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#i had to write it down before i forget!!!
sunlightmurdock · 1 day
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hands to yourself | dilf bradley bradshaw x nanny!reader (18+)
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surprised with an afternoon to himself, bradley takes advantage of the alone-time, thinking about the woman he can’t have.
warnings: shameless pwp, bradley is down bad for his nanny and hasn’t touched himself — or anyone — in a long ass time. masturbation, pining, swearing, fantasising about oral and such. voyeurism, kinda, he gets walked in on. I may write a part two for this but idk yet. I just needed to write a lil smth about him touching himself. Wc: 3k
this is the lingerie set I was thinking of but imagine whatever ya like x
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Bradley drops his keys into the bowl by the door, they land with a stark rattle. The faint tan-line between his brows disappears into the crease that caused it as he frowns. He looks towards the stairs, and then wanders in the living room. His boots tap softly against the floor.
“Kids?” He calls out into the unfamiliar quiet.
Nothing. His eyes widen in slight panic, pushing his sunglasses up into his hair as he looks around him. The floor is spotless — their toys are stored neatly in their bins, there aren’t any new stains on his rug, and there aren’t any cartoons on his television.
The sound of his boots on the ground are unnerving; he can’t bring himself to admit that he misses the sounds of chaos he usually returns to. He wanders through the house, making a beeline for the backyard. Sunny day like this, he figures that’s where he’ll find them.
Nothing. The yard is completely empty beside the laundry hanging out to dry. His mouth feels dry.
Once the mid-day mind fog dissipates, Bradley’s panic starts to, too. That birthday party. You’d mentioned it twice this week already, and once this morning. He’s just forgetful at the minute — — you know how crazy work has been for him.
He pauses, standing in his unusually clean living room, and purses his lips. His hands come to rest on his hips while he looks around him. He isn’t used to this.
Usually, within seconds of him walking through the door, he’s got a kid attached to his leg or a fight to break up or a permission slip to sign.
There’s nothing that he needs to do.
Nothing urgent.
Nobody else home.
Lifting his wrist, he takes a quick glance down at his watch and considers what to do with his sudden freedom. Birthday parties take a couple of hours, right?
He takes one final look around him, his eyes catching on the laundry drying outside. Clipped to the line is a power-blue balconette bra. He’s seen it before. The day he accidentally walked in on you.
Since you moved in four months ago, Bradley has been especially careful about knocking first. He wishes he could say it’s because he’s a gentleman. Really, it’s just because it made it hard enough for him to keep his hands to himself the first time.
There had been a heatwave that week. You had the afternoon off but Bradley hadn’t been able to find the sunscreen, and his kids are damn near impossible to keep out of the sunlight. With them arguing downstairs and trying to figure out the lock to let themselves out, he just wasn’t thinking and he hadn’t knocked.
“Hey, do you know where you put the—“ He’d stopped, frozen, taking in the sight of you sprawled across your bed. His bed. The bed he gave to you when you got the job of living here. A red popsicle between your lips and a book propped open in front of you, wearing nothing but a powder-blue set.
“Oh—“ Your eyes had gone all wide and surprised, too shocked to move, just like him.
The only thing that reminded him that he even had the option to move was the sound of his son running up the stairs to hurry this process along. He had slammed the door shut, blushing furiously, and turned to face his eldest.
“Found it, dad! It was in my backpack.” Grinning, he had held up the bottle of sunscreen and Bradley had just been forced to continue with his afternoon like he hadn’t seen anything at all.
When he finally peels his eyes away from the line of drying clothes outside, his gaze lands on the basket of dried and folded laundry sitting on his kitchen counter ready to be put away. Sitting right on top, is a glossy looking pair of blue panties that match the bra on the line.
Bradley’s already been kicking himself for his behavior since you got here. It’s downright shameful, the things he lets himself think about you. You’re half his age, first off. Second -- he’s your boss. You live in his house. His kids think you’re their best friend.
They think you’re just here because you love hanging out with them so much, not because their mommy and daddy couldn’t get along for the life of them and daddy works too much.
His mouth waters. Staring at some blue lace in a laundry hamper and his mouth’s practically watering. He’s pathetic. His guy friends keep telling him he needs to get back in the game, start moving on — he hadn’t been so sure. But then, he’s never almost popped a hard-on over a thong in a pile before.
He can picture you so perfectly in them. Your round ass barely covered by the material, legs kicked up behind you and your ankles crossed. When he closes his eyes, he can picture you facing the other way. Your face toward the headboard, your ass right in front of him.
His slacks grow tighter as his neglected cock stirs to life. It occurs to him that he can’t remember the last time he jerked off. Maybe sometime before his middle kid got the flu? — Around a month ago, maybe. His nights since then had been primarily spent clearing up puke.
The sad part is, the thought only tends to occur to him when he’s at work. Home is always far too hectic. For a while now, he’s been stuck working late into the night with a boner while he’s flicking through candidate paperwork and flight logs.
Well, he’s thinking about it now, and he’s got the place all to himself. No locking himself in the bathroom and letting the shower run, trying to think of anything but the growing list of chores he has to do to keep this house functioning.
He swallows thickly.
He’ll tell the guys that they’re right. He needs to get back into the game; get his head on right, stop pining over his nanny. Tomorrow. For now, he lifts his hand and takes the underwear, smoothing the sheer mesh between his index and thumb. Closing his eyes, he hopes that you won’t notice they’re gone before he can return them.
He twists the cap off of an ice cold beer, leaves his boots neatly by the door and walks calmly upstairs. From there, he clicks his bedroom door shut and steadily takes himself out of his uniform, dropping it into his laundry hamper.
Finally, he settles down against his headboard with his phone in his hand and your panties in his lap.
Porn will make this better. It’s less weird if he’s not necessarily picturing your face. It’s not — but he might have a better chance at looking you in the eye later if he tells himself that.
Not that any of this feels exactly regular.
He inhales and shifts, and scrolls. Birds are still tweeting outside, singing early afternoon songs. His teeth nip at the inside of his cheek as he scrolls aimlessly until he finds a thumbnail that looks halfway doable.
All alone, the house feels especially quiet when the first moan spills from the speakers. He flinches at the sound and scrambles for the volume button, then hesitates. He doesn’t have to be quiet. He doesn’t even have to be ashamed. Shit, it’s a little late for that.
His brows knit together a bit, cocking his head as he examines the babbling girl on the phone screen. His hand stirs to life from where it had gone limp on his thigh, finding his cock through the grey fabric of his boxers. With one last cautious glance to his closed bedroom door, the silence beyond it confirms to him that he’s okay.
Wetting his lips with his tongue, he strokes himself over the material. The video isn’t particularly interesting, not when Bradley’s head can fill itself with far more interesting material at whim. His mind starts to wander back to that dream he’d had of you in the nurses outfit— that one had hit him hard, literally. He could barely look in your direction without getting hard for two days.
Soon enough, he’s hard and straining against the briefs. But that’s thinking about you, and that’s not allowed. He shifts restlessly and goes back to scrolling, palming himself absently. Finally, he comes across a video that sparks something. The thumbnail is of a girl with swollen lips and a cock in her mouth. It’ll do.
There we go. He huffs, that red-hot desperate feeling spreading down his neck and covering his shoulders. Making like it’s going to swallow him whole. Bradley lifts his hips to shuck down his boxers, tucking the waistband under his balls, still prepared for a hasty recovery at the sound of the garage door opening or something. He glances down at himself, remembering the days his thighs were narrower and more taut and he wasn’t noticing grey in his pubes.
If he wanted this done quick and fast, he’d spit hard into the centre of his palm and get to work. It’s been a long time since it hasn’t had to be quick. He thinks he has— he turns a bit and pulls open the drawer of his bedside table, rummaging blindly at the back until he comes up with what he’s looking for — lube. It’s practically full, not like he has been using it much.
A drop in the middle of his hand is enough, he figures. Turning his attention back to this new video, he settles, cupping the weight of his shaft in the palm of his hand. He gives it one slow pump, following the length, coating himself a bit. Real slow, his eyes study the screen, working the lubricant against his skin.
The actress bobs her mouth around the on-screen cock enthusiastically, moaning around him, raking her fingertips along his thighs. He locks his fist around himself, warm and tight, wet. It’s not a mouth but it’s the closest he has felt in a long time. If he closes his eyes, it could be your mouth.
You’d take him slowly, at first, ease him into it with that taunting nature you’ve let him glimpse at. He wouldn’t close his eyes; wouldn’t take ‘em off you. His hand steadies into a lazy rhythm, picturing the way you’d look up at him through your lashes.
The way you’d suck, and flick your tongue across his swollen tip. He shivers as he swipes his thumb through the precum beading there, stroking it all the way back down, stuck on imagining what it would feel like with your saliva joining the mix.
A pleased, feminine hum of approval comes from his phone and Bradley’s body responds just as eagerly, his hips twitching into the thrust of his palm. Sweat beads at his forehead as he slows to the point of almost stopping, dragging this out — making a point of exploiting his time alone.
He blinks hazily and finds a glimpse of blue, remembering suddenly the souvenir he had taken. The pitiful scrap of fabric he’s so wound up over sits against his thigh, looking suddenly small in comparison to his cock. He lets himself go and grabs hold of the fabric firmly, balling it tightly in his fist.
The soft lace bristles at his palm. Freshly laundered, they don’t smell of anything but detergent. It plays to the weaker side of him, gnawing at him, leaving him desperate to have something beyond what’s in his head. To know your smell, your tastes, your sounds. He shudders as he wraps a hand snugly around himself once more, this time, with an added layer of lace and soft mesh.
His head falls backwards, mouth hanging. Like this, it’s even easier to pretend. The image of you straddling his thighs, rocking your pussy against him while wearing nothing but these has him finally relaxed. Zen, even. A groan dies in his through, coming out more as a deep and baited sigh. He lift his hips, fucking into his fabric tangled fist.
Sometime between picking up your panties and now, the video has moved on without him, the blowjob forgotten. If he was to open his eyes, he would find that she’s on her back, being fucked into a mattress. He doesn’t need to. Stars burst behind his eyelids as he steadies up to the rhythm of her moans, skin hitting skin.
You’ve been living here four months now and you haven’t stayed out once. He wonders if you’re as wound up as he is. If you’ve thought about him the way he thinks of you. How downright desperate you’d sound moaning against his pillows while he finally gets to feel you. His left hand jumps, grabbing a firm fistful of the sheets beside him.
The shame he feels has been checked at the door, he lets himself think that you might have looked at him, that you might want him. He chases the feeling, his chest heaving with heavy breaths. Pumping the blue mesh around his cock, imagining you rocking yourself on him. Something gentler, more spry. It feels good. You’d feel good.
His imagination is better than he gave himself credit for.
His wrist twitches and he slows, feeling his thighs tighten as his heels press into his mattress for leverage. He chokes out a sound that he won’t admit is closer to a whimper than anything else, panting hard as he lets the rush ebb a bit. Pursing his lips, he draws out a slow exhale.
His mouth hangs open, eyes dipping to watch himself loosen up with the material, finding himself with just his bare palm once again. He takes the blue fabric in his left, opening it up and examining the dampened marks of his precum and the lube.
Just like that, he’s back in the guest room — your room — and you’re wearing that blue set. It’s dampened like this, but not because he has made a mess of it, not yet. Because you have. You’re soaking through it, looking up at him with that awe-struck look on your face. Your mouth open wide but this time there’s no red popsicle.
“Fuck.”
“Shit.” You whisper, catching the diaper bag that had almost fallen from your shoulder as you cradle the sleeping infant against your chest. Quiet as a mouse, you click open the front door and toe off your shoes.
She’s dead-weight in your arms, probably drooling on your shoulder. Her two older siblings will be causing all kinds of mischief and consuming sugar in all of its forms at their cousin’s birthday party for the next three hours. Given that the party lines up almost exactly with the fifteen-month-old’s nap routine, you figured you would take her home to rest so that you could get around to putting away that laundry you had started.
You’ve got a thousand things on your mind. A million things to do before Bradley gets home that evening. Truthfully, you’re a thousand miles away as you stroll upstairs and walk to the far end of the hall to the nursery. You lay her down and adjust the baby monitor, setting up her white noise machine routinely.
Her bedroom door clicks shut behind you and you take a moment to consider your priorities. Laundry takes precedence, even though you want so desperately to crawl into bed and sleep for an hour. You huff, groaning to yourself as you walk back downstairs to find the basket you had abandoned.
As you round the stairs and walk through the hallway, a choked sound spills from under the wood of Bradley’s door, something deep and breathless. Already halfway to the kitchen, you don’t hear a thing.
The video stopped a while ago but Bradley had stopped watching it even earlier. His head is thrown back and his lips are parted, his features creased in concentration as he chases his high. He thrusts into his fist, white-knuckling your panties with his free hand, his heart thundering in his chest. “God, fuck.”
He doesn’t have a clue that he isn’t alone anymore. He didn’t hear the minivan, he didn’t hear the front door. He doesn’t hear you rush back up the stairs with the hamper hiked against your hip.
He walked in on you. He stopped, and he stared. You were interrupted, so you can’t blame him for slamming the door shut. He’d missed, or ignored the signals since. The looks, the touches, staying up with him until your eyelids are so heavy that they’re barely open because he’s kind of an insomniac. Nothing. You’ve been beyond curious, desperate to know if he has been blowing you off on purpose or if he’s just clueless.
Clueless yourself, armed to put away freshly folded t-shirts, you grab the door handle and push it open. He works late, always. He’s rarely home before bedtime on work days. He told you this morning that he’d try not to wake you when he came in. And yet — there he is.
You get a glimpse of him before he registers the click of the door, before he spots you. Brows furrowed, eyes screwed shut, his curls dampened and hugging his forehead. Sunlight catches on the beads of sweat as they trail his glistening middle, spilling across his strong, softened middle. Broad shoulders flexed, the veins in his right arm straining through the skin, fucking his palm.
He reacts quickly, but there’s little that can be done. His eyes spring open and his hand releases himself, his body flushing a deeper shade of red at once. Thighs spread, he doesn’t have much time to cover himself before the door whips shut again.
You press your back to the door, staring at the ceiling. On either sides of it, you each have a moment of silent consideration.
“… are you okay?” He asks weakly.
He gets a soft squeak of acknowledgement as an answer and starts to wonder how you’ll ever be able to talk to him again. God, he hopes you don’t quit. The kids love you, and you’re incredible, you make his life liveable. His mind races, trying to come up with some kind of way to fix what you just saw. Everyone masturbates, it’s normal, it’s healthy—
“Was— Was that my underwear?”
Shit, Bradley thinks, he’s done for. There’s no coming back from this. You’re going to tell every nanny in the state that he’s a creep and work is going to eat him alive while he tries to juggle three kids alone. He curses breathlessly, fixing his underwear to cover himself and pushing himself out of bed.
He’s stuck for a second, considering if it would be better to give you time or to go after you. His eyes widen as the door clicks again, and pushes slowly open.
Your eyes rake over him, standing tall at the foot of his bed in nothing but his boxer-briefs. Still, regrettably, balled into his left hand, is your underwear. Powder-blue. He follows your gaze and looks down at the fabric, cursing his own stupidity, wondering if it’s too late to drop them.
You wet your lips with your tongue as your gaze flickers across. He closes his eyes and wills it to go away — he had just been so close, so caught up in it. It’s still rock hard, straining against the grey fabric, dampened at the tip with a spot of precum.
All of those signals and efforts come to a head. After four months of pining, you can’t just wander downstairs like this never happened. Laundry can wait. “You want a hand?”
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tags: @royal-sunflower @redbarn1995 @atarmychick007 @jessicab1991 @seitmai @bellaireland1981 @roosterbruiser @tenderly-hopeful-collection @bradshawsbaddie @tgmavericklover @cevansbaby-dove @lyn-js @mynameismckenziemae @perpetuelledaydreaming @diorrfairy @sparklehippie17 @heatherbabees @prettiewittie @forgiveliv @oleksiak-pettersson @illegalxhood @fantasticpeacestarfish @rockstxr-x @d0main-expansion @diorsmores @mydarlingrose @sticksticklettuxe @alrightyyaphrodite @bowchickawowowww @aquafairy777 @eternallyvenus @maxwell-era @devil-angel-winchester @roosterishot @rosiahills22 @literally-iconic @brinaaa10 @foggyturtleknightangel @a-serene-place-to-be @aragorn-02 @sunflowercharlie13
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barzysunflower · 21 hours
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can we get a barzy smut (ur wearing his cowboy hat, doing it on the kitchen counter)
save a horse, ride a cowboy – mb
wc: 1.9k
cw: SMUT (18+)!!!, dirty talk, cowboys 🤠
note: I knoooooow I’m supposed to be working on other things but at least I’m writing again!!! hopefully more coming soon!!! love you guys & thanks for the support 🫶🏼 reblogs & comments appreciated
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“Alright, cowboy. I’m ready. Let’s go.” After over an hour of getting ready you finally stepped out of the bathroom ready for your night out. Mat and your friends were going out tonight to a bull riding event that came to New York only once a year. Your recent obsession with cowboys had you giddy for the night all day long. You had broken in your new cowboy boots for weeks specially for tonight. Your boyfriend had the same idea with his cowboy hat. Which looked absolutely sexy on top of his mess of hair. You’d been fantasizing for a while about riding him with his hat on. But that would wait for after the show.
You found Mat sitting on the couch on his phone with his black cowboy hat on his head. “Finally,” he said, putting his phone away, looking up at you. You could see his breath hitch as his eyes dragged over your body, slowly, up and down, then up again to meet your eyes. They narrowed slightly as he pulled his lower lip between his teeth.
You grinned and spun around in a circle, giving him the full view of the outfit. The white oversized linen blouse that was held together in the front by only two strings, with a red lace bra underneath, the tight black miniskirt with an oversized western belt and the star of the show, your cherry red cowboy boots. “Good?”
“Fuck,” was all he muttered, before lifting his hand to rake his hand through his hair, which knocked the cowboy hat of his head he forgot he was wearing. He was frozen in place so you took to few steps it took to get to him, leaning over a little too closely to give a little peak and picked the hat up, setting it on your intentional wavy mess of hair.
“Now I’m ready.” You stroked his cheek and winked at him before walking to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. Mat immediately jumped up and followed you to the kitchen where he came up to you from behind to pull you into his body by your hips. His lips latched onto your neck, pressing soft wet kisses along it while his big hand slipped underneath your open blouse over your stomach keeping you in place against him.
“We gotta go,” you hummed leaning more into his touch. You really did have to go, but the warmth that spread throughout your body was terribly good at letting you forget that fact.
“I don’t care,” Mat mumbled back, still working your neck and jawline while sliding his hands over your body.
“We’re gonna miss the opening show,” you tried again, but there wasn’t much care behind your words either.
“I’d much rather bend you over the counter and fuck you all night long.” A little gasp escaped you at his words. “And you know what they say, you wear the hat you ride the cowboy.”
You couldn’t argue with that logic and let him spin you around and kiss you breathlessly. The hat was knocked of your head when he pressed you into the fridge kissing you so aggressively that you had to grip his own linen blouse you forced him to wear – a black tshirt just wouldn’t do – strong enough you were scared you were going to rip holes into it.
You didn’t kiss for much longer, both of you already worked up enough, before Mat gripped your hips roughly to flip you and bend you over the kitchen island. You landed on your elbows, palms flat on the marble while Mat kicked your legs apart. He groaned slapping your ass that was already peaking out from under your skirt. He shoved the tiny bit of frantic even higher so it bunched around your waist, only to reveal the matching red lace thong. The growl that came out of him could have brought you over the edge alone. Mat’s calloused hands griped your delicate skin then pressed his erection into you.
“This ass drives me crazy, every fucking day.” He slapped your skin again. “And then this skirt, god.”
Your moan was interrupted by a chuckle. “I’m aware. We never make it out the door without you fucking me against the closest surface any time I wear it.”
One of his hands got ahold of your waves and pulled your upper body up to him. With a touch voice he spoke into your ear sending shiver down your spine, “Is that what you want? For me to fuck you on the counter? Making us late yet again? We’re starting to gain a reputation.”
His grip on your hair was rough but the pleasure trumped the pain. “Yes,” you whispered hoarsely.
“Good girl.” And with that she shoved you back down, pressing you flat against the cold counter. He works his pants, freeing his hard cock desperate to slide right into you. And he doesn’t waste any time pushing your pantries to the side, lining up and running the tip over your folds. You both gasp at contact. “This pussy if soaked for me. You like the hat that much, eh?”
You wiggled your ass in response, widening your stance and pushing back into him to urge him on. He slipped himself through your folds again before slamming into you to the hilt. “Oh god,” you moaned, your finger digging into the marble.
Mat gave you a few more seconds to adjust before gripping your hips and thrusting back into you, hard. “So fucking right.” He switched between hard and fast thrusts then slower and more precise ones, grinding into you making sure to hit every angle. His hands were on you. Your back, pushing you down. Your hair, giving him something to hold onto while slamming into you repeatedly.
You were a whimpering moaning mess underneath him. “That what you wanted? To be fucked by a cowboy?” His words were choppy and breathless as he slammed into you then rolled his hips sliding impossibly deeper.
“Fuck, yes,” you breathed. That got your ass slapped and your hair pulled hard giving you enough momentum to force yourself up onto your hands. Mat’s lips connected with your shoulder, biting down enough to leave marks before soothing the burn with soft kisses.
“You are delicious,” he murmured and suddenly the moment turned soft. Your arm wrapped around his neck pulling him into you for a kiss. Your tongue slipped into his mouth and you both moaned when Mat started slowing moving his hips again.
But then he separated, only enough to spin you around and lift you up onto the counter, capturing your lips immediately after. You kissed, not caring about smearing your red lipstick. He was addicting and even though you absolutely hated being late to events, for this you’d give up everything. But when your body started to scream for his cock filling you again, you slipped your hand between your bodies wrapping your hand around the root of his hard length that juts out above the waistband of his underwear. Around every hot, hard inch covered in your juices. Your finger glides over the tip, smearing the drops of cum beading there.
Finally, you slid closer to the edge of the counter and Mat filled you easily, breaking the kiss to let his head fall back with a groan. Your legs shook in their place around his waist. You felt every inch, every ridge, every vain as he slowly moved inside of you. The please was building and building, turning your brain into mush losing control over your body. But Mat got you, pinning you to him, savoring every moan and sigh.
“Maty. Maty.” You buried your face in the crock of his neck and let him work you, pumping into you slow but deep.
“You’re so good to me,” he whispered, his lips tracing your damp skin. “So good.”
His jaw flexed as he started to pick up his pace again, both of you already close to finding your release. So you lied back on the counter, let your legs fall open, and started to play with yourself while Mat took you in. That expression of passion and love on his face in full blinding force. But then you bit your lip and pinched your clit as his expression turned downright wicked. He pulled out and then slammed in hard. Again. And again. Steady, even, powerful strokes that shook your entire body.
Mat fucked you senseless on the top of the kitchen counter. The cowboy hat, which had gotten you so worked up all afternoon since he refused to wait until tonight to wear it, scattered on the floor. He looked like some sort of avenging god working you into a frenzy. Flushed cheeks, disheveled hair flopped over his forehead, veins bulging on his forearms while his abs flexed with every thrust. You could come just from savoring the view you got by lying with spread legs beneath his hard, heavy body. His hands held you open wide, and his eyes stay locked on yours.
You finally fell apart underneath his touch. Your body tremored, wave after wave as your orgasm dragged on for an eternity. Mat draped himself on top of you, pressing him lips to yours, swallowing every moan you gave him.
You held him close, hugging him to you even closer. Your shudders subsided and you were finally able to focus on him, noticing his lips switch – a tell he was also close. “Come on, cowboy. Come in me.”
Your voice was hoarse against his ear. You reveled in the fact that he shivered in response before his thrust got more and more sloppy, before he finally erupted. Mat groaned loudly, pushing deeper into you, spilling every drop of him cum inside of you. You felt everything. Every pulse. Every kiss. Every touch. You could even feel his heartbeat on your chest and his harsh breath against your neck.
You spent a couple of minutes catching your breath, stroking his hair, waiting for that orgasm cloud over your brain to pass. When you finally did muster up the courage to look over to the oven clock, you pushed Mat away from you. “Fuck! We’re really gonna be late now.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Mat’s hand caught your wrist, spinning you back towards him. “Let’s clean up.”
He grabbed a paper towel, wetting it in the sink, before dropping to his knees. His green eyes were still oozing sex as he slowly wiped his cum from your thigh. “Hurry,” you whined. “I wanna see the cowboys.”
He smirked before reaching back to grab his hat off the floor flopping it on his head. “You’ve got a perfectly good cowboy sitting right here. On his knees ready to worship you, might I add.”
As much as you loved the feel of your pussy clenching at the thought, you had plenty of time to do that later. Mat worshipping you could wait. The cowboys couldn’t. And that’s what you told him, before pulling him off the floor, doing the cleaning up yourself to actually get the job done. After a quick trip to the bathroom for some perfume renewal, you finally dragged your cowboy out the door.
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yuujispinkhair · 10 hours
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I usually see fics where Sukuna is 'the experienced one' and reader on the other hand is the shy one who never had those types of experiences before so Sukuna has to ""teach"" her how to do it.
However, as Sukuna canonically has never experienced love and attachment to someone in his life, what if he's the one who needs to learn?
What if it's Sukuna who finds himself trembling when he and reader are going to kiss
What if he finds himself ashamed when he wants to go further with reader but doesn't know how to do it because he has never done it so it's reader who softly shows and explains to him how to do it?
I love to imagine and write Sukuna as someone who is experienced when it comes to sex but completely inexperienced when it comes to love.
Modern!Sukuna is used to casual, little flings that mean nothing. Trueform/King of Curses Sukuna is used to admirers throwing themselves at him, begging for a night with him, or people bringing him their daughters to sacrifice their virginity to him in exchange for his blessings. And Sukuna lets himself indulge in those desires of the flesh. He takes what he wants and selfishly uses those strangers' bodies for his own pleasure. Oftentimes, he doesn't even ask for their names or forgets them again because he simply doesn't care.
Sex is easy for Sukuna. But what absolutely terrifies him is when his heart and his stomach feel so strange anytime you are near him and smile at him and treat him with so much affection and love. It scares Sukuna out of his mind that you mean something to him. The thought of losing you makes him almost sick with worry. He fears it would destroy him.
And he catches himself being reluctant to go further. For the first time in his life, he doesn't want to fuck, but wants to make love. But it is a concept so new and strange to him that it scares him. He doesn't know how to proceed because so much is at stake all of a sudden. He doesn't want this to just be a night of meaningless fun. He doesn't want to risk seeing you walk away from him afterward.
Sukuna never cared that deeply about someone. For a long time, he assumed he wasn't capable of love. Maybe because no one ever treated him with love either. Maybe because no one saw him in that light. Maybe because he always was just the guy for one night. Or maybe because he was a god-like monster that people admired but also feared. Maybe because he scared everyone off with his intimidating looks and personality.
But you somehow saw something more in him. Sukuna thinks you are the first and only one who saw his true self, which was hidden so deeply behind his perfect mask of arrogance and indifference.
And now Sukuna's world has been turned upside down. Suddenly, he doesn't want to take but wants to give instead. He doesn't just care about his own pleasure but wants you to feel good. He wants to see your eyes roll back and hear you moan his name, not because it gives him a feeling of power but because he wants to make you happy. He wants you to stay in his bed and in his arms afterward. He wants to wake up with you snuggled against him. He wants to kiss your hands and your lips and tell you that you own his heart. He wants it to mean something.
Sukuna doesn't know how to return to the person he was before you loved him and taught him how to love, too. And he knows he could never share this with anyone else. So please forgive him if his large, strong hands tremble slightly when he touches your cheek. Even a man like him can be scared of something.
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wonuwrites · 21 hours
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Seventeen In The Beginning Stages Of A New Relationship x
saw someone do an ask in someone elses inbox and thought this would be fun to write about. Especially since I've been writing SO much angst lately. It would be nice to have some teeth rotting fluff :)
Prompt: How would Seventeen Members be in the beginning stages of a new relationship?
Warnings: really fluffy, sfw version so sorry no horny time, minors still don't interact tho~, pet names, potentially cussing because that's the person I am. idk if you like cute shit you might not like this.
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ღ S Coups: super soft, complete opposite of how he usually is.
Almost all of them are the type to be "down bad" but holy shit Seungcheol is on another level.
Thinks that you are royalty and treats you that way.
He holds the door for you.
Opens the car door for you and puts his hand above your head so you wont bang your head.
He will be the best bag and umbrella holder.
He always walks to your front door with fresh flowers before each date.
Has a million compliments running through his mind but too shy to admit them all because he's afraid you will run away.
The first time you interlocked your fingers with his, he almost died.
Like his heart almost backflipped out of his chest and he just felt electrified.
He has a list of things you like saved to his phone so he can 'surprise' you out of the blue.
I can see him thinking long term pretty early on in your relationship.
You just are so important to him as he is to you.
ღ Jeonghan: super shy but can't help but tease still.
Jeonghan would act like it was the other way around but he was SO wrapped around your finger.
When you weren't looking he would be sending you the biggest heart eyes.
He'd constantly wonder how the hell he got so lucky to have someone like you.
He would want to be next to you all the time.
Sometimes he'd forget time was a thing and would send "goodnight" texts after practice or schedules.
Sometimes that would be like 3 in the morning and then he'd triple text an apology.
Luckily you would find it precious.
But not as precious as he thought YOU were.
He would always have a smile plastered on his face when he was around you.
He just thought you were so neat.
ღ Joshua: insane yet a gentleman
Listen, Joshua is insane but he's a gentleman. Especially to his baby.
When you agreed to be his, he felt like he won the lotto.
He would so mindful of you.
He would want to know everything about you.
As long as you were comfortable with it though.
TBH he would either do big gestures or little ones. No in between.
He would make you a bracelet with both of your favorite colors.
He would love to talk on the phone with you.
Especially at night after a long day of practices.
Even though he MUCH rather be with you in person, your voice is music to him.
You are his peace.
Overtime, you become apart of the 'evil twin' chaos with him and Jeonghan.
Seventeen would call you three the 'evil triplets'
If you are crazy as well, you get bonus points.
ღ Jun: shy giggly mess but would do anything for you.
If you were to tell Jun to jump, he'd ask how high.
Similarly to Seungcheol, he'd be extremely down bad.
He would constantly smile at you no matter what.
Like, you could sneeze and he would find it adorable.
At the beginning before he was 1000% comfortable, he would giggle a lot and overthink everything.
Hell, he over thought whether or not it was too soon to hold your hand.
YOU had to be the one to grab his hand and swing it back and forth.
(That action alone gave him butterflies for 7 business days btw.)
The more comfortable he got, the more silly he got which made you giggle and become the shy giggly mess.
He would send you random pictures throughout the day of things that made him think of you.
