#Ew David shirt | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oracleofapollon · 2 years

Text

hey babe, let’s go out tonight

tasm!peter parker x reader

summary: while having lunch with peter parker you pine for him so much it hurts.

warnings: fluff, idiots in love, friends to lovers, reader has hair long enough to put behind their ear

wc: 1.5k

It’s a sunny day, you forgot your sunglasses and now are cursing at yourself, because the sun shines damn brightly. And because of this you almost don’t notice the boy approaching the bench you’re lounging on.

“Hi there, sunshine,” says Peter teasingly as he drops his backpack next to your feet. You pull your earbuds out and pretend you didn’t catch the stupid nickname he gave you.

Stupid, stupid, stupidly cute nickname.

That was the whole thing with Peter Parker. You were unable to define what you two had going on, which was terrifyingly exciting. Technically you were friends—best friends, even. Inseparable, two halves of the whole, unstoppable and forever. At least it felt like it. You always appreciated those moments with him; walks in the park, getting milkshakes, seeing cheap and bad movies at your local theater, or like now, having lunch together everyday at 12 between your classes. But sometimes his eyes would linger on yours for too long, and the honey of his eyes would envelop you, and his hair would look so soft, and his lips so pink, and the little beauty mark on his cheek so worthy of your love, and those tranquil moments would become too intimate for you. Everytime you scold yourself for feeling the warmth dripping from your heart and flooding your body.

He doesn’t feel that way. You shouldn’t feel that way.

“Hi,” you smile, finally able to open your eyes fully thanks to the shadow he’s casting while towering over you. “You’re late.”

“By a minute,” he rolls his eyes and, oh god, oh god, no, he takes his hoodie off in that stupid way that he does, his t-shirt riding up and leaving his abdomen naked right in front of you.

You immediately look down to find your bag and take out a sandwich and an apple you packed for lunch. Totally not thinking about the trail of dark hair leading from his navel downwards, disappearing into his old, kinda ripped jeans (he refuses to admit they’re old; he claims ripped jeans are fashionable now and he bought them like this).

After a second you feel the sun shining on you again and hear Peter flopping down next to you. His knee is touching yours and you hate how much you love this feeling.

“What were you listening to?” he looks at you with a smirk and those puppy eyes and, before you can answer, reaches over your thighs to check one of your earbuds. You hope he didn’t notice the goosebumps you got when his hand touched your lap. “David Bowie?” smiling he hands you the other earbud. You put it in and hear Rebel Rebel blasting with the volume almost maxed out.

You smile at the familiar beat and close your eyes, mouthing the lyrics and bobbing your head.

He doesn’t stop looking at you, though. You feel his gaze on your nose, lips, chin, lips again.

But it might all be just my imagination. Human mind plays tricks on us, especially when we want something very much, right? Didn’t Freud say something about one’s deepest wants appearing in their–

Stop. Why the hell are you thinking about Freud right now? Ew.

And my deepest want is not Peter Parker staring at me. Literally stop.

“I remember seeing him on TV when I was a kid,” says Peter in the softest, smallest voice you have ever heard leaving him. It’s not quite a whisper, but it’s spoken like a secret. You open your eyes and see him looking at you, but his gaze is not present. He’s very, very far away.

“Yeah?” you prompt sitting up straighter and pull out the earbud to show you’re listening.

“Yeah,” he replies, zoned out, blinking rapidly when his eyes start drying out. “The reporter was being pushy. She was asking him about being gay.”

“Oh.” You scoot even closer to him, pressing your side into his, making him turn his head and come back to earth.

“He replied with so much confidence. ‘Bout being bisexual. I didn’t know what he was talking about then. But years later it made me feel seen, understood,” you take his hand in yours, squeezing comfortingly. “Made me accept I like boys and girls the same way. Helped me.” he squeezes back, staring at his converse. He’s so deep in thought, small, unsure of himself. You want him to feel loved so badly. You didn’t want to overwhelm him, though.

“Thank you for telling me, Pete,” you rub his back and he sends you the sweetest smile. You smile back and feel a rush of emotions, this warmth, the need to be close to him. And it’s so hard to contain that it all spills out. “I love you,” you say, maybe recklessly, maybe without thinking. But you really do love him. You weren’t sure what kind of love it was, but it was love, nonetheless.

There goes your not-overwhelming him.

“I know,” his brown eyes hold so much care. What did he know? That you loved him as a friend? Or that you felt more? Did he know you can’t focus around him? That he sometimes appears in your dreams with his lips soft, sweet and warm against yours?

He puts a strand of hair behind your ear. “I love you too.”

His gaze falls on your lips and back on your eyes quickly. If you only blinked, you’d missed it.

Then his stomach grumbles.

