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webslingingslasher · 2 months

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Begin Again

an: this has been a long time in the making and I think it's a favorite of mine.

Pairing: Peter Parker X Mean!Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, enemies to lovers.

CW: harsh language, mental breakdowns, mentions of cheating (not peter)

Word Count: 24K

Summary: You've lived next door to Peter your whole life and the last nine years you've detested him. Now you're going through a breakup and it's nice to know someone's awake with you. Even if it is Peter Parker.

Breakups suck.

That’s it. That’s the whole message. There’s nothing else to add, except you’d never let yourself love again. It’s not like you didn’t know it wasn’t going to happen, you were aware the entire year what it would lead into, but hasn’t every girl sworn, at least once, they were the exception to a boys rule?

Natalie Greene’s voice echoed in your mind, “don’t get involved with a senior boy. They move on and you’re left picking up the pieces in homeroom.” You didn’t listen. You got involved and it was a good year, you knew he was going to college and when he left the break up was inevitable. Still, it didn’t hurt as hard until three months into the school year he called and said he met someone else.

You wish you weren’t so kind and understanding to him.

You called Natalie Greene the second it ended, she picked up and that angel voice of hers shined through the phone. She asked ‘hello?’ three times before you sobbed. You could feel the empathy in her tone, ‘he ended it, huh?’ All you could do is squeak back, ‘stay right there babe, I’m on my way with the break up kit.’

She showed up with a stray grocery bag. “alright,” she stated, hands on her hips.

“I got ice cream, a super soft blanket, movies - of all genres, face masks, a lighter-”

“Why do you have a lighter?”

Natalie rolls her eyes with a goofy grin, “to burn stuff, duh.“

The gesture was nice, but you couldn’t focus on the movie.

It felt like everytime you blinked there were tears that would find themselves tracking down your cheeks, you sniffled occasionally and blankly stared at the screen; flashbacks clouding your mind. Each kiss, each laugh, each touch, every fight and makeup, the first time you felt someone's hips melt into yours.

A supercut of every moment.

You were replaying a thousand things and all he was thinking about was the new girl under him, you were angry at everything all at once. Angry at yourself for letting yourself get hurt and feeling this much pain, because you knew it was coming, it was the whole agreement when it started. Angry at him for not breaking his promise and loving you anyway, angry at him for not telling you he’d wait for you and everything would be okay.

Angry that you hate him and yourself but more angry how quickly you’d fall back into him if he called.

“I knew this was gonna happen, Nat.” You sniff, a cry bubbles from your throat, “so why does it hurt so bad?”

Your friend frowns, she’s no savor to heartbreak. She’s been where you are more times than one could take, she still loves with her whole heart and you don’t know if you could ever do it again. Natalie wraps her arms around your shoulders while you shake with a sob, you cry into her knowing you're matting her blonde hair but she just pats you and holds you close.

“Because even though the ending was coming it didn’t feel real until the book closed. And maybe a little bit because you hoped he’d change his mind.”

You gasp, “how do I get past this? Nat, it feels..”

You’re tugged into her so tight you can feel her collarbone against your cheek, “like you’re dying? Yeah, that happens. But, you’ll live. It doesn’t feel like it now, but the day will come where you can think about him, smile, and thank him for the opportunity.”

You snort, “for breaking my heart?”

Natalie Greene holds you as tight as she can, “for making you grow.”

Your shoulders feel like they’re falling behind you as you inch along the hallway, everything feels heavy. Your feet are like lead blocks, and your heart feels like it’s been tied down with an anchor. It hurts more to know he’s not aching like this, he has someone new to keep him busy.

Blinking at your locker you fight back a yawn, two weeks after heartbreak and it still feels the same. You sleep like shit, tossing and turning and weird dreams when you finally dozed off. The one thing that’s helped keep your mind away from him, was your neighbor. Every night, at 3:02 am, on the dot, you hear the same movements.

A window slams shut, two soft hops on the floor and three bumps against the wall.

For six nights straight you kept count, it was methodical. A nightly routine, you weren’t sure what he was doing, but it was something. It made your mind wonder, your most recent theory was that he was a smoker; weed, cigarettes or whatever, and he would blow smoke out his window before landing in bed.

Maybe his bed was against your wall and that’s why you heard so many small knocks.

Last night you stayed up, you waited and right on the minute, like you expected, you heard a window slam shut. A small grin crossed your face, not at him, but at the idea of a constant. You lost your reliable figure, he’s thousands of miles away with his own new person, but tonight, and for the last seven nights you’ve had something to rely on. Something that couldn’t go anywhere.

You blink and suddenly you’re staring at your open locker, you don’t even remember putting in the combination. On autopilot you grab what you need for your next three classes and shrug your backpack down. Lately, it seemed like everything moved in slow motion.

“Are we ready to go to Flash’s party friday and makeout with a rando or are we still numb to everything?”

Natalie smiles at your figure, when you slouch and give her a “hey, Nat,” her blonde hair bounces as she nods her head understandingly, “still dead to the world, understandable.”

“At this point I’d do heroin to feel something,” your deadstare makes her think you might be serious. “Tell you what, if you’re still this miserable in six weeks, we’ll do it together.”

Your eyebrow quirks, “you’d do heroin with me if I’m still this miserable?”

Natalie Greene’s hand sticks out, her eyes ferocious. You know immediately she has something up her sleeve.

“Six weeks, starting today.”

You have nothing else to go on except the nightly wake up call and Natalie Greene’s plan.

“Six weeks.”

It’s solidified with a handshake, your fingertips turn white in her hold.

WEEK ONE.

Natalie Greene had talked you into going to Flash’s party, not to makeout with anyone, she quickly withdrew that from the table. You had been very hesitant at first, pushing at every restraint and reason to why you shouldn’t go and she stopped you right there. Manicured hand and all, petite and poised, she stopped your path.

“Here’s why you should go: get fucking wrecked, absolutely smashed and let it all out. I promise you, babe, it feels so, so good.”

“You think that will make me feel better? Getting hammered at a house party on a friday night?”

“I’ll take care of you for the night, okay? I’ll get you drunk and you can cry or scream or whatever you want. Let go of anything you’re holding back, that’s why you should go.”

You look her over, she’s been your rock the last three years in the school. Natalie is different, she protects and cares for herself like she does someone else. She also gives out more of her heart than she should, but she appreciates the burn it leaves. She tells you it’s one more ache preparing her for the one who would never make it hurt again.

If Natalie Greene says it’ll help, you’ll listen.

“You’ll drive me home and take care of me the next morning? Hungover and all?”

A denim jacket covered shoulder shrugs, “I think it’s time I repay you for all these years.”

For the first time in two weeks a real smile crosses your face, it’s small but it’s there.

Flashforward two days later, you’re eight drinks in and feeling like you’re flying.

You sway against your friend, “and he,” you hiccup, “he said he was like, soooo in love with me but then like, fuckin four days later,” it took you a moment to hold up the correct number on your hand, “boom, no boyfriend.” Natalie tried to hold back a laugh but her cheeks blew up when she let it escape, you pulled the most comical ‘what the fuck?’ face.

“I mean who the fuck does that- a sick person. That’s who! And- And you know what?” you hiccup, “I thought I’d be sad, but I just kinda hate him, does that make me bad?”

“Nah, I had some that killed me inside and some that I just shrugged off. Some moved in waves. One minute I’d say ‘fuck him!’ and the next I’d be overwhelmed with sadness because I didn’t have anyone to hold me anymore.”

You blink at her words and swallow the rest of your cup, you hadn’t thought about that part yet. Not having anyone to call yours anymore, that’s the hardest hitting part. You really, really wanted to call him. Just one more time, maybe he misses you just as much, maybe he doesn’t know how to say sorry, maybe he’s waiting for you to call.

“I should call him, right?” Your hands fumble at your pockets, your friend panics and grabs at your arms. “No! No, no, no! You absolutely should not call him!” You whine, “but what if he-”

Natalie grabs you tight, it makes you look at her confused. Her tone takes a sharp turn, she breaks through your drunken stupor in a second.

“He’s not. He’s not thinking about you, he’s not missing you, he’s not sitting around wishing you’d call him, he’s just not. He broke up with you, you don’t do that if you still care. Don’t do that to yourself, it ended mature. You have to be mature now.”

Brutal honesty. It puts everything in perspective.

He didn’t miss you, and that… really, really hurt.

Natalie was right, it comes in waves. Because there comes that sadness, it starts with small blinks and suddenly fat tears skip down your cheeks. “You’re right! He, he doesn’t-” you take harsh breaths, for the first time in two weeks you had a full breakdown. Everything you held back bottled over, you didn’t know how you could hold in so much hurt.

“Okay, okay. Let’s go, we can cry in the car but not here.”

Your breath shook the entire way to the car, the moment you sat in the passenger seat you cried. Your voice cracked, “he said he loved me!” Natalie nodded, cranking the engine, “And I’m sure he did, babe. Sometimes these things run their course and it’s no one's fault.”

It went like that the entire car ride, until she stopped at a McDonald's and got you a milkshake so you could focus on getting the liquid up the straw instead of saying the same three things on a loop. Once you got fries in your mouth the thought of him was erased from your mind, choosing to sing loudly and stick your head out the window on the way back.

Stumbling and giggling quietly at the late hour while you swayed on the walk to your door, you stretched freely and yawned when you stumbled in. Home alone for the weekend, just how it should be. “I’m getting naked,” you started stripping while walking to your room to change into pajamas, your heart lurches when you see one of his shirts.

You flop backwards on your bed, the room slightly spins and you close your eyes tight trying to ground yourself. Wriggling into the sheets you sigh, and yawn again. Your head buries into a pillow and sleep is imminent.

“Sleepy?”

Natalie Greene stands in the doorway with water and some advil, you smile and pat your bed, inviting her to join.

“Natalie Greene, you are so great, did you know that?”

Your friend laughs, you nuzzle into her hand while she strokes your hair, “I did, but a reminder is always nice. Go to sleep, babe. I’ll make toast in the morning.”

Her gentle touch makes it easy, you yawn one more time. Your voice flutters while you talk into sleep.

“Do me a favor?”

“Anything,” she whispers. You don’t think he ever loved you this soft.

“Make sure he gets home for me.”

Natalie Greene asked who but all she received were soft snores.

The birds were screaming the earth back awake.

At least that’s how it felt, your ears were ringing and there was a dull, present thud in your head. The sunlight has never been so bright, you hold your eyes shut but the ache gets louder and you can’t get comfortable.

There’s two pills and half a glass of water waiting for you, god bless Natalie Greene.

“Good morning, sunshine!” You wince and choke on your gulp of water, a knife has pierced your eardrum. “Oh my god, everything is on dial eleven, I think I’m dying.”

“How are you feeling? Besides the obvious, I mean.”

She means about him, you take a moment to really think about it.

“I think… I think I’m doing okay.”

Your friend smiles and throws her hair into a ponytail, “good, I’m making breakfast. Come join.”

After ten minutes and infinite pep talk you rise on shaky knees, stumbling towards your door and barely making it to the couch where you spread wide and gulped for air. Your friend snorted at your exaggeration over her shoulder and carefully walked towards you with a piping mug of tea.

Sitting up you bring a blanket over your shoulders, you squint at her before taking the handle. Taking a sip while you turn the TV on, searching for a midmorning throwaway show. A re-run of The Wendy Williams Show wins, you rest your head on a cushion and stare blankly at the screen. Natalie Greene humming up a tune in the kitchen.

You hadn’t even checked your phone yet, “what time is it?”

“Noon thirty.”

Your eyes widen, “my god,” you mumble to yourself.

Listening to Wendy your eyes lull shut and suddenly you're sinking back into sleep, you roll over and smack your dry lips. Until your friend is kicking at your shin with two plates in her hands, stacked full of the breakfast nines.

Your queasy stomach grumbles and any drowsiness is ripped away with hunger. Nearly drooling, you stuff a piece of french toast in your mouth and moan, “Nat, you’re the greatest thing I got.” She bounces her shoulder into yours, “I know.”

You fall into silence while you scarf breakfast down, booing and applauding when deemed necessary by Wendy. Leaning back you rest your hands over your full belly and pat gently. Swiping your tongue over your gums for any crumbs, you sigh happily.

“Hey, what did you mean last night? You said to let you know if he got home safely.”

You wave her off, “drunk stupidness, I hear my neighbor every night around the same time moving around. This last week, I dunno, it felt nice knowing someone else was up too?”

“Have you ever-”

Both your necks turn to look at the front door then back at each other, the knocking that caught your attention continues.

“Who’s-”

“Did you-”

You swallow and stand up, not so shaky anymore. Looking through the peephole your forehead hits the door at the sight of said neighbor, you know what they say about devils and appearing, groaning you take a moment to collect yourself and open the door.

“What do you want, penis?”

Peter Parker in all his glory, is knocking at your door with a plate of… cookies?

Neighbors forever, close pals never. You’d played together as kids, mostly elementary age but since you were eight you’ve had a disdain for Peter Parker. You’re not sure where it went wrong, but just looking at him you wanted to roll your eyes.

“I was going to say, ‘wow, how could a guy ever dump you?’ but now, I’d say that’s how.”

Normally that wouldn’t hurt, but the recent circumstances made it a cheap shot.

“Is this your sorry attempt to be a rebound? Because if it is, I want to make it extremely clear I’d rather eat glass than-”

The plate is shoved into your face, “May had me bring these over, she said your mom told her you’ve been a weepy, miserable mess because some dickhead thought he found someone better.”

You huff at him, your fingers wrap around his wristwatch as you pull it down, all you heard was weepy and miserable.

“I know you wouldn’t know anything about someone loving you but-”

“Is that Peter B. Parker?”

Natalie Greene reminds you of your hangover in record timing, you wince at her shriek. Peter gives a polite, dare you say charming (?) smile. It makes you fight back a gag, “hello, Natalie Greene.” Her eyes flash from his, to the plate, to the cracked open door across the hall and she gets a wicked grin.

The person you’ve hated and bickered with the most is suddenly the one you listen out for in the middle of the night. The look on her face, the glance she shared with you, proved she knew.

“Cookies?” Natalie nudges your arm, “he brought cookies and he’s right across the hallway, how nice.”

Peter’s oblivious to her tone, he has his goofy smile on and it makes you seeth. He’s always so god damn happy, it’s annoying.

“Well, actually, my aunt made them. But I am delivering, so I can accept some praise.”

She laughs, full on cackles and nudges you again.

“You know, in all the times you talked about Peter you never mentioned how funny he was!”

You don’t know what she’s playing at but you’re shutting it down immediately.

Peter looks at you, he seems almost hopeful and you have to settle the urge to toss the plate to the ground. “You talk about me?”

You cross your arms and sneer, “don’t worry, nothing good.”

His smile drops, “yeah, sorry. I don’t know why..” his curls bounce as he gently shakes his head before pushing the glass into your chest. “Here, eat as many as it takes to feel somewhat okay again.”

You grip the plate and look down, they’re your favorite.

“We, um. We have more over here, so if you want more. Or if you wanna hang out or something I’m here, so…”

Peter’s never been a friend like this before and it was some pity party you wanted no part of now.

“It’s a breakup. I’m sure I can manage without you just fine.”

His eyebrows turn in, “right. I just thought- nevermind, enjoy the cookies.”

Natalie gives him a sympathetic frown and sulks back inside, you keep your glare on his figure until he reaches his door. As you’re about to retreat he stops in the doorway, “for what it’s worth, I think he’s stupid and he’s gonna realize what he lost when it’s way too late.”

It’s almost nice, sometimes it sucks when the person you’re supposed to hate has human peek through their armor.

Too bad you’re more guarded than ever.

“Well, then. It’s a good thing you’re not worth much.”

Maybe it’s his resilience that troubles you, no matter how hard you push him away or beat him down with words he’ll pick himself back up and hand your words back in a package of self reflection.

Today is no exception, Peter flashes you a sad smile, this one actually is filled with pity.

“I’m sorry you’re hurting,” you didn’t have a chance to fire back. His door was already shut.

Heartache throbbed but the cookies were damn good.

On your third, you down half a cup of milk. You reach for a fourth and Natalie hasn’t said one word. Instead she cleaned the kitchen and packed up her overnight bag, before settling next to you for an episode of Jerry Springer and her own deserved treat.

“So, do tell, my friend. Is Peter the one you wanted to know was home safe?”

Deny till death.

“No way, I’m talking about Mr. Harrington, he’s like a hundred years old.”

Natalie takes her time chewing and swallowing, “your hundred year old neighbor is up in the middle of the night?”

It’s dumb to lie, you and her know the truth.

You shrug and take a fifth cookie, “he may have a routine, I dunno.”

Your friend hums, “I just thought it may be Peter, cause you share a wall and all.”

Gagging at his name you shake it off, “Gross! It’s bad enough knowing the plate these were on were in his hands.” It takes you a second but you’re able to plow through another bite.

“I just… why do we hate Peter so much?”

You don’t know, you think you blocked it out. Every time you look at him a weird feeling bubbles up and it makes you want to scream, cry, fight and hug it out with him in one second. It’s easier to bark at him than confront him about your feelings.

“I don’t know. He’s just a pest to me, every time I turn around he’s there. And I swear to god he spilled the beans about that party last year.”

Natalie Greene knows three things to be true.

One: Peter Parker likes you, you just don’t know it yet.

“What if you talked to him?”

Cookie crumbs fall over your shirt as you talk, “I’m sorry, what?”

Two: You like Peter Parker, you just don’t know it yet.

“If you need me and I’m not around, if you need someone to support you through this and I can’t be here, promise me you’ll knock on his door.”

You scoff at the idea, “yeah, sure.” she’s not very confident you mean it.

“Seriously, promise me right now if I can’t be there for you, you’ll ask him.”

She was serious, something in her tone made you shift and agree. It’s not like she’d go anywhere, Natalie Green was your lifeline.

“Alright! If you aren’t around and it’s literally life or death, I’ll ask… him.”

Three: Things get worse before they get better, you just don’t know it yet.

WEEK TWO.

Your mornings always started the same, a routine was important to you. It was consistent. It was wake up, hit up the bathroom, change, yawn and rub your eyes through breakfast before leaving to thrive in silence before school.

Today, when leaving, right as you’re pocketing your keys, your neighbor speaks out.

“Hey.”

You freeze, it’s rare you run into Peter in the mornings. You figure he leaves way earlier, or later than you. But when you do, you ignore each other with silence. You really don’t like the sudden change.

“How are you doing?”

You wonder if he heard you crying last night, you thought you got rid of it after the party. You didn’t understand how you could be happy one moment and miserable the next. What made it worse was when 3:02 am hit and you heard his window slam, your sniffles settled.

“Like I was dumped, thanks for the reminder.”

Your foot hits the first step when he calls out, “and the cookies?”

Biting your bottom lip you turn, it really was a nice gesture. You may not like him, but you loved May and she’s the one that put in all that hard work. Peter lights up when you face him, if he had a tail he’d start wagging it. It makes you bite down on your cheek, he doesn’t deserve unprovoked rage.

“They were really good,” you take three steps before turning back around.

“And, I uh, took your advice. Ate the whole plate, I mean.”

Peter fumbles, his key chain drops but he stays looking at you. His thumb shoots behind him to point at his door, “we have like, twenty left. Want some more?”

You shake your head softly, “maybe later?” Peter nods exuberantly, “yeah, yeah. I’ll bring them over.”

You curl your lip up and stomp down the steps, “thanks for the warning, penis!”

This was it.

This was your worst nightmare.

Not only did things get shuffled around until you were sitting next to Peter at dinner, where you made it a point to scoot your chair away from him when his shoulder touched yours and immediately swiped the area clean- But now you blinked blankly at your dinner while your mom droned on and on and on about the guy who dumped you. It didn’t matter if it was good or bad, you just wanted her to stop.

“And he was so sweet, wasn’t he? Honey, are you sure he hasn’t reached out? It’s not too late to call him, maybe if you-” May didn’t deserve to see you upset, and it kills you that Peter saw that emotion. Your mom didn’t even deserve it, you were so sick of trying to keep it together.

Your chair screeches with how quick you jump out of your seat.

“He doesn’t give a shit, he dumped me! So why do you think he’d call? He doesn’t want me, I mean he’s made that clear right?” Your eyes shoot to May’s, “I’m right, right? You don’t break up with someone if you still care, or want them, right?”

Tears haze your vision, “he ended it with me mom, and you know why? It’s cause he found a new girl! He fucking-” water rushes down your cheeks but you don’t stop, “he,” you collapse on the word, you can’t get a good inhale on breath.

“He left me to pick up the pieces, that’s all he did.” It clicked full motion, he left you behind and ended it. He got a fresh start and you were left trying to hold it together, like how it was, how it was supposed to be.

You sob, your chest has never felt so tight. Shaky breaths fade into sharp inhales, you can’t fucking breathe. Gasping you put a hand over your heart, you know in the back of your mind it’s a panic attack but all you feel is imminent death.

Peter stands and blocks your body with his, you don’t know what’s happening but you’re trying to get away. Each step you take backwards he takes one forwards until you're wheezing in your room, your ears are ringing and it feels like a heart attack is in approach. Your eyes squeeze shut and in an instant you feel calmer, it’s not because of your sudden blink. It’s because Peter has his hands over your ears pressing in, your back against the wall and front against his chest.

It’s the last place you want to be but you’re angry, and he’s there, and it’s all coming out.

You’re able to breathe but at what cost? You grip Peter’s shirt as tight as you could and wail into his chest, it’s the first time you’ve ever actually felt him against you. He’s more sturdy than you thought, as you push more and more weight on him he doesn’t stagger one bit. His arms held you to him, keeping steady until you’d push him away.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you coughed the words into his shirt, you held tighter when his only response was resting his chin on your head. You apologized and cried until you ran out of tears and your breaths were nothing but sharp inhales.

When reality hits and you realize you've been crying into Peter’s hold for minutes you push him away and wipe your nose. Avoiding his eyes, you look to the carpet, you have a fresh cry glow and mindset, it’s the good kind of emotional numb.

“I, um, I still have those cookies?”

Those being his choice of words after a troubling breakdown was warming, it made you feel like you weren’t so crazy. Or at least, Peter didn’t see you as crazy, which when thinking about didn’t mean much.

You can’t help but laugh, it’s so loud and opposite of every other emotion you spilled tonight it makes him jump, you see him setting up for the attack. The moment you snap at him and call him a weirdo for cornering you and throwing himself on you.

Tonight, you were full of surprises.

“Yeah,” you nod your head and wipe your nose one last time, “I’d love to come over for cookies.”

You had to look away from his smile, it was too blinding.

You broke the rule, you went lurking and hurt your own feelings. She’s all over his instagram, and she’s pretty. He’s all over hers, dating back to five months ago.

You do a double take, five months?

He had been cheating on you for months before he ended it. You feel sick. He told you he loved you while he was in bed with another girl. You felt so much rage inside you couldn’t hold it in, Natalie was too far away and Peter’s already seen you at your worst.

You move without thinking, slamming your fist on his door.

Wide eyes open it, Peter would be lying if he said he wasn’t scared he was the subject of attack. You swerve past him, if you were in a cartoon, steam would be billowing from your ears. You didn’t get angry often, and you’ve never felt upset enough to punch someone, but all you could think about was screaming and slamming your fist into the wall.

“I hate him, I fucking hate him so fucking much. If you ever hear me crying I need you to come over and tell me I’m absolutely pathetic for crying over a fucking cheater.”

While he’s glad you’re not there to yell at him, his heart sinks for you.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It was right in front of my face, too. She’d been claiming him since the second week of school. I’ve been a fool, god, I fucking hate him. I hate him so much I… I want to break something.”

Peter eyes his science notebook, he doesn’t have anything for you to break, but he has something that will make enough noise to drown out the voices. He grabs it and holds it out, you gently take it giving him a confused look.

“Wack it. Beat the absolute shit out of it on the counter.”

You look unsure, you don’t want to ruin his things, even if you don’t like him.

“Right on the edge, go on, do it.” His egging you on makes you follow his command, it’s gentle.

“Harder,” you test it.

“Harder,” you give a smack, it makes a popping sound and you jump, it feels good.

“Like you mean it, like you need it.” You do it again, it’s louder. You strike down without instruction, Peter starts barking at you, it makes you angrier.

“Harder, don’t be so weak!”

He hit the right nerve, you can’t stop, you’re moving so quick and using so much force the spine starts to rip from the cardboard. It feels good destroying something, it makes you beat the laminate harder. Loud cracks echoing from the walls.

You heave for air, every bit of force directed into your diminished trust. You yell between each blow.

“Fucking!”

“Piece!”

“Of!”

“Shit!”

You start to slow down, Peter’s notebook is fucked. You feel bad. Gasping for air when you’re done, Peter gives you a head nod, “better?”

You nod, “lots. Sorry about your book.” He doesn’t look bothered in the slightest, “it’s a good excuse to get a new one, I hate green.” You peer over the contents in the pages, “that’s a lie, everyone knows science is green.” Peter laughs, he nods like he’s saying ‘you got me there.’ “Doesn’t mean I like it though.”

