#notice how i give a brief summary of the stuff i hate but took the time to specify on the things i did like
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deliciouspirateangel · 2 years ago
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I'm curious why you hate Paige so much? Like not being accusatory or anything I genuinely want to know?
akshjkds this made me go back and look at my degrassi character tier list i made ages ago to see what category i put paige in
the category was "menace"
i think that sums it up alskjflds. that category was for the characters i hate most save for the ones that were literal rapists or violent homophobes/misogynists. BUT paige was at the top of the list so i liked her a little more than the other menaces???
idk every last degrassi character is a mixed bag but paige never did enough good for me personally to cancel out the shit she pulled lol
likeee i'm a big friendship girlie and i think paige treated her friends appallingly. and some if it is like oh haha silly teen drama shenanigans but it's also like ...girl.
and whatever little progress she made towards the end of her run on the show was destroyed by degrassi goes hollywood. to the point where, during her big fight with marco, i was rooting for him to slap her just to be disappointed when she slapped him lmao. and i loved all the old comments of "they totally ruined paige's character for this!!" and im just sitting in my corner like nnno this all totally tracks...
also wasnt a fan of her relationship with alex bc i think she treated alex just as bad. not that alex was an innocent lamb in everything but still. never cared about her relationship with spinner, not even gonna talk about the teacher, hated how she treated the guy that was hiv positive
and the college years were just terrible which isn't solely her fault but still. if i dont wanna see what craig, jimmy, marco, manny, and liberty are up to after graduation, then i sure as shit dont wanna see what paige is up to
Just to end on some positives so it's not me totally shitting on the clear fan favorite lol...
I liked the story with Dean. I thought that was some good drama. And I think Degrassi handled it about as well as they ever could. It was incredibly upsetting but sadly realistic
I liked the start of her relationship with Alex. Just like the weird little connection and the "is this really about to happen?" vibes
AND I think her grappling with her bisexuality was handled pretty well for the time?? Even tho I'm p sure Alex was the only one to ever actually use the B word lmao. But her fears felt realistic and like something a lot of people could relate to
And I liked parts of her rivalry with Manny bc it was funny whenever she got a broken leg out of it
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summercourtship · 2 months ago
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𝖍𝖆𝖚𝖓𝖙 | 𝖉𝖆𝖓𝖓𝖞 '𝖏𝖊𝖉 𝖔𝖑𝖘𝖊𝖓' 𝖏𝖔𝖍𝖓𝖘𝖔𝖓 𝖝 𝖋!𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 | 18+
I started writing this in fall 2020. At it's most ambitious, it was going to be a multi-chapter fic but that obviously didn't and won't happen so here: have it reimagined as a one-shot. You might be able to tell where it would have expanded into a larger story, but I tried to condense it. If anything that is here is eerily similar to something else I've written, it's because I've probably taken it from this draft lol. Also TBH I'm trying to not be as explicit in my sex scenes because I just feel more comfortable writing that way. Which seems like the opposite of a goal: for years, I've been trying to become better at writing super explicit scenes and now I'm trying to reel it in and make it (hopefully) match the rest of my prose. IDK. Happy Halloween!
brief summary: A one-shot about being stalked by your coworker who is also the serial killer terrorizing the town. warnings: slightly dubious consent due to threat of death, stalking, horror themes, knife play, PIV sex, some dirty talk | word count: 4025
danny 'jed olsen' johnson masterpost | read on ao3
You smell him before you see him. Stale cigarette smoke, coffee, and the unspecific musk of his cologne. On anyone else, you’d hate it. But with him, it’s become an almost comforting scent, indicative of one of your favorite people’s presence. When he rounds the corner and comes into your view, you can’t help the tiny smile that crosses your face.
“Hi Jed!” You chirp as he comes to a stop in front of your desk, placing his coffee on the corner of your desk to free his hands as he rummages in his side satchel bag. He gives you a smile in return, pulling out a thin file folder and flipping it open. 
“Here are those photos you wanted me to get,” He hands over a small stack of pictures, all developed and ready to go. Last week, you asked him to take the pictures on a whim, thinking you might just have to go down yourself with your crappy hand-me-down camera and snap a picture for the article you’re working on. But, to your surprise, he agreed quickly. 
The article isn’t anything special- in fact it’s quite the opposite. A filler piece for the middle section of the paper that no one really read. Despite this, you couldn’t bring yourself to bullshit the article, and still put forth an unnecessary amount of effort into the piece. No one would read it now, but perhaps it could be added to your portfolio for when you finally left this town. 
The photos are good- which isn’t a surprise considering who took them. Everything Jed did seemed to turn out well, even when he didn’t try. You wonder what he looks like doing something he’s actually passionate about.
“I didn’t think you’d have these ready so soon!” You say, flipping through the four pictures he handed over. You’d have to choose one- you’re lucky they’re even letting you include a picture in the meaningless article. “I mean, aren’t you busy with Ghostface?” 
He gives a small exhale, like he’s laughing at his own inside joke. “A little bit.” He pauses. “Maybe I wanted a break to go take some pictures of the duck pond in the park. Riveting stuff you’re writing about.”
“Excuse me, but the purported existence of an otter in the duck pond is very important news. Would be front-page worthy if there wasn’t someone else taking up the headlines.” You laugh before stopping for a moment, thinking about what you just said. “Oh my god, I’m sorry. People are dead and I’m making jokes about an otter.” 
“Don’t worry about it, everyone copes in different ways.” He smiles down at you. “Especially when you have no idea if you’re next.” 
“That’s morbid, but fair.” You say, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. You don’t notice how his eyes flick to follow the movement. “Anyways, thanks again for the pictures. I will have to find a way to repay you.” 
“Don’t worry about it.” He smiles again, different this time. This is the smile that makes your stomach swoop and your heart skip a beat. Your face heats and you stop thinking for a second, but you press on.
“No, please-” 
“I wouldn’t want to put you out like that. Times are hard.” 
“I- okay.” You sit back, looking at him. He nods and starts to leave, but the part in you that insisted on somehow repaying him took over and you were speaking up once more.
“Jed!” He turns and looks back, eyebrows raised. “Um, at least let me take you out for coffee? Just as a thanks, not repayment.” He thinks about it for a moment, your heart racing as you wait with bated breath for his answer. If he didn’t say yes, you’d never be able to look at him again. You might have to leave town immediately.
“Sure, but let’s make it a date instead.” He gives you a tiny smile and a wink that you barely register, before turning and walking away. Giddy, you sit back in your chair, trying not to hide your face in your hands. Instead you focus on the pictures, flipping through them to distract yourself from the newfound excitement in your veins.
____
Despite the fact that there was a masked stalker-murderer prowling the streets of your town, you felt no fear walking home. Maybe it’s a remnant of your teenage “nothing can hurt me” years. Maybe it’s just your stupidity rearing its ugly head at the worst time. 
Or maybe you just like the thrill of it all.
You had listened to the warnings- check behind you when you walk, keep an eye out for anything abnormal, lock your windows, lock your doors, don’t hang out places alone. However, you followed them a little haphazardly. You didn’t engage in any behaviors that could be misconstrued as inviting danger into your life, but you also didn’t necessarily allow the paranoia to get to your head.
If you did, you might have died from sheer terror and helplessness. Or perhaps you would’ve been more careful, and would’ve definitely noticed that you had already unknowingly disregarded the warnings.
Someone was following you.
And they had been following you for a while.
____
You wake up suddenly. It’s like that sometimes- not gently, or gradually. You’re just... awake. Brain racing to catch up with your surroundings, you sit up. No clock around, but you’d hazard a guess that it’s somewhere around 3AM. Running a hand through your hair, you sigh, the dream you’d been having already disappearing from your memory. Plopping back onto your pillow, you close your eyes and wait for sleep to come back to you.
It’s funny how the air conditioning can sound like someone breathing, deep and slow. You vaguely register that something isn’t right here, but sleep takes over before you can linger on that thought. 
__
The best coffee shop in town is a small, cluttered shop off of the main road. It’s tucked away between a barbershop and a vintage store, far enough away from the main street that any tourists wouldn’t come by it. (Not that there were many of those now that a serial killer prowled the streets at night.)
“You okay?”
You look up from where you’d been staring into your coffee, even though it was probably too late in the day to be drinking it, the sky already darkening with the approaching evening. But your body was thick with exhaustion for reasons you weren’t quite sure and you needed to finish another pointless article when you went home. Jed had his own coffee, so at least you weren’t alone in your desire for evening caffeination. 
“Yeah, I’m just… trying to not psych myself out about everything going on. The news says it's good to be careful but I know I’d just end up taking it too far and becoming paranoid.” 
“No one knows how to deal with this.” He says, simply. You only nod in agreement and take a sip from the coffee. 
A breaking news report on the TV in the corner of the room catches your eye. GHOSTFACE STRIKES AGAIN screams the caption at the bottom of the screen. You silently nudge Jed and direct his attention towards it. For a moment, it looks like the echo of a smile crosses his face, but it’s gone before you can truly absorb it. His face is stony, and he looks back at you. 
“Are you gonna write about that?” You ask. 
“Tomorrow.” 
“What number is this?”
“Six.” He answers without hesitation. You force yourself to take a deep breath to try and calm the beating of your heart. Every time the news breaks, it feels like the first time. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to hearing about another brutal murder, and maybe that’s a good thing. It means you aren’t desensitized to it yet. You only realize that Jed is watching you carefully when he asks, again: “Are you okay?” 
“I’m fine. Why are you so worried about me? You could be next too.”
“I think I can handle it if it comes to that.” He took a sip from his coffee to hide his smile. If you found this odd, you didn’t remark on it. “At least let me walk you home tonight.” 
You stared at him, unsure why you were suddenly uneasy, why an alarm was going off somewhere in the back of your head. Then you decided that it was stupid. You knew Jed. He took pictures of the duck pond for you. Hardly anything to be frightened by. 
“That would be nice, thanks.” 
___
After a week of waking up in the middle of the night, you were certain there was something else going on that your body was trying to tell you. When your eyes open, once again barely past two A.M., you sit up in your bed instead of trying to go back to sleep right away like you normally do. The shadows in your room seemed deeper tonight, your curtains blocking out most of the light from the street. 
You stare into the corner, hoping that the shape manifesting in the darkness was just your eyes playing tricks on you and you could go back to sleep. But you knew better. Slowly, your eyes adjust to the low light and you’re able to make out the dark figure standing in the shadows. 
“...Go away.” 
Slowly, with the creak of leather, the figure shook its head. You take a careful breath, trying not to let your fear show. But it must be palpable in the air, there's no way it wasn’t. 
“What do you want?” 
The headlights of a car driving by shined into your room for a brief second, illuminating the figure and the mask he wore like a bolt of lightning struck down outside. It only confirmed what you had been afraid of since you’d woken to see a dark shadow in your corner, as his mask was barely visible in the dark room. 
But it seems that Ghostface has, indeed, marked you as his next victim. 
You move, bolting out of bed. He must want to give chase because he lets you fling your door open and run down the hall, his steady footsteps following you. But he catches up to you quickly, his body slamming into yours and pressing you against the wall, his arms wrapping around your front. Before you can begin to struggle, the thin edge of a blade is pressed against your throat, effectively stopping you in your tracks. You can only respond with a choked cry.  
The hard length of his body presses against your back, a firm barrier between you and your freedom. He adjusts slightly, allowing you to feel the other hard length pressing against you, though you can only barely feel it through the layers of his outfit. But you know it’s there. 
You exhale shakily, and you don’t know if it's from fear or your own arousal. (Or both). 
His chest hits your back as he breathes, standing still with you as your mind tries to catch up with everything that has happened in the past few seconds.
“Let me go.” You whisper. His arms flex around you, squeezing slightly. “Please.”
To your surprise, his grip loosens. 
“Call the cops and I’ll skin you alive.” He hisses in your ear, his voice rough from the modulator he’s using. 
And then he’s gone, leaving you standing frozen in your hallway, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Why wasn’t he killing you? Why wasn’t your blood splattered on the walls, why did he let you go?
Despite his warning, you did consider calling the cops. But really, what would they do? Ghostface was gone. There was no evidence aside from the thin line of red on your throat where he’d pressed the knife, and even that was fading quickly.
Instead, you return to your room, curling under the covers and staring at the wall until the room brightens with the dawn. 
___
You had no idea if Ghostface continued to watch you. You were certain he was. You’d come home to things in obviously different positions. It was like he was taunting you, begging you to do something about it.
You simply put the objects back where they belonged and continued about your day.  
___
“Is there something you wanted to tell me?” Jed asks, a few dates later when you’re sitting on your couch with him and perched on the edge of the cushion, your muscles tense like you were about to take off running, and he seems so understanding in that moment that you almost blurt out what has been happening for the past two weeks. But fear takes a hold of you, and instead you simply shake your head. 
“No, no. There’s nothing.”
___
The second time you actually see Ghostface, you’re barely prepared for it. You knew, deep down, that he’d be back at some point and yet you were still surprised when you arrived home to an open window, your sheer curtains fluttering in the hot wind as the humidity from outside filled the room. 
You drop your bag, staring at the open window like it was a rabid animal that was going to attack. Then, slowly, you turn your head to the corner, where you can feel his eyes on you. 
Even though you can’t see his eyes through the mask, you can feel the moment you make eye contact with him. 
Ghostface starts walking towards you and you don’t know why you don’t move. The door is right behind you and yet you stand there, watching as he approaches you with slow and measured steps as the streetlight from outside glints off the knife he holds loosely in his hand. You swallow thickly. 
Then, when he’s only a step away and after you’ve had ample time to turn around and run away, he grabs the side of your head, his gloved hand threading through your hair. Finally, your brain catches up to your situation and you struggle against his hold. You vaguely register him shushing you from behind the mask but your heart is racing too fast in your ears to really pick up on it. 
As a response to your thrashing, he places the flat edge of the knife against your cheek, a silent threat that stills your movement. You stare at him, stuck between his knife and his hand. (You should’ve run, why didn’t you run?)
He clicks his tongue, the noise distorted by the voice modulator in his mask as he shakes his head.
“Be good for me, won’t you?”  
Something shifts-- maybe it’s the wind from the open window or maybe he leans in a fraction closer but you suddenly catch a whiff of his scent. He must’ve been covering it up with a heavier cologne in his previous visits, because you would have easily recognized this from the first visit. Stale cigarette smoke, coffee, and an unidentifiable musk of his (usual) cologne.
It’s like being dunked in ice cold water after a warm day in the sun. You stare up at Ghostface, your brain quickly piecing together all the things you hadn’t consciously picked up on. The coincidences, the hints, the tiny behaviors that reminded you, always, of someone else. 
You pull yourself out of his grip, and you don’t know if he expected you because you’re able to make it halfway across the room on shaky legs before he grabs you again. Your legs buckle beneath you at the force of his body against yours and he follows you to the floor, roughly turning you over so you’re laying on your back with him perched above you. 
Heart racing, you reach up and yank his mask off, too quick for him to react. You blink at him, confirming what you’d just figured out. What you’d known, really, this entire time.
“Jed.” 
For a second, his face is blank. Then, he starts to laugh, pressing his weight down on your body when you start to struggle again. 
“I was wondering when you’d figure it out. Was hoping you wouldn’t, really, but.” He shrugged. “Does it make you feel better, or worse, to know that you weren’t actually cheating on me?”
“I never did anything with Ghostf- you.”
“But I know you well enough to know that you wanted to. I felt how you pressed back against me that night when you first noticed me in your room.” He leans down, getting in your face. His eyes are so cold, not at all the eyes of the Jed Olsen you knew. Was that even his name, or was that a lie too? “Did you want Ghostface to hold you down and fuck you? Was Jed not cutting it out for you? You needed the big bad serial killer, didn’t you?” 
He places his gloved hand over your throat, noting how your breath catches. “Of course you did.” His hand moves down, laying over your left breast. He doesn’t move, doesn’t try to actually touch you. It’s only then you notice the rhythm he’s keeping with his other hand, the one that’s still resting on the side of his leg. He’s feeling your heartbeat, though his eyes are locked onto yours. 
“I didn’t. I don’t.” 
“You say that, but-” He peers closer at your eyes. “Your eyes are telling me something else.” He leans back and smugly offers his explanation. “You know that eyes dilate when you’re sexually aroused.”
“I-” You swallow, falling silent. What can you say? Any denial would be a lie. He continues to look down on you, face passive. 
“I don’t want to kill you.” He interrupts your silence. Then he’s quiet. Thoughtful, almost. A glimmer of the Jed you knew coming through in his hesitation. “Not yet, at least.”
“Oh-”
“But I can’t exactly let you go on knowing who I am.”
“...I won’t tell anyone.” He raises an eyebrow, looking like he might burst into laughter again. “Promise.”
What power did you have to promise something when you were the one under him, the memory of the edge of his knife still cold on your cheek? 
“Who would you tell?” He said, causing you to furrow your brow. “You think that Jed Olsen is my real name? I’ve thought through everything before you or anyone else could even try to.”
“But-”
“Why would I let you go, when your death will be so…” he leaned down again, his hips rolling slightly against yours. It’s achingly difficult not to press up against it. “...delicious?”
“I don’t want to die.” 
“None of you do.” He tutted. His hand that had been laying on your breast moves to the hem of your shirt, slowly pulling the fabric up to expose your stomach. You shivered at the feeling of leather on your skin, goosebumps trailing after his fingers as he slid his hand back towards your breasts. 
“Front clasping bra.” He says under his breath, raising his eyebrows at you. “Were you expecting company?”
“No.” You glance down. You could offer an explanation like oh, it’s almost laundry day or I just like this bra, but you stay silent. Watching as he unclasps it.  
Jed- though that isn’t his name, is it?- removes his gloves, tossing them somewhere in your living room. You start to turn your head to see where they landed but he grabs your chin in his hand, forcing you to look at him again. 
“Stay still.” 
It’s then that you notice his knife, back in his hand, and watch, with bated breath, as he drags the tip over the skin between your breasts, not hard enough to even sting. Down, under where your skin creases, back up around the right breast until he lays the blade flat against you. Your chest is rising and falling quickly with your breath, though you try to control it for fear of being nicked by the knife. 
“Are you going to kill me?” 
He hums, tracing the point of the blade around your nipple and watching as it hardens. 
“Tell you what-” He moves the knife to the other breast. “-we can postpone your death.”
“And what do you want instead?” You ask, as if it wasn’t obvious from the way he was dragging his blade across your exposed chest or the obvious erection pressing against you when he rolled his hips. 
“I think you know.” He raised his eyebrows. Was there a choice? And even if you did have a choice where the option wasn’t death, would you choose any differently? 
He pinches your nipple, prompting a shaky acceptance from you. “Fine.” You barely bite back a please before he slides down your body, his hands running down your chest to the hem of your pants. The knife returns to cut off the button (unnecessarily) and he roughly pulls your pants down your legs, his nails scratching your skin. 
He slots himself between your legs, now with only the thin fabric of your underwear and his clothes separating him from you. Even that doesn’t last long, as he takes the side of your underwear and rips through it with the knife before doing the same to the other side, ripping the fabric away from your body. 
Leaning back, he starts to fiddle with the many belts and buckles around his waist. You watch, your legs falling apart slightly. His eyes drop to your core, his tongue darting out to lick his lip at the sight of your wet cunt. 
“For someone who seemed so averse to this, you’re pretty wet.” He comments. Before you can respond, he’s pushing into you, having pulled his cock from the complicated trappings of his outfit. 
You groan at the intrusion, the slight pinch of pain before you adjust as he continues to push into you. He gives you barely a moment to breathe before he pulls out and begins thrusting back into you. 
“Fuck, you’re tight.” He grunts as he fills you, his cock thick in your cunt. You can only whimper in response, rolling your hips to meet his thrusts. 
He pulls your leg up, placing it over his shoulder as he continues to fuck into you, the new angle allowing him to hit deeper inside of you. You curse, throwing your head back. You’re certain that you’ll have a rash on your back and ass from the carpet rubbing against your skin but the bursts of pleasure from his cock and his fingers are enough to distract you from that for the moment. 
“Come on, cum on my cock-” He grunts, his hips rutting down against you, his fingers pressing harder against your clit as he practically bullied your body into orgasming for him. Your back arched, hands flying to pull him down to you. Your fingers dig into the fabric of his cloak, scratching against the leather as he urges you on with whispered praise and degradation. 
With a final thrust of his hips, he finishes inside of you, low curses hissed through his teeth. 
You lay, chest heaving as he pulls out, wincing at the sudden feeling of emptiness. The sweat that covers your skin begins to cool. 
“Remember what I said last time about calling the cops.” 
You don’t respond, only clipping your bra back together and pulling your shirt back down over your chest. After all, what could the police do at this point? There were very few signs of a struggle in your apartment. And, as you found out the next day, Jed had gone out after and killed someone else. At best, the police wouldn’t believe that it had actually been Ghostface in your apartment. At worst, they’d think you were in on it. 
And, when you went into work the next day to find a dark polaroid picture of you, asleep, from a few weeks ago- before you’d even asked Jed to take those pictures of the duck pond- with a red heart scrawled at the bottom, you began to think that maybe the worst assumption wasn’t that far off anymore. 
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oddballwriter · 11 months ago
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🙏 gn/fem reader who has a tattoo of an ahnk on her chest and arm tattoos of astrological symbols or like more egyptian tattoos who visits the museum with a group of friends and steven just drools at her existence lol
Living Art
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Summary: Working in the gift shop doesn't really earn you any points in talking to people, that's something that Steven's learned the hard way. But that doesn't mean that there aren't some cases that happen once in a while.
Warnings: It's mentioned that the reader does some of their own tattoos using the stick-and-poke method. Steven is shy but very much into the reader. The reader's gender and pronouns are never mentioned but Steven does refer to the ready is pretty so take that as you will. Mention of alcohol and getting drunk but no consumption actually happens. If I'm missing something don't be afraid to tell me.
Author’s Snip: I'm sorry that this took such a long time. I've been out of motivation to write and also recently started my spring semester. So I hope you will still like it.
I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.
Word Count: 954
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Working at the gift shop didn't really make way for meaningful talks with people. Steven has learned that through many one-way conversations with people who come in. But he'd be lying if he said that he ever really stopped wishing for a moment to chat with someone who would listen and talk back. Unfortunately, that person only exists in Steven's daydream it seems.
That is until one day a group of museum-goers come walking in chattering amongst themselves. Steven looks at them for a brief moment just to get a count of them before looking off somewhere else until he hears a voice go "Oh..." in a disappointed cringing manner. Steven glances back and sees you staring at a mug on display. He knows which one it is. It's that one mug that has hieroglyphics on it that are random and translate to literal gibberish. He remembers himself cringing at its existence.
Your friends join in and laugh at your explanation of why this mug has you scrunching your nose in disapproval. "Does it say something dumb?" one of them asks, to which you respond with "No. It doesn't say anything. That's why I hate it.". Your friends laugh some more and move on with their browsing around while one stays with you for a moment to say "You should buy it and put it in your collection of stupid stuff.". You nod but say "I'm thinking about it but in all honestly this thing is kinda ugly.". It is, the graphics look horrible and Steven is so happy that some else can see that.
After a while of walking around, and grabbing a plush that also got a chuckle out of you, you make your way to Steven at the counter. Now that he's getting a closer look at you, you're very pretty. As he looks you over quickly so as to not be caught by you he notices something else.
The shirt you have on gives a sensible show of your chest and arms and along them are various Egyptian and astrological symbols tattooed on your skin. Steven can name practically all of them with his brief scan of your body. He manages to catch you saying something to him.
"How's your day going?" you ask. He blinks off his stun and answers with a shrugged "Alright. Same work day as all the others. You know?". You nod in response. "I bet you get kids in here all the time." you say, "They always want to leave a shop with something." you laugh. Steven gives a small laugh back as he thinks about all the times a kid came in begging for something. "They usually leave with a toy or one of those little books for kids," Steven says before glancing at the little plush you're buying, "This one is actually really popular. They're usually all gone by the end of the day." he mentions as he takes a look at it himself. "They are pretty cute." you reply, "They're also kind of silly. These figures in Egyptian mythos just being little stuffed dolls that you just have around.". Steven laughs at the thought.
Steven starts to scan the items and he can't help but instinctively cringe a little when holding and looking at the mug. You seem to notice and snicker. "Sorry," Steven apologizes, "But as someone who knows hieroglyphics this thing is awful," he explains.
"It doesn't even translate to anything." you both say in unison. You both smile at the commonality in your opinions on the mug, with Steven maybe feeling a little flutter in his stomach.
"The only reason I'm getting it is because I like to collect novelties that are dumb," you explain. "What about the plush?" Steven questions having thought that the plush was quite endearing. "The plush is dumb in a cute way. The mug is just dumb and I feel like it will fit right in with all the other stupid things I have." you explain. "Well, I'd love to see that collection," Steven comments. "It's actually a really nice talking piece. People like hearing about all the stuff in it." you mention.
Steven nods and as he does he takes a look at a few of your tattoos. You catch it this time and smile, "Do you like them?" you ask. "I think they're lovely," Steven confirms, "Where do you get them done?" Steven questions. There's no reason for him to ask, it's not like he has the guts to get a tattoo himself but he's finally getting that conversation that he's been yearning for. "My friend actually does them. She's a tattoo artist and she secretly give me a discount for some favors like getting her food or doing something for her." you mention, "Some of these are by me though. Sometimes I get drunk and bored at home and just grab a needle and pen ink." you add as you point to a few.
"You tattoo yourself?" Steven gasps. "Don't worry. I'm drunk enough to not really feel anything but still sober enough to clean the area and not have it look terrible," you tell him. "If you ever want a tattoo but not the whole commitment, give me a call. I'll give you as much alcohol as you need." you say with a wink. Steven blushes and bites back an ear-to-ear smile.
You both hear the clearing of a throat behind you. When you both take a look you see your friends standing in line right behind you looking on with looks varying between smug and done with overhearing the back and forth. "Just give him your number already so we can buy our shit." one of them speaks up.
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Taglist:
@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction (applications open)
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tonberry-yoda · 2 years ago
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I Love You, Spiderman - Peter B. Parker
notes - I have been thinking about him way too much lol word count - 2,108 WARNINGS - brief mentions of blood (a deep cut) summary - you've been tired and missing spending time with your bf. a superhero by the name of spiderman helps you destress before work, but you find out something about him you would never expect
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You've been exhausted as of late, working overtime and trying not to fall asleep at your computer. You had been trying to pay off college for a long time and you were so damn close you could taste it. Just a couple more weeks of overtime and you would be done paying it off. The thought made you smile, it just sucked how hard you had to work for that.
Because of this though, the time spent with your boyfriend has been little to none. You didn't really know where Peter worked, but you knew that it was something busy as well - cop stuff, he told you. So because of this, you would rarely see each other. You both lived in a crappy little apartment together so when you would come home, you would turn on the dim kitchen light, make some microwavable mac and cheese, and immediately pass out. Hours later, if you weren't dead asleep, sometimes you would feel your boyfriend curl into your arms and kiss along your neck before he passed out just the same.
You hated that you were growing apart from this. Even days off were pretty silent because out of nowhere, he would get a random call that would send him off to work, leaving you to lie on your bed and stare at the ceiling.
He was tired and you were tired.
You didn't know how much more of this you could take. Even a couple more weeks sounded like hell.
---
You woke up to Peter kissing you on the forehead and saying goodbye. You opened your eyes, but squinted at the sun. What you did see was him walking out of the room.
"Wait," you said with a tired voice. "Peter."
"What's up?" He stood in the doorway and looked like he had to leave in a rush.
"Have a good day." You held open your arms and Peter quickly ran over, giving you a quick hug and another kiss.
"You too. Don't work too hard."
"Oh, you know I will." you chuckled.
"I know." he laughed back, quickly bolting out of the house.
You were just glad the two of you could still talk.
You stretched and got out of bed, yawning. Another long day, but you were so used to it at this point.
You brushed your teeth and took a shower. It was colder out than usual in New York, so you had to put on some layers and then decided to make yourself a little treat of hot cocoa that you could carry out of the house with you.
When you locked the warmth behind you with the click of a door, you could see your breath. You shivered and wrapped yourself in your coat, beginning your walk.
Walking was way nicer than wasting forty minutes in New York traffic, no matter how cold it was. Plus, where you worked wasn't more than a fifteen minute walk.
You put in some headphones and put on something to pump you up for the day and decided to take a shortcut since it was so cold.
The shortcut you would only take on days like this was a long alleyway. You never liked it, since it smelled pretty bad - especially on hot days - and was always dark, but on colder days, it was a good way to push through and get to work.
You held your keys close, ready to use them as a weapon and saw alley cats that you wanted to pet, but passed since you didn't want to be late.
You quickly froze in place when you saw something completely unexpected, however. Spiderman landed in front of you, panting and out of breath. He leaned against the wall, looking victorious, and let one of the alley cats curl up on his lap.
"I am so tired." he muttered softly under his breath. The cat just purred at him and he pet it.
He looked up and noticed you, completely frozen in your spot.
"Oh, hey." he giggled, rubbing the back of his neck. "What's up?"
"You're Spiderman," was all you could say in complete awe.
"That I am." he chuckled.
"Are you okay?" You spotted a torn spot in his suit and blood running out of a cut.
"Oh, this?" He winced. "It's nothing. Just a little scratch. I'm fine."
"Are you sure? It looks pretty deep."
"I've been through worse," he admitted. "This is nothing compared to what I usually go through."
"Alright.... well uhh... it was nice to meet you, Spiderman. I gotta go to work though."
"It was nice meeting you too," he moved the cat and stood up, reaching his hand out to you. "What's you name?"
"y/n." you took his hand and shook it.
"Well, it was wonderful to meet you, y/n. And might I say, you are pretty dang cute." He winked at you.
"Oh, I have a boyfriend." you told him quickly before walking away.
The walk to your office building was just you in deep thought. Did Spiderman just call you... cute? What a weird morning.
And definitely not your last of those.
On a morning that Peter woke you up by pressing kisses up and down your face and neck that made you giggle, you went out again only to find Spiderman down the same alleyway.
"Well look who it is!" he laughed.
"What a coincidence," you laughed back, thinking that was it, just trying to walk past him.
"So, where are you off to?" he asked, catching up to you.
"Work."
"Ew."
You laughed. "No kidding."
"So what's this boyfriend of yours like?"
You rolled your eyes. "Really?" you asked, turning to look at him.
"Yes, really! I wanna hear about him. You know, since you were so able to reject Spiderman over him."
"Shut up. I don't even know who you are."
"Just tell me!"
So you did. You told him everything. How much you loved him, how long you've been together... how you've been separated.
"I wouldn't really call it 'separated' per say," Spiderman said. "I mean, sure you have to work some overtime, but it sounds like you guys are fine if he's still waking you up with kisses and saying he loves you."
You thought about it for a minute. He was right. It's not like you and Peter were arguing or actively avoiding each other. You were both just extremely busy.
"How much longer do you think you have to work like you have been?" he asked.
"Not too much longer."
"Well that's good. I would say ask him on a really nice date if he doesn't beat you to it."
You laughed out loud. You laughed and really couldn't control it.
"What's so funny?" Spiderman asked.
"It's just... I think Peter would shit his pants if he knew I was talking to Spiderman. Let alone getting relationship advice from him."
"What? Is he a big fan or something?"
"Oh, huge fan. He owns a stupid amount of merch and exclusive stuff too. He's like in love with you."
That got Spiderman to laugh pretty hard, nearly keeling over. "Maybe I should take your boyfriend out instead."
You both laughed until you got to the end of the alleyway. You gave him a fist bump and thanked him.
"Even if I don't know you under the mask," you said. "I think it would be pretty cool to be friends, Spiderman."
And that was exactly what happened. Every morning before work, you would walk with him for only a short five minutes before you had to part. Whenever you got a short amount of time to talk to Peter, you would tell him that you hung out with Spiderman, but he would just brush it off with laughter.
But if not for him, you wouldn't have gone on such a lovely date with Peter after you stopped working so much overtime.
When he saw you come downstairs in a shimmery red dress, he nearly passed out.
"J-Jesus, y/n." he stuttered as he looked you over.
"Do you like it?" you asked as your cheeks heated.
"No way," he said with a sigh. "I love it. You look.... oh my god."
You laughed and pulled Peter into your arms, playing with his hair. You told him how cute he looked in his suit and pressed a kiss onto his cheek.
He still stared at you with complete shock and you swore to god you could see hearts in his pupils.
You just locked your arm with his and got in his car before driving to go get dinner. You blasted music that you both sang horribly to, and when you ended up at the restaurant, you ended up talking more than eating. You were remembering old memories and laughing about stupid stuff from years ago.
It felt nice to be back like this with your boyfriend. All those years of dating were suddenly so much more worth it and you were now debt free.
"I love you so much, Peter." you told him as you reached for his hand across the table.
"You don't even understand how much I love you." he said back.
---
You took the next few days off, just enjoying your time with Peter. Not a lot of dates occurred, it was more the two of you sitting around in your PJs, but that was more than good enough for you.
And even when the two of you did eventually get back to work, it didn't feel like anything awful. It was shorter days and a lot more cuddles.
On another cold day before work, you walked down the usual alleyway and weren't surprised to see Spiderman playing with a cat.
"Hey, Spiderman," you said with a smile.
"Oh, hey!" He stood up and gave you a high five. "How've you been?"
"Really good." you smiled. "Like really really good."
"And your boyfriend?"
"Amazing. Thanks to you telling me to take him on that stupid date, we've literally been closer than ever I think."
"You would've gone on the date anyway." he chuckled.
"I know, but I feel like I need to thank you for some reason."
"Don't worry about it. I'm just doin' my thing."
You laughed and walked down the alley with him. "Would you ever want to meet Peter?" you asked. "You know, since we're close now, I figured it would be kinda cool if you met him."
Spiderman laughed. "This is so weird that we're friends."
"No kidding."
"But, no, really, I think it would be pretty cool to meet him."
You beamed. "He doesn't work until later! Maybe he's still lying in bed! Let me call him!"
You took a couple steps away from Spiderman to call Peter. You were so stupidly excited to share your friendship with this superhero with your boyfriend. It was silly, but it was nice.
Behind you, you heard Spiderman's phone go off and he laughed. "Looks like I'm getting a call. Hello?"
You heard the same 'hello' echo from your phone and you nearly dropped it on the asphalt beneath you.
"Peter?"
Spiderman looked around to make sure no one was nearby and he slipped off the mask to reveal that he was just Peter under the mask.
You felt yourself go faint for a minute.
"Wait, hold on," you held onto a nearby wall and looked at Peter, who was just smiling at you. "What the hell, Peter?!" you exclaimed.
He shrugged and then looked at you with pure horror. "Wait! Are you mad?! Please don't tell me you're mad!"
You didn't know what you felt, but mad definitely wasn't one of those somethings. "No, I'm not mad," you reassured him. "Just confused." you laughed.
He took a deep breath and nervously chuckled. "I didn't know how to tell you, so I thought it would be funny to bother you as Spiderman before work."
You laughed again. You really couldn't help it. "I don't know how I didn't figure it out sooner. It should've been obvious."
"You think?"
"Same bad humor."
"Hey!"
You just laughed again and hugged Peter. "I'm gonna go to work now, you big dork. But have a good day, alright? And don't get hurt."
"No promises." He went to slip the mask back on, but left his lips out, which you gladly kissed with a smile.
"We'll talk all about this when we get home, okay?"
He nodded and pulled the mask back over his face completely.
"I love you, Spiderman." you said, blowing him a kiss.
"I love you too." he swooned before taking off into the city.
~~~~~
into the spiderverse masterlist | pinned post 2023 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated
~~~~~
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aquamarinescarlet · 4 years ago
Text
Don’t give up just yet
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Word count: ~3.6k
Warnings: two curse word (I think), brief mentions of sex and cheating, angst (bare in mind these warnings don’t apply the way you think they do, you’ll have to read to understand)
Summary: The classic soulmate AU, sentences written on each other’s wrists, but with a twist.
Author’s note: This was basically an excuse for me to reinvent the soulmate AU with the wrist tattoos thing. It’s sorta angsty, but I just thought the ending was too funny. Just experimenting here, tell me what you think.
PSA: Dividers are the count down till the day: black is reader focused, red is wanda focused, gold/yellow is also reader focused, but I thought it deserved a little spark.
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“You should call her, y’know.”
“Why would I do that? She made her point very clear.”
“It’s her wedding day, Y/N,” Mia reasoned, “and this fight was months ago, you have to get over it.”
You rolled your eyes at her insistence. This discussion has been happening every day for the past two weeks.
“I didn’t do anything wrong, why am I the one who should get over it?” You emphasized.
“He is her soulmate, and she is your sister, the least you could do is pretend.”
“Ugh,” you let out a guttural scream, “I can’t do this anymore Mia, I stand by what I said. That man is an asshole and this soulmate thing is stupid. I don’t trust him, no matter what the words on both their wrists say, and I’m not gonna watch her go down with this and not do anything about it.”
Mia didn’t respond, she knew she’d reached your last nerve. You watched as the woman left your office, sending a last sympathetic glance your way before walking into the hall. 
Mia was right in some points, and you knew that. She was right about it being your sister’s wedding day and that you should be there to support her. She was wrong about you needing to be the one to apologize though. The way people manipulated their lives to fit this whole twisted Soulmate Theory made your blood boil.
The Soulmate Theory was quite simple: everyone was born with a sentence written on their wrists, popular belief is that those are the first words your soulmate will say to you. It was cute, and it worked most of the time, not for your sister though. Or at least you thought so.
Oli's soulmate was Isaac. They had met three years ago and eventually started dating. Oli was a firm believer of the Soulmate Theory and had never dated anyone before, so it was all new and exciting.
You started noticing the patterns roughly one year after they started dating. He was controlling her, discreetly, barely noticeable, but it was there. 
First with clothes, Oli had made it a habit to always ask for his opinions on her clothing, and he would tell her he hated something, regardless of her telling him over and over again she had liked it. You made little comments here and there about his actions, mostly jokes but with some truth behind, she didn’t notice.
Second was friends, Isaac would always want to meet Oli’s friends, and if she went out with one he didn’t know he would make her feel guilty. You started giving more serious warnings, pointing out what he was doing more clearly, she didn’t care and called you crazy.
Third was her feelings, he had his mind set on what her role should be in his life. He praised Oli endlessly when she cooked or cleaned. Other than that, he didn’t care, didn’t pay attention to her stories, didn’t appreciate her paintings and drawings… 
It got to the point where she wouldn’t want to paint anymore, when she was telling a story it would be without her usual excitement. Her smile no longer reached her eyes, she was constantly tired. 
You confronted her about it, several times, but it was of no use. You’d point out the facts and she’d retort with ‘he is my soulmate, the universe bound us together, he wouldn’t do this to me!’
Three months ago was the last time you two talked. She told you he asked her hand. She knew you would be against it, she tried to ease you into the idea of her being with Isaac for the rest of her life. You weren’t having any of it. 
After hours of screaming, arguing and loads of tears, she told you not to come to the wedding, and you said you wouldn’t. 
It’s now four days from the date and you’re not going as long as he’s the one she’s marrying.
You stared at the words on your own wrist. ‘It’s you’. That sentence haunted you for years. What a stupid set of words for your soulmate to say.
As a kid you adored the Soulmate Theory, you paid meticulous attention to the first words you’d exchange with anyone, you made new friends nearly every day in hopes of hearing those words, but they never came.
Until they came. At first it was exhilarating, but the ones you said didn’t match the ones on the person’s wrist. You were extremely disappointed. And then you heard them again, and again, and again… It became almost routine. Every single person you met would say ‘it’s you’ or some variation of it. 
You being who you are certainly didn’t help. During college you had started a tech company and now it had grown to be one of the biggest and most important in the field. The new inventions did win you several prizes and a lot of money. You were also stupid famous, being the young brilliant CEO and all. 
Ever since, you gave up on looking for your soulmate. It seemed counter productive to get yourself all worked up just for it not to happen every single day. You made your peace with it, although a small part of you just wanted to meet said person.
The situation with Isaac and Oli helped. Seeing that it could end up hurting you made it easier to not fixate on finding your soulmate. Nonetheless, the desire was there; hidden, pushed to the back of your mind, but still there.
You just wished your sister could see it too, that the Soulmate Theory is not the solution to all her problems. 
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“Relax Steve, it’s all taken care of.” 
