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hxney-lemcn · 2 years

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A Night To Remember — Michael Afton x gn! reader

Summery: Reader helps Michael get used to working day shift, unfortunately they end up having to take a night shift.

tw: sexual insinuation (brief)

a/n: This is before Michael is scooped cus otherwise that would be...really weird.

wc: 1.7k

Master List

Part 1 | Part 2

I felt a headache start to form once I entered the notorious Freddy Fazbear Pizzeria. Why is a 20 year old at a place like that? Simple. I work there. There are many things I could say about it, all bad, but I’m not going to bore you with the obvious that you all already know about. What I am going to talk about though, is the only good thing at this god forsaken place.

What could that possibly be? Well that’s simple. The cute night security guard that I have to train. See what the situation is, I’m the morning shift guard, and I’ve only seen this Michael fellow on his or my way out. So when he got bumped to morning shift cause they hired a new night guard, I was kind of excited. Though that meant less hours for me (less money), I didn’t mind too badly though.

Anyways, I unlocked the door and walked in, the new night guard walking out like they were terrified of something. Weird. Anyways, I turned on all the lights and made sure the animatronics were in their place and not damaged. Noticing that everything was okay, I turned around just in time to watch Michael enter. He looked extremely nervous, fidgeting with his sleeves while keeping his head down.

Not wanting to startle him (and also being an awkward person) I called out to him sort of quietly, “Hey, you’re Michael right?” I didn’t want to seem creepy, but they told me beforehand that I would be training him today.

Nodding as a reply, I smiled in awkwardness “alright then.” I continued with telling him what to check before opening. Then other coworkers started to trickle in and I led Michael to the office he was already familiar with.

“Well I’m sure you already know this routine,” I chuckled awkwardly. Michael hasn’t spoken a word yet and I don’t want to talk his ears off. Yet when I said this, he looked up at me with the most fearful eyes I’ve ever seen. I felt my heart clench at the genuine fear and I became extremely confused, so I continued hoping it would soothe his fears, “W-well I guess the children might add a bit of a hassle but it’s not that hard. Just watch the camera’s for anything that may be off, criminals, unruly kids, ect.”

This seemed to calm him down as he nodded once again. I rubbed my arm nervously, not sure what else to say.

“Well you can take the office chair, I’ll go try to find another one real quick,” I said scurrying off without waiting for a response. This whole thing is so awkward. I was so excited meeting someone new, someone who was cute at that, that I forgot I’m an anxious, awkward, mess. Looking around I grabbed a nearly broken chair that’s normally up front and went back into the office.

When I came back in, Michael looked up at me with wide eyes, before calming down. Jeeze, I wonder what made him so skittish? Throwing another nervous smile his way I spoke up once again, “Sorry it took so long, I ended up having to steal a chair from the front.”

“It’s alright,” Michael whispered, the first I heard him speak. My eyes widened, he had a slight British accent, not too strong though.

“How’s it been?” I asked, scooting my chair closer so we could both see the tablet.

Shrugging, he replied, “Nothing much.”

Looking at the tablet I was the waiters taking and handing out orders, kids screaming and playing around, and tired parents.

“Yeah, this is normally how it is,” I sighed out, leaning back on my chair. I rested my elbow on Michael’s armrest and held my head in my hand. I continued to stare mindlessly into the tablet as Michael would flip the screens. I couldn’t help but notice how tense he seemed at the moment and I felt like somehow it was my fault. So I leaned away from him and muttered out a small ‘sorry’. He glanced over at me, looking almost quizzically, so I continued, “I didn’t mean to invade your space.”

Having a small debate with himself, he seemed to give in and say, “It’s not you.” Now I was the confused one and tilted my head to the side. “I…its…n-nevermind. Just bad memories in this office,” Michael said nervously.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I empathized (i stg if I get comments saying “Y/n’s such an empath, she noticed he was uncomfortable 🥺” I’m never writing again). I didn’t know what I could say to help him feel better, if that was even possible.

“You don’t have to apologize,” He muttered. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I know,” I whispered back. “But whatever you went through to make you so uncomfortable here, well you shouldn’t have gone through that.”

I looked down at the tablet once more, a semi awkward silence falling over us. Only the sounds of chattering of families and friends could be heard in the background. But I noticed two teens who were making out, entering one of the bathrooms. I felt my heart drop knowing we’re supposed to stop that. I closed my eyes, the feeling of dread and anxiety skyrocket so high that I wanted to cry.

“Just great,” I muttered. “Well, we should stop them before any kids have to see something they shouldn’t.”

With that, we made our way towards the bathrooms, Michael following close behind me. Looking into the bathroom I tried to mentally hype myself up but it wasn’t working. Turning around I looked at my trainee.

“Since it’s your first morning shift, I’ll take care of this first,” I explained. “There’s no set way to stop this kinda thing, it happens more than you’d like it to. Well…wish me luck.”

“Good luck,” Michael called out as I entered the bathroom.

Entering, I could hear the sounds of whisperings and specifically ‘be quiet’. Great. Letting out a sigh I decided to just rip the bandaid off.

“You kids can’t be doing this kind of thing here,” I called out. “If you're gonna do it, don’t do it at Freddy Fazbear’s please. There’s a lot of kids here and if they were to be exposed to that it could be jail time. And don’t make me actually stop you guys, that would be really weird on both sides.”

The sounds of clothes shuffling and the stall opening made me cross my arms and look down. I’d rather not make any eye contact.

“Thanks for cooperating,” I nodded. “Makes it easier for everyone.”

“Sorry,” One said while the other just rolled their eyes and scoffed.

Besides that awkward problem, the rest of the shift was uneventful. I didn’t see Michael much after that, only when we’d switch shifts (he has morning and I have evening or vice versa). The only difference is that we’d make small conversation in between before one of us left.

What I’ve learned about Michael is that he’s a really anxious guy, but he’s really sweet. I learned that he likes the show “The Immortal and the Restless”, and his favorite snack is popcorn.

Ok so what if I’m trying to learn more about him? Can you really blame me for being attracted to him? He just seems to be exactly my type. I didn’t think it would get anywhere, but let me indulge myself a bit. His laugh made my heart flutter and my face felt warm after he smiled so genuinely at me. Something he didn’t do often.

I was having a good day, I switched shifts with Michael. He laughed at my bad joke, and I was happy. That’s when I noticed my next shift was a night shift. I felt my mood plummet when I realized I’m going to have to work twice in the same day. So I decided to take a long nap and eat before I had to work again. I already felt drained but there’s not much I can do.

When I went back to Freddy’s Pizzeria, Michael was shocked to see me again to say the least. He actually looked severely concerned.

“What are you doing here? I thought your shift was over?” He asked.

“Yeah I thought so too,” I groaned. “They’re making me work the night shift since the other guy called out.”

“Y-you can’t,” Michael sputtered out. He looked downright panicked.

“What else can I do,” I shrugged. “Hey I don’t like it either, but I need my job.”

“...I…I’ll do it,” He replied, it seemed to be the last thing he’d want to do but he’d do it for me? Not like I was going to let him.

“No,” I shook my head. “You’re just getting off your shift. Don’t worry, how bad can the night shift be?” I asked rhetorically. But that question seemed to make him paler than I thought a person could be. It made me kinda nervous as well.

In the end, I nearly had to force him home, threatening to drive him home myself (which he seemed to seriously consider). Yet I had won, my stubbornness beating him. Little did I know the horrors that awaited me that night.

Now I didn’t know the animatronics were out to kill me and I was basically living a horror game currently. I almost ran out of power, which, don’t get me started on why I shouldn’t have to conserve power. Anyways, Bonnie was ruthless and kept trying to kill me. Chica was always in the kitchen, and Freddy was just staring creepily into the camera from the stage.

When my shift ended, I nearly ran out as Michael was unlocking the door. He stared at me with wide eyes as I closed the door behind me.

Laughing nervously, I turned around and faced the cute man staring at me with great concern. “So I understand your nervousness in the restaurant now,” I said with an awkward yet terrified smile.

“It would get worse every night,” He replied, and I felt my eyes widen. Worse? Does he mean they would get more active every night? How hasn’t this place shut down yet?

“Jesus,” I sighed out. “I can’t believe you haven’t quit yet.”

“I’ve been through worse,” He whispered, looking away.

“Well if you ever need to talk, or just have someone by your side, just give me a call,” I replied. “Here’s my number.”

I grew to know more about Michael today. And I only want that to continue. But for now, I’m glad he has seemed to warm up to me. I hope we can become greater friends, and hopefully something more later on.

#fnaf #fnaf micheal #fnaf mike schmidt #michael #michael afton #xreader #x reader #michael afton x reader #imagine #one shot #oneshot #michael afton imagine #sister location #fnaf sister location #fnaf 3 #five nights at freddy's #fnaf 6 #fnaf pizza simulator

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navybrat817 · 3 years

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Just a Kiss

Pairing: Dark!Jake Jensen x Reader Summary: Jake Jensen just wants a kiss. Word Count: Over 1.1k Warnings: Stalking, obsession, creepy Jake Jensen, forced kiss.

18+ Please!!! This is not beta-read, so any and all mistakes are my own

Dark Jake Jensen is my thing now?! Can be seen as a sort of prequel to Just Love Me. Enjoy, lovelies!

One of these days, you were going to quit your job. You would either win the lottery or you would find something you really loved that paid enough to take care of your bills. It was too early in the week to drink, but you didn’t care. It was an awful day and you earned it.

You looked over your shoulder as you walked through the aisles. The job itself wasn’t the only thing keeping you on edge. Your “secret” admirer decided to pay you a visit so he could personally deliver a few gifts. It would have been sweet under normal circumstances, but you told Jake Jensen more than once to leave you alone. It didn’t matter because he didn’t listen.

The other girls in the office thought it was sweet, missing the look of fear that crossed your face when you saw him waiting for you.

“He’s so handsome. How did you get so lucky?” one of your coworkers asked.

You smiled at him one day. That’s what you did. One smile was all it took and he fell head over heels. At least, that’s what he told you.

“I’m the lucky one,” Jake smiled, his hand brushing yours as he handed you the wrapped box.

You hadn’t bothered to open it, tossing it in the dumpster outside the first chance you had. Feeling alone at times was nothing new to you, but you felt like you couldn’t talk to anyone. Jake fought for his country and was playful and funny to everyone around him. And who were you?

Picking a random bottle, you made your way to the counter. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you set it down. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched. Had he made you that paranoid?

“Is that all for you?” the cashier asked after she checked your ID, ringing up the bottle.

“Yeah, thanks,” you replied, taking your ID back and getting your debit card out to pay. Inserting the card into the processor, you were surprised when it beeped a few moments later. It was declined.

“It didn’t go through. Wait until the light turns green,” she suggested.

You took the card out and waited for it to clear, trying it again. Blood rushed to your cheeks when it declined again, embarrassed. Was something wrong with your card? “I just got paid a few days ago,” you said under your breath, taking another card out.

“It’s fine,” the woman kindly said as you tried the next one. You felt your stomach dropped when that was rejected, too. That couldn’t be a coincidence. “I’m sorry. I can just put it back.”

“I’ll take care of it,” a voice chimed in behind you.

You felt your skin crawl when Jake moved beside you, refusing to look at him. Did the cashier not see how nervous you looked? Did she care?

“That’s very kind of you,” she smiled as Jake handed the cash over.

“Well, someone was kind to me once and you know what they say. Pay it forward,” he smiled back, his arm brushing against yours as he invaded your space. “Keep the change.”

“Thank you,” she smiled wider. “Would you like a-”

You snatched the bottle away before she could bag it, rushing toward the door. It was rude, but you couldn’t stay in there another second.

“Long day. Had plenty of those,” you heard Jake tease as you left.

A shiver ran down your spine as you went down the sidewalk. Home. You wanted to go home. You didn’t even make it halfway down the block before he caught up to you, gently grabbing your arm.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he smiled, pulling you to his side. “Problem with your debit card? Anything I can help with?

“Get away from me,” you whispered. Why didn’t you scream? What would he do if you drew attention to them?

“Now, now, now. That’s not very nice. I just bought you that bottle,” he said with a small pout. “You know, It’s a good thing you went shopping yesterday. Even treated yourself with those brownies you love. I’d hate for you to go hungry. Though you may need to check your bills. Overdraft fees are pain.”

You felt numb as he pulled you along. He knew...He knew everything. “You...what did you do?”

“You threw my gift out. I worked hard to get something nice for you,” he said bitterly as he turned in the direction of your apartment. “Since you had no regard for that, I moved some of your hard-earned money around.”

“You can’t do that,” you gritted as he suddenly stopped, trying not to freak out. That was your money. You had your rent to pay and more. Who the hell did he think he was?

“I can do anything I want,” he said calmly, so calmly it terrified you. “And you owe me a ‘thank you’ for that drink.”

“I don’t owe you a thing!” you snapped. He wasn’t entitled to anything from you.

“I think you owe me a kiss.”

“A kiss?!”

“Give me a kiss and I’ll start putting your money back where it belongs,” he promised, making you flinch as he touched your cheek.

“No,” you said quietly.

He backed you against the closest building wall, feeling the solid muscle through his clothes as he pressed against you. “Just a kiss,” he whispered, your lower lip trembling as he brushed his nose against yours. “Just one. I promise.”

You didn’t get a chance to protest before his lips were on yours. It was soft, almost delicate. You thought that was the end of it until he pressed his knee between your legs. Your mouth parted in shock, his tongue slipping inside. The kiss became ravenous as he gripped the back of your neck, holding you in place. It hit you in your gut that his restraint was slowly slipping away. When would it snap completely?

