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hyypnotix-writes · 9 months

Text

Straight. Straight straight straight.

~ I really don’t know what this is. I couldn’t sleep and so, here we are. I’ve never written anything other than essays for uni before so ..this could go down like a lead balloon! we’ll see, lemme know! :) ~

~ it’s like ..10k words? because I really couldn’t sleep. so, it’s a long one ..if you have nothing else to do! ~

~ I don’t think it needs any content warnings, but please tell me if there should be! there’s some swearing, if that’s off putting to you.. ~

~ it takes a tiny while for A to show up, and she’s never explicitly named..but she is there, it is her ~

~ I’m talking myself out of posting, but this is too long to scrap now, sorry ~

~ good luck! good bye xx ~

________________

The club is a disgusting little place to be. Buried right in the centre of town, with drinks so extortionately expensive, they make even the cost of your London’s monthly rent, look a little reasonable. The music blares inside your head, the strobe lighting messes with your vision, and the smell of horny sweaty bodies is an assault on the nostrils. It’s your least favourite place on earth to be.

It’s somewhere you’d managed to avoid being, for all of your early twenties. You’ve had no reason to go to a club late at night. Not when you’ve had a boyfriend for the past 5 years to go home to. That dirty little desire to get drunk, and hookup with an attractive stranger, took a nice long hibernation.

For you.

Turns out, your ever-loving, ever-caring, fuckwit of an ex-boyfriend, still managed to find the time to go to clubs, and hookup with strangers in between spending nights with you. You really thought he was out working till the early hours of the morning, busy making a living for your future together? What an idiot you were.

So, you’re back in a nightclub, at the behest of some of your single friends, for the first time in over half a decade, borderline drunk out of your mind.

It’s still a comfortable level of tipsiness at the moment, you’d argue, despite stumbling a little on your way back towards the bar. You can easily identify the song that’s being blasted, you’ve been able to order more drinks independently without being refused service. Your inhibitions are long gone, but you’re still able to think clearly, and you’re ready to find someone to go home with.

Your friends are all dotted around the room getting off with men of varying levels of attractiveness. None of them have impressed you so far, you’re not so desperate for company that you’re willing to let your own standards drop tonight. You’re happy to wait for the best-looking man in the room. Looking around the room to scope the talent on offer, however, maybe you do need to lower your standards a little bit.

You approach the bar again, and order a shot of tequila for yourself. A friendly little liquid that’s had previous success with you, for getting you to sleep with just about anything.

“¡Dos, por favor!” Comes a call from behind you, from a woman you do not know. It’s rather ballsy of her, almost rude, but she holds out her card to pay, before you can get too irritated with her request.

“Gracias.” You offer, using your exceptional detective skills to work out the woman’s nationality.

“¿Hablas español?” She checks, as she leans next to you, and you wag a dismissive, drunken finger in front of her face as you shake your head.

“Sorry to disappoint,” you tell her, “only English. GCSE level German.”

She smirks, watching you, and you narrow your eyes at her, tapping the bar as you await your drink.

You’re handed your shot, with a lime wedge and some salt, and you nod in thanks, to the woman who bought it for you. You don’t wait for her to go first, you’re in a bit of a rush here. All the men in the room are getting uglier by the second, you need to act fast, before you see the light too clearly.

You lick your hand and pour on the salt, the woman watching you closely as you do. She doesn’t go through the motions at all for her own drink, she focuses solely on you, gently biting at her bottom lip.

You lick the salt, down the shot, and she holds the lime wedge in between her fingers for you to bite. You don’t question it. Not until you sink your teeth into the lime, your eyes meet over it, and time stand still.

She has very beautiful eyes. A mysterious looking hazel. They flicker over you as you suck the citrus juice, and you can see the crinkles in the corners of them as she smiles at you. It’s weirdly intimate, unnervingly so.

You pull away, wiping the juice from your chin as you point to her own glass for her to follow suit. You find yourself watching her as she does the same routine, but you don’t hold out the fruit for her, the way she did for you. It was a strange custom, one that’s already playing on a loop in your head.

“Can I get you another?” She offers, and you find yourself torn.

You’re not here for a woman, you’ve never been with one. You’ve kissed your girlfriends once or twice when you were younger, mainly as a gross way of attracting boys. It’s not something you thought too deeply about, it wasn’t exactly a lightbulb moment for you. There was never any secret yearning for any of your friends afterwards. You’re straight. Straight straight straight.

The woman’s eyes seem to pierce through your soul, as she waits for your answer, like she can see something in you that you can’t. It draws you in, but you hold yourself back.

“I’m straight.” You tell her, and she smirks at you again.

“Congratulations! I didn’t ask,” she points out, “but thanks for letting me know.”

You frown a little as she turns her attention back to the bartender and orders two more shots for the pair of you. She doesn’t seem put off by your sexuality claim at all. It’s almost like she doesn’t believe you, and you’re not too sure you appreciate her cockiness about it.

In fairness, maybe you’re the one being cocky. She doesn’t have a badge on her saying she’s a lesbian, there’s no rainbow floating above her head. She’s not a stereotypical lesbian, not in the way that your little sister is. Maybe she’s just being friendly, and you’re projecting, because you’re drunk and full of yourself.

“Sorry,” you start, leaning into her so she can hear you above the music, and she pushes the shot towards you, “I just thought ..maybe you were coming on to me.”

“That’s very wishful thinking from you.” She says simply, turning her head slightly to face you. She’s exceptionally close, and your eyes instantly trail to her lips. Time’s stood still again.

She has nice lips, very nice lips. They’d probably taste very nice..

You have to pull yourself away.

“Gracias.” You say again, gesturing to the glass in front of you with a frown. You reach for the salt, but before you can lick your hand, she raises it to her own mouth to wet it for you. You really don’t know what to make of her. It’s very gross, it’s very rude ..it’s very sexy.

There’s a confidence in her, that has you questioning things. The warmth of her tongue sends goosebumps right up your arm. Which, she can undoubtedly see, as you don’t have long sleeves and she’s smirking at you again. You don’t appreciate her smug little attitude. Anyone would have a physical reaction to being licked by a stranger, she has no business being arrogant about it.

You must have been stuck in place for too long, as she pours the salt onto your hand on your behalf too.

You don’t like being outdone. If she wants to play it cocky, you can match her for it. You grab the lime wedge and indicate for her to open her mouth. It catches her a little off guard, which you feel a sense of pride in, but she doesn’t back down from your challenge. She welcomes your newfound confidence, with that same little smirk from before.

You place the lime, skin-side back, in between her teeth and you lick the salt from your hand with unwavering eye contact. You down the shot, and you pull her in carefully by her neck.

Your lips brush against hers, ever so slightly, as you bite the lime between her teeth and remove it in your own. It’s a deliberate move from you, maybe you’re feeling messy tonight. You watch as she raises her fingers to her lips, and you wipe the juice again with the back of your hand. You give her a nod with another little ‘gracias’, before heading away from the bar without looking back at her.

You’re stuck on a carousel of men once you return to the centre of the club. They are all admittedly, far better looking than they were before your little trip to get drinks, but there’s still no one drawing your eye. None of them like that cocky little woman at the bar.

She wasn’t really little, she’s quite tall, actually. Had a couple inches on you, that’s for sure, and you’re not short. She was impressively tall, she had nice posture. She didn’t slouch or look uncomfortable. She was just tall, and beautiful, with that endearing little smirk on her pretty little fa— what are you doing?

You need to find yourself a man, and quick.

You’ve trapped yourself between another one and a wall, only a few minutes later, and it feels like a mistake. His hands are on your hips, his mouth is dangerously close to yours, and frankly, no amount of alcohol could make you genuinely attracted to him.

“You’re really sexy.” He slurs, his hand grazing up your body.

No, next.

It doesn’t take long to find another, his arm wrapped round your waist as he shares his drink with you. He’s cute, you’re fairly certain. He does have a moustache, which isn’t your usual cup of tea. It’s like a little caterpillar resting above his top lip, twitching as he talks to you. He drowns it slightly as he has more of his drink, and it makes you cringe as he licks at it.

It’d probably tickle if he kissed you, or leave you with a rash, the hairy little ferret on his lip.

Do you know who didn’t have a moustache? Who you wouldn’t have to work out, how not to throw up in their face, as there’s no risk of their facial hair ever getting stuck in your mouth as you kiss?

Mhmm.

Straight straight straight.

You slide out from his embrace, twirling him around to go after some other poor soul and you return to the bar.

It’s disappointing to realise she’s no longer there, not that she should be waiting around for you. She’s probably found someone less rude to spend her time with, someone more gay.

Look at the state of you, traipsing back to a bar in search of woman you don’t know because she looked at you for a second too long and now you can’t shake her from your head. How embarrassing. You’re straight. Straight straight straight.

You make your way through to the ladies’ room to splash some water on your face, and come to your senses. Of course, that’s where she’s hiding. With some new company of her own.

That shouldn’t hurt you. You don’t even know this woman’s name. You know nothing about her at all except that she’s tall, beautiful and has soft lips. Lips that are now on another woman and you’re incensed. You have no right to be angry about it, and yet, here you are.

You bash at the head of the tap, rather aggressively. Sometimes taps in nightclub restrooms don’t work, it probably needed a firm touch. It has nothing to do with you wanting to distract the woman, no no no. Because you’re straight. Straight straight straight.

You don’t need the attention of another woman, that would be ridiculous. That wouldn’t be very straight of you at all.

It doesn’t seem like your loud and theatrical washing of your hands has done anything to disturb the kiss to the side of you.

And good! You wouldn’t want to do that.

So, when you bump into them to reach for some hand towels, that’s just an accident. The fact that the tall, beautiful, soft-lipped, Spanish woman’s eyes flick to you as you dry your hands, is just an unfortunate side effect of your clumsiness.

The fact that it doesn’t stop her from kissing the other woman, however, is outrageous. Her watching you, as she’s busy with someone else? How disgusting.

Your heart shouldn’t be racing at the sight of her, your breath shouldn’t be as shallow at is, and it definitely shouldn’t be catching in your throat as the other woman kisses down her neck, and she’s still only looking at you. This isn’t attractive. This isn’t turning you on. You don’t wish it was you on her neck. There’s that infamous smirk on her face again as she stares at you. She’s unbelievable.

You throw your towels in the bin with an almighty clang as you let the lid drop back down, finally putting the other woman off her stride, and you make a swift exit back into the club.

The music’s too loud again, the smell is suffocating, all of the men are gross by comparison to the woman stuck in your head. It’s been an unsuccessful night and you’re ready to go home alone.

The hand that grabs you, has other ideas.

“You said you were straight!” She reminds you, as she pulls you outside with her.

“I am!” You tell her, still annoyed with her little antics.

“You followed me to the toilet?”

“I didn’t know you were in there!” You point out, even more annoyed with her cocky little attitude.

“You’re angry.” She tells you, smirking. “Didn’t like me kissing someone else?”

“I don’t care who you kiss!”

“No?”

“No!”

There’s a palpable tension between you both. It doesn’t make sense. You don’t know this woman. She doesn’t know you. It doesn’t matter that she kissed someone else. You were trying to kiss someone else only a minute before.

Why you’re so enraged by a woman who’s bought you two shots, getting with another woman after you walked away from her, is a question for future you. You’re not about to have an existential crisis in front of her. Questioning your identity in your mid-twenties, is absurd. You’re straight. Straight straight straight.

There’s a curiousness, to her decisions, actually. To follow you, when she already had company. To drag you outside, to where no one else is. She’s very confident about you being interested, but she’s not exactly being apathetic herself.

“Why did you leave her?” You ask.

“What?”

“You followed me,” you point out, furrowing your brow, “had a pretty girl draping herself all over you, and you left her to follow me. Why?”

You’ve clearly touched a nerve; her smirk has vanished. You can see her tongue pushing against the inside of her mouth. She’s annoyed with you.

She slowly runs her tongue under her teeth, before wetting her bottom lip with it while rolling her eyes. She doesn’t miss how your breath hitches watching her. Her smirk is back, and she moves closer to you.

“Maybe I’ll go back to her.” She threatens, and your jaw clenches slightly.

“Maybe you should!” You tell her, taking steps backwards as she approaches.

“Do you want me to?”

You collide into the wall behind you, and she places her hands on it by your head.

“No.” You confess, breathlessly.

“You said you were straight.” She repeats, her face mere inches from yours as she leans into you.

You swallow down, your pulse picking up speed.

“I am.” You insist, your eyes locking onto her mouth. “I..”

“Do you want me to go?”

“No.”

“What do you want me to do?” She questions knowingly, that all too familiar smirk, taking over her face. She tilts her head, impossibly close to yours. You can smell the lime that lingers on her lips, feel her breath that softly blows against you, but she still doesn’t let you have what you want.

“Are you going to make me beg for it?” You groan, leaning backwards into the wall as far as you can.

“Maybe.” She tells you.

You hate her holding all the cards like this. She has you like putty in her hands. She’s all cocky and in control. Who does she think she is?

You’re better than this. You’re not shy around people you fancy. You may have been caught in a pointless relationship for far too long, but you’re a catch, people are into you. This woman right here, is into you. You don’t need to be nervous with her, it doesn’t mean anything. You’re straight. Straight straight straight. It could be the worst kiss of your life, and why should you care?

You slink your arm up behind her neck, closing the distance between you even further, and her eyelids flutter shut.

“I’m not going to.” You inform her, emboldened by her reaction to you. You duck out from under her arms, blowing her a kiss as you walk back inside. To find a man to take you home. You’re straight. Straight straight straight.

It doesn’t take you long at all to find another man to wear around you. One with glasses on. No, he’s not attractive. No, you don’t want to go home with him. But he’s here, he’s a man, and he isn’t driving you quite as crazy as the woman you keep running into. It’s simple, it’s easy, it’s hassle free. It’s exactly what you came for, you’re ready to go.

________________

Waking up in unfamiliar sheets, is something you haven’t done in a while. You’re quietly proud of yourself. The sheets smell nice, your hangover headache isn’t half as bad as you thought it would be, and there’s a pleasurable little ache between your legs that tells you that, whatever happened last night, you more than enjoyed yourself.

You wriggle a little under the covers and take a peek to confirm that you are indeed, completely naked. Your eyes are allowed to trail the body next to you. You’ve had sex with it, you’re more than entitled.

You really don’t remember which man it was you left with. There was the one with the glasses, the tall one with the mullet, the man with the moustache, the unfortunate gentleman with the incorrectly placed toupee.

He’s probably the one you’d most be upset about seeing next to you. Not that he didn’t seem friendly enough, but he really wasn’t the attractive stranger you were hunting for.

You risk another quick peek under the covers and your eyes all but bug out of your head. No no nonononono. You pull the covers back down and shut your eyes, trying to remember what the hell went wrong. You had countless semi-attractive men all over you. How the hell?

You peek again. Maybe you’re seeing things. Your hungover little brain playing tricks on you.

No.

That’s definitely not a man’s body. It’s far too beautiful. It’s toned, smooth, sculpted by the gods themselves. You want to put your tongue on it. You probably already have had your tongue on it. Who knows what you’ve done to it, what it’s done to you. How the hell did you go home with a woman?

“Are you enjoying the view?” The voice outside of the covers asks, and you roll yourself over under the sheets away from her.

You’d recognise that accent anywhere. That cocky little tone to her voice. That insufferable Spanish woman from the bar. That tall, beautiful, soft-lipped, Spanish walking-headache, took you home, and had her way with you? You? When you’re straight? Straight straight straight.

The ache in between your legs, the dull satisfaction running through your body, and you have her to thank for it?

It’s a dream. It’s a nightmare. It’s a horrible, twisted little trick, that, if you keep your eyes closed to, maybe it will all disappear around you and you’ll wake up again next to a man. A gross, sweaty little man, with too much hair on his face and not enough on the top of his head.

There’s a snicker from outside of the covers and you let out a huff, as she taps at your body.

“What?” You grumble, making no effort to free yourself from the sheets you’ve cocooned yourself in.

You can feel her shimmy herself closer to you and you hold your hand behind you to stop her.

“No!” You tell her, quite firmly, as her torso connects with your fingertips. Her toned torso. Her taut, muscly torso that your fingers have somehow now spread out over. You can feel her breathing against your palm. She hasn’t edged any closer to you after your outburst, and you regret telling her off so soon.

You’d quite like her pressed up against you, if that’s what she wants to do. Maybe you were too hasty, too rude. You can still feel the shortness of her breath against your hand. You’re being inappropriate, touching her like this. You slowly remove your hand from her, still hovering it pretty close.

You reach back for her arm, trailing your fingers down it until you meet with her hand, and you pull it around you. You’re not entirely sure what’s possessing you, you just want to feel her on your skin. She doesn’t need much encouragement to nestle into you, and it’s definitely not a man’s body.

You tangle your fingers with hers over your stomach, leaning into her. She has nice hands. Hands that are quite a bit bigger than yours, it’s no wonder you have an ache.

She removes the covers from over your head, instantly placing her lips to your neck. It’s very easy to forget yourself with her mouth on you, it’s no real surprise she managed to trick you into coming back to hers at all. She frees her fingers from yours, moving her hand down your body, and you put up no resistance to her. You encourage it, if anything, moving yourself to make it easier.

It’s nothing like having a man between your legs. There’s no needless grunting above you, no mindless grabbing, or endless showboating. You don’t need to make excessive noises to boost her ego. She just really knows what she’s doing with her fingers. She has every right to be cocky with herself.

Maybe this is just what it is to be with a woman. Maybe they just know, it’s the same parts, after all. Maybe it’s an inherent knowledge that all women possess, but only a select few ever get to experience. Lucky them.

Lucky you.

You are still being quite loud with her inside of you. It’s not for her benefit, it just really feels very good. You grip at her head behind you, running your fingers down the back of her neck, and you bite at your other hand to mute your sound effects, to stop giving her quite so much satisfaction with herself. You can see that smug little smirk on her face, it’s impossible to know if it’s still annoying or just incredibly sexy. It’s a very thin line with this woman.

It’s hard to keep still with her going to work on you the way she is. You find yourself rolling back over into her and she welcomes you, easily capturing your lips with hers. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

They are very nice lips, they do taste nice, and it’s not the first time you’ve kissed them.

Memories of the night come flooding back in.

________________

“I can take you back to mine?” The man wearing glasses offers.

“Perfect!” You reply, all too eager to get out of this frustrating little situation you’ve found yourself in. He places his cup on the nearest table, and winks at you, before leading you to the door.

Again, the hand that grabs you, has other ideas.

“You’re not leaving with him!” She tells you in no uncertain terms, as she holds you firmly in place.

“You can’t tell me what to do! Who the hell do you think you are?” She doesn’t give in, and as you turn to find the man, he’s already wandered off without you. “Are you joking? What’s your problem?”

You’re absolutely furious with the woman, she has no right to ruin your plans like this. You shake her off of you and head back to the bar, but she shadows you closely.

“You can fuck right off, following me about!”

“You’re really very angry.” She tells you, rather amused at your attitude. “Why, because I didn’t let you leave with some gross man?”

“He was cute!”

“He was about 50!”

That can’t be right.

He had glasses on, sure, but so do lots of people in their twenties. He had ..greying hair. Slightly less common, perhaps, but he had been cute.

Hadn’t he?

“Fuck!”

You rub your fingers over your forehead, trying to erase him from your mind, as the woman continues smirking at you.

“You can wipe that smug look off your face, right now!” You warn her and she chuckles to herself.

“Do you want another drink?”

“..Please.”

You down another round of shots together, being inappropriate with the salt and limes again. There’s an incredible amount of confidence in you. Whether it’s your new disdain for this woman, the fact that you’re unlikely to be going home with someone you’ll be happy waking up next to, or just the alcohol flooding your system, who can tell, but it’s a confidence that you’re more than willing to embrace.

You order another round of drinks and lick her collarbone ready to pour the salt on to. Her eyebrow quirks at you, but she doesn’t stop you doing it. She readies the lime in her mouth, as you down the tequila, and she pierces it with her teeth for you, dripping the juice into your mouth from hers up above.

It’s a very weird mating call from her, and it’s 100% effective. You grab her hand and lead her back to the hallway between the toilets. You bury your head in her neck as the moustache walks past you both, and you open the door to the smoking area to see if anyone’s about. No one is, so you pull her outside with you.

“Why are we back here?” She asks, that smug smile still tattooed on her lips.

“I feel more sober in fresh air.”

“Mm? You’re very drunk.”

“You’re very drunk!”

“Maybe, but at least I’m not on a ridiculous hunt for a man!”

“It’s not ridiculous, it’s meticulous!” You tell her, giggling slightly at your accidental rhyme. “I’m looking for a very specific man, preferably a good looking one, in his twenties.”

“Really? You didn’t seem too worried, that a man in his twenties was actually a man in his fifties!” She points out.

“Mm. I don’t know that I’m particularly worried about a man in his twenties ..being a woman in her twenties either.” You tell her with a rather casual shrug as you head to one of the tables. You sit yourself up on it, looking back at the woman who gives you a knowing little smile.

“You’re not very straight, are you?” She asks sarcastically.

“I really am.” You sigh, rolling your eyes. “I’ve never been with a woman, never wanted to be. I’ve only just got out of a long-term relationship with a man. I’ve only ever wanted to be with men.”

“Mm?” She mumbles, moving over to you slowly. She carefully pushes your knees apart and stands in between them, looking down at you. “I’m not a man.” She reminds you, and you trap your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Maybe I don’t want you.”

“Mm?” She places a curved finger under your chin, tilting your head and bringing your mouths very close together. “Tell me you don’t.”

There’s a feeling in your stomach at her challenge, a feeling lower than your stomach at her challenge. You do want her, and you’re not a good enough liar to pretend that you don’t.

“I can’t..” You admit, and she smiles again, before removing herself from you. You let out a frustrated little sigh as she moves backwards, and you swing your legs back together. “You want me too!” You tell her and she tilts her head to the side.

“Who told you that?”

“Tell me you don’t.”

“..I can’t.” She admits, and maybe her cocky little smirk has found its way onto your face.

You jump down from the tabletop and lean back against it, nibbling at the inside of your mouth. She casually walks back over to you, resting her hand on your hip.

It’s far less offensive than gentleman number 6’s grazing of your body. You don’t feel the need to push her away at all. She leans back into you, tucking your hair behind your ear. It sends a little tingle right down the side of your neck, and she smirks again at your reaction. You can’t not roll your eyes at her incessant need to be arrogant. She rubs her thumb across your cheek and over your mouth, pulling down on your lower lip gently.

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

“Yes.”

“Yes ..what?” She asks, and she’s ruined the moment. You shake your head at her chuckling lightly.

“If you don’t want to kiss me, it’s fine, we don’t have to. I’m not going to beg you for it.” You tilt your head, brushing her nose with yours. “Do you want to kiss me?” She nods silently, and you wink at her. “Looks like we’re both missing out then!”

You slip out from between her and the table and make your way over to the door.

“Where are you going?”

“To find a man to take me home! I’m straight!”

You can hear her cocky little laugh as you head back into the club, and it sends a little thrill right through your body.

This bizarre game of cat and mouse continues between you both for a little while longer. You keep buying each other shots, drinking them in more obscene ways every time. You back each other into walls, threatening to kiss each other, before one of you walks away, and the whole process repeats itself.

It’s getting harder to compose yourself after each round of shots. You really do just want her to kiss you, you’ve had enough of fighting it, but you also don’t want her to have the satisfaction of you caving in. It’s a ruthless little battle that you’ve found yourself in. She’s incredibly competitive.

You have to commit. Genuinely find yourself a man. It shouldn’t be hard. There’s lots of them about, and you’re more drunk now than you’ve been all night. You’re embarrassingly easy prey.

You survey your surroundings, hoping for one decent looking man to catch your eye. It’s a truly talentless night. You find yourself grimacing slightly realising that all of your friends have already left the place. Some of them will definitely regret their choices in the morning.

As will you, if you don’t manage to get at least one kiss from this godforsaken woman.

“Looking for me?” She asks as she sidles on next to you, leaning against the wall.

“I’m looking for a man! I’ve already told you this.”

“Well ..there’s one there.” She tells you, gesturing to a random fellow in the corner. “There’s another there.” She points out. “There. There. The—”

“I get it, thanks. You have terrible taste in men.”

“I don’t have any taste in men.” She reminds you. “I have pretty impeccable taste in women.”

“Mm? Well, which one takes your fancy?” You ask. “There’s one over there. There ..there. Th—”

She grabs your pointed finger and turns it back towards you. It’s not a new answer, so god knows why you’re blushing at it.

“Then kiss me.” You tell her, little louder than a whisper. “Just kiss me, for fuc—”

She’s clearly had enough too. Maybe it was the tiredness in your voice, the obvious look of defeat in your eyes. Maybe she just doesn’t like you swearing. You’re not going to question it. Her lips are finally on yours, and she was definitely worth the wait. It ignites a spark in you, it sends your tipsy little mind fully into orbit, and she’s the only other person in the room with you.

There’s no sense of desperation in the kiss. It’s not messy, or chaotic. It’s deliberate from her, considered. There’s an air of caution perhaps, a worry that you’ll pull away from her. You’re straight, after all. Maybe she’s nervous that your certainty in wanting a kiss will waver now that she’s finally given you what you want. Maybe you’ve realised that you don’t actually want it.

It’s a new experience for you, surprisingly different from kissing a man, but it’s not one you want to pull away from. It’s not one you want to rush. It’s not one you really want to end at all. You can sense her apprehension, and it’s the first time that she’s had no snark. It’s not a cocky little kiss. She’s not doing it to get it over and done with. It’s not going to end with her smirking at you, like she’s done you a favour. It isn’t meaningless.

It’s tentative, and frankly, you’ve had enough of her carefulness. If she needs a sign that you’re not going anywhere, that you want her to keep kissing you, you’ll find a way to do that. Your tongue parts her lips, and the gasp you elicit is all the confirmation you need of her nerves. It’s endearing to have her be quite so vulnerable with you.

You deepening the kiss is clearly all the confirmation she needs that everything’s fair game, because she wastes no time in escalating the intensity. She clings to you, wrapping her arm around your waist, her hand gripping at your hip, the other cradling your jaw. She backs you up against the wall and muffles the moan that escapes you with your joined lips.

Her tongue dances with yours, and you let her take over all your senses. It’s just a kiss, and yet it’s like a journey to a whole new world. It’s entirely all-consuming, the rest of existence has melted to nothingness around you. You don’t care where you are, you don’t care who’s watching. Or do you?

Maybe there is a mild sense of urgency to it, because kissing is simply not enough. You need to have her closer, impossibly close. You need her, entirely, and regardless of how much you’re craving the feeling of her, you do still care about where that happens.

“Are you local?” You ask, breaking the kiss to catch your breath. She only gives a silent nod in reply. “I’m like ..20 minutes by taxi?”

“My hotel’s closer than that.”

“So ..back to yours?”

“Are you sure?” She asks, searching your eyes for any sense of reluctance. She’s unlikely to find any, but you nod, assertively, just to reaffirm. “I’m not taking you back to mine to ..play cards?” She double-checks with you and you chuckle, resting your forehead to hers.

“No, I’m sort of counting on that.” You tell her. “Unless you don’t wa—”

She cuts you off with a kiss again. There was no swearing this time, no tiredness or look of defeat. Maybe she just likes kissing you.

“Are you absolutely sure?” She asks again, because she’s polite, and underneath all her cocky annoyingness, she really is very sweet.

“Oh my god.” You sigh. You do still find yourself rolling your eyes, you don’t know how much more obvious you need to be with her. “..please.”

The rush back to her hotel room is fun, you feel like a teenager all over again. Waltzing through the streets of London, your hand interlaced with an attractive stranger’s, the promise of sex hanging in the air.

It doesn’t matter that it’s a woman you’re linked up with. That doesn’t mean anything. It’s a one-time little indulgence. An experiment, for research purposes. To find out what it is your sister’s been going so crazy over, ever since she was a teenager.

It doesn’t mean anything when she keeps kissing you against the walls of closed buildings. It doesn’t mean anything when you pull her back into you at the entrance of her hotel. Yes, it’s nice. It’s enjoyable. It steals the air right from your lungs every single time, but that doesn’t mean anything. How could it, when you’re straight? Straight straight straight.

You do keep your hands off each other when you get to the lift of the hotel, there’s an older woman in there with you, and you’re not about to put on a show for her. Not for free.

Maybe your eyes keep meeting too much, or the smirking is too obvious. Maybe you do keep touching once or twice, because something’s definitely giving you both away.

“Lesbians?” The older woman asks, with a very clear disdain.

“Hm? For tonight.” You reply with a nod, unperturbed by her demeanour. Your Spanish host shakes her head at you, smiling as she looks up at the ceiling.

You’ve dealt with a few homophobes in your time. Your sister isn’t exactly subtle with her identity. It welcomes dirty looks, offensive words, and you’ve never been one to shy away from protecting her. You’ve never had to defend yourself against prejudice, but she’s not exactly an intimidating woman. You could easily take her if she tries to raise her hand.

“It’s disgusting.” She mutters under her breath, and her unsupportive attitude is sort of spurring you on.

“Do you think?” You ask. “What’s so disgusting about it?”

“Two women. It’s a waste.”

“Oof. I am not about to let her go to waste, don’t you worry about that at all, madam.” You reassure her, offering a friendly smile that earns you a very angry look in reply.

You don’t miss the smirk that graces the taller woman’s face next to you in the mirror, and that’s all the encouragement you need.

“It’s not natural!” The older woman tells you, and you nod your head slowly back at her. “It’s disgusting!”

“You’re very annoyed about it.” You point out. “It’s a bit unnecessary, no?”

“I think you’re both disgusting!” She hisses at you again.

“Oh dear.” You lean back against the bar of the elevator, as the older woman stares you down. “That’s an incredible argument you’ve put forward. I think I’ve seen the light!”

She not at all impressed by your relaxed sarcasm, you’re clearly getting on her nerves. Your lack of remorse, the fact you’re not begging for her forgiveness.

“I think it—”

“You think it’s disgusting, madam. We get it.” You interrupt, a little bit tired of her insistence. “Don’t spend your evening with another woman, then. We’re not inviting you to join us, so you can calm down.” You tell her, moving back towards the Spanish woman behind you.

She wraps her arm around your waist instantly and you lean into her touch. It’s comforting, subtle. It’s a very casual display of support without silencing you, without fighting over you.

She’s not dramatically shouting at the other woman; she’s not emasculated by you doing all the talking. She’s not making empty threats or getting up in the other woman’s face.

She’s not reacting at all in the way you’ve come to expect. The way that he probably would, to someone questioning him. Not that your ex ever defended your sister’s honour with you, but he certainly enjoyed getting into a scrap when he felt threatened.

It’s very attractive from her, actually, to just silently remind you that she’s there if you need her. That she’s with you, she does have your back, and you’d kiss her right there on the mouth if the woman opposite wasn’t glaring at you quite so intently.

Maybe you should kiss her regardless. There’s only a few more floors left till the old bat gets off. What’s she going to do, slap you both for some pda? There’s a security camera in here, she wouldn’t be so stupid.

Perhaps you can control yourself for a couple more floors, you don’t need to provoke the bastard woman. So what if she’s an unfavourable little witch, she’s not ruining your evening, you’re not going to let her.

Well, if that’s your logic, why should you let her stop you from kissing the woman when you want to? What courtesy do you owe to her? If she’s that upset about it, she’ll have to either avert her eyes like a petulant little child, or stop off at the floor below and hope she doesn’t choke on her bigotry when walking the rest of the way up. You don’t care.

Thankfully, neither does the Spanish beauty who matches your energy and kisses you back with the same fervour you’re showing her.

You’re instantly entirely unbothered by the third wheel once there’s an extra tongue back in your mouth, her Spanish hands on your face. You don’t care at all how uncomfortable you’re making the old bint. Frankly, you hope her eyes are burning at the sight of you both.

She doesn’t let you enjoy your moment for too long. Of course she doesn’t, the dark-sided little mare. She barges past you both as the doors open and she spits at the floor in front of you. The absolute nerve. She expectorates in the lift inside of a nice hotel, and you’re the disgusting ones? Absolutely not. You’re seeing red. You really could take her, you’ve been to a gym more than once or twice in your life, you’re not weak.