“Aw, man,” disappointment colors his voice and you don’t know what he means by that. He straightens out, changes his voice from quiet and intimate to louder and casual. You kinda hate it. Then you hate yourself for hating it and for being greedy. “Shall we eat, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. You might cry or go crazy if you don’t figure out what he means. Is it sweetheart or sweetheart?

You’re unpacking your sandwich when he nudges your arm.

“Actually,” he laughs a bit awkwardly, “May made us some cookies.” He pulls out two paper bags and hands one to you. You freeze for a second, not understanding what was happening. “I hope you like them,” his voice is higher, he speaks quicker, a bit anxiously, “they’re not really sweet, y’know? ‘Cause May wants to cut down on sugar. So it’s only oats, nuts and, um, blueberries… I think? So… so if you don’t like them it’s obviously fine. It’s… cool.”

You take the bag from him, a bit stunned. That was probably the most adorable thing anyone has ever done for you.

You take a bite of the cookie. It sure isn’t as sweet as brownies with sugar powder and vanilla ice cream on top, but it’s just sweet enough. A bit crunchy, a bit sour from the fruit, but oh so warm, because someone made them with you in mind.

You swallow your bite and smile at Peter, all teeth. He relaxes when he sees you like it and then tenses again when he feels your lips pecking his cheek. And when you pull back, his face is all pretty and pink.

God, he’s beautiful. Sun in his eyes, hair, skin. You truly cannot comprehend it when he says no one was ever interested in him. The first time you saw him, all focused, brows furrowed, with his sleeves rolled up and hands working on something in the lab you were passing by, you got weak in the knees. Not that you would ever admit it.

“They’re delicious, Pete. Wonderful. Amazing. Incredible. So, so tasty. And just sweet enough,” now you’re rambling, but you just need to express your gratefulness and affection. “And I can’t even put into words how thankful I am for them. Thank you so, so much. And please thank May. Give her hugs and kisses from me,” you beam, munching the cookie, putting your head on his shoulder.

Peter is quiet for a second. He puts his head on top of yours, biting into his own cookie. After it’s gone, he turns his face into your hair. “Well, if I’m supposed to give them to her from you, you should give them to me first. Y’know, so I can pass them on.”

It takes you a while. A second, two seconds. Then you understand he means hugs and kisses and your heart beats so rapidly you think you might be having a cardiac arrest. Hell, maybe you are. Maybe it’s the sun?

But all doubt is gone when he kisses the crown of your head. He means it. He means it all. He means the cookies and the sunshine and sweetheart, not just sweetheart. And so you grin like an idiot, because you feel like one. You melt against him, then take your head off of his shoulder, then put your arms around him and hug him tightly.

“You’re smooth, Parker,” you whisper into his ear before pulling back and cupping his cheeks while looking into his loving gaze.

“C’mere and find out,” he murmurs and kisses you gently, enveloping you in his arms, his warmth, his sweetness.

♡

this is my first time writing a fanfic, i’ll get better at it <3 thank you so much for reading, let me know if you see any mistakes!!

#peter parker #tasm peter parker #peter parker x reader #tasm! peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker #tasm peter x reader #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm peter x you #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm! peter parker fluff #tasm x reader #tasm x you

720 notes · View notes

vole-mon-amour · 2 years

Text

7x02.

It's the team in the background watching as Spencer tells JJ how he feels (and I'm glad they didn't brush this off & showed that he actually has feelings. That he's not only the golden boy that never experiences anger or doesn't get mad at people) & then their faces & expressions are revealed. I love how everybody watches Spencer leaving, then turn to JJ, but David keeps watching Spencer.

I dislike the implication of only JJ calling Spencer "Spence" even in the darkest moments, as if they're the only ones that are this close. As if Derek isn't canonically best friend with Spencer & as if Spencer didn't trust his darkest secrets to Derek & didn't seek help from him way before he could open up to any of the team ("You told Hotch?? I told you, not Hotch!")

As much as I wanted JJ back, I dislike where this is going. JJ crying feels fake & kind of manipulating (because we once saw her faking it & we know how good of an actress she is). I rather headcanon Spencer coming to literally any of the team members rather than to JJ. To Derek, because Derek was also losing it, and them crying together (I'm serious). To Hotch & Hotch not budging, comforting him the best he can (remember, he's one of the dads of this team & an actual dad). And, finally, Spencer coming to David & David listening, and hugging him, and holding his hand until he can't anymore. Until one dark night Spencer sleeps at their (David and Aaron's) house & David & Spencer talk. But David breaks and provides the evidence of Emily being alive, but does in a very careful way—that Spencer doesn't need to search for Emily, that he doesn't tell anyone, but he is content & it doesn't hurt as much. After all, if Aaron is calling the shots, David can take this to Aaron. Maybe Aaron agreed. Maybe he doesn't. But they make it easier for Spencer. Idk, one of the canon divergences I have rn.

