#spiderman homecoming fanfic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thefriendlyferretwriter · 8 months

Text

A new side of you: Waltz of emotions

Pairing: Eugene 'Flash' Thompson x reader

Summary: Surprised, again and again.

Warning: 13k words, Tension, tension, tension, angst, a bit of fluff, OCs, don't know what else to warn you about.

A/N: I feel like this is standard by now but sorry again for being such a slow writer, I hope the fic is enough to be forgiven for my usual tardiness. Might have edited but I'm not a native speaker so get ready for plenty of mistakes, enjoy!

Tags: (Don't hesitate to tell me if you want to be added or removed, and thank you again for your feebacks ❤️) @loxerclu8 @wheelerzluv @ray-of-sunrise @m00nkn1ghts

People's view of the costume is accurate. The fabric is thin and flexible but unfortunately, it is quite a cold way to fight crimes during the chilly nights of New York.

"That was awesome! I wonder if it'll end up on the internet?"

"I doubt it. If it does end up there it'll be out of frame and shaky. The police were quite insistent when they were shoving people to safety," I say feeling the breeze as I swing around at full speed.

Landing with a huff I realize I'm out of breath, "Ned." I pant, "Remind me to get a custom binder, this one is killing me."

"I told you! You can't just buy any binder from the internet. It's like corsets, of course they are uncomfortable if they are not tailored for you!"

Your vendetta against Hollywood has reached another level," I say taking another deep breath.

With a leap I swing from the American Museum of Natural History and land on a school's rooftop.

A buzz makes me pause and crouch to check my phone and see a second call coming in from May.

"I got to go May is on the other line."

"Okay, 'night."

"'Night."

Swiping on my phone I wait for the inevitable.

"Where are you?!"

I try to defuse the damage as I look around, "I am at the park close to the flat," I draw out slowly.

"…Which park?"

…

"Do not tell me you're close to Central Park which is on the other side of the city."

"Okay, I won't say it."

"Damnit! you know I don't want you farther than Long Island at night!"

"I know, I know!" I whine, "But there was this guy with a huge Scorpion armor and he was doing mass destruction! The police couldn't do it alone they needed help!" I protest.

"Before being Spiderman you're my niece and my niece will obey the very few rules I put in place for her safety."

"Don't you think the fact that I can knock out people 3 times my size should allow me a bit of indulgence on those rules?"

"No young lady I read a ton of books on this and I know how this ends."

"How?" I ask curiously.

"Mostly teen pregnancy."

"Wow! Okay let's not be dramatic now, shall we?"

"And juvie," May continues her list.

"May I fight crimes, I don't commit it."

"Listen we have a system and it works, I don't get sarcastic with my boss and you don't go farther than Long Island past 11 PM."

"In retrospect, I think we should've thought harder on those rules."

"Too late, the system works and it's flawless. Now swing your ass back home before Spiderman gets grounded."

"Yes ma'am."

"Love you," she says smugly.

The line dies and I breathe out the annoyance I feel to then breathe in the fresh evening air.

Tearing off my mask I try to crack my neck and let it hang down to massage and release the night's tension when my eyes catch a familiar sigh.

Flash?

He sits on a bench with his phone in hand looking perplexed.

It's been a week since we last saw each other, or even talked. I didn't want to bother him and I have the feeling it's the same for him.

I look down at my wrist and fumble with the different settings before I find and activate the voice modificator.

Swinging down, I drop on the cemented ground and accidentally startle him as he jumps and stumbles to the floor.

"Oh shit, sorry I didn't mean to scare you," I say genuinely with my voice coming out deeper thanks to the device.

Stumbling around to step back up, Flash looks at Spiderman with wide eyes and his jaw on the floor.

A torrent of curses comes out of his mouth along with an excited laugh of disbelief.

"I can't believe it, it's you!" he says and motions to me up and down.

"Oh yeah, it's me!" I say rethinking my decision to offer guidance disguised as Spiderman in front of Flash Thompson.

"Oh my god I was having such a bad night and now I'm talking to Spiderman!"

"Yeah, that's awesome! Listen, I saw you from up there and you looked troubled and honestly a bit underdressed," I point to his light shirt.

"Oh yeah," he says more calmly looking down at his outfit, "I just needed to take a walk to think about-"

He hesitates.

"No that's not important."

"No way, tell me, that's why I came down here," I say sitting on the bench inviting him to join me.

It's not the first time that Spiderman has a sit-down with someone in distress; words being as useful as a handful of punches.

He sighs and sits down, "There's this um-Charity thing and my mom told me I had to bring a date and I told her I would but let's say it's easier said than done."

"Why's that? Having trouble finding a date?" I tease.

"No," he chuckles, "No actually I already know who I want to invite, but I don't know if she would say yes, and even then I don't really know where we stand. Inviting her could compromise everything," he says sliding his hands down his face with a pained sigh.

Is it me?

Who am I kidding? It's not because we kissed once that I'm his only date choice.

"Alright, so you have an idea. Why not ask her?"

"Because she could say no and I really do not want to have the conversation that would follow after that."

"What conversation?"

"You know the conversation!" he shouts full of frustration as he stands up from the bench, "The one a girl gives you when she's not interested in you. The one that goes 'It's not you, it's me' or the 'We're just friends' except in this case I'm not even sure we're friends to begin with!" he finishes his rant pacing left and right.

"That seems complicated," is the only thing I can say after a few moments of tense silence.

"Yeah and also what kind of date would be a charity event?"

"A date?" I choke out.

"I just-I've always been good at reading people, I know whether they hate me or they tolerate me. But recently it's been hard to read her."

I listen silently nodding my head from time to time.

"Before, she just rolled her eyes or would just snap back at me but now she listens to me and she worries about me and I just-I like being around her. I just worry it is all just a front and she's simply gonna drop me or tell me we're not actually friends and she just had pity on me and took me for some sort of charity case."

He finishes sitting back down his head in his hands.

"It's my fault. I shouldn't have kissed her." he groans.

I'm thankful for the mask covering my flushed face.

So it is about me.

It couldn't be anyone else. Flash Thompson is a lot of things. Sometimes an idiot, an asshole, even a jerk at times but what everyone always seems to agree on is that Flash Thompson is no player.

"You could always invite her as a friend," I loudly blur out after an awkward pause.

Flash frowns.

"You ask her to be your date and you precise it's as friends," I precise my thought.

"I guess I could try but what if she says no?"

"Well, best case scenario she says yes and you do have a friend. Or worst case scenario, she does pity you and says yes allowing you to hang out with her and convince her to see you as more than that."

He stays silent staring out into the void before snatching his phone out of his pocket.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm calling her right now before I chicken out."

Oh shit!

"Wow! Hey there how about we think about it before we make any rash decision," I say standing up from the bench in a hurry.

"What do you mean? you just told me to ask her."

"Listen," I panic and rack my brain for any last-second plan, "Here's what I propose. You walk back home and think about what you're gonna say to her on the way there, and then you call her once you get there."

He pauses, "Yeah okay, that makes sense."

A buzz startles me and reminds me of my curfew.

Trying to stay calm I hurriedly try to bid my goodbyes.

"O-Okay well, I got to go. Hope it works out for you!" I say carefully stepping backward, "As for me I'm expected somewhere so I'm gonna head there!"

"Oh yeah for sure. That's crazy man, I've always wanted to meet you, and now that it's the case you've just helped me!"

He looks back down at his phone's contact and slowly takes a few steps back nodding to me as a goodbye.

"You know what they say. I'm just your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, emotionally and physically!" I shout jogging back.

When I'm sure he's far enough, I leap into the air and swing away.

"Wait! Can we take a picture-?!" his demand fades as I shoot my next web.

Answering the phone I reassure May I'm on my way and get a few more calls from Flash that I cannot answer.

The last swing sends me to my bedroom window with a thud as I slide the glass panel up and throw my phone in first before climbing inside in a hurry as my cell buzzes again.

"Is that you?!"

"Yeah, I'm home!" I say sliding my mask off before trying to unzip my suit as I stomp around attempting to slip out of the gear.

Jumping on one foot I try to snatch the blue and red material off my feet and trip falling on the cool wooded floor.

"What was that?"

May's panicked tone and the incessant buzz coming from my phone is overwhelming.

Out of breath and my head still on the floor, I raise my hand and blindly pat around my covers before they brush against the device.

I sit myself up with a grunt and bring the phone to my ear.

"Hi!" I say enthusiast and breathless.

"Hi," he answers back abruptly.

"Everything okay?" I ask dipping my elbow amongst my blanket and burying my hand in my hair to ground it.

"Yeah!" he says back quickly with a lighter tone, "Sorry I just thought I would end up leaving a voicemail and now I just don't remember what it is that I wanted to say," he awkwardly confesses.

"Oh yeah sorry about that I was taking a shower," I skillfully lie.

"You often run out of breath after a shower?"

"No! it's just, I left my phone in my room and I heard it in the shower and started panicking the third time it rang I thought something horrible happened," I spew out.

I'm getting really good at this.

"Oh crap, my bad I didn't think it would-" he sighs, "Of course you would think that, I shouldn't have called at this hour I'm sorry I didn't think."

"No! Really it's nothing. What did you call about?"

Silence on the other line. I let it run until I start thinking he must've hung up and asks if he's still there.

"Yeah um, okay so here I go. There's this charity event that happens like every year and it's kind of badly seen to go alone."

My heart speeds up and hammers against my ribcage. It feels like my blood skyrockets through my body leaving an ice-cold feeling behind that gives me chills. This feeling gets stuck in my throat making me believe I'm struggling to breathe.

"And you'd like me to be your plus one?" I attempt to finish the sentence for him.

"Not like a date or anything like that! More like as…friends?" he ends his sentence with hesitation.

Leave the blood impression right now it feels like I was punched in the guts as the air escapes my lungs in a swift.

"Friends?" I repeat meekly to make sure he is comfortable with the term.

"Yeah if you're up to it?" he asks anxiously in return.

I feel frozen for a moment before my eyes are drawn to my wardrobe.

"Yeah of course. I'd love to go with you," I say putting my phone on speaker before laying it down on my bed.

Standing up with a grunt and newfound confidence, I skip to my closet and push stuff back and forth.

"So what type of event is it exactly?"

"Well, it's a charity but it's a charity on the Upper East Side so…there's going to be a lot of snobby people," he says with an awkward chuckle, avoiding talking about our apparent new friendship.

"So," I draw out, "Dressed up."

"Yup," he confirms.

I sigh pushing a few hangers back, "Well I don't think they'd be much impressed with me," I chuckle embarrassed, "When is the event exactly? Maybe I could go grab something that won't cause a public humiliation," I chuckle throwing yet another hanger back with a huge cling.

"That's where you hate me," he says with a pained voice.

Frowning I look at my phone still lying on my bed.

"The event is tomorrow."

My eyes bulge. I don't feel angry, I'm more surprised than anything else.

"Oh, so that really was a last-minute decision to invite me," I try to say light-heartedly.

'Actually, I already know who I want to invite.'

"It wasn't," he replies softly.

I'm getting better at making him open up. A fact that makes me smile, but I realize that I can't push my luck at the risk of going too far and having him close back up in a blink.

Trying to brush off his confession I decide to joke.

"You know Flash, when people invite you to events they tell you days beforehand," I laugh, "Now I don't even have anything worth wearing to your fancy charity!"

"I'm sorry."

"No I'm not mad it's just-I don't want to walk in with a summer dress on," I chuckle trying to reassure him, "And it takes more than a few hours of shopping to find a dress that looks expensive but is not."

"You don't own a black dress?" he asks confused.

"No."

"Not to generalize but I'm ready to bet every girl owns at least one plain black dress."

"I mean I do but it doesn't fit me anymore," I say putting the black dress at least three times too small against my much-grown self.

After a few moments of silence, I start thinking the invitation is gonna be retracted.

"I might have a solution."

"What is it?"

"Can't tell you."

"And why is that?" I frown trying to conceal my offense with a teasing tone.

"Can't tell you either."

"I'm not liking this."