Looking down at the notebook, you peer up at Peter. He looks soft, the sleeves of his zip up hoodie covered his thumbs, he has sweater paws. His hair framed his face nicely, his cheeks have a natural pink hue, it’s like he’s always sunkissed, or calming down from a laughing fit.

The sun is backlighting him perfectly, it makes his eyes look even more honey golden than they already do. You don’t know why you find him slightly cute at the moment, it makes your stomach tug and not in a good way. The last time you thought someone was cute you got burned, and you’ve always had a disdain for Peter.

Peter was the worst kind of rebound to have because you can’t decide who’d get more hurt from it, and the thought of that makes you want to avoid him forever.

“You’re looking at me funny.”

You are, it’s because you’re noticing him for the first time, at least since you were eight. Suddenly you can remember why you cut him out when you were a kid.

“I had a crush on you when we were younger. I think that’s why I stopped being your friend.”

Your confession made Peter’s eyes widen, he looks to the ground and hides his smile. When he picks his head back up he looks to the side, his cheeks a bit more flushed than normal. “That’s cute.”

It was. It was innocent and juvenile, his small response made you laugh. “Yeah, it really was.” You shouldn’t entertain it any further, but you can’t stop. Something about seeing his blush makes you want to keep going, “Wanna know when it started?” He looks curious, “sure.”

You go quiet for a minute, you haven’t thought about it in years. The moment it clicked you were freaked out, the first time you liked a boy and he was your best friend. You went from wanting to play in dirt to holding his hand. A smile spreads over your face when you watch the memory replay in your mind.

“We were at the complex playground and we were digging by that droopy tree across from the swingset, and I saw a lizard in the grass and I pointed it out to you. I told you I always wanted to hold one but they moved too fast and scared me, but you held out your arm and said ‘I got this.’” You laugh, replaying it once more.

“And you dive bombed and picked it up, and you were so fucking proud to have caught it. Then you placed it in my hand but I felt it move around and freaked out, but you held your hand over mine and said ‘don’t be scared.’”

There’s something about an eight year old Peter Parker with glasses and dirt smudged cheeks that had child you giddy.

Peter’s smiling, it’s like he’s reliving that day in his head too. “I fulfilled your lifelong dream and you fell for me.” You shrug, “maybe.” Setting his notebook on the counter you look around, you feel like you’ve said too much.

“Hey, um, thanks for the whole… unleashing my anger thing.” You're setting yourself up for a goodbye, Peter can sense it.

“Are you hungry? Wanna go get some pizza?”

No matter what was said, or thought, you still have that pinch of annoyance at him. But his brightness was what you needed today, and you hadn’t had lunch. You have a sinking feeling you’d regret it, there was something that felt like it was a bit more than friendly and it had you throwing up every wall possible.

Still, you find yourself agreeing.

“Sure. Let’s get some pizza.”

It was a stereotypical pizza place and those were the best ones. The wall is covered in pictures of random people, terrible paintings and red checkered tablecloths covered wobbly tables. They had a permanent sticky residue, your elbows peeled when you raised them up.

“I’m surprised you didn’t judge me on my hawaiian choice.” He always did, he told you it wasn’t authentic and childish.

“Hey, I’m a pizza guy, alright? Anything you put on a pizza belongs on it. I mean, I get the appeal, sweet and savory.” Your face brightens, he understands. “Exactly! And the warm pineapple just hits differently, it’s like-” Peter can read your mind, you say it at the same time. “Fries and ice cream.”

Another thing he found gross, your head tilts, it just kind of clicks with Peter. Your ex would sneer when you’d go for a dip, you begged him to try it a hundred times, you promised he’d like it but he’d tell you it was ‘fucking gross’.

“Hawaiian and pepperoni, can I get you kids anything else?” You shake your head while Peter responds for the both of you, ‘no thanks, we’re good.” Peter’s slice has a pool of grease in a slice of his pepperoni, it looks delicious. He sees you eying his choice and holds it out, “you want a bite don’t you?” Your eyes flash to your slice, “only if you take a bite of mine.” It’s only fair. “Swap with me,” you trade plates and tap slices as a cheers, humming when you take a bite Peter nods impressively.

You swap back and take a bite of yours, it’s heavenly. “I’m glad I got mine.” Peter agrees with the statement, “I’m sorry, babe, but pepperoni is superior. It’s all about keeping it simple.” You know he meant nothing by it, you know it meant it in a friendly way, you know it’s a regular pet name to use in passing, but he called you babe.

Hearing the term of affection makes your skin crawl, you swallow a lump in your throat. You want to snap at him, but instead your voice comes out soft. “Please don’t call me that.” Peter’s eyes soften, he almost tells you he didn’t mean it like that, but he knows you already understand that.

“No problem, old lady.” It took a second, but you couldn’t stop the laugh. “What did you just call me?” Peter bites his bottom lip, “well, that’s the opposite of babe, isn’t it?” It makes your smile bigger, it’s funny, if you had asked him something that simple he’d fight you on it, ask a million questions and push it until you gave up.

For the first time in a month you really can’t remember why you thought he was so great.

WEEK THREE.

Natalie Greene has her hair pulled slick back in a ponytail, a determined look and hands on her hips.

“Let’s fuck some shit up.”

Lunch with Peter had really pushed you forward, you had strayed away from him the last few days. You still listened for him nightly but avoided him in the hallway and at school, he was everything he was not, and it made you feel queasy.

It was time you removed him from your life, you started with blocking him on everything. From instagram to duolingo. Then, you piled up everything he left behind or things that reminded you of him, but you couldn’t touch your closet. You couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Enter Natalie Greene.

“I don’t know why it’s so hard for me, everything else was fine.” Natalie shrugs, your closet doors are open and she’s itching to start rummaging. “It’s not for me. What are we thinking, trash, donate, burn? Dare I say detonate?”

You snort, “think I could do some black magic?” Her eyes light up, “I’ll look up the dark arts right now, don’t dare me.” You sigh, “I don’t care what you do with them, I just need them out of here.” Natalie Greene understands, she’s been there too a few times. Everything that reminds you of him burns like hell. A constant reminder of what’s no longer.

It’s only five shirts and some sweatpants but it feels paralyzing. Once his clothes are gone he’s no longer, like the last year never meant anything. He cheated but you still feel like it was real for the time you had him.

“Shit, can we raincheck the disposal?” Natalie is staring at her phone in her hand, a worried line where her lips were. “Family stuff.” You tell her it’s fine and send her out in a second, staring at the bag you started to twitch.

It felt daunting- a looming presence. You almost got rid of him but couldn’t. It was five minutes of harsh breathing, then you drag it across the hall hoping Peter was home. You needed them gone.

May answered the door and you feel slightly flustered.

“Hi, May. Is Peter home?”

She welcomes you in the door, skipping over the makeshift laundry bag and giving a quick but squeezing hug. “How are you feeling?” If you had been asked that a week ago you’d fly off the handle, but this week it feels like you can breathe a bit better.

“I think I’m doing pretty okay. It helped to know he cheated, it makes me miss him sixty percent less. The other forty makes me feel pathetic.” May frowns with empathy, “my college boyfriend cheated. Betrayal and hurt is a weird feeling when mixed with love.”

You laugh, “yeah, it really is.” May clears her throat, “Peter’s in his room, he may be busy with some homework.” You thank her and move down the hallway, the plastic bag follows, half of you hopes it rips because it’s what he deserves.

You knock and wait for his response, grunting when you swing the trash bag over the threshold and let it drop. “I have an odd request for a man.” Peter seems surprised to see you for a second, then looks at the bag and back at you. He seems a bit more weary.

“Uh huh.”

“I’m getting rid of his things and Nat had to dip, wanna come with?” You follow up with a wince, “I’m sorry, this is super weird and out of place.”

Peter shrugs, “if it helps, it helps. And if you’re serious, I’ll go with you.” You take a deep breath, healing and growing isn’t always comfortable. “Fuck it, let’s donate some shit.”

You feel like you stand straighter walking out with Peter behind you, he’s carrying the dead weight and you feel accomplished. May has a raised eyebrow, you hold out your hand and settle her curiosity.

“Don’t worry, justice is about to be served.”

May grins at her nephew's soft smile, she’s seen and heard about you more in the last two weeks than she has in the last nine years. “It’s sounding a lot more like twenty percent.”

The moment things started turning south was at the donation center. You weren’t even standing super close to Peter, or radiating an aura that even suggested he was anything more than a conveniently close acquaintance. But the volunteer at the front thought differently.

“Aw, I wish more young couples came in, it always seems to brighten up the place!”

You feel like a force of wind caught you breathless, every inch of you froze on the spot. When she says couple you think of him, but you’re not a couple anymore. When she says ‘couple’ you feel your heart encapsulate with rubble, the idea of him makes you feel sick.

You don’t think you could ever love again.

Especially not with Peter, not even when he shies away with pink cheeks and tries to shrug her comment off. It’s not worth the awkwardness of announcing you’re not a couple, you both know you’re not, and she doesn’t really care if you were or not.

“We were just in the mood to donate today,” he plays it off well. You chew on your lip and watch him fill out the donation slip, it’s second nature for Peter to take care of you, it was something he mostly failed at.

Before the attendant can take the bag, Peter stops her by hovering his hand over it, he turns his neck and makes eye contact. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Your heart pounds, threatening to crack the rock.

“I’m sure.” Because, you really are.

Peter smiles, “any last words?” You try to think of something, nothing comes to mind other than a blur of frustration and confusion. Raising your hand you give it the middle finger, Peter’s laughing at your blank face, “c’mon, you know you wanna double it.” You do, so you did.

It feels freeing, you’re not healed but you don’t have a daunting weight on your shoulders anymore. A satisfied smile spreads, your hands drop for a second before Peter’s high-fiving you. You’re tucked under his arm after saying his thanks to the confused volunteer, bumping your hip against his and caged in his hold you feel safe. Safer than you’ve ever felt.

A crack in the rocks, your heart thumps wildly when he drags you opposite from where you came. “Let me buy you a hawaiian.”

Peter is pretty. You could admit it. Never out loud, but you’d admit it silently. He’s on fire tonight, keeping you laughing and talking. He’s a perfect story teller, he has a way of pulling you in. He’s charismatic and throws himself into every role, voices and body movements.

Your chin is resting on your hand while you focus on every word of his, entranced in his excitement. A lamp hanging over your mini booth makes him look a tad yellow, but his eyes shine brighter than all hell, you never knew brown eyes could suck you in for hours.

For a second your mind blips and you truly can’t remember his eye color. But you know they’re nothing like Peter’s.

You forget to react, because Peter cut himself off and waved his hand in front of his face. You blink alert, he has a very charming smile, you look at a table of older women. “You good? Felt like you were trying to look into my soul.”

You can’t stop it, it's a knee jerk reaction and the moment you say it you regret it.

“Your eyes are very pretty.” You won’t stop looking at a slice of mozzarella on a grandma’s plate. Peter hums, nodding his head like he understands, “so you weren’t trying to sacrifice me, you just got lost in my very pretty eyes.”

The crack splinters, a chunk falls off. You meet his eyes, he’s not making fun of you. You sit straighter and reach out to steal a piece of pepperoni from his slice, acting like you’re not blatantly flirting with ease.

“I just haven’t noticed them before I think.”

Peter’s quiet for a moment, his arms are crossed on the table, fingers tap on his elbows.

“Well, I’m glad you are now.” It’s a little too much, he’s not allowed to entertain you back, he could hurt you too.

You clear your throat, “I need to ask you something.” Peter stops tapping, it’s like he’s been waiting on you to say it. “Yeah, anything.”

You lean forward a little, “did you tell my mom about the party last year?” He looks slightly disappointed that was your question, “nope.” Your eyes narrow, “I’d rather us not start a friendship built on lies.”

Peter lights up, “friendship?” A displeased expression was shared, “thin ice, Parker.” He seems a bit more determined to tell the truth this time.

Peter sits up and interlocks his fingers, “I promise I didn’t tell her. Mr. Harrington did. And I know how much you like him and I thought you would stop going to see him if you knew and he’s super old so I just kinda… let you believe it was me.”

Your heart breaks free, it’s loud and pumping and it’s making you feel alive. A sense of urgency to do something to him makes you itch, you have to pull your hands to your lap. In that second, for whatever reason, all you want is to feel his skin on yours.

He’d be willing to do anything for you, even at the cost of you hating him.

“You’re the most selfless person I know and it’s kind of insufferable.” Peter rolls his eyes, “just admit you like me, god.” Your breath stutters, but you move right past it.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, keep talking about the petting zoo.”

Peter jumps back into character, “alright, so I’m down on-”

For the first time in weeks you slept through the night, until three am. You woke up on your own, a mental alarm had you looking out for him. After you hear the comforting chorus of movement, you hide under your pillow and go back to sleep.

Your world is falling apart. You were on the track to healing, each piece of your heart was slowly mending back together. Until news of Natalie Greene going out of town hits, you collapse to your bed with an arm over your eyes. Facetime carries her into your room.

“Why couldn’t your grandma die next month?” She nods her head, folding a tank top to drop it into her carry on. “So true, she should’ve known you were having a crisis.” You nod, “it’s so hard knowing the world doesn’t revolve around me.”

The room goes quiet as she moves around and packs. You contemplate telling her, you didn’t want a spectacle and you didn’t even know if or what you wanted from Peter. But damn if you hadn’t been thinking about it for days. You wonder if she’s picked up on the hints, you’d been relying on her less and less.

“Are you going to hang with Peter while I’m gone?” Your mind flashes to him, the past few nights he’d sent you a few videos that he thought you’d like. And you did, even if he didn’t know you as deeply as he has until recently, he still makes you feel seen.

He would send you things he found funny.

Peter sends you things he knows you’d find funny.

“Maybe. He buys me pizza so he’s cool to have around, I guess.” Natalie Greene snorts, “and I’m sure he makes fun of your pineapple.” It feels like your heart shines, “no, actually. He gets it.” Your eyes flash to the top of the screen, a text from Peter pops up, you waste no time hitting the notification.

‘Wanna come have some brownie cookies?’

You bite your lip, rising from your bed you shuffle into your slippers. “Hey, Nat, I gotta go. I’m really sorry about your grandma.” She rolls her eyes, “she was super old and I didn’t really know her, it’ll be cool to see my cousins though.”

“Have fun on the trip!”

A wicked grin, “have fun with Peter.” You don’t even fight her on it, she knew exactly what you were doing.

Your knuckles tapped on the door, it was opened in seconds. Peter had a glow like you’ve never noticed, he only got more and more pretty. A smile stretched across his face, you love how it always meets his eyes.

“Hi.”

Your slippers softly scrape the wood floors when you enter, “hi.” Peter gestures you towards the kitchen, and for whatever reason, you reach behind you and tug him along.

“Okay, okay, so what did she say?”

Your legs swing on the counter, mumbling between mouthfuls of the dessert fusion you’re fully invested in Peter’s story. He had caught Mrs. Hopkins and the chef that lives on floor two in an argument, and it turns out Mrs. Hopkins was the complex's porch pirate.

Peter swallows his own bite, “she asked me to back her up! And I was all like, ‘hell no, you stole my aunt’s juicer.’” You gasp, “not May’s juicer.” Peter holds a finger up, ‘nah, I caught her red handed. She was so pissed and on the spot she snapped at me like, ‘it wasn’t a juicer, it was a butter dish.”

You slap a hand over your mouth, “oh no.” Peter’s eyebrows raise, turning his back to grab a glass of milk. “I wish you could’ve seen the look on her face when she realized she told on herself, it was awesome. She was spewing shit all the way to the elevator.”

Finishing your treat your tongue feels thick, holding out a hand in a silent request for a swig of his milk. Peter looks between your hand and his glass, he looks weary.

“Are you sure you wanna drink after me? I figured you’d be scared of my cooties.” You motion for the cup, he passes it over and you wrap your palms around the glass.

“Oh, you absolutely have boy cooties, they just become non-contagious at puberty.” Peter runs his tongue over his teeth, “I think I forgot that lesson, what else can I expect from puberty?” You laugh on a gulp of milk, “trust me, Parker, puberty hit you like a bus.

He steps closer, you set the glass down next to you.

“Is that a good thing?”

You look over his face, he’s got a defined bone structure but soft features. A boyish charm coats over him, it’s just enough of a hint of innocence you beg he never loses it. It’s a no brainer, he was attractive, your eyes flash to his mouth, it’s a wild instinct and you try your best to shake it off.

“Yes. I’d say puberty was very kind to you.” Peter takes another step, “how so?” Pretending to think about it, like you weren’t already, you take a second to respond. You don’t notice him taking another step.

“Well, you have a nice jawline.” Peter tilts his head slightly, “is that all?” You’re not sure what it is, but there’s an undertone and it fills you with excitement.

“And very nice curls.”

“I don’t think that has anything to do with puberty.” You suppose he’s right, “you’re taller than me now.” You had an inch on him when you were kids. Peter’s suddenly right in front of you, “especially now.” He has to look down at you while you blink up at him from the counter, “yeah, you’re like a giant.”

Your mind betrays you, his lips are unnaturally pink, they look like they’re the right amount chapped. “Anything else?” You’re struggling, all you can think about is him but you can’t follow a train of thought.

“You smell really good,” you take a deep breath when his hands rest on either side of you, he’s caging you in and everything builds with anticipation, you fight the urge to pull him in. “You’re just complimenting me now.”

You shake your head, “do you know how many teenage boys smell bad?” It’s not your fault, he’s so close his scent has invaded your senses, you wanted to inhale him until you turned blue.

“One more.” You try to think, he’s making it very hard. It takes a second but you have one, proud to have pulled it from the chamber, a sly grin takes place.

“You-” Lips on yours, it happened so fast you couldn’t catch up. Mind spinning when you realize Peter Parker was kissing you, you know you should shove him off, but it feels right. It’s over as quick as it started.

You just got out of a relationship, one that tugged you to one of the lowest points of your life so far. It’s not lost on you when you weren’t the one to pull away, but you’re the first one to comment on it.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” You weren’t mad, you were warning him, he doesn’t know what lies ahead.

“But I really wanted to.” His eyes keep looking you over, was he expecting you to scream?

It’s dangerous territory, your voice feather soft when it comes out. “And do you want to again?” Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea.

It felt like the air went still in the room, everything slowly melted into the background until it was only you and him. The quiet hum of the air conditioner faded into silence, the scene music from a movie on the tv in the room behind you diluted to nothing.

It was just you and Peter, and he was getting closer. It was achingly slow, you know what he’s doing, he’s giving you a chance to escape. Bail before it became too real, but has he thought about the possibility of you leaning closer?

What are you doing?

His lips hovered over yours, when you closed your eyes he took it as permission.

You’d always heard of the fireworks, that kisses are like explosions of happiness. And they were, and you loved them, but there were no fireworks. At least with him.

With Peter, your entire sky brightened. Little prickles of electricity dolly chained up your spine, an explosion of color in your mind. It made you starving and whole in one touch, his body made to fit against yours perfect.

You wonder if he has the same feeling, you think he does when his hand cups your face, the other one tugs your hip so you fit him better. It’s bold of you, but when you feel that entranced you don’t know how to stop. Your tongue swipes on his bottom lip, it’s very clear he doesn’t know what to do.

You pull away for air, Peter’s pupils blow wide before looking at the floor. His head feels like it’s spinning, the girl he’s always wanted, wants him right back. Peter feels very aware of his surroundings, how hard his heart is pounding, how you’re holding him to you, how you’re tracing his bottom lip with your thumb, how you’re leaning back in, how he’s holding you into him.

You take the lead, it’s slow but you build his confidence, he’s a quick learner.

In minutes you’re nearly laid back on the kitchen counter, you’re about to suggest he takes it to his bedroom, but the thought of breaking away from his kiss keeps you stationary. Peter’s locked to you too, your legs hooked around his waist, keeping him as close as he could get.

All you can think is Peter, Peter, Peter.

He claims he doesn’t know much, but it feels like he’s intune with your body. Peter matches you perfectly, you never knew a makeout session could bring so much tension. A moan pulls from the back of your throat when his thumb peeks under the cotton of your shirt.

Peter breaks the kiss, little huffs of air billow from your mouth while he kisses down the side of your neck. When he finds the spot that makes you squirm he nibbles gently, a hand tangled at the back of his hair lets him know he’s doing something right.

Especially when you arch into his touch as his hand confidently slides under your shirt, digging his fingers into the plush skin over your ribcage. “Fuck, Peter,” it’s breathy and eggs him on, he wants to hear nothing but that for the rest of his life.

Caught up in the moment neither of you heard the door, or noticed the third person in the room, until shock spewed from their mouth.

“Oh, wow!”

Peter rips himself away, his instinct is to hide your face into his chest. You’re grateful, it saves the embarrassment of looking his aunt in the eye after she watched you fold under his hands. Peter’s mind is racing, his only priority was keeping you comfortable.

Fuck, he kisses so sweet. Shut up!

“Hey, May. Get anything good at the farmers market?”

Blatant ignorance and casual conversation was the route he took, and it seemed to have worked. Cloth bags hit the counter, you stay hidden, Peter’s hand pressed into the back of your head. He’s sturdy, your head lays perfect on his sternum, it was made for you. No, stop.

“Yes! I got more of that european bread we really liked.” As much as you would like to be ignored, May wouldn’t let you. A pat on your knee sent your arms curling around Peter’s waist, he tried his best to settle the clench of his heart.

Fits perfect, fits perfect, fits-

“You’d love it, it’s roasted garlic, real pieces too!”

It may be rude to ignore the owner of a home, but you weren’t looking at her for another ten lightyears. At least you give a muffled response into Peter’s chest, “sounds good.” May giggles a little, you hear the fridge open and rustling.

“Are you gonna hide from me forever?”

If Peter could play pretend, so could you. You pushed him away softly, “Peter made brownie cookies.” May raises an eyebrow, directing her attention towards her nephew. “Ever since that first plate of cookies Peter’s been baking like it’s his job.”

He’s perfect.

“You made the cookies?” Peter had told you May did, you’re sure of it. He nods quickly, “I figured if I told you, you’d think they were poisoned.”

You want his touch, you want him pressed into you again. This has to stop.

It’s dramatic, but you’ll bite. “Smart boy.” Peter has a gleam in his eye, “I really am.”

May knows when she’s third wheeling, she makes an excuse to move to the living room, Peter nods towards his room. You accept his hand down and look behind you at the door. He was frustratingly magnetic, you wanted to do nothing more than fall into bed and stay forever attached to his lips.

It was a new rush of feelings, most of them new and almost dangerous. You wanted to explore and learn and take some of Natalie Greene’s advice and grow. But more than wanting, you knew you had to leave.

You were still healing, and if it hurt this bad with him, where nothing felt like this, you can’t imagine the burn this could leave.

“I should go,” you can’t look him in the eye, he’d suck you back in. You’d never be able to leave, you have to leave.

“Is this because of May? Cause we can leave and..” You shake your head fast and take a step back, he’s too kind, too understanding, too new and thrilling and, and… loving. You don’t deserve him or what he brings, you can’t bear the imagination of what his heartbreak would feel like.

“No, not May.” There was only one thing that kept you from him before, you were still pulling the same childish tricks. Something about Peter Parker caused you irrational terror.

“I told you, you shouldn’t have done that.”

Peter tries to look at you, you take another step back. “You asked if I wanted to do it again.” He can’t use logic, it won’t work here. “That didn’t mean do it again.”

“You sure? Cause it really seemed like you wanted me to do it again.” You feel choked for air, he’s backing you into a corner.

“You understood wrong. I need to leave.” Your footsteps paused when Peter called out your name, a timid look over your shoulder made him continue.

“Don’t do this. I know what you’re doing, and it doesn’t end well for either of us. We’re not eight anymore.” Your game was called, you didn’t want to do this, you don’t want to be mean. Why did he have to make you do this to him?

“Desperation isn’t a good look on you.”

Peter crosses his arms over his chest, his tongue swipes over his top teeth before poking out his cheek. “Of course it isn’t.” You’re very aware that he expected this to happen, he expected you to push him away and close the gates. If he did, then he shouldn’t have kissed you. He brought this on himself.

“Nothing is.” What’s a final blow if only to tie the bow on no future contact? Peter took a deep breath and gives you the escape you were looking for, “I’ll see you later.” You shake your head, “no, you won’t.”

The hallway is cold and so is your heart. Removing Peter as a potential threat didn’t do much, somehow you think it feels worse than what it would be like to love and then lose him.

Too bad he wasn’t worth the risk.

You knew dinner was going to be awkward. You did your best to get out of it but it was deemed impossible, you were about to gouge your eyes out of your head just for a solid excuse. But your mom said that you weren’t allowed to do that. So you didn’t.

Peter on the other hand, looked like he was having the time of his life. Especially when May shot you a wink across the table when he reached over your plate. You threatened your eye with a fork, your mom gave you a nasty glare.

“Butter, please?”

