#plus I’m a renter | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ficthots · 2 years

Text

Secret Ingredient

A/N: Surprise! Two new writings in one week? (don’t expect this of me more lol). I missed Peter so here’s a Peter piece. Enemies to lovers, living situation inspired by New Girl (literally one of the best shows ever), only the best of the best. As always let me know what you guys think and enjoy!

Warnings: SMUT. DNI if you are under 18. 18+ only

Word Count: 11.6k+

Being in your twenties is such a surreal time in life. There are people who are getting engaged and married. Others are having children. Some work part-time jobs while going to school. The best part is that for the first time ever there is no set in stone plan to follow. You do what you think is right and hope for the best.

That’s why you didn’t second guess your living situation. Honestly, you loved it. Sure, the loft was cramped and at times could be hell on earth, but mostly it was home. Your safe space.

The loft had four of you in it. You, Noah, Logan, and Peter. Your roommates. The people you spent the most time with. Who saw you at your best and worst. They were who you ate dinner with almost every night, fought over bathroom schedules with, and who you complained to about the shitty coworkers you had to deal with.

Logan was who you had known the longest. You two had met in college. Your first encounter with him was finding him sitting naked on your roommates bed, screaming as you walked in instead of her. He claimed that she had said she was going to be back at the dorm within a few minutes, but had yet to return. It was supposed to be a sexy surprise, but turned into a traumatizing experience for the both of you.

When they stopped seeing each other, you two kept in touch. Late night study sessions, lunch in the student union, and more parties than you cared to admit you had attended were all filled with Logan by your side. He moved away the last year of school to play AAA baseball, but an injury halted that track and sent him home, effectively ending his playing career.

He had his own friend group that he hung around, the other boys you lived with, but you didn’t know that much about them at the time, and you had Lily.

You and Lily had grown up with each other and spent more time together than apart. Were you two complete opposites? Absolutely. Lily was a professional model who had moved to New York way before you to pursue her passion and it had paid off. She lived with other models in a tiny apartment, but she loved it and you loved it for her. However, when you became homeless because of your ex you knew that moving in with her wasn’t an option.

Steven was your ex who you had lived with for nearly three years. He cheated on you, quite literally leaving you on the curb and you turned to Logan. The fourth bedroom in his apartment had just recently opened and they hadn’t found another renter yet. You entered their lives and had been there ever since.

You grew closer with Logan when you moved in and became quick friends with Noah. He was the most “adult” out of all of you. He had a great job that made him decent money, had a new car, and was overall doing fairly well for himself. Apart from the living with three other people thing.

The first night you all shared dinner together, the week after you had moved in, you all joked around the table, trying to get to know them all better, Lily joining as she had been helping you move. “So, Noah, do you have a boyfriend?” Logan choked on his beer at the question, doubling over in laughter and collapsing from his chair as Noah’s large eyes widened even further at you.

“Wha-what? You, you think I’m gay? Why would you think I’m gay?” He stuttered over his words as Logan wiped the tears from his eyes, Peter snickering behind his beer bottle as embarrassment coursed through you.

“Jesus, I am so sorry. You’re just so put together, you know? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a straight man's bedroom look as clean and as planned out as yours. Plus, you wear a lot of cardigans. You have more bathroom products than the rest of us put together. It just seemed to fit,” you shrugged as Logan climbed back into his chair and Noah scoffed at you.

He stabbed his chicken with his fork and laughed as he spoke. “I appreciate you noticing all of those things, but just because I am more put together than all of you hooligans combined does not mean I am a homosexual,” you shot a look to Logan, silently seeing if he agreed with you. He nodded his head in response, letting you know that he in fact thought the same when he first met him.

Lily spoke up in your defense. “I read the listing for the apartment on Craig’s List and I thought it was for an apartment with all girls. You wrote it, right, Noah?” His utensils fell to the plate in a clatter as he folded his hands on the table. “What made you think that? Was it the use of actual educated vocabulary?” She shrugged as he continued on.

“Also, have you not seen the amount of women that come in and out of my room?” You shook your head, trying not to laugh as he dove in to his graphic tales of sexual encounters with said women. Peter practically ignored the rest of the conversation, being the first to leave the table that night as everyone shared funny stories.

Noah’s room, you would come to learn, was an ever revolving door. When you went to the bar that Logan worked at you saw his demeanor with them and most of the time he didn’t even use a real name.

The first time you heard his alter ego's name, Richard Hurtz, you actually cringed. The boys thought it was hysterical and clever, Peter throwing in a comment about you not understanding it, but you got it. You flat out told them, Dick Hurtz, was just not funny. You got called stupid in return.

That was Peter. Oh, Peter. You didn’t know what his deal was, but when you two were introduced at your apartment interview, he was immediately put off by you. You had tried every trick in the book to get him to talk to you, but no matter what you did it was a wasted effort.

His room was directly across from yours, meaning that encountering each other was going to happen quite a bit and you wanted to be cordial. Hell, even friends. One night you found yourself alone in the apartment with him and you tried getting him to eat dinner with you, but he turned you down, locking himself in his room instead.

You begged Lily for advice on the phone, practically in tears because you just didn’t understand why he didn’t like you. She had told you that he was just an asshole, but you didn’t believe that.

The look he had given you when you had met was one you hadn’t seen directed at you before. You thought you were a fairly friendly person. It was rare to have someone not like you and it made you uneasy when someone didn’t. Especially when that person was who you were going to be living with.

Over time he spoke to you a bit more and kept the looks to himself, but the snide and snarky comments did not stop. You assumed it was because Lily had cornered him in the bar one night and threatened him to be nice to you or she’d kill him. Eventually you ended up confronting him about his utter disdain for you and he didn’t seem taken aback by the question at all.

“Have I done something to offend you?” He eyed you as you stared at him from the dining room table, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. “I can tell that I have done something to upset you and keep you from talking to me and whatever I did I am truly sorry. I’m not used to people not liking me and honestly it makes me want to throw up every time I’m around you because I want to be friends with you,” you rambled as he watched you, but he finally cut you off.

“I didn’t want you to move in. I didn’t want a girl in the apartment. I liked the way it was before you moved in,” you chewed on your lip as he spoke, but broke into a big grin at the end. “Hey, there’s no reason for you to have to act any differently around me! Just treat me like one of the guys,” you awkwardly tried to lean back in the chair, tucking one hand into your pants and sipping the beer that had been sitting out on the table for god knows how long. You gagged, making a face as the liquid went down your throat.

“Good lord, how old is that?” You just wanted him to like you. He shook his head, sighing as he walked out of the room and you groaned, letting your head rest against the table top. You really did try everything you could, even reading one of his old college textbooks from his room to try and understand what he was talking about when he spoke about work.

He worked at Oscorpe and according to Noah and Logan, was a borderline genius. You figured that if you attempted to build a relationship with him in regards to his interests he would love it!

It didn’t impress him. Instead only earning a narrowed eye stare and silence in return as you tried to make small talk about an “article” you had read earlier that week from the Times. Really, all you did was a quick google search on science stories and memorized the title.

It was finally your chance as you two were alone in the loft, he was parked on the couch watching tv and you approached quietly, not wanting to frighten him off. You sat in silence for a bit before you shakily spoke up, clearing your throat to signal that you were going to speak. “Did you see that article about how some scientists restored organ function to pigs after they died?”

You flipped through a magazine, as nonchalantly as possible as he sat at the other end of the sofa, watching the news about Spider-Man. His head turned towards you and gave you that look and offered no response as you tried to drag any conversation with him out. You didn’t look up from the magazine in your hands as you spoke again, “Pretty crazy, huh?”

He sighed, turning the volume up on the tv as you abandoned that method. You decided to talk to him about Spider-Man. Everyone knows about Spider-Man and you even had a personal encounter with him. “He saved me once,” you mentioned as you watched the news. His jaw set tightly as you said that. Peter offered no suggestion to continue with the story, but you did anyway.

“Yeah, he saved me from a burning building. The dorm I lived in. Some idiot was cooking with a hotplate and it caught fire. I was asleep with my headphones on and didn’t hear the smoke detectors. He got me out of the building. He was a really cool guy and offered me some tips on safety like not sleeping with noise cancelling headphones on,” you chuckled at the memory, feeling so stupid about the circumstances.

Peter’s gaze bore into you as you spoke and for a split second you swore you saw his lip quirk a tiny bit at your tale. “I always like seeing him in the news. Means he’s still helping people. Hopefully, I will not need his assistance again,” you met his eyes and he looked away, attention going back to the tv.

“Knowing you, you probably will.” You wanted to scream and jump as you got him to actually respond to you. No matter how cool you tried to play it, the smile that spread over your face couldn’t be hidden.

It was rare to have a private moment at home because someone was always there. Always. That’s why as you ended the awkward first date you had been on with some guy a girl at work had set you up with, you were actually grateful that they were home.

He was the most bland person you had ever spoken with before. You couldn’t even remember his name, it had been that bad. He spoke like a robot and his most enthralling story of the night had been about how at work last week he made a rubber band ball. He wasn’t the type you would normally go for, but hey a free meal is a free meal. Now you regretted it as you approached your door, positively drained from the evening.

The young man quickly dropped you off and made his departure as you walked in the front door, throwing your purse on the entryway table. The guys all sat on the sofa, watching football as you walked towards them, taking your corner spot with a loud sigh.

“Date didn’t go well?” You took the beer offered to you from Logan’s outstretched hand. “Nope. I watched ice melt to keep myself entertained. Food was shit too,” you reached forward and grabbed the bag of chips from the coffee table. You looked around to see where the beer had come from and Logan pointed to the floor.

“Cooler. Now we don’t have to get up,” you nodded your head and leaned back against the couch and chuckled. “Nice,” you stuffed a handful of chips into your mouth as Noah spoke up.

He shrugged as he scrolled on his phone. “You need to stop dating and just do what I do. Makes it so much easier,” you contemplated his words and nudged him with your foot. “I haven’t had sex in three months. You think you could help me find someone to hook up with?”

The guys all collectively groaned at your announcement, but he nodded his head. “You need a casual hook-up. Logan works tomorrow night at the bar. When you’re off work, meet us there and I’ll help you,” Logan’s attention never left the TV as a team scored, he cheered as he checked the sheets of paper in front of him, marking things down.

Logan ruffled your hair and you slapped his hand away as Peter stood from the couch. “I can’t wait to see this. You have the worst personality for casual flings,” he stretched as he walked to his room. His shirt slowly rode up and offered a quick glance at his abs, arms flexing below the fabric of his sweater.

How the hell was he so built? He works in a lab and you had never seen him workout before. You snapped out of your thoughts when Logan and Noah shouted again, jumping up from the couch as one team stole the ball from their competitor. “That wasn’t very nice,” you said as you sipped your beer and Noah laughed, shaking his head at you.

“I needed that for my fantasy team,” Logan murmured as he opened his phone.

You sat at the bar, sipping on a Long Island Iced Tea as Logan and Noah scouted the room for you. Lily sat beside you, acting as your hype girl for the night. Your eyes widened at the incredibly attractive man that entered the building. “What about tall, dark, and handsome over there? Mama needs a piece of that,” a chorus of ew’s echoed from the boys as Logan shook his head.

Lily nodded hers and smiled. “Hell yes. He would be perfect,” Logan gave an overexaggerated shutter. “Don’t talk like that. It’s so gross,” you straightened your dress hem as you stood up, ignoring his words.

You wore one of your favorites tonight and you thought you looked pretty good. “Okay, I’m going. I can totally do this,” you were trying to hype yourself up as Peter rolled his eyes at you. Lily pinched his arm and he leaned away from her, hissing in pain, rubbing the spot.

“Just don’t be yourself and you should be fine,” you shot him a mean glance, but took his words more literally than he probably meant. Don’t be yourself and you should be fine. Don’t be yourself.

As you sauntered over to the other end of the bar the man smiled. You took the seat next to him, trying to be alluring and mysterious, but saw Noah shake his head and mouth, “Change your face!” Lily chewed on her lip, whispering with them as they all watched.

You quickly shook whatever look off that he had pointed out and the man spoke up. “Can I get you something to drink, gorgeous?” You fluttered your eyelashes at his question. “Sure, thank you. I’ll take a vodka cran. Light cran,” you thought of the girliest drink you could and that was what came to mind first. You decided to roll with your plan.

Don’t be yourself. “I’m Jonathan. What’s your name, beautiful?” You shook his outstretched hand gently. You needed this. Something different. No strings attached.

His smirk grew as you offered a fake name, sipping the drink that Logan had placed in front of you. You two chatted for a while quickly realizing you two had nothing in common. This was good! It was exactly what you needed.

He had leaned into you more as you two continued chatting, hand landing on your knee as he whispered to you. “Wanna get out of here? We can go back to my place?” You bit your lip, nodding as you stood with him, letting him lead you out of the bar.

