of this.

“Baby, can we not do this right now. My head is killing me.” He rubbed his temples roughly.

“Fine, if that’s what you want.” You take off your engagement ring and place it on the coffee table. “But if we don’t talk about this now, then I’m going to Chaewon's for the night. I’m not going to lay beside you in bed while thoughts of you with someone else run through my head, without you reassuring me that it’s not true.”

“Y/n, please. You’re being really unreasonable right now. I’ve had a rough day and I really don’t need this.” He picked up your ring to put back on your finger but you jerked your hand away when he tried.

“Just tell me the fucking truth Yeonjun! Stop beating around the bush!” You yelled, no longer having the patience for him.

“You want to know the truth so badly?!” He stared at you with a look you’ve never seen before. “Fine! I did cheat on you. But it was a moment of weakness. Baby I swear it didn’t mean anything.”

“What do you mean a moment of weakness?! When did this happen?!” Your eyes widened as you stared at the ring in his hand. “Is that why you proposed to me?! Because you felt guilty??” You clutched your chest as your heart started to beat erratically.

“No! That’s not why I did it. Just let me explain first.” He pleaded, grabbing your free hand in his. You didn't respond but your silence was enough of a sign for him to continue anyway.

“We were having problems with securing an investor and there was this rich guy’s daughter who was coming on to me during the business meetings. The guys told me that if I didn’t play along that I would be terminated because this was going to be our last chance. If we didn’t get this rich guy on board then the company would have to shut down. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t mean for it to lead to anything. I was just being nice to her at first, but then she kept feeding me drinks and I blacked out. I don’t even remember what happened but all I know is she means nothing to me! All I need is you. Please, you have to believe me.” Tears were now streaming down his face. He looked so desperate for you to believe him that it hurt you to see him like this. This wasn’t the strong, charismatic Yeonjun you used to know. That Yeonjun hasn’t been seen since college. The Yeonjun in front of you is only the shell of the person he was.

“Yeonjun, I don’t know…” You looked down at your hands, trying to think about what you wanted to do.

“Baby, the deal is already done. I really was at a business meeting tonight. They signed the contract already, so I don’t have to entertain his daughter anymore. I promise. This will never happen again. Baby please, I can change and be a better man for you. Please, I can’t lose you.” He cupped your face in his hands as his thumbs caressed your cheeks. You leaned into his touch and let yourself forgive him one more time. As you nodded, he closed the space and captured your lips. The kiss was forceful and desperate. He successfully conveyed all of his feelings to you with just that one kiss and you hated that you were so weak for him but maybe this was the final draw. Maybe this was the awakening that he needed to get his shit together.

Chaewon was not pleased to hear the outcome of your argument. She was sure this would be the one thing that would make you finally leave him. She never expected you would forgive him and move on like nothing happened.

“You’re so stupid.” She scoffed, crossing her arms.

“You didn’t see him, Chae. He was really sorry and it wasn’t really even his fault. He was black out drunk.” You sighed.

“Yeah that’s what he wants you to think.”

“Can we please move on from this? I don’t like it when you guys are butting heads.” You pleaded, grabbing her hands and giving her the best puppy dog eyes you could muster.

“Fine, but you have to come with me to a party tonight.” Her eyes twinkled as you gave her an unsure look.

“Another one? I don’t think Yeonjun will like it if I go out tonight.”

“Fine, then we can continue to talk about you and your stupid decisions.” She replied, sarcastically.

“No! Of course, I would love to go with you! I’m sure Yeonjun will understand if I explain it to him.” You smiled as you cuddled up to her. She tried to keep her angry persona but she melted when you started clinging to her arm. She has to remind herself that she’s angry at Yeonjun and not at you. You didn’t do anything wrong so making you feel bad doesn’t make her the better person.

If there was one thing about Chaewon’s twitch success that you didn’t like, it would be the influencer parties. She would always insist you go with her because she didn’t want to arrive alone, even though you don’t know any of the people there.Well not personally at least, there are always celebrities there but you’re too shy to talk to them. However, these parties always had good alcohol and delicious finger food so you had plenty to keep you occupied as Chaewon mingled.

“Chae, don’t you think this dress is a little too much?” You frowned in front of the mirror at the skimpy black dress she gave you to wear. It was skintight and fell to the top of your thigh with a princess neckline and off the shoulder straps

“Not at all! You look so sexy!” She clapped her hands in awe.

“I don’t know if I’m really going for sexy tonight.”

“Oh come on. It’s from the new Prada line and one of us has to wear it to the party and I think it looks better on you.” She spun you around to admire the dress on your figure. Once Chaewon made up her mind, there was no changing it so you sighed out in defeat. You let her fix your hair and make up as well as give you a pair of heels to wear. Chaewon wore a light pink dress full of blurry flowers and butterflies with a similar neckline to yours and off the shoulder sleeves. Once she was satisfied with the way you both look, you made your way downstairs into the waiting uber.

The party was grand as expected. All the huge influencers were present, not that you would know any of them, and even a few celebrities. You stuck to Chaewon’s side like glue throughout the night, afraid of losing the small girl in the crowd. After a couple of drinks and snacks, you found yourself sitting beside her on a bench in the corner of the venue. You sighed as you realized you finished another drink. Glancing around, you failed to see any servers with trays of alcohol so you decided to hit the bar. You whispered to Chaewon where you were going and excused yourself from the group.

