in between | s.r.
pairing: post-prison!spencer reid x best friend!reader
summary: things are different, spencer's different. but how he feels about you is the one thing that has never changed. the only problem is now you have a boyfriend.
warnings: smut ! 18+ mdni!! lowkey cheating (lol), cursing, problematic reader, angst.
a/n: i am never beating the star has a cheating kink allegations!! I DO NOT I PROMISE... but yeah... this got away from me, i am touch starved and ovulating. reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses.. PLEASE SEND SPENCER REQUESTS!!!
wc: 5.9k
"I just can't come between 'em, they got their own thing
I wish he'd stop pretendin', he won't let his phone ring."
Spencer was different after he got out.
It wasn’t like you could expect any less. Much less would change you for the worse and you knew that, but something about the way Spencer sat slumped over in his desk doing paperwork made your heart sink. He wasn’t as chatty as he used to be, he didn’t have that glimmer in his eyes, and his voice sounded hollow when he spoke. Under his eyes were permanent dark circles and his lips seemed to form a scorn whenever anyone wasn’t looking. Or when he thought no one was looking.
You sat at your desk, pink mug in your hands as you watched him. Watched his eyebrows crease, and watched him flip through the file in his hand as he pressed a free hand to his temple, rubbing it in small circles. Spencer was on edge all the time and he looked like it. You could tell he made an effort with you to be kinder, gentler, but it always came out sounding rehearsed, his face betraying him like it always did. Spencer Reid, your best friend, was now a completely changed person and it killed you that you couldn’t stop it.
Pushing yourself from your desk chair you approached him, a small smile on your voice as you gently spoke, “Hey.”
He tensed for a second. He still wasn’t used to people sneaking up on him. He made a conscious effort to fix his face before turning to look up at you, his body relaxing upon seeing your face. Placing the file down on the desk, he leaned back in his chair returning your small smile as he spoke, “Hey,”
His voice was quiet as he spoke. He was tired and up close you could just see how much.
“You, um…” your voice trailed off making his eyebrows raise, “are you okay?” The question was stupid, you knew the answer but it never hurt to ask. Your fingernails gripped the mug handle as you swallowed down the nerves, “are you sleeping?”
Spencer thought of how to answer truthfully. If he was being honest, of course, he wasn’t okay, he hadn’t been okay for a while, but instead, he just gave you a slight nod, “Yeah, I’m fine.” His voice was a little raspy as he spoke, but he turned away from you and back to the file on his desk. He was lying and you both knew it, but you weren’t his therapist and he was not about to open that can of worms on a Thursday.
“Of course, yeah,” you awkwardly mumbled, “you know I’m still here, right? I’m still me, you know? You’re my best friend… and I, um, miss you.”
He turned back to you, his face visibly softening as you spoke. He knew you were there for him, you were the only person he would allow to be there for him. He just didn’t know how to open back up or ask for help. Instead, he nodded his head, “I know… and I miss you too.”
“Spence, I-” you spoke but were promptly cut off by none other than Luke Alvez placing a hand on the small of your back as he whispered to you, “We still on for tonight?”
It felt too intimate, too personal for Spencer to hear, but worst of all it made his stomach sink. He clenched his jaw tightly as he watched the interaction and took note of how you leaned into him. You were comfortable with him, comfortable enough that you should have told Spencer long before now.
“Yeah,” you whispered back as you smiled sheepishly at Luke, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.
“Great,” he smiled, removing his hand as he nodded slightly at Spencer before making his way over to his own desk.
“You guys are going out?” He asked, his tone his own one-off attempt to keep his tone neutral and controlled, but came out more strained than usual.
“Yeah,” you replied like you were ashamed of it, “it just kind of happened when you were… gone,” you rubbed at the back of your neck nervously, “I was just a mess without you and he was… well, he was there. There for me, I mean.”
Spencer kept his expression neutral, but he felt like a part of him was being taken from him, “So you’re dating now?”
“Kinda,” you squinted your eyes, trying to think of the perfect way to word it, “I mean, yes, like we haven’t labeled it but I think we’re exclusive. I don’t know we haven’t really talked too much about it.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me?” He said, his voice low and laced with bitterness. He had already felt like he missed out on so much and in a way became an outsider in a team he once called his family. But when it came to you, it struck a different chord.
“When would that come up, Spence?” you replied, giving half of a laugh to soften the blow, “I wasn’t going to tell you about who I was hooking up with while visiting you in prison. It just didn’t seem fair and then you came back and didn’t seem interested in what I had going on. I just didn’t think you cared to know that.”
“Not interested in what you had going on?” he repeated back, the words sour on his tongue, “You think I didn’t care to know? I was in prison, that didn’t mean I stopped caring about you.”
“I know that, Sp-” he cut you off.
“I was in prison, stuck in a cell, for months thinking I was never going to get out and you were… dating,” he didn’t know why he said it, it just kind of spilled out. Like all the bitterness and resentment he had been feeling had finally reached the surface and was spilling over.
“What was I supposed to do?” you whisper-yelled, “Stop my life forever because you weren’t here? It was hard for me, Spence, and god I missed you more than anything but I needed the pain to stop and he… he stopped it.”
“Pain? You were in pain? Well, I spent 270 days in a 6 by 8 prison cell. I was the one in pain! You don’t know what it was like!” He knew he was wrong, but it was like all of his anger, pain, and frustration was coming out and he didn’t know how to stop it. He knew it wasn’t a big deal. Logically, he knew that. But right now, all he wanted to do was get it out.
You took a step back suddenly, forcing reality to wash over him as your eyes got slightly glossy, guilt painted all over your face, “I’m sorry… I thought you would be happy for me… I thought…”
You turned your head from him slightly, avoiding his gaze as you shook your head, “Nevermind, I’ll um, I’ll see you around.”
Spencer watched as you stepped back and saw the hurt look on your face. The anger and irritation faded almost immediately and in its place was guilt and remorse. He had hurt the one person he never wanted to hurt. He reached out a hand to try and stop you from leaving.
"Wait... please don't go," He spoke in a softer and more vulnerable tone.
Your own expression softened at this, like he was a child reaching out for you, scared there were monsters under his bed. His hand linked onto your fingers gently. You could pull away if you wanted to, but didn’t, “What?”
Spencer held onto your hand gently as he stood up from his chair and took a few steps closer to you. He looked at you anxiously, knowing that he needed to explain himself. He didn't want you to leave, especially not like this.
"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to snap at you like that. I just... I feel left out. I felt forgotten," he explained, trying to keep his voice soft, but there was a hint of worry and jealousy in his tone.
"I know, I know, I mean I'm sorry," you replied, shaking your head, "you're my best friend, I should have told you."
Spencer sighed and gave your hand a gentle squeeze.
"No, I'm the one who should be sorry. I'm just... I'm on edge lately and I didn't mean to take it out on you. I shouldn't have acted like an ass to you."
He spoke in a sincere tone, his expression softening as he watched your face.
You let out a small giggle, taking your hand back from him but gently nudging his shoulder, "You've been through a lot. you deserve to be an ass sometimes," she teased.
Spencer let out a small breath of relief when he heard you laugh. It was like you were his again, and that part that had been missing found it’s way home. He managed a small smile at your words, feeling a little lighter.
"Maybe, but not to you. You're probably the only person who I shouldn't take my anger out on. I don't want to lose you."
"You won't," you replied almost too quickly, "you won't lose me, I promise."
"You promise?" he asked quietly, his tone filled with vulnerability.
You lifted your pinky finger for him to take with his, "Pinky promise."
Spencer's lips curved into a small smile as he saw your pinky offered to him. He looked at it for a moment before linking his own pinky with yours and giving them a small squeeze.
"Pinky promise."
You smiled up at him, the bright smile you reserved especially for him as you clicked your teeth, “Well, I gotta… get back to paperwork, Spence, but I’m glad you’re back.”
Spencer smiled faintly at your bright smile, that only you seemed to bring out in him these days. "Yeah, I should get back to work, too. But, um..." He paused for a moment, his expression growing more anxious as he spoke, “Tonight, with Alvez… do you think you could cancel?”
"Why? What's wrong?" you asked, a worried expression clouding your face as you lightly gripped his forearm. It used to be a comforting touch but right now it felt foreign.
"I just-" He let out a slow breath and paused before continuing, "I just want to spend time with you, alone. I feel like we haven't really had time to connect since I got out, and I miss you."
He wanted to feel guilty, he really did but a part of him couldn’t. He did want to spend time with you, but he also just didn’t want your time to be taken up by Luke.
“Oh, Spence,” you cooed, voice soft as you took your hand back, “of course I can cancel. My place or yours?”
Spencer's expression softened and relief washed over him at your words. He couldn't help but smile faintly as you agreed, feeling a weight lifted off his shoulders. He thought for a moment before replying, "Your place. I haven't been there in a while, and I need a change of scenery."
"My place it is," you smiled, "I'll go cancel with him right now,"
He watched as you walked over to Alvez and told him you were canceling, and then told him you were canceling for Spencer. Spencer couldn't hear the two of you but it looked like you were fighting. He was talking with his hands, rolling his eyes as you put up a defensive hand. It was clear he was upset and it ended with Alvez throwing down a file on his desk and storming away.
Spencer's expression grew a little more worried as he saw the interaction between you and Alvez. When he saw Alvez throw down the file on his desk and storm away, he felt a pang of guilt. He knew that you had canceled because of him, and it was causing problems between you and Alvez. He watched as Alvez walked away and he let out a slow, heavy sigh as he ran his fingers through his hair.
Later that night, you were in your living room, sprawled out on the couch watching tv as you heard the familiar knocks of Spencer on the door. Opening it up you gave him a bright smile, your PJs in full effect, "Good evening, Doctor," you smiled at him, taking a step to the side to let him in.
Spencer smiled faintly at the sight of you, dressed in your PJs. It was a comfortable and familiar sight to him, and it made him feel at ease. He chuckled softly at your greeting, "Good evening, SSA Y/L/N," he teased in return, his voice a little more relaxed than usual.
You giggled, letting him in, "On a last-name basis, huh?" you laughed again. "I say we watch Doctor Who Series Two, what do you think?"
Spencer chuckled as he walked inside and nodded in agreement. He closed the door behind him and made his way over to her couch, plopping himself down on one end, and resting his arm on the back of the couch. In a way, he hated how well you knew him. He hated how as long as he lived there would be one person in the world to know what he needed and that she would be putting on his favorite season of his favorite show and making it seem like it was her own idea. He hated that you existed and he couldn’t have you.
"Sounds perfect. Doctor Who marathon it is," he replied with a smile.
"Perfect," you smiled, plopping down on the other end, remote in hand as you moved to put on the show, Spence, who is your favorite companion," you asked absentmindedly as you flipped through the catalog.
Spencer chuckled at your question and thought for a moment before answering. He shifted around on the couch until he was facing you, his expression pondering.
"Hmm, that's a tough one," he started, his voice thoughtful as he considered the question, "I've always had a soft spot for Donna Noble. She was funny, and her chemistry with the Doctor was hilarious. But Ten and Rose... they'll always have a special place in my heart."
“Ten and Rose are..." you blushed to yourself, "They are endgame to me even though they clearly aren't endgame, but I don't care."
Spencer chuckled at your blushing as you spoke about Ten and Rose, and he nodded in agreement, "Right? They had such incredible chemistry. It's hard not to root for them. The way Ten always looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered. It was like he saw the universe in her eyes," he agreed, his expression growing fond as he spoke.
"Yeah," you smiled, your smile fading as you clicked on the first episode of series two. Spencer noticed your smile fade and he furrowed his eyebrows in concern. He leaned a little closer to you, watching your expression.
"Hey, you okay?"