You shot a glance over your shoulder and saw the group shoot you a thumbs up, cheering you on. Peter sat with a grimace on his face that you ignored. Nothing new with him.

When you got to Jonathan’s place things escalated quickly. You two were in a messy kiss that you were not enjoying as he took your bottom lip between his teeth.

“Um, ow. Sorry, can you not do that?” You laughed, trying to keep it light as he nodded, leading you to his room. Most of your clothing was forgotten as he started to attempt to rub you. That should’ve been your warning sign, but you kept it going, silently hoping it would get better.

It didn’t. The rest of the experience was a horrible let down. He obviously did not know about female anatomy because he never found what he was looking for and given you didn’t know this man you didn’t offer assistance. His dirty talk mostly consisted of asking if you felt good.

When it was finished you climbed off of his lap and sat on the bed next to him. A large smile took over his face as you wrapped yourself in the top sheet from his bed. “Wow. That was amazing,” he kissed your cheek as you only nodded your head in response.

Within minutes he was snoring. You quickly gathered your clothes and got dressed, making your way back to the apartment. When you got home you sighed into the quiet space and went straight to your room.

You fought within yourself, feeling incredibly dirty and just wanting to wash off the night from you, but so frustrated with how the evening's events played out that climbing straight into bed sounded like heaven. Everyone's doors were shut, no lights peering from underneath as you made your way to the shared bathroom.

You felt grimy and began scrubbing yourself, using the removable showerhead to get your back. You didn’t mean for it to happen, but when you felt the water pulse against you an involuntary moan slipped out. It was well past one in the morning. Who would know?

You let the water push against your throbbing clit, breaths going shallow and feeling yourself warm up. The pleasure was building now in your belly, but you were teetering on the edge, not able to fully fall over it. Your mind began to wander and you thought back to the events of the other night.

Seeing his shirt expose his toned and ripped torso, the hidden muscles on his arms flex as he stretched. His head rolling to the side showcasing his incredible jaw line that had light stubble growing on it that you imagined scratching your inner thighs. His large hands wander over your body, kneading at your flesh.

As you were about to finish, the coil in you about to snap, you heard the bathroom door shut. Your eyes snapped open, your orgasm long forgotten as you mustered up the courage to poke your head out of the curtain. No one was in there, thank god, but you weren’t sure how loud you had been.

You felt shameful that you had let your mind think to one of your roommates in order to cum. What the hell was wrong with you?

You wrapped up your shower and wandered back to your room when you saw it. The light streamed out from underneath Peter’s door, but turned off as you walked by. Your face burned at the idea that he had heard you.

There was no possibility he had known you were thinking of him, but it felt horrible knowing you had used your mind to get off on the thought of him.

You got to your room and softly shut the door. Maybe he didn’t hear anything. Maybe he opened the door, heard the shower was on, and left. The chance of that being true was little, but you clung to that thought. It was what helped you fall asleep, pissed that you had been robbed of an orgasm twice that night.

The next morning you gave yourself a pep talk to go into the kitchen, ready to face whatever was waiting for you. A breath of relief escaped you as you discovered the living quarters empty.

As you poured yourself a bowl of cereal, reveling in the rare silence that hardly ever came across the apartment, you heard feet shuffling. Bringing the spoon to your mouth, you tried not to let any attention fall to the boy who had entered the room.

He made no effort to chat so there was a chance that you had been worrying for nothing. There was a chance it wasn’t even him who came to the bathroom last night. Peter probably didn’t hear anything.

The sound of your spoon hitting the bowl and his movements around the kitchen as he made a smoothie echoed off the walls, filling the uncomfortable silence that settled over you two whenever you seemed to find yourselves alone together.

A glass was placed in front of you, a light pink liquid filling it half full. “I made too much,” your eyes widened in surprise as he walked out of the room, sipping his own.

“Thank you!” You called out after him, but he stopped and turned on his heel. “By the way, if you’re going to masturbate in shared spaces, keep it down so you don’t disturb the entire loft,” your jaw fell slack at his words, speechless as he turned and continued his walk to his room, a laugh falling from him as he did.

The group all cackled as you sat at the bar, sharing the story of your failed one night stand from the previous week. “He fell asleep how fast?” Your face burned at Noah’s question, playing with the napkin that sat under your drink. “Within like five minutes of completion,” Logan gagged at your response.

“God, don’t call it that. You’re gonna ruin sex for me. It’s like hearing my grandmother talk about it,” an exasperated sigh left you, lightly bouncing in your seat. “Guys, please help me! I just want good, no strings attached sex,” Peter snorted into his beer, leaving his spot at the bar and saying goodnight to everyone as his phone went off.

Was that a news alert? What normal guy had news alerts on his phone? Lily snapped you out of your thoughts, asking you questions about what else you were looking for instead.

Noah scouted the room and pointed at a man by the jukebox. “He’ll do. Go,” before you could protest, he shoved you off the stool.

The night ended worse than the week before. He finished within three minutes and you left as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

You prayed the apartment would be quiet with everyone asleep as you shut the door behind you. The TV’s noise indicated that your prayers had been left unanswered. Even worse, it was Peter on the couch occupying the space.

He eyed you as he sipped his beer. “You’re home early.” It was meant more as an out loud observation rather than a segway for conversation, but this was your chance and the most he had ever offered you.

“In the last week I’ve had two awful sexual encounters. I’m giving up,” you sat on the opposite end of the couch, following your patterns from the last time this happened, not wanting to spook him. You just wanted this to go on a bit longer.

He only shrugged as he nursed the beer, but you continued talking, nerves wracking you as you spoke to him. “I guess sex just isn’t great for girls. Like when I was with Steven, I mean he loved it, but I never climaxed. Every hook-up since has just been a let down,” Peter’s eyes widened at you.

“You’ve never finished with a guy before?” You shook your head as his eyes nearly bugged out at you. “No. I know I can finish cause I mean I can do it myself,” your cheeks burned as you rambled on, feeling awkward talking about this, especially with Peter.

“Sorry, I ramble when I’m nervous. This is the longest we’ve ever talked and it’s about my sexual blunders. I will actually keep talking if you do not stop me. Do you always make girls finish? Noah brags all the time about it. Guys always do though like this guy I went to highschool with. I was at a party and he asked me if he could finger me and I punched him for asking. Another time in college I heard some girls talking about fisting and when I looked it up online I almost passed out. There was this one-,” Peter finally cut you off, putting both his hands up watching you.

“Please just stop talking for two seconds. You ask questions then leave no space for responses,” you leaned back on the cushion and groaned. “And yes. Most guys do so either you’re doing something wrong or they are,” his words played around in your head.

What if he was right? What if you were the issue? How the hell could you fix this? You wanted to be able to have good sex and for once have an orgasm, but if you were doing something wrong how would you know? Your head slowly turned to Peter, reaching your decision at lightning speed.

“Have sex with me,” he choked on his beer, a coughing fit following as the words settled over him. “What the hell? Absolutely not,” you moved closer to him on the couch. “Please? Peter, it would help me so much! You would be able to tell me what I’m doing wrong and coach me through it. Plus, you’d be getting sex for it. Obviously, we wouldn’t tell anyone. We aren’t that close so it wouldn’t be too weird. I mean it’s not like me sleeping with Logan, you know what I mean?” he was shaking his head as you continued on.

“No. That would only make things weird. I’m not your sex coach,” your bottom lip pushed out as you gave the best puppy dog look you could. You clasped your hands together in a begging motion as you moved even closer, thighs brushing one another.

“Just think about it. You don’t have to give me an answer right now. Think about it,” You didn’t wait to see his reaction, going towards the restroom to shower off another failed night.

You didn’t see Peter all of the following week. He was ignoring you of course. Each day that passed was a painful reminder of what you had asked him to do. You still thought it was a good idea.

You and Peter were not close. Having sex would be like having sex with a stranger. A stranger you lived across the hall from, but it would be fine. You would be able to continue on with life afterwards like nothing happened and hopefully have better sex thereafter.

That was what you kept telling to yourself to make you feel better about asking that of him.

It was late on a Friday and you had the loft to yourself. Noah was out with some girl, Lily was busy, and Logan had a closing shift at the bar. Having the TV free meant a Twilight marathon and you were so happy.

Rain lightly fell outside, the room was chilly as you sprawled out on the couch, a thick blanket over you. You had no idea who’s sweatshirt you were wearing, but it was cozy and kept you warm.

Peter’s door flew open and revealed a dripping wet boy. You paused the TV as his gaze fell on you. You awkwardly smiled and waved at him, but confusion etched across your face as you took him in.

“Why are you wet?” His wide eyes looked frantic as he tried to respond to you. You knew it. What little, tiny progress you had made with him was gone because of your ask of him. He was nervous to be around you!

“I just showered,” he responded as he walked to the kitchen. Your brows furrowed. You didn’t hear the shower running, but discarded your follow up question as he walked past where you sat, looking for a matching sock.

You gently took his hand in yours and his head snapped to you. “Have you thought about what I asked?” He sighed at your question. He removed his hand from yours like he had been burned. You watched him close it into a tight fist. You let your hand go to your chest, worried that you had hurt him in some way.

“Yes and the answer is still no.” Your smile fell and you sat up, discarding your blanket and facing him. His eyes fell to the sweatshirt you were wearing and he pointed at it. “That’s mine,” you looked down and started issuing apologies as you went to remove it.

“Oh, I’m sorry. It was on the back of the couch and I got cold. Noah doesn’t let me run the heater,” you chuckled, but his hand landed on yours, stilling your movements. “It’s fine.” You thanked him, but you had questions gnawing at you about why he wouldn’t sleep with you.

“Peter. Why won’t you sleep with me? Is it because I’m not your type? Or am I not pretty or something?” A bewildered look took over his face at your questions.

“No, no. It’s not that. You’re very pretty,” your heart skipped a beat at his words. Peter thought you were pretty. “I just don’t want things weird around here,” you waved him off, pulling him onto the couch with you, but he put distance between you both as he sat.

“Don’t worry about that! I promise it won’t be weird. It won’t,” he shook his head at your words. So, you went to the last resort.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes as a chorus of pleases and pretty pleases flowed from you. It went on this way for a minute as he turned and eyed you and in the blink of an eye, Peter’s lips collided with yours. His hands enclosed around yours that sat on the tops of your thighs.

The shock faded from you as your eyes slipped shut, returning the kiss. Peter broke off and his eyes scanned your face. “One time. I will sleep with you one time. It will be tomorrow at one when everyone is asleep. It will happen in your bedroom. No one knows, especially Lily. This stays between us, do you understand?”

You nodded your head quickly, feeling butterflies erupt in your stomach. He got up from the couch, going to his room. Your breathing was ragged and uneven as you tried to calm down. What the hell did you just do?

You were going to sleep with Peter Parker.

The following day you didn’t see Peter once. He was gone before you woke up and not home when you got back from work. The work day had been entirely pointless, your mind only able to think about your arrangement for later that evening.

You were going to give Peter a chance to back out. A nagging feeling was pushing into your thoughts that you had pressured him into this. What was this going to do to your relationship? Honestly, it couldn’t go further south than it already was.

You stood in front of your floor length mirror, your robe opened at the front, looking at your bra and panties. The light green material with floral embellishments suited your skin. The cups were mesh, showcasing your entire breast. The thong matched, leaving nothing to the imagination. It was your favorite set you had.

When a light knock on your door shook you from your thoughts, you quickly closed the robe and went to answer it. Peter stepped in after you and you both stood there, looking at one another before you spoke.

“Listen, Peter, if you don’t want to do this, I completely understand. I don’t want you to feel like I pressured you or anything,” a smirk took over his lips as you spoke. “I said I’d help so I’m gonna help,” you lightly nodded as he stepped closer to you, hand going to your jaw.

You giggled and pulled away. “I’m so nervous. Just-uh, tell me something about yourself. Like a fun fact or something to help me,” he rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Like what?” You shrugged, bouncing from one foot to the other, hands playing together as you sighed.

“I don’t know. Anything,” He narrowed his eyes and looked at you. “I’ve lived in New York my entire life,” surprise took over you at the fact. “Oh my gosh, really? You seem like the type of person who’s lived in New York his whole life, but I didn’t want to assume. What was high school like?”

He shrugged and sat on the bed. “It was good. I went to a science high school so I was destined for the science path,” you moved closer to him, standing between his legs as he talked. “You seem like it. Really smart I mean,” you spoke quieter as he looked up at you, hands moving to your waist as you pushed the hair out of his face.

It was softer than you imagined. His thumbs swept across your hip bone as he gave a soft smile. “You have a really pretty smile,” you chuckled as your hand went lower, lightly cupping his jaw. His smile grew slightly larger as yours beamed at him. You bent down just slightly, Peter almost your height even sitting and connected your lips together.