You cross your arms and scoff, “get it yourself, penis.” Your mom gasped out your name, appalled you would say something like that. She told you to look him in the eye and apologize, using his real name. Peter showed no reaction, chewing on a buttered biscuit.

“I’m sorry for calling you a penis, Peter.” It was the least authentic apology he’s ever heard.

“Aw, let them be kids, they’re in love.”

Your knife hits your plate so hard it chips, Peter chokes on his bite, crumbs fall from his mouth as he tries to speak as fast as he can. “No, no, May… no.”

You feel the walls closing in, the more you run from it, the more it’s announced. You can’t win. It’s brutal silence on your end, you’re shutting down into a shell of a human.

“Oh? I thought after-”

Peter has your back. “After we made pizza? It was one time, May. It wasn’t like I planned it, it just happened. We were hanging out and I just really wanted pizza and I didn’t really stop to think if she wanted pizza, I just made it.”

May plays right along, and asks you directly. “Does that mean you’re not coming over for pizza anymore?” Does that mean you’re not dating my nephew anymore?

Peter already knows the answer, he just wonders if it’s different if his aunt asks.

“The last pizza I had burned to a crisp in the oven and it tasted really, really bad. And if that was a pizza I thought I loved, I can’t imagine how bad it would’ve been if it was my favorite.”

Your mother has never seen you so passionate about pizza. May quirks an eyebrow, she looks at Peter while she asks.

“You don’t trust Peter in the kitchen?”

You’re doing your best to ignore Peter’s eyes on the side of your face, you’re trying to pretend you’re not being vulnerable.

“He’s the only person who could burn it all down.”

May clicks her tongue, she’s more focused on cutting up her dinner. “For what it’s worth, as Peter’s aunt, he’s a great chef. He takes his time in the kitchen, he doesn’t mind waiting for the yeast to bloom. Because when the dough is ready, he’s really gentle at scooping it up and helping it turn into whatever it needs to be.”

You turn to Peter, he gives a shy smile. “You’re not scared of burning yourself?”

A shrug, “It’s a precaution you take each time you cook, but from what I’ve learned, burns heal.”

“Scars don’t.”

Peter tilts his head, “they fade over time, don’t they?”

May speaks up, she’s looking right at you. It goes past the depth of high school love, it goes to the deepest mark one could leave on a heart. A lover lost too soon.

“They do.”

WEEK FOUR

Peter Parker has been on your mind for four days, (and nights,) straight. Each morning you wake at 3:02 and hear his muffled metronome. You’ve gotten avoiding him down to a T. The first morning you woke up early to watch him leave, then planned a ten minute window in case he was running late one day, and left around that.

You’ve been successful so far. But there was an underlying tug that wanted to be caught, you wanted him to hold you close to him and tell you that he wasn’t going anywhere and nothing safe is worth the risk.

Is that why you let yourself be caught by him this morning?

“Good morning,” it was shot over his shoulder while he locked the door. You grumbled out to him, Peter doesn’t mind you didn’t use words, you were directing expression towards him and that’s enough. “Wanna walk together?”

The idea sends flutters to the middle of your stomach, a brief image of his hand in yours while your hip bumps against his every so often and you laugh at whatever he tells you takes over your mind. “If you want to walk near me while we go to the same location, that’s on you.”

Peter’s hot on your heels down the steps, “that’s a total yes.” You ignore him and try to subtly shut the main door on him, it doesn’t work. “How have you been?” Walking faster, you hope he catches the hint. Peter matches pace perfectly- damn him and his puberty bus and his big strides.

“Personally, I have been mourning the loss of my favorite neighbor coming over.” Peter blinks at the side of your face while carrying a grin. “I mean you, by the way. In case you needed that hint.”

“Got it. Thanks.” You know you need to pick a side, but something in you won’t let you ignore him.

“Welcome. You know, if you’re free, you’re invited for dinner tonight.” You pout sarcastically, “tell May I’ll miss her presence.” Peter bumps your arm, you feel like dropping to your knees. “She keeps asking about you, I’m running out of excuses.”

You scoff, “excuse what? You can tell her the truth, penis.” Peter almost loses you when you swerve around a stranger’s shoulder, in one second he’s next to you again. “And what would the truth be?”

“You pushed yourself onto me,” you stare at Peter in shock when your wrist was grabbed tightly, you came to a stop on the sidewalk with him. He maneuvered to stand in front of you, noticing every inch he had on you; it seemed like his playful mood vanished.

“Hey, I was just messing with you, okay? I thought you just didn’t want to talk about it, but pushing myself on you is the last thing I want you to think I did. If I made you uncomfortable, I’m really sorry.”

Your features softened, your words sent him into a shame spiral. It was annoying how upset he looked with himself, even if you had to swear him off forever, you didn’t want him to think he sexually harassed you.

“I was kidding, Peter. I don’t think you pushed yourself onto me, you gave me the option to back out and I pulled you in. I’d just rather never speak or think about it ever again.”

A weary smile, “that bad, huh?” You pulled your coat tighter around your chest, the cold making the tip of your nose numb. “Quite the opposite, really.” Before you could fall into temptation and kiss him in the middle of the city, you pulled away to keep heading towards school.

“Can I ask what that means?” You nod, “sure.” You offer up no more explanation.

“Well?” You look at him for a second, “oh, sorry. You can ask all you want, doesn’t mean I’ll tell you.”

“You’re gonna inflate my ego, you’re telling me it was so good you can’t put it into words.”

You give him a side eye, “I wasn’t aware there would be so much talking when I allowed you to walk next to me.”

“That’s not denial…” His cadence was sing-songy.

“You’re in denial.”

Peter shook his head confidently, “I’m not in denial, I am very okay with the fact I like you.”

You came to a halt. He’s not allowed to feel this way, he doesn’t know what it could bring. Has he not seen what love can do to a person? Has he not watched you crumble into a thousand pieces over and over throughout the weeks?

And why did his confession turn every piece of rubble into stained glass?

Peter’s not allowed to like you because reciprocation leads to temptation which bleeds into dating where it comes to a crashing end in heartbreak.

You tried to put on a serious face, but you know Peter sees the mask. “Don’t.” Pointing a finger at his chest, “don’t say that, don’t think that, and sure as shit don’t act on it.”

Peter must think you’re joking because he pushes your hand down before lightly laughing. “Don’t act on it? I already did.” Is that what he did? Did he plan that moment? You thought it was a spur of the moment thing, but maybe he’s been planning it for weeks.

How long has he liked you?

It doesn’t matter. You’ll be the adult and end it before it can start, he doesn’t know what this can do to a person. You can do it nicely, or at least try. Maybe he’d find it more sincere if it comes from the heart.

“Peter, have you ever had your heart broken? Like, really broken? Because I wouldn’t put that on my worst enemy. It’s a type of emotional pain that turns physical, I mean, have you ever been so heartbroken you throw up? Have you ever been so sad you don’t eat for days? Have you ever cried so hard you almost fainted? It’s shit, Peter.”

“But was it worth it?”

Did he not hear anything you just said? “What does that mean?”

Peter adjusts the strap of his backpack, “you loved him, right?” You don’t need to give an answer, he already knows it. “Do you regret it? Even with the heartbreak, did that undo all the good that came out of it all?”

You lick your bottom lip, it’s been a circulating thought. Love opened up doors you didn’t know were closed, in the end it was a beautiful tragedy. But that’s the worst part, with Peter you don’t know what it would feel like. You’ve only had a glimpse and it tells you that it’s something that’s going to change you forever.

If Peter leaves, if Peter cheats, it’ll kill you, it’d be nothing like when he did it and you can’t take the gamble.

It was worth it with him, he made you grow. With Peter you’d take ten steps back and never be the same.

“There isn’t always a silver lining, Peter.” You refuse to answer.

“So, what, you’re never going to fall in love again?” Peter’s matching your pace again, you can’t wait until you’re in the four safe walls of Midtown.

“No, I just can’t fall in love with you.”

“Can’t is a funny word choice.”

“Won’t.” You exhale sharply, “I won’t fall in love with you.”

Peter has no interest in your claim, “it’d be easier if you just said you didn’t like me, but you’re not.”

You don’t have to answer, you can choose to ignore him entirely and you’ll be doing just that.

“I don’t like this conversation anymore and I’m ending it.” It works, only for twenty seconds, but it worked until Peter thinks he has a brilliant idea.

“Break up with me.”

Your steps slow, his did the same. Peter’s hands were tucked in his jacket pockets, the urge to kiss him breathless unmeasurable. You fight past it, “huh?”

“You said I don’t know real heartache, so I want you to break up with me. Right here.” He’s entirely way too amused for you, even the idea makes you feel sick.

“I’m not going to break up with you, Peter. I can’t get another tardy slip.” You keep walking, Peter hopped to keep up. “Ten seconds, just end it.”

“No.”

“C’mon, it’ll be easy. Dump me and break my heart.”

“We’re not dating. I can’t dump you, even if I wanted to.” What happened to ending the conversation?

You hear the smirk when he speaks. “If.”

“I’m not playing your word games, Peter.” Because you’re not.

A laugh, “then break up with me.”

You thought he was supposed to be smart. How has he not gotten any of this, does he think it’s a joke, does he think you’re playing? Peter has no idea what this means, but you do.

Tugging at his elbow, you stop him in his tracks. Staring into his eyes and daring yourself not to get lost, you try to make things extremely clear. “I can’t break up with you, Peter. I barely made it through him. I wouldn’t know how to handle losing you. You’d hurt me too bad and I can’t take that risk.”

Peter’s voice is soft when he answers, you want to close your eyes and have it carry you to heaven. “I can’t break up with you either. You’d be able to hurt me just as bad.” It takes you from your trance, “you would. Because I’m a bad girlfriend. If I wasn’t he wouldn’t have replaced me before he could end it.”

Peter’s eyebrows pull together, you stuff your hands into your coat pockets to keep from smoothing them out. “Hey, woah, let’s pause there. You did nothing wrong. Even if you were a bad girlfriend, and trust me, you weren’t, that would never justify him doing that to you. Nothing could.”

It’s nice of him, but he doesn’t know that. “We didn’t talk, you don’t know I wasn’t a bad girlfriend.” Peter scoffs, like the idea of you calling yourself a bad girlfriend offends him personally. “He made you cry all the time,” the words followed by your name. “Bad girlfriends don’t cry, bad boyfriends make their good girlfriends cry.”

Peter heard you. Every time you cried, every time you felt unloved, every time you sobbed out an ‘I’m sorry’ for something you didn’t know you did. He listened, Peter listened like you did each night. How did you never notice the universal gimmick?

If you think back, most of the bad moments were at the hands of him. And for Peter to notice when you were worlds away from his person, makes your heart wrench inside your chest. You know you already drew the line and there’s no crossing it, but it’s nice living in a moment make believe.

“You’d never be able to call me babe.” It was a shitty pet name. You never liked it.

You get flashed with a toothy grin. “That’s okay, I have a million to choose from.”

Or the obvious hang up, “May would totally hate me too, she knows I’ll take your virginity.” Peter waves you off, “we don’t know that.” You quirk an eyebrow, “we don’t?” Peter corrects himself, “she doesn’t have to know that.”

You chuckle from the back of your throat. “But she will. You wouldn’t be able to hide it. I definitely wouldn’t be able to hide it.” Peter looks down for a second, you follow his gaze, you wonder if you’re both zoned in on a black skid on the side of his shoe. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know. It’s like, you just get a lot more… touchy, I guess. Nothing’s off limits anymore.”

A monotone reply, “yeah, that sounds like a total nightmare.”

It gets too real. Make believe time is over, now you have to be an adult and stick to your guns.

“It wouldn’t work between us, Peter.”

You feel sad, there’s no good answer and both of you would be left with a bruise. He wanted more than you’d let yourself give and you wanted more than you’d let yourself have. Peter was right, you could hurt him just as bad, and you’d never forgive yourself.

Peter made himself a constant, someone you could really rely on the last few weeks, and if you lose that you don’t know how you’d ever be okay again.

“If you think so.” His kind smile doesn’t meet his eyes. It’s a quiet journey the rest of the way, both of you receiving a tardy slip and parting ways in the hall without a word or glance.

Peter Parker had gotten his wish. You just broke his heart.

This was all Natalie Greene’s fault. If she wasn’t stuck states away at a funeral she would’ve held you accountable and used every means necessary to stop you from going to Peter’s.

It could also be Peter’s fault. He should’ve never kissed you like he did, he should’ve never made your heart beat with purpose and left a sear where he touched. Doesn’t he know you could never forget it?

It also didn’t help that you were drunk. Not drunk enough to be slamming into walls and slurring words, but enough to stop that part in your brain to hold you back from the things you truly wanted. Like your neighbor.

It had been three days of nothing and that wasn’t Peter’s choice. He respected your decisions too much. If you didn’t want him in your life, he wouldn’t be. Doesn’t he know that just makes you want him more?

Peter wasn’t at the party, you didn’t expect him to be, but you were a little hopeful he’d surprise you and show up. He didn’t. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t on your mind with each shot you took, or when you stopped for pizza with a group of friends, when everyone teased you for pineapple but you knew Peter wouldn’t.

You grabbed him a slice of pepperoni without thinking. Or maybe you were. It was an excuse to talk to him, to see him, to touch him. You could take it home and reheat it in the morning, or you could lean into your excuse of a few too many and knock on his door.

It’s Peter’s fault. He really shouldn’t have kissed you like that, he doesn’t understand his power.

Harsh banging. It’s over your head how late it is, you have important things to do. Like, lay over his body in his bed like you kiss down his neck, or squirm with harsh whimpers when he kisses down yours. You bet he likes to cuddle too, he never did, but Peter seems like he couldn’t get enough of you.

If you couldn’t date Peter you could use him as a rebound, right?

Faster knocking, why isn’t he answering? At your loudest, the door opens. He was sleeping, you could tell by the puffy eyes but you didn’t look at his face too long, no, Peter was in nothing but a pair of boxers.

When the fuck did he get so toned? You would’ve reached out for a light graze, but he stopped you.

“You’re so lucky May’s on overnight duty.” No, you’re lucky because he’s half naked and sleepy, you’ve never seen anyone so tempting. It feels like you’re dying and only he could save you.

You can’t help it, your palm connects with his chest, it’s there longer than a second. It’s less about pushing him aside and more about touching him, and he knows that. Peter talks at a normal volume for the hour, “what are you doing here?”

Your thumb traces his collarbones, “I brought you pizza.” Your breath skips when he turns his head to the side to check the time on the microwave in the kitchen, his jawline ultra toned.

“At one in the morning?” Peter’s amused, you don’t think he would’ve ever been so kind if you disrupted his sleep. You nod, “I was thinking of you.” You raise the small box, just as proof as you really did get him a slice.

Peter takes it with a smile. “Thanks, kid.” You don’t know why, but you really like that one.

“Can I come in?” If he thought all you wanted was to share a midnight snack, he was terribly mistaken. The door widened in response, you made sure to brush against his side, he said nothing.

Following him into the kitchen, you have a flashback. It’s one you want to reenact, maybe if you sit in the same spot he’ll catch the drift. A blue wave of light washes over him when his snack is stored for morning, he looks angelic.

You don’t think you’ve ever been this fascinated with him.

“Now I understand all the song references about refrigerator lights.” Peter looks over his shoulder, his grin makes you feel like you’re flying. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He emerges with two water bottles, cracking the lid on yours and passing it over. His rests on the counter. He doesn’t need water but you do and he’s not about to make you feel singled out.

You think it might be too late. You think you might already be falling.

“I don’t know, but I just get it.” He’s letting you do all the talking, it’s odd, you’re not used to being listened to. If Peter realizes what you’re doing, he says nothing. Maybe you just have to point it out.

You gesture to yourself, the real reason you came over finally announced.

“Do you see where I’m sitting?”

Peter nods, “I do.”

Your fingers tap on the countertop, “remember the last time I sat here?” Peter breathes deep, you wonder if he’s thinking about it right now. “I do.”

You wait. He makes no move. Where’s your kiss?

“Well? Are you gonna do it again?” You pucker for good measure, just in case there was an inkling of uncertainty on his end. You’re making it clear what you want. A faulty smile, you don’t like it one bit.

“No,” at least he sounds sorry about it. But he likes you, he told you himself, why would he deny you? Doesn’t he know how much you need this?

“Why not? If you think this is a trick, it’s not. If you want, I’ll kiss you first.” You jump down but you’re held back by a hand, he’s literally pushing you away. It’s a feeling that causes a tug, you really don’t like it.

“You’re drunk,” Peter follows the statement with your name, he’s not mean but he’s also not going to change his mind.

You scoff, buzzed would be more accurate. “I’m not drunk.”

“Drunk enough you’re allowing yourself to have this conversation.”

He has a very fair point.

“Liquid courage, kiss me?” Peter shakes his head, “you made it clear nothing would happen, so nothing is going to happen.”

You grin, “consider it practice then.” Your words make him frown, “you don’t want this.” Who is he to tell you what you do or don’t want?

“How do you know I don’t want this?”

“Because this isn’t you.”

You feel a tightness in your chest, he doesn’t get to think he knows you more than you do. “You don’t know me, Peter. You just have an idea of me.”

“You’re hurt and confused. I won’t take advantage of that, being mad at me won’t make me change my mind.”

Where was his care coming from? He didn’t care about you this much and neither should Peter. It wasn’t normal, was it? But it’s also not fair to compare Peter to him at every chance, especially because Peter only ever seems to outshine.

“Why didn't you act like this a year ago?” If he truly cares, where was it before?

“You mean when you had a boyfriend?”

Is that why he waited until now to be a friend? Did he think you’d be sad and have weak defense, making it easy for him to get first in line? “Is that what it is? You waited until I was dumped to put on this act and lay it on me while I’m all confused? How long have you had this planned out?”

Your words are like daggers, the things you’re alluding to, he would never do them. Ever.

“Don’t. I’ve always liked you but you had a boyfriend and the last thing on my mind was trying to get with you when it ended. You were so miserable, I just wanted to be a friend or something, but it changed and maybe a little piece of it was me being selfish. I made the first move, several times. I kissed you, I asked you out, I told you I liked you. And you said no. I respect your no, why don’t you?”

You could tell him the truth, tell him that he was right and his love terrified you because you haven’t felt something so raw before in your entire life. Peter wasn’t yours, or anywhere close to it. It shouldn’t be natural to feel magnetized to him.

You could tell him the truth, but you’re better at hiding behind false walls.

“I liked you better when you didn’t care about me.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way.”

He knows you’re lying but he won’t make you admit it, no, he’ll push you into your corner of lies until you force your way out with the truth. Peter Parker will not chase you.

Would it be wrong to push him so far away he wouldn’t let you chase him too?

“You have a superiority complex. That’s why you can’t find a girlfriend, or any friend really. You think you’re better than everyone else and it’s a natural repellent.” You back up towards the door, you spit words as they come to your mind.

“I was willing to do it. I was willing to give you a shot but you ruined it for yourself. You’re going to look back on this moment and regret it.”

Peter really doesn’t care for your dramatics. It’s impressive he can one, handle it and two, make you check yourself. “Regret not taking advantage of a drunk girl? Is that what you’re insinuating?”

“No! I just meant that… I don’t know what I mean, Peter! I don’t know anything and you’re not helping in the slightest and everything about you makes me want to fucking cry or scream or, or… I don’t know.” Your voice trails, it’s the most honest you’ve been in weeks.

“I don’t know anything anymore, Peter.”

Everything you’ve ever thought about love has been wrong.

He made you feel flightless. But Peter, Peter made you feel free. Peter made you feel like you were flying at full speed, like the wind washes over your cheeks so harshly you’re in a permanent grin. You’ve never seen the world from this high up, in this much color, it’s never been so beautiful.

The flight is amazing, thinking about stopping it hurts you. How would it feel to be on the ground again, to walk around, to be without wings and treetops and colors and wind? How would it feel to be without Peter?

Would it feel like an agonizing death?

Would your wings ever be patchable again?

Questions that make you realize the closer you get to him, the harder you’ll hit the ground. You’re okay with falling, you’re able to brace yourself the best way you can. But will Peter be there to catch your landing?

It looks like he’s trying to stop himself from hugging you, it’s a good thing he is. He might be thinking you’d yell or push him away, you think you’d just cry.

Peter looks tired, and more than just because you woke him up. You wonder if it’s because he’s up late every other night, you want to ask him about the routine and why he broke it tonight. You won’t.

Your back hits the door, there was only one thing you were sure of, it had been a chain reaction since. This was Peter’s fault, he’s the one that kissed you. He started it.

“You shouldn't have kissed me, you really, really shouldn’t have. You’ve fucked this all up, penis.”

Peter’s tired of the blame. “You came here,” he ends it with your name, like he’s pleading.

It’s annoying, at least you tell yourself it is. If you can replace feelings with antonyms you’ll trick your brain and you’ll be right on track to hating him again and only seeing him as a void object.

You open the door, it’s the last time you’ll allow yourself to look at his face.

It’s Peter’s fault.

“Because you made me want to.”

WEEK FIVE.

It’s way too early for the hysteric buzz of a mosquito in your ear, yet, it still sings to you while you’re locking your front door.

“Good morning.”

You nod your head, “penis.”

And just like that, the mosquito’s squashed.

You yawn so harshly that you rub at your jaw. You’re unable to sleep and miserable. You’ve tried everything under the moon and stars, nothing worked. Staring up at the ceiling you tried to count sheep but they kept turning into the tiny freckles that dotted over Peter’s cheeks.

It wasn’t fair to keep thinking about him, you’re doing your part. You cut him out and you decided to hate him. You’re just finding out that that’s not how it works.

3:02, you hear his window.

3:04, your eyes finally get heavy.

3:07, you’re dozing off.

3:10, you’re asleep.

It wasn’t fair.

Three nights later, It’s 3:02 in the morning and a window slams shut. This time, it isn’t your neighbors. This time, it was your own. You should be scared, but you don’t feel threatened, you’re curious. You pull your head from under your pillow.

Spider-Man is at the foot of your bed, his shoulder hits the window frame when he pulls his mask off. He’s racing for air, he looks beat up, a gash crossed over his chest.

If you didn’t have as much distain as you did, you’d be slightly shocked.

“If you get blood on my carpet, I will fucking kill you.”

Peter must be dizzy, because he’s imagining you in his room.

"Seriously, if you get blood on my carpet I'll have you come over tomorrow and scrub it out with your toothbrush."

Peter tries to swallow, it's hard to do. His head feels like a brick, his hands won't stop shaking.

“Hey, pesky pete, I mean it. Get the fuck outta here.”

When he holds his eyes close, then opens them, he still sees you there. Peter looks down at his hands, turning them back and forth. They go in and out of focus, it’s dizzying, at one point he has five hands.

He says your name questioningly, it’s hard to get words off his tongue, his brain is moving too slow. “Yup, that’s me. Now get out.” Peter touches his chest, it’s beet red. His shoulder is killing him, he stumbles and slams into the wall- now you’re sitting up in bed.

“Peter, are you okay?” It’s pure worry, the act is dropped for a second, he’s not normal. He’s not answering, you think he’s trying but he can’t bring himself to speak, he’s lagging in real time. One foot hits the floor, the rest of you perched in your bed keeping an eye on his frame.

“Peter.” You need his focus on you.

He presses his hand to his wound, a last ditch effort to protect your carpet. Then, he hits the floor. You jump up, “Peter? Peter, are you okay? Peter,” he’s passed out and tore up to shreds. Every bit of you wants to scoop him into your lap and hold him tight, but instead, you get to work.

Peter flies up from the bed gasping for air, his face is cold and wet. The source is your twisted grin above him, a water glass held tightly.

“Oh, good. You’re up.”

Peter pats his chest, a blur of last night follows. He sits up in a haste, a tug in his side makes him cradle it, you both wince at the same time.

“Yeah, I tried doing the best I could, but I wasn’t sure if there was something under that.. Or how to take it off. You probably have significant damage.”

“Thanks.” His mouth is dry and his voice crackly, it sends a zing up your spine. Peter’s never felt so weak after a rough night, his head is pounding and he can feel the crunch of dried blood under his suit.

“Can I get some of that or are you still punishing me?” The only reason you give him the rest of the glass is because you like Spider-Man. He has a job to do, Peter on the other hand, could die of thirst.��

“You passed out on me last night.”

Peter chugs the glass, you almost think about getting him another. “I did.”

You nod, “I had to lug you up here, you’re extremely heavy when you’re dead weight.” He almost smiles at the imagery, instead he glances down and realizes you did your best attempt at working on the gashes over his chest and arms through the spandex.

Even as he was passed out and rendered useless. You must not hate him as much as you say. It's still nice to know he's not getting special treatment because of who he is, not even Spider-Man could make you like Peter.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have excellent bedside manner?”

“Oh no, anything I could do to make it worse?”

“I think another water and some advil might kill me.”

“Perfect, coming right up.”