As you stood at the bar, you looked around at the hundreds of people in attendance and you were in awe at all the pretty people in the room. That was until your eyes landed on a very familiar figure. He was in the corner of the room with three boys around him and you knew right away who they were. Your breath hitched when Heeseung’s eyes flickered to yours and held your gaze. You looked away when the bartender placed your drink in front of you, snapping you out of whatever trance you were in. What was he doing here? Did he recognize you? There’s no way he did. It’s been too long. Right? You tried to be sneaky when you glanced back over to where he was but he was no longer there. Only the three boys remain. They were whispering to each other while gesturing in your direction. That’s odd. Were they talking about you?

“Long time no see.” A breath hits your neck making goosebumps form in its place. You gasped as you spun around to come face to face with Heeseung. “I never thought I would see you again.”

“Uh… yeah… me either.” You stuttered. Heeseung was standing in front of you and he was even more gorgeous in person. He looked more mature than from when you were in high school and maybe a little bit taller too. But his presence was different. His aura was suffocating and you forgot how to breathe.

“So what are you doing here?” He asked, sipping his beer casually.

“Oh.. I’m here with my friend Chaewon.” You answered, following his action and sipping your vodka orange juice. The liquid warmed up your insides, but did little to calm your pounding heart.

“Cool. How have you been?” His gaze was starting to burn as he stared at you. You felt your cheeks heat up as you failed to get any words past your lips. He didn’t push you to answer and you were grateful but the familiar beating of your heart was enough to make you go insane. This isn’t good. You have to get away from him.

“I’m sorry, I think I need to get back to Chaewon. I don’t want her to think I got lost.” You retreated quickly, leaving him alone. Before he could protest, you were already gone and he lost you in the crowd.

“Chae, can we leave?” You asked, pulling on her arm like a little child.

“What’s wrong?” She looked you up and down to make sure you were okay.

“I’m okay, I just really need to go home now. Yeonjun is looking for me.” You lied. There was a slight pause as she processed your words.

“Yeah of course.” She took your hand and said goodbye to her friends before leading you to the door.

“Y/n, wait!” Heeseung’s voice could be heard over the loud music. Chaewon paused to look over at him before you quickly dragged her out of the building without glancing his way.

“So, are you gonna tell me what’s really going on?” She asked once you got into the uber.

“I ran into my ex and I think I had too much to drink. I didn’t want to do anything stupid so I wanted to leave.” You tried to sound nonchalant but you knew your voice was still weak simply from being in his presence.

“Wait. Who’s your ex?” She tilted her head in confusion. This was the first she’s heard of an ex from you. As far as she knows, you’ve only ever dated Yeonjun.

“It’s Lee Heeseung from the kpop group Enhypen. We used to date in high school before he debuted.” You explained. Your voice didn’t sound nervous but your fidgety hands said otherwise.

“You used to date Heeseung?!” She gasped. “I play League with him sometimes on stream.”

“You play League with him?! But you suck at that game!” You asked equally as shocked.

“That’s not the point. Is that why he was chasing you down as we were trying to leave?” She raised a brow at you.

“Well, he caught me at the bar and we had a small chat but then I just felt too overwhelmed so I said I needed to leave. I didn’t think he would come after me.” You pondered why he would do that. You weren’t anything to each other anymore.

“Maybe he still likes you. I mean you do look smoking in that dress.” She teased.

“But he’s Heeseung. He could literally get anyone in that room if he wanted to, so I doubt he would want me of all people.” You looked down at your lap.

“Y/n, stop selling yourself short. You’re just as beautiful as any of the other girls at that party. Trust me, he wasn’t the only one making eyes at you.” You scoffed at her but her reassurance did make you feel better.

“He broke up with me when he left to become an idol. It was his choice.”

“So if he were to want you back, would you take him back?” She questioned.

“I have Yeonjun. I can’t take him back.” And that was the answer she wanted to hear. If Yeonjun was out of the picture then you would take Heeseung back. It’s as simple as that. She knew Heeseung was a good guy from the many rounds of League they played together. Let’s just say, she plays because the viewers want her to and not because she’s amazing at the game. So Heeseung does tend to carry her through most, if not all, of their wins. But he’s never once complained or made her feel like she was a burden to him in any way. So she would much prefer her best friend with a sweet guy like him and not a cheater like Yeonjun.

The gears spun in her head as she cuddled against your side for the rest of the ride. You could’ve caught on to what was going through her head but you were too busy arguing with Yeonjun through text. He was still upset that you went to the party in the first place and now he’s even more upset that you wouldn’t be home tonight because you decided to crash at Chaewon’s place. But you tried to reassure him and said you’ll see him tomorrow. Sighing, you closed your phone to return Chaewon’s cuddles.

The next morning, you got up early to leave, making Chaewon wake up with you and she was not happy about it.

“Let me know when you get there.” She yawned out, as she pulled her covers closer to her chin.

“Okay. I’ll talk to you later.” You giggled, placing a soft kiss to her cheek before heading out.

Chaewon was going to sleep in today but the events from yesterday were still lingering on her mind. Throwing the covers off, she sat at her computer contemplating if she should message Heeseung or not. Eventually, her hand moved to click his chat.

Y/n told me everything. Do you want her back? She waited for a few seconds before the reply came.

Of course I do. She smirked at the message.

Perfect. Then you’ll have to do as I say.

Taglist: @nobodyshallenter @sunsunl0ver @huening-ly @qeen123

#enhypen fanfiction #enhypen x y/n #heeseung x yn #enhypen heeseung #enhypen angst #heeseung angst #enha fanfic #enha x reader #heeseung x reader #lee heeseung fanfic #heeseung fanfic #kpop fanfiction #lee heesung x reader #heecase #midnight rain #txt yeonjun #yeonjun x reader

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