TBH I can see him bringing you random things that made him think of you.
like a cool ass rock? Totally would bring it to you because the color of the rock reminded him of your eye color or whatever LOL.
He just wanted to show you how much he liked you.
ღ Hoshi: pretty much what you would expect
Soonyoung wore a smile whenever you were around and even strangers could see how whipped he was.
Do you rememember Loco and Hwasa's interaction on "Hyena's on The Keyboard?" Yeah basically, Soonyoung would be like Loco toward you. Especially the car scene when he bought Hwasa a lipstick LMFAO
You would make him so flustered most days and it was honestly so cute.
The days he was a bit more confident would make you so flustered but unlike you where it was unintentional his was intentional.
Cuddly lil tiger... rawr (I'm so sorry)
Honestly, just being near you was all he needed for a good day.
When you both were busy with various schedules, he would send you texts throughout the day and send you pictures and videos of things that made him think of you.
Which would honestly be basically everything because you were ALWAYS on his mind.
Basically just a cuddly lil simp that was so happy to be yours.
ღ Wonwoo: the biggest cheerleader tbh
All members would be hella supportive of their significant others but I feel like Wonwoo would be the most supportive.
Not in a way that would be overly shown but would bring you flower after big projects and things like that.
Loves to listen to you talk about projects, aspirations, and all at.
He is all smiles whenever you talk about things you are SUPER passionate about.
His love language would be acts of service so he would do his best to do things that would make your life a bit more easier.
Also would be a subtle romantic. He would take you on casual but meaningful dates.
If you went to an arcade he would make sure he won you a plushie.
Also, if you thought you were paying for anything, that would be cute.
Also, if you were also a gamer and wanted to play minecraft, he would put your beds next to each other in your shared house.
Just the best cheerleader <3
ღ Woozi: feels like he won the lottery
Jihoon feels like he won the lottery when it comes to you.
He found someone that liked him for Jihoon and not just because he was Woozi?!
He would constantly be shocked that you were so supportive of him and vice versa.
After like the second date, he already felt like you were going to be a muse for him.
Writes the cutest love songs for your ears only.
They would be some of the most vulnerable lyrics that would make you just cry because they were so beautiful.
He isn't a very touchy guy but he would hold your hands often.
Is a homebody mostly but would step out of his comfort zone to go on an adventure with you.
You both have 'secret gestures' when out in public. If you are nervous or want him to know you are thinking of him, you tug at your left ear twice. For him, he will rub the top of his nose bridge twice.
It gives him butterflies if you do it in front of y'all's friends.
He's honestly so down bad for you and just constantly grateful for you.
ღ DK: down bad, comfortable, your new best friend.
Seokmin had the biggest crush on you before you started dating. When you both got together he felt like the luckiest son of a bitch ever.
The other members would tease him constantly because he was so down bad and such a simp for you.
But hey, you weren't complaining because you also were down bad and a simp for him lol.
You both skipped the "awkward" parts of the beginning of a relationship and it just always felt so comfortable.
Even when it was learning about what you both liked and disliked.
You both just fit together like a puzzle piece.
You both were head over heels for each other super quick.
He just was your best friend and vise versa.
ღ Mingyu: 25/8 heart eyes and so thankful for you.
Mingyu was super emotional when it came to you.
He was a mix of Seungcheol and Seokmin where he was just so down bad for you and just so comfortable around you.
Similarly to Seungcheol, he would also think long term.
He just loved and craved doing domestic things with you.
He loved cooking, he loved movie nights, he loved late night drives where you were the best passenger princess.
Shit, he even loved folding laundry with you which he helped you do when it was pouring rain and y'all had to cancel reservations because the rain was so bad.
He just was so enchanted to be with you and love you.
Oh also, he is such a clingy man and would always want to hold your hand or be touching you in some way.
ღ Minghao: the moment when the anti-delulu becomes delulu for his baby
Minghao would find you to be the most precious person in the world.
He would want to do everything and anything for you.
He would constantly look at you with heart eyes.
He would be constantly flustered because of your antics.
He would think you were the most precious-est person to ever ever exist.
You would be a muse for him and his paintings.
Omg, if you both did paint dates, his heart would explode because you were both doing something he loved together.
If you were someone that likes to read, you both would cuddle and get lost in your books while near each other.
To him, you are perfect.
And to you, he is perfect.
ღ Seungkwan: he would want to be perfect because you deserve it
Seungkwan is very cautious about his image with him being an idol and doing variety shows often.
For first bit of the relationship, I can see him trying to prove something to you.
He would try his best to be perfect for you that you would have to sit him down and tell him that you like him for him. That him being an idol is just a lil bonus.
This would hard rewire his brain and he would learn how to be himself with you.
He is very vulnerable with you.
A lot of the members love that you bring a more casual side to him.
However, he would love if you were sassy and would be side eyeing people with him.
Imagine a lot of self care days with him. Like face masks while eating take out.
He just loves being around you because he feels safe.
You become his safe place <33333
ღ Vernon: partners in crime and just so thankful for you.
Hansol finding you was a dream come true and he often thanked the stars for finding you.
You both spoke in movie, vine, and tiktok quotes.
Most of your text convos are of random memes.
Some of the older members look at your relationship and just think "?????"
However, Hansol and you don't give a rats ass because you both understand and that is what matters.
He would match clothes with you.
He would often let you borrow his clothes because he thinks they looked way better on you then him.
He would show you his solo stuff before he showed anyone else.
He is just so in love with you awww.
ღ Dino: Down bad doesn't even cover it
I know I said Seungcheol was the ultimate when it came to being "down bad" but holy shit Lee Chan.
He would be a mix of all of his hyungs tbh
However, he would be so down bad that his hyungs would tease him.
He would bring you up ALL the time.
He had you as his wallpaper and even had a polaroid picture of you both in his wallet.
He would be your biggest fan and he just loved you so much.
He would do tiktok dance challenges with you all the time.
He also would try to find things cool things to do on dates with you.
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dandelions-143 · 3 days
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In Love
Masterlist
Pairing: Seungmin (non idol) x f!reader
Genre: cheesy fluff, very little angst, FWB
Warnings: None
{I was listening to Taylor Swift while writing this so the cheese is cheesing so hard but it’s still cute, enjoy}
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You were sitting on your bed, the blankets a skewed mess all over the place. The afternoon setting sun cast an orange light that leaked into your window casting a hazy glow on the side of the mans face that was leaned down concentrating on drawing a puppy on your upper thigh. You two had just spent the entire day together, tangled up in your sheets, loving, fucking, talking, and laughing. Your eyes lingered on his profile, the curve of his nose, the soft edges of his full lips. "Beautiful" you mumbled out loud. Usually you two didn't open up about your romantic feelings. It was more playful jokes and affection, you two just were not the best at expressing how you felt.
Seungmin looks up at you with his sweet smile, "well it's not as good as what Hyunjin Hyung would do but, you can tell it's a dog... I think." You giggled and watched him finish the cute little dog with a crooked tail that was drawn right at the top of your inner thigh. He then leaned in and kissed it softly causing you to shiver just a little. You ran your fingers through his thick hair, scratching his scalp gently causing him to moan a little bit. "That feels so good, babe." In the midst of all of this happiness you couldn't help but feel a small pang of sadness in your chest. You and Seungmin were not officially dating but, you had been doing this for months now and you were falling hard. You wouldn't dare tell him, you were afraid that you would scare him off. You felt as if you needed him even if it was in secret rendezvous and only talked about in hushed whispers.  It was worth it.. right?
He happily went back to kissing up your inner thigh, inching his way towards your panties when he was interrupted by his phone ringing. "Ignore that." Seungmin mumbled between nips and bites of your delicate skin. You began to tug gently at his hair the closer he moved towards your still sensitive pussy but, his phone just kept ringing. "You should probably get that." You said as you moved to sit back up. Seungmin groaned in frustration and rolled off of you to grab his phone from the night stand beside your bed. When he looked at the screen he instantly got up and walked over to your attached bathroom. He gave you an apologetic look before disappearing behind the bathroom door. The pain in your chest grew into more of a panic at the realization that you may not be the only girl in his life. 
He is a young single man and you two are not dating. He has never eluded to the fact that you two are exclusive what so ever. It still stung, it still hurt horribly and all you could do was clench your teeth, slide down into your bed more, pull the covers up and hide.  It took maybe fifteen minutes and Seungmin came out in a little bit of a rush. You sat up instantly asking, "Is everything okay?"  You watched as he began to grab his clothes and put them on, then his shoes. "Yeah, uh a friend just needs me."
"Oh, right." Is all you could say because if you said anything else he would definitely be able to tell you were on the verge of tears. He grabbed the rest of his things and headed for your door. Just before he rushed away from you Seungmin turns around with a soft smile as his brown eyes met yours, "Don't forget about tonight, okay? The park, our bench at 9." You simply nodded and gave him a reassuring smile that didn't quite meet your eyes. Then he was gone and all that lingered was a mix of his cologne, the love making you two had, and the salty tears that began to stain your cheeks.
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It took you the entire three hours to drag yourself out of bed, get showered, and clothed.  You wanted to go to the park to see him but, you also wanted to lay in your bed and sulk while you listened to your sad playlist.  You left your apartment heading in the direction of the park, which was only a block away.  This park was very significant to you and to Seungmin. It's where you two met, he was playing catch ball with a few of his friends and the ball rolled onto your blanket that you were laying on while you were reading a book. He ran up to grab the ball and apologize to you. After that you two met every chance you could at this one bench in that very same park.. until friendly laughs turned into gentle touches and soft kisses.. and the rest is history.
You were trying to get the way he had left you in your bed out of your head so you could just enjoy your time with Seungmin tonight when you turned the corner and there he stood next to that same bench you both had claimed. The closer you got the more you realized that he was not just standing there alone. "I know it's kind of cheesy." Seungmin began as you grew closer to him. You were slightly confused at first, wondering what he was talking about but just behind him was an entire display of white roses and flickering candles. He moved aside so you could get a better look at it. "It's beautiful..." at first it just seemed like a scattering of roses and every so often a white or red candle would be there.
He was watching intently, anticipation in his eyes and a worried set of his brow that deepened the longer you took to say anything. Then it hit you.. the roses and candles spelled out, "Can I be your puppy?" Your eyes grew wide with shock and you turned to him.. "you...what?" You knew what he was asking but it came as such a big surprise you didn't know how to make the words come out of your mouth.
Seungmin stepped forward and placed his hands on your shoulders, "I've been a coward. I have wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you that day you were reading on your strawberry pink blanket. From that day forward I was hooked. I looked for your texts every morning and then every 20 minutes throughout the day. I made sure to see you every single chance I could. But I was scared of these feelings. Even when you reciprocated my physical advances I still couldn't tell you how you made my heart race, my palms sweaty, you made me smile so much my cheeks would hurt. But all of that was not enough to push me to tell you how I felt until the other night..."
You were mesmerized by him, in this moment.. he had never spilled his heart out to you like this... about anything. So you gripped his hands and waited patiently for him to continue. The air was growing chilly and you could see his breath as he spoke nervously, "that first night I stayed a full night with you. We had made love twice that night and you fell a sleep faster than I did. I couldn't sleep because all I could think about was you. How you smelled, your taste, your sounds.. even the way you gently moaned in your sleep was the best thing I had ever heard. My chest was tight as fuck the moment I realized I'm in love with you and I needed to tell you."  Seungmin looked over at all the cliche roasts and candles with a soft chuckle, "I know you've always told me you find these showy gestures of affection very annoying and insincere but, you know  I had to prove you wrong. This is very sincere and I'm very serious.. I want to be yours and I want you to be mine. Cheesy fucking roses and all." He paused, "Also this was Binnies idea.. you know I would never come up with this on my own." You giggled, realizing that's who it must have been on the phone earlier when Seungmin had to leave in such a rush.
All you could do for a moment was stare. Stare at his handsome face, his bright puppy dog eyes. Feel the way his warm hands engulfed yours as he stood there watching you.  You felt breathless..happy but unsure if you could even form the words you wanted to. You could see the light in his eyes fading the longer it took you. Seungmins hands began to slip from yours but, at the last minute you gripped his hands and tugged him to you. Your lips collided with his, kissing him slow and sweet. His lips were a warm home in the cold night air. "I love you too, idiot." You mumbled between kisses. He smiled against your lips and picked you up swinging you around. You had never seen Seungmin like this but you wanted more of it and this felt like a new beginning for the both of you.
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atinylittlepain · 2 days
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Little Pinch
nurse!marcus pike x f!reader
she needs to get bloodwork done. one small problem, getting bloodwork done never goes well for her, especially not when she's distracted by the very kind, very handsome nurse doing it.
wordcount | 3.3K
content info | 18+ discussions of getting bloodwork that includes needles, fainting, nausea, mostly fluff, nurse marcus to the rescue, this is just a fun time, also an un-beta'd time so like, be nice pls
a/n | shoutout to the girls (gn) that pass out every time they get blood work done (me). I have to get new labs tomorrow morning, and writing this is how I coped with that prospect :') this one is for the fainters, the thin veiners, the "just do it in my hand"-ers - i see you, i am you, gawd bless
..........................................................................
Here’s the thing, this never goes well. It wasn’t always like this though. She has a vague memory of being a kid and taking it like a perfect champ, testing for mono after a rash of cases at school. But then, well, something changed. 
It runs in her family. Thin veins that are hard for even the best nurses to find, lots of oh, I just lost it, and well, let’s try your other arm, and always, ultimately, hands? Should we try the hands? No, the nurses never listen when she tells them to just start with the hands, and without fail, somewhere around the third or fourth time they try to get the needle in, a cold sweat breaks, and the room starts to filter through a fuzzy pinhole of vision. It’s embarrassing, she thinks, because, really, she has no problem with needles. Can watch it go in, no issues with piercings, et cetera, et cetera, but getting blood drawn? Yeah, forget about it. She usually comes to with paperwork around her feet that she had been holding, and a well-meaning nurse pressing a damp paper towel to her forehead and breathing the remnants of her lunch over her face and alright, hon? Usually a box of apple juice and an escort out to her car to make sure she doesn’t go offline again. 
The other thing is, unfortunately, she’s pretty sure her little fainting, fading thing has gotten worse over the years. A conditioned response, she thinks, that cold sweat starts the second she walks into the waiting room, already anticipating what comes next. And today, well, even worse than some of the others. Twelve hours fasted, and no, that certainly won’t help her case, no matter how much water she downed before she came here, no matter how tight she squeezes her fist in the hopes of pumping even one vein up enough to be tenable. She looks at the woman sitting across from her in the waiting room, reading a back-ordered issue of Cosmo, flipping and flippant and really, why can’t she be like that? Why can’t she be normal like that? Instead, her heel is doing a frantic tap, whole leg jerking with it, and everytime she checks her watch she feels her heart creep a little further up into her throat. 
If she’s being honest, she thought about canceling her labs. No, doc, all good, doc, don’t need to know, doc. And then a friend pointed out, frustratingly, that avoidance is only going to make it worse. Right, so, right, so right, so, here she is. And here’s the nurse opening the door and right, calling her name, and it’s a man nurse, male nurse, though she’s pretty sure she’s not being PC by making that specification in her mind because really, twenty-first century, and really, anyone can be a nurse. But not anyone, right? Lots of schooling, right? Right. She realizes a bit too late that she hadn’t responded to the nurse calling her name, jerking up out of her chair and trying for a smile that she thinks probably looks more like constipation. And that’s just great because now man nurse, sorry, just nurse, probably thinks she’s constipated and she’d rather not have the, actually, very handsome, just nurse, thinking that on top of whatever she’s got going on that necessitates lab work she also can’t take a shit. Right. 
“We’re going to be in this room right here.” Handsome just nurse has a nice voice too, deep but kind, and a strong jawline, and a patchy beard but she likes that it’s patchy, and he’s tan and he’s got one of those big watches that tells you how hard your heart was beating on your run and he probably runs in the afternoon after clocking out of the needle-in-arms gig and that’s probably why he’s so tan, probably has a golden retriever who runs with him too, because he looks like a golden retriever guy, dark flop of wavy hair and that smile and oh, oh, he just asked her a question and now she’s supposed to answer it. 
“I’m sorry, could you say that again?” He smiles, nods, being nice, at least, about her whole scared prey animal situation. She presses her palm down hard on her knee to keep it from bouncing any more. 
“It says on this order that these labs need to be taken fasted. Can you confirm to me that you haven’t had anything to eat or drink besides water in the last twelve hours?” Oh yes, yep, she can confirm that for you, Marcus, his name is Marcus, says so on his little lanyard badge. Thanks for the easy one, Marcus, pitch right down the middle, Marcus, with your nice smile and your clipboard and your, well, needles and tubes. But before he can get started with his, well, needles and tubes, she makes a strangled, sort of despondent sound because in situations like these, she comes with a warning label. 
“I should let you know I have, um, bad veins? Honestly, you can just start with my hands, I don’t mind it. And also, I’m a fainter, yeah, so, it happens every time, just so you know.” And usually, usually, her spiel is given very little notice, mmmokay, hon. Sure, they’ll lay her back, how merciful, so she doesn’t crack her skull open on the way out of conscious orbit. That’s about it, though. But this time, she thinks, might just be different.
“Okay, thank you for giving me the heads up. If you’re sure you’re alright with starting with the hands then it’s fine by me to get it done that way.” So, so fine, Marcus, and maybe, just maybe, she thinks she might not pass out this time. He sets the exam table at a reclined angle and she wills her rigid spine to settle against it, trying to find the balance between breathing so deeply she starts to get light headed, and not breathing at all. In case you were wondering, yes, she is on medication for anxiety, it just doesn’t seem to presently be working. 
“Just gonna feel around a bit here for a good one.” She only feels a little insane for the kick and clench in her heart when he takes her one hand in both of his, because he’s just palpating the back of her hand to find, as he said, a good one. Yes, the word for it is palpating, and there is certainly nothing romantic nor, hello, sexual about anything that’s called palpating. But, hey, taking wins where she can get them, and even through the latex gloves, his hands are warm and big and very know what they’re doing about the whole thing. And she’s no expert, obviously, but he’s got a very nice, very visible vein in his forearm, and she bets phlebotomists love him, bets that when he gets blood drawn, he’s in and out no problem, bets that even she could draw blood from him. Nope, nothing sexual about that, nothing weird about that, right? Right. Nothing sexual either, when he ties off the tight band around her arm and she watches his one bicep flex a little with the effort. 
“I can count you down, or you can look away and I’ll just get it done, whichever you prefer.”
“Uh, no preference, I’ll just look away and you can do whatever you want to me.” Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ. She realizes exactly what she just said a bit too late, him, Marcus, nice nurse Marcus, letting out a laugh that fizzles out into a cough. Great, now she’s made her fucking phlebotomist uncomfortable, possibly one of the last people you want to make uncomfortable. But if that, whatever that was, lingers, he doesn’t show it, already swiping an antiseptic wipe over the back of her hand and pulling his little cart of tubes closer to himself. And she knows this part, she’s good at this part, letting her eyes sweep up and to the right, because he’s on her left, and willing whatever vein he decided is a good one to stay a good one. Little pinch, little prayer, she lets out a held breath when he says a quiet alright and keeps the needle exactly where it is. Hallelujah.
“This might take a little longer, just because we’re drawing from your hand.”
“I’ll bleed as fast as I can then.” At the very least, he laughs, even though she wishes she had kept that one to herself. 
“Do you live around here?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“Sorry, I’m trying to distract you.” 
“Didn’t they teach you how to do that in like, phlebotomy school?” She still has her eyes turned up and away, only a little wince when he switches out one tube for another. He hums at her question.
“Not really, I could ask you about the weather, is that better?” 
“It’s cloudy. Not much of a conversation starter.” 
“Well, why don’t you ask me something, since you’re such an expert on starting conversations.”
“Do you have a golden retriever?”
“What?”
“Sorry, you just, you look like the kind of guy who’d have a golden retriever.” Another tube clicks into place, but she’s not paying any attention to that now. 
“Uh, no, no golden retriever. I do however have a very old, very deaf pit mix named Lucille.” Goddamnit, somehow that’s hotter than the golden retriever. 
“Great name.”
“Yeah, I thought so too. She came with it when I adopted her.” God. Fucking. Damn it. What next, is he a volunteer firefighter on the weekends?
“Alright, that’s the last one.”
“Wait, really?” She chances a skittish glance but, sure enough, the needle is out.
“Yep, just let me get a band-aid for you and you’re all set.” Is he? Is she? Really? Going to make it out of here with no blackout? She considers, very briefly, as Marcus is smoothing a band-aid over the back of her hand, whether it’s possible to put a phlebotomist on retainer. 
“If you want to sit for a minute and make sure you’re feeling alright before getting up that’s totally fine. I can also get you water or juice if you’re getting lightheaded.” 
“Oh, no, I’m fine actually. Which, hey, thanks for not making me faint and stuff– that’s a first for me in a very long–” Oh, oh, stops herself mid-compliment because oh, oh, maybe stood up too fast, because the room is going a little dark, a little sideways, cold prickle and nauseous and–
“Easy, easy, I’m gonna help you sit up, okay?” His voice is a little fuzzy around the edges. To be honest, he’s a little fuzzy around the edges, though she knows right away what happened. No, not her first rodeo, like she blinked and then came to in a strange sprawl on the end of the exam table. Marcus presents a dixie cup to her, holds it right in her line of sight because clearly, she’s still a little slumped, still a little vacant, and a little warm, actually, which is new, and a little pleasant, and, oh, it’s because his arm is curled around her shoulders, firm palm held there to help her sit up. Oh. He smells like clorox and something woodsy, and it shouldn’t, but it kind of works. 
“You feeling okay?”
“Mmmhmm.” She’s afraid of what might come out of her mouth if she doesn’t keep her lips pressed in a thin line, mmhmms again when he asks if she can sit up on her own, only a little despondent when he takes his arm away. 
“So, you really weren’t kidding about that happening every time, huh?” 
“Nope, wish I was. It’s– I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
“That you had to deal with that.”
“You don’t have to be sorry about that, it’s part of the job. And actually, you fainted about as perfectly as I could’ve asked you to.”
“I didn’t know you could faint like, well.” 
“Right before you went down you said I’m gonna faint. That’s a lot better than getting no heads up and turning around to find my patient unresponsive on the ground.” 
“Oh gee, I bet you say that to all your patients.” Lord, if there was ever a time to put her out of her misery it’d be now. She probably still looks green from her little trip to outer space but sure, flirt with Marcus, handsome nurse Marcus who just watched you absolutely eat it. Kick your feet and bat your eyelashes while you’re at it. 
“I take it you’re feeling better then? Are you okay to walk out to the front desk?” And the rest is, mercifully, easy. He walks her to the front desk, squeezes her shoulder and gives her a good job today that she likes a little too much. She makes a mental note to herself to never come back to this clinic for any future bloodwork, lest she make a fool of herself all over again in front of a man who, with any luck, she will never see again. 
“Yes, this is she speaking.” This is she speaking in the middle of the cereal aisle with a half-filled grocery basket at her feet. She sets her gaze on a hyper-realized image of a granola cluster (now with real strawberries!) while the woman on the other end of the phone tells her that her lab results came in and were sent over to her doctor. 
“Oh, great, thank you for letting me know. Do you know– did things look okay?” 
“We don’t interpret the results, ma’am. Your doctor will go over that with you.” She doesn’t quite catch that, doesn’t catch the woman’s ma’am? either, a little preoccupied with staring down the aisle, because is that? Is he? He looks good out of the scrubs. 
“Ma’am?”
“Sorry, no, um, of course. Thanks again.” If the woman had anything else to tell her, it’s a little too late for it, already hung up, and she’s trying to decide if she wants him to see her, or if fleeing immediately is the best course of action. He probably wouldn’t even recognize her, she thinks. It’s been a couple of weeks since the whole ordeal. And actually, she’d prefer if he didn’t recognize her. Oh yeah, the one who, well, ate it. But it seems the choice has already been made for her, because he saw her, walking down the aisle toward her, with his chin tilted down and part of a smile like he isn’t sure, but he’s pretty sure. He says her name like a question. Guilty as charged.
“Marcus, right?” Like she forgot his name, ha. His smile stretches, a little brighter, palm to the nape of his neck, and while she got the golden retriever part wrong, she totally clocked the rest, watch on his wrist and nice-looking athletic shorts and just-right-tight t-shirt with the little swoosh on the chest. She thinks his hair might even be a little sweat-damp, curled ends nearly getting in his eyes. In other words, she’s a goner. 
“How have you been since we– you, well–”
“Since I passed out on you?” Yeah, that, he laughs out and yeah, she likes him, sue her. 
“Just for the record, I believe it was you who said I passed out perfectly, so.” Shrug, so, he takes a step closer, leans in a little like he’s going to tell her a secret. In the cereal aisle, of all places. 
“Just for the record, I really don’t say that to all my patients.”
“No?”
“Nope, just the nervous, pretty ones.”
“I was not nervous.”
“You weren’t?”
“Nope.”
“Are you just gonna blow past the other thing?”
“What thing?”
“The pretty thing.”
“Yep.” Something a little giddy, like being back in high school, shared, shit-eating and smug grins. He shakes his head and she rolls her lips back in her mouth to stop her smile from getting any cheesier. 
“So, you do live around here then?” 
“Mm, yeah, I do. And so do you?”
“I do.”
“Nice, nice.”
“Lovely weather we’re having.”
“Wow.” 
“What? I’m making conversation.”
“You’re still not very good at it.”
“I’ll keep working on it for you.”
“Sure, okay. What kind of cereal do you get?”
“What kind do you think I get?”
“You look like a Kashi guy, if I’m honest.”
“Somehow I feel insulted.”
“Well.”
“You’re not even right either.” 
“No? What do you get then?” He just smiles, steps away and reaches up to the top of the shelf and she is very grateful to General Mills for being located on the top shelf because his shirt rides up just enough to see a bare hip. In cheerios we trust. 
“Apple cinnamon, seriously?”
“What? It’s a classic.”
“Actually, you know what, that tracks.” 
“What do you get?” She waggles her basket in front of him in response, goods already procured. 
“Peanut butter chex, respectable choice.”
“Thank you, thank you.” 
“You know, I’d say we’re pretty good at this conversation thing.”
“Yeah, we’re not bad.”
“Do you want to do this again sometime? Not in the cereal aisle?”
“What, you mean like in the produce section?” He smiles at that, rolls his eyes, his basket lightly bonking against hers. 
“I was thinking more like dinner, or drinks if that’s your thing?” 
“I might be free on Saturday.”
“I might also be free on Saturday.” 
“Well, sounds like we’re both free on Saturday.”
“Can I get your number?” His lockscreen is a picture of a dog. Lucille, he tells her, before she was very old and very deaf. She can’t help how big her smile gets at that. 
“Text me, and we’ll do this whole conversation thing again.” I will, he says, phone tucked back into his pocket, though he seems to think twice before asking her can I see something really quick. Not entirely sure what he means when she nods, but then his hand sort of hovers over her forearm, may I? He really does have nice hands, she doesn’t think twice about nodding again. 
“Oh yeah, we didn’t have to use your hand. I could have totally gotten it from here.” His hand curled around her elbow and his thumb lightly pressing into what she can only assume is a vein, and he says it so earnestly that she can’t help the incredulous laugh that rises up in her chest. 
“Really? You’re still stuck on that, huh?” He smiles something sheepish, pad of his thumb rubbing an apology into her skin before pulling away. She didn’t really want him to pull away.
“Sorry, occupational hazard, I guess.” 
“Kinda weird, you know.”
“Did I just ruin this whole thing?”
“Mmm, no, I kinda like it.”
“So, Saturday?”
“Looking forward to it, Marcus.” 
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shady-swan-jones · 3 days
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Captain Swan Fic Recs are back, baby! - April Edition
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Hello, cs friends! It's been like, what, seven years since I last did this? Who's counting. Enjoy the fruits of y'all's labour and some amazing stories. Keep writing, we need you
-Sophie
when Emma falls in love [from the vault] by @spartanguard
Inspired by "When Emma Falls In Love" by Taylor Swift, part of series based on songs from the vault
everyone's wondering why Emma doesn't screw the hot bartender already, it's not like he hasn't given signs. but with emma's romantic past it's not like she's throwing chances to anyone, scruffily attractive as they may be. yet, it's not her past that's worrisome. will they break the curse?
rated T | 6.2k words | AO3
Untie Me | captain swan fic | office romance | mature | 3/5 | 5.9k | in progress, by me
“Didn’t you pay attention to trigonometry, Jones?” she balances her weight on the stick, languidly, in a way that ticks something into his already drowsy brain.  “Is this the part where you offer to teach me, Swan?” he says, advancing to her. 
Read on Ao3 or ff.net
I, lost, was passing by - by @dykelilypage
Five years ago, Emma's father had given her a necklace for her birthday. It was a beautiful ruby encased in a golden chain, that sat heavy on her chest. It was safe to say then, that Emma was more than a little bit pissed off to discover that it had been stolen from right around her neck. The one stroke of luck to the whole ordeal was that she knew exactly who had taken it. Killian Jones. rated E | 6267 words
love scare by @exhaustedpirate
it's a little canon-compliant one-shot that i place during the six weeks of peace, more specifically, like a day or so before 4B rated G | 922 words | ao3
Expecting a Secret [3/3] by @walviemort
Summary: After the events of 3x19, Killian is at his lowest after being rejected by Emma. When Snow’s labor turns out to be a false alarm, Zelena offers Killian a deal: she’ll leave the Charmings alone…if he gives her the baby she needs for her spell instead. There’s just one hitch: he has to keep it a secret. At least it will only take 10 days, right?
The Heart of a Villan (5/5) by @beckettj
There are only two people that can make me care about football: Ted Lasso and this. Words: 6181 ~ AO3
Perilous Harbor by @veryverynotgoodwrites
Emma Swan is heir apparent to her parents' kingdom in the Enchanted Forest, and a powerful wielder of light magic. This makes her the most wanted woman in the realm, not only for marriage, but for leverage against the king and queen. While her parents have been able to keep her safe so far, an attack is launched on Princess Emma that leaves her no choice but to seek the protection of her worst enemy - Killian Jones, infamous captain of the Jolly Roger and his pirate crew. ao3 in progress 19/23
a work of art by @sotangledupinit
“I always have to clean up your messes,” she mutters to herself angrily, eyes glaring down at the red liquid on the floor.
Between Waking Life and Our Dreams (12/?) by @nachocheese-itsmycheese
Season 3b canon divergence: Storybrooke is still missing when Emma, Killian, and Henry reach the town line. AO3 T
The Fluffy Problem by @ineffablecolors
"Oh, I'm going to have fun paying you back, Captain."
ff.net
The Cure for Loneliness (4/?) by @laianely
Killian went to the world without magic to finally kill Crocodile, but instead he met Emma in Gold's shop. And his whole life turned upside down overnight.