You felt like you couldn’t breathe as he kept kissing you, his knee rocking against your warmth. “I don’t know how much longer I can wait,” he rasped when he finally broke the kiss.

“Jake, please,” you gasped. He had to stop.

“You’re really not going to thank me?”

“No,” you murmured. You had nothing to thank him for.

Jake pursed his lips in anger. “Don’t throw my gifts out again,” he warned, glancing down at your body as he stilled his knee. “Fuck. Do you know how pretty you’re going to look on my cock?”

You blanched as the bottle fell from your hand, shattering. He looked at the puddle of liquor and glass as he laughed. “Aww, don’t worry about that. I’ll stop by tomorrow with something better. That’s what good boyfriends are for, right?”

“You are not my boyfriend,” you said slowly, as if that would somehow make it sink in. “I won’t be your boyfriend for long,” he grinned like a madman. “I’m going to be your husband one day. And when that day comes...you’ll never have to work another day in your life.”

#dark!jake jensen x reader #dark!jake jensen x you #dark!jake jensen x y/n #dark!jake jensen #jake jensen imagine #jake jensen x you #jake jensen x reader #obsession #stalking #creepy behavior #navybrat writes

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ptergwen · 3 years

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web of lies

take a leap. if you start to fall, the net will appear to catch you.

photographer!peter x journalist!reader || masterlist

w/c: 7.1k

warnings: swearing, one drinking mention, descriptions of anxiety, and angst if ya squint

summary: peter can’t stop holding your hands, betty and ned are the modern day bonnie and clyde, ned is a terrible guy in the chair, the osborn’s are up to something, and mj hates you all

a/n: y’all i’m super excited about this series like i haven’t had an idea i’ve really loved in months? so it’s good to be back !!! there are tons of things i have planned and i can’t wait to share them with all of you hehe i really hope you enjoy part one <3 happy reading

to be honest, which is what you do best, you’ve had a thing for peter parker your whole time at the daily bugle. you actually almost told him once.

a couple months ago, peter walked you home on a night you worked overtime. he’d came in last minute to leave some pictures on your boss’s desk. no one else but you was there, hunched at your computer in the dim office lighting. peter was pleasantly surprised to see you, yet concerned for your well-being. you had to put your finishing touches on a story.

he didn’t feel comfortable letting you travel alone at that hour. so, he went with you when you were ready. his company was more than welcomed. you told peter about your article while you two sat on the subway. he’d listened intently, your head resting on his shoulder and his arm around you. he made sure you got to your apartment building alright as well.

“hey, peter?” you’d asked, halfway up the steps. he was waiting until you were inside and safe to leave. “hm? you good?” he’d smiled sort of expectantly. “yeah. i... i wanted to say...”

your words got caught in your throat when he gave you the softest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen. you couldn’t do it. for some reason, you were too scared to confess how you felt. “thanks again for walking me home,” you’d settled on. he’d seemed disappointed that was what you wanted to tell him. nevertheless, he said not to worry about it before taking off.

that one moment perfectly captures it all; how yours and peter’s narrative plays itself out.

—

“we’ve got an update on hydra v. the people!”

“those freaky giraffes escaped the zoo... again.”

“shoot one more spitball and it’ll be your last.”

“does anyone have an aspirin?”

welcome to the daily bugle, where the chaos never ends and the calm never starts. you’ll find new york’s finest writers, publishers, and creatives of all kind right here. that would include you. you’re one of the top journalists in the whole building, according to mr. norman osborn. he’s the brilliant and slightly insane man who runs this place.

although it’s rare for someone in your field, you were hired straight out of college. norman read a few pieces you’d written and loved them so much that he offered you a job. full time, full benefits, no questions asked. there was something special about the way you wove your words together. your writing had its own voice. a strong voice, one the paper was severely lacking.

you’ve been with the bugle for just over a year now. it’s not the quiet, nine to five gig you were initially expecting it to be. you’re each very unique individuals in your office, and there’s never a dull moment because of it. your coworkers can be found hosting debates on the riskiest topics or tackling each other for blueberry muffins, and that’s just a regular tuesday. the place is stranger than strange. but, it’s become home.

thanks to mr. osborn being so accommodating, you actually settled in rather quickly. another big help has been the friends you’ve made. your first was michelle jones, who prefers to be called mj. she’s a fellow journalist with a wickedly dark humor that trickles into her writing. if you had to describe her in one word, it would be blunt. mj is as real as it gets, and also eternally loyal. she keeps her circle small, so you’re honored you get to be in it.

mj sits right next to you, which means you’re always talking through your days. that’s due in part to the way your office is set up. there aren’t any cubicles, tables and swirly chairs taking up their space instead. norman heard it was more progressive, probably from his son harry.

harry is about your age, only a couple of years older. he hangs around quite a lot, but doesn’t do much with his time besides that. according to norman, he’s still seeking out his passion. he’s banking on him finding a suitable career at the bugle. he’d like to pass this all on to harry some day, hopefully sooner than later. either way, you don’t mind having harry here. he’s super funny and friendly with everyone.

there’s also ned leeds, who’s an editor and reviews most of your pieces. he’s sweeter than candy, even when he’s ripping your grammar to shreds. on the rare occasions you’re not discussing breaking news, you two talk about movies. ned is a film buff and gives you the best recommendations. you’re convinced he was a critic in his past life.

last but so from least is peter parker. he only works for the bugle part time, since he’s still in school. you both graduated from your respective colleges the same year. peter wants to get his masters degree, though. he’s a photographer who’s aspiring to be a cinematographer. him and ned have their passion for the industry in common, and that’s what makes them such great friends.

you learned this and more from the times you and peter have partnered up on stories. he’s one of your best friends not only at the bugle, but in your entire life. the many long nights you’ve spent collaborating have brought you close to each other. they consist of drinking and deep talks, along with some actual work. he takes the pictures, you do the writing. you’ve been told you make a lovely pair.

peter says it himself, too. you’d like to believe he means it as more than coworkers. he’s so caring, and smart, and pure, and peter. yeah, you like him an awful lot. you can hardly stand the feeling of it sometimes.

the fact that you you haven’t come clean already is ridiculous.

“goddamn. not again,” you mutter out. “em, you better come look at this. it’s bad.” mj wheels over to you in her chair with a puzzled look. her eyes follow yours, landing on your computer. “leeds just sent this? to everyone?” she questions, your reply a short hum. you’re both staring daggers at the email your screen displays.

ned is responsible for assigning each journalist their own topics to cover. he’s been lacking a bit recently, having you write up think pieces on fluffy things. in other words, stuff that no one cares about. he asked you to compare oat milk and almond milk just last week. you’d hoped this week would be better, but here you are.

“this is ass. who does he think we are, buzzfeed?” mj scoffs at her own words. the daily bugle prides itself on being a reliable news source, on paper and tv. you’re starting to stoop down to the low level of your competitors. “he assigned me some tiktok dance trend. i’m not writing a single word about that app.” she sets her elbows down on the table, head in her hands.

“aw, why not? grandma mj isn’t down with the kids?” you tease and click out of the upsetting email. “i don’t write for kids,” mj deadpans. she pushes her glasses up on her nose. “what’d you get?” “the evolution of memes,” you gloomily reply. you’re surprised norman has been approving these topics. then again, ned is the head editor. he can do whatever he wants regardless of approval.

mj glares over at the kitchen, where betty brant currently resides. she’s making two hot chocolates instead of her usual one. “i blame her,” mj mumbles to you. your eyebrows furrow. “dude, what? betty is an angel. she doesn’t even work in editing.” betty is the bugle’s highest rated anchorwoman. her and her news team are on people’s televisions every night.

“no, but she has been spending a generous amount of time with leeds,” mj grumbles. she’s admittedly very nosy. the upside is that she tells you any juicy office drama there is. “my theory is betty’s making him give us crap stories so she can report the good ones.” she glances over at you to see what you think. “no way. that can’t be allowed... or legal,” you laugh back.

as if on cue, ned appears next to betty in the kitchen. he takes the extra hot coco that’s piled high with whipped cream. betty tucks a sheet of paper into his suit pocket and kisses his cheek, then he’s gone. you can only gasp as you watch this unfold. what has she done to poor, clueless ned?

“not such an angel anymore, huh?” mj smirks in satisfaction. “suddenly, she has red horns and a pitchfork,” you bitterly agree with your tongue in your cheek. betty waves to you two on her way back to broadcasting. mj gives her a fake nice finger wave, you ignoring her. “we can’t sit back and let this happen, em. we have to do something,” you decide. “let’s tell norman.”

uninterested, mj takes off her glasses and starts to clean them. “like he’ll believe us. yeah, golden girl betty brant is sabotaging the writer’s room,” she rewords her previous statement to put its stupidity in perspective. you throw your hands up. “she is, though! we literally watched it happen!” mj puts her freshly wiped glasses back on and sighs.

“i doubt norman would care, y/n. every newspaper to ever exist is corrupt somehow.” your pessimistic old pal has a point. however, you’re not so willing to accept it. “why can’t we be the first one that isn’t?” you offer a small smile. mj snickers, wheeling back to her own computer. “those are words of the innocent.” she’s already tapping her fingers across the keyboard.

“i thought you weren’t doing the tiktok piece,” you say under your breath. you’re slightly pissed mj turned you down, since she’s the reason you know about betty’s meddling. “i’m not,” mj answers sharply. “i’m gonna email quentin and ask if we can change our topics. happy?” quentin beck is another editor in the building. he’s not bad, but he is intimidating. no one typically goes to him as their first option.

“i’m thrilled,” you confirm and grin at mj to emphasize it. “thanks for stepping up. you’re forgiven.” “i didn’t realize i had to be sorry,” mj notes, this time in a playful manor. she shakes her head as she begins writing. “you and your morals.”

what you value most in your career is honesty, under any circumstances. of course, the other daily bugle writers are the same. norman strictly prohibits clickbait and crazy headlines because that isn’t real news. you leave that to companies like buzzfeed. you’re honest in the sense that you say whatever has to be said, what everyone else is too afraid to. you’ll speak your truth no matter who tries to stop you.

it didn’t used to be that way. there’s some childhood trauma that remains deep in the back of your mind. you’ve left that behind you now, having over a decade to cope with it. hey, they say the past is in the past. what’s important is your takeaway, that you would never let yourself or anyone else be silenced from there on out. never again.

quentin ends up giving you the okay to write different stories. he lets you and mj choose choose your own because he’s got “better things to do” and you’re “big girls.” what a peach he is. mj goes with how capitalism is continuing to provoke global warming. she has something to say about every major world issue, and you admire the hell out of her for it.

you’re a bit stuck when it’s time to write your article. it’s terribly ironic because you pushed for this. you aren’t too worried, though. the city is crawling with material, so you’ll find what you’re looking for eventually. lucky for you, some much needed inspiration comes skipping out of the elevator.

“morning, peter,” you hear liz greet him at the front desk. she’s your floor’s receptionist. her wisdom and patience keep this place going. “hi, liz. how’s it going?” he asks. “things have been quiet... mostly. can i do anything for you?” liz peers up at him. peter sports a shy smile. “uh, yeah. mr. osborn wanted to see me?” “right. hang on.” she nods, dialing his office phone number.

it’s endearing how peter calls him mr. osborn, seeing as the rest of you go with norman. he’s probably the politest guy you’ve ever met.

grinning, liz puts down the phone. “you can go in whenever you’re ready. good luck!” peter laughs nervously and turns to leave. “thanks, you too.” his face falls when he realizes his mistake. “wait, i- i didn’t mean to say that. that was stupid. you’re not-“ “it’s fine, peter,” liz reassures him. his anxiety makes him trip over his words sometimes. that, and he’s a bit dorky in general. you find it rather adorable.

you also wonder what exactly he needs good luck for. he’s not even supposed to be working today, so your curiosity as to what’s going on has been piqued.

“um, i’m gonna go now. bye!” peter rushes off, his face tinted pink from the embarrassing encounter. you’re hoping he’ll stop and talk with you for a little while, but he heads straight to norman’s office. your whole body deflates at that. mj notices from her peripherals.

“what’s the matter? missing your hubby?” she coos, her words dripping in sarcasm. “no,” you lie. “i’m... i don’t know what to write about.” ok, there’s some truth. mj gives you a couple pats on the shoulder. “ask parker for help. you two work... well together. don’t you?” this must be the zillionth time you’ve heard that.

“we do,” you murmur and glance at norman’s closed door. peter is hidden behind it. “i just don’t wanna bug him. he has finals soon, and whatever norman is putting him up to. it’s my job, anyway.” mj pokes your arm. “those sound like excuses to me,” she concludes, still jabbing at you childishly. “you really just don’t wanna tell him you like-“

“can you keep it down?” you hiss, yanking your arm back. “he’s literally right over there.” peter stands up and shakes norman’s hand. you catch it through the blinds on his window. “y/n, you were drooling over his mere presence only minutes ago,” mj prefaces, a smile pulling at her lips. “you can handle three little words. i like you, that’s it. spit it out already.”

you’ll never admit this to mj, but she’s right. you lost your momentum after your first failed attempt to say the three little words. you’re still not sure what stopped you. you’d shared the details of that faithful night with her, and she’s been pushing you to try again since.

the door to norman’s office opens, and out walks peter. he’s beaming after their conversation, which seems like a good sign. harry passes peter on his way in to pay his dad a visit. he claps him on the shoulder, peter happily accepting before continuing his stride back into the main office. it takes a moment to register that he’s coming towards you.

you quickly set your focus back on your computer so he doesn’t think you’ve been watching him. even though, you definitely have.