The kiss was gentle at first, exploring one another in a way you hadn’t before. You two kissed for awhile before Peter broke away and his honey eyes swept over you. You hadn’t seen them this close before and they were gorgeous, unbelievably easy to get lost in for hours. “I’m gonna kiss you again and take your robe off, okay?”

His breath fanned over your face as he whispered to you. He connected you both together, lips dancing as you both started breathing heavier. One of his hands left your hip, pulling at the silk tie of your robe. You let it fall off your shoulders and Peter pulled back as he eyed you, brows furrowing.

“You bought lingerie for this?” You shook your head, moving your hands to tangle in his locks as his eyes scanned over your near naked frame. “No, this is just my bra and panties. I have a bunch like this,” his eyes closed and he chuckled as he pulled you to him.

“Of course you do,” his lips landed on yours again as your arms wrapped around his neck. He tasted so good, you didn’t want to stop as his tongue explored your mouth, small whimpers leaving you at the feeling. Your hands moved to the bottom of his t-shirt, pulling it up and discarding it in the room.

Peter pulled back, lips swollen and glistening. “Okay, so kissing isn’t the problem,” he chuckled breathlessly as you peered down at him, relief evident at his revelation. He nudged you gently towards the bed and you laid down, Peter following and putting his weight on you.

“Let’s just let this naturally progress so I can see what you do, okay?” You agreed as you laid back and his lips attacked your skin. His hands brushed across your chest, a gasp leaving you as his finger pinched your puckered nipple through the thin fabric.

“There’s condoms on the nightstand,” you mumbled as he kissed your neck. He pulled away and stopped, seeing your confused look. “We’re not even close to that,” your confusion only ran deeper as Peter stared down at you.

“I have to get you ready first. Has a guy ever warmed you up before he just fucked you?” You felt embarrassed by his question. Too mortified to respond, you just shook your head, hiding behind your hands.

He gently removed them from your face. “Hey, don’t hide from me. It’s not your fault. That’s their job, not yours. I need you to tell me how this normally goes for you. What have you done?” You shrugged thinking back to your past sexual experiences.

“They normally kiss me for a bit, throw a condom on, put me on top, and that’s about it. Oh, I’ve also given blowjobs. Not many, but a few. That’s about it,” Peter’s jaw fell open and he grew almost angry as you explained.

“Have you ever been on bottom?” You shook your head, a small no following. “Have you ever been given oral?” You offered the same response as before. “Have you ever been fingered?” You laughed, trying to lighten the mood. “I’ve done it to myself, but never by someone else. Last week the guy spent most of the time rubbing my left lip and I just wanted it to be over so I didn’t say anything,” Peter’s eyes shut as he calmed himself down at your words.

“Jesus christ. Alright, I’m gonna fix this,” before you could respond his lips were back on your neck. A sigh fell from you at the feeling, but you tried to hold it in, Peter reluctantly pulled away, eyeing you. “Don’t hold back for me. I need to hear you,” you nodded at him as he bent back down, lips attaching to your nipple over the mesh of your bra, a nervous laugh escaping at his words that faded into a moan.

Your breath stuttered at the feeling, his hand working your other breast. His hands went behind your back, unhooking the bra and removing it. He went back to work as your breathing grew ragged. His fingers brushed down your torso and paused at the top of your panties. He gently let his fingertips skip over your core.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he groaned as he felt you. “M’sorry,” you mumbled as he chuckled. “Don’t apologize, that’s good, dove.” That name. You knew that name. Someone had called you that name before.

You didn’t have time to dwell on it because you felt his slender finger pull your panties to the side and run a single knuckle through your folds.

Your breath hitched as he moved from your chest to your cunt. His forearm landed on your lower stomach, locking you in place with an insane strength, forcing your legs to stay open for him. “You have the most beautiful pussy I’ve ever seen,” you giggled nervously as his fingers gathered your slick and landed in his mouth.

“Thank you,” his laugh made you jerk, his breath fanning across you. His tongue flattened and you jumped, eyes going wide at the new sensation. His grip didn’t let you get far, holding you to the bed. The singular flick of his tongue drove you wild, desperate for more.

Your panties slid down your hips, being discarded behind him as he kissed along the inside of your thighs, inching closer to you. When Peter attached his mouth to your core, you moaned, loud and deep.

Eyes squeezing shut and your body going rigid as he sucked your clit inbetween his teeth, tongue lapping at your hole. Whimpers and moans flitted from you, warmth radiating off of you in waves. You knew you were close and Peter moved you closer to your release as his finger slipped into you.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he murmered as he slowly thrusted his fingers into you. “Oh my god, Peter,” his eyes darkened as he looked up at you, gathering your gaze as you moaned his name.

He added another finger, moving quicker as you thrashed below him. “C’mon, dove. You’re close. Cum for me.” Almost on command you felt like the wind had been knocked out of you as you hit your high.

Stars filled your vision as Peter milked you through it. “There you go. Good girl,” he whispered as he removed his fingers, coming back up to you and meeting your lips again.

He reached for the nightstand and grabbed a condom. The trash discarded as your eyes traveled down as he removed his sweats, seeing how large he was. Your eyes slightly widened and he smiled at the reaction.

“Inflate my ego, please,” you rolled your eyes and as you went to retaliate, his head slipped in. “Shit,” he breathed out into your neck. As he slipped further in, the more noises came from you. “You fit me perfectly,” he laughed momentarily as you thanked him, begging him to move right after.

You couldn’t fight the smile that took over your face at Peter’s laugh. It was so nice and something you didn’t hear often. Forcing your heart to flutter at the noise, a special music that only played for those that earned it.

“You have a lovely laugh,” it was breathless and panted out between moans, but you wanted him to know. He peered down at you, sitting fully in you and he started moving, connecting your lips.

As he picked up his pace, hitting deeply inside you, your moans mixed together in his mouth. He lifted one leg, sitting it on his shoulder, hands moving to your hips as he thrust deeper into you.

“Dove, don’t flutter your walls like that. I won’t last,” he grunted out as your eyes rolled shut, head falling to the side. “Sorry,” he shook his head, placing a kiss to the side of your knee.

His thumb landed on your clit, rubbing fast circles that had you a mumbling, moaning mess. Tears fell from the corners of your eyes, feeling another orgasm quickly approaching.

“Peter, m’gonna cum,” he picked up his pace at your words, keeping the same force, thumb still working you. “Cum for me. I’m right there with you,” you released around him, gutting moans silenced as he kissed you, you involuntarily tightening around his dick as he came.

He slowed his thrusts to a stop as he released your leg from his grip, leaning down and kissing your collarbones, trying to catch your breath as he did. “Was that okay? Did I do good? I feel like I didn’t do much,” You were still fighting to catch your breath as you asked. His gaze caught yours and you watched something flicker through his eyes as you waited for him to say something. Confusion? Anger? Hurt?

It was gone as quick as it appeared, but he got dressed quickly, not saying another word as you slipped your robe back on. He left the room as you got up from the bed, awkwardly grabbing your discarded bra from the floor, scanning the space for your panties.

Mortification hit you like a truck. Was it really that bad? You thought it had been pretty good. Wonderful actually. It must not have been as good for him. You should’ve done more.

The door to your room opened and Peter came in with a glass of water, watching you as you made eye contact with him. He handed the cup to you and you quietly thanked him, sipping as Peter grabbed your free hand.

He pulled you to him and gently kissed your forehead. You stood there in shock at the intimate movement. “You are not the problem,” you blinked up at him, not knowing what to say as his thumb swept on your cheekbone before he pulled away, saying goodnight and leaving you standing there like a deer in headlights.

You looked around the room, continuing with your search to keep your mind off of what had just happened. You had sex with Peter and it had been great. He even thought so. You giggled, jumping with a whispered, “Yes!” following the movement, a huge smile taking over your features.

Now where the hell were your underwear?

You expected the next morning to be weird and uncomfortable, but it wasn’t. It was how it always was with Peter. He simply acted like you didn’t exist. Noah checked the time and whistled as you appeared in the kitchen.

“Looks like someone got laid last night.” You froze in your spot, stuttering as you looked at the boys around the island. “Wha-what?” Logan smiled as Peter stared you down from behind them.

“You’re literally glowing and floating into the room. You got some last night. Midnight mystery man knows how to do it,” a shaky breath released from you as you laughed, cheeks burning.

“Oh-oh. Yeah, I had a guy over last night. It was okay,” you shrugged as Peter set the milk down, eyes narrowing at you. Noah bit into his bagel, talking as he chewed. “Just okay?” You sipped your orange juice and smirked into the glass.

“I mean, I’ve had better,” Peter audibly laughed, causing all eyes to fall on him. “I doubt that,” your eyes widened at him. “Is that so?” He smirked at you, arms crossing over his chest.

“By the sounds I heard last night, I’d say so. Sounded like you were having the time of your life,” Noah and Logan watched you two like a tennis match, heads bouncing back and forth between you two.

Noah’s phone went off and he groaned. “I would love to see how this ends, but we need to go,” he grabbed Logan and dragged him from the kitchen despite the protests of wanting to watch this.

When the front door closed, you two stared at each other before Peter spoke first. “You’re a little liar, dove,” he slowly approached you, backing you up against the counter, trapping you. “Hmm, am I?”

He smiled as he looked down at you. His smile was breathtaking as you saw his features morph with it as it grew. “You are. You know I’m the best you’ve had. I’ll even top myself,” Peter leaned down, nose brushing along yours, lips achingly close to yours.

Your eyes shut, waiting for him to make the next move, but he pulled away. “I’ll see you tonight,” he sauntered out of the room, leaving you to stabilize your breathing and stop the shaking of your hands at his promise.

And he did. Multiple times after that first encounter. It had become a regular occurrence during the week. Peter would slink into your room in the dead of night, the two of you fucking for as long as you could possibly last, testing the limits with one another, and then you would act like neither one of you existed the next day.

It worked at first. The first few months went without a hitch with that unspoken agreement. Until you started to notice the shift in his demeanor to you on a daily basis. The once asshole persona that he put on for you was slowly cracking as you chipped away at it.

He started sitting next to you on the couch even when there were other seats open. When you got to the bar after everyone else, your drink was sitting at the stool next to him, waiting for you. If he knew you two were alone in the loft after fucking you raw, he would carry you into the shower, laughter bellowing from the two of you as he had you over his shoulder. Peter would wander into your room, sitting on your bed to just talk to you about your day.

Things were changing and while you were happy about it, you were confused. These feelings that you felt blooming were not supposed to be happening. You didn’t want him to leave after you would sleep together, but knew that was crossing a threshold. You wanted to hang out more, just the two of you. You craved him when he wasn’t around. It wasn’t good.

Peter laid on your bed, cheeks burning and flush after another late night session, but you jumped up, giggles flowing from you as you grabbed your robe and threw it on. His laugh flitted through the air at you, hand grabbing your wrist and tugging you back to him.

You hummed as his lips met yours, hand caressing your jaw, smiling into the kiss. “Where you going, dove?” Your teeth sank into your bottom lip as your hand rested on his chest, stomach flipping at the pet name. You pecked his lips again, fighting with yourself to go and get what you wanted or stay in his warm embrace.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back,” he nodded, lips landing on the tip of your nose as you hurried into the kitchen, grabbing the plate of cookies you had made earlier and a small glass of milk for him.

When you entered your room, he hadn’t moved. His arm was tucked behind his head, still completely nude and only covered by your duvet. His bicep was flexed unintentionally, the expanse of his chest was massive, his toned torso had you drooling.

His smile grew as he saw what you had in your hands. You sat on your knees on the bed, handing him the plate and the glass. “Post sex snack. I’m trying out a new recipe and want to know what you think,” his eyes fluttered shut as he bit into the cookie, a groan following as he took the glass of milk and chugged it, grabbing another cookie as he did.

With his mouth full, his eyes met yours and smiled. “Fucking phenonemal. You can bake, baby,” you giggled as he ate, snagging the plate from your hands and hoarding them from you. “They’re yours, promise!” He placed the plate on the nightstand table and grabbed you, placing you on his lap, lips skirting across your collarbones.

“Baking cookies for me to eat after sex, doesn’t get better than this.” His hand covered your mouth, knowing a squeal was going to follow as he flipped you both, placing you on your back and attacking your skin once again.

Peter didn’t leave your room that night. When you woke up the next morning to an empty bed, your heart ached. You didn’t know when he had left, but it hurt. You missed Peter.

He didn’t make any further advancements. You didn’t know what was going on, but the lingering touches and gazes he shot at you, even around the others, had your head spinning. You knew he didn’t want anyone to know about this little thing and you understood why.