Peter takes another ten minutes before trying to sit up, “I should go home and shower.” Your hand gently pushes his shoulder back down, “easy, tiger. May isn’t home and you’re not about to turn your shower into a personal slip and slide.”

Before you could regret the words, “if you want a shower, you’re doing it here.” He paused under your touch, scared you made the wrong impression, your eyes widened. “Not with me or anything, I just meant so you’d have someone around.”

Peter doesn’t care how it has to get done, he wants the suit and dried blood off him. He nods his head and sits up a little slower before tugging at his neckline. You look away for a minute, unsure where to settle your eyes.

“Help me get my arm out?” Your hands pull at the suit, his arm escapes, it’s covered in small knicks. It’s a subconscious move, you gently tap the cuts with your thumb. Peering into his eyes you hold a frown.

“Does it hurt?”

Peter feels like you might kiss his marks. “Not really, it’s mostly my side.”

You rub his chest, “you got a gash right here.” It’s over his heart.

“Guess we’re twinsies now.”

If he wasn’t in pain, you’d slap his arm for the comment. Instead, you watch him carefully remove the red and blue until he’s left in his boxers. You do your best to keep your eyes on his face, Peter looks amused.

“You’re trying really hard not to look at me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Parker.” You offer a hand to pull him up, he accepts. A slow stand, his back’s more defined than his front, you almost bite your fist. Peter has the same shower as you, but you still explain how to use it. And allow him to use your products.

“Got it.” The tap is turned on, the water hits against the ceramic. You make no effort to move, instead watching for a moment. Peter’s fingers pull at the waistline of his briefs, your eyes dart right to them.

“You know, this is the part where most people leave.” It’s teasing.

“I just wanted to make sure you got in okay, it’s a high step.” It’s a quarter of the truth.

“I’ll be alright, I’ve been doing this alone for a few years.” Peter says it like it’s an inside joke, but it just makes you feel sad. He’s never had someone to be there for him, or patch up his wounds, or make sure he’s okay to shower. You wonder how many times he’s passed out on his bedroom floor with no one to drag him to bed.

“You okay?” A hand on your skin wakes you back up, clearing your mind of Peter.

You nod, it was a flash of empathy. You couldn’t imagine what it’s like for him.

“I’m just sorry you’ve had to do it all alone. It doesn’t seem fair, Spider-Man does nothing but take care of other people. He should have someone to take care of him for a change.”

It may sound like you’re insinuating, especially the way he looks at you when he responds.

“Yeah. That’d be nice.”

Seconds tick, it’s getting a little weird, mostly because you want to tackle him into the shower and race your mouth over every inch of skin. You clear your throat, “you want me to get you anything from your place?”

“Sure. Go shopping for me.”

You use the copied key May left for you several years ago when you tended to some plants while her and Peter went on vacation, and it feels weird being in their home alone. It’s too quiet, the Parker’s are expressive in everything they do, when they're not around everything lacks passion.

Peter’s bedroom is almost the same as it was the last time you were in it, the same furniture but moved around. His posters looked updated and there’s a few extra awards he’s tucked away, you frown, he should be proud of his achievements and hang them high.

A new picture of him and May from last year, you ignore the part of your brain that says he has very kissable cheeks. His closet is clean and he’s made it easy for you to search around, each drawer is dedicated to a different clothing and everything that should be hung up, is.

It’s something you hadn’t considered, but a man taking care of his laundry creates an entire new standard.

Peter handed over the control when you said to get what you wanted, that means you can dress him how you please. And wouldn’t he look yummy in sweatpants and a white shirt? You don’t see how he couldn’t, it’s the male version of a sundress.

Arms full of cotton, you tap at the bathroom door with your foot. You shout over the water, “I have your clothes.” It’s muffled but you hear him and gently push the door open, a faint outline on the shower curtain suddenly makes you shy.

“They’re right here,” patting the clothes for good measure. Peter shoots out a ‘thanks!’ and you slowly back out until you’re sitting patiently on your bed, listening closely when the tap turns off. If he goes falling, you’re busting the door down.

No struggles, at least not until he emerges. Peter’s fine, but you’re speechless and choked. There was no one you punished but yourself with the outfit, the t-shirt is tight on his arms and the sweatpants hug his hips just right.

“I feel human again, thanks, kid.” You turn on manual breathing mode and distantly nod, his biceps are stretching the cotton, you lick your lips subconsciously. “No problem.” You watch a water droplet fall from his hair to his shoulder, your eyes stay hooked in place, his arms flexed when he dried it with the towel you lended him.

“Where should I put this?” You point to your hamper, if he put it anywhere else you’d be half tempted to sniff it. “Did you tell May I was here?” You nod and finally find strength to talk to him, “yeah. I sent her a text last night, I wasn’t sure of her Spider-Man knowledge so it was a little cryptic.” You take a breath and choose honesty, no doubt he’d get a third degree.

“I think she interpreted it as us hooking up.” Another breath, “I did not correct her.”

Peter has a boyish smile spread, it squeezes your chest, you want him in your hold more than anything. “Nice.” You scream and cheer and thank your lucky stars when he sits next to you. He used your products, but he still smells like Peter. You want to stuff your nose into his shirt and breathe him in until you physically can’t.

“May knows, by the way.” You nod absentmindedly, “anyone else?” “A couple friends.” You almost make a quip like ‘wow, you have friends?’ but you really can’t find it in you to pretend to hate him anymore. Especially when he almost died on your floor and all you wanted to do was tell him that you were sorry and you were mostly in love with him.

“Can I ask a question?”

“Shoot.”

“Do the webs come out of you?” Peter lightly laughs, it’s always the same question off the bat. “No. I make a special web fluid and I have these bracelet kind of things to shoot them out.”

“Oh. Cool.” You’re hiding the burn in your lower stomach at the thought of him over his desk creating a new form of technology. He’s so fucking smart it’s unfair, he’s too smart for his own good.

He’s grinning at you, “is it?” You can’t stop staring at his mouth, “yeah.” You’d do anything to kiss him again, the last time you truly felt alive was when his lips were on yours. “Any other questions?” There’s one. But it’s not about Spider-Man.

“Not really.” Your interest could be explored later, right now, all you needed was him. Peter finds it surprising, “I think you are the least curious person to find out about this.” You shrug, shifting your body more towards him. Peter rejected you last time but if you move like he did when he kissed you, if you move in slow for the kill, you might just get your way.

“Give me the cliff notes.” Peter starts ticking them off with his fingers, while he’s distracted you move in closer. “Bit by a radioactive spider when I was fifteen. Heightened senses plus a cool sixth sense where I can sense danger. Super strength-” You stop listening right there, your eyes are all over his build, no fucking wonder he’s a contender for worlds fittest man.

You shuffle in, your knee brushes his thigh, if he notices, he doesn’t say anything. You thank the sweatpants, the material too thick to give you away. “-Oh, and I stopped needing my glasses which is pretty cool. I think that’s pretty much it, but if you want me to expand on anyth…”

Now or never.

You push up and straddle Peter’s waist, his hands immediately hold your hips. You lean down, his grip tightens. Peter mumbles out your name, you answer with a slow kiss. Your fingers drag through his hair, curls wrap themselves around your fingers, you hold them tight. When Peter licks your bottom lip, when Peter takes control, you need to feel every bit of him.

Your hands fall down his neck and over his shoulders, then they fall to his arms, your nails lightly drag up the skin. A hum from Peter, your lower stomach clenches, you answer with a roll of your hips, he sighs into your mouth. You drag your palms over his chest, his heart is at the same pace as yours.

You break the kiss, both of you breathing fast, it doesn’t last. You kiss over his jawline, you can’t hold it in, you can’t fucking stop yourself. “You’re so fucking hot,” wet marks are dotted down his neck. “I wanna take you right here, I wanna make you feel so good.” Another grind, this time, Peter moves with you, it pulls a moan from the back of your throat. The favor returned with a hickey at the bottom of his neck, it sent him falling into your hold.

You’re kissing anywhere you can reach, “you gotta stop,” it comes out in a puff. “You’re killing me here.” Too bad, not so sad, you’re latched onto his mouth again, this time, you tug at the bottom of his shirt, it takes three times before you realize he’s not catching the hint and you pull it up yourself.

You study him when it goes flying, his eyes are more pupil than brown, his lips pouty and pulling a red hue. “Lay back,” he does, you lean over him, you’re marking up his collarbones while his hand has a fistful of your hair. Then… the kisses get lower, you're grazing over his chest, delicate brushes across the semi-healed cuts, you must’ve blocked out the advanced healing perk.

Your hand trails over his side, you soak in the grooves and muscle, your fingers brushing against the waistband of his sweatpants. Peter’s breathing hitches, you keep teasing, then bring your lower body into play. Bumps and grinds have Peter panting in your mouth, you pull back, even as he’s heaving for air, Peter’s trying to follow your kiss.

Your fingers slip further under the elastic, holding his gaze when you tell him about your intentions. “I wanna suck you off.”

There’s a pause, then he sits up on his elbows.

“Does this mean you want to be my girlfriend?” Does it? You don’t think so. You just want him, you want his mouth and his hands and his body intertwined with yours. But to fall into him and have him see all your worst parts, to have him hold your heart between his hands and trust he’d take care of it is too much.

“No.”

He’s sad. It’s not just something you think, it’s something you know. Your heart tumbles with his face. You want to hug him, you try, but he tossed you off his lap like nothing.

“May told me to get groceries today, so I should probably head out.” You swallow tightly, you’re not liking how this is sounding. “Are you mad at me?” You feel nothing but shame at his sigh, it’s debilitating when you hear his cutthroat tone. “I’m not a fucking rebound.” But he wanted to be. He wanted this. He wanted you.

Peter doesn’t use the f word, not ever.

“Whether I’m your girlfriend or sucking your dick, you’d still be a rebound.” Silence rings around the room. Peter’s voice is tight when he answers you.

“Is that all you think of me? Just a rebound?”

You don’t know how to be honest with him. You never have. “Would I be wrong?”

“Very.” It’s clipped. You’ve never heard Peter with an edge and you don’t like it. You really don’t like being on the other side of his frustration. He’s only ever been soft and kind with you, you can’t handle any more change in your life. You need Peter to keep being Peter.

You were so scared of losing him you went and filled his head up with words of affirmation, used your mouth on him, then turned around and shut him down. If this is only a fraction of how it stings when Peter’s upset you don’t know if you could handle more. You’ve never felt Peter’s cold shoulder before and it hurts.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.” It’s bullshit, Peter can sense it too. “You did.” You chew on your bottom lip, “I did, but not like that.” Peter seems taller than normal when he’s standing over you, you can’t look him in the face, it’s nothing but being mortified. You really put your foot in your mouth.

“Do you even like me or are you just horny?” You can’t allow yourself to answer him.

“I’m an idiot.” Your face turns in, Peter’s laughing at himself. “I’m such an idiot. I really thought you liked me. I thought you were trying to fight it but no, that was just me daydreaming.” You’re looking up at him but he’s already standing at the door with his shirt on and suit tucked under his arm.

“You don’t like me. You never did and now I’m trying to make pieces fit where they don’t.” He’s staring right into your eyes, he says it louder, he’s saying it for himself. “I’m not a rebound.”

“You’ve never been properly loved and it shows.”

And that’s the most brutal thing he could’ve ever said to you. Your lower lip trembles with the tears pricking at your eyes, he started it and you can’t stop it.

“I fucking hate you. I hate you so fucking much, Peter.”

No surprises there. “Yeah, I know.” He sounds just as defeated.

When he leaves you cry harder for Peter than you ever did him, and that says something. But you’re not listening.

WEEK SIX.

You finally broke down and told everything to Natalie Greene. She held you in her arms while you cried about losing what you could’ve had. “I’m sure he’ll come around babe, he likes you a lot.” You shake your head, “not anymore. He hasn’t answered any of my texts in three days.”

You can at least give yourself the benefit of trying to do damage control. He wouldn’t let you. You’d sent a flurry of texts, each one more apologetic than the next, begging him for a chance to see you but he refused.

You think you broke him.

“Have you tried talking to him? In person?” You shake your head, he doesn’t want to talk to you. You blew everything up and for the first time you really hate it. Two weeks ago you were begging for this but now you just feel terrible.

“Nat, this is nothing like what I had with him and I don’t know what that means.” Your friend hugged you close, “it means you love him more than you ever did him.” You swallow hard, you knew the truth but it was different hearing it.

It doesn’t matter anymore. You ruined it and Peter won’t talk to you anymore.

“You should’ve seen the look on his face, Nat. He was fucking crushed. It’s like…” You take in a sharp breath, you’ve been beating yourself up over it since he walked out. “It’s like I used him.” Natalie Greene doesn’t bullshit but she’s still soft as ever with her response, it’s purred out while her acrylics scratch your back. “You did.”

She’s your best friend. She should be on your side. “But I didn’t! I just-”

“Yeah, you did. You knew how he felt about you and you said no so he stopped trying. Then you showed up drunk and threw yourself at him, he said no and you got all butthurt. Then he comes over and somehow passes out on your floor and you offer him a blowjob.”

Well, when she puts it like that…

“Of course he’s going to think you flipped your script, you’re the one who kept pushing after you told him no.” Peter’s words echo in your mind, ‘I respect your no, so why don’t you?’ Because you can’t allow yourself to have him, that’s why. But… you already do, don’t you? Or, you did.

“He’s gonna wreck me, Nat. He already is.”

“Because you’re fighting it. I get it, babe, I’ve been where you are a dozen times. But you don’t get over heartbreak by hiding from love. I know it’s Peter Parker and he’s been your enemy since you were eight, but no matter how fast you try to run, he’s right there matching your stride.”

You sniff into her arm, she smells like lavender and it makes you snuggle further. “I think I’ve always liked him.” You could finally admit it. Natalie’s been there for months, years possibly. “I know. You always talk about him.”

You scrunch your eyebrows, “no I don’t.” Natalie thinks you must’ve said a funny joke because she’s laughing like it. “Yeah you do. Sure, it might have been mean things but if you truly hate someone you don’t notice everything they do.”

You noticed everything about Peter and made sure to fill Natalie Greene in on the gossip.

Like when he cut his hair way too short in middle school and his curls disappeared for months.

When he slipped in mashed potatoes in the cafeteria and fumbled until he could steady himself.

When his cheeks flamed pink because he forgot to silence his phone during a test and the Game of Thrones theme song blasted through the room as he awkwardly tried to silence the call.

Then there’s the time he stuttered when giving an answer in biology because Lindsey Snipes was twirling her hair at him. A small tug in your stomach, the answer suddenly clear to why you’ve always hated her too.

And when he bumped a friend's coke all over his notebook and he just watched with an open mouth while all his hard work was ruined.

When he stumbled up the steps.

When he hit his head with his locker.

When he stepped on his glasses.

When he was tackled in flag football.

When he tripped over his shoelace.

When he got glue in his hair.

When he winced while dissecting a frog.

When he cracked his phone because he dropped it and a guy on the football team kicked it clear across the cafeteria while he laughed. That one didn’t make you laugh. That one made you so angry you made a point to tell Kristina, said player's girlfriend, so she could give him a well deserved tongue lashing. And not the good kind.

When he fell asleep at the library and had a red mark on his cheek to prove it.

When he spit milk everywhere because the one he grabbed was expired.

When, no matter what, each time you met his eyes he’d send you a smile. And how each time there was something that made you want to give it back.

“Natalie,” you can hear it in your voice. It’s dangerous. It’s terrifying.

It’s worth it.

“I think I’m in love with Peter Parker.”

Natalie Greene and you had carefully conducted Operation: Get Peter Back.

Step one: Tell him, (IN PERSON) how you feel.

Step two: See above.

There were no other steps. Natalie Greene told you that’s all you could do.

One day later you knocked at his door before you could lose the small amount of courage you had, it’s soft enough you hope it’s unnoticeable, you could quit and say you tried. Your heartbeat’s in the bottom of your throat, your palms itch as you rub them over your shirt.

A smidge of relief, no one heard you. You’re about to quietly escape, May doesn’t let you off that easily. She’s surprised when your name comes from her mouth, you wonder how much she knows. “Hi, May. Is Peter home?” She’s got a weak poker face, her eyes dart to the side of the door before she’s smiling sweetly.

“Sorry, honey. He’s out with some friends.” You know he’s right behind the wood. You speak up, you want to be sure he hears you too. “Can I leave you with a message?” May stands straighter, she wasn’t expecting this. “Of course.”

“Can you tell him I’m sorry? And that I’ve been way too selfish and mean and a complete and utter fucking bitch to him for no good reason for nine years? Can you tell him that he’s the last person I ever wanted to hurt like this and that I really want to say it to his face?”

May ignores the colorful language and you’re thankful for it. Her eyes trail to the side again, she smiles softly. “I’ll let him know.” There’s no need, he already knows and you both know it. His answer lies in the fact that he’s allowing May to keep up the charade. You don’t know if Peter is bad at forgiveness or just that you don’t deserve it.

“Thanks, May.” You watch the door slowly close, when there's just a crack left you stop it with a hand. “He’s… He’s okay, right?” Your heart thumped slowly, you’re reading her face like it’s your job, you need to know he’s okay.

A tight nod. “He’s okay.” You can breathe a little better. “Good.”

You stare at his door for another two minutes after it shuts.

Is this an asshole move? Yes.

Is this worse than what you’ve already done? Possibly.

Peter still wasn’t talking to you and you only had one card to pull. He was home, but he wasn’t answering your texts. You think it’s time to fight fire with fire. You’re standing by his apartment door, and loudly talk into your phone. No one’s on the other side, but he doesn’t know that.

“Hello? Yes, I’m looking for J. Jonah Jameson?” Your eyes twitch to his door, nothing. You speak a little louder. “I understand he’s busy. Well I just… Uh huh, right, I understand, yes ma’am. Is he interested in Spider-Man’s identity?”

You hear something drop inside his apartment.

“Yeah, I know who Spider-Man is.” Peter swings the door open, your phone is ripped from your hand. He glares down at the screen, you’re not connected to anyone. “That’s a low move.” You lightly shrug, “did you expect anything more than that?”

A scoff, “with you? No.” Your lips twitch, you have to fight the frown. You catch his arm when he turns around, there’s no trying, he’s an unstoppable force, you’re moving with him. “I’m sorry! Peter, please! I’m sorry, I am so so sorry and I need you, okay? I need you to not be mad at me.”

Was that honesty? Were you actually being honest with him? Your shoes squeak when he stops pulling you, you’re looking at him desperately searching his face for emotion. There is none. “You’re not a rebound. Not at all. I should’ve never called you one.”

There’s a lot you’ve done to Peter you never should’ve done. Maybe it’s time you start owning up to it.

“I should’ve never said you were a rebound, I shouldn’t have kissed you, I shouldn’t have shown up here drunk, I shouldn’t have kept coming back for more after I told you no. I shouldn’t have ignored you for nine years, I shouldn’t have shut you out when I was eight, I shouldn’t have hurt you.”

Peter’s not saying anything and you don’t mind. You need to say this, you need him to know.

“I shouldn’t have hurt you. I meant what I told May. You’re the last person I ever wanted to hurt like this. You’re Peter. You’re nice, you’re warming, you’re always positive and you buy me pizza without making fun of me and you sign off on donation slips and you let me rip your notebooks apart and you bake me things.”

You blink through your tears. “You were there when I really needed you and you are anything but a fucking rebound to me.” Your chest feels tight, “you’re so good to me, even when I don’t deserve it. I really don’t deserve it now but I really fucking need you, Peter. I know I went on this whole speech thing where Spider-Man needs someone but-”

“I’m here.” Relief fills you, Peter has you tucked into his chest with his arms around you. “I’m right here, okay?” It’s the selflessness that really gets you. You’ve been nothing but mean and standoffish but Peter’s hugging you because you need it.

But really, it’s because he knows he was right. You do like him. You like him more than you’re willing to admit to him yet.

“Can you catch popcorn with your mouth?”

Peter tosses a piece up and catches it with his eyes closed. You grumble and throw your own at him, he also catches that with his eyes closed.

“Okay, turn off the powers and try again.” He laughs at you, “it doesn’t work like that.” You huff, “well, make it.” Peter tosses a piece up and dodges it, it satisfies you. “Ha. Loser normy.”

“Did you just call me a normy?”

“You’re just a boring normal person, I hate to tell you, but it’s true.”

There’s been a brief pause in the actual relationship aspect of your friendship. There’s no more kissing, but you’d really like there to be. You think Peter’s starting to sweat you out and you have no issues with it. If he wants you to make the first move, you’ll do it.

But it’s all in the timing.

“Did I ever tell you that six weeks ago Nat said she’d do heroin with me?” Popcorn spills on the couch, Peter’s darting his eyes over your arms looking for track marks. “We didn’t do it! She said that if I still felt miserable after six weeks she’d do it with me.”

“Miserable? What, about the breakup?”

“Yeah,” you shove a handful of buttery styrofoam into your mouth. For the first time in weeks it doesn’t hurt to talk about. It’s not even a little sore, there’s no bitterness or resentment. There’s nothing there. It’s pure indifference.

You pushed Peter away because you didn’t want him to be a rebound, you didn’t want to use him to get over someone else. But you haven’t thought of him since… since… you can’t remember the last time you actually thought of him.

But when you think of Peter your heart races, your palms feel warm, your stomach flutters. His kisses ignite you. You wake up in the morning and think of him, you wake up every night to make sure he’s home and go right back to sleep. You walk with him every morning, you wave and smile at school, you come over everyday.

You’re in love with Peter and only Peter.

“I don’t know why I ever thought he was worth that.”

Peter has the answer, it’s muffled around popcorn. “Cause you loved him.” You pick a piece off Peter’s shirt and crunch down on it. “Yeah, I don’t think I knew what love was. How embarrassing.”

He smiles. Your eyes catch the screen again, you shuffle more towards Peter, then stop yourself. “Is it weird if we cuddle?” Peter rips the popcorn bowl between you away, he’s never cuddled with a girl before but he’d be an idiot to say no.

“Weird for who? Weird for me? Weird for us?” Peter doesn’t care about the answer. “Those are rhetorical, just come cuddle me.” It’s all you needed, you press up against him and wait, he’s not moving. Fine with you, you halfway lay on him, head on his chest. You’ve never been this close to him, you’ve kissed him and you’ve made a bold move that backfired, but you’ve never been this soft or domesticated with him.

Peter’s heart is drumming a little fast, you make no comment. Yours is beating at the same rate.

You expected Peter to still like you but you haven’t asked. After what happened maybe he decided you’d be better friends. It wasn’t talked out, you both skimmed over what happened and started hanging out like nothing happened.

But it did and you’re glad. It puts things in perspective. It made you realize how much you like him. You just need to know if it made him feel the opposite.

“Do you still like me?”

“I’m sorry, I’ve never cuddled with anyone before so I don’t really know what-”

“No, I mean do you still like me?” Peter knows what you mean. He doesn’t know how you think he doesn’t. “Of course I do.” You peek up at him, he’s already got eyes on you, it makes your cheeks feel warm.

“Even after I was shitty to you?” Peter laughs, a hard laugh, you move with his jostles. “Honey, you’ve been giving me shit for nine years, it hasn’t slowed me down one bit.”

Honey. It has a nice ring to it, you like it. But the one you’ve always liked hasn’t ever been uttered with endearment and you really want it, you want it to come from Peter’s voice and have it wrap around your ears while your heart bubbles up with giddiness.

“Can you call me sweetheart?”

“Is that the one you like?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart.”

It’s so much sweeter than you imagined.

You’re not sure what details May knows, but she knows you hurt her nephew. She hasn’t said anything but you can feel her watching your back every time you’re with Peter. Her tone isn’t clipped and she’s just as welcoming as before, but you can feel it. You can sense that she isn’t fully trusting.

May had stared at you for a good thirty seconds when she caught you spread across Peter’s lap while he studied. You tried to focus on his rubix cube in your hand, even going as far to prove you’re not a threat by giving him a light kiss on his cheek. She didn’t seem convinced, but she left it alone.

Two days ago she burst into Peter’s room and made it very clear that when you were over the door stays open. Peter tried to fight it, he said that you were just hanging out but she was dead serious, going as far as saying that if he couldn’t handle her rules, he wasn’t allowed to have company.

Peter didn’t tell you that you were the only person with this rule, but you knew you were.

“I just don’t get why you’re making such a big deal out of this, May. She’s just-” You weren’t going to be involved, you weren’t going to give May more ammo.

“Door stays open, Peter. If May says it, we follow it.” Peter doesn’t agree with you, you can tell by the way he nods his head and clicks his pen. When did you start being able to read him? And why do you like it so much?

But the real hint was when you weren’t welcome to stay for dinner the previous night. There��s never been a time May denied you food, most of the times she’d come over begging you to join so they wouldn’t have so many leftovers. But last night she just suggested you go home and prepare for the next day.

You watched Peter’s jaw clench in frustration, then you sweetened him up with a smile and told him you were planning on leaving anyway. You don’t think he bought it. You needed to talk to May, you needed to know she was okay with you and Peter, if she wasn’t- no matter how hard it would hurt, you’d stay away from Peter.