E 16k words in progress AO3
Pan Says... (8/?) by @hollyethecurious
After waking up in a strange room with a naked stranger, Emma and Killian must endure the twisted game their kidnapper insists they play in order to gain provisions and avoid punishments.
To Cleave Destiny by @iamstartraveller776
She was going to pass the night the same way she did every year in adulthood: by getting drunk enough to forget that the world was incredibly unfair. Ao3, in progress, T, 4k
Note:
Don't forget to comment and show some love. To me too. Come on. Anyone else who wants to be tagged can request it.
If you have more fic recs or more links, drop them in the comments and I'll include them. You creative mermaids, love ya.
@kmomof4 @caught-in-the-filter @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 @the-darkdragonfly @teamhook @justanother-unluckysoul @karlyfr13s  @snowbellewells @xarandomdreamx @klynn-stormz @omninerdgirl  @facesiousbutton82 @finmnsoh56​ @followbatb @killianxswan @booksteaandtoomuchtv @exhaustedpirate @anmylica @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @undercaffinatednightmare @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @stahlords @lfh1226-linda @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @captainswan-kellie @motherkatereloyshipper @soniccat @jrob64 @beckettj @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jonesfandomfanatic @zaharadessert @bluewildcatfanatic @once-upon-a-happy-end @ultraluckycatnd​
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Cigarettes & Wine | M. Healy | 2
'I think I'll put you in another song, a little glimpse of you before you're gone.'
In which Sadie and Matty can't seem to get along at all. They refuse to see eye-to-eye, but Sadie is starting to find Matty's annoyed face a bit too hot. When faced with conversations about feelings, Sadie can't help but want to run away from it all.
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warnings: implied alcoholism, implied panic attack (not in a written scene), smut (unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering), lots of arguing, they both just spew shite at each other <3.
word count: 6.7k
authors note: lalalalala sadie matty smut lalalalala. so what it's angry (lowkey heartbreaking) smut, its still smut. i rlly had fun writing this and i am sorry for the angst <3 (not rlly x)
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Sadie doesn’t think she’s ever felt anger like she’s feeling right now. The band had just gotten back to their flat after one of their more hectic shows, and George had obviously had the smart idea to go out after said show. Sadie missed out on this night out, feeling like her body was about to collapse inwards, but when the band returned home, loudly, she woke up and immediately seethed. Her anger worsened when she fully woke, she knew what was going on in Matty’s room due to them sharing a wall. Cheap flat means paper thin walls. As each day passes the urge to ask George to switch rooms with her grows.
The pornographic moans and groans paired with the bedframe that is just about banging her bedroom wall down is enough to make Sadie roll out of bed and leave her room with a huff. She almost regrets it when she sees Ross and George basically rolling on the kitchen floor trying to put a frozen pizza in the oven, Adam was standing over the pair just laughing at them. Sadie smirks but then when she hears another bang of Matty’s bedframe come from behind her she mutters a string of angry swear words under her breath. “What does she look like this time?” Is the sentence Sadie uses to make her presence known to the three drunk men in the kitchen.
The boys all look up at her with grimaces on their faces which makes Sadie run a hand down her own, she knows they all want to say “You.” Which makes her reconsider her entire career. She is subjecting herself to something comparable to torture day in, day out. Ever since Sadie had started point blank refusing him sex he was acting crazy, actively seeking out girls who have something in common with her looks wise. She had only started closing herself off because the band was starting to gain traction and she didn’t want anything to end in a messy enough manner for them both to risk their careers. It seemed like a lost cause with the way they were both acting though.
“It’s okay though, we’re having a pizza party.” Ross had somehow manoeuvred from the floor to Sadie’s side, leaning his entire body weight on her. She grunted and moved so the pair of them were leaning on the counter, she looked in his eyes at his extremely slurred words and wondered how he could be this drunk after only being out for two and a half hours. She shook her head with a smirk and snatched the pizza from George, forgetting how much of his weight that Ross was putting on her until he keeled over onto the floor with a giggle.
“Oh my god, Ross.” George pretty much collapses on top of Ross in a fit of drunken giggles and Sadie busies herself with setting the timer on the oven. When she turns around, Adam is stood with his arms open, and she smiles up at him and accepts his invitation for a cuddle. He starts swaying the pair and she can’t help but breathe out a laugh at the song he’s attempting to sing, Sadie has no idea what song he’s actually trying to sing. She tries to pull away when he starts swaying a bit too hard but before she knows it the four of them are on the floor struggling to breathe through their laughs.
When they all sit down on the couch to indulge in their pizza, Sadie hears a door open and close from the hallway. She can’t help the way her eyes roll into her skull, and she suddenly doesn’t want to finish her plate. The way he gets a glass of water, silently, pisses her off beyond belief. He grabs a slice of their pizza and heads back to his room with the water, he notices the silence when he walks in, but he chooses to not make a petty comment. When his bedroom door practically slams shut, Sadie lets out a breath she didn’t know she was even holding in. “George, can I sleep in your room?” He nods with a mouthful of pizza and Sadie heads to her room to grab her water bottle.
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Sadie can’t sleep for George’s excessive snoring, he always fucking snores when he’s drunk. She gets up to fill her already empty water bottle with a sigh, a chill comes over her body when she opens the bedroom door, she immediately connects the dots when she sees Matty hanging out the living room window, cig in hand. She sighs and turns her back on him, flipping the tap to cold and turning it on, she hears him clearing his throat behind her and has to stifle the groan trying to escape her lips. “Bored of your girlfriend in there?”
Matty’s chuckle tastes bitter on his tongue, he despises her immaturity sometimes. When he doesn’t reply, she turns to him and when he gestures her over with his head she sighs, she can’t say no to him, and she loathes it. Sitting down next to him she takes his offer of a cigarette, he also forces the glass of wine he’s cradling into her hand, which she happily downs. He looks at her, she looks out the window. “Can’t sleep?”
“George won’t stop fucking snoring.” Matty smiles at that and hands her his lighter. She hands it back and inhales deeply when her cigarette is lit. The silence between them is the calmest silence they’ve sat in for at least three months, anytime the two have been forced in a room alone the tension has been so palpable you could cut it with a knife. Probably due to the fact they’ve not had sex in three months either. She can’t help but study his face, she hasn’t properly taken him in for a while, she tends to avoid him whenever they aren’t shouting at each other’s faces. He looks exhausted, the way his eyes are heavy set into his face and his mouth is nearly permanently in a frown are the telltale signs, this makes her frown. She leans onto his shoulder and lowers her voice to a whisper, “I’m sorry.”
“What? What for?” She shrugs and he wraps an arm around her shoulders, an attempt to protect her from the cold breeze wafting in through the open window. Hesitating slightly, he leans his head against hers, his lips meeting her messy hair before he does so. She sighs and shuffles a bit closer, having sat at a decent distance from him originally. “Nothing to be sorry for, Sades. I’m sorry.”
“Well, what are you sorry for?”
“I’m not sure either.” At his lack of attempt to actually apologise, she hums, nothing has changed. This conversation isn’t progress.
“I should go back to bed.” Sadie feels Matty’s head shake on top of hers and she snickers slightly, raising her head to face him. Their faces are much closer than they were before which makes Sadie’s heart pick up in pace ever so slightly. She pretends that it doesn’t though. He tries to sneak a glance down at her slightly dry lips, but her eager eyes notice, and she instinctively leans in, she swears she does it without realising. Before she knows it his lips are on hers and every argument they’ve had recently has flown out of her head, replaced by the way his hand feels when it falls to her bare thigh, practically coaxing the goosebumps out of her. Matty pulls away first and Sadie shakes her head. “We can’t. Shouldn’t.”
Silencing her with another kiss, a squeeze on her thigh, and his tongue against her lips, Matty groans into her mouth, begging to be let in. She denies him entrance until his other hand tugs lightly at her hair, drawing involuntary moans from her mouth, gaining him entrance. Readjusting so he’s no longer sitting cross legged on the windowsill Matty drags Sadie by the hips on to his lap. She feels so dirty, Matty had gone from being inside the girl in his bedroom two hours ago to making out with Sadie in the living room, but a sick part of her likes knowing that he’ll always come back to her. The same sick part of her grinds down into Matty’s growing erection, revelling in the way his head thumps against the window behind him. “Fuck, Sades.”
“Did that girl not do it for you? She might look like me, but I bet she doesn’t fuck like me, hmm?” Her hands find the seam of her pyjama top, but she quickly feels him swatting her hands away, wanting to take her top off himself. Doing so with fervour, his lips ghosting her nipples, blowing hot air over them and giving her reaction a sick smile. When his mouth closes around her nipple, a low groan ripples through her throat, she feels the need to get his clothes off of him as soon as possible. “Matty, please.”
“You’re filth. Desperate to fuck me when I’ve got a girl waiting for me.” Matty’s words hit Sadie right in her core, writhing on his lap, desperate for friction. The thin material of Matty’s boxers paired with the lacey material of Sadie’s panties was sending her wild, the feeling against her heat is delicious but she’s growing bored of it. He lifts his hips in a frenzy to rid himself of one of two clothing items keeping them apart, at the rapid friction Sadie moans loudly and squeezes her eyes closed. Letting out a dry laugh, Matty shifts her on his lap, her eyes cast down to his length and her hand automatically wrapped around it, like it was muscle memory. “No, need to be inside you. Won’t last long.”
Sadie feels like her lungs are being squeezed with how breathless she is, frantically shuffling her panties down her legs. Takes himself in one hand, Matty lines himself up and grabs one of Sadie’s hands with the other, she squeezes it as he pushes into her, a whine scraping the inside of her throat before tearing out of her mouth. Matty lets go of her hand and sticks two of his fingers into her open mouth, hissing at her, “You’ve got to be quiet, Sades.”
Whining around his fingers, Sadie bucks her hips into his harshly, Matty lets out a sound akin to a growl. She stops and raises an eyebrow at him, brutally shoving two fingers in his mouth. Feeling his mouth forming into a smirk around her fingers at her smug face, he starts fucking up into her to break her mean demeanour. The way her eyes roll into her head spurs him on, his pace relentless, his tongue licking up and down her fingers to match the pace of his savage thrusts. An urge to hear the noises that Matty clearly wants to make takes over Sadie’s brain, so she rips her fingers out of his mouth and sticks it on his knee behind her, leaning back in his lap to feel him hit her deeper inside. “Can fucking feel you squeezing me, so tight, missed this.”
The fake pout takes over her face without her permission, “Really meant it when you said you wouldn’t last long. Pathetic, I’m not even close.” She’s playing it up and he knows it from the way she tenses her thighs and squeezes his knee until her knuckles turn white. But Matty takes her words as the truth, holding himself off from finishing inside her, picking her up and throwing her onto the couch. Moaning at the way he man-handled her, Sadie can feel the loss of him inside her like he’d just ripped her arm from her torso, her blissed out face was quickly replaced by a glare at the two fingers re-entering her mouth, scowling as his hips snapped back into hers. When he leans down to give her neck an open-mouthed kiss, she snaps around his fingers, into his ear. “Fuck you.”
“I am.” The words uttered into her pliable skin make her arch her back into him. She hates the way he knows her body like he worships upon it everyday on the hour, almost as though he had studied her every atom under a microscope in a lab. Lifting one of her legs over his shoulder, she whimpers at the deeper angle, her walls flutter around him and she can feel the stutter of his hips. “Your filthy cunt is fucking sucking me in. You’re like some kind of witch. Come on, give it to me, Sades, fucking hell.” Staring down at the way a string of saliva connects her mouth to his fingers when he pulls them out at a tantalisingly slow pace gives him an idea. “Open your mouth.”
The compliant side of her does so immediately, moaning at the way his spit crawls down her tongue, he nods, she swallows. The wetness of his fingers immediately reaches between her folds and finds her clit, matching the pace of his persistent thrusts. Her left hand scrapes his spine and her right hand rips at his hair. She loathes the way his hands make her fold, feeling her climax take over her entire soul, her eyes squeezing shut at the feeling. “I fucking hate you so much.”
The tone in which she utters this word has him spilling inside her with a pained groan. The pair hold each other tightly as they both hit their peak, Sadie comes down almost immediately from the way Matty rides out his high inside her, she hisses from the overstimulation. “Fucking hell.” His body collapses on top of hers and she whines at the scraping feeling she feels inside. “Pull out, please.” A muttering of a few more swear words from her mouth pulls him from the cloud he’s found himself on, ripping himself from her. The boy inside of him peers down at the sight of his release spilling from her, she groans and steadies herself at the thought of standing up and cleaning herself up.
“Stay here. I’ll be right back.” Her eyes fixate on the torn up skin of his back as he pulls his boxers back on and sneaks into the bathroom. When he emerges, he smirks at Sadie’s sleeping figure on the couch, her deep-set eyes gently fluttering as she gives in, her dark eyelashes resting upon the cheeks. The one word ringing in his mind, beautiful, is giving him a headache. He rubs at her bare thigh in a soft attempt to wake her up, between whispers of different variants of her name. “Just cleaning you up, darling.” She gently whines and rolls over.
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“Why are you asleep on the couch?” George is hanging over her like a bad smell, looking down at her with a raised eyebrow, she groans and pushes his face away with a stretch. The sudden memories of the previous night climb into her brain and start to take over, sneaking a glance down, she smirks at the sight of the cushions propped up gently and her clothes on her body. The slight bliss that was beginning to take over her being is interrupted by an unrecognisable, shrill laugh at the kitchen island. George silently communicates at her to keep her mouth shut.
“Morning, Sades! Bacon roll?” At Matty’s chipper tone, George knows all he needs to know, cradling his forehead in his hand. She snorts and sits up, finally getting a look at the girl who was clearly not good enough for Matty. Sadie would describe the girl as ‘nice’, nothing more and nothing less. She looks nice. Matty doesn’t like nice. The other two boys are sat at the kitchen island too, stuffing bacon in their mouths like it’s going to make their hangovers magically disappear. Sadie circles round the couch to stand behind Ross, giving Matty a curt nod before sitting on the last spare seat, right next to this unknown girl.
“I’m Sadie. Who are you?” Adam covers his laugh with a cough, George groans into his hand, Ross is blissfully unaware, and Matty has to stop himself from whipping around to shout at the girl. The poor, innocent girl looks round at Sadie like she’d just shot her dog. A shit eating grin overtakes her mouth, smiling up at Matty as he places a bacon roll in front of her. “Thank you very much! Smells so good!” The tone of her voice makes Adam’s laugh finally escape his mouth, when Miss Unknown turns to him, brows furrowed, he panics.
“Oh, we have fun here.” Sadie opts for taking a bite so none of her laughter sneaks out. What a shit excuse, Adam.
“I’m Daisy, it’s, erm, nice to meet you?” No words. Sadie has no words. Daisy is basically Sadie rearranged. She politely nods at Daisy and turns to face forward in her seat, no longer wanting to interact with anyone. She feels a dull ache in her chest as she watches the way Matty talks to Daisy, a miniscule part of her brain is begging him to look at her. He doesn’t, instead turning back to the pan and humming a merry tune. Sadie is practically snarling at his back, knowing that her very nails have left marks on the hidden skin. That’s all it is. Hidden. Matty clearly has a sudden thought with the way his movements stop.
“Want any sauce, darling?” Sadie doesn’t know what happened, she’ll claim to have blacked out.
“No thanks, Matty.” Her eyes widen. Daisy nearly chokes on her breakfast, poor girl. As if on auto-pilot, Sadie’s feet drag her to her bedroom, completely abandoning her breakfast. She’s sure they all heard the scream she forced into her pillow.
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The moon is the only thing lighting up Sadie’s room, the hopeful gleam staring right in her window. The Smashing Pumpkins ‘Oceania’ is humming into her ears as she edits a few photos from the night before, specifically avoiding the ones of Matty. A gentle knock on her door rips her from her daydream, pulling her eyes from the moon she murmurs a “Come in.”, shutting her laptop and turning round in her chair. But the sight of the man she’s avoiding draws a silent groan from her throat, she turns away.
“Hi. Can we talk?” He’s grovelling and she doesn’t know why. When met with silence he keeps talking. “We can’t keep dancing around this, it’s starting to hurt me. I can’t fucking look at you without wanting something from you, anything. I just want a sign of life, Sades.” She stares back out the window, wishing she lived in a house alone on the moon. But no, she’s here, face to face with everything wrong with her. All she knows how to do is shake her head.
“I don’t know what you want from me. I don’t have anything to say to you.” The way he takes a deep breath as he sits down on her bed makes her panic a bit, she knows that he’s about to hurt her feelings. It was just the honest truth, she didn’t have anything to say to him, what words could possibly come out of her mouth that he’d want to hear. Not a single thought in her head is something that should be said out loud to him.
“No, Sadie. What do you want from me? I am fucking sick of you, the sight of you, the way you’ll speak to the boys with no fucking malice in your tone, what did I do to you? And, what? Every two months you want me to fuck you and have it not mean anything? I can’t stand to be in your fucking presence everyday anymore, it’s draining me.” She zones out slightly, trying to will the lump in her throat to go away. Nothing that he had said warrants tears because he is also telling the honest truth.
“We’ve ruined it. Been friends eight years and fucking ruined it.” Shaking her head with a wet laugh she lets it fall to rest on her knee, a single tear slipping out. “Can’t believe there was a time we got on. Now you’re just horrible to me.” Bitter laughter takes over her ears and another tear falls. And another. Lifting her head she writes down the words, ‘wishing you could forget the present you’re living in’, in the notebook on her desk. The notebook is just full of shit, mostly angry shit, recently.
“You’re the horrible one. One day someone snapped their fingers and you turned on me. I can’t fuck around with you anymore, you’ve changed, and it makes me sick. To my stomach. And calling me horrible? Whatever.”
“You’re still talking if you weren’t aware.”
“Yes I was. Wasn’t done either.” Standing up and gesturing wildly, his bitter tongue still talks. She’s reduced to a pile of sobs on her desk chair, just watching, unable to make it stop. “I also find it quite frankly hilarious that you’re the first one to tell people that I’m the ‘worst person you’ve ever met’, it wasn’t that when we were shagging everyday four years ago.” Sadie sniffs a laugh at this, he’s contradicting himself by saying ‘she’s changed’ one second, then referencing a time Sadie actually liked him. “Oh! Another thing, telling George that I’m the only one you don’t say ‘I love you’ to is so strange. I’d like an explanation.” Walking over to her until he’s hanging over her, she has to look up and face his snarl. “Why? Why don’t you love me. I think you do and you’re just fucking scared of me, pathetic, by the way. I think you realised years-”
She interrupts him, unable to control the angry scream ripping from the depths of her lungs. “Stop! Just fucking stop! Get the fuck away from me.” He stills and cocks an eyebrow. “GO.”
A slam of a door and tears coming out in screams is all that’s heard through the flat.
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The next time Matty’s on stage doing what he loves, he isn’t sure he actually loves it anymore. He’s considering hiring a new photographer. Sadie’s been dancing round his feet all night, apparently unable to take a single photo of Matty, she’s taken more photos of Adam tonight than she probably ever has. The way in which he is performing is growing slightly more aggressive, standing on the stage, seething, unable to do anything about it. Could you imagine what the crowd would think if he started shouting at his photographer mid-show?
She smirks as she comes round the back to take a couple photos of George, he shakes his head at her, and she lets out a laugh. Shrugging her shoulders as if she’s done nothing wrong, she quickly realises that coming onto the stage to take photos was a mistake, Matty turns his back on the crowd briefly and whispers in her ear, “What the fuck are you doing?”
“What? Nothing? My job.” Turning back to the crowd with a scoff he keeps singing, Sadie takes a couple photos of the view from the back of the stage, looking out into the mass of people, she smiles at her camera knowing it’ll be a good shot. Exiting the stage from the left hand side she takes a minute to look through a couple of the photos she’s taken as she sips from her water bottle. The events manager approaches her and smiles.
“Why aren’t you taking as many photos of Matty?” The way her sickly sweet voice punctures Sadie’s ears makes her cringe a little bit. But she hides it with a returned smile in her direction and turns her body slightly towards her. Taking in her professional outfit she hides a laugh, how she’s not sweating is one of the wonders of the world. The way she was very clearly flirting with Matty before the show had pissed her off and Sadie knew she was only asking because she wanted to see photos of Matty.
“Don’t worry about it.” Walking all the way to the back of the hall with no more words said, Sadie scoffs when she’s no longer in hearing distance. Shaking her head she snaps a few more pictures before heading back to the dressing rooms, hearing the band finish the show she busies herself with looking through photos. She likes to pretend she doesn’t exist after the boys finish a show, they also like to pretend she doesn’t exist, mostly high on adrenaline. Since people had started taking the band more seriously, the energy at their shows has increased tenfold. So has their egos but Sadie never makes comment on it. Hearing the stomps of Matty down the halls has her realising that pretending she doesn’t exist isn’t an option today.
“What the fuck was that? You’re embarrassing yourself.” Slamming the door behind him, leaving just the two of them in the dressing room, Sadie rolls her eyes. She watches on as he grabs a wine glass and pours from the bottle, he takes a sip and groans, shaking his head. When their eyes meet, Sadie curls into herself a bit, intimidated. “Just utterly pathetic.”
“What’s pathetic? Me not wanting to see your face? Did you forget the things you said to me? Or are you going to blame that as a ‘heat of the moment’ thing like you always do?” The slam of his glass on the table makes her jump and he turns to her with nothing but malice in his eyes.
“No, you should be able to hold a level of professionalism that allows you to do your job no matter how you actually feel, Sadie. You’ve always managed to photograph me even if I have been in the wrong, but not today. I’m calling you pathetic because I thought you were more mature than you actually are. Turns out I was fucking wrong, hmm?” Matty is leaning over her, pointing a finger down at her. She stands up to defend herself.
“Actually, I think that you speak to me like I’m a piece of shit on the bottom of your shoe and then expect me to carry myself professionally when in reality just the sight of your face makes me want to punch it. And oh, I’ll just carry on taking my silly little pictures and pretend you don’t come off that stage and hurt my feelings. Every. Single. Day.”
“Oh, I hurt your feelings? Fuck off, Sadie.” With this he leaves the dressing room and slams the door behind him so hard that Sadie sees the mirror on the wall shake a bit. She has to hold her laugh in when he comes back in for the bottle of wine. She really struggles to hold it back when George comes in and gives her a look like she’s dumb.
“What?” When George just laughs at her she laughs too. She grabs the second bottle of wine from the table and takes pleasure in drinking straight from it. “Genuinely what was I supposed to do? Let him keep treating me like this?” George leans onto her shoulder when he sits down, his voice is sympathetic, and Sadie is having none of it.
“You could’ve gone about it a bit nicer.”
“Why would I be ‘a bit nicer’ after all he’s done to me?”
“Yeah, you’re right, fuck him.” With that George takes the bottle and starts drinking from it too.
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They’ve somehow ended up in a sleazy bar in Soho, they’d played just round the corner at some hall Sadie can’t remember to name. Matty’s still pissed, Sadie is very drunk, some would call this a recipe for disaster, George would call this a recipe for entertainment. Sadie has linked eyes with a notably cute guy a couple of times this evening, but she’s waiting for him to be the gentleman and make the first move to speak. As Adam stands up to get the next round she hears laughter from behind her and sees Matty flirting with some girl. She turns to Adam, “Get me a vodka shot, too.”
Adam really shouldn’t be encouraging her to drink anything that strong, but after clocking on to what Matty was doing he immediately adds it to the list of drinks he’s ordering. When it slides in front of her it’s down her throat practically before it’s even stopped sliding her direction. Ross grips her arm and laughs but she pays no mind to him, distracted by the bitter taste in her mouth, she’d be convinced the bitter taste wasn’t coming from the liquor. Eyeing the way Matty’s arm slings around the girl and his shoulders look slightly less tense she turns to search the crowd of people, looking for the guy who was eye-fucking her earlier. She leaps out the barstool when she sees him, throwing everything about wishing he was gentlemanly out the window. “Hi, I’m Sadie.”
“Theo, nice to meet you. I was gonna come over in a bit but here you are, like a dream in front of me.” Sadie laughs probably louder than she should’ve at this, hand coming down on his arm. At this Theo notices the lack of drink in her hand and rests a hand on her lower back, “Shall we go get you something to drink? On me, of course.” She lets him lead her back to all her friends, narrowly avoiding them as he leans over the bar to order her an espresso martini. She does not like espresso martinis.
“Thank you. I noticed your accent, Australian, right? What are you doing in England?” The small talk flows quite freely between the two as they exchange careers and anecdotes, Sadie finds it easy to talk to him. Not as easy as any of her actual friends but it’s good enough. She has to hold her breath anytime she takes a drink but they’re free, so she isn’t saying anything. Matty catches her eye for the first time since being distracted by the girl on his lap, when he catches a glimpse of the blonde boy standing next to her he shakes his head. She scowls at him and turns back to the boy, a bit closer than she was before.
“Do you wanna get out of here? Maybe back to my hotel?” Sadie doesn’t really hear him, she sees Matty shaking her head at something the girl is saying and when she starts shouting at him Sadie knows he’d just been asked the same question she has. Matty makes fleeting eye contact with her, making a look that reads ‘I dare you’. Turning back to Theo she nods her head, smiling up at the smug look on his face, shoving his arm slightly. She finishes her drink with a slight gag and grips onto his arm as he leads her out the front.
“How far is your hotel?” She’d love to know why she feels guilty.
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Sadie’s sitting on the doorstep to their flat building with mascara staining her cheeks. When she’d gotten back to Theo’s hotel she experienced something akin to a panic attack and basically ran out of there, he’d chased her just to make sure she was okay and when all she said was, “It isn’t your fault,” he knew that it was the other guy from the bar holding her back, the one from her friend group, “I just have to get back to my flat.”
Feeling nothing less than mortified, she couldn’t bring herself to go in, so she was sitting smoking on the doorstep with the entire evening playing on a loop in her head. Dropping her head to her knees with a sigh she let one more tear fall before putting out her cig with her shoe and opening the door behind her. When she opens the door to the flat she’s met with silence, unsure if anyone’s home until she hears George snoring and a strum of a guitar in the room next to hers. Upon realising he’s the only other person awake she admits defeat and heads to her own room.
After brushing her teeth in the bathroom and grabbing water and some painkillers from the kitchen, she opens her bedroom door to Matty standing, staring down at her. Shutting the door behind her she looks up at him with a fixed glare, silently wishing he’d brush past her and shut the door so she could sleep. But no, as she shuts the door behind her she finds herself slammed against it. “You’re so fucking pathetic, Sades.” It might be the slight buzz she still feels in her head, but his words paired with his hands on her hips hit her right in her core, feeling like her head is about to float right off her shoulders.
“Matty, you’re just here to fuck with my head.” She really tried to make her words believable but the way she trails off into a whine makes it seem quite the opposite. The way in which her body always reacts to him the way he wants will forever make her angry, staring up at him trying to keep her glare steady on her face. It proves hard when Matty’s face moves down to her neck, attacking it with his lips, practically taunting her by the way he leans back up to swallow the moan that leaves her mouth.
She fights her body, trying her hardest to not kiss him back, but the way his tongue is licking into her mouth makes her desperate for anything he’ll give her. “Think you can just go fuck anyone, hmm? You’re wrong, angel. Belong to me, don’t you?” The scowl that takes over her features makes him smirk down at her. “Pretty when you’re angry. Gonna let me show you who you belong to?” She doesn’t want to nod but of course her body is doing things without her brains consent. To be fair said brain is actively turning to mush and melting out of her ears.
“Matty, please. Hurting my head.” After a quick glance up from her neck, he realises she doesn’t mean that literally, but instead she means that his actions are confusing her. He’s too in the moment to care, dragging her to the bed to put her out of her misery. The feeling of the mattress on her back makes her sigh in pleasure, he smirks down at her, working his hands under her, way too big, jumper as he hovers over her, moving down at a teasingly slow pace. She writhes on the bed until his hands take a strong grip of her hips, dragging them to the bottom of the bed before holding her in place as he kisses from her knee to her thigh. “Fuck, why do you always come crawling back to me? Just told me you can’t fuck me anymore.”
“I can’t get enough.” Letting go of her hips to move her panties down her thighs, her hands whip to his hair as she feels a puff of cold air blown onto her clit, her heart stopping in her chest at the feeling. He growls into her dripping cunt, licking a stripe up it before feeling her thighs squeeze his face, moving his hands round them to keep them apart. “Be good. Keep quiet. Maybe I’ll let you cum.” The whine that leaves her mouth is involuntarily and goes against what he’d just said, she knows she’s fucking in for it now.
Lowering her voice to a whisper she leans up onto her elbows, “Matty, do something.” Brown eyes looking into her blue ones with a teasing glint he gives her another kitten lick and her elbows give out on her, back arching from the mattress. The teasing pace of his tongue is making the whole ‘keep quiet’ thing impossible for Sadie, her entire fist is in her mouth at this point and her brain is wondering where on earth he learned how to do this. Sure, he’s eaten her out many times before, but this is her first time realising how good at it he’d gotten. “Please, stop teasing.”
Humming into her wetness, he ponders on whether he should give her more or not. Does she deserve it? “Me stop teasing you? Oh, angel. Take your own advice.” Something about the way she whimpers spurs him on to, in fact, stop teasing. Giving in to her immediately, his tongue finds her clit and picks up the pace by the most miniscule amount. Unwrapping one of his hands from her thigh, his fingers find her entrance, ever teasing, but finding their way in after she hisses down at him to stop.
When he parts for a breather Sadie can see her slick on his chin and the sight brings out something carnal in her. She grabs his chin and pulls him up to her level, smashing their lips together as if they’re running out of time. Pulling away from her, Matty looks down at her, jaw slightly slack. “Like tasting yourself? What do you want, angel? Speak to me.” His digits still slipping deeper into her makes it incredibly difficult for her to formulate words, after whining at him and being met with a cocked eyebrow, she manages.
“Want you.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Just fuck me, Matty.” He doesn’t relent. Hands speeding up, kisses draped across her neck, his other hand finding it’s way up her jumper, squeezing her tits. Determined to pull at least one orgasm from her before giving in to what she wants. He groans into her neck when he feels how tight she’s squeezing his two fingers. “I’m gonna cum.”
“Let go then, angel. Give it to me, all over my fingers, gonna make a mess?” Frantically nodding, she feels her brain fading away into nothingness before his lips wrap around hers. Laying still, not kissing back, her orgasm takes over her being, Matty practically chews her moans with his teeth as if they were tangible. With a whine she rips his hand from between her thighs and finally gives in to the feeling of his lips on hers, kissing back with fervour. He pulls away to glance at his fingers, smothered in her arousal, the sight alone would’ve made him hard if he wasn’t already. Opening her mouth without having to be told to, she takes his two fingers into her mouth, sucking tiredly at them. “You tired?” Taking his hand out of her mouth to hear her reply, he smiles down at her blown out pupils.
“Fuck me, please.” Sometimes she can’t help but make the same mistakes.