The other line stays silent for a moment.

"Does that mean you don't want to come anymore?"

"No, that's not what I said," I clear up.

"Good, I'll take care of it, and thank you again. Would you like me to pick you up? Tomorrow I mean."

"Oh no, thank you but I'm sure I can find my way around."

"Okay," I wouldn't bet on it but I think I hear the hint of a smile in his words.

"Hum, when does it start? When do I have to arrive exactly?"

"Oh well you know, there is no designated time but people generally arrive later and leave earlier so no pressure."

"Okay so let's say around 9 PM? How does that sound?"

"Awesome."

"Cool," I smile.

I look around my room sheepishly waiting for a goodbye or any other signs he would like to continue the conversation.

Walking to my bed I spin around and let my ankle bump into my bed's rail letting myself fall back on my covers.

"Cool," he repeats.

"Cool," I reiterate chuckling.

"Thanks again, really."

"It's no big deal I'm sure I'm gonna have fun anyways," I say with a smile.

"Well you know it's a charity event so people are gonna do a LOT of talking."

"Why are you making it sound bad," I chuckle.

"I wouldn't say bad, I'd say boring," he says nonchalantly.

"I think I can handle boring for a night."

"I'll take you on that one," he says almost as a challenge.

My door creaks open and May's frown makes my smile drop.

"Hum I'm sorry but I have to go, see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, see you tomorrow."

"Bye."

When the line goes silent I awkwardly sit up waiting for a scolding or a rant or anything else.

"So?" she asks with her brows raised.

I know she's waiting for an explanation but the news is too important, "I might've been invited to an event tomorrow."

The warmth is too much and in the heat, I throw my cover to the side with the help of my feet to turn around and try to go back to sleep in my haze.

Having opened my blinds and window during the heated night to let in the fresh breeze, the sunlight shines through and highlights my cluttered mess of a bedroom.

The usual New York rumble is accompanied by a merry voice.

"Wakey wakey night owl!"

"May," I whine sleepily, "It's the last days of summer, can't you let me oversleep?"

"Nope because you have a package and I've been trying to guess what's in it for about twenty minutes now."

"Huh?" I say with a hoarse voice.

"Come on, stand up!"

"I don't remember buying anything," I try to reason.

"And I don't remember buying anything either so come on up, up!" she says jumping up and down.

Sliding off my bed a box is thrown onto it. A huge white rectangular box closed and flattered by a black bow wrapped around it like a Christmas present.

I groan.

"I know what it is."

"What?"

"I have nothing to wear for the charity and Flash proposed to help but I thought it would just be a quick drop off not…that," I say with a gesture to the box.

"How nice."

"I guess but I'm uncomfortable getting a dress from him. If it wasn't so last minute I would've bought one for myself but-"

"Didn't you say it was a fancy event?"

"Yeah?" I answer not getting her point.

"Rich people smell a fraud it's better if he's the one dressing you up for tonight."

"Dressing me," I bark a laugh, "Flash would not dress me, maybe his mom helped or-"

I'm cut off by the phone going off in the other room.

As May walks out to reach it I admire the simplicity yet classiness of the box. I smile as I fidget with the bow before tugging on it and letting it loose.

Half-listening to May's phone call I push off the ribbon and lift the lid.

"Holy fuck!"

I throw the lid back on top of the box the corner not fitting back properly and let it slide aside.

"I'll call you right back-what?! What happened?!" May says in a hurry with the phone still glued to her ear.

I face her with my back turned away from my bed where the dress is sitting, "I can't wear that."

"Can't wear what?" she asks walking to my bed and opening the box back.

"Oh wow."

"I know."

"This is gorgeous."

"I know, I can't wear that."

"Wait-why not?"

“It’s too much. It’s the kind of dress you wear to attract attention, not just to walk around at a charity event,” I spit out at full speed as May puts the phone back to her ear and asks the person who is on the other line and who has not bothered to hang up to come forward and open the front door which is not locked.

"I think you're overreacting a little bit. It's just a pretty dress."

Listening to her I gather up the courage to turn back around and have another look at the black glittery dress.

"It's too much! He told me it's an event full of snobby rich people and you know what's gonna happen if I wear this around snobby rich people?"

May straightens up and takes a posh accent, "What a promiscuous little lady you are," she scolds before laughing.

"I'm serious!" I whine taking the dress out of the box.

The dress's length reaches the ground and the long sleeves hang loose. As the front of the dress faces Aunt May, the back view horrifies me.

I choke on my gasp and swiftly turn the dress around.

At the view of the open back of the dress May's eyes match mine as they widen like sausages.

"Oh wow now that's promiscuous," she says with no accent or tease this time.

"What was he thinking?!"

"Nothing. I doubt Flash handpicked this dress himself," she speculates feeling the fabric of the dress.

Her observation is followed by the front door shutting and a voice calling out to May.

"We're in here Happy!"

With a frown, I watch as Happy Hogan appears at the threshold of my bedroom.

"What is he doing here?" I question as I point to him with the dress still in my hands.

"Your aunt said you're going out tonight and she didn't want to stay alone so I proposed to stay with her," he says all the while analyzing the dress up and down before pointing to it, "Where did you get that?"

"It's a gift," May explains.

"No! No no no no no, it's temporary, a temporary borrowed and very expensive looking dress."

"Not just looking," Happy informs me.

My body proves that it is in fact possible to get even more tense.

"What do you mean by that exactly?" I ask with a meek voice.

Seeing my distressed face Happy makes eye contact with May, gauging the situation.

"Well I mean," he draws out walking up to me and grabbing the dress raising it to examine the fabric, "It looks like the kind of dress Tony makes me pick up for Pepper so I figured-"

"Oh my god!" I shout throwing the dress back on my bed.

I walk to my nightstand and reach for my phone.

"What are you doing?" May ask.

"I'm canceling," I say hurriedly.

"What? No!" she protests.

Flash's number is already dialed and the phone is placed at my ear as I shoo both of them out of my room.

Hurrying May out I close the door as the fourth dial rings in my ear.

Somehow the sound of his voice allows me to breathe out.

"Hey, what is it?"

"What the fuck Flash!"

The warmth leaves his voice and worry takes its place, "What is it?"

"The dress!"

"What? what's wrong with it, you don't like it?"

"It's too much!" I exclaim.

"Oh crap, I'm sorry."

"What were you thinking?" I said feeling a little guilty knowing he couldn't have guessed that I wouldn't like the dress.

"Hey in my defense I didn't choose the dress."

"Then who did?!"

"Well I wasn't sure so I kinda asked Lea to choose," he hesitates to say.

My brain freezes and a headache is right around the corner, "Wait, isn't she supposed to be on her honeymoon?" I ask pinching my nose and scrunching my eyes closed.

"She was but she's a big part of the charity so she is flying back for tonight and is gonna finish her honeymoon here in New York."

"Oh and so you let her choose a dress for me not thinking that our way of dressing up might be way different?" I ask incredulously.

"You make it sound bad."

"It is Flash!" I shout hyperventilating, "She's a model and this type of dress is made for the runway, not charity, and not on me."

"Wait so the problem is that it doesn't fit?"

"No!" I groan falling back on my bed beside the same dress that is making me break down.

"I'm sorry but I'm having a hard time understanding the problem right now, do you hate the dress is that what it is?"

"No, I don't hate the dress," I say.

It's true I like the dress, it's a pretty dress.

"Have you tried it on?"

I pause and answer 'no' in a tone that says it should be obvious to him that I would never try on a brand-name dress.

"So what's the issue exactly? You don't dislike the dress and you haven't tried it on so you can't complain that it doesn't fit, so what's up?"

"It's not a normal dress," I explain as a matter of fact.

"A normal dress?" I can hear the tease in his tone.

"Yes, a normal dress." I reiterate.

"And what is a normal dress exactly?"

"A dress that doesn't look like it was made in a studio in a fancy part of Beverly Hills!"

"Okay, I understand, Lea has a particular style."

"And Lea knows how to walk around with people's eyes on her!" I shout convinced that he now understands my point of view, "I just-" I sigh, "I don't want to walk in there and have people looking at me and judging me, especially rich snobby people."

"Oh if that's what scares you I can reassure you right now and tell you that no one will pay you any attention."

"You haven't seen the dress," I say as a matter of fact.

"No, but I can tell you that standing beside me as my da-my plus one, everyone will obviously be too busy admiring me to be paying you any mind."

I snort and try to muffle the noise by cupping my mouth but the unflattering cackle reaches the other end of the phone.

I know he's reassured now that I laughed but it doesn't erase my worry.

I calm down and weigh my request before verbalizing it.

"Could you drive me to the event?" I decided to just come out with it hoping for the best.

"What happened to taking the bus?" He asks genuinely.

"Again, you haven't seen the dress and I'd rather not travel around Queens dressed to the nines. I just want to be safe, you know?"

I know that my safety isn't at risk but dressed like that, a judging stare would be as dreadful as a wandering hand.

I can't hear him but I'm certain he nods agreeing with me.

"Well, it would be an honor to be your knight in shining armor for the night knowing you're actually my savior," he jokes, "But sadly there isn't any carriage available so we will have to settle for my car, I hope that's alright."

"Oh what a shame, I expected nothing less than the fanciest vehicle," I chuckle.

"Sorry Cinderella but fairy godmother only managed to get the dress."

"And I still wonder how she managed to do that," I say turning on my side and feeling the fabric.

"That's a secret…Try the dress on and call me back to tell me how it fits. Or better yet text me, It's kind of crazy around here today."

It is only now that I realize there is noise around him, a lot of noise and that makes me gather that he must already be over there helping to set everything up and I'm here having a meltdown and calling him having a tantrum about a dress.

"I'm so sorry I didn't, I mean if I knew you were busy I would've-"

"No no, it's alright really-" He tries to chime in.

"No I mean you're probably busy, I can't believe I didn't think of that-" I ramble before he cuts me off.

"No really, you're a life-savor Parker. Those events are old-fashioned and you're like forced to have someone with you and I really didn't want to spend my entire night answering the same question over and over again-"

It's his turn to ramble and I find myself listening on liking the idea of him opening up to me.

It is not every day that I get to listen to Flash Thompson ramble, let alone to me.

"It's annoying when people crowd you and ask why you don't have a date with you and they end up dissecting what must be wrong with you to not have a girl on your arm."

"Sounds annoying."

"It is. Sometimes I manage to avoid that kind of event but for this one my family is in charge so," He finishes dragging his word.

"You are forced to participate."

He confirms and gets interrupted by another voice. I frown trying to listen and make up a bit of the conversation going on before he comes back to the line with a sigh.

"I'm sorry it's a bit crazy right now. My mom always goes nuts the day of these events," he says as I can hear Mme.Thompson shouting in the back.

"Okay, that's my cue. Try the dress on and text me okay?"

"Sure," I say with a smile.

"Bye," he says along with another sentence that I cannot decipher, presumably aimed at someone else before the line dies and I'm left lying on my bed retracing the conversation.

I look at the dress once more. The sparkles look more and more inviting instead of revolting and I stand back up fixing myself before I open the door to face both May and Happy.

Making awkward eye contact I see that they are half bent toward my door before they stand straight up and cough to ease the tension.

After a moment of silence where my gaze is enough judgment, I speak up and ask for help.

"Can you help me do my hair?"

Meddling with the final strand of my hair May stands back to admire her work as I add the final touch to my makeup applying the red lipstick with precision.

Closing the cap I stand up and have an overall look at myself as May squeals and hands me my jacket. She asks a few more questions when I head to the door and check if I have everything I need placed in the pouch she lent me for the night.

My brain barely has time to register the questions before I hum and give a half-assed answer as I put my jacket on and try to exit the apartment.

I turn around to hear her give me rule after rule for the night.

"Flash drives you to the event, you stay at this event," she points out referring to the birthday incident where the only reason I wasn't grounded was the fact that my exit saved me from a potential wound from the blowout of fireworks.

"You have your fun and you come home at 1 AM. Not 2, not 3, 1 AM, got it?"

I nod.

