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#not that it's bad reading whatever you want
a-b-riddle · 1 day
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Part 2
Can't stop thinking about reader finally cutting them loose.
For three days there was nothing but radio silence. In those three days you had told yourself that it was a grace period. Time for Simon to cool off and realize how much of a bastard he was for saying all those things he obviously didn't mean. Johnny coming back over with a bouquet of flowers and endless apologies and cuddles.
Simon didn't apologize for his harsh words.
Johnny didn't call you later, as promised.
For three days you jumped at every single notification, silently hoping it was one of them. Any of them.
But it wasn't.
And you, unfortunately, got the answer to the question you had been asking yourself for months.
Did they still want this?
The answer was clear.
You didn't let their unofficial dismissal get to you. You still had shit to do. A life to get on to. A book signing to go to.
Jesus.
A book signing. A book you wrote. A book that was being published and released the day of the expo. You weren't expecting a huge line because this was your debut novel, but with the help of some ARC readers who had took to social media, there had been a bit of a storm brewing.
You had listened to John when he had mentioned writing under an alias. Don't know how crazy people are out there. They'd do anything to get close to you, Dove. Just better to protect yourself where you can. You almost hated yourself for listening to him now. Now you would just have to keep writing under your pen name.
You were getting ready to close up shop early when your phone finally pinged.
Kyle.
Fuck.
Of course it was Kyle. The one who hadn't treated you like you were constantly bothering him. Not the one who made you feel guilty for agreeing to your arrangement. Nor was he the one who fucked you and left you. No. He was just the one who just wasn't there.
Maybe that was just as bad.
What are you up to today?
That was it. Almost two weeks of radio silence and that's all he had to say? It just added more evidence that you were making the right call in ending this now. It had already carried on for too long.
You had two things on your to-do list and you wouldn't let Kyle's sudden reappearance deter you.
E-mail the publisher back.
Change the locks.
You didn't have the strength to face them again. If they groveled, it would be too easy to take them back. One against four wasn't much of a fair fight. And if they didn't care to fight for you... you don't know if you could survive it. Coming face-to-face with the proof that it didn't bother them to give you up even though it was killing you.
No. Cutting it off completely was the best thing to do.
So you didn't respond.
You left Kyle's text unanswered as you e-mailed the publisher back that everything was set for your flight on tomorrow morning. You would spend Thursday adjusting to the time difference and Friday you would rest up before the expo this weekend. She assured you that you would need to rest up your writing hand. Whatever that means.
You left Kyle read as you closed up shop several hours earlier than usual. You needed to drop off the bank deposit before you started on task number two.
You didn't bothering responding to Johnny when he had texted you when you were leaving the hardware store, purchase in hand. Asking if you were free Friday. Promising dinner. 'In or out. Your choice.'
It was almost second nature when you got home to pull up your phone. Ready to text one of them to see which one of them could come over and help.
Fixing a leaky sink? Nothing Johnny hasn't seen before. Need help moving furniture? John won't mind when you change your several times on what should go where. Kyle would always come in with take out the moment you mentioned you were hungry and whenever you felt like going for a walk when it was a bit too late in the evening, Simon was the first to volunteer as your personal guard dog.
But asking them to come and change the very lock you planned on using to keep them out seemed... counter productive, if not downright petty.
You were almost done with the lock when your phone sounded off. Only this time it wasn't a text. Someone was calling you.
You almost faltered when John's name came on your screen.
Fuck.
That almost got you.
You almost answered it.
Almost.
You clicked on the 'Sorry, I can't talk right now. Options, before finishing up your work.
And just like that, you were done. No help needed. You had changed the lock. Even adding on a deadbolt. Replacing the flimsy chain Simon had taunted you about. If someone wanted to get in here, that wouldn't stop them.
Well, now you didn't need to hear it anymore.
Not that you would really hear it again...
Your flight was in twelve hours. Although that seemed an ample amount of time you hadn't even begun to pack. You had luckily narrowed your outfits down, but now was the task of folding it nicely into your suitcase rather than just stuffing it in there.
On my way. We need to talk.
It was too late for talking. Three days too late. Several months too late.
The last message sent was four weeks ago. A new Thai place had opened up close to your apartment that you were wanting to try. All of them had given you excuses.
Not my taste, Dove.
Cannae do it tonight. Next weekend? Next weekend didn't happen either.
I can do tomorrow. Kyle ended up bailing. You forget the excuse he used.
Simon hadn't even bothered to reply.
The final nail in the coffin of your relationship. Almost two years wasted with nothing, but a broken heart to show for it. And the worst part is, they had all chipped away at your heart, leaving you to deal with the final blow that would shatter it.
Im sorry. I can’t do this with you anymore. wish you all the best.
Your fingers made quick work in blocking their numbers. It was best. If they wanted to reach you, they couldn't. On the other side of the coin, if they didn't care to reply, you wouldn't spend countless hours crying over the fact that none of them had been affected the same way you had.
You would deal with getting them their belongings that they had left behind another time. You had big things, great things happening for you. You were cutting your loses. You were cutting them loose.
You just hoped you didn’t regret it.
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81folklore · 2 days
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i can do it with a broken heart - f1 grid
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parings: gn!driver!reader x platonic!f1!grid x ex!jacob elordi
summary: after yn and their ex break up, they carry on as best they can and no one had any idea how bad they were struggling
type: social media au (smau)
notes: george is in this but he does not drive for mercedes, yn does. i also used a mixture of fem and masc pictures because i couldnt decide and thought you could just imagine whatever you wish!!
notes 2: probably the longest fic ive done so far but im pretty proud of it. the time stamps above each section are semi important so i would keep an eye on them!! also i know ive been gone for so long but i do not promise ill be back. alsoooo i know i only included a bit of the grid but i kept getting distracted and then couldn’t figure out how to include everyone!!
masterlist
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march 2024
twitter
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charles oh my god i cant believe my cat is finally the pfp
i have been waiting for YEARS
max yes well you better enjoy it because it’ll change soon and you’ll be back to waiting again.
lando jesus max do you have to use punctuation???
alex be glad he doesnt use captials
oscar one thing at a time lando, we dont want to scare him
max ???
lando anyway
yn mate you ok?
yourname im fine? ur scaring me you never ask how i am
lando yeah but usually your not single
lewis oh no! you and jacob split?
yourname yeah, wasnt working anymore
charles ah im sorry, that must suck😣
yourname i mean it does but its been coming for a long time so its not surprising
fernando hello! yn what is wrong? you always use emotes!
yourname theyre emojis nando, and im fine just a bit lost
fernando do not worry, i will come and find you!
yourname no, i dont mean literally just..we were together for so long i dont really know what to do now you know?
lando i get it, you wanna play tarkov with me???
yourname cheers ill get on now
george let us know if you need anything!
may 2024
yourusername
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liked by mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton and 814,583 others
p✌️ was just what we needed this weekend!
thank you to everyone who came out and supported myself and the team and huge thank you to the team for working so hard all weekend⭐️
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mercedesamgf1 mega job this weekend yn👊 *liked by author*
landonorris nice to share the podium with you mate
yourusername same time next race?
user33 loved seeing you back on the podium
user2 absolutely smashing it this season
user21 more podiums please🤲 *liked by author*
user3 fourth podium of the year first p✌️*liked by author*
twitter
*pretend it says after march i changed dates around last min*
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august 2024
yourusername
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liked by lukehemmings, charles_leclerc and 1,124,642 others
did some reading, painting and writing
baked some good food and spent time with some good people, also got a cat…not bad for summer break☀️
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user66 AHHHHHH
yourusername ahhhhhhh
user26 cats name plsplspls
yourusername norman🐱
lukehemmings nice music👍
yourusername woah arent you the guy who wrote mum?!
mercedesamgf1 ready to see you back on the podium
yourusername always!!!!
user74 have you had funnnn??
yourusername yesss!! ive been doing lots of things i enjoy, basically treating every day as my birthday😋
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*was supposed to write them instead of her sorry!! was doing two stories at once and kept getting mixed up😅*
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october 2024
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liked by mercedesamgf1, gracieabrams and 1,291,638 others
p☝️ for the 3rd time this season, very very pleased
huuuuuge thank you to the team, every single one of you who worked tirelessly over the summer break and every moment since then, these have been for you⭐️
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user55 what a good season to be a yn fan *liked by author*
user6 these races have been incredible to watch, so proud
yourusername ⭐️⭐️
gracieabrams woop woop!!!!
yourusername 😝😝
user2 gracie??
user41 why have we not had any personal photo dumps yet😕😕
user88 right we miss seeing you yn!!
yourusername sorry guys😣ive been suuuper busy working on something i just honestly forgot
user41 NEW PROJECT?? WHEN?? (also pls dont feel bad we love u)
yourusername soon!! (and i love u guys too)
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november 2024
yourusername
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liked by taylorswift, lewishamilton and 3,689,921 others
tagged: taylorswift
i cannot believe i get to say this, but my new friend taylor just released a new album and i was able to write a song on the album
im honestly not sure how this came about but i had so much fun writing this and expressing all my thoughts and feelings in a way ive never done before
i poured my life and soul into this song and im so glad taylor is the one who is singing it and really bought it to life
send some love to my friend and go and stream THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT (most importantly i can do it with a broken heart😉)
comments have been limited
taylorswift thank you for trusting me with this song, so much love🤍
yourusername NO THANK YOU!!! i will be forever grateful⭐️⭐️
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yourusername added to their story
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seen by taylorswift, lewishamilton and 729,282 others
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charles i feel completely betrayed yn
fernando oh no😟! what did yn do?
charles THEY DIDNT TELL ME THEY WERE WRITING A SONG??
AND WITH TAYLOR SWIFT HOW COULD YOU☹️☹️
yourname sorry charles, surprise?!
charles ill forgive you because its a good song
yourname thank you my life just got infinitely better!
yuki very good song yn! has been on repeat☺️
yourname thanks yuki, glad you like it!!
lando I LOVE IT TOO
but seriously are you ok?!
yourname yeahhh im better now
was just a lot to navigate
lewis glad you found an outlet! but remember you can always talk to any of us
yourname i know and i appreciate it, i really do
alex yn was that twitter thread right?
yourname mate youre going to have to elaborate
alex user56tweetlink
yourname oh pretty much yeah
some things were changed with taylor but not much
fernando just listened to the song yn! very nice👍well done!
yourname thank uu
max good song yn!
now
lando can you please tell me what you meant on your twitch stream!
oscar max is kind of scary
max dont make me talk about that interview next oscar!
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dazednmatthews · 3 days
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number neighbor!matt x reader: semi face to face (part four point five)
the thrum of the facetime ring had y/n very rightfully shitting bricks.
it wasn’t that she was scared of matt, nor would she ever let him know what she really thought of him, but the thought of finally talking to him semi-face to face was something that sent a weird hum through her veins.
they’d been talking for close to three weeks now, annoying him becoming a quintessential part of her days. she wouldn’t admit it to him, but she liked matt. as a friend. he was funny, and despite what she constantly told him, he wasn’t boring at all. she would have stopped trying a long time ago if he was.
on the third ring, matt picks up. the lighting in his room is warm, pale yellow filling her screen. the motherfucker is laid in bed, shirtless of course, hair fluffy and curling into his eyes.
it makes her sick to her god damn stomach the way the silver chain sits on his collarbones. and the way she can see stubble aligning his jaw. and the way the blanket just barely covers his chest. she wants to hang up.
she’d lost her ability to speak suddenly, so when matt raises an eyebrow, she knows he’s about to start something with her. “hello?” he draws out the ‘o’. “are you going to say something or am i gonna talk to myself during this?”
it’s enough to snap her out of whatever the fuck trance he had her in. “it’s been twenty seven seconds and i already wanna hang up.”
he smirks slightly, “i think that’s a lie.”
“whatever,” she grumbles. “why don’t you have any clothes on? classless.”
“i have pants on. wanna see?” y/n holds her hand up to the camera, flipping her middle finger. matt laughs. it’s a nice laugh. oh fuck. “am i distracting you?”
“i will hang up if you start this shit again.”
“fine, fine.” matt sits up slightly, angling the camera more on his face. he leans forward, eyebrows furrowed. “let me see your room.”
y/n is sitting at her desk, avoiding open makeup bottles and random pens strewn about. she shrugs, flipping the camera. her room is filled to the brim with things. her walls are covered in posters; from her favorite horror movies and icons and just films in general to her favorite musicians. she even has a funny minion poster in the corner that her best friend got her for a gag gift. she loves it just the same though.
“other than that fucking minion poster,” matt rolls his eyes. “you kind of have good taste.”
she scoffs. “kind of? bye. my taste is impeccable.”
matt eyes the poster right next to her closet door. “you like mac miller?”
she nods fondly. “he’s one of my favorite artists.”
something in his voice changes. “me too.”
“you wanna be me so damn bad. it’s flattering.”
it’s matt’s turn to scoff. “i actually couldn’t think of anything worse.”
y/n ignores him, giving him the full tour. she shows him the extent of her cd collection, which he of course, has something to say about all the disney channel soundtracks. she simply states that, “good music knows no bounds. it’s not my fault shake it up had the best ghost writers.” and yeah, matt does laugh at that.
she shows him the various pieces of art her sister has drawn her, which he’s actually really loves. they bicker about whether or not astrology is real, again, when she shows him her crystal collection. predictably, it ends up with her calling him a bastard and him telling her she’s insane a thousand times.
when she gets to her book case, he looks surprised. “you read?” his eyes are scanning the screen. “those are all yours?”
y/n’s face twists at the borderline insult. “are you calling me fucking stupid or something?”
“no!” he sounds kind of frantic. “i didn’t mean it like that. i just meant i didn’t know you enjoyed books like that.”
she shrugs, flipping the camera back to her and sitting back at her desk. “there’s a lot you don’t know about me, matt.”
she pretends to find something interesting in her reflection, not seeing matt’s eyes turn slightly soft. “yeah. i see.”
when it’s his turn to show his room, y/n’s surprised at how clean it is. there’s a bed and a desk with a monitor, headphones next to the keyboard. his bed is big and looks comfy, dark red silk sheets on it. it makes something in her stomach flip. she tells it to shut the hell up.
she teases him for the few stuffed animals he has on his bed. “aww, matt. you big softie.”