May is all he has and you’re not going to put any strain on their relationship. Not over you.

Peter was staying late at school for math club and it’s your perfect opportunity. A light knock, May answers almost instantly. She’s surprised but she melts into a smile, it’s lacking something. “Oh! Peter isn’t here.”

“I know. I wanted to talk to you.” Now you’ve got her interest. May opens the door wide, you go straight to the kitchen for the batch of cookies Peter made you last night. You can taste the love in them.

“May, I need you to level with me here. Do you have a problem with me dating Peter?” There’s a beat of silence, “are you dating him?” You swallow a bite, “not yet. I needed to make sure it was okay with you.”

“You’re asking for my blessing?” You slightly nod. “More or less. You’ve been really nice but I feel like there’s a little tension. I feel like you don’t totally trust me with him.” Confirmation, but it doesn’t hurt like you think.

“Peter’s a sensitive boy. He does everything a hundred and ten percent. If you want him, he’ll give you more than his all. Can you say the same?” Can you? Yes. It’s without a doubt. You want him and only him and you’d lay your life on the line. There’s been so much wasted time, Peter could’ve been your first but you were too stubborn.

Peter wasn’t your first, but with everything in you he’s going to be your last.

“Yes. I’m in love with him. I love him more than I ever loved anyone, I love him more than I thought was possible. I want to be there for him, I want to support him through the bad days and I want to be by his side for the good ones. I want him and only him, I was just too dumb to see it before.”

May’s mouth etches into a smile, this time it reaches her eyes and she’s hugging you. A whisper in your ear, “I always knew this is how it would end.” You grin into her shoulder, “really?”

“Peter’s nothing but determined. It was only a matter of time.” You know what that means. “Are you giving me your blessing?” She laughs and pulls you closer, “you always had it. I just needed to know you were serious.”

Time passes quickly, you’re three cookies down and you’re itching for a fourth. You swear he puts crack in them. You talk animatedly with May, you’re fawning over her own love story and hoping that that would be your future with Peter. When the door unlocks you perk up, you can’t bite back your smile or tapping feet.

“Whatcha doing here? Hi May.” Your arms spread wide, Peter fills them. “I came to talk to May, I stayed to see your handsome face.” How did you once see it as annoying? How did you once find his smile revolting? He’s the prettiest person you’ve ever seen. You want to kiss him more than anything, May gave you the green light, you press up on your toes to give him a peck.

“I missed you. How was math club? Were you the smartest hunk there? Don’t answer, I already know it’s a yes.” Peter’s still reeling from the kiss but he powers through. “I wouldn’t be too confident about that, sweetheart.” Your heart clenches, him saying it makes your knees feel weak. “Mathew Ryan is in the club with me.”

“I hate blondes. I only like cuties with brown, curly hair by the name of Peter Parker.” His eyes squint at you, it makes you feel warm, you hide back in his chest. May’s watching with heart eyes, she’s never seen you so happy. “You’re laying it on thick today. You must need something.”

“Just you, handsome.” Okay, you might be laying it on a little thick, but you can’t hold it in. You just love him too much, it’s uncontainable. He’s perfect. “May, she’s up to something. I don’t trust it.” His aunt keeps grinning. “I do.”

Peter pats your back, “if you trust it, I guess I have to, too.” You squeeze him tight and mumble into his chest, he still hears you. “What, now?” You asked if you could talk to him, it had him looking down and giving you his full attention.

“What’s up?” Your eyes shoot to his door, message received. Peter leaves a small gap in the door, you pause and poke your head out to his aunt. “Can I shut the door?” A three second count, “permission granted.” It clicks shut, you spin, you have all his attention.

“You said I was never properly loved.”

Peter feels his heart drop, it was the nastiest thing he could ever say to you. Part of him wished you had forgotten but that’s not something that’s forgettable, that’s something that sticks with you forever. He never meant to say it, it was something he spewed out to make you feel just as bad but that’s not who he is and that’s not what he does and he really should’ve apologized way before now.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it. It was a shitty thing to say and I-”

“You weren’t wrong. I haven’t been properly loved. But I’d like for you to show me how it feels.”

Your pulse rises with his silence, Peter holds out a steady hand. “Just to be clear, you’re asking me-”

“If you’d be my boyfriend.”

You let out a soft groan, you’re spinning in his hold and pushing at his arms. “Peter!” He doesn’t care, your feet lightly dangle, you’re laughing with him. “Nuh uh, you’re not allowed to push me away anymore, I’m your boyfriend.”

Boyfriend. Peter Parker is your boyfriend. What a rush of feelings, there’s a new one you haven’t felt before. Pride. You’re prideful that Peter’s your boyfriend, you’ve got the greatest person in the world tethered to your hip and he’s going absolutely nowhere. Ever.

“I’ve been waiting for this day since I was fifteen.” A flurry of kisses over your face, “holy wow, you’re my girlfriend. I can kiss you whenever I want, and I can touch you! Oh, and now I always have someone to eat pizza with. And the science museum! No one ever wants to go to the science museum with me!”

“Holy wow?” You giggle at a string of kisses to your jawline, you never knew someone would be so excited at the thought of dating you. “Wow, wow, wowie, my girlfriend’s a hottie.” You push him away with a disgusted sound, “that’s so gross, Peter.”

“Oops, let me repent with a kiss.”

It’s the fireworks again. This time they’re blinding. Your back burns with his touch, you want to swallow him whole. It’s not lacking passion, but it’s soft. You reach for his shirt collar when he pulls away, this time he laughs.

“I was going to ask if I was a bad kisser but-”

“No.” This time you’re keeping him chained to you with your hands behind his neck. “Best kisser ever,” you give him a chaste one to prove it. “My handsome baby.” Your waist is squeezed, “you’re too nice.” He doesn’t understand, he’ll never be able to understand.

“I wasted so much time, Peter. You were right there and I was so… so stupid that I couldn’t see what was right in front of me. I have no idea why you like me, I was so mean and cruel and I never appreciated you.”

Peter has secrets too. “I was friendly, but I didn’t like you. You were super aggressive and made a point to say something mean… but then Ben died.” The oxygen runs from your lungs, it wasn’t something you thought about, you thought he didn’t either.

It was brutal watching him and May go through that. You remember that night vividly, the night May got the call. You could hear her screams from your room, it’s something you’ll never forget. Her wails, the way she begged to God that it was all a dream. You knew what happened before you could see them and the one thing you thought of in that moment was Peter.

You can still remember the panic you felt, the overwhelming urge to make sure he was okay. You remember your feet skidding across the carpet, the cold hardwood in the hall, the way your middle knuckle split you were knocking so hard.

‘Peter,’ it’s all you had to say. Then you were scooping him into your arms, holding him tight as he sobbed. You kept telling him you were sorry, you brushed his hair back and rubbed circles on his back. You kept him tucked into your neck while he cried, you didn’t tell him it was okay, nothing about that night was okay. You remember holding in your own tears, you swallowed them down and held Peter all night.

Fourteen hours. You had him curled up with you while you kept telling him sorry, you had stayed up all night with him and took care of him. You got him water, you made him eat a snack, you did what you could while they slept. You did laundry, you did the dishes, you made cookies.

Peter’s uncle died and you made him cookies.

Your boyfriend dumped you and Peter made you cookies.

You basically lived there for a week, you slept with Peter, held him with each bout of sadness, and never ever told him it was okay. You held his hand at the funeral and kissed him on the back of it before he gave his eulogy. You made sure he was minimally functioning, you tried to keep him busy with dumb tasks.

After two weeks he didn’t need you anymore and you slowly faded away until it settled into how it used to be. You think Peter liked it a little, not everything had to change because Ben died. But you never went out of your way to hurt him anymore, he didn’t need your help in that department. What used to be petty attacks turned into silence and gentle name calling.

But you were there for him when he needed it. Just how he was with you.

“You pulled an Uncle Ben on me.”

A twitch in his lips, “you were there for me when my world ended, I had to return the favor.” It’s not fair for him to compare the two. “I was broken up with, I didn’t have my-”

“Devastation comes in all forms. It’s not about whos is worse, it’s about being there for someone you care about.” He doesn’t hide his smile, “even if they claim to hate you for all eternity.”

“I don’t hate you anymore.”

“Spoiler alert, you never did.”

You’ve been caught. Peter knew the whole time, he was just waiting on you. “Are you sure you don’t hate me? Cause I’ve been really terrible to you the last month.” Your boyfriend rolls his eyes before giving you a big hug.

“That’s because you’re stubborn and didn’t want to admit you liked me.” You poke his ribs, “you knew?”

“Sweetheart, I knew the day you said I had very pretty eyes.”

“Yeah, you do. Let me see them again, boyfriend.”

The last six weeks you detested love and what it brings. The disaster, the heartbreak, the pain. You never thought you’d love again and definitely not with the neighbor you hated. But right there, in his room, you felt your heart crack open and ooze onto his bedroom floor.

And you watched love begin again.

“Anything for you, girlfriend.”

----

TAGLIST: (some @'s wouldn't show up :(

@hollandweather @imwaytoolazyforthis @sincericida @darling-im-wonderstruck @abucketofweird @conniesanchor @ellieistired @melodicheauxxlovesfood @nyomjoon @buckybarnessweetheart @luqueam @hyacinthhare @prettiest-lover @jakobsdump @vanessa-b @toomanydamfandoms @jamespottersdaisy @sassyrizznerd @arctic0tter @thievin-stealing @cool-ontherun-world @gwengonesplat @sunflowerkiwis @iamawhoreforu @cottonheadedninny-muggins @toezies @1-800-peggy @lnmp89 @ribbonknives @sinceweremutual @luerdelune @pining-and-tired @gorefairies @str4wberry222 @hoetel-manager @rexorangecounty @ellswilliams @peterparkerswhvre @kdbsr-h @astrxq @eatshitanddie- @somethings-going-on-here @m0g444 @oncasette @rainyyouthcoffee @azkzaban @know-its-for-the-better @hellfirescoops

#peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker blurb #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker angst #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter smut #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #my writing

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sethsclearwater · 6 months

Note

thinking about paulxreaderxseth or paulxreaderxjared earlyyyyy into their relationship/imprinting when they first realize she has a daddy kink 🫣 like it takes them having really rough sex for the first time for it to slip out and she’s so embarrassed but they love it and can’t believe it since they thought she was so innocent omfg I’m dying just writing this to you

— the 🫣 anon who stays requesting poly I can’t help it

OH MY GOD??? this would be PERFECT with paulxreaderxjared - these two clowns would just be going absolutely CRAZY when she lets it slip and would never let her live it down💀

...

"taking my cock like such a good girl aren't you?" paul asked as he pounded himself into you, his thrusts remaining unrelenting despite the tears rapidly streaming down your cheeks as you tried your damndest to keep up with him and jared.

the two boys had managed to push you into the subspace on 2 separate occasions, though only just barely. today though seemed to be a completely different story. you were a sobbing mess, barely able to form a coherent sentence as your imprinters fucked you.

before you could even think about it, you were responding to paul, "yes daddy-" you whimpered and that caught both boys' attention, jared letting out a loud laugh as paul let out a low groan, his thrusts stuttering a bit as he tried not to cum right then and there.

"what did you just say to paul babe?" jared asked, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you. he cupped your face in his hand, smiling as you subconsciously leaned into his touch, cheeks a bright pink as you processed what you just said.

"called him daddy," you whispered, peeking up at jared through your tear soaked lashes, your desire to be good for him outweighing your embarassment over the whole thing.

you let out a loud whine when paul reached down to rub your clit with his thumb, picking his thrusts up again when he was sure he wasn't going to cum, "'s what i thought," jared mused, stroking your cheek with his thumb, "didn't think she had a daddy kink," jared teased, allowing his gaze to drift down your body and then up to paul who just laughed and rolled his eyes.

"always full of surprises this one," paul responded, rolling your clit between his fingers which had you letting out a loud sob as you tried to process all the pleasure, more tears streaming down your cheeks at the action, "you gonna cum on daddy's cock, kitten? show me how good my cock feels in that little pussy of yours?" paul teased, keeping his composure together awfully well considering how close he was to shooting his load into you.

you nodded, blubbering some incoherent response before you finally managed to get out, "yes daddy," both boys laughing as you reached up to frantically brush away the tears from your cheeks.

you felt the coil in your belly tightening as you neared your orgasm, quickly reaching your hand back until you found your other imprinter's cock, eliciting a loud groan from the male when you wrapped your fist around his cock.

"want you to cum too daddy," you whimpered, more tears rapidly streaming down your cheeks as you tried your best not to cum until you knew both boys would be cumming with you.

"'m right behind you babe," jared reassed, dropping his head back to let out a loud groan when you began pumping your hand up and down his cock, all three of you desperate for your respective releases.

"go on princess, cum on daddy's cock," paul encouraged, his comment sending you right over to the edge to your orgasm, both boys cumming right after you as promised.

you were desperately sucking in lungfuls of air as you rode our your orgasm, paul's grip on your hips softening as he came down from his high.

once your eyes finally fluttered open a few minutes later, you found jared looking down at you with his usual goofy smile on his face, "so a daddy kink, huh?" he asked, both boys laughing as your cheeks were immediately coated with a dark pink blush.

#poly!jaredxreaderxpaul #poly!paulxreaderxjared #paul lahote #jared cameron #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote fluff #paul lahote smut #paul lahote blurb #jared cameron imagine #jared cameron x reader #jared cameron blurb #jared cameron smut #jared cameron fluff #twilight #the twilight saga #imagine #blurb #smut

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mostmagical · 3 months

Text

for @zodoods, I hope this lives up to expectations 🙏

Words: 4k Summary:

Marinette knew she tended to get tunnel vision when she was focused, but luckily her boyfriend Chat Noir was always there to watch her back as they fought Monarch. With their enemy having disappeared, however, they decided together that it was finally time to reveal themselves. In public. Face to face. It's a little silly to have to introduce yourself to your own boyfriend, but after all, it wasn’t Marinette’s fault that she never knew her boyfriend’s name. (Adrien has never been to school, and Marinette doesn't know him.)

Marinette hadn’t known her smile could be so wide. Staring at herself in the reflection, she couldn’t be bothered to worry about the awful dark circles under her eyes, or the frizzy mess of her hair. Everything could be covered or smoothed over, after all. None of that really mattered. Not when her whole world was about to change.

Today was the day.

“Today,” she breathed the word to herself. “Tikki, can you believe it’s today?” she asked, turning around to look towards her kwami.

Tikki giggled from where she sat atop the dresser. “You and Chat Noir have only been planning it forever,” she replied.

The smile was beginning to make Marinette’s cheeks ache. “We have.”

For months following the disappearance of Monarch, Ladybug and Chat Noir had been planning and mentally preparing to finally reveal their identities to one another, eventually coming to the conclusion that they were both ready for it just a week prior. She could still see Chat’s goofy smile in her mind’s eye, clear as day.

“So, we’re really doing this?” he had asked as they sat atop a rooftop together. “For real?”

“For real,” she had replied, excitedly nodding her head. Taking his hand in hers, she had pressed three rapid kisses to the back of it, trying to impress all of her enthusiasm and all of her love into his skin through the suit. “I can’t wait to meet you, mon Chaton,” she had promised him.

His face was rosy, with that big, beautiful smile of his stretching out his cheeks. “Neither can I, my Lady.”

Marinette let out a low squeal at the not-so-distant memory, pressing her hands against her hot cheeks.

She was going to meet her boyfriend. For the first time.

Well, not exactly the first time, but first enough.

They had plans to meet at a little café just a few blocks from the Grand Palais. He had surprisingly been a bit apprehensive at first, but she assured him everything would be okay. Marinette promised to wear the rose he had given her in her hair, and she was going to look for the boy wearing the scarf she had made him on his pretend birthday (and then he could tell her his real birthday!).

She couldn’t wait.

This day was a long time coming, and Marinette had plenty of fantasies to prove it. She wanted to hold her boyfriend’s hand in public, kiss him and go to the movies, all without a crowd of people taking photos of them. She wanted to goof off and be silly with him, all without worrying about being a hero, or acting like a good role model. She wanted to take him over to her house, and have him meet her parents, and stay for dinner without the threat of a supervillain interrupting the desert.

And after today, all that could finally be reality.

She got to work applying her makeup and wrangling her hair, not wanting to waste another second. Although she was notoriously late for most events, this was something she hoped to actually arrive early to. The ruby red dress she had laid out the previous night while she should have been sleeping was the last to slip over her head, perfectly matching the scarlet of Chat’s rose tucked behind her ear. The knee-length skirt fluttered to and fro as she took one last scrutinizing look in the mirror. Everything had to be perfect for her not-so-first impression.

Once she was finally satisfied, Marinette tossed her purse over her head. As soon as Tikki was settled and comfortable, she at last headed out.

There was a skip in her step the entirety of the walk, completely out of her control.

Although excitement was certainly at the forefront of her emotions, she would be lying if she didn’t acknowledge that little seed of nervousness. What if he didn’t like her? (He would.) What if he wasn’t as kind as she thought, and his personality was nothing more than a front? (Impossible.) What if his nerves got the best of him, and he didn’t show?

With her heart thundering in her chest, she turned the last corner to bring the café into view.

Her eyes zoned in on a mop of blond hair instantly. It was neat and combed back— completely at odds with the wild wind-blown look she was used to seeing on her boyfriend, but something in the way her stomach twisted and swooped inside of her told her that she may have spotted him. Taking slow steps closer, she traced the curve of his posture with her eyes as he sat hunched over the tiny café table, gasping slightly as she located the familiar shade of blue peeking from his collar.

It had to be him. It had to.

A chorus of giggles broke her concentration, drawing her eyes to a gaggle of girls a couple tables over. They were whispering excitedly and pointing in the direction of the same mop of blond hair, all with cell phones raised. A sudden wave of heat ran up Marinette’s spine as she realized they were ogling him.

She wasn’t surprised that girls were looking at him. Chat Noir was the cutest, most handsomest boy in the world, so of course they would. But that was her cutest and most handsomest boy in the world.

Her slow steps quickly evolved into a fast walk until she was right beside him, at which she practically threw herself onto the table, bodyblocking the girls’ view. The boy visibly jumped at her entrance. She glanced at his face for his reaction, but his eyes were covered by large sunglasses, effectively hiding any expression of recognition. Face feeling suddenly warm, Marinette stood back up straight and cleared her throat, casually drumming her fingers against the laminate surface.

“H-hi. I’m looking for my kitten,” she said, uttering the code phrase they had planned to use to confirm each other’s identities.

The boy smiled, instantly easing her worries. “I saw a little bug on the flyer.”

A grin spread across her cheeks before she could stop it, giddiness overflowing to the tips of her fingers. “I found you,” she murmured, just quiet enough to be just for him.

He stood from his seat, still smiling, and Marinette thought he was going in for a hug until he stepped around her. She was only confused for a second before he pulled out the chair on the other side of the table.

“Oh.” So the gentlemanly thing wasn’t an act after all. Accepting the gesture, Marinette turned to sit, feeling him push the chair in behind her as she did so. “Thank you.”

He simply hummed, before returning to his own seat across from her.

“So, um–” Not really sure where to start, (how does one introduce themselves to the boy they’ve been dating for two years?) Marinette figured the basics should go first. She almost wanted to laugh as she realized she was essentially on a blind date with her long-term boyfriend. “I’m Marinette,” she said, tugging at her bangs before pushing them behind her ear.

“Marinette,” he breathed. Breathed, as in he actually sighed her name when he said it. Marinette thought she might melt. “That’s a beautiful name.”

She wondered how dopey her smile must look to him. “Thank you,” she replied. “And you are?”

Thin blond eyebrows raised over the rims of the glasses, before dropping back down out of sight almost as quickly as they appeared. He laughed. “Okay,” he said between chuckles. “I’m Adrien.”

Marinette wasn’t quite sure what was so funny, but his laughter was just as contagious as always. With a giggle, she stuck out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Adrien.”

His returning smile was soft. “Nice to meet you, Marinette.” He took her hand, and turned it to rest atop his on the table, running smooth circles over the back of her palm with his thumb. The feeling of his warm skin on hers was foreign and exciting, setting off yet another flurry of butterflies in her stomach.

“You still wear your pigtails,” he stated.

Naturally, her free hand trailed to her hair. She smiled as her fingers brushed the velvet petals of the rose. “They’re kind of my armor,” she replied with a shrug. “All the better for you to recognize me.”

The corner of his lip twitched, but the soft smile remained unchanged. Part of her wondered if he was still nervous about meeting. Hoping to ease his worries, she grinned.

“And I’m glad to see you don’t wear whiskers,” she joked.

He laughed again, and that seemed to be enough to lower the tension in his shoulders, to Marinette’s relief. “You’re right, I don’t,” he said. “I have a clean public image to maintain, you know.”

Marinette furrowed her brows, trying and most likely failing to hide the confusion on her face. It was surprising; Chat Noir was definitely the type of person who would grow “whiskers” just to commit to the bit. To each their own she supposed. Mustaches did seem to be more supervillain-y than superhero-y, after all.

“I do have to ask, though, what’s with the glasses?” she asked, moving the conversation along. “They’re so big, they’re covering half your face. Any plans to take those off?”

“Well, I–” Adrien’s head turned minutely towards the girls at the table behind her, barely perceptible to anyone who wasn’t looking for it. “I don’t know.” His hand pulled at the scarf where it crossed over his black t-shirt.

“Please,” she insisted, putting on her best baby-doll eyes. “How unfair you get to see all of my face and I can’t see all of yours.” She held his hand tighter, imploring but hopefully he knew it was still light-hearted.

“Marinette, it’s just–”

She pulled out her secret weapon: the pout. His mouth instantly stopped moving.

“I’ve never really seen your eyes before,” she added. At his answering sigh, she felt a bout of pride swell in her chest. Victory.

Hesitantly, he removed the sunglasses and folded them on the table, all the while looking shyly up at her through golden lashes.

Marinette’s pulse quickened as she finally— really— met his eyes. Such strange feelings of déjà vu ran through her when she caught sight of how green they were. It was the first time she had seen his whole face, and yet it already felt so nostalgic and familiar. It was almost as if she had seen him before, and she supposed she had, in her dreams at the least.

“Gorgeous,” she sighed, unable to stop her tongue from embarrassing the rest of her.

All the regret she might have held drained out of her, however, when she saw how pink his cheeks went in response. His dropped jaw slowly curved into a small smile, and those pretty green eyes closed in half moons as he replied, “Thanks for the compliment.”

Was this really the same boy?

Marinette snorted. “What? No cheesy remark about how you knew I wouldn’t be able to resist you?”

“I’m just far too stunned by the beauty in front of me to think straight,” he said, mouth pulled sideways. “I daresay you could outshine me anyday.”

There he is.

She rolled her eyes in response, but she couldn’t deny the coils of warmth that spread across her skin. With a fond shake of her head, she brought one elbow to the top of the table to cradle her chin in her hand.

“You know, you’re taking this really well,” Adrien said, the smirk fading back to a humble smile. It was odd seeing him so reserved. “Better than I thought you would.”

“Taking what well?” she asked. Her heart squeezed in her chest as she recalled his apprehension from the night before. She attempted to keep things light, sliding into a teasing tone as she conspiratorially whispered, “Did you think I wouldn’t like you without the cat ears, mon Chaton?”

“Well, no, that’s not exactly—”

She cut him off, making sure to speak with all the sincerity she could muster, “Because there is no universe where I wouldn’t like you.” With a coy wink, she added, “Believe me. I checked.” She grinned with pride as her fingers squeezed his on the table, feeling as though she had one-upped him in cheesiness.

Again, his mouth hung open slightly as he processed her words, but soon morphed back into the soft smile. His head tilted to the side. “You always know what to say to make me happy, my–” The corners of his lips twitched, his intended endearment clear to both of them— “my Marinette,” he said instead, pulling their joined hands up to brush his lips against the back of her palm.

Dimly, Marinette registered the sound of a squeal from somewhere behind her.

“But, um, no.” His countenance took on a much more nervous expression, his free hand drifting back to play with the nape of his neck. “I meant more–” He paused, waving his hand awkwardly towards himself.

“What?”

His brows furrowed, mouth open and clearly poised to explain himself, but he was interrupted by a waiter arriving to take their orders, and the moment was surreptitiously forgotten.

As the date went on, conversation flowed freely between them. Marinette learned so many of his favorite things, what he was studying in school, that he was an only child just like her, and of course, his birthday, time and year. So many things that she would normally have naturally learned over time, which was something that she took for granted in her other relationships with family and friends. It was odd, but wonderful that this absurd blind date was just another unique experience that they could share together.

She would have been more than happy to talk to him forever if she could, but a trill from Adrien’s phone stopped their conversation short.

His eyebrows turned down as he read the screen. “How did it get so late?” he pouted, just as cute as before when he wore cat ears on his head. “I’m sorry, Marinette, but I have to go.”