He spoke quietly, his voice filled with a hint of worry.
“Yeah, it's fine. I just... don't like being in a fight with Luke. it's like why can’t we be more like... Ten and Rose..." you shook your head, "It's stupid, whatever.”
Spencer's expression softened as he listened to you, understanding your frustration. He gave you a reassuring smile and spoke in a gentle tone, "It's not stupid, you're allowed to feel that way. Comparing what you have to some fictional characters... it's natural to yearn for that kind of connection,” He paused for a moment, studying your face, before continuing, "Why do you think you and Alvez can't be like Ten and Rose?"
"I don't know," you shook your head, "it's like I can't do anything right. He's- and I shouldn't be telling you this, but when you were away we would get into so many fights over you. He'd be mad if I went to visit you, or if I was too upset about missing you and he just always kept insinuating that I was like in love with you or something,”
Spencer's expression faltered as you spoke. He could already sense Alvez was jealous of your close friendship, but to hear he had been trying to discourage you from visiting him while he was away... it angered him. But it was the implication that you may have feelings for him that made his heart skip a beat in his chest. But he pushed that feeling down for the moment, trying to focus on what you were saying, "He said you were in love with me?"
"Yea," you whispered, "but I told him it wasn't like that. That we were just friends but he didn't believe it. He still doesn't."
"Why doesn't he believe you?" He asked softly, his eyes studying your face.
"I dont know," you groaned, "I mean we don't have a conventional friendship, me and you, but it was like a piece of me was locked up with you in that prison. I just wasn’t me without you and he saw that and took it as me being in love with you," you replied, ignoring the implications of what that meant.
Spencer couldn't help the pang of guilt that went through him at your words. He knew that being locked up had affected you just as much as it had affected him. He understood that without him, you had felt like a part of you was missing, but it still broke his heart to hear it.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly, his voice tinged with guilt, "I never wanted to make things difficult for you... or put you in a position like that."
"You didn't, Spence," you sat up quickly, putting your hand over his that was situated in his lap, "You didn't do anything okay, my... partner or whatever he is should be able to trust me."
Spencer's expression softened at your touch, and his heart skipped a beat as you covered his hand with yours. He swallowed down the lump in his throat, feeling a wave of emotions wash over him. Your words made him feel a little better, but he couldn't shake off the guilt entirely, "I know, but..." He trailed off for a moment before continuing in a softer tone, "I just wish I could make things right for you, y'know?"
"Not your job," you smiled in a desperate attempt to comfort him, "I'd rather have you in my life than some man who didn't believe me anyway."
Spencer sighed, feeling a mixture of comfort and guilt at your words. He knew that it wasn't his job to fix things between you and Luke, but he hated seeing you hurt or upset. He gave your hand a small, affectionate squeeze as he spoke, "I'm always going to be in your life, no matter what. You're stuck with me."
"Oh, kill me now," you joked, voice soft as you leaned your head on his shoulder, "Eternity with you though?" you whispered, "Not the worst thing in the world."
Spencer chuckled softly at your joke, and he couldn't help but smile as you rested your head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you a little closer to him, "Eternity with me, huh?" He repeated, a hint of amusement in his voice, "You sure you could handle it?"
"You sure you could handle it?" you giggled, softly pushing him down on the couch causing him to topple over into the couch. If this was anyone else he would have pushed you back immediately, tell you to not push him like that, but it was you. And you could do whatever you wanted to him.
"Hey, hey, easy on the doctor!” Spencer protested jokingly as he fell backward into the couch. He looked up at you, a hint of playfulness in his eyes, as he sprawled out comfortably, "You're not getting rid of me that easy," he teased with a chuckle.
"Hey, hey, not easy on the doctor," you giggled again, leaning over on top of him, taking a pillow, and pretending to smother him as you climbed on top of him, straddling him.
Spencer's heart skipped a beat as you straddled him, and he couldn't help blushing slightly at the sudden closeness of your body on top of his. His breathing hitched a little, but he tried to keep his expression playful. He pretended to struggle against you as you leaned over him with the pillow, "Hey now, watch it!” he protested, though his voice was filled with amusement.
You giggled as she pressed the pillow further into his face, "'m putting you out of your misery Doctor,"
Spencer laughed even louder, feigning resistance as you pressed the pillow further into his face, "Mercy! Mercy! I surrender!" He jokingly spoke in a dramatic tone, his voice muffled by the pillow. He tried to pull the pillow away from his face to look up at you.
Pulling the pillow off of his face, you smiled down at him, the laugh slowly dying in your throat as you realized the compromised position, “Oh.”
Spencer was panting slightly from the fake struggle, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he looked up at you. His gaze met yours and he felt a wave of heat wash over him as he fully realized your position, with you straddling him on the couch, hips pressed slightly down into him. He couldn't help but take in the sight of you on top of him, his heart racing.
"I, um… didn't realize,” you spoke quickly, your own self out of breath, panting as you began to move to get off him, "I'm sorry, shit."
"No, no, wait., "Spencer's hand reached out quickly and gently grabbed your wrist as you tried to move off him. He swallowed, his heart racing a mile a minute. He couldn't deny the tension in the air or the way his body reacted to how close you were. This was straight out of a dream he knew he had, "Please... don't move," he whispered, his voice low.
Your breathing was heavy as you looked down at him, hair tousled and in your PJs, "Spence," you whispered, voice low.
Spencer looked up at you, feeling his body hum with desire as he took you in. Your tousled hair, the sight of you in your PJs, it was all so real and intimate. It was domestic in nature and it made his heart do a flip. He swallowed, his eyes flickering up to meet yours. At the sound of you whispering his name, his grip on your wrist tightened just a fraction, "Yeah?” He whispered back, his own voice thick and dry.
"Is that a gun in your pants or are you just happy to see me?" you joked, the tension still thick and palatable as it sat it the pit of your stomach.
Spencer's breath hitched at your joke, with the way he was reacting it was clear he hadn’t been touched in months. He let out a low, rumbling chuckle, the sound sending shivers down his spine. He shifted beneath you, your body still straddling him, and he could feel the weight of your body against him, the tension between you palpable, "Maybe it's both," he whispered, his voice low and thick with desire.
You breathed out, a shaky breath but still a breath, as you rocked your hips a little bit against him, desperate for friction, "I'm not a cheater," you whispered.
Spencer's breath caught in his throat as you rocked your hips against him, and it took everything in him not to buck his hips in response. He tried to control his breathing, his body reacting to your touch almost involuntarily. He swallowed, his voice a little rougher than usual as he replied, "I know you're not. You've never been," He placed his hands on your hips, holding you in place lightly, his thumbs slowly stroking the bare skin of your waist under your shirt.
Your skin burned where his hands met your hips. It made you want to do more. It made you want to continue, a soft sigh that sounded like a moan falling from your lips, swallowing quickly as you stared down at him.
Spencer's heart raced as you let out that small sigh, a mix of a moan, and he couldn't deny the effect it had on him. He could feel the heat building between you, the tension in the room almost tangible, "You're driving me crazy," he breathed out, his thumbs continuing to stroke your skin, his touch growing a little firmer, more possessive. His pupils were blown out, soft brown eyes looking up at you like it was you who held the universe in your hands.
"I'm not-" you shook your head, "not doing anything," you whispered, hips grinding down slowly as you took another deep breath in. Your brain was telling you to quit while you were ahead, but every bone in your body seemed physically incapable of stopping.
Spencer's breath hitched at the feel of your hips grinding down against him, and he involuntarily tightened his grip on your hips, his fingers digging into your soft skin. "Oh, you're doing plenty," he whispered back, his voice low and laced with barely suppressed need. "You have no idea what you're doing to me, do you?”
"No," you whispered, hands trailing up his chest as he held you, "explain it to me."
Spencer let out a ragged breath, trying to form coherent words, "You... you drive me crazy. You always have," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "The way you look at me, talk to me, touch me..." He paused, gathering himself, before continuing. "The way you're straddling me right now, your body pressed against mine, it's... it's like you were made for me."
You closed your eyes, grinding down harder involuntarily. It was okay to dry hump your best friend, right? That didn't count as cheating, right? Your mind tried to convince yourself this was okay, that you weren’t awful, but you were spurred on by his words, your panties dampening as he held you.
Spencer groaned as you ground down harder against him, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he opened them again, his gaze filled with undisguised desire, "This... we shouldn't," he managed to say, even as his hands continued to grip your hips, pulling you closer to him, his body responding without even thinking, "You're with Luke... we can't... we can't do this," his words were a whisper, but even he could hear the lack of conviction behind them.
You ground down again, in tandem with him, "You're- you're right," you panted, "maybe we should stop," your own eyes fluttered closed.
Spencer groaned again, his grip on your hips tightening even more, his body moving in time with yours, almost involuntarily. His heart was racing, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts as he tried to slow himself down, to think clearly, "Yeah, we... we should stop," he agreed, his voice a little hoarse, but his body betrayed his words, still rocking against you, needing the friction, the closeness.
"Oh god, fuck," you groaned, eyes fluttering closed as you rocked harder, faster, "Yeah... yeah... should stop," you repeated.
"Fuck..." Spencer couldn't help but curse under his breath, his hips bucking up to meet yours with each movement, his body on fire with need. He was losing his mind, his last shred of control slipping away as he felt the heat between you growing more and more intense, "We... we need to stop... now..." he managed to breathe out, his voice barely above a whisper, his hands holding onto your hips like a lifeline, almost desperately.
"Mhm," you moaned in agreement but never stopped your movements. Instead, you continued to rock against him, ignoring how the spaghetti strap of your pajamas had started to fall off your shoulder, "So stop," you whispered, not stopping.
Spencer's eyes were fixed on the spaghetti strap that was falling off your shoulder, his brain nearly short-circuiting at the sight. He groaned, the sound almost guttural, as he tried to steady his breathing. "I'm- I'm trying, I'm trying..." He was trying, he really was, but with your body moving against him like that, your hips rocking in just the right way, he couldn't help but move with you, his body responding on autopilot.
"How hard?" you whispered, a giggle falling from your lips that turned quickly into a strangled moan, as his hands pushed your hips down into him. Spencer's grip on your hips tightened even more, his fingers digging into your skin, as he pushed you down into him. His breathing was ragged now, his body trembling with need, as he felt you against him.
"So goddamn hard," he groaned, his voice strained, as he tried to hold back. "You have no idea how hard you’re making this for me."
"I can," you panted out, "I can feel it… How hard it is for you," you giggled, eyes fluttering shut again as you gripped his shoulder. It was all him at this point, he was pulling you down into him, his hips bucking up. The friction all felt too good, too real, and you weren’t stopping. There was no way you could.
Spencer was losing himself completely in the feeling of you against him, the sound of your voice, the way your touch burned through him. His head was spinning, his body on fire with need and desire. He pulled you down harder against him, his hips bucking up involuntarily, the friction between you sending sparks through his body. He could feel his cock twitch in his pants, as he pulled you down closer to him, "God... you feel so good," he groaned, his lips brushing against your collarbone, his breath hitched and shallow.
When his lips touched you, you gasped, a loud moan coming from your lips that sounded too much like his name. You wanted this and you wanted it desperately. It was almost pathetic how much you wanted this.
The sound of your moan, his name on your lips, it was like a punch to the gut. Spencer's grip on your hips involuntarily tightened, his body reacting almost violently to the sound, the need in your voice. "Say it again," he groaned, his lips moving against your skin, leaving a trail of hot, hungry kisses along your collarbone. "Say my name again."
"Fuck," you hissed back a moan, "Spencer," you practically chanted, hand gripping the arm of the couch behind him as you ground together, "Spencer," you chanted again, a lot less coherent as she bit back a moan.