“yeah, yeah, what the fuck ever. they’re cute.”
“mr. tough guy, making room on his bed for his plushies. adorable.”
“go to hell, y/n.”
there’s not really much else in there but a couple framed pictures, so it’s over pretty quick. and when it is, something weird happens. the two sit on the phone, for hours. they talk about any and everything, bicker about the same things and tell each other more about themselves. y/n learns that he has the cutest little dog named trevor, he also likes to read from time to time and that he’s obsessed with watching tv.
she tells him about her parents and how they aren’t as close anymore, her siblings and how she wishes she could see them more and that she has an unhealthy attachment to word searches.
it’s nice, she decides.
it only ends when there’s a bang at matt’s door, followed by it flinging open. “matt, can you take me to the gas station? i want twizzlers.” one of his brothers says.
the other one flops down next to him on his bed, poking matt in the stomach. “i need chips in my system, like now.”
matt closes his eyes and sighs. “you both are so fucking annoying.” he turns to the side. “i’m on the god damn phone.”
the middle one in that one picture matt sent, chris she thinks, pokes his head into the frame. “oh shit, is that the girl that you’ve been texting?”
the other triplet, nick, let’s out a laugh. “you mean the one he never shuts the fuck up about-“ and suddenly the audio is cut off and matt is out of his bed.
y/n is taken aback by the statement. matt talks about her to his brothers? she would definitely be putting that in her back pocket for later.
she watches matt leave his own room and hears the sound come back. “i’ve gotta go, y/n. they’ll only get more annoying and i don’t feel like cleaning up a crime scene if i kill them.”
she smiles in amusement. “that’s fine, i should probably finish my laundry anyway.”
there’s a moment of silence and then she can hear the smirk in his voice way before she sees it. “yeah i noticed. do you wash that pair of lacy black underwear on your floor on delicate or regu-“
“goodbye, matthew!”
her face heats up as she presses the end call button, cutting off his maniacal laughter.
as y/n sits in silence for a second after he’s gone, she wonders if matt felt the shift between them just as much as she did.
a/n: yes the inspo is the still of matt from the new tiktok cause that shit got me soooo bad. anyway hope you guys liked this!
TAGLIST:
@sturnioloco @peachmels @sugrhigh @rootbeerworshiper @hollandsangel @sturnolio-luvs @mattsobvimyfav @misscocodiorsblog @ilovechrisssturniolo @pepsiboyy @braindead4l @mxqdii @fawnchives @hearts4chriss @certifiednatelover @nmegamett20 @imaslut4kehlani @dominicfikue @wovenribbons @streamermattsgf @pr1ncessmatt @pinksturniolo @yourfavoritefangirl @nickmillersn1gf @freshxsturniolo @sturniolobltch @mattspolitank @lookingformyromeo @alorsxsturn @imwetforyourmom @kiarastromboli @sleepysturnss @mattscoquette @sturncakez
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angelsrcute · 1 day
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can you do the they catch you read something spicy with kaeya, xiao and alhaitham?
THEY CATCH YOU SEEING/READING SOMETHING SPICY. 𝜗𝜚
(´∀`*)ε` ) ౨ৎ N–sfw content !! ; Dom!Kaeya, Xiao, Alhaitham + Fem n M(Xiao's part)!Reader ➜ cws: Modern au, riding, spanking. ᡴꪫ‎
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꒰ঌ 𝐊𝐚𝐞𝐲𝐚 ໒꒱ — 🪦
He'd tease you about it so much I bet. He was working on a paper and saw you were focused on your phone. He got up, curious on what you were reading with so much focus that you're not doing the papers that are to be submitted tomorrow. You let out a shriek after noticing him behind you,
“Woah..are you into those type of things? interesting, Y/N. Why not try it, hm? given you're so red about it.” He coos, climbing on the couch, taking the phone away, “Welp, there goes our paper. Do think of the excuse we're gonna give.”
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꒰ঌ 𝐗𝐢𝐚𝐨 ໒꒱ — 🪦
He would be crazy blushing. He decided to go to your room to play games, but God damn, what the hell. You were watching hentai. And it wasn't some normal type too, fuck, how down bad were you?
“Dude, what the fuck are you doing?? yikes..”
Well this guy is fucked because you're already leading him to the bed, ass presented to you as his face faces the laptop. Let's just say Xiao couldn't walk the next day nor could he go out, especially with those visible ass bite marks.
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꒰ঌ 𝐀𝐥 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐦 ໒꒱ — 🪦
He'd be amused, but jealous too. God, what's the good about that fictional character when he's right there? the audacity! So here you are now, on top of him as you ride him, whining at how big he is. He'd spank your ass if you got too loud, reminding you that the neighbours would complain. Your cunt sucking his dick in, head all warm and fuzzy, eyes hazy. You had forgotten how many times you came, body shaking at this point.
“Why? Thought you wanted to be fucked stupid, reading that ‘overstimulation’ or whatever fanfiction. So, now be a little grateful.”
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lettersofalover · 2 days
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-> adore you | paige b
paige x black!fem!college!athlete reader
genre: fluff
authors note: she’s for the girls and yall go together. read bad
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from the moment you woke up in your hotel room next to paige until now, about to step on to the espy’s red carpet, you were anxious. you were a famous athlete in your own regard but the spotlight had never quite been on you the way it was now - helping team usa win gold, setting a personal record and a uconn record, all while being in a loving private relationship with paige. everyone knew but nobody told. the athletes at uconn had each others backs and without a doubt, paige had yours. she popped candy into her mouth mindlessly as you got your hair and makeup done in the chair. “when you get on stage, not if but when,” she said matter of factly, “there’s going to be a countdown. don’t pay it any mind. just say what you want. literally, whatever. except curse words, they’ll fine conn for that.”
you couldn’t help having paige’s voice echo through your head, somehow drowning out the noise of the photographers. it was already a sunny day in california and the size of lights made you struggle to keep your eyes open. paige was coming behind you and suddenly all the photographers focus was on the both of you. the speculation had always been there, but there wasn’t any concrete proof. paige shot you a big smile and an awkward thumbs up and you covered your mouth to laugh. the shouts of the photographers were so deafening you couldn’t make out what they were saying until paige approached you and locked her fingers with yours: “they want us to take photos together.” she whispered in your ear before dropping your hand. the moment her hand left yours, the comfort was lost.
“just focus on something in the distance.” she whispered and wrapped an arm around you gingerly. you leaned into her touch, thankful to have her by your side. the contrast of your outfits made for a subtle declaration of your relationship. as the moments passed of you switching between a wide smile and a soft one, paige stopped the photographers for a moment and stood in front of you.
“what?” you mumbled, scared that you had done something wrong. did you look too cozy? was it obvious that you were dating? you were beginning to breath harder as paige reached up to fix your hair.
“wait let me fix your hair.” she mumbled, with her eyes focused on your delicately designed hairstyle. she was taking the job of fixing you so seriously that she had her tongue slightly out of her mouth in the process. “i think i got it,” she said turning away but immediately turned back, “one last thing, hold on.” she smiled and twirled of on the curls around her finger and it immediately came back to life.
“good?” you asked and the flutter of lights and the shutters of cameras began again. paige grasped your forearms and nodded.
“you look stunning.” she said loud and proud before facing the photographers once more.
they didn’t sit you with paige and it depleted your spirit. you kept calm conversation with the people surrounding you - a few athletes, an executive board member from uconn and other old men who were keen on getting you to explain your tennis career and why you hadn’t gone professional yet.
“i love uconn, my family is there, my team is there, even my girl- my best friend is there.” you corrected yourself. they all nodded in understanding but one of the more assertive man said, “you know college is always there. you should go while you’re still in your prime. you can get the money and find a nice husband while you do so.” he sipped his champagne with a smile that was confident - as if he gave you the most precious bit of information to skyrocket your career.
“i didn’t come to school to get my mrs. degree.” your voice was laced with snark. men like him wanted nothing but money as their main objective. it was never about the passion. as if she could sense the solemn energy radiating off of you, paige walked to the table and began introducing herself. they fawned over her for a few minutes and you were able to still your beating heart for a few moments. once paige spoke them all, she made it to you and dropped onto the balls of her feet next to your chair.
“you’re up next, yeah?” she said, her glimmering eyes scanning your face. “remember: go at your own pace, don’t let them freak you out.” paige squeezed your hand three times, saying “i love you.” it was a code you two developed when you first started dating. it was a way to express the love you shared subtly.
“you got this.” she said as she rose to her feet and said her goodbyes.
“what a nice young lady.” one of the gentleman said, watching her walk away.
“she’s amazing.” you agreed as the lights dimmed and the first presenter walked to the stage.
you couldn’t believe it was you who won national women’s college athlete of the year. you couldn’t move from your seat for a long while, hands covering your face ready to swipe the tears that were pouring down your perfectly made up face. you stood from your seat and held the bottom of your dress, walking slowly and as steady as you could. the yelling behind you was a roar of applause and shouts of your name from your fellow uconn student athletes and the loudest of them - was your girlfriend, paige. you stood at the stairs for a moment, unsure of your balance in the heels that adorned your feet. before you knew it, paige’s hand was in yours, helping you up the steps. she squeezed your hand three times and you smiled at her once you finally made it on stage. she shot you another cheesy thumbs up and the audience laughed.
the microphone was louder than you expected as you loosed a breath. your eyes scoped the audience, looking for that familiar face. everyone was in their seats, except paige. she was recording you and your acceptance speech and it was adorable.
“gosh,” you said looking down at the trophy before back up, “i don’t even know where to begin. i never thought my journey as an athlete would bring me to this moment. i was just a little girl years ago, watching uconn athletes and dreaming to be where they were. to stand alongside the greats and be in the arena where they existed. i never, ever,” you sniffled and wiped at your tears, “expected to be a part of uconn the way that i am now. i never knew love like this existed until uconn became my life. i have a thank you list that’s a mile long - so i’ll spare you all,” you laughed and the audience followed, “there are not enough words to describe the family and love i found while being an athlete at uconn. to my people, i love you and to my girlfriend, i adore you. thank you for believing in me and thank you for all those tough training sessions where you kicked my ass - it got me this trophy!.” you laughed and the crowd erupted in applause once more and you could’ve sworn that your girlfriend paige, was the loudest.
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paigebueckers: after party with my girl, my national women’s college athlete of the year. she learned it all from me. so proud of her.
kkarnold: she’s really that girl
azzifudd: the dress is stunning just like her
paigefan1: so happy for yall 🥺
paigefan2: my heart, i cannot take it anymore
paigefan3: she’s so in love with her and i love it
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11cupid-tarot11 · 3 days
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How would your future spouse treat you on your moon cycle? <3
I was having such bad cramps when this question suddenly hit me and I figured we'd all love to know, right? Even though I get very cranky and like to be alone during my time of the month hehe.
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Pile 1- Wheel of fortune, queen of wands, queen of swords.
So this person will literally try to pamper you, whatever that may look like for you. I'm hearing they'll respect all of your boundaries and will grant all of your wishes, they're very supportive. I'm hearing they don't like seeing you in pain and they understand how uncomfortable this time frame is for you.
I think this person is naturally caring and easily can read human emotions and they're giving therapists vibes tbh like they could work in that field or maybe for some I'm picking up on massage therapists, this person just seems like they know humans enough like maybe they studied it or it could just means they've studied you so well they know what you need (I said 'want' at first but was directed to switch it to 'need'. Someone's fs here likes being in charge lol) . Either way, I think they'd love to be your massage therapist around this time. I'm hearing anything to make you feel good.
THEY WILL LITERALLY TREAT YOU LIKE A QUEEN, pamper you, spoil you.
I'm hearing for some, around your moon cycle you get mood swings maybe? Your entire energy changes enough for this person to catch on and they'll know before/when you're on your period because of this. Maybe you're usually very chill and calm and around this time you're just more cranky than usual like me lol and your person will try very hard to just make sure your okay and not taking their head off? Lol, the way your person talks is very funny, they're very funny and so so sweet!
I think this person will treat you so well simply because they love you, you're their baby and they respect you so much. You're literally their queen. They love you so so much 😍 they want me to leave this rose emoji for you 🌹 (I think they're very giving, it's just in their nature 😭)
Other messages- my sweet girl, lots of chocolate and warm towels, hugs and I'm picking up on those who would rather be left alone for moments at a time they understand, they'll check up on you occasionally and will still be very affectionate (u can't refuse their hugs I'm hearing no escape lol 🤣😭 they're very cute. I think they like compliments? They might blush and smile a lot?) The type to randomly kiss ur forehead or cheek when ur literally just ✨chillin✨ just because.
Let me know how it resonates in the comments below! Leave a suggestion for the next pick a pile!
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Pile 2- Ace of swords, temperance, the fool and the hermit.
So I think this person actually doesn't know much about a women's cycle, I think for a specific few they're the only child or maybe they just didn't grow up around a lot of feminine energy so this just isn't their field but I'm hearing they'd try damn hard to make sure everything's okay!
They'd follow your lead on this, like they prefer to maybe watch you from afar during this time? Like sometimes they don't know if they should bother or if they could help at all so they'll probably just straight up ask if there's anything they can do. This person isn't immature about it, but they do feel a bit awkward during those days? (I'm actually dying at ur person, they hardly know how to describe anything?)
Okay, for example, say you're having very bad stomach cramps and you've been in bed all day complaining, they would probably let you stay in bed as long as you'd like and would peek their head in the doorway to silently check up on you because they don't know if they should disturb you or not.
I think they'd love it if you just told them or ask for anything you need, I think they'd rather you rest and use them as a servant 😜 (ur person wanted me to add that, they felt very serious until now? I'm dying) until you feel better, they'll try different approaches tho, I don't think it'll always be this awkward. I think when you two have been together for awhile they'll pick up. I think then they'd mix up their own home remedies, and their own strategies by now, they're not very specific on what this could be or what it could look like because I think this person doesn't really want you to know?
They really want you to feel cared for and like they're there for you as much as possible so they're constantly thinking of new ideas for you!
This is not an 18+ reading and take it how it resonates but I think a very selective few wouldn't mind having intercourse on their moon cycle? 👀
Let me know how it resonates in the comments below! Leave a suggestion for the next pick a pile!