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Sadie had woken up hours ago. Some sick part of her is forcing her to stay in bed, under his arms, in his t-shirt. There’s an air of domesticity surrounding the pair, the way his dark eyelashes flutter slightly in his sleep has Sadie enamoured. Silently wishing things could be easier, with a sigh. Her brain starts to ponder on where things went wrong, and who might’ve been at fault, when she didn’t like the conclusion she came to she shut her eyes. Matty must’ve felt the way her body shook slightly, waking up slowly with a long stretch. “What you crying for?”
“I don’t know.” He squeezes his arms slightly tighter around her and wipes a tear from her cheek, unable to stop the concerned expression from taking over his features. Rubbing a soothing hand down her back, he shushes her until she’s calm, looking down at her slightly with an encouraging glint in his eye. “I just feel shit about the point we’ve gotten to. Wish we were 16 again.”
“Angel, don’t feel shit. I’ve been a dick to you recently and I’m sorry, I just don’t know how to speak to you anymore.” Sadie nods against his arm at his words, the soft smile taking over his face makes her feel at home. He looks like he’s 18 again in the mornings. It makes Sadie feel a bit sick.
“I don’t know how to speak to you either. We’ve spent everyday together for as long as I can remember, but it’s like you changed without me realising.” Matty hanging off of every word she says enhances the sick feeling in her stomach and she looks away from him. Grabbing her water from the bedside table she cradles her headache with her other hand and hears Matty laughing at her from behind. Putting her water back down she hits his chest and stands up. “I can’t have this conversation with you. I think I need to fucking find my own place. Then Ross and Adam can actually have their own rooms instead of being forced to share. Think it would be best for everyone.” Being met with a head of curls frantically shaking, she sighs.
“You can’t.”
“I will. Watch me.”
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too-antigonish · 1 day
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Morse and drinking in the 70s...
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Long....because I can't write short. And obviously, a lot of you will already know this stuff...
Just want to take a moment to talk about alcohol and alcoholism in the context of the early 1970s and remind folks of how totally and completely different it is from how we see it today.
Drunk driving had not been outlawed in most countries. Not only that, it was widely regarding as funny—funny enough to be used as a regular “gag” in movies. Problem drinking was also seen as funny. There were regular cartoon strips about it. The “drunk” was a funny stock character in all sorts of plays and movies.
Alcohol was ubiquitous. We’re not just talking liquid lunches. We’re talking drinking at work, while you work—just as you see in Endeavour. Think about that for a second.
And politely saying no wasn’t something you did without social consequences. It wasn’t just seen as a personal preference. Unless you had a specific, acceptable reason, turning down a drink was often seen as stand-offish and judgmental or as a social snub. Teetotalism was regarded as rather naive and ridiculous—not something any man or woman of the world would embrace.
In the early 1970s, there was no widespread understanding of alcoholism as a disease. It was still seen very much as the consequence of personal weakness—still a matter of “If you cared enough or tried hard enough, you wouldn’t do this so it must be a character flaw.”
Plus, most people, “normal” people don’t have problems with alcohol, so if you do then there’s something abnormal and defective about you—most likely something you brought upon yourself.
And as a “personal weakness” and a “defect,” the shame around it was profound and the secrecy matched. If someone went away for treatment, it was very much akin to an unwed mother going off to have her baby and then returning without the child. You never spoke of it. You pretended that it had never happened.
If you were a kind person, you also didn’t go out of your way to parade babies in front of her or talk constantly about children when she was with you. But refer to it directly? Never. Ask for help? Never. It was always something to be hidden. Everyone did their best to forget that it had ever happened and saw this as the "kindest" thing to do.
When Morse returns from his “cure,” it would simply be assumed that everyone would pretend that nothing unusual has happened. Why he’s  just been off on a tour of the West Country and nothing else! Hope you had a lovely time! That sort of polite fiction was exactly what he would have expected upon his return. Anything more direct—at least in a public setting—would have been shocking to him and everyone else.
Where things break down, however, is in the more personal interactions. His relationship with Thursday is such that they can at least broach the topic of drinking. When they do, my impression is that Thursday is well-aware that Morse not “cured.” However, in the context of the time, saying this would be akin to saying, "You failed," because there was no disease model of alcholism in widespread use. You went to be cured and it worked or it didn't.
However, I'd also add that Thursday is almost to the breaking point with the cumulative strain he is under. He can’t cope with the “burden” of Morse being in a precarious state and he knows it. He feels desperately guilty about that—as well as about other things like Strange and Joan or about life having moved on so much while Morse was gone—and so he just shuts down. 
Shutting down is Thursday’s go-to strategy when he’s overwhelmed. We’ve seen him do it many times before. And part of that for him, is that he pretends that the people around him are ok—even if they are anything but ok. Not surprisingly, he does it the most with the people he has the closest emotional ties with—Win, Joan, Sam, and Morse.
So the only way that Thursday can cope is by having Morse be perfectly fine. Conveniently, his preferred coping strategy fits exactly with his society's expectations about how alcoholism works. If Morse is "cured," you don’t need to worry about sparing him the constant offers of alcohol in the same way that the young unwed mother might hope to be spared babies. You certainly wouldn’t embarrass him (especially after he’s been through the humiliation of rehab) by drawing attention in any way to a possible to the idea that he still has a problem. 
And finally, a last note on time context. The scene in the pub where Morse has that first drink after finding out that Joan is marrying Jim is utterly heartbreaking for so many reasons. One of those reasons, however, is that we know it’s the first drink—and that the first drink leads to the second, and so on and so forth. Then Morse says to Thursday, “They said the, the odd beer, the odd shot, does no harm…"Everything in moderation," they said,”  and we automatically assume he’s lying.
I’m fairly sure that those scenes were meant to be interpreted through our modern viewpoint. However, it’s worth noting that again, the model of alcoholism in the 1970s was nothing like what we have today. The idea that someone with a drinking problem/addictions needs to abstain entirely was not even close to universal at that point. It’s perfectly possible that the advice Morse is quoting is the advice he received!
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im-sleepdeprived · 2 days
Text
Crazier • Pt. 3
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pairing: mcu!peter parker x reader
a/n: ITS FINALLY HERE omg I loved writing this series so much i had a blast. thank you for everyone who was asking me about part 3 because it felt amazing knowing you enjoyed it as much as me😭💕💕 i hope you enjoy !! (beware, she is long)
warnings: some angst thrown in here and there, fluff (later), mentions of breakups, mentions of cheating, very very brief mention of suicide ( someone mentions and old author who offed themselves), me not knowing anything about theater (I apologize in advance), glitter
read part 1 here & part 2 , masterlist
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"And when we got the chair, Brad made me sit in it and he pushed me around the whole school!" You were telling Spider-Man about your day, and as always, he listened politely, only chiming every now and then. 
"Wow, you and this Brad guy sure did a lot together today, huh?" He said, and even with the voice changer, you could tell he sounded a bit off. "I mean yeah! He's a great guy, way cooler than I originally thought.” You told him, making him grind his teeth hard, not that you saw that. 
"Actually I'm a little upset that the play is about to come to an end." Your voice gets a little softer as you confess what's been on your mind today. "The rehearsals have been a blast, and the people are amazing and it's been such a good distraction from everything. I'm really sad to see it go," you looked down at your hands. 
Peter took one look at your expression and knew there was something else you weren't telling him. "Well what kinds of things do you need a distraction from?" he asked carefully.
"Um," you looked anywhere but at him, "well, my parents have been fighting a lot lately and it's just been really hard to be around the house, everything's so tense."
His lips parted but nothing came out. He knew about your parents, of course, whenever things got bad you'd always run over to his place to hang out. But now you couldn't do that anymore, so you were just looking for any way to avoid coming home for as long as you could. 
"And of course, there's that whole breakup." you continued. "But I've been pretty good at ignoring that so far, and I think that's just the way I'll keep going." You drummed your fingers on your thigh as you stared into nothing.
"Do you really think that's the best way to go about it?" He asked hesitantly. "Maybe you shouldn't just completely ignore something like that."
You gave him a questioning look, "And why wouldn't I want to forget about it? Isn't that what you're supposed to do eventually after a breakup?"
"Yeah, eventually," he repeated, "but wasn't that relationship a big part of you? Ignoring everything isn't gonna make all your feelings go away. You have to face your emotions, embrace them, and go through the motions before moving on."
He hated that you seemed to be fine all of a sudden. That you were getting so close with this Brad guy all of a sudden. It might've been selfish, but Peter didn't wanna see you moving on just yet, he still had a tiny hope in the back of his brain that you might take him back if he waited till just the right time. But the more you kept talking, the more that tiny hope diminished. 
You snorted, "Ok Dr. Spider-Man, I'm not sure a guy running around New York in a bright onesie is qualified to give out relationship advice, but you do you.”
He couldn't help but let out a laugh. "I'll let you know I give out great relationship advice and I'm not wearing a onesie," he huffed. "It's a super suit."
That just made you laugh harder, "Yeah, sure, whatever dude."
"So you and your team won?" he asked. He wasn't about to waste the only time in the day when he got to speak with you being jealous. He was gonna keep this conversation going. Try his best to give you what he never could as Peter. 
"Yes!" you beamed. "Oh and look," you scrambled around looking for the crown you had received after you won. You had brought it up with you just so you could show him. 
You put it on and straightened your posture, "We were rewarded with these fabulous crowns.”
Spider-Man let out a loud laugh. "Wow, you look like true royalty."
"Don't I?" you grinned. "I always wanted to be a princess when I grew up, so this is very fitting for me." You tapped the crown lightly and grinned at him.
Peter was sure he was grinning like a lovesick idiot. He remembered you telling him this, your crazy childhood dream during one of your late-night talks. He truly believed that if anyone in this whole world were some kind of royalty, it would be you.
“Just like Rapunzel.” He murmured. Your head perked up at that. “Oh my god,” you rush, “YES! Holy shit! She was my absolute favorite as a kid, how'd you know that?”
He fumbles a little but quickly finds himself. “You were humming ‘I See The Light’ a couple days ago. It was an educated guess.” You can hear the grin in his voice. “Glad to know I got it right though.”
You laughed a little and settled back down. “Dude, I'm not kidding. I used to eat yellow flowers as a kid 'cause I thought they’d give me magic hair.”
At that, Peter loses his mind. He’s cracking up and you're joining in beside him. This, he thinks to himself. This is what he’s been missing. This is how things should be. He can't help himself, the words are leaving his mouth before he can even gather his thoughts.
“So what about your ex? How’ve things been going with him?” Nice going dumbass. She's never gonna wanna talk with you again if you keep mentioning her ex-boyfriend.
You looked at him weirdly and started twisting the ring on your finger. “Why do you wanna know?”
“I-just I…” he scratched the back of his neck, “Well actually, I'm going through a breakup too, right now, and I guess…I don't know, hearing you talk about it, about him, makes me feel less alone.”
Peter Parker feels like shit. He feels like a total asshole. And yet, he doesn't feel bad enough to stop, to come clean. Not yet at least. He tried making himself feel better by thinking, ‘Well it's not a lie. I am going through a breakup. She just doesn't know with who.’
You stared up at him, shocked. He never shared anything about himself. Not a thing. You two joked back and forth but you were usually the one sharing personal issues (or triumphs, like today). You start to wonder what his personal life looks like. He can't be that much older than you from what you can tell by his sense of humor and some of his references. This man, no, boy, who spends practically all his time running around one of the most popular cities in the world, saving lives and changing them, is going through a breakup. And he’s currently sitting on a rooftop with you and talking about it.
You blew out a long breath. “If Spider-Man can’t find love, none of us stand a chance.”
He let out a soft laugh at that. “Ah, I wouldn't say that. I definitely have my fair share of flaws. And then some.”
You shake your head, “I'm sure the good outweighs the bad. I mean, come on,” you gestured towards him.
He laughed again. “So tell me, you still see him every day, right?
You nodded, deciding that if this made him feel less alone, you could do this. 
“Is it hard?”
You shrugged, “Honestly, I have no idea. I’ve been avoiding him like the plague. I’ve only run into him once and it was when me and another friend went to grab ice cream at our old hangout spot. I couldn’t look at him. I haven’t spoken to him since everything and I don’t really want to. Not anytime soon.”
He sighed. Of course, you didn’t wanna speak to him as Peter. He’d totally fucked you over, he’s lucky he found any kind of loophole at all because he really doesn’t think he can handle not speaking completely. 
“How do you think he feels?” He has no clue where the question came from but now that he’s asked, he can’t help the curiosity bubbling in him.
You run a hand through your hair and sigh, “I have no idea. One second he’s avoiding eye contact in the school hallway and the next, he’s staring daggers at me in an ice cream shop. He’s weird.”
Spider-Man chuckled lightly, “Yeah, he sounds like he is.”
“Do you see your ex a lot?” You hope he doesn’t see it as prying, you just want to see how similar your situations are. 
“Yeah, actually, I do.” He nods but says nothing else. 
“Is it hard?” You ask softly. 
He nods again, keeping his eyes low. “Crazy hard. Especially when I know everything is my fault.”
“Do you think she’d ever forgive you?” He only shrugged. “Do you want her to forgive you?”
He looks up at you, “Would you ever forgive your ex? After whatever it is that he did, I mean.”
You took a moment to think. “I don’t know. I think it’s different. I mean, I don’t know what happened between you guys, but I think with Peter and I, I think he was starting to lose interest.”
He can feel his heart drop. “What? Why would you say that?”
“Yeah,” you continued, not taking notice of the spider slightly freaking out beside you, “he just stopped caring. Stopped showing up, and stopped listening. If I didn’t know any better I’d actually think he’d cheated on me.”
“No way! I mean-,” he cleared his throat a little, trying not to sound as anxious as he felt, “Do you… do you actually that he did? Cheated, I mean. Do you seriously think he cheated on you?”
Please say no, please say no, please say-
“No, of course not,” you told him honestly. “Peter’s a lot of things, but he’s not a cheater. I’d accuse him of that.” You paused for a moment. “But there was something…I don’t know what. There was something he wasn’t telling me.”
He let out a breath of relief. Thank god, he doesn’t think he could’ve handled knowing you thought of him that way. And it’s true, he would’ve never stooped so low. As for the ‘something’…
“Say he were to show up, right now, knocking on your door. Begging to have you back and swearing that he’s changed. Would it work?” He asked half serious and half joking.
You laughed a little, “No, but it’d probably piss off my parents.”
He grinned beside you, his mask shifting slightly at the movement. “Aw come on. Not one for big romantic gestures?” He nudged your shoulder a little.
You smiled but your expression fell as you thought about his words some more. “No, I’m just not one for empty promises. Which is all he had to give me after a while. He used to be amazing, he used to be the perfect boyfriend. The Peter I knew disappeared and I wasn’t a fan of the one who replaced him.”
You look up at him and grin. “If there’s any chance of anything being repaired between us. Even a friendship. He’s gonna need to get his shit together.”
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“So he cheated on her, which fueled her depression, and ultimately led to her suicide. And that wasn’t enough so he burned her most of her work, and profited off of the rest of it after she died!”
This is what your mornings looked like lately. Hanging out with MJ so much had been…interesting to say the least. There was always something you could learn from her. Currently, she was telling you all about some ancient female author’s shitty husband as you waited beside her locker while she grabbed everything she’d need for her next class. 
“Every article online about it says ‘allegedly’ but fuck that. It’s totally the truth,” She finished. 
“God. That sounds awful,” you grimaced. “Whatever happened to him? Didn’t they have kids?”
“Oh, he married someone, won a ton of awards everyone loved him. And yes, a son, who also dies by suicide, and a daughter. I'm pretty sure she writes kids' books now.”
You sucked in a breath. “Holy shit. And where did you learn all this?”
She shrugged. “I read a lot.”
“Right,” you nod, unable to completely shake off the grossness that story left you feeling. “So,” you started, hoping to change the subject. “What do you have next again?”
“Biology. But I think we have a sub today, so that’ll be fun.” She slammed her locker shut, leaned on it slightly, and turned toward you. “What about you?”
You shook your head at her, “Free period. I was gonna catch up on my reading for AP Lit. Hey,” you wondered aloud, “is it that sub that marks people tardy even if they’re a second late? I can’t stand him.”
She sprung up. “Shit. Shit. Fuck,” she rushed out. “It is. And I can’t get another tardy otherwise I get detention. Again. And my parents would kill me.”
You nodded, completely understanding. “Okay. Well, I’m just gonna go grab my stuff and head to the library. See you later!”
“Bye Y/N/N!” She yelled over her shoulder, already halfway down the hall. 
You laughed lightly before heading to your own locker. You opened it and grabbed your bag when you felt a tap on your shoulder. 
You slam your locker shut and turn around, only to come face to face with Brad. “Hey, Brad!” You grinned. 
You’d never really noticed Brad before. You never had anything against him, you both just ran in different crowds. Even after you both started working on the play, you were friendly with each other but it never went past a simple smile, wave, or quick ‘hello’. But in light of recent events, you were really starting to think of him as a friend.
“Hey.” He smiled right back. “Saw you here and thought I’d just stop by and ask how you’ve been.”
You gave him a closed-lip smile as you leaned back against the lockers. “That’s sweet. I’ve been okay, long morning though. What about you?”
He nodded. “Same. Stayed up pretty late last night going over my lines.”
“Really? Don’t really think you need that. I’ve seen you at rehearsals, you’re a natural Brad.”
“Yeah? You think?” He grinned wide at your compliment and ran a hand over his hair. “I’ve got ‘em memorized and all, but I just wanna make sure I know them, y’know?”
You nodded. He wants to make sure his delivery is as good as his memory. That’s another thing you didn’t expect from Brad Davis. His passion for theater. 
“Well like I said, I’ve seen you at rehearsals and I mean it when I say I think you’re fine. More than fine actually. So don’t stress yourself out Davis, you’re gonna be amazing.”
He beamed at you like a child. “Thank you Y/N, seriously. You don’t know how much that means.”
You smiled right back at him. “Anytime.”
It was quiet between you two for a bit, and you didn’t really know what to say. You were about to ask if he had a class he needed to get to when, suddenly, he took a few steps closer to you. 
That automatically took any words that might’ve been on your tongue and threw them in the dumpster behind the school. 
“There’s um, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you, actually.” His voice is softer but, you hear every word and you can almost feel his breath on your face. 
“Oh?” Your voice matches his volume. This can't be happening. He knows you just broke up with Peter. He’s gotta be kidding. Or maybe, he’s about to ask something about the play. Yes, you think, he’s got a question about the play and he’s come to ask me, obviously, because I’m the director. 
The halls are quiet now, everyone else is in class, at the library, or something. It's just you and Brad, standing so close you could count his lashes. 
Just you and Brad. Brad, who won’t stop staring into your eyes for some reason, so you’re just left standing there….you and Brad.
And Peter. 
The sound of squeaky sneakers running down the hall seems to break him out of whatever trance he was held in and he steps back a bit, almost causing you to let out an audible sigh of relief. God, you could just kiss the person who decided to unintentionally interrupt whatever moment was just happening between you two. 
Or not. 
Because when you both turned to see who it was, your heart fell. Peter Parker is standing there, backpack hanging off his elbow, binder bursting with loose papers in hand, and staring at you like a deer caught in headlights. 
For a second, none of you say anything. Brad’s looking confused, staring at Peter. Peter is looking at you, then at Brad, then at you again. And you, well, you’re just wishing the school hallway would split in half and swallow you whole. You’ve run through a few different scenarios in your head, and falling into the earth’s core sounds the most appealing. 
Then Peter moves closer, clearing his throat as he approaches the both of you. “Hey guys, how’ve you been?” He asked. 
Neither you nor Brad replied. 
“Right. Hey man,” he turned to face Brad, his face suddenly serious, “don’t you drive a black BMW? Red rims, red interior?”
“Um, yeah, I do,” Brad answered skeptically. 
Peter blew out a long breath. “Think you might be in trouble dude. I just heard the principal saying he was gonna get it towed, something about you parking wrong.”
“What?!” Brad’s whole demeanor changed on a dime and you almost felt sorry for him. 
Peter held up both his hands. “I’m serious man, that’s what I heard. But don’t ask me,” he pointed to the hall behind him, “go ask Mr. Morita.” 
Brad stared at you for a moment before walking off, mumbling something about ‘another fucking ticket’ as you watched him leave. You almost grabbed his arm like a child, almost asked him to stay, just so you wouldn’t be alone with Peter. 
You swallowed. Brad had finally turned the corner, leaving him officially out of your eyesight and leaving you standing alone with your ex. It’s funny really, how you went from talking about suicidal classic authors with your friend a few minutes ago, to this. 
Yup, the Earth’s core sounds amazing right now.
For all the words he had to say when Brad was here, Peter was awfully silent now, doing that weird stare thing he did in the ice cream shop the other day. But there was no Ned to play polite this time, and no MJ to hold on a leash so she doesn’t bite. It was just you and him. 
And you had no problem running. 
You turned so quick, it took him a second to register the movement, and by the time he did, you were halfway down the hall. He ran after you. 
“Y/N, wait. Please.” He reached out a hand to place on your shoulder. You jerked away, his hand barely brushing your cardigan. 
You’re both standing in the hallway, and you’re still avoiding his eyes when you say, “We’re not doing this.” You shook your head and ran off, leaving a somber-eyed Peter in your wake.
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There was no parking violation. Peter lied. But he had to. 
He’d gotten caught up doing some last-minute homework in the library. Spider-Man duties were keeping him busy lately because when he wasn’t fighting crime on the streets of Queens, he was spending time with you. 
He knows it isn’t right, he knows it isn’t fair, but god if it doesn’t feel good. He loves spending time with you and he hates that he can’t do it more often, hates even more that it’s his fault. And he damn sure wasn’t going to cut your meetups short because he had a few math questions waiting to be answered. 
So on his way back, the halls were empty when he suddenly heard a very familiar voice. You. 
But you were with someone. Brad. The thought made him roll his eyes. 
You were currently going off about how great Brad was doing so far in his role in the play you were managing. Stupid Brad, Peter was sure the only reason anything was going right in the planning of the show was because of you, you were the best person they could’ve picked for the job and all Brad had to do was say a few lines. You were the one who dealt with everything else. Brad should’ve been praising you, not the other way around.
He’d heard Brad’s response to your compliments and almost rolled his eyes again until he heard your response. Of course, you were being an absolute sweetheart. You probably had no clue what words like that meant coming for someone like you. You were probably oblivious to your effect on people, as you were probably oblivious to Brad’s true feelings about you.
You both went quiet for a moment, leaving Peter to wonder what happened when he heard Brad’s voice again. 
“There’s um, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you, actually.”
No. 
No, no, no, no. No. 
If he were totally honest with himself, he knew it was coming. Especially after you told him about your little scavenger hunt around the school, and how well you got along with him, how kind he was being towards you. Brad didn’t just randomly see you in the hall and decide to say ‘hey’. He had class. Peter knew because he was supposed to be in that exact class right now.
He could handle another detention. 
Before he even knew it, he was running down the halls. He had no idea what he was going to do, even less what he was going to say but none of that mattered at the moment. He just had to make sure this didn’t go any further. There was no way he could stand by and listen to you agree to go out with some other guy. 
And then he was standing there, you’d both seen him, and it was too late to turn back. He stared for a minute, noticing how close Brad was standing next to you. His gaze flickered between you and him and all he could think was how wrong it would be for you to end up with someone like Brad. Stupid, stupid Brad, who hung out with all the stupid jocks, and threw those stupid house parties all the time. Who only talked about his stupid car, and what model it was-
An Idea popped into his head. 
He couldn’t help it. Bro Peter stepped out and dealt with Brad, knowing the one thing that would completely get rid of him at the moment. He wasn’t thinking about the consequences. 
As he’d suspected Brad left with almost no hesitation, Peter almost doubling over with how quickly he fell for it. 
And then, he was left with you, and every ounce of confidence, every word in his lifelong vocabulary, crumbled. It never ceased to amaze him how easily you could completely undo him. He was an avenger, for crying out loud, he had literally saved New York and, he didn’t want to sound cocky but, the world. He had faced villains, of all sorts, so despicable, it’s a wonder he’s alive at all. But he did it. 
But you…. He’s never felt like this before. So nervous, anxious, and scared to mess something up when all he wants is to fix it. In the superhero world, stunned silence isn’t an option. One moment of hesitation and everything could go to shit. But now, he’s not sure what the best course of action is. He’s not sure if speaking to you will make things worse, or better. If saying anything at all will give him more of a fighting chance. Was there even any chance of a fighting chance?
He didn’t miss how you hadn’t said a word and all he could think was ‘Please talk! Say something! Give me a hint for what I’m supposed to say!”
He was just stuck in place, staring directly at your face taking in your expression. You wouldn’t meet his eyes and there was no stopping the pang of guilt in his gut. You looked skittish, and it should’ve been no surprise to him when you turned to take off but it still took him a second to shake off that moment. 
Just a second though, because soon he was running right after you. He wasn’t going to let you off so easy this time. 
He’d called for you to stop, reaching his hand for your shoulder in hopes of getting you to listen. The way you jerk back as if his touch might burn you snaps something in him. 
And there they are, your first words to him (Peter him) since the breakup:
“We’re not doing this.”
And you’re already moving away again, already slipping away from him again while his hand hangs in the air. He almost touched you. Maybe it was better that he didn’t because he thought he might’ve never let go. 
He’s not sure if you meant what you told him as Spider-Man. Maybe it was just another one of your jokes. But he’s not ready to give up hope yet. He’ll give you time if that's what you need, he’s just scared of who else might try to make their move during that time. 
For now, he’s just gonna work on getting his shit together. 
And that starts with going to class, and getting his work turned in.
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There’s a buzz in the air when you enter the auditorium the next day, that can only be described as highly-caffeinated-extremely-enthusiastic-high-school-theater-kids. You were all feeling the anticipation of your work these past few weeks being shared with all your friends and family. 
You were walking around checking up on the last-minute touchups. You walked up on stage and stopped in your tracks. “Oh my god,” your hand flies up to your mouth, “you guys! This is beautiful!”
The set group (Noah, Lacy, and Jack) all grinned up at you. They all had some form of paint on them. Lacy adorned a pair of overalls that consisted of black and navy blue splatters going up and down the front of her. Jack’s T-shirt looked as if it were being used as a rag for his hands, so there were so many colors intertwining with each other, that you couldn’t pick out a single one. Noah was the messiest of the group, this specific set being mostly his responsibility. The knees of his jeans were stained black, but it didn’t end there. He looked like a tornado of night, with all sorts of shades clinging to any visible part of him. Blues, blacks, indigos, you name it. And they were all gleaming with pride. 
“Hey Y/N,” Noah beamed at you. “We just finished the last backdrop.”
Behind them all was the backdrop which would be used for the last scene of the play. Lexi and Brad (or Stephanie and Gabriel, per the script) would stand in front of it and finally declare their love for one another, commencing their forever after with a passionate kiss. 
You knew it was supposed to be a night sky, but what you hadn’t known was how well of a job they would do. 
You let out a breathless laugh. “I can see that. It's stunning you guys, truly.” Although Midtown High was a school that specialized in the education of science and technology, the students here were extremely in touch with their creative sides as well. And that fact had never been more obvious to you than in that moment. 
“There's still one more finishing touch, and then it’ll be perfect.” Lacy grinned at you before running backstage. 
You were staring at where she'd just been, a furrow in your brows, when Jack nudged you lightly, “Oh, this is what she’s been waiting for since we started.”
Lacy came back, almost tripping over herself with how fast she was running. She held up a jar that sparkled in the auditorium lights as she moved it around, “Glitter!”
You grinned and clapped your hands together, “Oh I’m so happy I get to be here for this.”
Noah and Jack stood to the side while you and Lacy approached the large backdrop from the side. She made quick work of unscrewing the top and setting it beside her. She leaned over slightly and tilted the jar a tad before sprinkling it over the spacious work of art. 
If sprinkling glitter were a profession, Lacy would be a pro. 
You quickly figured out why she was so excited about this step, and it wasn’t just the glitter. Adding the glitter gave the scene more life. It made it look as if it were real, and you were looking at a sky bursting with sparkling stars.
 After getting the area in front of her, she turns to you, holding out the jar. “Here! Give it a go.”
You stared a her a bit before quickly shaking your head, “Lace, I never thought someone could be good at sprinkling glitter, yet here I am. You were like a freaking fairy! I’d totally ruin it, and I can’t do that to you guys.”
You held your hands up and started backing away slowly. You could hear Jack and Noah laughing behind you. 
Lacy just rolled her eyes with a smile stuck on her face. “Nonsense, Y/N, you’re a pro at everything you do,” she lowered her voice a little, “like that scavenger hunt?”
You gave her a look before turning around to make sure Mrs. Lightbody was nowhere around. “None of that,” you hiss, “that was a one-time thing! And it was a group effort!”
“Oh come on,” Noah this time. “We all know you had the hardest list of the bunch. Seriously Y/N, if Brad hadn’t shown me the list, I never would’ve believed that you did all that.”
Jack nodded. “Honestly, me and Lace wrote that as a little joke, like, ‘Hey, what if we were really wild with this? What would we do?’ And you came and proved us all wrong.”
Lacy hummed her agreement, “What they said, exactly. And this is just a bit of glitter. No big deal!” She grabbed your arm and pulled you towards her. 
You laughed lightly, feeling yourself grow a little flustered under their praises. You grabbed the jar of glitter from Lacy and went to work, being extra careful so you don’t ruin all their hard work.
“This is good glitter,” you say softly, completely concentrated on the task at hand. 
“Oh my gosh! I know right!” Lacy practically squeals her response. You laughed but could hear Noah groaning behind you. You finish with the glitter, screwing it shut before turning back to face him. 
“There’s no such thing as ‘good glitter’,” He did air quotes on that last part, sounding extremely frustrated and something told you this wasn’t the first time they had this conversation.
“Yes, there is! She just said so!” Lacy was standing her ground. Suddenly, she turned towards you, “Y’know who can settle this? Lexi. Go find her Y/N, take the glitter, and ask her what she thinks. She’s gonna agree with me, I can already feel it.”
You held in a laugh. “Sure thing Lace.” You turn to go find your other friend and as you're walking away you can still hear them arguing, Noah not convinced that glitter could be good or bad. It’s just glitter. 
You walked around the auditorium looking for Lexi and failing to find her. You started asking around, feeling sure that someone had to have seen her. You knew she was here, having seen her enter at the start of rehearsals. Walking around the front of the auditorium, peering down aisles, you were about to go check backstage when you heard a Brad Davis.
Now you’re not sure why, you didn’t do anything wrong after all, but a panic settled in you. Next thing you knew, you jumped into one of the aisles and crouched down. 
He was walking up the main row between the chairs, script in hand, talking to someone beside him who you couldn’t see. They were moving closer to you. Shit. 