And, like, listen, I GET it. I get how Aaron told to Derek that it wasn't about them, but about Emily's safety. But that's why we have fanfiction. That's why I can go there. And frankly, ten weeks? I had nightmares about my dad being alive after he died. For months I blamed him in my dreams, I blamed his wife for not telling me when he started showing up alive. I clung to him. I wept. I screamed. Then he started disappearing for longer periods of time again (it's a process). I can genuinely imagine what Spencer is going through & why he is so mad at JJ, and how hard it is on him. There's Aaron's fault in that, too, I'd feel betrayed (basically, the way Derek felt), but if JJ didn't have the decency to tell him, that's cruel. Again, at least I think Aaron would've been able to tell him since he's the one who's decided that.

I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about this scene. And in no way I support JJ/Spencer. Ew. Just ew.

Here's another one to support my theory about David caring about Spencer so much & eventually helping him out.

THIS. How do I stop just for a moment and write it, omg. Such a good concept—both David and Aaron caring for Spencer (but Aaron trying to protect JJ in the process. He's a good dad. He really is. He tries to be fair when he can.)

Dad teaching his son. <3 For real though, David sharing his experience and knowledge with Spencer is always nice to see. (Spencer's shirt is so... bright? That's unusual.)

These two brainstorming together. <3

That's why I wanted Emily back. She's emphatic. She gets it. She genuinely cares. Seaver was anything but & I'm glad that she's gone.

Oooh, an interesting angle, positions, and the lightning.

Cy is terrifying, though. My granny's sister had a son like this (not a serial killer but mentally ill (which, for the record, doesn't make mentally ill people bad, not at all) that loved cornering me and scaring me and grabbing me. I was just a kid and no one would do anything about that) & I hated every second when I was left alone with him.

It's the sudden change in David's hair colour, especially under the lightning. It's not the brown under the direct light, but visibly grey. His temples slowly greying, too. His brows, his beard. But then he's out in the sunlight & it's mostly gone. I find interesting how dark David's hair was for a bit, then the grey started showing, and now we're slowly going towards silver fox x) I feel like the creators either made Joe to dye his hair or he did it himself for a bit, since in 3x06 his hair wasn't as dark as it was later during the show. Idk, I love noticing those changes. I love those watching this kind of close-ups.

This is cute. Derek and JJ sleeping next to each other. Dave is probably napping, too. Aaron sitting like THAT and doing his own thing, but still close to the team. I love this family. Yes, despite me not liking or disagreeing with some things they individually do, I still love them so much. I can always turn to them & they will always make me feel good. They ARE my family.

I find it very interesting that Spencer is more mad at JJ than at Emily. He's more awkward with Emily, but doesn't refuse to talk to her. With JJ he really is angry & doesn't want to be near her or talk to her.

On the other hand, Spencer still gives Emily the cold shoulder, "I don't know. I'm not so sure I can make it." & Emily's smile completely disappearing. You can't laugh this one off, Emily.

"Look, Reid, I know you're mad at us because we didn't tell you what really happened, and I understand that. But I promise you, we had no choice." It's interesting how she also tries to protect JJ. She could've easily went, "She had no choice" or "I had no choice". But no, it's "us".

I definitely wish it'd take Spencer more than one episode to come to the terms of forgiving JJ and Emily, since at the end he shows up all beaming & as if nothing ever happened. I totally understand it was meant for Emily's protection, but that doesn't mean he should've moved on so quickly. I'd watch Spencer coming to terms with that for longer, struggling, and then finally forgiving them. Just one more episode. Just one.

#cm #spencer reid #david rossi #moreid #emily prentiss #writing ideas #natiswatching #anti ashley seaver #jemily #aaron hotchner #jennifer jareau #anti jeid

52 notes · View notes

khaleesiofalicante · 5 months

Note

“Then what do you want to watch?”

“I don’t know. Actual cinema!” Max groans, straddling David and pulling at his t-shirt. He glares at his blue eyes. “What about The Joker?”

“Ugh.”

“Goodwill Hunting.”

“No.”

“Pulp Fiction. Come on. Shit is a classic!”

“Ew.”

“Daaaaaaavid,” Max whines.

“How about the Titanic?”

“It’s fucking depressing!” Max groans. “Anything but a romcom. Please.”

Bitch do you think titanic is a romcom? ITS A TRAGEDY that's real cinema!

Oh damn Max is a cinephile dude🙄🙄 I literally study television directing and production but I still hate cinephiles dudes JUST ENJOY THE SILLY FUCKING MOVIE

Do you know what I consider real cinema? A short film made by students that is about two argentinean heroes who are in love THAT IS REAL CINEMA

I personally think it's hilarious that a cinephile like Max ends up David who likes cheesy movies with trashy plots and just lots of mushy feelings.