“y/n!” peter calls your name. he’s on the opposite side of your table, in front of you. “peter!” you match his tone. “i was just dropping by. i thought i’d say hey while i’m here.” he’s still grinning. “what’re you doing?” he looks cute as ever in an oversized and cream colored sweater. his curls are slicked back with a tad too much product, cheeks rosy. you gaze up at him when he rests his arms on the table.

“pretending to be productive,” mj answers for you, pressing her lips together. peter cocks his head to the side. “pretending?” “ignore her. she’s being a shit stirrer today,” you explain. “like every other day,” he jokes, earning a laugh from you. mj just tuts and keeps writing. “talk about me like i’m not here,” she mumbles to herself, then gets back into her article.

“anyways, i thought you didn’t work today?” you ask to take the attention off yourself. also, because you’re curious. “oh! get this.” peter perks up even more, if that’s possible. he has energy like no other. “you know alex in broadcasting? betty’s camera guy?” “what about him?” you wonder. “he called in sick earlier this morning, with the flu or something.” he’s oddly excited to announce this. that prompts you to make a funny face.

biting back another smile, peter elaborates. “mr. osborn needed someone to fill in for him, so he picked me. i’ll be here all week.” it makes sense, since peter knows how to work a camera and does so wonderfully. you give him a celebratory push at his chest. “peter, that’s amazing! this is the perfect way to transition from pictures to film, right?” he’s nearing his finals at school, which consist of more movie-like projects. the news will be great practice.

then, he’s off to hollywood. you’ll put that out of your mind for now.

“exactly! i think it’ll be a good place to start. the pay isn’t bad either.” peter wiggles his eyebrows at you, you giggling once again. you do a lot of that when he’s around. that’s going to be more often now. “plus, i get to see you. everyone wins.” he squeezes your hand that was just on him. your heart begins to thump. “except alex,” you challenge, playing with his fingers. “but, for real. i’m happy you get to do this and that we’ll be spending more time together.”

“thanks, y/n/n. me too.” peter grins and leans over, taking a peek at your computer screen. there’s a blank word document on it. “you never told me what you’re up to,” he chuckles. “guess mj was right... nothing.” “i’m always right,” she chimes in from next to you. you look between the two of them with a scowl. “i haven’t found my story yet. i don’t know, this never happens.” peter nods as you share your dilemma. “no good ideas are coming to me,” you murmur.

“they will. you have a way of attracting things.” he licks his lower lip, your heart completely stopping this time. “well, i gotta go set up for rise and shine with betty brant.” he waves his hand like he’s presenting his words. that’s what betty calls her morning news segment. “be careful with her. she’s being really sketchy these days,” you warn peter, mj grunting in agreement.

confused, peter purses his lips. “really? ned says she’s a sweetheart. they’ve been going out for a while.” mj pops her head up and adjusts her glasses. “did ned also tell you she’s bribing him to give her all of our scoops?” she’s asking rhetorically because she already knows the answer. of course he didn’t. “it’s one thing to not like her. you’re just making things up now,” peter huffs.

mj kicks your foot under the table. “i told you no one would believe us. not even peter gullible parker.” “it’s benjamin,” he corrects her. “whatever,” she brushes it off, resuming her work.

peter does tend to be sort of naive, to only see the good in things when there’s plenty of bad. you’re the same in that way, unless you hang around mj for too long.

“is that true? betty’s stealing your stories?” peter turns to you and asks. you gesture to your screen. “i don’t have one, so you do the math.” he hums sympathetically. he’ll listen to you, never mj. “i’m sorry. thanks for telling me, y/n. i’ll watch out for her.” he bends his fingers to look like goggles, putting them around his eyes. you sigh lightheartedly.

“are you twenty two years old or twelve?” mj remarks, but not without a comeback from peter. “you’re, like, eighty five. worry about that.” they’ve had this type of banter for as long as you’ve known them. it’s equal parts amusing and exhausting. “don’t be late on your first day.” you snap peter out of it with a knowing smile. he returns it.

“i hope something crazy happens so you can write about it.” he’s walking backwards now, towards the elevator. “see you later, pete,” is all you say back, yet another laugh threatening to escape you. “see you. bye, michelle,” peter says just to bug her. “it’s mj,” she groans without looking up. he shrugs. “not so fun, is it?”

after peter is gone, you try to get back into work. or rather, you try to start your work. what he said about you having a way of attracting things keeps ringing in your head. was he flirting? no, he couldn’t have been. peter parker doesn’t flirt. words aren’t his strong suit, and you have countless memories that prove this to be true. earlier with liz, for example.

you’re probably reading way into this. peter was simply doing what any good friend would do and gave you advice.

it’s late in the afternoon when anything worth mentioning happens again. peter is still with betty, as far as you know. they’re probably preparing for the nighttime news now. all you’ve done since seeing him is nibble on snacks and bug mj, who’s almost done with her story despite your distractions. this is really bad, considering your deadline to submit is at the end of today.

you’ve never missed a deadline.

mj emails her work to quentin while you repeatedly bang your head on the table. she hits send before deciding to entertain you. “whatcha doing over there?” she cautiously prompts, powering off her computer. “trying to get an idea. i’m desperate, if you couldn’t tell.” your voice is muffled. “i could.” mj grabs your shoulders and pulls you back so you’re sitting up. you childishly pout.

“y/n, the only thing that’s gonna give you is brain damage,” mj says sternly, then softens her tone. “why don’t you ask for an extension? norman gives me them all the time.” whining, you slump down in your chair again. “yeah, but you’re you! we do things differently, have different expectations put on us.” she’s back to cold mj after you say that. “alright. at least i did something today besides pine over that little-“

mj’s insult for peter is interrupted by harry. “ladies, what’s shaking?” he comes up to you two with a the hint of smirk on his face. you manage a nod to acknowledge him. “oh, hey... harry,” mj unenthusiastically replies. she’s the one person who isn’t really a fan of him. “not much. y/n was just having a tantrum.” “she was not,” you dismiss her. “it’s work stuff. you know your dad.”

harry clicks his tongue in a teasing way. “yep, the grind never stops in this joint. boss man is...” he does the sign for cuckoo with his finger. you laugh a little at that. “in a good way,” you add on. mj only watches you two, blinking blankly. harry gives you a definitive pat on the back. “before i forget, he wants to see you.” that gets mj talking. “norman?” she questions. “your dad?” you choke out at the same time.

“who else? he said you two have to talk.” harry flashes you a weary smile. “have fun in there, old sport.” you’re too busy biting the skin off your bottom lip to respond. “mhm... she will,” mj speaks on your behalf. even she sounds worried. saluting you both, harry leaves to go pester your other colleagues. you’re completely and totally fucked.

“that’s it for me!” you grin sarcastically, freaked out by harry. “i’m fired, aren’t i? i’m definitely about to get fired, and it’s all because-“ “relax!” mj cuts off your rambling. she reaches down and grasps at your wrists. “get it together, y/l/n. you’re the best we have, okay? you aren’t going anywhere.” your grin becomes a frown. “then why does norman wanna talk to me? and, why don’t i have a story?”

mj always has the answers, but this time is the execption. she lets out a breath. “i don’t know. you’ll go find out and tell me what happens.” there’s no use protesting. you’re going to have to face whatever you’re about to at some point. “ok,” you give in, defeated. “i’ll be back soon, i hope.”

the walk to norman’s office feels like a walk of shame. mj can do nothing but sit back and observe it. if this ends the way you think it will, you’ll be collecting your things and won’t ever return. norman is a kind man, and he’s usually pretty understanding. he doesn’t mind the workplace shenanigans as long as you get your job done. unfortunately, you haven’t today.

you hear your boss’s booming voice when you approach his door. inhaling deep, you knock on it, and the room goes silent. “come in,” norman responds after a few seconds. mustering up a smile, you open the door to be met with your doom. “hi, am i interrupting something?” you check. “not at all! you’re just the person i wanted to see. sit, sit,” he beckons you over. he’s not using his angry voice, so maybe you’re in the clear. you enter the room as told.

you’re shocked to see a terrified peter is already in one of the chairs. he visibly relaxes a bit now that you’re here. what the hell is happening? whatever you were expecting, this was the last thing.

taking the armchair next to peter, you sit facing norman’s desk. you nudge his arm to get his attention. his big brown eyes lock with yours. “what’s going on?” you whisper. “no idea,” peter whispers back. the two of you turn to norman again when he claps his hands. he’s plopped down into his cushy leather seat.

“so,” he begins, gaze flicking from peter to you. “you kids know why you’re here?” “is it because i missed my deadline?” you blurt out. you’re once again a nervous wreck. peter doesn’t speak, just winces. “not that. although, i did hear from ned that you turned down his assignment.” norman flicks at a post-it on his desk. “i asked quentin for one instead. me and mj,” you explain, peter’s eyes going wide.

“you talked to quentin? that guy’s bad news,” he murmurs to you. “how so?” norman questions, since it’s his employee. “he- he, um,” peter clears his throat before answering, “he’s super critical, you know? hates all my pictures.” “i love your pictures,” you assure him, the corners of his lips turning up. “your style is so cool. yeah, though. quentin’s pretty bitter.”

considering this, norman drums his fingers on the desk. “i’ll look into that. but, that isn’t why you’re here. i’m letting you off the hook this time.” your whole demeanor changes and a huge weight lifts off of you. “really? you are?” “i have a scoop of my own that i want you to cover,” he continues, peter bumping your knee happily. a toothy grin takes over your face.

“since peter will be sticking around for a while, i want him to join you.” norman waits a beat in case you have any questions. it’s been a minute since you last worked together. peter laughs in disbelief. “you want me to take over for alex and do this?” norman nods proudly. “y/n will need the extra hands, if you have them.” “yes, sir. i do,” peter immediately confirms. “my last class is next thursday, so i have the time.”

“wait, so you’re almost done? that’s awesome!” you bump peter’s knee this time. “yup, all that’s left is finals... and studying.” he mindlessly takes your hand, lacing your fingers together. you’re enjoying his gentle touches. “thank you so much, norman. seriously, i appreciate this a lot,” you tell him and mean it. “hey, no problem,” he chuckles at your eagerness. you grip peter’s hand tighter.

“what’s the story?” “ah, yes. the most important part,” norman starts, peter sharing an excited look with you. “how familiar are you two with spider-man?” his excitement fades at the question posed. it’s unbeknownst to you, caught up in the moment. “uh, same as everyone else, i guess,” you casually reply. “how come?” “he’s your subject.” norman points at you both. “you’re gonna study him over these next few months.”

peter’s hand goes limp in yours, and he gulps hard, throat feeling dry. “you mean, like, an exposé?” “no, no. there will be no exposing,” norman clarifies. “i’m sure he wears the mask for a reason.” that settles peter only slightly. you’re not sure why he’s so tense all of a sudden. “what’s our aim here, then?” you steer the conversation.

“see what new york’s favorite hero gets up to every day, how his life is beyond the crime fighting,” norman further describes your task. peter exhales a shaky breath, shifting away from you in his seat. the golden sun hits his face and reveals a bead of sweat dripping down it. you stare at his figure in worry. “you okay, peter?” “fine. i’m just... hot,” he murmurs back. his sweater does look pretty heavy, so you concede.

getting back to norman’s story, you grimace at the idea. “do you really think people will want to read that? for lack of a better term, it sounds kind of...” you pause. “basic.” “i thought the same thing at first,” he surprisingly agrees with you. “harry pitched the idea to me this morning. you won’t believe it! the other night, he caught spider-man hanging outside his window.”

“harry... harry saw him?” peter squeaks out. he uses the wool material that feels like it’s swallowing him to dab at his forehead. “he stopped on his balcony. must have been pretty late, the kid’s a night owl,” norman says about his son. your face lights up as you listen to him. “he took some shots of spidey in action, when he swung off. i saw a few. they were pretty great.” he’s grinning at his son’s success.

“maybe he’ll get into photography with you, pete,” norman suggests. peter gives him a weak smile in return. “we’d be happy to have him.” he usually has a lot more to say about his career than that. his behavior is starting to genuinely concern you. “anyway,” norman gets back on topic, “it got me thinking. how much do we really know about this guy? we’re supposed to blindly put our trust in him?”

you’re beginning to see the appeal now. you’ve written your share of pieces on the avengers and their methods, tackling the same questions norman just asked you. spider-man shouldn’t be overlooked, especially when he operates so close to your home. this could be another revolutionary superhero story in the making. and, you get to bring peter along for the ride.

“you know what? this has a lot of potential,” you smile at norman, then peter. he has his phone in his lap, fingers flying across the screen. it must be something important. you’ll discuss with norman while he takes care of that. “we could make it a weekly thing, about spider-man’s adventures. find out what we can about the man behind the mask...” peter shoots up in his seat. “without taking it off,” you finish, putting his mind at ease.

“see, i knew you were gonna love it! it was a blessing in disguise, you missing that deadline.” norman bangs his fist on the table with a hearty laugh. “what do you say, peter? you still in?” peter slips his phone back in his pocket. his tongue pokes out to wet his lips. “oh, of course. i can’t wait to work with you, y/n/n,” he speaks in a monotone voice, adding on, “again.”

something is definitely bothering him, and it isn’t the weather.

“i gotta go. betty needs me upstairs, so,” peter moves to get up, his body stiff. you assume that’s who he was texting. “thank you again, mr. osborn.” he’s rushing out of the room just like that, until you call after him. “um, don’t you wanna set a time to meet up? so we can get started?” you reasonably ask. “i... i really gotta go. find me later,” peter tells you, giving you both a tight lipped smile and running off.