“You revolting little bi—”

The hand that grabs you, has other ideas.

“Let her go!” She tells you, laughing as she spins you back round to face her. “Por favor, she’s not worth it!”

“She spat at us! That dirty little cu—”

She kisses you again. Maybe she really does hate your swearing. Her lips are distracting, though, and you don’t mind learning that that’s one surefire way to get them back on yours.

“She really was a hateful bitch.” You murmur between kisses, and the Spaniard giggles against you.

“You’re a very angry straight girl.” She tells you, pushing your hair back off your face. “You don’t like homophobes?”

“Do you?” You ask, frowning at the woman in front of you.

“No,” she admits with a chuckle, “I’d have probably just let her get on with it quietly, though. Didn’t feel the need to anger her more!”

“I’m sorry for embarrassing you.”

“You didn’t, I’d have backed you if she kept going.”

There’s that sexy little smirk again. It shouldn’t do things to you the way it does. It shouldn’t set your whole body on fire. A small curve to her lips, and you want to rip her clothes off? You’re very tragic.

You drag your eyes away from her and scan the floor number you’re on.

“Bloody hell!” You sigh. “Did you really have to book a room on the highest bloody floor? I get it, you’re rich ..but fuck me!”

You drum out your frustrations on the handrail of the lift, it’s slow ascent through the floors seemingly never-ending.

“Are you sobering up?” She asks, and you nod at her, still tapping your hands. “Are you changing your mind?”

You stop your little percussive performance and turn back to face her.

“You’re very convinced that I’m going to back out?”

“I just want you to know that you can.”

It’s genuine from her. It’s not a perverse attempt at guilt tripping, she’s not trying some weird technique of reverse psychology. She genuinely wants you to know that it’s okay if you’re not ready. If your own act of confidence, is exactly that, just an act.

You take her hand and pull her back towards you. She rests her hands on the rail behind you and you lean in very close.

“Do you want me to?” You ask, and she shakes her head. You tilt her face to meet her eyes and you kiss the corner of her mouth. “Well, okay then, and neither do I.” You tell her quietly, your lips feathering hers. “So know, that until I revoke it, you have my consent ..to do whatever.”

“Careful,” she warns, “I might take you up on that.”

It earns you a deep kiss, and another cheeky smirk. There’s exhilaration shooting through your body and this goddamn endless journey through the sky is entirely unbearable.

“It’s very cute, that your hotel is so close to the bar, but it really would’ve been quicker to just go back to mine!” You point out, patting at her hands behind you.

“I’m sorry, it wasn’t me that booked it.”

That’s very cryptic. What on earth is that supposed to mean?

“Please don’t tell me your girlfriend’s waiting for you in there.” You tell her, narrowing your eyes as you await an explanation.

“No, it’s a ..business trip.”

That’s still very cryptic.

“A business trip? What do you do for a living?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“No?” You chuckle, arching an eyebrow. “Are you a spy?”

She laughs back at you, shaking her head. “No,” she assures you, “but it’s too personal.”

“Too personal? We’re not allowed to know each other’s careers?”

She shakes her head, and you find yourself smiling slightly with narrowed eyes. It’s very intriguing. If she wants you to be less interested in her, that wasn’t the way to play it.

“So, I’m guessing, I’m also not allowed to even know your name?” You check.

“A.”

“A?” You chuckle, nodding your head. “That’s a very beautiful name!” You tell her, your hand resting on her chest as you push her away from you. “There’s no way your parents were that lazy!”

“It’s my initial.” She tells you, rolling her eyes with that classic little smirk, as she pulls you back with her across to the other side of the elevator. “My first name starts with A.”

“And that’s all you’re giving me?” You ask, resting your hands on the railing behind her as she nods her head. “You really don’t want me to find you after tonight?” You question her, with your tongue tracing the bottom of your teeth. “Haven’t even been with me yet, and you already know you won’t want a repeat?”

She dips her head to kiss you again, and your hands grip at the bar behind her. You pull yourself in towards her, desperate to be closer, and she cradles your head in her hand.

“It’s not that,” she tells you gently, “but I go home tomorrow.”

Shit. That shouldn’t be so surprising to you. She has a thick Spanish accent, she’s staying in a luxury hotel, paid for by a company on her behalf. Of course she isn’t staying in London for very long. What happened to your exceptional detective skills? How did you not work that one out?

“Fuck.” Is all that falls out of your mouth as you pull yourself back from the woman.

“I’m sorry..” she offers, but you shake your head with a heavy sigh.

“No, I should have realised.” You tell her, nibbling at the inside of your mouth.

It’s a bummer, certainly. There’s something between you both. Whether it’s just a physical attraction, a sexual desire, who knows? But it’s there. You can feel it, and you’re positive that she can too. It doesn’t have to be anything deeper than that. That would mean you really did need to do some introspective work on yourself moving forward.

She’s just a woman. The one woman. The world’s most beautiful woman, who’s turned your world upside down, in a matter of hours. Who bought you a drink, that left you confused. That kissed another woman, and left you annoyed. Who refused to let you leave with a random ancient bastard and has saved you from spending a fundamentally flawed night with a limp-dicked disappointment.

And tomorrow she’ll be gone. You only have tonight with her.

You can walk, she’s already told you that. You can turn around now, and not let yourself fall any deeper. Save yourself the pain of a perfect night that you’ll never be able to repeat. Save yourself from spending the rest of your life chasing an experience you can never recreate with someone else.

It’d be hard enough to find her in London. It’ll be impossible to track her down in Spain.

Leave her now, with just the mind-numbing kisses to haunt you for all eternity. Don’t give your soul to a woman you’ll never see again. Don’t let her steal your heart away with her. Don’t ruin a life of enjoying mediocre sex for yourself.

The elevator rings out, signalling your arrival at her floor and you stay rooted to the spot as she slowly makes her exit. She looks back at you, a sad smile replacing her arrogant one.

“I understand.” She tells you, as she disappears down the hall.

You don’t understand. You don’t understand at all why your body feels so drawn to this woman. Why your mind, your heart, your soul are so desperate for you to chase after her. It can only spell trouble for you. One kiss with her sent your head spinning. Anything more than that will undoubtedly result in irreparable damage. How do you recover from that? How do you move on? How do you let yourself make any other meaningful connections with someone after feeling so intoxicated by a woman you know absolutely nothing about?

It isn’t possible for you to feel this way. It doesn’t make any sense. Even if you weren’t straight. Straight straight straight. How the hell can you fall for someone, when you don’t even have the luxury of knowing her first name? You don’t know what she does, you don’t know who she is. She could be an evil mastermind. A dark-sided villain who does terrible things, all the way over in Spain.

Don’t follow her. It’s foolish. It’ll be the worst mistake of your life. A night you can’t take back. An act you can’t undo.

The doors start to close in front of you, and you wedge your foot in between to stop them. You’re an idiot. A damn blasted fool.

But how could you not go after her? How can you not chase after the rush she sends through you? It’s dangerous, it’s messy, but you want her. Even though it’s just for a night. You can’t walk away from a feeling this strong. A yearning so powerful every cell in your body is screaming out for it.

She’s annoying. Frustrating. Beautiful. Enticing. There’s something, and you can’t very well just turn around and walk the other way.

You follow her into the hallway of her floor, and she turns back to face you.

“I thoug—”

“I didn’t revoke.” You tell her, shaking your head as you walk towards her. “I didn’t come up all this way to play cards, and I certainly didn’t come up all this way to go straight back bloody down again!”

She chuckles at you, shaking her head.

“And tomorrow?”

“We’ll deal with that then.” You tell her. “If it’s only meant to be one incredible night, then so be it.”

“You think it’ll be incredible?” She asks, the smirk tugging at her lips.

“With you? ..yes.”

The smirk morphs into a full smile. One that reaches her eyes. One that transforms her whole beautiful face into the most breathtaking radiance as she beams back down at you.

“And what if it’s awful?” She chuckles.

“Then I’ll be packing your bags for you to go in the morning.”

She takes a step to close the distance between you and pulls you in for a slow deep kiss.

“Are you absolutely su—”

“For fuck’s sake!” You whisper, crashing your head to her shoulder to chuckle against her neck. “Yes! I’m sure! I’m very bloody certain, I want you to take me to your room. Yes!”

“Yes ..what?”

She’s incredibly frustrating. Just wilfully annoying. Childish, pathetic, addictive, perfect. She’s everything. She’s absolutely everything.

“Please.”

________________

You don’t hate this woman. She didn’t trick you into bed at all. There’s affection between you, a fondness. It wasn’t a drunken night of angry passion. It was intimate, careful, experimental. Perfect.

You have a desperate need for this woman you’re wrapped up in. A want to have her close, to keep her with you forever. An impossible request. An unattainable, hopeless little prayer.

“You’re leaving today.” You remind her, panting slightly as she calms you from your high.

“I did tell you that.” She whispers, her fingers trailing your stomach.

“I know, I just ..it just hit me.”

You look back to her, and there’s a sadness in her eyes that you can only imagine you’re reflecting back at her with yours. You stroke your thumb over her cheek and lean in for a kiss. It’s soft, impossibly gentle. It’s the most painful way to say goodbye.

“I should go,” you tell her, “my sister will be wondering where I am. Wondering what ..man I hooked up with.” You chuckle a little pulling yourself out of her embrace.

“What will you tell her?”

“He was beautiful.” You admit. “Foreign.. Italian, I think.”

She laughs to the side of you, leaning back over towards you as she shakes her head. She places a kiss on your shoulder, lighting a tiny fire with her mouth.

“I don’t want you to go.” She tells you, placing more kisses to your shoulder, your collarbone, your lips.

You don’t want to go either, not when she’s igniting an inferno inside of your body like this. It’s cruel, it’s sadistic. It’s the perfect way to say goodbye.

“What time’s your flight?” You ask, with a mild desperation to your voice.

“Not till this evening.”

“Do you have to be anywhere else today?”

“Not till this afternoon.”

“So, we still have the rest of the morning?”

“Mhmm.”

“It probably wouldn’t be the worst thing ..if I was late back home.”

“No?”

“Unless you’re kicking me out?”

She has no intention of doing that, as well you know. She straddles herself on top of you, and your heart starts racing again. Her body on full display in front of you. The most beautiful body. She’s in incredible shape. It’d be more intimidating to you, if she hadn’t repeatedly told you how beautiful she thinks you are last night. You’re not in terrible shape yourself, but you definitely felt the need to tense more to give yourself some sort of definition. Her abs are just naturally on full display without any effort from her at all.

“You’re very beautiful.” You tell her, taking her in. “You have very beautiful ..eyes.”

“My eyes are up here.” She tells you, pointedly.

“Mhmm. Very beautiful.” You repeat, ignoring her little biology lesson as you trace your fingers over her curves.

She traps her tongue between her teeth as she smiles down at you, before leaning back in for a bruising kiss.

“You might be my favourite straight girl.” She tells you, and you roll your eyes.

“Might be?” You ask, feigning offence as you push her back up.

“You’re in the top three.” She tells you, smirking.

“Woww.” You draw out sarcastically. “That’s very charitable of you, thanks.”

She chuckles to herself, collapsing back down to run her lips across your chest. She starts trailing lower, and you can tell where she’s heading. She’s already seen to you once this morning, she’s done more than enough. You’d like to repay the favour. Frankly, you could do with a rest.

You grip at her thighs to flip her over, and the smile on her face as you do, has you kicking yourself for not doing it sooner.

“Are you okay?” She asks as your eyes roam over her face.

“Mhmm.” You nod. “I remember ..really enjoying something last night.” You admit, a little cautiously.

“Yeah? I remember you enjoying it too.”

“Did ..did you enjoy it?”

“Mhmm.” She murmurs, and you can feel her body shifting beneath you. “You’re very good with your tongue.”

“Really?” You ask, a little too enthusiastically, as a tiny thrill courses right through you. You have to fight every instinct not to wet your own lips with it as she nods, that small smirk coming back into view. “Did it feel good?”

“Yes.”

“You tasted good.” You breathe, clenching your jaw slightly.

“Are you still claiming to be straight?” She chuckles, her eyebrow arching.

“Mm.” You laugh, collapsing back into her for a kiss. “It’s hanging by a thread.” You admit, smiling into her as her lips move against yours. “Do you want me to?” You ask, a knowing look on your face.

“Yes.” She admits, her back arching as she readjusts herself for you.

“Yes ..what?”

She shakes her head, with a disbelieving smile. Maybe you’re in love with this stranger. Maybe she feels it too.

“..Please.” She whispers, and you don’t need asking twice.

________________

The walk back to the elevator, has no reason being as painful as it is. Even after a morning together between the sheets, a shared shower before a very late breakfast. You’ve still only known this woman a little over 12 hours. You’ve learnt absolutely nothing about her personal life, who she is, why she’s here, whether she’ll ever be back. She knows nothing about you. It isn’t right for there to be a connection between you, when you have no fundamental knowledge of each other. You could have literally nothing in common, and your heart’s tearing itself in two at the thought of her leaving for another country.

Neither of you want to say goodbye to each other. That much is obvious as you tangle your fingers with hers and stare at the button for the lift. Both elevators are on the bottom floor, you’ll still have a few minutes together even if you request it now. You can’t draw an eternity out of a few minutes, but you can savour them. It’s like setting a little timer for you as you press the button. The lift starts its ascension up the floors and the seconds you still have together start to decrease.

“This is insane.” You admit to her, your eyes beginning to sting. “I shouldn’t hate leaving you this much, I don’t even know who you are!”

“I know.” She tells you, with the same shaky breath as you.

She pulls you into her embrace and you cling to the fabric of her sweatshirt for dear life. She’s given you one of her sweatshirts, to stop you looking too dishevelled as you do the walk of shame back home. It’s a bit oversized on you, and she told you you looked adorable when you had to roll the sleeves up a couple times to free your hands.

You sort of wish she’d stop being so sweet to you. Go back to being the annoying woman that had her lips on someone else. Go back to being the weirdly confusing woman with the salt and the limes. Do anything to make saying goodbye to each other just a tiny bit more bearable.

“Imagine if you weren’t straight,” she whispers to the side of your head, “imagine the breakdown you’d be having then!”

She’s an idiot, and it does manage to make you laugh, as warm tears escape your eyes, and you bury your head further into her neck.

She’s not straight, you remember. So, maybe it’s a subtle confession of her own struggle she’s having with you parting ways. She is holding you impossibly tight, like you’ll disappear from right in front of her in a puff of smoke, if she loosens her grip even slightly.

The elevator seems to be soaring through the levels without any people in it. It’s a far more rapid process than it was when it was holding the pair of you hostage last night. That isn’t fair. Who designed that?

“It’s going to be the longest journey of my life going back down without you.” You mumble against her.

“Hopefully you don’t bump into your best friend on the way!”

“For fuck’s sake!” You laugh, pulling yourself from her and wiping at your eyes with your sleeve. “That evil cow!” You let out a sigh and shake your head. “She’ll be fine with me today, to be fair. I’m straight again now!”

“Oh, of course! You can agree with each other about it being disgusting, then!”

“Mm. I mean ..we did do some pretty disgusting things to each other.” You remind her smugly.

“I’m sure she’ll appreciate you giving her all the details.” She winks, and you grin as you pull her back into a hug.

“I really enjoyed it.” You confess to her, quietly. “I really enjoyed being with you.”

“Me too.”

The ding of the elevator signals that your time is up. The moment you’ve been dreading, has finally arrived. You head straight in. You don’t know if it’s better to get a clean break, or prolong the inevitable for as long as possible. The doors start closing, and her foot appears in the gap to keep you for a moment longer.

She fists her hands in her sweatshirt you’re wearing and kisses you across the threshold. It’s one that catches you off guard, but you match the passion in it as soon as you realise what’s happening. The doors try closing on you a few times, but you keep blocking them with a hand. You’re not letting them steal your moment.

She breaks the kiss but keeps her grip on you. You can see the tears in her eyes, feel the ones in yours. It’s ridiculous. You catch one with your thumb as it starts to roll down her cheek and you place a kiss to where you broke its fall.

“If you’re ever back in London..” you tell her, a small smirk on your face, “just ask around for my initial. I’m sure someone will lead you back to me!”

“I’ll have to try.” She tells you earnestly, letting go of your sweatshirt and smoothing it back down for you.

“I really need to go. It’s not possible to make this any easier.” You tell her, pushing her back as the doors start their final closing attempt. “Don’t forget me!”

“I won’t remember anything else.” She tells you, as the doors close, and neither of you have chance to change your minds.

It shouldn’t hurt like this. It was a one-night stand. They’re not rare. The pair of you crying after a single night together? That’s rare. That’s ridiculous.

Collapsing in on yourself as you try to catch your breath without her? That’s insanity.

The tears flow freely as you hold yourself up against the side of the elevator. You pull the neckline of her sweatshirt up over your nose and breathe her in. Playing make believe in your head, that she’s still with you. It’s a souvenir you’ll treasure. A living memory. Proof that it wasn’t a dream, and it certainly wasn’t a nightmare. It was your perfect little night, wrapped up with the world’s most perfect woman. The woman who’s running off back to Spain with your heart in her hand luggage.

All this longing, this desire, this love, for a woman that you barely know. A woman you have no hope in ever finding again. A woman you’ve fallen head over heels for, despite being straight. Straight straight straight.

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #woso imagine #alexia putellas imagine

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g1rld1ary · 3 months

Text

you never disappointed me - part three

part one part two part three part four

➻ synopsis: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader ; after beckendorf does some research with silena, luke finally knows how to ask you out (10 things I about you AU)

➻ word count: 2642

➻ warnings: ooc/kind of loser!luke, ooc silena, she/her pronouns used for reader, sexual innuendos, alcohol, smoking

➻ so i immediately got hit with a ton of uni work lols (so mean for first week??) so this took a little longer than expected sorries!!

TAGLIST: @myxticmoon @wicca-void @leeknows-wife @thekittyxo-blog @number-onekidqueen @instabull @slaybestieslay946 @sflame15-blog @yourfavmiki @ivory-sage

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

While you were being tormented by the two boys Camp Half-Blood (or maybe your mom?) kept sending your way, Charles was following Silena around like a lost puppy, noting down whatever she could find about you in your limited personal space in the Aphrodite cabin. After several minutes of nothing promising, he was starting to feel hopeless.

“She’s not a…” Beckendorf trailed off, looking for more delicate phrasing.

“Girl in Red fan? No. I found a picture of Heath Ledger under her bunk once so I’m pretty sure she’s not harbouring any queer feelings.”

“So that’s the kind of guy she likes? Pretty guys?”

“I don’t know,” Silena said impetuously, “All I’ve ever heard her say is that she’d die before dating a guy that smokes.” Beckendorf cringed. That was an issue. Silena continued mindlessly, digging through your drawers and belongings. She pulled out your reading list, planner and a sticky note of things you were going to do when you left after summer. Finally, Silena let out a devious giggle as she dug through your top drawer. She didn’t let Beckendorf wonder for long, as she pulled out a pretty pair of lacy black underwear.

It wasn’t the most scandalous piece of lingerie sitting in that cabin — not by far, but Beckendorf still blushed like the teenage boy he was, almost too afraid to look at the scrap of fabric.

“And, uh, what does that tell us?” He asked, eyes anywhere but the cloth.

“She wants to have sex someday, that’s what,” She said it as if it were obvious, and Beckendorf wished a hole would open up and swallow him down. He really didn’t want to be talking about your sexual desire right now.

“She might just like the colour?” He mumbled, hand running over his hair in an effort to ground him.

“You don’t buy black lingerie unless you want someone to see it.” Beckendorf felt kind of guilty, he figured he probably wasn’t who you had in mind when buying black lingerie, and it was starting to feel like a serious invasion of privacy. That was only heightened when Silena pointedly avoided telling him which area was hers, saying it was ‘private’. He rationalised his actions by praying to the Gods the plan would work and everyone would get a happy ever after.

Still, Percy and Beckendorf took this research to Luke in his semi-secret spot behind the training arena, where he could drink and smoke without being worried about being caught by the younger kids or Chiron. He didn’t look exactly happy to see them, but Beckendorf thought he might just be warming up to them.

“So, what’ve you got for me?” He asked, taking a swig of his beer.

“Insights into a very complicated girl,” Percy said, dislike of you obvious.

“Just one question,” Beckendorf asked “Should you be drinking if you don’t have a liver?” One of his new brothers had told him the rumour that Luke had sold his liver on the black market during his quest for a pack of cigarettes and a ticket back to camp.

“She hates smokers!” Percy interrupted, hopefully before Luke could process what Beckendorf had said, and very successfully redirected his focus as Beckendorf grabbed the lit cigarette out of his hand, snuffing it out on the dirt.

“So I’m a… non-smoker now?” Luke spat the words, sounding almost disgusted with himself.

“Just for now,” Beckendorf assured him. “And one more problem — Silena said that she likes ‘pretty guys’.” A tense silence fell upon them and Charles wished that sometimes he would think before he spoke. Luke’s gaze on him was heavy and intimidating, and if Percy wasn’t there with him Beckendorf probably would have cowered and escaped.

“Are you telling me I’m not a pretty guy?” Luke asked, and if he had to say, Beckendorf thought his attitude right now definitely wasn’t helping his case. He and Percy shared a quick look before reassuring Luke that he absolutely was a pretty guy, they just had limited experience in deciding those labels. Satisfied, Luke glanced at the list Beckendorf handed him of all of your interests and engagements. He frowned, and both the younger boys exchanged uneasy eye contact.

“So what, I’m supposed to buy her noodles and books and sit around listening to some shitty girl power band?” He asked, dread and boredom evident in his eyes.

“Have you ever been to Club Skunk? Her favourite band is playing there tomorrow night,” Beckendorf provided, disheartened by the quick shake of Luke’s head.

“I cannot be seen at Club Skunk.”

“But she’s gonna be there! She’s got tickets!” He protested, and Percy put a subtle hand on his arm.

“Dude, everyone you know is here. No one’s gonna see you at Club Skunk and think you’re less of a man or whatever. I’ll tell everyone you’re off in the woods smoking weed or something.” Luke looked at them for a long moment, seemingly considering the offer. Finally he agreed, and Beckendorf thought it may have just been to get them to go away, but he was happy enough.

Luke, having gotten over the humiliation it would be to go to Club Skunk, was more than interested at the new piece of information he’d just learned. He thought he was the only one who snuck out of camp, and he wondered how often you did it. Reasonably frequently, he guessed, since you were going to all the trouble to see a band that probably played around the state constantly. You just kept on surprising him, and though it was all a bit of an effort on his part, he had started to enjoy getting to know the parts of you that you kept hidden behind the icy exterior.

You, on the other hand, were getting really weirded out. You might’ve just been paranoid, but you were sure that the new Hephaestus kid who was friends with Percy kept staring at you. Even Percy glanced at you more than once during dinner, something you didn’t think had ever happened before — and you were not looking for attention from the camp’s golden boy, no matter how many times he’d probably saved your life by extension of his quests. Those two, coupled with Luke, whose attentions had inexplicably been focused on you for the last week, made you feel a bit like an animal on display; violently uncomfortable. As you left the meal you shot Beckendorf a nasty glare, somewhat satisfied when he jumped and averted his eyes. You shook your head in a physical attempt to clear the burdens of your thoughts. Soon you wouldn’t have to worry about any of the campers or the stupidity that flowed around the grounds.

About twenty minutes after the campfire started and the rest of the camp were safely together, you began the trek up to the Hamptons — the closest city with a venue. You waited anxiously for the bus to pick you up outside the camp lines, looking over your shoulder to ensure no one had caught you. If your adventures got around camp then Silena would absolutely tell your father as payback for being the reason she can’t date, and that was a whole new set of issues you really didn’t care to deal with. Luke, standing in the shadows watching, felt almost bad for spying on you. Almost.

You could feel your shoulders relax as you got further and further away from camp, the judgement and expectations of people you didn’t even like far behind you for the night. You’d been looking forward to this show since you got tickets with your friends during the school term, and you were determined to make it worth the pain of summer. And it really, really was. Your whole friend group had made it, making it a long awaited reunion, and the band was one you’d been following for years. You danced with all your energy, gleefully shouting lyrics and laughing loudly when you got them terribly wrong.

Luke watched this from his seat at the bar, entranced in your private bubble amongst the chaos. You were smiling — a rare sight at all at camp — but this was one he didn’t think he’d ever seen in all his years of knowing you. It wasn’t filled with pride like the ones you tried to conceal when you got a new record on the climbing wall or you finally beat Clarisse in a training match, nor was it the satisfied smirk you had when you put an egotistical camper in their place or beat up jerks like Ethan. Your smile was alight with joy; relaxed and wholehearted happiness that spread through the room and seemed infectious to anyone who passed you.

It was at that moment that Luke truly understood how you were a daughter of Aphrodite. The way the lights reflected off your hair and your eyes, the easy way you moved your body to the music, everything about you suddenly seemed perfect, and he wondered how he’d never noticed it before. Your appearance hadn’t changed drastically; your hair was loose instead of the practical up-do needed for camp, you wore a tight fitted crop top instead of the camp shirt and you might’ve had some glitter smeared around your eyes. All inconspicuous, ordinary things, yet you seemed like a brand new person. Luke decided he liked this version of you, and if this whole plan failed, at least he’d gotten a glimpse into your real world and behind the facade you hid with at camp.

He was ripped from his thoughts when he saw you make a drinking gesture to your friend, heading towards him unwittingly. He turned in his seat hurriedly, trying to act cool and unaware. You spotted him almost immediately, persona switching up as disgust crept back under your skin.

“If you’re going to ask me out again, could you just get it over with now so I can get back to enjoying my night?” You sighed, grabbing the water bottles from the bartender.

“Would you mind? You’re kind of ruining this for me.” Luke gestured around, hoping his acting chops were as good as he needed. You ignored it either way.

“You’re not surrounded by your usual cloud of smoke,” You noted, curiosity getting the better of you.

“I quit. Apparently they’re bad for you.” You raised an eyebrow, almost too surprised to come up with a quip.

“You did?” You hated how genuine it sounded and turned to go, sensing him get up to follow you.

“You know, I was watching you out there before,” He yelled over the music, “I’ve never seen you look so sexy.” In possibly the worst timing in history, the song ended and the entire club was treated to Luke’s compliment. You both flushed red, and you were unable to contain a small giggle — wildly uncharacteristic for you. Luke, to his credit, only had a mildly sheepish grin on his face, and continued to follow you across the dance floor. “Come to the Apollo party with me.” You couldn’t believe him! Here you were, miles from camp and he was still asking you out. Though, you couldn’t deny that he wasn’t quite as infuriating as you originally thought.

“You never give up, do you?” You gave a good natured sigh, ducking under someone’s arm to get to your friends.

“Was that a yes?”

“No.”

“Was it a no?”

“No!” You let out another laugh which floated over the crowd and straight to Luke. He couldn’t contain his own grin.

“I’ll pick you up at 9:30!” He yelled back. You gave no indication of having heard him apart from a momentary glance, and he couldn’t tell if the smile was directed at him or just a byproduct of your situation. He took it either way.

Having gone to the effort of sneaking away from camp, Luke decided to stay for the remainder of the concert and grudgingly decided the band wasn’t that bad. Not his style, sure, but he could kind of see why you liked them. Besides, these drinks were easier to get than the contraband ones he had to smuggle into camp.

Tired from a night on your feet dancing and feeling your pleasant buzz slipping away, you were less than charmed seeing Luke waiting for your bus. It made sense, obviously you were going the same place, but you didn’t want him to ruin your great night by pestering you about a date.

“What are you doing here?” You asked bluntly, eagerly sitting on the misshapen little bench.

“Getting home?” He trailed off, unsure of what you were looking for. “Besides, we’re a long way from camp and it’s late. Didn’t feel right leaving you here alone.” You hated that you thought it was sweet.

“Do you not think I can take care of myself?” You picked a fight instead, unwilling to be genuine with him. Luke wasn’t stupid enough to fall for it.

“I have complete faith in you,” He laughed, “I’m making sure you don’t kill whoever bothers you.” You let out a snort of a laugh accidentally. You tried to recover,

“It’ll be you if you’re not careful.” Somehow Luke didn’t believe you.

Surprisingly, the trip was almost pleasant. Luke had already gotten what he wanted from the night and the next phase of his plan was shaping up, so he knew bringing up your impending date would only sour your mood. Instead, when he plonked himself down in the seat next to you on the bus, you talked about mundane, silly things. He asked about the friends you were with and let you talk about your life in New York, waving you off when you started to feel guilty since he was at camp all year.

“There’s this really cool record store, we go there all the time. They have this huge bulletin board on one wall where these tiny little bands put up posters for random gigs with, like, fifty people there — it’s so sick, like the 90s I guess. Maybe —” You cut yourself off but Luke knew where you were going. Maybe I could show you. You would deny it if he brought it up, but he couldn’t contain his smile either way.

You were surprised that you had so much to talk about, briefly wondering why you’d never been friends with him before, but the conversation continued all the way to the camp border, where you both knew the risk of sneaking back in meant your night together was over. Once you got into camp there’d be people all around; campers should be in bed but counsellors often patrolled for a while, and many of the non-demigod folks around camp could be up and about well into the early hours of the morning.

“So, um, I’ll see you around?” His sudden shyness was unexpectedly charming, and you found yourself giving Luke a smile — a real one that made his heart flutter embarrassingly.

“Bye, Luke.” You held eye contact for a fraction longer than necessary before disappearing into the shadows. Luke watched you go, not quite starstruck but close to it. A rustle of the trees behind him spurred him into action, but the image of you on the dance floor played on repeat behind his eyes as he lay in his bunk.

#giasfics˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀#love #fluff #luke castellan #pjo series #percy series #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson show #percy jackson tv show #pjo #luke castellan pjo #pjo tv show #pjo fandom #percy jackson #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan fanfiction #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you

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im-sleepdeprived · 5 days

Note

Can you write something about co-workers to friends to lovers?

fix you up

pairing: peter parker x reader

a/n: i won’t lie to y’all idk how i feel abt this one. its cute dgmw but i hope you guys like it !!! ive had this request for an EMBARRASSINGLY long time, anon if you’re upset, i totally understand

warnings: mentions of injuries, burns, rude customers, bandaging some wounds n stuff, fluff and pining !!! (disclaimer: I’ve never been a barista so forgive me if this is a lil off)

masterlist, requests are open !!

Working in a rustic-vintage-corner-campus-cafe was definitely not how you saw your college years going. Your teen self would’ve killed to work at a place like this but when you grew up, you realized just how different the workload is between a high school student and a uni one such as yourself.

You weren’t complaining of course. The pay was adequate, your manager was a simple old lady who never had much to say other than making sure all the equipment was clean, you got along with your coworkers pretty well for the most part and the customers were tolerable.

But every once in a while, you’d get an entitled shithead who seemed to make it their life’s mission to ruin someone else’s day. And the problem with working a social job such as you did, is that you were an easy target.

It started off as a fairly simple day, you clocked in and put on your apron ready to start your shift for the day. You preferred late morning shifts, leaving afternoons for classes (and the rouge 8am lecture every now and then) and nights for going out or studying.

“Oh, Y/N! Thank god you're here,” Your co-worker, Vanessa, exclaimed.

Vanessa was a few years older than you. She actually wasn’t a student, she’d given college a try and it wasn’t her thing. Apparently, all it did was “try to undermine unstoppable greatness.” She was chatty, but you actually liked that about her. She could keep up a conversation with a statue. When you first started off here she’d been the one to show you the ropes and ever since then, you’d had a specific bond with her that you couldn’t really put a name to.

You gave her a small smile, “Yeah well, I do prefer to show up when promised. Especially when my paycheck depends on it,” you let out a small laugh.

“Yes! See, that's what I love about you,” she made a disgusted face, “Unlike Peter. Honestly, I don't understand how he hasn’t been fired yet! He shows up at least half an hour late to every shift yet Miss Hannigan still keeps him around.”

“Oh,” you stuttered, raising your hands a little in defense, “I didn't mean it as a jab at Peter, I swear.”

She tossed a curled blonde lock of hair over her shoulders while waving her other hand in dismissal, “Honey, don’t worry about it. I know you would never, you’re far too sweet for that. But I wouldn’t blame you if you did, you know, having to work more than half your shift alone? I swear if Bernard did that to me,” she made a big show of gesturing to herself, "I would not deal with it.”