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Pile 3- Death, Ace of coins, The tower, Page of wands
This pile feels different, I was getting the energy of your person being shy and excited to have their turn for the reading 🤣 maybe this person isn't someone who you see romantically at first, could be a roommate a friend but you do know this person or they will come into your life at some point and you guys will have some kind of friendship from the start. It's giving secret admirer tho.
With the death card I'm thinking y'all could've just made it official, it feels like this is something new to them. Maybe it makes them feel a step closer to you? They think it's very cool you're trusting them enough at a time like this. They really value it.
I think they'll be the type to really go all in, ask you probably 20x a day "What do you need?" I saw that scene from Aladdin, when the genie is explaining how tired he is of being in the lamp and he's like "What do you need?Poof! What do you need? Poof!"
This person is trying to charm you and maybe show you they really care for you by doing this, I'm hearing 365 days a year they'll be like this tho, not only when you're on your moon cycle. I think they want you to be vulnerable with them or can't wait to see more vulnerable sides of you.
Let me know how it resonates in the comments below! Leave a suggestion for the next pick a pile!
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Pile 4- The moon, Kight of coins, Temperance, Kight of swords.
My pile 4's energy is different, I think this person could be older than you? This person overall isn't someone who's very cuddly or could even be very hard to read so moments like these really show that side of them in their own way?
For example, say you ran out of pads but your stomach hurts too bad to go get them yourself, your person wouldn't be thrilled to shop in the women's section but for YOU they will, they'll go get your pads and make sure they're the right size and everything (I'm hearing he'll literally call you and ask what size he should get).
They're very serious when it comes to you, they have dedication and it shows in the oddest ways possible.
So for your time of the month they'd be very chill about, the other piles felt all jittery and nervous like they were scared to mess up but your person is smart, he'll break down those walls for you, if you just want to cuddle in bed they'll hold you as long as you like. I'm hearing they're actually kind of "softer" at the right times (I'm sorry I can't think of a better word right now)
You'll love how this person will treat you and your needs and I'm hearing symptoms as well, they're very comfortable and reliable. He's like your big giant teddy bear! 🧸
Let me know how it resonates in the comments below! Leave a suggestion for the next pick a pile!
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feelbokkie · 2 days
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i'll be here for you
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☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️
genre: sick fic, angst
pov: 2nd person
description: Seungmin can tell instantly from your voice that something is wrong, so he drops everything to take care of you.
pairing: bf!seungmin x gn!reader
warnings: hospitals, swearing, mentioning of food and eating, open ending, talking about weight, reference to death
word count: 3,054
a/n: allow me to be self indulgent and dramatic and over exaggerate for a moment.
©feelbokkie (2024) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.
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Mong, mong. Mong, mong. 
You sluggishly pull your phone out of your pocket, sitting as you do so. You let out a long, shaky sigh before plastering on a smile and answering the phone. You’re not sure why. It’s not like he can see your face through the phone. But maybe smiling will trick the rest of your body into thinking everything is okay.
“My Seungminnie!” You cheer into the phone, your face winces in pain from the sudden movement.
“Hi Y/n,” You can picture the small smile that’s slowly creeping onto his face vividly. “Did you just get home?”
“No,” you lean your back against your headrest. “I got home earlier than I thought I would. I read the end time on my schedule wrong.”
You can hear the chaos in the background. Changbin’s voice booms over everyone as he yells about something to do with Minho and Hyunjin. You can make out Felix’s faint laughter too. “You should’ve called me.”
“I didn’t want to interrupt practice. If I called you, you would have worried. How’s dance practice?”
“Hmm, Minho hyung has glared at Chan hyung twice, put Hyunjin in a headlock, and threatened all of us with various cooking styles about six times. He’s going to be sending me to you as soup.”
“Soupmin doesn’t sound too bad. Tell him to send side dishes,”
“Speaking of which, did you have a good lunch today?”
“I did,” You lie. “What about you? Did Minho let you eat or is he punishing you guys for not picking up the choreography?”
“We nailed 2 songs so he treated us. I had kimchi-jjigae!”
“You’re going to turn into kimchi-jjigae at this rate. You had it almost every day this week.”
“You just said you’d like Soupmin! ...Ugh, hyung, get off,” you hear a loud slap and some more laughter through the phone. The background laughter and chatter quickly becomes distant. “Sorry, Chan hyung lives in my bubble. What did you have for lunch?”
Click!
You assume that Seungmin had enough of whatever is going on in the practice room and left to talk to you somewhere peaceful. “Just some leftovers... I had some rice from dinner a couple of days ago so I make kimchi fried rice with some chicken.”
Seungmin is quiet on the other end for a second, “What did you really have?”
“I just told you,” You sit up, shifting your phone to your other hand and pressing it against your ear again.
“You’re hiding something. A couple of days ago you said you had pasta. What did you have for lunch today?”
“Kimchi—“ You double down.
Seungmin lets out a loud sigh, “This is a silly thing to lie about. You know that, right?”
“I’m not—“ You pause as the pain in your stomach reminds you that it's still there. “Fine, I just had some soda for lunch.”
“That’s all?”
“I told you, I wasn’t working as long as I thought—“
“You’re not eating properly and I can tell by your voice that you aren’t sleeping properly... Are you sick?”
“Probably,” You give up. When Seungmin has his mind set on something, it's difficult to argue with him.
“What do you mean ‘probably?’”
You bite your lower lip and run your free hand through your hair. “It’s nothing,”
“What’s going on?” It's subtle, the way his voice wavers with worry. If you weren't tuned into most of his habits, you would have missed it.
“Seungmin—“ You try to say calmly, wincing in pain as you lean back down against your headrest.
“Don’t try to lie or play it off. Something is wrong,” His voice raises an octave. You're not sure you can remember the last time he even slightly raised his voice at you. Even in a joking manner.
“…Fine." You squeeze your eyes shut, your current position only worsening your pain. "I just haven’t been feeling well lately.”
“What do you mean?”
You pause, contemplating how much you actually want to tell him right now. “My stomach gets upset. It’s fine though, probably just a bug.”
“And it’s causing you to not eat or sleep?”
“It only hurts after I eat. Well, it hurts in general now but if I eat it hurts a lot. Except for pho for some reason. But I can’t eat that all day every day,” You try to sound light and calm so that he doesn't worry more than he already is.
“You said 'now.' How long has it been hurting?”
“A while,” You mumble, playing with the hem of your shirt.
There's more movement in the background. You hear a faint scoff before you hear Seungmin huff as he presses the phone to his ear again.
“Have you gone to your doctor?”
“I called. They can’t see me until next month. But they said they’ll call me if a closer appointment comes.”
“Urgent care?” He suggests.
“They’ll just have me sit in the waiting room for hours and then spend 5 minutes with me before prescribing me antibiotics. Which is good and all but I know that's going to do fuck all if I can't even eat with the pills.”
“If it’s that bad, they’ll prescribe you something else.”
“Unlikely,”
You can practically hear the gears turning in Seungmin's head on the other end while he tries to come up with another solution for you. You're almost certain he's come up with all the same solutions that you have, none with promising enough results.
“What about the emergency room?" He tries again.
“For a stomach bug?” You chuckle, holding your stomach to attempt to control the apparent throbbing your stomach.
“A stomach bug wouldn't last that long. And you're not eating or sleeping. I don't know what else to do." His voice cracks. He's not trying to mask the panic in his voice for your sake anymore. He sounds as scared as you feel inside.
You squeeze your eyes shut again and rub your free hand over it. "Let's say I agree with you taking me to the emergency room. We'll still be there for hours--"
"I'm a pro idol. Plus my mom is a doctor,"
You've never known Seungmin to abuse his privilege as an idol, even at times when he should have. Especially when he should have. The fact that he's even insinuating that he'll use that part of his life if it'll help you is both heartwarming and intimidating.
"Don't involve your mom in this--Look, it's fine. I'm fine."
"It's not--" You hear Seungmin mumble a string of swear words that you're not sure you've heard him utter before.
"Seungmin? Hello?"
The background noise starts up again. This time, you hear Jisung scream singing loudly in the background as Hyunjin laughs. You hear some rustling in the background and finally a zipper. You pick up Chan's concerned voice, low and deep as chaos ensues in the background. You hear Seungmin tell him that he has to go, 'a family emergency' he explains. And then you hear Minho's soft voice as the noise in the background dies down. And then more rustling and zippers before the faint yet familiar jingling of keys.
"Seungmin!" You call out again, hoping he can hear you now that the room is quieter.
You hear a faint, 'one second' from Seungmin before he clears his throat, "I'll be there in about 20 minutes. Get your stuff ready."
Click
He hangs up before you can even try to argue with him that he doesn't need to leave practice to check on you. You let out a long shakey breath as you toss your phone on the bed and let yourself slump over from frustration.
***
"I can't believe you called your mom," You mutter under your breath.
Your arms rest firmly across your chest as you sit up on the examination bed in the emergency room. Seungmin sits at the foot of the bed, watching your every move. Like you would try to bolt if his eyes left you for even a second. You've thought about it.
"If you saw how pale you looked, you would have done the same thing. What did you want me to do?"
He looks so unlike himself. This is the first time you've seen him so disheveled, even after a dance practice. His usually neat hair points in all different directions from him running his hands through it. His windbreaker is zipped all the way up to hide his wrinkly, sweaty t-shirt. His face is darker than it normally is, showcasing whatever is running through his mind.
"Not call your mom!" You whisper. The emergency room beds don't offer you much privacy, only a curtain separating you from other beds. There's been a man screaming in pain in one of the makeshift rooms since you walked in. "I told you specifically not to,"
The sterile stench and bright lights from the room are starting to make your head spin. You feel bad taking up a bed when you know some people need to be examined more than you.
"I'm sorry but if you saw me in the state you're in, trust me, you would be calling anyone who could help. You lost a lot of weight too. I don't think I can even pinch your cheeks without it hurting you."
"You're overreacting," You scoff, rolling your eyes.
"You look like a sickly Victorian child,"
"Seung--"
Swoosh
Seungmin quietly gets up from his spot on the bed and stands next to you, resting his hand on your shoulder. Your doctor from earlier walks back in, nurse behind him this time. Her forced smile does nothing to distract from the dark bags under her eyes. You can tell how exhausted she is just by looking at her. She looks how your brain feels.
"I just finished talking with my attending. We both agree that you may have an ulcer. However, we cannot be sure without further testing. You have a few options but we recommend..."
You started to zone out, relieved that their first suspicion is an ulcer and not something more serious. An ulcer is treatable and the fatality rate is relatively low, based on what you read when you first started feeling sick.
"...admit you."
"Excuse me?" You tilt your head to the side, confused about what you just heard. You feel Seungmin's grip on your shoulder tightens, nails practically digging into your shoulder.
"Like I said, we do have a few other concerns so we believe it's best to admit you while we run a few more tests to be certain." The doctor repeats.
"But you just said that it's most likely an ulcer." You uncross your arms, your hand instinctively reacting for Seungmin. He grabs your hand with his free hand, refusing to let go of your shoulder.
"Yes, but some of the symptoms you're experiencing also align with other ailments so we would like to admit you for a couple of days while we do thorough tests," she explains, flipping through the papers on her clipboard.
You turn to Seungmin, whose face is clamped shut and eyes are fixed on the doctor. He's been doing well, keeping his composure for your sake, but now he looks as pale as you probably do. You try to focus your breathing so that maybe, just maybe, your heart will stop threatening to pound out of your chest. If it does, however, you're in the perfect place.
Seungmin's hand slides down from your shoulder to your back, rubbing soothing circles as he continues to talk to the doctor. You can't hear what he and the doctor are talking about, your ears are acutely aware of the swooshing of the blood from your heart.
You wanted it to be nothing. It's one of the main reasons why you put it off so long, playing it off as common stomach issues so you wouldn't have to go to the doctors and have them find something wrong with you. But it's inevitable now. There is something.
"It'll be okay," Seungmin whispers. Normally, you can read him like a book, but right now, you can't tell if he's reassuring you or himself.
~~~
You stare at the words on your phone, absorbing none of them as music plays loudly from Seungmin's headphones. You can't even register what song is playing right now, your mind too full with thousands of thoughts plaguing every quiet second you have.
Seungmin left you his headphones and phone charger before he left to get you some things from home. He stayed a while, being a quiet yet comforting presence while you got admitted. He sat, holding your hand as a nurse drew your blood, humming softly to distract you for a little bit.
He didn't want to leave. Not at first, but the two of you quickly realized that you couldn't ask anyone to get what you needed from your apartment. Seungmin has the only remaining key and you argued that it would be too much to ask one of the boys to come to the hospital to pick it up, get what you need from your room, and then come back to the hospital. So Seungmin went himself.
You were put into a private room, which you know is probably Seungmin's doing, but right now, you would prefer to be in a shared room. Just for the comfort of knowing that you're not the only person in the room.
Hot tears roll down your face, as your mind plays all the worse possible scenarios like a movie. You can't skip it, each scene is worse than the first, stressing you out more. You rest your head on the TV tray, trying to get your body to stop shaking and the images from popping into your head.
"Y/n?" You feel the cool air rushing to your ears and Seungmin's panicked voice, "What's wrong? Are you in pain?"
He sets down the bags in the chair next to your bed and tries to get you to lift your head so he can see your face.
"N-no. I mean, yeah it hurts, but that's not why I'm crying." You whimper, lifting your head and looking at Seungmin through tears.
You can't see it, how red and swollen Seungmin's eyes are. Even if you did, you know he'd tell you a little white lie about allergies. You hate how this is affecting him. It's one of the reasons why you didn't tell him in the first place. Because you knew he wouldn't be able to do anything to help, no matter how much he wanted to. You don't even want to think how badly he'll suffer if it's something serious.
"It's okay to be scared," Seungmin whispers. The remainder of the sentence lingers in the air between the two of you. Unspoken but understood.
It's okay to be scared. I am too.
"What if it's something serious? And I waited too long and,"
Another unfinished sentence that doesn't need to be completed for the two of you to understand, this one heavier than the last. Its weight quickly soaking up all the oxygen and light in the room, making it hard to breathe. Or maybe it's whatever has been slowly killing you from the inside finally putting you out of your misery.