“What about the flowers? Did you book the buffet? Did you check with the band? And the decorations? I saw some people didn’t RSVP yet, should I redo the seating charts?” Steve rambled on as Wanda just laughed.
“The flower problem is solved, the buffet confirmed, so did the band, the wedding planner is working on the decorations and redoing the whole seating chart seems… unnecessary, they still have three days to confirm their presence.” She reassured the man who was more stressed than her about the whole situation.
“Okay, sorry, I just want to make sure everything is perfect.” He huffed, taking a seat on the couch. 
“It’s going to be perfect, don’t worry.” She couldn’t help the weirdness that surged upon uttering those words.
“How are you so calm?” Wanda just shrugged, not really sure how to answer. 
Steve took a deep breath and gazed at the red head, offering her a smile. 
“I’m going to sleep, all this wedding stuff has been stressing me all day.” 
“Okay,” Steve made his way to his bedroom but she called him before he reached the hallway, “thanks for the help Rogers.” 
“No worries.” He shot a last smile before disappearing. 
Wanda found herself alone in the living room, the silence only making her thoughts scream louder.
She would be married in three days. It seemed unbelievable. After losing her parents, being experimented on at Hydra, fighting along Ultron, losing her brother and becoming an Avenger, she never thought she would have time to fall in love.
Yet, here she is. Although the feeling wasn’t quite what she thought it would be. It wasn’t exciting, or nerve racking. She felt no different than any other day of her life. Steve seemed like the one who was getting married, not her. 
Vision is sweet and caring, she feels so happy around him. Then what is causing all these doubts to haunt her?
She knows what it is, she just doesn’t want to admit it.
Those words. Those stupid words painted forever on her wrist. ‘Don’t do this’. Ever since joining the Avengers she started using several bracelets to hide them, but they still burned on her skin every single day.
She’d heard of the Soulmate Theory at a very young age. Her parents had explained how those were the first words she’d hear from the love of her life. She would spend hours daydreaming all sorts of scenarios in which someone would say those words to her and they’d fall in love.
After her parent’s death, that stopped being her priority. At the Hydra base she’d only see her brother and a couple dozen different Hydra soldiers, too old and mean for a soulmate. 
Gaining powers was a game changer. She was older then. Stronger. They finally allowed her and Pietro to leave the base and create chaos in Hydra’s name. “Do good” in Hydra’s name. She believed she was doing the right thing. She truly did. 
Hearing her first ‘Don’t do this’ made her question everything. It came from a little kid nonetheless. A scared little kid. It must’ve been a mistake, she thought at the time. But that mistake happened, again, and again, and again… 
When she joined the Avengers her eyes were opened to all the pain and terror she had caused. All the people she hurt. Then it dawned on her, what if one of those ‘Don’t do this’ came from her soulmate? What if she had hurt them, or worse, killed them?
The idea terrified her. So she hid those words on her wrist. A reminder of the evil she’s done and the love she’ll never have. She promised herself to never look for her soulmate, she already caused them enough pain, they didn’t deserve to get tangled in the mess that was her life.
And then Vision was created. Him and Wanda got along greatly. He made her happy. They fell in love, or at least that’s what Wanda told herself, that she fell in love with him. It was possible, there’s no rule on the Soulmate Theory that says you can only fall in love with your soulmate. Plus, Vision is not human, so he doesn’t have words written on his wrist, he doesn’t have a predestined soulmate, technically he doesn’t even have an actual soul for this sort of thing. They could be each other’s soulmate. A loophole on this stupid theory.
Why didn’t it feel like that though? Why was she questioning it so much? And why now? Three days before her wedding?
She took off the bracelets and stared at the ink, brushing her fingers lightly over it. She loved Vision, she affirmed to herself. She wants to marry him. This is what she wants. And she believes in these words, for a while. Long enough for her to fall asleep, turning off her brain from overthinking the situation too much.
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Work has had you occupied all week. With back to back meetings and loads of paperwork to fill out, you’ve barely had time to think of anything else.
But now it seems like everything is done and you have more free time than you’d like. 
You left the office early, not having much to do there anymore, and, instead of spending all afternoon home alone, you decided to go out for some coffee.
You were sitting on your usual table in the small coffee shop close to your place. It was calm, quiet and homely, a nice contrast between the places you frequent. The warm cup on your hands did nothing to distract you though.
The book you’d brought was long forgotten on the table as you glanced at your phone every few seconds. It’s two days till the wedding and, even though you tried not to think about it, you hoped your sister would text you saying she broke it off. It was unlikely, but wishing she could get some sense knocked into her wouldn’t kill.
You were so focused on your thoughts that you didn’t notice a woman glancing at you until you caught her trying to call your attention.
“It’s you!” She said, astonished, pointing to the cover of a magazine showing a picture of you.
Recognizing that issue as being a rather old one, you just nodded and offered the woman a friendly smile. She took that as an opportunity to approach you.
“Hi. Sorry,” she sounded excited and also nervous for bothering you, “I just wanted to say what an inspiration you are to women all around, to me especially. I’ve been opening my own business and seeing what you do has been such an encouragement to me. So, thank you!” 
You were surprised by how nice she was. You’d expected her to ask you to invest in her business or something, like everyone who approaches you does, but she didn’t and it was a nice change of pace for once.
“What kind of business are you opening?” You asked. Listen to her talk would be a good distraction, plus, you could use the company.
“Oh, no, that’s ok,” she said, “I don’t want to bother you any further.”
“Please,” you urged, “I have the rest of my day off and I could use someone to talk to. Unless you’re busy, then I wouldn’t want to be a burden to you.” You laughed to ease the woman’s nerves.
“Sure?” You nodded and gestured to the empty seat across from you. 
She accepted it and you spent at least an hour talking before she had to leave. It was a pleasant conversation, she praised your work but didn’t refrain from giving some interesting criticism on your business. The topic of an investment or a partnership never even came up. 
It got your sister out of your mind for a while, although it didn’t last long.
Laying on your bed, your eyes fought to stay open, your mind swirling with all possible scenarios regarding Oli. She would be miserable if she went through with this, and you couldn’t do anything about it.
You love your sister, you care so much about her, but she refuses to listen to your warnings. You could swallow your pride and go to the wedding. You could try and support her. But that would just make an accomplice to her stupidity and you’re not going to just stand there and pretend that that’s ok.
You thought about texting her, way too many times. But your relationship is already rocky as it is, the least you could do is hope she gets some clarity on her own.
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One day till the wedding. She’s 24 hours away from the happiest day of her life. Why is it, then, that Wanda doesn’t feel as happy as she should be. 
She didn’t have to fake a smile, she was happy, but that smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. 
None of the others seemed to notice it. They just thought it was the nervousness of having everything set so the day could run smoothly. Vision even brought up the possibility of her having cold feet about it, but she denied it thoroughly, assuring him she wanted this.
And she does. She wants to get married, have kids and build up a family of her own. She wants it all. 
It still seemed weird though. Like something was off. 
“Steve just called,” Nat interrupted her thoughts, walking back into the room, “everything is set, prepped and organized for tomorrow.”
“Let’s try on the dress then.” Carol urged the girl to put on the piece of clothing for the millionth time.
It did her justice. Slim at the top and flowy at the bottom, accentuating all her curves perfectly. It wasn’t big and puffy but light and delicate. She smiled at her own reflection as the other women crammed around her to take a look.
“You look beautiful.” Pepper said in awe. 
“She does, doesn’t she.” Laura agreed, even though she’s the one that helped her choose it.
Wanda didn’t say anything, just smiling and appreciating her own image, excitement growing on her chest from wearing it in front of everyone the next day.
The girls spent hours planning how they would do her hair and makeup. There were so many ideas, disagreements and arguments that Wanda was completely drained by the end of the day. She was happy though, to see her friends being there for her, eager to help and make sure everything was perfect.
It was nice to have people around since she lost so much throughout the years.
After the women were gone and she found herself alone, Wanda’s thoughts from the beginning of the day came back, hitting her like a train.
Was she really more excited about wearing a dress than about getting married? Was this a sign of her actually getting cold feet? 
She shrugged them away, affirming to herself these are just stupid uncertanties people always get before their wedding day. At least that’s what happens in movies, so nothing to worry about... right?
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Thankfully your work slump had subsided as now a gigantic pile of papers sat on your table. Some contracts had to be restructured and a set of stores had to be chosen to distribute your newest technology. 
You thrived in that scenario, with countless reports and 2D drawings of the prototypes scattered about the room. Your mind was going a thousand miles a minute, seemingly unaware of the events that would take place later that day.
That peace, however, was short lived. Your brain short circuited for a second when you checked what had caused your phone to buzz.
Two voicemails. 
From none other than Isaac. 
It was right then that it dawned on you: Oli was marrying that asshole today. In only a couple of hours actually.
Before listening to the messages you started to record your phone screen, maybe he would try to threaten you or something and you could use that to convince Oli to break things off with him. It wouldn’t kill to be precautious.
The first one was sweet, although it almost made you gag, it was sent with good intentions. Isaac was asking you to go easy on Oli, regardless of your feelings towards him, you should be supportive of her and her decisions. Too pretentious for your liking, but sent with good intentions nonetheless.
The second one started awfully weird. Some muffled sounds, things you couldn’t quite make out. Until you heard a loud moan, your eyes going wide as you pushed your phone away from your face. Isn’t it technically ‘bad luck’ to see the bride on the wedding day? You didn’t have time to dwell on those thoughts as the voice on the phone started to moan each other’s names. The woman didn’t sound anything like Oli, because it wasn’t Oli. Isaac was cheating on your sister? And on their wedding day!?
Oh you weren’t about to just let that go. You stopped the recording, thanking your intuition, and quickly ringed Oli.
It rang once… twice… three times… and then voicemail. You tried at least four more times until you figured she just didn’t want to talk to you.
“Marie can you come in here please?” You called your secretary.
A few seconds later she popped her head inside your office.
“How can I help?”
“Can I use your phone!?” You sounded more exasperated than you wished.
“Are you sure it’s a good idea to call your sister today?” Damn, that woman knows you too well. You sighed loudly.
“Please… I just…” You trailed off, sounding desperate this time around.
Thankfully Marie gave in and lent you her phone. You typed Oli’s number and rang it, several times, she didn’t pick up once. You were starting to get truly desperate now.
“Do you have the address?” You handed Marie her phone back.
“Here.” She handed you a piece of paper from her pocket. 
It was on the other side of the city, at least a one hour drive. You quickly grabbed your coat, purse and phone, rushing out of the office, only being stopped by a hand wrapping around your wrist.
“Don’t do anything stupid.” You gave her a reassuring smile and a quick nod before making your way to your car. Marie has been working with you since the beginning, she always knew when you were up to nothing good. She also knew that when you set your mind to something, there was no stopping you.
The drive was excruciating. You kept making stupid mistakes and taking wrong turns. Everything seemed to work against you, being it: accidents, red lights, slow drivers, pedestrians. Even the birds chirping around were pissing you off.
You finally reached the venue and stopped the car messily in the front entrance. You quickly ran up the stairs, and almost tripped and fell when you heard the officiant was already performing the ceremony.
You reached the doors and yanked them open, hopefully interrupting the wedding before it was too late.
“Don’t do this!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, nearly breathless. 
The guests all turned towards you, surprised. So did the couple on the podium.
Except those people weren’t Oli and Isaac. You recognized them, Vision and Scarlet Witch, or at least that’s the names they went for on television. You’ve seen them before, doing business with Stark had its perks, but had never been introduced.
You could’ve felt bad, but your stomach was a turmoil of faith and nausea. You were either really early or really late to stop Oli.
“Sorry,” you said, trying to catch your breath, “wrong wedding, carry on.” You turned around to leave, but not before noticing the bride glancing at her own wrist.
You didn’t get the chance to take a single step out the door before her voice filled the silence that had settled.
“It’s you.” You stopped dead on your tracks. Your wrist burning slightly, not the kind of pain to cause discomfort, just enough to be noticeable.
Those words. 
Her looking at her wrist.
Your’s burning now.
You turned back around, earning all kinds of confused glances from the guests. Your eyes fell on the woman, a smirk plastered on your lips.
“Seems like this isn’t the wrong wedding after all.”
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lawngnomeofdoom · 4 years ago
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Part Four: when I'm near you
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Five Part Six Part Seven
Summary: Connor seeks advice on his new emotions from Markus, but when Connor is resistant to his suggestions, Markus decides to force his hand. Some jealous Connor fluff!
A/N: Yay part four! Thank you for reading this far and for all the kind messages, hearts, and reblogs, it all means the world to me. Keep being kind to each other :)
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“Markus, thank you for agreeing to meet with me,” Connor said rising from the café table to greet his friend.
“Of course Connor, I must say that I was surprised that you asked me for coffee though,” Markus said taking a seat across from him. Outside the café’s window was the police station, and citizens of Detroit moving about their day, humans, and androids alike, thanks to Markus.
“Oh?” Connor asked wondering what social faux pas he had committed now.
“Well I’m happy for the company Connor, but neither of us drinks coffee.” He explained.
“Right, I suppose it’s a human phrase I’ve picked up.”
“So, what’s on your mind?” Markus asked, his eyes studying Connor’s. Seeing Markus and other members of Jericho act so naturally human was a wonder to Connor, but it also made him feel inferior in some sense, why couldn’t he adjust like them? He did think he had been making decent progress until Y/N arrived.
“I wanted to ask you for some advice regarding new emotions I’m struggling with.”
“I see, what emotions seem to be troubling you Connor?”
“Ones having to do with…affection.” He replied after a brief pause. To Connor’s surprise, the corners of Markus’ lips crept up into an amused smile.
“What’s her name?” He asked. Connor’s face became bashfully blue with a thirium blush. He thought of feigning offense, why would Markus assume he had to ask about a particular person? But the success of that scenario was well below 0%, Connor knew that without a preconstruction.
“Y/N.” He admitted finally.
“Tell me about her.” Markus grinned ear to ear as he leaned back in his chair.
“I met her at the station, she is a detective and an old friend of Hank’s. She’s highly intelligent, a very efficient officer. Her work ethic is one I greatly admire.” Connor told him. Markus raised a brow.
“And?”
“And… she has a lovely laugh, something about it brings about a certain feeling akin to peace in me. Y/N is kind, she treats me like…like a person, with respect and integrity. I have found myself enjoying listening to her speak, even if it is on mundane things, she makes them fascinating somehow. I have also found myself trying to memorize things about her, the way she likes her coffee, the way she bites her bottom lip when she’s thinking, and the songs she hums to herself. Oh and she smells like lilacs.” Connor finished. He looked up to see that the expression on Markus' face had shifted from playful curiosity to a sincere gaze.
“Oh, Connor.” Was all he said.
“I am struggling because I find myself distracted by Y/N on a daily basis. My eyes and my thoughts always wander back to her. We were at a crime scene and I whispered something lewd in her ear, I’ve never done anything like that before.” Connor finished.
“What do you need from me, Connor?” Markus asked leaning forward.
“I wanted your advice on how to rectify the situation.”
“Rectify?”
“Yes, I…” Connor glanced around their surroundings and leaned in, whispering to him.
“I had lustful thoughts about her just the other day. I imagined her and I were… well long story short, I imagined her in a rather compromising position over my desk.” Connor told him as softly as possible. Markus kept a straight face for a moment until his bottom lip quivered and he burst into a fit of laughter. Connor sat back with his hands on the table, perplexed by the hysteric reaction.
“I’m sorry Connor, I really am. I just never thought I would see this day.” Markus explained after catching his breath.
“What day?”
“The day Connor, the most advanced android out there, has a crush on someone.” He smiled.
“Markus don’t be ridiculous. We discussed it the other day, Y/N and I are just friends.”
“Do you imagine bending all your friends over your desk?”
“No! That’s precisely why I need your help in preventing those thoughts from further polluting our friendship.” Connor insisted. Markus shook his head.
“Connor, this is a confusing time for our people. Every new emotion is terrifying, uncharted territory but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t explore it. It means the exact opposite in fact.”
“I don’t think I can do that, thank you for meeting with me Markus but I’ll just have to figure this out myself,” Connor said standing from his seat briskly and leaving Markus alone in the café.
A few hours later Connor glanced up from his terminal for the tenth time in the last half hour hoping to see you at your desk. He knew you’d be at lunch around this hour, but you usually took it at your desk, or if you did go out for food it wasn’t for this long. Hank noticed his constant checks and rolled his eyes.
“She said she was with a friend for lunch.” He grumbled.
“Oh." Connor said fiddling with a pen. A clock ticked loudly in the mostly vacant station.
“What friend?” He asked after a moment. Hank raised a brow.
“I didn’t interrogate her on who she eats burgers with, does it matter?”
“No, I suppose it doesn’t.” Connor yielded. Another few minutes went by and Connor’s head shot up as he heard your laugh echo across the station along with a familiar male voice. His eyes quickly found you as you walked to your desk, located to the right of his own. He noticed first that the man you’re with has his hand on the small of your back, and that man was Markus.
“Jeez Connor, you okay?” Hank asks. Connor notices for the first time that he had completely crushed the pen he had been holding, the ink staining his hand.
“You can’t be serious Markus that is unbelievable.” You say sitting down in your desk chair. Markus sits on the edge of your desk facing you, he gives Connor a sly side-eye before continuing.
“Honest to God, can’t make stuff like that up. Oh, hey Connor.” Markus smiles, giving him a cheerful wave.
“Markus. What are you doing?” Connor asked, his tone dry and demanding.
“Just meeting friends of my friends. I came looking for you but ended up meeting Y/N by chance. I know you two are such good friends, I thought it only right to invite her out to lunch.”
“Thank you again for buying me lunch Markus you really didn’t have to.” You say and lightly pat his hand, making Connor’s fist tighten again.
“You bought her lunch?” Connor questioned with a sharp edge to his voice.
“Come on Connor, a lady as gorgeous as she is, well it was my honor.” Markus grins and kisses your hand softly, making you blush, which in turn makes Connor rise from his chair.
“Can I speak with you, Markus?”
“Now? I was hoping to spend some time with Y/N.”
“Now.” Connor demanded.
“Well, when you put it like that, sure. I’ll see you later Y/N.” Markus says with a wink, as he follows Connor to a vacant hallway out of your line of sight. Without hesitation Connor grabs Markus by his collar and pushes him against the wall, his eyes enraged.
“What the hell are you doing?” He growled.
“Easy Connor. Just spending time with one of your dear friends, what’s the problem?” Markus smiled, unphased by the aggressive hold Connor had on him.
“I don’t want you to spend time with her like that. Touching her and kissing her hand. You don’t get to do that.” Connor asserted.
“And why’s that?”
“Because…because…oh. Oh, I see.” Connor said releasing his hold on Markus’ collar. Markus patted the wrinkles out of his top and shook his head.
“Took you long enough, although I will say it didn’t take much to make you jealous.”
“Jealous,” Connor repeated. He hated the word, but Markus was right. A fire had ignited in him as he watched Markus make you giggle, get to touch you even slightly, get to take you out for lunch. Such small things but he treasured them more than he knew.
“The tactic you used was very clever. I’m sorry for roughing you up.” Connor said with embarrassment.
“Don’t worry about it, I’m just glad it worked. She is a very lovely girl Connor; I can see why you have such a crush.” Markus said patting his friend’s arm.
“So what do I do now?” Connor asked, his tone dripping with desperation.
“Well, there's plenty of perfectly good desks in here..." Markus grinned and then put his hands up when Connor shot daggers his way.
"Okay, okay, my bad. Start with dinner."
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boldlyvoid · 4 years ago
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Amethyst you so much
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Summary: Spencer has had a crush on Y/N since she started working at the bau. She only ever works the night shift after a case, handling all the aftermath gracefully. one night, Spencer stays back and they strike up a conversation about rocks, causing their feelings to dig a little deeper.
Warnings: pure fluff, weed mention, hurt/comfort, grief and mourning
Word Count: 6.4K
Read on Ao3
Late nights at the office had become his thing since Gideon left.
He couldn’t bring himself to go home some nights without a game of chess, a cup of coffee, and the ambiance of the post case staff working. He would’ve had no idea about what goes on after they close a case if he didn’t stay behind most nights.
The phone rings almost every 10 minutes, and it’s always answered by the sweetest voice. The fax machine never turns off, and the most beautiful girl in the world is always running around placing papers in different places.
He’s been smitten with her since she started here, 2 years ago. Never seeing much of her since she was switched to the night shift, always wanting to just watch her from afar, never speaking to her unless he needed to.
“Yes, again we are so sorry for the door,” he can hear her voice from the back corner of the room. “Agent Morgan will be paying for that out of his paycheck, don’t worry, Mr. Kennings. We’ll be sure to remember your hotel when we’re in the area again. The FBI has a very generous budget for overnight cases. Of course, you have a good night too.”
She hung the phone up harshly and let out a deep sigh. He turned around to see her face in her arms, resting against the desk. She looked done, completely fed up. He would be too.
She looked up then, noticing that he was making eye contact with her. She awkwardly smiled and waved at him, “sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry,” Spencer replied. “We asked for the key, I should have stopped him from kicking it in.”
She laughed then, walking over to his desk so she didn’t have to yell across the room. She sat on the corner of his desk lightly, “why do you stay every night?”
“Oh, um,” he wasn’t prepared for this. She had never talked to him before. She was barely able to even look at him when she used to place papers on his desk 2 years ago, now she was on his desk.
“I don’t like to bring the work home with me, it’s better to destress here before I go to my apartment,” he answered, half honestly.
She nodded slightly, “I get it. Luckily I go home in the mornings so the sun helps me feel better.”
“Going home in the dark isn’t fun,” she lightly smiled up at her.
“Do you want a coffee or anything?” She asked softly, “seeing as I am still your assistant as long as you’re here?”
He laughed lightly, “I would, but I’d like to join you in the staff room for it?”
“Okay,” she stood, straightening out her shirt as he stood as well.
He held the doors open for her, letting her walk out first, still smiling as she waited in the hall for him. Never being anything less than 1 foot from him for some reason, and he didn’t mind in the slightest.
“Do you like your job?” He asked lightly.
“Oh yeah,” she laughed. “It’s like customer service on crack. Have you ever had to explain to someone why you can’t pay for the cracked foundation after Agent Morgan’s ransacked a place?”
“I honestly never thought of who has to deal with the aftermath,” he awkwardly admitted to her. “I’m so sorry.”
She couldn’t stop laughing as they entered the kitchen, “it’s fine. I never have to apologize on your behalf, it’s everyone else who seems to be reckless. Sometimes I feel like it would be better if I came along to babysit.”
“That would be helpful,” he smiled softly as she entered the staff room.
He watched as she took a new coffee filter out of the cupboard. Emptying the coffee pot with ease, rinsing everything before adding the water and scooping in the grounds. He was mesmerized by how fast she was able to do it, then again it was sort of her job.
“What mug would you like?” She turned to him with a smile that made his heart skip a beat.
“Um, the purple one, if it’s there?”
“You really like purple, huh?” She teased him, standing on her tippy-toes to reach the mug for him.
She placed it on the counter before grabbing a white mug, it had a bumblebee on it, “bee happy” written along the top. It was perfect for her.
“Purple is a stress-reducing colour,” she explained. “When I was a kid my parents painted my room purple so that I’d sleep better.”
“I’ve always been drawn to it.”
She leaned against the counter while the coffee pot started to percolate, “Probably because of your anxiety, coffee doesn’t help that.”
“It’s in my DNA to be like this,” he tried to joke, knowing he succeeded when her smile crept back onto her face.
He was on a mission to keep seeing it.
“For someone who spends a lot of time with dead bodies, creepy places and bad people, you sure are a mousy little thing aren’t you?” She teased him.
“I also love Halloween, go figure.” He’s not sure where the confidence came from, being able to make light-hearted jokes like this was only easy with the team.
Which she technically was a part of. He’s seen her almost every single day for 3 years, slowly being able to get comfortable enough for this very moment.
“What else are you into, outside of here?” She asked honestly, making his heart swell as no one else had ever asked him before.
“Lots of things,” he sighed. “I love to read, I’ll read anything. But mostly I enjoy far-off worlds. Lord of the Rings, Star Trek, Doctor Who, Sherlock mostly.”
“No supernatural?” She gasped. “Sacrilege, honestly. What kind of nerd are you if you don't support supperwholock?”
“That's the show with the monster hunting brothers right?” He tried to recall it to his mind.
She nodded with a pressed-lipped smile, “it’s bad but in a way where I can’t stop watching every Thursday, they just introduced an angel who is pretty gay. Star Trek is cool too, I guess, I was raised by Trekkies.”
“My mom was into Doctor Who.”
“Mamma’s boy,” she teased him slightly, returning her focus to the coffee as she poured the now finished brew into their mugs. “She was nice when she came in that one time, I made her a very sweet coffee just like yours.”
He reached for the sugar then, poring a generous amount into his mug with a grin, “how much do you like?”
“the same amount,” she couldn’t help but laugh. “I hate the taste of coffee, but it keeps me awake.”
He poured the sugar into her mug as she places a spoon in each. Allowing him to stir his own before picking it up finally. Holding the warm ceramic in his hands, it was almost as warm as the feeling in his chest when he looked at her.
He’s felt it for a long time. He’s been caught staring at her by Derek, JJ even tried to get him to give her his number. Which she already had for when she calls him into work in the middle of the night. They knew he had a crush, he did too. He just didn’t know what to do about it.
“Come to my desk, I want to show you something?” She asked softly, avoiding eye contact as she walked towards the door.
He followed, like a lost puppy, all the way back to her desk. It was always neat, he always looked at it when he made his way up the stairs to the briefing room. He could even see it from where he sat at the table sometimes. Always wanting to see her leave in the mornings.
She had a collection of rocks that always changed, he loved the blue one the most but it wasn’t there currently. She had all new ones since the last time he looked.
“Here,” she hands him one. It’s brown and gold, the colours moving and shifting as he turns it with his fingers. The gold running through it like a beautiful wave.
“what’s this for?”
“It’s a Tiger’s eye, for good luck and happiness,” she smiled. “Keep it at your desk and maybe it’ll be easier for you to relax when you come back?”
The butterflies in his chest were swirling then as she looked up at him with pleading eyes. Wanting him to take it, wanting him to feel better. Caring for him.
“Thank you,” he barely whispers, clearing his throat softly. “It’s very nice of you.”
“You’re always nice to me, so,” she shrugged.
They sat down then, he dragged his chair from his desk over to hers. Sitting in close as she explained all the meanings to her rocks. He listened carefully, getting to examine each one as she spoke.
“This one is Jade, it’s for balancing emotions and allowing compassion so I don’t scream at everyone on the phone,” she laughed as she placed one in his hands. Her fingers brushing his palm softly.
It was a beautiful green stone with a thin white line running through it, separating into 3 directions as he flipped it over, “it’s beautiful.”
“I know some people don’t believe in this stuff,” she started to get embarrassed as she placed them all back on the shelf. “But I’ve always thought; if the moon, which is just a rock, can control the water, and humans are 70% water, then who’s to tell me the moon cycles don’t control my emotions and these smaller rocks can’t help problem areas?”
“You’re not wrong,” he shook his head softly as he thought her words over. “People depended on the stars and planets for guidance originally, as well as rocks and herbs for healing, just because it’s outdated doesn’t mean it doesn’t work?”
“Thank you,” she smiled. “No one has ever agreed with me that easily.”
“Anytime you want to talk, I’ll just be over there,” he pointed at his desk. “And I’m a phone call away?” He swallowed sharply at his boldness, trying to stay calm as he awaited her answer.
“I do have your number,” she smiled, reaching out to place her hand on his. “But you should go home, I’m sure you’re chilled out now.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, staring at her hand as they touched. He lightly wrapped his hand around hers, holding it slightly, running his thumb over her knuckles. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“And every day after,” she whispered, tilting her head as she smiled at him.
This was going to be interesting.
Penelope was always dragging him out. She would take him shopping, to dinner, to the movies. She was like his big sister, dedicated to making sure he wasn’t always cooped up or trying to retreat into a fantasy life.
She kept him busy.
She had 4 bags in her hands as they walked down the street, peering into the store windows to see what else she could possibly be interested in taking home for someone. That’s when they passed the natural health store.
He stopped in his tracks, seeing all the different rocks on the wall accompanies by little cards that described how they could help. He opened the door and rushed inside before Penelope even noticed he stopped following her.
“Good afternoon!” The shop owner called out to him. “How can I assist you today?”
“Um, the girl I like has a rock collection,” he says softly, knowing Penelope is behind him listening. “Crystals more specifically, I’d like to get her some?”
“Well, you came to the right place,” the man beams, escorting him to the wall of rocks. “What is she like?”
“Wonderful,” the words are carried out of his mouth on a sigh as he thinks about her. “She’s confident and nice, and caring. She’s always positive and just so lovely.”
“I’ve got you,” the man starts picking rocks off the wall and placing them in his hands.
Spencer follows him to the desk where he lays down a handful of rocks, Penelope is shockingly quiet as she stands beside him, staring at the collection. She’ll be full of questions later, all of which he is terrified of.
“This is a rose quartz, pretty basic love, beauty, anti-depression stone,” he pushes the pink and a green rock towards him. “Serpentine is for new adventures, observation and insight. I have a feeling you’re up for an adventure with her?”
Spencer nodded enthusiastically, “I like that one. It would be better to get her some rare ones, some that have to do with friendship, new beginnings, or opportunities?” He tried to explain his feelings as best as he could. Not knowing if he sounded dumb for a change.
The man smiled wide, “here,” he dipped below the counter and dug out a box. “Chrysocolla is literally for new beginnings, love and opportunity.”
He hands Spencer a vitreous, raw blue stone with small green marks running all through it, it’s beautiful like her. “This is perfect.”
“I’ll throw in a Kiwi Jasper as well, it’s for being by someone's side, support and trust. As well as a Ruby in Zoisite it symbolizes finding the joy in life with someone,” he hands Spencer two equally beautiful stones, prepping a bag and wrappings for all of them.
Spencer lays out the 5 stones he picked out, watching him wrap them with care before placing them in a bag. He rings everything up, Spencer pays and before he’s even out the door Penelope is pouncing on him for answers.
“Who?!”
He can't help but blush and stutter, trying to brush past her and continue walking down the street. “You can’t hide forever Spencer, who is she?”
“How do you know it’s a she?”
“You literally said so?” She looks at him like he’s an idiot. “Come on? I won't tell anyone!”
“Y/N.”
The gears are turning in Penelope's head as she tries to place a face to the name, knowing she’s seen her somewhere, “From the office?”
He nods softly, “the one Derek bullies me for staring at?” He clues her in more as they walk.
“He also bullies her for staring at you,” she adds with a smile. “She’s going to love those, when are you going to give them to her?”
“I was thinking about just leaving one on her desk every day? Maybe with a note for why I picked it?” He really wants to woo her, she’s too special to just flirt with.
“She’s going to love that.”
Sure enough, he walked into work every day for the next week, placing a rock on a sticky note on her desk. He was never around when she was able to see it, only knowing she got it when he'd arrive at work the next morning with a note reading 'thank you ♥︎ ' on top of his files.
He thinks about her all weekend, planning how he'll give her the last rock as he takes the elevator up that morning. Only to see her sitting at her desk, phone pressed to her ear as she tried to talk someone out of suing the FBI, she looked absolutely miserable. Just a casual Monday morning for her, almost at the end of her shift.
He rushed over to his desk, putting all his stuff down to dig one of the rocks from his satchel. Picking the Kiwi Jasper for today, he grabbed a pen and a sticky note and wrote her a little note.
“Always here if you need to talk, -Spencer ♥︎”
He walked over to her desk, she was still talking so she didn’t notice him until he was right there, she looked up at him with a thankful smile.
“Yes sir,” she answered the person talking to her. “Can I call you back after I speak to the chief? thanks.” She hung up on him, turning all her attention to Spencer.
“I know you know it's been me leaving these, but I brought you in another one,” he says softly, placing the rock in her hand and sticking the note to the shelf where it would end up.
“oh my gosh, Spencer?” She placed her free hand on her heart as she looked at the rock.
“You looked upset?”
She stands and pulls him into a hug, he can feel all the eyes on him as he holds her back, letting his chin rest on her shoulder as she squeezes him.
“Thank you,” she whispered as she pulled back, awkwardly smiling at him as she also noticed everyone staring.
“Always,” he smiled back, hand still resting on her arm. “Um, I have a case I need to get to.”
“Of course, good luck,” she smiled.
He pulls the tiger's eye out of his shirt pocket, showing her that he still had it, “kinda hard not to have good luck with this.”
She bit back a smile, her eyes gleaming as she took a deep breath through her nose. Releasing the same feelings he was keeping inside, allowing both their butterflies to swarm out together.
He loved when they had cases in Virginia. Being able to stay in the bullpen and work was relaxing, it was easier to think where he felt safe.
He was working on the geo profile all alone, a huge map stretched across a clear case board as he laid a yardstick across it. Drawing a thick red line with marker over it, in his own little world as he worked away.
He doesn’t realize she’s standing there too until she’s lightly pressing her hand on his back.
“Hey,” she whispers softly. “It’s 10 pm, thought you’d like a coffee?” She places the purple mug on his desk with her purse, turning her attention back to what he’s doing.
“Thank you, I’m almost done here,” he says softly, finishing the red triangle he was making on the map.
“I’ve always found it fascinating how you do this,” she complimented him. “You’re so careful.”
“Like baking, it’s an exact science,” he smiled softly.
It made her giggle slightly, placing her hand back on his back as she moved in closer to look. He wanted her to stay there forever, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to focus. He tried his best to steady his hand as he finished the line.
Putting the yardstick back down and turning to her, she doesn’t move her hand, instead, softly moving to rest on his arm as she stands close to him. “How are you?”
He feels nervous for some reason, it’s not like she hasn’t been this close to him before. It’s just that she’s close and she smells wonderful and he wonders if her lips would be a better wake-up call than the coffee she brought.
He realizes he’s staring at her lips when he licks his own, “I’m good,” he furrows his brow and clears his throat with a nod.
She smirks at him, “how come you’re the only one still here? Hotch said it could wait till tomorrow?”
“I was waiting for you,” he admits, “but I got carried away setting this up, I never heard you come in?”
“Cause I didn’t,” she scrunches her nose slightly as she straightens her stance. “I saw you working hard and went right to get you a coffee.”
“You’re wonderful,” he blushes as the words slip out, trying his best to keep eye contact when all he wants to do is kiss her.
She pats his arm slightly as she backs up a little, grabbing her bag from where she set it on his desk. “I’m going to set up for the night, come talk to me before you leave?”
“Of course,” he says as she walks away, letting out a small sigh as he realizes just how badly he wants her.
He never gets to talk to her before he leaves, she’s on the phone when hotch comes storming in. Saying something about another body and making Reid leave with him. He’s busy for 3 days straight, thinking about her with every free thought he’s able to squeeze in.
He carries the rock from her in his pocket everywhere he goes; in his pants beside his keys, in his bag with his books, in his breast pocket, over his heart, behind a bulletproof vest. Feeling it press against his chest, a part of her keeping him safe where ever he went.
They finish the case with minimal damage, Spencer specifically making sure that Derek leaves all the doors on the hinges for Y/N’s sake, cleaning up any messes they make so she won’t have to hear about it over the phone. They all notice that he’s doing it for her, quietly appreciating the fact that Spencer is happy for a change, that there’s a glimmer of hope in his eyes again.
He arrives back at Quantico 30 minutes before her shift starts. Everyone else is packing up for the day while he sits at his desk, reading to occupy the time before she comes in.
Only she doesn’t.
30 minutes pass and she’s nowhere to be seen, it’s only 9:02 by the time he starts to panic. Wondering if she’s okay, hoping she’s just in the elevator or grabbing a coffee that’s actually good, somewhere outside of the office.
“Reid,” he hears Hotch calling him from his office door. “She just called in, her grandmother passed away last night so she won't be in.”
“Oh,” he furrows his brow, looking at him with confusion. “How did you know?”
“Penelope,” he smiles. “She’s still here too, and she knows where Y/N lives.”
“It wouldn’t be weird to go see if she’s okay?”
Hotch just smiles at him again, “go see her, Reid.”
Getting her address from Penelope felt a little weird, but she writes it on a sticky note for him and he’s out the door before she can even pry into what he’s going to say. Which is good, because he doesn’t know yet.
It’s late, but he stops by the little rock store on his way to her house. Seeing the lights still on and the same man from before behind the counter.
“Welcome back,” he’s overly cheerful for it being so late. “How did she like them?”
“She likes the ones I’ve given her so far,” he smiles, looking over the wall himself this time for the right one.
Scanning past every emotion and affirmation known to man as he looked around, picking out a beautiful pink Rhodonite for healing grief, supposedly acting as a hug from emotional troubles. And a Rainbow Moonstone for inner peace, harmony and strength.
“She’s lost someone recently?” He asks as Spencer places them on the counter.
“Her grandmother,” he says softly. “These are good, right?”
“They’ll be perfect, we also have amethyst bracelets, they’re good for healing and drawing in positive energy,” he points towards the small display of bracelets. Small purple stones separated with small gold beads.
He picks up 2 of them, placing them on the counter as well.
“Is she still just a crush?”
Spencer laughs lightly, “unfortunately.”
“She might be more after this,” he smirks, ringing him up. “I’ll give you a 2 for one deal on everything, I have a feeling you’ll be in a lot.”
Spencer thanks him as he pays, picking out a small purple bag for the rocks and bracelet. Placing one on his own wrist before leaving. Also picking up some cookie dough ice cream and a card at the corner store just beside her apartment. Remembering all the times Penelope, JJ or Emily has mentioned it being the best ice cream for crying.
He takes a very deep breath before knocking on her door, hoping to every god out there that she doesn’t find this incredibly inappropriate and weird.
“Spencer?” He hears her voice before she even opens the door, looking out the peephole at him.
She whips the door open, eyes puffy and swollen as she looks at him in shock. She’s in a big sweater and shorts, tears dripping down her cheeks as she shakes her head at him.
“I thought you could use some cheering up?” He awkwardly smiles, holding the ice cream up for her to see.
She wraps her arms around his middle, burying her face against his coat. Still crying as she holds him, he holds her with his free hand, shushing her as he presses his cheek to her head.
She pulls back with a sniffle, “come in,” she offers with an arm out, ushering him inside the small room as she closes the door.
He takes his shoes off, handing her the ice cream so he can take off his coat and satchel too. “This isn’t weird right?”
“Not at all,” she laughs slightly through the awkwardness. “You don’t know how much it means to me that you care this much.”
“I brought something for you,” he says as he struggles to dig everything out of his pocket.
He hands her the card and the little purple bag, seeing the overwhelming glance grow on her face. Her eyes grew wide as he mouth opened, speechless.
She opened the card first, reading the passage about grief that was already provided. Dealing with grief was something Spencer knew too well, adding something a little special to the bottom of the card.
“To live in hearts we left behind is not to die,” -Thomas Campbell. As long as you remember her, with a smile on your face and love in your heart, she will always be with you ♥︎ Spencer
She wipes her tears with her forearm, placing the card on the counter beside the ice cream before she opens the bag. She pulls out the bracelet first, absolute shock on her face.
“Spencer?” Is all she can say, in a high squeak as she shakes her head at him.
“I didn’t want you to be sad,” he says softly, stepping into her space and placing a hand on her arm. “I love seeing you smile, and I thought this could help.
He takes the bracelet from her grasp and places it over her hand. Resting it on her wrist softly, straightening it out against her sweater as she notices the matching on over his shirt sleeve.
“Oh this is so cute,” she swoons. “thank you, really Spencer.”
“And there are some rocks for grief healing in there too, one is supposedly like an emotional hug which should heal the grief and sorrow, and the other is more for inner peace and harmony,” he rambles away, not wanting her to miss anything.
She pours the rocks from the bag, into her hand, looking them over silently with a smile, “they’ll look great on my desk.”
“The purple looks nice on you too,” he compliments her, watching her eyes drift up to him.
She places the rocks on the counter before wrapping her arms around him once more. This time he’s able to actually hold her back, tight as possible as he rubs his hand over her back.
She smells like home, clean laundry and happiness. She’s soft and warm, he holds her perfectly against his chest, like she was a missing puzzle piece that someone finally found under the table, she fits into his life like she was supposed to be there.
She kisses his cheek softly before she pulls back, causing him to pull her into a real kiss on impulse. Connecting their lips as she sighs into the contact, melting into his grasp as she kisses him back.
Her lips are soft, fitting between his own gently as she breathes him in. Her hands reach up to grip his cheeks, kissing him again and again, placing pecks to his lips and cheeks with her eyes closed as he giggles.