Her smile was sympathetic, barely holding herself back from mirroring his pout. “That’s okay,” she replied. “We’ll just have to have our next date sooner.”

The answering smile on his face made it all worth it.

Adrien’s fingers flew across his keyboard for a second, before another trill responded. “My bodyguard says he can take you home, though!” he announced happily. “So we can spend a little more time together.”

Marinette couldn’t stop the confused noise from escaping her mouth. “Your…bodyguard?” she repeated slowly.

“Yeah!” He looked up from his phone, lips softly quirked upwards. “And don’t worry; he may look mean but he’s the kindest man I’ve ever met.”

That certainly wasn’t something Marinette was worried about, but now she felt like she needed to be.

She tried to cross the appropriate wires in her head. Okay, so Chat Noir, famed superhero of Paris and wielder of the power of destruction, had a bodyguard in his everyday life. And that bodyguard apparently drove him places?

Perhaps she needed to collect more evidence.

Too busy thinking to come up with anything to say, Marinette mutely nodded her agreement.

Having already paid the bill�� well, Adrien paid, despite her protests—, the two stood from their seats and headed down the sidewalk. Marinette followed Adrien closely, too busy sweeping her eyes across the busy street to spot this ‘mean-looking’ man to notice Adrien’s knuckles bumping into hers. She finally looked up at him when he laced their fingers together and squeezed. His green eyes almost seemed to shimmer as they looked into hers, and Marinette could feel all that wound-up tension melt away in response.

The spell between them was broken by a sudden honk.

Adrien was the first to break eye contact, turning back towards the street. “Oh! There he is.”

Marinette followed his gaze. Her eyes widened as they landed on the sleek sedan that had pulled up to the curb in front of them. She didn’t know much about cars, but she knew enough to identify the logo of a luxury brand. The car was well-washed and shiny, unlike most of the vehicles that parked along the dirty city streets.

A burly man emerged from the driver’s side door, and walked around the car. To Adrien’s credit, he did seem a bit scary, based on sheer size alone, but Marinette supposed her Papa was probably about the same size. She figured if the man smiled a bit more, he would come off much friendlier. He greeted the two of them with little more than a low grunt and a nod, before briskly opening the rear passenger side door.

Marinette froze in place as she waited for one of the others to move. She couldn’t for the life of her understand what was going on. Was Adrien going to drive and this man was graciously letting her have the front seat?

“Marinette?” Adrien cleared his throat. “Are you ready to go?”

She blinked a few times, looking back and forth between the open door and her boyfriend’s face. “Um, yes,” she replied nervously. “I’m ready.”

He bowed his head, gesturing with his free hand towards the open door. “Then, after you, my lady.”

The familiar name quelled the voices in her head long enough for her to step forward. “Thank you, my prince,” she teased in response.

Though she did step in first, she held fast to his hand, pulling him along with her. The inside of the sedan was just as clean as the outside. Small tablets nestled into the back of both front headrests, and a far fancier screen than Marinette had in any of her devices at home was centerstage on the dashboard. She could feel her eyes widening as she took it all in.

Chat Noir was rich.

Chloé Bourgeois rich, maybe.

That was… unexpected. Admittedly, she never imagined Chat to have a high-class upbringing (if she could even call Chloé’s that). She had always envisioned him as a rough and tumble sort of kid. He would take soda over wine any day. Canned tuna over caviar. He had never turned up his nose to fast food, or cheap nosebleed seats at a concert, or acted like he was any better than anyone else.

No, Chat– Adrien— was amiable, gracious, and an appreciator of the little things–

“Marinette?”

She whipped her head around to meet her boyfriend’s gaze, having been yanked from her thoughts. “Yes?”

Adrien seemed to be holding back a laugh, clearly having recognized her thinking face. “Your address?”

“Oh!” She leaned forward in her seat, directing her attention to the driver. “12 Rue Gotlib, if you’re sure you don’t mind.”

Adrien’s face lit up in the rearview mirror. “That’s just around the corner from us!”

“Really?” She was reminded of that flash of déjà vu she had felt upon seeing his face for the first time. Maybe they had met before. Most people who lived in the 21st arrondissement got their baked goods from her parents’ bakery, and Marinette often worked the front counter. They must have had at least one encounter before as their civilian selves.

It was almost a shame.

She would have loved to know that her favorite person was just around the corner.

He tightened his grip on her hand as she turned back to face him. “Almost too good to be true,” he said, echoing her thoughts.

All lamentations of lost time were forgotten at that, and she chose instead to be happy in the moment they had now. She smiled, squeezing his hand back.

They were content to spend the short ride in comfortable silence after having spent the majority of their time together with endless conversations. Adrien’s bodyguard didn’t ask any questions after Marinette gave her address, so she saw no reason to try chatting with him when she could cuddle into Adrien’s arm instead. The world was pink and fuzzy, and the only leather pressed against her skin was that of the car seats. Feeling the rise and fall of Chat Noir’s breaths through warm cotton was a wholly different, welcome experience.

The ride was too short, however, and before she knew it, they had pulled up in front of her family’s bakery.

Adrien’s short intake of breath pulled her eyes upwards, and she noticed him staring at the sign with eyes full of wonder. “Whoa, you live so close to the boulangerie,” he noted.

Marinette grinned. “Well, yeah, I live above it,” she said, delighted when his head whipped back to face her. “My parents own it.”

His eyes looked about ready to bulge out of their sockets. “You do?”

She pointed to the sign. “And I designed the logo. Tom and Sabine Boulangerie,” —she turned the finger towards herself— “Tom and Sabine daughter.”

Adrien’s face was painted with the most excitement she had seen from him all day. “That’s so cool! They have the best macarons— I’ve had some at events when we get catering— and I’ve asked Nathalie a few times, but, well–” His face was a bit pink as he paused. “You’re amazing, Marinette.”

“I’ll have to bring you some macarons next time I see you,” she giggled.

His eyebrows danced over his eyes. “Now I know why you’re so sweet.”

“Oh, hush.” She lightly shoved his shoulder. “Takes one to know one.”

Following some pointed clearings of the throat from the driver’s seat, they eventually got out of the car and Adrien walked her to her door. She left him with a quick kiss and a promise to text him later.

The remainder of the day went by in a blissful blur. Dinner, homework, and television with her parents faded into the background as she slipped lovingly into her daydreams. Adrien was too busy to talk, but he had sent her a few hearts and memes throughout the evening, and she looked over all of them with her chest fit to burst. Before she knew it, it was time for bed and they were texting each other good night.

It wasn’t until the next morning that Marinette realized the true shift the world had undergone.

The incessant buzzing of her phone was an unwanted wakeup call. Marinette blindly slapped her hand against the mattress until her fingers met the smooth plastic of her phone case. She slowly cracked her eyes open as the screen lit up again with notifications.

New Message - 🦊Alya🔥(32), Missed Call - 🦊Alya🔥 (2), New Message - Adrien ♥️🐈

Wondering what was so desperate for Alya to be blowing up her phone so early, Marinette quickly responded to Adrien’s “Good morning <3” in kind before opening the floodgates. She was immediately treated to a number of news articles, all caps messages, and photos. Photos of her and Adrien.

Her fingers flew through the slideshow of photographs: Adrien waiting alone with those ridiculous sunglasses, herself haphazardly draped over the table, Adrien kissing her hand, the both of them stepping into his car. She paused on one of the last photos. It was of the two of them, hand-in-hand as they waited for their ride. Adrien’s soft eyes that had mesmerized her up close were just as soft from a careful distance.

She blinked rapidly as she processed it all.

How did Alya get these?

Scrolling back up in her conversation history with Alya, she looked at the articles again, scanning over the headlines: “Adrien Agreste - Dating?” “Adrien Hits the Town with Mystery Girl!” “Who Caught the Eye of Adrien Agreste?” “Agreste Son is Growing Up!”

…Agreste?

The conversation shot down to the bottom as another text from Alya came in: CANT BELIEVE YOU DIDNT TELL ME????

Faster than she could process, Marinette swiped away from her messages to plug “Adrien Agreste'' into her search engine. A shocking thousands of images popped up, all of her boyfriend in various poses and campaigns— including one with the bowler hat she had designed for a competition run by Gabriel Agreste.

A banner notification popped up at the top of her screen, Marinette’s finger tapping it automatically.

Adrien ♥️🐈: I have a photoshoot until around noon, but do you want to get ice cream after?

Marinette dropped the phone as everything suddenly became clear.

Perhaps maybe their civilian relationship wasn’t about to be quite as low-key as she thought.

#ml fic #ml fanfic #miraculous ladybug #adrinette #ladynoir #love square #miraculous #ml #this is very unserious #i wanted the first fic of the new year to be Serious but we are starting it GOOFY okay #my writing #it's just all dramatic irony in here

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cindylcuwho · 24 days

Note

stepdad!chris hcs next?no rushobvi i love ur work and the stepdad!matt ones were amazinggg

“ stepdad! chris headcanons ★ “

— ꒰ 🍒 𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒 ꒱ headcanons of chris as a stepdad (son)

— ꒰ 🐁 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 ꒱ no warning, pure fluff! the kids name is aiden cus i needed a name 😭😭😭

— ꒰ 🗯️ 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖽𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾 ꒱ here i’m done

chris with a little kid (3-5ish)

— let’s start this off with there was no hiding your son from chris.

— chris just wanted to check the time and when he clicked your phone on, a pic of the little baby clinging to your chest with a goofy smile was staring back at him.

— he didn’t want to intrude but the questions consumed him until asking who the kid was, was all he wanted to do. “have you seen my toothbr–“ “do you have a kid or does you dad still have game?”

— when night came and the triplets dropped you off at your apartment, chris kissed you goodbye .. and then you didn’t hear from him for a straight week.

— you were used to guys running off after discovering you had a child, many didn’t want the responsibility so you couldn’t really be upset. but chris was truly the sweetest you’ve been with so when he didn’t answer his phone all you wanted to do was stay in bed and cry.

— but you couldn’t. you had work, and you had another person that needed caring. so fuck heartbreak, you didn’t need a man, you created the best one (in a non weird boy-mom way）

— chris did eventually show up at your door, and when he did it was the first time he’s ever been that serious about something. nick and matt definitely took part in yelling talking some sense into him.

— he even stayed the night, keeping a hand wrapped around you waist as you cuddled, pulling you closer whilst whispering sweet nothings and apologizing for being a jackass the whole week.

— chris woke up to the kid jumping on him. as soon as he let out a laugh from the hyperness and a “woah! hey there lil’ guy” aiden stopped and stared at him with wide eyes in awe until you finally woke up.

— you and chris were more careful since that morning, just incase you two did break things off after a couple months you didn’t want to expose your own son to that, chris was kind of upset but still respected your motherly wishes.

— a little over a year later chris was over frequently but not fully moved in. aiden was yet to be used to not being the only man in the house, which only made chris laugh anytime he’d blubber out some nonsense on how your only his mommy.

— but when he finally began thinking for himself, aiden quickly became a mini chris. in his eyes, chris was the coolest person he knew, listened to the coolest music, dressed the coolest, talked the coolest, everything.

— chris was scared shitless when you called asking if he could somehow pick aiden up from kindergarten whilst you go to a job interview. he had never been left alone with a little kid for more than five minutes, and wasn’t sure if the teacher would let the little guy leave with him, but he still said yes - not wanting to disappoint you.

— aiden was starstruck when he looked up from where he was sitting to see chris walking closer. he ran over and hugged his leg, and it’s a surprise he even let go.

— chris did anything aiden wanted to do while taking care of him, even demolishing old lego sets so he could re-build them with the help of his new little buddy.

— they colored, sipped juice boxes while watching spongebob, and even played with the cool dino toys you had gotten him.

— aiden wasn’t stupid, he knew chris wasn’t his dad and he was alright with it. the problem was when word got around that you met somebody that it not only spread across the parents, but to the kids in his class.

— all he wanted to do was play with his friends on the playground, but another little boy decided to wreck the fun and make fun of aiden for having a ‘fake dad’ ‘cus his actual one didn’t want him.

— your voice rang through his little mind as he took the words in, you always said violence would never solve anything, but when another kid decided to tease and say “my dad said he’s gonna leave just like your other one ‘cause your moms the worst.” all hell broke loose.

— aiden managed to land in the principals office, crying tears as he waited for you to show up for the parents meeting. the look on your face only made it worse, he didn’t want to upset his mom but he knew what the other kids were saying was bad.

— on the brighter side, you brought chris along with you, who had brought him a little snack to help calm him down.

— throughout the meeting chris kept giving snarky glances the fathers way. chris is knowingly on the less mature side, but hearing that not only did someone have the audacity to insult his woman, a very hard working and loving woman, they had even more audacity to do it during a dinner where his kid was bound to here it.

— the more the dad tried to explain what he meant the more chris wanted to jump up and fight him himself, but he knew to keep quiet. he’d hate himself for being the reason anybody thinks aidens lash out was because thats what goes on at home.

— the car ride home was more pleasant than aiden thought. he thought he was getting a sturn talking to, maybe even a timeout, but instead he got a happy meal and got to build more lego sets with chris.

— chris was totally taken aback when aiden began calling him dad. it was all so random too, he had simply asked for a popsicle and when received he said “thank you dad!” and continued casually playing games on your phone.

— he walked away before walking back like “???”, he was used to ‘cool guy’ and ‘chris!’ definitely not dad. he stared at the back of his little head before walking back to his original position- thinking it was just an accident.

— but then the accident happened again.. and then again.. and then within a month chris proudly wore a “father of the year” with gru on the front that matt bought him as a joke.

— he loved having little family moments with you two, and loved that he was considered part of the family. chris never saw himself as a dad, like psychically couldn’t and thought he’d always be too immature, but there he was at every single thing aiden wanted to participate in, and cheering the loudest.

— chris broke down crying when aiden came home showing off his drawn family picture. you were on the left, and there chris was on the right, with little stick drawings of nick, matt, and justin in the background.

— chris got it printed and made sure everybody hung it on their fridge, but kept the original on a wall in your room alongside the many more drawings aiden would bring home.

— ꒰ 🗯️ 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖽𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾 part two ꒱ i don’t like the end but i couldn’t think of a conclusion lmao

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boydepartment · 10 months

Text

Speak now- Jake Sim x Fem! Reader

THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO ONLY BE 700 WORDS..... WHOOPS-

MASTERLIST inspired by Taylor Swift's Speak now <3, there's honestly not a lot of detail in this it was just fun to write! it’s fluff and crack

i was feeling a lil goofy wc- 1.3k

“This is a horrible idea; I can’t believe you talked me into this…” You mumbled as you walked up the cobble steps of the venue.

“Listen, you are the only one he will listen to, he’s only marrying her because of... something…” Riki said as you both rushed. You felt sick to your stomach and Riki was hiding something- which was never good.

When you found out your childhood best friend was getting married you were in shock. You were only gone for a month and right before you left your relationship was anything but platonic.

---

You looked up at him through your laughter, he had just pushed you in the pool, “JAKE YOU’RE SO DUMB!”

“You’re literally LAUGHING!” He knelt by the edge of the pool, smiling wide at you.

You moved the wet hair out of your eyes and couldn’t help but smile back, “at least help me out?”

“I’m not dumb Y/n…” Jake got up to walk away, but then turned around and jumped in the pool. Both of you were now soaked in the pool in your clothes.

You were laughing as he swam up to you, “do you have to go on that vacation?” He asked, both of you swam to the shallow end.

“It’s not a vacation, it’s charity work in another country.” You said and leaned up looking at the sky above you. It was dark and the stars were actually out tonight.

Jake sighed and looked at you, “still, I’m going to miss you, a lot.”

Your head tilted towards him to find his eyes still on you, “what? Do I have a bee in my hair?”

He shook his head no, chlorinated water dripping off the soaked strands. Jake stayed silent.

“What then?” You looked confused, smiling.

“I love you.”

Your smile was replaced with a shocked face, honestly, you thought you were deep in the friend zone…

“Well now you’re looking at me like I have nine heads!” His tone was a little accusatory which brought your smile back.

“Is this like a friend ‘I love you’?” You asked, wanting to make sure.

Jake shook his head no, “this is an ‘I’m in love with you’ ‘I love you.’”

The happiness on your face didn’t fade even when you leaned in to kiss him, “wait for me, I’ll be back in a couple months.”

---

“What if he loves her?” You stopped Riki in his tracks, you guys were outside of the room, no one was in their seats yet, but you could tell it was almost time. You felt sick, it had been a MONTH since you left- what happened!? This could be a mistake; you could have left your volunteer work early for a horrible misunderstanding.

“Y/n, he doesn’t!” Riki pulled you along behind a curtain, people were coming, and the room was starting to fill up.

“How do you know that?” You whisper yelled at him, yanking his ear, it must’ve shaken the whole curtain because next thing you knew Heeseung was in the curtain too.

“You’re alive!?”

You looked at him like he was crazy, “what the fuck is that supposed to mean!?” Your eyes went to Riki, and he cringed.

“Yeah… About that..-“

“His stupid fiancé said you died in like an earthquake or something!” Heeseung whispered, “we have to get you to Jake right now! I knew those stupid articles she showed us looked weird!”

Riki stopped him, “he literally locked himself in his dressing room!”

“Have Y/n knock on the door dumbass!” Heeseung said and waved his hands around, once again shaking the curtain.

“Where even is he now?” You asked, your eyes frantic, PEOPLE THOUGHT YOU DIED!?

“There you are! We need to get up there!” Sunoo peaked behind the curtain and made eye contact with you, “AH A GHOST!”

Heeseung rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, the music started, and the three boys scattered. Leaving you alone.

Leaving you to face this alone.

You watched as the music got louder; you watched as your childhood best friend walked to his place. Jake was still as you remembered him, brown hair, kind of scruffy looking, the only thing that was missing was his smile. The decorations were obviously all done by her, you knew out of all the colors this was his least favorite. Nothing about this situation seemed like your best friend. Not to be delusional but clearly his bride didn’t know him.

The flower girl came, and then there was his bride… This was the girl that faked your death… It was almost laughable. Your eyes travelled to Jake, expecting to get your heart broken.

When he saw her, he looked empty, your heart broke in another sense at that moment. You wished it was you who was walking down the aisle, you wished he was smiling at you, your eyes went to Riki and Heeseung.

They started to eye you, telling you to show yourself. Jake looked at them, they must’ve looked crazy. His eyes went to follow theirs. Your breath hitched. You tried to calm yourself down, you were about to ruin some girl’s life. Not that you felt bad, she DID fake your death. In fact, you’re probably saving Jake from marrying a psycho. Your thoughts got interrupted when you heard the preacher speak.

“Speak now or forever hold your peace…”

Your heartbeat quickened and you quickly ran out of the curtain, “WAIT WAIT WAIT!”

You looked around you and everyone looked like they had seen a ghost, quite like Sunoo’s reaction.

“Y/n…!” Your eyes met Jake’s; he was close to tears seeing you. You didn’t even notice that your favorite flower was in his suit pocket.

“I knew she was alive!” His mom stood up and quickly went to your side, “I couldn’t find shit online about you dying!” She put her arm around you and squeezed. You smiled up at her then looked at Jake who was about to run to you, but his bride stopped him.

“She left you.”

The absolute audacity to slander you!

“No, she didn’t! She went to do charity work!” Jake pushed her hand off him, “you faked her death!”

“ISNT THAT ILLEGAL!” Riki yelled, trying to act like he didn’t reach out to you and get you back home. He covered his ‘shocked’ face with his palm.

When the bride looked at Riki, she was angry. Jake took this opportunity to run towards you. He engulfed you in a hug. Jake was scared that if he let you go, you’d become a ghost. When he did pull away his mom looked at him.

“Go, I’ll handle this.”

Jake’s grin was back, and he grabbed onto you before rushing out of the building. Once outside he ran down the cobblestone steps. There were some people congratulating you two as if you were the ones to get married. Jake just laughed and thanked them. In that moment, you wanted nothing more than to stay by his side forever.

---

“I can’t believe you thought I was dead!” You said as you put the takeout on the kitchen counter.

“They were convincing articles!” He came up behind you and flipped you around, his hands on your waist, “how was I supposed to know she faked ALL of them.”

“Your mom didn’t even buy them.” You teased him. Jake rolled his eyes.

“Can I kiss the ghost of the girl I’m in love with now?”

You thought for a moment, “can you?”

“Ha-ha, may I?” Jake spoke sarcastically, still grinning.

You got up on your tip toes and kissed him, he held you so carefully. Just this morning he thought you were dead. He had never been so thankful to be wrong in his life.

“Next time I’m preparing for a wedding it’s going to be for me and you…” He mumbled against your lips, “thank you for being there when they said speak now…”

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avatarmerida · 7 months

Text

This is inspired by a tweet I say awhile ago that I can’t find anymore (but when I do I will link it here) with the idea of Darius brining in Willow as Hunter’s personal trainer. It’s just goofy and cute I think.

“Based on the less than satisfactory results of your last mission, I’ve made the executive decision to get you a personal trainer,” said Darius with a smirk as he walked the young boy out to the training area. Hunter was less than thrilled about the idea and made no effort to hide it.

“Seriously?” He scoffed, crossing his arms. “I’m hardly the coven head who needs a personal trainer! When’s the last time Terra did laps? I’m positive that any trainer you could find would just slow me down.”

“I think I’d meet the trainer before speaking so harshly, little prince,” said Darius. “You may find that they do in fact have a few things to teach you.”

“I highly doubt that,” he continued, rolling his eyes. “Honestly, this whole idea is a waste of time and a load of-.”

“Hi Hunter!” Came a bubbly, bright, and familiar voice. Hunter’s blood froze as his cheeks reddened, thinking her an illusion at first.

“C-Captain!” He croaked, both delighted and mortified. Had he known it was her he would’ve been on time and he would’ve made more of an effort with his appearance. “H-hey! Hi! How are you?”

She giggled. “I’m great,” she said with a smile, using a vine to slide closer to him. “You ready for some training?”

“Yeah! Totally! Haha.” He responded nervously. “I’d do anything with you! For you! Uh, I mean, yes I am ready for training.”

“Smooth,” said Darius and Hunter shot him a glare over his shoulder. Willow didn’t seem to notice.

“So uh, I didn’t know that you were uh… coming today,” started Hunter, not knowing how to say what he meant. “I mean, I-I’m happy to see you! Again! I just uh…”

“Sorry I didn’t tell you,” said Willow with a smile. “It was kind of last minute and Darius wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Oh he did, did he?” Hunter said between clenched teeth. He wondered what kind of ‘surprise’ Darius intended it to be. It would explain why he kept asking about her with a knowing smirk lately.

“Have fun, you two,” Darius said with a wave as he disappeared around the corner. “You can thank me later, little prince.”

“Okay! Haha! Byeeee!” said Hunter forcefully before turning back to Willow, hoping she could tell he was genuinely delighted to see her, despite the ambush of it all. She was wearing a yellow tank top with striped green shorts, and Hunter wondered if she had come prepared or if she had been interrupted by Darius’ request. Surely she was being compensated for her time, there was no way she’d be willing to give up a whole afternoon to help him. He had told her about the castle’s training facility and the equipment, maybe she just wanted to see it for herself. For some reason he couldn’t allow himself to believe she’d come all this way because she liked the idea of spending time with him.

“Where’s Flapjack?” she asked, interrupting his mental spiral. He didn’t realize he had been staring.

“Oh, uh…” Hunter quickly looked around before stepping closer to her to whisper. “I’m uh technically not supposed to have a palisman so he’s taking a nap in my room.”

“Oh, gotcha,” she whispered back. Clover flew onto her shoulder and buzzed something into her ear. “Yeah, good idea,” she said to the little bee. “You go find him and you two can play, so long as you stay out of sight, got it?” Clover gave a little nod before flying away.

“Looks like it’s just you and me,” said Willow softly and Hunter knew his face envied the grass beneath their feet. It was odd seeing Willow here, she seemed so out of place yet she brought a warmth the castle needed that made him wish she’d stay forever.

“Yeah,” he said, unable to stop his smile. “Looks like it is.”

“Okay, so how do you normally warm up?” she asked as she stretched her arms.

“Oh, I’m always warmed up,” he said quickly. “You never know when an attack might come so I make sure I’m always, ya know, ready to go.”

“I figured as much,” she giggled. “Well then, do you mind helping me catch up?”

He smiled. “Lead the way, captain.”

“All right then,” grinned Willow, grabbing her ankle to stretch out her legs. “Let’s see if you can keep up, golden boy.”

She took off and Hunter knew that realistically they should be doing more of a jog, something to keep a steady pace and regulate their heart rate but Willow ran free as though challenging him to catch her. He didn’t know why he thought of catching her not beating her but he started running nevertheless. Willow turned around, delighted to see him running after her as the two soon ran side by side. Usually Hunter didn’t find running enjoyable, but Willow had a habit of changing his perspective fairly easily.

He was so focused on the endorphins, he didn’t notice Willow slyly glance at him from the corner of her eye. She was grateful he didn’t see, so he wouldn’t suspect it was because she thought the way he scrunched his face as he ran was terribly cute.