While what she was saying wasn’t necessarily wrong, it didn’t feel right talking about Peter like that. Sure, he was late most of the time, leaving you to do most of the work while you waited for him to show up (somehow when he started working you two got the same shift together and it’s just been that way ever since) and while you, also, normally wouldn’t put up with this, there was something different about Peter. You never felt like he was taking advantage of you, and purposefully made you pick up extra slack. It was quite the opposite actually, he always apologized profusely and never slacked when he was on the clock. He always seemed so rushed and out of breath, you were pretty sure the poor boy just needed to learn how to manage time better. Plus, he always took it upon himself to unpack the orders because of all the heavy lifting required (you couldn’t tell just by looking at him, with all the sweaters he wore, but man was he ripped.)

“He’s actually really sweet.” You’re not sure why exactly you’re so keen on defending Peter. You two barely spoke, outside of work of course, and you don’t know much about him. But something inside you didn’t like anyone assuming anything bad about him.

“Yea, well, he’d be a ton sweeter if he clocked in on time,” she laughed as she untied her apron, getting ready to leave. You faked a laugh as well, not wanting the conversation to progress any further.

“Alrighty, well,” she heaved a breath, “I'm off, have a good rest of your day Y/N.”

You smiled once again and sent a wave her way before settling down in front of the register. It was slow today, not many people in the shop. A fellow student you only recognized from work sat in a corner booth with their headphones locked in and was working on what seemed to be some kind of essay.

There was an older woman, however, looking incredibly irritated at the table closest to you. You’d never seen her before but that wasn’t too strange. It was a near-campus cafe, after all, lots of people passing through. She looked to be typing on her phone until, suddenly, she shut it off and made direct eye contact with you.

If looks could kill, you would’ve dropped dead behind the counter, which wouldn’t be all that ideal considering you couldn’t remember the last time anyone mopped that side of the store.

She stood up and walked towards you and you already dreaded the conversation to come.

“I have an order,” she spit out, as if she were disgusted to even be talking to you at the moment.

No greeting or anything, wow. Someone wasn’t raised right.

Nonetheless, you put on your well-rehearsed customer service smile and gave in. “Sure, I’d be happy to help with that. Can you just give me the order?”

She rolled her eyes dramatically. “I shouldn’t have to, I called in and placed it and it should be ready by now. I'm going to be late!”

You froze for a moment, not quite sure what to do, “I’m so sorry for the inconvenience ma’am, but I just got here and I haven’t heard anything,” you glance at the little whiteboard kept on the counter for these exact situations only to find it empty, “and I don’t see anything here about a phone-placed order. Are you sure you have the right store?”

Her face was so red and steam was practically blowing out of her ears, “Of course, I have the right store! Do you think I'm stupid or something?”

“No! Of course not, I'm so sorry,” you start to blabber off, not wanting to make her any angrier than she already was, “I’ll get things ready for you right away ma’am.”

You turned around and tried to make yourself not freak out as badly as you wanted to. It was so humiliating getting yelled at like this in public! And yeah, maybe if you had such a problem with unpleasant interactions like this, you shouldn't have taken a social job such as this one, but honestly, you thought people would have enough manners not to act up like this. Apparently not.

It slipped your mind for a moment because of how scrambled you got when the lady flipped her lid, but Vanessa has been known to do this, forget to write down orders and leave you to fend for yourself (quite literally since your coworker was never really around) and you’re pretty sure that’s what happened here. Other customers were usually more understanding than this woman bordering on Kathy-Bates-movie-character-insanity over a drink order.

You reached into your back pocket, deciding you’d try to send her a hurried text about any phone calls she might remember. That just seemed to anger your customer more.

“Excuse me?! I'm sitting here waiting for my order and you're too busy chatting away on your phone?”

You lose yourself for a moment and you can’t feel your face anymore.

“I am so sorry ma’am,” you repeat, which seems to be your mantra since you started working today, “I was just checking to see if-,”

“I don't care what you were checking, or what you need to see! Give me what I paid for,” her hand started smacking against the counter loud enough for the only other person in the store to look up, broken from their reverie. They merely shot you an apologetic look before getting back to their work, leaving you to fend for yourself.

“You have terrible customer service, honestly. I come here every Tuesday with my book club, but never again. If I don’t get exactly what I asked for in the next five minutes, I'm calling your boss and not leaving until I'm sure you’re fired.”

You shake your head, “There’s no need to do that ma’am, I'll get everything ready for you.”

You turned around once again, this time, heading towards the cappuccino machine. You’re not sure why you said that considering you have no clue what ‘everything’ is that has to get ready.

In all honesty, there’s a low chance that a suburban-white-soccer-mom type would have any real effect on your employment. Miss Hannigan would surely not fire you just because some order forgot to be written down and some customer got pissed. Right?

But you really didn’t want to find out.

So, you started up the machine and turned to grab a cup. Today, apparently, was just doomed from the start. As you turned to grab one of the cups placed on the shelf over the machine, your hand hit the button that turned on the steam wand. Which was aimed directly at your other hand.

You bit down the yelp that threatened to escape and jumped back, the back of your hand now searing with pain. Instinctively, your other hand came to cup your injured one, which only made it worse. You fought back tears as you moved to turn the steam back off.

Inhaling deeply, you took a moment to try to get your mind working again. “Hello?!” Of course. You turned your head and gave her the fakest smile you’ve ever mustered in your whole life. “One minute ma’am.”

You could hear her going off about how she doesn’t have a minute to spare, but you ignored her, trying to think of what the hell you could give her to just get her out of your face. You’d have to guess her order since I wasn’t actually taken. You’d started playing a game with yourself since you worked here, guessing people's drink orders, and you’d say you’ve gotten pretty good.

You peeked a look back at her. You’d had customers around her age come in before and order, for the most part, the same thing. A plain cappuccino. Seemed like a safe bet.

Swallowing down the pain as best you could, you approached the machine again. This time, taking out the portafilter. It must’ve not been put in correctly because it clattered to the ground, coffee grinds falling around the floor.

You wanted to cry. Your hand hurt like hell, there was a new mess to deal with, and that lady hadn’t stopped complaining since you stepped in.

Frozen, you began to panic a little, breaths coming out sporadically. You’d leave the sweeping for later, but you had to clean the filter so you could use it because it was the only one. And the slightest brush of air made your hand burn even more. You had no clue how to go about this. Maybe if you-

Like an angel, Peter rushed in through the side door. Tying his apron around his waist, he looked towards you. Your hand flew up to your mouth at his perfect timing and you saw his expression grow more concerned.

He rushed towards you. “What happened?” And for a second, you forget everything that was stressing you out just a few moments before. He grabbed your hand so gently, you forgot every ounce of pain.

“I cannot believe this!” She wasn’t giving up and you shut your eyes in frustration, turning to reply to her again. But before you can open your mouth, Peter steps in. “Hold on, can’t you clearly see she’s hurt?”

She scoffed and crossed her arms, “That’s her fault. If she knew how to do her job, it wouldn’t have happened.”

You could feel the anger rolling off him in waves. His expression hardened and his mouth opened to shoot something back at her, but this time, you cut him off. You placed your non-injured hand on his shoulder and gave him a look.

He stared at you for a few seconds before finally giving in, blowing out some air in a frustrated huff. “Go wait for me inside,” he told you, nodding his head toward the employees-only backroom.

“What?” You asked confused. You didn’t wanna leave him alone.

“You’re not working right now, there’s no way I’m letting you. I’ll deal with her. Go, I’ll be right there,” he said, shoving you away gently.

Once you heard that he’d be following you, you were more willing. You walked through the door and took a seat at the table usually used for meal breaks. The ‘break room’ was a small room positioned in the back of the store. You can’t remember what this place used to be (a diner maybe?) but this specific room was used as an office, but Miss Hannigan claimed she had no use for an office so it was used for employee breaks.

Every ounce of you was grateful for Peter’s Superman moment back there. He came in today earlier than usual and he’d totally saved your ass. You were going to make sure to tell him.

You weren’t waiting long before the door opened again and Peter walked in, holding a backpack you hadn’t seen on him before. In his other hand, he held a drink. He placed the drink on the table before he grabbed one of the chairs, bringing it close to yours, and you turned your body to face him.

He picked up your hand again, just as gently as before. “Alright,” he let out a breath of relief, “it’s not as bad as I thought, but, it’s still gonna take a while to heal. Wait,” he leaned over, unzipping his bag and taking supplies out while you just stared at him.

“I thought you majored in biochemistry.” You blurted out. Your face heated up a little when he looked at you curiously.

“I- I saw your textbooks once when you left your bag open. And I’ve seen you around campus, near the science-y buildings…and stuff.” You shrugged and he chuckled.

“I do,” he nodded, “any medical stuff is self-taught. I get into a lot of…accidents.”

“Oh.” You nodded at him. What kind of accidents would he get into? You’d never seen him hurt, but what did you know.

“I take it you don’t major in anything science-y,” he said, grinning at you.

You shook your head, “No, I don’t. But I have a chemistry class I have to take for credit. Which makes no sense because chemistry has nothing to do with what I want to learn.”

He laughed and set his bag back down, everything he needed was now laid out on the table. “Okay,” he picked up a white tube with red lettering on it. “This is gonna help with pain and scarring. I’m going to spread some of this, then wrap it up for you.” You looked at the table and saw he’d also taken out some white gauze. What kind of ‘accidents’ did he get into?

You nodded, at a complete loss for words. You had no idea Peter knew so much about injuries and you were so thankful he was helping you out. You didn’t hate each other, but you weren’t close either.

He applied a small amount to the back of your hand, asking you constantly if you were okay as he rubbed it on softly. Honestly, even if it did hurt, you wouldn’t have the heart to tell him.

He finished up with the cream and moved onto the gauze, expertly wrapping it up to lightly cover your wound. When he was finished with that, he carefully tied it off, making sure not to tie it too tight.

“There,” he leaned back and smiled at you, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. “All fixed up.”

“Thank you, Peter, really.” You reluctantly pulled your hand back into your lap, missing the warmth of his fingers wrapped around it.

“You don’t need to thank me Y/N, it’s the least I could do. I’m just glad I got here earlier than usual.”

You nodded and looked down. “Well thanks anyway, you saved my ass back there. Seriously, I have no idea what’s wrong with me today but I kept fucking everything up.”

“Hey,” he said softly, making you look up and meet his gaze. “You didn’t fuck anything up. Okay? You made a few mistakes, but that's not your fault. She shouldn’t have been treating you like that, especially when you’d hurt yourself.” He looked away and scoffed as he remembered the terrible customer that had ruined your morning. You would’ve felt extremely touched by his care if it weren’t for his next words.

“All that for a plain fucking cappuccino.” He mumbled.

“A plain cappuccino? Really?” You asked excitedly, forgetting about everything, and grinning at him wildly.

“Um, yeah…why?” He asked you, confusion was written all over his face, but he couldn’t help his own smile slightly growing when he noticed your enthusiasm.

“Nothing,” you shook your head quickly, smile never fading, “I just…well, I play this game with myself where I guess people's drink orders. And I think I’m getting pretty good because that’s exactly what I was going to make her before you walked in.”

He laughed out loud and you joined in. “What’s my order?” He asked.

You paused for a moment. “A caramel macchiato with extra caramel.”

He looked at you for a bit, “Close,” he admitted. “It used to be.”

“So are you gonna tell me what it is now?”

Shaking his head, he leaned over the table and dragged the drink he’d brought in earlier in front of you. “Here,” he changed the subject, “I made you this.”

You’d completely forgotten about it, and when you took a closer look, you realized it was your coffee order.

Your mouth fell open, “How’d you know?”

He just shrugged, smiling slightly. He knew it was your favorite, but the confirmation was still nice. “I've seen you make it for yourself. Educated guess.”

“Oh my god,” you said, voice soft. It was a simple thing really, you had one most days at the end of your shift. But the fact that he’d noticed… It just meant a lot. “Thank you so much, Peter.”

He just waved you off, his smile growing when he noticed your reaction to the drink. He couldn’t believe he got a chance to speak to you. Truly speak to you. He was always too awkward or embarrassed or trying to avoid embarrassment. But now, while he didn’t like the circumstances that led you both here, he was actually talking to you. And it was nice.

“So,” he started, not wanting this to end just yet, “you said you’ve got a chemistry class?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, picking up your drink and taking a sip. “The one with Professor Hall. I actually have a class after this shift. I totally suck though, and he hates me. I just don’t get it, and he doesn’t explain it well!”

Peter nodded, completely understanding what you meant. It was a tough subject to begin with, and he knew not everyone was as into science as he was, add onto that a teacher who doesn’t really teach, it’s a recipe for disaster.

“I actually had that class. Last year. I can help you, sometimes. If you’d like me to, that is!” He rushed out. Great, he thought, now I’m getting awkward.

You looked up at him, eyes wide. “Really? Do you mean that?”

“Of course. I think I’ve still got my notes too, if you want ‘em.” He shrugged nonchalantly as if he wasn’t saving your ass again.

“Oh my god Peter,” you placed your non-injured hand on his knee, not noticing the way his body stiffened and he gulped. “That would help so much. There’s a huge exam coming up, and it's a huge part of my grade so I have to pass. I started cramming earlier but—”

“I’ll help,” he reassured you, “I enjoy science anyway, so it’ll be fun for me.”

“Thank you,” you repeated. Staring at him so close, you realized you’d never noticed how handsome he was. Sure there were times you thought he was cute, from afar, but now…you could see the different shades of brown in his eyes, the way one of his eyebrows was slightly curlier than the other, unwilling to sit straight. You couldn’t help but stare-

“Oh my god,” you repeated, except this time, you had remembered something. “If we’re both in here, who’s outside?”

“What? Oh, um,” he scratched the back of his neck, still reeling from having you so close to him. “Freddy’s out there?”

“Freddy?” You asked confused.

He nodded. “The guy writing on his laptop, he’s friends with my roommate, throws the craziest parties. He’s chill, I told him to keep an eye out if someone else walks in. But it’s been slow, so I think we’re good.”

“Oh, okay.” You said, standing up. “We should probably still go though.”

He stood up beside you, frowning. “I don’t think you should work with your hand hurt. I don’t want you accidentally making it worse.”

Your heart warmed at his concern. “That's really sweet Peter, but I’ll be fine. I don’t know what happened before, I never do stuff like that, even accidentally.”

He still didn’t look convinced. “Why don’t you just go home? I can take it for today.”

You shook your head quickly, “I’m not leaving. I have a class later and it would just be a waste of time going back and forth anyway.”

You walked towards the door, opened it, and exited before he had a chance to argue anymore. You stepped behind the counter while Peter rushed out behind you. You watched Freddy give him a thumbs up and Peter nodded at him before he followed right after you.

“Are you sure you should go to class today? I can walk you home so you can take the day off,” he offered, and he looked so genuine you almost accepted.

“Peter,” you laughed and he decided no matter what your response was, it wouldn’t matter because hearing you say his name like that was enough. “I’ll be fine, I didn’t break both my legs, it's just a small burn.”

He stared at you for a bit as you smiled at him, trying to get him to ease up. “Fine,” he gave in reluctantly. “But no going towards the cappuccino machine,” he waved a finger at you, “or the ovens. Or anything hot!”

“Fine,” you shot back, grinning wide and he couldn’t help but return it.

The rest of the morning had gone by easily and you thought maybe you didn’t have totally shit luck. Peter was way more fun than you ever thought he’d be and you wondered why you didn’t start talking to each other sooner.

It used to be silently working together but after those few moments in the break room, you guys were laughing your whole shift. He meant what he said, and he kept you away from anything that produced heat (which you told him was an insane boundary to set in a cafe) so you had extra time to make quips here and there.

You started playing your order-guessing game with him, teaching him certain traits that gave someone away:

“Side part, beanie, and a crossbody? Oh, he’s getting a tall, dark, americano for sure.”

“She’s getting tea. No coffee, just tea. Maybe with a little lemon wedge.”

And he started to get the hang of it.

“She looks like she drinks matchas right?” He said to you when a girl around your age walked in. He’d been right and you both laughed about it afterwards.

When your work shift ended, you were actually upset.

“I’ve got a class to get to,” you told him, lifting your bag onto your shoulder. You’d both cleaned up and gotten yourselves ready, now standing in front of the door. Something in you didn’t want to leave just yet, enjoying your time together far too much to end it so soon.

“Yeah…” he trailed off, you waited for him to continue but he hesitated.

“What is it?” You crossed your arms and smiled slightly, shifting your weight onto your other foot. He brought a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, “I just…well, I was just wondering—if it's okay with you of course!” He rushed out, quickly bringing his hands up. “That I could walk you to class?”

You laughed, “I’d love that Pete, thank you.” You turned to open the door to let you both out but he quickly moved forward, holding it open for you and motioning for you to move forward.

Looking back at him, you smiled and noticed his cheeks were a little red. How had you never noticed how adorable he was?

The walk back to campus wasn’t long but you learned a lot. He told you where he went to high school, his friends he still kept in touch with, his Aunt May, some funny moments from parties he’d been forced to attend by his roommate, and you laughed together.

You told him about the book you were currently reading, your life back home and your family, and why you chose to go to this college. He went along with your jokes, which made it all the more better for you. “I mean if you think about it,” you'd said, “it is so much easier to romanticize your life when your school campus is as pretty as this one, and that’s real motivation!”

The conversation flowed naturally between you two and it felt like you’d been friends for ages. He dropped you off outside of your class building with the promise of picking you up afterward so you two could study together.

“So I’ll be back here in an hour right,” he asked.

“Right,” you smiled at him. “And thanks again Pete, for everything.” You held up your bandaged hand, shaking it a little before setting it back down.

He shook his head quickly, “Don’t thank me for that. Really.”

You stared at him with a warm expression. “Bye Peter,” you waved as you turned to walk into your class.

“Bye Y/N,” he returned. He watched you walk through the doors, shooting him one last smile before you disappeared from view, before blowing out a breath of air.

He’d finally gotten a chance to talk to the girl he’d been crushing on for months, and he got to walk her to class! And they were meeting up afterward. After working so close to you and never having the guts to initiate a conversation, he’d settled for just admiring you from afar. But after today, there was nothing that could keep him away.

You were not having a good day.

You’d just found out that your chemistry exam was being bumped up to two days from now. Even with the early studying you’d done before, there was no way you could catch up with everything that fast. You were so overwhelmed you had completely forgotten Peter was waiting for you outside.

You walked out, your bottom lip stuck between your teeth, and you practically jumped out of your skin when someone placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, don’t worry,” he said, his voice soft yet full of concern. Peter. “It's just me. What happened?”

The second he saw you walk out, he could tell something was off. He could literally sense the anxiety rolling off of you in waves. He had waited for you to look up and stop when you saw him, but you were just about to walk past him before he stopped you. Now, you were looking at him with distress coating every feature on your face. Your brows were pinched, your lip red from biting it, and your eyes wide and distant like you couldn’t even see him and he was standing right in front of you. Something had gone wrong and he wanted nothing more than to fix it.

“What is it? What’s wrong? He asked frantically.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, hands flying up to the sides of your head and gripping your hair. You weren’t looking at him anymore, “Oh my god.”

“Ok Y/N,” he said nervously, “you’re starting to scare me.”

“Two days Peter!” You looked at him wildly. “Two days! I can’t go over everything in two days, is he fucking insane? I didn’t even know he could do something like that, I mean, can he do something like that? I feel like that shouldn’t be allowed it should—”

You cut yourself off and started pacing back and forth in front of him. “Oh my god, I’m gonna bomb this. And if I fail, it’ll bring my whole grade down! I can’t afford that I—”

“Hey,” he repeated, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder again. “I said I’m gonna help you, and I meant it. So we’re gonna get through this together, even if we have to stay up all night.”

You stared at him, trying to wonder what you’d done in your life to deserve such an angel.

You shook your head quickly, “I really appreciate that Peter, but I’m serious. There’s no way I can learn everything I need to know that fast.”

You tried to smile at him but it didn’t reach your eyes.

He grinned, his expression the total opposite of yours. “Well, you’ve clearly never studied with me, so don’t sound too sure yet.”

Another thing you’d come to realize was just how smart Peter was.

You really should’ve known when he told you he’d taken that advanced chemistry class a year ago. And passed.

Looking through his notes, you could see his attention to detail. He really wasn’t a slacker in the classroom because everything was clearly laid out here.

You’d spent that night going over everything and you’d actually started to feel hopeful about it. Peter was a way better teacher than Professor Hall, and it didn’t hurt that he was so cute. He was understanding with everything and was willing to go over any part for as long as it took for you to fully grasp it.

At the end of the night, he’d undone the wrappings around your hand, reapplied the cream for you, and wrapped it up again.

“It’s doing okay,” he reassured you. “Like I said, it’s gonna take a while, but if it starts hurting or anything, take some medicine. Then find me.”

You were sure you’d just melted into his hands at that moment.

The next day, you couldn’t wait to get through everything and see him again, even if you were going to be talking about chemistry.

You weren’t scheduled to work at the cafe today, so you’d only get to meet up after both of your classes.

Lectures were a blur, nothing really catching your attention and you spent most of the time with your phone tucked in your hand texting back and forth with Peter, barely concealing your laughter when he sent you memes.

It was like that all day, until, finally, you made your way over to his small apartment he shared with one of his friends.

its very quaint 🤌

(totally NOT what we say to make ourselves feel better about this shoebox)

He’d told you over text, making you laugh out loud as you made your way over there.

dw🫡 I was one of those kids who used to live in their play tents and hid in random corners and spaces

im totally ready for this

ok but be warned, we do not have a pet!!! they are not allowed per our lease!!! ignore the cat when you come in!!! tell no one!!!

what cat ??

good girl ;)

Your face flushed as you made your way up the steps to his door. You knocked three times and barely had to wait a second before Peter stood before you, holding the door open.

“Hi,” he said, smiling at you.

“Hi,” you grinned back. You heard a small ‘meow’ come from behind him and he quickly held up a finger to his lips. You covered your mouth, stifling a laugh as you nodded at him.

“Come on in,” he said, stepping out of the way to lead you through the door. You stepped in and kicked off your shoes before looking around. It was plain, but that was to be expected really.

There was a large poster hanging next to their TV, however, that caught your eye. “Big fan?” You asked him, shoving your thumb in the direction of the Star Wars poster.

He shrugged nonchalantly, “Kind of.”

“Oh. Well, I was just asking because I love those movies. My little brother used to watch them and I got really into it.”

“Oh. I mean—I don’t know what I was saying before I love them too.” He rushed out, making you giggle.

He stayed staring at you for a bit, his eyes rounding out and his mouth gaping a little bit.

You gave him a small smile, “Okay, well we should-” You let out a small yelp, hands flying to your mouth as you jumped back.

The living room was small. The only things occupying it were the TV mounted to the wall, and in front of it, was a sofa. And on the sofa, was an unconscious body that you hadn’t noticed until it let out a low groan. You really weren’t sure how you missed it, there wasn’t much else to look at, but they had just been so still.

Heart beating erratically, you turned towards Peter again, who was looking at you with all the amusement in the world written all over his face. “Was he always there,” you whispered, eyes wide.

He opened his arms, “Well, angel, I really don’t know. Did you see anyone come in?”

“Oh shut up,” you grumbled. “He looks familiar…is that..”

“Freddy.” He finished for you. Right. The dude from the cafe.

“He crashes here sometimes.” He added.

You nodded. “Alright.”

“Shall we?” He opened a door beside him and looked at you.

“Right. Yeah, of course.” You walked past him and into his room. You stopped after you entered, taking a moment to look around. His room was simple, with just his bed, a desk and chair, and a dresser perched next to another door you assumed was his closet.

What really caught your attention, however, were the photos scattered all over the walls. The room was practically engulfed in Peter Parker’s memories, and you really liked it. Without thinking, you approached one wall, walking through them and taking each one in.

There were some with large groups of people, those looked like school trips. Most of the photos were of the same two people, and based on what he’d told you, you assumed those were his friends. Ned and MJ.

A lot of the photos contained an older woman, who looked stunning. That had to be his Aunt May. You were shocked by how many photos he had with the Tony Stark. He’d told you he had an internship at Stark Industries, but really, you sorta thought he just went on coffee runs all day.

And then, you saw a couple shots of Spider-Man. It wasn’t unusual, you knew a lot of people snapped photos of the masked hero when they spotted him around the city. What was unusual, was the quality of the photos. You didn’t know if you’d ever seen such clear photos of him, even on the news, as he was always swinging and in motion. In these, Peter seemed to have caught him at just the right time. You wondered how long it took him to capture the photos.

“Big fan?” You smirked over at him from your spot by one of the Spider-Man photos as you repeated your words from earlier.

Peter leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, content with watching go over the details of his life. He felt a little naked, like he was bared out in front of you. But…it felt good too. He liked knowing you were learning new things about him, and curious to know more. It filled him with an anxious sort of giddiness.

“You first,” he said slyly.

Laughing, you said, “Well, I don’t see how anyone can hate on the guy. He literally runs around saving lives”

He laughed as he approached you, standing by your side. You’d be surprised. “True I guess.”

“We should get to studying,” you said, breezing past him, your hand brushing his bicep as you did. He sucked in a breath, his entire body feeling electrocuted after that one touch. He wondered how you seemed so normal, laying out your books and papers on the floor beside his bed.

This was gonna be a long night.

He cleared his throat and moved to sit across from you, hoping he didn’t look as flushed as he felt.

After a few moments of him watching you get settled, you heard him start laughing. Looking up you asked, “What’s so funny?”

That only made him laugh harder. “Just thinking about how scared you got before. Did you really not see him?”

You felt your face go hot. “I didn’t! I had no clue he was there, and next thing I know he’s making lawn mower nosies!”

Peter was red in the face now. “The way you flew back,” he said between fits of laughter, “I thought you’d give yourself whiplash.”

“Shut up,” you grumbled at him, picking up one of your pens and throwing it at him. It bounced off without him even flinching.

You looked down, avoiding his gaze by busying yourself with your papers.

“Okay I’m ready to be serious now,” he said. The laughter was gone but amusement twinkled in his voice.

“Great! Welcome back Pete, now hand me that pen, I’m gonna need it.”

Two hours later, you were both sprawled across the floor tossing Chess-Its at one another.

“Come on!” You threw your arms up in defeat when you threw another cracker at him just for him to catch it again.

Peter chuckled, “Sorry angel, I’ve just got killer reflexes.”

“Alright whatever,” You rolled your eyes. “Come on, throw some at me.”

You opened your mouth, ready to finally win one round of this nonsense…just for a Cheez-It to hit your cheek and fall to the ground with the rest of your tries.

Peter laughed while you sat up, reached to grab the box of crackers, and poured some into your hand before putting it back down.

“Okay, I’m done. I actually want to eat them now.” You said, munching on a cracker and sitting against the side of his bed.

“Oh come on, don’t be a quitter Y/N/N,” he grinned, leaning over and pinching your cheek.

You swatted his hand away with your empty one. “M’not.”

He smiled at you before sitting up. “Hit me,” he said, opening his mouth and pointing at it.

You grabbed a Cheez-It from the palm of your hand and made a big show of trying to get your aim right. Squinting one eye, you stared at him, moving your hand back and forth before tossing it slightly more to the right. On purpose.

That didn’t stop him from leaning over and catching it in his mouth.

“I don’t like this game,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Don’t act like I don’t know what you did,” he said back, munching on his Cheez-it.

“Sue me,” you told him, brushing him off with a wave of your hand.

He laughed before he settled down. “How’s your hand feeling by the way.” His voice was considerably softer now, making you smile softly at him.

“It’s doing great, thank you again, Peter. I would’ve been totally fucked if it weren’t for you,” you told him honestly.

He shook his head, “Don’t thank me at all Y/N. Hate seeing you hurt,” he mumbled, less to you and more to himself and he stayed staring at your wrapped-up hand.

“Well don’t worry about that, it doesn’t hurt at all.”

“Yeah?” He looked at you suddenly, like he needed to know you meant it.

“Yeah,” you nodded at him.

“That’s good,” he breathed out and your heart squeezed at how much he seemed to care.

“What's your plan? Y’know, for after school?” You didn’t want to leave just yet, even with your studying done. And you wanted to know more about him. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t taken a certain liking to him lately.

“Well after I get my degree, I’m going move up a little further in Stark Industries. I’m still undecided on grad school, I think I’ve got everything I need and I’m probably just gonna start saving up to pay off student loans instead of adding on them.”

You nodded at him, “So the Stark internship is going well? No offense, I sort of thought you were their coffee mule.” You grinned at him before popping a Cheez-It in your mouth.

He scoffed, “No, I’m not. I mean, it did take a while to get them to take me seriously, but I got there!”

You laughed, “Well, very proud of you Pete. That’s super impressive.”

He grinned at you, his face heating up at your words. He wondered if you knew how much it affected him every time you called him Pete. Probably not, but he never wanted you to stop.

You two stayed like that for another hour or so, time passing by without you noticing at all. You talked about your futures, where you say yourselves after school, and after that. Your admiration for him only grew as you got to know him more. You could talk to him all night and never get bored honestly, you-

Shit.

A random notification lit up your phone, which lay beside you on the floor, making you take notice of the time.

You sat up quickly, spitting out curses as you started gathering your belongings and shoving them into your bag.

Peter sat up as well, helping you get your things together but in a calmer manner than yourself.

“Relax Y/N,” he said in a soothing voice.

“Pete I can’t do it.” You turned to him suddenly, dropping everything in your hands.

“Do what, angel?”

“The exam is tomorrow. I’m not ready! I’m gonna fail, and that one grade, that one stupid grade, is gonna hold me back and ruin everything-”

“Sweetheart look at me,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder. His grip was warm and reassuring. “You are not going to fail. And I know this because I’ve spent the last few hours studying with you, and I saw how smart you are, and how quick you caught on. You’re gonna walk in there tomorrow and ace that test, I know you are!

“And if for some reason you don’t,” he continued, “you gave it your best. You tried your hardest and you learned something, which is all that matters in the end. So breathe, stop stressing, and let me walk you home.”

“All that talk as an excuse to ask to take me home?” You snorted, “Peter you shouldn’t have.” Despite your jokes, you took his advice and took a deep breath. He was right, you’d studied your hardest, both with and without his help. All you could do was take the exam and hope for the best now.

He laughed and stood up, holding out a hand once he saw you all packed and ready. “Caught me. So is that a yes?”

You took his hand and pulled yourself up but didn’t let go right away. “If I fail, do we have to stop hanging out? Y’know, with you being a science prodigy and all.”

He laughed again and placed both his hands on your shoulder, staring straight into your eyes. “Never.”

“Ok, well, just making sure. I wouldn’t wanna give you a bad rep in the science community or something-”

You were suddenly cut off from your babbling when he pressed his lips to yours. You froze for a second, unsure what to do, but it didn’t take long for you to catch up and kiss him back.

He pulled away after a few moments, “Done with the jokes?” His voice was soft and teasing.

“Uh huh,” you mumbled, eyes still closed. “But I think you might need to do that again, just to be sure.”

He chuckled murmuring something that sounded like ‘too cute’ but you couldn’t be bothered to hear when you felt his lips on yours again, this time, expecting them.

You threw your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and canting your head slightly for better access. He groaned, one arm wrapping around your middle, the other settling on your waist.

You might have pictured kissing him before, just maybe. But none of your daydreaming could’ve prepared you for the real thing. The way his bottom lip covered your top one, the soft breaths exchanged between the two of you, the way he pressed himself further into you when you tugged his hair a little harder. This definitely beat all of your daydreams.

You could’ve stayed that way forever, and you probably would’ve if Peter hadn’t taken one for the team and pulled away first.

Or tried to, at least.

“We should-” kiss.

“You-” kiss.

“I need to walk,” kiss, “-you home angel.” He murmured against your lips.

“Okay,” you whispered back but you didn’t move to pull away, and he didn’t push you. The two of you stayed stuck, foreheads pressed together, eyes closed, taking in the atmosphere of each other.

“I should probably go now,” you said softly. Peter hummed in agreement, leaning in to peck your lips gently.