The loft’s ecosystem was fragile and the tiniest things could cause major shifts. You all knew the rules and one of the rules was no sleeping with each other. Now you understand that even more.

When Lily set you up on a date with someone else, you didn’t know what to do. Would Peter say something? You were fairly certain he was feeling the same, the icy man you had known was almost completely melted and a new, adoring one stood in his place.

“Lily wants to set me up with someone.” You had blurted it out one night as he slipped back into his briefs. It was like watching a new personality shift and take his place. His body tensed, freezing entirely, but nodded and shrugged. “I don’t know if I want to go though,” he cut you off before you could finish with a harsh laugh.

“You should. I’m about done with this anyways. Think it’s time to be done. Should’ve stopped a while ago, but it’s so easy with you just across the hall.” It was like he had slapped you across the face. He turned on his heel, sauntering out of your room right after those words had left his mouth like it was nothing new.

It shouldn’t have been something new for you. This was how Peter was and this was a temporary situation. Nothing more. Despite how you felt and what you were slightly hoping would happen. It was silly. You were nothing more than a convenient and easy lay for him. He would never feel the same way.

Lily sat waiting for you at the restaurant, drinks and appetizers already ordered. When you sat across from her, her scrutinizing gaze washed over you.

“Are you having sex? Like good sex?” You had barely situated yourself and you stared at her, mouth hanging open. “What? What makes you ask that?” She shrugged, monitoring your every move.

“You’re carrying yourself like you did,” you rolled your eyes as you sipped your drink. “I was. Not anymore though. Tell me about that guy you were talking about,” she instantly perked up, trying to pry the information out of you.

“Okay, tell me all about it. How is it? Are you finishing? Is it the same guy or different guys? What’s his name? What does he look like?” As her questions came quickly, one after another, you noticed your table start to shake. Every other second, the whole room vibrated.

A hushed silence fell over the restaurant as everyone waited to see if it would stop. You peered around Lily, having a clear view of the street outside. A large, robotic creature came pounding down the street.

Your jaw fell slack as you grabbed her hand, a rush of other restaurant goers running towards the back of the building to exit through the alley, but there were too many people trying to get out at once. You and Lily crouched behind the bar with a scream as the glass walls that adorned the front of the building smashed open, a mail truck sat blocking the front.

The red and blue blur of his suit landed on the mail truck that sat half in the building and half out. Lily peeked over the counter, pulling you with her to see what was happening. A few other of the employees and people just simply trying to enjoy their dinners took up the space around you both.

You couldn’t make out what Spider-Man was saying, your adrenaline pumping too hard to focus on what was being shouted, but he sounded familiar. You knew that voice. You knew it. His masked head turned and saw people still in the building and yelled for everyone to get out through the back.

You froze dead in your spot as realization washed over you. No. There was no way. There was absolutely no chance it was him.

It was Peter. That was Peter.

As you went to stand with Lily, you watched as his head did a double take in your direction. You looked directly at the white eyes, holding each other's stare for a few seconds too long as Lily grabbed you, screaming your name and that you needed to go.

You looked at her briefly and started moving, stepping over broken glass. When you turned to look back at him, he was gone.

The boys all sat on the couch, watching the breaking news of what had happened in the last hour as you both bounded through the door, shaking uncontrollably. Noah and Logan looked towards you and saw how frazzled you both were.

As Lily began explaining what happened, you scanned the apartment. “Where is he?” They all stopped and looked at you. “Peter? He’s in his room,” Noah said as Lily sat on the couch with them, trying to calm down.

You moved quickly to his door, trying to open it, but finding it locked. You pounded on the door. “Peter! Peter, open the door!” There was no movement, no noise on the other side.

The tremble in your hands grew more frantic. Your stomach was in knots. Peter was Spider-Man. Peter Parker was Spider-Man. Who knew? Did the guys know?

When you turned back to the living room, everyone's eyes were on you. “Are you okay? Did you hit your head?” Logan asked, moving towards you. You stepped back from him. “Oh, I’m fine! I need to talk to Peter. When he comes home, tell him I need to talk to him,” they all stood dumbfounded at your outburst, not used to seeing you act like this.

You went straight to your room and opened the door. As you did, a gloved hand went over your mouth, muffling your scream as they kicked the door shut.

“Calm down, calm down. It’s me, it’s me!” Your eyes whipped to the side as you saw Peter standing there in the Spider-Man garb. “I’m going to remove my hand and I need you to keep quiet, okay?” Your breathing evened out and you nodded your head.

He moved his hand and you turned, scanning over his figure. “Holy fuck! Are you okay? Did he hurt you? I don’t understand. I don’t understand. Peter, are you Spider-Man? Seriously? Are you?” He watched you as your hands had a death grip on his forearms, fingernails digging in through the fabric of his suit.

He was frantic, panic taking him over as he searched you. “I’m fine. I’m not hurt. Are you hurt, dove? I saw you at the restaurant with Lily and I don’t know how close you were to the windows,” his hand cupped your cheeks, tilting your head around as he searched you for any visible injuries. “No, I’m fine. We’re fine. We were towards the back,” he nodded his head, crushing you to him as he pulled you into a hug, a big sigh leaving him, lips placing a chaste kiss to your forehead before withdrawing his touch.

You instantly missed it, the comfort it offered gone as he moved back in your room, away from you. What the hell was happening?

“Okay, good. Yes, I’m Spider-Man. I’ve been Spider-Man since I was fifteen,” your jaw fell slack as you looked at him. You were roommates with Spider-Man. You had slept with Spider-Man.

“Holy shit, Peter! What the fuck? Who knows?” He started removing the suit and as you watched, your features morphed into one of confusion. As normal Peter came back to the room, suit discarded, you recalled the events of the night from just a few days ago. The two being completely different entities. The words he had said to you replayed in your mind. You halted and stepped back from him. “You��re the one who saved me,” it came out as a whisper, brain almost unable to piece the information together.

The sweet, sarcastic, funny superhero who had been your savior and who had sat and chatted with you for a bit after the dramatic saving was Peter. Asshole Peter who wouldn’t give you the time of day until you continuously spread your legs for him.

His eyes darted to your figure as he stepped into his regular pants, stopping his motions as he slowly nodded. “Yeah, it was me.” You couldn’t help the feelings of anger that coursed through you, some sort of betrayal washing over your mind.

“So, he can be nice to me. He can joke around with me about the shitty situation that I had been in, but not you. Not unless my legs are spread for you? Because it’s nice to have an easy fuck when I’m across the hall. Wouldn’t talk to me in public, wouldn’t let me sit next to you on the couch, would leave a room when I entered it. You know what, Peter,” you scoffed, irritation bubbling up in you, tears slowly falling down your cheeks, “get out. If you don’t want to treat me like a person then go. You said you were done with this anyways.”

His mouth was open, brows furrowing and shaking his head, moving towards you to try and calm you down as the words flew from you. You opened your bedroom door, not caring that everyone was still in the living room and stood next to the door, forcing him out.

You didn’t want him in your safe space. He didn’t deserve it.

Lily left later that night and you laid in your bed, tears hitting the pillow at the sheer stupidity of the problem you had. Why did you think Peter would act like a decent human to you? It had been years of continuous shit and a few months of secretly sleeping together would change it? Dumb.

A tapping at your window had you rolling over and seeing the culprit in his garb had you sitting up in your bed, a bewildered expression on your face as he pointed to the lock and was asking you to open it.

It was freezing out and raining. You didn’t want him sick because then he would get everyone else sick. That’s the only reason to open the window.

As he climbed in, removing the mask and shaking his wet hair out, his skin was pasty with the red tint sitting on his cheeks and the tip of his nose. You turned and grabbed the spare throw blanket you had, holding out your entire arm to him with the blanket on the edge of your fingers.

He thanked you and wrapped it around himself before sitting on the edge of your bed, eyes never leaving you despite your attempt to steer clear of his gaze. You left the room and went to the kitchen. You wanted to postpone this conversation by all means. If that meant making yourself some hot chocolate with some extra for the asshole that was shivering in your room then so be it.

When you came back and handed him the mug, no whipped cream or marshmallows, he chuckled at you. Yours was piled high with the extras, even the small pink marshmallows that you fawned over in the grocery store with him during the weekly grocery trip for the loft, sat on your mug.

He remembered how you justified them being an extra fifty cents because they didn’t get stale as fast. He knew it was because they were pink and thought it was adorable that you tried to win him over on the purchase. He would buy you a million pink marshmallows if it meant seeing that look of excitement take over your features.

“What do you want, Peter?” He sighed, a pained expression taking over his face at your words. “I need to explain some things to you, dove.” You sipped your drink and sat in your desk chair across from your bed and nodded, not letting yourself look at him.

“Why do you call me that?” You whispered out, finding the whipped cream and chocolate shavings much more interesting. His laugh followed your question. “Do you know the first time I met you?”

You nodded and answered. “The loft interview.” You couldn’t fight it anymore, you had to look at him. A deep sadness sat on his shoulders, face sunken like he hadn’t slept, the stubble growing quickly on his jaw.

“No. I met you at that Halloween party in college. You brought a tray of cupcakes, the only person to do anything like that, and when Logan introduced us you gave me one. You said that your secret ingredient was a small dove chocolate in the middle. You were already so drunk, you thought you were whispering it to me, but you were yelling out over the music. I never heard your name when he brought you over so I called you dove for the rest of the night,” your memory of the night flashed in front of your eyes.

You had completely forgotten about that. Logan had gotten you absolutely shiftfaced and you ended up blacking out, memory erased. You had met Peter that night.

Hurt hit you like a truck, guilt following. “Is that why you were mad at me? Because I didn’t remember?” He laughed and shook his head, leaning forward and staring into the mug.

“Dove, I fell in love with you the minute you walked in that fucking door. I couldn't care less that you didn’t remember. We all got so fucked that night, it would’ve been impossible for you to know.” A permanent shocked expression sat on your face at Peter’s words. It made even less sense than before.

“My Spider-Man responsibilities are dangerous. They have ruined my life before and I cannot let it happen again,” his eyes met yours and they were brimmed with tears, a sniffle following as he squeezed the mug in his hands.

“What happened, Peter?” You walked over to him, taking the mug from his hands and letting your fingers go into the pillowy soft locks on his head. His hands landed on your hips, head resting on your chest as he tried to speak.

“Gwen happened. I dated her in high school and I loved her, dove. She knew about Spider-Man, she was in danger because of it, and I couldn’t save her. I don’t know how it’s possible, but I think I love you even more and that was the last thing I wanted to happen. I thought that if I put some distance between us, and didn't let you get close to me, that you would be safe. I can’t let anything happen to you. I need you safe.”

He was crying as your thumbs brushed under his eyes as he spoke. “I’m sorry about everything I have said to you. You are not just a fucking lay to me and when you said that Lily wanted to set you up it was like me opening myself up to more had been a mistake because you don’t feel the same. You are everything. I tried to hate you and tried to not care about you, but it didn’t work. I love you and I want to love you, but I’m so scared.” You gave him a soft smile and a wet laugh, tears falling to match his.

“Peter. That’s not how it works. I am so sorry about Gwen. I can’t even imagine what you went through and going through it so young is horrible. But you can’t protect me from everything. I’m a grown woman who has to take care of herself. Me knowing what you do and who you are doesn’t put me in any more danger and if it does I know what you’re capable of, Peter. I know you will be able to save me again.” You gigged at the end, hands playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“And I love you too. I do,” his smile grew at your words, pulling you in between his legs even further and connecting your lips.

As he laid back on the bed, taking you with him, you let him deepen the kiss, but pulled back, straddling his waist. “We’re going to have to sign a new loft agreement.” He nodded his head, hand cupping the back of your neck and bending you back over to meet him. “We’ll deal with it in the morning.”

“Please don’t make me save you again, dove. It was terrifying seeing your dorm building on fire and knowing you were still in there. Can I have more cookies too? I burn a lot of calories on patrol nights,” You nodded eagerly, lips trailing down his neck, your breathing picking up.

“I’ll bake you all the cookies you want. I use dove chocolate on those, too,” you whispered out, sitting up from him, hands resting on his chest, “My secret ingredient actually isn’t that though. It’s love,” you batted your eyelashes at him in an over dramatic way. His laugh echoed in the room at the cheesy comment, before wrapping his arms around you and crushing you to his chest.

“That’s what it is. Keep putting that in, ‘kay?” You nodded, letting him kiss you slow and deep, heart doing somersaults at his words. Peter loved you and you couldn’t wait to find out everything you could about what made him, him.