LIKE IMAGINE HAVING TO LIVE WITH THAT WHEN YOU'RE FAVE MOVIE IS THE MATRIX AND PULP FICTION I-

#and that short film sounds amaaaaazing #mavid

5 notes · View notes

milflewis · 2 years

Note

makkinen + haunting

was going to make this angsty but bitchy michael n long suffering but amused af mika wouldn’t get out of my head so here you go my love <3

There’s a loud pop bang of what sounds like a balloon and David screams in the room next to his, loud and high, echoing through the thin walls. Mika sighs, kicking off his shoes, already folding down a corner of his page.

There’s laughter outside, footsteps coming closer, solid and quiet and familiar as his own, before his door swings open. Michael slips in, hair messy, breathing a little heavy. He turns, leaning back against the door and startles a little when he spots Mika.

Mika raises an eyebrow at him, at his shirt that stretches right across his chest, creased around his hips.

“Hey,” Michael says, hand running through his hair, flexing, all faux casual and easy charm, pretending as of this was the plan along. Not for the first time, Mika hates how much it works on him. You don’t deserve me being so easy for you, Mika thinks. It’d do you good to work for it. He lets Michael away with it though, like he lets him away with most stuff, off track at least anyway.

“Was looking for you.” Michael grins, loose and wide, lingering in his eyes. Mika hums. “In DC’s motorhome?”

Michael shrugs, wandering over. His hips sway a little as he walks and Mika rolls his eyes. Subtle.

“I got lost. It's a bit confusing out there. You should put up signs.”

“I’ll get right on that,” Mika says idly, watching Michael strip off his shirt, toe off his shoes, mess his hair up a little more. He climbs on top of Mika, long limbs graceful even in his rush, pushing aside Mika’s book. Heat pools in Mika’s stomach as Michael pulls at his hair, ruffling it, tugging Mika’s ear with a smile. Mika’s hands find his waist, thumb settling in the cut of his hips.

He rolls his eyes again when Michael tries to shove Mika’s shirt off, scrunching it up at his shoulders. “Can I help you?”

Michael hums, shifting around, pulling and messing with the blankets on Mika’s couch. He’s grinning as Mika twitches, arching his back a little, chasing the contact. “Yeah, you can. Mind taking that off?”

Mika narrows his eyes. Michael’s got that smug look to him, mouth curled up at the edges, not bothering to hide it, as if all his plans are coming together and then some. David can still be heard cursing loudly outside. Mika can make out the words bastard and fucking arsehole thinks he’s so funny and blond German prick.

“Nah,” Mika relaxes into his couch, folding his arms behind his head, shirt still all bunched up around his chest. Michael’s eyes flicker from his hands to his wrists to his biceps and back to his face, smiling. “I think I’m good here.”

“Yeah,” Michael murmurs, voice low, hands trailing up from the sheets to Mika’s stomach, palm flat and hot along his ribs. “You are.”

He leans down, pressing a kiss to the right of Mika’s belly button where there’s a faint little chicken pox scar that Mika hadn’t even noticed was there until they had sex for the first time years ago and Michael pointed it out. He kisses him again, waiting, mouth unforgivably soft. He settles further into his knees, sitting back on Mika’s hips, half hard against Mika.

“I know what you’re doing,” Mika says. “I’m not getting in the middle of you and David and whatever you’re up to.”

“Ew,” Michael says, scrunching up his nose. “Thanks for that mental picture.” He laughs then, Mika’s lamp light catching on his lashes as he leans down, hands by Mika’s face. “He said I don’t scare him.”

“Oh, yeah?” Mika murmurs, Michael’s nose brushing against his. Mika wants to put his hands on Michael’s back, feel the stretch curve of his spine, the way he arches into. He leaves his hands where they are. He refuses to be the one who blinks first.

“Yeah,” Michael says, breath hot and smelling of juice and mint on his face. “He was wrong.” He shifts his thigh as he kisses Mika, pressing down, swallowing Mika’s groan.

Mika pushes back against him, Michael’s body an unmoving long line of muscle and heat. Michael bites at his lip, one hand in Mika’s hair, tilting his head further back into the cushions, licking into his mouth. Mika lets his legs fall open wider, stretching Michael’s thighs, leaving him a little unbalanced as Mika steadies him. Michael pulls away, shaping his mouth against Mika’s jaw, swiping his tongue along along it, wet and warm and slightly disgusting. Mika is too busy rocking into Michael’s leg to care.

“Oi!”

Their door swings open again. David barging in, face red, one fist shoved into a pocket, the other hand pointing at Michael. Mika’s stomach goes cold, softening a little when David is quick to kick the door shut behind him.