“Thank you,” she whispers against his lips, “for everything.”
“I’d do anything for you,” he whispers back, kissing her one last time before she pulls away.
“I was actually about to smoke some weed on the fire escape and probably cry some more,” she laughs lightly. “would you like to join me?”
“I’ll stick with a bowl of ice cream,” he smiled awkwardly.
“Nice one,” she laughs as she opens the ice cream.
“What?”
“Oh, you didn’t even get the reference you made,” she laughs lightly, “to get high you smoke a bowl, so…”
It makes him smile, “I'm a comedian part-time.”
He makes her laugh again, loving the sound of her giggle replacing the tears. “Why aren’t you this funny at work?”
He thinks about it for a little, watching her scoop the ice cream into two bowls, “it’s a little hard to make jokes when people's lives are on the line, I know everyone else does but I get too focused.”
“They probably wouldn’t appreciate your jokes even if you did make them,” she says as she handed him a bowl with a spoon. “They’re kind of mean to you, in a family way but it still sucks sometimes to overhear.”
She walks into the living area then, grabbing a few blankets and opening the window to the fire escape. Crawling out to sit on the ledge, waiting for him.
“I don’t mind it,” he says as he finally sits down beside her.
She places the blanket over their laps, both of them sitting criss-cross applesauce as they ate.
“Do you like your job?” She asks him, just like he once asked her.
“Most of the time,” he nodded as he got brain freeze. The cold air, the cold ice cream, everything that was catching up to him as he scrunched his face up at the feeling.
She laughs at him only a bit before she’s also attacked by the brain freeze, holding the vein in her neck as she chokes out another laugh, trying to warm up the blood going to her head so the pain would stop.
They’re both just a mess of giggles together, unable to say any words as they let it all out. She leans her head on his shoulder lightly as they calm down to just soft chuckles. He presses his cheek against her head.
“Thank you, Spencer,” it sounds like she’s crying a bit. “My grandma was a lovely woman, she’d be glad I’m laughing right now.”
He reached out a hand for her to hold over the blanket. She interlocked their fingers softly, both cold from holding their ice cream bowls.
“If she was anything like you, I’m sure she was the most wonderful woman,” he says softly, not intending to make her cry but having a feeling he might.
“Would you be interested in holding me on the couch while I cry?” She asked softly, tears in her eyes as she looked up at him.
“Whatever you need, I’m here for you.”
He’s late for work the next morning.
Waking up to the smell of coffee, opening his eyes to a strange view. He’s on a couch he doesn’t recognize in a room he doesn’t know too well.
Then he remembers, they ended up cuddled up on the couch. He wakes up to the memory of her on his chest, crying softly as they listened to some music, he ran his hand over her back while she went through it all, blessed to have his support.
He fell asleep under her at some point, waking up alone with a blanket laid over him. He sat up to see her in the kitchen, pouring coffee into a travel mug.
“Good, you’re awake,” she smiles at him. “Coffee is ready, I uh, I have this button-up shirt from a guy friend, if you wanted to wear that to work today? So they don’t think you stayed here?”
“That’s smart,” he replies as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes.
Getting up, he uses the bathroom, changes and takes that coffee from her. He’s not expecting her to kiss him on the lips at the door, but she sends him off to work like an old housewife.
He doesn’t want to pull away from her, keeping her pressed against him as he leans in for 4 more kisses before she finally pushes him out into the hallway with a laugh, “get to work!”
“Fine,” he sighs, “are you going to be in tonight?”
“Yeah,” she smiles, “funeral is in West Virginia next week, so I’ll be in until then.”
“I’ll see you later?”
She nods slightly with a soft smile, “you’ll be seeing a lot of me soon, Spencer.”
“Good,” he winks at her before heading down the hallway and towards the street entrance.
He sighs as he walks outside, resting his back against the apartment complex door, taking a moment to think about everything that just happened, the night of company and the wonderful send-off.
It was something he could get used to.
He rushes into the briefing room when he arrives at Quantico, sitting down with his coffee and pretending he wasn’t late. Listening carefully to JJ’s presentation of the case as he flips through everything he missed already.
“Wheels up in 30,” he heard Hotch say as he zoned back in. “Nice of you to join us, Reid.”
“I know that travel mug from somewhere,” Derek said as he stared at Spencer, who was taking a sip to avoid the awkwardness.
“Hmm?” He played dumb.
“That’s Y/N’s. She washes it every morning when she leaves to go home, I see her do it every morning,” his eyes open wide. “Holy shit.”
“Isn’t that the same tie and slacks from yesterday?” Emily teased him as well.
“Her grandma died, I brought her ice cream and slept on the couch okay?” He all but yelled, flailing his arms slightly so they’d all back off.
Derek reached his fist out for him to pound it, “good man.”
Then Penelope noticed the bracelet, “did she get you that?”
He sunk his hand into his pocket then, “no.”
“What?” Emily and JJ asked in unison, straining their necks to try and get a good look at what she was talking about.
He nervously held his arm out for them, showing them the purple bracelet resting over the sleeve of his shirt. “I got one for her too, it’s for healing and peace. It’s what she needs right now.”
“Oh, so you love her,” Derek smiles as he teases him. Making everyone else in the room swoon slightly.
“Okay and?”
“Oh my god!” Most of them shout at him, embarrassing him to no end. He was so glad she wasn’t at work this morning or else she would be able to hear this from her desk.
“Did you kiss her?” Rossi pries, asking what everyone else was thinking.
He scrunches his face, pushing his glasses up slightly as he clears his throat, “a few times.”
“Is she your girlfriend?” JJ kept the questions coming.
“Not yet,” he said softly. “Kinda weird to walk into her apartment while she cries to say ‘hey sorry about the death in your family, want to date me?’”
“Yeah,” Emily agrees, shrugging lightly. “At least she knows you like her now, it’s been what? 2 years?”
“2 years, 3 months, 17 days and 43 minutes,” he confirms with a small nod and pressed lips.
“Gross,” Derek teases him.
“The plane is leaving in 10 minutes,” Hotch cut into their fun.
Making them all gather their things and continue the interrogation in the elevator, and eventually on the plane, and in the police precinct. Even Penelope called him in the middle of everything to bug him about her.
The questions were never-ending, everyone wanted to know how they even started talking, who made the first move, how he plans to ask her out. They were relentless, he almost regretted admitting to anything.
They bug him all throughout the day, all the way until they’re arriving back at the BAU late that same night. He almost doesn’t want to go back to the bullpen and see her with all of them, knowing they were going to follow and say something.
She’s waiting in the hall when the elevator doors open, a pressed-lipped smile on her face, “bad news.”
“Another one?” Hotch sighs, “have Garcia send us the info. Be at the table in 10.” He pushes his way out of the elevator, passed them all as they stare at Y/N.
“Hi?” She awkwardly waves at them all, showing off the bracelet on her wrist.
“See ya, Spence,” JJ and Emily say as they matt his shoulder, dragging Derek and Rossi towards the bullpen doors.
“Sorry,” he apologizes for them softly, stepping into her space.
She wraps him up in a quick hug, keeping one arm around his waist as she guides him towards the bullpen, “it’s fine, they’re going to have to get used to us being together.”
“Together?” He repeats her words.
“I only cry on my boyfriend's shoulders, if you're up for the title?” She teases him softly, pinching his side as they walk towards the doors.
“Can I frame “Dr. Spencer Reid, Y/N’s boyfriend” beside my Ph.D.’s?” He keeps his hand on her shoulder, holding each other slightly as they walk towards her desk. He felt like one of those kids who wouldn’t let go of their girlfriend's hand in the school hallway, attached to her at the hip.
“I’ll make one for you while you’re gone,” she laughs lightly.
They stop at her desk where he sees all rocks he got her collecting on the shelf, as well as a cup of coffee and his favourite kind of donut.
“Thought you deserved something nice too,” she says as she nudges his side.
He kisses her on the cheek as a thank you, “you’re welcome,” she smiles to herself. A feeling of pride growing in both their chests.
“See you later?” He asks as he picks up the coffee and donut, walking away slowly as she smiles at him.
“Come home to me safely, Doctor Reid,” her voice is just loud enough for everyone in the briefing room, where everyone is waiting at the window, watching them, deciding to put on a show in return.
He stops on the steps to look at her softly, “I’d fight a thousand unsubs to come home to you.”
“I’ll leave the light on,” she blows a kiss at him, making him blush a deep red.
He waves, making his way up the steps and into the briefing room. A smile on his face, heart thumping in his chest, all the support in the world swarming around him as everyone patted him on the back.
That tiger’s eye really did bring him good luck and happiness, and her name was Y/N.
917 notes · View notes
spencersawkward · 4 years ago
Note
if you feel comfortable with it, I’d love a prof Spence where reader is a student and goes to office hours to initiate ~smutty goodness~ but Spencer is reluctant at first bc his job but they flirt more and eventually sleep together
me n my professor kink when i saw this: 😏 anyway yes i am quite comfortable writing about this lol. i took some ✨creative liberties✨ with your request so i'm sorry if it isn't exactly what you wanted! 
summary: reader is a student in Dr. Reid’s class, but she’s been something of a poor student-- office hours are the only solution.
relationship: Fem!Reader/Professor!Spencer
content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, fingering, rough sex, super brief hair-pulling, creampie, dirty talk, spanking, age gap, degradation-- he gets pretty dominant oops.
word count: 4.5k
masterlist
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popping in a piece of gum, I make my way to the back of the hall. there are a few people here already, but it's a little early. I'm never early. in fact, I'm usually late; my other class is on the other side of campus, and getting here involves a lot of embarrassing speed-walking.
but here I am, five minutes ahead of schedule and actually in a decent seat. as I flip open my textbook and pull my laptop out of my bag to prepare to take notes, my gaze slides down to the corner of the room, where Dr. Reid is standing up with a pile of papers. he walks over to the girl in the front row, handing her the stack and gesturing for her to pass it along.
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. he's a total luddite. the first day, Dr. Reid spent about ten minutes rambling about the importance of reading from a physical book rather than online sources-- which, although I definitely agree with, means a lot more lugging around folders and organizing all the readings he gives out. if he wasn't so hot, I would have switched into another course.
and I know it's wrong to be daydreaming about my professor slamming me into a wall while he discusses the intricacies of quantum theory. the complete cliché of it is embarrassing. but still, I just can't stop thinking about him: how his fingers would feel around my throat, the smooth wooden surface of his desk against my cheek as he bends me over and pulls my panties to the side--
"glad to see you've decided to join us, today, Ms. Y/L/N." Dr. Reid's voice startles me out of my thoughts. he's standing towards the front of the room while students file in. his hands are resting in his pockets with his eyebrows pleasantly raised.
"glad to see you've noticed." I retort, too irritated with his comment to care about being polite.
a couple people look at me. even though I'm generally not on time, he tends to just glance my way when I walk in and leaves it at that. I know he doesn't like it, although I personally don't care. I hate this course.
he seems visibly surprised by my response but doesn't reply, gaze lingering on mine before he turns to speak to a student trying to get his attention. I bite back a smile. fucking asshole.
as usual, Dr. Reid writes in his thin, messy lettering on the board while wandering around the front of the room. he's quite fidgety, even though his voice doesn't betray any sort of nervousness. it's like he's naturally overactive.
every word out of his mouth is enunciated, sometimes spoken faster when he gets particularly impassioned by the subject. he's interesting to look at, too. messy curls and a nice suit, stubble that straddles the line between refinement and ruggedness.
I type quickly, but it isn't fast enough and the strange illustrations he does on the board only complicate things. I try to write them down in my notebook, but my handwriting is jagged; sometimes it's hard to read. when a student raises her hand for a clarification, I take the opportunity to catch up.
my head jerks up as soon as I'm finished and he's looking at me while he speaks. even from so many feet away, the intensity strikes me. he's gesticulating and crossing the room. I hold eye contact.
I wonder if he dates often; a couple of the girls in my row always stare at him throughout the lectures. he seems to be completely unaware of the effect he has on people. sometimes I'll see him in the hallway and he has his nose buried in a book, or a to-go cup of coffee, or both. either way, there seems to be no more room in that head of his for romance.
which, naturally, makes me curious about how he looks when he's on the edge of orgasm. if that composure is replaced with a contorted pleasure. I want to break him.
it's like he can read my thoughts, because Dr. Reid averts his gaze. my stomach twists with a strange anticipation. he avoids looking my way for the rest of the time.
towards the end of class, I start to pack my things to go. I have three papers to write, and my utter lack of interest in this is making me eager to leave. I shove my textbook into my bag the second my professor starts to make closing remarks.
"don't forget that we have a midterm in two weeks!" he says in a slightly louder voice as people start to move around. "if you have any questions, my office hours are posted on the bulletin board outside."
at this, my eyebrows rise. I forgot about the midterm. I have a study calendar set up for all my subjects, but I've purposefully been putting this one off. I'm not super into math. and it doesn't help that most of my time is spent not listening. when I am, it doesn't make sense.
as I stand up and gather my stuff, I hear someone clearing their throat a couple feet away. my head turns to see Dr. Reid leaning against his desk.
"Ms. Y/L/N, can I see you for a second?"
my heart stutters in my chest. is this about my attitude? he's never asked to see me outside of lessons before.
I frown, making my way to him with a deliberate pace. the tension in the room builds as I watch the last of his students shuffle out of the room. my head turns from the door to him; my breath catches a little in my throat at the set of his jaw. part of me hopes I get yelled at.
"I'm concerned about your participation in this class." he says. his voice isn't cruel, but it is brutally honest— which is worse. participation? I feel my fist clench at my side. my professors don't usually say anything if you aren't doing things up to their expectations; if you aren't, then they give you a bad grade. simple as that.
"is this about me being late?" I ask. he lets out a sigh before answering. he sounds disappointed.
"you're constantly tardy, and when you hand in your homework, you barely seem to have put in the effort. it's messy."
"messy?" I start to get annoyed. I'm only doing this so that I can get my degree. it's a fucking requirement. even though I'm not the biggest fan of mathematics, I still do my best and hand in my assignments on time. plus, the latest I arrive is five minutes-- it's not like I'm stumbling in halfway through the lesson.
"you've never come to office hours to ask for help or explained your lateness, which I, as your professor, would have appreciated." he scolds. honestly, I don't know what to say. my eyes narrow.
"I have my studio class on the other side of campus." I explain. "I should have emailed about that and I'm sorry, but I'm also not being lax about my work."
he goes around to the other side of his desk and glances up at me while he organizes some loose documents to pack away. he looks way too good when he's exasperated: his hands tighten around the papers, his eyebrows come together in this cute way. his tie is a little crooked, too.
"are you struggling with the content?"
"sometimes, yeah. but I can handle reaching out for help if I need it." I reply. he's pissing me off with these questions. I can see from the expression on his face that he's surprised by my reaction.
"really?" he slides some books into his messenger bag. that was definitely sarcastic; I know it was. "because it doesn't really seem like you have."
"I like to find help on my own." I shoulder my bag and cross my arms over my chest. there's no way he's gonna talk to me like that and expect me to not respond in kind.
"I'm reserving a slot on Wednesday evening for you," he looks up and holds my gaze. hazel irises that dare me to challenge him further. "I want you in office hours so that we can figure out how you're gonna catch up before the midterm."
"fine." I turn on my heel and leave. I know I'm not supposed to talk to my professor like that, or even to behave with such apprehension. but something about him makes me angry in the kind of way that settles in my stomach. I hate that he's right. I'm not going to do well on that damn test if I don't get some help.
but that doesn't mean I can't have some fun with it.
when I rush into his office on Wednesday evening, the sun is just starting to set through his window. there's a pinkish glow that smooths over Dr. Reid's desk as he glances up at me. I had to run to get here.
"you're late." he nods to the clock on the wall. I roll my eyes.
"only one minute, though. I had another class."
he sighs and folds his hands on his desk. "how are you doing today, Ms. Y/L/N?" a strangely polite question for the look on his face. he's frustrated with me.
"I'm quite well, Dr. Reid." I smile brightly, slightly excited by the anger on his face, and sit at the chair in front of his desk.
"I didn't know you were interested in art." he says simply. I'm confused for a moment before I remember that I told him that the course before his is a studio lesson.
"I didn't know you cared."
"do you make a habit of that?" he quirks an eyebrow.
"of what?" my expression is saccharine.
"being rude to people who control your grades."
"unless you're considering being unethical in your practices and allowing your personal opinion of me to influence my grade, then no." I counter. he's silent for a moment, taking in my words like they've left a mark on him.
"well, you'd most likely fail if I asked you to leave my office hours right now. whose fault would that be?" he fidgets with his hands and leans forward just a bit, his voice dropping to a lower tone. I bite back a smile.
"you wouldn't."
"and why is that?" he baits.
"because you're not a shitty professor, Dr. Reid," I lean back in my chair and cross my legs. "as angry as you are, you wouldn't be able to live with yourself if you kicked me— a struggling student— out of here for giving you a little attitude."
"a little attitude?" he scoffs. "you've spent the whole semester completely ambivalent."
"not completely." I shrug.
"Y/N, you draw all over your tests and leave at least one problem half-finished every time. you obviously aren't learning." he chuckles mirthlessly. I concede this point; I like to doodle when I'm bored. and there's absolutely nothing more boring to me than numbers.
"okay," I sit up and rest my elbows on the edge of his desk, staring at him. "then teach me."
Dr. Reid holds my gaze for a long moment. we're suspended, it seems, as his lips part and he finds himself speechless. the way I said the words obviously has another layer to it-- he just has to decide whether or not to take the bait.
"what are you struggling with?" he clears his throat and sits up a bit straighter in his seat. that answers my question, I guess. I poke my tongue between my teeth gently, but then pull out my notebook and flip it to a page with some problems outlined on it.
"these." I toss the thing onto his side and he begins to run through the assignment. I watch him pick up a pen and start to explain the steps, slipping into his usual educational tone. his shoulders relax a little as he writes.
I can't see right from the angle I'm at, so I stand and come around onto his side. I hear him pause his speaking for a moment at my proximity, but he doesn't move away.
"does that make sense?" he asks me once he's finished running through the first problem. he basically did all the work. the professor's head turns to gauge my reaction to the explanation, but his eye line is right at the hem of my skirt-- which is already pretty short. for all his attempts to be subtle, he gulps and looks up at me.
"mostly." I brush a piece of hair behind my ear and pretend to scratch at a spot on my upper thigh, dragging the edge of my skirt with it until he can see the smooth skin beneath, practically begging for his touch. "can I ask you a question?"
"sure." he keeps his eyes almost too focused on mine. I try to hide the smile tugging at my lips. now or never, I guess.
"what's your policy on professor/student relationships?"
"my-- my what?" this time, he's audibly scattered when he turns to me. his eyes are wide, dark. even he can't hide his feelings.
"you know," I run my fingertips over the tweed shoulder of his jacket. I can sense the tension beneath his clothes. "like, your policy on fucking a student."
"I--" his cheeks turn pink. he's flustered, albeit not rejecting my touch. "I've never had to think about it before."
"hmm," I look off to the side as if considering this point. his chair is fully turned to face me now, and I'm standing in front of him, almost completely his for the taking. all he has to do is close the gap. "well, what are you thinking about it right now?"
"it's wrong." he stumbles over the words.
"why?"
"well, I mean, you're a student--"
"for a semester that's almost over." I cut him off. he opens and closes his mouth. I take a deep breath, toying with the hem of my skirt. "I know you've been looking at me during class."
"w-what?"
"you're pretty good at hiding it, but you call on me a lot and you get all messed up when I hold eye contact too long during lectures." I say.
he looks down and back up apologetically. he's just sitting there, lap wide open. so I do what any sane girl in my position would do: I climb into it, straddling him and resting my arms around his neck. he sucks in a breath.
"you pretend I'm such a pain," I lean down by his ear, my core drawing over his pants. he tenses as I speak. "but you like that I'm your little problem."
"Y/N..." he trails off, but his hips are bucking up into mine.
"see?" I look between our bodies at his movements, then at him. I smirk as I look into those lust-darkened eyes. after a moment of him not speaking, I straighten. "look, I'll leave you alone if it really bothers you--"
as I start to get off his lap, he grabs me and pulls me back down. the force hits my center at just the right angle and I let out a slight mewl. he hears the sound and before I can register the pleasure, he grabs my face and yanks me closer to kiss him.
god, he feels so good. I rock my hips against his while our lips pass over each other hungrily. so much tension built up over the past few months, so many thoughts I've had of him, now coming to fruition. it's amazing.
"not so 'wrong' now, is it?" I chuckle against his mouth.
"shut up." he orders. one moment of broken contact to slide my top over my head and throw it on the floor.
I sigh as he starts to kiss across my jaw and down my throat. "I like when you talk like that, Dr. Reid."
one hand grips my hips tighter and he releases a groan against my skin.
"is that why you're such a fucking brat in my class?" he bites my collarbone and I moan. "because you want me to put you in your place?"
"mhmm." I hum. his fingertips move under my skirt, sliding up my thighs and toying with the waistband of my panties. he teases me by grazing my slit over the fabric, inhaling sharply at the wet patch.
"sitting in the back of my room, fucking dripping..." he mumbles to himself as he starts to rub me.
"touch me." I breathe out, trying to gain the friction that I need.
"not if you're gonna be a brat." he removes his hand and I let out a frustrated noise as I try to find the pressure I need elsewhere by grinding down on him. he grunts at the way I pant into his mouth, trying to kiss him with every chance I get. his lips are so smooth and sweet against mine. there's something affectionate about it even in its ferocity.
"I'll be good." I practically beg.
"that's what I thought." he slides his tongue over his bottom lip as he watches me whimper on top of him.
"come on, Spencer..." I use the name for the first time and he grabs my face in his hand, squeezing my cheeks.
"not my name, sweetheart." he stares into my eyes expectantly and I smirk.
"you're fucked up, doctor."
"so are you."
after he says that, he lifts me off his lap and stands up, pushing between my shoulder blades until my face is pressed onto the desk. I let out a needy whine, wiggle my ass back in hopes of finding his crotch, but he's not willing to give me that, yet.
instead, he gently touches my skirt, flipping it up so that he can see my ass. immediately, he starts to knead it. my palms are pressed flat against the desk with anticipation, silently thankful that my panties are still on. I think I'd be dripping down my thighs if they weren't.
"are you gonna be more respectful?" his voice is low, one hand tracing over my back. I shake.
"mhmm."
"I won't spank you if you don't use your words, sweetheart."
"yes." I choke out, no longer wanting to give any sort of resistance. I had no idea there was this side of him, and I love it.
he loves it too, apparently, because his hand comes down sharply on my ass. I yelp at the contact and he runs his fingers over the point of impact, rubbing the flesh gently.
"too hard, baby?" he checks.
"harder." I beg. I can't see his face, but I can sense his smile as if it's my own. his palm hits me again, and I gasp.
"you like being punished?"
"yes." strangled and desperate.
he slips his finger beneath the fabric of my panties, collecting my essence and letting out a quiet moan when he feels me. I push my hips against his fingers, partly expecting him to remove all the pressure, but he doesn't bother waiting.
he slips his index inside and I gasp. starts to push in and out, his silence proving his arousal. I can practically feel his eyes on me. the pace increases a bit and he slides in his middle finger. I buck against the desk.
"oh fuck!" I cry out as he starts to go faster. he curls them against my walls and I arch my back.
"two fingers and you're already breaking?" Spencer chuckles as he moves inside me. he keeps one hand on my ass while he does it, starting to finger me at a ridiculous speed while I pant and moan and cry.
"I--" I gulp down air. "I need you in it."
he bends down by my ear, never breaking his rhythm. my legs are shaking from the force. "you need my cock?"
"yes," I feel myself closing in around him. "god, yes."
"you're lucky I wanna fuck you so bad." he mutters. I grin as I hear the clink of his belt coming undone, the sliding through the belt loops, the sound of him stripping down to nothing. I can feel my excitement on the inside of my thighs, spread around by his reckless fingers as he removes my panties and skirt.
he grinds himself against my pussy, coating himself in me, while he releases low, longing moans. I suck in a breath when the head pushes in, every inch pushing me open a little more. I don't have the ability to form words, so I bite my lip and grip onto the edge of the desk until my knuckles turn white.
his breath stops for a moment before he groans.
"so ready for me."
he's not even all the way in, and he has to pause to let me adjust. when he taps the inside of my thigh for me to part them more, I do it quickly and beg him to fill me up. I can barely take the pressure between my hips, but it burns in an inviting way.
"keep going." I direct him. he runs his hands over the curve of my waist and starts to thrust into me at a rate that leaves me panting. it's not too fast or slow, just impatient and needy. every sound that spills from his lips turns me on more.
"where'd the attitude go, huh?" he digs his hips into mine. his cock hits my cervix and I squeak against the wood, but he holds my back down. I don't even try to argue with him, too overcome with the pleasure that's coursing through my limbs. he starts to build up his speed. "don't have much to say when you're getting fucked?"
"Dr. Reid--" I moan.
he plows into me so hard, the desk shifts on the floor and he grabs my ass with both hands.
"take it, baby. fucking take it."
I get up on my elbows to look behind me, just to glimpse how he looks as he gets closer. his curls have fallen more in his face, and his shirt is gone. I want to touch him desperately, to feel the lovely skin of his torso and arms and everything else, but he keeps me down for the most part. all I get is the sight of his mouth open and his hips moving quickly against mine.
"look at me, there you go." he grabs my face and holds me there, our eyes locked. mine are welling at the sheer overwhelming pleasure inside, but his are dark and intense. they search mine for something I can only hope to offer.
"that feels so good, Dr. Reid." I pant. he bites his lip as he watches my mouth hanging open in lecherous shock.
"I bet it does," he explores my body. "coming in here, hoping I fuck you like you deserve. you're lucky I'm going easy on you."
"thank you." I whine.
"you might need some extra lessons, yeah?" he grunts out, moving into me with a bruising force.
"yes, please." I whisper. my voice is practically gone at this point, my mind entirely focused on the knot building in my stomach.
"what was that, baby?" he pulls my hair gently.
"yes— fuck— yes, please, Dr. Reid."
"what a beautiful girl." he smirks. I whimper when he runs his fingernails down my ribcage. I can feel it coming from the way he starts to move tumultuously, every thrust pushing harder and seeking more release. it's fervent, how he takes me and grips my hips like the force itself will push him over the edge.
"I'm so close..." I breathe out as I try for as much friction as I can.
"show me," he drops down so his stomach is flush to my back. "show me how you cum, Y/N."
the way he says my name-- husky and warm and full of lust-- causes me to snap. I cry out as he reaches around to clamp a hand around my mouth, climaxing and pulsing around his dick as I drop down against the surface again. I want him to finish inside, so I do my best to keep him here. and his thrusts are getting more staccato as he chases the sensation my walls create.
"can I fill you, angel?" he asks. he's breathing right by my ear, and the feeling is sending shivers down my spine. I love how his weight feels.
"yes." I moan and he slides his fingers into my mouth. I suck on them while he orgasms, jerking into my pussy and letting out unholy sounds of ecstasy. he says unintelligible things in the throes of his orgasm. pounds into me until I'm sure I won't be able to walk tomorrow.
"jesus christ, Y/N." he slows to a stop. when he pulls his cock out of me, the absence makes me whine. I miss his body already.
"oh my god." I clench my hands into fists as I try to catch my breath. I'm still bent over the desk as though I've been completely sapped of all my energy. I suppose I have. he doesn't touch me for a moment in the spirit of letting me recover from the small shudders still running over my skin.
"that was great." he says after we've both had time to fill our lungs. I push myself onto my elbows again.
"correct." I grin and straighten up more until I'm standing. he stares at me, at the cum now dripping down my legs, entranced.
"let me get you something to clean up." he snaps out of it a little. I can't stop looking at him, either, in love with the way he moves and the way he breathes after exerting himself on my body.
"come here." I bite my lip. for some reason, despite what we just did, this is scarier than everything else. he steps closer and I reach up, kiss him softly. part of me worries that he'll pull away and be terrified. maybe that he'll tell me that I've read too much into this.
he's much gentler than before. our first kiss was full of need and primal desire, but this is more affectionate. I remove myself from his embrace.
"okay, you can go now." I giggle. his fingertips linger on my waist and he smiles. I push his shoulder. "I literally have your cum all over me-- go."
"fine." he starts to put his clothes on.
"does this mean I get an A?" I joke. Spencer shakes his head.
"nice try. when we're done cleaning you up, we're gonna sit down and figure this out."
I let out a whine, and he kisses my cheek before looking me in the eyes. "it'll be fun. I promise."
"math is not fun."
"I can't believe I like a girl who doesn't enjoy such a beautiful subject." he rolls his eyes and I giggle. he's perfect.
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mandoalorian · 4 years ago
Text
Believer [Dark!Din Djarin x F!Reader] *SMUT*
Summary: After two months since your last encounter, The Mandalorian returns to confession. (Part two of Sinner)
Rating: 18+ only
Warnings: 18+ SMUT, religion kink, confession box blowjob, sex in a place of worship, unprotected p in v, female receiving oral, fingering, dark!Din, rough sex, hints of degradation, teasing, orgasm denial, arranged marriage mention.
Word Count: 3000>
Masterlist
REBLOGS APPRECIATED!<3
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It had been two months since your encounter with The Mandalorian, and you hadn’t seen him since. Even after your father returned from Naboo, Din remained absent from attending mass. You were beginning to believe you might never see him again, and yet, you clung onto hope. It was all you had. When your father went to bed, you’d stay in the chapel late, hoping he’d come in again. It was exhausting. Surely The Mandalorian still had sins to confess. Your biggest fear was that he was deliberately trying to avoid you. He had this dark aura to him, and so if his only intention that night was to wreck your innocence, you wouldn’t be surprised. The truth is, you’d let him do it a million times over.
You missed him. You missed his gruff nature and his bluntness, and you missed the sound of his voice, with or without the modulator of his helmet. And ah-- his helmet-- the shiny silver beskar. You missed that too, although your encounter with Din had left you yearning to know more. You wonder what he looked like underneath the helmet. You remember the dark trail of hair that started at his navel and led down to the waistband of his underwear. From that alone, you’d made the judgement that he’s probably brunette. You wondered how well groomed he was, whether or not he opted to be clean shaven or don facial hair. But most importantly, you wondered about his eyes. You believed that the eyes were the most telling feature about a person, and that they could hold a thousand secrets. Could they be blue, or green, or perhaps even the most beautiful shade of honey brown?
It was a Sunday night, just shy off two a.m., and you let out a tired yawn. You were beginning to think he’d never show again, and that you were foolish for waiting up so late. You had visions of the Mandalorian waltzing back into the chapel and rescuing from this lifestyle. You had dreams of him whisking you away and showing you the galaxy. So, on this particular night, when Din returned, you weren’t even sure if he was really him.
You weren’t sure how long he had been standing there for, leaning against the confession box, watching you drift in and out of sleep as you curled up on the front pew. His beskar clad arms were folded across his chest and his head was tilted slightly. He was eerily quiet, and when your eyes finally met his (through his visor, at least), his presence was ghost-like.
“Tired?” The Mandalorian asked, his deep, modulated voice breaking the silence. Although it was less of a question and more of an acknowledgement. He was the first to speak, and of course it was a typical cocky remark. You didn’t even realise how much you’d missed that side to him; the rude and degrading side. That was how you knew it was really him. You’d been a good girl your entire life; your mind was simply not equipped to make this stuff up. “Did you miss me?”
You rubbed your eyes and stood up from your seat on the pew, taking a second to process his presence. Did you miss him? You’d been touching yourself to the memory of his cock every single night since your encounter, and he had the audacity to ask if you missed him? Of course, you’d never willingly admit to that. Especially not to him. 
When you didn’t reply, he stalked over to the front pew, his broad shoulders looming over you.
“Went back to visiting brothels,” Din revealed, bringing his gloved hand to your neck and giving it a small squeeze. “But they just don’t do it like you.”
“We aren’t in the confession box, Mando.” you snapped back, and his grip around you tightened as he chuckled. You nervously diverted your gaze from his and he raised his hand so he could grab your chin. He tilted it upwards, forcing you to look at him.
“Well, I’m here to confess.”
As you walked Din back over to the box, you noticed your panties were already slick with arousal. You’d anticipated this moment for months, but of course, you weren’t inclined to give into him that easy. You were excited though, hoping and praying that this would turn into more than just a typical confession session.
“State your name for the records.” you sigh, following procedure as you shuffled down onto your chair. 
“Din Djarin.”
The way he spoke his own name was just as beautiful as you had remembered. 
“And why are you here today?” you asked. 
There was a brief silence before you were met with the Mandalorian’s low, gravelly voice. He’d taken off his helmet. 
“I want you to suck my cock.” 
His request winded you. Blunt and straight to the point. Honestly? You should’ve seen it coming. The thought of him fucking your mouth sent you in a frenzy, and you found yourself fighting the urge to touch yourself right then and there.
“That’s your confession?” you gulped, your fingers fiddling with the royal blue velveteen curtain that separated you both from seeing one another. You sighed and shook your head. “We can’t…” you trailed off, and you hated the way the words tasted on your tongue. This was everything you had waited for and now you were denying him? “It was wrong of us to do in the first place and I— it’s going to take a lot for me to move past it.”
“Do you still think about it?” Din asked, and his question bore a lot of weight as he reminisced on the night you and him spent together.. Inside the confession box was cold, so much so that a  shiver that ran down your spine.
“It doesn’t matter,” you said softly. “I’m… getting married in the Summer.” you revealed, almost shyly. Din felt his freeze over and heart sink into his chest. Married? So fast? When he made no comment, you explained further. You tried to sound enthusiastic and positive, but the words just died as they left your lips. “My father found a minister who preaches on Takodana. He’s a little older than I, and even trained as a monk for several years. I hear Takodana is beautiful. Have you been before?”
Din scoffed incredulously, but you weren’t sure if the noise that came from the back of his throat was answering your question, or if it just signified his response to everything you had just said. He couldn’t believe it. “Just like I told you the last time we met,” he hummed knowingly. “If you marry him, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”
This wasn’t the first time he had given you attitude. And it wouldn’t be the last.
“And what do you suggest I do?” you spat back. You weren’t just going to let him stick around if he was only going to make you feel bad for your decisions and what he considered to be poor life choices. 
Din laughed, and if there wasn’t a closed curtain between you both, you would have smacked him right then and there. “I suggest you do what I ask without all the backchat,” he growled. “I suggest you get on your knees, open your pretty mouth, and suck my cock.”
You wanted to argue. You so desperately wanted to argue with him until he was begging for you, but you had waited too long for this too. You were desperate to taste him.
“Stand up, take off your pants, you instructed, biting your lip as you heard his zipper go down.
Once he was ready, Din stood with his hands flat against the wooden wall of the confession box, and you peeled back the curtain. You fell to your knees and wrapped your hands around his thick length, already revelling in how hot and heavy it felt. Din’s eyes snapped shut as you pumped his manhood. He’d missed the feeling of your soft hands. You gathered his precum which was leaking from the pink tip and rubbed it along his shaft.
Teasingly, you pressed a delicate kiss to his weeping slit. The Mandalorian couldn’t help but buck his hips at the tender contact. “More.” he huffed, his once flat hands bunching into a fist when you press in another kiss. But this time, your kiss turns into a small kitten lick as you taste him on your tongue. And Maker, he tastes good.
“Stay still sweetheart.” you grumbled, and your voice sent a vibration straight through his core. Sweetheart? He huffed again.
He was fully and achingly hard now. You opened your mouth and wrapped your lips around his head, sucking longingly. You removed your hands from his shaft and closed your eyes as you pushed down on him, trying to take his full, thick length in your virgin throat. It took about a minute for you to get fully adjusted, but the second you began to bob your head and suck him off, Din swore he was seeing stars. With every thrust of your mouth, you managed to push deeper and deeper until the curve of his nose was pressed against the soft tufts of brown hair just above his cock.
When you felt him twitch in your mouth, you knew he was close. You reached your hand through the dip in the curtain and began to cradle his balls, massaging them as his moans became louder and more guttural. As much as you wanted him to shoot his salty load down your throat, you knew that this might be the only chance you got to dominate your control over him. So, at the very last second before he could cum, you pulled off his cock with a ‘pop’. 
He cursed out loud at the sudden loss of contact, and you wiped the trail of saliva mixed with precum from your lips. You could hear Din fussing from the otherside of the curtain and just as you were about to ask him what was he doing, his hand shot between the material as he passed you a piece of black cloth. Truly, it looked like he’d ripped a piece of his undershirt to craft it. When you took it from him, albeit hesitantly, his voice gave you instruction.
“Put it on,” he ordered. “Blindfold yourself.”
His voice had dropped an octave since you denied him of his orgasm. 
Nevertheless, you obliged, wrapping the material around your eyes so you couldn’t see a thing. “Done.”
Din came out from the confession box and opened the door to your side, carefully guiding you out and walking you over to the candlelit altar.
“Lie down.” he told you gruffly.
It was hard to make a judgement in regards to where exactly in the chapel you were, but for some reason, you felt as though you could trust him. He pushed you back down to your knees and you felt the soft carpet beneath you. 
Your pussy was dripping wet at this point, desperate for some kind of relief. In one swift motion, Din ripped your robe from you and you felt the material tear. He threw the garments to the floor and immediately latched his mouth to your breast. His tongue swirled around the hardening bud of your nipple and with his free hand, he began to caress and squeeze the breast that wasn’t receiving the attention of his lips. He palmed at the soft flesh and revelled in the way your moans escaped from your lips. He trailed his late hand down your stomach and stopped when he hit the hem of your panties. Din pulled off you and swapped over, this time sucking your other breast, even nibbling this time with his teeth. He lowered his hand and began to rub you through the thin white material of your underwear.
You felt him chuckle darkly against your chest as he felt just how wet you were. It was all for him, and he’d barely even touched you yet. He swirled his index finger over your clit and even through the cotton, the sensation was indescribable. You wanted nothing more than for him to rip off your panties the same way he’d ripped off your robes.
Din drew back from you and held you by your shoulders, slowly pushing you down so you were laying on your back with your legs spread open for him. He began to tug at your waistband and you lifted your ass up so he could pull down your panties.
He tossed them by your robes and parted your legs once more. He admired the way your cunt looked under the glowing amber candlelight, the way your juices sparkled like they were asking to be ravished by him.
“So pretty.” Din praised.
Din couldn’t contain himself any longer. He latched his tongue against your clit and began sucking profusely. That’s when you realised one of the questions you’d been dwelling on for the past two months had been answered. He definitely had facial hair. The roughness of his stubble grazing the softness of your cunt felt phenomenal. Every now and again, he’d pull back and separate your folds with his fingers, focusing his erratic tongue on your exposed sweet spot. He’d lap you up like a starved man, moaning at the taste of your arousal on his tongue.
Just when you thought you wouldn’t be able to take it anymore, Din plunged two fingers deep inside of you without warning. You let out a yelp and arched your back as he tongue fucked you even faster. You grew impossibly wetter and he began to stretch you out, prepping you for his thick cock.
He pushed one orgasm out of you first though, and left you shaking and twitching and struggling to regain your breath as you squirmed around on the floor, completely at his demand. Before you could even come down from your thigh, he positioned himself at your entrance and thrust his cock inside of you.
“Oh— oh fuck, I’ve missed this.” he groaned, tossing his head back as pleasure ran through his veins. Tears pricked your eyes, not that Din would’ve known, since you were blindfolded and all. He set a rough and ruthless pace, his hips snapping into yours as he got drunk on the feeling of your perfect walls clamping around him. “‘Missed this.. mi— missed you.”
You chanted his name over and over again like it was the sweetest prayer to ever leave your lips. 
“Oh f—fuck Din,” you gasped, your fingernails digging into the muscles of his back. “Feels so good.”
He couldn’t believe how wet and tight you were. You locked your legs around his ass, signalling for him to keep going. Din looked down at you, revelling in the way you were gasping beneath him. In that moment, he wished he could remove the blindfold from you and look into your beautiful eyes as he fucked you senseless. His gaze dropped down to your pretty, soft lips, and he had to fight the urge to kiss you. 
Din groaned when he increased his speed and their bodies made the most unadulterated wet sounds as skin slapped skin. Your toes curled as you felt another orgasm bubble up inside the pit of your tummy. Din was close too, in fact-- he’d been holding back this entire time. His breathing became laboured and with one final thrust, The Mandalorian let out a strangled cry, his body seizing up as he came. You felt his manhood throb inside of you, the pulsations pushing you over the edge as you clenched around him, tight like a vice. 