“It’s getting late,” but your voice is more of a sigh. You don’t know what he’s laced his lips with but each kiss makes you weak in the knees and woozier than the last one.

“God, d’yknow I’ve had the biggest crush on you.” He said, completely disregarding your previous statement.

That stops you. “What?” You asked him in disbelief. Peter had a crush on you? No way, you would’ve known.

“Yeah,” he chuckled lightly, “don’t act so shocked. I was always a stuttering mess at work whenever you so much as looked at me.”

True. But you’d just thought he was a bit more on the shy side.

“I’d seen you around campus before and I thought you were the prettiest girl I’d ever seen, and I still do, but I thought I had no shot in hell with you. And when I got the job at the cafe and saw I’d be working with you? I almost lost my fucking mind sweetheart.” You both laughed a little and you couldn’t help the way your cheeks flamed up because of his words. Did he have any clue what he was doing to you right now?

“So I just sorta kept my distance, y’know? Admired you from afar ‘cause I was too scared you’d reject me. Sadly, it only took you nearly burning your hand off,” he gave you a look and you burst into giggles, him doing you and slightly pinching your waist, “for me to get over myself and actually keep up a conversation with you. But now I’ve got you in my room, kissing me.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, “lucky you.” You joked as leaned in to press another kiss to his lips.

“Lucky me indeed,” he murmured before pulling you in even deeper. He dipped you, making you squeal into the kiss. Then he pulled you up, unable to keep the kiss going any longer with how hard he was grinning.

“Oh my god,” you said, laughing breathlessly.

“A lot more where that came from,” he smirked at you.

“You know,” you moved to pick up your bag, “for someone who was so scared to talk to me for so long, you sure found the confidence now.”

“What can I say? You make it easy. Once I started I couldn’t stop.” You smiled at him as he gently placed a hand on your arm leading you to the door. The living room was empty now, no one to be found on the couch or otherwise and you wondered where their cat had wandered off to.

You bent over to put on your shoes, Peter doing the same. He stepped forward and opened the door for you, letting you step out before following you and locking the door.

As soon as he was done with that, you reached over and grabbed his hand. “Hey Petey?” You said lightly. Oh, he was going to melt. From now on, he only wanted you to call him that.

“Hm?”

“I’m glad you finally decided to talk to me.”

He leaned down and kissed the top of your head. “Yeah? Me too angel.”

The next morning, you awoke in the brightest mood, considering you had a chemistry exam later that day. All you could think about was Peter. You were going to see him later at the cafe and you couldn’t wait.

You leaned over in bed to pick up your phone. Speak of the devil.

GOOD MORNINGGGGG❤️

hope you slept well angel, can’t wait to see you today. and you’re gonna totally ace that exam!🥰

seriously you’re going to kick chemistry’s butt

A huge smile bloomed on your face, almost hurting from how wide it was. Usually, you'd stay in bed for a while, scrolling through Instagram or just going through messages or something. Not today, you couldn’t wait to get to work. Maybe Peter was a good influence on you.

After getting ready for the day, you made your way to the cafe with a little bounce in your steps. The bell jingled above you as you opened the door and for the first time since you’d started working together, Peter was here before you.

“Hey,” he smiled, holding up your usual drink order and waving it at you.

“Hi Pete,” you approached his, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. As you pulled away, you could see how quickly his cheeks pinked, making you grin.

“No ‘Petey’?”

“Didn’t know you had a preference,” you said, grabbing his hand and pulling it towards you as you took a sip from the drink and then moved to get dressed for your shift.

“Yeah,” he scratched the back of his neck, wishing he could feel your hand on his for just a little longer, “neither did I.”

You laughed lightly as you tied your apron, the sound hitting him like the greatest melody in the world.

“Okay then,” you walked towards him, stopping right in front of him, “let’s start over. Hi Petey.”

“Hi angel,” he gave you a dopey grin and you returned it.

“Great, now that we’ve got that figured out.” You patted his chest lightly before taking the drink from his hands and moving away.

“Hey wait! Where’s my kiss?” He pouted at you and he looked so adorable, you just wanted to pinch his cheeks and kiss him till he begged you to stop.

“We’re at work, we’ve gotta be professional.” You said matter-of-factly.

He rolled his eyes, leaned against the counter, and crossed his arms. “Professional my ass, no one is even in here-,”

Before he could even close his mouth, the bell jingled, and in stepped a boy about your age. The boy moved to one of the chairs, not moving to order just yet, giving you the chance to smirk at Peter, who just rolled his eyes again.

“What do you he’s gonna order,” he asked you.

“Hmm…a cookie, probably.” You moved lean against the counter across from him and took a sip of your drink as you smiled.

“Hey wait, you never told me what your drink order is.”

“Hmm…” he hummed in consideration before he moved towards you, grabbing your hand with the drink and bringing it up to his lips to steal a sip, maintaining eye contact the whole time.

“I’ve got to say,” he said in a low voice, “this one has really grown on me.”

You couldn’t look away, all you could do was stare. And stare, and stare, and stare…

A stranger’s voice, and then, “Hey, can I get one of those double chocolate chip cookies?”

You were just on cloud nine today.

You had taken your exam and for the first time ever in that class, you had felt confident in your work.

And to top it all off, after you’d handed in your paper and packed your things to leave, Professor Hall had given you a ‘well done’ nod. You! He’d never noticed you positively before. You were going to need to drown Peter in thank-you kisses for his help.

Speaking of Peter, you couldn’t wait to see him. He told you he’d be waiting for you after your class but when you stepped outside, there was no sign of him. You decided to sit on the building steps and wait. He was probably just running a little late, no biggie.

Big biggie. After 40 minutes of waiting for him, during which you’d sent him a little text and he hadn’t responded, you decided to head over to his place.

The walk was short and your little buzz had worn off after not getting to share it with Peter. After all, you kind of owed him most of the credit. You arrived at his apartment door, and when you knocked, it wasn't Peter who answered.

It's Freddy.

You throw on a smile. “Hi Freddy, is Peter home?”

He returned your smile as he said, “‘Sup Y/N.” He held out his fist and you stared at it for a while before you got the hint and bumped it with your own. “Pete’s not home right now, but you can totally come in and wait for him.”

You found it funny that someone who didn’t live there was inviting you in to stay, but you accepted anyway. You also had no clue how he knew your name.

You knew little about Freddy, but you knew he was sort of a campus celebrity. Every raging party there was, everyone knew Freddy was behind it.

“So,” you said as you walked in, “what year are you in Freddy?”

“Ah nah, I’m done with that shit. I took the bar,” he said casually, waving a hand and moving to sit on the couch. He kicked his feet up on the large Amazon box being used as a coffee table and picked up the open beer sitting atop it.

You stood in your place, clutching your bag. He was in grad school?

“Oh that’s awesome dude, did you not pass or something.”

“Uh uh,” he shook his head, taking a swig of beer, “got a 350.”

Your eyes widened. What. You didn’t know much about law school but you knew getting a score like that on the bar was not an easy thing.

“Wait when’d you take it?” You asked confused. The bar exam wasn’t scheduled for a few months from now.

“Last year.”

“Do you like…work at a firm or something?” It was insane to you that the party animal of this school had already graduated, and with an amazing score nonetheless.

He shook his head, “Workin' on my music right now, and if that doesn’t work out,” he gave you a wicked grin, “well I’ve always got my law degree.”

You nodded, stunned. “That’s sick dude. Good luck,” you told him, waving as you moved to wait in Peter’s room.

“Keep the door cracked kids,” he shouted towards you and you huffed a laugh as you entered the room and closed the door (leaving it open just an inch) before you sat at the foot of his bed.

You looked around for a second, taking it all in. It’s amazing how he managed to take this small space and make it so him.

After a few moments, you took out your phone to shoot him another text.

But before you could finish typing it out, the window beside you started opening and you watched as the Spider-Man fell onto the bed, not noticing you gaping right next to him.

You stayed silent, unsure of what to do or say until he moved to take his mask off. That got you moving and talking.

“Holy fuck!” You basically shout, moving away, hands flying to your mouth.

He seemed to be just as shocked as you were because he scrambled up from his lying position. And staring back at you was Peter Parker.

“What are you doing here?” He asked you, eyes wide. It wasn’t till then that you noticed the paleness of his features, his face lacking that usually healthy glow it held, the waver in his voice, and the hand clutching his bloody side.

“Holy fuck,” you repeated, voice lower, and for a whole different reason this time. “Shit Peter, you’re hurt.” You moved closer to him, temporarily forgetting everything else as your hand reached to gently remove his so you could take in the extent of his injuries.

“It’s nothing,” he said but made no move to shove you away or stop you. You moved his hand and winced at the sight that greeted you, “Looks like a whole lot more than nothing babe.”

“I’ve had worse.”

You look up at him, frowning slightly, “Not exactly reassuring Petey.”

“I feel all better now,” he said, shooting you a charming grin as soon as he heard the nickname leave your mouth. “Add a kiss in the mix, and I’ll be good as new.”

You huffed a laugh, shoving his knee slightly, “Shut up Peter. I’m serious. I’m sure you’ve got some experience with stuff like this,” you wave a hand towards his suit and injury for emphasis and he gives you a quick nod.

“Over there,” he pointed toward his dresser, “top shelf, under the blue sweater.”

You rushed over there, opening the drawer and spotting the sweater he mentioned. “I’m totally stealing that from you someday, this is your heads up,” you told him as you grabbed the large box and completely closed the door before you moved back to his side.

“You can have anything of mine, Angel. I’m sure you’d look better in it anyway.” His words made you blush, but you tried to ignore them so you could focus on the task at hand.

Peter, however, found that he really liked watching your cheeks pink up. And he wanted more.

“Lean against the headboard, now.” You said, trying to be serious again.

“God, at least buy me dinner first sweetheart.” He gave you the dorkiest smirk you’d ever seen. You just glared at him. “On the other hand,” he said as he moved backward to lean against his headboard, “I don’t need dinner, I’m all yours baby girl.”

This got you to laugh, “Peter, be serious! You’re bleeding out!” You moved to his side, “take this off by the way.” You gestured to his suit.

He hit the middle emblem of a spider and you watched as it loosened up and fell off his shoulders. You had started pulling it the rest of the way down, gulping when you realized he wasn’t wearing anything else, when he mumbled, “Not a terrible way to go.”

You refused to look up and meet his eyes but he knew he got you. Thank god he was wearing underwear, you realized, and you threw the suit to the side after you’d completely shredded him of it. He was definitely going to need a new one.

Now completely facing the damage, your stomach churned, and you were hit with the hard truth. “I…I don’t know what to do,” you whispered to him. You wanted to help him, more than anything. This man who’s been risking his life, probably since he was a teenager you realized, as you did the math silently in your head, was hurt and right in front of you, needing your help. And you needed to help him, but you didn’t know the first thing about how to approach a situation like this. You were surprised you could stare at the wound for so long.

“Don’t worry, I can do it,” he said gently, his bloody hand reaching for the huge first aid kit.

“No!” You rushed out, grabbing his hand to stop him, “No way am I letting you do that! Just…just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.

Feeling more confident, you grabbed the kit and opened it. Shock coursed you as you realized just how much he went through and your confidence fell right back down where it sprouted from. The bag was full of all the medical tools and supplies you could think of, most of them completely foreign to you, and you realized how privileged you must be to not recognize any of these things. You can’t imagine the ‘worse’ he talked about having earlier. This must be those accidents he was talking about.

“I don’t usually have to use them,” his voice was soft, almost like he was reassuring you, “usually just water and a towel does the trick. Maybe a little numbing cream. And these,” he looked down at his wounds, “some bandages, sure, but I won’t need stitches or anything.”

You let out a breath of relief, you weren’t sure you could’ve handled that. You didn’t trust yourself.

“Okay,” you said, grabbing some wipes. You were going to do this. Based on what he’d told you, he was always stitching himself back up, just to hit the streets again the next day. This time, though, was different. This time you were here to help him, and you weren’t going chicken out of this. Even a little help was better than nothing at all.

You started slowly, cleaning around his wounds so you could bandage them properly. “You sure you’re okay with this?” He asked you gently. “I totally understand if you need me to do it, angel, it’s a lot if you’re not used to it.”

“No,” you shook your head, your voice steady, “No way. It’s my turn to fix you up.” You told him, looking up to meet his eyes and smiling at him.

He returned it and you went back to work.

“So….Spider-Man, huh?” You peeked up quickly in question.

“Yeah,” he took a deep breath, “it’s a long story. Basically, I was bit by some spider, that shit was powerful,” you laughed a little, making him smile. “And I got some. Of its powers I mean.”

“So you get bit by a spider, that spider gives you powers, and you decide to become a New York vigilante?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” he nodded, and you laughed again.

“You’re a hell of a guy Peter Parker.” You said, shaking your head slightly.

“Thank you, I try,” he smirked at you and you laughed again.

“Okay,” you said, pulling away from his side. He almost whined in protest. Honestly, he wasn’t feeling any pain, not since you’d started worrying about him, and insisting you help him. Peter wasn’t used to that, he was always alone when it came to this part of the job. He’d never minded that before, just one of the things he had to deal with as a superhero, but now that someone else was taking care of him…it felt nice. Really nice. Especially when it was you.

“Peter?” You looked at him questioningly. Shit. You’d asked him something.

“Huh? I'm sorry, I didn’t hear you.” He said with wide eyes. He’d gotten too wrapped up in the feeling of being taken care of, not that anyone could blame him though, the girl he’d been crushing on forever was here, in his room, helping bandage him up! It's more than he could’ve dreamed of.

“It’s okay sweetie,” you said, waving him off assuming he was in pain or something. Really, now he had something new to obsess over. Sweetie? While he was practically naked (albeit injured, but he wasn’t thinking of that right now) in bed with you? God, he could just melt.

“I was just wondering which bandages,” you said, holding up the different ones you’d found in his bag.

“Oh,” he said lamely, “these ones.” He grabbed a few from you and opened them.

“Look,” he said, leaning over himself to see his wounds properly, “you’ve got to bring together both sides of the wound, then secure the bandage so that it’s holding it closed.” He talked as he placed the first bandage with you watching and listening with intent.

“Okay, I think I’ve got it,” you said as you took the rest of the bandages from him. You steadied yourself, straddling his thigh as you started placing the bandages down his wound. The biggest gash took about five, your elbow resting on his abdomen as you got lower…and lower.

Conveniently, you missed the quiver in his breath, too focused on the work at hand, but you didn’t miss the small gasp he let out when your forearm reached right between his thighs.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” You said as you pulled away quickly, thinking you’d hurt him. “Did I pinch too hard?”

“No, no angel, you’re fine. Doing a great job actually.” He replied, trying to collect himself. He could not let himself think of that right now. There were more important things at hand.

“You sure?” You asked him, not looking convinced.

“Positive.” He replied, grabbing your arm and pulling you back in (but making sure to keep you at a healthy distance from his dick).

You added a few more bandages, most of the cuts only needing one or two, before pulling away again to rummage through his bag. “What do you use on your bruises?”

“This one,” he said, leaning over you and grabbing a tube from the kit. You turned, your lips almost brushing over each other with how close you were.

“Hi,” you whispered, all thoughts completely flying out of your head as you realized just how badly you wanted to kiss him.

“Hi angel,” he said smiling softly at you.

Seeing you debate it in your head, Peter decided it would be easier for the both of you if he did it first. Leaning in, he closed the distance and smoothly took your lips in his. You melted into the kiss right away, feeling like you’d been craving this your whole life when really, you’d just kissed his a few hours ago before you’d left work.

Your hands were on his bare chest, you could feel every muscle, every move when-

“Wait, you’re hurt!” You pulled away, leaving a pouting Peter in your wake.

“My lips work just fine angel,” he said, trying to steal another kiss while you tried to avoid him.

“But..let me finish at least,” you mumbled against his lips, barely getting a chance to pull away after he’d caught you.

“You can finish, just lemme do this first,” he responded before kissing you again.

“Hey,” you mumbled against his lips.

He hummed in response, moving to kiss your cheek, your jawline. If he kept this up you might not try to stop him.

“Did you know Freddy took the bar exam? And passed?”

That got him to pull away.

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking at you confusedly, “I’m kissing you and you decide this a good time to bring up Freddy?”

“Well, y’know,” you shrugged, “figured it was as good a time as any.”

He scoffed, “Unbelievable.”

You giggled, “I win.” You pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, pulling away before he could catch you and turn it into more.

“Now lay down, lemme do this,” you said waving the cream at him.

He moved grumpily and you thought grumpy Peter was the cutest thing ever. The furrow of his brows, the slight pout of his lips. You could just kiss him. And you would’ve if you hadn’t known where it would lead you.

You unscrewed the cap to the cream and started applying it gently. “So Fred’s a lawyer huh?” Peter spoke up.

“He is!” You whispered excitedly, glad he was just as shocked as you were.

“And you learned this how?” He asked, giving you a look.

You shrugged. “He let me in and I talked to him, asked him a few questions to get to know him better since I see him everywhere.”

“Wait, he’s here right now?”

“Yeah,” you said slowly, “I thought you knew?”

“No I didn’t-,” he let out a sigh, “whatever it's basically his apartment too at this point I guess.”

You laughed, “And you’re okay with that?”

He shrugged with his good side. “He buys the good beer.”

You laughed again. “He scored a 350 on the bar exam!”

Peter’s brows shot up. “Oh shit.”

“I know! The only thing I knew about him was that he blacked out in that frat house’s pool all night and the cops were called cause someone thought he was dead.”

“Yeah, he’s super lucky he was on his back. Just floated around the pool like a leaf.”

You shook your head, screwing the cap back on the tube of cream, “Crazy. But anyway, I’m done. And on the plus side,” you grinned at him, “if you ever get in legal trouble, you know someone!”

He laughed out loud, and you watched as his face scrunched up and he clutched his side in pain. Apologizing for the joke, you gave him a kiss on the cheek to make up for it.

“Enough about crazy Freddy,” he let out a sigh, “I’m gonna go put some clothes on, and then I wanna cuddle with my girl.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words and all you could do was smile as he stood up, giving you a kiss on the side of your head before he moved to pick out some clothes.

You watched him get dressed, biting your lip as you watched how his muscles rippled with each of his movements. You always knew he was strong but seeing him like that, was a completely different story.

“Like what you see?” He asked, smirking at you before he lifted his shirt, holding it up between his teeth as he tied his sweatpants.

Your mouth fell open. And being caught and also at…how absolutely hot he looked right now. If he wasn’t injured, you would be all. over. him.

“S’alright angel,” he said as he stalked towards you. He was enjoying this, a lot. “I’m sure I’d be the same if the roles were reversed.”

That did not help. Now you were thinking about being naked in front of Peter and-

He laughed, kissed the side of your head again, and laid down, pulling next to him.

“Careful Peter, you’re still hurt!” You chastised him.

He shook his head, “You made me feel a hundred times better. Thank you, angel.”

“Of course Petey.” He smiled at you as he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tight.

“So, you came to see me right? Y’know, before the whole finding out I’m Spider-Man thing. What’s up?”

“Oh I almost forgot,” you perked up, tilting your head up so you could see his face, “I think I totally aced that chemistry exam!”

“Angel! I’m so proud of you!” He started attacking you with kisses, kissing you anywhere his lips could reach.

You giggled, “Thank you sweetie, but seriously I owe you most of the credit, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Nonsense,” he shook his head, “that was all you. I barely helped, you learned everything and then took that quiz, and aced it.”

“Well I haven’t gotten my grade back yet, I just have a really good feeling, so don’t sound too are there's a chance I didn’t do as well as I thought.”

“Nope,” he said, popping the p. “I have a sense, a spidey sense. And my spidey sense is telling me that you totally aced that thing. No questions asked.”

You laughed loudly. “Spidey sense?”

“No questions,” he repeated as he nuzzled his nose into your hair.

“Fine then,” you snuggled up further into him. “No questions.”

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farity · 3 months

Text

Devil in the Details

"Oh. My. Motherfucking. God."

You turned at your friend Floris's whispered exclamation.

It took you but a second to figure out what she was so excited about.

Aemond Targaryen, the black sheep of the Targaryen dynasty, the reclusive billionaire who looked down at everyone vying for his attention, the man you'd been in lust with since you'd met him five years ago, had actually made an appearance at the glittering charity gala hosted by his mother.

"I need to get his skin care routine," Floris said, biting on her lower lip as she scrutinized Aemond from head to toe. "I'd love to climb that tree tonight."

Good luck with that, you thought to yourself.

You'd been in the same Uni class as his sister Helaena and met Aemond when you'd gone over to work on a joint project. He'd been quiet and almost shy, and you had been instantly smitten.

And had not been able to date anyone in the five years since because all you thought about was Aemond Targaryen.

Not that he gave you a second thought, as far as you knew.

"What the fuck is he wearing?" Floris continued, and, tired of pining after the man, you looked at her and snapped, "why don't you go find out?" before walking away to get your drink refilled.

* * * * *

"We are so very thankful for your family's contribution - the children will benefit greatly," Alicent smiled at you, leaning in to air-kiss you as you said your goodbyes.

You got your coat from the girl at the front, and were about to call for your car when you felt a hand grab your arm.

"Leaving already?"

Your heart began pounding as you recognized Aemond's voice, and taking a breath to steady yourself, you turned to face him.

By the Seven, he looked amazing. He'd shaved off his hair a few months ago when Aegon had done the same after having one too many drinks. Alicent had screamed at her oldest son and out of brotherly solidarity, Aemond had grabbed the electric shaver and started running it along his scalp right in front of his mother.

His eyes bore into yours, the prosthetic eye he had so perfect that you couldn't tell which eye was the real one. Every time you thought about it, you wanted to wallop his cousin, the little shit who had taken Aemond's eye during a childhood fight.

"I've seen enough people to last me a few months," you said, looking at what was, indeed, damn perfect skin, as Floris had mentioned. And was that eyeliner? Because his eyes had never been bluer than they were at that moment.

"Tell me about it," he said, still holding on to your arm, "I was going to grab a drink at the quiet bar next door, if you're game."

There was something vulnerable in his expression and you found yourself nodding and taking the arm he offered. "What in the world are these?" you asked.

He looked down at the latex gloves. "Mother's been berating me for not making an appearance at these things," he shrugged, "so here I am. Maybe she should have specified a dress code."

* * * * *

"You know, there's a name for what you're doing," you said, taking a sip of your drink.

He raised an eyebrow.

"Malicious compliance."

He smiled and nodded. "Yeah, that would be me." He looked back up at you, eyes sparkling, "if she'd wanted me to wear a tux, she should have said so."

"Would you have, though?" you prodded, "I have a feeling you would have figured some way to twist that dress code around. You were always the clever one."

"Not so clever if I never got you to go out with me."

You stared at him for a few seconds. "Aemond, you never asked."

"I'm asking now."

He placed a few bills on the table and placed his hand palm up on the table.

You narrowed your eyes at him, making him laugh, and then placed your hands on his, and let him lead you out the door.

* * * * *

"How is Helaena liking Naath?"

"She loves it there. She has to get her shot every six months but she doesn't care, as long as she can keep studying the butterflies."

"And Aegon?"

"He stopped drinking after he shaved off his head, said it didn't suit his perfectly shaped skull."

You laughed, remembering Aegon's rather oversized ego, and then stole a glance at Aemond. "What about you? How have you been?"

He shrugged, "the company is doing well, family's good," he looked at you, "and I'm on a wonderful date."

You raised your eyebrows, "oh it's a date, is it?"

You could have sworn he blushed, but he lifted your hand to his lips and kissed the back. "It very much is, but I do have a problem." He looked at you very seriously. "I need to lose these damn gloves."

* * * * *

It took about twenty minutes of careful tugging and maneuvering but finally, Aemond was free of the gloves and while you got two coffees to keep you going, he headed to the bathroom to wash his arms.

Back on the street, he grabbed your hand in his as he sipped at his coffee. "This is much better."

"So where on earth does one get this sort of getup to shock Alicent Hightower?"

He smiled. "My friend is a stylist and he hooked me up. His girlfriend is a makeup artist and she put all this stuff on my face and hair."

"You look amazing," you said sincerely, "your eyes look super blue."

"I could feel mom's blood pressure spiking as she noticed the eyeliner and highlighter," he laughed. "It was worth it."

"I bet she'll say extra prayers for you tonight."

Nodding, he took another sip of his coffee. "Not enough prayers in the world," he mused. You stopped to drink some of your own coffee and he pulled you closer. "And I really want to kiss you."

You looked up at him, your heart beating faster, and then he placed his coffee cup down, and took your face in his hands. He brushed his nose against yours, not rushing you, and then his lips touched yours. He kept the kiss light and gentle, his fingertips threading through your hair as you sighed against him.

He murmured your name as he wrapped an arm around you. You didn't want this to end, this magical night, and then he spoke again.

"Come home with me."

* * * * *

"You feel so damn good," Aemond whispered in the lift, his hands on your hips as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

The car stopped and the doors opened, and you stepped into his loft, his hands roaming over your ass as you kicked off your shoes and let him pull you up against him.

"I want you so fucking much," you said against his mouth. He led you to his bedroom and you sat down on the edge of the bed as he pulled his shirt off over his head. "Come here, Aemond," you smiled.

He walked up to you, slowly, and you reached up to undo the fastenings on his leather trousers, keeping your eyes on him. Your hand lightly went over where he was already hard as a rock, and he hissed.

You drew down the zipper ever so slowly, biting down on your lower lip.

"I am going to make you pay for this," he gritted out.

"For what?" you asked innocently, starting to tug down the waistband. When you finally freed him, your eyes darting between his cock and his eyes, you licked your lips and took him in your mouth.

"Fuck."

"Hmmmm," you moaned around him, relaxing your throat so you could take him deeper. You could hear Aemond's breathing stuttering as you slowly pulled your lips all the way to the very tip of him and then took him back down your throat, hollowing out your cheeks.

"Fuck," he repeated, "I, uh, I can't-"

You felt him suddenly pull you off him and push you back on the bed.

"This is going to end too quickly if you keep doing that, angel."

"Angel?"

"Look at you," he said, indicating your white shimmery gown. "An angel about to be debauched."

You let one strap of the dress fall off your shoulder. "What does that make you, then?"

He lunged for you, hands on the bed on either side of you, and the smile on his face made you shiver.

"Me? I'm already destined for hell, love."

He took your lips, not slowly or gently this time, but desperately, his mouth all consuming on yours as he demanded entrance with his tongue and you willingly gave it. He was tugging down your dress as he kissed you, long fingers deftly maneuvering the yards of fabric until he had bared your breasts and then he pulled back, looking down at you.

You pushed the rest of the dress down until it fell on the floor, then laid back down and extended your arms to him. "Come here, Aemond," you said for the second time that night.

He shoved down the trousers, kicked them aside and spread your legs open before he kissed you again. He was so warm, his skin ablaze against yours, and you pulled him down to you, unable to get enough of him.

He began to kiss your neck, long fingers teasing your nipple, and then his mouth was on your breast and you moaned, the sharp sting of pleasure making you arch against him. He reached down lower, between your thighs, and you gasped.

"Tell me what you like," he murmured against your lips.

"Oh," you breathed as he settled on a steady rhythm, drawing tiny circles on the knot of nerves, "you're doing fine," you managed.

"Fine is not what I'm aiming for," he said, and slipped two fingers inside you and you cried out, your hips beginning to rock against him. "I want you to come for me," he added, curling his fingertips inside you.

"Aemond," you whispered, one hand on his shoulder, the other grabbing at his hair. "I- I'm-" you pressed your face to his neck a moment before the orgasm barreled through you, your cry muffled against his skin.

You felt him kneeing your legs apart and then he was pushing inside you. As ready as you were for him, he was big, and you bit down on your lower lip, still recovering and still wanting more.

"You can take me," he murmured soothingly as he kissed your temple. "Next time you come, I want to feel it around my cock," he said, and you whimpered as he rocked his hips to fill you completely.

He pulled back slowly, eyes on you, making sure you were okay, and then snapped his hips. You let your head fall back, and felt his teeth on your jaw, raking gently. "So good," he whispered, "I've wanted you for so long," he said as he settled on long, slow strokes. "So fucking long."

"Aemond," you closed your eyes, the feeling of him moving inside you beginning to send you back into that delicious spiral.

He reached between you, fingertips finding you and you moaned. "I can feel you," he said, "you-"

You cried out as you came, and felt him grab your hips to steady himself as he reached his own orgasm.

* * * * *

As reserved and aloof as you had always thought him to be, he hadn't stopped kissing and caressing you in the aftermath of your lovemaking. The man was full of surprises.

"Stay with me," he murmured against your cheek. "Tonight."

"How can I go when you've got me completely caged in," you teased, looking down at the arms he had wrapped around you and the way his legs were tangled with yours.

"Damn, I was trying to be stealthy," he smirked back. "We'll get breakfast, maybe I'll let you lure me back to bed again."

You rolled your eyes at him. "Rewriting history, are we? I remember trying to leave and someone grabbing my arm."

His eyes became serious on yours. "If I could rewrite history, I would have grabbed you a lot sooner." He leaned in to place a gentle kiss on your lips. "But I mean to make up for it."

You smiled against him, and let him pull you closer, thinking you were only too happy to let him make it up to you for a long, long time.

#hotd fanfic #hotd fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd smut #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x you

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wrenreid · 1 year

Text

Hands-on Learning

synopsis: Spencer Reid’s best friend pays him a visit in DC. She meets his coworkers and they spend quality time together while she’s in town. But their friendly dynamic changes with he asks her a question she was not expecting. (season 2 glasses reid)

word count: 4k

content: 18+ MDNI, oral (f receive), penetration

Spencer has been begging me to come visit him again since the last time I was in D.C. six months ago. And I won't admit it to him, but I've been dying to see him again so much it physically pains me. Going six months without seeing your best friend is the worst feeling in the world, but I'd take the emotional turmoil any day because it's for him.

And I suppose he's worth sitting on this plane, lodged between a sleeping old woman and a man who has gotten up to pee ten times since take off. I must really love him because I'm only an hour into this five hour flight.

Spencer and I met when we were 18. I'd just started my freshman year at CalTech and was in an advanced class with a bunch of 22 year olds. My eye caught his immediately. He was the only person my age in the lecture hall.

I sat next to him and told him my name. I knew I had to make him my friend because he was the only other freshman in the class.

Or so I thought. I didn't know until a month into our friendship that he was indeed not a freshman, and he was taking the class for fun while he worked on his second PhD. A small part of me hated him that instant, but I had already fallen into the Spencer Reid charm. I couldn't get rid of him, no matter how hard I tried (which was not very hard at all.)

We became close pretty fast. Almost every moment we weren't in separate classes, we were together. I was pretty much his only friend and he was the first person I met in uni, and probably the only one to accept me a hundred percent as I was. Being so far from home was hard, and he made it worth it.

Usually we'd do homework or watch scary movies in his single dorm room, which I totally took advantage of. I'd spend the night with him instead of my over-sharing roommate who thought I needed to know every detail about her and her long relationship with her boyfriend Kyle, specifically the phone sex. TMI.

My other friends would joke about how we were in love, but the truth is, we weren't. Not in that way at least. He was my best friend, and I was his. We were there for every big moment in each other's lives.

Well, not every big moment. Spencer was not invited when I finally lost my virginity during spring break of freshman year. But he was there when the guy I'd hooked up with broke my heart. And he bought me ice cream and told me stupid facts until my lips broke into a smile.

I was there when he got his second and third PhDs far quicker than any graduate student should. And he was there when I graduated with my masters in psychology and cognitive science.

"You're a nerd too," Spencer said, his voice teasing as he bumped my shoulder. "You can admit it now that we're done with this place."

I told him to shut up, but a wide grin was plastered on my face. We'd made it through the highs and lows of college together.

However, that grin was soon replaced with tears. Spencer had gotten a job offer with the Behavioral Analysis Unit at the FBI headquarters in Quantico, Virginia. He was going to the academy, and I was starting my research job. He was going to the east coast, and I was staying in California.

"You're leaving me," I said through tears, knowing me guilt tripping him was wrong. But I needed him to stay.

"I'm leaving California, not you," he said, his eyebrows knit together with worry. I could tell it was eating up at him, but I couldn't stop hating the situation. Losing my best friend was the absolute last thing I wanted.