"And Flash drives you back, no one else, Flash."

"Yes," I say a bit exasperated.

"And you stay glued to him all night."

"Yes, Aunt May I promise! Can I go now he's waiting for me outside," I lie.

He's not waiting for me outside, as a matter of fact I haven't even sent him a message informing him I'm ready for him to pick me up.

"Okay be careful-And text me both when you arrive and when you're coming home."

I nod at her as I walk backward to the elevator and watch as she smiles before closing the apartment door. I huff loudly and turn around to look down to my phone texting Flash that I'm ready and will be waiting for him outside.

It's when I'm halfway down the elevator that my phone rings.

"Yes?"

"Hey, I just got your text and huh," he draws out.

I don't answer and just let him bask in the silence of the line.

"I'm sorry things were crazy. I'm just now getting ready."

"Wait you're getting ready?! Then when are you coming to pick me up?" I ask walking out of the elevator and pushing the door of the apartment building open letting the New York ambiance bask me in its hurriedness.

The breeze reaches me and I rub my arm getting used to the weather slipping up the back of my jacket and biting at my open back when I notice a…no way.

"Flash what did you do?"

"What-what do you mean what did I do?" he stutters.

"I mean why is there a guy looking at me waiting by a car that looks like it's worth more than the neighborhood," my question is more of a statement.

I hear him curse under his breath.

"I'm really sorry. She told me she would be subtle."

"Who?" I ask taking my eyes off the supposed driver.

"My mom. I told her I had to come to get you but she still needed me around so I insisted and even said I'd call you to push back our meeting but she said it would be disrespectful and that she would send someone."

I stay silent processing all of it.

"I'm sorry I wanted to call and tell you but I just got to my room."

I look back up to the driver and make eye contact before we exchange hasty smiles.

I sigh thinking of this all over walking down the stairs one by one slowly.

"Okay, I guess it wasn't really in your power. But you better be here when I arrive I will not show up and walk around alone." I say firmly.

"Of course," he says in all seriousness.

Telling him I'll see him soon, I hang up and focus my gaze on the driver as I approach him.

"Miss Parker?"

I nod before confirming my identity verbally.

He then motions to the car before opening the door and gesturing for me to step in.

When it clicks shut I am left with the silence of the empty vehicle.

As the buildings go by and I get closer to the venue my stress level rises and I start fidgeting and falling into a cycle of grabbing my phone, second-guessing texting Flash, and then abandoning the idea and letting my body fill up with more anxiety.

The arrival doesn't stop that nagging feeling that causes goosebumps to rush down my spine, that or the wind nipping at my back through my coat.

Walking up the stairs my nerves run wild through my body as my legs shake walking up the stairs.

Reaching the top, I make eye contact with a man standing in front of the doors. Approaching him carefully, I struggle to find my voice and I am cut off in my stutter as he guesses my last name.

Confused, I confirm his guess and my frown must ring a bell for him as he turns to the door, "I was informed that one of Mme.Thompson's guests would arrive alone and I'm guessing it's you," he says as he buzzes me in.

I nod to him as a thank you and continue to walk ahead this time on a soft and long red carpet instead of stone.

The voices, which were mere mumbles turn into booming voices coming from every corner of the room and my coat is starting to make me sweat reminding me that I'll have to discard it soon.

The thought makes me sweat even more.

Like fate, my eyes scan my surroundings and immediately fall on him standing in front of the counter right beside Lea.

He's fidgety and I see Lea receiving a glass of alcohol before making eye contact with me as she nods in my direction.

I feel hands on my shoulders and jolt stepping aside to see who touched me. I see a man who stumbles back apologizing and realize he is trying to gather my coat to let me join the crowd and a cold sweat replaces the regular sweat.

As the fabric leaves my shoulder my voice stays stuck in my throat and instead, a small squeak manages to slither out.

Still looking for my voice, I turn to him walking away with my coat.

I'm left standing there helpless.

When I see the man disappear I turn back to my previous position to look back at Flash when I see him getting hit behind the head and scolded by Lea. I also notice the glass now empty on the counter as I hear his voice more distinctly dismissing Lea with a 'Whatever' as he rushes to my side.

"He took my jacket," I husher panicked but still trying to be subtle.

"I'm sorry," he says sincerely taking off his jacket.

"I feel naked," I whisper.

"I'm so sorry," he reiters putting his jacket on my shoulders before ushering me to walk ahead leading us towards Lea at the bar.

His hand is placed on my back flaring shiver with the new sensation of his hand on my back, or maybe it is just the fresh jacket on me?

My brain focuses back and sets on Lea greeting me.

With her asking how I've been I let my hand play with the jacket and nod along with the conversation. Flash himself messes with the blazer by first securing it over my shoulder and then playing with the sleeves that hang loosely.

When my mind stops fixating on him, I blink in surprise when my ears register an apology coming from Lea about the dress. I try to protest and instead thank her for the last-minute save when Flash's mother appears to join and inform us that we need to scatter around.

I stand clueless for a moment before I feel his hand on my back gently pushing me to walk alongside him.

Led around once more I decide to stop being dragged around like a clueless puppet and tug the hand placed on my back to entertwine our arms and walk together instead of letting him direct me around.

I don't talk much. I mostly nod and answer small questions here and there.

The evening runs along pretty smoothly as each interaction the two of us have only lasts few minutes before Flash skillfully finds a way to bid our goodbyes and walk us to yet another couple beckoning us over.

"Oh no."

"What is it?" I ask him trying to glance in the direction he was looking at to see an older lady standing there motioning us to join her.

"That's Garret's grandmother."

"And she's a mean old lady," I deduct.

"No worse, she's a passive-aggressive bitch."

I'm taken aback by his name-calling and look back at the woman waiting impatiently for us.

"I think she's waiting for us," I suggest.

"Okay, don't talk and stay close to me," he instructs.

"You mean like I've been doing for the past hour and a half?"

My teasing provokes a smile to appear on his face for a moment but it quickly disappears when his head turns back to the lady as he walks us toward her.

I hug his arm getting closer to him as he uses his opposite hand and brings it to our linked arms as a sort of comfort I'm guessing.

"Eugene," she beckons us over with a honeyed voice.

Her mask falls for a moment and I can see a glimpse of irritation before, like any other influential figure, she morphs her face into a more pleased expression.

"Madam Pennington," Flash says with an edge.

I first think that his tone might've been hesitation, but that changes when the woman gets that sour look back on her face and I realize his tone is subtly bitter.

Without trying, my brain does the math in a matter of seconds and I realize that if Flash refers to her with another last name than Garret's it must mean she is divorced.

She makes eye contact with me as my face must've shown that I figured Flash's comment out and her burning stare drives me to get closer to him for protection.

He clears his throat driving her murderous stare back to him as I abandon the idea of nodding along to their conversation and instead subtly look around the room.

The buffet, the people, anything other than the two of them.

"My grandson seems to be upset. When I tried talking to him about it he refused to speak but I did overhear that you two fought over a girl," she ends her sentence looking at me up and down.

"And by overhear you mean that you snooped around against your grandson's wish," his argument is aimed not only at defending himself but McCoy's privacy as well which surprises me.

"Excuse you?"

Her voice getting louder I notice McCoy himself standing just a few feet away from us looking at his grandmother about to blow a fuse and I decide to diffuse the tension.

"I believe your grandson is looking for you," I say nodding toward him standing there frozen, "And Flash your mother is looking for us over there."

Pushing him into motion I look back to see Garret approaching his grandmother but decide to not dwell on the talk they're about to have.

"Are you okay?" I ask as we hurry away from them.

He doesn't answer and just nods with a hum. He does however ask where his mother is and that's when I frown.

"You know I made it up so we could flee the conflict, right?"

He stops in his tracks before turning to me and I can see the gears turning in his head.

"Oh, yeah."

We keep eye contact and it must take a toll on him because he then avoids my stare and decides to look forward, all stiff.

I'm guessing the only reason he doesn't flee is the fact that our arms are still tangled together but I don't want to let go.

Maybe it's selfish but since the last time we talked, or more precisely the last we talked and I was not in gear, he ran away and ghosted me.

I want an explanation.

"This place is beautiful," I say looking around at the structure trying to pry a conversation out of him.

"I have something to tell you."

His tone is particular and I can't make out if he's hopeful or desperate.

My own tone embarrasses me as I egg him on full of anticipation.

"There's this type of dance and-" he cuts himself off and stares behind us.

Turning around, I spot McCoy staring right back at him.

"Not again," I hear him say under his breath.

I want to ask him if he's gonna be okay or if he'd like me to stay with him to talk to Garret but he shakes my hands off his arm and grabs it before taking off in the direction of the stairs.

"Come on follow me."

I can only let out a small squeal of surprise before catching up with his footing as the previous noisy venu dies down when we reach the second floor.

Once up there he doesn't stop and continues to sprint down the hall before taking a turn and tugging me to a corner away from McCoy.

My back is placed against the wall and I rearrange the jacket on my shoulders as I see Flash look around the corner to see if Garret is following us.

I suppose he gave up the idea as Flash visibly relaxes and turns back to me.

The proximity reminds me of that night at the laser game and the sudden look on his face tells me he must reminisce as well.

He knows that I know what we're both thinking about because we avoid eye contact and I let my eyes bounce between the multiple decors as a decoy.

"This place is beautiful. I wonder what it would feel to go to sleep in a place like that," I try to deflect from the tension.

"It's like any other place, you go to bed and you fall asleep," he brushes off trying to avoid the tension as well.

The simple statement makes me turn back to him and make eye contact as the realization slowly sets in.

"No."

"No, what?" he frowns.

"You slept here before?" my question sounds more like a statement.

"Yeah."

"But you live like 20 minutes away."

"Oh so now you know where I live Parker?"

My eyes widen at his insinuation.

I'm not a stalker!

"Well after you pointed out that I didn't know where you lived I was curious. If anything you're the one who told me I should know where you lived."

"Yeah and by that I meant coming over not googling my address."

"I did not Google your address!" I lie, "You're making me look bad!"

My restlessness makes him laugh.

Still chuckling he points ahead silently asking me to follow him.

"It's more of a tradition. My mom wants us to stay and sleep here every year," he says walking peacefully beside me.

It's a change compared to his erratic running just a few minutes ago.

"So you also slept at the fairytale mansion?"

"Fairytale mansion?"

"Yeah, the one where Lea got married."

Confused, it takes him a few seconds before his frown disappears and his mouth opens with an 'Oh'.

"Yeah," he simply says opening a door as I stand here frozen.

I know he probably wants me to enter but I'm confused and look at him waiting for an explanation.

He doesn't answer and instead walks inside reaching the other side of the bed to retrieve something.

With hesitation, I take a cautious step in looking around as if the room is full of boobie traps when I hear a dull thump and look back to see him throwing a gym bag on the queen-sized bed.

It must be the glamour of the night inhibiting my ability to be logical at times because it takes me a few seconds before my confusion turns into curiosity.

"Is that your bag?"

"No, I just love going through other people's stuff."

I don't answer or laugh and just raise my brows.

"Yes Parker, It's my bag."

I relax and close the door behind me before walking toward the bed warily and sitting down softly as the mattress sinks under me.

"I thought if I have to run away from Garret, why not pause before going back out there?" he explains throwing a book on the bed covers.

He dives back into his bag as I grab the book.

"Hey, I know that book!" I note joyfully.

I see him stop scrambling through his bag and look back up at me.

"Really?" he hesitates.

"Yeah I talked about it with Susan on your birthday. Usually, she's not into these kind of books but she's been watching a show similar to it so I mentioned it to her."

When he doesn't answer and doesn't make a move to dive back into his bag, another question comes troubling me.

"By the way, how did you hear about this book?"

"Oh um, someone told me about it," he says fumbling with the clothes inside the bag.

"Really? Who?" I ask knowing this isn't his type of book.

He doesn't answer and I assume it must be Garret who told him about the book and he simply doesn't wanna talk about him.

"You know as much as I don't like Garret, he's been your friend for years," I tip-toe around the issue and remember that he must not know about the video I saw where he's going off on McCoy and his clique.