“the dynamic duo is back!” norman announces to you. you’re disappointed you can’t share that sentiment with peter.

he’s absolutely booking it down the stairs, not bothering to wait for the next elevator. this is bad. this is a nightmare.

peter went from having one of his best days in a while to the worst in not even a full round of work. today started off fine, and got better when norman promoted him. it got way better when you came along. he saw your smile that makes his insides tingle, heard your laugh that’s the prettiest sound to grace his ears, held your hand that he never wants let go.

things went a bit downhill after that. betty was pushy and yelled at him a lot, demanding he only film her good angles for the segment. you and mj weren’t wrong when you told him to be careful.

later on when he saw you again, everything was okay. he was physically shaking as brad told him mr. osborn requested to see him. brad is mr. osborn’s assistant. a try-hard for sure, but good at his job. why did mr. osborn call him in? did betty complain already?

they’d been sitting in mostly silence, save for small talk until you came knocking on the door. simply being next to you was enough to ground peter and his racing thoughts. it was enough, then it wasn’t.

the whole day had gone to shit after he found out you were going to be writing stories about his alter ego. not only that, but he was helping. during the pitch, he’d texted ned to meet him in the bathroom. he was really anxious and needed a friend who understood why.

ned accidentally found out peter is spider-man last year. it’s a long story that involves peter hiding from some bad guys in the building and ned shrieking so loud the lights flickered. they’re cool now that peter talked things through with him. his secret has been kept, from what he knows.

pushing open the men’s bathroom door, peter is a mixture of sweat and ragged breaths. he’s panting from his fast descent down the staircase. he takes in his disheveled appearance using one of the mirrors. his styled hair is now damp and undone, hands trembling and palms sweaty, chest heaving. here’s his daily reminder that anxiety is not cute. as if he didn’t know.

his stupid, gigantic freaking sweater is only making things worse. it’s suffocating him. no one else is in here, so peter pulls it over his head and tosses it to the ground. he’s got a t-shirt on underneath that happens to be black. what a convenient day for him to wear the hottest material there is.

peter splashes his face with some cold water next to try and cool himself down. that doesn’t do much for him. his face still feels like it’s on fire, but now it’s wet. he takes his hands through his mop of curls, backing away from the sink.

“fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck,” peter repeats to himself. he’s silent for a moment, then rage overcomes him. he kicks open a bathroom stall. “shit! i can’t do this. what am i supposed to-“

the door creeks open, so peter shuts up in case it isn’t ned. it thankfully is, and he wears a deep frown at the sight of his best friend. “dude, what happened? you look...” “terrible. i know,” peter finishes for him. he tugs at his locks in another attempt to tame them. ned approaches him carefully. “you’re not, like, dying... are you? because betty was telling me you have to-“ “of course you were with betty,” peter exhales in frustration. “no, ned. i’m not dying.”

in ned’s defense, the text he received was very alarming. all peter wrote was, ‘EMERGENCY. SOS.’

“i mean, yeah. it was my break.” ned sits on the ledge by the window, close to peter. “you do the same with y/n.” the mention of your name upsets peter all over again. he hides his face in his hands as ned watches. “if you’re not dying, then what’s the problem?” ned finally asks. “me and y/n...” peter removes his hands from his face, meeting ned’s worried eyes. “mr. osborn wants us to do a project together.”

“uh, peter? you’ve been saying how much you miss her forever, dude! you’re not excited?” ned snorts at him. he means well, but he has no clue what he’s talking about. “no. it’s supposed to be about spider-man,” peter answers angrily. this isn’t the support he was hoping for. realizing the severity of the situation, ned gets serious.

“oh... but, you’re still doing it?” he questions. “i didn’t have a choice,” peter scoffs out. “i can’t let either of them down.” “you’ll expose yourself!” ned escalates things further. “it’s not like that. we’re gonna follow spider-man around and post updates on him,” peter says, technically in the third person. he’s given an are you insane? look from ned.

“you are spider-man! and, no offense, but you’re not so good at hiding it,” ned refers to himself finding out. “how are you gonna be in two places at once?” damnit, peter hadn’t thought about that yet. he can’t be taking pictures of spider-man and swinging from building to building simultaneously. “i- i’ll figure it out,” peter stammers, unconvincingly.

ned looks him over in a disapproving way. “jeez. you’re really putting your life on the line for this girl-“ “woman,” peter interjects, not loving ned’s attitude towards you. “have some respect.” unfazed, ned gets up from the windowsill. “speaking of women, remember betty? you’re still on the clock,” he changes the subject. peter nearly forgot he has to go film her segment.

“i’ll head up to her now,” peter gives in. he scoops up his discarded sweater, not bothering to check his appearance again. ned follows behind him to the door. “we wrote her script together, you know,” he gladly informs peter, who already knows from you. “not really a flex,” peter mumbles his response. “peter, lighten up.” ned hits at his shoulder. the two of them exit the bathroom.

“you’ll figure this out later. i can always help.” he shoots him a sugary sweet smile. “thanks, ned. for talking with me and everything.” peter doesn’t smile back. they do a quick bro handshake, then they’re going their separate ways. “have a good show, dude!” ned yells back, to which he doesn’t get a response. peter doesn’t have it in him.

he allows himself to take the elevator back up to broadcasting. he’s so drained from the several anxiety attacks he endured. while peter waists for the elevator, he contemplates all the issues he’d better solve. it’s a relief to hear it ding because it brings him back to earth. that doesn’t last long because both you and betty are there when the door opens.

you’d each had the same idea, to find peter. unlike betty, your intentions were good. you asked liz if she saw peter leave. she told you he went downstairs, so you did also. betty was already in the elevator when it got to your stop. she was looking for him because, you guessed it, he had to record the news. the small space was filled with tension as you and betty occupied it.

“perfect. we’re going right back up,” betty beams, motioning for peter with her index finger. “hop in!” “coming,” peter does as told, going to stand between you and betty. she presses the button for your floor and theirs. the doors close. “pete?” you speak up, voice soft. “you kinda ran off earlier. i thought you were with betty.” “clearly, he wasn’t,” betty sneers.

you’re less concerned with her and more with peter. the sweater he looked so huggable in is now folded in his arms, his face splotchy and jaw clenched. he must have gotten triggered by something back in norman’s office.

“are you sure you’re okay? you... you can talk to me about it.” you take a step closer to peter, your doe eyes searching for his. he meets them with a tiny smile. at least, it’s real this time. “i’ll be fine, y/n/n. ‘s nice that you came to check on me, though.” “don’t mention it.” your arms loop around his neck and bring him into a hug. peter hugs you back by your middle, chin resting on your shoulder, breathing out in relief.

you keep your hands on his shoulders when you pull back. his stay on your sides, a lopsided grin now crossing his features. “spider-man...” you quirk an eyebrow. “how are you feeling about that?” “should be cool,” peter somehow maintains himself. “i’m mostly looking forward to doing it with you.”

listening in, betty joins the conversation. “what’s happening with spider-man? anything i should know?” her hand reaches into her bag and emerges with a notepad. does she ever think of her own content? “she’s nothing if not persistent,” you grumble to peter. chuckling, he pulls you into his chest. if he didn’t hold you back, you would’ve pounced on her.

“we’re gonna do a piece on him,” peter tells her. “you can’t copy or steal this one because it’s already been approved,” you contribute, smiling smugly as peter holds you tighter. betty is taken aback. “are you accusing me of stealing? who said i-“ “ned ratted on you... sorry,” peter says in a sing song voice. squealing, you jump away from him. “he did? we were right?”

“mj’s never wrong,” he reiterates. “mj knew about this? oh my god, i can’t believe her!” betty stomps her foot. “we got you on candid camera.” you make a clicking noise with your mouth. peter mimes taking a picture to back you up. “alright, alright. i won’t do it again,” betty mumbles, turning away from you two in annoyance.

“finally!” you hold up your hand for a high five, which peter gives you. “we really do make the best team,” he hums. your fingers intertwine with peter’s, and he lays his palm flat against yours. he prays extremely hard you don’t notice that it’s sweaty. you do, but you couldn’t care less.

“i was wondering when you’d wanna start our... research?” peter asks you, his lip between his teeth. “you were saying something earlier. maybe we could make a schedule.” “how elaborate of us that would be,” you tease. that earns a breathy laugh from peter. with a knowing smile, you put your free hand back on his shoulder.

“what are you doing tonight?”

peter parker taglist

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if i forgot you please lmk!

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shlutnutt · 3 years

Text

"you were?"

w: orgasm denial, handjob, sub colin, dom reader, slightly public sexual interactions // not really proof read *

"You were?" insisted Colin whilst looking directly into your eyes, keeping his rough cold hands inside his long jacket's inner pockets, allowing the cold wind kiss both of your faces.

He was positive that you in fact spyed on him whilst he showered, admiring how magical he looked as the warm water droplets caressed his soft skin, how he massaged himself every single time he stepped in the shower, he knew, and knew well.

"Why would I even do that? We're coworkers, aren't we?" you replied in ease, adoring how his curious brown puppy eyes stared into your own, in attentiveness.

It were the times like these that made your interest for Colin arise to unimaginable levels, the times where he gains up the courage to even go speak to you, let you know that he'll be there to help, that he'll be there whenever you needed a second hand with the ongoing investigations.

"what does us being coworkers have to do with anything?" he giggled, hiding his adorable timid smile whilst mainting that eye contact that drove you over the edge, that made you just want to attach your lips onto his in that instant, to allow the warmth of both of your bodies combine into one, he felt the same way, you deep down knew he did.

Zable's a soft pup, didn't take a scientist to figure that one out, a needy one in fact. The way he wouldn't go a day without pleasing himself, moaning and groaning profanities along the way, whimpering out your name at times. You'd sit in the office right outside of the bathroom, just to hear his sweet submissive self, going crazy to his own touch. Having everything memorized you've never got caught up, except for the one time he's seen you just right outside of the stall pretending you've forgotten something.

"well, coworkers don't originally do that.. kinda stuff." you were quick to respond, attempting to make the awkwardness in the conversation become a better sympathetic one, zable tilting his head slightly to the side in perplexion. "what do you mean by 'that kinda stuff'?, just say it! pleasure and sex." he grinned, demonstrating his soft dimples in the slight grin he exposed, watching how giggly you've become to the words coming out of his mouth.

"well, yeah." you returned the smile, observing how he suddenly removed his hands from the warm pockets in his jacket, creating friction in between his hands, in attempt of warming them up a bit. You only eyed his sudden moves before feeling his huge hands connect to both of your cheeks, lifting your head up slightly, admiring the blushy effect he himself had created.

"yup.. pleasure and sex." you fill in the tensing silence, quite avoiding the sparkle of his eyes to reattach themselves onto yours again, falling onto the warmth of his hands on your face, his soft smile not once leaving his form. "what do you know about pleasure and sex, y/n?" colin questioned, taking you by surprise to reconnecting your eyes with his. "i know a fair amount." you answer, feeling the beat of your heart quicken at an incredible pace, making it difficult for you to say anything else. "how about you?" you were quick to retrace after noticing the sweet smile that attached to his face drop into a moderate smirk.

"let's say a fair amount, also." speculated zable, before closing the distance of your faces instantaneously, sliding his lips through yours, not yet giving into the full kiss, making you chase his lips desperately.

"ask me how i knew you wanted this?" broke off colin, in the millimeter of space there held between your needy mouths. "tell me baby." you instantly release, not yet giving into the kiss you both craved just so much.

"i caught you spying on me the other day, i even heard you." reported colin in nothing but a seductive mumble as he closed the gap once again this time fully giving into the kiss, allowing his lips to intertwine with your own soft ones in hopelessness. He tried, and hard, to dominate you. To make you his, to make you squirm under him, when all he was, was a soft submissive pup who deep down wanted to be edged till' he continuously begged to cum.

You rapidly detached his hands from your face, attaching your own onto his neck into a soft chokehold, causing a grin to slightly interrupt the kiss before you went back to connecting your lips onto his, this time allowing the kiss to grow deeper and deeper, authorizing his wettened tongue to slip between your lips. The two of you making out now, whilst attaching your bodies closer and closer to minimize the cold winds that surfaced.

"think you can be a good boy for me?" you challenged in the kiss, producing a tiny whimper to escape colin's needy lips, him looking at you in need attempting to hide the thick boner that emerged through his dress pants. "don't hide that from me honey, i want to look at it." you taunted, tracing his nipples with your fingers through his shirt, him attempting to disclose his uncontrollable heavy breathing.

"b-but what if they.. see us.. y/n.." groaned zable ever so near into your ear, turning you on more than what you couldn't imagine was enough.

"we'll be fine baby boy, its an alley nobody goes through, okay?" you assure before pressing soft open mouthed kisses along his freshly shaved jawline and neck, zable throwing his head back in pleasure, giving you more access. "like this?" you teased, inserting your right hand into his pants, slightly massaging his leaking bulge through his boxers. "mhm.." he hummed in response, pressing his lips together to contain his angelic moans from arising once again, taking into consideration the fact that you guys were outside. "use your words angel." you indicated, massaging onto his hard on harsher now, feeling how tense he's become. "yes, yes.. y/n. i like that.. beautiful." revealed colin, the small nickname added at the end of his sentence, making your core tingle.

Colin couldn't resist it, not for a second, couldn't resist the small kisses and massages that you praised him with, he couldn't handle all of the sudden tension that you were more than willing of acclaiming him with more of. He was oddly warm and fully submitted to you, allowing you to do anything you'd like to him, as his soft and low groans complemented his delicate divine beauty under you. He was needy, absolutely needy and hopeless, nearly cumming on himself from the slight love bites you attached onto his pale skin, the wet kisses you contracted along his adam's apple and sharp jawline, to back to his mouth, you only enjoying how much he struggled with kissing you back whilst you fully toyed around with his now purple-tipped cock.