The day he left, I drove him to the Las Vegas airport after he said goodbye to his mom. I didn't help him get his bags, instead I stood there moping. As I watched my best friend walk away, I realized I needed to be happy for him. He was excited about this opportunity, and my bitchiness was ruining that for him.

It wasn't romantic movie-esk the way I ran after him. It was more of an anxiety filled scene where snot ran down my face as I chased him down. Honestly, I probably looked like a stalker.

"Spencer," I breathed out, looking up at him.

He smiled softly. "I knew you wouldn't let me leave without giving me a proper goodbye," he teased.

I shouldn't have taught him teasing and sarcasm. It's bitten me in the ass so many times.

I wrapped my arms around him, ignoring his comment. My face pressed against his chest as his arms held me close. My eyes were closed and I steadied my breathing. Even though he was going what seemed like a million miles away, he'd always be my best friend.

And that's stayed true even three years later. We've kicked this long distance shit in the ass. Of course, we don't talk as much as we'd like, but we still talk. And whenever he can, he visits me in LA after seeing his mom, or I take a visit to the nation's capital just to see my favorite FBI agent.

——

"Every time I see you, you look different," I say with a chuckle as Spencer helps me get my bags into his guest room.

"Is that a bad thing?" He questions, eyebrows furrowed.

"Take it as you will," I say, plopping down on his couch.

He joins me shortly after. He really does look different. He's gained some weight, changed his style up just a little, his hair is parted at the side almost neatly, and he's finally wearing glasses again. Except these ones are far different from the ones he wore in college. These ones are kind of hot, but I won't tell him that because I can't feed the genius's ego any more.

"So," I say, wiggling my eyebrows. "Tell me about your girlfriend."

"She's not my girlfriend," Spencer says, his cheeks already turning pink.

I roll my eyes. "Tomato, tomahto."

"Y/n," he warns.

"Fine, fine. Topic for another time. Don't forget, I'm here all week, Dr. Reid," I flash him a grin.

He sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes.

"You know you've missed me," I say, leaning my head on his shoulder.

He shakes his head, but a small smile creeps up onto his lips. He's missed me. But rather than admitting that he asks, "What would you like to do tonight?"

"Food. What's the best restaurant in the city?"

"The best or my favorite?" He asks. "Because they're different."

"Your favorite," I request, a soft smile on my face.

Spencer nods. "Alright. I'll let you nap off the plane drowsiness, then we'll have dinner."

The smile on my face grows wider. He knows me so well.

After my way-longer-than-I-intended nap, we get ready for dinner. I don't dress up fancy because Spencer has seen me at my worst, drunk, crying, and throwing up.

That was the one time I've ever seen him drink. I drug him to a party that we both ended up hating. We left early and instead bought our own liquor. He'd just turned 21, and I used that to my advantage.

Spencer and I ended up drunk in his dorm room. Surprisingly, he handled his alcohol much better than I did. I got wasted and threw up in his sink before making it to his toilet to repeat the action. He held my hair back as tears streamed down my face from the burning in my throat. Then, he threw up from the sight of me vomiting. It was not our finest moment.

"Ready to go?" Spencer asks, coming into the restroom where I'm touching up my makeup.

"Sure am, doc."

The dinner is amazing. He catches me up on all things BAU cases before asking me how my promotion has been, which is, in simple words, pretty damn great.

——

"Oh you're not Spencer," says a way too handsome black man as I open the apartment door.

"Nope. I'd like to think I'm prettier," I joke.

"Yes, you are," he flashes me a smile.

The footsteps behind me halt. "Don't even think about it, Morgan," Spencer says, a warning tone present in his voice.

The man in front of me holds his hands up in defense, the charming smile still on his face.

"This is Morgan? You did not describe him this hot," I turn to my best friend.

He glares at me. "You also don't even think about it."

I laugh softly and offer my hand out to Derek.

"Y/n. Nice to finally meet you."

His firm grip shakes my hand. "So you're the competition I have as Reid's best friend."

"In the flesh," I grin. "And it's no competition. I've got years on you."

"Ooh she's bold. I like her," he says.

I haven't had the opportunity to meet all of Spencer's coworkers because of both of our busy schedules and us making sure to spend every second together while I visit. I've met his boss one time and friend JJ. I liked them. I know enough about everyone from Spencer's stories to know that he's in good hands.

"Did you need something?" Spencer asks his friend.

"Oh right. Yeah I was just going to see if you wanted to come out with us, but I see you are occupied," Morgan says, looking to me.

"Go out where?" I ask, not letting Spencer respond.

"Bar. To drink and play games."

"That sounds fun! We'll be there," I say.

Spencer fake coughs behind me, and I turn to my best friend. He gives me a look.

"C'mon, Spence. It'll be fun. I want to get to know your team."

He can't say no to me. "Fine. But let's not stay out too long, okay? You know you can't handle your alcohol."

"Hey, I've grown up since college," I chuckle.

——

“Have you two ever...?" Spencer's gorgeous dark haired friend asks me as she takes a swig from her glass. She cuts her eyes to Spencer, then back to me.

He's currently at the bar with Morgan who's attempting to flirt with the pretty bartender.

"What? No! God no," I laugh, shaking my head.

"Hm," Emily hums. "I just thought I sensed something."

"Nope. He's my best friend. Why mess with that?" I smile softly.

"So you've thought about it?" She's nosy. I can't blame her, I am too.

"No," I answer.

That's the first lie I've told to Spencer's friends. Of course I've thought about it. I don't think anyone has been friends with an attractive person without thinking about what would happen if the relationship dynamic changed. My best friend's kind of hot. I know that. Before we were close, I debated on asking him out. But we're just friends. We're best friends. And nothing is going to change that.

I get to know Spencer's friends a little more, get slightly tipsy, and start a game of darts with Morgan.

After he beats me, not by much I'd like to add, we're just about to start a rematch, but a hand touches my back lightly. I turn around to face Spencer, and a soft smile creeps up onto my lips.

"What's up?" I ask.

"Can we head back? It's getting late," he asks, checking his watch.

I nod, brushing my hair behind my face. "Sure, but tell Morgan I totally could've beaten him in a rematch."

Spencer laughs softly. "She could've," he says to Derek behind me who rolls his dark brown eyes.

"Getting old, doc?" I ask Spencer as we walk to his car. He's 99% sober, so he drives us back to his apartment.

I sit in the passenger's seat, hands folded in my lap. My eyes are on him.

"Hm?"

"Why'd we leave so early?"

"10:30 is when the guys in the bar start getting drunker and handsy. I didn't want you to get dragged into some asshole's grasp while dancing," he explains.

"Oh," I nod. "I can handle myself, you know that right? Just because you're a big federal agent now doesn't mean I need you to protect me." My voice is thorough, but a small smile is on my lips anyway.

"Just returning the favor, Y/n," Spencer says. He knows I protected him all throughout our shared college days.

My cute going-out clothes have begun to get uncomfortable. I unclasp my bra, keeping my somewhat sexy shirt on and slip it off from underneath the blouse, letting it fall to Spencer's floorboard.

"Much better," I breathe out an exasperated sigh.

He's silent in his seat, eyes on the road. I see his hands grip the steering wheel a little harder.

"I missed you a lot," I say honestly. Usually I'm not one to say what I'm feeling or be mushy gushy, but the two shots of tequila have opened me up.

His eyes flick to me, his lips formed in a soft smile. His face is being lit up by the passing cars' headlights. I can see how sharp his cheekbones are, his jawline. "I thought you were heartless."

"I take back my previous statement."

"I missed you too," Spencer says.

"Of course you did, I'm a delight," I gloat.

The sound of his soft laughter fills the air. It pulls on the strings in my chest.

"How is it possible that I leave in three days already?"

"Shh," he shakes his head, eyes still on the road ahead of him. "Don't mention that right now." Spencer's hand pats my knee before squeezing it comfortingly.

——

"I have a question," Spencer says, coming into his room where I'm currently laying on his bed, reading a book I grabbed off one of his many shelves.

I look up from the page I'm on. He looks nervous, cheeks red, his hands fiddling with themselves.

"Hit me," I say.

He sits down at the edge of the bed. "I don't really know how to ask this... It's a weird question. I don't want to make you uncomfortable, and..."

"Spit it out, Spencer,” I eye him.

"Could you... would you tell me how to please someone. Specifically a woman. During sex."

A huffed laugh releases from me, and his cheeks burn redder. I think I'm blushing too. "What?"

"I'm sorry. That was weird. Forget I said-" he starts softly.

"Have you never...?"

Spencer shakes his head.

I didn't really think he had, but I didn't ever expect him to tell me when or if he lost his virginity anyway. He's reserved, even with me with some things.

"Wait," I sit up straighter. "Is this about your girlfriend?"

"Not my girlfriend," Spencer corrects me. "But yeah. We have a date the night you leave, and I think she's going to expect it. I mean, this is our fourth date."

"Well, if you don't want to have sex, don't have sex," I say sternly.

"It's not that I don't. It's just that I've never done it. I don't know what to do. I've read, and I'm good at anatomy. But what if I'm bad at the physicality of it all?" He presses his lips together, his teeth gnawing on the inside of his bottom lip.

"I don't really know how to explain it," I chuckle nervously. The blood is rushed to my cheeks, they're probably scarlet. "It just kind of happens."

"I shouldn't have asked," Spencer says.

"No, it's just that... like with anything, practice helps people get good sex," I tell him.

He looks up at me, his eyes asking what his lips won't. I feel my heart pounding against my chest, faster than usual.

"Do you want me to... show you?" I ask. He has always preferred hands-on learning.

"Would you?"

I nod slowly, hesitantly.

He moves toward me slowly, hesitantly.

"Kiss me," I tell him, hoping this won't get too weird.

Spencer and I have been best friends for years, we're extremely close, but this may bring us too close. This could ruin everything, but for some reason, I can't stop it.

He presses his lips to mine gently, his hand cupping my face. My eyes flutter closed. I reciprocate the kiss, and it's a lot easier than I imagined. Not that I've entirely imagined it.

My hands trail up his arms slowly. He's gained muscle. I guess that's a part of his FBI agent glow up. His tongue roams my mouth, and I'm pleasantly surprised by how good of a kisser he is.

He pulls away after a few minutes. He's breathing heavy. "Are you sure this is okay?"

I nod, then lean in to kiss him again but he leans back.

"Say it."

"It's okay, Spencer," I tell him. This time he lets me kiss him again.

I lay down, my back against his bed. He hovers above me, his hand on my waist now as he kisses me. He's good at this, and that thought comes to my mind again as his lips suck on my neck.

"Keep doing that," I whine softly.

He obliges and nibbles my skin gently. "Is this okay?" He whispers.

"Mhm," I noise.

I let him take the lead for now, do what he's comfortable with so far. His hand trails up a little further. I tell him he can touch me, and he does, though hesitantly at first. His fingertips graze against my breast before he finally gets comfortable enough to take hold of it through my shirt. He squeezes then pinches my nipple. He knows more than he lead on.

A soft moan releases from my mouth, my back arches just a little. His hand slips beneath my shirt, his warm touch on my belly. Spencer takes ahold of my shirt then lifts it up. I help him take it off me. I'm completely bare hips and above since I wasn't wearing a bra anyway. His eyes widen a little, and he smiles softly.

"Stop staring at me," I laugh a little.

"We're about to have sex and I can't look at you?"

I roll my eyes. "Let's just continue."

Spencer nods. "What do you want me to do?”

"Well, most women like to do other stuff before actually getting into the sex. Penetration alone doesn't do it for most of us," I tell him.

"You included?"

"Me included."

"What do you like?" He asks.

"What are you comfortable with? Do you have any ideas?"

Spencer thinks for a moment. "I want to learn how to-I want to give you... oral."

I burst into a laugh. "Spence, never say oral to a woman. Just say head."

"Head. Noted," he nods.

He's adorable when he's nervous and nerdy. Which is pretty much always.

"Kiss me first. Anywhere," I tell him.

He chooses the soft flesh of my stomach. I smile down at him. I reach down, pushing down my shorts, my underwear too. I'm growing needy.

Spencer slips them the rest of the way down and tosses them down to the ground. After slipping off his glasses, he kisses the inside of my thigh. God, I need him to do something right now.

His big hands push my thighs apart. Then he pauses. The clocks in his brain turn.

I feel like he's just about to call this whole thing off, but then I'm hit with a shock of pleasure. His tongue licks in between my folds.

“You’re really wet,” he says, more like an observation that a tease. Then he attacks my clit with his lips after taking a second to find it. Fuck. He definitely knows more about sex than I was led to believe.

Spencer's fingers leave marks on the inside of my thighs as he grips onto them. His lips suck on my clit, tongue flicking back and forth often too.

Soft moans spill from my lips. I'm trying to be quiet. I shouldn't be enjoying this as much as I am.

The sudden shock of Spencer's mouth removing from my clit makes me whine in protest, but his fingers sliding inside me make up for it.

I groan, my head leaning back into the pillows.

“Do you like this?”

I bite my lip, “Mhm. Curl your fingers.”

He does as he’s told.

When Spencer both fingers my cunt and sucks on my clit, I'm a moaning mess. "Holy fuck, Spencer," I whine. My legs are shaking within minutes, and even though he's still sloppy and new at this, my body loves it. My hands grip into his hair.

"Just like that, Spencer. So good."

A loud moan rings out from me as I finish. I couldn't even warn Spencer before my release pours from me.

My breaths are heavy and loud. Spencer pulls away, looking up at my eyes.

"Was that okay?" His breathing is heavy too.

"No," I say. "Spencer that was fucking amazing. You've seriously never done that before?"

He shakes his head.

"Wow."

"Told you, I'm good at anatomy," he smiles bashfully.

"Take your pants off," I command. "I want you inside of me."

I find a condom in my purse as he shrugs his clothes off. I sit up and find myself staring at his bulge with wide eyes. He's bigger than I expected. Not like huge to where it's unnatural, but big enough that I will probably need a minute to adjust once he's in me.

I tell him to lay down, and he does. He's a good boy. I like it.

I help him get the condom on, then swing a leg over his lap so that I'm straddling him. "Are you ready?" I ask him, my hand holding his face gently.

He takes a second, processing that he’s about to lose his virginity. Probably freaking out a lottle that it’s to me. “Yes ma'am," Spencer nods.

"Just a gentlemen," I grin.

I lower myself onto him, and once he's inside me, I do need a minute to adjust. Moans come from both of us, and I love the sounds we make together.

"Fuck," he groans, his voice raspy. He repeats my name over and over as I start to roll my hips.

"Oh my god." My eyes shut, and I bite my lip to keep me quiet.

"Don't do that," Spencer tells me. "I want to hear it."

I give him what he wants. I bounce up and down on him, his length hitting me in the right spot every time.

Both of our sounds fill the room. Spencer holds my hips down, stopping me.

"Wha-?"

"I want to do it," he says softly. "Please."

"Do what you want with me, doctor," I tell him, nodding.

He flips our positions, and he's on top of me. Spencer's lips crash into mine as he enters me again.

I bite his lip, causing both of us to moan into each other's mouths.

Spencer doesn't last much longer since it's his first time, but I don't even mind. He rubs my clit until I come again, and I feel I'm floating.

We lay on his bed, heavy breaths morphing together. "I think you're going to blow her mind, doctor Reid," I chuckle softly.

"Who's?"

"You're girlfriend that's not your girlfriend," I say, eyebrows furrowed.

"Oh, right. I don't think I'm going on that date. Okay, actually I canceled that date when you got here."

"What?" I chuckle, confused.

"There's no date,” he says, point blank.

"Did you just trick me into sleeping with you?" My eyebrows are still furrowed, but I'm smiling.

He presses his lips together. "Well, if you put it that way... I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"No, no. I admire the hustle, doc," I laugh softly, my fingertips circling on his bare chest.

Men and women can be purely platonic friends, no romantic feelings involved. But maybe Spencer and I aren’t that type of friends after all.

tags: @shakespear-picaso-lovechild @kylakins88 @jazzerbelle14 @cynbx @yazzyu @regulus-black-223048 @virginmusicloverr36 @sebs-oxygen @jolotta @booktvmoviefangirl @nevielei @pauline5525mgg @necromaniackat @r3idsp3ncer

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svmjaeyvn · 3 months

Text

love maze, s.jy.

chapter six pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: tbd (series)

masterlist

add yourself to the taglist here!

genre: college!au, mutual friends, fake dating, smut.

synopsis: an unfortunate encounter, drunken mistakes, and a sort of (definitely) stalker leads jake sim ‘dating’ his best friend’s childhood crush.

or, your life gets intertwined with a rich boy’s in attempt to not get sued by his crazy personal fangirl and like with all good cliches, sex overcomplicates things.

contents: smut, sort of strangers to fuck buddies to lovers pipeline, childhood best friend!jay, mentions of best friend! yunjin, curly haired & mixed reader, uni!au, rich nepo baby!jake, enha frat boys, lots of kissing, fake dating turning into fwb real quick, totally way too into it for it to be fake early on, big booty reader that’s jake’s obsessed with, partying and alcohol use, slight violence, he fell first and harder trope, stem bf & writer gf, (kinda overly) possessive jake, some angst to spice things up, daddy issues, hyper independent reader who struggles with her feelings, fluff and happy ending!!

a/n: hello~ i’ve never been a tumblr girly but i have went through my w*ttpad era back in 2018 so bare with me y’all. this will be a series but not that long (i hope) so pls look forward to it. warning tags will be placed before each “chapter” to specify what to expect. pls pls reblog and interact, i’d love to have feedback and see what your thoughts are. okay! yay, for now enjoy and thank you sm :D

MDNI, 18+

tap below to continue

CHAPTER SIX: EXS

previous masterlist next

word count: 3.3k

warnings: swearing, kisses, calling minjun a stalker, protective jay and ni-ki

a/n: not a lot of jake in this one i know but i have to make a plot and conflict yall 😩 adding in bbg riki and some more best friend!jay pls enjoy

"HOW MANY TIMES have I told you to wear the gloves when you do the dishes?" You tsk, delicately wrapping the small gash that ran along Ni-ki's, the newest trainee at your work, hand. He sheepishly smiled, tilting his head in the smallest of ways.

"Sorry noona," He mumbled out, embarrassed by his third time sitting like a kid being scolded due to his clumsiness. "I needed the steaming pitcher so I just reached in the sink and didn't see realize the tongs were so sharp,"

You shake your head with mock disappointment though a small smile perked at your lips nonetheless. With the middle of the semester rolling around, most freshmen had found themselves finding a rhythm with balancing their school lives enough to find a part time job. You've seen numerous come and go, Cho— your generous manager who was the sweetest old lady that ran the cafe, always took them in for at least a short amount of time.

Ni-ki was your favorite thus far, always listening intently (to everything aside from the dishwashing) and picked up the skills relatively fast. Respectful but also comfortable enough to joke around with, the two of you had become a dynamic duo in closing four days out of the week together.

Of course he was still a boy, a young and partially annoying one at that but he reminded you of your younger brother, weaseling his way in having a soft spot in your heart even though it had only been two weeks.

"Okay now we switch, you run the front I'll clean up back here," Satisfied with your makeshift bandaging, you shoo the younger boy along who rolled his eyes but nonetheless disappeared from the back of the house. Cleaning up the medical kit and barely managing to slip on your gloves to handle the load of piling dishes, you noticed his head poke in around the corner.

"Someone would like to talk to you," He hums before disappearing once more, not giving you enough time to determine whether it was a good talk or bad one in having to handle the customers. With a small sigh, you make your way to the front, prepped for the worst but your tension dissolves seeing your bright smiled best friend leaning over the pastry case.

"Off the glass," You warn, making your way to the register where Ni-ki stood with a goofy smile. Jay reluctantly stands himself up straight, pouting seeing as you didn't greet him with the same warmth he was expecting.

"That's not very good customer service, where's ajumma Cho? I'd like to file a complaint," Jay tuts, peering around the store though he knew well enough it was only you and Ni-ki in the building. The younger boy lets out a small snort, used to his antics in the past two weeks of running into each other and forming a budding friendship through their mutual teasing over you.

Rolling your eyes, you lean against the counter expectantly. "What'd you need Jay?"

"I can't just come say hi?" He pouts, seemingly offended by your words while he shakes his head. "I haven't seen you in days teeny, you've been too busy with your boyfriend to give me any attention now,"

"I saw you when we had lunch," You deadpan, finding his dramatics amusing though you knew the mess that occupied the back room needed tending to before you were forced to stay late. "Seriously, I actually have work to do today so I can't talk—"

"I'll help!" Jay volunteers, the same boxy smile on his lips while you shake your head. "What? I've done stuff before! I'm bored and want to hang out, let me help. It'll show me what you broke college students do everyday to survive and stuff,"

"Let rich boy do the dishes," Ni-ki interjects, rolling his eyes at his ladder sentence though it was all in playful manner.

"As long as I get to wear an apron," Jay agrees, pointing a finger at the coffee brown colored uniform piece you had to wear.

It was a temping offer, and he wasn't wrong. Typically you had him clean the menus or refill caramel bottles whenever he wanted to be like a kid and help out but you really did dread washing dishes. With a reluctant sigh, you nodded your head and not even a split second later, Jay had made his way around the counter to the employees side.

"This is exciting," He hums, following you to the back while you reach into the locker cubbies, pulling out one of the spare aprons left just in case anyone needed it. Jay slips it over his head, securing the strings behind his waist while you point toward the far end of the room. His excitement visibly deflates seeing the mountain of items waiting to be cleaned, the cherry on top being the empty dishes Ni-ki waltzed in with a genuine smile of content as he added to it.

"Have fun princess," You laugh, patting his shoulder as you walked by and with some reluctance, Jay made his way to begin without a word of protest much to your surprise. Having far more time to do your tasks, you began with the inventory. Going through the store and marking down the amounts had while Ni-ki continued to clean and restock due to the end of the night approaching, it was peaceful with the younger boy taking hold of the aux to play his own music now opposed to the cafe playlist.

A few minutes passed without any words, finding comfortable silence and both of you working on your own things before the jingle from the front door indicated someone coming inside. "Welcome in," You called out, not bothering to look up from the fridge you were bent down beside while Ni-ki headed for the register to attend the guest.

"Hey," You stiffen at the familiar voice. Pausing in your count, you stare at the half empty milk carton in the fridge, waiting for the person to speak again, praying it wasn't what you thought. "Sorry man, is ___ here?" With a deep sigh, your head falls down. Ni-ki peers to the side, giving you a questionable glance noticing your reaction and unaware of what to respond with.

Sending him a half smile, you stand up properly, exposing your hidden figure behind the counter. You make eye contact with Minjun, void of emotion and placing the fakest of smiles onto your lips as you spoke. "How can I help you?" Decidedly going with the faux customer service route, you place the book down you were previously using to record while his eyes trail over your figure.

"Hi," Was all he spoke, almost hesitant and you had to hold everything in you to not roll your eyes. "You're a manager here now?"

"Yeah stuff changes over a year," You respond dryly, not particularly seeing the point in his attempt in a conversation. Ni-ki lingered, seemingly wiping at the warming station but he listened carefully, aware of how unenthusiastic you seemed and found it best to stay close just in case with how stiff the air seemed. "Something you need from me?"

Minjun opens his mouth only to close it twice over. Not having the proper words to say, he purses his lips. "I've been wanting to see you," Was all he could come up with, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. "Heard you still worked here and figured it'd be the best place to find you,"

"Yunjin told you to leave me alone and that I didn't want to talk," You reiterate, sending him a pointed look while he nods along. "So you came to my place of work knowing I didn't want to see you," Another nod. "Yeah, think that's called stalking,"

Ni-ki stiffens up at your words. "Noona," He mumbles, coming up significantly closer to your side while you shake your head. Ni-ki was tall, significantly more than you and a majority of the male population was shorter than him but he was still a kid. Besides, you didn't need any protection, Minjun wasn't a dangerous guy, just an idiot.

You hold up your hand, silently telling him that everything was fine. Reluctantly, he backed away, though he still lingered and his eyes stayed glued to Minjun who stood on the opposite side of the counter.

"I just wanted to talk," Minjun starts, voice seemingly sincere but you shake your head.

"There's nothing to talk about,"

"No means no dipshit, did you forget kindergarten rules already?" Jays' loud voice interrupted the stiff air, the attention brought to him as he emerged from the back room, a drying towel being throw over his shoulder and his apron slightly damp at the waist. He makes his way beside you, arms folded across his chest and puffing out the muscle and veins that peaked out from his rolled up sleeves. You nearly let out a laugh seeing the tough guy act your best friend pulled, almost wanting to take out your phone and take a picture but you had to admit, Jay was intimidating when he wanted to be.

"Lovely to see you again too Jongseong," Minjun sighs, plastering on a more than fake smile at the man who always expressed his distaste over him even when you were together. "Didn't think you'd be a part-time cafe guy,"

"You gonna order or not?" Jay cuts to the point, his patience thin enough as it was and especially with people he didn't like. You made a mental note to applaud him for being mean for once.

"If I order will you go away so I can talk to ___?"

"She has a boyfriend," Ni-ki interjects, standing beside Jay who nods along. "Plus she doesn't like you, so I can either take your order or you can leave,"

Minjun's eyes flicker to you once more. "A boyfriend," He repeats. "Thought you told Yunjin to tell me that just to get rid of me,"

"Not everything's about you man," Jay rolls his eyes, quick to answer for you. "Being desperate doesn't really work for you,"

"How long?" He ignores Jays jabs, eyes focused on you while you shrug. "Recent right, considering you haven't posted anything about him,"

"You really are a stalker," Ni-ki grimaces, not knowing the full details but hearing enough to make his judgements.

Sending the two behind you pointed looks, silently telling them that you'd handle it, you look back at Minjun with a small sigh. "It's not really any of your business, is it?"

"Well with me you were all about posting stories and making sure I posted you so it's just surprising,"

Narrowing your eyes, you pick at the skin of your nails at your side, something that Jay took note of in your old habits whenever you grew irritated. "Things change. Being with a guy who provides reassurance and treats you well does wonders," You hum, no longer bothering with decorum. "I don't have time to go back and forth with you. If you want to order they'll help you, if not, leave,"

Without giving him time to protest, you made your way to the back of the building ensuring he wouldn't be able to follow. Jay was quick to tag along leaving Ni-ki to fend for himself but knowing the young boy would be fine.

"He's fucking insane," Jay rambles as soon as the two of you were out of sight and behind the door that separated the front from the back. "To think that after all the shit he put you through you'd just, welcome him back? Delusional ass who doesn't know how to take no for an answer apparently—"

You nod along, taking a seat in the plush chair that was tucked away in the corner of the room beside the desk. You stared at the ground, focusing on counting the tile patterns allowing for Jay to ramble as he paced around the room. Taking note of your unusual silence, he stops mid step to look at you, a small sigh leaving his lips seeing how your bottom lip was tucked between your teeth and how you continued to pick at your hands.

Leaning down in front of you, Jay squats as his hands find way to your knees, leaning against you and forcing your line of vision to be filled by him. "You okay teeny?" He asks softly, the look of pity one you remember all too well and not what you wanted.

"I'm fine," You respond. And you were, for the most part. You just couldn't deal with your own emotions and Jay going back to treating you like a fragile piece of glass, it was exhausting enough having him be as attentive as he was in general. "Seriously, I'm fine. He's not worth my time anymore J, I just hope he got the hint and won't come back,"

Jay nods along, giving your knee a small squeeze in reassurance while you click your tongue. The door swings open, Ni-ki poking his head in the frame. "He left," The younger boy reassures, a small smile sent your way. "Am I allowed to ask noona?"

He looked concerned, an expression you had yet to see from Ni-ki and it emphasized just how young he seemed in your eyes with the innocent gleam. Gesturing for him to take a seat, you lean back in the chair while Jay settles himself on the ground. Peering up at the security cameras, ensuring to have a clear view of anyone were to walk in, you begin your story.

"Buckle up kid, you're getting a whole new level of lore from me tonight,"

"THIS IS SUCH bullshit," Jay huffs, eyes focused behind you as he takes a rather large bite of the apple he had been holding for the past ten minutes. "I can't believe he transferred back,"

"You know, it's kind of heartwarming how upset you are for me," You tease, significantly less worked up over the situation although it was less than ideal.

"No I agree, he's a fucking asshole," Yunjin adds, shooting daggers with looks that could kill causing you to raise a brow. "What? I hate him. We're not even really related, my aunt is divorcing his uncle and I only hung out with him cause of her so now it's free range since he's being a weird idiot,"

"Are we talking shit?" Sunoo draws the attention to himself, placing his bag down and smiling brightly as he clasped his hands under his chin. "Who about?" He sing-songs, voice dripping like honey and a grin that seemed so innocent but the content behind it was entirely different.

"Her stalker,"

"Whose stalker?" Heeseung interjects, Sunghoon trailing behind him to join the ever growing table. Jay and Yunjin's fingers immediately point toward you, silently answering his question causing the older boys brows to frown. "What happened now?"

As you opened your mouth to explain, a rather loud one cut you off once again. "Noona!" Ni-ki calls out, voice booming as he made his way toward you with Jungwon leading. Rather obviously pointing in the direction you spoke of, his eyes were wide seeing Minjun on the other end of the plaza with his own group of friends. "What the hell is he doing here?" The youngest asks as they reached the table, now having all curiosity peaked of those out of loop.

"Who?" With the last member of the group joining, Jake smiled widely as he weaseled his way beside you, placing a quick peck to your cheek as he sat.

"Everyone here now so I can talk?" You ask aloud, glancing over the group and doing a quick headcount. Over the past week, with the concept of you and Jake being together, your friend group had merged with his. Well your two friends, one of which you shared already, had joined in with Jake's while Ni-ki had been recently adopted in after finding Jungwon and him shared a general ed class. You had to admit, it was nice having more people to talk to, your life had certainly become more interesting in the best of ways.

"Do tell," Sunoo urges, far too excited to know more as the certified gossip of the group, though he was always the best at giving advice so it was two sides of the same coin.

"My ex transferred back here," You finally say with a small shrug. Jake tensed up from beside you, his brows pinching together as he leaned in closer to listen to your explanation. "He came by my work the other day trying to talk and I told him to get lost and then now he's here,”

"He's weird," Ni-ki adds in, his face pinched with disgust as he shook his head. "Desperate stalker behavior,"

"Who is it?" Sunghoon asked, looking in the general direction Jay pointed in but not particularly locking in on anyone.

"Kang Minjun," Yunjin answered without missing a beat.

Jake lets out a scoff, leaning closer into your side. "He's a fucking prick. Came into class today and wouldn't shut up during the lecture," Taking hold of the unpeeled orange you had left since it seemed like far too much work at the time, he peeled the skin off without a word, holding out the first piece to you before popping one into his mouth. "Professor Choi loved it, annoying as fuck when most of us just come since attendance is mandatory even though it's a gen-ed class,"

"We're the same year, he had always been popular," Heeseung shrugged. "Definitely annoying considering he used his looks for basically everything and acted cocky all the time,"

"The pretty one?" Sunoo asks, glancing around while he gained a few pointed looks for the comment. "What? My bad I've never seen him before," He pouts, hands up to show his lack of defense.

"Stalker," Ni-ki reminds, entirely ambient on making it knowing for everyone how uncomfortable he was to be around. "Doesn't matter what he looks like, he's still a weirdo,"

Jungwon lets out a small snort at his comments while Heeseung suddenly changes the subject. The conversation topic switching over to plans of a staycation in the near future while Jake absentmindedly holds out the last slice of orange for you to take.

“He comes over here and I’m throwing this apple at his head,” Jay warns, holding up the partially bitten fruit causing you to grimace.

“I don’t think he’s that dumb,” Sunghoon snickers. “And that’s gross, you can see all your teeth marks,”

“Who cares?” Jay retorts, beginning to bicker as the two change the topic for the second time in a near minute. Everyone else following along, paying no mind and rather comfortable in one another’s company.

You felt Jake’s arm wrap around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side as he leans down to your ear. “You alright?” He mumbles, breath fanning against your skin causing you to shiver but nonetheless nod along.

You pull away slightly, enough to see his face while a small smile peaked at the corners of your lips. You had to admit, it wasn’t ideal and made you exhausted having to deal with your past. You put on a brave face, one enough for the others but for some reason, Jake could see through it more than you knew.