#ficthots #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #tasm peter parker #tasm peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #andrewgarfield!spiderman #andrewgarfield!peter parker x reader #tasm fanfiction #peter parker andrew garfield #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm!peter fanfiction #tasm!smut #peter parker x reader smut #tasm!peter smut #tasm!peter x reader smut

2K notes · View notes

simmerandwrite · 1 year

Text

Sink Into Me - 02 - mob!Steve Rogers x plus size! reader

Pairing: mob boss!Steve Rogers x plus size female reader

Summary: You were simply doing a good deed, pulling the handsome stranger out of the way when a car jumped the curb. Little did you know that the life you saved belonged to Steve Rogers, the Army veteran turned art dealer with connections to the Brooklyn crime syndicate.

Steve Rogers, who won’t stop calling you his guardian angel.

Steve Rogers, whose new goal in life just might be repaying his debt to you.

Steve Rogers, who isn’t shy until it comes to his feelings and will stop at nothing to keep you safe.

Chapters: 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08

Wordcount: 6k

Warnings: canon level violence (series), body image issues (series), very brief mentions of animal abuse

Notes: hello! meet your friends - Maria Hill, Claire Temple and Wanda Maximoff. thank you all for being here and reading!! I appreciate your enthusiasm soooo much. things are :) about to get :) complicated :) if you see me out in the wild, my main blog is @simmerandcry

---

The skyline view from the floor to ceiling windows had been the real selling point to Steve taking the penthouse apartment at his latest investment property. Truthfully, he had been growing tired of the brick walls of his old place, despite their aesthetic charm. The new renters could live with that red dust now.

But the view into both Brooklyn and downtown towards Manhattan made him feel like he was exactly where he needed to be. Like he was on top of the world, his own little empire carved out in the heart of the borough. Most importantly, his apartment was his home. And that meant work didn’t come home with him, ever.

He drew that line very cleanly, even leaving the second bedroom fully intact as a guest room instead of converting to an office. Because this is where he needed to clear his head, to be Steve Rogers, the plain and simple Brooklyn born boy who loved his city.

Steve Rogers, the war veteran turned real estate mogul and art dealer, who sat at the top of what remained of an old Irish crime syndicate - that man worked on the streets, in the office, in his clubs and galleries and restaurants. That shit was not supposed to come home with him.

Though recently, it seemed to have started to bleed into what little time he spent at home. Mainly because of you and the whole incident outside the restaurant.

“Well, what’s the plan?”

“I already told you, Buck. I’m not retaliating.”

Bucky Barnes, Steve’s right hand man, his oldest friend and main confidant, the literal fist and brawn behind their organization, scoffed. “Someone sent an amateur barrelling into our territory to try and pin you between the hood of a car and your new restaurant - and you don’t want to retaliate? We coulda been weeping over your body right now, Steve.”

“I can recognize an act of aggression when I see it, I’m not an idiot.” Steve tipped his rocks glass against his lips once more, the scent of scotch lingering as he stood from the couch. “We don’t know if it was Rumlow or that new idiot creeping in from Staten Island.”

Steve rolled his eyes and cut off Bucky before he tried to add in his two cents again. “And if someone wanted to kill me, they wouldn’t hit me with a car. You know what. This was some stupid message that was poorly planned and equally poorly executed.”

Sam Wilson, who had been sipping his own concoction from the kitchen table, finally looked up from his phone and piped in. “I mean, I hate to admit it but Bucky is right. You would have been dead if it wasn’t for that beautiful woman saving your ass.”

“Sam.” Steve turned his head, eyes narrowed in a pointed glare.

“What? I’m not blind. The hips on her were-”

Steve took another step towards his friend and trusted colleague, who had a particularly loud mouth and a flair for getting on Steve’s nerves, and held up a steady hand. “Stop.”

He wasn’t inclined to admit it, but the entire thing had been replaying in Steve’s minds for days now. Ever since you had saved him on that sidewalk, throwing yourself into a dangerous situation for him, a total stranger, something had changed. He was still living, breathing, surviving. And although he was dead set on figuring out just who was driving that vehicle and ensuring they paid for their actions, it was you he couldn’t stop thinking about.

You. Who had been in the right place at the right time, who had risked your own personal safety to make sure he didn’t get hit, who was insistent that it had been an act of good faith, a simple act of kindness.

You, with the kind smile and generous curves. You, who swept off your actions as innocent and selfless, concerned more about the happiness of your dog than your own well being. You, who left Steve feeling curious and longing to get to know you, to make you smile, to hear you laugh.

God, what he wouldn’t give to have someone like you in his life. While he couldn’t stop thinking about the kind of person you were, he also had your face playing over and over again in his mind too. It didn’t help that his mom called him a few days ago, asking how you were doing and reiterating how much she enjoyed talking to you and…

“Still no news from Hammond?”

Steve knew Bucky couldn’t help but prodding, as if his fingers were itching to find a quick, efficient solution.

“He said their tech department is behind. I’m inclined to believe him but my insisting this is a priority hasn’t been successful this time. I’m trying to play nice.” Steve gritted his teeth, finishing the last sip of his drink as he stood, tugging on the lapel of his suit. “So I asked Stark to help instead. We’re meeting him at the club.”

---

The only good thing about your dreadful basement apartment was the private patio space in the backyard. You had high hopes for it when you rented the garden level unit but once your lease had been signed, everything about the place seemed a lot less shiny. From the shared laundry with the loud, obnoxious upstairs apartment to the inconsistent water pressure and flickering lights, you were counting down the days until your lease was over.

But the backyard - you had done what you could to make it a safe oasis for you and Hercules, with a few pieces of thrifted outdoor furniture and string lights making it a bit more magical. It was a nice location when hosting your girlfriends, especially when such a thing happened so rarely now that your schedules seemed to conflict all the time.

You were so grateful to have your girls. Because at any moment, they all loved to share their opinions on the weird chaos that seemed to stir up in your life. While you had known Maria since college, you had collected Wanda and Claire into your life since starting your new job in the city. You had worked as a server at the same restaurant as Wanda a few summers ago and Claire, an ER nurse, had dropped into your life by chance one night when you were stood up on a date at a bar in Hell’s Kitchen. Your group had been solid since then - although girls nights were few and far between now, with jobs and the general grind of life making it hard to get together often.

“I’m not saying the man isn’t attractive. Because I have eyes,” Maria was on her third glass of sangria, legs extended out on the brick patio outside. “I just have no reason to trust him.” She squinted down at her phone screen. “What did he say he did for work again?”

You sighed. Perhaps it was a mistake to share Steve’s name and photo - that you found after an extensive internet search - with your friends, but you valued their perspectives. It’s not like anything had happened with the guy. You hadn’t seen him since that day you saved his life and hadn’t communicated either, outside of you emailing him the stupid photo you took.

You had added his number to your phone, though. Just in case. Just in case what? You had no clue. But he had written it down for you and all.

And he said he owed you a thousand favours…

Officer Hammond, though, had reached out to you a few days after the event - asking you to come in and try and ID the driver in a police lineup. It made you feel a bit uncomfortable but you supposed it was your civic duty to do it, if it could help stop this from happening again or to help in delivering justice for wrongdoing. You pointed out the person you best recognized from your blurry memory and moved on, trying not to think any further about the situation.

Although a few strange things seemed to happen since then, if you just used your head it could all be justified. Like seeing the same black, unfamiliar SUV on your street multiple times this week. That was probably just a new vehicle belonging to one of your neighbours.

And that one time you were walking Hercules and a stranger who seemed to be lingering outside your apartment asked to borrow your phone.

Which you promptly said no to, because you aren’t dumb enough to let someone run off with your phone. But instead of going inside with Herc, you continued to circle the block until the blond stranger disappeared. You wouldn’t consider your neighbourhood the safest place after dark, but in the daytime you never felt concerned.

It was all just sort of weird.

But completely unrelated to anything else, you were sure.

That was all behind you now anyway, a strange footnote in the chapter of your life that was playing out. You’d probably never have to see Steve again, though he had crossed your mind a few times…

Okay, you had been thinking about him a lot. Which is why you had told your three closest friends about everything that had occurred.

You replied to Maria, who was nudging you with her elbow. “Oh. Uhm, he works in real estate, I think. He owns an art gallery and some apartments. Oh, and that club on Morgan Ave - Shield .”

“Sounds like a professional landlord. Thumbs down.” Claire chimed in from her chair too, shaking her head and dismissing the entire concept of Steve with a wave of her hand. “Rich at best, financially questionable at worst.”

“And he owns that restaurant the car smashed into?” Maria reached for her own phone. “The one owned by the mob. Okay, that settles it - he’s in the mob then.”

You laughed and shook your head. “The mob isn’t a thing, Hill. What’s your source on that again?”

Wanda shrugged and finally chimed in, fingers tapping idly against her wine glass as she turned towards you. “Describe his aura to me.”

You groaned, smirking as Claire rolled her eyes with a heavy sigh. “His aura?”

“You know, what kind of energy did he have?”

“Is that your way of determining the kind of person he is?” Maria got up from her chair to toss a small toy for Hercules to chase after. “I’d love to know the science between your aura theories, Wan.”

You delayed answering by grabbing the nearby bowl of popcorn and cradling it in your lap, leaving your phone and the thought of Steve on the small crate that sat between you and your friends. “He was very confident.” How could you do any justice to Steve’s intimidating Big Dick Energy without admitting your attraction to him? That last thing you wanted to do was bait your friends with any material to tease you with. Plus, really, it didn’t matter. You had no plans to ever see Steve again. And AND and, even if you did, what made you think it would be romantic in any way?

Steve was beyond hot - from the trimmed beard and deep blue eyes, to his easy charm and well dressed body. You had no doubt in your mind that the man probably had some equally hot partner. If not, he could have his pick of the entire city. There was no way you would be on his radar.

“I don’t know,” Maria chimed in once more, clapping her hands quickly. “This is the wildest meet cute story I’ve ever heard. If the man is so willing to do you some favours, maybe you should cash in on it, mob be damned. You know what they say about tall guys..”

“You just said you don’t trust him!” You laughed, tossing a piece of popcorn at her.

Maria just scooped it up and popped it into her mouth with a shrug. “I don’t trust any man. I trust you and your judge of character, though. Plus, you haven’t been on a date in forever so maybe this was some sort of fate driven happenstance.”

“The universe does work in weird ways,” Wanda agreed. “And you said he really filled out that suit so…”

“You should text him!” Claire sat up tall and straight, pushing her hair over one shoulder as an idea formulated in her brain. You were nervous. “I think how he reacts to a sudden text will be a perfect test.”

“It’s a Saturday night, I can’t text him! And a test of what? All I did was save the man’s life, there is nothing else to..” This was not how you wanted this to go. The last logical thing you could think of doing right now was messaging Steve Rogers anything. What would he think if you texted him out of nowhere on a Saturday night? “What would I even say?”

“Here, allow me.” Maria plucked your phone off the table and damnit, why did you ever tell her your passcode?

“Maria-”

“It’ll be harmless, I promise!” She glanced up from your phone and opened her eyes wide. “You need to stop playing safe. What’s the worst that could happen? He doesn’t reply?”

You sighed. YES. The fear of rejection crept up like a weird pain in your chest. “Yeah, I guess. He might think it’s a wrong number or some sort of spam message...”

“Then no harm, no foul.” Her grin grew even wider as she typed something out on the screen. She took a deep breath. You leaned over to see what she had crafted together and sighed. “It’s just a simple little push..”

---

Normally Steve would ignore then block an unfamiliar phone number, but this had been intriguing. Given that you hadn’t reached out to him at all, he had tried not to give much of his time to thinking about you. But when the text came in, without a lot of context or forewarning, he figured it was a small gamble to see how it could play out.

Unknown number [10:47PM]: hey, I need to cash in a favour S Rogers [10:49PM]: who is this? Unknown number [10:51PM]: 👀 🍑 🎁 🔄 🥞 S Rogers [10:55PM]: am I supposed to just guess what this means? Unknown number [10:59PM]: yes ;) S Rogers [11:02P:M]: it’ll be easier if you just tell me what you want, angel ;)

You hadn’t struck Steve as the type to flirt like this. If it was you, of course. He could really only safely assume, considering only a certain number of people had his phone number. And now, he finally had yours.

Tony had consolidated all the info he could find about you earlier that week. Steve didn’t feel great about asking Tony to dig into you, but since he had sent your picture for analysis after the delay at the police station, it sort of just happened. Frankly, Tony said your online presence was minimal. You were smart about keeping your social media secure and had a very thorough CV on LinkedIn. Otherwise, he didn’t have much information that you hadn’t already shared. And Steve had no intentions of doing anything suspicious with any of it, it just helped him understand who he had invited into a small corner of his life.

If that’s what he could call it. But you had crossed his mind over and over, and it didn’t help that Bucky kept bringing you up. Especially the part about Steve taking you to the clinic for help from Sarah. That resource was a well kept secret in their family and the fact that Steve took you there had been a big risk.