Din stayed hovering over you as you both came down from your high, and he waited until his cock softened before pulling out of you and rolling over and laying next to you.
You shuffled into his warm chest and he wrapped his strong arms around you. The silence between you both was comfortable, as it always had been. The dynamic between you both felt so natural, despite both of you heeding very different personalities. 
Once again, Din was the first to speak.
“Leave, right now, with me.” He whispered, cradling your naked body as it warmed by the candlelight. 
“I can’t.” you replied sadly, blinking away the unshed tears that glazed your sparkling eyes. You wished you could. You wished there was a way around all of this, where you didn’t have to stay and marry the Takodanian preacher, but everything had already been planned. And your father, the grand bishop, would never approve.
“I’ve been on the run my whole life,” Din revealed, shifting his weight slightly. His strong arms tightened around you and his fingers traced comforting circles on your tummy. You nuzzled your head into his chest and relished his scent, knowing that this might well be the last time you see The Mandalorian. “I’ve seen the entire galaxy. Takodana is beautiful. I do think you’ll like it…” Din paused. “But I think you’ll like spending time with me even more.”
At one point, you might have laughed at his arrogance, but in the softness of the moment, you realised, he was right. You didn’t want to leave Din and get married to a complete stranger. You just didn’t want to leave Din.
“What can you offer me?” you asked the Mandalorian after a pause. You wouldn’t ask for much. You had grown up in a very minimalistic household after the grand bishop renounced all his material possessions. The question was more so rhetoric.
Din leaned into you, his warm breath fanning over the shell of your ear.
“Freedom.”
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edna-skiffens · 4 years ago
Text
The Best Medicine
Summary: You are in the hospital, but you can never sleep in hospitals. Good thing you have a very attractive night shift nurse who is willing to help out.
Word Count: 4.5K
Warnings: hospitals, light med talk, bad medical writing, fluff
A/N: Please ignore the plot holes or the fact that this isn’t the most realistic and also I know this isn’t how discharge works at the hospital.. It’s called fiction for a reason, darling. Also, I left the reason the reader is in the hospital open ended bc some of us may have medical conditions/reasons that we can attach to this, but if not I tried to keep it vague enough on purpose so that you can imagine whatever. Also if you like Nurse!Tom and have requests for him lmk bc i’m happy to write for him.
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Toss and turn. Toss and turn. The routine was getting old. This was your third night in the hospital and sleep just wasn’t coming to you.
Maybe it was the medicine they had you on. Maybe it was the constant symphony of sounds and people passing in the hallway. Maybe it was because you weren’t at home in your own bed.
Maybe it was just because you were in the hospital.
You couldn’t be sure. What you were sure of is that you weren’t falling asleep anytime soon.
Feeling another presence in the room, you looked from the ceiling to the doorway where you saw Tom, one of the night shift nurses, standing cautiously.
“I didn’t wake you did I?” He asked as he eased his way inside.
“Nope.”
“So no sleep again, huh?”
“Nope.”
“Sorry darling. Let’s go ahead and get these vitals over with.” He took your blood pressure, oxygen levels, temperature and wrote it down in your chart. Putting the clipboard back on its hook at the end of the bed, he looked up at your tired face. “Okay. So now about that sleep. What do you think will help?”
“Not being in the hospital.”
He chuckled lightly while walking back towards your bedside.
“I know. You hate it here. You’ve made that very clear and I try not to take too much offense to it.” You let out a slight laugh and held back the fact that he was the best part of this whole experience. He almost made it worth it. “I’m sorry we can’t give you any sleeping medication. Do you think it’ll help if I talk to you?”
“You mean tell me bedtime stories?” You couldn’t help but tease him at the adorable suggestion, though it sent a swarm of butterflies off in your stomach.
“I was thinking more like bore you ‘till you fell asleep. But whatever works.”
“You’re the nurse. If you think it’ll help.” You both sat there smirking at each other for a moment. Something unspoken floating in the air between you two.
“Well, I need to finish my round of vitals first. I’ll come check on you when I’m done and if you’re still up we’ll see about those stories.”
“I’ll be here.”
About fifteen or twenty minutes later you heard a light tap on your door followed by “Still awake?”
“Always.”
“You up for a chat?” Tom asked as he made his way to the stool then rolled slightly closer to your bed.
“Got nothing better to do.” You teased again.
“Okay. Well you should probably lay down.”
“Oh. It’s going to be that kind of story, huh?” His laugh was so beautiful and you were happy you were the cause of it.
“No.” He corrected in between laughs “The goal is to get you to sleep. So sitting up won’t help.”
“Right. Right.”
“Well.. anything in particular you’d like to talk about?”
“Why did you choose to become a nurse?”
“Ahhh. Good question. So I actually went to an art school.” You couldn’t help the brief expression of surprise that crossed your face. “I know. Shocking. I did training specifically in dance and gymnastics and I loved it.”
“Wait, so what happened?” You asked, turning on your side to face him more comfortably.
“Well one day we were rehearsing for a show and I fell. Ruined my knee. Had to do physical therapy for months. I tried to get back into it, but it just wasn’t the same. However, through that process I learned a lot about medicine and the health side of things. It really turned me on to it. And when my Plan A got a bit messed up I thought ‘hey, this could work’. So far it’s treated me pretty well.”
You smiled at Tom, admiring his passion for his career and the determination he had to keep pushing after his accident. You enjoyed hearing him talk about it too. If you didn’t know any better you would say it was helping you relax.
“My story that boring?”
“Obviously.”
“Your sarcasm has no end.”
“Oh… goodness.. you thought that was sarcasm?”
Tom only laughed and shook his head the way he often did with you.
You may just have been his patient and he may have just been your nurse, but you both bonded. He kept you company and gave you comfort. In return, you kept him entertained during the quiet night shifts.
“I’m not going to sleep. I'm just resting my eyes. But still listening.” You told him as you nestled further into the hospital bed, trying to find a position that would make it comfortable.
“Okay, darling.” He grinned at you.
“Tell me more. What kind of-” You had to stop to yawn, “What kind of art stuff did you do?”
“Oh. Well, I was in a few musicals. I really enjoyed dancing. I did ballet ever since I was young and I love the control I have over my body. The tricks I can do with gymnastics or the turns and leaps. I mean I can’t do them to that level anymore, but I try to stay active.” He glanced up and noticed you hadn’t moved, “Are you still with me?”
“Mhm.” You barely respond.
“Okay. Well it was a performing arts school so we really were trained in many areas. We had classes in acting, singing, dancing, all of it. It was a lot of fun and I met my best friends there.”
Tom began telling stories about his time at school. Before he knew it, he lost himself and track of time. He looked back at you, quiet and still.
“Y/N?” You were finally asleep. “Goodnight, darling.” He whispered as he gently made his exit.
Because Tom worked the night shift, you never saw him when you woke in the morning. Instead, Tanya, a sweet nurse that felt like a big sister, or Linda, Nurse Ratched in the flesh, came in for morning vitals and meds.
You counted down the days until your release. Life in the hospital was pretty uneventful with the limit on visitors and limited activity. There’s only so many sitcoms one can take in a given timespan. The only thing that you really looked forward to each night was when Tom clocked in.
“Hi Y/N.”
“Hi Tom.” You would smile at each other.
“How are we feeling today?”
“Better. Ready to get out of here.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear you are feeling better and still ready to jailbreak.” He smiled while writing something down on your chart. “They should be bringing up your dinner tray soon and then I’ll bring by your evening meds after that.”
“Okay.”
“If you need me you know what to do.” He called to you before walking out the door.
You were disappointed when Shelley brought your evening meds by later. She was a nice enough nurse. She just wasn’t Tom.
You’d grown accustomed to mainly having him as your nurse during the evening shift. At first you weren’t sure if it was coincidence or on purpose, but after a few nights of staying up and talking, you grew closer to him. You saw less of the other nursing staff and more of Tom.
You tried not to build anything up in your head. You were sure everything he was doing was in his job description and a part of being a good nurse.
He would sneak you extra pudding cups from the cafeteria and bring you an extra heated blanket because you could never stay warm. If you needed a new IV, he held your hand to ease the anxiety. He kept you company and made you feel less alone in such a sterile and intimidating place. And when he noticed you had trouble sleeping he chose to sit with you to help you fall asleep. You couldn’t help the butterflies that built in your stomach.
It became a sort of routine. He checked on you during evening vitals, even if someone else was doing them, and you were always still awake. He would then come and sit with you and chat for a bit, telling you different stories until you eventually fell asleep.
Some nights when you were extra restless he would help you walk the halls.
“The doctors have to see you’re stable enough before you can be discharged. Plus, maybe it’ll tire you out.” He suggested.
He would help get your IV pole ready so you could walk with it. He helped you into your slippers and eased you out of bed after passing you your robe.
Walking the hall slowly, Tom knew he had to remain professional, yet he found a few excuses to graze his hand across your back to ‘steady you’ when you turned corners or he thought you were looking tired.
“It might take me a while to get back to my usual jogs in the park, huh?” You laughed in spite of yourself.
“You’ll get there. Baby steps.” He encouraged, as you turned around the Nurse’s Station. You missed the faces the other night shift nurses were giving you both, but Tom was sure to subtly flick them off. “So, do you like running?” He asked as you headed back towards your room.
Throughout your late nights together, he told you of his three younger brothers and his dog named Tessa. You spoke about what you would do when you were out of hospital. He talked about his friends and flatmates and the adventures they had. He told you many stories, but each morning when you woke up he was clocked out and the day shift nurses were there.
Tonight was your last night. You’re set to be discharged tomorrow and while you are ecstatic to go home, you’re going to miss one thing about this place.
“I bet you’re too excited to sleep tonight. I don’t know if my stories will even help.” Tom said as he sat down next to you.
You smiled up to him sweetly.
“What are you looking forward to the most once you get out of here?”
“Sleeping in my own bed.”
“Well that’s no surprise.” Tom laughed, a contagious sound making you giggle as well. “Isn’t there anything you’ll miss about this place?”
“Yeah.” He smiled “There’s one thing.”
“What’s that?” He asks.
“The pudding cups.”
“Ahh the pudding cups of course.” You giggled while fiddling with the IV line.
“They just don’t taste the same in the outside world.”
His smile grew wider as you giggled.
“No, but really. As much as I give this place grief and say I’m ready to get out of here - which I am,” You gave him a pointed look to which he held his hands up in mock surrender, fully believing you, “it hasn’t been too terribly awful I guess.”
“Oh, well, I’m glad we could make your stay not too terribly awful.. I guess.” He teased. “Do you have anything exciting to look forward to once you’re a free woman?”
“Nothing huge planned, really. The doctors did say to take it easy.”
“That’d be wise.”
“Yeah. I’ll just lay low for a while. My sister said she may try to come visit me though so that would be nice.”
“Oh that would be nice. She’s your older sister right?”
“Right. She moved away last year to be closer to her boyfriend.”
“Ah. Do you like him?”
“Sorry?”
“This boyfriend. Do you like him?”
“He’s alright, I suppose. He makes her happy.” Tom nodded along.
“And do you have a boyfriend that makes you happy?”
“N-No. No I don’t. Not at the moment.” You began fiddling with the IV cord again.
“No boyfriend or not a boyfriend that makes you happy?” He asked.
“Neither.”
“Well that’s a shame.” If the heart monitor was connected you would’ve been screwed. “I just mean someone needs to look after you once you get home. I hope this sister comes through for a visit. You’ve got to take it easy.”
“Oh I’ll be fine.”
“I’m sure you will be.” He smiled.
“How has your shift been tonight? Busy?” You asked, fighting back a yawn.
“A bit busier than usual. There was a slight emergency earlier which is why Shelley handed out meds tonight. Sorry I didn’t come around.”
“It’s alright. I know you have other patients.”
“Yeah, but none like you.” You were sure he said that to all of his patients. After all, you’ve heard similar lines ever since you went to the pediatrician as a child. But it still gave you butterflies.
“Are you getting sleepy?”
“A little. But it’s okay.” He gave you a pointed look but continued to talk anyway. “It’s the last night. One final request for storytime. Make it a good one.”
You thought for a moment before asking your question.
“Do you ever wish that life turned out differently? That you never had your accident and you could’ve followed your dreams to be a dancer?” You asked while turning on your side and getting more comfortable.
“Sometimes. At least, I used to. But I think I’ve accepted it now. And I really can’t see myself doing anything but this.” You nodded taking in his answer “I look at it this way. If it wasn’t for my injury then I never would’ve changed my career path and found my love for medicine. I never would have made so many of the friends I’ve made or the memories I’ve made. I never would have met you.” He finishes with a sweet smile.
“That’s a very positive way of looking at it.” You told him. “Be honest, are you a therapist during the day?” He laughed out loud.
“No. I’m not. I guess I’m a big believer in ‘everything happens for a reason’.” You nodded while covering a yawn.
“So I’ve been curious to ask you,” He began, “Do you usually have this much trouble sleeping? Because you can get help for that you know?” You smiled at him.
“What? I thought a night nurse talking to you was the cure?” Tom smirked and shook his head. “I’m kidding. No, I normally don’t. It’s just the stiff sheets and hospital sounds I think.”
“Darn hospital.” He rolled his eyes and joked. “So this time tomorrow you’ll be sound asleep in your own bed then?”
You knew it was meant to be a happy statement, but you were a little sad at the thought of not having any more late night chats with Tom.
“Yes. Thank God.” You forced a smile.
You felt another yawn coming and tried to hold it back. It was already past the usual time that you fell asleep.
Tom could tell you were exhausted so he launched into a story from nursing school, hoping to lull you to sleep.
You yawned your way through listening, trying to soak up every last moment with Tom. In the morning he wouldn’t be here. You’d leave and likely never see him again.
When he finished, your eyes were half open and he wondered how you were still awake. Or maybe why.
“Why are you fighting it? The point is to sleep. Give in.” He told you gently after another yawn.
You looked up at him, half asleep and rubbing your eyes, not finding the confidence to tell him the true reason you were trying to stay awake.
“I’m happy right now.”
He smiled down at you.
“I am too. But you need your sleep, darling.” You weren’t sure what to say and you didn’t have much energy left in you anyway. “How about this. I’ve probably been in here too long as it is. Let me go check in at the Nurse’s Station and then I’ll come back and check on you soon and see if you’re still awake okay?”
The thought that he was leaving gave you a sad feeling in your stomach. You tried to remind yourself that he was just your nurse. Nothing more.
“Okay.” You smiled at him, sleepily, while settling further into the bed.
He stood up and instead of walking towards the door he walked closer to you. He grabbed the thin, white hospital blanket and pulled it closer around your shoulders.
“Goodnight, Y/N.” He whispered before he walked to the door.
“Tom?” You called out just before he opened it. He turned around with an expectant look, “Thanks for everything.”
Even though the room was dim you could see his smile.
“You’re welcome, Y/N. Get some sleep.”
You don’t remember much after that. You don’t know if Tom came back to check on you. You just remember falling asleep with a smile on your face.
When you woke up the following morning it felt like any other morning in the hospital.
The hallways were much louder. Beeps, chatter, and phones were constant. The lights were brighter.
But you were quickly reminded that it wasn’t any other morning. You were going home today.
The door creaked open and Tanya, one of your regular daytime nurses, poked her head in.
“Oh good you’re up.” She made her way inside and over to the gloves. “How’d you sleep?”
“Pretty good. Thanks.” She gave you a smile, something hidden behind it.
“I’m sure.” She said quietly to herself. You gave her a questioning look. “Oh I just mean I’m sure you’re excited to get out of here.”
You nodded as she took your vitals one last time.
“Everything looks good. What do you say about getting this IV out?”
“I say that sounds amazing.”
She took it out and bandaged up your arm while informing you of how the morning would go.
“Dr. McCoy is making rounds now then he’ll be by soon to go over your discharge. You can get dressed whenever you’re ready. If you need help, buzz me. You’ll still have a breakfast tray come, but you don’t have to eat it.” She gave you a wink while taking off her gloves.
“Thanks Tanya.”
“Of course, sweetie. And in case I don’t see you before you go, you’ve been a wonderful patient. Take care of yourself.” You smiled at her as she left you to change into some leggings and a sweatshirt.
You were packing your remaining things into your bag when your doctor walked in.
“Y/N! How are we doing today?”
“We’re doing great because we’re going home.” You smiled while taking a seat to rest for a few minutes.
“I know you’re excited.” He laughed before explaining the conditions of your discharge. You had medicines to take, a follow up appointment, and strict instructions to rest for the next few weeks. After signing some forms he left you with a stack of papers. “Is someone coming to pick you up?”
“Yeah my neighbor should be here within an hour.”
“Sounds good. Don’t hesitate to call us or come back in if you have any trouble or questions.”
“Will do. Thanks.”
A few minutes after he left a nurse brought in your breakfast tray. There wasn’t much of a point for it but since your discharge wasn’t technically until 10:30 am you were still a patient during breakfast.
You took the pudding cup that you requested with every meal off the tray before sliding it away. Smiling to yourself, you tucked it away in your bag. All you had left to do was wait for 10:30.
Tanya came in to check on you again and told you to buzz the Nurse’s Station when you knew your ride was here. At 10:27 you had a text from your neighbor that they were out front in the pickup zone. So you hit the call button.
“Yes?” Linda, the scariest dayshift nurse, answered.
“Um hi. Tanya told me to buzz in when my ride was here so I could go down.”
“Okay we’ll be right in.”
Not even a minute later you heard your door open. Expecting to see Tanya or maybe even Linda you looked up.
An audible gasp left your lips when Tom stood in your doorway with a wheelchair.
“I hear someone needs a ride?” He smiled as he made his way closer to the bed.
“Tom. What are you still doing here?”
“I pulled a double.” You wanted to ask why, but decided against it. You were still in a little bit of shock from seeing him again. “If you’d rather I can go get Linda to walk you down?” He pointed back towards your door.
“No! No.. I’m just surprised s’all.”
“Well come on. I thought you’d be running out of this place once the clock hit 10:30.” Glancing up you saw it was now 10:34. Your neighbor is probably tired of waiting already.
You grabbed your discharge papers and reached for your bag when you heard, “I got it.” Smiling at him, you sat down in the wheelchair. Tom placed the bag around his shoulder and kicked the brakes off the chair. “Ready?” You nodded up at him.
He rolled you out of the room that felt so small for a final time. You passed the Nurse’s Station and waved bye to the staff. He turned by the elevators and when you looked up at him in question, he read your mind. Looked down at you he said, “We’re taking the staff elevators.”
When you made it there he hit the button, turning you around and backing you in once the doors opened. He hit the button for the Lobby and leaned up against the wall of the elevator, briefly glancing at you, as you rode down together.
“Well you made it. You’re a free woman.” He smiled shyly.
“Yippee.” He met your eyes for a moment before looking back to the floor. The dynamics felt different. It wasn’t like your late night talks together.
“Listen, Y/N.” Tom began as he stood up from the wall and faced you. He was about to continue when the elevator ding cut him off, signaling you had reached your destination.
Maybe that was what was different. You had reached your destination.
You had a fun time talking with Tom and entertaining each other when you were both up late at night. He was fun to get to know and you enjoyed having someone care for you. He was easy to banter with and certainly easy on the eyes. But your time at the hospital was up. You knew it would be eventually. You wanted it to be.
Tom was a nurse. He was just doing his job. He was helping take care of you. He was being nice. He was trying to make your stay more comfortable. There was nothing to read into.
Your time being his patient was up and your time with him was up.
You tried to remain realistic, but the sadness still crept up as he rolled you closer to the door.
Once outside, you saw your neighbor exit the car and wave you over. Tom steered in the direction and slowed before rolling to a stop and hitting the brake locks on the wheels.
“Hi, I’m Taylor.”
“Tom.” They shook hands as Tom passed off your bag for Taylor to put in the backseat.
“I’m sorry for the circumstances, but it really has been a pleasure having you as a patient and getting to know you, Y/N.” Tom admitted as he walked around to face you. He grabbed the papers from your lap. “Take care of yourself, okay?” You had shared many smiles with Tom, but this one felt sadder.
“I will. Thank you for everything, Tom. I mean it.” You reached up and squeezed his hand. He gave you a light squeeze back while smiling down at you. Taylor returned from the backseat of the car and Tom turned to them.
“These are her important papers about follow up appointments, medications, what to do at home, all of that so please make sure she doesn’t lose any of them.” He emphasized the point.
“Got it. Thanks.” Taylor held onto the stack while Tom turned back to you.
“If I can’t handle a few papers on my own, then maybe I shouldn’t be going home yet, Tom.” You laughed.
“I know, I just wanted to make sure they made it home with you.” He walked closer. “You ready to get in?”
“Yeah.” You nodded. He helped you up, supporting you just as a precaution. Once seated, you took a moment to catch your breath as you pulled the seatbelt down. He met your hand, taking it from you to buckle you in.
“You good?”
You nodded with a smile, “Just a little tired. No biggie.”
He looked you over before returning your smile, though his didn’t quite reach his eyes, “If you need us, call us. Otherwise go home and rest.”
This was it. This was goodbye.
“Thanks, Tom.”
“Goodbye, Y/N.”
He shut the door. He walked back to the wheelchair, released the brake locks and headed inside. He looked back only when your car was driving away.
“Here’s those papers that are so important.” Taylor handed you the stack after they got in.
“Thanks.”
“So how are you feeling?”
“Better. Thanks.” You felt them looking at you as they joined traffic.
“You sure? You sound like you feel awful.”
You try to remind yourself to forget the sweet and attractive nurse and start moving forward.
“Yeah. Yeah I’m okay.” You decide to distract yourself by reading through your discharge paperwork, when something caught your eye. On top was a sticky note with the hospital’s letterhead. You were sure it wasn’t there before. Looking closer it read,
Y/N,
In case you need someone to talk to when you can’t sleep.
555-5555
P. S. I have a connection to some pretty good pudding cups too.
Tom
The smile that grew on your face was undeniable. All the feelings you suppressed came flooding in. He wasn’t just being nice. He actually liked you.
One thing you knew for sure was that even though you would be in your own bed tonight, you still would be up, talking to a very special nurse.
Lmk if you want to be on my tag list
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withcolebrock · 4 years ago
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Close Your Eyes
Corpse Husband x Fem!Reader
Summary: Corpse needed help applying his eyeliner
Warnings: swearing, brief description of touching the eye(I know people hate it lol)
Word Count: 1,110
Author’s Note: this was meant to be like five hundred words max but I got carried away. Anywayyyy in light of recent news of Corpse Baby wearing eyeliner I thought of this cute little fluffy piece. I don’t normally post this late but I have another thing planned to post tomorrow soooo. I hope you guys enjoy this writing I did in like thirty minutes lol
~~~
Corpse was standing leaning his body against the bathroom counter, trying to inch himself closer to the mirror. He held the cheap dollar store eyeliner close to his eye. He shut his left eye only half way as he tried to apply it. His hands started to shake, he huffed as he leaned his hands away. He looked back towards the pen and his shaking hands and let out a long dramatic breath.
He slowly brought his hands back towards his eye, wanting to apply it again. He clenched his jaw as his hand wouldn’t stop shaking. “Fuck,” he groaned as he shut the eyeliner tube closed. He looked back into his reflection sighing dramatically. He kept seeing pictures of guys wearing smokey eyeliner looks. For a while he was really scared to try it, because of the whole stereotypes that surrounded it.
He remembered that no one would see him with it anyway, except his girlfriend. He knew she wouldn’t care, she even dropped hints at it a few times throughout their relationship. He leaned his body towards the mirror again, trying to concentrate. His hands were already shaking when he pulled the cap off the eyeliner.
He didn’t give up though, he wanted to see how he looked with it. He wanted to see if it would give him a boost of confidence. He leaned towards the mirror again when he heard the apartment door open and shut. His eyes widened as he gasped in excitement. He walked out of the bathroom, holding the eyeliner secretly in his hands.
“Hey Baby,” he said, drawing out the words. She placed her purse down and the few items she bought from Target on the counter as she looked towards him suspiciously. He had a wide toothy grin to his face, with his hands held behind his back.
“What did you do?” she asked cautiously. She shoved her phone into her hoodie pocket while walking towards him. He shook his head, squinting slightly.
“I was actually wondering if you could do me a favor,” he kept her gaze as she walked towards him. She raised her eyebrows as she pursed her lips forward. He smiled cheekily as he held out the eyeliner. She shifted her gaze to it, and her mouth fell open in disgust. His face immediately fell as his heart began to beat faster. “What? You don’t-” he whispered.
“Please tell me you weren’t planning on putting this on?” she asked, taking it from him, examining the brand. Noticing that it was a brand she never heard of before. “Baby, this shit would’ve burned your eyes so bad,” she looked back up to him, noticing the small pout on his lips. She took in a small intake of breath as she pocketed the eyeliner. She walked closer to him, resting her hand onto his chest, “Come on, let’s use my good stuff.”
She patted his chest a few times before she started heading to their bedroom. His eyes lit up as he gracefully followed her to the room. “Why didn’t you think to use my stuff, you know I wouldn’t have cared,” she smiled as she walked up to her vanity.
“I know but you spend a lot of money on this stuff I ju-” he explained, she turned around looking up towards him. Once he saw her smile he stopped talking. His lips started to curl upward slightly as he met her eye.
“Sit,” she demanded, pointing to their bed. He listened quickly walking towards the bed. He sat down leaning back slightly on his hands. She walked towards him, opening her liquid eyeliner. She put the cap into her hoodie pocket, as she looked over his features. She rested her hand onto his cheek, her cold hands felt nice on his flushed cheeks. Her eyes flickered down towards his lips briefly before she looked back up into his eyes. “Close your eyes,” she whispered.
She slowly began to apply a line of eyeliner to his top lids. She didn’t know how much he wanted to go, she started off small. She lowered her gaze briefly down towards his lips, she saw the soft smile on his lips. “What?” she asked, a small breathy laugh leaving her lips. His smile widens as he slowly opens his eyes.
“You’re just-” he trails off shaking his head slowly, “You’re amazing,” he whispered. She rested her hand onto his cheek again as she slowly leaned down and pressed her lips against his. His body straightened as he kissed her back. She slowly stood up and began walking towards her vanity. “Hey,” he whispered, upset that she was suddenly away from him.
“You’re eyes aren’t done,” she muttered, she walked back towards him quickly. She leaned down, “Look up,” she instructed. His eyebrows knitted together as he pulled his head back.
“What? Why?” he asked nervously.
“Just trust me, will you?” she giggled as she watched him look up, “This might hurt.” He pulled his head back again as he shook his head dramatically.
“What do you mean?”
“It may not even hurt, just don’t flinch,” she laughed reaching for his head again. He stared towards her with his lips pursed forward. He sighed as he allowed her to hold his head in place for a moment. He began to look up as she delicately pulled the skin under his eye down. She began to apply the eyeliner to his waterline, she also added a little bit under his eyes. He held his breath in the process, Y/N tried not to laugh as he did so.
“Okay,” she let out, walking towards the vanity. “Final touches,” she muttered, walking back towards him with her smudge brush. “Look up,” she whispered again. She began to smudge out the small bit of eyeliner she added to under his eyes.
Once she was finished she pulled away from him, looking at him from a distance, “Well?” he asked while, blinking rapidly. He wasn’t used to the feeling, even though there wasn’t much to feel. She loved it, it fit his aesthetic perfectly.
“Baby, it looks amazing,” she was honestly shocked. She reached for his hand to guide him towards the mirror. His jaw dropped as he admired his own features.
“I actually like it, Babe,” he turned to look at Y/N, before glancing back towards the mirror. He didn’t think he was going to like it as much as he did. “Thank you Love,” he whispered, pulling her into a hug. He picked her up slightly as he hugged her. “Now you have to do this for me every day,” he said teasingly.
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bibbidibobbidibucky · 4 years ago
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in his arms | b.b.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Summary: Bucky's been gone for weeks on a mission and it starts to take its toll on Y/N.
Word Count: 1785
Warnings: 18+ ONLY!!! Smut, angst, language, hair pulling kink, very brief mention of death, and talk of cuts and bruises. Flashbacks are in italics!
A/N: My depression has been getting to me lately and I'm trying to see if this is a coping mechanism. Reading comfort stories usually helps me so I figured I'd try writing one. Feedback is always welcome and I hope you guys enjoy! 💕 Editing? Who's she??
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24 days.
That’s how long it’s been since Bucky and half the team left out to go on a mission.  When it came to Bucky leaving it was usually just for a week or two and you could hear from him every now and again, but not this time.  To say that you hated it would be an understatement and you hoped he would home any day now.
You walked around your apartment that you shared with Bucky and nursed a glass of wine.  Technically it was your third glass and if you were honest with yourself you were just trying to nurse the pain.  The past 24 days had been your own personal hell since you weren’t able to be in contact with Bucky.  Not knowing how things were going or if he was even alive.  You pushed that last thought from your mind.  That was the last thing you needed to think about right now.
Alpine meowed as you walked over to the window where she was sitting on her favorite chair.  The chair that she usually sat in while being curled up on Bucky’s lap.  You scratched her head and she meowed again.
“Yeah, I know Al.  I miss him too.”
You smiled sadly and took another sip of wine as you looked out the window over Brooklyn.  The view before you was one of the big reasons that you and Bucky ended up getting this apartment in the first place.  It was too beautiful to pass up according to him and with that thought a small smile appeared on your face as you thought back to the day you two moved in.
“Okay.  I think that’s the last of it babe,”  Bucky smiled as he kicked the door shut behind him
“Thank god. I’m so tired and never wanna see another box again,” you laughed as you fell face down onto the couch for a much needed break.  The two of you were officially moved into your new place.  A place to call home.
Bucky smiled down at you and lifted you feet as he sat down on the couch, placing your feet on his lap.  He rubbed your calves and looked out at the window as the sun started to set.  He was happy.  Truly happy and he thanked his lucky stars that he was able to feel this happiness because of you.  Falling in love with you was something he didn’t take for granted and he just knew that he was gonna spend the rest of his life with you.
His thoughts were interrupted though when a soft snore came from you.  Not even five minutes on the couch and you were already fast asleep.  He chuckled and gently moved from the couch so he didn’t wake you.  He would let you sleep for now.  He kissed your forehead tenderly before looking over at Alpine.
“Let’s get some of this stuff out of the way and then order take out.  Whatcha think? Pizza? Chinese? ”
She purred as she rubbed against his leg and Bucky picked her up in one swift motion.  She meowed and Bucky smiled.
“Pizza it is.”
It was hard to believe that was just two months ago.  You had been in this apartment longer than he had and you missed him more than anything.  You just wanted to be in his arms and to have him home.  You teared up a little and downed the rest of the glass before reaching for your phone.  You pressed Bucky’s number and of course it went straight to voicemail like it had done for the last few weeks.  You knew you wouldn’t get an answer.  You just wanted to hear the sound of his voice.
“You’ve reached Bucky.  Leave me a message and I’ll get back to you.”
The tone beeped and you took a few seconds before deciding to leave him a message.
You bite your lip before speaking, “Hi baby, it’s me.  Look I know you can’t talk right now. I-I I just wanted to let you know that I miss you, Buck.  I miss you so much baby and I hope you and the rest of the team are okay.”
You had to stop for a moment as a tear spilled over your cheek.  The last thing Bucky needed to hear was you crying on his voicemail.
“There’s more I wanna say but I’ll wait till you come back home which I really hope is soon.  Almost a month without you has been awful and I miss cuddly up to you at night.  I miss a lot of things.”  You paused again, “I love you, Bucky.  I can’t wait to see you. Bye sweetheart.”
You ended the call and brushed the tears away that were now streaming down your cheeks.  You decided a hot shower before bed was what you needed right now to calm down.  That and maybe some melatonin later.
About ten minutes later as you were standing under the hot water you heard a noise that sounded like something being knocked over.  You brushed it off and just assumed Alpine was playing around and something fell.  You’d deal with it in a few minutes.
“Y/N?
You froze at the sound of your name and you thought you were hearing things.  You had to be right?  You slowly turned and saw the shape of Bucky through the fogged glass of the shower.  A small gasps left your lips and you smiled as he opened the door to the shower.
“I got your voicemail sweetheart,”  he smiled softly as he stepped closer to you.
You didn’t even give him time to say another word before you were pressing your lips to his in an endearing kiss.  The two of you stumbled back into the shower, not caring at all that Bucky was fully clothed.  The kiss consumed the both of you.  After being apart from weeks on end this was all you could do right now.  Words didn’t need to be spoken because everything that needed to be said was said in that kiss.
Small moans escaped your lips as Bucky picked you up and pressed you against the shower wall.  You couldn’t believe he was here.  He was finally home and you were finally in his arms once more.  You felt like your heart was gonna explode from how happy you were.
The kiss was broken as Bucky leaned back enough for you to help him discard his wet shirt and then his lips were back on yours.  You tugged on his hair as you held him close and a moan escaped his lips.  That sent a shiver all the way down to your core, causing you to grind against him.  The rest of his clothes were soon discarded and he was rubbing the tip of his cock through your folds.  Moans filled the area as the two of you basked in the pure pleasure of just being connected again.  Of being just able to hold on another.
“Oh fuck. James.”
You moaned out his name blissfully as he pushed into you and you already felt like you were on cloud nine.  He squeezed your ass as your hips started to rock into each other and moaned deeply.  He was pounding into you with long deep strides that had you tugging at his hair over and over again.
“Fuck, I missed you so much Y/N.  Missed you every single second sweetheart.”
You moaned in response and pressed your lips back to his.  The kiss was needy, sloppy, and full of emotions.  The two of you were desperate to have the other as close as possible and you had a feeling this is what it was gonna be like for the next fews days.  You would welcome it gladly.
“You feel so good baby. Missed having you inside me,” you mumbled against his lips and it caused him to smirk.  He loved knowing the effect he could have on you.
“Missed this tight little pussy baby.  The way your body reacts to me when I fuck you like this.  Fu-fuck Y/N,” he moaned out.
He buries his face in your neck and as he feels himself getting closer to cumming, “Missed everything about you sweetheart.”
You whimpered as he spoke and could tell it wouldn’t be long before you came as well.  His hips were getting sloppy with each thrust and he moved his hand between you to rub your clit.  You moaned wantonly and your toes curled.
A few more deep thrusts from Bucky was all it took to send you over the edge.  Your walls fluttered around him as you moaned his name over and over.  The feeling of you squeezing his cock like a vice edged him on.  You felt his release inside of you and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to keep him close while you rode out your releases.  Soft kisses were placed along your neck, up your jaw, along your cheek, until he finally met your lips.
You hummed in satisfaction as you kissed him and couldn’t help the smile that formed before pulling, ghosting your lips over, “Welcome home, Bucky.”
You pulled back more to have a good look at his face.  You lifted your hand to gently caress his cheek and your heart melted when he leaned into your touch.  There was a cut above his eyebrow and what looked like a healing bruise on his cheek.  You knew missions were never easy for him and that they took a certain toll, but you’d be right there with him to help in any way he needed.
He placed a gentle kiss to your palm and smiled, “Think we can dry off and go get into bed.  I’m exhausted.”
You nodded and placed a kiss to his nose, “Of course baby.”
As the two of you got ready for bed you noticed more bruises and cuts along his skin but decided not to say anything, they would be gone in a day or two anyways.  You slipped on one of Bucky's old shirts and pulled back the covers of the bed.
“Come here,” you smiled and patted his side of the bed.
He smiled and flipped off the light before crawling up next to you, laying his head against your chest.  You wrapped your arms around him and ran your fingers along his back soothingly.  This was always one of his favorite things to do after getting home from missions.  Just being in your arms and listening to your heartbeat.
You smiled as the two of you laid there.  He was home.  He was in your arms and you were in his.
fin.
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biletdoux · 4 years ago
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stages of love | j.jh
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Pairing | jung jaehyun (nct) + female!reader Rating | M Genre + Tropes | college!au, romance (angst, fluff, smut) Warnings | explicit language, alcohol consumption, instant love?, sexual content (drunk sex, receiving and giving oral, penetration, cow girl position, nipple play), greyzone fidelity Length | 15k+
Summary | A playlist for the trials and tribulations of a beating heart
(Or; your relationship with Jung Jaehyun in ten songs.)
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Note: ahhhhhhh!!!! we finally did it boisssss. this fic has been a long time coming and honestly im sick and tired of jaehyun. i’ve spent too long thinking about him for this fic smh. this is also my first time writing smut so we’ll see how that goes lmao. anyway this was a long labor of love so please let me know what you thought of it !!! <333
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1. Peach by IU
smitten at first sight.
“How can I explain this feeling?”
“Alright, I think that sums up about everything we need to cover for today’s lecture. Remember, most of this will be on your final exam. Any questions before you’re all dismissed?” 
Your professor looks up from the board, scans the room and all he sees are most of the students waiting with bated breath, itching to leave the class, and half of those students having already packed their belongings in anticipation. He held them back an extra twenty five minutes today, which is notably longer than previous lectures in which he delayed dismissal.
“Okay, you’re free to go. Chapters nineteen and twenty are due the next time we meet.”
You breathe out a sigh of relief, ready to head out with the rest of the class. You like Professor Jang and find that he makes history somewhat digestible, but he has a tendency to lose track of time, which is inconvenient, but more so today since you have agreed to meet up with Yeri. You glance at your phone to see text notifications and curse to yourself. You’re already ten minutes late and Yeri is many things and impatient is one of them. 
You’re one of the first out of the small lecture hall and you shoot her a quick reply before making your way to the oncampus cafe. Through quickened strides and shortcuts engrained from cross-campus treks from class to class, you arrive in record time. You’re slightly out of breath and impressed by your speed, but you stop, frozen in your tracks when you see Yeri’s displeased face. You find her situated in a small, but cozy corner next to the windows, already unpacked with notebooks and papers strewn on the desk ready to review for exams. It's one of the best study spots in the cafe and you immediately know your best friend had to come extra early to nab such a sought after table. 
“About time,” she scowls, “what took you so long?”
You shoot her an apologetic look, “aww, Yeri,” you pout your lips a little too dramatically, “I’m sorry. I just came from history and you know how Professor Jang is.” 
Yeri looks at your jutted lips in disgust, but then her face softens in consideration. “Hm, I do know Jang.” She scrunches up her nose remembering her time in his class last semester. “That old man can talk for days on end and he never lets anyone leave class early. I guess I’ll let you go this time.” 
You beam at her knowing she’s no longer angry for your tardiness. “Great, drinks are on me today. It’s the least I can do for being late.” Yeri forgives as easily and as quickly as she loses her temper. You learned this after a few weeks of being her roommate. 
Yeri says nothing in silent agreement and you place your stuff down across the table next to the chair she reserves for you. You pull out your wallet and weave through the packed cafe to head to the order counter. The line is long and you patiently review the menu. Your roommate has consistent tastes and always orders a vanilla frappuccino regardless of which cafe she goes to, but you base your decision on your mood. You mull over your choices and by the time you reach the barista taking your order, you decide you’re in an ‘iced Americano’ kind of mood today. You have exams on top of exams you need to review for and a stronger caffeine kick is much needed.
After paying, you head back to the table with two drinks in tow. Yeri takes her drink and after you both take a few sips and catch up for the day, you dive straight to work. The two of you decide to review for statistics. 
Between re-summarizing chapters and answering review questions, you muse to yourself about how your college experience thus far hasn't been that much different from your high school life. You didn’t necessarily hate high school, per say, but it was safe to say you didn’t enjoy it. Your heart was in the arts, specifically music, and you had found studying the core subjects to be boring and tedious. You remember being ecstatic to have been accepted and enrolled in a performing arts college, foolishly thinking your days of solving differential equations and memorizing chemical formulas were over. You specifically remember daydreaming of your hours being filled with keyboard practice and composition notes and only such things. Somehow the reality of mandatory general education courses slipped your mind when you constructed such fantasies.
Despite frivolous and preconceived notions of college, you have already survived a semester and you are nearly through your second. 
“Hey, do you remember when this stats assignment is due?” Yeri’s inquiring voice snaps you out of your brief reverie and you search your cluttered brain for a date.
“Uh, I think it’s due, like, a few days before the final, but I’d have to double check.” 
Yeri nods. “Alright, well let’s take a small break. We have some time till then, we don’t have to finish all of it today.” 
You happily agree and set down your pen. Yeri takes a sip of her frappuccino and you lean over the table to get closer to her. “Anyway, did you hear about what happened with Jiwon and Youngjae from the entertainment management department?”