"Maybe it's a parasite," Seungmin suggests, his normally steady voice breaking. You finally look up to face your boyfriend. You're bet with the top of his head as he's turned away from you, looking at the ceiling. His hair is neater than it was before, still slightly wet. He's now wearing a light grey hoodie with matching sweatpants.
"That's disgusting," You sniffle, a smile smile appearing on your face.
Seungmin, still not looking at you, lets out a loud and long sigh. "But you're smiling, right?"
"Because you're an idiot,"
"A smile is a smile. I'll take it."
Seungmin tilts his head down and rubs his sleeve-covered hands over his face before turning his attention to you. His eyes are glassy and red. Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach at the sight of him.
"It'll be okay," You whisper, taking Seungmin's hand in yours. It's more for your comfort than his.
"Whatever it is, I'll be here. Okay?" Seungmin says loudly, squeezing your hand tightly. "So lay your burdens on me,"
"I can't ask you to do that. You're getting ready for a comeback--"
"You think I would be able to focus on that if you're...if something is wrong with you?"
"I've seen you seen you separate Kim Seungmin the idol from Kim Seungmin my boyfriend."
"Yeah, when we're having a fight or something. But not for things like this. I already talked to Chan hyung. I didn't tell him everything, but he understands that you need me right now."
"Seungmin..." Your voice falters, any argument you could think of dies in your throat.
But he's right, you do need him. You've been shouldering the burden of your pain alone for too long, you're not sure how much longer you can last. He was gone for one hour and you completely fell apart. And that was just at the thought that it might be something serious.
"I have to call my parents," You breathe, calming down a little bit.
"I can help you with that," Seungmin replies softly.
"And I need to let my boss know I can't come in."
"I'll help with that too,"
"...But right now, I kinda just want to lay down with you,"
"I can do that too," Seungmin gently climbs into the hospital bed next to you, carefully watching the IV in your hand.
Once he's settled, he pulls your head down onto his chest. You freeze for a moment. It's not usual for Seungmin to initiate physical contact like this. Especially when a nurse can walk in at any moment. But the slight tremble of his body and the pounding in his chest let you know that he probably needs this more than you, so you relax into his touch.
"I love you, Y/n," He mumbles out, just like he did the first time he said it.
"I love you too, Seungmin," You breathe into his chest, gripping the fabric of his hoodie.
"I'm here," He says loudly this time. "It'll be okay,"
"I know,"
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leclerc-hs · 18 hours
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tachycardia pt.2 - cl16
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pairing: doctor!charles leclerc x nurse!reader (alpha/omega au) summary: in which you don't always get along with the arrogant alpha doctor warnings: LIGHT a/b/o dynamics, angst??, none really (yet!), badly translated French (didn't really put french in this), NOT PROOFREAD word count: 1.5k author's note: hi!!!!!! did you miss me??? I missed all of you! sorry this is SO short but I wanted to post something in honor of reaching 2,000 FOLLOWERS!!! I love u all sm and I'm sorry this is kinda shit. I've been in a really bad writing funk recently but I'm hoping to get out of it. don’t forget to talk to me and don’t be shy I love to hear from all of you!!!! I will try to get the ball rolling on this series as soon as I can. I just kinda started it without even knowing where I wanted it to go so I'm kinda just winging it as I write with whatever comes to mind. if you have anything you would like to see happen in this series PLEASE don’t be shy and let me know I love to hear your thoughts and ideas!!!! xoxo taglist: @amalialeclerc @barcelonaloverf1life @charizznorizz @magicpancake @zabwlky1999
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
AS YOU SIT across from your younger sister in the cozy confines of the café adjacent to the bustling hospital, you can’t help but marvel at the enigmatic workings of her mind.
“Is it really like that? Sex in the on-call rooms?” The question bursts forth accompanied by a hearty laugh, your body leaning forward in laughter. 
“How many times do I have to tell you no?”  You retort, meeting her gaze with an air of firmness amidst the playful banter. 
“What about in the locker room?” She presses further, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
“No, and stop indulging in such ludicrous fantasies.” You respond, bringing your cup of coffee to your mouth, you pause before taking a sip. “You know well enough that I don’t engage in relationships with doctors.” A fleeting sense of contentment washes over you with the warmth of the coffee. 
She emits a deep sigh, deeply annoyed. “Are any of them at least cute?”
You feel your stomach churn as the image of Doctor Leclerc floods your thoughts. He’s far more than just attractive. You hesitate for a beat, staring at her wide, expectant eyes. “Yes.”
Her eyes light up almost instantly. “Who?”
“I forget. I don’t really know him.” Liar.
“What does he look like?”
“Brown hair. Very green eyes.” Your fingers twiddle with the napkin on the table, feigning disinterest.
She gives you a skeptical look as if she can read your mind and tell you’re lying. But she doesn’t push further. “When do you have to be back?”
You briefly glance at the time on the screen of your phone, “Shit.” Rising abruptly, you shove the chair back with a jolt, shooting your sister an apologetic glance. “I have to go. I’ll see you at mom’s this weekend?”
You’re already pushing the front door of the café open by the time you hear your sister half-shout, “Yes!”
-
You burst into your patient’s room, breaths coming in ragged gasps, cheeks flushed with exertion. You say a silent prayer to whatever higher power that he wasn’t here yet. 
“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” 
Did you mention that this particular patient has a knack for hitting on you?
Your heart skips a beat, and if it weren’t for the already flushed hue of your cheeks, you’re certain the blush creeping up on your neck would be glaringly obvious.
“Mr.,” You pause to glance at the chart to double-check his name, “Mr. Hart, how are you feeling today?”
“Meilleur, now that you’re here.” Better. You curl your lips upward into a soft smile, jokingly rolling your eyes at his antics.
“Surely you’re sick of seeing my face, Mr. Hart.” You quip, reaching for a stool beside his bed while simultaneously checking his IV bags. “Today’s the day I think!”
Mr. Hart has been in the hospital for over a week, recovering from a surgery for a atrial septal defect.  
“Jamais.” Never. He insists, his head sinking back against the pillow as his gaze follows your every movement. “I’m so close to being able to ask you out properly.”
In that moment, a new scent permeates the air, distinct and alluring. Without even turning around, you sense his presence—the man who just breezed in behind you. Whether he heard the exchange or not, you weren’t sure, but the subtle shift in the atmosphere is palpable regardless.
“Mr. Hart,” His voice, deep and honeyed, washes over you, almost too sweet to be genuine. “Still stirring up trouble for our lovely nurses?” Despite the playful tone, you can sense an undercurrent of something morecalculated beneath his words. His presence radiates warmth, his tall figure looming beside you, close enough to make your skin prickle with awareness. 
“No,” Mr. Hart grins. “Just her.”
Doctor Leclerc’s smile remains fixed, but you catch the subtle clench of his jaw as you turn your head to meet his gaze. “Just stopping by to let you know that we might need to keep you for another night.”
The news catches you off guard; you were under the impression that Mr. Hart would be discharged by the end of the day. As if he could sense the questions brewing in your mind, Doctor Leclerc continues, his voice reassuring. “Just a precautionary measure. I assure you; we’ll have you cleared to leave bright and early tomorrow morning.”
Mr. Hart hums nonchalantly, as if the prospect of another night in the hospital doesn’t bother him in the slightest. His attention remains fixated on you as you inspect the sutures on his chest, his fingertips grazing against your gloved hand with a deliberate touch. “Can’t complain as long as she’s the one checking on me.”
You let out a small laugh, but don’t say anything, as you stand up and remove the gloves to toss them in the waste bin nearby.  
“Mr. Hart,” Doctor Leclerc’s voice is unamused now. “You would be wise to refrain your hands from touching her again. Next time I won’t ask so politely.”
-
Pressed against a wall while in the presence of Doctor Leclerc seems to be a common occurrence nowadays. His tall frame blocking any potential onlookers from seeing who he had cornered.
“Dis-moi,” Tell me. His voice is low, lethal. “Do you flirt with patients often, hm?” 
“What is your problem?” You quip, your brows furrowed as you crane your neck back to look him in the eyes. 
“My problem?” He scoffs, leaning closer to your face, his lips thinned in annoyance. “My problem is that I have to stand there and watch a patient flirt with you,” He clicks his tongue in frustration, turning his head to look away for a brief moment. Giving you a moment, to take in the sharpness of his jawline, and the unshaven scruff that shadows it. “And you…” His voice trailed off.
“And I, what?” You pulled your lips into a slight frown.
“You smell like that,” His hands wavered around your body, in an exasperated manner.
“Smell like what?” 
As he shook his head in disbelief, a mixture of frustration and something deeper etched acoss his features. The disbelief seemed to stem from his inability to fathom that you were completely unaware of something soevident to him. It was that scent, the sweet floral scent that always accompanied you. It drove him mad sometimes. How it was almost the only thing he could focus on sometimes.
With a disapproving click of his tongue, he took a deliberate step back, as if needed physical distance to collect his thoughts.
Ignoring your inquiry, his gaze softened, the intensity in his eyes giving way to a gentler expression as they locked on yours.
Caught off guard by the swift change in his demeanor, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of whiplash from the abrupt shift.
“I wouldn’t say often,” you began, punctuating the order with a slight shrug. “It’s all harmless.”
His response was solemn, his voice carrying a weight of protectiveness that left no room for misinterpretation. “I don’t want them to put their hands on you ever again,” he declared firmly. “If you ever have issues, you can come to me.”
His words resonated with a gravity that made it clear he meant every syllable, his stance unwavering in its determination to shield you from harm.
Your throat tightened as you swallowed, acutely aware of the intensity in his gaze tracing the delicate curve of your neck.
“Moving forward, I will be the one to check on Mr. Hart,” he announced, his voice carrying a note of authority softened by a touch of concern.
With a deliberate motion, he extended his arm, his fingers brushing against your skin as he gently tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear.
The proximity of his touch sent a rush of warmth to your cheeks, the tenderness in his gesture catching you off guard, yet somehow soothing in its unexpectedness. Dr. Leclerc’s presence seemed to envelop you whenever he was near. As if nothing else in the world existed no matter the premise of the discussion, including the constant bickering you two always seemed to do.
“Will you be at James’ retirement party?” The question slipped from your lips before you could fully weigh its significance. Yet, deep down, you knew the answer matters more to you than you cared to admit. You found yourself wanting him to be there, though the reasons remained elusive, even to yourself.
Yes, he was an ass to you most of the time. But, for some reason you couldn’t really fathom, he was always in the forefront of your mind.
His head tilted slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. Though he would never openly confess, the idea of attending hadn’t crossed his mind until that moment. However, if there was even the slightest chance that you would be there, he couldn’t bring himself to refuse. 
“Yes,” he replied simply, the single word carrying more weight than its brevity suggested.
You nodded slowly, as if processing his response required a deeper level of understanding. “See you there?” You ventured, the question hanging in the air, pregnant with unspoken implications.
He nodded, pulling his lips into the faintest smirk.
“See you there, mon lapin.”
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ghost-proofbaby · 2 days
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SO SCARLET (IT WAS MAROON)
CHAPTER EIGHT: LOML
AND I'LL STILL SEE IT, UNTIL I DIE - YOU'RE THE LOSS OF MY LIFE.
☆ pairings: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader
☆ warnings: no use of y/n, strong language, angst, consumption of alcohol, (overly poetic) smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, technically unprotected sex even after the idiots discussed protection, minors dni
☆ WC: 3.9K+
☆ A/N: extremely sorry for the shortest chapter in this series yet. also, out of all the songs referenced for the title of chapters, this one might be the most on the nose. i kid you not, i cannot explain how perfectly loml encapsulates reader/sugar's emotions during this chapter. if you'd like the extra hurt, 10/10 recommends listening as you read. :)
thank you to my love @hellfire--cult for the divider!
masterlist
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 “Can I kiss you, Sugar?” 
You’ve made your fair share of dumb decisions in your life. Plenty of moments have slipped right between your fingers due to hesitation that you’d later regret, you have a catalog of embarrassing encounters to serve you a lifetime. You’ve said yes when your answer should have been a resounding no, you’ve made promises you knew were impossible to keep, and you’ve always had an unexplainable habit of digging yourself into graves that will surely bury you alive. 
This moment is no different. 
The correct reaction is to tell him no, to push him away and end the night here. You should leave before either of you make any mistakes and ruin whatever fragile thing resides between the two of you any further. There’s a million other options you should be taking, but at the end of the day, you still nod your head. 
Not even a second later, Eddie’s lips are on yours, and it’s hard to call it a mistake when it’s the first time you’ve felt like you could properly breathe in two years. 
He tastes like bourbon, and mistakes, and regret, and a youthful type of love impossible to grasp onto. A vague memory you never get to hold, but always learn to miss. When his hands travel slowly to your hips, you’re only pressing closer, deepening the kiss with the desperation of someone starved. Someone stained. 
You were an idiot to think it wouldn’t end this way. You were in his apartment, and you were drunk. You were brimming with bad decisions. It was always going to end up this way. 
Your knees somehow end up digging into the sofa cushions on either side of his hips, your recollection of how you climbed into his lap nonexistent. Had it been his doing, his own needy hands guiding you here? Or had it been you? You, with an ache that rang throughout your entire body, soothed only by sharing each of his breaths with him when he finally pulls back from the kiss. 
“Are you sure you want thi-”
“Don’t ruin it,” you beg, silencing him as you look into those deep autumn eyes, memorizing rivets of soft auburn that never really changed. An ever changing kaleidoscope, but there were simply parts of Eddie he’d never be able to hide from you,to change, “Not yet. Please.”
You don’t know if you’ll want it come morning. You can’t estimate just how deeply the regret will burrow once it’s all said and done; you’re not in the mood to think sensibly. No hypotheticals, no curiosity for the future. 
You just want him. Right here, right now. Far beyond just sex, and far beyond casual touches. But it’s the only way you can have him, the only way he can have you, for now. 
His fingers are more skilled these days. More deft and nimble as they race up and down your sides, quickly undoing the button of your jeans and easily sneaking beneath your shirt. Two years could be two seconds with the way he still knows you and your body, knowing exactly where to apply more pressure as he plucks on every string beneath your skin that makes you sing out for him. Hums, gasps, moans – they all sort of blend together at some point, don’t they? 