Beyond Steve’s unavoidable racing thoughts about you, he had been deep into a plan to deal with the actual problem - the group of idiots spilling into his Brooklyn territory. Tony had helped him with that too, finding names and dossiers on everyone who belonged to Rumlow’s extended Stryke gang causing a mess in the boroughs between Queens and Brooklyn.

For years, Steve had worked hard to make a respectable reputation for himself and now things were getting shaky. And it annoyed the shit out of him, especially when a few of the names Tony pulled were on the NYPD payroll.

“It’s messy,” Tony had said with a shrug, leaning back into the leather seat from their place at the top of the club.

Another property on Steve’s growing list - Shield was a popular nightclub in Brooklyn, which served as a perfect location for arms deals and financial transactions to float. For Steve and his old friend, tech mogul Tony Stark, it was a safe place to share theories and secrets. The upper level served as a secure hideout from the general population while the downstairs dance floor catered to obnoxious crowds looking for a drink or something else to roll on.

It was lucrative for Steve, to say the least.

“Let me know if you want me to get Rhodes involved.”

Steve shook his head. “He’s got enough on his plate. Is he ready for the campaign announcement?” Steve had a serious interest in the upcoming Mayoral election, especially if James Rhodes, former DA, planned on running. And with Tony bankrolling the campaign and some additional under the table support from Steve, it was going to be a shoe in.

“Oh, we’re just getting started, big guy,” Tony stood up and patted Steve on the shoulder as he left the corner area, flitting off in search of whoever might be going home with him soon enough.

Usually that would be Steve’s next step too, but damnit, if he couldn’t stop glancing at his phone for a response from you. Maybe calling you ‘angel’ again had been out of line. He contemplated sending another message, but no, he had to wait. He knew how to play this game.

The rest of the night carried on, with certain reports popping in with updates for Steve on what was happening out on the streets. Things like confirmed shipments at the dock and successful cash pickups. He had eyes across the whole of Brooklyn, with his growing syndicate working beneath him. Things mostly operated smoothly and this night was carrying on as normal.

Bucky showed up eventually, grumbling about getting turned down by some smart mouthed girl outside the club. Sam corroborated the story, lauding the woman and her tone.

Steve checked his phone, again.

“I saw Sharon downstairs,” Sam nudged Steve, eyebrows raised curiously. “Unless you’re off again-”

“We’re permanently off-again,” Steve rolled his eyes. “You have my blessing if you want to pursue, Sam. But good luck, don’t say I didn’t warn you..” That was all Sam needed apparently, finishing off his glass and heading back down to the dance floor below. Steve didn’t miss his cheeky grin.

“You’re thinking about that girl again, huh?” Bucky nodded and tried to hide his mischievous smirk as he scanned Steve’s face.

Steve scoffed. “No, no. I’m not..”

Bucky laughed, hard and incredulous. “I haven’t seen your head in the clouds like this in ages. Since whatsername in high school, maybe. What was her name?”

Then as if by some weird shift in the universe, Steve’s phone started to buzz. He left Bucky’s commentary lingering as he looked at the screen. You.

Ah, no text reply but a phone call? Okay, he could get on board. Standing, he headed a few steps from the lounge and brought his phone up to his ear, with a small smile. “Rogers.”

The first thing he heard was your frightened yelling. “Leave me alone! Jesus - oh my god, Steve? Is this Steve?”

He said your name quickly to confirm who he was speaking too but raised his eyebrows in concern. “What’s going on?”

“Someone is trying to - HEY! Stop -” Steve could hear banging in the background. “--trying to break into my fuckin - I’m going to CALL THE COPS! Leave me alone! Please, just..”

Steve closed his eyes, doing his best to focus on the background noise. Behind your defensive yelling and the attentive reactions of your dog, there was a mixture of other voices. Something about the voices felt familiar.

“We just want to talk.. Did someone offer you something for that statement? Was it Rogers?”

“If you tell Hammond you got the wrong guy, this will all be over very quickly, honey.”

“Walker, move, let me – Open the door, or we’ll open it for you. Let’s talk..”

“He didn’t offer me - Stop, please! I swear I -”

Steve nearly crushed his phone when the call dropped. He was off like a bullet train, shouting for Bucky to follow him as he pushed past his security guards on the stairs and rushed down towards the back exit of the club. He tried to call you back as he sped through traffic, blatantly bypassing stop signs and treating red lights like suggestions.

A heavy twisting feeling in Steve’s gut had told him that the aftermath of this entire situation wasn’t going to go smoothly. Especially with dumbass dirty cops on the inside who could share information to the highest bidder.

Steve felt a new responsibility to keep you safe, until this whole mess had been taken care of. He had plans to deal with it all on his own but now, if he hadn’t acted quickly enough and something had happened to you.. God, he couldn’t live with himself. How could he explain that to his mother?

He got to your apartment first, hoping Bucky was close behind. Steve didn’t know what he might be walking into but having backup was never a bad idea.

Steve had not only visited but had also lived in a lot of seedy neighbourhoods over the years. The street you lived on didn’t strike him as anything especially dangerous, but that thought enough couldn’t squash the unsettled feeling in his stomach as he approached. He pushed his way through the small metal gate beside the front stairs, towards the door to your garden level apartment.

His jaw clenched when he saw the damage to your door, clearly kicked in with plenty of force before being shoved closed. He glanced to the front window, nearby - that had been smashed, too. He tried to contain the growing fury and pressed on the door, calling out your name as he made his way inside.

As someone more than familiar with the real estate market, Steve could tell the bones of your apartment weren’t in the best shape. The entire townhouse was in desperate need of updating. But what concerned him more, outside of the low ceiling and old light fixtures, was what he could only assume was a new mess. Your coffee table had been smashed, creating a pile of kindling in your tiny living room. Papers were thrown about, a coffee cup sat shattered on the floor.

He called your name again as he went in, reaching inside his jacket to pull out his concealed handgun as he listened carefully. Once he stepped into the hallway leading to your tiny kitchen, he took a step back at the sudden lurch of your dog heading in his direction.

Then Steve heard your quiet voice. The dog retreated into the kitchen, planting himself in front of you as Steve turned to look in. His heart sank.

You were seated on the floor, back pressed against the wall. It was clear you were trying to hide, make yourself small. And was that… some sort of steak knife in your hand? When you finally looked up at him, your eyes were wide.

When you tried to press yourself even further back, eyeing down the gun in Steve’s hand, he slowly put it down on the counter and said your name. “Hey, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. That was just a precaution.” Shit. The way you reacted to the gun wasn’t a surprise but it made Steve even angrier. Whoever had been here, whoever had done this, well, they probably had guns too.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Steve crouched down, keeping his distance while Hercules acted as your bodyguard. He was trying everything in his power to maintain his composure but god fucking damnit, Steve needed to know who did this and he needed to deal with it. “Are you hurt?”

You took in a deep breath then just shrugged, relaxing just a fraction when Hercules circled around and flopped down to rest his head on your knee. “There were two guys, they had.. They had guns with them. They said they just wanted to talk to me, to … they kept talking about whoever the guy was who drove that SUV.” Your breath picked up as you recounted what had happened. “They..they smashed my phone and..” Slowly, you moved your hand up towards your neck, gently dragging your fingers against the tender skin on your collarbone. “..One guy he..” You winced at the memory.

The heat grew more and more in his stomach as he saw you shaking with fear, recounting whatever the fuck had just happened. How dare any of those fucking imbeciles lay their hand on you? And because of him? If he wasn’t sure of his next steps before, he was going to figure them out now. Because someone needed to pay for this.

His phone buzzed. He stood up and saw a message from Bucky, wondering if Steve needed his help inside. Steve took a step back, turning towards the front door.

“Don’t go,” you pleaded quietly, letting your hand linger in the air as you reached for him. “Steve, please..”

Steve stopped and turned back to you, giving his head a firm shake. “Sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere.”

---

A few hours ago you were saying goodbye to your friends as your sangria pitcher finally ran dry. And now? You and Hercules were in an elevator with Steve and his friend Bucky, heading to Steve’s apartment.

Everything that had just happened felt like a bit of a dream - a bad dream. A break in at your own apartment, being intimidated, harassed and assaulted by men with guns, zipping through Brooklyn with Steve as he promised you a safe space to stay for the night.

You didn’t say much to each other once you had left, but you could see the twist of concern and small decisions Steve started to make to ensure you felt secure. A hand at your back, a soft smile, extra attention being given to Hercules to make sure he was okay, too.

You hadn’t gotten into much detail yet but you knew Steve wanted to figure out who the men were who had done this. You were already dreading talking about it again. And god, you likely had another police experience coming your way. What was happening in your life and how could it go back to normal again?

“Hey,” Steve tipped his head towards the door as the elevator opened. You took the lead as you stepped out into the hallway, where just a small handful of apartment doors were spread out.

Steve’s building was a place you could only daydream about living in. You followed him through the door to his apartment, checking over your shoulder to see Bucky guiding Hercules behind you.

Bucky was incredibly kind to you throughout this whole thing, especially back at your apartment. He had patiently directed you as Steve made some phone calls, carefully standing outside your room as you packed a quick overnight bag. And he was very taken to Hercules, which you really appreciated.

Once inside Steve’s place, you made your way into the living room just past the foyer. Steve and Bucky moved into the kitchen briefly, exchanging a few hushed sentences out of your earshot.

When they joined you in the living room, they found you crouched down on the floor with Hercules. You tipped your head up to look at them. Bucky’s gaze was on his phone but Steve was watching you with a soft smile.

“Do you think he’ll be okay here tonight?” Steve took a knee on the other side of Hercules, slowly reaching his hand out to scratch behind his ear.

You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling, just a bit, as you nodded. “Yeah, he’s pretty easy going usually.” As if on cue, your dog nudged his head against Steve’s hand for one more quick pet then trotted further into the living room, flopping down on the rug between the couch and windows. “All his adrenaline seems to have worn off.”

And so it seemed had yours.

A few minutes later you were sitting on the couch, with Steve planted in the chair across from you and Bucky standing over his shoulder, arms crossed. Steve leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he took you in.

God, even in the low light of his living room, the man was handsome. Wearing just a navy blazer and matching dress pants, over a black button up with no tie, he managed to look effortlessly intimidating and strangely welcoming. Like you had no reason not to trust him, as if the dark shadows behind his eyes were a sign of protection instead of a signal of something to be feared.

You took in a long breath and leaned back into the couch.

Steve dragged his tongue over his lips then let out a sharp breath. “Okay, so I need you to walk me through exactly what happened.”

You knew this was coming. The moment Steve insisted on not calling the cops, something shifted for you. This whole situation had escalated beyond what you were used to, that whomever these men were to Steve - it probably wasn’t good.

But when you looked over at Steve, as much as you wanted to shake with worry about what might happen next, you couldn’t. Despite being way out of your comfort zone, scared out of your mind, coming down from your own rush of adrenaline, you weren’t scared. Not anymore, not in his presence and under the additional watchful eye of his right hand man.

And so you told him and Bucky exactly what had happened. How your girlfriends had left, how you were finding the next episode of your favourite show to watch, how you had some writing to catch up on and planned on staying up late. Then you heard a noise outside, then a knock at your door.

Then… well, then you had called Steve when everything started unfolding.

And after the men managed to get beyond the door and push their way through to you, you had nowhere to hide. Once they smashed your phone, you were going to comply and do whatever they needed to, to get them out of your home but then one of them threatened Hercules, and even kicked him-

“Jesus,” Bucky muttered, teeth clenched. Before he could get his true feelings out, Steve held up his hand and had you continue.

“I shoved the guy who was closest to me, trying to go for the other idiot before he hurt Herc and then..” You closed your eyes, going into vague details about how the man pushed you back, how he shoved you into the wall, the kitchen counter. How he pulled out his gun and put his hand around your throat and..

When you opened your eyes again, taking in the silence of the room as you trailed off, Steve was watching you carefully. Though you safely assumed he was an expert at hiding his emotions, you could see a twitch in his jaw. His fists rested on his knees, clenched and turning white with tension.

“One of them got a phone call and I guess they were beckoned to leave. They had enough time to make more of a mess while I cowered away but..” You gulped, shaking your head. “What if they come back? I think I should just call Officer Hammond and-”

“No.” Steve stood up, taking barely a stride to make his way towards the couch. He took a seat beside you, extending his hand to ever so gently cradle your jaw, turning your head to look at him. He said your name softly, barely.. “I’m going to take care of this.”

Your safe feeling was depleting and as much as you wanted to argue, to put a stop to all of this, to do it the correct way, you couldn’t. Earlier, when the threat was outside your door, you didn’t think of calling the police. It was Steve who had crossed your mind. For some unknown reason, you had a feeling he would help you.

Steve pulled his hand away and stood again, shooting a glance to his friend.

Bucky cleared his throat, taking a step forward. “Doll, can you tell me what the guys looked like? Identifying features?”