Her eyes glisten with wicked interest. “No. Do tell.”
Break time is always synonymous with gossip hour between you and Yeri. 
You spend the next fifteen minutes dishing what you know and Yeri offers her own input whenever she feels fit. 
“And they think they’re being discreet, but the whole dorm knows they’ve been sneaking around, but guess wha─” Before you can finish your sentence, you are cut off by a loud and energetic voice calling out Yeri’s name.
The two of you look up to see a slim and boyish brunet waving to Yeri and excitedly making his way to your table. He looks vaguely familiar, but you can’t quite place your finger on it, so you let it go.
He smiles happily at Yeri and greets her. “Hey Yeri, how’s it going?” He notices you there and gives you a polite wave, which you return in the same manner.
Yeri replies back breezily, but with her full attention. “Good. Did you need anything, Mark?” 
He flushes just the slightest bit, but it doesn’t escape your eyes. “Erm, nothing I just wanted to remind you that we’re meeting for the music theory project tomorrow at four. I would’ve texted, but I forgot to get your number in class, and I saw you here and thought it was a good opportunity to tell you.” 
Yeri’s eyes widen, “ah right! I completely forgot about it. It’s a good thing you found me here today, huh? Here, I’ll give you my number.”
She reaches her hand out her hand expectantly, and Mark is confused before scrambling to pull out his phone. You can tell Mark looks flustered while Yeri is calmly putting in her contact information. After finishing, she hands his phone back, “okay, all set. Just shoot me a text so I have your number as well. Thanks for reminding me today or I probably would’ve forgotten and not have shown up or something.” 
Mark smiles again, this time a little more sure than before. “All good. I’ll see you tomorrow, Yeri.” 
They wave goodbye and you watch Mark scamper from the cafe. Your eyes follow him, but Yeri is already focused on you again, paying Mark’s retreating form no mind. 
“So…” you start.
“So?” She returns.
“He’s cute.”
“Yeah, maybe,” she shrugged. “I barely know him though. We have music theory together, but this is the first time we’ve talked all semester and we’re only talking because we got paired up for a project.”
Yeri seems apathetic and you study her closely. You notice she’s acting a little too stiffly carefree to be truly indifferent to the situation. You can’t help, but to tease her a bit. “Well, make the most out of this project then.”
Yeri gives you a hard look and you decide to let it go despite finding your best friend’s situation to be amusing. 
“Anyway, keep telling me about Jiwon and Youngjae. You never finished.” Yeri changes the topic, knowing that you might decide to pester her again if she doesn’t.
“As I was saying,” you started up again. A figure outside catches your attention and you peer outside through the window past Yeri’s shoulders. You realize it’s Mark and you watch with interest as he gestures excitedly, pointing to something in his hand, you assume his phone, to some of his friends. From there your eyes wander absentmindedly from one person to the next, and it’s when you see him. 
The reaction is almost instantaneous. 
“Like you were saying?” Yeri urges, but her words fall on deaf ears, for all your attention is captured by the boy next to Mark with heart-shaped lips.
When you see said boy laugh, you notice he has moon for eyes and you unconsciously suck in a sharp breath. You must have been staring too intently without noticing because he turns his head in your direction and you two hold direct eye contact. Like a deer caught in headlights, you freeze and lose all rational thought. Your head is completely blank. You have never seen someone so beautiful and your mind does not know how to process any sensory information at the moment.
Someone calls the boy away and the entire group of friends leave. It’s only then do you find yourself releasing a breath you didn’t know you had been holding onto so tightly. Your heart is pounding and you feel as though blood is rushing through your ears. 
“Hello?” Yeri sounds annoyed, but you struggle to find the words to answer her. 
You feel a sudden heat rush to color your cheeks a vibrant red and a feeling surges through you that leaves you out of breath and weak at the knees. A steady warmth washes over you quietly and you feel it deep within yourself and you can’t help but let out a small laugh.
How silly, you muse. Not to be dramatic, but you think you’re in love.
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2. Shadow by f(x)
adoration from afar. 
“I’m really really into you.”
The next few weeks are packed to the brim with assignments and papers, but despite this, you still find time for your personal research into the boy who was with Mark that day. 
Being the obvious first and easiest option, you beg Yeri to ask Mark directly about his friend, but she immediately shoots you down. 
“No. Absolutely not. At least not anytime soon anyway,” she huffs. “I’ve barely held two full conversations with him, like hell the next is gonna be about his friend just cause my best friend started thirsting over him after one glance. I mean come on, girl.” She shakes her head at you. 
Yeri’s right and you apologize to her for being thoughtless of her situation. She doesn’t say it, but she seems really hopeful about the music theory project and what might bloom from it. You would not want to impede on such possibilities of happiness for your friend, so you let that option go, but Yeri promises to help in other ways and she does. 
Somehow between caffeine fueled cram sessions and sleep deprivation, you, with Yeri’s help manage to find out more about the boy. You casually ask around in your contemporary writing and production department and she offers help by searching her vocal performance department. 
You find out his name is Jung Jaehyun and he’s a third year in the musical theatre department and that he’s a member of the local chapter of the performing arts fraternity on campus. You also discover his Instagram handle and you find yourself skimming through his page throughout the day more often  than you’re willing to admit to any living soul. 
You occasionally see him around campus since you first saw him at the cafe and each time, you can feel your heart hammer in your chest and you become so flustered to the point of your sympathetic nervous system activating. Unfortunately for you, your body unconsciously chooses flight each and every time at the sight of Jaehyun because you can always feel your knees go weak and your body lurch away to escape in any direction that isn’t Jaehyun’s. You kind of hate yourself each time you do, but you can’t help it. He’s just so pretty that it’s intimidating!
You try to think positive after the bouts of shame you experience after each escapade. 
Well there’s no way to embarrass yourself in front of him if you run away before having the chance to, right?
Even thinking about it now in the comfort of your bed, you can’t shake your self-consciousness and bury your face in a large pillow resting on your knees. Your cheeks are burning and you don’t know what to do. 
“Hey, why don’t you just talk to him, instead of moping all day and stalking his profile like a creep.” Yeri’s crisp words cut through your musings and you glance up to see her entering your shared room in the dorms.
“Shut up. It’s not like I have a benevolent match-making professor who happens to pair me up with my crush for an end-of-semester project.” You retort back before sighing dramatically, “I literally have no excuse to talk to him. We’re not in the same year or major. We don’t even have mutual friends. Unless, y’know, you and Mark hit it off, who knows.” 
Yeri sits down next to you on your small twin bed, resting her head on your shoulder while letting out an equally dramatic sigh, “yeah, well, Mark’s so dense, all the divine intervention in the world isn’t going to help me.” 
You let out snort, “what’s up with you two anyway?”
“Y’know, I could’ve sworn he was into me and I had a chance with him, but every time we meet up we literally only work on the project and nothing else. Every time I sort of tried to do something I get shot down. Like I told him I was kind of chilly today in the library, and he looks all thoughtful for a moment but all he ends up saying is ‘yeah, all the buildings on campus are always cold, huh? Good thing I always bring a jacket with me. You should bring one too next time, I don’t want you getting cold.’ And then he just turns back to the project like nothing. Can you believe him?” Yeri complains and you swear her annoyance is palpable. “And every time I text him to hangout, he thinks it’s to work on the project. I honestly can’t tell if he’s really that stupid or if he’s just not into me.” 
You laugh at her unfortunate, but undeniable state of love affairs. 
“Really? That bad? I remember him being all blushy when he asked for your number,” you recall. “And you should’ve seen how he looked when he showed off he got your number. Well that’s what it looked like anyway, I could be wrong.”
“Well, at least I’ll get a good grade though. Mark is nothing if not diligent and hard-working, with him being a double major and all.” Yeri sounds resigned however, she sighs again, this time more frustrated and you hear the determination in her voice. “Alright, after finals, for sure we’re gonna hit the clubs. We need to let loose, have some fun.”
You agree with her to appease her short temper, but deep down you feel disappointed. You feel sorry for your friend, having genuinely wanted Mark and her to work out, but a small and selfish part of you felt sorry for having no bridge to Jaehyun at all if it didn’t work out between Yeri and Mark. Looks like you were stranded now and you’d have to find a way to Jaehyun one way or another, but your line of help ends here.
Shaking away such negative thoughts, you think to yourself how soju bombs and dance floors don’t so bad after such an intense exam period after all. It will definitely take your mind off of things for sure.
And even though you say this to yourself, you know your mind will still be plagued with Jung Jaehyun no matter how much you try.
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3. What Is Love by EXO-K
careful contemplation. 
“I can’t explain what I feel.”
“Mark, tell me you did not.” The disbelief in Johnny’s voice made the situation all the more hilarious and even Jaehyun, who’s the calmer of the two, couldn’t suppress the guffaw from escaping his lips. 
The tips of Mark’s ears flush a light pink and he tries to deliver a convincing argument, but all that comes out is a meek stammer, further driving Johnny up the wall.
When Mark came up to his and Johnny’s room asking for advice, Jaehyun had an idea of where it was going to lead, considering Mark’s clueless disposition and inexperienced track record, but Jaehyun had no idea it was going to be this bad. 
Mark, having developed a crush on a fellow vocal performance major in his music theory class, came to Johnny, his frat big, to spill his guts and ask for advice constantly. Being Johnny’s roommate, meant Jaehyun was also privy to all the details of Mark’s love life and he had no problem giving advice to the amusing first year student, which Mark appreciated because going to Johnny meant a clowning session before he could get any useful nuggets of information. 
When Mark’s music theory professor randomly assigned the two for the end of semester project, Mark was one part excited and two parts nervous, resulting in a frazzled mess. He has been going up to the second room on the right of the second floor of the frat house almost every other day to ask for advice since then. 
Johnny was thrilled when he initially heard of the project, already envisioning his little’s love prospects, stating something along the lines of “my little’s gonna get laid!” 
However, now looking at Johnny rubbing his temples in exasperation, Jaehyun can tell that his roommate’s initial enthusiasm has dissipated. 
Mark’s daily roadblock today consisted of his crush giving him the cold shoulder and being much more snappy than before in the project meet up earlier. Mark recalls Yeri’s anger toward him and racks his brain for an answer. Even Johnny and Jaehyun are stumped at the sudden behavior, assuming that things were going smoothly from Mark’s previous reports filled with clumsy, but endearing and ultimately positive signs. It’s only when Mark offhandedly mentions her so-called ‘strange’ comment about the temperature, does it become clear why Yeri’s attitude suddenly shifted so drastically.
“I mean, I don’t know what I did wrong.” Mark’s second attempt to defend himself has Johnny flaring his nostrils in indignation and Jaehyun has to turn away in an attempt to stifle his laughter.
“Dude, she’s so into you. Or, at least she was, I don’t know about it anymore.” Johnny starts after calming down. “She left herself wide open for you to take a clear shot and you effectively said to her face, ‘thanks but no thanks’ and then walked away. No wonder she’s pissed, I’d be pissed too.” 
“Well, what was I supposed to do then?” Mark counters. 
“Mark,�� Johnny begins, his tone dry and coarse, “you’re killing me.”
Jaehyun deems this the perfect time to step in, the laughter about done coursing through his system at this point. He clears his throat before offering his input, “It’s not too, too bad. Johnny’s just being dramatic. If she likes you enough, she’ll probably forgive you if you play your cards right from here on out.” 
Mark perks up, his attention solely on Jaehyun. 
Jaehyun hums absentmindedly to himself, gathering and organizing his thoughts to properly explain exactly where and how Mark went wrong and what to do moving forward. When Jaehyun opens his mouth to speak, Mark is glued on to every word and Jaehyun can see the gears in his brain whirring at high speeds. 
By the time Jaehyun is done, Johnny has calmed down and Mark nods his head fervently in understanding. 
“Ah, that makes so much sense now! I got it now.” 
Despite his assurances, both Johnny and Jaehyun know Mark will be back soon. 
“Alright little, listen up,” Johnny starts. “Here’s the game plan from here on out.” 
Johnny goes off on a sermon, determined to help his little ‘get some’ as Johnny so delicately puts it. Jaehyun can see it’s not the most tasteful of word choice for Mark to hear, but the youngest says nothing. 
Lounging lazily in the bean bag on his side of the room, Jaehyun knocks his head back and thinks of a few weeks back when he accompanied Mark and some other frat members to the rec center for some basketball. Jaehyun remembers Mark was bemoaning the fact he forgot to ask for some girl’s number and it was as if a higher entity heard the boy’s laments and felt especially gracious, because right as they were passing the cafe, Mark stopped in his tracks and suddenly ran off into the busy building. 
The group of frat boys watched him excitedly weave his way through the crowd of bodies and occupied tables to reach a table with two girls. When they saw the girl putting her number into Mark’s phone, Johnny elbowed Jaehyun, and like a proud parent Johnny exaggeratedly acknowledged his little. “They grow up so fast, don’t they, Jaehyun.” Johnny even wiped an imaginary tear from his eye to really send the message home.
It was only a few moments later and Mark came bounding out of the cafe, eager to show everyone how lucky it was that he happened to see her. “I mean what are the odds, right?” the said boy exclaimed so happily, his cheer so infectious, Jaehyun couldn’t help himself from letting out a laugh of his own. 
Jaehyun turned to give Mark an encouraging pat on the back and it’s when he notices a pair of eyes on him. He turns fully to come in the direct line of sight of a girl whose eyes, Jaehyun imagined to have been very warm, had they not been burning holes into him. Her intense gaze slightly unnerved him, but not to the point of pulling away. He found himself entranced and the only thing that broke the quick spell was Johnny’s voice, calling him to move it along. 
Jaehyun recalls easily breaking eye contact and giving little thought to the strange girl with fire for eyes, but as the days passed, Jaehyun couldn’t shake the thought of her from his mind. 
Even now in the comfort of his room and with Johnny and Mark not even a foot away, carefully planning Mark’s love endeavors, all Jaehyun’s mind can really focus on is the thought of you. 
Jaehyun is sure he’s only looked at you for less than a minute, but somehow he’s able to clearly trace out the image of you that day, like a perfect snapshot. 
“Yo Jaehyun,” Johnny calls. “You good? You’ve been spacing out, bro.”
“Yeah, I’m good.” Jaehyun answers offhandedly, before contemplating to himself. Was he good? Jaehyun wouldn’t necessarily say he’s bad in any way, but it isn’t normal for him to have the thought of a girl remain so clearly engraved in his mind for so long, and even less common for it to actually be a girl he doesn’t even know nonetheless. It’s not a pressing issue, but it does bother him. He weighs over the next steps in his mind. 
“Alright, just making sure.”
With one last thought, Jaehyun concludes to himself that it’s time to tackle his concern at hand head-on. 
“Actually,” he starts, “Mark, do you remember the girl next to Yeri the day you asked for her number?” 
Mark quirks his head in thought and Jaehyun can see Johnny raise his eyebrows in sudden interest. 
“Uh kinda,” Mark answers. “I think she’s a CWP major. I’m pretty sure we shared an arranging class last semester, but like, I don’t know her personally or anything; it was a large lecture. To be honest, I don’t even think she recognized me at all, judging from her reaction that day. Why, what’s up?”
Jaehyun nods, absorbing the information, giving Johnny ample time to fire away. 
“Yeah Jaehyun,” Jaehyun can visualize the glint in Johnny’s eyes just from hearing his mischievous tone. “What is up? I haven’t seen you ask about a girl in a hot minute. Thought you suddenly went abstinent without telling me or something.”
Jaehyun isn’t quite sure how to reply. Without a doubt you were cute to Jaehyun and he wouldn’t be opposed for things to happen between the two of you, but he doesn’t even know you! Well, not that it’s been a problem for Jaehyun in the past, but your lingering presence bothers him in ways he cannot communicate. Why is that the thought of you won’t leave him and why does it bother him so much?
Jaehyun decides to be straightforward, as straightforward as his muddled brain allows him to be. “She’s cute. I wanna get to know her.” 
“Okay, Jaehyun.” Johnny whoops obnoxiously. “I see you.” 
Mark is surprised and suddenly Johnny is all fired up again. Abruptly, Johnny shoots up and the determination that burns in his eyes is admirable. 
“I’ve got it!” He declares proudly. 
Jaehyun and Mark are quiet, waiting patiently for him to continue. They say nothing, knowing there is not a thing that can reach him when Johnny gets like this. 
“We’re throwing a party and you bet your ass your two girls are gonna be there.”
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4. Heaven by Ailee
walking on Cloud 9. 
“When I hear your voice, it feels like I’m dreaming.”
You look up at the two-story house before you and wonder how you got here. Actually, you don’t wonder at all because you know exactly how you ended up at the steps of the local performing arts fraternity at your college, but you sigh regardless, as if someone had weaseled you into being here. Your nerves gnaw at you and you feel your stomach doing all types of aerobic tricks, the feeling reminiscent of the sensation before the roller coaster drops. 
Yeri grabs your hand and pulls you excitedly to the front door. You can feel the thrum of music emanating from the building.  
You recall how Yeri almost jumped you to tell the good news. 
Finals flew by without any major hitches, ignoring sleepless nights and caffeine crashes. You don’t know how you’ll do, but you’re satisfied with your exam performances. You were in the clear and were just waiting for Yeri to present her joint music theory project before the both of you could finally let loose as a celebration to end the school year. 
You waited for her outside of the classroom building as promised, playing with your phone to past time until you were suddenly engulfed by a delighted pair of arms. Yeri hugged you tight; she was in high spirits, seemingly from acing her presentation and you hugged her back in congratulations. She pulled at you closer and whispered in your ears, “just say yes.” 
You were confused, but looked up to see Mark headed toward the two you. Yeri released you, leaving one arm still slung casually over your shoulder.
“Hey guys. My frat’s throwing a party tonight to celebrate finishing exams. I was wondering if, uh, you guys wanted to come? I mean you don’t have to, it’s totally optional.” 
You didn’t say anything at first and Yeri interjected, “Of course!” She smiled at you innocently despite harshly pinching you to respond, her action hidden from Mark’s sight. “We’d love to, right?”
“Uh,” you answered distractedly. “Y-yeah, sure.” 
“Great.” Mark beamed. “Party starts at eight. I gotta go help set up, so I’ll see ya there!” 
And with that, he left as soon as he arrived and you looked at Yeri questioningly for answers. “I thought we were hitting downtown tonight. What happened to club hopping?” 
Yeri smiled devilishly, “change of plans. I’ll tell you more about it later. The most important thing is finding the perfect outfit for you tonight, cause Jaehyun’s gonna be there.” 
And so, here you find yourself dressed in high-waisted shorts and a cute top that took an embarrassingly long time to decide on. You are greeted by the fraternity president at the door of the house, Taeyong you think his name is, and he gives you two a quick verbal tour of the place, really emphasizing where to get drinks. Yeri thanks him for the both of you and you enter the crowded house. You think at least half of the performing art majors must’ve been here judging by the sheer volume of packed bodies. 
You remember Yeri explaining how she and Mark may have been making a breakthrough and this party was imperative for its success. You were completely okay attending for that reason alone, because after all, what kind of person sends her best friend to a frat party alone? However, your resolve to go was set in stone after she explained that the frat that was throwing the party just happened to be the same frat Jaehyun was a member of. 
“And y’know, seeing as how you’ve been obsessing over him the past few weeks, it’s the perfect opportunity.” 
You frown remembering her words and make your way to the kitchen with Yeri in tow. Various beverages, alcoholic and non-alcoholic, crowd the table and you recognize the guy standing nearby idly chatting with others. It’s Jaemin, an acting major in your history lecture with whom you frequently exchange notes with when either one of you decides to flake for the day. You vaguely recall him mentioning his fraternity association, but didn’t realize it happened to be this one. He sees the two of you approaching the drink table and he smiles widely.
“Oh hey, what’s up?” Jaemin greets casually. “Didn’t expect to see you here. How’d you think you did in the history final?” 
You groan. “I don’t even want to talk about it. What’s important is that we’re finished and I won’t ever have to think about the WWII timeline for, hopefully, forever.”
“Amen,” Jaemin laughs. “I’ll drink to that.” He raises up his red solo cup to cheers, before realizing both you and Yeri had nothing to drink. 
“Oh shit, I’m a pretty bad host, huh? First thing I should've done was get you two something to drink.” He chides himself, but his tone is playful. “What can I get for you, ladies?”
Before you can think about what you want, Yeri cuts you off, her tone matching Jaemin’s. “How about some shots to start off and we’ll forgive the lack of hospitality.”
Jaemin laughs again. “Alright, I like it.” His hands are adept at weaving around the table and finding the paper shot cups and the vodka. “Svedka’s okay, right?” 
“We’re not picky.” You and Yeri agree. You take the shot in one gulp and the unpleasant burning in your throat makes you wince. 
“Can I get you two anything else?” 
“Yeah,” you say. “I think another shot and then a mixed drink. Anything’s fine, but preferably on the stronger side.” You look over at Yeri and she nods in agreement.
“Coming right up.” Jaemin agrees easily. 
He pours the two of you another shot and you think he must be a generous guy because the shot is overflowing. You and Yeri cheer once more while Jaemin gets to work mixing a cherry bourbon with some Coke. He tops off the drinks with some ice before handing it over to the both of you. “Here they are. Enjoy, ladies.”
You thank him and take a sip before excusing yourself to make your way around the party. The drink is sweet and the smoky aftertaste of the bourbon gives it a pleasant edge. You and Yeri are attached to the hip as you drift from one part to another around the party, making easy going small talk along the way. You are sufficiently buzzed by this point and feel much lighter as though the party was somehow two degrees removed from your senses. You look over to check on Yeri and she’s noticeably drunker than you are, giggling about the simplest of things and slurring her words just the slightest bit. You make a mental note to ease the drinking, wanting to be sober enough to look after her in case anything were to arise. 
The two of you are at the base of the stairs when you hear Mark’s voice calling Yeri’s name. You turn your attention upward to see him ambling down the stairs with excited fervor. His cheeks are flushed, more so than usual around Yeri, and you can tell it’s due to alcohol because Mark is holding her hands and you know he can never be so bold without the help of liquid courage. 
“Yo Mark, slow down there.” A voice calls out and you look up again and you feel your breath caught in your throat. 
There in front of your eyes is Jung Jaehyun in the flesh. He looks heavenly dressed in simple jeans and a white tee. You unconsciously swallow the lump in your throat and your heart beat gallops a mile a minute in your chest. Your mouth goes dry and you mindlessly gulp down swigs of your drink. You know Yeri would’ve sniggered at your current state had she not been so tipsy and completely preoccupied with Mark. 
Jaehyun catches up to Mark and when he reaches the base of the stairs, he notices the two of you.
“Oh Jaehyun, lemme introduce you guys.” 
As promised, Mark introduces everyone quickly and Jaehyun shoots a smile that seems to be aimed at you. “Nice to meet everyone.” 
“Cool, now that everyone knows each other,” Mark starts. “Yeri, can I show you something?” 
“Uh, y-yeah.” 
You give Yeri a hard look and she takes your hand to squeeze it in reassurance. She looks at you pleadingly and there’s a confidence in her eyes that you can’t argue with. You relent and let her go. 
Mark takes her by the hand and leads her up the stairs while you watch, slightly worried. 
Jaehyun seems to have sensed your apprehension because the words that leave his mouth snaps you out of your perturbed state. “Don’t worry. Mark’s a good kid, you have nothing to worry about. You have my word on it.” 
And suddenly the situation dawns on you. The boy of your recent all-consuming infatuation stands here before you, and it’s just the two of you alone. Any social skills you have, leave you and you’re unsure of what to do. 
Jaehyun notices the awkward tension in the air and works quickly to dispel it. “Your drink’s looking low. Can I get you something else?” 
You look down to your drink to see that he was right. Only a few sips remain. You didn’t realize you had drank so much at the sight of Jaehyun. 
“Um, some water would be good. I don’t want to be too hungover tomorrow.” You answer shyly. You also need to be sober enough to look after Yeri, but you decide to leave that out.
Jaehyun chuckles, “sure thing. Here, come with me. I’ll get you some water.”
Jaehyun leads you to the kitchen with ease, seamlessly weaving through the crowds of people. Every group of people he passes greets him loudly to be heard of the pounding bass of the music. You are not surprised to see how popular he is. 
Once in the kitchen, he grabs you a bottle of water and a beer for himself from the fridge and you thank him. The cold water is refreshing, but it does little to cool your nerves. The awkward tension is high and still ever present. You feel as though you’re drowning in it and you also feel like running away from here despite this being what you’ve wanted for more than anything for weeks on end. 
“So,” Jaehyun starts, clearing his throat. “Mark told me you’re a CWP major?” 
“Uh, y-yeah, actually.” You hate how you’re so flustered around him. “How’d he know? Did Yeri tell him or something?” 
“He said you guys shared an arranging class last semester.” Jaehyun recalls.
“Wait, really? I had no idea.” You start going off on how you could’ve missed such a thing and Jaehyun smiles. You’re much more comfortable when a rhythm has been established and the words flow out of you easily. You’re not as relaxed as where Jaehyun wants you to be, but he thinks it’s a good start. 
You continue with small talk from there, much less uptight than before and you feel glad. Jaehyun is as radiant in person as he is in your imagination. You find him to be very kind and your heart flutters even more. Jaehyun mentions he’s a musical theatre major and you do your best to act surprised despite it being one of the only things you know about him prior to this moment.
Before he gets a chance to tell you more about himself, a tall boy with long limbs calls out to Jaehyun that it’s his turn to join the next game of beer pong. Jaehyun looks reluctant to leave and you don’t want him to leave either, but you’d hate to hold him back from prior engagements. 
“Would you,” Jaehyun licks his lips in consideration, “like to play with me? I don’t have a partner.” 
You nod your head and readily agree, eager to spend more time with him.
You’ve only played beer pong a handful of times and being around Jaehyun makes you nervous, so you miss the first few shots. You feel embarrassed, but Jaehyun is patient and assures you that it’s no problem at all. His little words of encouragement mixed with the beer you drink helps melt your tension, and halfway through the game, you’re whooping and hollering with everyone watching the game. 
You high-five Jaehyun without a second thought after nailing a perfect shot and Jaehyun smiles even wider. The two of you are leading when Taeyong comes in to kick everyone out. 
“Sorry guys, party’s over.” 
Groans of complaints could be heard throughout the crowd, but Taeyong’s words are firm and he ushers everyone to leave. He has a few other frat members behind him helping out. He reaches the beer pong table and pulls Jaehyun aside. After a few exchanged words, Jaehyun nods in agreement and ends the game completely, apologizing to his opponents. 
You’re confused, so you carefully ask Jaehyun what’s going on. He sees you and his gaze softens, he quietly explains, “apparently, the campus police have received multiple noise complaints and since the fraternity already has a strike, Taeyong doesn’t really want to risk another. “
“Ah, I see.” You nod. You’re saddened by the turn of events, having finally eased into a relative comfort around Jaehyun and you yearn for more. “Well, I better go look for Yeri then.” 
This is a goodbye and you’re unsure of what else to say to him, your disappointment mixes with alcohol making you feel even more miserable. You want to ask for more, but can’t find the words to reach him. Luckily, Jaehyun does it for you. 
“Are you free sometime this week?” He asks. “I feel like we didn’t get a chance to really talk and I’d like to.” 
Your heart hammers and the blood rushes in your ears, but you still find yourself uttering a mousy agreement.
“Great,” his smile is dazzling and you feel dizzy. “It’s a date then.”
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5. 24 Hours by Sunmi
rushed minutes. 
“Time goes by so quickly.”
“Hey,” a distant voice calls out and Jaehyun looks up from his phone to see your approaching figure. Your cheeks are rosy from the summer sun and stray pieces of your hair escape from your loosely styled updo. Jaehyun takes all of you in with careful appreciation.
“Hey yourself.” Jaehyun chuckles, slipping his phone casually in his pocket and standing up straighter to greet you properly.
Jaehyun sees the red of your face flush brighter, the soft color bleeding across your cheeks and onto your nose. Cute, he thinks. He watches as you tighten your grip on your clutch, knuckles white with nervous tension, in an attempt to gather your composure and calm your nerves. You clear your throat, “I didn’t know you’d be here so soon. You should’ve texted me.” 
“It’s all good, I finished early.” Jaehyun notices you no longer stutter around him like the first night you two met. He’s glad the days and nights of sober texting after exchanging numbers at the party did wonders to make you feel comfortable around him. He’s not too worried about your current ‘first-date’ anxiety, knowing it’ll be dispelled soon enough. “Shall we?” He moves to open the door and the cool rush of air from the cafe greets the two of you. 
The cafe is quaint and cozy, tucked away in a small corner of intersecting back streets and crowded buildings. Jaehyun discovered the little spot not too long ago and something, Jaehyun assumes his instincts, compelled him to take you to it for the first official date. It just felt right.
The two of you walk to the order counter and you take it all in. You can hear the quiet chatter of the cafe occupants mixed with the rattle of espresso machines being put to work. Your eyes scan over the decorations and several potted succulents hanging from the ceiling. It’s incredibly homey and you feel at ease. 
“Hiya, I can help the two of you whenever you guys are ready.” The barista is cheerful to a fault and Jaehyun watches you shoot her a grateful smile before your eyes move to the menu to decide on what to get. 
Jaehyun knows what he wants, so he waits patiently for you to decide, but seeing your eyebrows scrunch together in indecision, Jaehyun chuckles to himself. “I hear the iced lattes here are really good, particularly the caramel latte,” he offers. 
You perk up in surprise, but you recover quickly, “okay, that sounds good then. I was between that and the iced cocoa.”
“No problem, I’ll order then. Today’s on me.” Jaehyun says. 
Jaehyun walks up to the barista and quickly places the order. He reaches for his wallet after the barista recites the order, but he falters slightly when he sees your gaze glued to the cake display, particularly the crepe cake. 
“Can I get a slice of the chocolate crepe cake over there too?” 
“Of course! Here’s your new total,” she turns the touch screen display over to Jaehyun and he readily inserts his card to pay. When finished, Jaehyun turns back the screen and after a few taps from the barista, a receipt is printed and she hands him a buzzer. 
“Your order will be out shortly.” She informs him.
Jaehyun smiles and says a small ‘thank you’ in return before turning his attention to you. You look up to meet his eyes and you smile, “can we sit over there by the window?” 
You head to the little corner table first with Jaehyun steadily in tow. You sit at the chair that leaves your back to the window and Jaehyun is mesmerized by how the afternoon sunlight refracts through your silhouette. You’re glowing and Jaehyun swallows thickly. 
“So,” he starts. “What have you been up to?”
“Celebrating finishing my first year of college in one piece.” You laugh lightly. “I got by with passable grades, but other than that Yeri and I just finished moving into our new dorms. We’re no longer freshmen, so first year dorms are off limits. I’m gonna miss the convenient location.” You jokingly mope. 
Jaehyun laughs easily with you and before he gets a chance to reply, the buzzer goes off so he excuses himself to go pick up the order. 
A different barista places down a tray with your two drinks and a small slice of cheesecake with two dessert forks resting on some napkins. “Enjoy your order!” 
Jaehyun smiles in thanks and picks up the tray to bring it back to the table. He can’t wait to see the look on your face when you see the mille crepe cake and true to his expectations, your eyes light up at the sight of dessert. 
“Surprise.” He says. “I saw you looking at it earlier.” 
Jaehyun watches as you immediately grab a small fork and try a piece of the cake with unrestricted child-like excitement. Your eyes light up at the taste of the delicate layers of fresh whipped cream and thin crepes and the smile you shoot in his direction has Jaehyun’s heart beating a little faster than he’s willing to admit. 
“Thank you!” You look up at him. “It’s so good, you should definitely try a bite too.” 
“Yeah? I’ll try some then.” Jaehyun sits down and leans even closer to you over the table, his mouth open and expectant and his eyes staring straight into yours. 
You try your best to bite back the scarlet fighting to stain your cheeks as you cinch off a small section of the cake with your fork. Your hand falters just the slightest bit when delivering the small confection to his awaiting mouth, but you push through and feed him despite the embarrassment you feel. 
Jaehyun chews slowly and deliberately, taking his time to lick the stray whipped cream from the corner of his mouth. You lose the game of chicken, breaking eye contact first. 
“Yeah,” he agrees. “It’s good. We should definitely come back.” 
You let out a little awkward cough, desperate to ward off your cloud of emotions. “Uhm, yeah sure.”
Jaehyun has always thought you were cute, but he thinks you’re especially cute today. 
“Anyway,” you start. You want to change the topic because you don’t think you can survive this tension without your brain frying. “I feel like I’ve just seen you around recently. I should’ve run into you a long time ago since the performing arts college is so small.” 
“Oh,” Jaehyun is a little taken aback. “I used to be over at the East Campus. I was a business and administration major for two years before I switched over to musical theatre.”
“Wait really?” Your surprise erases any tension you felt earlier. “I had no idea.”
“Yeah,” he laughs. “It doesn’t really come up in conversation.” 
“Why’d you switch over? If you don’t mind me asking.” 
Jaehyun contemplates his reply for a second as takes a sip of his coffee. “Well, when I entered college, I didn’t really know what I wanted, so I just followed whatever my parents wanted me to do. I actually knew I liked musical theatre for the longest time, but it took time for me to build up the courage to switch. My parents weren’t happy with it at first and we fought for the longest time, but I think they’ve warmed up to it enough by now. I’ve never really talked about this though, I just tell people I transferred from a different college and the conversation just ends there I guess, but it’s really no big deal.”
“Thank you for telling me this, Jaehyun.” Your voice is sincere and Jaehyun believes you.
“What about you, hm?” Jaehyun returns. “Why CWP?” 
“I don’t really have one point that changed my life and helped me find my calling or whatever,” you ponder with a tilt of the head and the taste of cream dissolving in your mouth. “But ever since I was little, I always knew I was gonna end up doing something in music. I was never good at singing though, so vocal performance was out the door and I wasn’t that interested in classical instruments either, so that helped me narrow stuff down. Actually, what really helped me decide was during orientation, my group leader was a contemporary writing and production major and she told me all about it and I’ve been sold ever since. I really like it though, and have no intention of switching.”
“That’s good. Sometimes I wish I switched earlier.” Jaehyun muses. “I feel so behind sometimes. Most people in my class have already been in at least one musical and an internship, except for me. I think about it a lot, but I try not to let it get me so down.” 
“You shouldn’t feel that way!” You try your best to cheer him up, and Jaehyun appreciates it a lot more than he thought he would. “Everyone has their own pace, that’s what college is all about! Nothing is ever wasted time. You can think of your time as a business admin major as a way to help you make up your mind on your true passion. You told me you’ve always liked musical theatre, but I’ve bet without the time in business, you would’ve never known you liked it enough to pursue a career out of it.”
Jaehyun laughs at your earnesty. He thinks you’re a touch naive, but your words make him feel light. “You’re right. I can say for sure I wasn’t happy as a business major.”
“See? Nothing is ever wasted time if you can discover your true happiness out of it.” 
The two of you exchange easy chatter after that and between small bites of cake and sips of coffee, Jaehyun thinks you’ve become prettier and prettier.
“What was it like?” You ask absentmindedly.
“Hm? What was ‘what’ like?”
“Being a business and administration major.”
Jaehyun has to think about it. He recalls constantly dressing up for group presentations and boring lectures, but his mind wanders to his activities outside the classroom. He remembers the constant partying and the blur of faces that helped him keep his bed warm. He remembers brief flings and relationships cut short. He doesn’t want to think about those things when he’s next to you. “Uhm. It was okay, nothing special, but that reminds me–”
“Yeah?”
“Are you free next weekend?”
“I should be. Why, what’s up?”
“Great,” Jaehyun smiles while taking the last sip of his coffee. “I’m having a housewarming party at my new apartment. You should definitely be there.” 
--
The day of the long awaited housewarming party rolls up sooner than expected between settling into your new dorm with Yeri and the occasional small ‘get-togethers’ with Jaehyun. They’re actually dates if you're being honest, but you don’t want to put a title on anything in case he wasn’t on the same page as you. Being with Jaehyun made you giddy in more ways than one, but that means the anxiety that pools at the base of your stomach grows larger each day when the relationship between the two of you goes unnamed. You feel greedy when you desperately grasp at the shred of time you share with him, always unwillingly to let go.
“Are you ready?” Yeri’s voice breaks you out of your small reverie. Her hand is poised, ready to knock on the black door of Jaehyun’s apartment, waiting for you to gather your composure. Yeri is dressed to the nines in a cute skirt with a top to match. She wants to look good for her new boyfriend and you teased her endlessly for it when the two of you were getting ready.
“Mark’s one lucky guy.”
“Shut up. Worry about yourself.”
“All I do is love you, yet you’re so mean to me.”
Regardless of her harsh words toward you, she helped you toss your closet inside and out for the perfect outfit to woo Jaehyun, even if it meant showing up late to the party. 
The two of you leave your dorm twenty minutes later than you intended and it also didn’t help that Jaehyun’s apartment was difficult to find, tucked away in a small building between towering skyscrapers, but now is finally the moment of truth. 
“Yeah, I’m ready as I’ll ever be,” you mutter as you watch Yeri knock on the door. 
It takes a minute before the door creaks open and Jaehyun’s head pops out. His smile is radiant and you’re absolutely ensnared by the way his fringe falls over his forehead. 
“Hey, glad you two could make it.” Jaehyun opens the door wider to allow you and Yeri to enter. He greets Yeri with polite warmth while he wraps an arm over your shoulders. When Yeri heads in the apartment first with her back against the two of you, Jaehyun steals a quick peck to your temple and whispers, “you look pretty tonight.”
His touch is fleeting and he pulls back quickly, as if you imagined the whole thing, but his cheeky smile tells you that it really did happen. Your heart hammers and you force yourself to focus on the steady thrum of mellow R&B that reverberates throughout his apartment to calm yourself. You take his apartment in steady strides with your full attention. It’s sleek and modern with a few pops of his personality here and there in the form of trinkets decoration choices. 
“Hey!” Johnny calls over from the couch. He has a beer in hand, but he’s far from tipsy. Flanked on one side is Doyoung with another beer to match and on the other is Sicheng. Seulgi, the girl, who you assume is Sicheng’s significant other, by the way his arm is casually wrapped around her waist, is also there and she nods at you in greeting. You've come to know about all of them after hanging out with Jaehyun so much. “Did you guys get lost or something?” 
“Yeah,” Yeri replies as she moves to sit next to Mark who’s on the adjacent loveseat and resting a drink on the coffee table.  “Something like that.”  
She places a sweet kiss to the corner of Mark’s mouth in greeting and you swear you can hear him crooning at the attention. 
“Doesn’t matter, Johnny. The important thing is that they’re here now.” Jaehyun interjects. “Do you guys want anything to drink?”
“That’d be nice.” You hum.
Yeri laughs in agreement, “yeah, the two of us could never say no to a drink.”
“Alright, I’m on it.” Jaehyun calls while moving to the kitchen. “Any preferences?”
“No,” you say. “Surprise us.”
Jaehyun works to mix drinks and you take a seat on the floor next to the coffee table to observe the party. Perched on the shelf of a slender bookcase in the corner of his living room is a bluetooth speaker playing music, the rhythm quiet and bass steady as everyone chatters away once introductions are made on the sofas. You remember him offhandedly mentioning that he doesn’t want any noise complaints on his first week in the new place and it makes sense. Jaehyun’s housewarming party is a quiet affair that is far different from the wild party at the frat house in which you met him, but you think this vibe fits Jaehyun more.
Jaehyun returns shortly with two drinks in tow for you and Yeri and sits himself snugly next to you on the floor. He picks his idle beer from the coffee table and once Johnny realizes that everyone in the proximity has a drink in hand, he raises his voice and beer in a toast. “It sucks that Taeyong couldn’t make it tonight, but here’s to having fun without him. We’re gonna get twice as fucked up to make up for his absence, cheers!”
Everyone lets out a chuckle, but obliges to humor him anyway and joins to connect their drink to his in cheers. 
You pull your cup back and take a big gulp of the drink. It’s sweet and carbonated, but the sting of alcohol at your throat leaves you wincing just the slightest bit.
A few pleasantries are exchanged here and there, but it’s only then does Doyoung pull out a deck of cards with a devilish glint in his eyes that deceive his looks. 
“Ring of fire, anyone?”