"And?"

"And. With such a great taste in books, how could you not forgive him?" I try to turn the tension into something lighter with a chuckle gesturing to the book.

His frown turns into surprise, "Oh yeah, yeah! It's Garret who told me about it a few weeks ago."

"I never thought Garret would be the kind of guy who reads outside of school," I try to say without sounding mean.

A flash of red in my peripheral vision attracts my attention to turn away from the papercover and fills me with excitement when I recognize the sight.

"You brought him!" I say gripping the plushy and letting the book fall back on the covers.

He seems satisfied with my reaction and tugs his bag to fall back down before he too takes a seat beside me.

I lean down with my feet dangling as my back makes contact with the lavish bedding.

I take a look over at the Spiderman plushy wondering if in the small period of time any harm came his way. My detective work comes out dry as the plush doesn't seem to have been put under any distress when I hear him lay down as well.

I turn my gaze to him ready to make another joke and congratulate him on the plush's wellbeing when I see him already looking back at me and lose my smile as the memories flash back.

The muffled music, the way his curls were laying on his bed. He's been growing them out.

I like his hair long.

I like his lips too.

The calmness I feel is cut short when the bedroom door swings open and the sound of heels thud on the carpeted ground.

I raise up in my seat in a rush and grip the plushy hard against my chest in a panic as if I had just been caught having sex.

"Jee! Ever heard of knocking?!" he shouts sitting up after me.

"Coming from you?" Lea says looking up and down at him with an incredulous expression.

He sighs. I don't know if it comes from annoyance or relief from the previous scene.

"I've been looking for you two, your mother sent me to get you, come on now it's about to start," she says turning back on her heels and pulling the door behind her to leave it half closed waiting for us to join her.

"What's about to start?" I wonder looking at him after admiring her walk away.

The face I find makes mine fall. The paleness and distress plastered on his face makes me feel like I'm about to be the butt of the joke.

His blank stare angers me and figuring out I won't get any explanation from him I jump on my feet straightening the jacket on my shoulder to run after her.

Any other day it would've been to get an autograph but right now my only hope is to get reassured that all of it is just a huge misunderstanding.

Surely 'It's about to start' cannot be that bad? Maybe just a toast, or a speech?

"What's about to start?" I say trying to catch up to her but my question goes unanswered when we reach the top of the stairs and I see the Thompson matriarch taking the venue by storm as she speaks up in the middle of the stairs with her voice reasoning through the immense space.

"Ladies and gentlemen!"

I hear her call out before my arm is engulfed and my gaze is redirected to him.

"I'm sorry, I wanted to tell you really, but I kept being interrupted and then there was Garret and then we had a moment of calm and we started to talk and-"

"This evening has been fulfilling and I enjoy each and every one of your presence-"

My ears cannot keep up in between the two speeches. I'm even more overwhelmed when I realize that Lea has left us at the top of the split stairs, walked beside Aliyah, and joined her newlywed husband down the stairs.

"The time has come, and I know you enjoy it as much as I do," she says with a cheeky smile and a look of knowledge across the room sending the surroundings into a fit of chuckles.

"So now. I invite you to take your partner by the arm, and let's join each other in the other room so the waltz can take place."

The end of her speech sends a cold sweat down my back and I turn back to him unable to scream.

I'm speechless and incapable of voicing my anger and frustration.

The words want to come out but my brain is mushing together my two arguments, the one where I tear him a new one for not warning me or the one where I yell that I don't know how to dance.

Why didn't he think of inviting someone who knows how to dance?!

"A waltz?! I don't even know how to dance!" I say loudly enough to share my panic and frustration without attracting any looks.

His newest excuse gets cut off by his mother reaching us at the top of the stairs, " What are you two still doing here, come on chop chop," she finishes clapping her hands to drive us to hurry downstairs.

Another gasp fights its way into my lungs when I realize I'm about to disappoint her as well.

It's only logical for her son to dance in an event she organized.

I'm standing here looking like an idiot with my mouth wide open when my own voice surprises me, "I don't know how to dance!" I say point-blank.

"Of course you do! You went to the same elementary school and I distinctly remember your grade took ball lessons," she says proudly.

The new information confuses me and I doubt the woman's memory.

Maybe she's confusing me with another girl.

Not knowing how to question her or flatly deny her version of the event, I start to babble as I notice Lea walking back up the stairs with her arm under her husband's.

"No-I. I don't. I mean-I never," I ramble, any argument dying on my tongue leaving me a stuttering mess.

I don't know how to word my sentence when my eyes notice Flash's face getting sour the more his mother insists.

"Mom she said she doesn't want to," he says dryly.

I don't know if it's out of annoyance or out of shame but both possibilities are taking a toll on me and I feel the tears coming alongside the lack of oxygen.

"Well, what do you propose we do? Your father isn't here so I can't dance and one of us needs to!"

"We've been hosting this event every year for 5 years now I think we can sit this one out," he says somewhat confidently.

"I would've liked a bit of a heads up Eugene," Aliyah scolds him through her teeth.

Yeah, me too.

"They're waiting for us. Flash come on, come dance with me," Lea says extending her hand to him and taking a look at her proposal I see Mme.Thompson's bulb light up atop her head.

"You didn't even tell her there would be a dance?!" Her accusation seems rhetorical as the deep frown on her face doesn't seem ready to welcome any excuses.

He scrunches his eyes close and rubs them but doesn't answer and opens them back up to look at me.

I see regret and wonder if he regrets inviting me. A ball clogs my throat and I try to stay as stone-faced as possible instead of making a scene by dropping on the stairs and starting to ball like a baby.

He breathes in before following Lea's lead and I stop him. Placing my hand on his chest, I then shrug off the jacket he gave me and hand it back to him, my subconscious somehow realizing he would need it to look put together.

He walks down the stairs as his mother softly takes my arm under hers.

"I'm sorry, I would think my son would have the decency to tell you about this," she sighs as we walk down the stairs.

"But then again I should have known better with how different he's been acting lately."

I didn't intend to answer but that last bit of rant resonates with me and the wave of embarrassment and sadness I feel take a step back to leave place to my curiosity.

"Yeah I think Lea made a comment about it," I say looking at his back.

He suddenly turns his head around and looks at me following him before he turns back around and walks ahead taking his place with Lea in the middle of the room with the others.

Mme.Thompson stops us to stand around the crowd around the room and leave enough space for the others to dance in the middle of it.

Taking her attention away from me, she nods away seemingly to someone before music starts resounding in the area.

"I shouldn't burden you with that," she says with a warm smile while she rubs my arm in comfort.

"Oh no it doesn't burden me. I just hope he gets better."

My well wishes widen her smile.

"I'm glad he has you to hang out with," she says warmly.

"You're a good influence on him. and I can only hope you two stay close, it's not every day my son doesn't complain about this event."

"Yes, he told me about that. He was very thankful for saving him from those stares about him not having a date," I remember our conversation.

"Stares? Why would anyone stare at him fo not having a date?"

I frown, "You know. The rule about having a date for this charity in fear of being the talk of the night," I say trying to nudge her to remember.

"There was never such a rule. Who told you that? Eugene? Léa?"

I'm left speechless and with my mouth hanging open as the frown orning my face doesn't subside.

Her own frown is quickly replaced by a smile before she abruptly apologizes when a woman motions her over.

The loss of her arm is like a warm blanket has been ripped away making me notice the stares I was previously blind to.

A couple stares at me while another switches their stare back and forth between me and Flash, probably wondering why his date is not the one in his arms.

I look at him and see he's arguing with Léa while they waltz around and the sight would impress me if I wasn't confused as to why they look like they're ready to bite at each other's throat.

Another peep and I see that same man watching me with a nasty look before not-so-subtly whispering to his wife who makes eye contact with me before she answers him with a snarky smile.

I look around trying to convince myself I'm being tricked by my own paranoia when I start hearing my own intakes of breath and know it's a sign that it's all getting too much.

In my panic and without Ms.Thompson around to take my mind off things, I search for his face and find him already looking at me.

The panic sets in my chest and I know I need to step out for fresh air but I hesitate to do so in worry of the scene looking bad to the public.

Feeling the meltdown creeping up closer and closer, I look around and notice an arch under the stairs leading to a hallway and remember seeing multiple people passing through during the night and I conclude it must be the path towards a bathroom.

Sending a tense smile his way, I turn around to walk away.

Getting closer to my goal I step aside to let someone exit before walking in and locking the bathroom door behind me.

With the door shutting off most other noise from outside, I stand in front of the mirror and take a deep breath filling my lungs and trying to shake my head off those thoughts before hanging my head down and blowing out.

I raise my head and look at myself in the mirror to see the tears pricking my eyes and silently scold myself before reaching for a towel and trying my best to chase away the tears without messing up my mascara.

Another breath in and I take in my appearance one more time giving myself a pep talk before straightening my dress and deciding to go back out there before anyone starts to whisper about a possible date on the run.

I wouldn't want him to be surrounded.

Or maybe he'd like me to go.

I remember his face, the one he had on those damn stairs where I wondered why I accepted his invitation and why I let myself believe it could be that easy.

I violently shake my head off those thoughts and unlock the door ready to indulge the rest of this night before cutting all contact with Flash Thompson as I hear the distant music flooding back in my ears.

Lost in my thoughts I run straight into someone.

"I'm so sorry I-" My automatic response is cut short when I recognize him and the words get stuck in my throat.

"Hi," he blurs out.

I can only say hi back coldly as I believe any other response would send me back into the bathroom to place another tissue under my eyes.

"I swear I was gonna tell you."

His voice breaks the silence and when my ears register his words, I can't respond and instead walk around him to the other side of the hallway with my mind fixed on the idea that tonight was a mistake.

"No need to say sorry Flash-" I say nonchalantly, done with this poor decision of mine to accept his invitation.

"But I want to!"

I mess with a bust displayed on a table and let my finger slide on the statue trying to avoid his stare.

"Listen, it's completely my fault and I'm an idiot for not telling you. I was freaking out when I asked you to come here with me and I had my mind set so hard on you telling me you wouldn't come that when you said yes I was taken by surprise and the dance completely slipped off my mind."

I listen on with a frown. I stop messing with the bust and turn around leaning on the table as I look down avoiding his stare.

"My mom was the one who reminded me of it and then you called freaking out about the dress so I focused on that and I forgot again and then you walked in with your dress and then there was Garret's grandma and then Garrett and everything else followed so when there was just the two of us I just couldn't remember. And then Léa came in and you looked so sad and scared and angry I didn't know what to do."

I stand there listening to him spit out everything weighing on him before he suddenly breathes in for the first time and looks at me.

"I'm so sorry. I really am."

His gaze traps me and the remorse drowning his irises drains the anger out of me.

"You also lied about the date rule," I say, my voice barely able to convey any emotion.

I don't even find it in myself to yell at him, any scolding coming to mind being one he already gave himself.

"I'm an idiot and a coward and I completely get it if you never want to talk to me again."

At that I don't even know what to answer.

I did say I'd cut all contact with Flash Thompson after tonight but just a few weeks back I would've also said I'd never talk to him outside of schoolwork.

"Okay," I say after a while of silence trying to set us back in a way we can both be comfortable discussing with each other.

"If we're going on an apology spree I think I should be apologizing as well."

"What could you possibly have to apologize for? I'm the one who invited you last minute, so last minute that you didn't even have anything to wear."

I hear his step closing up on me before I put distance between us and walk back and forth down the hall.

"You invited me here to be your partner and I couldn't even participate in the important part of the night. Then there were the stairs and then people were talking and looking at you and Lea and then at me and it was all just so-"

My apology turns into a ramble and the simple retelling of the event produces that same panic inside of me.

Getting ready to excuse myself to go to the bathroom a second time, I turn around to see him standing right behind me. I can't look at him and instead focus my gaze on the floor trying to breathe properly when I feel his arms gently wrap around me and pull me in for a hug.

My finger messes with the fabric at the back of his jacket as my face is buried in the front of it trying to hide my face and not make eye contact.