In a rush, you start crawling, crawling, down to the opposite side of the aisle they were approaching. You were almost out, but you accidentally pulled down one of the chairs that are built to automatically flip up. Not a loud noise, but loud enough. You wince but don’t stop until you're sitting against the side of the row of chairs, out of their sight. 
You could hear the chatter stop and the footsteps slow. You sucked in your breath and folded in on yourself even more. You were already coming up with a cover for yourself. 
‘Oh, hey Brad. Yeah, I’m on the floor. Not avoiding you or anything, just….decided to see what the view of the stage would be like from here. Not good!’
It sucked and you really hoped you wouldn’t have to use it.
It seemed as though your luck for the day hadn’t expired because you heard them mumble amongst themselves and move on. After a few moments, You let out a sigh of relief and started crawling down towards the stage. You weren’t risking getting seen just yet.
You were starting to like Brad, you really were! But after recent events you had started to think the interest he’d taken in you wasn’t the same as the platonic one you’d taken in him. And you were bad at confrontation or being put on the spot. Obviously.
Plus you figured he’d want to talk about that weird moment with Peter in the hall the day before and you’d rather pretend that didn’t happen at all. Even you didn’t know what that was. 
Moving slowly, you kept your head down, trying to reach the stage so you could just bolt behind the curtains. Suddenly, a pair of pointed-toe black flats came into your view. You paused and slowly looked up. In front of you stood Ms. Lightbody. 
“Hi.” You said meekly. She looked down at you with a furrow in her brows, “Hello Miss Y/L/N. May I ask what you’re doing?”
You fumbled for a moment but finally found yourself. Clearing your throat, you stood up and dusted yourself off. “I dropped an earring.”
Way better than that other bullshit you were thinking of. 
She stared at both your ears, which adorned a pair of earrings you never took off. “Oh?”
“I’ve already put it back in,” you explained to her lamely. She gazed somewhere behind you and you followed her stare. Brad and his friend were still walking up and down the main row, lost in some conversation. You gulped, if she had seen you earlier, it would’ve been fairly obvious to her the real reason behind your little floor exploration. And that was just embarrassing. 
She hummed in response, “I see.” Her voice carried some tone of understanding and you felt yourself run hot with embarrassment under her gaze. 
“Did you need something, Miss?” You rushed out quickly, hoping to change the subject. 
“Yes,” she focused her gaze on you now, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say there was a sprinkle of amusement in her eyes. 
Ms. Lightbody was a newer addition to Midtown’s staff. She came in to replace the school’s previous drama teacher, and she also subbed at times. Most of the student body disliked her, thinking her short-tempered and strict but you knew that was far from the truth. It seemed this play helped you better understand your peers and superiors alike. She was an amazing teacher and, contrary to popular belief, she wasn’t an impatient maniac who didn’t have the skill set to teach. She was always willing to help someone who didn’t understand, but what she didn’t tolerate was purposeful incompetence.  
“Lexi is in one of the rooms backstage, I need you to go find her and tell her there’s one more scene we need to rehearse.” She paused and looked behind you again. “And I suggest you get to that soon because I think your friend, Mr. Davis, has spotted you.”
You blanched, unsure whether to dwell on the fact that she knew, or that Brad had spotted you. You turn slightly only to see Brad already looking towards you. 
You quickly snapped your head towards the lady in front of you again. “On it!” You told her, not waiting for a response before shooting up the stage and behind the curtain. 
You could’ve sworn you heard her laugh. 
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You were backstage looking for Lexi. It wasn’t like her to stay tucked away like this, since rehearsals had started she was always ready for anything, talking things over with the other cast members, ready for criticism but rarely needing it. There was probably no one on the cast who was as excited as her. 
“Lex, you here?” You whispered softly. Behind the stage was empty and dark. You walked around carefully, trying not to accidentally trip on anything of the string or left-out equipment. All of this was going to need to be changed before tomorrow evening. 
Suddenly, so quiet you could barely hear it, was a shuffling noise. You looked around for some switch, finding it on the wall to your left. You switched it on and the action earned you a hiss from someone a little further in the room. 
You turned quickly, finding Lexi sitting at one of the small makeup desks, hands coming up to cover her face as if she were some vampire. 
That worried you. 
You rushed to her, placing a soft hand on her shoulder. “Lex,” your tone was quiet so as not to disturb her anymore. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?”
She looked up at you, hair disheveled, face a little pale, and eyes tired. “No, no I’m fine.” She shook her head but you weren’t convinced. 
You moved to sit at the desk next to her. “Okay,” you said softly, “then why are you sitting back here?”
She sighed a little. “I’ve just had a small headache since lunch. But I’ll be okay really. 
Your frown only deepens. “Did you eat today? Drink water?”
She nodded then rubbed her temples a little, shutting her eyes as she did so. “It’s probably my fault, I didn’t sleep well last night and I’m just tired.”
Her eyes snapped open and she looked more alert now. She clasped her hands together and smiled at you. “So wake me up Y/N/N. Tell me something interesting.”
Skeptically, you eyed her up and down. “Are you sure that's all? Should I take you to see the nurse?”
She shook her head again, her hair flying around her face as she did so. “No. I’m actually feeling better already, talking to you. I think the smell of Noah’s Axe Body Spray was just really setting everything off.” She gestured her hands around herself. 
You laughed, glad to see her acting like herself again. “But seriously,” she said, putting a hand on your knee. “Talk to me, it’s waking me up. How was your day?”
You let out a breath and leaned back in the chair, looking up to the ceiling. “Brad asked me out.”
She gasped so loud, you started up in your seat. “Shut up. Shut up!”
Smiling, you shook your head. “Well not yet. But I know it’s coming, you know what I mean? He keeps trying to get me alone, and he gets really close and starts staring into my eyes and everything. But he keeps getting interrupted.”
She gasped again, softer this time, and held her hand to her chest. “Oh my god. That’s so cute! Are you gonna say yes?”
You stilled for a moment. Were you going to say yes? You’d figured out what was most likely coming your way, but you hadn’t really thought of how to handle it. You couldn’t crawl across floors to avoid him forever. That would make graduation very awkward. 
And at the same time, you didn’t want to reject him. Brad was sweet, maybe not the type of person you usually went for, but he had his own things. Maybe you needed something new, something different. 
But something in your gut was telling you maybe you shouldn’t go out with someone who made you panic-crawl on the floor just to avoid having a conversation with them. 
Not to mention, you just weren’t interested in him like that. At all.
Lexi was going on about something or other, seemingly fine at the moment. “I totally knew he was into you. I mean, that whole picking you up in the library thing?” She shook her head. “Not just a platonic thing.”
You laughed loudly and stood up. You held out a hand for her to take. “Come on Lex, everyone’s looking for their star.”
She took your hand and stood. “I bet they are, I’ll have to apologize for hogging you from them.”
You laughed again and started pushing her towards the front stage. “Oh! I almost forgot to tell you! We’re playing with glitter!”
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The rest of the day went by smoothly. You, Lexi, and Lacy applied the finishing touches to the backdrop. As Lacy had guessed, Lexi agreed with her. Lacy went on about all the qualities the perfect glitter should consist of; ‘catches the light, soft, and dustable.’
You were sure that last one wasn’t even a word but Noah gave in eventually and let the girls have their win. But that wasn’t enough for the three of you. Not wanting to put the glitter away just yet, you started sprinkling it on each other. 
Word spread across the auditorium like wildfire, and soon, a line started forming on the stage to get glitter sprinkled on you, boys and girls alike. Ms. Lightbody shut that down quick.
You stuck to avoiding Brad for the rest of the day. It wasn’t hard, you were both busy, him being one of the leads and you helping with a little bit of everything and making sure everyone stayed in order (with the exception of the glitter fiasco). 
At the end, Ms. Lightbody had gathered you all around to talk about how tomorrow was going to go. She went over the basics, what time the show was going to start, and what time you all had to be there. It was things you all already knew but it was good to go over. In the end, you thought she looked a little sad, and apparently, you weren’t the only one because someone else pointed it out. That made everyone jump and you all pulled her into a group hug. This little group had become like a crazy family and you were forever grateful you had a chance to be part of it. 
You left quickly after that, wanting to get out before Brad offered to walk you home or something. You said bye to your friends, taking extra time with Lexi. She had been more reserved after you two talked, not as tired as you’d found her backstage, but still not quite herself. You told her to get lots of sleep tonight. She was needed tomorrow
Now, you were sitting on the rooftop ledge, kicking your feet as Spider-Man sat next to you.
“Are you excited?” He asked. 
You nodded, smiling. “Very. We’ve all been working really hard for this. And you should see how great a job everyone has done. I can’t wait to see it all put together finally.”
“I’m sure you’ve done a great job,” he nods. “I really wish I could be there. You’re gonna need to take some videos for me. Show me afterward.”
You grinned wide. “Seriously? You’d wanna see?”
“Heck yea I wanna see,” he said, voice serious.
“Okay.” You nodded. “I’ll take plenty of videos, don’t worry.”
“Thank you.” He said, raising a hand a ruffling your hair. You laughed and slapped his hand away. He stared at you a little before asking, “What’s in your hair?
You grinned wide. “Glitter.”
He shook his head, laughing. “I don’t even wanna know.” You giggled beside him. 
 “Are your friends going to be there?” He asked.
“Um,” you say, still smiling. “Yeah, I think so. They said they will, and I think it’ll be fun.” MJ had told you she was definitely going to be there, she couldn’t wait to make fun of the kids in the play, she’d already bought her ticket. Ned said he wanted to see it as well, and Peter…well, after recent events you couldn’t think of any reason he’d be there. He probably wouldn’t be able to find the time in his busy schedule, even if you two were still together. So it was better like this. 
“What about your parents? Are they gonna try to make it?”
A beat passed before you replied. “No,” you shook your head. “I don’t think they’re gonna be there.”
He was quiet for a moment, not sure what to say. He almost regretted asking. 
“But it’s okay,” you said, your voice so soft, it took everything in him not to reach over and pull you into his arms. “I wasn’t expecting them to anyway. I have my friends, that’s enough.” You cleared your throat and wrapped your arms around yourself. 
He watched you for a bit and it hit him then, just how strong you were. How much you had on your plate at the moment. How little you let it show. 
Your parents were basically roommates to you, you barely saw them, they were just there. The play you were managing? While everyone else had one job, one task they needed to focus on and get done, you were involved in everything. He remembered you mentioned to him a few weeks ago something about your phone blowing up since planning started. He never thought much of it then. 
The more he thought about it, the more he realized you were always doing this. When it wasn’t the play it was something with your family, or tutoring other kids at school. And on top of all of that, you were always available for your friends whenever they needed you, and your grades never slipped. Your essays and tests were used by your teachers as examples. He always knew, but not really. It was painfully obvious right now. And it was even more obvious to him that he never helped. He should’ve helped make things easier for you, because he loves you, because he cares for you. But all he did was add to your plate. The thought made him feel sick. 
“I’m so sorry,” Even through his voice-changer you could hear the sincerity, the despair in his voice. Your brows furrowed. 
“You don’t need to apologize, it’s not that big of a deal. I swear,” you told him sincerely. 
He nodded but the movement almost looked forced. “How have you been?”
You paused. “Good,” you nodded, as if confirming your own statement. “Busy, but good.”
“Have you taken a moment to breathe recently? Just relax yourself for a few seconds?”
You were taken aback by his question. No one had ever asked you that. “I- I don’t think so,” you replied quietly. 
“Alright, that’s okay, we can do that together. Here,” he held out both his hands, palms up. “put your hands in mine.”
You followed his lead and placed your hands in his. The material of his suit felt smooth, but thicker than it looked, and you were surprised to see how well your hands fit together. 
“Close your eyes.” He said, and you saw the whites of his mask flicker shut. You followed his lead. 
“Great. Now big breath, through your mouth.” You sucked in a handful of air, the sound ringing out like a quick gasp. 
His hands gave yours a gentle squeeze. “No,” he said, voice soft. You felt your face heat up and you tried again, this time slowly letting the air enter and fill your lungs.
“Now out through the nose.”
You let the air leave you, not even realizing how tense you were until you felt yourself relax. Your eyes fluttered open and you found him already staring at you. His thumbs had started gently caressing your hands and you found you didn’t mind at all.
“A few more times.” He told you, and you nodded at him. You closed your eyes again and repeated your actions from before, more sure of yourself this time.
When you had finished, you opened your eyes again. His eyes were still open and you thought his mask shifted into something like a grin.
“Better?” He asked you, and you smiled, nodding your head. It was crazy to you to think about how over these past few days, that very mask had turned into a comforting sight for you. You really thought of New York’s Spider-Man as a friend. And you hoped he felt the same.
You nodded again, unable to take your eyes off of him. You weren’t even aware you were still holding hands until he removed his from yours. You almost protested, your hands suddenly feeling colder than they ever have. 
But then he brought his hands up to cup each side of your face. 
Oh. 
You were sure you were melting. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt like this, and you couldn’t even see his face! You wished he’d just rip it off, you wouldn’t care who was underneath. 
He brought his face closer and leaned his forehead against yours. Your eyes fluttered shut. You stayed that way for a minute, both of you just enjoying the moment before you decided to speak. 
“Take it off.” You whispered. 
“What?” He asked, his voice matching your volume. You had opened your eyes and you were looking at him now. You could clearly see the eyes of his mask were still closed and you fought off a smile. 
You brought up your hand to his face and traced his jawline. You could feel his jaw flex underneath your fingers and you could’ve sworn you heard him gulp. 
“Take it off.” You repeated, your thumbs now caressing his cheekbones. 
His eyes flew open and he leaned back. “No,” he shook his head, moving even further from where you two were seated next to each other. 
Your brows shot up at his sudden change of demeanor. You wished you hadn’t said anything. “Ok,” you said, voice quiet. “You don’t have to. I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I was just- ugh I’m so sorry.”
“No!” He repeated. “Don’t apologize I- you did nothing wrong.”
But the way he was acting was making you feel otherwise.
“I have to go. Good luck tomorrow.” He said, stood up, flung out his wrist, and started swinging through the buildings faster than you could blink. 
Fuck. 
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You were a wreck. 
Everyone was running all over the place, orders being shouted across the entire backstage. Some people seemed to have invited their friends to hang out backstage (which was not allowed). Every corner was packed. And you were in the middle of it all. 
“Y/N!” Ms. Lightbody called for you from across the swarm of bodies. You made your way through everyone, not stopping until you were standing in from of her. She placed a hand on your shoulder and steered you until you were both standing in a corner, as far away from the others as you could get. 
“Miss Walker isn’t here, and it’s starting to become a problem.” She told you, voice serious.
You blanched. “Lexi isn’t here yet?!”
She shushed you. “I don’t want to start a commotion. Things are barely going smoothly as is, and this will not make it better. Everyone will start worrying if they find out their lead hasn’t arrived, and we cannot have that.”
You nodded at her, mind racing. “What do we do?”
She sighed, “For now? Wait and hope for the best, there’s still a bit more time.”
You nodded again and she took a second to look around the room. “What is all this? Half these kids have no business here!” She turned towards you again. “I'm going to try to reach Miss Walker’s mother, deal with all these children Y/N, please. I want them gone by the time I get back.”
She turned to leave before she remembered something that had her turning right back, “You have Miss Walker’s contact information, correct?” You nodded at her again. “Great. Try to get ahold of her, will you? The sooner we figure this out the better.”
“Sure thing Ms. Lightbody.” You told her, waving her off, your voice sounding a hundred times more confident than you felt. 
You watched her walk out the back door to make her phone call, and you paused for a moment, unsure what to do first. You turned and pulled out your phone. Heading for the door Ms. Lightbody just walked out of, you pulled up your message thread with Lexi.
girl WRU !!!
you were needed like 30 mins ago !!!! 
get here-
You bumped into someone, your phone flying out of your hand before you could send that last one. You would’ve been sent flying backward if the person hadn’t gripped your waist tight to keep you steady.
“Woah, careful.”
You’d know that voice anywhere. Peter. 
“Parker,” you said, backing away quickly. “What are you doing here?” And you don’t mean for it to come out as harsh as it did but…there’s just a lot on your plate right now. 
And it seems he can tell. He bent over to grab your phone, placing it back in your hands. “The lady at the office saw me walking by and asked me to drop these off.” He waved a big bag you hadn’t noticed in his other hand. 
You reached for it, saying, “Oh my god, perfect.” At the same time, he asked, “Are you okay?”
You completely ignored him, taking the bag from his hands. Turning around, you caught Jack walking by at just the right moment. “Jack! Here,” you called him over, “Those supplies you guys were asking for.”
“Sweet, thanks Y/N/N!” He said, leaning in to give you a quick hug. You smile but then quickly shove him away, “Thank J, but you really need to go finish. Like, right now.”
He straightened his posture and saluted you. “Ma’am yes ma’am!” He said, then he turned to Peter, who had been watching the whole exchange, “Sup Parker.” He sent a little head nod towards him, as he started walking away. 
Peter returned it, brows slightly furrowed as he looked between the two of you, “Hey man.” 
You started walking around, trying to count up how many people there were who weren’t a part of the cast or crew. 
One, two, three-
You felt a hand placed on your shoulder and you turned quickly, only to see Peter still hasn’t left. 
You looked at him in disbelief. The nerve of this guy. There’s no way he seriously thinks you’re going to talk about the two of you right now, is there?
“How are you?” He asks again and you’ve never found someone dumber than you did right now. 
“Hello?! Things aren’t going too hot in case you can’t tell, and you aren’t exactly helping right now!”
He nodded, “Okay. What can I do to help?”
You scoffed. “I don’t know, leave. It’s so crowded in here and I have to get all these extra people out. Shit,” you smacked your forehead. “I forgot I have to find Lexi. Fuck! And I have to-.”
“Y/N!” Someone shouted your name for the umpteenth time that night. You turned and met Vanessa, one of the people in charge of makeup. 
“We’re out of setting powder.”
“What?!”
She winces. “I know, I’m so sorry. We thought we had enough but then some of the boys were playing and knocked over-,”
You waved her off, not wanting to hear the rest of it. “Okay, okay. Do none of the other girls have any extra? Is no one willing to lend you some?”
She shook her head. “No! I already asked. I don’t know what to do.”
“I’ll get you some.” Peter stepped in. “Just send me a picture of what it looks like and I’ll be back in ten minutes tops.”
Vanessa gasped, “Dude. You’re a lifesaver. Y/N,” she met your eyes, “your boyfriend is a lifesaver!”
“Oh he’s not-,” you started, but she was already walking away. You turned towards Peter, the disbelief on your face getting stronger every time you looked at him today. 
You started shaking your head, “What on earth are you doing Parker?”
“Helping you.” He said as if it were the easiest thing on earth. He wondered if you were making a conscious effort not to say his first name. 
Your head wouldn’t stop shaking left and right. “What? What do you- I don’t-,”
He cut you off, “And I’m gonna get rid of all the people who don’t belong here too.” He looked around the room before looking down at you. “You, just…take care of yourself Y/N. Don’t stress too much, it’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure you even have the time?”
Shit. 
His face fell and you immediately felt guilt seep into your bones. 
“Peter I’m so-,” 
He cut you off again, his voice quieter this time. “No, that was..that was fair. But I mean it.” He raised his voice, sounding more sure now. “I’m going to help you out.”
He stepped away from you suddenly, leaving you standing with your mouth agape. He walked to the end of the room, stopping right before the door. “Alright, everyone! Listen up,” He clapped his hands together, his voice booming around the room. Everyone quieted down to hear him.
“Unless you had some part in putting all this together, I’m going to need you to follow me out right now. Let everyone do their thing, we don’t need to bother them any more than we already have.”
Everyone was still for a second.
“And,” he continued, “Ms. Lightbody gave me permission to start handing out detentions.”
That got everyone moving. Your brows furrowed as a sea of students started moving through the room and out the door. Ms. Lightbody did no such thing. 
Peter stood to the side, holding the door open. It had come down to the last few people and Peter held back a boy. “You,” he told him, “I’m gonna need you to stay outside this door and make sure no one enters unless they’re part of the cast or crew. We can’t have that happening again.”
“Oh shit. Like a bouncer?” The kid asked eagerly.
Peter stared for a bit before he nodded. “Yeah man, exactly. And listen,” he pointed at you, “if you’re not sure, you ask her, alright?”
The boy turned towards you and you offered him a smile. “Damn! She’s smokin’!” He exclaimed. If you weren’t so busy, you might’ve blushed.
Peter narrowed his eyes, and it seemed like he was considering something before he quickly shook his head. He grabbed the boy by the shoulder and placed him on the outside of the door. 
“Vanessa!” He shouted. “Send me a picture of the powder, I’m going right now.”
“Already sent Pete, thanks!” She shouted back, giving him a thumbs up from where she was standing by the makeup chairs. 
Pete? Why would she call him Pete? She doesn’t know him like that. I used to call him Pete-
You stopped your train of thought. You could not afford to think like that right now.
“Perfect.” He said, he made to move away but his eyes met yours and he froze. “I’m gonna…” he trailed off, feet stuck to the ground as his thumb pointed to the door. 
“Of course,” you nodded quickly. “And Peter,” you stop him before he turns to go, “thank you. So much.” You hoped your voice carried the sincerity you felt.
He smiled at you softly, “Anything for you Y/N/N.”
This time, you did blush. You turned away before he could see you and placed a palm on your forehead. 
“Wow,” a voice said from beside you. Brad. “Didn’t know Parker had that in him.”
“Yeah,�� you whispered, “me either.”
“Hey, where’s Lexi?” Someone in the room asked. You felt your heart drop. Lexi. You’d completely forgotten about her after that whole thing with Peter. 
You had a show that needed to start in less than an hour and your star still hadn’t shown up. 
You pulled out your phone again, pulling up her contact. You were about to hit the ‘call’ button but right then, Ms. Lightbody walked in. 
She was holding her phone to her ear, and she was staring straight at you, her face full of dread.
“Lexi can’t make it. She’s got some type of flu, she can’t get out of bed. I am on the phone with her mother right now.”
Your jaw dropped. Chatter broke out everywhere. The kids were panicking, wondering what to do now, now that the lead of the whole show wasn’t going to be here.
Fuck. You should’ve known, yesterday when you saw her. But you were stupid enough to believe it was just lack of sleep. You should’ve figured it out faster so you could’ve planned something. Stupid, stupid, stupid-
“Miss Y/L/N.” You looked up when you heard your name. “She’s asking to speak to you.” Ms. Lightbody holds her phone out for you to take. 
Your eyes widen, “Me?”
She nodded, hand still outstretched toward you. You swallowed and walked your way toward her. You reached for the phone and held it to your ear. The chatter around the room stopped, everyone straining to hear what was going to happen next.
“Hello?”
“It wasn’t the Axe Body Spray.”
You barked out a laugh at the unexpected joke. “Lex! Be serious, what happened.”
“I got sick when I got home from rehearsal yesterday, I’ve been asleep since.” It was then that you heard how different her voice sounded. Nasally and broken, like she’d swallowed a lawn mower. 
“My mom’s only woken me up about twice to drink some medicine,” she continued, breaking into a fit of coughing at the end of her sentence. Yeah, maybe it was a good thing she didn’t come.
“Lex,” you repeated, sounding more desperate this time, “what’re we gonna do?”
“Wait,” someone in the room with you starts, “what about her understudy?”
“There is no understudy, dumbass!” Someone quipped right back. 
“You,” Lexi said. 
“Huh?” You replied. 
“You, Y/N.” She repeated. “You need to do it. You need to play Stephanie. No one else could do it. You know all the lines. You know the whole play.”
You paled. “Be so fucking for real with me right now Lexi Walker.”
“I am.” She said seriously. Or, as seriously as she could sound when she had to cough after every other word she spoke.
People were leaning in now, trying to hear what was going on between the two of you. You ignored them, “Lex, there’s no way. You know I can’t do that.”
“Oh my god!” Someone shouted. Lacy. “Y/N! Y/N can do it!”
You shook your head quickly. “No! I can’t!” You replied to her, the phone still pressed to your ear.
“You have to, Y/N, please, for me. You know how much this means to me. You’re the only person I trust,” Lexi begged
There are shouts from your cast-mates now, encouraging you to take the role when that was the last thing you wanted to do.
“Lex, babe,” you tried to reason, “I didn’t rehearse as much as you did! I don’t know it like you.”
“No,” she agreed, “you know it better. All that time you spent, going over every detail of the set, the costumes, the script. It was for this. Now please, you know you can do it.”
You paused. You didn’t want to, but it was really looking like you had no choice. You looked around at everyone in the room, they all worked so hard, hell, you worked so hard to make this happen. You weren’t gonna let it all be for nothing.
You rubbed your temple with one hand, the other holding the phone up to your ear. “Do you guys really think I can do it?” You looked around at everyone, hoping they’d answer honestly.
A chorus of agreement rang out from the group but Ms. Lightbody stepped in. “Miss Y/L/N,” she started, “I know none of this has been ideal. And I know we’re asking a lot. You didn’t come in today expecting to step onto that stage, but right now, that’s what we need. And I think we would all appreciate your help in these unexpected circumstances.”
You stared at her for a moment. You always wondered why she spoke so formally all the time, maybe one day you’ll ask her.
“Sure, I’m down.” You shrugged and everyone started cheering. 
“Oh good,” Lexi sighed, “cause I need to go throw up right now, so bye. Tell everyone to take lots of photos and videos for me please!”
You winced. “We will Lex, you just work on feeling better. Now go, I love you.”
“Love you too babe.” She replied before hanging up quickly. 
“Alright,” Ms. Lightbody started pushing you to the makeup chairs. “Have a seat Y/N. Girls,” she turned toward the makeup crew. “Get started on her, afterward, take her to hair and then, get her into her costume.”
They all chorused an agreement and started fussing over you. You were one of the last people to get ready, everyone one else having already had their turn. 
With so many people working on you, your makeup was done in no time. Soon, only Vanessa was left and she was powdering your face.
“Peter came back?” You asked her once you realized what she was holding in her hands. 
She nodded. “Yeah, a few minutes ago, but he didn’t come in, left the stuff with the dude outside the door who’s calling himself our ‘bouncer’.”
You nodded, “Oh okay.”
“You’ve got a great boyfriend Y/N, seriously. Not many guys I know would help out like that, no matter…”
You zoned out while she was doing the finishing touches on your face. Not many guys you know either, Peter included. Or at least, the Peter you’d come to find yourself in a relationship with. The old Peter, however, would’ve done anything for you, and you for him. You got a glimpse of him earlier tonight and you wondered what it was that triggered that. 
The few moments of silence gave you time to go over everything that's been happening recently in your head. You’ve had a hectic past few weeks, but especially this last week. With the last few rehearsals, everything with Peter, everything with Spider-Man. Oh…
And then there was him…
There was a moment yesterday. You tried to gaslight yourself into thinking you imagined it but you didn’t. It was real. Until you ruined it.
You’d gone to bed late last night, staying on the roof even after he’d left in case he decided to come back so you could apologize again. You’d felt downright terrible all night. And this morning. 
It was none of your business to ask him to take off his mask. Who the hell did you think you were? There might’ve been something before but there was no way…not after the way he reacted last night. You’d pissed him off. And now you’d lost another friend.
“There you go!” Vanessa said, pulling back from your face and grinning. She held up a mirror for you to take a look. “What do you think? I think it matches Stephanie’s description pretty well, no?”
You gasped, “Oh my god Vanessa, this is exactly how I pictured her! When all this is over you have to teach me how to do my eyeliner like this.”
“Deal.” She grinned.
Suddenly, Ms. Lightbody walked by. “Who is that child standing outside the door?” She asked. Vanessa shot you a look and you subtly shook your head at her, and at anyone who turned towards you. 
No one answered her. “He asked me for my ID?!” You choked back a laugh. “He doesn’t even go here!” She continued. Everyone successfully avoided her, playing busy with whatever task they had in front of them. Vanessa kept brushing over your face with a clean brush while you both fought back smiles.
“Y/N!” Ms. Lightbody called. You shot out of your chair and approached her. “Yes ma’am?”
“Is your makeup all done?” You nodded while she examined your face. “Very well, head over to hair, we need everyone ready soon! Curtain opens in 15!”
That last one was directed at everybody and you could feel the shift in the atmosphere. If everyone wasn’t working before, they were now. 
You headed over to hair and let one of the people there pin it up for you. After that, you were held into your costume, your friends pulling on layer after layer before finally, you were completely ready. 
You looked in the mirror. “I look I came out a Jane Austen novel,” you murmured. 
Lacy, who stood beside you, laughed. “And it suits you! You look beautiful Y/N, stunningly classic. Very vintage.” She nodded in approval. 
You turned towards her and smiled, “Thank you, Lace.” You sucked in a breath and ran your hand down the hem of your costume. “I’m nervous,” you admitted shyly. 
“Don’t be,” she replied, voice soft. “Hey, if you could pull off that scavenger hunt, this should be a piece of cake.” She smirked wickedly at you. 
You laughed, “Actually, you’re right.”
“I always am.” she shrugged
“SHOWTIME EVERYONE, GET IN YOUR PLACES!” Ms. Lightbody’s voice boomed across the whole backstage. 
You both looked at each other. “Break a leg.” She grinned at you. 
You grinned right back. You could handle this. 
The anxiety from before had mostly worn off. Now, all you felt were nervous jitters and even a little excitement. Everyone was right, you knew everything about this play like the back of your hand, and you were looking forward to being out there with people you’d come to think of as friends. 
You got into place, standing beside Brad and some of your other cast-mates who were going to be in this first scene with you.
“Hey,” he said, voice low and he looked down at you with a large smile on his face. 
“Hi,” you replied, smiling right back. 
“Don’t think I got the chance to tell you, but I’m really happy you’re doing this.”
“Yeah, I think I am too.”
“Curtain warmers on?” Ms. Lightbody spoke into a little headset. “Perfect. And…action!”
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The lights blinded you for a second, once the curtain opened, and you had to stop yourself from turning your face away. In the beat you had before the scene came to life, you chanced a glance at the crowd. You really wished you hadn’t. 
Peter Parker was sitting front row. 
As quickly as you looked, you averted your gaze, but not before you noticed a few things. Beside him sat Ned, and in the row behind them, right behind Ned’s chair, sat MJ. And all three of them had their mouths hanging open. You had to fight down the heat threatening to rise to your face. 
You never told them, hell, you didn’t even know. What were they gonna think? There was no way you could pull this off, you were all fooling yourselves, everyone was wrong and-
The first line was delivered, and it all came to life. 
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You were panting, running backstage. There was a small intermission at the moment, and you had just changed your outfit, from the simple gown you were adorning, to a bigger one. This one was more detailed and more eye-catching. It was supposed to be special because it was meant for the last scene of the whole play. The confession. Your kiss with Brad.
In the heat of the moment, you’d forgotten that specific detail. And as you sat down in the makeup chair again and one of the girls reapplied your lipstick, it was all you could think about. 
You had to kiss Brad. And Peter would be sitting front row watching the whole thing. 