--
After who knows how many rounds of ring of fire (and maybe a few other drinking games here and there) with too many drink refills for you to remember, you somehow find yourself splayed on the couch and leaning over Yeri’s shoulder in support. Seulgi is on the other side of you leaning on you for support, the same way you’re doing to Yeri, but you don’t mind it one bit. The three of you have grown surprisingly close with one another throughout the night.
Your mind is lucid enough to still be conscious and completely aware of where you are and what you’re doing, but the alcohol in your system eats away at the details in your memory. 
You vaguely recall ridiculous punishments that involved Johnny twerking on the dining room table and Mark taking a shot of Jack Daniels mixed with ketchup, and you can’t help but snicker to yourself. 
“I think we should get going now.” Sicheng is the first to speak as he moves to help Seulgi up. “It’s getting late.”
Doyoung looks a little groggy, but when he checks the time, he perks up immediately, “oh shit, you’re right. I need to get going too, I’ve got something in the morning.”
With that everyone shuffles to clean the remnants of the party with as much grace as they can muster while intoxicated, which wasn’t much, but in twenty minutes, Jaehyun is already walking half the party to the door in goodbye. Only you, Mark, and Yeri are left. 
“Hey Yeri,” Mark calls softly to Yeri as he brushes a strand of hair from her face. “Are you ready to go too?”
Yeri is still sprawled on the couch with you, but mumbles a small response. “Yeah, I should be. Give me a second.”
She turns over to you and nudges you just the slightest bit. “I’m gonna go back to Mark’s tonight, are you gonna be okay?”
“Yeah,” you assure her. “I’ll be fine, just go have fun.”
“She’s free to rest here until she’s ready to leave, don’t worry. I’ll call a cab for her when the time comes.” Jaehyun pipes up. 
Yeri gives you a look, but you squeeze her hand one last time to give her some peace of mind. “I’m a big girl, Yeri. I’ll be okay, promise. I’ll walk you to the door, Mark’s waiting.”
You give Yeri a tight hug in goodbye and you find your way back to the couch. The fact that you’re all alone in Jaehyun’s apartment doesn’t hit because of the remnants of alcohol in your system melts away your nerves. 
You’re pleasantly buzzed, lost in your own thoughts when Jaehyun comes up to you with a glass of water in hand. “Here, so you don’t feel as bad tomorrow morning.”
You accept it gratefully and take in big gulps, the water refreshing, but your skin feels hot. 
Jaehyun takes a seat next to you and the proximity makes your head spin. You turn to look at him, and he flashes you a smile.
“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”
“You might’ve mentioned something.” You tease. “But I don’t mind hearing it again.”
“Well,” he hums. You’re not sure, but you think the distance between the two of you is decreasing. “You really do look stunning tonight.”
You flush at his words, but you look straight into his eyes. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”
“Yeah? I try to impress.” Jaehyun’s eyes are hooded and your throat goes dry. “Can I kiss you?”
You say nothing at first, his words not registering into your muddled brain, but when you feel his breath ghost over your lips, you don’t hesitate to close the gap between you. 
His lips are slightly chapped and you can taste the vodka on his breath, but to you it’s perfect. Jaehyun’s perfect.
Jaehyun kisses you with reserved passion and practiced expertise. His tongue sets the rhythm against yours and his roaming hands have you feeling as if you’ve been set ablaze. He pulls back just the tiniest bit and the intense longing for his touch that hits you is indescribable. 
You pull him back in your arms and your lips reconnect in a desperate fervor. Jaehyun adjusts his arms around you and the next you know, you’re in his embrace and he’s carrying you to his bedroom. He places you down gently, his bed is plush and comforter soft. 
Jaehyun’s touch is gentle as he gathers your face in his hands. He kisses you again and you wrap your arm around his neck to pull him closer. He pulls back and looks at you earnestly. “I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with. We don’t have to do anything tonight.”
Everything’s moving so fast and you’re dizzy, but you don’t want whatever this is to stop. You want to be as close to Jaehyun as possible.
“No,” your voice is hoarse. “Don’t stop. I want you, Jaehyun.”
He kisses you again, this time unrestrained. His tongue is hot, but you can only savor it for a minute before he starts trailing kisses down your neck and tugging at your shirt. You let out a breathy moan in response to how his touches make you feel. 
Jaehyun reaches at your shorts and makes quick work at unbuttoning them. You help him remove the article of clothing and his slender fingers dart inside your panties. You’re slick to the touch and Jaehyun must be made of magic because you think you’re seeing stars. You unravel before him embarrassingly quick, but he kisses you at the base of your clavicle in sweet reassurance. 
Your chest is heaving, but you want more. You grab at Jaehyun’s shirt, urging him to take it off. The expanse of his abdomen is a sight to behold, but Jaehyun is cruel and doesn’t give you the time to take it in. He’s on top of you again, lips crashing onto yours once more. He reaches behind you to unclasp your bra and while he’s pre-occupied, you unbuckle his belt and steal a moment in his boxers. He feels thick and hot in your hands as you run your finger over the tip to feel a drop of pre-cum. He buckles just the slightest bit and it emboldens you. 
Jaehyun helps himself out of his jeans and you push him onto the bed wanting to be on top this time. He’s straining against his boxers and you want to help relieve the tension. When you pull off his boxers you can feel his inaudible groan. You stroke his length gingerly and look up to see him with hooded eyes look right back at you. 
This excites you so you take him in your mouth in a moment of unfiltered courage. Your tongue starts at the base before tracing your way up to his sensitive head. You tease him accordingly to his quiet grunts and groans and when you feel like he’s had enough, you take all of him in until his tip is hitting the back of your throat. You gag a bit, but push through.
“Fuck,” Jaehyun stutters out between stacatoed breaths. “Babe, you’re so good.”
You hum in pleasure at his praise and he grabs your hair. This goes on for a few more minutes before he reaches down to stop you. “Not that I don’t love this,” the look in your eyes nearly has him faltering his words, “but I don’t want to cum just yet.”
You relent with a slick pop and Jaehyun shifts over to rummage for a condom in his nightstand. You settle back down in his pillows. Jaehyun gives you a soft kiss on the lips before he enters you. 
“Tell me when it’s okay to move,” he whispers and you place a small kiss at the base of his neck. 
He starts off slow to let you acclimate to his size, but neither of you are very patient, so he ends up pounding into you a lot sooner than he anticipated and you find yourself getting caught up in the pleasure.
It feels like you’re dreaming, but if this was a dream, you never want to wake up.
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6. Hush by Miss A
shh, no talking, just us.
“I can’t think straight.”
You and Jaehyun don’t become official until a few weeks later. 
He asks you one day when you’re naked and out of breath. You’ve gone one too many rounds with him and a thin layer of sweat coats your body as you lay on his heaving chest. You absentmindedly draw shapes on his skin and he gives you a chaste kiss to your temple.
“We should date.” He hums. “I think I’d make a good boyfriend.”
“Yeah?” You raise your eyebrow in teasing.
“Yeah,” he ascertains. “Give me a chance and I’ll show you.”  
“Hmm,” you pretend to think it over as if this wasn’t you’ve been hoping for since the first moment you laid eyes on him. “Okay. Let’s give it a try, boyfriend.”
Jaehyun laughs and you feel the world fall into its right place. “Alright, girlfriend.”
And the rest is history as they say. 
Jaehyun isn’t your first, but you experience many firsts with him. You’re not exactly inexperienced, but he really opens your eyes.
“Fuck,” he groans into your neck. His hands grip at your hips to help guide you along, but you’re fully in charge. “You’re doing so good, babe. Just like that.” 
You didn’t see yourself as someone who liked to take charge during sex, but after that one time Jaehyun asked you to top, you’ve never looked back since. 
You roll hips into him and at a pace you know drives Jaehyun wild and you pull him into a sloppy kiss. It’s all tongue and no grace, but you love it the same regardless. You capture his bottom lips between your teeth playfully before pushing him flat on his back until he’s firm against his plush mattress. You place a hand on his chest and the other on his thigh to balance yourself and Jaehyun immediately knows you’re close. 
A hand rests on your hip to steady you while the other snakes over to play with your clit to further stimulate you toward your climax. Jaehyun knows what you like and his timing is impeccable, so before you know it, both of you are reaching your highs together. You collapse on his chest and you allow yourself to stay in his warmth long enough to have your breaths synchronize before you extricate yourself from him to head to his bathroom. 
When you come back out, he’s disposed of the used condom and opens your arm wide for a hug, which you gladly indulge in.
Time stops when you’re in his arms.
--
On the surface, it looks like Jaehyun likes to mix it up. He seems like  an elusive guy with varied tastes, but the more time you spend with him, you realize he likes the control of seeing you unravel before him.
He likes the intimacy of missionary. 
The close proximity to your body has him looking into your eyes and leaving you feeling the most vulnerable of ways. He has full access to your neck, which he lovingly claims as his own and you chide him the next day when you see scattered purple blooms. Jaehyun changes his pace on a whim and you fall to his mercy. When he takes you fast and hard, you see stars, but when thrusts in you with languid leisure, he has you begging for more. 
He likes the intensity of taking from behind. 
When you’re on your knees with your ass in the air, he takes it as a guarantee to fuck you senseless. Your muffled moans makes his dick twitch and you swear you can feel him fuck into you even faster. Jaehyun always makes sure to wrap his arms around you to finger your clit until you go into sensory overload and he doesn’t stop pounding into you until there are tears in your eyes. He kisses each one away before taking your lips in his and you can taste the salt water on his tongue.
He likes the dominance from eating you out.
He laps at your core like a starved man and makes good use of his adept fingers until your head is spinning. Jaehyun makes it a habit to eat you out until you’re satisfied before he gets his turn. When your thighs are on either side of his head and your hands tangled in his hair, he swears he can stay there forever.
Above all, Jaehyun just likes you. He likes being with you and he definitely likes fucking you and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
--
“Mmmh,” you breathe out.
Your back is flush against Jaehyun’s back as you rock your hips back and forth on his dick. You grind your ass back even harder when he pinches your nipple between his fingers. 
He kisses your shoulder blade from behind and bucks his hip upward to meet you in the middle. 
The afternoon sunlight is streaming in from the gaps of his blinds and you want to take it nice and slow today. The television in front of you is playing a movie, but you’re too enraptured by the feeling of him filling you to the brim to pay it any mind. 
“I love it when you’re on top, babe.” he hums as he plays with your clit. 
You let out another breathy groan before you can find the composure to bite back at him. “What happened to no sex today, hmm? I thought we were just going to have innocent quality time together and watch a movie.”
Jaehyun must’ve not liked your sass, so he bucks up harder. He’s telling you to pick up the pace and you oblige. Before you know, you’re practically bouncing on his dick and you can feel your impending high about to crash down on you. He can sense it too and maintains his tempo. When you cum, Jaehyun rides on the tail of your climax in pursuit of his own. He cums shortly after with stuttering hips and a bite on your shoulder. He gathers you in his arms and runs his tongue soothingly over where he bit you and the various love bites that he’s littered on the expanse of your skin. 
“Just being with you is quality time in itself.” He says. “Besides, class is starting soon, so I won’t get to see you as much.”
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7. Disturbance by BoA
a ripple on the surface.
“I didn’t know at first.”
“So I do have a roommate after all,” Yeri’s voice calls out and you turn over to see her standing by the doorway. You roll your eyes at her, but quickly turn back to gather your things. 
She lets out a chuckle, but you don’t miss the sour edge to her tone. “I thought I got a single dorm since it’s so empty all the time.”
“You say that, Yeri,” you retort. “But I know you’re over at Mark’s constantly so I don’t wanna hear it from you.”
“Yeah, but I make time to come back here and I always let you know when I’m going out. I feel like I’ve only seen you maybe once or twice the past few months. I feel like the only reason I see you these days is ‘cause of classes.”
“You’re just exaggerating, don’t be so dramatic. Come on, let’s go. I don’t want to be late.”
She looks displeased, but nothing leaves her lips as the two of you head out for the day.
--
It’s late. 
When night falls, shadows come out to play and your college campus is riddled with them. The school auditorium is situated in the far corner of the campus and the lamp lights of the main walkways do little, but you pay it little mind. Jaehyun should be getting out soon.
It takes another ten minutes to see him emerge from the double doors and you perk up immediately at the sight of him. He looks a little shocked to see you, but greets you with a warm hug and small peck regardless. 
“Hey,” his voice is small, almost reserved. “What are you doing here? I thought I told you I was finishing late tonight.”
“Oh, you did, but I still wanted to see you.” You explain, eyes bright and tone undeterred.
“Not that I don’t appreciate it,” he licks his lip. “But it’s really late and I still have more stuff I need to work on. I’ll see you some other time, okay?”
“Oh, okay.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry, babe. Next time.”
--
“Oh hey,” you smile, but Yeri’s fury is palpable and cuts through you.
“Don’t ‘oh hey’ me.” She spits out. “Where have you been? Why didn’t you answer your phone?”
Sheepish, you reply, “oh sorry. I forgot to fully charge it before leaving and Jaehyun and I have different phones, so I couldn’t charge it at his place.”
“You were at Jaehyun’s?” Yeri is glaring at you at this point and you feel a bit peeved. 
“Yeah. What of it?” 
Yeri’s been getting angry at you recently, losing her temper at the drop of a hat, and you can’t seem to pinpoint why. You’re getting tired of being her punching bag. 
“We made plans to go shop for Seulgi’s gift today. You promised you’d be there, don’t you remember?”
“Oh shit.” It completely slips from your mind and you open your mouth to apologize, but Yeri cuts you off before you get the chance.
“Forget it. I don’t want to hear it. It doesn’t matter anymore.”
Yeri turns to leave before you can say anything back.
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8. Symptoms by SHINee
something’s wrong.
“The worse it gets, the more exhausted I get.”
Jaehyun feels off.
He can’t pinpoint exactly what he is that he’s feeling, but he thinks it’s reminiscent of his world being tilted by six degrees. It’s not immediately jarring and takes little time for his eyes to register, but he’ll occasionally bump his toe, signalling that this isn’t right. Things aren’t where they’re supposed to be. His head spins just the slightest bit and he feels woozy, but he doesn’t know why.
Jaehyun just feels off.
--
Jaehyun checks the bulletin board of his school auditorium almost religiously. 
Each time before and after class, he’ll swing by and peruse the flyers that hang from haphazardly stuck on pins. He ignores the tutoring offers and the part time jobs scams, his main focus is almost always on the center of the board where they post the upcoming musical theatre production and eventually, the cast list. 
This semester, the chosen production is La La Land and Jaehyun has been dead set on landing the role of Sebastian Wilder. He stays back extra late each day to practice the script and to work on his singing and annunciation. 
On the day of the audition, he’s sure he’s nailed it and thinks to himself the world must be ending if he weren’t to get the leading role. 
When he leaves the auditorium in a rush, excitement flows through his veins and he drinks in the night air as a toast of victory. He’s tipsy on his excitement and wants to laugh out loud, but in the corner of his vision, he sees you. Your eyes light up the sight up, outshining the moon and the stars, but your visage does not elicit the reaction he thinks it should. He expects his heart to swell and burst, but somehow he feels heavy. 
He pulls you in for a hug and a quick kiss to quell his weighted heart, but he thinks he’s starting to sink so he calls you off for the night. He’ll see you next time. 
Yeah, next time will be better.
--
You’re snuggled up close and personal on Jaehyun’s chest. Jaehyun notices you fill every nook and cranny of his being perfectly to a tee, and yet that feeling. It’s there again. 
Jaehyun feels off. 
You laugh at something one of the characters say and you cuddle harder into him. He feels heavy again and it makes his throat itch, so he swoops down and captures your lips.
It’s hard and fast to scrub away at his uneasiness and before he knows it, his clothes are missing, but so are yours. The foreplay is brief and almost impersonal, but he doesn’t care. He just needs to be inside you. 
When Jaehyun has you begging and writhing, he feels like the world is where it should be. No longer is he living at a slight angle when he’s buried to the hilt inside your warmth, so when he sees you, he does what he can to get you out of your pants. 
Today is no different from any other. 
After a satisfying session you roll on his chest. Your kiss is soft and sweet despite the sweat that covers both of your bodies. He hums quietly as he taps melodies on along your exposed spine.
“Jaehyun?”
“Yeah?”
“I think I love you.”
Ah. Jaehyun thinks he’s getting it now, why he’s feeling off.
Jaehyun thinks he’s being suffocated.
--
To the surprise of no one, and especially not to him, Jaehyun gets the leading role of Sebastian Wilder in La La Land. He was a shoe-in for it anyway and he made sure to put in the work to get it. 
His leading lady is someone by the name of Park Sooyoung, but at the first rehearsal she introduces herself as Joy.
“It’s nice to meet you.” She offers her hand out in a friendly greeting. “Here’s to a successful show together, Jaehyun.”
Her smile is blinding and he thinks Joy is a fitting name. He grasps her outstretched hand, grip firm and sure. 
“Yeah,” he smiles back. “Here’s to a good show together.”
--
Rehearsals span over blurred minutes and long hours. 
Jaehyun sees less and less of you and spends more and more time with her. 
During a quick water break, he scans his phone briefly to see a text notification from you. He takes another swig of water and returns to the rehearsal.
It’s okay, he can always text you back later.
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9. Before U Go - TVXQ!
letting go.
“I will leave now.”
“Come on!” You tug both Mark and Yeri along excitedly. “I want to get good seats.”
Yeri rolls her eyes, but obliges anyway, pulling Mark along. It’s opening night for Jaehyun’s big musical and you wanted to be there no matter what to support him. Johnny, Doyoung, Taeyong, Sicheng, and Seulgi are already inside waiting and you’re not sure if they were able to save the three of you a spot. 
After a long chat with Yeri, you apologized profusely to her. You did get blinded by your relationship with him and prioritized him over everything, forgetting your friends and other responsibilities in the process. Yeri forgave you easily and helped keep you in line when you went to head over heels for Jaehyun. 
However, after patching things up with Yeri, you begin to notice a shift in your relationship with Jaehyun’s. You’re not quite sure how to describe it, but it almost feels like a distance almost. 
You chalk it up to his busy rehearsal schedule and choose not to dwell on the topic, in fears of your wandering imagination. It should be fine. After his musical is over, he’ll be less busy and things will fall back into place. 
Right?
“Over here!” Seulgi waves over excitedly. 
The auditorium is starting to fill up and you want to get comfortable before the show starts. 
Everyone greets each other in hushed tones and soon enough, the show starts. 
Right. Everything will be fine.
--
Jaehyun does amazing. 
Your eyes are trained on him the whole time and his singing has goosebumps pricking your skin. You can see the passion pour through him every time he’s on stage and you couldn’t be more proud. 
A nagging feeling at the pit of your stomach points out the undeniable chemistry between him and his co-star, but you push it deep down and suppress it. 
They’re actors, and they’re good at what they do. 
Yeah. They’re just acting. Yeah. Acting.
--
When the curtains close, you’re the first to shoot out of your seat, eager to meet him backstage. You weave through the endless crowd of people, murmuring your ‘sorry’s’ and ‘excuse me’s’ as you pass by. You reach the base of the backstage and shoot a message to let him know you’re waiting. You hum to yourself when you happen to overhear a conversation playing out. 
“You did so good, Jae.” 
“No, you definitely carried the show.” 
You turn up and you see them. Her eyes are almost soft and loving as she pulls your boyfriend in for a hug. They linger in the embrace longer than necessary and you clear your throat to catch his attention. 
He jolts just the slightest bit when he sees you and immediately lets her go. 
“Everyone’s waiting,” you say quietly. 
“Okay,” he nods. “Let me go get my stuff in the back.”
Jaehyun leaves the two of you alone and you wait for him to get back. 
When you leave, he waves goodbye to her and she smiles back.
--
Jaehyun’s celebration party is rowdy, but it’s to be expected when Johnny is the one hosting. 
He books a table at the local club and even orders bottle service. The eight of you work your way through two whole bottles of tequila and are already on your third. Jaehyun is downing the shots at a quicker pace than usual and you’re a bit concerned, but you’re unable to say anything because when you try, he whisks himself away to the dance floor and strikes up a conversation with someone else. 
You’re perturbed, but you say nothing. This is his celebration night and he can choose to enjoy it how he wishes. 
By the end of the night, Jaehyun is noticeably drunk and you haul him outside to get a breath of fresh air in hopes of sobering up. He’s heavy, but you make it out the side door. You prop him up on your side as you lean on the grimy brick walls. 
Months have passed and the weather is chilly. 
Jaehyun’s body sways and he murmurs something in your ear. You don’t catch it the first time, the overwhelming smell of tequila overtaking your senses. 
“What was that?”
He grumbles beneath his breath, steps staggering once more. He tries again, this time his words are crisp and clear and they cut into you in more ways than one. 
“I think we should end it.”
For someone so drunk, he sounds so sober.
You’re at a loss for words. A part of you knew this was coming from his lack of enthusiasm around you and his decreased texts. Even the cold night air couldn’t keep your heartbreak at bay. You say nothing, but you understand the both of you knew it was a silent agreement.
You breathe out wisps of chilled air as Jaehyun’s inebriated body stays slumped over on your side. 
--
You volunteer to take Jaehyun home.
You tuck him gently in bed making sure to prop him on his side in case he vomits during the night. You pour a glass of water and place an ibuprofen on his nightstand drawer for him in the morning. 
You kiss him on the forehead one last time. You hope it conveys all of the things brewing in your heart at the moment, but you know it doesn’t. 
Later, you leave his apartment with all of your belongings that you ever left there with the stars as your witness. 
You never return to his place again.
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10. Coffee Shop by B.A.P
what could’ve been.
“So without knowing, like a habit, I came here.”
Jaehyun wakes up to an empty bed.
Morning sunlight streams through his blinds and burns at his skin as a sign to get ready for the day. He blinks the drowsiness from his system and stretches his weary joints before heading to the bathroom to get ready for the day. 
On his rare day offs, he allows his body to go on auto-pilot. He completely shuts his brain off and allows it to do whatever it chooses.
Today, it takes him back to the cafe. 
His body knows where it’s going before it registers in his mind. 
The barista manning the order counter is different, but the decorations are the same, still the same succulents hanging from the ceilings. He mulls over the menu and goes up to order.
“Can I get an iced caramel latte?” Jaehyun doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth, but he’s feeling nostalgic today. 
“Of course! Here’s your total.” 
He pays with a swipe of his card and the barista goes to work making his drink. He waits around by the counter and soon enough, his drink is ready. That particular table is empty, so he grabs a chair to sit. His first sip is overly saccharine, but he appreciates how the flavor mellows out by the end of it. 
It’s been nearly a year since that night. 
Jaehyun remembers waking up to a splitting headache and a dry mouth. He thought nothing of the prepared setup as he gulps the ibuprofen and the glass of water in one go. Nothing seemed amiss really until a few days later. 
No one mentioned your name around him and he caught Seulgi giving him a look every now and then. Mark didn’t say much either, but Jaehyun felt him drifting away.
He thought he’d feel a lot more, but he didn’t. One day you were a part of his life and then the next day you weren’t. It really was that simple.
He kept in contact with Joy even after La La Land was over and maybe they were something more, but it didn’t last longer than a few weeks. 
It didn’t feel right when he was with her. Again, something felt off, but a different kind of off.
Joy was the one to end things with him, but he didn’t mind too much. 
He filled his days with study and practice and it wasn’t until he landed a job at his local theatre company that he realized.
It was you. It was always you and perhaps it still is you. 
Maybe you were different. Maybe you were the one, but Jaehyun didn’t try.
He recalls feeling smothered. You were always there at the beginning, but he took that for granted. 
There are a lot of things he regrets, but above all, he regrets not talking with you. He regrets not trying to work on it. He regrets being a coward and running away at the first signs of true emotions. 
You weren’t perfect, but neither was he, but he should’ve stayed so the both of you could work it out together. Jaehyun always did take too long to find the courage to pursue what he wanted.
With a final sip, he finishes the drink and moves to throw it away. Then, he sees you. Here, in the flesh, in almost a year. 
Your hair is longer, but your cheeks are still as rosy as ever. You walk up to order and Jaehyun thinks it’s a sign. He moves to greet you, but the doors open again and in walk Yeri and Seulgi. He watches you greet them warmly with wide open arms. 
You always did give the best hugs.
Jaehyun watches the three of you chatter away and he feels acutely out of place in the little cafe. You look happy and he should move on. 
He throws his finished cup in the trash can and moves to exit through the side door, but he moves too slowly.
“Jaehyun, is that you?” You call out. He looks into your steady gaze and almost feels shy. 
“Yeah,” he’s quiet. “It’s been awhile.”
“It has,” you agree. “You look well.”
The smile you give him has him believing in second chances and maybe he’ll get it right this time.
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Note: i am so sorry that the second part is a hot mess express smh… there were a lot of things i planned and intended that didn’t happen, but i’ll just take this as a learning experience and write and better story next time. thanks for taking the time to read this !! <3
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masterlist.
790 notes · View notes
etherrealoblivion · 4 years ago
Text
Drive Me Insane
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Summary: Spencer Reid is always getting on your nerves. Tensions rise and one day, he pulls you into the file room and snaps… just not in the way you think….
A/N: Early-Season-Twelve!Spencer. this is full-on HATE SEX fulfilling this request by @safertokiss and this request by @mggswhore. It’s rough and v sexy and angsty. Gif is mine! Enjoy! <3
tags: smut, penetrative sex, hate sex, enemies to lovers, angry sex.
RATING: EXPLICIT
Words: 4,363
MASTERLIST
~
You fucking hated him! You HATED him!
“REID!” storming out of the elevator, you headed straight for the desk of the asshole who had pulled the worst prank ever. “What the fuck is this?!” you screamed, slamming your coffee cup down on his desk, the beverage slightly spilling onto his work papers.
“Hey!”
“Don’t you fucking ‘hey’ me!” you were trembling with anger, bouncing on the balls of your feet and trying to ignore the people staring around you. “Explain yourself!”
The little cockfuck put on the most innocent expression you’d ever seen him manage. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, more to the onlookers than you. “Is there a problem?”
“Did you put him up to this? Did you tell him to write that?”
“Write what?”
Huh. He actually looked genuinely confused. But you weren’t buying it. You knew how evil he could be, always teasing you, correcting you, moving your stuff around, pulling pranks. If it weren’t for his stupid, pouty face, you’d slap the look right off of it. Oh, and you were coworkers but that was honestly more of an afterthought.
When it came to Spencer Reid, there was nothing that could stop you from exacting your revenge. Except maybe Unit Chief Emily Prentiss. Who, conveniently, hadn’t arrived yet.
“Don’t bullshit me, Reid! You fucking told the barista downstairs to give me some phony number! What’s the joke? I call it and it’s a phone sex line? A suicide hotline? What?!”
But Spencer simply stared at the cup, mouth dropped open and staring at the ten neatly written digits gracing the side of your coffee cup, a little heart to the side of them.
Clearing his throat, he finally spoke, “I didn’t… I didn’t do this, Y/N.”
A refute to that was on the tip of your tongue but he suddenly looked at you and you noticed a slight tint to his cheeks that for some reason, had you believing him.
“Wait…. You mean…?”
“Yep.” He stood suddenly, chair flying out from behind him with the force with which he stood. “Looks like you’ve got an admirer. Excuse me,” he grunted, storming off down the hall, leaving you thoroughly perplexed.
“What…. What just happened?”
Tara approached you, placing a light hand on your shoulder.
“You got a dude’s number and thought it was a prank by Reid. Happens to the best of us.”
Well, yeah, that was rather obvious. You were more referring to the fact that he had stormed off once he came to the same realization.
But, as always, before you could think for too long, Garcia sent out a mass text alerting you to a new case. Your contemplation would have to wait for another time.
~
“Maybe he just didn’t want anyone to see him?”
The team was gathered around a roundtable in the dingy police office of Wamego, Kansas, discussing why the unsub was dumping the bodies so far on the outskirts of town.
“No, that doesn’t make sense,” Reid blurted, gesturing toward a map of the area. “There are more than enough areas to hide a body within the town’s limits. Plus, he dumped in the middle of the day so being seen isn’t his issue, he can hide easily in plain sight. The edge of town somehow connects to his comfort zo…. What?”
He trailed off once he noticed the grumpy look on your face. It wasn’t like you could help it! He was always refuting every little thing you said and constantly interrupting everyone.
“Well, Reid, if he’s so interested in the edge of town, why are all his victims abducted from the town square?”
Spencer stepped closer to you, eyes narrowing and lips turning downward.
“Maybe, Y/N,” he bit back, “he’s not picking these women at random, but targeting those he sees that look so obviously vulnerable. His end goal is to dominate them.”
“Seriously? Alexa Wells was a blue belt in karate and Tala Williams took a regular self-defense class. There was nothing vulnerable about these women at all!”
“If you weren’t so busy fretting over their physical capabilities maybe you would have noticed, they both possess a petite stature, making them more susceptible to attack.”
He was towering over you and staring at you with anger in his eyes. You, too, were having to fight back the urge to scream at him.
“So, what, you’re saying everyone with a small stature is asking to be dominated!”
“Nope, just you.”
He looked more shocked at his words than you did, taking a step back and glancing around the room for a moment before referring back to the map.
“I’m-I’m saying that the-the victims were all-all small—of-of small stature and that’s a-that’s a connection. Excuse me.”
And he bustled out of the room, leaving behind an audience of your coworkers whose gaze fell on you. Uncomfortable with the weight of their eyes on you, you excused yourself as politely as you could despite the anger and confusion rising in your throat. You didn’t return until you managed to compose yourself, and by then, the team had a new lead and Reid’s outburst was forgotten.
But not by you.
~
If the word ‘hate’ was a face, to you, it’d be Reid’s. To be fair, his face did possess a very… slappable quality. But, of course, you’d never act on that impulse. He never could quite push you to that edge. But, oh god, he got close sometimes.
Jesus. It was nearly 6:00 AM and you’d gotten a text about fifteen minutes ago from Garcia, summoning you in. Now, sitting in the briefing room, your thoughts had begun to wander into very vulnerable territory.
“Y/N?”
His voice grated your ears like sandpaper, the perfect tool to snap you out of your reverie. Why the hell did he have to arrive so goddamn early? 
“Yes, Reid?” you replied, putting on the most bored voice you could manage, not even bothering to spare him a glance as he sat down in the seat immediately next to you, shrugging off his shoulder bag.
“Why are you here so early?”
You looked at him, startled by the question. Who the hell was he to ask you that? He came in early all the time and you never bothered him about it.
“None of your business,” you snorted, glancing down at your phone, trying to get back to reading your article. But with Reid in the room, it was hopeless.
“Jeez. Okay. I was just asking a question. You know, when someone is so defensive it actually has a lot to do with their social life. Usually, they aren’t getting enough mental stimulation outside of work and in rare cases, it attributes directly to whether or not they’ve been receiving enough pleasurable intercourse.”
He nodded curtly as he finished, his own gaze dropping to a regular manilla folder, not even taking in your expression of pure shock. He must’ve found your silence startling enough because soon after, he looked up at you, crooking an eyebrow.
“What?” Quickly, his expression shifted to a mix of understanding and his cheeks went red so quickly. “Oh! I wasn’t saying that-that-that you weren’t… that you aren’t… I mean, not that you are… I just mean that….”
“What, you’re saying I’m not getting fucked properly?”
His mouth dropped open just as Rossi and Alvez entered, conversing loudly enough to miss your snarky comment. Clearly, though, they could detect the charged atmosphere in the room.
“Are we interrupting?” Rossi, the bastard, asked coolly, taking a seat as Luke did the same.
“Nope,” you smirked as more of the team entered. “Not at all.”
Although there was a pressing case to focus on, you couldn’t help but glance at Reid a little more often than usual.
~
“Alvez, Lewis, you two talk to the parents. Reid, Y/L/N, go to the BDSM shop and see what they can tell us about the whip.”
The urge to roll your eyes and groan was almost too great. Being in a car with Reid for too long gave you hives and as you typed the address into your phone, you glared at your phone for displaying the time to get there as a whole half hour. In a car. Alone. With Reid.
Strangely enough, it had been about a week or so since he’d made any snarky comments to you, seemingly preferring to keep his distance. You wondered what being stuck in a car together would be like. Hopefully quiet. Silent, ideally.
You really shouldn’t have raised your expectations.
“So, the whip is actually a pretty common item so if he paid with cash, it’s likely there won’t be much of a trail. If you wanna wait in the car, I understand, I can just run in and get the info.”
Huh?
“Why would I wait in the car?” That might’ve been the first genuine question you’d ever asked him excluding when you’d first met and asked his name. Since then, it had been a whirlwind of sarcasm and rhetoric.
“Y/N, it’s a sex shop,” he said, a slight glance over to you as his fingers tightened on the steering wheel slightly.
“And?”
“Well… I mean, you don’t wanna go in there.”
“Says who? Reid, it’s part of the job. I’m not scared of sex like you are.”
That got him stuttering, huffing and puffing, and trying to backtrack so fast he might as well have thrown the car in reverse. But you had arrived before you knew it, settling into an empty spot right in front of the store.
“I-I’m not s-scared of… of… I’m not scared of that!”
Unbuckling your seatbelt, a surge of confidence rushed through you as you exited the car, quickly quipping, “Oh, I can tell judging by how easy it is for you to talk about. It’s okay, Reid. Not everyone can handle dominating someone. Certainly not someone as submissive as yourself.”
As you entered the shop, you could feel his tension next to you the whole time you questioned the woman at the front desk. But there was something… off about it. It was like he wasn’t nervous being in the shop, he had no issue making eye-contact with the witness, speaking calmly and coolly, and not avoiding looking at the various sex toys scattered about. No, he was nervous about something else. Something you had said?
But it wasn’t like you didn’t tease him ruthlessly and regularly anyway. Had you struck a nerve? What was different?
Maybe he just didn’t like talking about sex stuff with you. It made sense, he hated your guts. Still…. There was something.
Something that didn’t get brought back up again until a week later, when the two of you were sitting at your desks during a lunch break with everyone gathered around, conversing quietly. Then Alvez had to go and stir the pot like the little pot-stirrer he was.
“Well, I’d have killed to see how Reid acts in a sex shop. Hey, Y/L/N, please tell me there were lots of dildos,” he joked, earning a laugh from the majority and a groan from Reid.
“Actually, he was much less freaked out than I expected. I assume it’s because he didn’t know what half the stuff in there was.”
Sparing a glance at Reid, you were startled to find he wasn’t looking away in embarrassment, but staring straight at you, glaring daggers.
The laughter bubbling up inside your throat at the teasing immediately subsided, replaced with a sudden rush of… fear? No, that can’t be right. You weren’t scared of Spencer Reid. The guy was harmless. Right?
“Can I talk to you privately, Y/N?” he hadn’t said it like a question you could say no to, rising from his seat and storming off to the file room.
Resistance was futile, and in this case, unnecessary, because whatever Reid had to say to you in that room, you could easily turn against him. Ricocheting his remarks came so naturally sometimes you didn’t even notice you were doing it.
You entered the filing room, fully expecting to see Reid shuffling papers and mumbling, working up the courage to yell at you.
Which is why you didn’t expect to be shoved up against the door as it slammed shut behind you, Reid pinning his hands on either side of your head, holding your faces inches apart. Your breath left and so did the words you’d been rehearsing on the short walk to the small room. You felt your mouth drop open and your gaze unintentionally fell to his lips. It took you a minute to realize he’d been talking. Desperately trying to play back what he’d said, you felt your earlier anger rise back up in your throat.
“What’s your problem with me? Huh?” he was unrelentingly forcing you to meet his eyes. “Why are you always coming after me for the stuff I say? Jesus, you’d think you’d show me a little compassion sometimes, but nooooo. Little miss princess just gets off so good making the team punching bag feel like a piece of shit.”
At his words, you finally found your voice.
“Me? You’re always the one fucking correcting me and bossing me around! You pick fights with me all the goddamn time!”
“Name one time.”
“Hmm, let me see, the time you told Garcia you needed her to hack my phone for a case! The time you fucking told me I was asking to be dominated. Just last week you assumed I didn’t wanna go into a sex shop because, what, I’m too innocent? Or maybe you just want to think of me that way and you hate that it’s not true. Hey, how about the time you pulled me into the file room and pinned me up against the door like a goddamn butterfly?”
You were getting to him, you could tell. His face had slackened but his gaze was much stronger, scrutinizing all of your features carefully.
“You know what else? You’re the only one on the team that calls me by my first name. And I have no idea why! Is it just to bother me or do you actually just not care about giving me any indicators that you respect me? I’ve been a profiler for ten years now and I still can’t read you for shit! You’re so fucking hot and cold you give me freezer burn! Christ, Reid. Sometimes I can’t tell whether you wanna fight me or fuck me!”
Three seconds. That was the time it took you to register that his lips were suddenly on yours, biting and nipping, tongue fighting to get into your mouth.
What the fuck, what the fuck, what the FUCK!
Okay, listen… Normally, if someone you hated with all your heart pressed you up against a door and started to make out with you with the force of a thousand suns, you’d do what any sane person would do; shove them off of you and kick them in the junk. 
But Spencer Reid drove you fucking insane.
So, when you suddenly found your hands grabbing his face and pulling him in closer to you, opening your mouth enough to let him devour you whole, it wasn’t all that much of a rational decision. In fact, a whole series of irrational decisions happened in quick succession. 
He was pressing you against the door so harshly, it felt safe to let your feet leave the ground, legs coiling around his hips and gasping into his mouth as you felt his length brush your inner thigh. Fuck, he was hard. Oh god. The pressure must have caused your mind to really comprehend what in the fuck was happening here. 
Spencer Reid was kissing you up against a wall at work. But that wasn’t even the weird part. The weird part was... you actually liked it.
So, pushing down the thoughts of what a terrible idea this was, your hands gripped the lapel of his suit jacket, frantically pushing it off of his shoulders. As it hit the floor, he groaned, seemingly realizing where you wanted things to go.
He pulled back, tearing open the buttons of your blouse, words falling from his beautifully swollen lips.
“You’re such a goddamn tease. All the time. Wearing these tight little tops and expecting me to not rip it off of you?” he tsked, pulling open the top to reveal your bra, stopping in his tracks at the sight.
He was taking too long. Too fucking long.
Your hands reached for his belt, hurriedly sliding the leather from the strap, snapping it off of his pants and pushing them down.
“Don’t act like you didn’t want this to happen,” you snarked as he picked you up and plopped you down on the small metal table in the center of the room, brushing aside all the papers atop it. Your back hitting the cool metal made you hiss but you went on, “I bet you brought me in here because you knew if we were alone together for more than five seconds, you’d snap. You wanted to fuck me, Reid.”
You were trying to sound like you still had some wits about you, but the truth was, they’d all flown out the window the moment his lips met yours. Those fucking lips.
He didn’t bother denying your claims, opting to roughly pull down your skirt and underwear, one strong hand tightly holding your bare thigh the whole time. Those fucking hands.
“Maybe,” when he spoke again, his voice had dropped two octaves, a register you’d never heard before that sent a flicker of pure delight through your veins, “you’re projecting, Y/N. I think you’ve wanted me to hold you down and fuck you this whole time. You’ve wanted me to shut that pretty little princess mouth up in any and every way possible so you rattle off teases and insults to make up for the fact that you’re just a little whore who is begging to be fucked.”
You heard your moan echo around the room before you even noticed you’d opened your mouth. Quickly, but not quickly enough, his huge hand snapped over your lips, stopping any further sounds from escaping. His other hand dug into his pants pocket and you could hear the crinkle of tin as he rolled on a condom.
All you heard before the world disappeared was, “Shut the fuck up,” as he slid into you in one perfect thrust, his left hand roughly digging into your hip as he grunted with the effort of holding back. But that wasn’t what you wanted. That wasn’t the point of this. And you told him just that.
“Reid,” you groaned through his hand and he relinquished his hold, “fucking fuck me!”
Apparently, you didn’t need to tell him twice.
He didn’t even bother trying to ease you into it, roughly grabbing your hips and pulling you against him with each sharp thrust. It took all you had to keep from screaming as a wonderful mix of pain and pleasure pushed you closer to the edge. Jesus, you were close to coming already after barely a minute.
It was like you said, Spencer Reid drove you fucking insane. 
Still, you weren’t quite ready to submit to him completely. There was still quite a bit of fight left in you.
“I bet you’re loving this. Thinking you’re finally in charge of me. I got news for you, Reid,” grabbing his shoulders, you pulled him down so you could whisper in his ear, relishing in the hiss he emitted at the change in angle. “I’m more than you can handle.”