Stupid, Mika thinks. Stupid, stupid, Michael never locked the door behind him.

Michael laughs into Mika’s neck, heated puffs of air tickling the kiss wet skin there.

Oh.

“Can we help you with something?” Michael says, turning a little to look the other man in the face, still half sprawled over Mika. “We’re a bit busy here, incase you haven’t noticed.”

Mika digs his fingers into Michael’s ribs in retaliation. He had told Michael not to involve him in this. Michael keeps grinning.

“You’re an asshole,” David says, jaw clenched.

Michael cocks his head to the side, mouth smug at its corners. “You look a bit…scared, DC. You alright?”

David stares at him for a moment before grabbing the nearest thing, Mika’s bag, and throwing it at them. Michael ducks, it hitting the wall, towels falling out of it and behind the couch.

Mika sighs, letting his head fall back, breathing in deep so he doesn’t laugh at David’s face, eyes closing.

“Stay the fuck out of my motorhome,” David snaps, slamming the door behind him, feet hard and loud as he walks away.

“Well,” Michael says, voice bright, hands soft in Mika’s hair. “I think that went pretty good.”

Mika opens one eye, Michael’s grin the first thing he sees. You’re a dick, he thinks and the thought is fond and quiet and careful. I think I might actually be in love with you.

“I’m thinking of some kind of ghost or zombie thing next time. Halloween is coming up and I’m feeling a haunting theme.”

“Michael,” Mika says in the way that he always says Michael’s name when he wants Michael to listen to him. Michael blinks, looking at him, fingers stilling on Mika’s sternum.

Mika slides his hand up from Michael’s neck to hold the base of his skull, hair soft and short between his fingers.

“Shut up,” Mika says, pulling Michael in, who laughs against Mika’s mouth before pressing into him, all muscle and warmth and light fingers. Mika kisses him quiet, rolling them over, pulling at Michael’s hair to appease him when the other man grumbles.

#makkinen my beloved. thank u naila for this. i loved writing it #stuff i wrote #f1 rpf fic #naila tag #fic.asks #niamh.asks

19 notes · View notes

queen-haq · 2 years

Text

Alive - Part 4

Summary: Aidan traced the thin chain around his neck, rubbing the infinity pendant between his fingers. No longer a symbol of their everlasting love, it was something he touched in anger when he thought of Sage. It was the only thing of hers that still remained with him after eight years, the last possession which still connected them together. When he 4did find Sage again, and he would no matter how long it took, he planned to destroy the pendant - and her.

Taking place across two timelines, Alive tells the story of Aidan and Sage, high school sweethearts driven apart by who they are and where they come from. Once enemies then lovers, their relationship runs full circle when they meet again in the present, now prepared to destroy each other.

My Masterlist (contains links to previous parts)

Sage sat on the outside bleachers with her friends, watching the soccer team practice in preparation for the big game later that week. While Tara was intently watching the action, critiquing the players' strengths and weaknesses, Anna and David were simply there for the eye candy. Just like Sage.

"Does Theo walk around the house like that?" Anna asked.

Sage glanced over at her half-brother. Theo had removed his jersey, revealing a muscular upper body. "Ew."

"Are you kidding me? He's fine," David added in a wistful tone.

It was on the tip of her tongue that Theo was her brother when she remembered they didn't know the truth. "Guess he's not my type."

"Forget Theo," Anna said. "I want some of that."

Sage followed Anna's gaze and realised her friend was talking about Aidan. With his sun-kissed skin and sparkling eyes, he was perched in front of the net before leaping up high in the air to block the ball from going in. A wave of cheer erupted from a small crowd gathered on the other bleachers, consisting mostly of sophomore girls, and he flashed a bright smile in their direction. "Looks like he already has a fan club, babe."

"I wish Aidan would take his shirt off," Angela sighed.

"Yeah, I wouldn't mind that at all," David added.

Tara remained blissfully unaware of their conversation. "Westview has a pretty strong team but I think we have a good shot. As long as Theo and Aidan don't fuck it up."

"Sage, isn't Aidan always hanging out at your place? Is he back together with Cat?" Angela prodded.

"I don't know. I don't really talk to him."

"Ugh, what good are you?"

Sage chuckled.

"I heard Cat's dating someone else. Some guy from college. And Aidan is pissed about it," David said. "And she's planning on bringing him to the game on Friday night."

"Really?" Tara asked. "I hope Aidan doesn't get distracted by all that bullshit. He needs to focus on the game."

"Oh my God, will you just chill about the stupid game? Nobody actually cares about that shit, you know," Angela huffed.