"im..clo-" attempted to whimper out colin before you shushed him yet again with another kiss, replacing his words with your own. "don't cum until i tell you, precious." was all you said to witness zable nodding aggressively to your order, you taking it as a sign to speed up your movements on his throbbing member, lifting your hand up towards your face to spit on it and returning it onto his cock, continuously, using your saliva as lube. You only sped up your massaging to fully stroking him through his pants, unbuttoning the one single black button on his dress pants for more available stroking space, feeling your ears get utterly blessed by his soft whimpers, him biting on your neck to keep quiet, one of his hands carefully applied onto your breast while the other one was lightly pressed on your lower back, pulling you in closer and closer to him, producing a slight amount of friction with your soaked up core, his pulsating member and the rapid movement of your hand.

"please.. please. it hurts."

"please what, darling?"

"i want to cum, please let me cum.. please.." begged zable, wanting nothing but to be able to release, you shaking your head in denial producing a long groan to supress out of his now dried out lips from moaning. You now pulled out his thumping cock, to be surprised with the sight of his purple tip leaking in precum, staining the brown furry coat you were. He was surprisingly large, "when you cum, say my name okay?" you requested, the man nodding urgently between a mix of profanities and yeses.

You now accommodated your knees onto the pavement you both stood on, opening your mouth widely to suckle him once, "go on, my sweet slut, come for me." you ordered, allowing colin to release loads and loads of his cum onto your face groaning out your name in between. You only licked up the warm liquids the softly caressed your face, quickly getting up from your uncomfortable stance to attach your lips onto his. Colin kissing you back urgently in between breathy moans as he attempted to come down from his high.

"good pup." you praised, whilst returning his softnening member to its natural warm habitat carefully. Zable being left completely speechless from the adrenaline, collapsing onto your shoulder in relief.

"Coworkers don't do this kinda stuff." he whispered onto your ear, kissing it delicately.

taglist: @divineruler @copy-of-a-cheeto @booboomother @evanmybeloved @billyhxrgrove @sinnersblood @crssjjh @myriadofcranes @mossybank

#evan peters #smut #imagines #x dom!reader #colin zable #colinzable #mare of easttown #detective colin zable #dirty imagine #fanfic

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adezahnae · 3 years

Text

Temptation #1

Temptation and New Feeling:

⚠️This will contain 21+ scenes and language if you don’t like, please leave!!⚠️

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“YN!” My husband, James yelled. I walked to where he was. “What is it?” I asked. “You got a package.” He said handing me the box. I took it, looking at it confusingly. “What is this?” I asked. “You think I know? You see, it’s for you.” He said, walking back into his office. I rolled my eyes and walked back to our bedroom.

I opened the packaging and seen that it was a brand box from a very expensive store. I opened the box and seen a black, tight, sequin, dress. I gasped and pulled it out. I then thought, the only person I know that would give me such a gift from. I saw my phone light up as I looked at the dress. I picked it up to see who it was:

Taemin: Hey, I wanted to let you know that I’m going to take you out tonight! Get dressed in the dress I gave you and I’ll be there at 8:45pm. Love you🤍

I gasped and squealed. Taemin is my coworker and has been best friend since college. We always hang around each other and go to places me and my own husband hasn’t been. He always refer to himself as my ‘second husband.’ During the past days we’ve hung out together, I began to feel things I shouldn’t feel as a married woman.

I would always love the way he would call me by my nickname, Stars. He would call me that because he always say I have stars in my eyes and I always brighten him up each day. I would tend to have...dreams...about him. Thinking of things I should think of with my husband. I would like the way he looked at me when I talked.

He look and listen to me all the time. He held a special place in my heart and I couldn’t even think of ruining this friendship with him. I began to get ready since he would be here in 30 minutes. Knowing Taem, he can get a little impatient and began to blow his horn, waking up the neighbors. And that is a damn headache.

I was putting the finishing touches on my makeup when James walked in the room. “Where are you going?” He asked. “Out with Taemin.” I replied, putting down my blush brush. “You’re always out with that guy.” He said. “Well that ‘guy’ happens to be my best friend for ten plus years. Thank you.” I said turning around and facing him.

“Yeah, but why are you both always going out like you both are dating or something? He bought you that dress didn’t he?” He asked. “Yes he did.” I replied. “Now what type of friend/coworker buys their friend/coworker an expensive dress like that? He does too much for me..” James said. I huffed. He always does this. It makes me sick that every time I go out with Taemin, he gets all sketchy and defensive. Like he cares.

“Well a friend who see their other friend struggling to get the strong need of her husband to spend some time with her. Now if you excuse me, I need to get outside, he’s here.” I said grabbing my purse and my long coat getting up. “Yn don’t be like that.” He said reaching for me. I dodged his touch putting on my coat and walked outside to see Taem already there, waiting for me.

“Taemin! Hi!” I exclaimed running up to him to hug him. He chuckled and hugged me back. “Hi Stars.” He greeted. There it is..the nickname. I pulled away and turned around. “Bye James. Be back later.” I said. Taemin opened the door for me and let me in.

“Yeah, see ya later James.” Taemin said closing the door for me. He walked to the other side and and got in, starting the car. “Ready?” He asked. “Yep!” I said clicking my seatbelt and relaxing. He always had the nicest car.

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Me and Taem were at the restaurant, enjoying ourselves and having a good time. As we were talking, I would just think of the things I usually do. The way he talks, walks, looks, and even feels. All of these thoughts led me to think...unholy...it reminded me of a dream I’ve had..twice.

As I was thinking, he snapped you out of it with his words. “Whatcha thinking about?” He asked with a smirk on his face. “Huh? Oh nothing.” I laughed grabbing my wine glass and taking a drink from it. “Then why are you staring at me like that?” He asked, quirking his eyebrow.

I cleared my throat and shook my head. “Nothing...” I mumbled. “You’re thinking of me?” He asked tilting his head to the other side as he sat back in his chair. “W-What? No! No.” I lied, shifting in my seat. Why did I feel such a hot wave go over me? It’s like he just put me in a spot.

“You want me don’t you?” He asked with the most shit-eating grin ever. My eyes widened and I felt like I was in trouble. “No...I..Min come on, don’t be stupid alright?” I said. He sat up in his chair. “Don’t lie to me. I know how you are and I know how your behavior has switched this week. Staring at me, zoning out, clenching your legs together when I call you by your nickname. You make a lot obvious Yn.” He explained.

What. The. Hell. How did he know?! How is he THAT observant?! “U-Uh..um.” He laughed at me with a smirk. “You know it’s funny..” He said. “What is?” I asked. “Because I think about you too.” He said looking me in the eyes. A blush crept up on my face. I cleared my throat and took a sip of wine. “Wow..I never knew..” I mumbled.

He took my glass and sat it down slowly. “Yn..I know you okay and I know when you want something or someone. And right now, this is your safe place.” He said. He leaned closer to me and began to touch my cheek. My eyes flattered shut for a little, feeling his hand on me. “Taemin, look..I’m...” I mumbled. “You’re married, I know...but I know Yn. You really want me.” He said.

“Yeah but...” I mumbled. “Then answer my question. Do you want me?” He asked. His thumb began to caress my cheek and my eyes fluttered shut again. At this point, he knows. There’s no point in hiding it and well..it been a while for me. This one chance shouldn’t hurt me. Right?

“I do...” I whispered. “Tell me.” He said. I looked up at him. “What?” I asked. “Tell me that you want me..” He whispered brushing his thumb now on my bottom lip. “I want you...” I mumbled. He gripped my chin and pulled me into a deep kiss. I gasped as he did and he took the chance to slip his tongue inside my mouth.

“Come home with me..” He mumbled against my lips. “O-Okay..” I said back causing him to smile at me.

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We didn’t even make it to the bedroom and we were already all over each other. He pulled my jacket off my shoulders and threw it on the floor along with his and walked us through the door and picked me up as he led us upstairs. We went into his bedroom and he thrown me on the bed. He unbuttoned his shirt and threw it off of him, across the room.

He pulled me down by the ankles and hiked up my dress. His finger grazed over my heat making me shiver and whimper. “Aren’t you wet huh?” He asked. “Min, don’t tease..” I mumbled. “I do what I please, remember that Starry.” He said with a smirk.

His words made me pool my own underwear again. He hiked my dress up more and took his teeth and pulled down my underwear. I bit my lip as he did so, I’ve never had anyone do this to me. Not even my own husband. He grabbed them from his mouth and threw it somewhere in the room.

He buried his face back in between my legs and began to work his mouth. I gasped and whined out at the feeling I haven’t ever felt. “Oh my god...Shit!” I cursed as I took a grip on his hair. He hummed against me making me arch my back. His eyes closed in delight. “You taste sweet..” He mumbled. He swirled his tongue around my hole and stuck it in.

“Oh fuck!” I cursed again, pulling at his hair again and grabbing my left breast. He took his thumb and rubbed it over my nub. “Taemin! I’m gonna cum!” I moaned. He brought his mouth to my nub and pushed his ring and middle finger in, piston them at a fast pace. I whined out and arched my back off the bed.

He fingered me through my high and slowed down. I sighed as I came down from it. My heavy breathing was all that could be heard in the room. I looked down to see him sucking his fingers off. “Mmm...very much sweet..” He said.

I sat up on the bed and kissed on his neck as I began to try and unbuckle his belt. He let out a chuckle and helped me out by finishing it. He removed it from the loops of his pants. “Give me your hands..” He whispered. I pulled away from his neck and did so. He took his belt and wrapped it around my wrists. He secured it and laid me back down.

He took the end of my dress and slid it down my body, throwing it where our clothes were. I didn’t wear a bra since it was strapless. He licked his lips as he stared at me. I looked away, feeling a little shy since it’s been a while since a man has taken a look at me. He grabbed my chin softly and made me look at him again.

“You don’t need to be shy around me, Yn. It’s your husband that should be embarrassed for letting this all go to waste...” He said. I blushed at his complement, feeling special. He leaned down and kissed me softly. I kissed back hard, feeling an amazing spark in me. “Min..” I whispered. “Hm?” He replied. “Fuck me.” I said looking in his eyes.

He formed a smirk and kissed on my neck. He kissed up to my ear and whispered in it. “Gladly..” He pulled his pants and briefs off and threw them on the floor. He took a condom and slipped it on. He spread my legs more and put them on his waist. He lifted my arms to where they were above my head and slowly pushed and rolled himself in.

I gasped and cried out, feeling the feeling I haven’t felt in a year. “You’re okay?” He asked. “Damn it Taemin, FUCK ME!” I yelled. He smiled. “Okay.” He said. He pulled out completely and slammed back inside. I cried and gripped at the belt. He then began to bottom out, hard.

“Yes!! Fuck yess!” I moaned feeling like I was on a cloud. He groaned and grunted and gripped my hips. “So tight..fuck.” He groaned. The heels of my shoes dug into the lower part of his back. He took my left leg and lifted it up to his shoulder. He began to hit a good spot. “Right there! Please, right there!” I moaned.

He chuckled and grabbed my ankle and kissed on my calf and bit on it. I hummed at the feeling and arched my back again. “Taemin, I’m gonna cum again!!” I groaned. “Do it baby..cum on me..” He whispered. He pushed his hips harder causing me to scream. I did so and cried. “That’s it..good girl..” He praised. I jolted at those words alone, knowing I have a praise kink.

He smiled and kissed my neck, making another hickie. He pulled out and turned me around to where I was on my hands and knees. He pushed my face down more and arched my back more. “A-Aren’t you a man of control huh?” I asked turning around to look at him with a smirk.

“And aren’t you a submissive little slut?” He asked back and landed a smack on my butt. “Mmm fuck Taem..” I whimpered. “You didn’t think I would know about your little degrading kink as well? I observe you a lot, Starry..” He said. I giggled and wiggled back onto him. “Please do that again?” I asked, wanting to feel the sting again.

He did so with a chuckle as I jerked forward. “You like that don’t you, slut?” He asked in my ear. I bit my lip and nodded my head. He bit down on my ear. “I can’t hear that.” He whispered darkly, making me shiver. “Yes sir..” I mumbled. “Good girl..” He replied.

He pushed himself in again at full force and began to bottom out. I gasped and bit the pillow. He groaned. “Gosh this feels so good..” I whispered. “Yeah? It does, slut?” He asked. I nodded, clenching around him at his words. He began to thrust harder and hit a good spot. I cried out and rolled my eyes to the back of my head. He growled.

“This is all you needed right? To be fucked really good like a slut should be, huh?” He asked. I nodded my head moaning and groaning. “Yes sir! Oh fuck yes! It’s all I needed.” I whined in the pillows. He took my hair and wrapped it around his hand, pulling it back.

“Let me hear you..” He whispered. “Yesss Sirrr!!!” I whined. I felt the knot in my stomach get tighter and tighter. “Are you gonna cum?” He asked breathing heavily, knowing that he was close as well. “Yes! Oh FUCK YES!” I screamed. He smirked and yanked my hair harder going harder than before.

I gripped the belt on my wrists tighter and bit the pillow under me. He growled out as he felt himself release. “FUCK!” He growled. I moaned out as I reached my high. He slowed down as he rode out our highs. He lightly laughed as I settled my noises. “Feels good?” He asked. I nodded as I babbled words I couldn’t make out myself. The last thing I felt was his lips on the back of my neck, making me feel calm and sleepy...

#taemin smut #taemin x reader #taemin #shinee smut #shinee x reader #super m x reader #super m smut

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sharkbait77 · 3 years

Text

The Singer (Marcus Pike x f!Reader)

Chapter One

Summary: Reeling from his failed engagement a year later, Marcus had nearly given up hope on finding love again. A spur of the moment night at a local bar leads him to you and he is immediately entranced. However, you are also still healing from a bad relationship; can you and Marcus help heal each other?