Each time you said his name, it sounded like a prayer, and Spencer felt like he was losing his mind. His hips bucked up against yours as he heard it again and again, the sound sending shockwaves through his body. He buried his face in your neck, his breath coming in hot, ragged gasps as he fought to keep himself together, "God, say it again," he begged, his voice thick with need and hunger, "Please, say my name again, just like that."
"Spencer- ah, fuck," you cried out, whimpering pathetically as your body moved for you, "Spencer."
Spencer was drowning in you, in the sound of you saying his name. It was the only thing he could hear, the only thing he could focus on. He was coming undone under you, his body reacting involuntarily to your touch and your voice.
"That's it," he breathed against your skin, his lips on your neck, his body moving with yours. "Just like that, baby, just like that. Say my name, say it again."
"Spencer," you cried out as his movements picked up, as they became more aggressive. You just kept chanting it like it was the air you breathed, like it was the only word you knew. Spencer was wild with need, overwhelmed by the sound of his name falling from your lips, the feel of your body against his. He gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your skin, as he pulled you down into him, moving against you with a desperate, frenzied rhythm.
"You're killing me," he groaned, his voice thick with desire and frustration. "God, you're going to kill me."
He buried his face in your neck, his lips moving against your skin, his breath hot and labored. He was losing himself completely in the moment, driven by pure need and desire, "I can't- I can't stop," he panted between kisses, his voice ragged and strained. "I need you, I need you so bad."
"Fuck, Spencer," you cried out, body almost shaking on top of him. If this was wrong, why did it feel so good?
Spencer was lost in you, undone by your words, your sounds, your touch. Your body shaking on top of him, the sound of his name falling from your lips was like a drug, addictive and potent. He clutched you tighter, his grip almost bruising, as he moved against you frantically, desperately, chasing the release that was building inside him, "That's it, that's it," he panted, his own body trembling, "Don't stop, baby, don't stop."
He felt the orgasm building inside him, a wave of pleasure and heat rolling through him, his body shaking as he pulled you down into him again and again, "Oh god, I'm- I'm gonna-"
The words were lost in a strangled moan, his body arching up off the couch as he found his release, his grip on you still tight.
“Oh god, I’m,” you panted, crying out his name like a hymn, “I’m cumming,” you breathed out. It was all too good, like he was made for you just in this moment.
Spencer's heart felt like it was going to burst as he heard you call his name, the sound like a prayer as your body trembled on top of him, "Yes, yes, yes," he whispered hoarsely, his arms holding you tightly against him, his own body still shaking with aftershocks from his orgasm, "That's it, baby, let go, let go for me."
Your body stopped moving, collapsing on top of him as you came undone, holding onto him like he might float away. He caught you against him as you collapsed on top of him, his body still throbbing with the aftershocks. He held you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you, his breathing ragged and labored. He nuzzled his face into your hair, his lips brushing against your skin, as he tried to slow his racing heart.
"That was... incredible," he panted, his voice still hoarse.
"That was..." your voice trailed off as you sat up quickly, realizing you were still clothed as she stood up and off the couch pathetically, "that was cheating, oh god."
Your sudden movement jerked Spencer out of his blissful state, and he looked up at you with wide eyes, his mind still fuzzy from the overwhelming pleasure, "Whoa, whoa, hey, calm down."
He sat up, his heart still racing as he reached for your hand, trying to steady you, "It's okay, it's okay, we're okay."
“No it’s not,” you whispered, pulling your hand back from him as he reached for you. It made his chest sting, but all he did was blink, “I think you should leave,”
“What?”
“You should go, Spence,” you reiterated, eyes looking down at your feet, too embarrassed to meet his gaze.
“If that’s what you want me to do,” he spoke. His voice almost sounded broken and you didn’t like the feeling of being the one who caused it.
“It is,” you replied quickly, arms folded across your chest. You turned away from him completely, ignoring the sound of the door slamming closed as he stepped outside.
1K notes
·
View notes
supermassive blackhole ☆ jay park pt. 1
☆ non-idol! spiderman! jay x fem!reader
☆ summary: You and Jay Park couldn't stand each other. But after a drunk makeout session at your university's annual soccer mixer, combined with Jay's secret identity as the city's friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, the two of you are pushed closer to each other than ever, challenging your long-time status as 'enemies.'
☆genre: enemies to lovers, suggestive but no nsfw/smut, angst, fluff, spiderman! au, college! au, so incredibly american HELP, reader has glasses bc it's cute and jay has a lip piercing bc i said so
☆ warning(s) ? many mentions and instances of alcohol (all characters are of age) , this is very suggestive but there is no smut
☆ word count: 13.7k
☆ a/n: my dumbass didn't factor in character block limit when i wrote this shit so i'm gonna split this fic up into two parts... sorry guys :( lmk if you want me to tag you in part 2, also this has a diff style so lmk how we feel abt it 😇
part 2
“Oh, thank you so much, Spider-Man!”
It was a warm spring evening, and Spider-Man had been on his evening city patrol. When he found a little old lady calling for help, who was he to refuse her? Her cat had been stuck in a tree, and she needed someone to help her. Hopping up on the tree, he safely retrieved the ball of fluff.
“Of course, Ma’am,” the superhero chuckled. If only she could see him through his mask, he would be grinning. “Get home safely.”
Watching the little lady’s retreating back, Spider-Man shot a web to the top of a building, and hoisted himself up into the air.
On late-spring nights like this, it was peaceful. He liked the breeze that hit his masked face as he swung from building to building. Around this time, rush hour would be beginning, and all the university students would be getting out. Speaking of…
Peeking over a billboard, Spider-Man peered down to the university campus. His own university campus.
There was no reason in particular for this, but he liked to watch the university around evening time. Most people were beginning their commute home or to the dorms, but campus crime was not rare at all. It could be small offenses like graffiti or theft, but he would prefer those types of things to just not exist at all at a place like the university. And, he just liked to check up on his friends or people he knew, to make sure they were getting home safely.
His eyes narrowed at a familiar figure that made its way across campus. Even from a tall building, he could recognize that head. His jaw clenched, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip before shooting another web and slinging away.
By the time it was fully dark out, Spider-Man had finished his night patrol.
Sitting on the roof of his apartment complex, he didn’t quite want to go in yet. He liked freedom: the physical freedom yielded from spider-like abilities– practically flying through the air– and the social freedom of anonymity. Leaning back on his palms, Spider-Man took a deep breath.
The clouds were beginning to clear up because of the weather, so the moon and stars were extra visible tonight. Clothed fingers creeped up to his neck, carefully pulling up the red mask that covered his face.
He was lucky that no one else casually sat on top of apartment complexes, or else his identity would be revealed.
Jay Park.
The moonlight glimmered on his honey-gold tan skin. The night breeze was cool, kissing his hot cheeks. He ran a hand through his tousled coal-ebony hair, letting his sweaty forehead that had been covered for hours air out.
Truth be told, he was a tad exhausted. It’s not common for the safety of a city to lie on the shoulders of a struggling university student like himself. Throwing his head back and letting dark locks fall over his eyebrows, he let out a huff.
Shit, there’s a party tomorrow.
Everyone liked to boast about the idea of soulmates.
The idea that fate existed as the binding force that drew lovers of all disparate backgrounds together was prolific, pervading in all parts of history. From severed limbs that shared the same primordial origin, to congenital tattoos containing initials, to even timers that counted down every second until meeting, the concept of soulmates has been longed for, craved for, lusted for- for centuries.
Unfortunately, for you, the notion that everyone had an innate and pre-destined lover was a tad ridiculous.
There was no way that you could believe in soulmates.
“Why the fuck are you here?”
But you did believe in natural enemies.
“I can ask you the same thing, Park.”
Tonight was the soccer team mixer, an end-of-the-year party that the university’s team hosted to celebrate yet another exciting school year. Courtesy of your friends, you and your thick-ass glasses ended up attending.
Tonight was supposed to be a nice night. It really was. Junior year of university was a stressful one, and you were more than ready to party all your worries away: you figured that you earned it.
Much to your misfortune, though, there was someone else that decided to attend: the most insufferable, loud, and obnoxious person to ever exist, Jay Park.
There were several reasons to despise him and his funky, tousled hair. He was loud, rowdy, fiery, rambunctious, unruly, uncouth, uncivilized, hot-headed, talked way too much, had no sense of volume, and in your very personal opinion, just sucked. And, apparently, he was a total freak. He would show up to parties and socials, cause a ruckus with his presence, and then randomly disappear. He stood weirdly, and his mannerisms were just strange.
If you could go back and change history, you would have never allowed yourself to even meet such a person. Unfortunately, you two had intersecting friend groups and many mutual friends; there was no avoiding him given your social circles.
It started back in freshman year of highschool. The two of you were sat next to each other on the first day of fourth period English Honors. Your teacher must have seen something that you didn’t, because it was almost impossible for you to even talk to each other. Jay, the pubescent boy he was, would crack a few jokes. You, though, would stare at him vacantly, as if you were expecting him to add on.
“Can you stop talking?” you asked him once. “Your jokes aren’t funny.”
You had meant it in a helpful way.
“If you want to make it funnier, maybe have a set-up and punchline? Your jokes don’t land.”
Really.
You were genuinely trying to be helpful.
The only issue was that, like everyone else in the world, Jay didn’t take that well.
From then until the second quarter, you and Jay would only talk to each other if specifically asked to. You would turn around to the girl that sat behind you, and Jay would talk to the guy that sat diagonally in front of him. And when you guys did speak Jay would be unnecessarily dry, and in response, you would get irritated and snap at him.
When you finally moved seats next quarter, you still managed to see each other around. Too much. Your only interactions were limited to a few judgy glances, and occasionally, glares.
During the fourth quarter, Jay made an attempt to mend your relationship when you guys were placed adjacent to each other again.
Except, now it was your turn to be offended.
“Hey, I know I was a dick and you were a bitch, but-”
“I was a bitch?”
You’d kick his chair in class, and when the two of you were inevitably forced to talk, it’d be short and curt.
Truly, it was the summer of freshman year that really catapulted your relationship into what it was today.
When you hung out with your friends over the summer, Jay was always (and truly, always) there.
Initially, it was awkward.
But when you learned that Jay liked the same band as you– Muse– you thought that you could finally put your terse relationship to an end.
“You listen to Muse?” You had tapped his shoulder one day at the beach. He was hunched over, listening to his music with earphones jammed into his ears peacefully. He looked bemused, cocking a brow at you.
It must have been the way that you said it. Poor, slightly socially-inept you, who, up until that point, couldn’t control your tone of voice. It was no surprise that Jay thought you were making fun of him.
Brusquely standing up, he snatched his earbuds up to go somewhere [Name]-free, grumbling something under his breath.
From then on, you two rarely got along.
“Something about his face pisses me off.”
“I don’t like how she says things.”
“He makes me so angry for some reason.”
“She’s a total nerdo freak.”
“I need to fight him.”
“I need to fight her.”
For the first two years of high school, there was non-stop bickering. Not necessarily malicious in intent, but it was clear that neither of you liked each other.
The closest thing to a “friendship” that the two of you formed was during the second semester of sophomore year, when your friend started liking his friend, and vice versa.
Both of you were getting tired of seeing your friends so cluelessly in love with each other, so you and Jay joined forces to push them together. Secret in-class texting, after-school discussions, shared knowing looks, and when they finally got together on the last day of school, a perfectly-timed fist-bump. As much as you’d hate to admit it, you and Jay Park made a wonderful team.
After that, you were just on your way to becoming great friends. Obviously, not as close as other friends, but it was undoubted that you had incredible potential to become very good friends.
Until one midsummer night.
“You knew that Taehyun Kang was cheating on Isa– with the girl that he swore up and down she shouldn't worry about– and said nothing?”