That shouldn’t matter. First of all, it was all part of an act. Even if you were still with Peter, (which you weren’t. You had to keep reminding yourself of that little detail) it wouldn’t have mattered because you were doing it for the play. A play you weren’t even planning on being a part of, acting-wise, of course. 
And then there was Spider-Man. If there was anyone you had to be kissing right now, you wished it was him. But there was no chance of that happening after last night. You wondered how he was feeling right now. He’d probably tell you to relax and stop stressing yourself out. 
The thought made you take in a breath through your mouth, and slowly exhale from your nose. Just like he’d taught you. You felt yourself relax and, not for the first time that night, you decided that you needed to just get through tonight. And then you could worry about everything else. 
The girl helping you with your makeup (you didn’t recognize her, but appreciated the help nonetheless) pulled away and smiled. “Alright, I think you’re good to go.” 
“Thank you.” You smiled back and stood from your chair.
Ms. Lightbody approached you, placing a hand on your shoulder, “Come on, Miss Y/L/N. We need to get you in place.”
You nodded as she led you to the wing on the side of the stage, the curtains were still down, and by the time they opened again, you would be standing on the makeshift balcony (built by the props team), soon to be joined by Brad. 
You went to approach the steps of the balcony when you felt her hold you back.
“I wanted to thank you again Y/N. I know we were all planning on Miss Walker doing all this but honestly…I couldn’t be prouder.”
Your heart warmed at her confession. You were upset you didn’t get to see Lexi shine like you’d been planning but you hoped you’d do her proud. You were glad to know you did Ms. Lightbody proud. 
Without saying a word, you throw your arms around her in a warm embrace. She quickly reciprocated. 
“I know we’ve all given you a hard time these past few weeks, and we don’t say it enough but we appreciate you. All of us.”
You both pulled back and her eyes were full of emotion. “Thank you Y/N, truly. Now go, I’ll get Mr. Davis ready.”
You nodded and stepped onto the set, positioning yourself at the end of the balcony. The balcony protruded from the side of the stage and covered a quarter of it. The backdrop you’d been appreciating just yesterday now stood to your side. You saw parts of it glitter from the light leaking in from backstage and you stifled a laugh.
Soon, the curtain opened. You’d grown used to the lights by now, welcoming their glow over your face. You gripped the railing and played broken-hearted, right now, Stephanie and Gabriel had just had a falling out during a ball and you had run out onto the balcony to get some air. 
“Stephanie.” Brad approached behind you, and you turned around in fake shock.
The hardest part about acting, you’d come to find, was keeping a serious face and not laughing at yourself or your partner.
“Leave me be, Gabriel.” You waved a hand at him, turning away. 
He caught your arm and held it gently between the two of you, standing so close, you were trapped between the railing and him.
“I can’t,” he said, his voice strangled. He looked down at you, face so pained, you almost believed him. 
And so it began, the two of you going back and forth, delivering your lines, monologues about your feelings for each other, and how nothing in the world mattered except holding the other person, even for a moment. 
Brad was finishing up, he was pacing back and forth in front of you while you listened intently.
“…And all this, because I love you.” He stopped in front of you now, hands coming up to cup your face. You did your best to get your expression to convey the love you (or Stephanie) were supposed to be feeling and then it happened. 
Brad leaned, crashing his lips onto yours. You throw your arms around him, meeting him just as eagerly, and tried your best not to think about all the people currently watching suck each other’s faces off. One of his hands traveled down to your waist while the other moved from your cheek to hold the back of your head as he dipped you. Cheers broke out across the crowd. 
You two stayed locked together like that for a few moments as the curtains closed, and then you broke apart. You were both panting, faces flushed, but you didn’t have time to think about what just happened. You and Brad had started moving off the balcony and onto the actual stage itself, the other members of the cast and crew joining you to take the final bow. 
You all lined up across the stage, hands interlocked. With you and Brad in the middle, the curtains opened. You could still hear the applause before, but now, it got even louder and you couldn’t help the big smile that overtook your face. People were whistling, and clapping, someone was even throwing roses. You all took a bow together, and rose together, throwing your interlocked hands in the air. 
Your body was buzzing with adrenaline. It was over, you’d actually done it. You could see Ms. Lightbody standing to the side, gleaming with pride at you all. 
Soon, you all let go of each other and started embracing and exchanging congratulations. Brad turned toward you and pulled you into a tight hug, lifting you up a little. You laughed, holding onto him just as tight. The applause seemed never-ending, even as you all started walking off stage. 
Now backstage, there was a buzz in the air. Not the same as a couple hours ago, which had been anxiety and nerves. This was triumph, pride, and adrenaline. 
“Alright everyone,” Ms. Lightbody approached the center of the room once everyone had reconvened. “We’ve finally finished. And it was a hit.”
That caused everyone to start whooping and shouting. She rolled her eyes but even she couldn’t hide the smile creeping onto her face. 
She held up a hand, “Okay. I just wanted to let you all know, how proud I am of each and every single one of you. You all worked so hard to make this happen and you worked through every problem that came your way.” She gave you a pointed look and the cheers started up again. 
You hid your face in your hands as your friends pulled you into side hugs. “And I just wanted to say,” she continued. “We’ve all had a long night. Leave the cleaning for another day, everyone, go celebrate!”
She waved her hands and everyone started cheering again, moving as one to the back door to meet up with their friends and family. 
As soon as you entered the hall you were bombarded by thanks and praises from your friends. You thanked them and threw their compliments right back at them, saying that this whole thing was a group effort. 
You were flying from one group to another, everyone shouting your name. You were currently with Noah, Jack, and Lacy, telling them how good a job they did on the sets when you heard your name being shouted out again.
You turned around and saw MJ. Grinning, you excused yourself from the group and charged at her, pulling her into a hug without giving her any time to protest. To your surprise, she pulled you in just as tight. 
“Why didn’t you tell me?” She mumbled into your hair. 
“Oh my god,” you started, “MJ it was insane. It all happened so fast, that Lexi got sick, so she didn’t show up! And I knew all the lines and stuff so I had to step in cause no one thought of casting an understudy and-,”
You pulled back from the hug but kept your hands on her shoulders. “Oh my god, what did you think? Was it bad? You can tell me -,”
“No! No way, holy shit Y/N, it was so good!” 
“Seriously?” you smiled at her. “What happened to the whole ‘school productions are so cringe’ mindset?”
“That was before her best friend was starring in one,” said Ned. You hadn’t realized he was standing beside you two, with Peter beside him.
“Don’t worry, Y/N,” He continued. “The show was amazing. And you popping up on stage was a fun surprise.”
You grinned at him. “Thank you, Ned! I’m so happy you all made it.” You looked at Peter and offered him a small smile. He’d really helped you out today, and the fact that he’d made it to the actual show, and stuck it out till the end, meant a lot as well. 
“Oh of course we made it!” Ned cut it, putting your attention back on him. “Petey here wouldn’t shut up about it. Went out and bought you flowers and everything.”
Your mouth fell open at his words, and for the first time, you noticed the large bouquet in Peter’s arms. You saw Peter nudge his friend hard and Ned winced before his face lit up in understanding. He grabbed MJ by the hand (which she quickly yanked back from him) and said, “Ok, well we’re gonna go talk to someone else. Congrats Y/N!” But you didn’t have a chance to reply before he was scurrying off, MJ with him. 
You stared at them for a bit before turning all your attention to Peter. He cleared his throat before saying, “Hey.”
“Hi.”
“These are for you,” he said, holding out the bouquet of fresh flowers. You accepted them from him and brought them up to your nose, taking in a whiff of the sweet scent. 
“My favorite.” You whispered, fingers lightly tracing the petals. 
He nodded. “Yeah, um, I saw them and I thought you might like them. Especially with everything, you know,” he gestured vaguely, “thought you’d like some flowers.”
Your heart warmed at the thought that he saw your favorite flowers while he was out and thought of you. “Thank you, really. But you didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to.” He admitted. 
You looked around, unable to meet his eyes. You focused on the floor, “Well thanks Parker, that was really sweet of you.”
He sighed, “Y/N please, I don’t want to-,”
But he got cut off by someone shouting your name. “Y/N!” Brad approaches you two. He looked Peter up and down before turning to you, “Hey, so the whole cast and stuff is going out for ice cream in our costumes, thought it’d be fun. Wanna join?”
Your face lit up, “Of course!” 
He grinned right back at you. “Great. Come on, they’re leaving now.
You turned towards Peter, whose expression looked harder than before. “Listen, thank you so much for your help today, it means a lot. And thank you for the flowers.”
He nodded but his attention was on Brad. He finally turned toward you, his expression notably softening, “Like I said before, anything for you Y/N/N.”
You stayed there for a bit, caught in his eyes, unable to look away. It isn’t until Brad places a hand on your shoulder that you realize you’ve been staring.
“Ready to go?” He asked. You nodded and turned to leave. As you were walking out the door, you turned to look over your shoulder. You weren’t even sure why, but as you did, you caught Peter already staring. You sent him a little wave and he returned it before turning and walking away himself, shoving his hands in his pockets. 
You walked to the ice cream shop with the others, still holding your flowers. And after everything that happened today, all you could think about was Peter. 
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You had a blast. The ice cream shop was packed with a bunch of high school kids in old-timesy clothing, laughing and joking with each other. 
Brad had paid for your ice cream, despite your multiple refusals, claiming that they all owed you for stepping in and saving their asses.
“Consider it a thank you for that great kiss earlier.” He winked before walking off. 
That had gotten you to shut up. 
You all sat at tables surrounding each other, even pushing some together. You ate your ice cream in peace, joining the conversation every now and then to make a joke. 
Someone had gotten Lexi on the phone and you all said hello. She congratulated you and you thanked her, letting her know you thought it should’ve been her on that stage instead. She made some joke about ‘if you wanted the whole front row to be covered in vomit, then I totally should’ve been there, you’re right.’ And you all laughed.  
You had noticed Jack and Lacy moved to their own spot across the store. They were laughing together with Jack’s arm around her cocooning them from the world. It seemed they had finally gotten together and you couldn’t be more happy for them.
For some reason, the only thing on your mind was Spider-Man. It was silly but all you could think about was finding a way to make things right with him. It sucked that you had no way to reach him, but you’d decided to wait on the roof tonight, hoping he’d see you while swinging and stop by. Even if he left right after you apologized, you wouldn’t mind. You just wanted to see him. 
You realized how late it was getting, and that it was usually now when you met up with him. So you'd asked Martha, (her mom helped with costumes, but she worked on the props) for a ride back since she had a car and lived in an apartment building near yours. 
She quickly agreed, claiming she was ready to go too, but she had to walk back to the school to grab her car. 
So you’d waited, but you couldn’t fight off your anxiety. Your leg kept bouncing up and down. You stayed like that for a while before Brad put a hand on your knee, stopping the action.
“You alright,” he asked, some sort of half-smile on his face. You looked at him then and thought, I can see why people like you Brad. He was kind, he was funny, he was fairly handsome, pretty popular too. And yet all you could think about was heading back home and waiting for someone you didn’t even really know. 
You nodded, “Yeah, I’m just waiting for Martha to pull up.”
“I could walk you home if you wanted.” He offered. 
You smiled but shook your head, “No, but thank you, I’m kind of in a rush.”
“Everything alright?”
“Everything’s fine.” You assured him. “Just…tired.”
“Yeah,” he nodded at you. “I get that. But hey.”
You looked up at him expectantly. 
“Before you go there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
Your eyes shot open. “Oh?” You said, and it felt oddly reminiscent of that moment the two of you shared in the hall. 
“Yeah. Would you wanna go out with me sometime?”
“Like a date?” You blurted out. Like an idiot, you thought. You knew it was coming and yet you’re acting like he just told you he was Taylor Swift. 
He smiled at you and nodded, “Yeah, like a date.”
Oh Martha, where are you?
You were silent for a few seconds before you cleared your throat. There was no crawling away this time, no Peter running to interrupt. You had to face this. 
“I really like you Brad but…I can’t out with you.”
His expression fell a little, but he didn’t look surprised. “It’s Parker, isn’t it?”
You were taken aback. “Huh?”
He nodded his head towards and flowers lying in your lap, “Parker. I saw you two today. When he was helping before the show, that was all for you. He sat front row before he even knew you were going to be on that stage.”
You blew out a breath and ran a hand through your hair, which you’d taken out of its updo. “I don’t know.” You told him honestly. “I don’t know and that’s the problem. Things are still really weird between me and him, and going out with you? That wouldn’t be fair to me or you.” And the other person you couldn’t wait to see.
He nodded again, understanding coating his features. “I get that, but hey,” he smiled at you, “we’re still friends right?”
You grinned wide, relief flowing through you. The last thing you’d wanted to do was hurt his feelings and you were so glad he was taking this so well. 
“Of course we are,” you replied honestly. Right then, your phone started ringing and you stood up to answer. Martha was outside waiting for you.
You walked back to your table, saying your goodbyes to everyone. You were pulled into hugs and thanked a few more times. You really wanted to take your time but you couldn’t stop the part of you that wanted to rush home and sprint onto the rooftop. 
As soon as you were out the door you were sprinting to the car. You spent the whole ride anxiously fiddling with the bouquet of flowers from Peter. 
You barely thanked her as you stepped out the door, closing it and waving goodbye as she pulled away. 
You rushed straight up the stairs, wasting no minute. You felt hopeful, for the first time in a long time. You were going to make sure he knew you were sorry, make sure the two of you remained friends. 
You stepped onto the roof, the wind blowing around you. Only then did you realize you were still in your costume. That didn’t matter though, you didn’t want to risk going down to change. And you were sure that if he did stop by tonight, he would love to hear about the crazy day you had. 
You stepped close to the ledge, setting the bouquet down by your feet and you leaned over slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of the hero you’d come to think of as a friend. 
A weird sense of familiarity washed over you, and you realized, this was exactly what you’d been doing a few hours ago. Standing on that makeshift balcony, waiting for your lover to come so you could make amends. Except, this wasn’t a fake balcony, and there was no way you and Spider-Man were lovers, barely friends at best. But still, there was something familiar there.
You waited. And waited. Just when you were starting to give up hope, you heard the small thwip you’d come to realize signaled his arrival. Soon after, you heard a pair of feet land in the middle of your rooftop. 
You turned toward him, heart racing. For a moment neither of you said anything, just stared at each other, but you quickly decided you needed to get your words out before he left again like last night.
“I am so sorry. I’ve been so worried since last night that I upset you and I can't stand it, please would you-,”
Oh….oh.
Before you could even inhale to get your next word out, he was walking towards you, ripping his mask off, gripping your face, and pulling you into a deep kiss.
You didn’t even get to see him but that was the last thought on your mind. He was kissing you. And it was perfect. Your hands flew up to his hair, and you tugged slightly, making him kiss you even harder.
His mouth moved against yours like he’d been waiting his whole life to do this, and couldn’t believe he finally got the chance. You met him just as eagerly, for each kiss, trying to memorize the feeling of his lips on yours.
Something about this, all of it, felt so, so familiar. But every time you made to pull away, his lips chased yours and you couldn’t help but give in. 
Soon enough you both pulled away to catch your breaths, eyes still shut as you leaned into each other, foreheads touching. You enjoyed the moment for a bit, and then you opened your eyes, about to make a joke about how that was an interesting way to accept an apology.
You gasped out loud, hands flying up to cover your mouth as you stumbled backward. 
“Oh my god,” you whispered. “Oh my god.”
“Y/N/N, I’m so sorry,” he says. Peter says. Because it’s Peter standing in front of you right now and he didn’t seem to be the least bit taken aback by your reaction.
You’re unsure what to say to him, your head is reeling and you can't breathe. 
“Oh my god,” you repeated, your voice barely a breath. 
“Y/N, please, please let me explain.” He stepped toward you and reached out a hand. 
You shook your head so quick, that you thought you might give yourself whiplash. “No. This,” you pointed at him, “is so sick, Peter.” Your voice broke at the end and you tried to fight back the tears that were already burning in your eyes. 
His eyes widened. “Y/N I promise you, it’s not what you think-,”
“What do you think I think Peter?” You asked him, voice full of exasperation. “Because I think, you lied to me. I think, you played me for a fool. I think, you’re sick and twisted for sitting here with me every night and playing friends with me. Asking me about my day, pretending to care. Fuck, asking me about my ex. Continuously,
“I think,” you continued, tears flowing freely now, voice shaky and weak, but still conveying your anger. “I think you got me to trust you, again. Just so you could stomp all over every bit of me, again!”
“It’s not like that Y/N, it was never like that. Please, believe me, sweetheart. Please don’t cry.” He begged, looking like it was taking every muscle in his body to hold himself back from pulling you in again. 
“Why should I believe you?” You snapped at him. It was hard for him to believe that, just a minute ago, he was holding you again. Kissing you like nothing else in the world mattered. He’d give anything to have that back.
“Because every moment we had out here was real! Every concern, every question. I was never playing pretend, I just, ugh!” He groaned out loud, dropping his head in his hands, and tugging his hair tightly before looking up at you again. “I fucked up Y/N,” his voice is watery, and because you can’t undo the time you spent together, as Peter and as Spider-Man, you can’t help the strong impulses you feel to hold him tight. But you stand your ground and wait for him to continue.
“First when I didn’t tell you about this,” he said gesturing towards his suit. “Which has its own reasons. And then again, when I bailed on you all those times, which was because of this. And again when I let you walk away from me that night at school. I should’ve fought for you, I should’ve shown up more, I should’ve shown up every time and never given you any reason to not trust me,
“But I didn’t. And you called things off… And at that moment, all I could think was you, walking down the streets of New York, crying, and distracted.” He shuddered and your heart fell. You’d never thought of it like that. “You don’t know the things I’ve seen,” he said, looking up at you, eyes red and face flushed. 
“So I thought I’d just walk you home, make sure you got there safely, and then I’d start staying away. But it was you,” his voice broke. “And you were so upset and all I could think was that it’s my fault and I hated myself. So when you invited me to hang out on the roof with you, I thought I’d show up, try to cheer you up a little,
“And you made me tea, that night,” he laughed softly. “I don’t think you even realized, but you made it the way I always drink my tea. My favorite.” Your mouth fell open a little when you realized you had, in fact, made his favorite tea that night. He’d told you during a late-night conversation before you two had started dating, and ever since, it was the only tea you drank. 
“So I had to stay,” he continued. “And then we started talking, and you were joking, and telling me things I had no idea about. And I never wanted to leave,” he admitted softly. 
“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked him, pointing at his mask on the floor, voice raspy from the tears still clogged in your throat. “When we were still together? I’ll bet that's why you were always bailing, isn’t it?”
He looked down and nodded. “It is. Or was. I wanted to,” he looked up at you suddenly, his face so sincere, that you could feel the desperation in his next words. “God Y/N, you have no idea how many times I almost did. But I stopped myself every time because the risks of you knowing were too high.”
“Risks?” You asked confused.
He nodded, “I’ve met a lot of people. Bad people. And if the one catches wind of this, of you? If someone ever tried something, I’d never forgive myself.” He looked away shaking his head.
“So no one knows?”
He shook his head again. “Only Ned and May.”
“Ned knows?” You knew they were best friends, but really?
“It's not like that, no.” He waved his hand. “He found out by accident. He was waiting in my room one day, and I crawled in through the window ‘cause I didn’t see him.”
You huff out a breath from your nose. That was so Peter. You’d bet money that May found out in some similar situation.
“Wait,” you started, “if we went through all of that, and you still didn’t tell me, why tell me now?”
“Because I can’t stand to be away from you any longer.” His voice sounded broken, like he’d been dying to get that off his chest.
He stepped closer again, and you didn’t push him away this time, much to his surprise. He doesn’t stop until he’s standing right in front of you.
“I’ll protect you from anything or anyone that may come your way. I’d do anything for you sweetheart,” he repeated his words from earlier and you felt something grow in your chest. One of his hands came up to cup your cheek, the other, moving to your waist. Your hands rose up to lay on his chest. 
“God, you have no idea how much it was killing me to sit beside you all those nights and not be able to touch you.” He whispered, staring straight into your eyes. 
You met his gaze. You believed him, every word. You’d known Peter for years, you knew when he was lying to you, which was part of why you broke up with him. You knew he was lying to you, or holding something back from you, you just didn’t know what. But you still had a few more questions. 
“Last night. Why did you run off? Why didn’t you just tell me then?”
“Because I was a coward,” he admitted, expression sad. “I was enjoying it all too much, I wasn’t ready to ruin it yet. I still couldn’t believe I found a way to still talk to you, and you were asking to see me,” he blew out a breath.
Yeah, obviously that didn’t initially start well. 
You nodded. “And when you kept asking me about you. About my ex and how I felt about him, why?” That part still had you confused
He looked up, closing his eyes, “I won’t lie to you sweetheart, that was just me being a dumbass. That was complete selfishness and…,”
He trailed off. “And what?” You questioned him. There was some unspoken thing you two were doing right now, that you could ask anything, and he’d answered honestly. It was the least he could do. 
“And jealously,” he finished quietly, looking down at the ground.
“Jealousy?” You repeated, still confused. “But who would you be jealous of…oh.”
And it was then that you realized how you’d talked about Brad to Spider-Man (before you knew who he was of course), and how, right after, when he’d asked about Peter, you’d said something about just trying to forget the whole thing. You had to hold back a laugh when you remembered all that. Poor guy must’ve been going insane. 
He nodded. “You kept talking about that Brad guy and talking about trying to get over me. And I hated that you seemed to be getting over me so quick. Like I said, completely selfish. I'm sorry.”
“No,” you shook your head, “that makes sense actually. But seriously Peter..” You trailed off, shaking your head again.
Worry crept onto his features, “I know I messed up Y/N/N, big time, but I’m willing to do anything-,”
“You really thought I was into Brad?” You asked, wrinkling your nose up at him. 
He let out a breath of relief, before laughing a little. God, he was so happy you were joking with him. 
He leaned down and pressed his forehead against yours, “I’m sorry sweetheart.”
“You’re forgiven,” you told him, the sincerity in your tone impossible to miss, and he knew you were talking about more than the crazy jealousy. 
He looked down into your eyes, his gaze so intense you almost went to look away. “I’m the luckiest man alive,” he whispered, his voice so low, you wondered if he even meant to say it out loud.
His eyes flickered down to your lips, and you took that as your cue. You leaned in, closing the gap between you. He kissed you back instantly. It was softer than the one earlier, but way more meaningful. Every press of his lips on yours felt like repairing something. Mending whatever it was that had broken between the two of you.
You pulled away first because you knew he wouldn’t, but he didn’t let you get far. He started planting kisses all over your face.
"Have I told you," Kiss. "How beautiful," Kiss. "I think you look tonight? And every night."
You laughed, face heating up at his compliments. "Thank you, Petey."
"I love it when you call me that." He said, grinning like a lovesick idiot. He leaned in and kissed your cheek one more time before he pulled away again. 
"I didn't like it." He said, a frown on his face.
"Didn't like what babe?" You asked, tilting your head up at him while your fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck.
He let out a sigh, "The breakup. Being broken up. Not talking to you, as me, I mean. Not as Spider-Man. And I sure as hell didn't like seeing some other guy make out with my girl in front of everyone."
You laughed and you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach when he called you his girl. "Well don't worry," you told him, moving your hands to cup his face. "We're not doing that again, not if we can help it."
You leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the lips, before pulling away, which made him whine. 
 He moved his hands to your shoulder as he buried his face in your neck, breathing in your scent. 
“You drive me crazy, sweetheart.” He said, voice muffled by your skin. 
You giggled, “You drive me crazier, Peter Parker.”
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‘crazier’ taglist: @coralineyouareinterribledanger @666yourmomdotcom
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coffeeshopguest · 20 hours
Note
ahh! thank you so much for writing my gangbang fantasy, absolutely amazing!
i really love sambastian x reader, so it was amazing.
another suggestion is free use farmer x sebastian (or any of the bachelors tbh they’re all hotties) where they are tied up for a whole day and gets overstimulated from being toyed with alllll day
-🐇
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ofc! glad you enjoyed, this one was so fun to write! i chose sebastian bc he's my favorite & the one i saw doing this the most. enjoy!
Tied and Used
Word Count: 1826 Pairing: Sebastian x F!Reader Warnings: 18+, smut, bondage, fingering, unprotected sex, swearing, vaginal sex, choking, praise kink, plugging, toy usage, free use, similar themes
Sebastian mentioned the idea over breakfast one day, he'd sipped his coffee nervously and tapped on the table as you chewed your food. To the point where you had to ask what was wrong. You knew Sebastian was kinky. You'd had that talk several times over before you were married. If you weren't into it you wouldn't have agreed to be with him which he seemed to forget often - usually not mentioning his own fantasies or interests in turn of just doing vanilla stuff in bed with you. You didn't mind either way but it was tiring seeing him suppress his own interests out of guilt (or maybe just plain old shame and fear). 
Upon being asked what was wrong, Sebastian devolved into a mess of blushing and awkwardness. "I wanted...to try something new?" his tone went high pitched, he tapped on the table again, a nervous fidget of his. "It's...a bit far from what I usually ask and I'd..." he sighed, shaking his head. "You know what just forget it-"
"But-?"
"No, no, I don't - it would only really work in winter anyway," he dismissed, waving his hand as he stood up and grabbed his coffee. "I shouldn't have said anything." 
You immediately stood too, gently gripping one of his wrists. "Why would it only work in winter?" 
Sebastian flushed nervously, shaking his head. "It's uhm, sort of an all day thing," he whispered. 
"All day?"
Sebastian hesitated, nodding ever so slightly. "I was thinking...like...rope...and..." he hesitated, trailing off and letting silence occupy the space as he thought of how to put it. "You...tied down all day? Just letting me fuck you, mess with you whenever I want?" 
Your heart dropped to your stomach, but not necessarily in a bad way. In the way it does on the drop of a rollercoaster. The exciting kind. "Well...winter is coming up...we could-" 
"No! No, I don't wanna...make you uncomfortable."
"It's fine! I want to try it," Sebastian's eyes widened a little and he nodded. A slight look of eagerness overtook his face but he quickly suppressed it.
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He started simple, the rope tying your wrists up to the headboard, legs tied apart to keep them spread. He examined his work, waited for a moment, then asked "Is that comfortable?" 
"It's rope."
"Will it be fine for the whole day?" he answered, voice laced with concern. He quickly went to check how tight the knots were, ensuring he could undo them in a moments notice if you gave him the word. "I can take it off-"
You quickly shook your head, "no, no, they're fine," you assured. "Don't undo them," you added. Sebastian smiled, dipping down to kiss your lips softly. When he pulled back, his eyes trailed down your body. His eyes flickered with the same eagerness you'd seen upon your agreement months ago. "Do I get a safe word?" you teased, his eyes softened and he nodded.
"Of course you get a safe word, what do you take me for?" he kissed your forehead, you noticed him holding back on anything to sexual yet. "You remember we've used them before, right? You remember how to use them, lovely?"
You smirked, nodding, "The concept is fairly simple, love," he quirked an eyebrow at you.
"You're being a bit of a brat," he noted, a hand slid up your body, reaching your throat, "Quite bold of you considering you're tied up," he added softly. You liked this version of him, the nervous Sebastian was cute - the Sebastian who was nervous to take things too far, to seem weird. The Sebastian who wanted you safe and comfortable and who fumbled to even use the word bondage. But this version of Sebastian was different, like a switch in his brain flipped he would switch to an assertive and dominant person - confident. Kinky. "Do you want to choose your safe word, then?"
Nodding pathetically, you felt yourself already getting wet. "Y-yeah..."
His grip was light, not even choking you, just gently holding your throat. "If you can't speak or tap me, I want you to blink at me to tell me you need a break, okay? Two taps if you can, or rapid blinks, can you do that?" you nodded, "Good girl, safe word?" 
With an already shut off brain, you could barely come up with a word to give him. Finally, you managed to settle on a basic easy one, "Mango." 
He nodded, "Mango," he repeated, assuring you he heard it. He gently kissed your forehead again, "mind staying here alone?" he added. "If you need me, you can call, I'll never go far." 
"How often?" 
"Between sessions, I'll get you some snacks and water between too, clean you up a little, but I want you to stay tied down...that's part of the fantasy for me..." he explained. "Would that be alright?" 
You nodded, and he smiled, already enjoying this. "Good girl," he whispered. Gently, his hand tightened around your throat, cutting off your oxygen for just a moment. You let out a soft groan, and he smiled as he watched your reaction. His other hand slowly moved, cupping your breast. His thumb rolling over your nipple, trying to earn more of a reaction from you. And he got exactly that, a loud noise came out of you. Almost like a whine. 
He leaned back, moved his hand down your body and traced for your thighs. He reached up, gently rubbing against your pussy. Your head tilted back, hitting the pillow. "Fuck-" you murmured out. Sebastian smirked, letting one finger glide up to your entrance, his thumb gently rubs your clit for a second before he slides a finger in, causing your back to arch. Your legs move slightly, but the ropes hold them in place. 
"Damn, those hold better than I expected," he mumbled, pulling his finger out, it was coated with your juice and he gently licked it off. Leaning back as he examined you. "Don't know what I wanna do first," he said. "I have a whole day..." His finger slid back inside, and he gently began pumping it to gain a reaction. You whimpered out and he watched your face. 
You whined as he pulled his finger back out, leaned back, watched your chest rise and fall. "More...more Seb..." he smirked at your whines and slid the finger in, pumping a little before he slowly slid in a second. 
"That okay? Doesn't hurt?" he asked softly, waiting for an answer, leaving his fingers in place and waiting for your answer. 
You nodded, whimpering pathetically. "It's, it's fine, keep going, please..." You begged. He smiled, immediately beginning to pump his fingers into you. Your fingers dug into the bedsheets and you pleaded for more. He kept going for a while, waiting till you were close, he pulled back, slowly sliding a third finger in. "God...I'm gonna..." 
"Go on, baby, go ahead, cum," he encouraged, watching as your body tensed. Walls clenching around his fingers, he slid them out and watched the cum drip down your legs. He gently licked his fingers clean, slid off the bed, kissed your forehead. "Good job, baby, you did so good. I'll be back later." 
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It didn't take long for Sebastian to return, he poked his head into the room. He admired the way you laid in the bed, tied down still, he walked in gently kissing your forehead. "Holding up well? Boring on your own? Should I turn the TV on?" his hand gently slid down your body. 
"TV when you're gone would be nice," you answered softly. "But right now, I was thinking something else." 
Sebastian laughed softly, kissing you softly. "I was too, actually," he stepped around the bed, finding the drawer of his bedside table and opening it. He pulled out some lube, fished for the box of condoms, glanced at you, "would you...mind...?" 
You turned your head to him, "mind?" 
"Uhm..." he flushed, "I kinda want...to try the plugging today too?" 
You smiled, nodding, "that sounds hot, go for it." 
"Would you mind? No condom? Filling you? Then, uh..." 