A/N: Omg okay I'm so nervous posting this because I just don't know how people will respond and my writing is nowhere near as good as anyone else's on here but I've never been this excited about a fic I wrote so I'm going for it 🥲 be gentle pls lol also I'm horrible at summaries, that's taken from a future chapter but it pretty much sums up the feelings from both sides lol this is the only time I'll post it, but it'll be on the story masterlist.

Warnings: I just wanna say really quick that Reader is a victim of domestic abuse & she describes it later (the future chapter is an optional read) but it is indicated/mentioned throughout the story so I totally understand if you'd rather not continue reading to avoid it! Also for future reference I will put the 18+ warning now. Refer to masterlist for more warnings.

There's not really any warning for this chapter, a mention of a degree in the arts not being a practical one (it's only meant to be part of the stigma, it's not my actual opinion), mention of alcohol, a cop joke & mention of Teresa 🤢 lmk if I missed anything!

W/C: 3.9k

Side note: This fic has its own soundtrack, just a song or two in each chapter (give or take) so I will link the songs mentioned at the top if y'all would like to hear them.

I'm rambling so without further ado, please enjoy & I would love the feedback!

Songs mentioned:

(I recommend listening to this one ↑ first cuz I describe it starting at the 2nd chorus & it just might help with the visual)

Chapter Two

The Singer Masterlist

Letting out a deep, frustrated sigh, Marcus flipped the confidential file closed and threw it on his desk, rubbing his eyes until the kaleidoscope of different shapes and patterns appeared behind the darkness of his eyelids. He knew he wouldn't get anywhere closer to putting together the new evidence the department received today, no matter how much he stared at the paperwork. He figures it was time to call it a day and he decides he'll stop at his favorite bar on the way home, just a beer or two to help him relax.

"Hey Pike," his coworker, Anthony, said as he knocked on the open door twice with his index finger knuckle. "Today beat my ass and I could really use a drinking partner."

"You read my mind," Marcus replies, standing from his swivel chair and cracking his stiff back in the process before grabbing his suit jacket and leaving his office.

"There's this new-ish place, it's called Cecil's. Really easy going and laid back; they have an amazing live band and singer. I think you'd like it." Anthony explains in a convincing tone, hoping Marcus would say yes.

"A live band?" Marcus groans.

"What, you're not into it?" Anthony chuckles.

"Music in general, I don't really listen to anything anymore." Marcus brooded as he thought back on his failed engagement last year.

He had moved on from what happened, but it was a wound that left a scar on his heart, never to be forgotten. As a result, he learned to tune out melodies as he walked through the grocery store or mall and always kept his radio off in the car now for fear of catching a song that reminded him of Teresa, of the hurt she caused him.

"C'mon, I promise you'll like it!" Anthony persuades.

"Well...I've trusted your judgement so far, I don't think you'd let me down now. Let's go," Marcus gives in, mainly because he just really wants a beer and doesn't feel like arguing. He flashes a tired smile and walks behind Anthony, who grabs his own jacket from his desk before they both head out of the building.

They continue walking a few blocks down from the bureau when they reach what looks like a hole in the wall bar with a bright, marquee style sign above the entrance lit up with the name Cecil's. They walk in and hear the band playing a tune that Marcus immediately ignores out of habit. They greet the security guard and walk towards the bar top, all while Marcus takes in his new environment; a quaint little bar that has dimmed, recessed lighting and small, round tables, each one with an oil lantern as a centerpiece, creating only enough light for the couple sitting there. It seemed more of a romantic setting, confirmed by both young and elderly couples basking in the ambiance and giving one another flirtatious glances. Marcus thought to tease Anthony about it, grinning to himself as he thinks of a joke.

Marcus opens his mouth to speak when finally he hears you, your soft, yet powerful voice bursting through the walls in his ears. You're singing the song "Blue Bayou" by Linda Ronstadt, one of his favorites he used to have on rotation in his playlist. His breath catches in his throat as you belt out the chorus with ease. He stops walking, completely entranced by your voice and for the first time in a year, he lets the sweet melody dance against his ear drums. He begins to stare unapologetically, the spotlight shining bright on you and helping to isolate you in his mind.

After catching his attention with your voice, he takes note of your features and couldn't help as his eyes gazed upon you from head to toe. You were swaying in rhythm to the song, the long, boho style skirt flowing along with your movement. There's no doubt he would have thought you were attractive just in passing, but with a voice like that coming out of that body, Marcus knew he needed to know who you are. Anthony comes up next to him and nudges Marcus's arm, startling him out of his stupor.

"I told you she was great!" Anthony exclaims in Marcus's ear, careful not to be too loud to interrupt your singing. Marcus could only nod, never once taking his eyes off you; the longer he looked, the more he felt a familiar flame of desire burn within him.

He watches your eyes close as you get caught in the feel of the song, your face crinkle with passion during the louder notes and smooth out with a beautiful grin as you hit the softer ones, your voice adjusting perfectly to help the audience feel the emotion of the song as well. You clearly love singing and he could tell it wasn't just a hobby or paycheck for you. Marcus knew a lot about art on canvas, but you were art come to life, being painted right before his eyes. Since his whirlwind romance in Texas, he had never felt so inclined to know more about a person that wasn't involved in a crime he was trying to solve.

The small, slow break comes in the song and it gives you a chance to look around at the members sitting in the audience in front of you, some with their eyes on you and some with their eyes on their lovers. As you glance to the patrons sitting at the bar top, your heart skips a beat when your eyes lock on to a pair of soft, brown ones, belonging to a person you've never seen at the bar before.

He's staring at you with such an intensity and admiration you haven't felt in all the years you've been a singer. Your stomach flips and suddenly you feel very nervous and self conscious, something else you haven't felt since you started singing live. It doesn't help the fact that he's very handsome as well and from where you're standing, you can see scruff lining his jawline, matching the dark brown hair on his head.

His friend pats the intense man on the shoulder and he finally breaks his gaze from yours as he sits down in one of the stools, just in time for you to continue singing the last lines of the song. You close your eyes and hit the last high note a little shakier than usual, your nerves now rattled from the stranger, but you hold the vibrato steady until the last chords of the guitars are played. You lower the microphone, opening your eyes once again and smiling at the cheering and clapping crowd.

"Thank you, thank you," you tell the audience and as you wait for them to quiet down, you can't stop your curious eyes from flicking up to look at the man, goosebumps littering your arms when you see him staring intently at you once again, now with his jacket off and sleeves rolled up his forearms. He has a beer waiting for him on the counter, but his hands are busy clapping for you and his whole body is facing forward to give you his undivided attention. You look away quickly, trying not to stare and the clapping dies down.

"We've got one more song before we join the crowd," you smile as you speak softly and even toned. "We'll have some drinks and we'll have some fun. Thank you for being a wonderful audience tonight."

There's some light clapping once you finish talking and your band mates begin to play the intro to "Dreams" by Fleetwood Mac. You glance up at the man again and you see his eyes perk up even more and he starts smiling widely. He must like this song, you think to yourself. Something inside you wants to impress him and show off, but the practical side of you starts singing like you've been practicing. You sing the lyrics in all the highs and lows of the song, occasionally stealing looks from the brown eyed man. You manage to make it all the way to the end without messing up and the audience cheers for you again.

"Thank you everyone, I hope you enjoyed the show tonight, you all have been great and we will see you next week," you say with a smile and the generic soundtrack picks up over the speakers, playing a mix of classic rock and instrumentals.

You place the microphone back on the stand and turn to face your band. You all praise and congratulate each other on another successful show. As the other half of your group walks off the stage, you're left with your closest friend from the band, Celina, as she slowly puts her guitar back in its case. She calls you over to her, wanting you to get close enough so she can whisper. You chuckle and step close inside her personal bubble.

"There's a guy at the bar who would not stop staring at you," she whispers, fiddling with her guitar case unnecessarily longer than usual to make it look like she's busy.

"I know, I saw him too. He's kinda cute," you giggle and Celina gives you her famous 'excuse me' face. "Okay, he's hot," you correct yourself and Celina nods erratically, agreeing with your statement.

"Should I go talk to him?" You ask and Celina's eyes dart from yours to beyond your shoulder.

"I think he beat you to it," she whispers, trying to contain her excitement.

Your heartbeat speeds up and you turn around to see the well dressed man walking onto the stage and towards you. Your skirt trails behind you as you walk forward and the motion catches Marcus's eyes as he looks down at your legs being outlined underneath the fabric. His eyes then trail up to your torso and catch on the strip of skin peeking out between the top of your skirt and underneath your white, knotted t-shirt.

"I'm sorry sir, only the band can be up here," you explain, closing the gap and preventing him from walking any further.

"Oh...I, uh-," his eyes move back up to yours and he stutters and freezes, unsure if he should turn around and leave or try to get you to let him stay, but you already had your own plans.

"I'm on the way to the bar now if you'd like to walk me," you smile and dial up the charm slightly, not wanting to come across too eager.

He smiles at you and you detect a dimple hiding beneath his patchy beard on his right cheek, but not the other. Damn, he's much more gorgeous up close. He lets you walk off the stage first and follows close behind as you weave through the tables, stopping to wait for you as you briefly say hello to people.

The breeze you create as you walk wafts into Marcus's face, a gentle, floral scent from your perfume mingling in his nostrils and he finds it irresistible as he feels a primal instinct build inside him, like a caveman finding his mate. An elderly woman stops you to start up a conversation and you turn to the man to apologize for the hold up, squeezing his arm softly as you do.

It makes Marcus's heart flutter and he blushes and feels his skin heat up at your touch. He looks down at your delicate fingers and painted nails, contrasting against his skin as they apply the lightest pressure on his bare forearm. He still can't take his eyes off you; you've already been so charming both on and off the stage and it only further intrigues him to get to know you.

"Hello Ms. Lidia, did you enjoy the show?" You ask the silver haired woman and her wrinkled eyes nearly shut close with how wide she smiles at you.

"Dear girl, in all my years I've never heard such passion come from such a beautiful young lady, you've got what it takes to blow all these other singers out of the water!" She says passionately as she grips your hand tightly.

"Oh my, I'm flattered, but there's no way I could make it to the big leagues. Besides, that would mean I wouldn't sing for you anymore and I'd miss you too much!" You tell her and before she can say anything else, you end the conversation, saying that you'll see her next week. You and the gorgeous man finally make it to the bar, the bartender walking over to you as you walk up.

"Hey Jim, can I get hot water with lemon and a vodka cran?" You reach down instinctively to grab your purse when you realize it's not on your body. "Oh shoot, I left my purse on the stage," you pat your hand on your forehead and giggle. "Just the water then."

"Please, allow me," the handsome stranger says and you look up at him, just now noticing the considerable height difference between you two. You smile warmly at him.

"Yeah, sure," you bite your bottom lip to keep your mouth from stretching into a wider smile than it already is as you watch him order a drink as well. "Thank you."

"Of course, it's the least I could do after that amazing performance," he smiles at you, once again showing off that ridiculously adorable dimple. Jim swiftly returns with your water and you begin to sip slowly, sitting down on the barstool and Marcus sits in the stool next to yours, his and your legs pointing to each other.

"Ah, you exaggerate," you wrinkle your nose and shake your head. "I wouldn't go that far."

"It's true though, and for what it's worth, I agree with Ms. Lidia back there. You've really got what it takes," his smile never leaves his face and you feel like your heart could just about fly away at this point.

Jim returns to place your drinks in front of you and the brown haired man pays him with a $20 bill, telling him to keep the change and Jim thanks him and walks away. You bring the glass to your mouth, instantly smelling the strong scent of vodka mixed with the cranberry and it tingles your nose.

"No, no... Thank you, but no," you smile back and chuckle awkwardly into your drink. Marcus tweaks his eyebrows slightly, confused at how you suddenly became very shy and demure when on stage you seemed so confident in your singing abilities.

"My name is Marcus Pike," he introduces himself and you hold your hand out to shake his, giving him your name as well. You feel a shock of electricity as your soft hand brushes against the skin of his slightly calloused one, his handshake firm, but gentle. It's like Cinderella's glass slipper, your hand fitting perfectly in his.

"So how long have you been singing?" He asks and takes a sip of his drink.

"Oh, I've always loved to sing since I was little," you beam as a memory pops into your head of a seven year old you singing to your audience of stuffed animals. "I kept it up throughout middle and high school, but once I got to college I had to focus on my schooling more."

"What did you go to school for?"

"I got my bachelor's in art history," you look at him and his eyes widen. "I know, you can't ever make a job out of anything in the arts." You shake your head as you feel the regret of your confession creep in, hoping he doesn't look down on you for not having a more practical degree.

"Well, I wouldn't say that," he laughs and it piques your curiosity. "I uh..." He pauses for a moment, leaving you in suspense. "I work for the government in the art department."

"What, really?" You ask, unable to hide the excitement in your voice. He grins at how interested you seem. Whenever he mentioned it to a girl he was on a date with they would think it was so boring.

"What do you do? Are you like a special agent? Can you even answer any of my questions?" The questions spill out of you faster than you can stop yourself.

"Well, I can't talk about certain things, but yes I'm an FBI agent. I lead a task force dealing in international art theft."

He explains past cases he's worked on as you rest your cheek in your hand, eyes gleaming with interest and his heart beats a little faster now. He finds himself reciting Romeo's monologue in his head. O, that I were a glove upon that hand, that I might touch that cheek.

"So like, if the Mona Lisa disappeared, you would try to find it?"

"Yeah, that might be something we'd have to do," he smiles.

"Wow, that's so cool!" You smile as you take another drink. A moment of silence passes and you realize he's now alone when you know he came with someone. "Wait, where'd your friend go?"