Saying he went wild would be an understatement. He somehow managed to lift you all the way up off of the table, spin you around, and reenter you sharply within the span of two seconds. This time, you couldn’t stop the pathetic mewl that left your throat at the feeling of him inside of you.
Actually, what probably got you was the horrible, dirty things he was whispering in your ear unrelentingly as he pounded into you, one hand on your hip and the other yanking your hair back roughly.
“You think I don’t know how to handle a spoiled little princess? Tell me, who’s the one moaning and writhing underneath me? Huh? Oh, can you not answer because I’ve got my cock buried in you?” He slipped the hand that was in your hair down to your cheeks, squeezing and forcing them into a pucker. “Answer me.”
You could feel how close you were but his thrusts were so slow and patient now. He wasn’t nearly as close as you were. If you were doing this, you were making him come first. You needed to keep some power. You did decide to relinquish a bit of control to him.
“P-Please, Reid….” you whispered, smiling to yourself as he responded exactly as you’d expected.
“Please, what?”
He was moving so slowly now, barely giving you any relief, slowly pushing in the tip only to pull out hastily, leaving you grinding back on his for more.
“Please… please tell me you don’t actually believe that,” you snarked, pleased with the way he suddenly froze, seemingly not expecting to hear that from you.
Your shock, however, didn’t last long. Because after a very pregnant pause, you heard the rush of air come from behind you. Because you felt a sharp, sudden, stinging pain on your left asscheek. Because Spencer Reid had just fucking spanked you.
“Ahh!” you yelped as the heat flared up your body as he sped up his thrusts, entering you deeper and deeper each time.
“I think someone needs to teach you a lesson about what happens when you mouth off to the wrong person. This,” he added with a particularly sharp thrust, “is your punishment, princess. You actually thought I couldn’t handle dominating a little brat like you? You’re the one begging to be filled up like a little whore.”
“Reid,” you let the name slip, feeling yourself slowly giving in more and more the further he pushed you.
“Say my fucking name, princess.”
“Ah! Spe– fuck! Reid!” you keened, happily letting your body give in to the feeling of being totally and utterly used by him, barely noticing almost calling him his first name.
“Tell me, princess, do you even know how tight your little cunt is bouncing back on my cock? I bet I feel so big inside you. I guess you finally got what you needed: to be fucked properly. You’re lucky that I’m the one to do it. I know just how to handle you.”
You groaned as he snaked a hand around you to circle your clit relentlessly, barely managing enough energy to squeak, “I hate you.”
There was anger behind the words, but not honesty. And Spencer knew. It was clear as he leaned in to whisper in your ear a final time, he also knew exactly how to push you over the edge.
“Prove it.”
And in an instant, your climax hit you, washing over you like a waterfall, feeling your walls clench and tighten around Reid’s cock. Drowning in the pleasure of your orgasm, you didn’t even notice the way he grunted as he spilled himself inside of you.
You definitely didn’t notice the way he planted soft kisses to your shoulder blades as he pulled out, whispering small strings of praise. Or the way he stroked your thigh as he carefully pulled your underwear back up. You definitely didn’t notice that.
You hadn’t quite regained your energy, but you knew you had to stand up. Every muscle in your body, however, begged you to collapse to the floor. Luckily, Spencer caught you, prompting you to look up at him, trying not to show the hope that was so obviously shimmering in your eyes.
Strangely, he seemed to be looking at you in a similar sense. Not exactly hopeful but… worried?
“You okay?”
You nodded weakly, breaking the eye-contact and pulling away from him, scurrying to put your clothes back on.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”
You knew you sounded curt but you just couldn’t bring yourself to express emotion right now. It was stupid, you knew, but in the heat of the moment, you had felt… connected to him. In a purely animalistic way, surely. In a ‘fuck me so hard you impregnate me’ way.
Pushing the fact that that thought got you a little excited to the back of your mind, you turned back to Reid who had also fully redressed. He was shifting on his feet, avoiding looking at you fully. 
“Well, now we know what to do next time we butt heads,” you joked, smiling softly to diffuse the tension.
He laughed but you could tell it was superficial. There was something the two of you weren’t saying and you were both waiting for the other to say first.
“We should probably get back out there, huh?”
“Y-yeah,” he stuttered, coughing and doing a ‘ladies first’ motion towards the door.
“Thanks,” you muttered, opening the door slightly, then glancing back at Reid, seeing him looking at you with the words neither of you would say.
“Hey, Spencer?”
He tried not to let his shock show but he did a horrible job. You couldn’t blame him though, it was the first time you’d ever called him by his first name.
“Y-yeah?”
“I… I don’t hate you.”
It wasn’t much, but he smiled liked it was everything. Maybe, in your own special way, it was.
“I don’t hate you, too.”
Giving him a little nod of your head, there was no way you could suppress the joyous smile that lit up your face as you exited the file room. Your coworkers would surely be suspicious, but you didn’t want to think about that right now. Spencer was the only thing on your mind the whole rest of the day and you were sure he’d stay there well into the week.
After all, Spencer Reid drove you fucking insane. Now, you knew, in more ways than one.
~
TO BE ADDED TO TAGLIST
~
(sorry if the tags aren’t working! i’ve been having some trouble)
@whollytaciturn @101donuts @thegingerfairchild @safertokiss     @cielo1984 @thupidalthea @darkacademiacherry @matthewreid@aloha-ashley-taylor@justchiara-02@spnobsessedmemes @sweet-darlin@dreamy-reid @brokenanxiety @thatsonezesty13 @psychedelic-phase @beautifulalmondstudentduck@awhollandx@baddreamsandbrokenhearts@simp-for-mgg @swagdaddycam@gejatume@url-under-construction@krymson182@addie5264  @pinkdiamond1016 @gublergirls @georgia4287 @thineeminnie @untainted-memories @cm-is-kinda-cool @le-vie-en-amour1 @happyiidiot @wechillingcoop @blankets-for-bees @stewie-castle @dolanfivsosxox
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mercy-burning · 4 years ago
Text
Make It Even
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reaer Summary: Part 2 to Out Of Commission (but can be read separately) - After about a month of recovering from an injury, Reader can finally have sex again, and Spencer has an idea. Category: Smut 18+ (female masturbation, use of a vibrator, dirty talk - degradation with mentions of fingering, hair pulling, and rough sex) Warnings: Sex, language, brief mentions of injury (As always, if there’s anything that I missed, please let me know what I should include in warnings! I always want to be as mindful as I can about what I post. Thank you!) Word Count: 3.3k
***EDITED: 7/25/2021***
PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | MASTERLSIT
***
Being seriously hurt by a serial killer was definitely not fun in any capacity, but the whole thing had been a major learning experience.
For one thing, Y/N learned that she hated hospital checkups. Once a week she had to go, to make sure everything was healing properly. Having Spencer there to make sure everything was going smoothly was extra comforting, though it didn't make constant doctor visits any less tedious.
Secondly, she hated menstruation. Which was a natural, obvious disdain that she'd harbored since the ripe age of eleven, but while being severely injured like she'd been recently, it sucked extra. Not only did she have to deal with menstrual pain and having to be careful not to rip or irritate her stitches every time she cleaned up, but she was also extra horny with no outlet for it.
That one week was probably the worst of it. Spencer wanted to stay with her of course, to bring her the extra comfort, but it was less comforting and more torturous unfortunately. She insisted that he stay at his apartment or at least sleep on the couch, because she didn't know how many more cold showers she could take.
Finally, she learned that her ability to marathon movies was probably one of her strongest assets. Not only did she manage to watch every single Lord of the Rings, Twilight, Harry Potter, Star Wars, and Fast and the Furious movie, but she stayed awake and alert through every one. She tried getting Spencer to pay attention to Twilight, but he did fall asleep, though somehow managed to make it through every Fast and the Furious film. She'd make him re-watch them in time, but right now she was just glad that she could get up and move around like a normal person again.
Speaking of, she was currently waiting for her boyfriend to come back from the store. She'd wanted to go with, but he insisted on getting some surprises, so he went alone.
Y/N was cleaning up her kitchen when the door opened and Spencer walked in, struggling to carry more than four large grocery bags.
"Geez, what did you get? I thought we were just making a pizza..." Y/N laughed, running over to help him carry some of the bags. He handed her the lighter ones, still taking caution of her injuries, and she smiled fondly for it.
"I know," he said, slightly out of breath from the walk. "And I got stuff to make pizza, but there were some other things I wanted to get you."
She was about to open one of the bags to help unload everything, but he stopped her. "No! Don't look at anything. Surprises, remember?"
With a sigh and a small laugh, Y/N stepped away from the bags as Spencer set down the ones he was carrying. "Fine. Where do you want me?"
"Bedroom. I'll come in when I'm done." He walked to her and gave her a big, deep kiss before practically pushing her to the bedroom. "Won't take long, promise."
As she heard him unload the bags in the kitchen through the closed door, Y/N wondered what he could possibly have gotten. Knowing Spencer, it could have been about a million different things. Since they'd started dating, he was always so creative and thoughtful with his 'surprises', and each one had been different every time. And since he knew her so well, probably more than she knew herself, she was certain she was going to love it.
That being said, it was taking way longer than she thought it would.
"Hey, you said it wasn't going to take long!" she called out, crossing her legs and swinging them off the bed after closing Twitter from her phone and setting it on the nightstand. "You didn't get lost in there, did you?"
"No!" Spencer called back. "Almost done!"
She smiled to herself, tapping her fingers against her knees and tilting her head to the side in wait.
About a minute passed when she heard him at the door. "Okay, close your eyes!"
She rolled them affectionately before doing so. "They're closed!"
As she heard the door open, she couldn't help the smile that adorned her face, only growing wider when she felt Spencer pepper sweet kisses along her cheeks before she felt him kneel in front of her on the floor. He took her knees and spread them apart, and she raised her eyebrows, eyes still closed. "What are you doing?"
"Getting in position. Open your eyes."
By the amused tone in his voice alone, Y/N thought she had a pretty good idea of what she might find when she regained sight. Sure enough, when she opened her eyes, she looked down and noticed Spencer kneeling on the floor, head tilted upward to look at her, his hands in his lap and his eyes searching hers with the most adoring gleam she'd ever seen.
She laughed, bringing her hands out to run through his hair. When they cradled his cheeks, he smiled, bringing his hands up from his lap and revealing... A vibrator. She'd never seen it before. He must have bought and sanitized it before coming in the room, which would be why it had taken so long.
"You.. You bought me a vibrator?"
"Mhm," he answered with the giddiest tone she'd ever heard from him. "I really appreciated what you did for me while you were... out of commission... a few weeks ago, so I wanted to return the favor. Kind of. I, uh... I have an idea..."
Y/N took the vibrator from him and turned it over in her hands as he explained himself.
"I know we could start having sex again, but I thought this would be a fun way to ease you into it, plus I get to make it even."
She looked down at him, amused with an eyebrow raised and a small smirk forming on her mouth. "You want to watch me fuck myself with a vibrator?"
Spencer nodded, placing his hands on her knees again. "And we don't even have to have sex afterwards if you don't want. I have extra clothes here, and I'm more than prepared to take a cold shower when you're done."
Laughing, she leaned down and kissed his forehead, right before leaning her own against it. "You're sure?"
"Mhm. Only if you want to, I mean, I thought it would be fun..."
Y/N pulled away and ran a hand through his hair, nodding. "It does sound fun. You gonna talk me through it?"
He nodded and leaned up on his knees a little to reach her lips, kissing her just as deeply as he had in the kitchen earlier. She kissed him back fervently, reveling in the feeling of his tongue against hers and the soft hums he let out whenever their lips slightly parted to kiss each other deeper.
Eventually she pushed his shoulders down and moved her head back, looking down at him with her bottom lip tucked between her teeth briefly before speaking. "Will you take my pants off for me, please?" she inquired sweetly, batting her eyelashes.
If she kept up this sweet act, this was going to be way harder for him than anticipated, and they both knew it. Regardless, he was more than happy to reach up and unbutton her jeans, looking up at her adoringly while he shimmied them down over her thighs and eventually her ankles.
The second he went back to his position on the floor, Y/N flipped the vibrator over in her hands. "What would you like me to do, baby?"
"Put your legs up on my shoulders?"
She draped her ankles over his shoulders and pulled him closer with them, a small smile forming as his eyes practically widened, being so close to her, where he hadn't been in so long. "Don't turn the vibrator on yet," he said softly, his eyes flicking up to meet hers. He turned his head a little and pressed a soft kiss to the inside of her calf before he continued. "I want you to touch it to yourself, just lightly over your panties, okay?"
With a nod, Y/N leaned back on one arm and used the other to bring the toy to her clothed pussy, running it softly over herself as instructed. She sighed, biting her lip as she looked down at Spencer, who was mesmerized by her hand movements. She could feel herself getting visibly wetter as he watched, a soft whine escaping her throat before he looked up at her.
"You feeling it already, baby?" he murmured softly, bringing his arms up to wrap around the underside of her legs and resting his hands on the insides of her thighs. As his fingers drifted softly in lazy circles, she mimicked their movements with the vibrator on her clit, longing desperately for more friction.
"Please," she breathed, so lightly that she was unsure he'd even heard her, even as she looked him dead in the eye as she said it.
For a moment she thought about sliding the vibrator under the fabric anyway, taking the chance that he wouldn't do anything to chastise her for it. Thankfully it didn't have to go that far, because Spencer removed himself completely from her and stood up.
"Lay back against the headboard?" he asked more than demanded.
Y/N didn't even have to think, scooting back and into position. As she did so, he climbed on the bed himself and sat across from her, making himself as comfortable as he could be.
Probably because she was excited to start having sex again, but also because it was just fun to see her boyfriend's reactions to her boldness, she smirked a little, looking him straight in the eye as she slipped her panties off and threw them in his direction. They landed on his shoulder, and he didn't move them, his own giddy grin making an appearance. To give him more of a show, she ran her hands slowly up her legs, spreading them wider with each passing second until they were completely open, revealing everything to him.
The second Spencer's eyes glanced down, she started to move, using her middle finger to run through pussy. She continued this for almost a minute, her boyfriend completely focused on what she was doing, speechless, before almost jolting him with her words.
"You gonna help me out, Doc, or are you just gonna stare?"
He looked back up at her face, and she could see him visibly swallow, his enchantment with her completely endearing. Then he replied.
"God, you're beautiful..." The sweetness in his words, just barely laced with desire made her move a little faster, though not by much. He still seemed to notice, though, because he flashed a grin that disappeared as quickly as it came, right before shifting in his place and continuing with his words. "You have no idea how much I've missed seeing your pretty little pussy..."
She sighed, leaning her head back and circling her clit. She loved hearing him talk, about anything, really, but when he was like this? She couldn't get enough.
"So many nights this past month, it's taken so much out of me, resisting the urge to just sneak my hand up your shorts when we were in bed, watching movies together. To feel you squirm under my touch. I thought about how much I wanted to play with your pussy, sort of like you're doing now..."
Her fingers moved a little faster as she recalled a similar dream she'd had one of those nights. She'd been thinking about sex all day and ended up dreaming about just that—Spencer crawling over her and fingering her, bringing her to the edge over and over again until she finally woke up feeling sore. She'd been moving in her sleep, and it wasn't fun. At all.
But now she could move all she wanted. Listening to her boyfriend talk about doing to her exactly what she'd experienced and dreamed about many times before filled her with the most joy she'd felt in the longest month of her life.
So she reached for the vibrator that she'd set beside her, and replaced her fingers with it, opening her eyes to meet him. He watched her intently with his hands clenching the sheets beneath him. It made her smile, knowing he couldn't do anything about it, and that spurred her on. She hesitated to turn it on, wanting to wait until he started speaking again, maybe when he was in the middle of a sentence, to see if he'd pause or stumble over his words.
As she ran the toy along her clit, she tilted her head to the side and sighed. "Your fingers always feel so good inside me, baby," she said, slipping the vibrator lower and slowly plunging it inside of her. "They're so long and perfect. And you use them so well."
He exhaled, still completely entranced with everything she was saying and doing. Because just as long as she hadn't had any sexual stimulation, he hadn't seen her experience it either, and this was just as exhilarating for him as it was for her.
"Are you trying to kill me?" he asked softly, briefly meeting her eyes.
She laughed a little, giving him the most mischievous look before clicking the vibrator on and slowly moving it in and out of herself. "If you want to call it quits and just fuck me, all you have to do is say so... I don't mind, believe me..."
He genuinely looked like he was contemplating it before shaking his head softly, a hint of sadness flashing in his eyes. "No, I-I promised I'd make it even. I want to watch you."
With that sentiment, Y/N worked the vibrator a little faster, sighing out as she did so. "So... When you do finally fuck me, do you still want to take me from behind?"
"Mhm," Spencer sighed, shifting his position again. "You feel so good that way. So nice and tight. And it's even better when I have your hair in my fingers, hearing you moan for me while I tug on it."
As her one hand worked the vibrator inside and out of her, Y/N moved her other to circle her clit, both of them working together to build up the orgasm that was already starting to come to the surface. After all this time not having any sexual release, she knew this wouldn't take long, even if she tried to take it slow.
She moaned out softly like Spencer described, barely keeping her eyes open enough to see him grip the sheets tighter. His eyes were trained on her movements, barely blinking.
Since she was closer to orgasm than she'd been in months, she closed her eyes before speaking again, hoping that he'd continue talking and knowing that when he did it would finally give her the release she'd so desperately wanted to feel.
"Fuck, baby, yes... I love when you fuck me from behind and pull my hair. It makes me feel like such a bad girl..."
"Oh? So you'd rather I fuck you like a dirty whore than my girlfriend, is that it?"
Her words seemed to have flipped a switch in him, because every one of his was dripping with a deep seduction she'd only ever heard from him a few times. It sent a jolt of electricity through her body as her hands picked up speed, and she brought herself closer to the edge.
"Ohhh, yes," she sighed, her eyes squeezing shut harder as she felt that telltale tension in her lower stomach. She was going to cum any second now. "Please, baby, I want it so bad..."
He spoke loud and clear, knowing exactly what would get her there. "Aw, my poor little slut hasn't been fucked in so long she's desperate to be degraded? Is that what you want? You wanna be fucked so dumb you can't even think?"
Every sensation she was feeling right now really did send her into a state of speechlessness. It was truly magical the way Spencer knew how to control her like that. He knew every trick in the book, every single thing that would make her numb in the best ways possible, and it never got old. All she could manage were sharp breaths and the occasional whimper as she started to experience the first orgasm she'd had in just over a month.
All it took was one word. One demand. One forceful step on the gas pedal that sent her flying off the cliff and into the pool of pleasure below.
"Come."
With a long, drawn-out moan, Y/N held the vibrator as far inside her as she could take it, her other hand working her clit through one of the most blinding orgasms she'd ever experienced by herself. Her head stayed planted firmly against the headboard as her back arched and her toes curled, every muscle in her body tensing. Her vision went white, sparkling like tv static behind closed eyelids as she lit up with pleasure. God, she missed that feeling. Everything was so heavy and light at the same time, even as she came down, her back slumping against the headboard once again and her eyes fluttering open.
Spencer looked at her like she was the only thing he'd ever known, ever had the pleasure to see with his own two eyes.
Seeing how obvious it was that he was trying very hard not to do anything about his own arousal, Y/N clicked the vibrator off and slid it out of herself, smiling weakly at him and trying to catch her breath. "You want a taste?"
She'd never seen him move faster in her life. She laughed softly as he climbed over to her and brought the toy to his lips, looking her deep in the eyes as he took it in his mouth and sucked on it. The pure guttural groan that left his throat sent a chill down her spine, made even more profound when his hand came up to run his fingers through her pussy softly. She jolted forward at the contact, sending the vibrator further into his mouth, to which he groaned again and fluttered his eyes closed.
His fingers gathered more of her arousal as he pulled off the vibrator and opened his eyes again, sitting back just a little. He then brought his fingers away and to his lips, coating them in her arousal like lip balm. He sucked them off quickly before climbing forward and kissing her on the mouth.  
Tasting herself on him was almost as intoxicating as the orgasm itself, Y/N leaning into him and bringing her hands up to comb through his hair after tossing the vibrator to the side. The two of them stayed like that for a long time, making out with each other before they eventually came up for air.
Spencer smiled, leaning his forehead against hers. "You're fucking incredible, you know that?"
She laughed, brushing her nose against his. "You're the one who bought me a vibrator, And helped me get through this injury... I love you, you know."
He sighed into her, pressing another small, sweet kiss to her lips before shifting seemingly rather uncomfortably. "I love you, too. But as much as I love you, I really need to take that cold shower now."
"I'll get our pizza started while you do that," Y/N said with a laugh. "And then, maybe I can finally convince you to watch Twilight with me without falling asleep? At least the first movie?"
Spencer got off the bed and kissed the top of her head with the most doting smile. "Anything you want."
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t-lostinworlds · 4 years ago
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Wish You Didn’t (Peter Parker)
a/n: hello, hello. here’s another angst fic as ‘tradition’ since this is my first ever full peter parker fic so yeah, please be kind alska. this is very fluffy from the start but then it’s all downhill from there lol, hope you enjoy this one <3
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pairing: peter parker x female reader trope/genre: song fic - Wish You Didn’t Love Me by Jake Miller; best friends to...well; fluff and angst summary: You love Peter Parker with all that you have, but somehow, he doesn't find that as a good thing. Despite feeling the same way, to protect you, Peter wish you didn't love him at all. warnings: wholesome cuteness at the start to set you up for heartbreak, brief dark thought from peter, and swearing. word count: 13.9k+ (i mean, what’s new)
masterlist on bio & pinned post
-:-:-:-:-
"Ugh."
Peter looked up from his textbook just in time to see you drop your bag on the table and then plop yourself down on the seat across him in the library. There was a look of pure frustration on your face, his brows furrowing at the sight of the deep frown written on your lips.
"What's up?" Peter asked, twirling his pen in his fingers as he tilted his head at you in concern.
You let out a big sigh, meeting your best friend's gaze with your frown still intact. "I've got a debate coming up tomorrow," you grumbled dejectedly.
The crease between Peter's brows could only deepen at your words.
You were the best on the debate team, always at the ready to take whatever topic it was thrown at you, headstrong. You're always excited to gush to him about what could be your winning argument, what would put the opposing team at a standstill. So, to see you be somewhat upset about an upcoming debate, it was so unlike you.
Maybe because it seemed last minute but by the looks of it, Peter can't help but feel like it was more than that.
"What's it about?" he asked.
You blew out your cheeks, hand coming up to play with the notebook he had on the table before you blurted out,
"Spider-Man: Friend or Foe."
Peter cleared out his throat just as he turned the page of his book to hide it, sitting straighter in his seat, pretending to get back to reading to avoid your gaze.
He didn't tell you.
Years and years of being best friends yet you didn't have an ounce of clue that you were sitting right across the person who was going to be the topic of your debate.
Peter trusts you of course, he trusts you with his life. His reason was simple really: he just didn't want to drag you into it.
Plus, knowing how worried you can get, he just didn't want to put you through all of that, especially on top of all things college and with what's going on in your personal life. He already feels so guilty with the stress he's put May through, he can't bear to see you have that burden too.
And most importantly, Peter just wanted to protect you.
"Still don't see why you're bummed about it," he said with a shrug, gaze running over the text printed on the paper but none of it was going inside his mind.
"I got picked to defend him."
Peter's head shot up at that, eyes narrowing on your seated form as he asked, "Oh, so you think he's a foe?"
"No..." you trailed off, eyes wandering around his slightly messy table littered with notes, textbooks and books, highlighters and everything in between. "Not really."
Closing his book, Peter leaned forward, arms rested on the surface with his full attention now on you. "Care to elaborate?"
You pursed your lips, shifting in your seat as you crossed your arms over your chest. "I mean, he's probably got good intentions but I've read about the Sokovia accords you know," you started, Peter nodding to show you that he was following. "And it's a debate. The other party would do their best to make him out to be a reckless vigilante. I can already think of so many arguments that they'd throw."
"Such as?"
"That he could be doing this for fame and attention, or that he is doing good things but his drive to do them isn't exactly the best. Is it for revenge? Bragging rights or maybe something darker? Another one could be that he's young, careless and naïve. We don't know what he's really capable of superpower wise which means he can probably hurt innocent people in the future.
"Not to mention if he's on the right or wrong side of the law. Who has to pay for the collateral damages that he has caused? Is it right to let him go scot free? I could go on and on and I just," you paused, resting one arm on the table and then placing your head on it as you looked up at your best friend. "I can't really counter those things with full force because I don't really know the dude nor do I have any real, solid facts about him to back up my claim that he's completely on the good side."
"Research hasn't done you good has it?" Peter hummed, a soft smile playing on his lips as his hand came up to poke your cheek, a sweet attempt to try and rid of your frown.
You shook your head no with a deepened pout, taking his hand away from your face with your own free hand as your nimble fingers then played with his absentmindedly.
Peter's heart grew warm at the gesture.
"There's literally nothing on this spider dude aside from blog posts written by fanboys and girls gushing about how amazing he is. Which is never a great source since it's already so biased," you explained.
"What would truly help you aside from research?" he queried, eyes trained on the way you interlock your fingers together and then letting it go only for a second before interlacing them again, letting it go and repeat. It was such an adorable habit of yours, one that Peter has grown so fond of, your touch always delicate and sweet whenever you fidget with his hand.
"An interview I guess? It'd be nice to get to ask him a few questions. Like, it would help to know why I'm on his side. Get a perspective on why he does what he does, you know?" you sighed, eyes fluttering close with your frown still intact. "At least that way, I know I'm defending someone who I know is worth defending."
Peter hummed as he tore his eyes away from your intertwined hands and back on your sprawled out upper-half on the table. He pursed his lips, gaze on the dip and valleys of your beautiful but stressed face. His brain grew at odds the more he took in your deep frown—one he always hates seeing no matter the reason—as he raked his thoughts on what he could possibly do to help without having the trouble of revealing his secret to you.
"But it's genuinely impossible to talk to him—"
"You could send him an email," Peter blurted before he gave himself time to properly process his words. Hell, he didn't even get to weigh the odds and dangers of his proposition. But now that it already slipped out his mouth—
Shit. I don't think this is a good idea...
Your eyes snapped open as you gaped up at him, brows deeply furrowed as you wondered, "Spider-Man...has an email?"
Too late to back out now, Parker.
"Well, all the Avengers do, under Stark Industries to be specific," Peter said in the most nonchalant way he can muster. "Since, you know, Stark tech in their suits, modifications, upgrades, what color they want it as, etcetera, it's how they talk about those stuff."
You abruptly sat up, dropping his hand as you laid both of your palms flat on the table, eyes now twinkling with hope and excitement. "You think he'd actually see it?"
"Yeah, not many people know about it so," he trailed off with a shrug, opening his book again and flicking through the pages.
You leaned forward, trying to catch his gaze as you narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously. "How'd you know?"
Peter scoffed with a shake of his head, never looking away from his book given that you'd notice his lie right off the bat if he does so. "I don't know Y/N, probably because I work there," he pointed out. Well, technically it wasn't a lie, but it wasn't exactly the truth either.
"And you're giving me it?"
He shrugged, finally meeting your gaze. "I don't see why not? As long as you don't share it around or sell it," Peter warned, shooting you playful glare.
"Yes! Oh my—you are the best," you exclaimed excitedly, jumping out of your seat and rounding the table to give him a back hug. "You're a lifesaver Pete, thank you." With one last squeeze, you pulled away and swiftly snatched your bag, feet in a rush as you treaded towards the door.
"Where are you going?" Peter asked bemusedly.
"Sending the email! Hopefully I can talk to him tonight!" you called back to him.
Peter can't help but shake his head at you with a laugh, "I haven't even given you the email!"
"Just send—"
Sssh!
"Oops, sorry," you whispered, finger over your lips as you rushed back to his side with a bright smile. "Just text me it please? Love you," you hummed, hand landing on his shoulder as you leaned down to place a swift but sweet kiss on his cheek.
The skin where your lips once were quickly turned pink, Peter's heart skipping countless beats at that four-letter word, unable to conjure any response the more he thinks about the actual weight of the warmth that's grown in his chest. He's heard you say it to him many times before of course, but despite holding a different meaning—one with friendship laced around it—it never fails to make Peter's heart soar.
Albeit wanting it to mean something else, something more, Peter knows he shouldn't. Always quick to silence his heart on screaming for more given that it wasn't ideal, for your sake. He always reminds himself that he already feels utmost content with what he has with you now, content with the love you make him feel even if it's only to an extent.
It was enough, for your sake.
Nothing but adoration coated his features as his eyes followed your every movement. His heart grew even more when you beamed at him once you pulled away, ruffling his hair playfully before hurrying out of the library, shooting him one last smile and a wave before disappearing from sight.
Peter can't wipe his own grin off his face, just the sight of your beautiful smile and your joyful eyes, easily contagious on his part. But then realization dawned on him and the curve slipped away, replaced by a frown laced with panic as he pulled out his phone to check the time.
"Shit."
He quickly gathered up his things and rushed out of the library, taking the back door out of the building to the nearest alley. Peter had his eyes glued to his screen the whole time as he quickly made a fake but believable enough email before sending it to you.
***
"Heard you were looking for me?"
You let out a yelp, jumping a few inches back as you spun around towards the direction of the voice. A hand flew over your chest the moment your eyes landed on a figure, shock befalling you as you froze. He was squatted down on the ledge of the rooftop of your apartment building, red and blue faint under the night sky. "Oh my—uh, hi," you squeaked, eyes blinking rapidly to see if what you're seeing was actually real.
The wind was blowing cold, your black pants, plain t-shirt and jean jacket doing just enough to minimize it. The sound of the streets of Manhattan was echoing below, very busy but faint due to your distance from the ground, enabling you to still hear his voice loud and clear when he spoke again.
"Hi, I'm Spider-Man," he introduced as he offered you his hand, masked eyes trained on you as you cautiously walked towards him.
"I know. I'm Y/N," you said, hesitantly reaching out to take his hand, the material of his suit rough against your palm as you shook it. You were in absolute awestruck, eyes glowing with wonder as you did nothing but gape at him.
"I know," he said and you can practically hear his smile behind the mask. He gave your hand a squeeze, the odd feeling that coursed through your bones made you tilt your head at him in mere curiosity, brows furrowed in utter confusion. Mr. Spider-Man swiftly cleared out his throat, eyes casted down as he quickly let go of your hand. "It's on your email," he added hastily.
"Oh, yeah," you muttered. A few seconds passed and you just stood there, staring at him like some star struck fan as you rubbed your hands together in both the cold and slight nerves. After a few seconds more, you finally spoke, "Wow, okay, I didn't expect for you to actually show up."
You don't know where to actually begin.
The first thought you had after sending the email was that he'd never actually see it, or if he does, he'll simply ignore it. You had been ready to wait out in the cold for a couple hours, anticipated the letdown to be frank. Yet here he was, the Spider-Man, right in front of you who, amazingly, even arrived right on time.
Spider-Man was making you nervous.
Normally, you have no problem with doing interviews. It is a form of research after all, and being on the debate team, you've done countless of it. But right now feels different.
Maybe it was the fact that he was a fucking superhero. He's someone who has actually done quite a lot and has probably seen and experienced other worldly things just as much if not more. Or maybe it's the fact that you simply don't know where this will go from here.
Will it do well that you'd get to ask proper questions and get answers that would truly help or will he get cocky and rude that this interaction would only end up being a waste of time?
Despite being famous, he was a complete mystery to everyone. The person behind the mask was wholly unknown and that itself makes you very nervous.
With a shrug, he said, "Well, wouldn't pass helping a friend."
"Are you making your voice deep?" you asked, the sound of his voice a little too...computerized for it to be normal.
He nodded. "Voice modulator, it helps keep my secret identity, well, a secret."
"Oh, yeah, figured."
You stayed quiet again after that, arms crossing over your chest as you kept your gaze steady on him, features coated with a mixture of emotions from confusion, amazement, curiosity and everything in between.
He chuckled softly, probably noticing your painfully obvious shyness. "Got questions for me?" he prodded.
You blinked a few times before frantically nodding, recalling how you specifically said in the email that you just wanted to ask a few questions. You then took out your phone, showing him the voice recording app and asked, "Is this okay?"
Spider-Man tilted his head at you with a soft hum.
"Yeah, I trust you with it."
You smiled.
The pressure and nerves turned lighter on your shoulders as you somewhat felt more comfortable...safe around him. And there's just something about the fact that he trusts you that warms your bones. It's like he's certain you only have his best intentions in mind, as if he knows you weren't in this for a selfish gain. It's really comforting in a sense, makes you feel confident that you're on the right track.
It makes you feel good about yourself.
With a soft nod, you hit record, words of curiosity slipping out of your lips soon after. "Those webs, do they come out from you?"
"No, they don't," he chuckled, taking out a vile from his wrist and then handing it to you. "That is what you call web fluid and I make them."
You gingerly took it in your hands, eyes scanning it briefly before you gave it back. "Impressive."
"Thanks. So, the fluid is like the bullets and these right here"—he showed you the black bands on his wrists with his hands open—"Are the web shooters that make me well, shoot webs. Like so," he explained as he pressed the button on his palm, the webs streaming out soon after and snatching an empty can on the far corner before it landed back in his hand.
You pursed your lips with a nod. "So, you can make weapons," you said with a certain tone in your voice that caused him to shift in his place.
"I—uh, no?" he stuttered, placing the can back on the ground loudly and in a not-so-subtle way. "I will never build a nuclear bomb if that's what you're wondering," he rushed when you narrowed your eyes at him in suspicion.
"Didn't say anything about a nuclear bomb," you pointed out with a tilt of your head.
"I-I'm, uh, I didn't—"
"I'm just messing with you," you cut him off with a soft laugh, your nerves diminishing swiftly at how he seemed to be a little shy and awkward but in an endearing way. It makes him appear more human, normal. "You're so tense, just relax."
"Yeah…okay," he breathed out. He turned around to face the city, going from crouching to fully sitting down on the ledge, hands folding on his thighs as he looked at you over his shoulder. He jerked his head, gesturing for you to come closer to which you gladly did.
You leaned on the concrete with soft hum, placing your phone beside his thigh so it was now between you both. You scanned the beautiful city with a content smile, the view never ceasing to amaze you despite seeing it too many times before. The rooftop is your best escape after all. It was nice to be far away from everything, even if it's only for a moment. Nothing but peace coats you whenever you're up here, may it be from the gentle gush of the wind or the bright shine of the moon that spreads throughout the blanket of black sky.
With a sigh, you looked up at the mask man beside you. Flustered was what you came to be when you noticed that he was already staring at your face, the white and black of his eyes looking somewhat soft, and you swear he looked almost as if he's smiling behind the mask. Warmth was quick to coat your body, a stark contrast to the cold breeze as you cleared your throat, causing him to swiftly look away.
"Sorry, I'm just a little nervous," he chuckled shyly, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. "Really want to impress you."
You felt your cheeks heat up, a timid smile growing on your lips as you shrugged. "No need to impress anyone, let alone me," you said. "Just be yourself Spider-Man."
Oh, I truly wish I could just be myself right now Y/N—
"Okay," Peter hummed with a smile.
"Are you sure this is fine?" you asked, gesturing towards your phone in the middle of you two. "I don't want to intrude or make you feel uncomfortable by recording our conversation."
Peter's heart grew warm as his smile widened. Always considerate you are, too kind for your own good. If it was someone else, he probably would've had loads of pictures taken by now. Or maybe even a hidden camera somewhere to catch him at the wrong moment. Many of which would then be posted on the internet to spread like wildfire. Not that he minded the photos and videos but it's off putting sometimes, especially when they churn out not-so-good headlines to match.
"Promise me you won't share or sell it?" he joked, mentally cursing himself soon after once he realized it's the same words he said to you earlier in the library. Although he felt a wash of relief right away when you didn't seem to notice as you only flashed him a sweet smile in return.
"I promise," you hummed, turning to face him as you leaned sideways on the ledge. "What other superpowers do you have?"
"Enhanced abilities such as super strength, I can run fast and heal fast. Dialed up senses meaning I can see, hear, smell and feel things on another level. I'm...sticky, meaning I can climb up walls and stick to stuff like how a spider would. And oh, spider sense," Peter elaborated, watching with amusement as he saw your eyes change from awe, confusion, to impressed and back to confusion.
"Spider sense?"
"I can sense danger and threats when it's coming, like I feel a tingle."
"That's really cool," you hummed, hand rapidly lifting up as you took a fast and big swing towards his shoulder. He caught your fist in his hand way before you could even have the chance to land a punch.
Peter shook his head at you in pure amusement, giving your fist a squeeze before he let it go. "That wasn't so successful now was it?" he chuckled.
"It was worth a try. Just testing the waters to see if it would trigger your 'spidey sense' as you call it," you laughed, quoting the two words with your fingers teasingly.
"It didn't because one, anyone could see that punch from a mile away, and two, I said dangers and threats," he paused, tilting his head at you adoringly. "And you're not really a threat."
"Hey, I can be threatening," you scoffed, chin up with your chest puffed out.
Peter couldn't stop the laugh that escaped his lips. "I'm sure you can. I bet you can handle yourself well, especially with proper training." He took in a deep breath before saying, "But that's not really what I meant."
"What did you mean?
"That I feel safe around you."
"Oh." You blinked at him a few times before you fully broke his gaze, suddenly turning bashful as your eyes watched the busy street below where the cars and people were scurrying about in the cold New York night. Squaring your shoulders, you added, "Well, for what it's worth, I feel safer around you now too."
Peter felt his heart leap out of his chest, a proud smile erupting on his face, gaze dropping on the ground—or lack thereof—shyly as red started to dust his cheeks. "That's worth a lot," he hummed, lifting his head at the same time you did, your eyes locking immediately.
You beamed at him sweetly, shifting on your feet before letting out a breath. "Right, onto a more serious question," you paused, gesturing at the whole of him with your hand. "Why exactly are you doing this?"
"What do you think is the reason why I'm doing what I do?" he asked back, eyes trained on your face for a moment before he looked straight ahead. He can feel your orbs burning a hole on the side of his face, your brows furrowed in a way that Peter could do nothing but grin widely. He always found your thinking face endearing.
"I don't know, could be a lot of things. Could be money, glory, revenge, bragging rights, most likely fame?" you suggested.
Peter shook his head, keeping his gaze on the building across. "If I was doing this for fame, you'd think I would've shown my face by now?"
"Touché."
"But no," he breathed out, eyes now trained on his feet as he swung them aimlessly on the edge of the building. "I just want to help to the best of my abilities. I feel like I was given these powers, me, for a reason. If I'm not going to use it for a good cause then what's the point of having them?" Peter turned to face you, holding your gaze securely, even behind the mask as he continued, "If I'm not going to help out the little guy, even if I can easily do that then, who will? I can't simply watch the world fall apart when I could've done something to prevent it or provided a little bit of help, you know?"
You nodded. "With great power comes great responsibility."
Peter cracked a smile. "Yeah, exactly," he hummed, gaze dropping to stare at his gloved hands, turning it over before clasping it together with a sigh.
"How do you feel about the people who think you're not on the good side? That you have some hidden agenda?"
"I pity them if I'm being honest."
"How so?"
"I mean, if you're at a point in life where you can't accept that someone is helping simply for the sake of helping, then you've must've gone through a lot to not trust easily," Peter started, fingers fidgeting with his web shooters before he met your gaze. "We've been taught to always think that there's an incentive in all that we do. If you give, you have to receive and vice versa. But why can't we simply give and not expect something in return? People are so accustomed to the whole give and take thing that when someone just gives, it feels unfamiliar. That's why they get suspicious. They overthink that surely I'm doing this for something else when there's really no other reason than simply wanting to help.
"I also get it. It's a cruel world we're living in unfortunately where we have to keep one eye open. But I wish people would begin to accept that someone is helping to make the world a better place by simply wanting to have a safe and better place. No hidden agenda whatsoever," he finished, brown orbs catching sight of how your smile grew wider, brighter.
"You're a wise man," you said with an appreciative nod. "With a really good heart too."
"Thanks. I try my best."
"I'd say you've probably lived a life, traveled the world, seen so many new things, been to space," you trailed off, raising a brow at him in question.
"Yeah, you could say that," he chuckled.
"Are you a billionaire? Are you a prince in disguise or maybe a king? Are you a lawyer? Or maybe some kind of mythical being like Thor?" you poked.
Peter laughed, shaking his head as he shrugged. "Nah, I'm just a kid from Queens."
Shit.