It was a difficult night. Especially when you had to console a weeping friend on one call and yell at Jay Park on the other.
“He’s my best friend, too,” was all Jay had said.
“And?” You had been incredulous. “Taehyun’s been making googly-eyes at that girl since way before he got with Isa! You knew. You’ve known this entire time and you still-”
“I didn’t know.”
You remembered the anger that began to bubble inside of you. You had spent the past few weeks trying to fix your aggression issues, because it was Jay that told you about your first interaction that got you guys off on the wrong foot. But now, you really couldn’t suppress it.
“Yes you fucking did!” you yelled over the phone. “I know you did. Don’t try to pull this shit on me, Jay.”
He didn’t respond.
“You’ve known this entire time, and you didn’t say anything.”
He had huffed over the phone, grumbling something incoherent. “I didn’t know until a few days before school ended.”
“A few days before school ended?--” You had sunken your teeth into your bottom lip, for the anger that was just beginning to heat up was now rising to a boil– “That was a few days before they got together! You had time to say something– but you didn’t.”
“What did you want me to do?” Jay was now getting angry. “You wanted me to speak up and ruin everything?”
“You could have. You should have. But you didn’t.”
“It’s not my responsibility, [Name]. It’s not your or my responsibility.”
The boiling anger was now seething. “Yes, it fucking was!”
“No, it wasn-”
If Jay could have seen your face over the phone, it would have been twisted with both disbelief and indignation.
“When you and I teamed up to get Taehyun and Isa together,” you asserted through clenched teeth, “there were some things we took responsibility for. And when they got together, we had the responsibility to be good friends. Good fucking people, Park! You–”
You had to take a few moments to breathe. “You had the power– You had the knowledge that your best friend was a cheating bastard that would– You know what? You’re just like him. You could’ve been a normal fucking person and did things the right way, but you lack responsibility and basic intelligence to do so.”
Through the course of that messy break-up, a few more screaming matches between you and Jay came about. Really, it should have been an argument for your friends to have, but you and Jay had had enough of each other. The floodgate that had held your relationship finally broke.
For the rest of your high school years, every interaction would just be blows at each other. It started as subtle, harmless jabs. But over time, those jabs became hostile. Petty actions, like light shoves or stealing pens, evolved into spiteful and calculated attacks, such as purposefully tripping the other or intentionally cutting the other out of a group photo.
Eventually, your friends made up and the break-up rift was resolved, but not you and Jay’s rocky relationship.
The horror you and Jay must have felt when you found out you were going to the same university.
At the present, pushing up the metal-framed glasses that delicately laid on your nose, you could feel Jay’s dark eyes boring into you. Giving him a once-over, your nose scrunched. Once again, you’re reminded of why you could not stand this guy.
Tonight was a soccer mixer. A college mixer. Looking around, everyone was dressed as if they were college students at a college party. Because that’s what they were.
Girls, including yourself, wore small dresses and short skirts with plunging necklines and fat, wedged heels. They did their hair in all kinds of elaborate styles– you tied your hair into a half-down-half-up style. The guys wore ripped jeans, form-fitting button-ups, leather jackets, and if you were a soccer player, the iconic soccer team jacket- but really anything that was casual and easy to move in.
Jay Park, on the other hand, swore a deep-green hoodie with ripped jeans, like the uncultured villain he was.
Okay, maybe you were being biased.
A few of your friends did come in wearing hoodies and ripped jeans, and you did, in fact, come through the door of this frat house with an oversized hoodie draped over your shoulders. But, the difference was that this was Jay Park. Everything that he did was uncultured and barbaric.
“I don’t know why you’re so surprised,” you remarked, glaring up at him through your lashes. You were on your way to grab a few drinks for your friends in the kitchen when you bumped into none other than Jay Park. “You hang around Jake Sim, I hang around Jake Sim. Use your critical thinking.”
Jake Sim was a mutual friend between you and Jay, who just so happened to be on the university’s soccer team. Great guy, but the only thing that you would complain about was the fact that every time you hung out with him, you would inevitably meet Jay.
Jay scoffed. “Didn’t think a prude like you would actually show up to a party like this.”
“Prude?” Of all times to be calling you prude, it really shouldn’t be now, when you were wearing possibly the shortest and tightest dress with the most risque neckline that you’ve ever worn in your entire life. Those thin spaghetti straps were not doing you any justice. And especially because you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes would linger around your silhouette. “Who’s the one who hasn’t been laid in months? Who’s the one with the worst box-dyed hair on the entire campus? Who’s the one that lacks any social awareness and says the most uncomfortable shit in a voice at 260 fucking decibels? Who randomly disappears? Who moves around like a goddamn insect?”
“That’s not even fucking true!” The man waved his hands in front of himself defensively. “God, you’re so fucking annoying.”
“I’m annoying? You’re the creep that follows me around everywhere.”
“You said it yourself! We have a mutual friend so we always end up-”
“Yeah, but I get the feeling that we end up in the same places because you choose to follow me-”
“I can assure you that no one wants to follow your nerdo freak ass-”
“Oh wow! How creative. You’ve been calling me that since we were fourteen–”
“Because that’s what you are! A nerdo freak that can’t do shit–”
“Why are you even here? You always have that job that you leave to-”
“Hey, hey, hey, party people!” a new voice interjected.
Jake Sim, your mutual friend, with sleek sunglasses resting on his nose and a beer in his hand, suddenly appeared between your arguing bodies, throwing an arm around each of you.
“Jakey!” you exclaimed.
“‘Sup.” Jake was a suave guy, not a wonder that so many people liked him. “What were the two of you talking about? Looked like you were having fun!”
Jay cringed, his lips curling. Of all words, ‘fun’ would be the furthest from a good descriptor of your interaction. You seemed to think the same.
“Nothing,” you said through clenched teeth and brief glare to the ebony-haired man.
Jake frowned. “Awww, don’t tell me you guys were fighting again!”
You and Jay locked eyes.
‘Don’t you fucking dare,' his eyes said.
‘Wasn’t going to,’ yours replied.
Jake Sim was a sociable guy. Unfortunately, it made him a little obsessed with making everyone get along. So when he found out that you and Jay deeply disliked each other in junior year of high school, he made it his life’s mission to make you get along.
Didn’t work. It really only made you hate each other more.
“We weren’t,” Jay affirmed, swiping a tongue over his pierced bottom lip.
When Jake cocked a brow, you added, “Yeah, we weren’t.”
When Jake left you two alone again, there was a thick silence that fell over you (as silent as a rowdy college party could get). You took your drink, and turned to leave.
“Go fuck yourself, by the way,” you spat.
There’s many issues with college parties. A few hundred bodies of sweaty late-teen-early-twenty-somethings all squished together in a single frat house with alcohol and drugs was just a recipe for disaster. Alas, that was simply the college way.
To Jay Park, other than the fact that there was, ahem, usually the presence of people that he didn’t like at college parties, there was the fact alcohol was practically everywhere. No matter how many times he could vow to not drink on one particular night, he always ended up slightly buzzed or full-out drunk.
Like right now.
It was late into the night, but the party hadn’t died down even a little bit. His friends pulled him onto the dance floor. Normally, he would scurry off, probably scared that he might lose control of his spider abilities, but with the booming techno music, blinding LED lights, and alcohol that had happily found its way into his system, Jay’s mind was completely hazy. He could barely feel his own feet below him.
The next thing he knew, there was a body up against him. Definitely smaller than him, but plush and soft, moving fluidly to the music. His mind was completely fuzzy, but Jay could smell a familiar scent. Sweet and almost citrusy, like a summer orange. His arm slithered around the person’s waist, pulling them closer to his own body. His fingers found themselves snaking toward the person’s hip. His larger hands gave it squeeze, earning him a barely-audible squeal.
If only he knew that the person was you.
Maybe it was the alcohol getting to him, but he felt a shock of fervor and excitement rake through his body.
Bodies moving closely together, he could feel a ghost of your warmth where there was clothes; where clothing was, he could only feel a touch of warmth.
Jay could feel everything, thanks to his heightened spidey senses and the alcohol. Every motion of your body against his, every breath you took. Which is why even when intoxicated, he could clearly hear the song change from techno to punk rock– Muscle Museum by that one band he’s liked since freshman year of highschool. Muse, was it?
“Fuck, I love this song,” he heard you mutter in your own tipsy state.
Jay was sure you couldn’t hear him, but he slurred back, “Me too.”
His hands explored.
A bare thigh, soft and creamy. An exposed neck, an unclad arm, an ample uncovered chest. Something metal on your face– a piercing? glasses? You must have been wearing jewelry, because he could feel cold metal hanging from your neck and splaying across your chest.
(The amount of practice it took for him to be able to ensure no sticky webs came out of his palms was out of this world. Sober Jay would have been a little more careful, but it was a good thing that he practiced so much.)
When his hand gave your waist another squeeze, something must have clicked in your mind, because you slid your arms around his neck, turning your body to press your chests together. Pedicured fingers ran across his chest through the fabric of his hoodie, ending up at his shoulders. Another jolt of warmth and electricity coursed through his veins.
Jay’s head was way too blurred to really take a look at you in front of him, but again, that familiar scent filled his senses.
When the lights dimmed and music slowed, you rested your head on his shoulder. He could feel your breath fanning against his neck, lip brushing against his skin. Your lips were half-moist; it must have been gloss that made it sticky, but there was a hint of dryness that he could tell was from being swollen– you were biting your lip so much it was becoming swollen. A warm chill rushed down his spine.
How drunk was he at this point? He didn’t care, because the next thing he knew, he was pushed up against a wall in a dark hallway.
“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he muttered under his breath, as you shoved your pedicured hands up his hoodie and played with the belt loops of his ripped jeans. Throwing his head back against the wall, he heard you giggle, before you ghosted your hand over his lower abdomen, effectively sending waves of warmth down his body. He sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, flinching. He cursed his spidey senses for making him so sensitive to touch. “Don’t fucking do that- don’t tease me.”
He heard another giggle, before he felt a few nimble fingers grasping his chin gently, pulling his face down for a better reach.
It was a soft, but crazily attractive, voice that whined in his ear, “But you’re so cute like this.”
And then you continued, slipping your hand up and down his bare abdomen, occasionally stopping near his collarbone to tug on the metal necklace that laid so delicately. Meanwhile, you pressed open-mouth kisses on his neck, eliciting the softest sighs of satisfaction.
Truth be told, Jay had no idea that it was you who was all pressed up against him, but for some reason, the fact that he didn’t know turned him on even more.
The wet kisses, which he was sure left sparkly pink traces of lip gloss, littered all over his skin, trailing from the part where his jaw and ear met, to his collarbones, to his Adam’s apple, and finally, to his chin.
With a squeeze to his bicep, you gently cupped his cheek, pulling him closer. With an experimental hand, you swiped your thumb over his bottom lip, pressing onto the cold metal piercing that adorned his lip.
It was a dark hallway, but it was now that Jay noticed the light that reflected off of your glasses’ lens. When he tried to look for your eyes, he was only met with the sleek shine that reflected off your glasses.
“Let me kiss you,” you purred into his ear as you ran your thumb over his lips. It was now that he could smell the tequila from your breath. “Please?”
Jay, all in his equally-drunken glory, threw his head back again against the wall, making a thud sound. “Fuuuuck,” he cursed under his breath. “Yeah. You’re hot.”
You giggled. You gave his lip piercing one more tap of the finger before entangling your hands in his dark hair, giving it a soft tug. It was a good thing that he was pushed so close against a wall, because Jay swore his knees were going to give out.
“Thank you, baby.”