"Ah, he ditched me. His wife was waiting for him at home." He chuckles and you're starting to enjoy the prominent smile lines in his cheeks and the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he grins, wrinkles that don't have as much to do with age and are just a reflection of the happy life he must have lived so far.

"Oh," you giggle and he finds himself just as mesmerized in your soft laugh and the expression your face makes when you do.

"And you?" You start off nervously, knowing your transition to this question is anything but graceful and you stare at your glass in embarrassment. "Your wife wouldn't mind you hanging out with me at a bar?"

"I'm not married," he replies softly and you feel the blood rush to your face and ears.

"That's what they all say," you look back at him and give him a teasing look. Before your mind can stop you, you reach to grab his left hand, looking for a ring. You can see his cheeks turn a light shade of pink, matching your own sentiments.

"Hey, you can check all you want, check my pockets for that matter," he flirts casually as he laughs, not pulling his hand away from your grasp. "I'm single."

You mouth an oh and smile as you place his hand back on his thigh, your fingers grazing the fabric of his pants as you pull away. Your head is whirling now with adrenaline and you decide to blame your boldness on the alcohol.

"Your husband wouldn't mind me buying you a drink, would he?" Marcus asks in the same tone as your initial question.

"No, he wouldn't," you tell him and his eyes dart to the side and back to you, confusion creeping on his face. "I'm divorced." You smile softly and try to push the thought of your ex husband out of your mind.

"Oh..." Marcus sighs in relief. "I've been there before," he shrugs at the thought of his other failed relationship. You frown slightly when you see his saddened expression, but before either of you can dwell on the mention of divorce, he speaks again.

"It's his loss," he smiles, now finding his own courage to flirt more openly.

You bite your lip nervously and his brown eyes stare into yours softly and full of kindness. Something about him gives you a gut feeling that he'll be different, that he'll treat you right should you continue pursuing a relationship with him, but the walls around your heart prevent you from looking too far into the future and you decide you're content with this moment you're in now.

"Hers too," you affirm. You both look away and take another sip of your drinks, the silence getting a little awkward as you struggle to find something to say.

"So, I've-" "Would you-"

"I'm sorr-" "You go ahe-"

You laugh together when you realize you both tried to start up a new conversation and both apologized at the same time.

"Please, you first," Marcus insists and you nod.

"I was just going to say that I've never seen you here before. What made you decide to come in?" You look at him with a puzzled look as you take another sip of your drink.

"Well, my friend — the one that ditched me —" he chuckles. "He suggested this place and said it was really good. I really just wanted to get a beer so I took his word for it."

"Ohh..." You say almost disappointingly and Marcus feels a pang in his chest as he senses he might have hurt your feelings just now. His words came out more truthfully than he meant, but it was too late to take them back. He scrambled in his mind, thinking of a quick apology.

"I was thinking maybe our Instagram page was starting to reach new people. I guess we should just stick to Facebook," you jest and Marcus feels the stress exit his body, glad you didn't take it the wrong way. Marcus chuckles, a slight relief hiding behind it.

"Well, I'll be sure to post some flyers up in the break room at the bureau. This place will be crawling with FBI agents before you know it."

"Maybe you should just keep it between you and your friend, we don't need the cop vibe in here. It's already bad enough with two of you," you joke and playfully nudge his elbow with yours.

"Hey!" He laughs and nudges you back. You both laugh until it fades into smiles and you turn to face him again.

"Where are you from, Marcus?"

"Originally I'm from Wisconsin, but I just moved here last year from Texas."

"Oh really? What part of Texas?"

"I lived and worked in Austin for a few years," he says as he swallows the last of his drink in one gulp, shoving the thought of his life in Texas to the furthest recess of his mind.

"Wow, I'm from Austin," you say excitedly and he looks into your eyes in shock. "My parents still live there. I moved out here last year too."

"What a coincidence," he smiles. Suddenly he doesn't hate Austin as much anymore. "I wonder if we ever passed each other and didn't know it."

"It's possible," you chuckle. You finish your drink as well and take a look at the watch on your left wrist. "Oh shoot, I need to get going," you frown genuinely. You truly don't want to end the conversation.

"Well, maybe I could get your number? And we can go out for coffee or something," Marcus asks and you hesitate as past words and insecurities flood into your mind. You want to say yes so badly, you want to get to know him and see where this goes, but your guarded heart stops you.

"Ask me again next Wednesday," you say as you stand from the stool. "Thanks for the drink."

You smile at him, taking in one last look of his features to hold you over and you leave his presence, walking back to the stage to grab your things. On your way to the front, you stop by a table where Celina is sitting and sipping lemonade, tapping her on the shoulder to let her know you're ready to leave.

Marcus sits there discombobulated. He watches you walk away and he wishes he could have left with your number, but he'll take all the time in the world, going at your pace, if it meant getting to know you. He smiles to himself as he stands up, grabbing his jacket and leaving the bar. He will definitely ask again next week.

Chapter Two

The Singer Masterlist

#marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike #marcus pike fanfiction #the mentalist #the mentalist fanfiction

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malereader-inserts · 4 years

Text

How Art Thee, Romeo?

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Derek Morgan x Male!Reader x Spencer Reid Summary: How are you Romeo? Well, now you’ve mentioned it - not good. Word Count: 1,042 Request: “hello! its been a minute, ive been stressed lately but im ready to resend my ask for a spencer × mreader × derek! since spencer is nicknamed pretty boy, could mreaders nickname be romeo? i want something like the two of them trying to calm/destress the reader since hes been acting really distant lately, and when they go to comfort him he just breaks down bc hes so exhausted,mentally and physically? something angsty w something fluffy? also keep up the great work with your series!” WARNING: EVER HEAVY TOPICS BRIEFLY MENTIONS SUCH AS SEXUAL ASSAULT, TRAFFICKING, MURDERS, KIDNAPPING

“How art thee, Romeo?”

It was a common phrase that’s thrown around the bullpen, at first it was teasing but at this point, you figured that it was genuine asking if you were okay without being too serious. You were the youngest of the group and overly protected, not that you minded. You can be serious, but it’s mostly you being neutral, and most often not you’re more chilled out and a little playful.

But, recently, there has been a change of your presence. That even your boss and your boyfriend has not approached you. Your relaxed vibes have turned into stressed wavelengths. Your peaceful and playful aura had swapped with grumpy and stern. It was weird to see you not crack a smile or jokes, lighthearted comments and such to keep the mood a little uplifted.

You have been distant from your boyfriends, you used to get lunch together or even join them on coffee breaks, but you don’t do that anymore. You come home late, usually stripping and getting into the shower. Derek no longer hears you blast music whilst you perform a concert in you shower. Spencer no longer get his half an hour cuddles in the morning from you because you’re usually in the shower and out the door before he wakes up.

You just became distant, even sometimes sleeping on the couch rather than the shared king bed in the bedroom. Missing lunch breaks, coffee breaks, even carpooling. It came to a point that you were missing dinner as you were staying late in the office.

Then, your days doing paperwork had changed as Morgan and Spencer started to notice that you would have a bag in your car constantly, they tried to rule out you were cheating because you were never the type to do so - you were too genuine and sweet.

“Didn’t you hear?” Garcia asked, reassuring the boy, “Our Romeo wouldn’t hurt you like that, I heard director Strauss put him on training rookies out on the field and getting their level fitness up for their test - he’s been on 100% as I heard Strauss was gonna have a word with him.”

Spencer and Derek tries to reach out to you, but you were dismissive, snappy and grumpy most of the time. Even JJ and Rossi has stated that you were unpleasant to be around.

“I doubt he’s getting a good night sleep,” The team, minus the boss, was gathered at Emily’s and Spencer’s desk as they look at the silhouette of yours and Strauss in her office, “Would explain his behaviour.”

“I don’t even know if he sleeps, he comes too late in the evening and gone too early in the morning,” Derek responded.

“Think about it, our sweet young agent being rude to his elders, he respects us as we respect him - it’s out of character for him. I mean I would probably be worst if I got his caseload.”

“What’s his caseload?” Spencer asked as JJ shrugs her shoulders as did Garcia.

“I heard they were homicides,” JJ replied.

“I heard they were robberies,” Garcia answered afterwards.

“Well, I took a sneak peek on one of his case files,” Emily hummed, “Child trafficking, sexual assault, even necrophilia. Seems like heavy cases.”

They see you exit the office, looking tired as hell, and it seem you were about to have a caffeine crash as you held a few files in your arms against your hip. Thick ones, but you tried to smile to a passing coworker as you rubbed your hand against your eye then through your hair.

It seemed, on your journey to your desk, you were stopped one after another colleague. Before giving up as you went to the elevator to go get lunch.

“I’m worried for (Y/n),” Hotch states out of nowhere, the group jumping at his voice, he took had sneaked behind the team and observed you, “I’ve warned Strauss not to put too much effort on him but she’s putting too much on him.”

Derek and Spencer looked at each other. You needed help and you had no energy to even call for help.

You were expecting the house to be quiet, really, it was eleven and your boyfriends try not stay up too late on a work night. So, you were momentarily surprised to see them awake, with a movie on. The moment you had clicked the door close. Derek had got up and came towards you.

You’d like to think your eyes widen in surprised at sudden movements towards you, but you really looked unphased. You were expecting yelling, you had replayed many things that your two boyfriends could say to you and you have come up with a thousand responses.

“Are you okay?”

It was something you haven’t heard for a while, and at the moment, you let your guard down as you just broke down. The aches from training rookies had taken you out as they started to deactivate as you crumpled, Derek catching you effortlessly. As Spencer comes along and hugging you from behind.

“Hey, why don’t I take some of your caseloads?” Spencer asked, running his hand through your hair, “I’m sure Derek will happily help you with training too. You know what he’s like, that athletic freak.”

“Hey!”

You managed to smile, even chuckle as Derek and Spencer hold you up, not letting you fall and crumble, a way to tell you that you will always be picked up by your boys if you ever fall behind.

“Come on, let’s get you something to eat and we’ll help out on the case whilst you eat. Then, we’ll run you a bath, and you are going to get nine hours sleep, you hear?”

You chuckled at Derek’s sternness, “Alright, alright.”

“So, for dinner, it’s Chinese because both Derek and I are terrible at cooking without your help and supervision, so hope you don’t mind.”

“Honestly, I haven’t had a takeaway for a while so, that’ll be great.”

Derek pulls you the kitchen island seat, as you allow Spencer to rummage through your bag and grab the first file case of the night as Derek prepares your food for the night. You smile to yourself, you’ll find yourself feeling better, Romeo.

#derek morgan #derek morgan imagine #derek morgan x male reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x male reader #x male reader #Criminal Minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x male reader

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penny44224 · 4 years

Text

I'm home

(It’s been a while I hope you like it😫)

Drinking your freshly brewed coffee as you sat in your office while observing the outside scenery from the window. It’s been exactly five years since you have been married to Chris or formally known as Bang Chan from Stray Kids. What started as a random encounter turned into blissful romance.

You both fought hard to keep your relationship going from the company, parents, and of course the fans. But successfully, everyone saw how much your love for one other is and eventually let it be. This is what you wanted right, to finally be with Chan without second-guessing yourself. So why are you unhappy. The public thinks you guys are living the happy married life together, but in private, you guys were struggling. To start it off, Bang Chan still works for JYP. Meaning, he lives in Seoul while he also lives in Australia which is where you live. You’ve been pushing about wanting to start a family with him ever since you guys got married but the long-distance is becoming a real issue.

You knew how much he loved his career and you support him fully without a doubt. But you couldn’t take it. Because to be honest, you were just lonely. It’s been 8 months since the last time you guys saw each other, felt each other, and kiss each other. You longed for him physically but you knew it wasn’t you say so. You accepted the long distance while you guys were dating but now being married, it was a different story.

Last night, you decided to call him up but that was a horrible idea. You just wanted to check up on him, but it escalated to an intense argument. The last thing you remember is him saying to you, “why the fuck am I still with you!” You never felt so broken that you barely got sleep last night.

Now you're in your office, trying your best to get through the day. On cue, that’s when your coworkers, Lia, Beth, and Maxine came in.

“Y/N did you not see my text messages I sent you!” said Lia

“Oh I’m sorry I haven’t been on my phone” you replied quietly

The girls were always used to your uplifting spirit but notice a sad tone in your voice

“Hey honey you ok?” Beth asked walked closer to you

That’s when finally last night’s emotion hit you. You started brawling in front of your friends while they immediately comfort you. You began to tell them everything that has happened.

“Oh my goodness, I never knew you were dealing with this sweetie,” Maxine says as she hugs you

“I don’t know what to do anymore, does he even love me or are we just staying together because of how hard we fought to be together, “ you say as more tears begin to fall down your cheek

“Don’t say that girl, you know he loves you melanin and all! You guys fought because of how much you love each other. That’s what matters” Maxine states

“But I can’t believe he said that to you, he knows I will literally go to Seoul to beat his ass up!” Lia replied which made you guys giggle

“Exactly go book a flight now and a hotel too” Beth added

“Oh guys stop,” you say now laughing as the tears start to dry

”You know what we can do to cheer you up!” Lia gasped

The girls looked at each other unsure

”THE CLUB” Lia yelled excitedly

”oh my goodness yasss, we can go to the one that just opened!” Beth added

” Uhh guys I'm not sure going to the club will help my problem,” y/n said

”Trust us y/n, the more you stress, the more you will become depressed. So let just let go for one night. ” Maxine says sweetly

You did want to forget about what happened last night so you agreed

”yayyy we gonna party!” Lia jumped up and down

”umm guys, is it ok if I invite Susie, you know she's new to town and I want to show her around,” Beth asked

”of course, she can come” you answered unaware of the butterfly effect you just created

After two hours of getting ready, you examined your self in the mirror. Your hair was up in a high ponytail, smokey face look, a strapless burgundy dress that hugged your curves and lace heels.