You wanted to ask a thousand questions about what happened now, about what Bucky was planning on doing, about his metal arm and lack of hesitation to help Steve. But you just played along, delivering all the details you could. Once you repeated it all and answered a few of his questions, you sat up and leaned forward. “Oh. One of them went by Walker. I’m not sure if that’s a first name or..”

“Last name.” Bucky gave one nod before muttering out a tired laugh. “That fucking moron.” He looked at Steve. “Okay, I know where to go. Nat’s gonna meet me downstairs.”

Steve followed him to the door and you could hear their quiet conversation once more.

Twisting your hands together, you sat on the couch with your thoughts. You couldn’t believe how your night had played out. Really, if you thought about the last week of your life you’d be hard pressed to believe it was real life. How could the simple act of getting a person out of harm’s way lead to this?

When you heard Steve’s footsteps heading back towards you, after the door shut behind Bucky, you stood up and looked at him.

Okay, you had to ask. Because a lot of this felt nonsensical, impossible even.

“You don’t really work in real estate, do you?” With the most courage you could muster you met his gaze, which was stoic as he watched you. “My friend Maria had this crazy theory and.. I don’t know what I’ve gotten myself into here, Steve. But this isn’t… I just did the right thing and saved you from being hit by a car and.. Now what? People with guns are breaking into my home and threatening my dog? And instead of going to the police.. I’m right here in your apartment - with you, a kind, handsome stranger who keeps offering to help and take care of me and I just don’t get it. Is this real?”

He didn’t falter or let his facade break when you spiraled. Instead, he motioned towards his kitchen. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

You sat with a steaming mug of chamomile at Steve’s kitchen island. His kitchen felt impressively Steve somehow too, with dark granite counters and cool grey tones decorating the tall cabinets. The light blue kettle that sat on his stove somehow humanized him even more though.

Steve opted to lean against the counter, shrugging off his suit jacket as he met your eyes. “So. First, let me just say - I don’t want you to feel like I brought you here for any other reason than keeping you safe tonight. I want you to feel safe here, with me. But if you don’t feel comfortable, you can leave. I will put you up in a hotel somewhere or if you have a friend you can stay with-”

You swallowed hard and brought your hand up. “No, that’s not.. I’m sorry for, uhm, going off a bit there. I just..” You left your mug on the island and leaned forward, balancing your chin on your hand while your elbow propped you up. You matched his gaze, somehow both honest and shy. “In college, my friends and I did this thing called honesty hour. Usually after a really late night or when we were a bit drunk. But the point is to be as honest as possible, but gentle, I guess. Feelings were always at risk but if it was after 2am, it was honesty only.”

A small smirk tugged at Steve’s lips as he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. “Okay.”

“So. Honesty hour.” You nodded.

“What do you want to know?”

“Do you always carry a gun?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“There are often dangerous, poorly- intentioned people in my line of work.”

You narrowed your eyes, pausing to take a small sip from your mug. “Your line of work - in real estate and art gallery ownership?”

Steve let out a quiet laugh. “The scope of my day to day work goes well beyond that.”

God, you had so many other questions but you had a feeling Steve was not going to share any details with you. Maybe it was better that way for both of you. Because answering some of your questions might ruin everything. “Would you rather I not ask about that? Your.. full scope?”

“I don’t think it qualifies for your honesty hour, no.”

You were ready to counter with something but you figured it wasn’t worth pushing his buttons. After another big breath, you closed your eyes. “Do you think those guys are going to show up again? At my apartment?”

The mug that had been resting in Steve’s hand found a careful spot on the counter. He took a big step forward and leaned onto the island opposite you.

Your name left his lips. You opened your eyes.

“I promise they won’t.” It was clear some things were being left unsaid, hidden behind his reassuring smile. His hand landed on yours as it rested on the table. “Trust me when I say I’ll never let that sort of thing happen again.” You looked from him, focusing on the warmth in his eyes and how his palm felt against your skin and…

“My turn.” Steve ran his thumb over the top of your hand, as if searching for the softest spot. “You called me. How come?”

You had never been so grateful to hear someone’s phone ring, because you did not want to answer that question. He tried to ignore it but the buzzing in his pocket filled in the quiet that lingered between you. Just like that, whatever that moment was or could have been - vanished. He gave you an apologetic glance as he stepped away.

You sipped on your tea, feeling more and more run down by this whole situation. You were tired, finally and Steve’s big sweeping statements gave you some peace of mind. You trusted him, that was the only thing you were certain about.

Despite everything, including the silly rumours from Maria and the broken remains of your apartment on the other side of Brooklyn… There was something about Steve that made you feel okay about all of this.

But the thought of talking any more about it now made your thoughts spiral out of control. Truthfully, you needed to sleep. And you really needed to talk all of this through in the group chat with the girls. You desperately wished your phone was still functioning.

Before you could even let your train of thoughts derail, you heard Hercules’ feet tapping against the floors in search of you. You took one final sip of your tea and met him in the living room. Your boy was ready for bed too.

You hesitated though, glancing from him to the door. He looked that way too. Maybe it would be smart to take him out one more time before you headed to bed.

Steve found you near the door and reached his hand out to stop you before you could even grab your coat. “Hey. I can take him out, if you want to get ready for bed.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Please, I insist.” He grabbed Hercules’ leash from the small entry table and rested his hand on your shoulder. “I’ve been thinking about adopting a dog for months now so this is a nice reminder about responsibilities.”

Steve’s genuine smile was unmatched and, well, Hercules just looked excited for one last moment of fresh air. “Okay, fine. For your own research purposes. Thanks Steve.”

He waved his hand and pulled on a coat from the hanging rack. “The guest room is just down there.” With his free hand he pointed down the hall behind you. “First door on the right. Bathroom across the hall.”

The minute Steve was outside the door with Hercules, you made your way to the bedroom. You nearly gasped when you opened the door, considering the space was practically the same size as your entire apartment. And god, the view from the windows. A full floor to ceiling piece of glass illuminated Brooklyn below.

The bathroom was just as impressive. After finding a fluffy towel and figuring out how the shower and faucet functioned, you let yourself get consumed by the water. Though you felt far past your breaking point, you held back your tears. Yes, the entire night behind you had been a rollercoaster. And yes, you were nervous about what tomorrow was going to bring.

But you were safe. That’s all that mattered.

Chapter 01 - Chapter 03

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x plus size reader #mob boss steve rogers #stever rogers fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #plus size reader #stever rogers x plus sized reader #mob boss stever rogers x reader #simmerandcry #simmerandwrite #simmer writes #story: sink into me

637 notes · View notes

ask-the-nine-links · 1 year

Note

What's y'alls favorite weapon other than the sword?

Hyrule: My magic!

Legend: Also magic but like the rods and stuff.

Sky: I find the whip to be very useful!

Wild: Bombs.

Twilight: Wild.

Wild: ... or a soup ladle!

Twilight:

Twilight: Good enough. I like my Gale Boomerang or th’ Dominion Rod.

Four: Still prefer swords over anything, but the bow is very helpful!

Wind: BOMBS!!

Twilight: Wind.

Wind: ... still like bombs. Or my hammer.

Warriors: Spinner and Legend’s fire rod my beloved.

Legend: I still need that back plus the renter’s fee

Warriors: I’m sorry the what now.

Time: Bottle.

The Chain:

#lu hyrule #linked universe #lu legend #lu sky #lu wild #lu twilight #lu four #lu wind #lu warriors #lu time #so many tags so little time #i misspelled all of them at leas once #linkeduniverse

333 notes · View notes

hometoursandotherstuff · 2 years

Photo

Look at this 1906 beauty in Detroit, Michigan. Listed for $1.2M. It’s an elegant Romanesque Revival designed by famed architect Louis Kamper and may be the most unique residential masterpiece in the City.

This home has been impeccably cared-for. What an entrance.

Look at the fireplace and decorated coffered ceiling.

Incredible details of the fireplace.

Isn’t this beautiful? The architectural details are amazing.

Magnificent dining room.

I don’t know if this is a scullery or the original kitchen, but it’s incredible. Look at the cabinets!

Then, this is the kitchen. Well, at least the wood matches.

In here is an incredible original sink and just look at that ice box! I’m losing my mind in this house!

Nice powder room.

Look at the wood on these stairs!

This game room- superb wood and fireplace.

The elegance of this room!

How phenomenal is this architecture?

Intricately carved railing on the landing.

The large home has 7 bds. & 7 baths.

A little library.

Such bright rooms, too.

Plus, it has a finished attic.

Then, check out the carriage house.

Perfectly lovely home for a renter or whoever.

And, if that isn’t enough, the garden is stunning. I would buy this in a New York minute. It’s worth much more than $1.2M and Detroit is undergoing a wonderful revitalization.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/1089-Iroquois-St-Detroit-MI-48214/88390382_zpid/

#detroit mansion #historic homes #romanesque architecture #old house dreams #long post

297 notes · View notes

officialyourdailyinspiration · 1 year

Text

Rent prices are pretty insane in Fresno atm. Just out of curiosity I was scrolling a few sites and I was seeing rents upward of $1200 for studio apartments, $1500 for 1-bedrooms, $1750 for 2 bedrooms and $2k plus for 3 bedroom apartments. $800 and $900 for single rooms with kitchen and bathroom access in people’s homes. Not in good neighborhoods, either. In high crime areas. Most of these places also had a requirement that renters make 3x the monthly rent to even be considered. No wonder homelessness is exploding in Fresno (and throughout the entire Central Valley here in California). I truly thank God for His blessing and provision. I don't think Jake and I could make it in this day if we didn't have our home. I'm disabled and he only makes minimum right now as low man on the totem pole at a super market (a new job). We have a little saved but not that much! Lord have mercy.

18 notes · View notes

sanstropfremir · 4 months

Note

Hey D, how are you? ✨🎥 here! It seems that I come here every 6 months 😅

Mini update of my life: went to a Little Big concert in Poland and had a great time, got a bonus raise for every film fund I got (it’s pretty impossible to get them all due to the insane competition but at least we get one or two every year), still haven’t found a nice apartment (renters are insane and ask for stupidly high prices for tiny places with kitchens from 30 years ago 💀💀💀), did a super intensive course on production and that sucked the life put of me in November (it was Thursdays to Sundays so I had 3 weeks of no free days!), and my team changed a bit, we let go of one of the additions because he couldn’t perform well on the basic tasks and hired full time a girl that worked with us before as an intern (she’s good so far)

As for the projects that I’m working on, SLOW finally released in Spain this weekend and is gonna release this year in a lot of countries (US, UK and Ireland, Indonesia, Poland…). We also have two films scheduled to start shooting by March, another on April-May and possibly a fourth one in summer. So yeah, a pretty hectic year this 2024.

How are you? Anything interesting in your life? In kpop? In theater?

hello my friend!!!!!!! has it really been six months wtf time is FLYING....... don't worry about it tho i've been busy you've been busy, adulthood is meeting your friends every few months anyways

WOW that sounds crazy....but also exciting!! would love to hear about how the course on production went! very excited to hear that slow is gonna be released soon, usually stuff gets released in canada at the same time as the us so i'll keep an eye out.

idk if that much interesting has happened....we had a crazy busy christmas at the shop; i ended up singlehandedly doing an order of eighteen 2.5' custom evergreen + eucalyptus wreaths.........in a week..................do not recommend. i'm not doing any theatre but i did FINALLY see hadestown a few months ago! fantastic spectacular groundbreaking etc etc. oh and i recently got a commission to paint a mural! had the prelim meeting this morning, i haven't painted something big since my first year of grad school when i was doing life sized cave paintings so i'm excited! my therapist has been slowly coaxing me back into doing art and i'm being very slow about it, but at least it's progress!

tbh i have not kept up with that much kpop..........i'm in the process of finishing my end of year posts still but this year was so meh that the motivation is not there (plus working full time again).........there were some really really good cbs but most of everything was so mediocre. i am hoping praying pleading that companies start getting their act together for 2024 and there's been some promising stuff already, but. it's only january 😔

#im glad your work is going well!! even if it is busy #answers #text #✨🎥 anon #i saw your other message its coming up in a sec

1 note · View note

whentherewerebicycles · 2 years

Text

he is obsessed with this massive costco bed my brother has… I just bought one for the new place and cannot WAIT to introduce it to ruthie, who adores a giant snuggly bed.