"Do it," you answered simply, and that's all it took. He gently unzipped his jeans, took them off, followed by his boxers, he took the lube, squeezing some onto his hand. He slid some across your pussy before moving to rub it on himself. His head fell back slightly and a soft moan escaped him as he jacked himself off as he lubed himself up. 
His hands gently squeezed your thighs, he lined himself up. Easily, he slipped in, and you let out a desperate squeak. His head fell back once more as he began to gently thrust. His fingers dug into your thighs as he pumped. You moaned out, eager for more. Gripping onto the sheets as Sebastian rolled himself deeper into you. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, as he repeatedly pulled out and slammed back in. He let out soft grunts of pleasure, barely paying attention to the way you basically writhered for more. He felt the walls clenching and looked down at you. 
"That's right, fuck, milk it, c'mon, cum on it," he said, thrusting as he fucked you till you came onto his dick, he thrusted through your orgasam as your walls clenched, his head fell back as he finally let go. He grunted out in relief as his seed shot deep into you. He let himself lean down, kissing your lips before he finally pulled out, he fished out a dildo from the bedside table, and then gently shoved it into your used pussy. You grunted out a little, biting your lip. 
He waited, "is that okay? Doesn't feel bad?" he whispered, you shook your head. 
"It's...good- leave it, please..." 
"God I fucking love when you beg." 
▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱
You began to lose count of how many times Sebastian came in throughout the day, alternating methods of how he used you. He fucked you with the dildo, his fingers, his tongue, he filled you multiple times and plugged you after each time. It felt like heaven. The sun set, and you found yourself sore. When Sebastian entered the room, you debated if you could take it. His eyes wandered your body, and finally he gently leaned down and kissed your forehead. "You're all done baby, I know," he cooed. "I wasn't too much, was I?" 
You shook your head, smiling as he kissed you softly down your neck. "Too tired for words? Let me clean you up, baby, you deserve it."
"Mh, love you.." 
"I love you too," he answered, kissing your forehead again. 
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mimisempai · 1 day
Text
It's invisible but it's there
Summary
A funny accident between him and Aziraphale, leads Crowley to a moving discovery and causes them to discuss their relationship.
Notes
50 Types of Kisses - Writing Prompts
Kiss #48: One person has to bend down in order to kiss their partner, who is standing on their tip-toes to reach their partner’s.
Completely inspired by one of Neil's recent answer on tumblr
On Ao3
Rating G -  1098 words
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"Muriel, would you be so kind as to hand me the book I left on the sideboard by the door?"
Aziraphale, perched on a stepladder, stretched his arm back without turning around.
"I'm not Muriel, but I'm happy to bring you the book."
The angel shook his head and turned to see Crowley approaching, book in hand. When the demon was close, Aziraphale reached out to grab the book, but Crowley, a mischievous smile on his lips, shook his head and said, "No, no, Mr. Fell, if you want this book, you'll have to pay first."
Crowley tucked the book behind his back and, standing on tiptoe, held his face toward Aziraphale, leaving no doubt as to the currency required.
The angel rolled his eyes at his lover's antics, but leaned over to the demon and dropped a fleeting kiss on his lips. Then, just as he was about to pull away, the demon held him back with one hand and said playfully, "Angel, I'm sure this is a valuable book, so you'll have to put the money in."
"Idiot..." the angel grumbled before pressing his lips to the demon's again, making the kiss last a little longer this time.
They soon had to stop, however, as Aziraphale leaned a little too far and the stepladder tipped dangerously, causing the angel to fall.
Crowley dropped the book and caught the angel, but not fast enough to keep his own balance, so they both ended up on the ground.
Trying to right himself, Aziraphale panicked, "Crowley, are you okay, are you in pain?"
He knelt down beside Crowley, who was holding his face in his hands, and now, the angel, genuinely concerned, grabbed the demon's hands to see that he was laughing.
Aziraphale nudged him gently and said, "Idiot, I really thought you were hurt."
Between laughs, the demon replied, "Sorry, Angel, but I'm fine, I swear."
He reached behind him and brought his hand back in front of him, holding the book, and continued, "But I'm not sure your book is undamaged."
The demon looked at it more closely and frowned, "Oh, I think a page is torn."
He opened the book and added, "Ah no, it's a note."
Aziraphale panicked and reached for the book, saying, "Oh, it's nothing. Give it to me-"
But Crowley had put the book out of reach and, looking serious, asked Aziraphale, "This is your handwriting. This note is about me. What does it mean?"
The angel shook his head and replied, "I told you, it's nothing, it was a long time ago and I..."
"Does Crowley feel that connection too? If we stay away too long, will that bond break?"
Crowley held the note out to Aziraphale and asked softly,"What did you mean when you wrote that, Angel?"
Aziraphale grabbed the book and replied, his throat slightly tight with emotion, "It's Jane Eyre."
"Yes, I've seen it."
The angel opened the book, searched for a page, and turning the book to Crowley, showed him a paragraph, "Read this."
Crowley read aloud, “I have a strange feeling with regard to you. As if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly knotted to a similar string in you. And if you were to leave I’m afraid that cord of communion would snap. And I have a notion that I’d take to bleeding inwardly. As for you, you’d forget me.”
Crowley murmured, "I see..."
Then he read the note again before placing it in the book, closing it and setting it down beside him. Still sitting on the floor, he leaned against one of the bookshelves and motioned for the angel to come and sit between his spread legs.
Aziraphale slid down and once his back was pressed against the demon's chest, Crowley wrapped his arms around him and, resting his chin on the angel's head, asked softly, "When did you write this, Angel?"
Aziraphale placed his hands on the demon's intertwined hands on his stomach and replied, "In 1941, I had just realized my feelings for you, and we had never been as close as we were that day, so when you left, I began to wonder if I was the only one who had imagined this bond between us. If I was the only one who thought about you all the time when we were apart."
He felt the demon shake his head before he said with an emotional tone, "You weren't the only one."
Aziraphale took one of Crowley's hands and brought it to his lips as Crowley continued, "And lately, you seemed to be thriving, and I felt like I was treading water, and I was afraid that one day that bond would be gone."
He felt the angel about to protest, but pressed a light kiss to the fluffy hair to calm him and continued, "Let me finish, Angel. That's how I felt, but not anymore. Now, this invisible bond, I'm firmly convinced that nothing can break it. I mean, even Metatron tried, and he couldn't. In fact, looking back, I'm even sure that if you had followed him, it wouldn't have broken."
He couldn't help but smile as he felt the angel nod repeatedly to show that he shared the same conviction.
Crowley leaned forward and said in his lover's ear, "Then you can throw away this little note."
Aziraphale replied, "Yes, I now have the answer to both questions. This bond is real and here and unbreakable."
He turned his head and their lips met in a tender kiss that lasted until a slight cough caused them to part and look up.
Muriel, hands on hips, one eyebrow raised, asked them, "What are you doing?"
Crowley grabbed Jane Eyre and held it up, saying, "We're just arranging books."
Muriel shook their head and replied, "And to think I'm the one who's supposed to be learning from you."
Crowley and Aziraphale looked at each other before breaking into a chorus of laughter, then the demon stood and reached out to help the angel to his feet.
Then he put his arm around Muriel's shoulders and said, "Come on, my little bee, I'll buy you a hot chocolate at Nina's to celebrate."
The angel asked, confused, "To celebrate what?"
Crowley took Aziraphale's hand with his other hand and as their fingers intertwined, he said in a softer tone, "To celebrate an unbreakable bond."
"A bond? But I don't see anything."
Aziraphale replied to Muriel with a smile, "It's invisible, but it's there."
Muriel thought to themself that they did indeed have a lot to learn.
_________
Still not beta'd
Still not my native language
Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰
Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝
Ineffable kisses series : here
Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here
Ineffable Growing Love - Series post S2
Part 1 Story 1-99
Part 2 Story 100-?
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azrielbrainrot · 3 hours
Text
I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 6
Azriel x Reader
Description: Azriel would give anything to hold you one more time.
Warnings: Violence, Torture, Gore
Word Count: 5550
Notes: This took me a bit longer to write than I anticipated but I wanted to make sure not to forget any details. Hope you enjoy!
Part 5
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The sun was already shining high in the sky when you finally stepped out of the dungeon. Feyre had arrived with Cassian and Amren a few minutes earlier, ordering her mate, you and Azriel to go and get some rest while they took over for a few hours. Rhysand could only use his daemati powers for so long and the strain was starting to become visible on his face, so she likely could feel his fatigue through their mating bond. His efforts were starting to be in vain anyway, you needed to wear Norris down a lot more physically before his mental walls would start giving in.
You didn't want to leave at first, completely unwilling to take your eyes off Norris for even a second, but both you and Azriel had been forced to go take a bath and eat something, maybe even get some sleep and only come back later in the day. Logically this made perfect sense, but you'd rather stay with him until he told you everything you wanted to know. You believe them all to be more than capable of handling this but you also know Norris, if anyone could find a way to escape from the Night Court's dungeons it would be him.
Still, you knew it was going to take a lot longer than a few hours to crack Norris so you needed to keep your strength, you wouldn't be any help at all if you exhausted yourself. Apparently the same wards around your memories were also present in Norris' mind, meaning Rhysand was only able to knock him out in the forest but not read through his thoughts, the same way he wasn't able to reach your memories before. This meant he was the one in control of said wards, both his and yours. Amren was quick to explain that since they had been done with the help of a witch's tool, he had to have it with him to keep up his wards since it wasn't his own magic that was keeping them in place.
It also explains why he risked becoming your handler even though letting you know him could lead to this exact outcome. He needed to strengthen your wards every once in a while to make sure no memory slipped through them. Unfortunately, even without his checkups the wards were strong enough that simply time wouldn't give your memories back in full, at best only letting you see some fragments. There was also no way of knowing what they could do to your mind when left unattended so your only option was to keep pushing him until he told you everything you needed to know.
The tool he used couldn't be far, he either had it on his person or hid it somewhere close before meeting you in the forest. You've searched through his belongings more than once, as did everyone present in the cell, including Azriel's shadows, but came up empty. He likely had a powerful glamour cast on it, one you had to make him break. Getting your hands on that tool meant you could break both the wards around his mind, which would grant Rhysand access to any and every piece of information he wanted, and the wards keeping your memories hidden inside you. One simple object could set you free.
Azriel winnowed you to the middle of the mountains surrounding Velaris, right behind the House of Wind, making sure no one in the city could see your bodies drenched in blood but unable to winnow you straight home. Having a house protected by wards that didn't allow for any winnowing, even by its inhabitants, was really good in theory, you've never seen a safer place really, but in practice having to fly up every time was more than annoying, especially when you don't have wings of your own.
The air was strangely awkward around the two of you since you hadn't spoken a word to each other after the short argument in the forest. Most of your annoyance had worn off at this point, got redirected at your smug handler chained up in the dungeon, but you still wanted him to be the one to come to you and explain himself. His attitude earlier had seemed completely different from everything you'd experienced until then, you know there's a reason for it but you're too prideful to ask him about it.
The only plausible reason you could think of is that he's been using you to get to an assassin with a higher up position in the guild, but something told you immediately that wasn't the case, it seems like a part of you balked at the thought that he'd betray you like this. Even putting your annoying phantom feelings aside, it didn't make sense considering the High Lord has followed his word on letting you help in interrogating Norris. Your mind was fresh out of ideas, and much too tired to analyze that small argument. He'll tell you what happened eventually, and if he doesn't… Well, then it's a good thing you didn't get your hopes up even more.
“I'll fly you up to the House,” his voice was scratchy from not being used in so long, making it deeper as he almost whispered beside you, not wanting to disturb the quietness in the mountain. Azriel had done most of the cutting and breaking but he hadn't even asked Norris any questions, content in letting you and Rhysand take over the interrogation while he carved out Norris' skin. You can't be sure if it was because of your fight or just the grueling last few hours but he didn't seem to be in the best mood anyway.
You nod up at him, simply walking closer and letting him pick you up into his warm embrace, strong hands careful as they handle your body. You've only flown once - from what you can remember at least, you can't imagine a version of yourself who wouldn't ask her husband to take her flying regularly if he had wings - and, given the circumstances, you didn't really have the chance to stop and truly enjoy the moment. It would be the same now, even worse given the fact that you'd rather not deal with the shadowsinger, but the breeze hitting against your tired body sounded heavenly, and so did the big bathtub and soft mattress waiting for you up in your room. There was also no energy left in your body to even try to argue with him, if there was you would have been using it on your handler.
His body relaxes slightly when you simply slip your arms around his neck, his wings stretching and flapping a couple of times as he got ready to take flight. He looked like he was expecting you to refuse, as if there was any other way to the House besides flying and he wasn't the only Illyrian here.
The actual flight doesn't take long, within a few moments Azriel is gently setting you down back on your feet at the top of the stairs, hands lingering on your body as if moving on their own, a habit he can't quite break himself out of. You meet his eyes, briefly wondering if you should say something, debating if you have enough patience in yourself to extend a small olive branch to the male who is covered in the blood of your enemy.
He beats you to it, looking down before speaking as if he couldn't hold your gaze for top long - yet another way he's acting out of character. “You're free to do what you want. I'll meet you in your room and fly you back to the dungeon when it's time. I won't bother you before that.” The professional, detached tone in his voice makes your annoyance want to rise up but you swallow it down, realizing how tired you really were as soon as you had stepped foot inside the house.
“Alright,” you tell him before turning around and walking straight to your room, never looking back to see his reaction or the way regret flashes in his eyes as he watches your every step away from him.
Azriel stayed true to his word, only coming to check in on you right before it was time to return. You can't even be sure if he stayed in his room the whole time, if he truly spent these few hours resting as he was ordered since there was no sound coming from his room or around the house at all. Curiosity had gotten the best of you a couple of hours ago, when you woke up from your nap feeling strangely alone, like a piece of you was begging to go find him. This feeling was clutching at your heart for long enough that you actually considered going to find Azriel, but held on since you didn't fully know your way around the house and you had no idea where he could be. You didn't really know what to say either.
Luckily it wasn't long until you heard his footsteps getting closer to your room before a soft knock sounded at the door. He always does this, makes sure to let himself be heard before knocking. Sitting up at the edge of the mattress, you call out to him, wondering if he'll tell you anything now or simply fly you back to the cells.
As soon as his form comes into view you can tell he hasn't slept much if anything at all, dark circles prominent under his eyes. He's at least taken a bath, the sullied leathers were now replaced with new ones, the stench of blood not clinging to him anymore. You're wearing some yourself, your old ones as you've been told. Your clothes were ruined and putting them back on would defeat the purpose of the bath you took earlier, but it feels weird to wear a version of what you always see Azriel and his family in. He takes notice of this as well, hazel eyes raking over your form, lingering around your waist long enough for you to start feeling self conscious, standing up and taking a step closer to him almost involuntarily.
“Is anything wrong? I thought you left them for me to wear.” Since he had given you the leathers along with your old belongings you had assumed you were allowed to wear them, but, at this point, these clothes were more his than yours. Maybe he was scared you'd ruin them and he'd lose his memories of you.
“No, that's not it. They're yours,” he assures quickly, eyes widening slightly before a conflicted expression takes over his face. “The buckles are done wrong,” his observation makes you look down at yourself, there were more straps and buckles than necessary for any piece of garment and you'd taken a bit longer to figure it out than you cared to admit, apparently you should have taken even longer.
Your fingers reach for the straps around your waist, tugging at the leather before he continues, “I can help you with them. They can be hard to put on if you're not used to it.” When you look up from the confusing clothes and your eyes move to meet his, you find him watching your hands hesitantly, his own flexing at his sides. You end up agreeing without even thinking it through, something you almost regret when he walks closer to you and suddenly all you can see and smell is Azriel.
He looks into your eyes before reaching out to the buckles around your waist slowly, giving you a chance to push him away, almost expecting you to. You drop your hands at your sides awkwardly, not knowing what to do with them or yourself when he starts working on your leathers. Expert fingers undo the buckle before pulling on the straps, unexpectedly tightening your armor in the process which pulls a startled gasp out of you. His hands move to grab your waist, surprised by your reaction. Wide hazel eyes meet yours at the sound, a heat spreading within them the longer he holds your gaze, hands frozen around your waist.
All your senses are overwhelmed with him so close, staring down at you like that. The only thing you can think of is the kiss you shared a few nights ago, your entire body begging to repeat the action as he looks down at you with the same passionate look he had worn then. He seems to be reminded of the same, perhaps of similar moments from your previous life, even more scandalous ones surely.
Thankfully, some of your common sense finds you before you could do something stupid like pull him down to you and taste him again, the thought making you look away from him and clear your throat, hoping he breaks from the spell and lets you pretend it didn't happen. This prompts him to keep buckling the leathers, with an urgency he didn't have before, and you look down with him, following his movements even though your mind isn't actually registering any of them as you try to calm your breathing and not think of the way his hands feel around your waist. You'll likely need his help fastening everything tomorrow as well.
“These are meant to cross so the leathers are molded to your body and there are no openings,” he tries to explain as he finishes and moves back, but you can tell he's as affected by your little moment as you were.
You nod at him, “There were a lot of straps, I wasn't sure which ones belonged where. Some of them don't even look like they have a purpose,” you finish as you play with the straps around your wrists, the ones you really couldn't figure out.
“Those are for your gloves,” he explains, a somewhat endeared look crossing his face. “I didn't think you'd need them but you can put them on. Though I'm not sure how they will behave with your powers now.”
“Did I not have these powers before?” You hadn't thought of the possibility but if the spell could erase your memories maybe Norris could have found a way to give or take powers. Just the thought of it brings a chill down your spine.
“You did, but you've gotten a lot stronger,” there was a hint of pride in his words, though the somber meaning hung between you. No matter how hard you practiced and how well they could have trained you here, the results wouldn't be as fast or maybe as clean as the ones resulting from the guild's harsh training. The guild had no problem pushing you past your limits, you either adapted and got stronger or you'd die and be replaced. You suppose you never had to use your powers to torture people before either.
“When this all ends we could spar together,” you sound hesitant even to your own ears, “Maybe I'm even stronger than you by now.” You haven't talked about what will happen after all of this, you can't know for sure what you'll want to do when you recover your memories. You also keenly aware you had just been telling yourself you wouldn't make it easy on him, but ended up seconds away from kissing him and inviting him to spar with you as soon as you saw him.
“I'd like that,” he nods, a reddish tint rushing to his ears. He makes it unbearably hard to even remember why you were upset with him in the first place. It takes everything in you not to lean into his genuineness and forget it ever happened. You bite your lip and give him a small nod of your own, “Are you ready then? We should go.”
“I wanted to talk to you before we left,” his voice takes on a serious tone, regret peeking through every word.
“Maybe this is not the right time. They're probably waiting for us,” you offered, not really sure how to go about having this conversation after what had just happened, even if the curiosity was killing you. It was clear you couldn't keep a level head when it came to Azriel.
“No, I can't…” he cuts himself off, closing his eyes and letting out a sigh, a heavy sound coming from deep in his chest as if he’s been pushing it down for a long time. He looks scared somehow, his wings pulling in tighter to his body and his shadows crawling up his shoulders as if comforting, or even encouraging him. You let him find his composure, find the right words to explain the situation. This feels bigger than a silly argument when adrenaline was pumping through both your veins and that gnawing feeling in your chest comes back, getting stronger with every breath, making you think this might be something he's carried on from the time you were still married.
Azriel opens his eyes after a few moments, the emotions swirling in them enough to make you breathless, and reaches his hand out to yours, waiting for you to accept it and then squeezing it tight as if he needs the reminder that you're real.
“I need you to know I wasn't trying to keep any secrets from you or order you around as you said,” he starts lowly, shiny hazel eyes alternating between watching your hands clasped together and staring deep into your eyes, “We've had this conversation many times before. I know you don't remember but I need you to know I never meant to make you think I want to have any sort of power over you.” He brings your hand up to his chest then, spreading your palm right over his beating heart as he continues, eyes never straying from yours, “I know you can handle yourself, and I know you want to be there when Norris tells you everything. I wasn't trying to keep you away from the dungeon because I didn't think you could handle it.”
“Then why?” Your voice is but a whisper, not wanting to disturb the vulnerable moment.
“I never let you see me down there before, know the monster I have to become. You tried, many times, but I never allowed it. I've always been too afraid of what your reaction would be,” he presses his hand down on yours a little harder as his heart beat picks up, “It would kill me if you were ever scared of me, if you couldn't love me anymore after learning who I am. I was so scared of losing you. Scared that you would ever look at me with fear in your eyes instead of love.”
You let your gaze fall to the way he presses his and your hand to his chest, letting his heartbeat lead yours. It takes a moment for you to process his admission. From what he told you before you thought you had been open with each other throughout your marriage, but it seems there were parts of him he kept hidden even from you, especially from you.
Moments like these always leave you in a weird position. You can't speak for the old version of you, as much as you want to believe that you wouldn't leave him, would never feel scared of him, when your love for him transcended your memories as if it was written down into your bones, the truth is you don't remember her at all. Maybe she would have been scared, maybe his worries hadn't been completely unwarranted then. The thought leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.
You turn your hand around, your palm no longer pressed against his chest in favor of holding onto his hand, your other hand joining in as you massage the rough skin and let them fall between you two, needing something familiar to ground yourself while you think of what to say. You twist his wedding ring around his finger once, closing your eyes at the tremble that runs through him at the motion, the way even his wings droop to the floor. The fact that he lets you touch him like this makes things so much harder sometimes.
“I've seen a lot of monsters. You're not one of them, Azriel. Far from it,” you start carefully, “and… I'm not sure how I was like before, if seeing you down there would have really been too much for me to handle but if I truly loved you like I think I did, then I know it wouldn't have mattered. There's nothing about you I see as unlovable.”
“Loved,” a broken mumble between you, not a question. This makes you look up at him. You want to deny it, tell him you still love him, but you can't make sense of the feelings inside you, can't say for sure what will happen to them when you regain your memories. Most of all, you don't want to hurt him, give him hope when he already lost so much, when you already hurt him so much.
You drop his hand, taking a small step back. “I'm not the same person you used to know, and recovering my memories might not bring her back either. Most of what's left is just my body.”
“It doesn't matter,” he says so matter-of-factly it almost makes you want to believe him.
“Azriel-”
“No,” he brings both of his hands to hold onto your face gently, giving you no option but to look into his eyes, “I love you. That didn't change when you died or over the century that followed, when I didn't think I would ever see you again. It didn't change when I saw you in the townhouse or even when you stabbed me. And it won't change whether you get your memories back or not, if you choose to stay or not.”
“I don't love you,” the words stumble out desperately, tears gathering in your eyes, “I don't even remember you, Azriel.”
“That doesn't change it either,” he smiles, thumb caressing your cheek softly. You know he means it then, know there's no way to change his mind even if for his own good. You can only pray to the Mother that your memories don't give you any unpleasant surprises. You're trying so hard to keep his heart safe, why must he keep offering to rip it out of his chest for you?
His expression changes abruptly as you're lost in thought and soon after you feel a presence in your mind before Rhysand's voice comes through. I hope I'm not interrupting anything. Azriel's hands drop from your face then, a scowl overcoming his features. You can only imagine the words he's throwing at his brother in his mind, but Rhysand's voice returns, noticeably more amused, Our break is over. It's time to meet them back at the dungeon. I take it you'll fly our captive back? The answering growl that comes from the shadowsinger actually makes you hide a chuckle behind your hand. His gaze softening once again when he notices the gesture.
Despite the timing and the way he insisted on addressing you as “captive” to rile Azriel up, you could actually thank Rhysand for breaking you away from the moment. He's right, you've rested more than enough and it's now time to go back and finish what you started. You only have the luxury of dealing with your marriage after Norris is gone and you could actually remember your husband.
The flight to the dungeon is a lot easier this time as your prior annoyance was replaced with strangely welcomed awkwardness and a tinge of bashfulness. As much as you tried to deny it, you can't pretend Azriel's admission hadn't made your heart want to leap out of your chest. You don't think anyone could have remained impartial to such a confession, especially coming from a male like Azriel, but as soon as you step into the dungeon, you feel yourself morph back into the cold assassin. You could even feel Azriel's mask fall over his face as well, ready to resume what you'd started before.
This same routine is repeated for a few days, slowly but surely wearing the formidable assassin down. It wouldn't be long until Rhysand or Feyre could read through his mind completely even if he didn't willingly tell you anything. This sentiment was felt among all of you, it's like you could all taste how close he was to breaking.
You came back from one of your mandatory breaks to see Cassian leaning by the cell door, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at your prisoner as Amren stood in the middle of the cell covered in blood, a wicked grin on her face as Norris looked the most unsettled you'd ever seen him. She was told to hold back in the first days but since Norris insists on resisting, Rhysand had allowed her to toy with him. You truly hope you never cross her, just the thought of the things she could do makes every hair on your body stand.
Everyone stays in the room this time, knowing it's only a matter of time. Azriel takes over once more, every slash of his knife meant to give Norris unimaginable pain, completely focused on making the short remaining of his life as miserable as he can.
The difference between the male who had confessed his undying love to you, held your hand as if you were the most precious thing in this world, and the one expertly carving out your former handler's body was almost unbelievable. Azriel's face showed nothing but anger, and even then you knew it wasn't even a quarter of the seething fury burning inside of him. This wasn't your doting husband, this was the Spymaster.
You feel Rhysand's dramatic show of power before you see him walk into the cell, hands in pockets as if he was walking into his kitchen instead of a seedy dungeon reeking of blood and sweat. He passes by you and joins Azriel in tormenting Norris, letting sharp black talons run across the mental walls he's been so desperate to maintain. The smirk on his mate's face, who leans against the table calmly by your side, tells you they might even be teaming up on him.
Fatigue was starting to eat away at everyone the longer you spent inside the windowless cell, but, as Norris smirks lessened and his bared teeth stopped being enough to hide the obvious grunts of pain, his skin paling considerably as his blood pooled at his feet, it was clear that you were on the right track, only needed to keep pushing.
Your handler had started answering more questions too, if only to keep you distracted and away from any blades long enough. It's hard to believe that the male you've been frightened of for a century is the same one chained in front of you. If it weren't for the stubbornness and the pride he's managed to keep somehow, you wouldn't have believed it at all.
“This whole mission was a gamble. We couldn't know for sure if they'd written you off their wards even if they thought you were dead. When you walked in so easily I thought it would be a piece of cake from there. Seems I was wrong.” You had guessed as much. At the time, being sent to an unknown place on such short notice seemed strange and sloppy for how usually crafted the guild's plans were, but knowing what you do now, it makes sense. Not only were you written into the wards as he said, but if it hadn't been for the strange nostalgic feelings inside you, Azriel would have let you escape, you would have even killed him to do so.
“The spell should have sealed your memories and feelings tight,” Norris continues as if sensing your thoughts, “I'm not sure what is trying so hard to claw its way out from behind those walls.” He tilts his head to the side and pauses as if he found the answer and that self-assured smirk reappears on his lips. The sight makes your skin crawl, your powers reacting with you and sending an icy chill into the room. Temperature dropping as his smirk only widens even more and Azriel looks at you with a worried expression before catching himself. “Maybe I just messed up the spell,” he dismisses.
“What do you mean?”
“It is a tricky spell,” he shrugs nonchalantly, knowing that's not what you asked. Azriel moves before you, Truth Teller slashing across his skin for the millionth time, but Norris seems intent on keeping at least this last piece of information to himself. There's more to this, you know there is, but the interrogation moves on to matters of the guild. Rhysand is still worried that they will come for you now that you've deserted, and that they will bring harm to his beloved court.
Within the next few hours, Norris' healing stops being able to keep up with his injuries, even his voice losing strength. It seems like he was focusing the remaining of his energy on keeping his mental walls safe, but it's not long until you see Rhysand's smirk grow, a satisfied wicked thing on his face.
You watch as Norris' head goes limp, unfocused eyes dropping to the ground as the High Lord searches through his mind, probably making it as unpleasant as he possibly can. Your heart starts beating faster in your chest, anxiety building up at the thought that this could have all been for nothing, that Norris might not have the answer after all. You feel a hand on your shoulder but don't even have the mind to look back and check who is trying to comfort you.
When he finally steps back, he simply gives you a nod and a breath of relief escapes you as you stare back into Norris' eyes. You watch Azriel and Rhysand share a look in the corner of your eye, never daring to look away from Norris' defeated face. Within moments everyone starts clearing out of the cell in silence, leaving you and your shadowsinger standing over the prisoner.
It's only when Azriel's hand reaches for yours, tugging on it to get your attention that you look away. His eyes don't give away much and he doesn't say the words, but as he places Truth Teller in the palm of your hand, you know exactly what he means. He nods at you once and drops your hand, taking a step back and giving you space.
You look down at the dagger in your hands, the same one you had held to wound the male who now handed it to you, the one you'll now use to set yourself free. Describing the feeling running through your body is impossible, you always thought you'd die in the guild, as an assassin. Never even dared to think you could be more, never thought it would be possible to get out alive and find a life for yourself. You thought you'd be scared at the prospect but you can only feel excitement and relief.
Not wanting to waste any more time, you walk to Norris and pull on his hair to lift your face to his, so he can see all the hate and anger in your gaze before you stab the knife through his right eye slowly, making sure to get it through his brain, deep enough that no amount of healing or any trick he might have had up his sleeve would be able to save him, and twisting it around. You don't move for a few moments, listening for his heartbeat and paying attention to the blood seeping out of the wound. It's only when you're sure he's dead, that his heart is completely quiet and enough blood has poured out, that you pull the knife out with a squelching sound, flicking it down to get rid of most of the blood and any pieces of flesh stuck to it.
You hesitate for a moment before turning back, meeting Azriel's eyes. As much as you'd told him there was no need for him to worry of your opinion of him changing after witnessing what he did to Norris, of ever being afraid of him, you had hypocritically been scared of letting him see you like this, of seeing the cold blooded killer you had become, so far detached from the wife in his memories.
All your worries are proven baseless however. The only thing you can distinguish in his eyes is relief, at having the answer to getting your memories back and having the person responsible for your pain killed. You can't help the smile growing on your face, not caring for how it must look against the blood covering most of your body, and wrap your arms around Azriel's neck, pulling him down into a hug as a sigh of relief escapes you, tears rising to your eyes and flowing down your cheeks. His arms come around you immediately, tightening his grip on you and burying his face in your neck, tears of his own wetting your skin.
You're finally free.