“I’ve missed you,” you swear you hear him mumble against the skin of your neck when his mouth begins to wander, “I’ve missed this.” 
You convince yourself he didn’t say it just to avoid ripping yourself apart any further.  
Instead, you busy your mouth with kissing him harder, faster, more desperately. You’re all but burying yourself in him. Your hips grinding against his, your lips swallowed in his, your hands finding themselves tangled in his hair. 
You’re drunk enough that you convince yourself that this is it – this is home. 
It feels natural to let him run you down this way. It’s instinctual as he takes his shirt off and your hands roam over bare skin that whispers with the ridges of paths you’ve traced before. You know that scar on his right hip from when he got his appendix removed as a child, you know that lightened patch of skin on his left thumb from when he’d managed to burn himself with a lighter while cutting class one day with you. You know him – so much better than you’d let yourself believe these last few weeks. 
“Do you have a condom?” you pant, and you both pretend like your words are choked up from gasping to recover the air you’d offered to the kiss, and not the emotions rearing their ugly heads. 
He does. Of course he does. He’s a rockstar now – he has women throwing themselves at him constantly. Of course he’s prepared. 
It happens somewhere between him pulling the condom out of his wallet, and managing to pull his own shirt off. At some point in which you’re left in nothing but your undergarments, hips grinding down on his in sloppy circles, he lets out a low and drawn out moan. All your movements stutter, nearly halting, as that sound rings out around you. You swear, it echoes off the walls of your own head and not the eerily empty apartment. 
You break as you gasp out, “Fuck, Eddie.” 
Another dumb decision for the books. All it takes is you sighing his name for him to flip the entire script. Suddenly, you’re no longer straddling his lap, no longer biting his lip and gripping onto the back of the sofa for balance. 
Your back collides with the cushions below and he hovers over you, kissing with more intent and purpose this time. Each press of his lips is followed by the nipping of teeth, desperately trying to mark you up along your chest, completely oblivious to the way he’s already left his stain. 
You’re convinced if he presses his lips just hard enough, if he bares his teeth just sharp enough, he’ll see right through you. Your skin will become all but cellophane and he’ll see all those blooming violets and deep maroons still left behind in the shape of his mouth. He’ll see the way another has never followed these paths, not after him. 
All the failed rebounds, all the failed distractions. There’s never been another person capable of taking your mind off of Eddie Munson. No one’s kiss ever made you bleed the way he’s capable, no one’s touch could ever erase the mark of his. 
The wine still makes your head swim as your chin tilts to the roof, giving him all the room possible to paint whatever picture he’s vying for on your skin. You let him leave his physical mark; you let him leave a physical reminder of something to regret. 
“Do you know how many times I played this moment back over in my head?” his voice is a murmur that vibrates against your sternum, words not quite slurring, “Do you know how many times I swore-”
You don’t know – and you never find out what exactly he had sworn time and time again as the trill ringing of a cell phone shatters the entire atmosphere. 
One moment, Eddie’s lips are painting portraits along your chest and neck, the acceptance of making a mistake settling deep into your bones. And the next, he’s lifting up, looking wildly towards his kitchen, where you’re sure that it’s his phone buzzing erratically on the counter. 
“I-” he looks wildly between you and the distant phone, pupils blown out and lips swollen, “Fuck, I-”
All the air leaves your lungs.
There will be no mistakes tonight. 
“Go answer it,” you whisper, deflating as you accept the interruption. The moment’s over, fading in between the lipstick marks on your wine glass and the glow of the lamps scattered throughout his living room, “It’s fine.” 
It’s not fine. It’s written plainly across his face that this is the furthest thing from fine at this moment. But duty calls; his phone is ringing, your mind is buzzing, and the moment is simply gone. 
It has to be fine. You have to be fine with it. 
“I’ll be right back,” he swears as he lifts himself up off the couch, but you know he won’t be. 
Your shirt is already back by the time he’s reached the counter, laptop already tucked safely back into your bag as he answers the call. 
“Hello?” he asks, eyes flitting over to you as he watches you gather your things, picking up the wine glass that had been yours the entire night in order to carry it over to the sink he leans against the counter next to. A bit of chatter comes from over the line, and Eddie’s entire face twists, “Am I busy? Yeah, yeah – as a matter of fact, I am.” 
Just as you sit the glass into the sink, you bring a hand to his bicep, letting it rest there selfishly. Feeling his bare skin one final time, drinking in the heat he radiates through your palm, giving yourself one last chance to memorize it. 
You’re not busy, you mouth to him with a sad smile. 
He’s not. Because there will be no mistakes tonight. 
You go to pull your hand away, prepared to somehow call an Uber or taxi, but he’s quick to wrap his fingers around your wrist just as your skin slides from his. It’s not forceful, but simply firm. Clinging with a desperation you can’t recognize. 
Stay, he mouths back, the person over the line clearly continuing to speak without Eddie paying them any mind.
You almost do. You falter and consider dropping your bag then and there. You nearly stay, wait out the phone call, sit pretty and patient until he returns to you just as he had promised. 
But he had left you with a promise of later once before, and he hadn’t kept his promise then. 
“Oh,” you whispered, disappointment gripping your lungs, “Oh, that’s fine! Go, they need you.”
“Yeah,” he chuckled. You missed hearing that in person, that soft laughter in the shell of your ear over inside jokes and one too many glasses of wine. “Rockstar duties and all. We’ll talk more later?”
Later had never found its way back to the two of you all those years ago – why would it now? 
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Eds,” you whisper, soft enough to guarantee whoever was on the other side of the phone call wouldn’t hear you. The fall of his face is almost enough to make you take back the words and swallow them back down. 
“Wait-” he’s not whispering, almost as though he’s forgotten about the call entirely. You can hear the silence over the line, probably in confusion, as you walk away, “Wait- No- I-”
You motion to the phone still pressed to his ear and cheek, trying to remind him that someone else can hear. 
He removes it and ends the call before you can protest.
“Eddie-” you start to scold, but he refuses to hear any of it. 
“No, no,” he sounds as though he might be begging. And you can’t tell if he’s begging you to not reprimand him, or if he’s begging you to not leave, “I don’t care. It was just Matt, he can wait till morning.” 
It doesn’t answer the question of what he wanted from you. 
“It’s getting late, anyways,” you’re still trying to detect your escape route, the longer you spend in the aftermath making your chest tighten more and more.
You can’t do this. 
You can’t stand in this room with him and pretend that it’s all okay. You can’t act as though the wine’s effects are slipping away from you and you can’t brush off the feeling of his lips across your chest. You have no patience left to act as though your lungs aren’t shriveling up in your chest, unable to get enough air when he’s too close all while being all too far away. 
It would have been a mistake, and you’re both better for the interruption. 
Eddie shakes his head, letting out a dry laugh, “We aren’t doing this again, Sugar. We aren’t going to just pretend that didn’t happen-”
“Why not?” you challenge him, “This… it’s better this way, Eddie. If we kept it up, we both would have regretted it, and it’d just be another mistake-”
“Who’s we?” he cuts you off. 
We. You, me, both of us. We’d both regret it, wouldn’t we? 
But you still didn’t regret kissing him. You still didn’t regret sitting in his lap and drinking him in, you still wouldn’t take back whatever moment was shared prior to the phone’s interruption. 
All your regrets are spoken in future tense. All the mistakes are somewhere ahead of you, your mind running to things that haven’t happened yet.
How do you know if you’d regret it? How do you know if he’d regret it?
Your hold on your bag begins to loosen, “I- Both of us. We’d both regret it.” 
“I wouldn’t regret it. I don’t think I could ever regret you.” 
This is the part you walk away. You sling your bag onto your shoulder, you tell him to have a goodnight, and you leave. You’ll see him tomorrow, and you’ll pretend this conversation never happened. 
Except you don’t.
Your bag falls to the ground, a muted crash that probably pisses off his downstairs neighbors. The toes of your shoes knock into the worn bag, kicking it to the side with more gentleness than you should be capable of right now. When he reaches out a hand to hold you, you take it. 
You let him get his hot palms back on your body. You let his lips find their way back to yours. 
You finally just let the mistake happen and take the chance on finding out if the regret is nothing more than shadows in the closet, make-believe once you turn the light back on. 
The couch isn’t the destination this time. You’re almost sad that you don’t get to admire any of his decor as he drags you down the hallway, but you also doubt there’s even a sliver of the ghost of the man holding onto you in any of it. He’s not on the walls, he’s not in the pictures; he’s right in front of you, kissing you heavily and desperately, letting his feet stumble right over yours as he finally reaches blindly for the knob of the door behind you. He’s in the rings pressing into the skin of your hips and he’s in the wavering cologne that bursts from his sheets as he carefully drops you back on a bed far too large for one man. 
He’s in the shadow hovering over you, he’s in the slide of his leg as he spreads your thighs to find home between them. He may not haunt this apartment, but he haunts you. Your body, your mind, your senses. 
Always have, always will. 
Alcohol isn’t clouding the moment anymore as each kiss is gentler, retracing the bruises already forming across your collar bones. He’s taking his time, enjoying himself, no longer rushing through the process of getting to know you again. The loss of your shirt and the unbuttoning of your jeans is done with shaking hands this time. Less sure, but far more determined. 
Your own hands are steady, though, as you undress him. You’re sure. This is your mistake to make, your mistake to regret. And maybe he had a point – maybe it is impossible for either of you to regret each other. For all the tears shed and all the nights spent cursing his name, it’s never once crossed your tongue that you wanted to erase him. You think if someone were to try and take him, take all that you two had shared together from you, that they’d be met with white knuckles and deathly screams. A rancid animal foaming at the mouth, refusing to let go of the one thing it had ever managed to sink its claws into. 
You’d forgotten just how well you know him. 
It was beyond superficial scars and childhood stories. You still remember the exact pulse point that makes him moan out with just a brush of your mouth against it. You can still find that spot above his hips that spasm when your hands grip them, encouraging him to grind down onto you. You know his body, you know his past, you know his mind. 
Words are no longer necessary as it finally happens. 
Prayers of each other’s name, ignorance in the way this entire moment was becoming too gentle for two fools rekindling. A practiced dance you once only ever dreamt of swaying to with him. 
You would have given him everything. You did give him everything. Your youth, your future, your aspirations, your daydreams of a glittering gem on your sacred finger and a list of baby names the two of you had argued over endlessly. All those things still belong to him, even now. Even as this new version of him hovers over you, lips trailing with purpose over your abdomen, making his way down to your core. 
You can’t tell if he’s a stranger when he places a hot kiss over the cotton of your underwear. You can’t tell if you ever spent two years away from him as his hands hold down your hips when they buck in response. 
“Eddie,” you beg, fingers lacing into his curls just as they had earlier, gripping onto him for dear life. You’re looking down at him between your thighs, refusing to blink on the off chance that he’ll simply vanish when you do, “Please.” 
“Please what, Sugar?” 
“Touch me,” you gasp out as his fingers toy with the waistband of your underwear, colossus course against soft skin, “Kiss me, fuck me- I just-” 
No further explanation is needed. Your wish is his command. 
Your panties are tossed to the hardwood floor at the edge of the bed as if they always belonged there. His mouth ravishes you as if this was just a nightly routine between the two of you. As if he didn’t have to second think what pace you might prefer, or when to add the first finger. Or the second. He plays you beautifully, crooking his fingers and nipping at sensitive skins and nerves alike, listening to the way you only seem to remember his name. Like you don’t remember the sound of a dial tone instead of declarations of adoration, like you don’t remember the excuses for him denying you all his attention. 
You wish you could just stay in this moment forever. Him, buried between your thighs. All hurt and all stains forgotten when he builds you up to the edge, when he murmurs against your clit about how pretty you look for him right now. 
Cheap wine soaking Halloween costumes. Hazy rooms, smokey with youthful desires and incense. Dancing in an apartment filled with boxes not yet unpacked. Whispers of something being real. Late night trips to the gas station and all the pride in your eyes as you heard his song played on public radio for the first time. The terrible waiting, the messy kisses of more teeth than lips. A simple necklace adorned with a simple ring, burning with more promises than either can comprehend, still gathering dust at the bottom of your jewelry box to this day. 
Just in case. Just in case he ever came back; just in case you ever returned. 
By the time he’s climbing back up your body, you have one foot in the past, cleaving yourself in two as you cling to him like water. 
“Look at you,” he whispers when his face is back above yours, lips still slick with you, “You’re fucking beautiful, you know that?” 
You swear, for just a moment, his eyes are mirrors. And you can see that dazed look you wear, the face of a woman still trapped by her past. The face of someone who can’t let the dead stay buried. Someone you wouldn’t describe as beautiful, but Eddie would. 
You should have left. You should be regretting this. You only pull him closer. 
His boxers bunch at his ankles, your fingernails dig into his back. When you feel him press against you, the tip of his dick just barely tapping against your clit, your entire body tenses. This was it. This was the mistake you had taken responsibility for, this was the choice you’d decided was worth damnation. A simple slip up, a quick fall backwards, and you’ll be right back where you started two years ago. 
“You still want this?” he sighs into your ear, clearly feeling the way you’d froze up. 
Your breath catches for just a second. More memories, more images that cut straight through you. Every careless afternoon, every serene morning. Every haunted night. 
“Yeah,” your entire body relaxes, muscle by muscle, “Yeah, I still want this.” 
You mean more than just the sex. 
The press of your heels into his lower back is all the encouragement he needs to finally push into you. The stretch burns, but it’s welcome all the same. Just an aftereffect of years of emptiness, of failing to ever find something that could make you feel as whole as he does. 
The moan he lets out as he’s wrapped in your warmth sends shivers down your spine. You swear, laced in it, there lies a gasp of relief. A sigh of coming home after a long tour, the huff of an exhale just before he crosses the threshold of a front door and has you in his arms again. 
You don’t know when the tears started. 
But between his thrusts, between all his wanton groans and your own quivers of excitement, your cheeks turn wet. 
“Then I say let it burn.”
You can’t tell if it’s sweat or his own tears seeping into your skin as your bodies press together harder, your head thrown back in ecstasy. 