As the group bickered over the importance of the game against their rivals, Sage focused her attention on Aidan. The top half of his uniform was drenched with sweat. His eyes, squinting under the glare of the hot sun, remained glued to the ball. Her thoughts turned to the scars on his body, and she wondered if his teammates ever questioned him about the wounds. They must have. How did Aidan explain the marks away? Or did he find some way to hide them when he was in the change room? No matter how much she tried not to think about his situation, she couldn't help herself. All her musings led to the realisation there was no way those scars were a result of a one-off fight. After all, this was Aidan. If he was involved in a brawl he'd be bragging about it instead of acting cagey as he'd done that night. Of course that meant there was something even more sinister going on with him, which was troubling.

David nudged her legs. "Chris and I are going out for dinner after the game. Want to come?"

"Yeah, sure."

She tore her gaze away from Aidan, and reminded herself to stop obsessing over him. They were not friends. She didn't even like him! And his problems were none of her business. Besides, her life was complicated enough – the last thing she needed was to borrow trouble.

***

After a long night, Sage was finally home and getting ready to hit the sheets. While she'd never been much of a sports enthusiast, watching the soccer game tonight with her friends had been a lot of fun. That was until their rivals made a comeback in the second half to score two goals, and beat the Belleville team in a heartwrenching upset. She was supposed to go for dinner with David and Anna but neither of them had been in the mood after that loss.

An hour later she was on the brink of sleep when someone knocked on the door. A quick glance at the clock revealed it was close to one in the morning. The only one who would show up at this time would be her dad, and only if it was an emergency. She jumped out of bed and rushed to answer it, except it wasn't Thomas waiting for her on the other side – it was Aidan.

The last time Sage had seen him was after the game, when a verbal fight broke out between Aidan and a player from Westview. Aidan had already been in a foul mood due to the loss, and being taunted by the other team certainly hadn't helped matters any. If it hadn't been for Theo dragging him away, she suspected there would have been a huge brawl right then and there. Now here he was, face twisted in pain. He was gripping the door frame like he was unable to stand on his own without support. "Aidan, what happened?"

"Can I come in?"

"Of course."

He limped inside, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and encouraged him to lean on her while they made their way towards her bed. When he finally sat down on one corner, grimacing in pain, she studied him closely. He wouldn't look at her, his gaze locked on the floor. There were no bruises on his face, but she knew, instinctively, his body was covered in them. That dreadful feeling returned to her stomach. As much as she wanted answers, now was not the time. He needed help and support right now, not an interrogation. Aidan was wearing his bomber jacket which she suspected was causing him added discomfort. Without asking she removed it from his shoulders, and then realised maybe she shouldn't have. It was intrusive to assume he needed help when he hadn't actually asked for it. Embarrassed, she took a step back. Her stomach clenched with anxiety at the devastated expression that still marked his features. She felt helpless. "What do you need, Aidan?"

It was a long time before he spoke. "I shouldn't have come here."

"Don't worry about it. Do you want me to get Theo? Cat? Tell me what to do."

"Just let me rest for a while?"

The tremor in his voice broke her heart. "Stay as long as you want."

Sage paced back and forth for several minutes, pondering her next move. It wasn't until the flicker of annoyance in his gaze that she recognised her fidgeting was probably making things worse. Finally she took a seat on the bed, her body partially turned towards him in case he needed anything.

After a while she reached out and hesitantly laid her hand on top of his. Her father had done the same when she sat next to her mom's bed in the hospital, staring at the lifeless body that once used to be such a vibrant personality. In that moment the simple gesture by Thomas had provided her with much needed comfort; she wanted to do the same for Aidan.

They sat there in silence, the air thick with tension as the minutes ticked by. It was difficult for her to remain still, to patiently wait for him to talk, but she reminded herself whatever he was going through was much bigger than her feelings.

Soon after, his fingers brushed her own. "Can you help me with my shirt?"

"Yeah, sure."

Sage moved to stand in front of him, aware of his keen gaze following her every action as she unbuttoned his shirt. Despite her best efforts not to betray any emotion, her fingers trembled as soon as she spotted the red, angry wounds on his chest. "Are you okay to walk to the bathroom? It'll be easier to clean up in there."

"Whatever you want, Florence Nightingale."

His attempt at humour was obviously for her benefit, and she didn't want to make things awkward by not playing along. "I'm surprised you even know who she is." He rose to his feet, and they walked to the bathroom together. His body weighed heavily against her own. She worried the physical contact would further aggravate his pain, but he didn't complain. Once inside, he sat on the edge of the bathtub while she searched for alcohol wipes and bandages in the medicine cabinet.

"Nightingale was a porn star, right? Did some porn as a sexy nurse?"

She returned his smile. "Something like that."

"You aspiring to be a porn star or a sexy nurse?"

"Shut up."