After a few laps around the area, the two were ready for Willow’s lesson plan.

“Alright, so what did you wanna work on first?” Willow asked brightly, looking around the outdoor gym and the wide array of tools at their disposal. There were weights, weapons, obstacle courses; only the best for the Isles’ best. It was like being in a candy store.

“Oh, uh ya know whatever you wanna do,” Hunter responded, attempting to be nonchalant. “I-I’m totally chill, totally like not even like… ya know just whatever you think I’m sure uh…”

“Well, Darius mentioned you were having trouble with one on one stuff,” offered Willow, cutting off his rambing despite finding it endearing.

“Well I normally use my teleporting, so I-,” before Hunter could finish, Willow took the staff from him.

“But what if you couldn’t?” Willow said mischievously.

Hunter smirked and went to take his staff back but Willow whisked it out of reach at the last second. “Okay,” he said, her mischievousness spreading as she twirled his property behind her back. “Worried I’m too quick for you captain?”

“Mhmm, not exactly,” she chuckled. “But my dads were telling me about drills they used to do for flyer derby. See, using magic is great but sometimes when you’re in triple overtime you start feeling drained and your magic can get sloppy or weak.”

“Yeah, but mine is artificial so I don’t have to worry about that,” he countered.

“You do when you’re unarmed,” she said, swiftly bringing the staff out from behind her back and sweeping him off his feet with it. He didn’t land on the hard ground, as she had a large soft flower ready to catch him.

“Fair enough,” he said from the comfort of his personal flower. “But is playing keep away really part of your curriculum?”

“I know it seems a little silly,” she said as she walked around him. “But that’s what flyer derby is, the winner isn’t always the one who delivers the hardest blow, it’s usually the one with the most endurance.”

“Hmm, yeah I get it,” he said. Hunter had become accustomed to dodging blows and only striking when necessary, and a part of him lit up at the thought of getting to impress Willow by executing her vision perfectly. “Sounds like a good plan Captain, but then shouldn’t I have something to defend too? I mean, if my objective is to retrieve my staff and your only objective is to keep it from me, in a battle you’d simply need to find a way to escape to win. Doesn’t seem like a believable scenario for you to fight me without cause of your own.”

“Hmm, okay far enough,” she said, seeing his point. “I don’t know if I have anything with me to try and- oh! What about my glasses?”

“Your glasses?” said Hunter, as he finally stood up. “But you need them to see.”

“And they get knocked off all the time in practice,” she said. “I cast a protection spell on them before each practice so I'm not worried about them breaking but when they fall off they slow me down and other teams try to do it on purpose if the match is close enough. It would be a good challenge to try and heighten my other senses.”

“You want me to take your glasses?”

“They won’t break,” she assured him as she removed them, shaking her head as she did. The motion made Hunter’s heart flip a little bit, the way she subconsciously flipped her hair. He liked her glasses, he viewed them as frames like her eyes were watercolors on display. But without them he could see her eyes even clearer and even better she wasn’t able to see him stare.

“Here,” she said, squinting as she handed them to him. “You can put them on the front of your shirt, it’ll be just like in derby practice.”

He held up her glasses to see how they altered the scenery. “Oh wow, you really can’t see anything, huh?”

“Oh stop,” Willow teased back. “As if you can see any better in that mask of yours.”

“Excuse you, I can see just fine,”

“Suuure you can,” scoffed Willow, walking over to the bench to pick it up. She observed it for a moment, somewhat taken back by how it wasn’t as shiny up close. She didn’t think too much about the dents and scratches she could tell he had attempted to buff out as she placed it on her face, trying to line up her eyes. “Oh wow, you really can’t see anything in this.”

“What? Yes I can,” laughed Hunter at her dramatics. “You just can’t see anything because you took off your glasses.”

“Even so, the eye thing is so small,” she continued as she continued to turn to try and make out her surroundings. “Plus it’s so echoey, how can you hear anything in this? Is that why you do the voice?”

“‘The voice?’ What voice?”

“Ya know, your serious voice,” she said as though it was totally obvious. “When you’re all ‘here’s how things are gonna work, I’m the Golden Guard, bow down to me har har har.’”

“‘Har har har?’” Hunter repeated, unimpressed as he crossed his arms. “When have I ever said that?”

“Well, I dunno you don’t do the voice to me,” admitted Willow. “It’s mostly an impression of Luz’s impression of you.”

He couldn’t say he was totally clueless to what she meant, the mask gave him the opportunity to be taken seriously. But he liked that Willow knew a different side of him, that she could see through his act. Had anybody else done an impression of him, it would be to try and make him feel small or less than but when she did it, it was funny. Because he knew that she knew he was so much more, that the mask truly was just something on the surface.

He couldn’t help but smile as she went on to create her own character with his mask, inventing her own version of the voice and her own crime fighting backstory. She was silly, and he wasn’t used to having silliness in his life. She was genuine and kind and strong and pretty and… Titan, when he started thinking about all the things she was, it was like he couldn’t stop. He had never had someone in his life like her and he was convinced it was because there was no one out there quite like Willow Park. But he didn’t think too much into his overthinking, he assumed everyone felt this way about her.

Right now he was trying not to focus on the fact that her lips were touching where his normally did and how it didn’t seem to bother her. He knew he’d think about it every time he wore the mask from now on.

“Anyway,” Willow wrapped up her impromptu performance, realizing she had gotten carried away. “We should probably get started, huh?”

Hunter didn’t realize he had been staring and had to shake himself out of his daze to answer her. “Oh, yeah! Sure, o-of course.”

“Okay then,” Willow smiled, handing him his mask back. “Derby rules: first one to get their item back wins.”

“Alright,” agreed Hunter, making sure her glasses were secure hanging from his shirt. “So since you have my staff, I’m guessing no magic then?”

“Weeell, I mean I still have my magic,” Willow teased and even without her glasses she could tell Hunter was lovingly rolling his eyes. “Fine, no magic. Just good old fashioned hand to hand combat, for now at least.” She gave him a wink.

“Fine,” said Hunter as he watched Willow tighten her braids. The idea of competition brought out a certain light in her eyes and it made Hunter excited. He knew Willow liked his competitive side, but usually they were on a team together. Competing against her was different.

“I mean, if you need to use magic I-I don’t mind,” he said quickly.

“I’m okay,” she assured him. “Besides, I don’t wanna do too much damage to your field here.”

“Yeah, yeah totally,” said Hunter, clearing his throat. “I just don’t want to uh…”

“Oh,” said Willow, seeing the hesitation in his eyes. “Hunter, it’s okay if you beat me ya know.”

“You… won’t be mad?”

She shook her head. “Of course not,” she smiled sincerely. “Knowing your strengths will help me help you. And you not holding back will help me get better too.”

“It’s just that… when I spar with the other scouts they always get upset when I win and then they don’t wanna… uh.”

“Ohhh,” she said, really understanding. “Hunter, if we spar and I win will you stop being my friend?”

“No!” He responded immediately. He remembered the utter euphoria he felt when Willow had referred to him as her friend when they were messaging one night. He had been asking about her day, simultaneously vicariously living through her and wishing he could be there in person when she mentioned her dads asked about him and wanted to have him over for dinner as they did with all her friends.

He waited for her to unsend or correct the message but she didn’t. She meant it. He was her friend and she wasn’t afraid to let everyone know. He was beyond honored to be considered her friend, and he would do absolutely anything to make sure he did not lose that title.

“Of course not,” he said with conviction and Willow nodded.

“Exactly, so if you win I’m not gonna stop liking you or anything I’m just gonna try harder next time,” she said as though it was truly so easy. “I mean, if you win. I don’t plan on going easy on you.” She spun his staff around herself as though to emphasize her point and the light in her eyes was contagious as Hunter felt motivated again. He donned his mask and took his usual fighting stance, waiting for her to deliver the first blow as he prepared his strategy in his head.

Hunter was quick but Willow was tricky. Both their strategies revolved around defending and similarity made it difficult to properly start as neither of them wanted to strike the other. But once they prioritized the task at hand (retrieving their items) they became more comfortable with the idea.

Willow made the first move, using Hunter’s staff to launch herself towards him to try and snatch her glasses from him. But Hunter quickly countered and leapt over her, getting his hands on his staff but not succeeding in removing it from Willow’s grasp. She used the momentum to send him flying toward the ground, but he was able to rise to his feet no problem. Hunter knew he had the upper hand, he knew the area better and he had a bigger target to claim. But Willow was true to her word about not making it easy for him. She didn’t play dirty as many of the scouts did and Hunter was giddy at the idea of truly getting to test his skills.

Willow couldn’t help but think of it like dancing. The way their steps complimented each other, the way they’d get just close enough to hear the other person breathing. Every so often she’d get bold enough to tease him.

“Tsk tsk tsk, you really thought I’d fall for that?” she asked when he tried to fake her out and his ears would get red and he’d come back at her with more determination. She had nearly forgotten she was trying to get close to him to retrieve her glasses, she was more focused on getting close to him so she could see his reaction. She reached for them once and he grabbed her wrist to stop her, but he quickly retracted it. Willow wanted to point out that he should;ve sed that opportunity to disarm her but she decided against and tried to think of something cheeky to say the next time it happened.

She was excited to be able to have someone who took this as seriously as she did but still managed to have fun. Amity was serious but was still so worried about hurting her and Luz and Gus were fun to train with but sometimes were too silly and couldn’t keep up with her when she got in the zone. Hunter was the perfect opponent.

Hunter observed the way Willow moved and while he found her to be a remarkable force, he felt he had discovered his way to victory. As agile as she was, she favored her right side. If he wanted to catch her off guard, he would need to approach her from the left and grab the staff while she turned to her less dominant side. He sprang into action but Willow anticipated this and as he went to turn, she stuck out her foot accidentally causing Hunter to lose his balance. He managed to grab his staff but Wilow did not let go and so they both ended up hurtling to the ground. Willow had shifted the staff behind her head and landed atop it with it resting behind her neck. Hunter in turn landed atop Willow, his hands catching him, placed on either side of her head as his nose was mere inches from hers.

Their breathing lined up as she stared up at him, close enough where he was in focus. His face red and his eyes wide as he waited for her to say something. She knew his mind was shouting a thousand apologies, that he was deciding what to be embarrassed about first, but he didn't need to be. She carefully removed her hands from the staff and reached up to grab her glasses as they dangled above her.

“Not bad,” she said smugly. “For a first session, that is.”

“Ha, uh thanks,” he said, praying that the sweat he knew was collecting on his brow wouldn't fall onto her. But he was paralyzed. He was hypnotized. He was utterly captivated by how picturesque she looked, her frizzy braids sprawled out on the ground like a halo. She made no attempt to move either, likewise captivated by the way the sunlight above him outlined his frame. He truly was golden and she thought about telling him so but she was hoping he would have something more to say first.

He wanted to but just as he went to open his mouth, his attention was diverted by a new voice.

“Yeah, Golden Guard!”

“Smooth move pipsqueak!”

“Looks like the private lessons are going well!”

Hunter’s eyes shot up in horror as he saw a collection of scouts had gathered on the balcony above and had been watching him and Willow spar. It was then that he realized how… compromising their current position looked.

“Uhhhh let me get you a water,” Hunter offered as he leapt away from her like she was on fire.

“Okay, thanks,” said Willow with a smile as she sat up. “But hurry back! We’ve got a lot to get through.”

“Haha, totally,’ he said, giving her finger guns in a panic response as he speed walked up to the balcony.

“Having fun, little prince?” asked Darius, sipping a cup of tea as the scouts offered a series of whistles and comments as he walked past them, his face hopelessly flushed.

“What are they doing?” Hunter whispered in a panic. “I thought this was supposed to be a private instruction.”

“Oh, is that so?” Darius said with a smirk.

“You were the one who arranged this,” Hunter hissed, his eyes darting down to Willow who thankfully seemed unaware of their audience.

“Fine, fine, “ he said. “Come now scouts, let’s give the Golden Guard some privacy.”

“Ohhh, you wanna be alone with your plant girlfriend?” teased a scout as the scouts tried to suppress their giggles.

“Yes, thank you,” said Hunter, not missing a beat.

“Okay, okay, just to be clear, you and your plant girlfriend want to be alone,” asked another.

“Yes, that’s an order!” said Hunter, feeling his authority was being honored. But just as he went to leave, the scouts burst into laughter. This was nothing terribly new, they often found ways to undermine him. But he failed to see what was so funny about-

Then he saw Darius was also suppressing his laughter and suddenly the words caught up to him. Hunter’s face turned a deep shade of crimson and he felt like steam was coming out of his ears. “Oh… shut up!” he demanded as the room erupted into another round of prepared remarks.

From the ground, Willow could just barely make out the faint sounds of laughter. As she strained to hear any specifics, Clover flew down to meet her buzzing with news from Flapjack having not gotten to see her best friend in awhile. She nuzzled her owner who was eager to hear about her day. Willow quickly looked for something to do, trying to look busy like she wasn’t overthinking what was taking him so long. Not because she was nervous, but because she didn’t get to spend much time with him as it was. She wanted to try and squeeze in some time to talk to him in person instead of texting.

As Hunter marched back with water for Willow, he could feel the scouts still watching him. He didn’t call up to them because knew making a scene would only embarrass him in front of Willow, or worse make her feel uneasy. He just hoped they’d keep quiet.

When he came back to Willow, she was balancing a free weight on the tip of her finger. “Hey Hunter,” she beamed, her eyes darting between him and the weight. “Check it out!” she carefully lifted her hand and threw the weight into the air, it flipped and then she caught once more with apparent ease.

“Impressive,” he said as he handed her the water bottle and offered her a smile, which quickly dissolved when he heard the collective sounds of over dramatic kissy noises coming at them from the balcony. He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, there was no way Willow didn’t hear them this time.

“Ugh, I’m sorry, please ignore them,” Hunter pleaded. Willow couldn’t care less about what the scouts thought, she only cared about what Hunter felt. The notion that they were bullying him sent a sharp chill up her chest, and she had to take a deep breath to steady herself before responding.

“Okay,” she said, her eyes momentarily darting to them anyway trying to get a quick read on their intentions. “But is everything alright? Did they say something to you?”

“No,no… well yes,” he admitted, unable to convincingly lie when her eyes caught his. “But it’s nothing bad, just teasing.”

“Hunter, it’s not nothing if it’s bothering you,” she assured him. “I can say something if-.”

“No, no it’s stupid,” he cut her off, starting to feel nervous and twisted. “I mean, it’s not stupid it’s about you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “But it’s nothing bad about you, because you’re amazing. It’s just… I’ve never had a friend over to the castle before.”

“Oh,” she said, hoping he’d elaborate.

“Yeah and so I guess they thought… and it’s my fault because I didn’t even think about it, that you were my… more than a friend.”

“Oooh,” Willow fully understood now. “I see.”

“And it’s totally my fault because of how I described you so I-.”

“How did you describe me?” she asked almost breathlessly.

“I uh, well after the whole… kidnapping thing, they would talk about you sometimes,” he began. “And they asked if you were my plant girlfriend and I said yes.”

“Okay,”

“And I know there’s so much more to you than just plants,” Hunter went on. “But you are on the plant track and so it seemed like a suitable identifier at the time but it wasn’t until just now that I realized that the words ‘girl’ and ‘friend’ were not separate so they weren’t saying that you were a plant girl who was my friend but rather you liked plants and you were my… uh…”

“Don’t even worry about it,” said Willow sweetly. “I get it; my dads like to tease me too.”

“They do?”

“Yeah,” she chuckled. “Whenever I bring someone cute over to the house they can’t help themselves. But it doesn’t last very long.”

Someone cute, someone cute, his mind rang out. His mind quickly bounced back when he realized she was the someone cute in this situation. Because she was very cute. Had he always thought that? Pssh, everyone thought that. Willow was objectively cute, it was a fact. It made sense the guards found the notion silly that someone so cute would associate with him.

“I mean, if you ever came to my house it’d be the same thing,” she continued and before Hunter could offer a response, his heart stopped. The way it did when she had pinned him down. Her fathers would consider him cute enough to tease? More importantly, she considered him cute at all? Even hypothetically?

“Yeah, Darius keeps telling them it’s not like that,” said Hunter. “He said I wouldn’t even know what to do with a girl like you and the scouts said I have no game anyway, but I didn’t bother debating with them since training is serious and not about games.”

“Oooh,” said Willow once more, as the narrative shifted again. They weren’t teasing him like assuming parents, they were teasing him like obnoxious siblings. Her mind pulled up all the times Ed and Em had evoked the same response in Amity. She knew the best way to combat this was confidence, and to make them eat their words. She was positive they couldn’t hear them, as they seemed to not be whispering and Willow could not hear them from where they stood, so she made sure to have her actions speak for her. She reached out and touched Hunter’s arm.

“I bet they tease you all the time, huh?” She smiled. “I mean, you’re the Golden Guard. I'm sure plenty of teenagers have crushes on you.”

“Uh, not really?” Said Hunter, unable to focus for a moment when he registered her touch. He was grateful to have learned the definition of a crush so he didn’t embarrass himself in front of Willow the way he had when he misunderstood the word when Darius used it. “I mean, I wear my mask most of the time. I don’t know how you can have a crush on someone you can’t see.”

“Hmm, yeah I guess seeing does help with that,” she said softly and Hunter knew he’d be thinking about the way she said that sentence all week. It was like she knew something and she let a clue dwell just under the surface of the words. He had never heard the assumption that his position would make him attractive to his peers (respected and feared, yes but not admired). He wondered why Willow would assume it. He dared to hope she’d relate.

“C’mere,” she said, moving closer to him.

“W-what are you doing?” He nervously chuckled as she pretended to dust something off his shoulder.

“Let’s give them something to talk about,” she said with an innocent shrug. “Something I’ve learned is that when you’re in on the joke, it’s not as funny anymore.”

“O-okay?”

“Trust me,” Willow said with a wink. “This is the kind of teasing I know how to stop. Now, I’m gonna laugh really loud like you just said something funny and then I’m gonna lightly shove your shoulder and when I do I want you to take my hand, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah I can do that,” he said, thankful his back was to the scouts and they couldn’t see him sweat. Even worse though, Willow could see. But she somehow didn’t seem to mind, keeping her cool as she kept smiling at him like it came naturally to her.

She threw her head back and let out a light, airy laugh. Hunter knew it wasn’t genuine, but it would fool most anyone else. She flipped her braid before shoving his shoulder as she said she would, lingering there a moment to remind him to take her hand. He somehow knew what to do with it, bringing it down to their sides as he had seen teen couples do when he went into town.

“Okay good,” she whispered. “Now lean against the wall and I’ll pretend you said something cool.”

“Like what?”

“I dunno, just say anything and I’ll pretend you told me something cool.”

“What about how the venomous fly trap can live in below freezing temperatures if it’s watered with as little as two ounces of boiling rain once a year?”

“Oh yeah, that is pretty cool,” she said. Hunter could tell she genuinely meant it and he smiled, having memorized that fact solely because he thought it would interest her. His smile inspired hers to linger and they stood in comfortable, smiling silence for a few moments.

Out of the corner of her eye, Willow saw one scout nudge another, as though impressed and Willow knew her plan was working. She was doing this to help improve Hunter’s cred and for no other reason, right?

Okay, maybe it was a little fun.

Maybe it was a little easy.

Too easy.

She rose onto her tiptoes, placing her hand delicately on Hunter’s chest to steady herself as she went to whisper in his ear.

“Okay, now walk me to the gate and when I leave don’t look up at them,” she instructed. “Take out your scroll or something, act totally casual.”

“Okay,” he said, a chill running down his spine as her breath hit the side of his face. “But why?”

“We want the scouts to think it’s no big deal,” she explained, as they began to walk hand in hand. “Because you totally have game.”

“I’m sorry, I still don’t understand,” he said as she lead him to the gate. “What kind of game is it exactly?”

Willow chuckled and tucked her hair behind her ear, having reached the exit. She didn’t have to try hard to make it look like she was dreading having to leave. “Hmmm I think we’ll make it part of next week’s lesson,” she said, biting her lip as he continued to offer her a look of confusion.

“Well, alright then,” said Hunter. “Looking forward to it, Captain.”

He waved to her until she was completely out of sight, watching as she soon flew away on Clover.

“Sir! Here’s that water you asked for!” came a voice from behind Hunter. He turned and saw Steve running out with a large, overflowing jug.

“Oh, uh thanks Steve but we’re okay,” said Hunter, feeling like he was leaving a fence taking his eyes off where Willow had last stood. “But I gave her one of Darius’ fancy waters.”

“Oh, okay,” said Steve, dropping the jug without a second thought. “Did you two have fun?”

“Yeah,” said Hunter, smiling in spite of himself. “I did. I hope she did too.”

“Oh totally sir, I watched the whole thing,” assured Steve with a thumbs up. “She was definitely feeling the vibe, she was seriously flirting with you.”

“Huh? Oh, that,” Hunter sighed. “No, between you and me she was just pretending so they’d stop teasing me up there.”

“Really? It was pretty convincing,” marveled Steve.

“Really?” Said Hunter, trying to hide his excitement. “You uh, really think she’d laugh like that at something I said for real?”

He had never dreamed he’d be considered amusing but he had to admit her adored the sound of Willow’s laughter.

“Uh, well I don’t remember her laughing at anything,” said Steve, thinking. “But I left to go get water when you said you needed a water. I was mostly talking about how she smiled when she saw you walk in, I didn’t know you guys planned all that in advance.”

“We, uh w-we didn’t,” said Hunter, clearing his throat.

“Oh,” said Steve, not totally understanding. “Well then, you guys are pretty in sync with your improv.”

#huntlow #huntlow fanfiction #toh #toh fanfic #the owl house #Willow park #Hunter toh #winter toh

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julieloves074 · 2 years

Text

Crumbling (Conrad Fisher x Y/n)

Summary: Everything falls apart in the first two days of summer, Y/n doesn’t know how to handle it, she’s glad Conrad is there to save her.

Warnings: Swearing, divorce, cheating, cancer, drinking, kissing

Words: 6.3K

(Not my GIF :) )

Having a beach house next door to the Fisher’s was never boring, Susannah was really close with my parents and so when I was one they decided to cut out an opening between our two gardens… still not entirely sure if that’s legal or not but it never hurt anyone. I was sure this year was going to be no different from the rest, the boys and their mom would arrive first, on the same day as us, then a couple of days later the Conklins would join the party and we would have a huge garden gathering with a barbeque.

Expect that wasn’t exactly what happened, the day the boys and Susannah arrived there was a puzzle piece out of place. My mother and I had gone over to their home that afternoon when they settled in, my dad said he needed to go run some errands, not that there was anything wrong with that.

The second my mother opened their back door, yes we had gone in through the garden secret entrance- we always did, Jeremiah had rushed in as if called on command. A smile spread over my face and I opened my arms, but it wasn’t me who he ran to, he embraced my mother first, she burst into laughter and so did Susannah I stood in fake offence.

“Come on y/n/n you can’t be offended it’s m/n” he said letting her go smiling at me with his goofy grin.

“Yeah whatever, just come here!” I said in excitement, his head turned slightly to the side and his smirk grew as he took all of me in, his eyes wandered down my body and back to my eyes, he was centimetres away when Susannah brushed passed him and pulled me into her arms, this time the curly blonde looked offended.

“Come on Jeremiah, it’s Susannah” I said with a laughter, “Don’t like the tables turning huh?” I teased.

“Wow mom, wow,” he said in a fake sarcastic tone.

“What? I had to hug my adoptive daughter!” That made my heart skipped beat, I knew Susannah always wanted a daughter, even though she loved her boys which mother didn’t want a daughter. I remember her telling me how she was so happy that Jeremiah and I had only been born a few months apart, that she felt complete having her two boys, Steven and I, then Belly was born too and what’s then she said everything was truly complete.

Susannah was a caring woman and I’m pretty sure she would love to have a whole nursey of children under her care at all times, but I’m glad it’s the five of us, just the way it had been since I could remember.

“Uh, sorry Susannah could I talk to you? About that thing…” my mother’s sombre tone did not go missed neither by me or Jeremiah who looked at me with a questioning look, I could only shrug my shoulders.

Susannah let go of me “You guys decide what we’re having for food tonight, you’re staying over right y/n/n?”

“As always, how could I say no to you Susannah?”

“You couldn’t” she shone her pearly white teeth in accomplishment, my mother gave her a thankful look before they left the room. Finally, only then did Jeremiah run over to me and pick me up into an embrace, spinning me around and around the kitchen. It was nice being the same age as Jeremiah, made us closer in a way.

“Where’s Connie?” I finally got the courage to ask after he put me back down on the floor, I couldn’t believe that he didn’t come to say hello, I thought the last day of last summer had meant something to him… Yes I know he didn’t call or text once but I still kept my hopes up, all in vain seemingly.

“He’s upstairs moping around his room,” he said trying to brush off the subject, “So the bonfire on Saturday you are going right? I know it’s usually our barbeque night but I’m sure the mothers won’t mind us slipping away after the food,” he explained and started putting a few more groceries in the cupboards.