You gave his hair another tug, staring straight into his eyes. The half-panicked expression that spread across his face made you crack a small grin of satisfaction, and Jay felt embarrassed under your gaze. Gently holding his face, you pressed soft butterfly kisses along his jawline before you ended up at his chin. You pulled him closer so that your chests were pushed all the way against each other, the majority of your weight on him against the wall.
Jay swiped a tongue over his lip, sucking in a sharp and shallow breath. His chest rose and fell, swallowing so hard in anticipation that his Adam’s apple bobbed. You brushed your nails along his bicep before clasping hands with him; in a swift movement, you pinned his hands flat on the wall next to his head.
The gap between your faces was closing. You were only a few inches apart at this point. Hot breaths and glassy eyes.
Hands still pinned against the wall, Jay could not tear his eyes away from that glossy sheen on your glasses. He wanted so badly to see your eyes, lock onto them. Usually, the inability to see someone’s eyes would make a kiss less appealing, but for some reason, it only made things more intimate for him. Combined with the darkness and intoxicated state, the anonymity was a turn-on.
Almost as if to tease him, you peppered soft kisses along his chin and around his lips. Freeing his hand from your grip, Jay snuck it around your waist, pressing you all the way up against him. He could feel every curve and divot of your body now; with the softness and plush skin, he wanted to explore it once again with his touch. His big hand traveled down your waist to your hips, caressed your ass, and ended up on the backside of your thigh. He freed his other hand to do the same, resulting in two hands on your thighs.
Jay parted his lips, peering down at you through lidded eyes. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest.
The music had faded in the background, but his heart pounded to the beat of the slow R&B.
Ba-dum, ba-dum.
So close. You were so close.
Ba-dum, ba-dum.
Sliding his hands up your back to your shoulders, Jay gave it a squeeze. In a swift movement, he flipped your positions around, pushing you gently against the wall and placing a flat palm above you head.
Ba-dum, ba-dum.
You giggled, grappling for his hair once again.
Again, he could smell that sweet, citrusy scent.
Ba-dum, ba-dum.
Jay leaned in.
There was a sort of tenderness—intimacy— that he suddenly craved for. Closing that gap, having skin on skin, lip to lip, he needed it.
Ba-dum, ba-dum.
If he just got a little closer… a few more centimeters, and your lips would-
Beep beep!
What-
Beep beep!
Bewildered, Jay flinched back.
It was his watch, which lit up the dark hallway.
You held his bicep, trying to pull him back in. He resisted.
Beep beep! Time to go! his watch went on.
“Baby,” you breathed. “Is everything okay?”
Jay bit his tongue. As sensible as an intoxicated person can be, his eyes narrowed at his glowing wristwatch.
Fuck.
“I-I have to go.” Jay pushed off the wall, turning toward the hallway entrance. He was feeling dizzy.
“What? But-”
He eyed his watch, which was now glowing a red color.
“Shit, shit-” He turned over his shoulder, slurring out, “I’m so sorry.”
He couldn’t see your face but he could feel disappointed and confused eyes boring into his back.
On his way out of the frat house, Jay took a bottle of water and chugged it, sobering up (though still feeling shitfaced and nasty). He rushed out of the house, and the moment he stepped out onto the pavement, his phone rang.
“What happened this time, Jungwon?” he grumbled into his phone, still catching his breath. His hand came up to touch his neck. Even out here and sobered up, he could still feel the sticky kisses pressed against his skin, setting his cheeks aflame against the cold night air.
On the other side of the phone, a childish voice spoke. “Doctor Discotheque!”
“What?”
He heard a huff. “Doctor Discotheque! Remember? That villain guy! He’s here!”
Jay scoffed. “Where’s ‘here’?”
“At home, you dummy!”
Sometimes, Jay wondered why he employed his eight-year-old kid brother, Jungwon, or Wonnie, to help him with his Spider-Man endeavors. Given the fact that the kid was literally eight years old, it might have been a little pathetic to enlist the help of someone who couldn’t even do basic math. But honestly, Wonnie was the best he had– the kid was terribly excited to find out that his big brother was a superhero and he promised not to tell anyone only if Jay 1) told him everything that happened (correction: everything cool that happened, the kid didn’t want to hear about helping old people use the subway) and 2) let him be intel. There wasn’t much a grade-schooler could do to be a valuable informant (what was Jay going to let him do, run around the street at night?), but he sure did have a lot of time on his hands.
“Okay, okay,” Jay rubbed the scar on his nose. “Where at home? Like, in the complex? Outside?”
“Two floors below us.”
“What.”
Just as Jay was outside the general vicinity of mixer-goers, he heard a slew of heavy footsteps and then suddenly felt two arms wrap around his torso.
“What the-”
A very, very, very familiar voice began sobbing into his back. “Why’d you leeeavvvvveee?”
You.
You tightened your hold on him, burying your face in his hoodie-clad back. “Whyyyyyyyyyy?” you drawled.
“The fuck-?” Jay, cringing into his skin, tried to pull away. However, his nose picked up a scent that he was more than mortified to recognize. It was sweet and citrusy. And when his eyes caught the outline of your metal-framed glasses and the illumination that was strewn across the lens, all hell broke loose.
“Jay?” Wonnie’s voice called over the line. “Jay! Spider-Man! Is everything okay?”
“Hold on-” Jay replied. “Fuck, just give me a second.”
You, [Name] [Last Name], possibly one of the most insufferable people ever, was the one that he was all over just five minutes ago. You were the one that had him pressed up against the wall. You were the one that was touching and kissing him all over. You were the one that sent chills down his spine. You were the one that he was minutes away from taking into a spare bedroom and-
He sucked in a sharp breath. Not the time to think about that.
Now that he had soaked in the fresh air outside the frat house, the smell of alcohol was strong on your person. It consoled him that everything happened because both of you were drunk, at least.
“[N-Name],” he muttered. “[Name], let go.”
You were fuckfaced drunk, holding and clinging onto him like your life depended on it and wailing. Jay never thought that he’d find a day where you would be like this to him.
“I want youuuuu,” you slurred. “Come baaaaack insiiiideeee.”
“Jesus Christ, you college kids,” Wonnie clicked his tongue on the other side of the line. “Get a room.”
“Shut it,” Jay spat. Turning his attention to you sobbing in his arms, he figured that you had no idea that the person you were all over was him. If you did, you would be kicking and screaming at him.
As much as he needed to go, he didn’t feel great about leaving a drunk woman (no matter how much he disliked you) alone at night at the side of a road.
“[Name], where are your friends?”
You sniffled. “I don’t knowww.”
Jay huffed. He couldn’t find your phone, and he wasn’t going to hang up on his brother– who he honestly really needed to get to, like, right now.
He had a few options: fail at his job as Spider-Man by leaving a drunk woman unattended, go inside and physically look for your friends which will delay him going to Wonnie, or take you home himself. He did not have a lot of time.
Which is why he was currently carrying you, his worst enemy, bridal style as he shoots webs across the sky, all the while being on call with his kid brother.
“When are you getting home again?” Wonnie asked.
“Give me, like-” Jay looked around the city- “Five minutes.”
A lucky feat of being Spider-Man was that he had incredible speed and agility.
It wasn’t going to take much longer to get to your apartment, which he now realized was very close to his own apartment complex.
Actually, he was heading straight towards his apartment complex.
Weird.
Maybe yours is the one behind it?
Nope, there’s just an old construction site behind it.
Wait, so then where’s your apartment…?
Oh my god, you lived in the same apartment complex as him.
Speaking of, you were asleep in his arms.
“Won, what is Doctor Discotheque doing?”
“Having tea with our downstairs neighbors.”
“What?”
“What kind of question is that?!” Wonnie yelled over the phone. “He’s a supervillain! What do you think he’s doing? Wreaking havoc, duh!”
Jay took a deep breath so as to not yell back at this kid. “Yeah, I know. What in particular is he doing?”
“He’s being rude to the apartment staff.” When he was met with a judgmental silence, Wonnie groaned. “I’m serious. I think he’s waiting for you. He’s just being super mean to people right now.”
Damnit.
Jay took a look at the unconscious you in his arms. “Wonnie, I’m going to drop someone by the balcony. Take her in, will ya?”
Before Wonnie could blow up on him for bringing a ‘her’ home, Jay brusquely said, “I’m going down to kick Doctor Discotheque’s ass.”
Of all things in the world, you did not expect to wake up in Jay Park’s bed.
The next morning, you woke up with probably the worst headache you’ve ever had. You were never one to drink, but maybe the university stress was really getting to you. Groaning, you sunk your face into the freshly-washed white sheets. All seemed normal, until you realized a few things:
First, who took you home last night? You had no memory of anything that happened at the mixer that night. If you thought about it hard, you could probably remember getting ready for it, meeting some, ahem, unpleasant people, talking to a few friends… and really nothing more. In fact, the bedroom you were in right now didn’t look like it belonged to any of your friends.
Second, you were still in your clothes from last night. And makeup. And hair.
How did you get home last night?
This was probably the worst hangover you’ve had in a while. Nevertheless, when you realized that there was talking outside the room, you got out of bed to investigate.
Which led you to possibly the worst thing to ever witness.
Jay Park, with wet hair, shirtless on the couch.
The shrill scream you let out was enough to get a complaint from the neighbors.
“Oh my fuck, calm down,” Jay, in all his bitch-faced glory, rolled his eyes.
“You- You want me to calm down?” You were scandalized. Horrified. “You’re literally- You’re-”
“This is my house,” his eyes bored into you. “I can do whatever I want.”
“This- This is your house?”
He blinked. “Yeah.”
There was another ear-splitting scream before Jay convinced you to sit down so he could explain.
“You don’t need to sit so far away from me,” Jay dead-panned when you sat at the very edge of the couch.
“I don’t want to be near you,” you murmured.
“That's rich coming from someone that was all over me yesterday.”
The utmost and utter horror painted across your face was nearly laughable.
You?
All over Jay?
Was that why you woke up in his home…? In his bed?
“Oh my god,” you clasped a hand over your mouth. “Did we…”
“No.”
You breathed a heavy sigh of relief.
“Then how am I here then?”
Jay sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth.
If you weren't completely stunned into silence from the fact that you woke up in Jay Park’s bed, then you were now. Jay recounted a rather detailed account of what happened the night before– the two of you got drunk, and ended up more than touchy with each other. Your face heated up, with both embarrassment and… anger?
Frowning, you asked, “Then why’d you bring me home?”
“You were crying and begging me to come back inside with you, but I had to go.”
You glared at him, crossing your arms.
“Go on.”
“I wasn’t going to leave you out there drunk, you know,” Jay shrugged. “I was going to bring you to your apartment, but I had to fight– I mean– Spider-Man had to fight some.. Um, villain downstairs.”
You nodded slowly, but skeptically. Sensing your cynicism, Jay added quickly, “You can check the news. The fight was on the seventh floor.”
Your ears perked up. “Seventh floor?”
“Yeah-”
“That’s where I live.”
Jay’s eyes widened a fraction. “Shit.”
A great thing about being Spider-Man was that he was technically a government worker, a public service provider. The government paid for all the casualties caused by his work, luckily. Gone were the days that he’d be considered a masked menace.
As great as this was, it led to Jay being more or less reckless. Not that he was throwing shit around and purposefully breaking property when protecting citizens, but he had the freedom to do whatever was necessary. If he had to break down walls to save people, then so be it.
Speaking up, Spider-Man went a little.. Err… crazy last night. Maybe it was the alcohol still lingering in his system, or the fact that Doctor Discotheque the supervillain was literally insane. Safe to say, when fighting in the hallway of the seventh floor, Jay got a little aggressive and broke a few more things than usual.
If you found out that he-- Jay-- was Spiderman, a.k.a. the one that probably damaged your home, he’d be dead. Luckily, you wouldn't find out. Unluckily, your apartment was among those that were damaged last night.