Kneeling down in front of him, she tended to his chest and stomach. At one point he hissed with pain, but when she checked on him he simply gave her a fake smile. He may not have asked, but she discerned she needed to be more gentle. After every swipe of the alcohol swab, she blew softly on his skin to ease the sting. Shortly after she jumped into the tub to clean the cuts on his back.

"Why are you helping me, Sage?"

Her hands paused as she pondered an answer for him. In the end, she went with the truth.

"I don't know."

"Not sure why I'm here either."

"Looks like we're in the same boat."

"Or tub."

She rolled her eyes at his lame joke.

They returned to the bedroom a bit later, and he kicked off his shoes before she helped him onto the bed.

"I'll leave soon, I promise," he said, leaning on the headboard behind for support.

"Don't be stupid. You can stay the night."

"How do I know you're not going to seduce me while I'm sleeping?"

"Guess you'll just have to risk it." About to walk away, she froze when he reached out to grab her elbow. The warmth of his skin against hers was strange, exhilarating, and entirely too intimate. As if experiencing the same awkwardness, he removed his hand immediately.

"I'm sorry for showing up here."

"I told you it was fine."

"I was an asshole to you." He hesitated, regarding her with an expression she didn't quite understand. "I'm sorry I said shit about your mom."

Remembering his disrespectful words from their first interaction unleashed a fresh wave of anger and hurt, and she leveled him with a hostile stare. "Don't ever insult her again."

"I won't. I swear."

His emphatic response gave her pause. He seemed genuinely regretful, and she found herself softening again. "Do you need anything else?"

"No."

She contemplated ignoring that little voice in her head that wanted answers. In the end, however, she couldn't. "Can I ask you something?" Panic flashed in his eyes, quickly replaced by a blank mask and she realised he didn't want to share what happened. "Never mind."

He exhaled a heavy sigh. "No, it's fine. I owe you that at least."

Careful not to touch him, she sat at the foot of the bed. "Is it your dad who does this to you?"

His eyes widened slightly. A multitude of emotions – anger, shock, embarrassment – flooded over his face while he squirmed under her observation. Even if he didn't say anything, she already had her answer. Her heart started pounding in her chest. "Have you ever told anyone?"

A bitter laugh escaped his throat. "Why would I do that?"

His attitude was perplexing. "Because what he's doing is wrong. Because he hurts you-"

"Only when I'm acting like a bitch." He shrugged his shoulders. "Or when I embarrass him, like I did tonight."

"Are you fucking kidding me? This isn't your fault!"

"Spare me the bullshit. I'm not some poor little rich kid.”

He glanced away, his lips pursed into a thin fine.

"Look at me, Aidan."

He obeyed, even as his chin jutted out defiantly. "What?"

"You're the biggest jackass I know. I think I hate you more than I've hated anyone before."

"This supposed to make me feel better?”

"No one deserves this kind of abuse, not even you. And this is coming from a person who can’t stand you."

There was a storm brewing in his eyes, the hazel in them transitioning into a hue so dark it was, frankly, intimidating. "Hate me that much, huh?"

"Just being honest. I don't see the point of sugar-coating things."

His lips shaped into a genuine smile. "Me neither. It's annoying."

"Then you know I'm telling the truth. You don't deserve this." Maybe it was a good thing he was silent. As much as she wanted to understand where he was coming from, his refusal to believe her was frustrating. "What he's doing is wrong. You get that, don't you?"

"It doesn't matter, anyway. He's leaving for New York tomorrow. I won't have to see him for a while."

"Until he comes home and decides to do it again," she pointed out. "I can help you, if you want."

"You already have."

"No, I don't mean like this. I... can talk to someone, get you the help you need." As soon as the words left her mouth, he started to scoot off the bed even while flinching. "Aidan, stop. What are you doing?" With one hand on his chest and the other wrapped around his shoulder, she blocked him from getting up.

"Get away from me. I don't want anything from you," he gritted through clenched teeth. "This is my life. You don't get to fuck with it!"

"He has to stop hurting you!"

"Why the hell did I think I could trust you?"

"Okay, okay. Calm down!" Using all her strength, she grappled his arms. "I won't say anything." He finally stilled, close to tears. Seeing him so distraught broke her heart; she reached up to cradle his face. "I won't, okay?"

"Swear to me."

"I promise." He scanned her face, his gaze piercing into her. At first he seemed to be gauging her sincerity but then something shifted, as if he was searching inside her for something she wasn't quite willing to give. Their close proximity, the intensity of his stare – it all left her feeling unsettled. Needing some distance, she urged him to sit back on the bed. "Get some sleep. You're probably exhausted."

"Where are you going?"

"I'll crash on the couch."

"You can sleep here with me."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

He offered her an amused smile. "You think I'm going to try and fuck you?"

"Maybe."

"You're not my type, remember?"