I fool myself into thinking if I avoid eye contact with him we will stop talking in circles or better yet stop avoiding each other like the plague.

I also hope this way he won't see me on the verge of crying for the second time tonight.

"If anything," he says using my words as I feel his hand come up to stroke my hair, "I'm the one who should've thought better than to think you would still remember those dance classes," he says in a lighter tone.

I recognize his attempt to lighten up the situation and change the topic.

His comment makes me frown and against the warm feeling blossoming in my chest, I lift my face from the depth of his jacket to look at him.

"Yeah your mom talked about that but I don't think I ever took any dance classes, I think she mistook me for someone else."

His face, previously relaxed, falls and a sympathetic smile appears, "No you did," he says quietly, matching the hushed hallway.

My knitted brows are enough indication for him to continue his explanation.

He exhales through his nose and looks down messing with my hand to avoid making eye contact, "It was back when we were…around six? Seven?"

My confusion only deepens as I'm unable to rack my brain for a memory when I feel him tug on my hand gently drawing me closer to him and my frown turns into a muted gasp.

I don't have time to ask what he is doing when he laces our hands together and asks me in the quietest voice if he can.

It is then I realize he's asking to put his hand on my bare back to, I assume, teach me how to waltz.

I can't find my voice, the situation taking me aback so much so that instead of voicing my consent I decide to instead nod and place his hand myself to reassure him of my agreement.

I did not realize that my back was cold, most likely due to getting used to the lack of coverage but I feel it now as his hand feels hot against it.

My full attention is on him before my eyes are drawn down as I see him taking a step forward driving me to respond and step backward.

The motion has me uncontrollably giggling as my left foot follows his right to step to the side.

"Why exactly are we doing this right now?" I ask with another titter.

"Doing what?"

"Dancing Flash," I laugh, "Waltzing in the hallway."

"Dusting up memories. Proving to you that you do know how to dance or if you're right, to teach you how to waltz to apologize for not telling you there would be a dance."

My previous smile falls and I tilt my head back with a loud sigh.

"I apologized again," he awkwardly notices.

"Yes Flash, stop apologizing," I say looking at him straight in the eyes and raising my brows to emphasize my demand.

"I can't, I feel bad."

I reposition my hand on his shoulder with a light stroke as I squeeze our hands letting us continue swaying gently.

I find myself frustrated at his confession when my brain clears up and suddenly remember our last time together.

He feels bad about not telling me about the dance but he doesn't feel bad about running off the last time we saw each other?!

I remember waiting an entire week for a call or even a text. Jumping to my phone at every notification hoping it was him giving me an explanation for running off on me.

I force myself to brush it off when the feeling of his thumb stroking my back envelops me in a daze I want to hold onto until the night inevitably ends.

"Let's call it even then. You didn't tell me about the dance and I couldn't fulfill my side of the bargain."

"It wasn't a bargain, you just did me a favor."

I can't argue back and decide to look away.

"See, you're doing it."

I look back at him with panic thinking he's going to call me out on my avoidant stare and start a new argument when I see him smile before I notice that he's talking about us dancing and it is then that I look down and realize I'm naturally mirroring his movements.

I laugh impressed at myself before looking back at him as we acknowledge my accomplishment.

Our shared smile diminishes as he stops our dance.

"I didn't invite you because I was desperate," he confesses, "I just really wanted to hang out with you."

I stand there frozen before he gently nudges me sending us back into a soft waltz.

His honesty stuns me and I follow his lead again.

"I think it might be the first time you've been honest with me," It's my turn to confess.

"I don't always lie," he defends himself.

"No, but you never opened up like that before."

I see him trying to avoid eye contact and I silently scold myself as my words seem to drive him away once again.

"I like that," I quickly follow up.

That does it. his eyes raise back to meet mine.

"Why don't you do it more often?"

At that, he seems to hesitate as we gently sway side to side.

"You know friends share their feelings," I remind him of our conversation yesterday where he invited me to come here as a friend.

I can see that the memory rings a bell as he stops our movement once more.

I see his eyes desperate to say something but he's struggling with himself to find the right words as I witness his mouth open and close over and over again.

"See, like riding a bike. It comes back naturally," he manages to say stepping back trying to avoid the subject.

"You're doing it again," I say trying my best to not sound frustrated.

He huffs and slides his hand down his face.

He huff?!

How is he the one pissed off right now?!

I cross my hands taking a harsher stance.

"Okay, you said open so I'm gonna be open," he says fidgeting around.

"If you want us to be friends, you can't expect me to just tell you everything that goes through my head at every moment."

I sigh, "I guess it's fair."

My response appears to relax him.

"But," he interjects, "I guess I could make an effort."

I smile despite myself and look away to try and hide the fact that he turned the situation around once again.

My attempt fails when he looks for my face to catch me smile.

I turn away but he walks around me trying to catch me.

In a last attempt, I hid my face on the verge of laughter.

"Hey wait, you're cheating!" he protests with a chuckle.

I feel his hand on my wrists and yet he doesn't use force to uncover my face.

We stay like this for a moment before I muster the courage to slide my hands away from my eyes and meet his.

He smiles back and that feeling comes again, the one where I feel electricity run through my body.

Like the night he kissed me.

I feel frozen in space like I'm only able to breathe and blink.

He gets closer, so close that our forehead touches and I instinctively close my eyes waiting to feel his lips on mine like that night.

He's so close and yet doesn't make a move to close the distance between us. It makes me groan internally when I remember he's probably waiting for me to make a move.

He's literally two inches away from me and I'm still here what more does he need? for me to swing a flare in the air? Scream at him at the top of my lungs to kiss me?

The tension is suffocating and it's cut short when I feel a breeze of air where I should feel him.

"Thank you, I really wanted to dance with Lea. And don't be mad, I promise, you'll get a dance too," he says cheekily as I stand there completely confused.

He's quick to hold my shoulders and push us to the side. It's when I get my senses back and see a man walk past us to access the bathroom.

I get the answer I'm looking for when I look back at him and see him smile at me.

That's when I have to hold back my laugh with him as the bathroom door closes.

Placing my hand on my mouth, I snort before I see an arm presented to me and look up to see Flash waiting for me.

With the tension now gone I happily hold his arm as he directs us away from the lonely hallway to the booming evening when we cross paths with Mme.Thompson.

"There you are!" she says joyfully.

"I was talking to a few colleagues and they were adamant that I at least ask you to join us."

I open my mouth trying to find the words to politely decline when her son beats me to it.

"No Mom I think it's time for her to go home. Her aunt will kill me if I don't drive her back before 1."

Sharing her chagrin, Mme.Thompson bids me her goodbyes before she shares a look with Flash and tells him to come back as soon as possible telling him he'll be spending time with Garret.

The end of her sentence isn't met with agreement or joy but silence as I'm ushered outside with the cold temperature that doesn't get to reach me before I feel his jacket engulf my shoulders once again.

Another gesture he makes is to offer his hand to help me walk down the stairs of the building. I pause and look down at my heels and conclude like him that it's going to be harder to step down the stairs than it was to climb them.

The thought makes me laugh to myself before I accept his hand and carefully make my way down with another set of giggles.

"I'm never borrowing heels from May ever again," I manage to let out in between giggles.

"Miss Parker forgot to calculate the probability that those heels were gonna be a problem?"

The remark takes me by surprise and makes me stumble.

I crouch to make sure I don't end up face-first on the concrete and my position makes me snort as I hide my face behind my hands and kneel in the middle of the stairs to ground myself.

From any other perspective, I look drunk and I'm being chaperoned by Harrison Thompson's son.

My laugh turns into a fit and I'm left laughing out loud, gripping my aching stomach and praying the feeling doesn't kill me.

"Okay I think I got it, sit down," he says laughing about my situation.

Lost in my euphoria I barely manage to sit up on one of the stairs waiting to see his plan to help me down.

I try to calm myself down when he stands in front of the stairs and places my hands on his shoulders. I finally understand his idea when I'm lifted in the air by my hips and grip his shoulder in a reflex as I'm left gasping when I land on the ground.

I gaze at him and his previous smile falls a bit as he stands there with a blank expression.

I'm almost sure I see his eyes switch to my lips.

"Sorry," he apologizes for his sudden plan to get me down those stairs with a small smile trying his luck at diffusing the tension.

I reassure him before he gently directs me to his car.

The silence is calming and comfortable and I notice I had never been in his car before.

I bask in the comfort, all giddy as I look outside the window admiring the city I love to swing in so much.

He chimes in with small talks here and there and in my new feeling of serenity, I mindlessly make one-word answers.

After a while of admiring the scenery, I look back inside the car when I notice him fidgeting around looking tense.

"Is everything okay?"

"Are you mad?" he asks as his hand tightens up on the steering wheel.

"No, why do you ask?" I return the question fidgeting in my seat to get more comfortable.

"I don't know, you don't talk much. Usually I can't get you to stop talking," he says scratching his face before returning his focus to the road, his side eye gauging my reaction.

I guess the comfortable silence wasn't shared and so I rattle my brain to find a topic we could discuss to fill the apparent discomfort he feels.

Trying to take the attention away from the topic of 'us', I remember the look he and McCoy shared and decide to ask hastily.

"Are you gonna reconcile with Garret?"

"Is that what you're mad about?"

"No Flash, I'm not mad. I'm just trying to make conversation since you seem to think my silence means that I'm angry."

"So you're not mad," he affirms one more time.

"No, I'm not mad."

"Cool," he finishes before he falls himself into silence.

"So? Garret?" I ask after a few beats of silence.

"Let's not talk about Garret."

"Too late, now I'm curious," I say turning on my side to give him my full attention.

"I reminded you how to dance cut me some slack," he whines.

"No," I laugh, "You taught me how to dance. I told you I didn't take dance courses."

His own laugh is short-lived, "Yes, you did."

"When?" I challenge him.

He pauses and takes a deep breath as we reach a red light, "It was during that time you moved to your Aunt May's."

The confession throws a cold in the vehicle.

"Oh," is all that manages to come out of my mouth.

"I remember," he says messing with his steering wheel waiting for the light to turn green, "You looked out of it during that time. It was what? 1st grade? 2nd grade?"

I wish he wouldn't pause in between bombs because the multiple aspects of the current situation make everything point to us being forced to look at each other.

I audibly exhale and wait for anything to come and fill the heavy silence of the car.

I even think about reaching over and turning on the radio.

"Why would we talk about my friendship with Garret?" he tries to distract from the conversation with a new topic.

"Oh, so there IS a friendship," I point out jumping on the occasion to step away from the previous topic, proud we have succeeded in shifting the subject.

In a streak of luck, the light turns green, and new chatter fills the car with a newfound lightness.

He sighs, "I don't know. Would that be a problem?"

"Why do you ask me? I don't manage your friendships."

"I don't know. I thought about just leaving that friendship behind but who knows," he says glancing at me with a teasing glint in his eyes, "If you root for him I could find it in myself to grace McCoy."

I chuckle as I change my position deciding to hug the headrest with my arm to rest my head on it.

"Sounds to me like you're afraid to choose for yourself."

He scoffs and laughs it off, "No, I'm just asking for someone else's opinion. Second opinions are important too."

It's silent as he shifts gears and I realize we're getting closer to my neighborhood.

"I thought about just ghosting him for a while. And with what happened last time, it feels like he's never gonna change," he confesses, "And maybe that's how it's supposed to end between us two."

"Ghosting?"

"Yeah, I don't think a discussion could get us anywhere useful. Garret is not the type of person to apologize anyways."

His demeanor is nonchalant but his expression shows a rare vulnerability.

"Some people just don't grow up," I barely manage to hear him mutter.

I hesitate but the observation kills me.

"That's very wise of you," I notice out loud.

He realizes I must've heard him and chuckles mostly at himself.

"I am wise," he proudly states as he turns the car again.

"That's just something Léa said," he adds.

He notices when I frown, "Believe it or not but my problems with Garret started before his attempt on your life," he jokes as he parks.