“What’s so wrong with Conard that he’s moping around?” I asked, my heart took and extra beat when I said the boy’s name, my heart always did do that for as long as I can remember, even more now after last summer…

Jeremiah sighed before answering, “I have no idea, he’s been really off with everyone for a while now, mom thinks it’s because of Aubrey, but I’m not sure,”

“Aubrey?” I kept my voice on a still level, Jeremiah turned around to face me with one eyebrow lifted.

“Yeah, his girlfriend… Well ex, uh hey could you pass me those?” he asked pointing to the six boxes of cereal on the dining room table, those would be gone in four days’ time, Susannah swears that cereal is our lot’s drug.

A thought of Conrad kissing and holding some girl rushed through the forefront of my mind, “I didn’t realise Conrad had a girlfriend” I said passing him one box at a time.

“Yeah, they got pretty serious pretty quickly, spending weekends at each other’s houses, he took her here once too, a few weeks ago right before they broke up,” he said. I was trying to remain calm but it felt like someone had grabbed my heart, crushed in with their bare hands and threw it out on an empty road at midnight.

I wondered whether he took her to that spot he took me when we… “Y/n! Snap out of it and pass me that last box!” he pushed my shoulder gently and but his attempt at playfulness didn’t lift my spirit very much. Still, I took a deep breath and pushed the thoughts away, even though it wasn’t what I wanted this laid out the start of the summer, I had hopes that maybe Conrad and I would work something out but now that was out the window I could start afresh this summer.

“You know, about that bonfire-“

“Yeah?” he turned to face me again with a hopeful smile and excited sparkling eyes.

“Fuck it, lets do it! We’re 17 the mothers won’t mind if it’s after dinner,” I shrugged my shoulders and Jeremiah took my hands and began dancing around the kitchen and into the hallway.

“I knew I could count on you!” he exclaimed, I was so dizzy and laughing so loud that my ears were pulsing, we came to a quick stop when we saw the front door was open. There on the porch stood my mother, eyes with tears glossing over her eyes, Susannah held her in a tight embrace.

“You know you can always count on me,” Susannah told her, my mother let out another sob before opening her eyes and quickly rushing out of Su’s hold when she saw us.

“Mom what’s going on?” I asked her rushing over.

“It’s nothing honey don’t worry about it, you’ll be staying at Susannah’s like you always do. I will bring you your things okay?” she said in a pleading matter. I always stayed at the Fisher house on the first night at Cousins, but now that I had seen my mother cry I didn’t want to stay the night, I wanted to be with her.

I wanted to ask more but Susannah’s knowing gaze told me that my mother needed time, so I nodded and attempted my best smile, my mother put her hand on my cheek and brushed her thumb over my cheekbone, then she rushed away back to our summer house.

“If you need me call me,” Susannah called out before my mother walked out of the fence.

The second she was out of view Jeremiah turned to Susannah expectantly, she huffed and rushed us back inside telling us that there was still much to do, she tried to change the subject asking whether we decided on dinner, when we said we hadn’t she called Conrad down.

We were in the kitchen when he had come down. Jere and I were sat on the stools and Susannah was stook on the opposite side of the counter just listing ideas for food, she looked beautiful with the reflection of the early sunset, almost goddess like, Belly would have loved to see her like this.

The second I heard his footsteps it was as if time had slowed, I was painfully aware of all of his features the second he had come out of the corner. His eyes met mine and for a split second no time had past, it was just him and I together, hidden from everyone’s eyes. Quickly, harshly he looked to his mom.

“I didn’t realise the y/l/n were here yet,” he said speaking as if I weren’t there, another arrow to the heart.

“Yeah Connie they arrived this morning too, and where are you manners say hello to Y/n” she hit him playfully with a hand drying towel. His frown turned to a smile and his eyes softened as he looked at me.

“Hey y/n how are you?” he asked, he didn’t move towards me, no hug, no smile for me either.

“Yeah I’ve been good, happy to finally be in paradise, away from school and city life,” I laughed but he didn’t seem to relate to my comment.

“Y/n’s staying tonight as always, have you got any ideas for dinner Con?” Susannah asked, he shook his head, joined his lips together and looked around the kitchen before settling his gaze on the floor shrugging.

“I was actually going to grab some food with some of the boys, Nicole and her friends are going too,” he said. I liked Nicole but I knew she’s had her eyes on Con for a while, I tried to not think about the two of them together.

“Connie we always have dinner as a three on the first night, I love you and I appreciate that you’re growing up but you’re still my son and Y/n’s here so you’re staying tonight please, and you three need to pick what you want to eat or I will,” she said meeting all our eyes one after the other. Conrad looked between Jeremiah and I and then back, before nodding to his mom.

We had decided on pizza, my mother brought my clothes by while Jere and I were running a game of Mario kart, I had paused the game but Susannah said she needed space and took my bag. Conrad didn’t come back downstairs until the food arrived, everything seemed normal at dinner, Con spoke some more, it may have been because Susannah was asking him lots of questions to get him involved but he still didn’t make any eye contact with me. What more could I do then focus my energy on the other two Fisher family members?

>---~<☀️>~---<

I was thankful my mom had packed my swimming costume into my bag, after twisting and turning in my bed for what seemed liked hours I looked at the clock, it was two in the morning. Susannah decided to turn in early today, tired from all the travel and settling in but Jere and I stayed up hanging out until half past one. Still laying and tossing in bed for half an hour unable to sleep was bad enough.

I rolled out of bed as quietly as possible, getting into the bikini my mom had packed, and walked out of the room on my tip toes even though I knew that none of the wooden tiles would creak for one, and secondly everyone knew night swims were my thing, and then Belly’s too since I took her. When her parents were going through the divorce she had a lot on her mind so I thought a night swim would help he handle all the emotions, and now she loved her night swims too.

When I arrived outside I threw my towel onto one of the lounge chairs and looked towards my house, all the light but one were off. Taking a deep breath I shook my head and dived straight in the pool without much thought or looking around. I let all the water soak up into my skin, the feeling so fresh, it felt like I was finally breathing.

As I broke for the surface I gasped onto the actual air and brushed my hair backwards out of my face, letting my whole head lower backwards at the weight, soaking up the moon.

“I see some things never change Y/n” a voice said, at first I was startled but when I turned around I saw him there, his face even more beautiful in the light of the moon. I didn’t realise how long he’d been there.

He must have been reading my mind because he said “You didn’t even notice me when you came out,”.

“Yeah some things never change,” I repeated but added, “But apparently a lot of things do,” I hadn’t meant for it to come out like an insult, the sour taste of the sentence felt wrong. He didn’t say anything, he lifted his cigarette to his mouth and looked back out at the sea.

“You’re smoking again,” I commented, he tired it once last summer that I couldn’t stand when people smoked, just like he had said a few years ago, and so he told me he wouldn’t do it again but I guess that went out the window too.

“You promised me you wouldn’t smoke again, that if it made me happy-“

“That wasn’t enough,” he said coldly, not looking at me when he said it.

“What happened with Aubrey?” The words had slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them, the curiosity got the best of me. I wanted to ask more ‘did she like it when you smoked?’ ‘was she prettier than me?’ ‘Is that why you never called, never messaged?’ but I didn’t, I knew I probably wouldn’t like any of the answers.

This time he did look at me but I couldn’t read the look on his face, I rarely ever could, “Who told you about Aubrey? I swear my mother is such a-“ he started and something in me felt the need to defend the poor woman.

“Jere, he mentioned it earlier,”

“What a dick, couldn’t keep one thing to himself,”

“Did you not want me to know?” I asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I didn’t want anyone to know,” he spat, turning back towards the sea and brushing a hand through his hair.

“We used to tell each other pretty much everything,” I said, but I didn’t have the guts to finish the sentence ‘what happened Connie?’.

“Grow up Y/n we’re getting older, our lives aren’t based around everyone’s little secrets or silly things that we’d whisper about as kids,” I was expecting more anger in his tone but this time his words came out emotionless, as if he was feelings nothing, completely shut down.

I wanted to say something so bad, to say that wasn’t what I meant, to perhaps say that he’s the one who’s changed, but I didn’t have the words in me to argue with him, he’d just come back with some more painfully targeted comeback. I swam to the edge of the pool, wishing for nothing more than slipping into our garden and going for a swim there but I didn’t want to upset Susannah. Instead, I wrapped myself up in my towel and made my way towards the door.

My hand rested on the handle of the sliding door when I swear I heard Conrad say “Goodnight Y/n” under his breath but that could have been the gentle night breeze that made the trees dance. I didn’t turn around and I didn’t say another word, instead I grabbed a shot of vodka making sure to put everything in its place before going to bed. I was so desperate as to not rerun our whole conversation in my head that I forced myself to fall asleep by some miracle.

>---~<☀️>~---<

In the morning atmosphere was not much improved, I was expecting to see my mother at the table outside drinking a coffee with Susannah but she wasn’t there, it was just Su with her large sun hat and white mug.

The whole house was so peaceful and quiet I noticed. It was nice, the morning sun prickling at my bare skin, outside my bikini that I put back on when I woke up, and the sound of the water lapping on the beach where I could see two blurry figures. The boys went early to surf, hence the silence.

When Susannah noticed me she said she started preparing a cup of tea for me, all I had to do was pour in some water, I smiled at her. After finishing making my tea I grabbed a pair of sunglasses.

“I went to see you mother this morning, and I grabbed you some clothes for the day, she asked me to pass on that she’d like you to stay here until the barbeque tonight,” Susannah tried to keep that even, joyful tone of hers but I could sense something was wrong.

“Susannah, what’s going on?” I asked her, my voice laced with worry, she held onto my hand and looked me up and down.

“I don’t know how you do it Y/n/n but you get more and more beautiful every year, I can’t wait to call you my daughter in law one day,” she said winking, I pulled away and blushed. Susannah and I had never spoken about her boys in that way, I have heard her say to my mother she couldn’t imagine losing one of her boys to anyone else, I rolled my eyes about it at the time. But now I wondered how much she knew, her mother senses were freaky, had she sensed the tension last year or the lack of it this year? I did always wonder which son she thought I would marry, if either.

“What time are the Conklin’s arriving?” I asked changing the subject and it seemed that was exactly what Susannah had wanted.

“They should be getting here around three or four so we can start setting up everything for the barbeque before then, Jere mentioned you lot were going out tonight. So, I’m assuming you guys will want to eat sooner rather than later,” her smile was always so light, Susannah seemed so happy and effortless all the time as if she had absolutely no worries in the world.

“Yeah that sounds great,” I said and looked back towards the beach, worried about my mother, what was happening? Everything was fine yesterday. The little figures from the distance were gone. The quiet was quickly destroyed when I heard the two Fisher boys come up from the beach, they looked exactly in their element then and there. Their boards in their hands, skin already sun kissed, hair dripping wet. Conrad rushed his hand through his hair and droplets of water travelled down his body I had to shake out of it to stop myself watching one droplet travel down low.

“Y/n/n you’re up, fancy a muffin run?” Jere asked walking towards us in a fast pace shaking the water off his body and hair, splashing us.

“Yeah, sure,” I sighed I needed to get away from the looming house next door, my house, the house my mother quite literally shut me out off.

“Actually, Connie was going to go into town and grab me a few things right Con? Take Y/n won’t you and Jere you could help me extend the table and get the grill out honey?” it wasn’t a command, more of a friendly request, but she knew neither of her boys could say no to her. At this point I was sure no one could.

“Yeah course mom,” Jere said and smiled at me though there was a hint of sadness or perhaps disappointment in his look.

“I’ll run and get changed then we can go,” Conrad directed at me, but rushed into the house. I followed shortly behind him to get changed into something more appropriate for town as well. The whole trip we didn’t talk apart from some small talk, for a moment I wondered whether Susannah orchestrated this on purpose. Whether she knew, or maybe Jere told her that Con and I weren’t taking. Either way whether it was her plan or not it didn’t work. By the time we got back, he was still as distant as he had been since last night.

The day the Conklins’ arrive always rushed by, I was setting up the bedding in their rooms, Jere was helping out his mom and so was Conrad, he was preparing all the food and storing it in the fridge while Jere was moving some furniture around outside, Susannah hated when the furniture looked the same outside for too long. She always said change, no matter how small (like moving one chair) was a good and needed change. Quickly the time had come Laurel, Belly and Steven had arrived.

Con and Jere were already putting laying out food on the grill, I wore one of my colourful summer dresses, Belly stuck with her bikini top and shorts, my parents were still yet to be seen.

“Hey y/n where’s m/n?” Belly asked shoving some cold popcorn in her mouth.

“Uh I think she still in the house, she’s probably on her way now,” I said nervously looking towards the boys, Con gave me a sad smile while Jere looked towards his mom, what was going on? Why did Con seem to more than me?

I took the opportunity to sneak away into my house when Susannah excused herself to go to the bathroom.

I quickly came to regret that decision, when I slid open our back door I saw her there, just past the kitchen, laying on the couch covered in blankets. The curtains were closed she was sat in pitch darkness with dirty tissues everywhere around her. There was smashed plates and glasses all over the floor.

“Mom?” I asked in panic, “Mom what the hell has happened here?” my voice was shaking.

Before she could answer Laurel was running in behind me, she must have followed me, she grabbed me from behind and held me close to her. I could feel the tears start prickling, my breathing was becoming rash.

Finally, my mother sat up when Belly, Steven and Conrad got into the house.

“What did I tell you guys, I said stay at the table!” Laur sighed in a defeated manner.

“I’m so so sorry baby,” My mom said coming towards me, pulling me out of Laur’s hand gently, she ran her fingers down my hair, “It’s over, it’ll never be the same,” she began to cry, violent tears travelled down her cheeks.

Susannah had now also joined the crowd, “Y/n” she murmured looking concerned.

“Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on?” my voice was raised.

“Your father and I argued,” so that’s the reason for all the broken glass. Still whenever they argued it never came to anything physical. I think she could sense what I was questioning, “He cheated on me Y/n/n”.

In that moment my throat felt as dry as sandpaper, but my eyes were like faucets that were about let a whole waterfall.

“Where is he?” I asked quietly, still my voice sounded like it was booming in the dead silence of the room.

“He’s gone Y/n, I don’t know where, or for how long but he’s gone” she said tears building up in her eyes again. I took a deep breath, then another, shaking my head in an accidental rhythm. He wouldn��t, he couldn’t have.

Everyone’s eyes were on me, I could feel them waiting for a reaction and I simply couldn’t give it to them. I didn’t know myself then. I turned around, gripped my phone harder and headed towards the beach, ignoring Jeremiah as he shouted my name. I kept walking and walking and soon enough I saw the bonfire party ahead of me.

>---~<☀️>~---<

Before I knew it I had 3 shots of vodka and drank two beers, the mix was unpleasant in my mouth but so was the thought of my ruined family life, I had so many questions but a big part of me didn’t want the answers to them. The boys and Belly arrived a bit after me, none of them said a word to me, they kept their distance, but I knew they were watching me.

After another drink or two I could feel myself starting to get dizzy, I was sick of sitting alone staring at the water when I was surrounded by so many other people. I couldn’t walk straight but I headed directly towards the group of people dancing.

I accidently spilt some of my drink onto a girl’s shoe, she was about to throw a temper tantrum- classic for one of those country club girls who I never fit in with. Jeremiah came to my rescue, flirting with her expertly, after the brunette calmed down he turned back to me.

He tried to take the red cup out of my hand but I pulled it further away from him.

“Y/n you’ve had enough, come on its two in the morning lets go home,” he had a pleading tone.

“Never have I ever thought Jere would be the one wanting to leave a party,” My tone was mocking, I didn’t mean it, but he was the one trying to bring me back to the reality I was avoiding.

“I know this is hard Y/n/n but please, we’ve all had enough,”

“You guys go, I’m staying, I still haven’t had my fun, ooo look at that guy- he’s so good looking,“ I pointed to him “maybe he’ll dance with me,” I giggled.

“Y/n/n please, I’m begging you,”

“Fuck off Jere, stop trying to ruin my fun for once,” the look on his face was horrified and hurt, but that didn’t matter in the moment, he finally left me alone.

Another hour must have passed, I was right he would dance with me, with each song his hands were getting more comfortable with the shape of my body, his lips were edging closer to my lips and neck too, I encouraged him further. Maybe this summer wouldn’t be so bad, all this fun I had been missing out on.

Finally, he laid his lips on mine, his fingers traced the bottom hem of my dress, slowly inching it higher, his sloppy lips moved onto my neck and I let out a moan. My eyes closed.

“Get the fuck off her!” A voice yelled, immediately I took my hands from around the guy’s neck and put them up to cover my ears.

“You got a problem Fisher?” The guy asked, I rolled my eyes, it was Conrad.

“Why are the fucking pair of you Fisher brothers trying to ruin my night!” I exclaimed, I wanted it to sound like a threat but I couldn’t raise my voice, not at him, not at my Connie.

“Exactly don’t ruin the night dude, listen to the babe,” I didn’t like the endearment but if I said anything Con would think I’m agreeing with him and that was simply unacceptable.

“We’re going Y/n, lets go,” he said firmly. I rolled my eyes and turned away from him, “I said we’re going,” he repeated this time there was an edge of something in his voice, I couldn’t quite pinpoint it.

“Whatever- are there any drinks left?” I shouted, a few people near us turned to look at me weird. I ignored the stares and grabbed the guy’s face, forcefully laying my lips on his, hoping Con would just feel uncomfortable and leave.

“I get that you’ve had a hard night but you’re scaring Belly,” as soon as he said those words something in me switched, “Jere drove everyone else home about an hour ago, they were worried tired,” he said, and I let him pull me towards the car. We heard the guy behind us shout but I could only focus on the consequences of my actions.

When we got to the car I was feeling hyperaware of all my surroundings, he helped me get into the passenger seat then rushed to his side. The digital clock said it was twenty past three in the morning. He didn’t put any music on, he didn’t speak, the quiet was deafening but it made my headache a bit better.

Conrad parked outside of our driveways. He sighed and leaned his head back for a minute before finally turning to me. My eyes met his, I could tell he was unsure of what to do now. All the lights in both the houses were off.

“Taylor’s staying in your room for the next few days, Susannah invited her for an early surprise visit so-“ he stated and swallowed.

I felt a little but frantic, “No- No Connie don’t make me go into that house where my mother is,” I pleaded, he run his hand through his hair and exhaled heavily again, “Please, I’m sorry, I won’t let this happen again, I’ll take the couch just don’t make me go back there,”.

His lips tightened, “My mom will kill me if you sleep on the couch, but fine you take my room I’ll sleep in the living room,” he said, before I could argue he got out and shut the door. Coming around the other side of the car he helped me out, balancing us with an around me.

“I’m sorry Connie, I’m sorry,” I kept repeating, he practically pulled me towards the front door.

“Ok, come on Y/n nearly there,” I watched him put the key in and unlock the door, then he was at my side again, helping me take my shoes off and then get up the stairs.

“I didn’t mean to scare Belly, I don’t know what I was doing,” I tried to make eye contact with him again but he was focused on getting me to bed.

“I know.” Was all I got.

Finally, we reached the bed, the journey from the car here felt like it had been hours, in reality it was probably 15 minutes with my constant pauses.

“Come on lie down,” he moved the comforter up to let me get under it, I didn’t lie down though.

“Con can you sit down for a minute?” I whispered.

He ran his hand over his eyes, the bags underneath them made me sad, I forced those to make an appearance tonight and I hated myself for it, “You need to sleep,”

“Please, I won’t be able to sleep if you don’t,” that was a lie and he knew it too but sat down anyway, “I need you,” I said, my voice so weak he could have missed it.

He looked at my confused, I inched closer to him, gaze switching between his eyes and lips, he didn’t move, maybe he didn’t want this, maybe he was just playing along so I would finally go to sleep, either way.

His eyes shut when my lips were millimetres away from his, still he didn’t move. Not a muscle. So I did it, our lips met, at first it was just me kissing him, his lips cold against me but then he was kissing me back, I moved closer to him, another bit and I would be on his lap. He didn’t touch me, I took both his hands and laid them directly on my chest.

That’s when he pulled away and stood up, hand on his forehead, “I can’t do this Y/n. Not like this” his eyes were tired and so was his voice. And again I was ashamed, what was wrong with me, five seconds ago I was apologising for scaring Belly and then next minute I was ready to go all the way with Con.

“I’m sorry,” I said again.

“Lie down Y/n,” his hand on the door handle.

“Stay with me please? I won’t do anything I promise,” a sad smile played over his lips, “I can’t be alone right now,” I added, that’s why I went to the party in the first place, to be surrounded by people. To make myself and my problems feel small.

He was hesitant but gave in, I assume he would have rather have his bed than the couch. He took his shirt off and changed his shorts before getting into bed. He fiddled on his phone for a few minutes and then turned away from me. I faced his back, watching him breathing in and out as I dazed off.

>---~<☀️>~---<

The sun peered out of the half closed curtain right into my eyes, my head banging, I squeezed my eyes together and looked towards the clock on the wall, it was only half 7. The feeling of embarrassment swayed over me again. I needed to get out of here, I couldn’t face Belly, Jere and Susannah, or anyone in this half hungover state.

As I went to lift my body I finally noticed the weight on my stomach, I looked towards the boy next to me, his hand laid across my belly, head nuzzled between my shoulder and head, my heart skipped a beat. He looked rough. He looked worried and tired even in his sleep. I wanted to close my eyes again, pretend I hadn’t woken up first. To be in this fake bubble for a little while longer before everything kicked off again. Before I had to face reality.

After a minute of deliberation, I decided let myself have this moment. I felt my body relax under his touch and fall back asleep.

When I woke up again the blind was completely shut, there was no light coming into the room, I looked at the clock it was 1, Conrad was no longer next to me and I felt the absence of his warmth.

I stretched out on the bed, my head was hurting less, I wanted to memorise as much of laying in his bed as I could because it probably wouldn’t happen again. I didn’t get very long before Con came into the room with what was Laurel’s famous hungover ‘soup in a cup’.

“You’re awake,” he said. I just looked at him, I knew he remembered everything from last night, he didn’t drink, and I always remembered everything from when I drank, hence why I rarely ever did.

“I’m sorry,” I said, his face melted and he came to sit next to me.

“What are you sorry for?” he asked passing me the glass, I took it and drank half in one go attempting to avoid the smell, the remedy smelled sickly and foul.

“For running away, for being reckless, for… for scaring Belly,” then I sighed, “For kissing you,” I looked at my hands. There was silence between us again, I remember a few summers ago when no one could get us to stop talking, funny how now it was the opposite.

“Did Aubrey like Cousins?” I asked not looking up. I had to know.

Con sighed, “No,”

I let out a little unbelievable gasp, “How can anyone not like Cousins,” the thought simply ridiculous to me.

“Why didn’t you tell me about her Con?” I asked.

“I needed to get away from you, after that kiss last year summer, and what it almost became I got so scared that I’d fuck something up that I couldn’t even text you, we’re family if something happened between us and then didn’t end well, that would impact everyone around us. Then I met her,” he said simply.

“Did you love her?”

“I thought I could have, she was nice, her smile wasn’t like yours though and her lips didn’t feel the same. If I let myself, I think I could have really like her- love, I don’t think I could have ever loved her but I could have liked her enough to have a future together,” he explained, and I just nodded, he was right, one wrong move on our behalf and we could ruin everything our families spent years building.

“Then I brought her here, to your favourite place, and it felt wrong even on the drive down. We were meant to stay the week but she hated it. She hated Cousins, this house, the place you love the most and I knew it was never going to work,” he said, that set a little part of my heart aflame. This didn’t mean anything, he still didn’t want anything with me, but it brought me comfort that all this time he had been thinking about me.

“Thank you for saving me,” I said.

“You weren’t yourself last night,”

“I don’t just mean last night, I mean in general over all these years, thank you for saving me,” we met eyes again.

“Thank you for letting me hold you for one more night,” his voice so raw and honest.

“Do you think this feeling will ever stop?” I asked and felt the tears come to my eyes. He reached his hand towards me and pulled me into an embrace.

“I’ll always love you,” he whispered into my hair, I nodded as a few tears escaped my eyes, “I didn’t take her to our spot,” he reassured me.

“Couldn’t we at least try?” I sounded pathetic, like a little girl begging. I knew he wanted to try, this didn’t have to change anything.

“I don’t want to build something on rocky ground,” he said and he meant it, I was hurting, my family was falling apart, “My mom had cancer again Y/n/n and I don’t think she’s going to get better this time,” I could feel the sob building up in his body, his life was falling apart too.

How could we ever hope to keep ourselves together when everything around us was crumbling?

Masterlist

#conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher #jeremiah fisher x reader #jeremiah fisher x you #jeremiah fisher x y/n #jeremiah fisher #tsitp #tsitp x reader #tsitp x you #tsitp imagine #the summer i turned pretty #the summer i turned pretty x reader #the summer i turned pretty x you

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