"Oh yeah, I forgot you like skinny blondes. How very diverse of you."

"Checking out my exes?"

She chuckled. Bantering with him was so much more easier – and comfortable – than having to deal with the tension that crept in between them. "If I sleep here, you swear to keep your hands to yourself?"

"Couldn't do much even if I wanted to."

"Well then, scoot over. Unlike your skinny exes, I take up space when I sleep."

"To be fair, they're usually on top of me. And not exactly sleeping."

"Yeah, yeah. Shut up."

He shifted over, allowing her to lie down next to him. Despite putting on a brave front earlier, Sage was now having second thoughts about sharing a bed with him. Something told her sleep wouldn't come easy tonight. "I'm going to leave the lights on."

"Okay."

Wringing her hands together, she stared up at the ceiling.

"I think you need new pyjamas."

She smiled, surprised it had taken him this long to comment on them. Torn and tattered, they were her favourite pair. She had spent many a Sunday mornings in them, lazing around the apartment with her mom. "I think you need to shut up."

"If you want to take them off, I'm okay with it. I just want you to be comfortable."

"So sweet of you.”

"Hey, I’m a sweet guy.”

"No wonder you have so many girls throwing themselves at you."

"Well that, and because I'm hot."

"And humble."

His soft chuckle helped alleviate some of her stress.

"You really hate this place, don't you?" he asked.

"Not all the time."

"Just when Cat goes after you?"

"I can handle her. It's her friends I can't stand, especially when they start with that terrorist shit."

"Don't let them get to you."

"Easier said than done."

"They're idiots."

"They're ignorant. You'd think they'd be smart considering the advantages they've had."

"You think money makes people smarter? Come on, you know better than that."

"Yeah, you're right." She sighed. "Cat hates me for what my parents did. Her friends hate me for being Muslim. I just... I'm not used to being hated for things beyond my control."

"Hey."

He tapped her shoulder. She turned towards him. Despite the lack of physical contact between them, she was keenly aware of his presence.

"I can help you, you know. I can fuck them up so bad they'd be too worried about themselves to come after you."

It was not an idle threat, having been the target of his viciousness. There was darkness in him, capable of brutality, and it simultaneously intrigued and terrified her. "No, don't get involved."

"Why not?"

"Because I can take care of myself. I don't need your help."

Although his eyes flashed with irritation, he didn't argue. "Fine. But I'm here if you change your mind."

"Got it."

As they lay beside one another, eyes locked, with only a few inches of space separating them, it was all too much for her. It was easier sniping with him, or even engaging in small talk, but with Aidan's concentration fully on her and nothing to distract her from his penetrating gaze, she felt on edge. Abruptly, she turned her back to him.

"Have you met him yet?" he asked.

"Who?"

There was a brief pause before he responded. "Cat's new boytoy."

Of course he would be jealous, it was only natural as he still held feelings for his ex-girlfriend, but it still bothered Sage – and she didn't want to think about what that implied. "No. Even if I did, I wouldn't tell you anything. I'm not a narc."

"No need to get pissy. I was just curous."

"Whatever.”

"Theo doesn't think you're all that bad."

That definitely surprised her. “Really?” Sage smiled. "At least not everyone hates me."

"I don't either."

She chose to ignore the solemnity of his voice. "Does he know... about your dad?"

Aidan tensed again, his tone bordering on acerbic. "He would never say anything. I trust him."

But was silence the right approach? How could it be considering someone was hurting Aidan? Maybe Theo wanted to seek help but Aidan had forced him to remain silent, just like with her.

"Do you miss it?" he asked.

"What?"

"Your old life."

"Yeah," she breathed softly. "A lot. I wish," she waited, trying to swallow the lump in her throat, "my mom was still alive."

"But that's never going to happen, Sage. Things would probably be a lot easier if you just accept that."

Silence filled the air once again, and she pondered the strange circumstances they were in. Aidan was the one who was hurt and in need of comfort, yet he was consoling her. Maybe he did act like a jerk most of the time but there was a side to him that was sweet and gentle. If only he didn't insist on hiding it.

Soon fatigue took over, and she relaxed enough to fall asleep.

***

Loud bursts of laughter from the pool woke her up the next morning. At first she didn't move, remembering Aidan had slept beside her. Would things be more awkward between them in the bright light of day, she wondered. When she opened her eyes, however, the space next to her was empty. Sitting up, she scanned the room for his things and found them all gone. A heavy sigh escaped her lips. His leaving was probably for the best. After all, how would she explain his presence in her room if they were to be caught? And if Cat were the one to discover them, her half-sister would hate her even more.

There were many good reasons Sage should have been thankful he'd left – yet she couldn't help but feel disappointed.

#original fic #original romance #enemies to lovers #romance novels #romance #alive #my fics

12 notes · View notes