“Can you stop that?” Jay said.
There were many reasons that Jay Park deeply disdained you. You were nit-picky, snobby, arrogant, pretentious, overly-critical, fussy, and extremely judgmental. Everyone thought you were some sort of genius, and he could tell that you liked the fact that they did.
“I’m fuckin’ stressed,” you spat as you paced around the floor. “I don’t think I can really ‘stop.’”
Not that he was a sick person, but the expression of genuine distress spread all over your face was almost satisfying. But then Jay realized the situation you were in and he knew it was his fault, so he felt just a little bad.
You lost your phone last night, and your apartment was more than a little damaged, the entire seventh floor being tarped and taped off. Sitting on the couch, you chewed on your bottom lip. It wasn’t even noon yet. Given your group of friends and the events last night, it wasn’t likely that any of them were awake at this time. And you didn’t have your phone- it wasn’t like you could just easily phone someone that wasn’t there last night.
You had a massive headache, feeling lightheaded with a throbbing sensation up there. You felt gross, with smudged makeup and the same tiny dress from last night. You could definitely walk to a friend’s place and wait there, but the heels you wore last night were the tallest, most painful, party-purposed stilettos. You were absolutely not walking around the city in those shoes.
The worst part about it all was that you were stuck in the apartment of none other than Jay Park.
Could you appreciate the fact that he looked out for you by taking you home? Yeah, sure.
But could you stand him? Absolutely not.
“Why are you walking around like that?” He was getting persnickety, as payback for all the times that you’d been nit-picky towards him. “You’re going to ruin my floorboards.”
You sent him a glare. Some empathy would be nice, you thought, rolling your eyes.
There really was only one person that was accessible to you if you wanted to get out of here, and it was Jay himself. You never really thought that there would be a day where you would need to ask for his help, but here you were, practically stranded. Speaking of, he was ignoring you, occasionally looking up from his phone to give you a weird look.
If you wanted to go home, you would need to swallow your pride and just ask for help.
You prided yourself in your ability to be blunt. You were a natural leader, ambitious and aggressive. You never had an issue with announcing your wants or needs. But now faced with the piercing silence of Jay Park, you simply could not open your mouth to speak. It wasn’t like you couldn't ask him, but that you wouldn't. Curling your lips, you let the glum, nearly shameful, feeling fall over yourself.
Eyes tracing the man’s outline carefully, you swallowed the lump in your throat.
‘[Name], you can do this,’ you recited to yourself. ‘You can do this. Just talk to him, just talk to-’
You pressed your lips together, before taking a deep breath and opening your mouth to speak. As you attempted to say his name, no sound came out. When he glanced up at you suspiciously,you quickly averted your gaze and closed your mouth.
When he looked away, your eyes flickered back to him, simply drilling into him. You licked your lips. For the second time, you opened your mouth to say his name, bracing yourself for the sound of your voice, but Jay spoke before you did.
“What are you looking at?”
You stood up straight like a board, pushing up your glasses clumsily.
“I- Well-”you cursed yourself for stammering. You never stammered like this. “I…”
He looked at you expectantly.
Your ego, that fat chunk of an ego, was crumbling.
“Park,” you brusquely said.
He leered at you. “What?”
You stared at him awkwardly, lips pressed into a line as thin as paper. “I… I.. um.”
He clicked his tongue impatiently. “On with it.”
You huffed loudly.
“Can I please use your phone?”
The second last thing that you expected to happen ever was to be sitting on Jay Park’s bed with wet hair wearing his hoodie and sweatpants. And that other than asking him for help.
Never have you felt so ashamed of yourself, sitting on the soft bed with your knees up to your chest.
The judgy glance that Jay gave you was absolutely soul-crushing, and after a humiliating stutter-filled explanation, he simply said, “Go take a shower.”
Were you initially mortified? Absolutely. But after soaking in the warm water for a few minutes, you begrudgingly thanked him. But only in your head.
Staring at a spot on the floor, you pressed your face into your knee, reflecting upon everything that had happened. As you were lost in thought, what startled you was a loud beeping sound, the slamming of a window, and yelling. You jumped to your feet in reaction, but before you could creep out of the bedroom, someone else came in.
Instead of a tall, well-built man with black hair, it was a young boy no older than ten holding a massive walkie talkie.
“Who- Who are you?”
The boy blinked owlishly, before cracking a grin. “Oh, it’s you!”
You recoiled. “Wh-What?”
“You’re the lady from last night!” he laughed, revealing sharp canine teeth. When you only looked more bewildered, he continued, “The lady that Jjongsaeng brought home last night!”
Jjongsaeng? “You mean Park— er, Jay?”
The boy frowned. “He didn’t tell me he had a girlfriend,” he murmured to himself quietly, before turning over to you. “Mhm!”
“I’m sorry, who are you?” You were a little concerned. Who was this child and why was he in Jay Park’s apartment?
“Oh!” The boy laughed again, throwing his head back. He came closer to you, extending a small hand towards you. “Jungwon! But just call me Wonnie!”
Okay, but your question wasn’t answered exactly. “Are you…” you took a better look at Wonnie. He was just so small! Though, he looked an awful lot like Jay Park… – “Are you his son… or…?”
The boy put an offended hand over his chest, scowling deeply.
“Son?” he gawked. “I’m his brother!!”
Your lips formed an ‘o.’
“And what’s your name?” Wonnie looked at you curiously.
“[Name] [Last Name]– Just– Just call me [Name].”
A silence fell over you two.
“Do you- Do you know where your brother is?” When Wonnie gave you a suspicious look, you quickly added, “I need to use his phone.”
He gave you another long stare, before saying simply, “He’s not here.”
How could he not be here? Jay was just here, like, twenty minutes ago? “What do you mean?” you narrowed your eyes.
“He-” Wonnie’s large eyes hovered over to the window quickly, before fluttering back to you. “He went to work.”
“Doesn’t he have a night internship?”
Wonnie grumbled something under his breath, almost looking stressed, gripping the walkie talkie. “Yyyyyessss,” he nodded slowly. “But he has a day job too…. As an.. Um, photographer?”
You nodded slowly. “Right. When do you expect he’ll be back?”
Wonnie glanced at the window again. “In, like, fifteen minutes-”
Crash!
You two rushed over to the living room window, peering across to the construction site behind the apartment complex. There, there were news reporters, blaring ambulances and police cars, and rubble and dust everywhere. Not to mention the elephant in the room: Spider-Man and two criminals.
“Oh my god, is that Spider-Man?”
Wonnie didn’t seem as impressed as you, opting to toy with his walkie talkie. “Yeah, he’s here all the time. Cool guy.”
You frowned. You lived only a few floors down and you wouldn’t say that Spider-Man was ‘here all the time.’
“Really? This is my first time seeing him.”
Fingering the window handle, you pushed it open.
You’d heard all the stories. Your friends talk about seeing the red-and-blue-clad hero with his iconic spider logo. He was some neighborhood hero. According to a few of your friends, he’d help them fight off muggers and creeps, swinging in with his sticky white webs just moments before all hell broke loose. Apparently, he was a super suave guy, and according to a few, really hot.
“As hot as a masked hero can be,” you would laugh with your friends. Now watching from a few stories up, you could definitely see the appeal. The sun was out, casting a harsh shadow on Spider-Man’s defined back muscles. The skin-tight suit hugged his strong arms and sturdy build.
There was something so fascinating about Spider-Man. He was strong, friendly, dutiful, sure. But what made him so alluring was that you wanted to study him– dissect him. It was only in your nature to want to know every single inner-workings of a figure like him.
You then felt a poke at your side. It was Wonnie.
“What, are you in love with him or something?”
You tore your eyes from Spider-Man’s figure. “What? No!”
Wonnie raised his brows. “Hmmm… Okay.”
You turned back over to the window, except when you scanned for Spider-Man, he had disappeared completely.
“Hey, where did he-”
The front door of the Park apartment flew right open, revealing a disheveled Jay Park.
“Y-You’re back already?” Wasn’t he just at a job….?
Jay waved his hand in front of him, taking off his shoes. “Yeah. Why? Were you gonna do something?”
Your nose scrunched. “No! I just thought you were at a job.”
Jay scoffed. “Who told you that-” He cut himself off when he noticed the awkward expression painted across Wonnie’s face.
“Fuckin’ dumbass,” he muttered.
Jay Park would have never guessed that you would be sleeping in his bed. For the second night. In a row. None of your friends had enough space for you to crash, and if not, they just didn’t pick up the phone.
“You need better friends,” Jay had told you in a matter-of-fact way, earning a sharp glare.
And it wasn’t an easy decision to let you stay with him either.
The apartment was a 2-bedroom one. One for himself, one for his kid brother. He sure as hell wasn’t going to make Wonnie leave his room or you and Wonnie share a room, and he most definitely was not sharing a bed with you. He’d make you sleep on the couch, but the Spider-Man in him told him not to. So very grudgingly, Jay let you take his room.
He was only allowing this because it was him that practically destroyed your apartment. Even if he didn’t like you, he did take responsibility for what happened.
Maybe that one argument you had the summer of sophomore year got to him.
And plus, he could not stand you. All the little jabs you made at him, even down to your facial expressions, had him riled up. But, for the sake of the child in the room, Jay made no big attempt to fight back.
Curled up on the couch, Jay couldn’t shake off the glum feeling that settled on his chest.
Jay Park never realized how many qualms he would have with another person living in his house.
He was okay with Wonnie, because Wonnie knew his identity as Spider-Man. And plus, Wonnie was his brother– that little squirt was tolerable. When it’s just the two of them, Jay could do basically anything he wanted. Wonnie was more than enthusiastic when he would use his webs to pull objects toward him or hang on the ceiling just because he could, and it was a rather common occurrence for you two to make a ruckus whenever there was crime in town. Jay could go do Spider-Man things whenever he needed to, and Wonnie would be okay with it.
But now with you living with him temporarily, he had to be a lot more careful.
Especially with your nitpicking everything he does.
“Why do you cut your bread like that?”
“Ew, your butter is so hard.”
“Can you stop chewing so loud?’
“Why does your face look like that?-- Oh, hi Wonnie!”
“Hi, [Name]!”
It seemed like Wonnie and you got along better.
“Hey, where are you going?” you asked from the kitchen table.
Jay, who was putting on his coat and shoes at the door, made a face. Swinging his backpack over his shoulders, he took Wonnie’s hand. “What do you think we’re doing?”
It was a rhetorical question, but you answered matter-of-factly. “Class doesn’t start until nine though!”
Jay pointed to Wonnie. “Gotta take him to school.”
That was only partially the truth. He did indeed take Wonnie to elementary school, but like every morning, he went on a morning patrol. The amount of small robberies and little school children walking into traffic was a bit staggering, but not to worry, Spider-Man was on his way.
Like right now.
As Jay swung from building to building, he carefully scanned the alleyways and streets to possibly catch any crime. When he stopped to rest atop a mix-use flower shop, crouching in his iconic pose, he spotted two children and a man.
Jay’s enhanced senses allowed him to hear the conversation-
“Let go!” one of the children pleaded, pulling away from the man. The other child, clearly the younger one, confusedly held onto the other.
“Kids, kids!” the man chuckled, continuing his tightened grip. “Just come with me. I’m your parents’ friend!”
The older of the two scrunched her nose, continuing to resist the man.
Jay observed from above. Clearly, these children had no idea who this man was. By the looks of it, there wasn’t anyone else around. Even if the kids screamed, no one would come to the rescue quick enough. This weird kidnapper guy could definitely take these kids without a doubt.
Cue the screaming and crying.
Panicked, the man tightened his grip on the kids, jerking them along as he began to walk towards the alleyway.