”Your gonna have a fun night,” you tell yourself as you hear beeping outside

As you guys were at the club, the girls literally on cloud nine. But you were still in your mood because of what Chan said. That's when Susie, the coworker came over to you

”Hey I heard what happened to you,” Susie said

”of course you did, Beth has a big mouth,” you said rubbing your forehead

”Heyy you need a drink, I'll go get one for you ” She winked and left before you can decline her suggestion

As Susie received your drink, she turned around (with her back facing you ) and dropped a small pill inside of it. When the pill dissolved she walked right toward you

”Here this will help you to let loose” Susie says as she hands you your drink

Your mind was screaming at you don't do it. But you just want to let go of all this hurt you were feeling.As you finished the drink, a rush of adrenaline took over your body in an instant.

After at least ten minutes, you were dancing on top of the bar table while the crowd cheers you on too. Your friends taking videos of you while hyping you up. That when you saw a man from across the room looking at you. The way he stared at you made you dance sexier. He began to smirk and lick his lips at you. Enjoying the effect you had on him, you got off the bar table.

”Girl what was that, you were killin it,” Lia said chapping her hands

” You said get loose so I'm doing exactly that. ” you said flipping your ponytail as you walk toward the mysterious man

As you walked toward him, he stands up from his seat. You got a good look at him, muscles trying their best out hold inside his button-up shirt, hair perfectly styled, and a smile that can light up the room.

”What's your name, handsome?” you asked

”B/W (your bias wrecker) ” he said with a smile

” mmm, you wanna dance,” you said stretch your arm out to him

He took it as you brought him to the center of the dance floor. You two began dancing for quite a while until the DJ started to play slow R&B aka sexual music. (B/W) held your waist and brought you closer to him. You felt everything as his body and your body closed the gap between you too. The feeling was addicting as you feel his lips shadow your neck and bulge on your thigh. You look up at him slowly to meet his eyes. Once both of your eyes met, all you saw was darkness and lust

As you open your eyes, you began stretching. But that's when you felt immediately nauseous, jumped out of bed, and sprinted to the bathroom. After throwing up for the fourth time. You tried reaching for the toilet paper where you usually put it but all you felt was a wall. That when your senses hit you, this wasn't your house.

As you look around your surroundings., you realized. This was a hotel! Maybe the girls and I crashed her because we were so drunk. So you washed up and left the bathroom. As you were walking toward the bedroom, you halt your action immediately. You looked on the floor and saw clothes. But not only yours, male clothes too. So many thoughts filled your head as it pounds. You finally reached the bed and saw him, (B/W) sleeping peacefully yet naked. That when you started to remember everything last night. You felt can not be described. Guilt layer 1 You quickly put on your clothes, grabbed your phone and bolted out of the building.

As you reached home you hopped into the shower. You began to break down letting all last night's mistakes and your latest fight with Chan flood the shower. You cheated on your husband replied over and over in your brain. As guilt flood the atmosphere. You felt extremely horrible but you knew you had to tell him. Guilt layer 2

As you got changed and decided to empty the trash, as you were organizing from the recyclables to the trash, you found a pregnancy box. That’s when you felt a cold chill rise. You forgot to check if you wore a condom, but you rushed out of the hotel room without asking the man. What you were about to do felt sick but you wanted to make sure

After waiting the exact time, you finally saw your results...you never wanted to jump out of a window so badly but you couldn’t since there was not another human inside you. You called up Maxine, telling her everything while balling your eyes out. Guilt layer part 3

” I'm a horrible wife, Maxine. I got so sad that I drank my feelings out because my husband said he doesn't know why he's with me. A-and I made an m-mistake and slept with (B/W) and now I'm giving pregnant. Pregnant from someone who isn't my husband! ” you cried out in pain while lying down in the floor

” y/n how did you even get this drunk in the first place?” Maxine asked

”Well Susie gave a drink, it tasted very fizzy for a drink. ” you said as you sniffed

”Oh my fucking gosh that bitch drugged you. I knew there was something wrong with her I just couldn't put my finger in it. One of my coworkers says they were there last night as saw her in the act but was too drunk to remember until this morning. I'm so sorry I should if stood by you” Maxine explain sadly

”So I'm a cheating worthless wife, who got pregnant over a one night stand because j was drugged by my co worker..” you say blankly analyzing how broken you felt. Your emotions are now numb, realizing everything was your fault. If you would have just said no all of these events would not have taken place. But the only person you can blame is yourself. Guilt layer 4

”y/n don't do anything stupid, we're coming over there right now,” Maxine says but you hung up the phone without giving her an answer

You got up from the floor and loom in the mirror. Your hair was a mess, your face, and a bit swelled from all the crying. You took a deep breath and try telling your self you will be ok. You grabbed the pregnancy test and walked out of the bathroom. Once you enter the living room, you halt your movements as your eyes couldn't believe what you were seeing.

Your one-night stand (B/W) standing with your purse that you probably left at the hotel in his hands while displaying shook expression. But that's not what you shocked about. It was because your husband was also standing in your shared living room with your favorite flowers in his hands looking at you with an expression you can't identify.

Both men are looking at you, while you looking at them thinking this was a dream. But somehow you were still missing something. Your eyes turned traveled to the living table where all you guys family photos we're placed. But there was one photo that stood out the most. It was a photo of your husband and (B/w) in a picture together, a high school picture together. Now all the puzzles pieces are now connected. B/w was chan childhood friend he has mentions you about but you never really met him until now well last night. As the final cherry on top, the guilt cake was completed of worse wife ever. It like Chan knew your realization, he heard everything you said from the bathroom since you were practically yelling and especially (B/W) too.

That when Chan began to speak

”I'm home”

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certifiedskywalker · 4 years

Text

Overrated - Poe Dameron

You had been feeling like another cog in the war machine, despite working for the Resistance. You didn’t have a problem with it until you heard about one pilot in particular that did his job with a disgusting amount of grace: Poe Dameron. Part of you wished he would just disappear until, one day, you find yourself closer to the enemy than ever before.

AN: This takes place before The Force Awakens!!!

Ever since you had joined the Resistance, when officers weren’t worrying about logistics or troubled by battle plans, all talk was about Poe Dameron. You knew that he was a pilot, a notable one to say the least, but had never seen him fly before. The station at which you worked had you busy analyzing encrypted data sent from agents scattered about the New Republic.

You worked odd hours and if you did get a break, you spent it recuperating. Whether that meant a nap in your quarters or a trip to the mess hall, you gave yourself your own time. However, that didn’t stop you from hearing the latest gossip. Life forms of varying shapes, sizes, and genders gushed about the talented captain. If you closed your eyes, it felt like you were back in the Academy, listening to awe-struck teens blubbering about the newest heartthrob.

It was always “Poe this and Poe that” and if you were honest to yourself, you had grown tired of hearing about the man’s latest escapades. You had never seen the pilot, let alone seen him in action. So all they said were just mere words to you.

Words that went in one ear and out the other as you sat in the mess hall, quietly eating. Letting out a sigh, the breath all too familiar as it passed over your lips, you pushed your plate away. You had better things to do than sit around listening to idle gossip. Just as you were turning to stand, a man in an orange jumpsuit plopped down in the seat beside you.

“Hi there,” he greeted, his warm brown eyes just as welcoming as his words. You had never seen this man before. If you had, you were sure you would have remembered. You stared at him a moment longer, taking in each feature. To the inky black curls, long nose, and soft dimples; each inch of his face imprinted in your memory. “Sarlacc got your tongue?”

“W-What?” You were so much as caught off guard by his teasing question, but by the charm of his voice. Not too gruff like the mechanics on the tarmac, but not as soft as the assistants you watched bustle behind monitors.

“Ya know, the creature in the pits on-”

“I know what a Sarlacc is,” you interrupted, trying to distract him so he wouldn’t notice the red blush on your cheeks. The man huffed, his eyes meeting yours.

“I’ve never seen you around,” you said, extending a hand to him before he began to eat. He smiled at the gesture, shaking your hand. His palm was soft, surprisingly. It was hard to find people in the Resistance who’s hands weren’t battered. “I’m Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said, offering you a wider smile before taking a bit of his rations. You watched him curiously, waiting for him to tell you his name. Seconds passed in silence and you decided to ask yourself.

“So what’s-”

“What’s your station?” He asked, wiping at his mouth with a napkin.

“Communications,” you said, “I’m trapped in the control room for most of the day.” He nodded, cocking his head to the side slightly as he did.

“You do good work in that department. Missions wouldn’t go as smoothly without people of your position.” You couldn’t help the scoff that escaped your throat. The man beside you furrowed his brows at the sound and blood flooded to your face once more. In an attempt to hide the heated skin once more, you spoke up.

“Sorry, I just feel like position and rank are all anyone talks about.” You met his gaze and saw, in his glimmering brown eyes, that all his attention was on you. “Like those people over there, they’ve been going on and on about Poe Dameron. That popular pilot.”

The man’s full lips quirked upwards into a smile, a sort of smugness that you weren’t entirely sure was necessary. The grin was charming nonetheless, as it sent the butterflies in your stomach into a rage. He shifted in his seat, turning his whole body towards you. It was as if he were suddenly so invested in the conversation that, maybe, you had caught his eye in some way others hadn’t.

“Really? Poe Dameron? Why?”

“Because he’s overrated,” you started, but the man’s eyes widened.

“Overrated? How so?” That grin still lingered on his lips, despite the evidence shock written all across his expression.

“Everyone chats about his skills, how he can shoot TIEs out of the sky like no other. They say he makes killing look like an art form, blasts of fire and splashes of smoke across the canvas of stars.” You lifted your hands in the air, painting the picture for the handsome man in a dramatic manner. He seemed to like it though because that smile remained.

“But isn’t he helping the cause? He’s risking his life for the Resistance.” You nodded at the mystery man’s statement, as it wasn’t wrong.

“He is, but with propaganda like that and the numbers that the Resistance gains….it feels as if he is glamorizing the effort. It’s not all hyperspace travels and close-calls. War is losing people, hard work, and even harder choices.” The man’s smile faded then, but you went on, “and even those TIEs he shoots down, there are people in them. Stormtroopers yes, but I don’t think that all of them really want to be with the First Order. Who would?”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he said, but you sensed that there was more. Normally, you would have hated something like this. Talking with a coworker on a causal level, but something about this man intrigued you and it wasn’t simply his good looks. There was a brain under that head of perfectly tousled curls. “However,” he continued, “the First Order is evil. We are trying to maintain what the old Rebellion accomplished. Casualties in war is….well...war. And our numbers grow because of him, that’s a good thing no matter what.”

“But his actions also push people to make a choice. The Resistance, who wish to keep the peace, don’t have the influence to gather people themselves. I hear through spy lines all the time about how the First Order shows footage of our X-Wings in action to scare locals. They are impressing people into their army because Poe Dameron can’t not dive into action!”

Your words seemed to strike a chord with the man, as his expression shifted. The confidence you had felt the man hold melted from a split second. Leaning forward, he seemed to be in deep thought. You were suddenly concerned you pushed your distaste too far.

“Sorry if I offen-”

“No, no, there’s no offense taken. It’s just interesting, hearing you talk.” You smiled at the man’s words, feeling a blush crawl beneath your skin.

“I’m glad I could entertain you,” you teased. A chuckle passed over his lips and you could’ve sworn that some divine being started to sing at the exact same time. You had never thought that a laugh could be so attractive, let alone that it could be attractive in the first place.

“I am too,” he said through the chuckle, a different type of grin on his lips now. Now, all too endearingly shy eyes gaze at you through his long lashes. “Maybe, if you’re not trapped in the communications room later, you could keep talking over dinner?”

You opened your mouth, but words seemed to fail you. Never before did you ever think that you’d be flirting with someone from the Resistance. Let alone someone this handsome who worked in the Resistance. By the Force, you didn’t even know his name! Oh, but you would. You needed to know now, and if not now, then when you went on the date.

“I would love-”

“Poe! Poe Dameron! General Organa has an urgent mission for you!” The shrill sound of an anxious male assistant cut you off. You frowned at the door that you could just see over the man’s shoulders. That frown turned sideways when you saw the assistant rushing over towards the area you were both sat in.

“Yeah, yeah, okay, give me a sec, will ya?” The man, the one you had been talking to, lamenting your dislike of a certain pilot to, said to the assistant.

“This is quite important, Captain Dameron. An information gathering flight to-”

“You can brief me on the way,” the man, Captain Dameron, said sharply. He turned his gaze back to you, an almost comically big grin on his face as he took in your expression. “If my eyes don’t deceive me, I do believe that, now, a Sarlacc has your tongue.”

“You’re….” you started, but you didn’t need to finish.

“Indeed I am,” he said, “Poe Dameron. Ya know, that ‘overrated’ pilot.”

“I didn’t mean-”

Poe smiled, raising his hands. “No, you have a point, and that’s why I want to hear the rest of what you have to say over dinner. Although,” he glanced over his shoulder at the weary assistant, “that date might have to wait for a bit. That okay with you?” The smile on his face oozed sincerity and you couldn’t help but smile too.

“More than okay,” you replied. Poe’s eyes almost seemed to glitter like stars as you spoke. He let out a nervous, breathy laugh and nodded.

“Good, good,” he stepped backward, “I’ll find you when I get back.”

“I’ll be right here,” you said, waving at the pilot as he started to follow the assistant as he walked away from you. You watched him all the way to the door where, much to your heart’s contentment, Poe sent you a wink over his shoulder. In that moment you knew you would see him again. After all, he was the amazing Poe Dameron.

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