He let out a small sigh, a lingering kiss placed to the crown of your head as he did so. “You’re alright,” Jake spoke, the words intended to reassure you, fully certain of it for your sake and that seemed to be more than enough to help your nerves for the time being.

Letting out a puff of air, you allow yourself to melt into his side, settling in comfortably as your head tucked itself below his chin, leaned into his chest and arms caged around you for extra support. Your attention was brought back to the rest of your friends, eyes meeting with Yunjin who sat with an amused expression being one of the ones who knew everything while Heeseung had his nose scrunched up with disgust.

“I hate couples,”

my tags!! @slutforsjy @jaklvbub @whowantshota @addictedtohobi @coolwitu @simjyunnie @kgneptun @graythecoffeebean @143ikeu @zyvlxqht @tesywesy @nxzz-skz @aishisgrey @missmischief1408

( pls make sure your settings make you applicable to tag )

#enhypen #enhypen jake #jaeyun x reader #jake sim #sim jaeyun #enha x reader #jaeyun smut #jake x reader #enha #enhypen jake smut #jake enhypen #enhypen smut

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bluexiao · 1 year

Text

#kunikuzushi, how do you love?

—rewritten relationship headcanons (from “scaramouche, how do you love?” )

THEMES. (pre)relationship, fluff, domestic, character analysis, love languages, use of his real name

NOTES. okay, just a little bit of storytime on how i was so tempted to write this (albeit again) is that recently my mom got fractured and as i am an only child and away from home since i’m going to uni and in a dorm, it’s my dad who’s taking care of my mom. and oh my god. both scara and my dad are capricorns and their bdays are even next to each other,,, and i just cant help but like compare their love languages a bit (it may sound weird but trust me this will be good)

WANDERER / KUNIKUZUSHI

He knows love—knows its meaning, knows what it does, and knows what its consequences are. Love is but a rose with thorns, pricking whoever chooses to admire its beauty and immerse them in its pleasure. Love is a danger, and far too humanly him.

It will not be long until he recognizes this disgusting feeling since he met you.

But as he was his own person, he chose not to identify it—to call it by its name. Out of fear? No. Out of instincts.

He who didn’t have a heart suddenly felt love? Preposterous. Absurd. He wasn’t human, nor will he stoop so low to pretend to be one.

Yet he underestimated you far too much—your… charm… so to speak, along with the unpredictability of your actions. How you show up and how your lips curl up in a gentle smile and how his name slips out of them ever so… gentle. Everything about you is gentle, and kind, and so… so-

“Good morning, Kunikuzushi”

His jaw tightens and he dreaded for the sudden presence almost immediately as it had appeared.

“It’s you.” It’s always been you—the only one that actually makes him want to run away from. But he won’t, no. He wouldn’t give you the pleasure to know, not ever.

“It’s me,” you smiled, “hey, I haven’t seen you for a while. You even changed your outfit! Blue looks good on you.”

He scoffs, almost out of instinct. It is true that it has been a while since he last saw you and yet, it felt like it was just yesterday. And with that thought, he couldn’t bear to look directly in your eyes that with a hand on his hat, he looks away.

“There’s no need for pleasantries,”—like usual, he replies, and he adds on, “but it’s not much of a surprise to see you again, Y/n.”

Which actually translates to “it’s nice to see you again”.

The only time he will actually “confess” with such feelings in mind to you is never—not outrightly or with words, but rather by his actions.

The indication you may want to look out for is when he himself attentively seeks you out, if you see him often, and if he actually stays with you for a long time, almost the whole day—actually, even if he spares you just a bit of it would be a good indicator.

When he places an arm over your form whenever there’s an incoming enemy, muttering a “Move back” and makes sure you would actually listen before he proceeds to atack and defeat anyone on his way—both of yours.

When he offers his hand every time there’s a steep slope that you had to pass by, scoffing at your surprised look and says “Couldn’t have you fall down and whine all the way back. Now, come on, lend me your hand before I change my mind.”

When he waits for you until you finish your work—you’d almost think he wouldn’t since it took you a while, only to find that he’s still there, arms crossed over his chest as he’s leaning on a wall on a far corner, yet it’s still enough to have you visible from his view. “What? Why are you looking at me with that face? I’m not tired, is that what you’re thinking? I don’t tire easily, human.”

And whenever you’re sick or you’re injured, he will be more silent than he ever was, by your side with pursed lips, nursing you back to health. Even without him actually saying it, you will know how affected he was just by seeing your state. If he told you of his history, you’d know right away that seeing your fragility, vulnerability, your mortality… it can trigger memories that were not really the nicest to him.

“What happened?”

For a moment, you can see the hurt in his eyes, struggling to find the right words even if you knew you could explain the situation very well only to falter right in front of him. With this side of him.

“Kuni, I… I just-“

‘How can you be so careless?” His voice was weaker, much more gentle despite its usual tone still laced with it. Yet the Wanderer finds himself unable to change his disposition, not with you like this.

“Humans…” he mutters under his own breath, and you are unable to speak any more.

But despite everything, he only knows love, he spent most of his lifetime seeing it as a nuisance, a danger. He did not want to love, did not want the desire to flow in his mechanical and heartless body.

And yet, it seems that even a puppet without a heart like him can. Love—whatever it is.

“I love you,” it was you who confessed, “Kunikuzushi.”

Despite already knowing it deep down, the crease on his brow was visible despite how he tried to look calm, but as you didn’t see such a tiny detail with your head bowed down, you continued on.

“It’s getting… I mean, I don’t know if you really like me the same way, or you’re just too bored on your own or just treat me as a friend, but… but I don’t think I can go on without being honest to you.”

Only when you looked directly at him did he feel it—a pang in his empty mechanical chest and a pressure on his shoulders.

“I don’t like you as just a friend, Kuni.”

A minute or two passes—that’s what you felt like anyway as you melt under his gaze, awaiting for his answer or just… anything!

“Ugh… why…”

Then his facade fades, all by a bite on the lip as he looks away for a moment with a hand on his hat. And even if he tried to retract his face away from your view, you could still see enough to notice the pinkish red hue on the skin of his face, all the more so with his exposed ear.

And as if the pressure in the air gives up to gravity, that same weight on your own shoulders eases up, eyes widening at the sight in front of you.

Then he peeks from his hat and glares at you, “Why… why are you doing this to me, Y/n?”

The transition to dating wouldn’t even make much of a big difference, actually. That was what he realized when you two were already “dating” so it seems. Frankly, he was confused by it, only to come up with the conclusion that it is better this way anyway. You and him… are just you and him, there was no need for extravagance and grand changes.

But really, it was because you two were already comfortable with each other. And the only thing that changed was…

You blink your eyes open and you welcome the sight of him right in front of you, his soft laughter enveloping your ears as he grins at you. You didn’t know what amuses him so much that he can smile like that, but…

“What? What is it, Kuni? Did I…”

“You fell asleep just from reading a couple of books. To think you’d be this lazy in studying, darling.”

He then leans in and presses his lips on your forehead, not before swiping his palm on them and scoffing afterwards. “Overworking doesn’t make you more intelligent. How about falling asleep on an actual bed so you can have an adequate amount of energy left,” he crosses his arms, “Actually. Sleep on the bed now, or I’ll have to carry you instead.”

He scolds you more… and also kisses you too. A lot of it consists of pecks here and there, it doesn’t really matter to him when or where. He doesn't care if people saw or not—if they did, it’s a good thing anyway, they’d know who they’ll come up against if they ever mess with you.

He’s with you most of the time but in times that you’re not and he’s having his own travels alone—which happens quite rarely, actually, he would always go home immediately. He’s not that privy of having to part from you for so long—not that he’d admit that outrightly, but you’d notice it straight away.

And if he does part with you for a while, he will make you give him your handkerchief or anything small that belongs to you, something that reminds him of you and the home he will go home to. That he’s not just a wanderer now.

He’s just… him with you.

And that’s how he loves. He loves slow, but he loves with just… himself, his entire being. Even without a heart, he knew of love. He knew of you.

reblogs and comments are highly appreciated!!<3

taglist on reblog!

#yaepublishinghouse #scaramouche x reader #scara x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #kunikuzushi x reader #genshin wanderer #blue's works

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maitadori · 11 months

Note

Hi there love,

How are ya doing ?

…So exams are hurting my soul right now, I hate uni 😭

If you have time can you do a little something, where blade and jing yuan (or just blade if you choose only one) where they are distracting their s/o from studying or completing their paper work. If you can, can you make it nsfw 💕

KEEP YOUR HANDS TO YOURSELF nsfw blade, jing yuan x fem!reader, separately

content warning : blades is modern. reader is wearing a skirt in jing yuan’s fingering (blade), dry jumping (jing yuan) nothing much else really

a/n : hiiii tysm for requesting me!! and to answer u i am doing preeetty good, i’ve been somewhat busy and burnt out (even though i barely write to begin with) so i’m trying to get back in the groove. you actually sent this ask awhile back and i am so sorry it took me so long to respond 😭.. but i hope ur exams weren’t too much of a pain in the ass. and i hope this is up to your standards!!! this is kinda small but if i tried going into the actual stuff i would’ve lost motivation 2 write.

requests are open btw plz request me i want smth to do

do u guys notice that i don’t have a posting schedule. idk if anyone actually does but

DARK CONTENT BLOGS AND MINORS PLZ DNI!!!

BLADE :

blade was insatiable

something the both of you were already aware of

in his defense you looked sexy even when you were just sitting there

so could you really blame him for wanting to undress you even when whatever you were doing was so mundane?

he laid on your bed, taking in the scent of you on your pillow as he watched you shuffle through papers

your focused face had him staring

the way your eyes squinted, the way you clicked your tongue whenever something irritated you, or when you huffed out sighs like every three seconds due to exhaustion

his eyes then dropped to look at the glossiness of your lips as you bit them in a fruitless attempt to concentrate

he could feel his pants tighten the longer he stared

he could feel embarrassed. he should feel embarrassed. but he really can’t bring himself to care about the details, all he knew was he wanted you. bad.

so when you look up at him through your lashes once he approaches your desk and you blink, clueless. he’s far reached past his breaking point

“blade! you can’t be serious! i really have to nnn-” you’re cut off as he curls his fingers in a certain angle — putty in his hands within mere seconds, you’re barely able to speak coherently, “i have to study!”

“you’ve been doing that all day,” he groans out, watching your contorting face with rapt attention, resisting the urge to get the foreplay over with and shove himself inside you.

if anything he should be getting praised for holding out this long.

blade has you on your back as he hovers over you, fingers buried in the depths of you as he observes every twitch and jerk. a certain stroke of his has your eyes rolling behind your eyelids — a sight that has blade taking your lips immediately.

the kiss is rough and desperate, it alone conveys how much blade wants — no, needs you. he’s biting your lips, sucking your tongue and practically your life force as you go limp from the ferocity of it all.

“you— haah — you came to me knowing i’d be.. be busy! it’s not my fault you don’t listeeennn!!!” your leg jerks and you impulsively try kicking him away as your climax approaches. he’s curling the sweet spot within you so efficiently that your mind goes blank.

all you can do is chant his name as if he were your god, drunk on him and his touch.

he gets harder at the sight of you losing yourself, not even aware that it was possible — but of course you of all people prove him wrong.

as your vision goes white and your cries echo throughout the house once you fall over the edge, blades easing you through it, rubbing your clit as you moan in ecstasy. once blade is sure that your orgasm has passed and you go lax against your pillows, he makes haste to unbuckle and undress himself. he’d be damned if he wasn’t inside you before the minute ended.

your arms are over your eyes as you pant heavily. you’re exhausted beyond belief and as of now, studying is the last thing on your mind. it isn’t until you hear the clanking of metal together that you peek from behind your arms.

lo and behold, blade pulling his thick cock from the confines of his boxers. your eyes bulge and you look up at him questioningly. “w-wait.. you’re not..”

“what’d you think i was prepping you for?” he asks, tone raspy and somewhat condescending.

you dig your elbows into the pillows to sit you up, but blade pushes you back against the bed with one hand and cock in the other. “you’re crazy if you think i’m gonna go any longer without fucking you.”

“i have exams soon, can’t it wait?”

“it can’t.”

before you could try and say anything more, his slaps the tip of his cock against your clit, rubbing against it in an up and down motion. your eyes roll back and your tongue goes heavy.

you couldn’t find it in you to care about your studies when he filled you all the way to the hilt. this was much better anyways.

JING YUAN :

one thing about jing yuan is that he is extremely persuasive and convincing.

you had to admit it was both his worst and best trait

when his voice is suave and deep, it’s almost like you’re being lured in by a siren

and you hate the effect he has on you, because it’s always hard to say no

not only that but he’s extremely shameless. he isn’t afraid or embarrassed of showing his attraction towards you

so when he wants something from you, he has you wrapped around his finger within mere moments.

he’s swarming you like a mosquito, buzzing in your ear with his voice, you resist the urge to swat him

he has an extremely important meeting next week that needs to be arranged accordingly, but jing yuan is more interested in feeling you up.

usually you’d have no qualms about this and you’d accept easily, and you’re sure that no matter what jing yuan does, his reputation as the general will stay strong

but the idea of people thinking badly of him has your stomach stirring

so you scold and you wave him away, all in vain, really.

because if jing yuans anything else other than persuasive and charismatic, it’s stubborn.

he leans down to nip your neck lightly with his canines and you hate to admit how quickly you melted

jing yuan’s lips are hot on yours. you can feel him fighting off a smile as he devours you whole. he has you straddling him on his chair, papers haphazardly moved about as you try to find balance on the desk behind you.

jing yuan’s hands know no bounds, for they touch any skin they find. he’s caressed you from your neck and collarbones to the hem of your panties. he makes sure to give your chest good attention too. teasing just under your bra and chuckling at your desperate whining.

“ah. but didn’t you say you had to work? maybe we should stop,” he says that, yet he’s smirking. he hasn’t even taken off your shirt yet, and you have half the mind to go back to work and try and act as if his behavior doesn’t affect you so heavily.

you’re silent, coherency on its last thread. jing yuan is aware and decides to give you a little break.

he gestures for you to lift your arms, and despite the weakness in them, you use your last remaining bits of strength to give jing yuan leeway of ridding you of your shirt.

and before you can do anything else, his teeth are kissing bruises into your skin, soothing them with pecks of his lips right after.

your fingers go behind his neck to grip the roots of his hair and your head tilts back as your lips part to make shape of his name.

jing yuan’s lips are occupied so he decides to busy his hands as well. his thumb teases the curve of your nipple that’s glossy from his saliva as his other thumb nears dangerously close to your clothed clit. he eagerly lifts your skirt to make way for his hand, anticipation going through the roof at the feel of your heavily soaked panties.

“tell me where you want me,” he groans out.

“touch me here,” you whimper, placing his hand right against your panties.

his smirk returns and his voice takes on a condescending tone, “but i am touching your there, aren’t i?”

“jing yuan!!” you moan breathily, voice coated in half pleasure and half anger. at the sound jing yuan’s lips curl into a smile.

a ghost of his finger right over where you needed him most has a loud whine leaving your lips. it’s not exactly what you wanted, but with your general, you’d take what you could get.

but you don’t even notice how quick you gyrate your hips in search of that familiar friction. you unintentionally shoved jing yuan’s face in your chest, your face in his hair and arms moved to wrap around his neck as you moan prettily.

you’ve hit the point where your mind is blank and only in search of pleasure, something that jing yuan experiences with you a lot.

but instead of disciplining you for this behavior as he usually would when you got out of hand, he sets his heavy hands on your waist to help guide your movement, teeth nipping at your skin. he’s happy with his decision once your noises get louder and your grip around his tightens.

jing yuan’s mind clouds and he can’t help admitting that he likes this side of you, the side of you that cares not for his pleasure and just wants to use him for your own.

jing yuan taglist : @ceylestia @comettheasteroid @voidsatoru @blazervain @meaningofaeons

blade taglist : @shrimp-anon @caesadele i just realized how small my blade taglist is omg

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #blade hsr #honkai star rail #jing yuan #blade honkai star rail x reader #blade hsr x reader #honkai star rail blade x reader #jing yuan x reader #blade x reader #blade smut #jing yuan smut #🃏; saturn.writes

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deakyjoe · 1 year

Text

Somebody’s Watching Me Part 12

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader (“Sarge”, she/her, British, backstory)

Category: coworkers to friends to lovers with grumpy x sunshine dynamic/idiots in love

Summary: Can the two of you fix the damage that has been done? Or is it too late?

Warnings: angst, fluff, talks of injuries, British slang/terminology, strong language, mask is off

Word count: 1.4k (a baby in comparison to other parts)

A/N: Took a break from writing this series, mostly because I was burned out and had lots of uni work to be doing, but also because I needed time to think the ending through to give you all the best of what I’m capable of. It’s not as long as other parts but I feared that if I didn’t write it now then I would never write it. It’s pretty much where I always intended the story to go, just with a lot less conversation than originally planned. There will still be an epilogue after this but for now… enjoy!

When Ghost awoke, blinded by fluorescent hospital lights, and he saw Price standing at the foot of his bed with a deep-set frown... well, he knew things weren't good. It didn't help that you were nowhere to be seen. He didn't expect you to be fawning over him and nursing him back to health or anything. But no trace of you in the hospital room at all was not an encouraging sight.

"Am I dead?" Simon said gruffly, immediately coughing as his lungs clearly had something wrong with them.

Price scoffed. "You wish."

"Damn." He attempted to sit up straight, groaning when pain stabbed through his torso. "Ah, what the fuck?"

"I'd be careful if I were you. You were shot. Several times."

"Nothing new then." He sighed and looked at Price again, a grave look crossing his face. "Where is she?"

The captain hesitated for a moment before replying. "Home."

Shit, that definitely wasn't good.

"Why?" Simon didn't really want to know, too scared of the truth, but he needed to know.

"She was severely injured. Needed better medical attention than we could give her and then some time off once she recovers. She's home now but still in remission." Price checked his watch quickly, clearing his throat when he saw the time.

"Got somewhere to be?" Ghost asked, a sarcastic inflection in his voice.

The captain nodded. "Yes, actually. Already late from waiting for your lazy arse to wake up."

He only grunted in reply and waved his superior out of the room. "Go. I'll be fine.”

"You can go home to her once you've healed a bit more. For now, rest." And with that, Price walked out of the room leaving Simon in silence.

It was okay. He liked silence. Well, more he liked the lack of talking. People talked far too much about insignificant things. Strangely, he missed the sound of your voice chattering about insignificant things. He pushed that thought away and attempted to sleep for a while.

At home, in your flat, you were sick of friends coming over to visit you. Each one seemed to have some form of baked good or casserole and your refrigerator was full to the brim already. You hadn't even been home that long.

The sheer mass of people doting over you was becoming overwhelming in the most annoying way possible. You didn't need them constantly caring for you. Sure, the sentiment was nice enough but you were used to looking after yourself and healing independently. Usually you did it in the (un)comfort of a military hospital or medical tent. Unfortunately for you, you'd been sent home this time and had had no choice in informing your friends of your sudden return back. They just suddenly knew you were there and they were more than willing to help.

"I don't need you to give me a sponge bath." You'd told one with a roll of your eyes, still thinking about earlier in the day when you'd had to tell another that it was perfectly fine for you to drink apple juice and not stick to a strict diet of water.

Honestly, a part of you was enjoying being at home and having time to relax. Even though the cause of it was a little extreme, being able to sit on your sofa all day and watch reruns of old sitcoms as you made your way through every dish stacked in your fridge was nice. Almost... fun.

A part of you longed for something though. Simon. Obviously him. You craved to know how he was doing. When you'd first woken up, a nurse had simply told that he was alive and nothing else. Alive meant nothing. You didn't even know if his condition was stable.

You were worried, to say the least. And even Price wasn't willing to divulge any further information when you'd pressed him for it over the phone. He'd just mumbled something vague and moved on to asking you how you were doing.

It was frustrating. That was for sure.

The days passed and you grew restless, itching to get out of the house again. But you were sensible and followed the suggested instructions from the several doctors that had all agreed that you needed in order to heal properly. It was just a shame that it took so long to happen.

On day, what felt like, one billion of staying at home, there was a knock at the door. And after you'd taken a minute or two shuffling towards it, shouting out a stream of reassurances that you were on your way, you were utterly shocked to find your lieutenant on the doorstep.

Your mouth opened and closed a few times before a ridiculous sentiment left your mouth.

"Jesus, is this like those hallucinations you get just before dying?"

Simon said nothing, just the twitch of the corner of his mouth indicated that he had even heard you, and outstretched his fist to you.

In his hand, was an apple.

Specifically, one of the good apples from the farmers' market.

You looked up at him in confusion.

"Peace offering."

That explained it. So, you took it from him and opened the door wider to let him in. You weren't about to turn down a good apple or a peace offering.

Once you'd both settled yourselves into comfortable positions on the sofa, you wincing a few times and growing jealous that he seemed to have healed so quickly, you really took your time to look at him.

You tilted your head to the side and raked your eyes over him. "You're nervous."

"Am I?" His eyebrows raised a fraction.

"Yes." You nodded.

"How can you tell?"

"You scratch at the scars on your face when something is making you anxious."

"Hm." His eyes squinted at that observation, obviously not previously aware that he had that tell.

You moved on, not willing to dwell on that. "Why are you here?"

"Visiting an old friend."

You laughed sarcastically. "Oh, really?"

He shrugged, still as frustrating as ever. "You should've left me behind."

You'd be shocked if he hadn't been so self-sacrificial in previous times.

"Why would I do that?" You asked, lacing your voice with a mock innocent tone.

"Would've been the smart decision." He snapped.

So you shot right back. "Maybe I'm not smart."

"Yes, you are. You're just stubborn."

The words he'd once told you came tumbling out of your mouth. "A stubborn brat you mean?"

"That too."

You laughed again, shaking your head in disbelief. "You're right. I am stubborn. And I couldn't let you die. The idea of you... I can't stand it. So I let you live for selfish reasons. Alright?"

"You should have let me die."

"Shut up, Simon. That was never going to happen." You rolled your eyes at him and grit your teeth when a shooting pain stabbed through your side as you adjusted your position on the sofa.

Simon's hands raised for a second as if about to help you before he lowered them again.

Instead, he asked a question.

"Why not?"

You looked at him to see if he was being serious. He was.

"You know why."

"Maybe I don't."

You sighed. He was so difficult sometimes. Yet, you gave in.

"I..." You trailed off into thought.

But Simon wasn't going to let it go so easily. "You what?"

"I, y'know, I feel..." Your hands waved around as if hoping to grip a coherent answer from the air.

"Feel what?" The slight raise of an eyebrow hinted that he knew exactly what you wanted to say.

You sighed in defeat. "You know what I'm trying to get across here, Simon."

"I want to hear you say it."

"I feel for you. Have feelings. More than platonic. I... care... for you." You cringed at your own clumsiness, wondering when you'd lost your ability to fully communicate with words.

"I know."

You punched him lightly on the shoulder. "Cocky shit."

"I also care for you."

"I know." You scoffed teasingly.

He just repeated your words back to you. "Cocky shit."

The smiles that broke out across both of your faces were indescribable.

Yeah, the two of you were being slightly more awkward about this than usual but it was never going to be easy to just jump right back in to what you used to have. Smaller steps would have to be taken. And you were fine with that. As was he. You’d get there eventually, it was only a matter of time. After all, some things were just meant to happen.

A/N: Thank you all so much for sticking with me through my hiatus! I’m sorry this is a quick resolution but the epilogue is still on the way.

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lucy90712 · 6 months

Note

Can you do a Jude Bellingham imagine where his girlfriend is very burnt out from school. They do long distance so she tries to get everything done so she can go spend time with him & watch him play. One day when she lands to watch him play against Barcelona he finds her stress crying in the room alone because she tries to be there for everyone around her but it’s costing her to stress out about getting things in on time. Somehow Jude calms her & they enjoy their day before he plays against Barcelona.

Thank you

-a very stressed & burnt out student

A/n: this is me right now too, I hope things get easier for you soon

WC: 2.0k The last few weeks maybe even months have been so stressful. Ever since I went back to university I have done nothing but go to classes and study. I know it's my final year but I didn't think it would be this difficult but there is just so much to do between assignments for classes and preparations for my dissertation. For the first few weeks I feel like I was coping pretty well but recently it's all just hit me like a truck and now I feel like I'm drowning in books and being suffocated by deadlines.

To make it all 100 times worse where I chose to go to uni is away from my family and very far from my boyfriend. Don't get me wrong I love it here but at times like this I just wish that I had someone here to tell me it's all going to be ok. I've been really missing not just my family but my boyfriend Jude as well, I haven't seen Jude since before I came back to uni which was at the end of august and it's been killing me. I also haven't been able to talk to him as much as I would like as I've been really busy and he's been busy too with his move to Real Madrid and having to get used to living and playing over there.

These last few months have been hard on our relationship, even though we've been long distance for a few years now we have never gone this long without seeing each other and the fact that we haven't talked as much hasn't helped. Finally we are going to see each other though as I'm flying over to see him play and just to spend a few days with him which has got me through the last few days. In order to be able to go and see Jude I have been working extra hard to get my work done as I want to actually spend time with him which I can't do if I have assignments to do but it's been difficult. All week I've only left my apartment to go to classes and I've pulled far too many all nighters but I've got quite a lot done so I guess it's somewhat worth it although I still have some things to do.