Fuckin’ creep, Jay thought before shooting a white web at the lampost a few meters down the pavement, swinging down. Extending a leg, he held onto the web as he suspended across the air. As he closed in on the man, he heard the two children let out shrill gasps just as Jay's foot made impact with the man’s cheek.
The brief moment of surprise made the man loosen his grip on the two children, allowing for them to scurry back. Now on the ground, Jay stood over his fallen figure.
Disgusting, he thought as he peered down at the man. Just thinking about what he would have done to the children made him angry. The man groaned in pain. Jay leaned down to the man, bringing a masked, yet somehow patronizing, face to him.
“Hey, buddy!” His words were ordinary, but very clearly filled with contempt. “Whatcha doin’ over there with those kids?”
When the man didn’t answer, Jay stamped a foot right between the man’s legs, impossibly close to his crotch. “C’mon, man. Wontcha explain?”
The panic in the man’s eyes was satisfying, as he began to draw out a pocket knife.
“S-Spider-Man?!”
Under his mask, Jay cracked a smirk. “Honored to be at your service.”
The man ogled at Spider-Man’s built figure– he stood no chance against the hero. Regardless, he stumbled to his feet, pointing the blade at Jay. “Stay back!”
Jay laughed.
“Oh no! A knife! Anything but the knife!” Jay feigned fear, cowering into himself. “I’m so scared! Please! My biggest weakness is a tiny little knife!”
The man faltered, staring hesitantly at the hero. Jay took this moment to shoot one more web at the street light, giving him momentum to jump in and kick this guy in the face again.
“Oh, man,” Jay chuckled. “That knife really got me.”
“I-I’m sorry!” The man gawked at the hero’s figure standing over him, spluttering as he struggled to his feet and finally scuttling away.
Jay watched his running back carefully.
“Thank you so much, Spider-Man!” he heard the children cheering behind him. Turning over his shoulder, Jay gave them a salute, before shooting a web and swinging away.
When classes for the day ended, Jay Park wanted a head-start on patrolling. The sun was only beginning to set, casting a golden hue over the city. He liked this time of day the most. There was always a faint citrusy smell in the air, and he wished he could take off his mask to feel the wind rake through his hair.
He checked all the important places– the bank, the university, the bus station, and especially the central business district. The alleyways were crazy notorious for being crime-ridden, so he was extra attentive with the patrol.
Speaking of, there seemed to be a bit of a conundrum right now. From the top of a high-rise building, Jay’s eyes zeroed in on the figures a few hundred feet below him. It was no uncommon occurrence for there to be some sort of assault (with Spider-Man here, attempted assault) in a dark alleyway. Jay always followed a basic procedure:
Step one: identify what’s happening.
From above, he could see that– oh shit– a woman was going to be mugged.
Little did he know, much to both of your luck, that woman was you.
Step two: identify the threat.
Two guys, both disheveled, one with a pocket-knife. Even though he couldn’t see your face, just by the looks of it, you were clearly disadvantaged– these two guys were massive compared to you.
“We see ya wallet, girl,” one of the men said. For two people who were very much advantaged, they were rather shy with the knife, holding it low and with little confidence. “Hand ovah the money.”
When you didn’t respond, they got a little more vindictive, slamming the rusted brick wall, demanding for money.
Step three: swoop in and-
Jay was bewildered by the raucous clanking of metal trash can tops against the dirty pavement. Gaping down, he could see one of the men crashed up against the trash cans, and the other one taken aback.
Did you just…?
Jay was taken by surprise once again when he heard grunting and groaning in pain. You were kicking these men when they were down. With heeled shoes. And it was now that he finally noticed your physicality: [H/C] hair. Glasses. Big attitude. Oh my god, how did he not realize that it was you?
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” you landed a kick at the crotch. Jay hissed in pain just at the sight of that. “Huh? You think you own this fuckin’ place?” Another kick. “Fuckin’ scum.”
Jay was contemplating whether or not he should go down there and give you– [Name]-fucking-[Last Name]– a hand. He was going to decide against it, when his spidey senses picked up the very crisp sound of a blade scraping across the pavement. While you were busy cussing out one of the assailants, you didn’t notice the way one of the men unsheathed the pocket-knife.
Jay could see it— In a matter of seconds, the guy’d bare the blade and shank your right in the abdomen. He sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, tongue swiping right over his metal lip piercing.
“Hey, fuckface!” In one fell swoop, Jay landed a powerful punch to the blade-bearing assailant’s cheek, sending him flying down the alleyway. you let out a shriek.
“Spider-Man?!”
It was weird to see you startled like this. “Hey, Gorgeous.”
In his defense, there was not a bone in his body that thought that you were gorgeous. It was simply a habit he took on when he assumed the role of Spider-Man. He said that to everyone.
The second assailant, the one that you had basically beat up with words, was still keeled against the trash cans, eyes widened and fearful of what the friendly neighborhood hero could do.
Jay leaned down to be at eye-level with the man. “Nice day, isn’t it?”
The man spluttered, and Jay sneered. The kick that the hero gave to the man square in the chest subsequently propelled him down the alleyway, joining his friend at the back.
“Maybe don’t try to mug someone in broad daylight, bud.”
When Jay heard a few clanking sounds and groans of pain, he turned to you.
You were looking at him with large, shiny eyes, utterly consumed in admiration. Jay cringed at the silence that fell over the two of you. It wasn’t normal for there to be such a calm silence between him and you. If there wasn’t arguing, then there’d be an uncomfortable and tense atmosphere.
“I- Spider-Man…” you said, looking up at him through your glasses. The way that your eyes were practically glued to his masked face had Jay scrunching his nose. After a long silence of you just staring at him, you quickly avert your gaze, finding interest in your shoes instead. God, why were you getting so shy? Seeing the abashed expression on your face was like seeing a police officer get a parking ticket– so fucking out-of-character and just pure unnatural.
Jay wanted badly to make a jab at you, to say, “Hey, Jay Park just saved your sorry ass.”
But he didn’t.
Because that’s not what friendly neighborhood Spider-Mans do.
You bit your lip before glancing up at him. It was almost like you could feel his eyes questioning you from behind his mask, and once again, avert your gaze, pushing up your metal frames.
It was now that Jay truly realized what was going on– Did you have a crush on Spider-Man?
You were acting really shy, and you were looking at him like he was some kind of god.
The thought made him want to shrink into his own skin, but for some reason, it also made him grin. Grin a smug grin. Because now he had something to dangle over your head.
He didn’t have any sinister intentions other than the fact that he wanted an opportunity to be petty with you.
“Thank you, Spider-Man,” you finally blurted, that bashful look still casted on your face.
Jesus Christ, the way you were acting soft-spoken and coy was so weird.
He could do one of two things to fuck with you.
He could be extremely cold and distant, making you feel embarrassed. It would definitely be satisfying to see you panicked and flustered. But then again, Spider-Man’s job was to keep the city safe, not be mean to civilians. Even if said civilian was someone he couldn’t stand.
The second he could do was fluster you in a different kind of way: enthrall you with charm to mess with you. It was certainly a more ethical way to fuck with you, but Jay wasn’t sure if he’d be up for practically flirting with the person he hated more than anything else.
You shyly looked at him, expecting a response.
On second thought, he might be up for it.
He didn’t want to break you. Just fuck with that strong head of yours a little bit.
“Anything for you,” Jay took a step closer to you, just close enough that you would be taken aback, “Beautiful.”
Okay, maybe he should never do that again. Jay was not a lady-charmer. He had no game. There was a reason that he didn’t have a girlfriend, and it was because he could not flirt for shit. His skin was crawling with cringe– what he would do to have the ground open up and eat him whole because that shit was the worst thing he’s probably ever done.
His internal squirming was cut short when he saw the way your eyes widened a fraction, before letting a slight abashed curve settle on your lips.
“Oh- I-” you lowered your head, your glasses laying on the very tip of your nose.
“Thanks,” you stammered.
.
.
.
Now it was awkward.
What was he supposed to do now? Kiss you? No! What the fuck?
“I’m gonna go now,” Jay muttered. Extending his arm and aiming it at the top of the adjacent building, he prepared to shoot a web. However, he was stopped when you gently grabbed onto his bicep.
“Wait.” Your voice was uncharacteristically quiet, meek almost. “I-I don’t feel safe going home now.”
Jay blinked.
Jay Park never seemed to expect anything.
For the second time ever, in the same week, he was carrying you across the sky to his own home.
This time, though, you were wide awake instead of black-out drunk.
With your arms wrapped around his neck, you clung to him as he held onto your body tightly in the bridal-style. It wasn’t abnormal for him to be carrying a damsel in distress like this, but Jay never thought that he would be carrying you of all people.
With you clinging so close to him, Jay could smell that sweet, citrusy scent again. He grimaced when he was once again reminded of the events that had transpired a few nights ago. Whenever he thought about it, Jay could almost feel his skin crawl, remembering the wet and sticky kisses placed on his skin.
Jay tried to ignore the way you stared at him so incredulously, wide and glinted as if he was some sort of idol.
As Jay approached the edge of the high-rise office building, he noticed you bracing yourself for the jump You’d been shutting your eyes tightly and letting out a little peep every time he’d jump across buildings.
Maybe he should try fucking with you right now.
Launching off his feet, Jay had propelled the two of you into the wide valley between office buildings. Usually, he’d shoot a web within a few milliseconds of just being the air. However, with you in his arms…
“S-Spider-Man…!” you squeezed his bicep. You were falling…!
Jay was taking his sweet time with shooting another web, waiting for them to be just a few hundred meters from the bustling and traffic-filled road, giving you the illusion that you were about to topple to your death.
“Spider-Man, we’re gonna–!”
When you were practically dangling over the cars, Jay shot a web up to the next building, hoisting you two up and away.
“What, you don’t trust me, Beautiful?” Jay got some sick satisfaction from shaking up the usually-controlled you. If he was Jay, he probably would have made a jab, say something like “I told you so,” but since he was Spider-Man he stuck to the flashy and charming persona that the hero built himself.
“I… I trust you, Spider-Man, just– Eep!”
Jay threw his head back, laughing. It was funny when you got scared.
“Stop making fun of me, Spider-Man!” you lightly slapped his chest. “I’m just…– Eep!--”you squeezed his bicep again– “Scared of heights.”
Jay gave your waist a squeeze. “I got you, Angel.”
It was weird to pull up to his own apartment and pretend that it wasn’t his.
“This your place?”
Jay was curious as to what you would say. He dropped you off on the balcony, before going into his iconic crouching pose on the thin metal railing.
You shook your head. “It’s my… friend’s. I’m staying with him because….”
You trailed off, before your eyes fluttered over to Jay’s masked face. “Hey, didn’t you fight some villain the other day?”
Oh.
Right.
The reason that you were even staying with him was because… Well, him.
Jay nodded slowly.
“Oh- Well, um,” you wrung your fingers. “My apartment, it got… Yeah.”
It was like you could sense the uneasiness behind the mask.
For the heinous amount of crime-fighting that Jay did, he did feel a little bad for the amount of infrastructure that got ruined. It seemed like every other week there were glass shards strewn all across the streets. He couldn’t imagine the type of work that would go into rebuilding homes and infrastructure after so much damage.
That, he will take responsibility for.
He lowered his head. “Yeah, fuck, I’m sorry about that.”
A civilian is a civilian.
“No, no, no!” you said rather brusquely, almost in a hostile way, waving your hands in front of yourself.
Ah, there it was. The [Name] that he knew.
When you realized your tone of voice, you quickly back-tracked, clearing your throat and pushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear.
“I mean- It’s okay, Spider-Man,” you said, looking up at him through your lashes. “You did what you had to do.”
If you knew his identity ,you wouldn't say that. You would probably file a lawsuit against him.
But he appreciated the sentiment.