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Clone wars headcanons that took me forever to edit
I feel like my last couple of headcanons have been mushy so I’ve decided to write some shit Ahsoka and Anakin do that piss each other off 
Ahsoka bites the skin around her nails all the time and most of the time she won't stop till they’re bleeding 
Anakin’s tried literally everything in the book to get her to stop 
He tried putting spices on her hands forgetting that she likes spicy food, he’s tried painting her nails (like that’ll do anything) but she keeps picking the paint off, now he just uses the force to remove them from her mouth 
That’s gotten a few growls from her but at least it makes her aware she’s doing it but it doesn’t stop her from bitting them a couple of seconds later
Honestly he’s given up and just sits in silence while she complains about the pain
Anakin paces whenever he’s even slightly nervous and she can tell how nervous he is depending on how fast he moves 
If he’s just kinda anxious he moves pretty slow but if he’s like one shirt caught on a door handle away from a panic attack he’s teleporting 
When Padme told him he was gonna be a dad he was ecstatic for about 24 hours but after that some invisible timer went off in his head he booked it to Ahsoka’s house (she lives down the street cause of course she does)
Walked into her room and woke her poor sleepy butt up with all his pacing 
Girl swears to this day he broke the damn sound barrier with how fast he was moving 
She just wordlessly sat up and patted her bed cause she knew she wasn’t gonna get any sleep until he did 
She sat by him and listened as he rattled off all his worries and only really stepped in when the darker thoughts surfaced when it was all said and done she turned to him and said “Now let me kriffing sleep” 
Should he have probably left the room yeah but he got a total of 30 minutes of “sleep” that night so it’s not surprising that he knocked the fuck out of
Padme was a little bit alarmed to wake up without Anakin but was quickly soothed when she read Ahsoka’s message “Your nerf herders with me” 
She knew the pregnancy would dredge up some unhappy feelings and she also knew Anakin can’t think clearly if he doesn’t have Ahsoka to sort through the bullshit in his head 
She just got ready for brunch with her two favorite people and smiled cause she knew Obi-Wan and Rex would join them for dinner with or without an invitation 
When Anakin and Ahsoka were living together they would kick each other out of their own bathrooms 
Why? Well Ahsoka said Anakin’s had better lighting and water pressure and Anakin would do it to spite Ahsoka because he knew it would piss her off  
Slowly but surely their stuff gets moved into each other's bathrooms and it’s a weird amalgamation of crap 
Also when they were living together Anakin would ask Ahsoka if she was hungry before cooking and she’d often say no because she didn’t want to impose but his cooking always looked and smelled good 
So half the time girl would just end up eating some of his food when she thought he wasn’t looking 
At first he was like “Snips you said you weren’t hungry” to which she would respond “Yeah I wasn’t hungry then but I am now” after that he starts making more food on instinct cause damn that girl can eat 
Anakin gets back at her pretty easily tho by taking the first bite of her food whenever they go out to eat his excuse is that he’s “making sure it’s not poisoned” he never does this to Padme cause he respects her too damn much 
And he can’t use that trick on Obi-Wan and Rex cause the former taught him the trick and the latter has a bullshit detecter built-in 
Both Anakin and Ahsoka pull that trick on the twins tho (which gets them a quick scolding from Padme) 
Speaking of the twins it’s not surprising that as they grow up they realize that their auntie isn’t human so of course like any normal child they have questions and Anakin being the little shit that he is spots an opportunity for some laughs 
So he turns to the twins all serious-like and goes “Well my loves we actually found your auntie in a dumpster we have no idea where she came from” the twins are distraught and go to the nearest adult who just so happens to be their uncle Rex 
And Rex also being a little shit backs up Anakin’s story with so much sincerity that even Anakin believed it a little bit 
The twins being the angels they are apologize to their auntie for her terrible origin story with tears in their eyes and her reaction more than made up for the swift ass-kicking the boys got  
When Anakin was taller than Ahsoka he made her life hell by making fun of her every time something was even slightly out of her reach
He would make a big deal about grabbing it for her while commenting about how the temple’s architecture wasn’t made with the “young ones” in mind 
Obi-Wan has turned multiple blind eyes when Ahsoka socked the shit out of his arms when he tells one too many jokes some days
When she finally grows taller than him she makes the biggest deal about it and no one can blame her 
While Anakin is the pilot Ahsoka is easily the navigator she often jokes that Anakin wouldn’t find his way out of bed without help 
Which is funny cause he often acts like a herding dog with her putting his hand on her back or holding her arm to guide her 
But he’s wrong 9/10 times so it’s not uncommon to see Anakin guiding her in one direction and then see him get dragged in the opposite direction a couple of minutes later  
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whatitshouldvebeen · 2 days
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as someone who has self harm scars i was curious. what do you think johnny would think if he saw his s/o (or victim) had some? also i love ur writing so much <3 hope ur staying hydrated and getting enough sleep !!
First tysm for loving my writing!! I have the type of ADHD where I forget to drink anything so unfortunately not but I do get decent sleep ty for asking ❤️ I hope you enjoy the fic and remember, Johnny is not a licensed therapist so please don't follow his suggestions 😂
Scars of the Past
Pairing: Johnny Slaughter x reader
Warnings: self-harm, blood, local insane man is certain he can make a girl feel better via knifeplay, MINORS DNI
Wordcount: 1,670
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Maybe Johnny was stupid for hitting the same place twice after already having picked up a girl, but he had to see if you were still around. You, the girl who checked everyone into the nightclub. The girl he’d been following home for the last week. When you'd taken his hand to stamp it, he honed in on your wrists right away. Scars, and plenty of them.
You were accustomed to getting looks and were used to it by now, so all you did was smile at him and usher him inside. He left a few hours later with a drunk girl on his arm and that was that, or so you thought.
So when the club closed around twelve, you were surprised to see the same tall, dark, and handsome man from last night push himself off the brick wall and approach you.
"Hello, little miss," he drawled as he stopped in front of you while you put on your jacket.
"Oh, hey," you replied, not fully engaged.
"I'm Johnny. What's your name?" he asked.
You glanced up at him and shared your name as you finished fastening your coat.
"Pretty name for a pretty girl," he remarked.
"Thanks. Listen, I gotta get home now—" you began, but he interrupted by taking your hand, drawing your attention back to him.
"I couldn't help but notice your scars," he said, pushing your sleeve back to inspect the faded white lines. Your gaze shifted to his, noticing a large scar over his eye that you hadn't seen before.
"I doubt you did that to yourself," you responded with a half-smile.
"My ma did it," he said, catching you off guard.
"I'm sorry," you said softly.
He brushed it off. "It’s fine. But I'm curious, why'd you do this to yourself?" he asked, genuine interest in his eyes.
You looked into Johnny's dark gaze, surprised to find understanding rather than judgment. "My childhood wasn't the greatest," you explained with a shrug.
"Don't most people hide their scars?" he inquired.
"I don't care what people think. I'm in a better place now," you replied, trying to reassure both him and yourself.
“Are you?” He asked, running his thumb over your scars. You didn't know that he'd seen you through your bathroom window, curled up on the floor of your shower, sobbing. You didn't know he'd seen why you called out three days ago, because you couldn't bear to drag yourself out of bed.
Feeling uncomfortable, you pulled your wrist away. "Yeah, I'm fine," you insisted, attempting to brush past him, but he blocked your path.
You then felt something that made all the color drain from your face. A knife, pressed against your abdomen.
“Nah, I think you'll be coming home with me tonight,” he hissed low in your ear.
He drove you to a hotel, and checked into a room, always keeping the knife at the small of your back.
“I'd take you home to mama, but she gets funny,” he said, gesturing to his scar.
“Why are you doing this?” You asked as he opened the hotel room door, pushing you inside before him.
“Tell me your favorite part about cutting,” he demanded, locking the door behind you.
"What?" you asked incredulously.
“You heard me,” he replied, removing his shirt and revealing numerous scars that crisscrossed his pale skin.
"Did you do that to yourself?" you asked, taken aback by the sight.
“I asked you a question first, missy,” he retorted with a cocky grin.
You sighed, sitting down shakily on the bed. “I just like to be reminded that I'm alive, okay? Shit hurts too much,” you mumbled.
“Well, you're certainly alive, darlin’. A whole club of people pretending to be happy, then there's you,” he remarked, stepping closer with a predatory gleam in his eye. “I can see you better ‘n all them. I see through the walls you built. You're not okay, but you could be,” he said, then turned his Bowie knife around, holding the handle towards you.
"What the hell?" you whispered, feeling a mixture of fear and confusion.
“Cut me. Tell me if it makes you feel alive the same way it does when you cut yourself,” he instructed, as if it was the most normal request in the world.
You took the knife, raising an eyebrow at him. He didn't move, he just stood and watched you with a gleam in his eye.
You stood, holding the knife so tightly your fingers hurt. You could've slit his throat, or tried to anyway. Why did he kidnap you just to hand you a knife? Did he have a death wish?
Adrenaline made your heart pound in your ears. He wasn't moving… he must be serious. You raised the knife, took a deep breath, then sliced it across his chest.
“Ooh,” he winced, hissing through his teeth, “got me good. Must be all the practice,” he said with a laugh. All you could do was stare as crimson cascaded down his torso.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” You asked, the knife still limply held in your hand.
“Same thing as you,” he responded simply, running his hand over his abdomen and bringing his fingers to his lips, staining them red.
“Are you going to kill me?” You asked anxiously.
“Why you askin’ me that, you're the one with the knife!” He laughed.
You looked down at the bloodied knife in your hand and realized something. In this instance, you look guilty. If you were to try anything, he could very easily claim you assaulted him.
“Guess you're in a pickle, lil’ missy. Let me help you outta it.” He stepped forward, leaning toward you. “But before I do, tell me how it felt.”
You took a deep breath, watching as the blood continued to seep from his wound he wasn’t bothering to stifle.
“It felt the same as when I cut myself, I guess,” you admitted. “I felt alive.”
“Knew it.” Johnny grinned. “In that case, I have a proposition for ya.”
He set one bloodied knuckle under your chin, angling your eyes to meet his. “There's someone who's stumbled onto my property, you see. Trespassin’. I could use some help teachin’ them a lesson. Might help you feel the same way you did cutting me.”
“I don't know, I'm not a bad person,” you said, your heart still pounding like mad.
“You aren't, but you felt that thrill, didn't ya? The world ain't black and white sweetheart.” He shrugs, moving to the bathroom and grabbing a towel, wrapping it around his abdomen. “Far as I see it, trespassers need to be punished. Come with me. If you do, I'll let you go without a fuss. But I can promise you that you'll be back.”
“And if I don't?” You asked hesitantly.
“Well then, either you escape and I tell the cops you cut me open… or I kill you before you get the chance,” he said matter-of-factly, his demeanor chillingly calm.
You held up the knife, pointing it toward him, a futile attempt to assert some control over the situation.
“If you try it, I know how to survive, darlin’, and it only makes you look more guilty,” he said confidently, approaching you and allowing the knife to dimple his stomach when he reached you.
“Come with me,” he said, wrapping his hand around yours, which was still gripping the knife.
You continued to hold on, but deep down, you knew you stood no chance against this man. So, you let go.
“There ya go,” he said, his face lighting up. “Oh darlin’, we're gonna have so much fun.”
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venturelovebot · 20 hours
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A/N: AAAAAHHHH my wrists, fingers and elbows hurt but it's done. It took me literally all night to write this. If it doesn't show up in the tags, or if it horrifically flops, I do not care. I loved every moment I poured into writing this and I'll reread it until the end of time and YES I will write a sequel to it AND MORE because I love it that much. Just not right now because ouch. BTW this references what happens in "Plushie Problem" so if you're confused you should read that, too!
Premise: Anxious!GN!reader steps out of their comfort zone for the very first time in a long time. Of course, what could possibly go wrong? Featuring SunShrine and MekaMechanic cameos!
Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and assault (not SA). Otherwise it's safe to read!
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You feel the dread building up in your stomach as sun began to set over the horizon– but you were ready. Living your life in fear turned out to be exceptionally boring, even if you weren't exactly the loneliest person on earth anymore. This would be your big first step into interacting with the rest of the world and obviously there would be some anxiety. However, no one does anxiety as well as you do. There is where the problem lies.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" You can hear the worry in Sloan's voice. Perhaps you've started rubbing off on them.
"I think so."
You step outside the bedroom and smile, but even that seemed to be out of fear.
"I'm proud of you for trying this. You look amazing, by the way." Their compliment turns your anxious smile into a cheerful grin.
You've never dressed up this much before. It almost reminded you of an early 2000's Hot Topic ad, and they were dressed no differently.
Your beloved wraps their arms around you and pulls you in for a tight, comforting hug. They nuzzle their face to yours and you begin to feel the lead in your stomach lighten to feathers.
"Don't forget your backpack." They hand you your heart shaped backpack adorned with bat wings.
You open the zipper and check for everything inside: fidget toys, tiny weighted [favorite animal] plushie, protective ear wear decorated with stickers, anxiety pills, phone, wallet. That was everything.
"Are you ready?"
You take a deep breath in and exhale to center yourself before the door opens.
"I'm ready."
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The venue wasn't particularly crowded tonight and you were deeply thankful for that. Colorful flashing lights could be seen on both stories of the building with loud music playing from within. Then the anxiety hit you like a pound of bricks.
"We still have time to go home." Sloan offers, seeing apprehension beginning to form on your face.
"Maybe just twenty minutes... then we go home." You frown.
"Whatever you want to do, mi cielo."
You gaze down at the ground next and weigh both options in your mind. On one hand you could avoid anything unpleasant happening by just going home. On the other hand you'd miss you and your beloveds favorite band as the closing act. While arguing with yourself you can feel their arm wrap around your waist to help you feel safer.
Quite the conflict.
You swallow nervously and put on your hearing protection. "Okay."
The two of you approach the main entrance and your trembling continues. As soon as the door opens it feels like the music permeates you down to your very atoms. Never in your entire life had you heard anything so needlessly and obnoxiously loud. The ear protection helps slightly but you still couldn't hear yourself think. There's also no point in trying to talk as you wouldn't be heard anyway. Instead, you tug on Sloan's shirt and they turn towards you immediately. You point upwards towards the second floor and they nod.
The relief as soon as you stepped on the upper floor was immense. Whatever magic they used to make it monumentally quieter up here should be used considerably more in all public spaces. You feel confident enough to remove your hearing protection and place it around your neck for now.
"Do you mind if we stay up here?" You ask.
"Of course not. Wherever you feel safest!"
You're so thankful that they're understanding.
You both sit near the back of the venue on a row of interconnected seating where it was dimmer so the flashing lights didn't irritate your eyes.
"You're doing great so far!"
Sloan cups your face affectionately and you reach up to place your hand over theirs. The two of you watch everything going on from your safe little place in the corner– and the view was by no means bad, either. You could see the current band playing and the crowd of fans cheering their hearts out.
"Do you want anything to drink? I can get us something if you want." They offer.
"Maybe just a soda." You reply.
"Alright. You don't mind if I have a drink or two, do you?" They ask.
You shake your head. They pat your head and lean down to give you a kiss to your forehead before walking off. In the mean time you remove your backpack and hug it close to your chest in case you needed quick access. You watch as different people walk up and down the stairs, sit down, mingle and talk to each other and you can't help but wonder what it must be like to have a life without debilitating anxiety.
"Well then... didn't expect to see you here." A familiar voice sounds from behind you, and your anxiety spikes.
Once she steps out into view your nerves relax again.
"Illari? You're a fan of rock music? Also, you look gorgeous!" You smile as your friend comes to greet you.
"I guess we never really talked about music much. I didn't expect you to like it, either." Illari returns your warm smile, except when she does it, it feels like genuine sunshine. "You also look great!"
"Aww man, who invited this nerd?" You hear Sloan joke as they return with a beer and your favorite soda. They sit next to you with a grin on their face.
Illari takes a seat on the opposite side of you. "You're the one to talk."
She's not great at returning insults, but she tries her best.
The three of you exchange casual conversation for a little while as the first band concludes their performance and the next one begins setting up. For a while all is well, and your heart is at peace.
"So– you didn't tell either of us you liked rock music Illari!"
"I do! I promise. I'm also on a date–"
"A WHAT?!" 
Illari giggles at Sloan's reaction. You have to admit you're also surprised.
"WITH WHO?!"
"Uh, with me?" A devious voice replies.
A beautiful girl approaches Illari and places a quick kiss to her lips.
"KIRIKO?! OH MY GOD!!!"
You've never met this girl before.
"We've been dating for a while. You just never noticed." Kiriko's eyes fall on to you. "Who's your date, then? I don't believe we've met."
Your hands grip your backpack even harder as the spotlight is metaphorically put on you.
"This is [Y/N]! I told you that I fixed their stuffie for them when all that... drama... happened."
"Oh! That's right. I'm really sorry that happened to you." Kiriko's face warms up after hearing your name. "I have a fox stuffie I made myself! I'd be happy to show you sometime!"
Illari stands up and Kiriko wraps her arm around her waist. "Well it was nice meeting you, [Y/N]! See you around sometime!"
You nod with a content look on your face. The pair wander back downstairs and disappear into the crowd. The music begins to play once again.
You turn towards your beloved and smile.
"I'm glad this is going better than expected." You admit, and the joy on Sloan's face is immense.
It was clear they loved seeing you enjoy yourself.
"And I'm glad you're having a good time, mi corazón."
The two of you enjoy your drinks in a comfortable silence before the song changes. A mosh pit almost immediately begins to form.
"OH! I gotta go join in–" They immediately stand up before the realization hits them. "Would you be fine if I went downstairs for a song or two? I promise I'll be back up here afterwards!" They grab your hands and beg.
You can feel your nerves activate at the thought of being left alone... but you didn't want to see your beloved disappointed.
"Okay. Just be careful!"
"I will be!" They head towards the stairs before turning back one last time. "I'll be back, I promise!"
Then you were truly alone. You clutch your backpack again before opening it for a fidget toy– a little button pressing mini game with cute sounds and visuals. It keeps your fingers and mind occupied for a small amount of time. More people continue to pass you by but you continue your game without looking up.
To your dismay, someone practically falls on to the couch next to you. The scent of alcohol assaults your senses and you attempt to ignore it.
Just mind your own business.
Just mind your own business.
Just mind your own business.
"Hey."
Oh no.
You look up from your fidget toy and your fidget toy session ends with a GAME OVER.
"Um, hi."
They're so drunk that they barely register your reply. You slide in the opposite direction of them when they're looking away from you. Your heart begins to pound and dread fills the entirety of your body. They turn back with a grin.
"You're pretty cute." Their words slur together.
"Oh! Uh, thanks." You fake a smile.
"How much?"
You thought you were hearing things, so you ask them to repeat the question.
"How. Much?" They hiccup.
"Oh! I'm sorry, I'm not who you're looking for–"
You start to get up before a hand grabs your hair. Pure, unadulterated terror fills your entire body and your nerves begin to sear in straight anxiety.
You knew it was a mistake to go out tonight. You knew it, and you went against your better judgement anyway.
"Hey! You didn't answer my question! How much? I can pay with whatever you want–"
"I'm sorry but I don't do that type of work!"
You wince and cry out in pain as they attempt to pull you back down.
"Hold on!"
Without any other choice you let out a scream to get other people's attention. All the heads on the second floor turn to see what's going on. Your hair is still being pulled on by a total stranger.
"Hey! Let them go, right now!" A tall, muscular girl shouts and makes her way over. A shorter, more petite girl follows behind.
"I'm recording right now! Let them go or we'll go to the police!" The shorter girl demands.
The drunk person finally lets go of your hair and you run as fast as you could with no direction in mind– but unknown to you, they begin to follow suit. A girl with spiky brown hair sticks her foot out and trips them after she lets you run past her.
You rush out the door and into the night with tears streaming down your face. You're heaving, screaming and running until you're lost and exhausted.
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"What's going on over here?" Someone in the crowd of the second floor asks.
"Can someone call the police? This person just assaulted someone!" Brigitte asks.
Security immediately arrives to escort the drunk person out from the venue.
"I got the whole thing on video." Hana places her burning hot phone in her back pocket. "Apparently in 4K and 60 FPS. My phone is on fire..."
"What about that poor person who ran? Are they okay? Should we go and look for them?" Lena suggests.
All three girls stare into the darkness of the night.
"Oh! Look! They left their bag!" Hana notices, walking over to it. "There's also two drinks. They obviously came here with someone."
She unzips your bag and digs through your stuff as carefully as possible. "That's not good. Their phones in here, and their medicine."
"Medicine? Do you know what it's for?" Brigitte asks.
Hana shakes her head.
"Oh! Angela might know!"
Lena takes a picture of your medicine and sends it directly to Angela– lovingly assigned the nickname "Dr. Mercy" in her phone.
🧡 AF Traysi ⏱️: Angela it's an emergency!!! (10:09 PM)
🧡 AF Traysi ⏱️: (Uploaded a photo at 10:10 PM.)
🧡 AF Traysi ⏱️: what is this pill? please respond asap!!! :((( (10:10 PM)
💛 Dr. Mercy 😇🪽: Lena, what's going on? (10:16 PM)
💛 Dr. Mercy 😇🪽: I'm not well versed in medication but I've seen those given to patients before surgery. It's an anxiety pill. (10:17 PM)
💛 Dr. Mercy 😇🪽: What in the world is happening? (10:17 PM)
🧡 AF Traysi ⏱️: no time to explain Angela!!! I promise it wasn't me though!!! (10:18 PM)
Another message from Angela pops up but Lena puts her phone back in her pocket.
"Angela said it was for anxiety."
"Well, we can't just let them wander the streets alone without their personal possessions, especially their medication... we have to at least try to find them." Brigitte adds.
"How do we even start? They could be anywhere by now!" Hana frowns.
All three girls look at each other in anticipation.
"Group chat?" Brigitte suggests.
"Group chat." Hana and Lena reply at the same time.
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✨🎶 LE SERAFFIM 4EVR 🪩✨
💖 AF BB 💪🏻: (Uploaded a photo at 10:20 PM.)
💝 AF Dazzle 💋: Alright lets see if this summons her (10:20 PM)
🦊 AF ✨✨: Huh??? That's [Y/N]s ID??? What's going on (10:21 PM)
🧡 AF Traysi ⏱️: Long story short we need to find this person before something else bad happens :( (10:21 PM)
👾: (Uploaded a photo at 10:23 PM.)
✨💜 JUNKRAT LE SSERAFIM STAN FOR LIFE 💜✨: huh (10:23 PM)
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"SO, DO WE TELL THEM OR NOT?" Illari yells at the top of her lungs.
Kiriko and Illari glance at Sloan absolutely losing it in the mosh pit.
"WE HAVE TO! IT'S [Y/N]!" Kiriko replies at the same volume.
She turns and begins to brave the overly excited crowd. After what feels like hours of swimming upstream she reaches up and clasps Sloan on the shoulder. Instantly she feels their fist slam directly into her eye and she yells out in pain. Sloan turns around and gasps.
"OH MY GOD, KIRIKO, ARE YOU OKAY? I'M SO SORRY!" 
Glowing blue petals float around her before she shakes her head to stabilize herself.
"THAT'S OKAY! MAGICAL FOX SPIRIT PROMOTES FAST HEALING!" She gets back to the important topic at hand. "LISTEN, [Y/N]–"
As soon as they hear your name they become dead serious. Unfortunately for Kiriko though, a massive wave of people separates the two of them and their conversation is cut short. She's forced back towards the entrance near Illari.
"WHAT DO WE DO NOW?" Illari asks.
"I HAVE AN IDEA BUT YOU'LL NEED TO TRUST ME!"
Before Illari can answer Kiriko begins a sequence of fast hand movements and more glowing blue petals begin to form inside the venue. People thought it was some sort of visual effect the band had planned on doing and grew wilder at the scene. A rush of wind courses inside the building as Kiriko's kitsune grants her the strength she needs to begin pushing people out the way, but is rightfully stopped by Illari before that happens.
"WE CAN'T JUST SHOVE PEOPLE, IT'LL START A MASSIVE FIGHT!" Illari pulls her back by her side.
"WHAT DO YOU SUGGEST, THEN?"
"LET ME SIT ON YOUR SHOULDERS!"
"THIS IS NO TIME FOR PIGGY BACK RIDES!"
"THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT!"
In the middle of the planning Sloan begins to fight their way out of the crowd to the best of their ability, but it feels nearly impossible to move forward when you're being pushed back by dozens of people.
That's when they feel it– the breeze... their eyes turn teal blue.
From the very back they can see Illari waving their arms frantically attempting to call them over.
They move through the crowd effortlessly.
Illari hops off Kiriko's shoulders once Sloan makes it safely to their position before the kitsune's rush wears off.
"WHAT'S GOING ON?" They ask.
"UPSTAIRS! NOW!" Illari replies.
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The group of six huddle together in the back as the atmosphere around the venue slowly turns back to normal. Sloan goes through your backpack just to make sure everything is still safe inside. Thankfully, all is left mostly untouched aside from Hana's search from earlier.
"Sombra sent us this picture. We're pretty sure they're only a few blocks away, but we still have to hurry or else they'll be gone by the time we get there." 
Brigitte hands their phone to Sloan.
"Oh God... I really shouldn't have left them on their own." Their tone is sullen and full of guilt, just like the look on their face.
"There's no time to blame yourself. We have to find [Y/N] before something else happens." Illari places a comforting hand on their shoulder.
They only nod.
"Okay. You, Kiriko and Sloan go one way. We'll go the other. The entire city is designed to lead back to the north. Don't ask me how I know that–" Brigitte starts to remember the struggle of trying to find this place, but there's no time for that. "If they are where we think they are then it should be easy to get to them from here. If not... then we'll plan something else when we get there. Let's just get going before we have to start planning again."
Nobody argues with that.
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"So, let me get this straight... you went to a music show–" Sombra begins counting on her fingers "Got assaulted by some random drunk person, ran, forgot all your stuff and now you're trying to find your way back?"
You nod while attempting to wipe your eyes dry. All of your smeared, ruined makeup had been rubbed off by now. A loud crack of thunder sounds in the distance announcing rain was on its way.
"Hm. Not the trickiest situation I've ever heard of..." Sombra then scoffs. "Definitely one of the funniest, though."
You crouch to your knees and began sobbing uncontrollably once again. "I'm going to die out here!" You shout, feeling totally helpless like a lost child in a grocery store.
Sombra watches as you begin having a genuine mental breakdown– does she actually feel bad, for once in her adult life...? Perhaps a little.
She pulls up a screen out of thin air and watches as the group of six people frantically searches for– what she's assuming is– this person in front of her. She raises an eyebrow as one of the colored dots on her screen comes close to her location but turns around at the very last moment.
"Wow." She comments as if she's watching a game. "These guys are hopeless."
"You're going to kill me, aren't you?" You accuse the girl in front of you with a real, sincere despair.
Sombra chokes back a laugh.
"No, I'm no murderer. Not yet, anyway." Now, she laughs. "I wouldn't waste my first kill on you, though."
You can't tell rather to feel insulted or relieved... so you go with relieved. It's not enough to stop your full on meltdown, however.
"Now, let's see. Oooh!" Sombra watches once again as one the dots come closer, only to make the same mistake of getting turned around. "Oh. They must be throwing. There's no way!"
Your crying becomes more intense. She sighs, closes the screen and rolls her eyes before hacking a nearby vending machine for two sodas. She walks over and proceeds to offer you one.
"Here. Don't tell anybody I did this, okay?"
It's your favorite soda.
"H-huh?" You take the soda with gratitude. "How'd you know?"
"It's my favorite, too."
You open the bottle cap and drink all of the fizzy contents inside. It feels refreshing to your scratched up and tired throat.
"Now stop crying." Sombra pulls up her tracking screen again. "Or at least be quieter. I can't hear myself think."
Out of fear for your life you do as the lady tells you, but not even a minute later...
"Ah. Finally. My work here is done."
You glance up only to notice the lady who helped you has completely disappeared.
"[Y/N]?" You hear Illari's voice in the distance. "[Y/N]!"
You stand up to greet her, but she nearly knocks you down with a charging hug.
"[Y/N]!" Kiriko follows suit, using her kitsune rush to pick you up and swing you around.
You're overwhelmed by the amount of attention you receive.
"Oh, sorry... maybe I shouldn't have done that."
You smile despite the anxiety. "It's okay."
"Hey! Good looking out, Illari!" The muscular girl you don't recognize runs up to you next. The petite girl isn't far behind, just like you saw them last.
There's two blinding flashes of blue light as another short, petite girl appears out of thin air. You thought she looked familiar... but there's no time to rack your brain right now.
"Oh, good! We all made it!" The petite girl– the one behind the muscular girl– cheers. "Wait, where's Sloan?"
You can hear loud, sprinting footsteps approach in the distance before everyone nearly gets knocked out of the way. "[Y/N]!!!"
They nearly knock you to the ground just as Illari had, only this time it was several times more intense. You feel their arms wrap around you in the tightest hug they've ever given you. You embrace them with relief flooding your tired brain. They hold the back of your head and nuzzle into your face as if they haven't seen you in years.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," They start crying. "Mi vida, I'm so, so sorry..."
"It's okay. I'm okay." You reassure them.
Everyone is quiet as the reunion takes place and you feel all the trauma of tonight drain from your being as you're held by the person who loves and cherishes you the most. Neither one of you wanted to be the one who pulls away.
"Well not to be a downer but it's about to start raining!" Someone spoke. It was the petite girl who flashed into existence.
"And I think the last band just got done with their set. It's nearly midnight." Kiriko adds with sadness.
"Well... while we're here, why don't we give [Y/N] back their stuff?"
Sloan pulls away long enough to grab your backpack from the muscular girl. "Thanks again, Brigitte."
You place it on to your back and all feels right in the world once more.
"No problem!" The muscular girl responds. So... her name is Brigitte.
"Well, we might as well introduce ourselves! I'm Hana!" The petite girl behind Brigitte chimes in. "Like the number one gamer in South Korea type Hana!"
"I'm Lena!" The girl who blinked into existence speaks up next. "Like the, umm... Tracer type Lena!"
That name rings a bell.
"Overwatch?" You question.
"Well, yes, but it's our off day today!" Lena replies.
"Wow." Is all you can say.
You feel your invisible mask beginning to slip. You're not sure how much longer you can take being out here before another anxiety episode occurs.
"I don't want to be rude, it's really nice to meet all of you." You turn to your beloved. "But... can we go home?" You ask, tired and ready to collapse.
"I think that would be the best idea for all of us. Tonight has been more than eventful!" Lena suggests.
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From the shadows, Sombra watches as the group disperses after exchanging goodbyes. As soon as she was alone she picks up the empty soda bottle you accidentally left behind and tosses it into the trash.
"Hmph."
"Going soft?"
She can hear a mocking male voice on the end of the coms.
"Not now, Mauga."
"Haha! Thought so."
She simply just sinks back into the darkness she came from without a word.
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✨💜JUNKRAT LE SSERAFIM STAN FOR LIFE 💜✨: so is anybody going to tell me what happened or am i going to have to make up the story myself (12:45 AM)
🧡 AF Traysi ⏱️: In the morning (12:52 AM)
✨💜 JUNKRAT LE SSERAFIM STAN FOR LIFE 💜✨: but it's morning in australia (12:52 AM)
🧡 AF Traysi ⏱️: Goodnight junkrat (12:53 AM)
👾: (is typing...)
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