“I love you so goddamn much, it hurts. I can’t believe this is real.” 
You find your hands tugging on the roots of his curls even harder as you try to tether yourself back to him, but it’s no use. 
“When I get back, all I care about is you.” 
It all comes crashing down on both of you as his face is buried in the crook of your neck and your thighs squeeze around his hips – all the love that was there, all the love that was lost. All the love that still remains. 
“Something for you to always have as a reminder that I’ll come back to you. You’re it for me, sweetheart.”
He’d always warned you this would happen. That one day he’d come back to you. That he’d only ever come back for you. 
It doesn’t matter how deep of scratches you leave across his back, or how many hickies he paints your skin with. There will never be enough bloodshed between the two of you to wash away the truth. It’s not a mistake, it’s not something to regret. You wish it was; you wish it were so simple. No, this moment was one thing and one thing only – inevitable. 
They always did say that your life would flash before your eyes right before you die. 
And flash it does – a lifetime of love that was had and love that will never come back to you – as Eddie brings you both to your graves from the most cursed of little deaths.
eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles
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t00thpasteface · 20 hours
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i said i'd do it and i did it. now i can quantify exactly how elvisy all my faves are... and you can, too!
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feel free to spread this bad boy around maybe??? but here it is for some exemplary faves of mine:
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a couple notes:
actual perfect score with full bonus points is 15/10
feel free to fudge the numbers in whatever direction you think is funnier; this operates on roger rabbit rules and i want you, person reading this, to be able to say so-and-so is "a 9 out of 10 on the elvis scale" for comedic effect if you truly want to
↑ this is why i counted hawkeye's gross martinis as "food"
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scoonsalicious · 15 hours
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Unwanted: Chapter 29, Unarmed, Redux - Pt. 3
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, manipulation, one last super soldier betrayal.
Word Count: 1.3k
Previously On...: You and Bucky finally have the long-awaited talk.
A/N: Ew, Steve.
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43
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There was a gentle knock on the hospital room door, and Steve stuck his head in. “Hey,” he said softly. “Tony said you were awake. Is it okay if I come in?”
You shared a quick glance at Bucky, who shrugged. “Sure,” you said.
Steve shuffled into the room and stood awkwardly at the end of your bed. “I’m so glad to see you awake, Pocket. You really had us scared there for a minute.” Steve was using his official Captain voice, which immediately put you on edge. Why?
“Why are you acting weird, Stevie?” Bucky asked, and you were glad he also seemed to sense it.
Steve coughed into his fist. “I was, uh, actually hoping I could speak to Pocket alone for a minute, Buck.”
Bucky looked at you, then made a move to get off the hospital bed, but you held your hand out, stopping him. “No, Buck– stay; we’re not done.” You turned back to Steve. “I’m sorry, Steve, but I’m not ready for him to go just yet.”
“Oh, okay… well, I can come back later…” he began, but his manner was so bizarre, he now had you on your guard.
“I’m sure whatever it is you have to say to me, you can say in front of your best friend, Steve,” you said carefully, taking Bucky’s hand again. 
Steve closed his eyes and sighed heavily. “I suppose you’re right, Pocket,” he said after a moment, “considering this concerns him, too.” You and Bucky exchanged a glance, both curious and a little wary of what the captain might have to say.
Steve gripped the bottom railing of your bed, as if relying on it for support. “I owe you both a sincere apology,” he said eventually. “You have to know, it was never my intention for things to go as far as they did; I never meant for you to get hurt, Pocket. You have to believe me.”
You were stunned into silence, not knowing what exactly Steve was referring to, and not sure you wanted to.
Bucky’s eyes widened in realization and he sat up straighter. “You son of a bitch,” he said, catching on to something you obviously hadn’t grasped yet. His entire body tensed up, and he spoke in a tone you’d never heard him use with Steve before– low, and angry. Furious. “I can’t believe you would fucking do that to us. To me. After everything.”
Steve looked down, refusing to meet Bucky’s eye, and you saw his cheeks redden with embarrassment. And shame.
“Uh, maybe it’s the after effects of the anesthesia, or the extensive blood loss, or all the recent head trauma, but, uh, I am not following,” you said, looking between both men. Bucky was staring daggers at Steve now. “What am I missing? What are you apologizing for, Steve?”
Bucky’s jaw was hard, and you could practically feel him grinding his teeth next to you. “You wanna tell her, Rogers, or should I?”
Steve swallowed, then eventually looked back up at you. “I was the one who approved Jade for the Russia mission. I… I made sure that she didn’t get on the Quinjet until it was too late for Bucky to get her off, so that he’d have to take her along.”
“What?!” you practically shouted. “Steve, why would you do that? You saw what happened to Rhodey because of her! Why would you put Bucky in danger like that?!”
“The same reason he put her in the room next door to me, doll,” Bucky said. “And the same reason he insisted I’d be the one to train her, even though I begged him to do it when she started becoming a problem.”
You frowned, not sure what to make of what Bucky was saying. Surely Steve wouldn’t… he couldn’t…
“I didn’t make you do anything, Bucky,” Steve said softly. “I just… manufactured some circumstances. You made your own choices.”
Things were slowly clicking into place for you. “Hold up,” you interjected. “Steve, are you saying you deliberately put Jade in Bucky’s path?” You looked at him, waiting for a response, but his silence and avoidance of your eyes was answer enough. “Why would you do that, Steve?” you asked, suspecting you already knew, yet not wanting to believe.
“When Bucky and I were younger,” Steve began, continuing to avoid your gaze, “back in the ‘30s and ‘40s, Bucky never stayed with one girl for very long. Didn’t want to settle down, commit himself.” Steve sighed and you felt Bucky tense up beside you. “He never meant to break anyone’s heart, but it still happened, all the same. When the two of you got together, I knew it was only going to be a matter of time… before he got… bored, and moved on.”
“Now listen here, you fucking punk,” Bucky began, moving to stand. You put a hand on his thigh, urging him to stay seated.
“Let him talk, Buck,” you said calmly, much more calmly than you actually felt. “I want to hear what he has to say.”
The look Bucky gave you was pained, as though he was terrified you were buying into Steve’s excuses. Steve seemed to think so, as well, because he continued, seemingly emboldened: “I couldn’t stand the thought of you being hurt like that,” he went on. “I thought it would be better, for the both of you, if you realized it sooner, rather than later, when you’d both gotten in too deep, that it just wasn’t meant to work out between you.”
You gaped at him, speechless, while Bucky clenched and unclenched his fists beside you. “When you got shot, Pocket, when I saw how Bucky reacted to the idea of losing you, I… I realized his feelings for you were the real thing, that I never should have meddled. Not only did I help set you up for needless heartbreak, but I put you in danger. And I’m sorry.”
“You’re full of shit,” Bucky said, standing up now. He walked over to Steve, poking him in the chest.  “You can pretend you were doing it out of the goodness of your heart all you want, but I know better. I know you. What was your endgame, huh? Swoop in and play the white knight? Be a shoulder for Pocket to cry on until she was vulnerable enough to give into you?”
Steve swallowed thickly, and you could hear the unspoken answer in it. Yes.
“I never meant for you to get hurt,” Steve said, looking to you with pleading eyes. “You have to believe me.”
“You have no idea what you’ve done!” Bucky shouted at Steve. “What you cost her, us!” He shoved Steve backward with both hands, and Steve took it. “She almost died– twice! She got shot, she lost our baby, all because of shit you helped put in motion! I don’t know how I can ever forgive you, man!”
“You’re not innocent in this, Bucky–” Steve began, and then realization overcame him. “Wait– what do you mean, ‘lost your baby?’” He looked to you. “Pocket, you were pregnant? Bucky was the father?”
This was too much. “Get out, Steve,” you said quietly, with no emotion in your voice.
“Pocket, I–” Steve tried, but you interrupted him. “I said ‘get out,’” you reiterated. “You may be my captain, but you and I? We can’t ever be friends again. Not after something like this.”
Steve looked distraught. “But you can forgive him?” he asked, jerking a thumb toward Bucky. “He fucked her, and you’re gonna let that slide?” 
“Language, Steve,” you said mechanically, almost as if automated. “And whether or not I forgive Bucky is none of your business. All you need to concern yourself with is that I don’t forgive you. Now, please; get out. I can’t stand to look at you.”
“Pocket, please–” Steve tried one last time, but Bucky started backing him up toward the door.
“She said ‘out,’ Rogers.” Bucky said, holding the door open. “And if you don’t want me wiping the floor with your ass, I suggest you do as she asks.”
With a final, forlorn look in your direction, Steve Rogers turned and exited the hospital room.
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arcanefox207 · 3 days
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The Wolf You Feed (Part 2)
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Rating: Explicit, 18+ MDNI
Word Count: 5.6k
Part 2 / ? (Ongoing Series) (AO3)
Summary: Set in a fictional New England town, you fall for your handsome, intense and outdoorsy neighbor while renting out your parent's vacant summer home during a brutal winter.
Warnings: No Outbreak, AU but with TLoU characters, Large age gap (Reader is 29. Joel is 50). Pet names but no use of Y/N. Reader is smaller than Joel and has hair he can grab. POV Switching. Series contains Angst and lots of Smut (to avoid chapter specific spoilers you can expect things such as but not limited to Unprotected PiV, Cream Pies, Oral, Masturbation, Dom!Joel, Subby reader, Pining, Infidelity) 
A/N: In case you are just jumping in, you can read Part 1 here. Part 2 is more smut heavy! I aim to have Part 3 out much sooner as time allows!
A O 3 | M A S T E R L I S T | N O T I F I C A T I O N S
Comments / Reblogs are so incredibly appreciated and give me the motivation to write 🧡
Without further ado... for your reading pleasure.
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It’s late on Saturday morning and you have a pot of coffee brewing while you shower. You stand in the stream of hot water far longer than you need to. Your thoughts shrouded by your evening with Joel Miller. How rough but passionate his touch was. How he made you get on your knees for him. How he tasted and how badly you wanted… needed  more of him. Your hands trace over tender spots where he held onto you and you relish the memory. 
He tested your obedience and you followed his orders. You hope it turned him on as much as it did you. You liked surrendering yourself to him. Despite his roughness you felt safe with him. You couldn’t explain it yet but you could feel that his burly facade was hiding something softer. 
You finally step out onto the cool tile and dry off in front of the mirror. You pat your hair down with your towel and when the steam starts to dissipate you catch how happy you look. An old you that you have not recognized for a long, long time. 
You smile to yourself and resolve to put Joel out of your mind for now or nothing would be getting done today. 
The coffee helps wake you up enough to plan out your morning. There is a light coating of fresh snow and the sky looks gray and ominous. A big storm is expected to hit overnight so you head into town to pick up some food and provisions. You make a quick stop at Grind when you see Marlene’s car parked in front.
There are a few customers and you are surprised to see Marlene working. By her expression, she wasn’t too pleased to be there.
“Hey!” You greet her as you approach the counter. “You got stuck working today?”
“Yeah, someone called out.” she rolled her eyes. “Don’t feel too bad for me, it’s your turn next.” she jokes. A teenager is busy checking out a customer and another is making a latte. Marlene steps away for a moment to chat with you.
“So…” she prods. “How did it go?” You fail to hide your smile and thoughts of Joel overtake you once again. 
“It went… great.” 
“When can I meet him?” 
You laugh nervously at her question.
“Lets not jump ahead. Right now it’s just something… casual.” 
She is skeptical of your reply and stares at you for a moment, trying to will more out of you, but you don’t give in. 
“Ok. Whatever you say.” She rolls her eyes again. “I have to get back to work, but you are going to have to tell me sooner or later.” She points at you and furrows her brow. 
“Yeah, Yeah.” You joke. “See you Monday!”
You leave the shop and cross the street to the grocery store. The place is mobbed and the shelves wiped out of the most in demand items. You grab a few things and chat with your mom who calls you to check in. Rather, to tell you all about her excursions and gossip about people you have never even met. You don’t mind and just tell her things are going well, you like your job and let her ramble on, not really listening. Mindless chatter in your ears while you shop. 
She does catch you off guard when she mentions hearing about the storm and “Joel will plow for us if we ask him to” casually. Your ears perk at the mention of his name but you act cool and collected. You don’t like the way she volunteers his services so nonchalantly. It strikes a nerve in you and reminds you of how she always insinuates you are incapable of being responsible. It makes you feel defensive for Joel, too. Her disregard for his time further illustrating how self centered she is. This was one of the factors that pushed you away for so many years. 
“Your father will call him later—” 
Absolutely not. You interrupt her sternly mid-sentence. 
“Mom. I will take care of it.” The last thing you want is your parents harassing Joel or trying to control you from across the country. This was a string you needed to make clear was not going to be attached to your current living arrangement.
“I have things under control.” 
“Oh… ok then.” Her tone is short and then she is off talking about her beach plans again. This goes on for another 10 minutes and by now you are in the checkout line. You say your goodbyes and calculate another week or two before you have to do that all over again. 
You hadn’t really considered the snow aftermath but you had a shovel and your car would be good enough to get out of your driveway… probably. You were not going to bother Joel regardless. 
The call puts you in a bad mood as you drive home. The spitting snow reminds you of the impending storm. The cheerful start of the day is gone and replaced with a heavy feeling.
You drive past Joel’s house and wonder if he is home and what he is doing. Wonder if you should call him. Wonder why he has not reached out to you either. You don’t want to be that girl. It’s not like you and him are anything. You shouldn’t be expecting anything from him. However, you still feel a faint sting of disappointment. Maybe he had his fun and that was it. Self doubt poisons your mind but you try to swallow it back. 
The rest of the day you spend eating junk food and watching movies on Netflix. You fall asleep on the couch early in the night before forcing yourself into bed. The wind and snow has ramped up and your power flickers. 
You pull your comforter tightly over you and take one last look at your phone but you already know there is nothing from Joel. 
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Saturday Night (Joel POV)
Joel sits up in his loft on his worn out couch, strumming his guitar. He takes a sip of his whiskey, neat, and poorly mouths the words to his song. 
He plays a few more riffs but feels distracted and unfocused. All attempts to keep busy have been ineffective today. He spent the afternoon preparing his truck and stacking firewood. Once that work was done he had nothing but free time.