Peter you fucking idiot. You absolute dumbass—
"Huh, I've got a best friend who's from Queens," you muttered, voice barely above a whisper but thanks to his enhanced hearing abilities, of course he heard it loud and clear.
Peter bit the insides of his cheek to stop his smile, even though you weren't going to see it anyway since he has a mask on. I know you do. "Come on, I want to show you something," he said aloud instead, standing up to his full height with his hand out for you to take.
You narrowed your eyes at his outstretched palm before you looked up at his masked face. "Are you going to kidnap me now and sell my organs?"
Peter threw his head back with a hearty laugh, the sound ringing in the air as he shook his head at you. "No, I'm going to show you New York from a different angle," he said, smiling widely as he leaned over closer, hand open wide. "Do you trust me?"
"You did not just quote Aladdin," you laughed, taking your phone off the ledge to stop recording before shoving it in your pocket.
Peter shrugged with a sheepish grin. "What if I did?"
You smiled widely at that, placing your hand securely in his and giving it squeeze. "Then yes, I trust you."
Peter hoisted you up on the ledge with ease, both of you now standing side by side on the edge of the building. A small squeak came out of you when you curiously looked down and saw that the ground was actually very far away, your grip on his hand tightening when all you could think of was splat. He chuckled, moving closer to you as he lifted your arm and placed it over his shoulders, your eyes snapping back up to look at his masked face.
"Is this okay?" he hummed, his arm wrapping around your waist strongly once you gave him a nod approval. "Hold tight," Peter said.
"Please don't let me go," you whispered, worry-filled eyes boring into his own while a mixture of both nervousness and excitement coated your features.
"Never."
Peter jumped.
You screamed.
The strong gush of the wind swiftly hit your face, hair whipping around as your grip around him tightened starkly. You felt your stomach churn while you swung in the air, passing one building to another, going high up and then dropping back down in a swooping motion. Your legs wrapped itself around his waist almost instinctively, all in fear of falling to your death.
"This was a bad idea!" you screeched, head buried on the crook of his neck, eyes shut tight ever since your feet left the ledge.
"Open those eyes Y/N! You're missing all the fun!" Peter laughed, giving your waist a reassuring squeeze. He felt you slowly pull your head away from his neck, lids inching open one by one until you finally gawked at the wonderful lights and blaring colors of the city in awe.
Your mouth fell agape the more you took the sight in, the city a blur but somewhat beautiful in its own unique way. You loosened your grip around his shoulder just so you could lift a hand up in the air, a satisfied hum vibrating in your chest as you felt the cold wind brush through your fingertips in the most comforting way.
That's when you let out a gleeful laugh.
Peter felt his heart melt ten times over at the beautiful sound. His cheeks were hurting from grinning ear to ear the more he took in how you're having the best time.
You looked absolutely breathtaking, the city lights casting a glow over your features, eyes holding nothing but pure bliss and wonder with that lovely, bright smile of yours to match.
The city was pretty sure, Peter loves seeing it at night whenever he does his patrol. But you, you were gorgeous, a stunning sight that he could never ever have enough of. You never do fail to make his heart stop, never fail to take his breath away, never fail to make his limbs all weak and Peter found himself falling deeper despite trying his hardest not to.
"This is so cool—no!" you shrieked, eyes wide with fear as you shot high up midair and went free falling for a few horrifying seconds before you landed back into his embrace, slotting right into his chest. Peter laughed as you quickly went to latch onto him, your grip viselike with both arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist. He wrapped an arm around you securely as his other hand held tightly on the web, both of you now face to face as you continued to swing in the air.
You lifted your head up to look at him fully, faces now inches apart as you stared right into each other's eyes. Peter felt his heartbeat quicken when your orbs held a certain spark, as if you could see the actual him right behind the mask. His eyes fell on your lips, slightly parted as you gawked at him. They look really soft, very pretty, inviting.
He gulped.
At that point Peter wasn't sure if he was thankful or annoyed that he was wearing a mask. Because if he wasn't, then he would've already done something he might regret—or not—later on, especially with the consequences that would come with it.
But when you opened your mouth to start to speak, that's when Peter grew even more nervous on what could possibly be running in your thoughts.
Did you figure it out?
You didn't get a chance to say whatever it was you wanted to say when all movements stopped, Peter releasing you from his hold right as you felt your feet touch the ground.
"That was mean," you said once you gently pulled away from him. "You said you wouldn't let me go," you added, adjusting your hair and clothes before you shot him a pout.
"I'm sorry, I got a little distracted," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with a shy chuckle. It was a full on accident, mind preoccupied by all things you that he unconsciously loosened his grip around your waist which in turn, made you slip out of his grasp. "I'll always catch you though."
You pursed your lips at him with a tilt of your head. "If I hadn't known better I'd say you're flirting with me, Spider-Man."
Peter felt the heat rush up to his face in a split second. "I-I'm, uh—"
"Whoa," you cut him off once your eyes landed on the gorgeous city of Manhattan but much farther away and wider as you stood on a much higher building. The tall structures that surrounded the scene seemed like toys with their size, the lights that gleamed looking like little specks of stars floating in the air with the Empire State Building right at the middle of it all. "I haven't seen it this high up before," you said, giving him a swift glance before your eyes were back on the scenery. "It's really beautiful."
"Yeah, very beautiful," Peter sighed, brown orbs never leaving your features, his heart thumping in his chest, loud and fast, each beat all for you.
He walked over to where you were stood until your arms were brushing against each other. You spared him a glance, your smile wide and soft in a way that made his heart grow warm. But then you leaned your head on his shoulder and Peter swore he might as well die from a heart attack. If it were you with the enhanced senses, then you would probably catch him out quickly with how frantic and loud each beat his heart was making.
It wasn't new to him of course. You've always been the affectionate kind. And being your best friend, he's always at the receiving end of those affections.
But tonight feels a little different.
The fact that you feel safe around him without having to see his face, when all you see is Spider-Man, it makes his heart melt. The simple fact that you're comfortable when you're near him, that you can feel that you can trust him is really reassuring in a sense. It's like your heart is already familiar with who he is despite your brain—or your eyes—telling you that the person you're standing with right now is a complete stranger.
It feels really special when looking at it in that perspective, it makes Peter feel special.
Sudden boldness coursing through his bones, Peter snaked an arm around your shoulder with a gentle squeeze in the process. It took every ounce of his superhuman strength to keep his legs upright when you inched closer to his side, a soft breath coming out of you, a satisfied one. His eyes glowed with utmost adoration as it traced your features, from the soft smile playing on your lips to the twinkle in those irises as you kept your gaze on the stunning city in front. It baffles him how his heart quickened it's pace even more, just the sight of you in pure bliss. God he was so in love with you and you don't even have an ounce of clue.
Just say it out loud, tell her.
No, I can't. For her, I can't.
"It's getting late. I should probably head back home," you hummed, lifting your head off his shoulder to look at him. Peter nodded, arm dropping to your waist as he crouched down a little, just so you could sling an arm around his shoulder. "No dropping me this time," you warned, narrowing your eyes at him teasingly.
Peter laughed with a nod. "Yes ma'am."
The swing back to your apartment building took no time.
Despite wanting to drag the night out a little longer, Peter knew he can't do that to you when your debate was tomorrow, especially among countless papers and homework he knows you need to get to. Plus, he has his own errands he needs to tend to as well. Both of you landed on the ledge smoothly with you laughing at some bad joke he made. Peter helped you down like the gentle man that he is and giving your hand one last squeeze before he lets it go.
"Thank you for tonight," you said as you turned to his figure that remained standing on the ledge. Nothing but a wide, genuine smile played on your lips as you added, "Everything of tonight."
"Don't mention it," Peter said sweetly. "I had a really great time with you—shit. I hope that doesn't sound creepy or anything but I really did enjoy tonight, you know, our conversation, getting close with you and feeling you close to me while we were swinging...okay, I'll stop talking."
You let out the sweetest giggle that Peter could do nothing but swoon, his eyes softening as he tilted his head at you with the most adoring smile he could ever have the pleasure of wearing.
"I had a great time being close with you, too," you hummed, holding his gaze for a moment before you casted your eyes at the ground shyly. Shifting from your heels and toes, you pointed towards the rooftop door, before timidly meeting his eyes again. "I should probably—"
"Yeah, yeah, of course," Peter chuckled, shooting you a curt nod. "Goodnight, Y/N."
"Goodnight, Spider-Man," you said, swiftly turning around as you went towards the door, giving him one last glance over your shoulder when you pulled it open. He gave you a wave in response, your smile widening before you slipped inside and closed the door right behind you.
Peter had the stupidest, most shit-eating grin on his face that he don't think he could ever wipe off, eyes fluttering close as he spread his arms wide. With a satisfied breath, he slowly leaned backwards, letting gravity take its course as pure euphoria coated every fiber of his being.
Never has he ever felt such joy, freedom and utmost content as Peter lets himself fall.
***
"Hello there."
Peter looked up from his notes only to be met by a set of green eyes, completely taking him by surprise since it wasn't the pair of orbs he was expecting—and really excited—to see. It confused him to the core as to why one of the most popular girls on campus was sitting down right in front of him in the library.
"Hi?" he said, word coming out more as a question than a statement as he furrowed his brows.
"Peter right? Marjorie," she introduced, hand coming across the table to which he shook gingerly.
"Yeah, that's me." Peter smiled shyly, the crease on his forehead deepening the more he raked his brain as to why she's talking to him in the first place. Of course he knows who she is, the whole school does. Hell, he can already hear the whispers of gossip echoing about all because she's sitting right at his table, or as a matter of fact, simply because she's in the room. That's how big of a deal she is.
Marjorie moved forward, both her arms resting on the table with her bust right on top of it, the low cut top she wore doing so little to hide it, cleavage right up his face. Peter was quick to look away with a clear of his throat, eyes trained on his notes as a blush coated his cheeks.
She suddenly brought two fingers under his chin, prompting him to look back up. "Look me in the eyes when I'm talking to you pretty boy," she purred, a sly smirk growing on her lips when his blush deepened. She inched closer until she was fully leaning over the table and into his space, her thumb running across his chin teasingly. Peter's eyes grew wide in downright surprise and confusion, keeping his gaze locked with hers and never looking anywhere else—mostly not looking down—as he swallowed the lump in his throat. "Anyway, I heard you're really smart and I happen to find you really cute too. Not just a pretty face, aren't you Peter. So, I was wondering—"
Peter could feel you coming, hear you even, that all too familiar sound of your giddy and specifically patterned footsteps ringing in his ears. And dare he say it, he could smell your shampoo, the scent gradually growing stronger which was a clear indication that you were getting closer to the library.
He was left downright confused when you only stopped at the door, your heartbeat quickening by a mile as you stilled. Peter grew worried at the uneven sound of your breathing, all shallow and labored, the first thing that happens whenever you're in slight panic. He removed his eyes briefly from the girl across him only to see you turn on your heel in one swift motion and then completely disappearing from sight.
What was wrong? Where were you going?
"I, uh, I'm really sorry but I need to go." Peter quickly pulled his face away from Marjorie's hand, standing up from his seat all while shoving his things in his backpack. "I-It was nice meeting you," he said with a small smile before he sprinted towards the door.
He didn't see you anywhere near the building, didn't see you anywhere on campus at all.
It worried him even more when you ignored his texts and calls for the rest of the day. He knew your schedule but somehow, the moment he reached your class, you were already gone. Or maybe you hadn't even attended class in the first place. There was no other way of him knowing your whereabouts and he was growing really concerned by the second as to what had happened. So, he went with the last option he could think of on finding you quicker.
Peter slipped his mask on with a sigh, the sun already going down when he decided to try and pay you a visit in a very different set of clothes.
***
"Hi."
"What the fu—" You jumped with a yelp as you swiftly turned to face him, hand over your chest to try and calm your heart as you gaped at his masked face. "What are you doing here?"
Three times he's passed your apartment building and you weren't home. But by the fourth try, Peter's worry could only grow some more when he saw you out on the rooftop. You never stay out on the rooftop unless something was deeply bothering you.
"Wanted to know how the debate went," Peter reasoned, not the main agenda but it wasn't entirely a lie either.
"Well, my team won so that's great," you sighed dejectedly, leaning down to rest your elbow on the ledge while your chin landed on your palm.
"You don't seem enthusiastic? You still don't think I'm a friend?"
"No, no, I do now. It's just things in here." You tapped your temple, letting out another sigh when you brought your finger down to your chest, right where your heart is supposed to be and added, "Or in here rather."
Peter frowned. "What's up?"
"Who knew Spider-Man was into gossip," you teased, turning to flash him a small smile.
"Just curios," he hummed with a casual shrugged, settling himself down on the ledge, facing you this time around. "Besides, it's always better to let it out."
"It's just boy problems," you breathed out, eyes back on the orange tinted sky.
Peter felt a lump grow in his throat, heart sinking to his stomach at the thought of you thinking about another guy. He was quick to scold himself, telling his mind not to be selfish as he cleared his throat.
"Hit me."
"Well, there's this boy I like—" you stopped yourself, lips pursed as you started to fidget with your fingers, thinking face that Peter knows so well now in full play. "Actually no, I've been in love with him for as long as I can remember," you admitted.
The ache in Peter's heart grew sharper, painful and overwhelming that he felt his body run cold. His throat grew dry that he could do nothing but nod his head with a hum to tell you he's still following.
"He's amazing, greatest guy I've ever had the pleasure of knowing and he has never failed to show that he cares about me. He's always there for me, whenever he can anyway with his hectic life. And he makes me really happy." A love-struck smile grew on your lips, eyes glowing with adoration, face holding that look of love as you bask in the sunset. The golden glow made you look even more stunning, but Peter wasn't able to fully appreciate your beauty when his mind was too preoccupied with jealous thoughts. But a second later, the joy that's coated your features slowly faded off, now replaced by one with worry.
Peter tried his best to keep his tone steady. Despite having the voice modulator on, he knows it will pick up even the slightest shake and uncertainty. "But?"
"I truly can't figure out if he's acting the way he is because he feels the same way or all of it is just an act of friendship," you paused, taking in a deep breath as you shifted on your feet. "There are moments where I do think it's more but then there are moments where I see him with another girl and I start questioning it again. Like, am I reading things wrong? Am I getting too ahead of myself by thinking he could possibly feel the same way?" You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration. "I don't even know how to convey my own feelings—"
"You could just tell him," Peter blurted to cut you off, not wanting to hear any more as the piercing pain in his chest could only deepen the more you talk about it. He's already got the drift anyway, no need for you to explain any further.
You turned to look at him fully with furrowed brows. "Just like that?"
Peter nodded. "You are an amazing girl Y/N," he said, nothing but utmost sincerity coating his voice. He just wants you to find someone who's going to make you happy and treat you the way you deserve to be treated. It seems like you've found exactly that, who was he to take that away from you by being bitter? Besides, Peter has long accepted that that someone is never going to be him. "Whoever this guy you're in love with, he's pretty lucky. If he doesn't see that then it's his loss. And if he doesn't feel the same way, then he's not the right guy for you because you deserve someone who'll love you unconditionally."
"You giving out relationship advice now too? A sideline if you're not saving the world?" you joked, only earning a shrug and a soft laugh from him. "But thank you." You flashed him a small but grateful smile.
"Always happy to help," he said. "I better get going, got a city to look after." Peter forced a smile, a useless tactic given that there was no way for you to see it anyway. He stood up to his full height before adding, "Congrats on the debate." He didn't even wait for a response when he swiftly jumped and swung as far away from your building as possible.
The second he landed on top of an abandoned warehouse, Peter immediately pulled his mask off. He couldn’t bear to leave it on a second longer or else he was going to suffocate. Sharp breaths escaped him as his back hit the brick wall, eyes screwed shut to stop any tear from slipping out of his burning eyes. He tried his hardest to calm his frantic heart, to minimize the pain by shoving his selfish thoughts away. He forced himself to think about you and your well-being instead, tried to convince himself that this was a good thing.
He doesn't doubt that this guy you're smitten with is a great one. The way you speak about him just screams it. Add that to you being great at judging character, then he knows you're in good hands. Despite it hurting like a ton of punches in the chest, Peter still hoped that whoever this guy is, he'll catch you in his arms openly and shower you with the truest love because you deserve nothing but. The pain would be worth it if he gets to see you be happy.
Peter knows that whoever this guy is, he would treat you rightly, give you everything you want and need in a way that Peter never could.
Slowly opening his eyes, he lets out a calming breath, mind slowly slipping at ease the more he thinks about how happy, content and safe you'll be with this guy if ever it will work out.
It hurts, unbearably, but his sliver of pain in exchange for your utmost happiness? Then Peter will gladly endure it.
***
The next day, Saturday noon, was when you finally decided to answer Peter's texts from the day before. You apologized for ghosting him, said you got preoccupied and left it at that. And then you asked if he wanted to go for a little stroll in the park, too make it up to him. Peter could never say no to you so here you were, side by side under the afternoon sun, aimlessly walking around a nearly deserted park outskirts of the main city.
"Why'd you disappear yesterday?" he asked, both his hands in his pockets while yours were looped in his. "I saw you stop by at the library but you didn't come and say hi."
You shrugged, eyes trained on the pavement as you kicked at the few rocks that were lying around. "Something came up," you simply said.
Peter can't help but feel a little sting when you didn't elaborate further. Well, he already knew what had happened but that was as Spider-Man. He was hoping you'd tell him too, as Peter Parker, your long time best friend.
"Thank you for the email by the way," you spoke again when he stayed quiet, lifting your head up to spare him a bright smile. "We wouldn't have won the debate if it wasn't for you."
"Winning the debate was all on you and that incredible brain of yours. I'm not going to take credit for that," he chuckled as he shot you a knowing look. Eyes back in front, Peter added, "But I'm always here to help. That's what best friends are for."
You hummed, letting go of his arm as you skipped ahead and treaded towards the nearest tree. "What's up with you and Marjorie?" you asked, settling down on the grass, legs straight with your right ankle over you left as you leaned back against the trunk comfortably.
"What's up with what?" Peter followed you with a deep crease between his brows, sitting right beside you soon after, mirroring your position under the shade.
"You tell me, you were almost kissing when I saw you in the library so," you trailed off, picking at the shreds of greenery, throwing it purposelessly as you still avoided his gaze. "Are you two a thing now?"
Peter shook his head with a roll of his eyes. "First off, we were not almost kissing and second, no, we're not a thing," he clarified, head turned for him to see you clearly. "I didn't even get to hear what she wanted because I immediately left," he chuckled.
Your eyes snapped up to meet his. "You bailed on her in the library?"
"Sort of?" Peter scrunched his nose.
"That's a very bold move, Parker," you giggled, bumping your shoulder with his teasingly. "Most guys would've died to just be in the same room as her."
Peter let out a hearty laugh, shrugging his shoulders and said, "Well, I guess I'm not like most guys."
Marjorie was pretty, Peter won't deny that, but she could never amount to you. Even right now, when you're just sitting beside him in casual jeans and sweater, a simple but very charming smile on your lips as you looked up at the clouds, Peter was already swooning ten times over. Then comes the memory of you looking so breathtaking while he took you around the city. The stunning glow on your face as you stared at the scene in awe was still deeply engraved in Peter's mind, and he knows for a fact that that image will never leave him. Not that he was complaining anyway.
"So, how did your meeting with Spider-Man go?" he asked after a few moments of silence. A shy smile slowly grew on your lips, one that made Peter lift a brow at you in suspicion.
"He's really cool," you breathed out, your grin growing wider as you kept your gaze steadily trained at the blue sky. "He's a gentleman too, a little shy and awkward but in a cute way. Plus, very wise and smart, like lived-a-life wise and genius smart. He then took me to swing around the city which was awesome," you gushed, a dreamy glow coating your face as you met Peter's eyes. "That night is going to be a night I'll remember for the rest of my life for sure."
Peter couldn't help the smug grin that grew on his face. "If I hadn't known better I'd say you have a crush on Spider-Man," he teased, wriggling his brows at you.
"Shut up," you scoffed with a roll of your eyes.
"It's obvious. You have that dreamy look on your face when you talk about him," he poked even more, nudging you with his elbow playfully.
"No, I don't," you laughed as you pushed him away. "Besides, I've got my eyes on someone else already."
Peter's heart sunk.
He found himself playing with the sleeves of his hoodie as he avoided your gaze, trying his hardest to keep his feelings at bay before you'd notice the change in his demeanor. "Care to share with your best friend?" he offered, wondering if you're finally willing to tell him about this mystery guy.
You stayed quiet, eyes fluttering close as you rested your head on his shoulder. Peter kept his gaze steady on you, everything else silent aside from the sound of the rustling leaves of the tree. But then you let out a nervous breath, heartbeat picking up the pace in a way that made Peter grow curious as to what's on your mind.
"I love you," you blurted out of the blue, a slight shake in your voice as you kept your eyes shut.
Although confused, Peter responded, "I love you too—"
"No, Peter," you paused, shifting in your place, pulling away from him as you sat up straighter. You finally met his brown orbs, all while countless of emotions swam in yours. "I love you," you whispered but with your voice firm and laced with pure sincerity, eyes holding his with such intensity that he quickly understood.
Peter stared at you in shock.
Slowly, but surely, everything started to click inside his head. The confession you shared with Spider-Man. When you said you'd seen this guy with another girl...the library. Was that why you quickly ran out? When you saw...almost kissing. Was that the reason why your heart suddenly grew at panic?
The guy you were gushing about so fondly, the same one you said you were in love with for a long time now, the one Peter was growing jealous of...it was him.
You were talking about him, Peter Parker.
He grew at a loss for words as he gawked at you, a smile growing on his lips as he felt his heart stop its course and then beat again but with twice the pace. Peter was so happy, over the universe as pure warmth filled him up from head to toe. The mere thought that you felt the same, it was too good to be true. But it was, he can see it clear in your eyes, it was real.
You love him.
But then his mood was quick to shift, smile slipping off his face, the warmth and joy that coated his bones replaced by fear and worry in a snap of a finger.
Peter's heart stopped at the sight in front of him.
You were getting held at knifepoint by the throat, tears brimming in your eyes, more of it coating your cheeks as you clawed at the arm that trapped you in their vise hold.
"P-Peter, I love you," you whimpered, gaze locking with his, hope slipping out of your orbs, the glow they once held getting dimmer by the second in a way that made a shiver run down his spine. Then Peter heard it, that piercing cackle he knew too well, his brown eyes meeting the yellow ones that glowed right behind you.
"You won't be able to save the love of your life, Spider-Man...or should I say, Peter Parker!"
Peter shook his head frantically as he yelled out your name, running at full speed to get to you only to be met by sudden darkness, your heart wrenching scream ringing in his ears followed by an agonizing sound of a body hitting the floor. Peter's blood ran cold as he frantically called out your name, over and over and over yet nothing but eerie silence echoed back at him.
And then he looked down, eyes landing on his trembling hands, each finger, both palms coated with blood, your blood.
You were gone.
"No, no, no," Peter rushed, voice quivering, hastily getting up on his feet as he looked at you worryingly. "You can't, Y/N. You can't love me."
It's not safe for you to love me.
The look of pure pain that ghosted over you features squeezed at Peter's heart, the pit in his stomach ever growing the more he thought of what he was about to do.
You stood up shakily to be level with him, deep frown on your lips, confusion and hurt swimming in your eyes as you asked, "Why'd you seem disgusted? You could just say you don't feel the same way."
"N-No, it's not that, neither of that because—" he sucked in a sharp breath, a hand running through his hair as he stared into your eyes longingly. "I do feel the same way about you."
You screwed your eyes shut as you shook your head. "Please don't lie to make me feel better, Peter," you pleaded, the break in your voice a sharp stab at his chest.
"When have I ever lied to you?" Peter internally winced at his bold and very false claim. Nothing but guilt filled his stomach given that he lies to you almost every day. He lies to you about his whereabouts, lies to you about his reasons. Peter lies to you every goddamn day by not telling you he's Spider-Man.
"Then why are your actions speaking something else then?" You gestured towards him as a whole, at the obvious distance that he's put between you two. Your eyes were slowly glossing up as you tried to simply understand what was going on.
Peter sighed, "I just don't want to hurt you okay? I—I don't want you to lose faith on the things you love because of me."
I don't want you to lose your life because of me.
"You're not making any sense," you said frustratedly.
"I'm not qualified to be a good boyfriend, Y/N. I won't be there with you all the time. I'd probably cancel on you on so many dates," Peter paused, meeting your eyes so you could see where he was coming from. "Hell, how many times have I bailed on you right now as your best friend huh? The amount of times I've left you on the street to go home alone?"
Your frown deepened as you held his eyes with nothing but sadness. "You had things going on Peter. You're being really unfair on yourself," you said.
"But you still don't deserve to be treated like that. Not now, not ever, no matter the reason," he pushed. "You deserve all those romantic clichés you're always dreaming of, you deserve to be treated like the queen that you are. You deserve the whole world Y/N, but I won't be able to give you that." Peter's voice broke, eyes holding too many emotions as he kept his gaze steady with yours. A painful task with all the pain and betrayal that's coated your eyes, utmost hurt glaring right at him. "Being with me won't be a fairytale."
Peter wasn't ignorant to the fact that you were a hopeless romantic. The countless rom-coms you've watched together have long ago proved that. The specific look in your eyes, that certain glimmer that washes over your face whenever the couple would kiss under the snow or even in the rain, or whenever they'd go on romantic walks on the beach or simply be in each other's arm whenever it's needed, Peter has memorized it. The little changes in your face whenever you see those clichés, he knows it like the back of his hand, knows how you're craving that kind of simple but true love.
But Peter can't give you any of that. Not right now.
"But I don't want a fairytale. I want to be with you. I don't care if we don't get to do any romantic clichés, being with you would surpass all of that, being with you would be more than enough. And I'm willing to try and make it work with whatever you've got going on, even if I have to make sacrifices in the process. Why can't you see that Peter?" you argued, hands clenched into fists on your sides in mere frustration.
Peter winced, the word sacrifice too heavy for him to hear. It was too painful to even fathom what you would possibly sacrifice for him, that you would probably even sacrifice all of it for him, including your life.
"No, no, please don't," he begged. "I don't want you to sacrifice anything for me. I would never want you to sacrifice those little things that make you smile. I don't want you to sacrifice your happiness for me." Peter shook his head in utter distress, palm rubbing at his face harshly that had the tip of his nose turn red. "And what happens then if it doesn't work? You'll only get disappointed. You'll only end up hating me. By then, I would have already put you through so much hurt all for nothing. I don't want that for you, Y/N."
"How'd you know that when you haven't even tried?" you whispered, bottom lip trembling. "It's like you're not even willing to try," you whimpered.
The second Peter saw the single tear that ran down your cheek he instinctively moved closer, hands reaching out, desperate to hold you, to get to tell you it's going to be alright, to apologize over and over for all the pain he has caused. But you stopped him with the palm of your hand. He felt his heart drop the moment you took a step back, shaking your head, bottom lip desperately caught between your teeth to silence your sobs.
Peter nodded gravely, his arms falling limp by his sides, fully understanding that you don't want him near. He doesn't blame you by one bit. "It's not that I'm not willing to, I just," he paused as he let out a shaky breath. "I don't trust myself to be with you. I don't trust myself with your heart because I know I will only end up breaking it. I'll only let you down." I don't trust myself to keep you safe from harm. I'll only fail you just like how I failed them. Peter confessed, brown orbs turning glossy, all from a mixture of pain and anger. He was so angry at himself for putting you through all this hurt, you don't deserve it, not even a single ounce of it.
Yes, he can try, see where this will go and do his best to be there for you at all times. But that's not set on stone, never a clear promise because he doesn't know what his tomorrow is going to bring. He doesn't know if he's staying in the neighborhood one minute and then entering another dimension the next. Being Spider-Man, he doesn't have a schedule where Peter can organize things as a matter of priority, being Spider-Man requires its own sets of sacrifices. Peter doesn't want you to feel the burden of those sacrifices, too.
He doesn't doubt that you would be understanding enough with whatever it is he has going on but that's exactly the problem. He knows you'll take the bare minimum, you'll put him first above your wants and needs. You're just too kind that way, too big of a heart. But Peter can't have that because it's just not right; it's not what you should settle for. You deserve all the dates, all the romantic walks, all the cuddles and kisses whenever you're down, all the stress free nights where you don't have to worry about him or wait for him to come back to you safe and unharmed, all the time and effort, you deserve all of it and more.
And right now, Peter can't give you what you deserve.
"Or maybe you just don't love me in the way you say you do," you accused, voice soft but the sting in it sharp.
"That's not fucking true because I love you with every ounce of my being," he protested in low growl, desperately tugging at his hair, frustrated that he can't tell you his full reasons as to why exactly he can't be with you. "I love you too much and I want to be with you so badly—"
"Then why is that not enough?" you stressed.
"You don't understand—"
"Then make me understand!" you snapped, tears running freely down your face as you looked at him with utmost despair.
"It's not that fucking simple Y/N!" Peter saw you flinch at the sudden boom of his voice, his heart cracking at the sight. He felt everything in him gradually break the more you stared at him with nothing but anguish. He took in a deep breath to calm himself before he slips out any words that he'll only regret later on. Blowing out his cheeks, he croaked, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just—"
Peter tried again and walked closer to you, trembling hands slowly reaching in mere need to feel your skin on his to ground him back, relief washing over him when you let him. He felt his heart warm up a little when you didn't pull away from his touch. But the broken sob you let out when he cupped your face, it was too excruciating for him to hear. The agonizing grip on Peter's heart tightened as he stared right into your eyes, the same ones that once held so much joy but was now flooded with tears and grief, their gorgeous glow snuffed out, all because of him.
"I'm just trying to protect you, please, trust me on that," he whispered, not even trying to hide the brokenness in his voice anymore, not even trying to hold back his tears as Peter pressed his forehead against yours.
The little droplets fell down on your face, his tears joining yours on your already damp skin. His thumb oh so tenderly tried to wipe them all away, wishing that it was as easy as that to ease up your pain, to take away your hurt so simply, but he knows it wasn't. It wasn't an easy choice and Peter knows it never will be.
"I love you so much, don't you ever, ever doubt that. B-But we can't. I'm really sorry Y/N, but we can't be together. I-I know this hurts right now, trust me, I know, but I will only make it much worse," he choked, shaking his head when you leaned into his palm with a broken breath. But you kept your eyes open, held his gaze with utter strength and Peter saw it, saw how you still looked at him with love in your eyes. Despite it being mixed with pain, it was there, clear and honest. God he did not fucking deserve you at all.
"You deserve someone who'd treat you the way you deserve to be treated, someone who'd truly show you how it feels to be loved completely and not just the bare minimum. You deserve someone who'd be so much better than me." Peter's voice broke at the end of his sentence, eyes still holding yours just so you could see the other things he can't put into words, the things he couldn't say aloud. He was desperately, silently pleading that you would see right through him, so you could understand why he has to do this. "Maybe in another life, we could make this work. But right now I'm asking, begging you not to love me, because I don't deserve that love, I don't deserve you at all."
Peter practically saw your heart shatter into pieces even more with the simple look in your eyes. It's an absolute torture to look into them right now, to see you be so broken that he found himself wishing that it was only him in pain instead. Even though the thought hurts, he wished you didn't love him. Even though it would be painful to endure, to live in a world where his feelings aren't reciprocated, Peter wished you didn't love him at all if it meant it was going to save you from heartbreak.
Better him in pain than you, always.
Breath unsteady, you closed your eyes with a small nod. "I guess this is it," you sniffled, placing your hands over his, your touch tender as you gave it a squeeze. But then you pulled it away from your face, Peter's hands slipping off your skin as you put some much needed distance between you two.
"Y/N—"
"I don't think we can go back to the way things were after this Peter. I'm sorry I just—I don't think I can handle it." You shook your head with a soft cry, forcing yourself to look back into those brown orbs as you whispered, "I can’t take it."
Peter pressed his lips into a thin line, eyes casted on the grass with a solemn nod as he croaked out, "Then I guess this is it."
"Goodbye, Peter."
He screwed his eyes shut at the sound of your broken voice, the heartbreaking sob that followed soon after made him let out a shaky breath. The sound of your footsteps felt like gunshots, each step taken like a bullet wounding him deep but Peter didn't dare to respond, didn't even dare to look up as you briskly walked away.
Peter had to keep his head down because he didn't have enough strength, didn't have the sense of control to stay still in his place. He knows that if he does as much as look up and catch your figure, he'll run after you, full speed. He'll pull you back into his arms; he'll pour all his love into one kiss as he holds you tightly. He'll keep you in his embrace for eternity the moment he gives in into his selfish needs. But he shouldn't. He needs to let you go, he has to let you walk away, for your sake.
The farther the sound of your footsteps got, the tighter his fists grew, fingernails digging into his palms as his breathing became labored, harsh. Peter swiftly turned around and took a hard swing at the tree once you were gone, glad that no one was around to see the whole thing shake from his strength. The bark cracked under his knuckle, leaves falling around him just as his knees gave out. A sharp, broken, frustrated scream escaped his lips as he buried his face in his hands, body shaking with all the anger and pain, trembling from his heart wrenching sobs.
Peter felt like his lungs were about to give out, emotions overflowing and scorching all while feeling numb just the same. But he kept reminding himself why he's doing this for him to get by, kept telling himself that being far apart was for the best.
For your sake.
***
The wind was cold on your face as you stood out on the rooftop to escape. The night breeze was slowly drying up your tears, much to no use since it's replaced by fresh ones the second after anyway. You don't know how long you've been crying for, but it wouldn't really matter. Your tears could run out but the pain in your heart could only deepen with each ticking second.
You were worried, angry, hurt, frustrated and confused all the same, unable to tie everything together as it all just seemed like a whole jumbled mess in your head, an incomplete puzzle.
You're not naïve to think that there wasn't more to this than he's letting on. You know he was hiding bits and pieces, his words completely restrained. You saw it in his eyes how he was battling his mind. You saw how he was struggling to not slip out whatever it was he was holding back. It was painful, all of it, from seeing him so distressed to him breaking your heart with his care-filled yet hurtful words.
You get where he's coming from, about wanting you to experience it all and more and not just the bare minimum. If it was a different circumstance, the things he said would've been sweet, how he wants you to have the world, how he wants you to live all those clichés just so he could see you smile, see you be happy. But right now, his words just felt bittersweet since you lost him in the process.
All those days of imagining all the different scenarios on what it would look like, how it would feel when he admits he feels the same way, not once did you ever expect that Peter Parker saying he loves you would feel like a knife to the heart.
What hurts even more is the fact that he is so keen on shutting any chance, and sliver of hope down. He won't even try, like you're not worth any risks at all. It makes you question how important you actually are to him, makes you question if he really does love you in the way he claims he does.
"Ahem."
"Shit!" you squeaked, head snapping towards the squatted figure, eyes landing on the familiar masked man who seemed to like the element of surprise. "You need to stop doing that!"
"Sorry, should've given you a heads up," he apologized, voice sounding a little hoarse, a little...different.
"No shit," you grumbled, hastily wiping away your tears with the sleeves of your sweater before you turned back to face him. "What's brought you here?"
"Was just in the neighborhood, saw you out here and I thought I'd swing by," he said with a casual shrug, gaze steady on the building across. You did just the same as you turned back in front, fingers drumming on the concrete ledge as you stood in silence for a couple minutes, his company soothing in some odd way. But you welcome it, makes you feel more present, stopping you from slipping neck deep into the chaos that's in your head.
"You okay? You seem a bit down," he said, voice still a little gruff, eyes everywhere else but at you.
"Well, I guess you can say that," you breathed out.
"Want to talk about it?"
You bit your bottom lip when it started to tremble, a fresh batch of tears brimming in your eyes. "I told him," you whispered. "You know that friend I talked to you about? I told him I'm in love with him and he wasn't too happy with it. He pushed me away, I—" You shook your head with a shaky breath, eyes now trained on the busy street below. You swallowed the lump in your throat before adding, "He said he loved me but he pushed me away."
The superhero beside you cleared out his throat, shifting in his place until he was fully seated down, his legs hanging off the side of the building. "Did he tell you why?"
"He said he wouldn't be a good boyfriend and that he won't be there for me when I need him. He said I deserved better, which doesn't make any sense because he's already been doing that, being there for me. And I have no doubt he'd treat me rightly but he doesn't seem to believe that himself," you whimpered, harshly wiping away the tears that rushed out your eyes, not wanting to seem pathetic for a boy, not to seem weak in front of the masked hero.
"Hey, you don't have to act all tough for me," he reassured, hand coming up to give your shoulder a comforting squeeze for a short but sweet moment. "It's okay to cry, it doesn't mean you're weak."
You nodded, grateful for his understanding, flashing him a sad smile for a second before you stared back at the city. "And I get he's got a lot going on, I do too but what's painful is that he's not even willing to try and see if it would work or not. It hurts to think that I'm willing to try and make ends meet, that I would do anything to be with him, but he won't do the same for me. It makes me feel like I'm not worth fighting for, that I'm not enough."
"That's not true, Y/N," he whispered, almost as if didn't want you to hear it, your brows furrowing a little as you spared him a glance. He was already looking at you but the second your eyes landed on his face, he swiftly looked away. "What else did he say?" he asked swiftly, voice louder with a clear of his throat.
"He said he can't be with me because he didn't want to hurt me which sounds so fucking stupid since he's hurting me now. Really badly," you whimpered, bottom lip quivering as you screwed your eyes shut, taking in deep calming breaths, steadying yourself before you opened them again.
"Maybe he is just trying to look out for you," he started, head tilted to the side as he looked at you with a shaky breath. "Sometimes the best way to protect someone is to keep them at a safe distance, to not get too close to them, both physically but mostly emotionally."
You frowned, gaze landing back on the white fabric that's covered his eyes. "You do that too? Push people away?"
"I don't want to but I have to," he sighed, looking down at his hands like they were too heavy, like they hold so much weight over his life, caused him so much trouble and pain. He stared at them for a few seconds more before his fingers started to pick at his web shooters. "It's the best way to keep the people I care about safe."
"Because of all the bad guys chasing after you?"
He let out a soft chuckle as he nodded. "Yeah, you could say that."
You turned to face him fully, deep frown still etched on your lips as you crossed your arms over your chest. "Does that not get lonely?"
"It does." He nodded dejectedly, his eyes still looking elsewhere. "But it's better than seeing the ones I love get hurt because of the sole reason that they love me and that I love them just as much, if not more. Once they find out who I am, they're going to use that against me. They will always use that against me." The pain and hurt that coated his voice in his last sentence, you heard it loud and clear, makes you wonder what hardships he could've gone through to feel this way. "I think it's best to keep them away from this side of my world. I admit, it's really hard for me to stay away but I just keep reminding myself that all I'm doing is trying to keep them safe as much as I can," he paused, turning his head to finally look at you and you felt your heart stop at his next set of words.
"I'm just trying to protect them."
You felt as though that the clouds cleared up above your head, the puzzle pieces falling into place, completing itself as you slowly and finally tied everything together.
All those times he's suddenly in a rush to leave with a half-assed reason, the times where you'd catch a glimpse of the random cuts and bruises he had on his body, it all became so clear. And the night you first met Spider-Man, that odd feeling you had when he squeezed your hand the first time, it finally made sense. That same night, you felt as though you were crazy when you found yourself gravitating towards a complete stranger, a masked superhero at that. You found it ridiculous how you felt like you could trust him right off the bat. When you felt a vast feeling of being safe around him in so little time, initially you told yourself that it wasn't a good thing, that it was dangerous and you should tread carefully, but now the feeling just felt awfully familiar.
That's when you fully understood everything. The knots in your head gradually untangled itself as you gawked at him, mouth slightly agape in pure shock, tears welling up in your eyes for a different reason this time. All the things he's been through, all the pain and grief from the people he's lost, the weight that the world has put on his shoulders, it made your heartbreak. It made you feel so guilty that you weren't there for him through all that.
A new found weight settled itself in your chest because as you stared right at the mask, you saw him.
"Well, I need to go. You know, got a city to look after," he chuckled shyly as he looked away, his voice sounding starkly different from the previous encounters as it now held a sense of familiarity. "See you later."
With that, he jumped off, your eyes following the red in blue under the night sky, gradually getting smaller until disappearing from sight.
You smiled, a small one, didn't quite reach your ears but it was genuine. Your heart was still aching, mostly for him than for you, but it was also now filled with the greatest pride as you whispered, just under your breath,
"See you later, Peter Parker."
-:-:-:-:-
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