tbd if today will hold any real work! I am done with the stuff I was assigned this week but I do have two short meetings this morning so I could wind up with more stuff to do. I can tell I’m really going to be inclined to waste time on my phone today so I might try to knock out some move-related tasks. let’s see here’s a sketch of the day:

up at 6:15

short walk with Pip

6:30-7:15 coffee, email, check in with AS

7:15-8 shower and get ready

8-8:30 review slides

8:30-9 AS mtg

9-9:30 CD mtg

9:30-11 tasks as assigned but if I don’t get assigned anything:

schedule pod delivery (9-3 window)

cancel old renter’s insurance

buy new renter’s insurance

email MC

11-12 coaching session with AS

12-2 tasks as assigned or finish the stuff above or go to home depot to buy paint (natural light, roasted corn, nurturing green, sage brush, swiss coffee) plus a small paint brush. no more hemming and hawing lol I need to overcome my strange fear of actually buying paint

then I’ll go over to the house! here’s what I want to do today:

pick up walgreens poster prints (and put them in frames!)

paint swatches and let dry

deep clean hallway + front room carpet again

activate wifi

scrub bleach gel off shower walls

scrub down baseboards upstairs

lug standing desk pieces upstairs and start assembling it

measure bedroom to decide on bed + smaller bookshelf placement

ahhhhh I want work to be over so I can head over there and get started!!!!! the moving pods arrive tomorrow. I think my sister and I are going to spend friday afternoon painting the kitchen (and maybe doing light furniture assembly if the pods arrive early enough and we can get some stuff out of them ourselves). then the movers come first thing saturday morning!!! I REALLY want to be almost entirely unpacked by the end of the weekend. I think my top priority on saturday will be reassembling the furniture the austin movers took apart + putting the new couch together. I loathe furniture assembly so I am hoping to bribe my brother into helping lol. all my books will stay packed until I figure out my shelving sitch but I can definitely get clothes, kitchen stuff, etc away. I JUST WANNA BE SETTLED AAAAAAAA

8 notes · View notes

youngerdrgrey · 2 years

Text

you’re it, you’re the ultimatum au // a wildmoore fanfic, chapter 4

summary: in short, thanks to a reality dating show, Kate gave Sophie an ultimatum, and Ryan gave Angelique one, and soon enough, Ryan and Sophie will spend three weeks in an ‘accelerated’ marriage for this dating show. But first, they have to choose each other. chapter summary: As producers work overtime to try and keep Ryan on the show, Sophie starts her own side project. + read on ao3

🦇

Ryan actively ignores the knocking on the room door. She tucks the last of the hotel toiletries into a plastic baggie and slides that into the side of her suitcase. A quick pull of the zipper, and she’s done. She can leave just like this — with sweats and a flannel pulled over her bikini.

Another knock, then a very clear voice. “Hey, Ryan? It’s Iris. Can we please talk about this?” Ryan sighs. They’ve upgraded from Luke and the lower-level producers to the big guns. Iris West-Allen, the executive producer, calls out to her, “Just you and me. No cameras.”

That’s technically a lie. They have surveillance ones in each of the rooms. Supposedly with no audio, but Ryan knows better than to trust that.

“You’ve got a key, right?” Ryan returns. It’s part of why they’re in a hotel.

After a beat, the room door unlocks, but the deadbolt catches it. A swell of pride hits Ryan before she heads for the door. She unlatches the deadbolt and opens the door. “Sorry, forgot about that.”

“Force of habit,” Iris says as a way of excusing it. She motions towards the room, and Ryan steps aside to let Iris in. True to Iris’s word, there are no cameras here for the first time in days.

Ryan stays standing to keep them on equal footing. She crosses her arms, even though Iris will read into it. Mark her down as defensive, or petulant. She won’t last long if she stands there with open arms to whatever Iris has to say.

The reporter-turned-producer has a disarming quality to her. It’s what makes Iris good at her jobs. She sets people at ease so they’d spill their secrets, or invest in whichever experiment that Star Labs wanted to run.

Iris explains, “First off, Ryan, believe me, we never wanted to put you in a truly unlivable situation. We specifically selected people who could bring out something different in each other. But you don’t have to pick Sophie, or Kate, or Renee. Who you choose in the Choosing Ceremony is up to you.”

Ryan tightens her arms around herself. “I’m choosing from a loaded deck. Two Crows? Really?”

Iris shrugs a shoulder. “They were a packaged deal. All in all, it’s three weeks, and then you can be back with Angelique. Just please, take some time before making any rash decisions that could leave you right where you started.”

Lingering in limbo. Waiting for Angelique to be ready to truly turn her life around. Waiting for herself too.

Iris studies Ryan for a moment. Then, with a slow grin, she asks, “You want to get out of here?”

🦇

Make-up artists be damned, Sophie swipes at the sweat on her brow. Her neck burns where Angelique keeps glaring at her. Julia doesn’t seem too enthused about Sophie’s latest match either. But Renee radiates amusement. Plus, she’s the only one who might have answers to Sophie’s questions.

Renee nods. “Yeah, Wonderland’s taken out a bunch of people over the years. You know that.”

Sophie does know that much. “But renters specifically. You know anything about that?”

Renee eyes her with an unfocused stare. “You’ve been here a day, and you’re already working a case. And I thought I was a workaholic.” Sophie narrows her eyes, so Renee tilts her head side to side. “Fine. Yeah, we tried to keep a lid on it as best as we could. It’s still in some of the papers, but a few years back, they killed a woman and her landlord, beat the crap out of her kid. There wasn’t much we could do since we couldn’t find the specific people, or match their faces ‘cause of—“

“The masks,” Sophie finishes. Renee nods. “And when you say ‘kid?’”

“Don’t remember. But if any of these PA’s want to lend you their phone, then you can look it up. Pretty sure it was close to Christmas, maybe four or five years ago.”

Sophie thanks Renee and scans for one production assistant in particular. There’s a young one who can’t seem to keep her eyes off of Sophie for long. Nearly dropped her case of water bottles when Sophie smiled at her earlier. Easy mark.

Renee clears her throat to draw Sophie’s attention back. “When you get sick of explaining yourself, you know where to find me.”

“At the bar?” Sophie returns. Renee shrugs.

“It’s open, isn’t it?”

It is, but the thought of spending the next three weeks drinking and talking shop with Renee isn’t as appetizing as it could be. Sophie needs to get that info.

🦇

The barista at the hotel Jitters makes a big show of finishing up their drinks. Perfect swirl of whipped cream on one, and an extra spin of the iced latte with oat milk for the other. Ryan’s not sure if he’s trying to get his fifteen minutes of fame, or if he’s really that bored now that they shut down the shop for filming.

He calls out, “For Ryan!” Even though she’s watching him from a few steps away. Ryan shoots a smile his way for the cameras though. Scoops up the drinks from the pick up counter and turns back to face the tables.

Except Iris isn’t there anymore. The camera crew’s still set, but in Iris’s place is Kelly Olsen. The show’s psychologist. She’s gorgeous, generous, and welcoming, but Ryan still rolls her eyes at the sight of her.

Ryan walks over, asking along the way, “So this was a trap?” She holds out the second drink to Kelly.

Kelly takes it with an apologetic — and almost breathtaking — smile. “We all thought you’d be more comfortable talking with me, if we did it here. Somewhere casual, open. I am sorry for the trick though.” She takes a sip of her coffee. Her lips quirk. “Okay, a little less sorry with the caffeine.”

🦇

Sophie gets to the production assistant, but Julia cuts her off before she can flirt her way into some answers. Sophie groans, as Julia dismisses the P.A.

Julia narrows her eyes at Sophie. “One, you’re mic’d, okay, I am always listening. Two, and more importantly, going full Crow won’t mend this tiff with Ryan.”

Sophie’s face warms slightly at the mention. It’s still weird to be on display to someone. Even if it’s not like that, it’s not not like that. Ryan left without giving Sophie a chance to say anything.

Conscious of the cameras, Sophie says, “I don’t normally hit it off with people. But last night, Ryan and I… we clicked. And it felt good to be around someone who didn’t make me feel weird about who I am, or being on this show.” Lord knows her mom will freak out once she finds out.

Julia prompts, “When you say ‘clicked…’”

Sophie fights the urge to look away. It’ll make her seem bashful, or embarrassed. Or into it. She focuses on her mission. “If Ryan could just listen to me, then maybe we can get back on track.” She steps closer to Julia. “I saw how excited you were this morning. You wanted us to talk. Make it happen again.”

Julia’s stone face cracks a moment. It’s all the confirmation Sophie needs. Julia does want this. She wants them running off into an engagement together.

But Julie says, “If I could, I would. She has to stay on the show first. That’s not my department.”

“Whose is it?”

🦇

Kelly keeps the tone light as they talk. Nothing clinical in her questions, or the way she listens to Ryan. Kelly listens like every word Ryan says is important. Like it’s life-changing and so natural at the same time. Ryan’s had a few court-ordered therapists in her lifetime, but Kelly’s the only one to catch her like this.

Ryan says, “This whole show is a trap. It’s forcing me to spend time with people I don’t want to, so everyone else can have a good time. I’m not naive enough to think it’s all about me, but wow.”

Other therapists would say that maybe she isn’t naive; maybe she’s perceptive. Maybe she’s reacting to feeling trapped in her childhood, or by the criminal justice system. They’d tilt their heads to the side and stare through her.

Kelly stirs the whipped cream in her drink. Barely eyes Ryan as she plucks the straw up to get some off of it. “Why do you think everyone is laughing at you?”

Ryan’s heart thuds. “Because I’m on a reality show. It’s not that deep.”

Kelly swipes the whipped cream into her mouth. Plops her straw back into her drink. “So this is the first time you’ve felt this way? Like someone else is pulling the strings?”

She asks it so casually. Like they’re friends at a sleepover. Like Ryan and Ange on their separate beds, whispering while everyone else is asleep. They had to be quiet as they could, or the other kids would snap at them. Or make jokes. The jokes weren’t wrong, and they weren’t incorrect either. Angelique used to say she’d rather date Ryan than any of those bozos at their school. Ryan didn’t even know they could date. Or fall in love.

Kelly picks at the muffin that a producer dropped off. “Obviously, you’ve got producers telling you where and when to go while you’re here. That’s an example. Not to mention that you probably have some big feelings about control in your life. You have a right to be angry, that we didn’t tell you about them being here. But you should also give people a chance to disappoint you first rather than self-rejecting.”

Ryan’s grip tightens on her drink. “Don’t make this a rejection thing.” The ice sloshes since she’s damn near out of coffee. The caffeine has her heart racing. Her cheeks burning in a way that the foundation better cover from the cameras. “It’s too easy to say the foster kid has abandonment issues.”

“A lot of people have abandonment issues,” Kelly says.

Ryan turns her cup. “I’m not upset because I was abandoned. I’m upset because I spent the last day with someone who upholds a white supremacist organization.”

Kelly asks, “Can it be both?” Ryan scoffs. Kelly amends her statement. “You seemed excited about Sophie. I didn’t see the clips myself, but she embodies a lot of the qualities you said you wanted in a partner.”

“And the ones I don’t.”

“So does Angelique,” Kelly says. “I am never going to encourage you to ignore red flags, or your own discomfort. Our wounds ache because they’re still healing. You came here, I think, to heal a big one. When Angelique—“

“Kelly—“

Kelly stops. She closes her eyes a moment with a nod. “You believe in second chances, correct? You believe in the power to change and the possibility for more. On this show, you have an unimaginable platform to speak directly to our audiences. Why give up that power?”

Ryan circles her jaw. “The real power’s in the edit, you know that. They’ll cut anything that they don’t like.”

Kelly smiles with her whole face. “Then keep talking,” she urges. “They can’t edit it all. But if you don’t try, no one will ever hear you. This can go so much further than just Angelique’s hand in marriage. You—“ she takes a breath. Is she actually emotional? When she blinks, she’s composed again. But there’s still a glow in her eyes.

She says, “You can show people — Black girls and women in particular — that they can fight for the future that they want. That… that they don’t have to hide who they love, that they don’t have to settle for a secret or a subplot. We deserve it. You can help everyone feel it. This might be a silly show to some people, but to the people who need it? This could be everything.”

Now Ryan has to blink down her emotions. The giggles of the group home, the jeering of the Crows, the fights with Ange, the clink of the jelly bean jar.

She’s fought for her future before with a lot worse odds. “I choose who I want to be with,” she says. Immediate relief radiates from Kelly.

“You do,” she agrees.

Ryan adds, “It’s not my responsibility to change everyone else’s hearts and minds. I am not doing this for them.”

“Of course not.” Kelly reaches her hand across the table. Ryan melts at the touch. Her defenses crumble in a way even the camera can see. Kelly tells her, “I meant what I said before — make this work for you, Ryan. This is your life. We’re just watching it.”

Ryan nods, her mouth moving faster than her brain. “I think I have a way to keep us on the show.”

🦇

end of chapter 4!

read on for chapter 5

#wildmoore #batwoman #ryan wilder #ryan x sophie #sophie moore #mine #fic: the ultimatum au #kelly olsen #iris west allen #angelique martin #kate kane

5 notes · View notes