With the car now off I place my hand on his shoulder as a silent encouragement, squeezing and smiling at him before letting go of the headrest and looking out the window to see my apartment building.

I don't think much of it and open the car door to slip out of the vehicle.

"You know I'm supposed to be the one that opens the door for you, right?"

I turn my focus away from the building to see him getting out of his car, his head poking up from his car's roof.

He gets closer and stands right beside me at the bottom of the paved stairs.

He faces me and with newfound courage, I try my luck.

"Didn't you say we were going to this event as friends?"

"Opening a car door doesn't mean anything. It just says I have manners."

I hum impressed by his quick answer and see his hand already out for me to take.

Frowning, his smile turns my grimace into a bright smile when I recall the stairs incident.

I chuckle and grip his hand as he leads me up the stairs.

"See," he says as we reach the top of the stairs, "Just a gentleman."

My laugh dies down as we face each other with an awkward silence that I break when I slip his jacket off of my shoulder and hand it back to him.

He grasps it and looks down at it. He seems to hesitate before he looks back up at me clutching the fabric in his hands.

"School starts back tomorrow. See you there?" he asks.

"Yeah," I let out, my voice softer than it should be, "See you there."

I end the night with a kiss on his cheek, taking the risk of letting it last longer than it should.

The silence isn't tense or awkward and I know this time it goes for the both of us as we share a smile and I grip his shoulder squeezing it one last time.

"Good luck with McCoy."

His serene expression turns sour as he scrunchs his eyes shut and rolls his head back.

"You didn't have to bring up McCoy," he whines as I let a quick laugh escape me one last time tonight.

"Good night," I say with a smile, satisfied with how fulfilling this evening has been.

"Good night."

I let go of him and step back towards the door before I have to inevitably turn around and leave him there.

My last view of him is his figure standing right there looking back at me with a charming smile.

I'm not sure but I could swear he grazes his cheek where I kissed him goodbye in-between the smallest gap of the building's door as it shuts close.

#flash thompson imagine #flash thompson x reader #flash thompson x oc #flash thompson fanfic #flash thompson #spiderman homecoming #spiderman: no way home #spiderman far from home #spiderman: far from home #fanfic

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sparklejumpropewitch · 7 months

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Fanfic writers who make mj a lesbian purely because she's dating peter in canon, not because they actually see her as lgbt+, and don't give her any other personality traits or plot are my mortal enemy.

#marvel #michelle jones #spiderman #mj watson #parkner #peter x harley #across the spider verse #spiderman homecoming #spiderman far from home #fandom #fanfic rec #spiderman fanfiction

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klance43v3r · 1 year

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Title: I'm Scared of Heights, But I'd Fall for You

Words: 21,139

Status: 1/1

Personal rating: 103324234234/10 (im a sucker for a good spiderman au)

P.S. you need an ao3 account to access this fic

Summary:

“You’re the Spider-man,” he whispers in astonishment. “From Youtube.”

Lance slams the spider emblem on his chest, his suit deflating as it fell off of his shoulders. “I’m not!” he protests.

Hunk makes a noise where Lance knows he’s probably thinking as if. He points up. “You were on the ceiling.”

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m00nagedreamin · 3 months

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anyways so i’m brainrotting a spider man found family fic hahshshsghshsv

#fanfic #ao3 #spiderman homecoming #spiderman #peter parker #tony stark #they’re actually SO family #like it’s unreal

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donald4spiderman · 2 years

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SAY IT ON THE COUNT OF THREE

peter isn’t sure if you have a crush on him and it’s driving him insane. cue a whole lot of advice seeking, elaborate plans, and confusing romance.

mcu!peter x avenger!fem!reader

tw: mutual pining, kissing, sexual innuendos, crack because the rest of the avengers are there so obviously everyone is crazy, also this is not proofread sorry not sorry

a/n: if anyone could word count this for me pls comment it below. i am curious to know . i wrote this on the mobile app so i can’t do it. PLEASE REBLOG

masterlist

TWO YEARS AGO, WHEN TONY STARK RECRUITED YOU TO JOIN THE AVENGERS, Peter assumed not much in his life would change. He and the rest of the avengers were looking forward to having a new super-hero friend to fight evil alongside, but that’s about it. He was familiar with your success as the (somewhat controversial) vigilante named Slayer—with enhanced fighting abilities, super strength, and physical resistance to weapons. But nothing, and Peter means nothing, could’ve prepared him for meeting you person-to-person.

He remembers his first interaction with you with perfect clarity, mostly because of how utterly embarrassing it was for him. Peter has attempted to forget every detail about his horrible first impression, but it remains burned into the forefront of his mind.

The Avengers awaited your arrival impatiently, crowded near the main elevator. Tony alerted everyone that the you were headed up to meet everyone. Peter was really excited, but decided to linger behind Natasha and Wanda. He heard the ding of the elevator and the doors sliding open, but couldn’t see you over Thor and Steve as you entered the compound.

“Everyone,” Mr. Stark announced, “This is (Y/N) (Y/L/N), a.k.a Slayer.”

“Hey, guys.” you greeted. “It’s so amazing to meet all of you in person. I’m so excited to be joining The Avengers.”

Steve and Bucky were the first to welcome you. Peter could only imagine the flashy smirks and dazzling charm they were entertaining you with.

“Steve Rodgers, Captain America.”

“Bucks Barnes, Winter Soldier.”

You shook both of their hands firmly, sizing them up. “Pleasure to meet you.”

Next was Sam, who was much more friendly, offering you a hug, which you reluctantly accepted. Thor was kind and courteous, shaking your hands as well. Then, Natasha and Wanda approached you, and your smile widened, relieved to be in the company of the female avengers. Both the girls gave you hugs and compliments on your outfit.

“This is so crazy!” you gushed to the girls, “I’m so excited to be working with you two!”

“We’re beyond excited,” Wanda smiled. “We’ve always complained that there’s way too many guys living here.”

“Hey!” Bucky protested. You all laughed.

Finally, it was Peter’s turn to say hi. He was already nervous at the mere though of having to introduce himself to someone. But now that the rest of the team cleared to the side, he could see your face clearly, and suddenly, his brain stopped functioning.

Your eyes dazzled beneath the dim light of the compound, lips curled into a welcoming grin. Your hair was stunning, yet effortless. The few photos he’s seen if you in actions in the tabloids didn’t do you justice. Everything about you appeared confident, assertive, and experienced, despite you being around Peter’s age—it made him feel even more inadequate in comparison. Your strong frame was only highlighted by your classic, metallic blue suit. He couldn’t tear eyes away from you.

“Hi. I’m (Y/N),” you stuck your hand out in front of Peter, who was frozen in place, “it’s so cool to meet the real Spider-Man. I’ve always been a big fan.”

“Y-yeah,” Peter agreed in a panic, “me too!”

He heard faint chuckles (most likely from Bucky and Sam) from behind him. You giggled too, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. “You’re a big fan of yourself?”

His jaw dropped. “H-huh? W-what? No?! I just meant-I’m not-“

You interrupted his sputtering, placing a calming hand on his shoulder. “Relax, I’m just giving you a hard time, Spider-Man.”

“Peter,” he mumbled quietly, completely humiliated and somewhat defeated, “it’s Peter Parker.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Peter Parker,” you smirked, dragging your hand down his arm until it rested at your side.

“Alright!” Mr. Stark interrupted the awkward interaction, clapping his hands together. “Thank god whatever that was is finally over. Let me show you to your suite, (Y/N).”

You nodded towards Tony, turning back to smirk at Peter, “See you later.”

“S-see you, uhm, later,” he stammered, watching you walk away until you disappeared around the corner.

He could feel everyone else’s eyes on him, stifling their laughter until you were far enough away not to hear.

“What was that?!” Steve howled, cackling so hard he was gasping for air. “Have you never talked to a woman before?”

“Shut up,” Peter muttered under his breath.

“Zip it, boys,” Wanda ordered, rolling her eyes at them as they laughed, “she seemed to like him.”

“Yeah,” Natasha agreed, “I think (Y/N) was flirting with him.”

Peter’s face perked up at Natasha’s observation. We’re you really flirting with him? Is that how people flirt?

“No way,” Sam declared, “have y’all seen her? No offense, Parker, but she’s a total bombshell.”

“Like you know anything about women,” Wanda snarled, focused on comforting Peter.

He groaned dejectedly, face falling into his palms, “I really don’t know what happened! I just...shut down? I’m awkward, but i’ve never been that awkward! Oh god...”

“Trust me,” Natasha consoled, “I’ve had interactions with men a thousand times worse than that. She won’t hold it against you. Plus, she seems into the whole dorky thing you got going on. You’ll be fine.”

Peter recalls his horrible first impression daily, but Natasha and Wanda ended up being right. After your first month being on the team and living at the compound, you seemed to forget about Peter’s mishap. In fact, you approached him constantly, asking him to play games or hang out with you. Thanks to your efforts, Peter grew more comfortable around you, and the two of you became best friends.

Being best friends with you doesn’t change the fact that he’s still incredibly entranced by both your beauty and personality to the point where he makes a total fool out of himself. It doesn’t help that you have a spunky attitude, often flirting with him to make him flustered. In the two years he’s known you, Peter hasn’t been figured out if you’re into him, or just messing with him.

It’s Saturday, which means it’s “(Y/N) and Peter’s Movie Night” as you so affectionately call it. Every Saturday night, you and Peter cuddled up on the couch in one of the many living rooms with popcorn, a dozen blankets, and tissues (hey, you liked to watch some depressing movies). It’s a nice and simple break from all the training and fighting the two of you do as Avengers. Plus, it’s uninterrupted one-on-one time for Peter to spend with you.

“Alrighty,” you exclaim, jumping to sit on the couch cushion adjacent to him, “what shall we watch?”

“It’s up to you,” Peter states. “It’s not like you really give me a choice.” The last part of his sentence was mumbled beneath his breath, but you still heard it, gasping with feigned irritation.

“I see how it is,” you glare, punching him playfully in the shoulder. “Fine. Since you have so many complaints, you can actually chose the movie this time.”

“Yes!” he triumphs, snatching the remote from you, unashamedly delighted, “we are watching Mean Girls!”

“Really? Not that I’m opposed to that choice, it’s just, I did not expect you to chose that movie.”

“Why? It’s a timeless classic. Name one other movie that has quotes so prevalent decades after its release.”

You pause for a moment. “Damn., I’m coming up empty. Alright, let’s hit it.”

Peter presses play, and as the visuals fade in, you snuggle up against his side, resting your head in the crook of his shoulder. He swings his arm around your torso, pulling you in close. You hum with content.

You’re so happy Peter chose to watch Mean Girls; you’d almost forgotten how insanely funny it is. Every other moment has the both laughing so hard you cry.

“You remind me of Karen,” you say, watching as Peter’s face contorts into an offended expression.

“Excuse me?” he shrieks. “You know I’m an actual genius, right?”

“Oh, don’t be so upset. Karen is totally the funniest.”

“But she’s dumb! I’m not dumb!”

“You sure about that?” you tease.

Peter pouts, “Whatever.”

“C’mon, smarty pants. At least she’s hot, just like you,” you nudge him in his ribs as he blushes.

“Stop it,” he grumbles, “stop teasing me.”

“I’m being serious! You’re a very good-looking dude,” you give him a pointed look, “say it—say that you’re hot.”

“N-no,” Peter stutters, thrown off by your steady stream of compliments, “I-I’m not.”

“I think you are, so say it. If you don’t I’ll beat you up, Peter Parker—swear to god.”

You think he’s hot?

“Fine!” he concedes, knowing that with your powers, you could very well win against him in a fight, “I’m...hot?”

“Say it like you mean it!”

Peter takes a deep breath in before shouting at the top of his lungs, “I’m hot!!!!”

You roll your eyes, tsk-ing him in a disappointed manner as you shake your head. “Wow, Parker. Way to be arrogant. So self centered.”

His face drops, “Oh my god. You are such an ass!”

“Can you blame me?” you ask, batting your lashes at him.