I had an alarm set to wake me up before my flight but it wasn't needed as I'd been awake all night packing and doing uni work. The worst part was despite all my hard work I had to pack a few of my textbooks and my laptop as I didn't manage to finish everything in time. I tried to put that behind me though as I got to the airport because I still want to enjoy my time with Jude and if I'm stressed and feeling down then I'm not going to make the most of the time which I really do want to do. Jude has been telling me all week how much he's been looking forward to today he promised me that we was going to get up early to pick me up from the airport before he has to go to training which is how I know he's serious as he hates getting up in the morning.

~~~~~~~~~~

After a few hours in the air I landed on Spanish soil and somehow I immediately felt a bit more relaxed as I knew it was only a matter of time until I would be in Jude's arms which is exactly what I need. As I got off the plane I text Jude to let him know I had landed which he answered right away telling me he was already waiting for me in the arrivals lounge with a disguise on so he didn't get recognised. Knowing he was waiting for me made me walk a bit quicker to collect my bag and once it was in sight I grabbed it and ran towards where Jude would be waiting for me.

It took me a minute to find Jude but eventually I saw him stood with a hat and sunglasses on which didn't offer much of a disguise but he wasn't surrounded by people so clearly it does something. Once he saw me coming he swiftly made his way over until he was close enough to pick me up and nearly kill me with how tightly he held me. It felt so good to be in his arms again and smell his cologne it made me feel like I was home again which is exactly what I've been needing. Jude held onto me for a good while before he took my bag in one hand and my hand in the other leading me out to his car which was parked outside. Once we got in the car Jude leaned straight over the centre console and smashed his lips onto mine which led to us making out for a bit too long so we had to rush back to Jude's place on he could drop me off before going to his training session.

Once Jude had left I went and made myself some breakfast as I didn't have time to eat before I left and I had to make myself a cup of tea because despite being in Spain I'm still British and we can't go a day without a cup of tea. Jude knows me well enough that he had brought a new pack of my favourite tea and put it on a shelf he knows I can reach along with a mug which he had clearly just brought for me. I enjoyed my cup of tea before I took my bag upstairs to go and unpack. To my surprise the room was quite clean and Jude had cleaned out one of his draws for me, well not quite there was a few hoodies and t shirts in there still but he left me a note telling me I can wear them so they are mine now. Of course I had to put a hoodie on before starting to unpack all of my stuff.

I unpacked most of my stuff pretty quickly but then I got to the bottom of my suitcase and saw just how many text books and folders I had to pack. Seeing it made the realisation hit me that I still have so much work to do and once again all of the stresses started weighing down on me like it was physically crushing me. All week I've been so deep into work mode I bottled up all my emotions but now they are all coming out at once and for some reason I can't stop crying. It's like all of the pressure and stress has finally reached the surface and the mental breakdown all my friends warned was coming has finally arrived. I've never felt so overwhelmed in my life and I just don't know how to cope all I do know is that I need to get myself together before Jude gets back as I don't want to worry him plus I want to enjoy our time together.

My attempts to calm myself down didn't go well if anything I just got more overwhelmed and cried more. I was so in my own world that I completely lost track of time so when I heard the front door close and Jude call my name I panicked. As his footsteps got closer to the bedroom I desperately tried to wipe the tears from my face but then I realised my eyes would still be all red so I just put the hood on the hoodie up to try and cover my face.

"Hi darling do you need any help unpacking?" Jude asked a he walked in

"N-no I'm f-fine" I sniffled

"Babe what's wrong?" He asked clearly concerned

"Nothing" I said

"I know you're lying to me I can hear you sniffling what's made you so upset you know you can tell me anything" he said trying to make me open up

"I'm sorry I'm just stressed I've got so much work to do for uni I worked so hard all week so we could actually spend some time together but I couldn't finish everything and now I have loads of texts books in my suitcase and I'm just feeling a bit overwhelmed I'm really sorry I'm ruining our time together" I rambled

"Hey hey slow down it's ok there's no need to be sorry it's ok tell me exactly what's going on and we can fix it together" Jude comforted

"I still have two assignments I need to finish before the end of the week and I'm so exhausted from pulling so many all nighters but I just want to actually spend some time with you because I've really missed you" I said a bit more calmly this time

"Ok we can work this out I know you're tired but how about I help you finish those assignments then we can just have a relaxing evening together get some sleep and be ready to do something together tomorrow" Jude suggested

"That sounds good" I said

Jude then picked me up and sat me on his bed before grabbing my laptop and books for me. I explained to him what I needed to do and then we go to work together. One of my assignments I just needed to reread so Jude did that for me to make sure there were no mistakes then I just needed to finish one other assignment and then do the same. Jude was so helpful and read the parts of my textbooks I needed to me while I typed and he let me talk through my ideas with him even though he doesn't understand what I'm studying. In just over and hour we were done and I instantly felt so much better and when Jude started giving me kisses I felt even better.

Being the amazing boyfriend that he is Jude got some chocolate from downstairs for me to eat while he ran a bath for the both of us to share. It was only when Jude came to ask me which bubble bath I prefer that I realised just how much he had brought for my visit. He doesn’t like to take baths so he wouldn’t have bubble bath just lying around and the chocolate I was eating was my favourite one so he must’ve got that especially for me as well. Jude is such a sweet boyfriend all the time but little things like this just make me realise how truly perfect he is and it makes me so grateful that I ended up with Jude as I know he truly cares for me.

Once the bath was ready Jude helped me get in then he got in himself and sat behind me letting me rest my back against his chest. The entire atmosphere was so relaxing which helped me finally let go of all the stress and anxiety that has been fuelling me for the last few weeks. Nothing needed to be said either both of us were more than content just sitting there in silence as Jude’s fingers played with the rings on my hand especially the promise ring which he gave me last Valentine’s Day which I think is my favourite piece of jewellery I own. After a while of just relaxing Jude started to wash my body for me which meant I didn’t have to move at all as his hands gently rubbed over my skin.

Once the both of us were clean we got out the bath and Jude gave me some of his clothes for me to put on which I very happily did. He then picked me up and carried me downstairs to the sofa where he piled blankets on top of me before sitting down and spreading them out properly. All of the sudden I felt the tiredness take over so I snuggled up to Jude and just let my eyes close and sleep consume me. Just as I was drifting off I felt Jude kiss the top of my head and whisper I love you which put a smile on my face just as I went into a dreamland.

#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagines #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham #football imagine

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lalal-99 · 3 months

Text

of the big city {h.j.} | track 2

Han Jisung x afab!reader | trope: slice of life, coming of age | word count: 6.9k

Synopsis: The one where uni starts and you meet some interesting people.

Check Chapter Overview for complete list of warnings

Note: The next chapters are gonna be much shorter, I promise. The overwork is going smoothly so far, I have the next chapter ready and will probably post beginning of next week. I also wrote two whole new chapters this week which I'm very proud of. I really hope I can finish this story this time around :)

Tumblr works on a reblog system. Please consider reblogging this post so that it can reach more people. Thank you :)

Please don't flag as mature or repost this story - Thank You!

“Baby? Do you have some paper for me?”

With an annoyed eye roll you ripped a page from your new notebook, smoothing over the edges of the torn binder. You pushed the single page over towards him with reluctance.

“You forgot your notebook on the first day already?”

And to think notebooks and pens were the main reason you had gone to the store yesterday.

“Don’t blame me. You know I’m not a morning person. And you didn’t want to wake me up with sex, so...” The smugness in his voice made you wonder if he actually thought he had won this discussion. You raised your eyebrows at him, hinting at the thinness the metaphorical ice on which he was walking.

You usually didn’t get annoyed that easy. If you had, your relationship sure as hell wouldn’t have lasted this long. The reason: Jisung and his lack of understanding social cues. To take the hint and not bother you any further when you were already frustrated, all it took was a look.

Although he wasn’t the reason for your irritation today. Or at least not the sole one.

It was the first day of university, so naturally, you were a little on edge. Whatever happened from this day on would decide over the paths your life took in the future. It was a step you had waited so long to take but dreaded all the same. Jisung, as your loving boyfriend, should have known how much this meant to you.

Sometimes, you speculated if he did it on purpose. Rile you up when you were anxious to give you something to put your focus on instead. His intentions might have been sweet, but this wasn’t taking any tension off your shoulders. Jisung forgetting his notebook and blaming you for it, even as a joke, could have likely been the last straw.

“Baby?” As you looked back at him, you noticed his cute pout. It was almost cute enough to make you forget what you had been so annoyed about a minute earlier. “Do you also have a spare pen? And some highlighters would be nice, too.”

Shaking your head at Jisung, you let out a snort. So he hadn’t forgotten just his notebook, but his pen and highlighter too? Got it. Very unwillingly, you handed him the items. You thankfully always had a spear set in case of emergency. Or, in this case, your boyfriend’s scatterbrain you had been dealing with for many years already.

“You have got to be kidding me.” He blew you a playful kiss, thanking you for your service. “Don’t let this become a habit. I’m not piggybacking you through university as I did in High School. Understood?”

As much as you loved him, Jisung had his fair share of annoyances. Like his living-in-the-moment type of attitude. A contrast to your thoroughly organised persona, you usually appreciated your differences. Without his Yin, your Yang wouldn’t shine as bright and vice versa.

That still didn’t change that you wouldn’t be his personal secretary this time around.

Jisung was old enough to care for himself and not rely on his girlfriend for every one of his needs. Whether it was some paper and pens, your skillfully crafted cue cards, or an all-nighter before one of his final exams. How ever you had talked him into studying for that one anyways.

“I love you, too.”

If he only weren’t so damn cute.

Out of pure principle you ignored his comment with an unintentional snicker. You continued your draft outline on your first notebook page—your attempt of getting a head start on future lecture notes—thus almost missing the voice chatting up Jisung.

“I’m taking you won’t be sleeping in the dorm a lot, will you?”

The depth of the second voice made you look up from your notebook. As the light shone into the room from behind the boy, it almost blinded you. Once your eyes got used to the brightness, you could finally make out a lean figure. He set a reusable coffee cup on the desk next to Jisung before sliding onto the wooden chair.

The boy was clad in comfortable attire, loose hanging jeans paired with a simple t-shirt. His long, blonde hair messily framed his face, a green beanie rounding off his skater-boy look. Something told you he had more to himself than what his cover showed. The several silver rings on his fingers could have been the reason for your suspicion. Or it was how he carried himself—a perfect line leading from his soles to the tip of his head. In exact contradiction to your boyfriend’s slouching posture.

“Morning to you too, sunshine.” The smirk in Jisung’s tone indicated his playfulness and a sense of closeness. “Why do you care? You’re not in love with me, are you?”

“No,” the boy scoffed, his bag placed neatly under the table. “I just wondered if I can stop waiting up for you or if I will have to identify your corpse at some point.”

Looking past Jisung, the boy noticed your presence, sending you a heart-warming smile. The freckles all over his nose and cheeks juxtaposed the darkness of his voice and over-all looks. Something about his aura relaxed you, his company drenching his atmosphere in happiness.

“Hi, I’m Felix!”

“I’m Y/N. I’m Jisung’s-”

“Girlfriend. Yeah, I know. He talks about you a lot.”

Jisung leaned in closer to you, though he kept his voice at the same volume, “Be careful, baby. He’s very much in love with me already. I might leave you for him.”

“You can have him.” You leaned past your boyfriend, directly addressing Felix. “But make sure to always have a spare pen and paper. And also a spare pair of pants.” The scene from earlier this morning came back to mind, a teasing look creeping onto your face. “He might say he can care for himself, but he will wear your leggings and pink baby-girl crop top when there’s no alternative.”

“Good to know,” Felix replied with a deep chuckle, amused by the picture you had painted. He ran his hands through his blonde hair, showing off his ears and all the piercings. Okay, so, definitely not a skater-boy-type.

“You might be joking now.” Jisung threw a know-all look in your direction. “But you won’t be laughing when I wear your fishnets to your grandpa’s next birthday.”

“Don’t you dare put on my fishnets! They were expensive.”

“That’s alright. We’re about the same size, so he can wear mine.” Felix’s words came unexpected and not even Jisung couldn’t conceal his amusement.

“Great, there’s two of you now. Is it too late to drop out?”

In all the years you had known him, Jisung rarely ever made friends this easy. Not even a week on campus, and he had gotten close enough to Felix to joke in his usual manner. How they had even gotten this close when Jisung had spent most of the day at your place was a mystery to you. Still, the little time they had spent together was enough to have discovered a mutual hobby—catching Pokémon. As they argued over who had found the rarest creature, you picked up your previous task. Though that didn’t stop your joy in finding that Jisung had made a friend. And a nice one at that.

You felt guilty for even thinking it, but Jisung had never been particularly good at making friends. Not before meeting you and not afterwards either.

Most of all, you blamed the lack of a ‘do not say’-filter in his conversational skills. His openness posed an obstacle to making new acquaintances—or at least it had many times before. After years of getting side-eyed or complained about, he had stopped talking to new people all together. Like he already expected the sole attempt to make connection to backfire. The few relationships he had formed despite his shyness had been pure luck. And your very own relationship only existed due to your perseverance.

That Jisung had already befriended Felix, at least as much as possible in three days, put you in a bright mood. One of your biggest fears about moving was your boyfriend rooming with someone he didn’t get along with. With someone as talkative and easily compatible as Felix, Jisung would likely not be clinging to you as much. Which wouldn’t have been the worst scenario, but still.

With every passing minute the lecture hall filled more. When something sharp scratched your shin, your head finally snapped towards one of the new-comers. A blonde girl had sat down next to you, and you found the culprit when you noticed her pink heels.

“Oh my God. Did I hit you? I’m so sorry.” Her hand came to her mouth in shock as she apologised a couple of times. You rubbed over the sensitive skin which was already bruising from when you had hit that crate of boxes yesterday. Talk about unfortunate accidents. You pushed the urge to groan at the pain down, forcing a smile onto your face instead. “It’s those dang heels. I knew I should have worn the sneakers today.”

“It’s fine. Surprised me, that’s all.” Embarrassment reached over her cheeks to her ears, a frown painting her face. “No worries.”

For a few seconds she hesitated but finally accepted your willingness to let it go. Out of the corner of your eye, you followed her as she unloaded the contents of her purse. She pulled out a torn notepad and a vintage-leather pencil case, which must have seen better days. She reached back into her designer bag, face distraught as her search came up empty.

She tried grabbing the attention of two boys on her right side, tied deep into their conversation. When she eventually realised she had no other option, her gaze tiptoed towards you. “Sorry to bother you again.” Teeth nibbling at her lip, she forced herself to get over her embarrassing mistake seconds earlier. “Do you have a pen I can borrow?”

Even if your shin had hurt worse, you would have still helped her out. With a genuine smile, you nodded, searching your pencil case and then your bag.

“I wanted to grab one before leaving my room, but I noticed a stain on my shirt and needed to change it. So, I forgot about the pen,” the girl recounted her morning ventures. “I’m so sorry for bothering you.”

“You’re not bothering me,” you assured her. Your smile turned to an apologetic scowl once you realised you couldn’t help her out after all. “I’m sorry. I always carry at least one extra pen, but scatterbrain next to me left his head in bed this morning.”

“You talking ‘bout me?”

Jisung, who you hadn’t expected to react to the mention of his unflattering nickname, turned to you.

“Hey, Felix,” you called the boy two seats from yours, ignoring your boyfriend. “Do you happen to have a spare pen?”

“Sure. I always carry an extra one in case.”

“Interesting. So, some people do use their heads before leaving the house.” It was a reproachful remark addressed to Jisung and his forgetfulness, and he caught the meaning.

“Some people do use their heads before leaving the house,” he scrunched his nose, teasing you by mimicking your voice and repeating your previous words as you snickered. Your perfect boyfriend, everyone.

Felix handed the pen from his jacket past you, the girl accepting it with a thankful smile.

“You’re a lifesaver.”

“I usually go by Felix. But lifesaver is good, too.”

The girl giggled, before introducing herself, “I’m Yuqi. I live in the student housing off campus. You know, the ones next to that coffee shop with the green doors. It’s open 24/7. Genius marketing move, right?” Biting her lip after that info dump, you noticed her nose doing a little scrunch. “Sorry. I talk a lot.”

“I haven’t noticed,” Jisung joked, your elbow gracing his rib at his sarcasm. You wondered if there would ever come a day you didn’t have to act as his personalised filter.

“Don’t listen to the idiot next to me,” you declared, “I find it charming.”

“Me, too,” Felix agreed, and Yuqi relaxed. It told you that she usually didn’t get that reaction when spraying words like a waterfall.

“I live in the same building.”

Excitement took over her features. “What? No way! Which room?”

“B4.”

Yuqi shrieked, her hand touching your arm, “I’m B12! That makes us floormates.”

“I guess it does.” Yuqi was the first person you met who lived in the same building that wasn’t your roommate or her girlfriend. “I’m Y/N. And this,” you thumbed back at your boyfriend, “this is Jisung.”

“Hi,” he greeted her with an awkward wave.

“Nice to meet you all.”

With that, Yuqi picked up her purse, pulling out an old folder. Well, it appeared to be rather new, but the edges were already torn, some of the plastic cover coming off the corners. The latter especially gave you an ick, and you forcefully pushed down the urge to smooth over them. You could handle some chaos, even if this was a lot.

Good thing, Yuqi spoke up again, giving something different to concentrate on.

“What’s your major?”

“I’m doing Business Admin.” Before you could return the question, Yuqi already reacted, hand touching your biceps in excitement.

“No freakin’ way! I’m in Marketing.” The delight in her voice was addictive as you couldn’t help a grin pulling on your lips. “See, I even wore the perfect outfit for our first lecture later today.”

Yuqi leaned back, giving you a better look at her clothing.

She was in a pair of white jeans, a rosé-coloured blouse adorning the upper half of her lean figure. A single, thin gold necklace decorated her neckline, fitting the two golden earrings. The one thing that stood out in that well-rounded outfit was her other earrings. About a dozen of them decorated both ears from the dainty top to the slim bottom. To round the fit off, she wore a pair of light-pink high heels. The very same that had already made acquaintance with your shin.

“Pretty, right?”

“Very girlboss,” you agreed in earnest. Your own clothes contrasted her colourful optics, made up of mostly black items.

“I’m so glad I’m not the only girl in the classes.” There was a hint of playful disgust in her statement, making you chuckle. “All the other people I met who are in Business were boys. Not that boys are bad or anything. I love boys. But they can be—a lot.”

“I get it. I lived with three boys back home. Well, technically, my dad is a man,” you air-quoted, “but where’s the difference, right?” Yuqi chuckled. “It’s nice to have a girl around every once in a while.”

Yuqi reached for her coffee cup as her gaze wandered to the grey haired middle-aged man who entered the room. He walked up to the desk at the end of the hall, his briefcase landing on the table with a loud thud.

With that, you straightened up, pen in hand and ready to take notes the second your prof opened his mouth.

05:23 PM: Hey, are you studying in the dorm tonight?—Y/N 05:25 PM: No. The place is all yours :)—Hwasa 05:25 PM: Is lover boy coming over again ;)—Hwasa 05:26 PM: He’s hanging out with his roommate tonight... Bonding. I’m thinking about inviting a friend over. I met her at orientation earlier this week—Y/N 05:27 PM: Sounds fun—Hwasa 05:27 PM: Anything special planned?—Hwasa 05:27 PM: Not yet. Maybe eat something and a movie? Explore the city?—Y/N 05:28 PM: You wanna explore this bar Joey’s? I’m meeting some friends there later. Happy Hour starts at 8—Hwasa 05:29 PM: You sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude—Y/N 05:29 PM: I told you I’d be taking you out one of these days—Hwasa 05:30 PM: Texting you the address right now!—Hwasa

Stepping through the dark wooden doors, a wall of warmth hit you like a thick blanket.

It had gotten colder the past few days, fall beginning to hit the city. You took off your scarf, looking around the place in search of the familiar, pretty face.

This place seemed to be the city’s hotspot, every table packed to full capacity. Red velveteen clad the round tables right by the entrance, the seating options becoming wider once you reached the back. Couches fanned out in random patterns all over the dark oak floor. The furniture’s vintage finish further accented the brown parquet.

You felt like you had stepped straight into a movie scene.

The wave of a dainty hand over the crowd’s heads caught your attention as you spotted your roommate in the back. You grabbed Yuqi by the hem of her sleeve, dragging her behind you as you made your way to the group of girls with a smile.

“Hello,” you greeted the table once you had gotten close enough for them to see you.

Hwasa hugged you in bliss, almost tipping over the drink in front of her, “Hi! I’m so glad you could make it.” As she noticed Yuqi, she pulled her in for another warm embrace, “Nice to meet you! I’m Hwasa.”

“Yuqi,” your friend replied, joy written on her face at the enthusiastic welcome.

Knowing Hwasa and her usual calm persona, you knew she must have already taken full advantage of Happy Hour.

“Nice to meet you.” You introduced yourself to the two unfamiliar faces, sending Wheein a quick nod as she met it with a smile.

The two girls with your roommate and her girlfriend couldn’t have been much older than them. The first had straight black hair reaching the bottom of her back, at least from what you could tell. The other sported a short grey bob. It highlighted her sharp jaw in what you could only describe as a tomboy-ish look. Like Wheein and Hwasa, they were beautiful and made you somewhat self-conscious. You shouldn’t have come here unprepared, or put on mascara, at least.

First to introduce herself was the black-haired girl, her smile almost blinding you. “Hi, I’m Solar.”

An extraordinary name for an extraordinary beautiful person. Fitting. In your mind, there was no doubt she made people of any gender fall in love with her the moment she stepped into a room. Her calm, almost carefree aura was truly something else.

“And I’m Byul.” She was just as pretty, though in a less traditional sense. A boyish charm surrounded her, though her blazer hinted at a seriousness to her person. She looked—important.

You introduced yourself and Yuqi, pulling out the two remaining chairs. They must have fought off several people to reserve these. “Are you students, too?”

“We used to be,” Solar explained as she emptied her tulip-coloured drink.

The girls seemed to have stocked up on various drinks; more glasses than people were at the table. If the drinks were half as good as they looked, you’d be in for a long night.

“We graduated last year,” the black-haired beauty continued, bumping shoulders with Hwasa. “I used to be Hwasa’s roommate, actually.”

“I didn’t even notice!” Hwasa giggled, thus proving your assumption about the amount of alcohol consumed before your arrival. “She’s my ex, and you’re my next.”

You chuckled in amusement, reaching for the menu at the edge of the table. The faux leather was soft beneath your fingertips as you skimmed over the Happy Hour options. When your eyes landed on your favourite drink, a smile spread on your lips as you handed the menu over to Yuqi.

“They have Long Island Ice Tea in three different flavours?” Yuqi exclaimed, the scenic buzz of this place rubbing off on her. Not that she wasn’t this emotional about almost anything. “Would it be very immature to try them all tonight?”

“Not at all. I am browsing through the new offers myself. We can get drunk together.”

Not a fair fight. Hwasa had already gotten a head start.

You called over the waiter by raising your hand, and he headed for your table not a minute later. He raised an unintentional eyebrow at the consumption level—One Mojito, three Long Island Ice Teas and another Piña Colada and Gin Tonic. Even so, the boy sent you a smile, spinning around and wandering back to the bar.

Once he was gone, Hwasa swiftly emptied her previous drink. All it took was one strong sip through her straw, and the Tonic and ice was gone. The coldness reached her brain soon after, prompting her eyes to grow wider—like those of a comic-book figure.

“Babe, you should slow down,” Wheein suggested with a chuckle. But her girlfriend waved her off.

“I’m fine. Also, I don’t have any courses tomorrow, so I have the whole day to sleep off that hangover I’ll be having.”

“Great. I’ll remind you when you’re hugging the toilet seat later.”

“I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“Mhm.” Wheein didn’t seem uber-convinced Hwasa would keep her promise but let it go anyways.

As the girls went back to their previous conversation, you tried your best to follow them.

You understood that Solar was passed over for a big promotion at her job and that she was convinced, her boss was sleeping with her opponent.

“What do you do for work?” Yuqi’s question took the words right out of your mouth.

“I am an assistant buyer at a small fashion label,” Solar explained, making you look at Hwasa in surprise.

“Don’t you also study fashion?” Taking a sip from her already empty glass, she nodded in silence. You frowned when you noticed her uncomfortable look at Wheein following your words. There must have been some form of backstory, and the last thing you wanted was to make things awkward. Instead you attempted correcting your mistake. “I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?”

Passing a few glances around the table, Byul finally spoke up. “Our cutie Hwasa here used to study Chemistry full-time. She developed a small crush on Solar in her second year, so, she changed majors to spend more time with her.”

It took a moment to dawn on you why Wheein and Hwasa had reacted the way they did.

“Yes, but I hadn’t met my love then.” Hwasa bobbed her girlfriend’s nose, pouting to cheer her up. After a few seconds, Wheein couldn’t stop her frown from turning into a giggle. They were just the cutest.

“You’re a little drunk, aren’t you?”

“Drunk of love!”

“I stand corrected. You’re absolutely hammered.”

Playfully nudging her girlfriend, Wheein relaxed, emptying her own drink. Non-alcoholic, from what you had gathered.

“Anyways, since Solar is into boys only—”

“Men,” Solar interrupted her friend with a sigh. “I stopped dating boys a long time ago. They never know where to put things.”

“Sorry, since Solar is into men only,” Byul corrected, her eyes meeting yours again, “that didn’t work out. Now Hwasa is stuck with fashion. She met Wheein not too long after.”

“That’s right!”

The enthusiasm in her reaction made Hwasa finally tip over her glass. The melted ice cubes went all over the table, the cool liquid running down the sides. Some of it landed on your jeans, so while Hwasa apologised profusely, you called over the waiter a second time in five minutes.

A moment later, the young man rushed over with your drinks, handing you a towel to dry yourself. It didn’t go by you that his gaze focused on you for a few extra beats, but you ignored it. Your returned the now moist towel with kindness and he left with a light blush.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t notice that.” Solar’s caught your attention by the touch of her hand as she nodded towards the waiter.

“Notice what?”

“That the waiter was flirting with you,” she explained, looking around the table. “You noticed too, didn’t you?”

Byul agreed, “Sure did.”

“You’re not one of those girls who are, like, super slow on cues, right?” You chuckled at her question, shaking your head.

“No, I noticed, too.”

The confusion on the beauty’s face made you chuckle a little. “So what, then? He’s cute. Get his number.”

“Nah, I’m good.” You waived her off, taking a sip from your fresh drink. The rum burned down your throat, the lime juice and sugar adding a bittersweet taste to it. “Also, I don’t think my boyfriend would be particularly happy with me asking other men for their number.”

If everyone’s focus hadn’t been on you already, it sure was now.

“You have a boyfriend?”

“Very much so, yes.”

Solar seemed surprised by the information.

“Is it serious? I mean, you obviously shouldn’t cheat on him. But you are at university. If you don’t explore and get to know yourself now, when will you get another chance?”

You took another sip to ease the discomfort from being the center of attention. Not exactly where you usually were. “We’ve been together for five years. I’d say that’s pretty serious.” That did the trick, her mouth now agape in shock. She leaned in closer to you, cradling her chin in her palm.

“Five years? So, you’re High School Sweet Hearts?”

“Middle School, actually.”

“Is he any hot?” Yuqi interrupted, also leaning in further. How your relationship had become the talk of the whole table had gone right by you.

“What do you mean? You met him at orientation. He sat right next to me.”

“No way! That’s your boyfriend?” You hummed, agreeing. “But you called him dumbass like 5 times in one hour.”

“I did, but it’s more a term of endearment. I call Jisung dumbass; he calls me stupid. It’s a whole thing.”

As soon as you had cleared that up, Solar was back at it, hitting you with question after question.

“Wait, but like, for real. You’ve never been with anyone else since Middle School?”

You shook your head, correcting her statement. “I’ve never been with anyone else ever.”

Usually, you never talked about yourself and your relationship this much. You were rather private in that sense, though, you also understood their curiosity. It wasn’t every day that you met someone who had been with the same person since they were 14. You understood the length of your relationship was uncommon for someone your age.

“So, he’s your first boyfriend?”

“Yup.”

“So, you never kissed anyone else? Had sex with anyone else?” Byul further interrogated, now also fully invested in your love life. That you had only met the girls maybe 20 minutes ago seemed irrelevant. Not like you hadn’t seen that question coming sooner or later.

You agreed with a nod. “I never wanted anyone else.”

“How do you even maintain a relationship for that long?” Yuqi budded in again, her focus different from the older women’s. “My longest relationship lasted 4 months, and then I got tired of him.” For some reason, her statement made so much sense to you. Yuqi definitely needed constant excitement to fill her heart. “What’s your secret.”

You thought about it before answering shortly, “Shared trauma, maybe?” When no one laughed at your words, you backtracked. Your honesty might have been too much for them after all. “That was a joke. Obviously. We have a lot in common and went through similar stuff in life.”

It became quiet for a few seconds, though you sensed that Solar was holding back. Whatever she might have had dancing on the tip of her tongue, she took her sweet time wording it in her pretty head.

“Please, don’t take this the wrong way.” Always a great way to start a sentence. “If the shoe fits, tie that bitch up. But you’re in college now. This is your time to explore your interests—your options. No one comes out of college the way they go in. It’s a life-changing experience.”

“So, I should cheat on my boyfriend, is what you’re saying?” You started getting a little defensive now that your love life appeared to be under attack. All the attention got uncomfortable as much as you understood where it was coming from.

“That’s not what I was saying at all.” Some of the tension fell from your shoulders. “I’m saying people change. So, don’t be surprised if your boyfriend and you don’t work out.” Still not the direction you wanted this conversation to go. But Solar continued anyway. “Take Byul, for example.”

Solar leaned back, her hand coming to her friend’s shoulder.

“Byul started college, wanting to become a lawyer.” Byul nodded, agreeing. Her blazer somehow made more sense now. “She finished her degree and opened her own music production studio not two months later. And Hwasa—” With that, Solar went on to your roommate, who threw her a playful wink. “The first year of college, she cycled between so many partners, we were certain, she’d end up pregnant or with an STD. And look at her now.”

From how lovingly Hwasa was gazing at Wheein, there was no doubt in your mind that she had happily moved on from those days.

“And when Wheein started college,” Solar continued her list, “she was straight as a ruler. Do you see what I’m saying?”

“I do.”

And it was the truth. You understood that most people used college to find their path in life. The women around you were the best example for it. All four of them had found their place in the world, who they wanted to be, through university. You didn’t doubt that whatever had happened to them was necessary for them to grow into the women they were today.

At the same time, you knew your life better than anyone else at this table. You remembered every little thing you had gone through together, with Jisung. You understood how his mind worked. What he struggled with and how to get him through it emotionally—you had witnessed most of it with your own eyes.

And there was nothing one-sided about it either. There was no doubt in your mind that the same went for Jisung. He knew you like the palm of his hand—and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I’m still very sure we are not gonna break up.”

“I hope you don’t.” Yuqi finally came to your rescue, cutting the tensive atmosphere. “He’s adorable.”

Thankfully, Solar accepted it as the end of story. She sat back as Yuqi diverted the conversation from you to Byul, asking her about her work at the studio. You calmed down as the centre of attention drew from you and towards the ins and outs of the music industry. When Hwasa playfully bumped her shoulder into yours, you looked up at her. A teasing wink showcased her support and affection. And probably her drunkenness.

“Sorry about her. Solar can be very straightforward, but she has a good soul. She’s a realist, and very openly so.”

“It’s alright,” you told her, taking your glass and a huge sip of your Mojito. “I know most relationships at our age don’t last. But we’re solid as a rock. It’d need a tsunami to separate us.”

You hoped the rest of the night would go a little less awkward than this. Though, as the alcohol ultimately entered your system, you soon forgot about the whole conversation.

“I’m gonna be sick.”

A second later Hwasa bent over the nearest bush.

“What happened?”

“She got sick,” you explained the situation as you used your hair tie to fixate Hwasa’s long locks behind her neck. “You good?”

Hwasa wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and nodded as she stumbled towards the housing entrance. Wheein supported her other side, the two of you exchanging concerned looks.

“Is she gonna be alright?”

“I think so. It usually takes a glass of water and an aspirin, and she’ll be back to her old self.” You didn’t doubt Wheein knew how her girlfriend usually handled alcohol. “I’m gonna take her to my room to make sure. It’s closer to the bathroom, and I don’t have a roommate she could disturb.”

“You have a single room?” Yuqi questioned in surprise. Her enthusiasm after midnight was still higher than yours had been all evening. “Man, I should become dorm supervisor next year.”

“It has its perks.”

Yuqi took over once you had reached your room, holding up Hwasa so they could lead her to her girlfriend’s room.

“Good night. Call me if you need help,” you told Wheein, who nodded thankfully.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” After Yuqi had bidden her goodbye, you turned to your door, entering the four-digit code to unlock it.

Once inside, you rid yourself of your shoes, turning the lights on as you set your bag down by your dresser.

A groan came from your bed, making you jump and stumble back against the wooden cupboard. Your blanket moved at the disturbance, a bulge the size of a grown person appearing underneath it. It took a mop of familiar brown hair to calm you as you realise that not an intruder had overtaken your bed.

“Dang it! Jisung, you creep! You almost gave me a heart attack.”

Noticing the tired haze in his eyes, you strolled over to him. You slid next to his torso as your hand reached for his chubby cheek, grazing his skin. It woke him up, your action met with a sigh and his head leaning comfortably against your palm.

Under the blanket, you noticed his shirt, which didn’t even begin to cover his bulging biceps. It took you a moment to recognise why it didn’t fit him like his other clothes usually did.

“Are you wearing my crop top again?” Amusement laced your tone.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You almost didn’t understand him, his vague mumbling blurrier than typical. He must have been asleep for a while.

“What are you doing here? I thought you wanted to hang out with Felix tonight.” You took out your earrings, neatly placing them on the small nightstand by your bed. “What happened to bonding with your roomie?”

“We hung out for four hours,” he explained with a yawn. “Then I came over because I missed you.”

Running your hand down the side of his face, he grabbed it as soon as he could reach it. He brought it to his lips to give your skin a quick peck.

“Now, come to bed, so we can sleep.”

“I need to get changed and brush my teeth first.”

“I can help you get out of your clothes. And I don’t care if your breath stinks.”

“I care.” You got off your bed to rush through your evening routine so you could fall into your love’s arms already. Yet, your intentions were rudely interrupted. “What the heck!”

Before you could take a step, Jisung’s arm snapped out from beneath your blanket, pulling you back. You couldn’t react fast enough as he dragged you into a lying position next to him, still fully clothed.

“See? I don’t care.”

“What about the light?”

Lifting his head off your pillow, he grabbed the tissue box from your nightstand and tossed it at the light switch. You didn’t know when he had suddenly learned to aim, but it hit smack-bang in the middle, shutting off all the light in your room.

“I gotta admit, that was impressive.”

“Now, let’s get you out of those clothes.”

You giggled as he effortlessly opened the button and zipper of your pants and dragged them down your legs. He tossed them towards the end of the bed, to be dealt with tomorrow. Next was your top, which he swiftly brought over your head, throwing it to join the rest of your clothes.

“If you only cleaned as quick as you undress me.”