The truth is, you have been on his mind. It was hard not to think about you. He had only explored the tip of the iceberg with you and wanted more. He knew it wasn’t right to pursue you for a magnitude of reasons, but the desire was not waning. He felt things with you that he had not felt in a long time. Feelings he was afraid to give in to.      
Joel replaces the guitar in his hands with his phone and hovers your name in the recent contacts.  This isn’t the first time today he has almost called you. 
What are you doing, stupid. He thinks to himself. 
He shuts down the moment of weakness and locks his phone. He knocks back the last of his whiskey and heads downstairs. He turns on his TV to the local news and listens to them fuss over the storm. He knew tomorrow would be a busy one for him with his side hustle as the plow guy many locals depended on. Just another thing to keep him busy. 
He goes to take a shower before calling it an early night.
The shower is hot and comforting and in no time his mind is wandering back to you. He thought about your brief evening together and how intriguing you were. How bold you were. How tight you were when he was fingering you and how needy you sounded.  
He puts a fist against the shower wall to brace himself and hangs his head low so his shoulders block the bulk of the water. He uses his free hand to wrap around his semi-hard cock. He remembers your playful hold on him and gently strokes himself. It doesn’t take very long to get hard as he relives that moment in his mind. His strokes get harder and faster and he wishes he was fucking into you and not his own hand.
He groans as he comes and watches his spend drip down the shower walls and into the drain. His few moments of bliss quickly fade away. He balls his fist in frustration at his unfulfilling release. He needs more. He needs you. 
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Your Sunday morning begins with anything but peace and calm. You are startled awake by the grinding sound of heavy metal dragging across pavement. You look outside your bedroom window and see the snow has blanketed everything and there are still a few lingering flurries dancing in the sky. The trees are struggling with bent over branches coated in ice and snow. 
Leaving your warm and cozy blanket fortress is the last thing you want to do. You lazily grab a hoodie to pull over your oversized shirt you slept in and your pajama shorts and make your way to the front of the house. The floor is cold on your feet but the air is warm. You cranked the thermostat before bed, making you feel rebellious in the moment but it seemed silly and wasteful now.
You look out the front window that faces the driveway. There you see Joel Miller in his truck, plow attached, barreling towards you and crashing into a snowbank he started building up. He looked so serious and professional backing up his truck with an arm stretched across his seat as he looked over his shoulder. He was so focused he was not aware you were watching him and his scowl at work. 
It doesn’t take long before that familiar ache between your legs returns. The longing to let Joel have his way with you. A desire that is getting harder and harder to ignore.
The realization that you look like you just woke up from bed hits and you scramble to the bathroom to run a comb through your hair and brush your teeth. You can hear the drag of the plow continue as you finish up and then rush to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. The stove clock reads 7:32am. Way too fucking early for a Sunday morning.
You hear his truck door slam and the sound of crunchy snow under his boots. He is walking with a heavy foot and grabs the shovel leaning by your door.
Joel is shoveling your walkway, weaving a modest path for you to get from your house to your driveway without trudging through the snow. You can hear him grunt as he tosses the heavy snow out of the way. What would have taken you probably an hour takes him just a few minutes. 
He plunges the shovel into a snowbank when he reaches the end of the path and leans on it to catch his breath. He looks exhausted and rightfully so. You want to comfort him in whatever way you can. At least offer him some respite to show your appreciation. As much as you hate to admit it, you would have been totally fucked if you had to tackle your driveway with your inadequate self. Joel saves the day, again.
You crack open the front door and call out to Joel, reluctantly interrupting his moment of peace. 
“Hey!” 
He slowly turns in your direction when he hears your voice. His eyes scrunch as he makes out your figure hanging out the door. He gives a lazy wave of acknowledgment. 
“Come inside and warm up? I made coffee.” 
He picks up the shovel to return it and makes his way towards you. 
“Yeah, ok. Just for a minute” He follows you inside.
Joel closes the door hard behind him and scuffs his boots on the mat to get off any snow. He brushes his hand quickly over the top of his head to knock off any lingering snow and unbuttons his jacket. He empties his pockets and puts his wallet and phone on the end table. He saunters over to you as you hand him a fresh cup of coffee, black. 
“Thanks.” He manages a smile. He returns to the living room and groans as he lowers himself to the couch. He recklessly sips his piping hot beverage and seems immune to the searing heat and delighted to have it.  He rests his mug on the table and leans back and closes his eyes. His hand comes up to his brow as he pinches his thumb and finger together across his eyes.   
You lean against the doorway between the rooms and sip your coffee. You notice how tired and worn he looks. His damp hair is shiny. His heat is melting the last few snowflakes and making him look messy and wet. His jacket is open and disheveled and his flannel undershirt is haphazardly draping on him as he slouches back. 
Despite all that he is still as handsome as ever and you like seeing him this way. Vulnerable in this out-of-character state. 
“Tired.” He grunts with his eyes closed and it snaps you out of your thoughts. “Been a long morning.” 
You take a few steps towards him to close the gap.
“I’m too old for this.” He sneers as he looks at you with lazy, heavy lids.
“You didn’t have to worry about me, you know…” Your voice trails off as you wonder if he was there on his own volition. You can’t help but ask. You need to know.
“Did… did my dad call you?” 
“No.” he answers firmly with a suspicion in his tone, almost sounding offended. 
“Good. I mean, thank you. That was really nice of you to come over.” You pause and smile at him. You feel guilty, but also have never had someone so capable looking out for you before.  
“I was going to shovel it.” 
He raises his brow at the ridiculous claim.
“No you weren’t. Wouldn’t have let you if I saw ya out there.”
“Well.. Thank you.” 
“S’nothing. I don’t mind… having an excuse to see ya.” His brows raise and wrinkle in the middle. He has a softened expression as he looks into your eyes. 
Your heart skips a beat and is heavy in your chest, you wonder if he can hear it beating. Having an excuse to see you. You replay it in your mind. He wants to see you. You feel stupid for getting carried away thinking otherwise.    
You put your coffee down next to his and casually walk around to the back of the couch. There is a force compelling you to comfort him. Encourage him to relax. That fluttering feeling in your stomach surges. Joel Miller is exhausted on your couch and isn’t going to be putting up much of a fight if you fuss over him and you want to fuss over him. 
You stand behind him and reach your arms down and spread them slowly from his shoulders down to his sides. He lets out a tiny moan as you circle his taut muscles. You pinch and massage them as you go. You lean forward and bring your mouth just behind his ear. 
“You don’t need an excuse to see me.” It comes out softly and seductive. You can feel his body tense under your words. 
You rake your hands back up to his shoulders and curl your fingers under his open jacket. He halfway cooperates as you tug the jacket off his shoulders and pull it away from him. It's wet and heavy and most of the snow has melted into it by now. You toss it on the back of the couch and return to his shoulders. Your hands massage him and you can feel his muscles tight and knotted under your grasp. His head tilts back into the couch as he lets you tenderly work him.
“Feels good. Really good.” He says in a low, almost inaudible tone. His exhaustion has let his body surrender to you and he isn’t fighting to be in control. 
You lean forward again and plant your mouth on his jawline with a sensual kiss. His damp whiskers prickle your cheek as you drag it against him and go to his ear.
“Let me take care of you.”
He makes a deep, throaty sound in response. 
His flannel is damp and hot and he looks so uncomfortable and stuffy now that he has been inside a while. You slide one of your hands down to his chest and unbutton his shirt. You are halfway down and he reaches his arm up and curls his fingers behind your neck, pulling you down to his mouth. You can feel the shift in the room, like you woke a sleeping bear. 
“Come here.” He uses his free hand to tap his lap and loosens his grip on you.
You walk around to the front of the couch and stand in front of Joel. His legs are spread and he is still lazily slouched back but he motions for you to join him. His half unbuttoned shirt teases you with his thermal undershirt peeking out, still hiding his bare skin. At least you are getting closer.   
You step towards him and move to straddle him on the couch. You have a leg on each side and he puts a hand on each hip under your baggy sweatshirt. 
His hold is tender but makes you melt when you feel the wingspan his fingers have on you. His thumbs brush over your hip bones and trace down to the soft skin just above the crease of your thigh as he casually dips them along your waistband. His touch sends sparks through your skin. 
He lazily stares you down with a narrow gaze over his nose, still resting his head back. 
“Keep going.” He closes his eyes as your focus goes back to finish unbuttoning his shirt.   
As you get close to his jeans you can feel him hardening and straining against the zipper.
You pop open the button and carefully unzip him. His cock springs loose in his boxer shorts. It teases you behind the cloth barrier and you reach for his waistband so you can grab a hold of him. His fingers dig into your sides and he pushes you back slightly to make you stop. He fights through the laziness and is now fully alert. 
“You want my cock?” He grits through his teeth.  “Think it’ll fit in your pretty pussy?” He drags one of his hands to your center and grabs you through the fabric. He smirks as he can feel you are wet and damp through your thin sleep shorts. His fingers sneak into the leg hole of your shorts and he teases your clit through your cotton underwear. You clench remembering the stretch from his thick fingers deep inside you just the other night.
“Yes–” your words catch in your throat as he pushes your underwear aside and thumbs over your folds. He barely touches you and opts to tease you instead, deliberately feathering over your swollen clit. You reach down to grab the wrist of his occupied hand and grind into his fingers. Your body craves the friction. 
“Fuck me, Joel.” 
His eyes darken and with a devilish smirk he takes his hand back and watches as you slide off him to take off your clothes. He looks at your body with a sleazy ferocity. If any other guy looked at you that way you would have slapped him, but not Joel Miller. You want his attention and you like the way it makes you feel when he is eyeing you like a starving wolf.
You pull off your hoodie and shirt and toss them to the piles of clothes building up on the floor. You stand in front of him completely naked. Exposed.  Joel brings out a side of you that makes you feel confident and bold. The way he looks at you with intrigue and desire encourages you. You take a brief moment to tease him back and drag your hands over your breasts and one continues down to your cunt. 
Joel stirs in his seat. He is so easy to rile up. He pulls off his flannel and kicks off his boots. His thermal long sleeve remains hugging his body in all the right places. He arches forward as his hand grabs his thermal from the back and pulls it off over his head. It makes a prickly, staticy sound as it brushes over his hair. He tosses it to the ground and for the first time you can fully take in his body without so many layers hiding him. 
His broad shoulders and chest taper down to a narrowed waist. His body is rugged and defined. For an older man his physique had been well maintained thanks to his lifestyle. His tanned skin and his messy, dark hair with silver streaks sends tingles through you. You have never been so physically drawn into someone before on a level that almost felt primal. 
His eyes sweep your body up and down as he drags his thumb along the side of his mouth and rakes his fingers through his scruff on his chin. He bites his lip while he drinks you in. 
“Damn, baby.”  He curls his thumbs inside the band of his jeans and tugs them down along with his boxers. He kicks them off his legs and reaches towards you, wrapping around the back of your thigh and beckons you to return to him. 
“Come ‘ere”
Your eyes gape as you take in his sheer size. It is intimidating but makes you ache with desire. 
You are back in his lap straddling him with little coercion needed. You stretch an arm behind you to hold yourself up and the other touches yourself. This position lets him take all of you in; bare, exposed and wanting. Wet and needy for him. 
His hand reaches for his throbbing cock. He palms himself with a few labored strokes. He is already beading precome at the tip. You feel a pang of jealousy and wish it was your body wrapped around him. He catches the hungry way you are looking at him. You catch how much he likes it. 
“You wanna ride this cock?” He brushes the tip against your opening and you let out a whimper in response and lurch forward. You brace yourself on his forearm and your other hand pushes against his chest to keep yourself upright. His skin is firm as you grip into him. His body hot and radiating like a furnace.    
“Haven’t gotten you off my mind since Friday.” He confesses. “Thinking about how tight my cock would fit in you.” He teases you with the tip again. Your whimper grows into a needy moan making him harder. Making him want you that much more. 
He crudely spits into his hand and rubs it along his shaft and then he notches it at your entrance. You can feel your body begging to be filled with him and you’ve been wet since you woke up to him in your driveway. You’ve lost count how many times you imagined Joel fucking you. He puts his hands back on your hips with a rough grip and you move your hands to his shoulders as you slowly lower yourself onto him. He helps keep you steady. 
“Joel! Fuck–” You moan. His thick cock sears your skin as it stretches you. He is slowly splitting you open inch by inch and you have never felt more full. He lets you control the pace for now, with pained restraint. He searches your eyes to make sure it isn’t too much. He knows he is a lot to take but the slowness is making him go insane. 
Joel lets out a grunt as he gets closer to bottoming out inside you. Your walls clench around him and the sweet pain from the stretch subsides as your body adjusts to his size. You slowly ride him up and down until you have him fully sheathed inside you. Your body is so full you don’t even have room to form complete thoughts. You can only focus on his burning hot heat inside you, tearing you open. Every moment before this pales in comparison.
“Fuck. So tight.” he snarls. His grip on you tightens as he pulls your body up and then thrusts into you, hard. He keeps the pace slow but more forceful than you were. He tries to be gentle but you can feel his patience slipping away.
One hand drags to his biceps where sweat is glistening. As he lifts you his muscles flex and contract he makes it seem so effortless to maneuver your smaller frame. Everything about Joel is big and strong and rigid. The epitome of masculinity.
Each thrust up into you makes you dizzy. You can feel yourself on the verge of orgasm, cock drunk and blissed-out. His heavy breathing and hitches in his voice send you over the edge as he pounds up into you. You ride the wave as he fucks you through it. Your arms entangle in each other and your bodies slap together, sweaty and panting. Your incoherent words and moans heighten with each thrust.
He makes you feel alive and pleasured in a way that you have never felt before. It is intoxicating. 
As you start to come down from the high you feel him getting close to his own release but he is still reserved and careful with you. Through gritted teeth he tries to keep his pace steady and builds you back up, never quite letting you recover.  
“Joel, Don’t… don’t hold back.” You manage to get out of your lips. You stare into him with hooded eyes and can only imagine how fucked out you look. He brings one of his hands up to the side of your face and strokes his thumb tenderly across your cheekbone.
“Ok, baby.” 