“N-no. Ugh, whatever,” he glances away, nervous under your stare, “let’s just get back to watching the movie.”

This is not an uncommon occurrence: you, flirting incessantly with Peter, who can’t do much besides sputter and blush profusely. It’s one of the factors that makes his friendship with you so confusing—he can never tell if your “platonic” actions teeter towards romantic.

It also doesn’t help that you flirt with him in front of the rest of The Avengers. And while, in theory, receiving compliments from a gorgeous girl should boost his social credit, it has the opposite effect on Peter. Not only is he teased by you, he’s also teased by the rest of his team, especially Steve, Bucky, and Sam.

For example, you have an obsession with complimenting his physique. If Peter ever wears a form fitting shirt—or no shirt at all—you’re quick to shower him with somewhat objectifying comments.

You sit atop the kitchen counter, legs dangling aimlessly as you converse with Sam and Bucky. Peter just finished his morning training, hair still damp from showering. Loosely fitted basketball shorts hang low on his hips, and the only item covering his torso is a towel slung over his shoulder.

“G’morning.” Peter yawns, fetching a mug from the cabinet.

You check him out shamelessly as he stretches his body out to reach the top, “Good morning, indeed,” you leer, smiling smuggly as Peter reveals a scattered rouge on his cheeks. “How was your workout?”

“G-good.” he replies, self conscious and suddenly aware of Sam and Bucky’s presence.

“Did you lift today?”

“Yeah. I did some sparring and technique with Natasha, then went to the gym after.”

You glance down at his biceps, “I can tell. You look extra vascular today.”

Sam snickers next to you, leaning in to Bucky as he observes you ogle Peter. “Vascular?!” he exclaims, “who the hell says vascular?”

“Me, Sam. I do,” you tut, “and it’s true. Working out increasing blood flow to the muscle which promotes size and vascularity.”

“Are we talking about biceps here—or a different kind of muscle, if you know what I mean,” he wiggles his eyebrows, humored by his own joke.

You roll your eyes, “Grow up, idiots. You just wished I complimented you as much as I do Peter.”

“True, true,” Sam admits, “but that doesn’t mean it’s not funny to watch Parker get so wound up when you talk to him.”

“Whatever,” you sigh, “I have training in a few. Bye, Peter. And I’ll see you two idiots in hell.”

The three boys watch you walk away, Sam and Bucky immediately jumping at the opportunity to make fun of Peter once you leave their sights.

“You can relax. You’re girlfriend isn’t here anymore,” Bucky scoffs.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Peter huffs, glaring at him.

“She sure acts like it.”

Sam nods in agreement, “Yeah. When will the two of you just get together so the rest of us don’t have to watch you make a fool of yourself?”

“We’re just really good friends!” he exclaims, utterly frustrated. “Stop trying to make our friendship something that it’s not.”

“So you really don’t have any sort of romantic feelings for (Y/N)?” Bucky interrogates.

Peter ponders for a moment, “N-no. I don’t....right?”

He’s always harbored certain, unique feelings for you since your friendship began to bloom. He could never exactly pinpoint what they were, but Peter knows he’s never had another friendship quite like this; he’s not exactly sure how he’s supposed to feel.

Bucky bursts out laughing, “Oh my god! This is so funny! You totally have a crush on (Y/N)!”

“Shhhhh!” Peter hisses.“Could you be any louder?”

“Yes. Yes, I could,” he remarks, “but back to what you just said: you like (Y/N)—you like Slayer!”

“I don’t know, okay?” Peter’s never been more exasperated in his life, “I guess I always thought that maybe we would be good together, I don’t know? I’ve never been in a relationship before and I don’t know how girls act when they like someone. Can you guys help me?”

“Wait, you want our help?” Sam asks, face resting in a satisfied smile.

“Yes? I just need help figuring this all out. A-and you guys definitely know more about dating and all that stuff than I do. Please?”

“Can we tell Steve, Wanda, and Natasha about this?”

“Fine,” Peter carps, “but don’t tell Mr. Stark. He he gets all weird and fatherly about this kind of stuff and I don’t want him worrying.”

“That won’t be an issue,” Sam smiles, “Tony already knows.”

With Natasha and Wanda on board, the boys essentially had direct intel into your deepest, darkest thoughts about Peter Parker. It was no secret that you were the closest with the girls (and Peter). Unfortunately, according to them, you had never mentioned anything out of the ordinary.

But, the two women were not satisfied by this. So, they crafted a plan to investigate further. It’s in the name of love, and all is fair is love and war, or whatever that stupid saying is.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Natasha and Wanda whispering to each other. They periodically glance over at you, waving their hands in the air as they converse in secrecy.

Eventually, the pair approached you.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Wanda says, Natasha following closely behind. “How are you?”

“The same as when you saw me an hour ago. Why?” your lips press into a tight line, unnerved by their suspicious behavior.

She smiles nervously, “We just have a really important question to ask you.”

“Okay...”

“What’s your dream guy?”

“—or girl!” Natasha adds.

“Dream guy or girl or person—whatever,” She corrects. “What would you say are your ideal qualities in a romantic partner.”

You shrug, “I don’t know? Genuine, nice, sort of dorky and shy. I don’t really have a type.”

The two girls exchange a knowing glance with one another. “Alright. So, I’m gonna give you a person who’s totally made up and not real, and you’re gonna tell me your honest opinion about them, ‘kay?”

You’re visibly confused by their abnormal behavior, but continue nonetheless. “This is a weird ass game, but I’ll play.”

“Perfect! Okay, so this person is very sweet, super kind to everyone and always afraid of messing things up. They’re very dorky—they love nerdy movies and hobbies. They’re also physically fit, but they don’t let their appearance inflate their ego. In fact, they can be a little insecure at times. They value loyalty and intelligence, but they struggle with communication.”

Wanda hopes she wasn’t too specific. After all, Peter is your best friend. You know him better than anyone.

“They sound cool, I guess,” you sigh, “I don’t know. I’m not really in the place to date anyone right now.”

Natasha nods, “Can I ask why?”

“I kind of have...a thing...for someone else. And it wouldn’t be fair for me to date anyone until I get over them.

The girls faces perked up, “Can we know—“

“No!” you exclaim, “I will not tell you who. Okay. Bye.” you scramble out of the room, itching to get away from their incessant questioning.

“Bye, (Y/N)....” Wanda sighs, disappointed she didn’t succeed.

“So, none of us have gotten anywhere in our mission to help Peter,” Natasha huffs, stirring her cereal across the table from Steve. “I mean, we’ve tried everything. It’s been three weeks and we can’t crack her. Poor Peter.”

Steve nods his head slowly, “Let me help.”

“You wanna help? Really?”

“Yeah, why not?” he beams. “I like the kid. Plus, I’ve been a little bored recently.”

“You have any good ideas?”

Steve grins, “I do. In fact, I have a plan that just might work.”

“(Y/N)!” Steve greets you in the main living room, “are you free this Saturday?”

“Why?” you question, “you planning on killing me?”

“What? No! Just-ugh-are you free? Yes or No.”

“I think I’m free,” you say, unsure of where the conversation is going.

Steve smiles, “Perfect! You’re going on a date!”

You expression shifts. “No offense, Cap, but I don’t really see you like that and—“

“Not with me!!!” he exclaims, “I’m setting you up on a blind date. His name is Spencer. He’s an FBI agent and he’s in town for a few weeks. He’s super frickin’ smart—one of the smartest people I know. He’s six foot two with curly brown hair. I told him about you and wants to have dinner at the bistro by 5th avenue. Will you go?”

You thought to yourself for a moment, “You know what? Sure. I’ll go. He sounds nice.”

“Perfect.” Steve chuckled mischievously. “I-uh-I mean...perfect! I’ll text to let him know.”

“So,” you whip your head around to find Natasha stalking around the corner, “you’re going on a date?”

“I guess,” you shrug.

“What about the unnamed person you’re still in love with?”

“It’s not going anywhere—I don’t think it ever will. Might as well have fun and put myself out there. Plus, if the date goes bad and he’s horrible, I won’t feel bad about being a hellish nightmare and fighting him. Win-win.”

“Alright,” she smiles, “tell me if you need anything. I have a killer dress I’d think you look absolutely jaw-dropping in.”

“I don’t think I own anything besides a few T-shirts and my suit,” you laugh, “thanks, Nat.”

“The pleasure is all mine, (Y/N).”

Come Saturday evening and you were rushed to get ready. You almost forgot the dinner reservations were at 6 and spent the whole afternoon training instead.

“Nat!” you shout, hurrying to finish brushing your hair, “can I have that dress you were talking about?”

“Sure! What size?”

“What do you mean what size? Don’t you only have one size?”

“Uhhh...no,” she chuckles in embarrassment, “I may have bought the dress in every size available—just in case.”

“I really don’t have time to think about how strange that is. Just get me whatever size you think. I trust your judgement.”

“Sounds good,” she nods. “You’re gonna look so hot!”

A few moments later she bursts into your room, in her arms a silky black dress. You don’t even want to think about how expensive the item is—it looks luxurious.

“Wow, it’s gorgeous.” you say in awe of the garment.

“I know right,” she agrees, “just wait until you put it on.”

You slip into the bathroom to change. A minute later, and you’re emerging from behind the door. “What d’you think?”

You do a slow spin for Nat, her mouth hung is shock. The black, satin dress sits snuggly over your chest and waist, slightly draping away from your hips. The v-neck line accentuates your cleavage tastefully. It’s equal parts sexy and sophisticated.

“I feel dumb,” you groan, arms crossed around your torso. “I feel so exposed in this. I just wanna put on my suit.”

“Oh like that’s any less revealing,” Natasha quips. You chuckle in agreement. “If you don’t wanna wear it you don’t have to. I think you look ridiculously fucking good.”

You study your appearance in the full length mirror. Nat is right. It’s unusual for you to be wearing such a fancy dress, but that doesn’t mean you don’t look absolutely stunning. You smooth the material down, smiling.

“I like it,” you mutter, hiding your giddiness.

“I love it,” she adds, “let’s go show the boys.”

Your smile falters, but you let her drag you into the living room nonetheless. You’re confident enough not to care what anybody thinks. And you doubt your friends will have anything but praise to say.

“What do you guys think?”

Their reactions were similar to Nat’s: faces in total amazement. They’d never seen you in anything other than your suit, workout clothes, and occasionally Peter’s T-shirt.

“You look...wow,” Bucky struggles to find the right words, “why don’t you wear more stuff like this? You look great.”

You roll your eyes, “Well, I can’t exactly fight villains while wearing by this, can I?”

“I’m sure you could,” Sam voices, earring a wave of laughter from the group. “Seriously, though. You’re a very gorgeous woman—through and through.”

“Stop it,” you groan, trying to hardest not to blush under their stares.

The chatter dies down momentarily, but just then, Peter enters, a slice of pepperoni pizza in his hand.

“What’s going on?” he asks, eyes scanning over the crowd until they land on you.

His entire world stops spinning when he takes in your appearance. Peter is enamored by your beauty 24/7, but seeing you so dressed up makes his heart beat a thousand miles a minute. You fiddle with the ring around your middle finger.

“Hey, Parker,” you smile sheepishly.

“H-hey,” he stammers, “why are you all d-dressed up.”

“Oh, um...”

“(Y/N) has a date.,” Wanda announces, causing Peter’s face to fall.

“What?” This is not what he hand in mind when the rest of The Avengers agreed to help him figure out your feelings. “With who?”

“Steve’s friend, Spencer,” you state, “which reminds me, I should get going,” you grab your bag, checking your hair and makeup in the mirror once more before waving to your friends.

“What about movie night?” Peter asks dejectedly.

You frown, “Sorry, Parker. We can reschedule. I’ll see you guys later.”

The elevator doors shut and Peter just loses it. He’s throwing his hands in the air in protest, pizza flying across the room. First of all, you’re going on a date with someone that’s not him. Secondly, you’re skipping out on movie night—the tradition that you started with him. Peter’s heartbroken and pissed all at once.