“Everybody has their own forté.” You snickered at his words, closing the gap between you. “I could also be way quicker than that. We haven’t had sex in a week. Right now, your clothes are my nemesis.”

The heat of his body caught you in a warm hug, “A week already, huh?”

“8 days and 7 hours, to be exact. But who’s counting?” His arm came around you, scooting you closer so your back pressed flat against his chest.

“You wanna reset that clock?”

“Nah,” he brushed your suggestion off. “I’m way too tired to have sex right now.”

“Tomorrow then?”

“About that.” His hot breath fanned over your neck. “I know it’s date night, but there’s this party I was invited to. I thought we could go to that instead.”

“A party?” It was the first week of university. How had your introverted boyfriend already been invited to a party? You should have probably seen the answer coming. “Whose?”

“I think you know.”

Of course, you knew. How could you not when his parties had been legendary even back in the day? Though, until now, you had suppressed his present at this campus all together. His being the one who shalln’t be named.

You thought about Jisung’s suggestion for a second.

Sure, a party would intervene with your bi-weekly date night. And, on top of that, it was organised by someone, you didn’t know how to approach after everything that had gone down. But this was university, after all. And, as Solar had said before: University is a once-in-a-lifetime experience. So, why the heck shouldn’t you go to a party?

“So? What do you say?”

“Fine.” Jisung’s previously unbothered expression turned into a smile as he grazed his lips to your neck. “Just... Don’t tell your sister we’re going. I’m not sure she would appreciate us hanging out with her ex.”

“Lying to my sister? Who are you, and what did you do to my girlfriend?” A yawn hit your ear, your face scrunching at the unwanted ASMR session. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

As Jisung slipped into a deep slumber, your mind raced through the events of your day. It usually did at the end of the day, your mind too tired to do anything productive but too awake to rest. The silence around you allowed you to remember an earlier text message you never got to answer.

Pulling your arm out of your boyfriend’s iron hold on your body, you reached for your phone on the nightstand.

Your dad had sent you a voice message about three hours earlier when you had still been at the bar. You pushed the play button and brought the phone to your ear to not disturb Jisung’s beauty sleep. By all means, he needed it. Or so he said.

“Hi, honey. It’s dad. I hope you had a lovely day and aren’t studying too hard already.” You smiled at his words, knowing it was one of his biggest hopes for you to get some time to yourself. “Remember what I told you when you left? Live a little!” A pause as he was seemingly picking up something from the ground. “I just wanted to ask when you were coming home Friday. I’m planning brunch with you two and Jia, so if you could be here by noon, that’d be great.”

Friday was the day after tomorrow. You hadn’t forgotten you’d be going back home for the weekend, but you sure hoped the party tomorrow wouldn’t keep you up all night. If you had to be home by noon, you’d have to leave campus by ten. And after a party, like you expected this one to be, you prayed you and a certain someone wouldn’t be too hungover.

“Anyways, sleep tight, and have a lovely night. We miss you!”

A second voice appeared in the background, not too far from your father’s, and your heart skipped a happy beat. The words were harder to make out as he was munching on an apple, cereal, or something else crunchy.

Still, there wouldn’t come a day you wouldn’t understand his babbling.

“Come home soon, please! Mhpf—I miss you, mommy.”

With a loving smile plastered on your face, you replied with a heart emoji. After such a perfect goodnight-messaged, you’d be sleeping like a stone tonight.

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heartthrobin · 9 months

Text

and i serve the fairy queen, to dew her orbs upon the green (3)

sam winchester x fairy!reader

wc: 6.7k

warnings: soulmate!au (partners share scars), fem!reader, hella pining, tooth-rotting fluff, destiel is canon, some jealous sammy, implied age gap (reader is early 20's), town (still!) being mean to reader, some shaky goblin lore, references to thick reader (everyone cheered) but can be ignored, dean being dean, canon-typical warnings (child kidnapping, violence ect.)

an: part 3 of my little fairy series! i'm sorry it took so long, uni is fighting me with both hands at the moment. but i promise the last part won't take as long :3 enjoyyyyy. remember to comment and repost to support your favourite writers :)

summary: you thought about Sam Winchester in a way that couldn't possibly be normal. but who did he think he was, walking around buying you crocodiles and sending you his jacket and looking so damn handsome all the time?

part one part two part four

Four thirty-five. Long hand brushing over the seven, short hand stretching just past the four.

You wondered if the clock was actually ticking. You could still hear it somewhere around the time the little hand was knocking up against the one, but now it was quiet.

Had your mind drowned it out or was the clock even working? It was actually only half visible against the wall of the corridor past the bars of your cell, so maybe--

There was a booming crack from somewhere down the corridor, like someone had thrown a hefty stack of papers down on a desk.

You sunk deeper into the suit jacket. It was warm, smelt of cologne, and at some point around two o' clock the smell had coaxed you off to sleep against the concrete wall.

There was a long stretch of time where you wondered if those kids out there felt the same. If their little heads were pressed against a cold hard wall, convincing themselves to sleep even if just for a while.

You wondered if they were together. You hoped they were together.

There was a tiny window in the cell. When it was still daylight you could see a tree shivering in the wind, now you could only hear it rustling.

It was an easy escape, you knew that. You could have yourself out of the cold, grey room before the long hand found the eight but ... alas. Maybe it was just better to wait it out.

Chlorokinesis. A neat little trick, but one that would have you behind bars again at another time, or tied to a wooden stake and burnt.

The latter sounded mildly more interesting than staring at the quiet clock against the wall.

But you couldn't. If not for the exposure of yourself and the risk on your livelihood, for the look on Sam's face when you proved him and his brother's doubts true. When you tore through the bar cells, whipped officers aside like chess pieces on a shaky board and proved yourself the monster at the end of town. The witch.

You sighed loudly into the cell, your hands found your face. The sleeves on the jacket were far too long for your arms and the smell of Sam surrounded you again.

God, you couldn't catch a break.

Beyond the town's cold shoulder and the unplanned arrest: Sam Winchester's face had been plaguing you since the moment you found him and his brother on your doorstep.

It was like you could feel when he grew near.

Your palms would warm, as if pressed around a warm mug, heart-rate quickening like a hare through the brush and your wings would shiver in and out of sight: quick enough to avoid the accusatory gazes of humans. They never noticed anything further than the tip of their noses anyway.

He didn't make things any better, mind you.

With his tall figure, leaving you frantically lost in his shadow, and buying you crocodiles and sending you his jacket.

The officer hadn't mentioned it was him, but you knew. If not by it's size, by it's warmth and it's smell and the way your wings pressed happily against the silky inner-stitching.

It had occurred to you that they probably still had the intention of killing you before leaving town, as the Winchester name suggested. They killed monsters, it was part of the gig.

The thought hadn't made the dips and slopes of Sam's face any easier to digest. Hadn't made the raging urge to tug him in by his collar against your lips any less.

It was so pathetic, the whole thing!

Your mother had promised you a handsome elf, or maybe a brawny satyr. That your arms would gleam with the shine of sword-swung wounds and the bites of arrows.

But you were bruised and torn with bullet holes and kitchen blades and sharp teeth.

Patience, patience, patience.

That's what they preached, humans and fairy-folk alike.

Everyone just had to wait. To be patient. They'll come along when you least expect them.

It was easy to jump, to imagine that every kind glance across the room or brush of an arm in a crowded coffee shop was the one. It was suffocating, the entire affair!

So you pulled your sleeves from your face, turning to lean your head back against the crumbly stone wall as far away as your nose could turn from the scent. Sam's scent.

You stupidly pushed Sam from your brain, like you'd done time and time before when the winter crept colder and colder each year and the yearning for a warmth crept stronger and stronger.

Instead, you pondered on your animals, in a cold room just behind your own. You could hear their yipping and whining sometimes through the wall. Your chest tightened at the sound and you'd patted away the warm tears down your face when you did.

There was another sound down the corridor. A screech. A chair scraping over the stone floors, then footsteps.

They neared until another faceless officer appeared into view. His paces jingled with a ring keys hanging at his side. You perked up at the sound.

He avoided your eyes, instead he worked to slot the key into the cell door. "Twelve hours is up. You can go."

You rose on unsteady legs, calves and thighs frozen stiff against the steel bench. "I can go?"

"'s what I said."

You nodded, tightening the jacket around your frame. You stepped past him into the fuzzy yellow light of the corridor and he handed you a manila envelope, the shape of your house keys lumped under it's wet glue seal.

"My animals?"

The man still wasn't meeting your face. "You can collect them after eight o' clock when the station opens."

Your fingers twisted between your palms.

"Okay." It came out small, tired. "Thank you."

He didn't respond, instead pointing you down the corridor.

In the foyer, the desks had been abandoned. Lights were off closer to the back of the room. You figured the guard at your cell was the only one on nightshift.

By the door was a long wooden bench, there was a man hunched over: head leaning into dinner plate sized hands.

His gaze lifted at the sound of your footsteps.

That rolling feeling of warmth rushed down your throat and between your organs again.

"Sam?"

He rose to his feet, a hand pressing his long chestnut hair out his face.

"Hey." He sighed and you neared him. Closer up, you could make out the exhaustion buzzing around his eyes. His shoulders slumped with it too.

"What are you doing here at this hour?" You laughed softly, laughter laced in confusion.

He shrugged, mouth forming around words and reshaping them a couple times before settling on: "I wanted to make sure you were okay."

The situation dawned on you, smile slipping quickly off your face and the relief you'd felt at his presence rinsed out with guilt.

"You didn't ... have you been here all night?"

Sam swiped at his mouth with one of his wide paws, he shrugged again. "Yeah, uhm, I was."

Your throat tightened at the revelation. "You ... you shouldn't have. I was just fine--"

"Yeah, in this freezing station where all these people think you kidnap children."

Lips parted in still unformed words, you watched his fidgeting hands, but he stopped you before you could say anything else.

"It's fine. I wanted to be here." His eyes were soft, sincere. "Anyways, you hungry? Want a coffee or something?"

"Uhm--"

"Actually, you probably just wanna go home ... I can call a lift--?"

"No," it came out louder than either of you had expected. Sam blinked at you. You swallowed hard. "I-- yeah, I would actually. I'm starving. I'm sure you are, too. There's a diner a few blocks down from here i-if you wanna walk?"

Sam nodded slowly.

“Yeah. That sounds good.”

Beyond the wind brushing at leaves down the sidewalk, it was quiet outside the station. There was not one other person down the foggy streetlamp-lit road.

Sam's strides were long, reaching further with each step wherein took you two of the same. His crisp white shirt shone starkly even in the low light and his tie grappled tiredly around the bend of his neck.

"So," his voice ripped your eyes from were they'd been nudging at the bottom-most button on his shirt, lingering dangerously close to the line of his belt. "What happened?"

A velvety red pressed against your cheeks. You hoped the darkness hid your quiet embarrassment.

"Uh, I was out to go check on some trees that were showing signs of sickness a few days ago." You shrugged, hands fiddling with the manila envelope. "Also, Goose needed a walk. I think he bit one of the officers."

Sam laughed at that. The sound made your throat tighten.

His head was thrown back against his shoulders, hair tickling the space between it's blades. With the angled light of the lamps, his neck became a mosaic of shadows. It's slopes and dips proving it an alter to which you'd decided you could pray at forever.

Your own laugh came out breathless, it tinkled lightly beside his.

"Don't laugh! I feel bad about it."

He shook his head. "You shouldn't."

You shrugged. Flickers of splintered memories blinked at you behind your tired lids.

The thud of officers crushing through the underbrush towards you. Goose's wild, scared yips. The burnt cloud of a cigarette suffocated beneath a boot, tossed somewhere between the fresh green blades of your front lawn.

"They were just doing their job."

Sam's eyes found you, you could feel his gaze warming the side of your face, but he didn't answer. Instead he ran a hand up his forearm, then down again.

Your eyes widened, "Oh--oh, I'm so rude ..."

Beneath the stronghold of it's thick weight against your shoulders, you'd abandoned the memory of Sam's jacket over your frame. You went to shrug it off.

"You must be freezing, I didn't even say thank you--"

You'd stalled to a pause, sleeves halfway down your arms, when two warm palms closed over your shoulders. They sent a sharp, blistering shudder through every molecule in your body.

There was a loud tinkle and your shimmering pair of opalescent wings popped into view. They glowed faintly in the dark space.

Sam's eyes flew open widely, his hands pulled back suddenly as if you'd burnt him.

"I'm ... sorry," he shook his head. "I w-was just ... gonna say that y-you should keep it on. You're gonna freeze in that tiny little dress."

You watched where his eyes struggled to part from the shining protrusions behind your head. You turned over his sharp features in your mind carefully.

"Thank you."

He nodded, gaze flickering between your wings and your face.

The warmth of your palm sunk into your fingers where you wrung them out.

"You can touch them, if you want?"

Sam's eyebrows flew into his hairline, his mouth opened ... there was an almost no, that's okay forming on his lips, you were sure you saw it, but instead he nodded.

"Yeah ... I do."

You nodded too, slipping the jacket to bunch just over your wrists so the wings could stretch comfortably out past your frame.

Sam stepped impossibly close, bringing you nose to nose with his endless expanse of chest. It was warm there.

A long arm stretched over your frame. It was unthinkable to resist the view from under Sam's jaw. Your eyes meandered up his shoulder, over his neck to watch his shallow breaths, his furrowed brow and the tentativeness in his shifting.

You felt when his fingertips met the wings, if not informed by Sam's sharp intake of breath.

"Someone told me once that it feels like dipping your hand into warm water."

His eyes glanced down to where you were tucked beneath his arm, considering the suggestion. You could feel his palm run from the pointed edge down towards your shoulder blade.

"That's ... that's pretty accurate."

He retracted his hand, but he lingered. His lashes grazed his cheek where he looked down at you.

"They're pretty." He said quietly. A secret.

His eyes flickered around your face, nervous in their pursuit of somewhere to rest.

If you just leaned on the tips of your toes, if you just tugged lightly down on the end of that already tempting tie ...

You shook your head, gathering the willpower to break your gaze: bringing it to the space between your feet.

"Let's go. It's just down the next block." Quiet in return. Another secret, but a promise. A promise of maybe we can come to this again.

The diner was just a little further. The Frothy Mug.

It had been one of your first stops when you'd moved to town, almost three years ago. Most mornings since then, too.

But it had been weeks since you'd come in. Almost seven, the same week Georgia Abbott was snatched out from her back yard. The day you became the monster under their beds.

The walkway up the steps were damp, slippery with early forming ice. Sam's hand was at your back. You smiled into your chest.

There was a jingle where Sam pushed the door open, gesturing you ahead of him. The starchy light was comfortable in it's familiarity, painful in that way too.

The Frothy Mug was barren beyond a single man perched at the bar-top with a mug between his hands, eyes tired beneath a trucker hat. He waved vaguely at your passing figures.

Behind the counter, a ruggedly feminine voice called out through the kitchen window, "be with y'all in a sec!"

Shifting awkwardly, still draped in the quilt of Sam's jacket, into the booth: he chuckled softly at you.

"Hey, not my fault you're the size of a juvenile sasquatch." You shrugged.

"I didn't say anything."

"Actually," You went to correct yourself. "Maybe more pre-teen. You're not that big."

Sam frowned for a second. His head tilted.

"Bigfoot ..." Brow knotted again, "He's not ... not real, is he?"

You patted down the front of your dress over your legs, "They. It's a species, and of course they are."

There was a long moment of silence. Sam's gaze drifted off into the distance, it took a long moment before he shrugged. "Okay."

"It's a wonder how surprised you guys are with these things: fairies and bigfoots and forestfolk, considering how much you've probably already seen."

"Sorry y'all," Two thin menus slid abruptly onto the shining grey surface, a thin, dirty blonde woman hovered over the table. "Can I get some coffees, so long--?"

The woman's eyes found you. Her posture stiffened and her face whitened as if visited by a spectre.

There it was again. That same icy liquid dripping down the back of your throat when they looked at you like that. When the sheriff had slapped a pair of handcuffs on you and thrown you in the backseat of a cop car.

"Mornin'," Sam spoke first. "Yeah, I'll have a black coffee. And ..."

His hand motioned over you, eyes imploring.

"Uhm," you could make out the scowl deepening in her features, you purposefully met Sam's face. "I'll have a tea. With milk and sugar, please?"

"No tea." It was sharp and you flinched like she'd stung you.

"Oh," you nudged the menu closer to you. "A hot chocolate?"

The woman, Teresa, sighed: eyes raking over your figure. You recognised her from when you'd still come through.

"No hot chocolate."

You sighed, teasing the worn corner of the menu with your cold fingertips. "I'll-- just some water then. Please."

But Teresa hadn't moved. Eyes burning into the side of your face where you were working hard to hold a neutral expression, focusing on your lap. She snatched the menus unceremoniously off the metal table.

Sam hadn't noticed anything in the first few seconds, but he was quickly starting to do the math.

The little space between his eyebrows was crumpling like it did when he was growing annoyed. His eyes were warming too, irritation watering in the corners.

"Is there a problem here?"

But Teresa's eyes hadn't left you. "You have some nerve walking in here. You should have skipped town a long time ago, and taken that zoo with you."

Your shoulders deflated, not distinctly surprised, but rather wearied.

"I'm sorry you feel that way." It was all you said, not meeting her eye.

"Right." Sam was already shuffling out the booth. He all but shoved the woman out the way to your side of the booth, he stuck his hand out for you to take. "We're leaving."

Without another thought, as if on instinct, you reached your hand to mould into his own. He nudged you gently out the booth past the woman who scathed at your retreating figures.

"And don't come back!"

The door met the frame with a crack where Sam had slammed it.

He huffed out into the cold, and your brain was buzzing with his hand is so warm, his hand is so warm, his hand is so--

Cold nipped again at the edges of your dress. You sighed. "I'm sorry."

His hair flicked wildly over his shoulder where his head snapped to find yours. Incredulity pressed deep into his frown lines.

"You're sorry?" He huffed, blowing a strand of hair from his forehead.

Your hand tightened against his, you didn't mean to, but you did feel bad.

"Yeah, now we can't get breakfast. It's the only place in town open this early."

"Fuck breakfast!"

"Sam?" A small, confused laugh punctuated his outburst.

"That woman was horrible. Do you get this everywhere? I mean, it's the third time I've seen it and I've barely been in town a week. Do you?"

Your chuckle dissolved when you found his face looming, again too close for the wires in your brain to transport messages efficiently. Anger dripped off his features.

The question lingered.

"Yeah." You nodded. "I do."

"And you just take it?"

That picked at a nerve between your brows. "I don't just take it. I choose to be kind, rather than stoop to their level."

Sam's head shook again, confusion dripped off him still. "Why?"

You sighed, he was puffing like an angry dog.

"Kindness will take you farther."

The words settled into the air. The tension in Sam's face ebbed slowly. He was facing you completely again.

"I read it somewhere a long time ago. Stuck with it since."

A warmth settled in your stomach when his thumb started brushing over the side of your palm where your conjoined hands still hung between his hip and yours. He nodded, then sighed.

"Okay. What you wanna do now?"

You shrugged, huffing loudly and allowing yourself to slump against his side in a move your mind made before cowardice could stop you.

"God, this is a lot of decision-making for one night."

Sam laughed. He looked so pretty in the light still reflecting through the grainy diner walls.

"Right." He said. "How about I'll walk you home and you can get some proper rest under a toadstool or wherever it is you fairies sleep."

A velvety blush warmed at your cheeks.

"Sasquatch." You mumbled. Sam smiled again.

Your hands were still connected you noticed. Sam must have followed your eyes.

"I can let go if you want?"

"Nope."

So you walked like that with him.

Your house was more than a couple blocks, too far to walk on a normal day but it was nearly five in the morning: you were falling in love with a monster hunter and you'd just spent the night in a jail cell. A less than regular night if you'd ever had one, and the hour called for such spontaneity.

"So how does a fai-- a dryad end up in a town like this?" He asked, arm still swaying slightly with your own against his side.

A lone car tossed a long shadow down the empty road. It passed noisily.

"I don't know. A bit of roaming combined with youthful curiosity, I guess. I jumped state to state after college--"

"You went to college?"

You laughed loudly, face screwed up in light offence. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Sam raised his free hand in surrender, he was laughing too, "I didn't mean you, I just never thought--"

"What, you don't think fairies go to college?" Your shoulder shifted warmly against his side. "Our heads are just filled with pixie dust or something?"

He shook his head. "Hey, you're the first fairy I've ever met. Can you cut me some slack? A week ago I didn't even know you existed."

"Humans." You huffed. "You're all so ignorant. What's your first impression of me then? Do I live up to what you thought a fairy might be like?"

His eyes brushed over your face, considering you. He nodded. "Yeah. A lot actually."

"That so?" Your arms crossed over your chest, bumping him as you walked. "How?"

"Plenty of ways."

"Like?"

"The tree stuff, and the animals, and the wings of course--"

"Can't forget the wings."

"--And the sparkly clothes and the crystals and stuff."

You nodded. "That it?"

"And you're really pretty. Like how they are in the books and the movies." He shrugged, eyes out on the road ahead like he hadn't turned your stomach to molten lava with how he was tossing his words out so absent-mindedly. "Like, beautiful."

"Oh. Well that's good, I suppose,"

Your brain had gone muddy: a gooey, sticky, melted mess that could come dripping out your ears at any moment soon.

"And what about me? I'm sure I'm not the first hunter you've met, but still ... thoughts?"

You smiled, gathering what braincells still had the motivation to carry on.

"You're nice."

"Nice?" He laughed.

You nodded, "Yeah. The last time I had an encounter with a hunter I left with an arrow through my shoulder."

His eyebrows jumped. "Wow."

"And you're sweeter. Taller too." You shrugged, feeling his gaze flicker over you. "Fantastic hair."

His head ducked, like he was blushing. You hoped he was.

"Not any steep competition, from what I'm gathering."

You shrugged. "You win some you lose some."

"Anyways, you were telling me about college before I rudely projected my fairy prejudices on you." His free hand slipped into his pant pocket.

"I had fun. The drinking, the partying, the taste of freedom."

"What'd you study?"

A loud giggle erupted from you. "I'll give you three guesses."

Another cold rush of wind charged between you, he shivered.

"Don't tell me, not the plants?"

"The plants exactly!"

His footing stumbled between his laughter. "Right, right. How could I imagine anything else."

"Botany, actually. Some work in zoology, animals, but plants mostly."

You tugged at his hand, nudging him down a shorter road in the direction of your house.

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Loved it." You nodded. "What about you, do monster hunters go to college? Or do you guys have a special school for stabbing werewolves and setting fire to corpses?"

"Yeah, yeah. Very funny." His thumb had taken to rubbing circles against the back of your hand. "I did actually. Go to college, I mean. Law school. Never finished though."

Something shadowy passed over his features. You frowned.

"Oh, that's too bad. Why didn't you finish?"

His shoulders slumped, he sighed loudly.

"My girlfriend ... she was, uh, killed by a demon. Kind of got caught up with getting revenge, and then I was sucked back into hunting. Haven't stopped since."

Your breath caught in your throat. It lodged there like a stone.

"I-I'm so sorry to hear that." Maybe it was involuntary, but your hand squeezed against his. It squeezed back.

"It's okay. Happened a long time ago."

A question shuffled nervously to the edge of your tongue.

"Was ... was she your--" you shoulders twitched up against the lining of Sam's jacket that suddenly felt misplaced over your body. "--your other?"

His head shot in your direction as if he’d been electrocuted. “Oh, no, no … just my girlfriend at the time.”

You suddenly felt bad for asking.

“Oh.”

In the distance, a streetlamp revealed the little sliver of sidewalk in front of your house. It drew nearer and the conversation stalled to silence.

Sam was still holding your hand, you remembered blithely.

The sky had also turned a deep purple, threatening to spill into dawn.

You sighed up at it.

“The sky looks so beautiful at this time.”

Sam’s eyes darted between your face and the heavens. “Yeah, it does. I‘ve never really been up to see it.”

Your little patch of the world came passing under your feet. The dewy grass crunched beneath your shoes.

He walked you all the way to the door. His little yawn against his collar didn’t go amiss on you.

“You didn’t have to stay all night, you know?”

Two sets of feet padded up your porch steps. Sam shook his head.

“Of course I did.”

“To make sure I was okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

You twisted to meet his face, the one perched on the head that loomed so far above you.

“I’m stronger than I look, Winchester.”

His eyes sparkled in the low light. “Oh I have no doubts about that.”

You smiled, pressing a gentle thumb against the side of his hand.

“You’re a good person, Sam Winchester.”

With a weary hand, he rubbed a spot behind his neck. “The way you say it almost makes it sound true.”

Your head cocked, almost resting on one shoulder. “Trust me. I have a feel for these things.”

“You make me want to be a good person.”

It hung in the air for a moment. A long moment.

You pulled your hand from his softly, raising it to brush a finger over his cheek just once before dropping it back to your side.

“Goodnight Sam.”

The door clicked open under the key’s persuasion.

“Goodnight.”

It clicked again gently shut.

When morning came, after sleep had long evaded you in the absence of the warmth Goose normally provided from a spot at the base of your bed, you came to find eight metal crates packed neatly on your doormat.

Your animals keened happily at you from within their confines.

Attached to the side of one of the cages was the police release form. At the bottom of the drawling document was a haphazard signature, a sprawling handwriting that you could just make out to read Samuel Winchester.

"So now what?"

Sam slugged back the last of his already cold coffee out the cardboard cup.

Dean was watching him from the side of his eye.

"I guess we go in, see what we can find." Sam shrugged. "The lore's been pretty less than helpful."

Out the front window of the Impala loomed an open stretch of forest, an entryway a little further out of town where they could avoid the prying eyes of nosy residents.

Sam rubbed the back of his fists against his eyes, he yawned.

"You sure you ready to head out there, cowboy? You barely got any sleep."

"Yeah, yeah," Sam nodded. "I'm fine."

Maybe it was a fib. He was exhausted.

He'd only gotten back to the motel around five and barely slept two hours before slipping back out to the police station to make opening time at eight o' clock. Sam figured you deserved the sleep more than he did, electing to unburden you of the humiliation of walking back in there to fetch your animals.

To face more of the unsettling stares and scathing remarks. The whole thing made his skin prickle with anger.

"Whatever you say, Sammy."

Dean tugged his jacket tighter over his chest as they climbed out the side of the car and Sam felt the outline of his blade against his thigh.

The lore on killing goblins had been foggy, but Sam figured it was hard to go wrong with a silver blade.

Loud crunching echoed their every step past the outer line of trees. An eery air settled over where the brothers walked.

"What exactly are we looking for?"

Sam shook his head, overtly wary of his surroundings: half convinced something was moments from leaping out at them.

"Anything that looks out of the ordinary."

They walked for what only could have been hours. Through the thicket of the trees above, it was hard to keep track of the sun. Rather the forest air was draped in a cool shade that made the autumn air even colder.

There were times where they split up, not far apart, but enough to cover more ground. Dean jumped every once in a while over an ambitious tree frog or a wandering deer, but more than that, the search was proving fruitless.

Sam paused for a moment, Dean huffed beside him and by then the sun was leering far enough over the hill that the forest was dipping into early evening darkness.

"Hey man," Dean sighed, leaning his leg up on a log. "Maybe we're looking in the wrong direction. Maybe dad was wrong, thought it was something to do with--"

A beam of light was peaking through the canopy. Specks of moonlight where it was slowly replacing the sun in the sky.

"Dean."

The misty light was shining against the wood of a tall oak that loomed just a way out of their reach. Deep scars etched into it's side, scars that were glowing under the moon's gaze.

Dean found it too.

They moved in unison towards it. The creatures of the forest chirped loudly where they neared.

The shining wounds formed a triangulated symbol, sharp like edges of teeth, surrounded by a skewed circle.

"You ever seen anything like that?" Dean's voice broke through the music of the forest.

Sam shook his head, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and captured a photo. "Nope."

They watched it for a moment.

"Well," Dean yielded. "Guess now we got something to work with. It's getting dark, let's get the hell out of here."

Hours around the desk proved fruitless. Sam had even bargained a trip to the local library, scrounged around in the local lore to come up empty handed.

Noon sun blazed through the open window, nudging against the curtain. Dean tipped back the sweating beer bottle before knocking it down against the desk.

"Nothing I've ever laid my eyes on, sorry to tell you."

Sam groaned against the phone. He nodded as if Garth could see.

"Right. Thanks again, Garth."

"Adios muchacho."

Dean's eyes followed where he killed the line and set the phone against the desk. "Nada?"

"Nada." Sam confirmed.

Shoving his chair back noisily, Dean stretched his legs out with a whine. "Well, you know ... there is someone who might know a little something about this."

Sam leaned his arms over his head, they cracked from the tension of working against the laptop. He could already smell his brother's next words.

"Let me guess."

"Tinkerbell, that's right."

Sam's lips pursed. He pretended to consider his brother's suggestion, as if he wasn't keening for your presence. Like he wasn't constantly engulfed by the gnawing urge to be at your side every single second like how he craved to breath air.

"Yeah, you're probably right."

"I knew you'd think so too."

The Bloom Box.

It was a cramped little shop, squeezed into a tight spot between the laundromat and a pharmacy on main street. Pale faded pink painted brick shimmered in the afternoon glare.

"Well. Can't stay she doesn't stay on brand."

Dean's comment was the last thought that lingered before being swept abruptly from the front of Sam's mind when the little bell over the door jingled jovially.

White orchards twinkled at him from over a marble counter. Pink roses, orange tulips and purple lilies gleamed too. The inside was impossibly more pink than the face of the shop: it made Sam's head hurt.

A heavy waft of the botanicals rushed over his face and up his nostrils.

There was a hum of a heater in the far corner. Your laugh cut through the sound.

In between the glitter and mosaic of the petals, your frame melded between the colours.

You stood behind the counter, head tossed back between your shoulders with your hair up out of your face. He couldn't help notice then, with hair no longer obstructing the view, that your ears held a pointed edge. Not too noticeable, but enough that Sam squinted in surprise.

More than your ears, Sam had noticed the figure beside you. Lanky, young - closer to your own age than himself - with dreads tied back in a bun over his head.

Clearly he'd just said something hilarious, because he was laughing beside you.

"I told you he'd do that!" Your melodic voice bounced around the room.

"I couldn't resist." The man responded, elbow leaned over the counter and far too close to your shining face for Sam's liking.

An uncomfortable itch was forming in the base of his stomach. A green-eyed monster shaped itch.

Dean marched on ahead, interrupting your conversation.

"Hey Tink." He started.

Your eyes found the brothers, straightening up as you noticed. "Hey guys!"

Sam's feet were moving towards you before they'd even been instructed.

"What brings you in?" You pressed down over your apron, some soil stains leaked over it. Underneath you were wearing another frilly skirt, longer this time: all the way to your calves beyond the counter, and another crochet top. Earthy brown. "Can I interest you in some tulips, they arrived this morning?"

The man was watching Sam, he was watching back.

You noticed the exchange.

"Oh, this is Tony." You motioned up to his figure. "We work together ... obviously."

Sam nodded briefly, Dean did the same.

"Not here for the tulips, princess. Can we have a word?"

You fiddled with the ring around your middle finger. "Sure ... uh, Tony would you give us a sec?"

But Tony seemed unconvinced, purveying Sam and Dean with hooded eyes. "You sure, love?"

Love.

"Yeah, she's sure." The words fell off Sam's tongue before he had time to catch them.

Tony all but glared at him.

Your hand found his arm, Sam watched it unfold with the eyes of a trained dog. "Yeah, yeah. They're friends."

The boy nodded slowly, sending a wavering glance over Sam and Dean. "Sure. I'll be in the office if ya need."

He disappeared beyond a door into the back of the shop.

"We found some symbols in the forest," Dean started as soon as Tony was out of earshot. "Haven't been able to find much on it, thought you might know something."

You nodded, "Sure."

Sam slipped his phone out his khaki jacket, his outfit unusually casual when it came to his meetings with you.

He set the phone down gently in front of you.

You pulled it closer, raking over the pixelated image that only barely captured the shape of the wounds in the tree in the darkness of the night.

The breath you sucked in was loud.

"Look familiar?" Dean pressed.

With another shuddering breath you nodded again. "Goblins."

Sam and Dean exchanged a look. A quiet I told you so.

"There should be four ..." you continued, zooming in on the photo.

"Four?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, four trees like this ... at least there should be. I haven't seen anything like this in real life, it's just stuff I learnt from knowledge passed down." The heater whined into the space between your words. "They each face a certain direction. If you find the point in the exact centre of the four trees, you've found the entrance. It should be like an underground cave from what I know."

Dean clapped his hands together in small victory, turning to Sam. "Great, we can head there now. Be done before sun down."

But you cut him off before Sam could, "Uhm, not exactly. These markings are only visible under moonlight, as is the entrance to their caves. You're gonna have to go looking after dark if you want to find anything."

Dean deflated. "Awesome."

"You think that goblins took those kids?" You asked finally, concern tightening at your brow.

"Well, if it's not you, that's our next best guess."

You rapped your nails against the counter in thought. Sam made out a tiny scratch against the side of your finger, one you'd made probably handling thorny roses. The same mark he'd noticed against his own finger while brushing his teeth that morning.

"If you decide otherwise, be sure to give me a heads up." Your face morphed into a grin, playing along with Dean's narrative.

Sam took his phone back where you held it out to him. "Well, uh, thanks."

"Please," you shook your head. "It's the least I could do after your little drop off yesterday morning. I never got to thank you for that."

Smiling slightly now, Sam shook you off.

"I didn't want you to have to go back there with those assholes."

"Well," you leaned closer over the counter, blinking up at him with eyes that could burn through steel, "Thank you. I appreciated it. Lydia too, poor thing's been hiding under the couch since."

The memory of the three-foot snake seemed to reappear to Dean. He shivered.

"I'll, uh, meet you out by the car." He muttered under his breath, "Thanks again, Tink."

You waved at him as he passed. "Of course."

The door jingled behind him.

"So," Sam's hands sunk into his pant pockets. He flicked his head up to where your co-worker had disappeared behind the door. "Tony, huh?"

Laughing you shook your head. "Uh, no. He's really sweet though. Maybe one of these days I'll give it a shot, but not now."

Sam's fists tightened, your reply bugged him.

"No time like the present." He didn't know why he was still talking, why he was mentioning it at all.

He had every right to open his mouth and tell you the truth, get your mind off Tony and any man or woman who ever came near you again.

"No, no." You chuckled softly, but it trailed off. "Kind of got this crush that I need to sort out first."

Sam sucked in a sharp breath. His feet twitched, shifting his weight.

"A crush?"

You nodded. "Yeah it's super pathetic, but he's leaving town soon. So I'll get over it. Hopefully."

A warm spongy feeling was replacing the scathing jealousy in Sam's chest.

"He's an idiot, I'm sure, if you think it's pathetic." He played along, hoping to any God listening that he wasn't reading you wrong.

"Not at all." You shook your head, eyes never leaving his. "He's actually very sweet. S'been swooping in to save me more times than I can count over the last week. Ridiculously handsome too which doesn't help the fact."

Sam was sure you could see the birds flying over his head and where he was sure his pupils had turned to hearts.

Sizzling embers warmed his insides at the sight of you, the prettiest thing between the flowers. Of how you blended so perfectly into the beauty of the world, so soft and beyond lovely and some divine power decided that he deserved it.

That you were crafted for him, as he was for you.

He felt a lick of shame in that, how you drew the short string with the mess of the man across from you.

It pushed him to respond. He forwent indulging more of your teasing.

"Can I come say goodbye tonight?" His voice was soft. "Once I'm done? I do still owe you breakfast."

A teasing grin plucked at your face again. "What makes you think I'll let you stick around 'till breakfast?"

He sighed, blushing at the insinuation. "Well, unless you'd rather have your crush come by? So I can see who's causing you all this trouble."

You shook your head. "I'll see you later then, hunter."

"You can count on it, fairy."

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