“What’s your name, Pretty?” He needed you to formally introduce yourself so he could stop using those cheesy nicknames.
You smiled bashfully again. “[Name].”
“Then I’ll see you later,” Jay jumped to his feet, balancing on the metal railing. He looked over his shoulder, raising a hand up, “[Name].”
With that he began swinging away.
You blinked slowly, eyes trailing his slowly disappearing figure.
When he was out of your sight, your lips immediately broke out into a wide grin. Taking off your glasses, you used a hand to cover your eyes, feeling your cheeks heat up and pull upward.
Oh, you understood it now. Why everyone said Spider-Man was so charming.
Using both hands to cover your warm face, you let a few giggles out into your palms.
God, Spider-Man was attractive.
Your momentary fluster was cut short when the screen door of the balcony slammed open.
“Are you gonna come in or….?”
You turned to look over your shoulder.
Jay Park. Always had to ruin everything, didn’t he?
You huffed, removing your hands from your face. “Yeah… Just, give me a second.”
“Okay.”
When you turned back, you failed to notice the smug grin plastered across Jay’s face.
You heard from many people that Jay Park had an issue with disappearing. You understood what they meant. In the classes that you shared with him (which was few because your majors were different but similar enough), he would be absent for a few days at a time. At parties, even if you didn't actively seek him out, you’d see him at the beginning and after a few minutes, he’d just completely vanish. Even at some get-togethers that your mutual friends hosted, you’d hear some people complain about Jay always needing to “go to his job.”
Now that you, more or less, lived under the same roof as him, you understood to a whole other degree what people meant.
According to what his own friends said, Jay had a night internship, and according to his brother, he also had a day job. He didn’t show up to his classes some days, but you would see him in the morning before class alive and well, so he clearly wasn’t having health issues. How crazy was his schedule? You had friends in his major with jobs of their own, and they weren’t flaky in the way that Jay was.
Jay would be up early, completely disappear for the entire day, and come home late.
It was weird.
Not that you cared.
You could care less what happened to him.
You just found it strange.
Like right now.
It was late at night. Finals were coming up soon, and you simply couldn’t sleep.
See, Wonnie was normal. Wonnie had an ordinary, completely sane, schedule. In the morning, Jay would take him to school, and in the afternoon (you assumed that) Jay either picked him up or Wonnie walked home. Either way, the kid had a much more tangible daily schedule, yet his brother’s was the complete opposite. But it didn’t seem like Wonnie questioned anything either.
You saw Wonnie come in and out of rooms, heard him get a glass of milk, you even said good night to him.
The yellow-white lights that illuminated the apartment were blinding now, wearing down your eyes to the point that they felt watery. There was a sort of morose feeling that set over you as you sat at the cold kitchen counter. From final exams to the fact that your apartment was under reconstruction to the fact that you were practically intruding on our greatest enemy’s home was frustrating.
It would be completely bitchy and ungrateful of you to not recognize the sort of generosity that Jay displayed toward you. You really, genuinely, truly, could not stand him. He was someone who constantly made your day worse, someone who you'd never been able to agree with for years, someone who went out of his way to bother you– and vice versa. It wasn’t like you had no idea why he’d try to help you: he might be a supervillain to you, but he was no monster. It was clear that you were on a “I-only-doing-this-because-it’s-courteous” basis, but even then, for him to give you his own bedroom was more than courteous.
You didn’t like it.
Of all people in the world, why did he have to be so… hospitable?
You didn’t like the fact that you felt so dependent and almost helpless.
You must have sat at that kitchen counter for a good chunk of time, because the next time you really moved from your lethargic position was when there was a sudden bang against the window. Lost in thought, you violently jerked up, jumping to your feet.
Eyes quivering to the windows, which were blackened by the dark night sky, there was nothing there.
Strange.
You had your tongue dig into the inside of your cheek, frozen in place. Just when you thought your mind was just playing games, another loud bang against the window resounded through the room, followed by a few jumbled curse words.
You weren’t exactly happy that the one time you would get robbed it would be in your enemy's house.
Shit.
Except, instead of a masked burglar comically dressed in black, someone completely unexpected bursted through the window.
Red and blue spandex suit, complete masked-over face, and that unmistakable spider icon.
“Spider-Man?!”
Oh.
My.
God.
Why was Spider-Man landing in Jay Park’s apartment at this time?
And when you looked down at what you were wearing– a thin tank-top and pajama shorts–you suddenly became a lot more alarmed and self-conscious than you initially were.
“[Name]?” Spider-Man gaped. Except instead of that friendly and playful tone he was known for, it sounded sour. “What are you doing up at this time?”
You, who was now very consciously covering yourself up, gawked. “I’m– I was studying– What are you doing here, Spider-Man?”
“What do you mean? This is my ho–” Spider-Man stopped himself, before clearing his throat. Like a switch had been flipped, the hero began again, “I’m, um, stopping by to see my friend.”
You blinked.
“Y’know, Jay Park– dark hair, lip-piercing, super handsome and cool.”
Your nose scrunched at the description.
“I didn’t know you lived with him, Beautiful,” Spider-Man continued. “You said you lived with a friend, right?”
You pushed a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “I mean, I wouldn’t say friend. We’re like, acquaintances… by association.”
“You don’t sound like you like ‘em very much, yeah, Gorgeous?”
You weren’t about to lambaste Jay Park in front of Spider-man, who was apparently his friend. That would be discourteous, and you weren’t about to flame the guy that was letting you sleep in his house.
“He’s…” You didn’t want to make it seem like you were buddies, especially in front of Spider-Man. “He’s all right.”
Spider-Man was now inching toward you. “Just all right?”
You eyed the hero’s well-built figure as he came closer and closer to you, suddenly feeling shy and exposed. You felt even more shy and exposed when he very clearly lingered around the sight of your silhouette. The way his voice resounded throughout the room, slightly raspy from the yelling he must have done and low due to his exhaustion, sent a chill down your spine.
“He’s okay,” you responded curtly. “How– How do you know him? How do you know Park?”
You could feel Spider-Man’s eyes on you even through his mask.
“How do I know him?” Spider-Man crouched down next to your feet at the kitchen island, looking up at you. You could hear the grin in his voice. “He met me in senior year of high school.”
Oh wow. They’ve known each other for a while.
“A spider bit him, or something,” the masked hero continued. “And I found him all sick and sad when his uncle passed.”
That’s right. In senior year of high school, Jay’s uncle, the person who took on a father figure after his parents unfortunately passed. It had taken a toll on him at the time. You remembered passing him in the hallways, seeing the messy black hair overgrown over his brows and dark eye bags. The one person that you regularly debated in AP Macro was no longer interested. At the time, you had contemplated whether or not to reach out to him, but he’d completely shut everyone out.
“That’s great,” you murmured. No matter how much you didn’t like him, it didn’t mean that he should lose someone important to him. “That’s great that he had someone there for him. I remember–”
Spider-Man looked up at you.
“I remember– I tried to talk to him about it once, in… I think it was in Stats?” you recounted. Your lips pressed together before forming a slight curve. “He yelled at me.”
“He yelled at you?”
You almost laughed. “Yeah, he did. Oh man, we never got along in high school– even now– but… It’s not nice to lose someone you love, is it?”
Spider-Man stared at you silently, before quickly agreeing– “Yeah, it isn’t.”
You bit your lip as you recounted. “I wanted to comfort him, but I don’t think he wanted me of all people to do that. At least I tried.” Your eyes fluttered over to Spider-Man. “I’m glad he had someone like you to be there for him.”
Spider-Man didn’t speak.
“Are you and Park close?” you asked.
“Yeah, we are.”
You hummed. “Oh. Do you see each other a lot?”
“Everyday.”
.
.
.
Spider-Man got to his feet.
“[Name], do you want to go on an adventure with me?”
Sometimes you thought you were stupid. Not all the time because you knew you were smart, but some time like now, where you allowed a masked man who may or may have not broken into your enemy's apartment claiming to be his friend to take you around the city at night. And you did it without even telling anyone, so if you got killed in an alleyway no one would know.
Not to worry, though.
Jay Park thought he was pretty stupid, too.
Staying out late at night right before finals week and completely forgetting about the workaholic nerd freak that lived with him temporarily (you). And to make it worse, he mentioned his own civilian self!-- and he obviously couldn’t be in two places at once.
He needed a way to deflect.
“Wooooh!” Jay hooted as he swung from building to building.
“Spider-Man– Slow down…!”
Unlike the last two times he’d taken you out on some sort of aerial excursion, you had your arms and legs wrapped tightly around his neck and torso, hugging him from the back instead of Jay holding you bridal-style.
It was nice for a change. For the first time, you were hanging off his back instead of being directly held by him. Jay couldn’t help the snicker that he let out when you would squeeze him and squeal in his ear out of fear.
“I thought ya said you trusted me,” he beamed. Jay could feel the way your face pressed into his back as you dangled in the sky. “C’mon, Gorgeous, don’t get all scared on me now.”
“It’s not fair- Eep!”
“What’s not fair, hm?” He shot another web. You didn't respond, opting to squeeze him harder. “What’s not fair, [Name]?”
“This!” you chided in his ear. “You-You’re not scared because you do this every day!”
“Well, maybe you should do this more then.”
To Jay, it was really weird to carry a frightened you around. He never took you for the clingy type, but maybe there’s a lot he didn’t know about you. It was especially weird when he was Spider-Man, because you were oddly nice to him. When he’s Jay, there’s no denying that you’re hostile.
“Why are you so nervous?” Jay sneered when you two landed on top of the central clock tower. You’d sat down at the top, letting the cool late-Spring night hit you. For someone notorious for their crazy confidence, it was absurd to see such a person all feeble and fiddling with their fingers.
“It’s just finals,” you mumbled.
Jay nearly laughed. “Wow, you really are a nerdo freak.”
Your cheeks visibly heated up, folding your arms over your chest. “Hey! I’m not a nerdo fre–” You stopped yourself, before you brought your eyes up to the hero. “Did he tell you that?”
The man narrowed his eyes. “W-What?”
“Park is the only person that calls me ‘nerdo freak,’” you frowned, raising up your fingers to make air-quotes. “He’s been calling me that since highschool.”
Oh.
Shit.
“Y-Yeah,” the man responded, sucking in a shallow breath. “He talks to me about you a lot.”
Not true.
Jay Park doesn’t talk to Spider-Man about anything.
Because they’re the same person.
You swiped your tongue over your bottom lip. “Really? What does he say about me?”
Oh, this would be awkward.
“Jay thinks you’re really… Uhm…”
There’s two things Jay could do. Tell you his (Jay’s) honest thoughts about you as Spider-Man and effectively make the entire atmosphere both now and at home awkward. Though, it wouldn’t be much of a loss because he (Jay) already made it loud and clear how he felt about you through his words and actions toward you. It would only be awkward because he as Spider-Man was the one expressing it.
The second thing he could do was lie.
“He thinks you’re hot as fuck.”
Oh my fucking god what was he doing.
“Oh… uh… Really?”
Jay wanted to kill himself.
Of all things he could have said, he said thats?– Oh my god, and now you were shifting uncomfortably in your seat– What does he do?
Jay Park was not attracted to you and he will never be! Never! Ever!
It was the first thing that came to his mind! He doesn’t mean it! Jay Park hates you! He thinks you’re ugly and- Well, actually, that’s not true. You’re a very pretty woman, he did indeed get crazy butterflies the night of the soccer mixer, and he did catch himself staring at you a few times, because let’s be honest, the tiny tank-top and pajama shorts looked good as fuck on you– but still-!
“Did he tell you that… or…?”
“Yeah, that’s a direct quote.”
Jay Park! What are you doing?
part 2 here
2K notes
·
View notes