He leans into you and in a sweeping motion he twists and lays you back into the adjacent couch cushion. It is more of an oversized loveseat and not very ideal. He barely loses contact with your body as he positions himself above you. You can feel his weighty cock press into you and pin you in place as he leans forward, crowding you in the cramped confines of the couch.  
His mouth is on yours; rough and messy. He bites at your lip as he pulls away and reigns in his focus. Your legs clamp around his sides and your arms hold onto his neck. Your fingers snake into his hair and you grab hold of him. He slides his hands down your sides so he can hold you close as he resumes fucking into you. 
With this leverage, he somehow hits you deeper than before. His cock kisses the deepest parts of you again and again. Your sides bruise as he grips you harder. All his gentle inhibitions have been replaced with raw, unhinged furor. 
His pace quickens as you can feel him coming undone inside you. He is in a frenzy fucking you hard and deep and his grunts get louder. The heavy feel of him dragging out of you and shoving back with such force has you crying out his name along with a steady stream of expletives. 
You are so close but you beg your body to hold on, you don’t want the feeling to end. You want to live in this moment forever being trapped under Joel and being filled with his cock. You moan out his name as the second orgasm explodes through your body.  
“Fuck, baby..” his body quivers as he tries to hold out long enough for you to peak. 
He suddenly sits up and groans as he drags completely out of you. You whimper at the loss of him inside you and his wet, leaking cock slaps onto your belly. He strokes himself once with a heavy fist and grunts as hot ropes of cum spurt onto you. You relish being branded in his release. It coats your stomach and drips messily onto your cunt. You revel in the last fleeting moments of your orgasm being shared with Joel’s.   
He languidly strokes himself a few more times until he is empty. His chest rises and falls quickly as he breathes shallowly. His muscles weaken as the high from his climax rolls through him. 
He leans forward and presses his forehead to yours. The sticky mess spreads between your bellies as his body pushes into you. It's lewd and you love it. You love how filthy Joel makes you feel. All you can smell is sweat and sex and Joel.
He presses a kiss to your forehead and then sits back to catch his breath. Your bodies untangle and he goes back to his original spot on the couch. You stay laying back lazily with a leg draped casually over Joel and the other bent at the knee. You still need a moment for your legs to be in any condition to work properly. 
One of his hands rests on your thigh and he grazes it with comforting drags of his fingers. He doesn’t say anything but the gentle contact from him is welcome. The connection you share now is so contrasting to when he was railing you. It is a side of Joel that feels like a privilege granted to you.
The calm is interrupted by a vibration of his phone. Joel reluctantly picks it up to look at the screen and groans with disappointment. He answers it but doesn’t stop rubbing you gently while he conducts his business. 
“Fred, I’ll be there in 20.” 
You can’t make out the other end entirely but you can detect a man's voice. He doesn’t sound happy.
“Yeah, I’m running behind. Your house is next.” Joel tries to placate him. More chatter and you start to feel bad for holding him up. 
You move off of Joel and make your way towards the bathroom to wipe up the mess on your belly and grab your silky bathrobe off the door.  
“Ok, Fred. Be there soon.” You hear him hang up and toss his phone down with a grumble. He turns in your direction as he stands up to pull on his jeans. 
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I gotta’ go.” His tone is solemn now. You pop out of the bathroom and catch him using his undershirt to wipe up his mess. It’s gross but you like seeing him being comfortable being a typical, nasty man in your presence. Points for being resourceful.
“I heard. Didn’t mean to hold you up.” 
He glares at you and smirks as you make your way back to him. 
“Didn’t mind one bit.” He takes a few steps towards you to meet you halfway and kisses you on the top of your head while he wraps his arms around you. He breathes you in with his embrace and it feels so perfect being wrapped up by Joel. A final moment before it all ends and he pushes away from you, reluctantly. 
“And s’not a big deal. Snow aint going anywhere.” He says as he puts his flannel on, sans the thermal, and starts to button back up. 
His messy hair is mostly dry now and even more unruly with wild curls. You feel that fire inside you building again. It’s insatiable. You don’t want him to go. 
He laces up his boots and gathers his things. 
“Ok. I’m gonna hop in the shower.” 
“Ok, baby.” You exchange a final look and go your separate ways. You feel his eyes on you as you return to the bathroom. 
When you go back to the living room he is gone. All that remains is his dirty shirt and an empty coffee cup. 
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Sunday Night (Joel POV)
After a few more hours of plowing Joel returns home. 
He takes a shower just long enough to wash the sweat and stink of exhaust from his body.
He pours himself a whiskey and collapses on the couch to relax. 
His body is weary, but his mind is still firing. It has not stopped. He has to face the reality that he is falling for you, whether or not he should be. 
He pulls out his phone and stares at it blankly. Hesitating. He scrolls through his contacts until he finds the one that he has been avoiding. He knocks back his drink and sends the text.
Joel: Tess. We need to talk.
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Thank you to @magpiepills for beta-ing 🧡
Love to my ladies that mean everything @magpiepills @legendary-pink-dot @youandmeand5bucks @exquisiteserotonin @for-a-longlongtime @sparklefarts38 @pink-whiskey-woman @redhotkitchen 🧡
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im-sleepdeprived · 3 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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gwennybriggs · 3 days
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Abracadabra:
Link if you want it:
Or! You can read it here :)
Word count: 1,475
Inspired by a line from a Chappell Roan song that’s been stuck in my head for weeks.
It’s a little spicy, but not too spicy! I’m not super comfortable writing smut, but decided to try it out again since it’s been a few years. Enjoy, cuties!
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The birds were chirping and the sun was shining bright when you woke up that morning; you knew it was going to be a wonderful day. You rolled out of bed, pulled on your skirt and blouse, and waltzed out the door to make a stop at the coffee shop down the street. It had become your normal Friday routine to stop and grab a hot chocolate for yourself, and a coffee for your favorite coworker, Melissa Schemmenti. In turn, Melissa would bring a danish for you and a muffin for herself. You weren’t exactly sure when or how it happened, but you looked forward to it every week.
It had been a bit of a stressful week with state testing and the kids were over it just as much as the teachers were. Janine convinced Ava to allow her to set up a talent show as a ‘carrot’ for the end of testing week.
“Carrot? What the hell you mean, carrot? Ain’t nobody lookin’ for a vegetable, girl.”
Janine rubbed her temples, “You know, like when you put a carrot in front of a horse to keep them moving. It’s a little motivation to get people through the week.”
“Whatever. You can have a talent show, just make sure Melissa stays off the stage with her horrific impressions. I simply cannot listen to her butcher The Godfather again.”
You prepared all week to share your magic tricks with the school. Jacob caught wind and asked if you would like to join him in his magic act, claiming that your combined expertise would win you more applause. You reluctantly agreed and spent all of Thursday evening with him at Melissa’s house practicing. It wouldn’t have been so bad if the redhead had been there, but she spent the evening with Barbara instead.
You could smell Melissa’s perfume before you even stepped foot in the lounge and it made you smile. During your first year at Abbott you developed the tiniest crush on her, but at this point, you were flat out in love with the woman. You didn’t exactly hide the fact that you liked her that way, but you never said it out loud either. Melissa had told you she was bisexual but leaned more towards men fairly early on in your friendship when you told her you were a lesbian. After sharing a bottle of wine together you asked her what her type was.
“Big burly men with beards who can take care of me or pretty little ladies who with let me take care of them. What about you? So I know what to look out for for ya,” she responded with a chuckle.
You fought yourself not to reply with a simple ‘you’ and gave her a vague description of herself instead. She raised an eyebrow but didn’t push. The two of you shared some casual flirting over time, but you just chalked it up to her treating you like a close friend.
The lounge was already buzzing when you walked in, everyone talking about what their students were doing for their acts or which teachers signed up. You crossed the room to set your things down before walking over to Melissa to exchange goods. She beamed up at you when you placed your hand on her shoulder and her cup on the table in front of her.
“I’ve been looking forward to this all week, thanks doll face,” she sipped her coffee and handed you a raspberry danish.
“Likewise! Thanks, pumpkin.” You winked at her and took your seat across the room with Janine, Gregory and Jacob, completely missing Melissa’s coy smile in response to the nickname.
The bell rang and everyone gathered their belongings to start the day. You and Melissa were the last ones in the room as you moved things in the fridge to fit your lunch. She came up behind you, resting her hand on your hip for balance as she leaned into the fridge with you to move her containers. You froze at the contact and mentally begged yourself not to blush. As she leaned further down, her hand slid over to your ass. Your eyes were glued to her cleavage, beautifully illuminated by the refrigerator light. You quickly turned your head when she caught you staring.
She stood up, her hand still slightly splayed your ass. Your face was beet red. “No need to steal glances hon, all you gotta do is ask,” she clicked her tongue and made her way out the door, swaying her hips dramatically. She knew you were watching.
More than a little flustered, you splashed cold water on your face and left to tend to your students. The hours ticked by and you struggled to focus on anything other than the feeling of Melissa’s hand on your backside. You were looking forward to spending lunch with her and Barbara, but Jacob insisted you practice with him one more time before the talent show. Between bites of pasta you made coins disappear and reappear from behind Jacob’s ear and cheered him on as he mastered revealing the chosen card.
The entire school gathered to watch the staff and students perform at the end of the day. You took a seat next to Melissa, waiting for your turn.
“You got any hidden talents you’re gonna share with us, red?” You poked at her side.
“Nah, can’t share my talents here kid. I wouldn’t be allowed back on school grounds,” she smirked. “Just joshin’, Ava forbade me from doing impressions so I’m stuck in the crowd. I’m excited to see what youse cooked up for your act though, Jacob hasn’t shut up about it.”
“Ha, I’m sure he hasn’t.”
Janine introduced your act and you followed Jacob onto the stage. The two of you played off of each other’s tricks with the crowd ooh-ing and aww-ing. You had always enjoyed tricking people with sleight of hand, but you enjoyed it even more when you were able to fool an entire auditorium. When the four minutes of fame were over you returned to your seat next to Melissa. She nodded her approval and continued to watch the show.
A few minutes later you excused yourself to use to restroom. The bathroom was empty and you did your business quickly. As you opened your stall door you jumped at the sight of Melissa sitting on the counter. You hadn’t even heard her come in.
“Oh Jesus!”
“It’s actually Melissa, but I get that one a lot.” She slid off the counter to stand next to you as you washed your hands.
“Very funny,” you rolled your eyes.
She moved closer, her breasts brushing your arm. “Yeah, but you like it when I’m cheesy like that.”
Your breathing hitched. “I d-do,” you stuttered and melting at the close proximity.
“So, tell me what else you like, gorgeous.” She was nearly straddling your right leg. Her eyes filled with fire as she brought her hand up to your cheek and traced a finger along your jaw line.
You stifled a whimper and bit your lip, unable to speak without making a fool of yourself. She moved even closer, now actually straddling your leg, you could feel the warmth of her. You placed your hands on the counter to keep yourself upright.
“I know you like magic.” She nuzzled her face into your hair and lowered her voice to a whisper, “I’ve got a wand and a rabbit.” She punctuated her sentence with a light nibble to your earlobe. You gasped; a cold chill ran up your spine and you couldn’t hide the shiver. Her hand on your left hip pulled you in between her legs so that her core was pressed firmly against your thigh.
You squeezed your eyes shut, you wanted her to ruin you right then and there, but the school day wasn’t over and the talent show was about to let out.
“Mel, I want this,” you whined and guided her free hand down to your soaked panties, wanting her to feel exactly how bad you wanted, needed, her. “But we can’t do that here, not now at least. Like you said, we wouldn’t be allowed back on a school grounds.”
She lifted your skirt so you could feel her own wetness through her leggings against your bare skin. “My house, eight o’clock.” Melissa kissed you with such fervor that it made you want to go back on your words. “Bring whatever other magic tricks you have up your sleeve, or in your nightstand drawer,” she winked and playfully smacked your ass as she walked away.
You tried desperately to gather your thoughts and some semblance of composure, your mind racing with the image of Melissa playing with her toys- and you. The redhead was going to be the death of you yet.
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scoops404 · 18 hours
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I'm in a bad mood, so to make myself happy here are some fics I've been enjoying in the last few months, in no particular order. Some of these are incomplete. Please read tags on each individual story before reading <3
The Remedy to Everything - by @simply-smitten - this is such a good fic. When I was betaing months and months ago before this even came out, I told Smitten that this is going to be a new classic. She told me the ending last night and I am GATEKEEPING
Warm, Like Starlight - also by Smitten. She's like, talented or whatever. (this is a joke, I love Smitten)
Every Mountain Tells a Story by @czargasm - you know those AUs where you get sucked in and you know you're reading something by an expert? Yeah, that's this fic. And also it's just plain good. Still updating, but get in on this one early
Our Own Terrible Way by Chelsey Czargasm - this is epic. ANF to DNF pipeline is so believable and Chelsey really pulls it off. Good smut, good jealous, good banter. What more do you want?
what if we just by @alittledizzy - GUYS! When I read this it hit me so hard, like a truck, this fic was so necessary and so needed and it was like a balm to my soul (as many dizzy fics are and have been for many many years, yeah I have loved her a long time)
soft sunlight & soothed dogs by wooowriter - have I ever cared much for hybrid fics before? no, not really. Do I care now? Yeah, and it's this fic's fault. Realistic world building, realistic feelings. It's good shit.
fucked up and down bad by Dizzy and Alison, my home dogs. I got to beta read this one and I screamed the entire way through. It's so good. I really enjoyed it!
In Safety There is Bravery by @gottagetshiver - i just-- yeah. I liked this one, what can I say? Shiver is awesome and this fic is too.
going through the motions by @hardtofindneuro - neuro has to be next to Shiver, that's just the way the world works. This fic is good so good but extra warning to take the tags seriously. Neuro always hits that angst HARD, but it's definitely worth it <3
Okay I have to go back to work so I'll add more later :D
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masterfuldoodler · 2 days
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wait guys actually! I have a great idea! Instead of feeling bad for reblogging our own art why don't we do a thing where we reblog older pieces/art that didn't get much attention/whatever you want and give commentary on it! Talk about what was fun to draw, what was hard, any interesting stories surrounding the making of it! Behind the scenes! pls guys that would be so fun to read I would LOVE to see that let's do it!
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