“What the fuck?!” he shouts. “Steve—what the fuck?” Peter never swears, so it throws everyone off guard. “You know I’m basically in love with (Y/N). You guys were supposed to help me. Not sabotage me!”

“Well,” Natasha chided, “it’s been almost a month and we’ve made no progress. The best way to figure out how she feels about you is to set her up with someone else. If she love with you, she’ll come running back.”

Peter glances up from beneath his lashes, “And if she doesn’t...” The room falls quiet.

“This is-this is a mistake. I need to go after her!” he knew how cliche it sounds: a boy chasing after a girl he’s been pining for after years, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t let you go on that date with whatever his name is. Sean? Steven? Slater? Whatever! “Where is her date.”

“Bistro on fifth,” Sam states. Wanda slaps him on the shoulder. “What? I want them to be together, sue me.”

Peter thanked Sam, rushing out the room and into the elevator in his pajamas without a second though.

“He’s so easy,” Steve smirked. Things were going according to plan.

The rest of the team celebrated their current success, hopeful that the two of you will be together by the end of the night. It’s up to you and fate to ensure that what’s meant to be is meant to be.

Even with his enhanced strength and stamina, the run to the Italian bistro is hard. Peter’s not as in shape as in shape as he thought, but his exhaustion would never be enough to stop him from ruining your date with Spencer.

After what felt like hours of sprinting down New York sidewalks, he arrived outside the restaurant. He could see you being escorted to your table by the hostess. Spencer isn’t here yet—there’s still has time to confess his feelings.

He storms through the doors of the restaurant, starting a few diners and a waitress.

“Sir, you can’t just—“ the poor waitress attempt to stop him are futile. “I’m sorry, this is really important.”

He rushes to the back of the restaurant where you’re seated, casually sipping your water and skimming the menu.

“(Y/N)!” Peter shrieks, shattering the peaceful ambience of the establishment. “I need to talk to you.”

“Peter!” you gasp, completely shocked and somewhat embarrassed that your best friend showed up unannounced. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

He babbles unintelligibly, “I-uh-ah-um...I don’t-uhhhhhh....”

“Is there an emergency?”

He shakes his head, “No no no no. No emergency. Everything is fine—great!”

“Okay....so why are you here then?”

“Well,” he sighs, “everything isn’t actually great. Can I talk to you somewhere private?”

“I’m suppose to be on a date, Parker,” you deadpan. “Spencer’s gonna show up any minute now.”

“That’s the problem.”

“What? Spencer?”

“Yes. Not like him specifically, but the fact that you’re on a date,” he murmurs.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Peter figures this is the closest he’ll ever get to the right moment to confess his feelings for you. He can’t back out now.

“I like you,” he furrows his brows, shaking his head, “no—that’s a lie—i’m in love with you, (Y/N). I’ve been in love with you since the moment I met you, I just didn’t know. But everyone else helped me realize that I want to be more than your best friend.”

“Peter—“

“And I’m sorry i’m doing this to you while you’re waiting for your date. I know it’s selfish and you’d probably rather date Spencer than me, but I just wanted you to know because I don’t like keeping secrets from people I love. So, I’m in love with you. That’s how I feel. How do you feel...about me?”

Peter waits anxiously, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. His adrenaline lessens, and he realizes how out of place he must look in a Star Wars T-shirt and plaid pajama pants in the middle of an expensive restaurants. You don’t seem to mind that he’s not aligned with the dress code. You tilt your chin up, flashing him a bright smile.

“I love you, too—I’m in love with you, too,” you admit, standing up form your seat at the table, throwing your napkin down in a finite motion. “I’ve been in love with you. I only agreed to go on this stupid date because I was trying to get over you.”

“W-wait,” he sputters, gears in his mind struggling to turn, “you were trying to get over me? Couldn’t you see that I was in love with you? I was like a dog—a puppy! I’m so nervous around you all the time; you’re telling me you didn’t notice?”

“I mean, I knew you got all flustered when I flirted with you, but I just thoughts it was because you were awkward or something. I don’t know. I don’t jump to conclusions.”

“Well, you should’ve,” you glare at him, “but that’s besides the point. I am so freaking happy. Oh my god, I can’t believe this is my life. This is real!” he jumps up and down, attracting the attention of the families and couples at nearby tables.

You smile apologetically at them. “Peter, we should leave so we can talk.”

“Yes! Great idea. I love you!” he rambles, gripping your waist tightly as you guide him out of the restaurant. “Wait, what about Spencer?”

You scoff, stepping outside into the frigid New York air. “Oh? Since when did you care about Spencer?”

“I don’t,” Pete states matter-of-factly, “I just want to hear you say that you’re in love with me and not him.”

“Of course I’m not in love with him; I’ve never even met him before!”

“Say it,” he pouts, “please? You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear it.”

You blush, hoping that the dim street lighting conceals your bashfulness. “I love you, Peter Parker. I’ve always been in love with you.”

“I’m the luckiest guy in the whole world,” he whispers, eyes glassy and heart thumping beneath his chest.

He glances down at your lips, quickly looking back up. You smirk, noticing the way his cheeks flush with color.

“I’m going to kiss you, okay. Can you handle that? Or will you like...shut down or like die or something?” you tease, delicate hand stroking his cheekbone.

“Yes! Please!” he yelps with anticipation, “I will be okay, I promise.”

Using the hand on his face, and the other behind his neck, you yank him towards you will volition, pressing your lips against his. He taste like pizza and diet sprite—a weirdly endearing combination that would surely gross you out if it was anyone else. He stiffens, as to be expected, before melting into you, hand caressing your waist.

You pull away, panting heavily. Peter’s eyes flutter open, and his hand comes up to touch his swollen lips. You giggle and he smiles—you can’t stop smiling either—you’re cheeks hurt so much. You’ve never been happier.

“Should we head back?” you suggest, lacing your fingers with his.

“Yes. I didn’t swing here though, so it’s gonna be a long walk.”

You shrug, “That’s okay. We have a lot of things to talk about.”

Two hours later, you and Peter return to the compound. You ended up walking around the park and getting ice cream, enjoying your time with one another now that you know your feelings are reciprocated. When the elevators open up the living room, you both expect to find the rest of the team relaxing in their respective rooms, but you find them congregated in the couch and table, right where you left them.

“Did we miss a meeting?” you ask, setting your bag down on the counter. Everyone glances down at your intertwined hands with wide eyes. You quickly go to shake off Peter’s hand, but be grips you firmly.

“So,” Steve starts, “how was your date with Spencer?”

“Well,” you grimace, “here’s the thing—“

“We kissed!” Peter blurts out. You slap your hand over his mouth and he grumbles.

“Peter!” you bite. He doesn’t seem to care.

The rest of the team looks ecstatic. They whoop and cheer and clap for you and Peter like an audience at a Broadway play.

“We are so happy for you two!” Sam rejoices, wrapping the two of you into a big hug. “I always knew you would end up together. I am just so smart, it really amazes me every time.”

“Thank you?”

“You’re so welcome,” he says smuggly.

Wanda and Natasha smile so wide their eyes crinkle. “Awwwww,” the coo in unison.

“Wait, why are you guys all celebrating?�� you question. “Weren’t you all just trying to set me up with Spencer?”

Steve bites his lip, “Well...”

The realization suddenly dawns on you—they planned this. “You bastards!” you exclaim, “you altered my fate! How dare you!”

“What?!” Steve raises his hands up defensively. “Peter was trying so hard to figure out how to deal with his feelings, and the two of you were going absolutely nowhere. I mean, it was almost painful to watch,” you glare at him, “so, we gave him the push he needed to just come out and say it.”

Peter guffaws, “You guys are evil geniuses. But thank you thank you thank you for tricking me into telling (Y/N) I love her. You’re all the best and I owe you my life.”

“Yeah, thank you, all of you, even the ones of you that are idiots,” you give a pointed look to Sam and Bucky. “I just feel bad for Spencer. The whole point was just to set me up with Peter, so he was set up for failure.”

“Actually,” Tony tuts as he rounds the corner and into the living room, “Spencer doesn’t exist.”

“What?” you gasp.

He nods, “We set you up on a real date with a fake person. (Y/N), his name was Spencer. He’s a genius that works for the FBI who’s six foot two...”

“Oh my god!” your face falls into your hands, “You guys convinced me I was going on a date with Spencer Reid! From Criminal Minds! How did I not realize?”

“I don’t know?” Steve says, “but you fell for it, thank god. Now you and Peter can be madly in love and irritate the rest of us with your PDA.”

“Ew,” you groan, “we aren’t one of those couples.”

Bucky points to the way you and Peter are standing: holding hands with his head settling into the crook of your neck.

Peter blushes, “Sorry! I’m just...really happy, okay? Leave us alone.”

“Fine,” he concedes, “just be quiet when you two do your business, if you know what I mean.”

“B-business? We-uh-huh-I mean—“

“What Peter’s means to say is shut up and be quiet,”you smirk. “But don’t worry, we won’t be too loud.” A chorus of ooohs erupt from your friends.

“Bleh! You two are already gross.” Tony mutters with feigned disgust. “But, for what it’s worth, I’m really glad you’re together now.”

“Yeah,” Peter says, squeezing you into his side. “Me too.”

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iridescentparkers · 1 month

Text

lavender haze •.˚⚘ ⋆.*.ゞ

a/n - i thought this was so funny as i was doing this exact thing! no warnings just fluff.

“INFUSED WITH LAVENDER AND CHAMOMILE,” Peter announced in your bathroom, reading the container of your eye gel patches you used before bed each night. “Whatever, these don’t work.”

“Who told you that?” you giggled, using the jade roller to set them on your face as you looked at Peter in the bathroom mirror.

“Science,” he said confidently, looking at you in the bathroom mirror. “Companies try to fool you with big words and cutesy smells.”

“Well, these big words and cutesy smells make my eyes less puffy and relax me before bed.” You laughed.

“You don’t even need this dumb stuff,” he informed, dropping the packaging. “You already look stunning.”

He stood at your side and wrapped his hand along your waist as he peppered kisses around your face before nuzzling into your neck, “I’m going to get some sleep, and you should start investing in some real sleep remedies.”

AFTER A LATE NIGHT, you dragged the balls of your high heels to your apartment door, opening it before throwing down your painfully cheap heels that needed to be trashed.

You were still sober despite the rampant club scene you left and trembling at your bedroom door.

Swinging the door open, Peter was sleeping deeply on his side of your bed. His suit was still halfway on, and he had barely made it under the covers. He was lying on his stomach, his cheek squished into the pillows, and his mouth hung slightly open.

Giggling to yourself, you sat next to him, rubbing a hand on his back to let him know you were home. Mid circle, you stopped, looking at the bright purple stripes underneath his eyes.

“What are these,” you whispered, tapping the two lavender stripes.

He didn’t move but spoke up softly, “Fine, you were right.”

“About?” You asked sarcastically, pursing your lips upwards as his eyes remained shut.

“I got home at 12 and was headed to bed before I saw them lying on the sink.” He began, opening his eyes and wiping the slight drool before he came to a seated position. “I put these on just to test them out, and I guess.. I passed out.”

He gestured towards the eye patches, and you giggled at his frown accompanied by his tired expression. “It’s just the lavender smell, I swear.”

You kissed his cheek before moving to your bathroom, “Maybe, just this once, science was wrong after all.”

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clo-thespin · 5 months

Link

Chapters: 10/? Fandom: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb), Spider-Man (Movies - Raimi), Spider-Man: Spider-Verse (Sony Animated Movies), Uncharted (Movie 2022) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Michelle Jones & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Peter-Two & Peter-Three (Spider-Man: No Way Home), Miles Morales & Peter-Three (Spider-Man: No Way Home), Aunt May Parker & Peter Parker, Happy Hogan & May Parker (Spider-Man), Miles Morales & Peter B. Parker Characters: Peter Parker, Nathan Drake, Miles Morales, Aunt May Parker (Marvel), Tony Stark, Ned Leeds, Michelle Jones (Marvel), Happy Hogan, Peter-Two (Spider-Man: No Way Home), Peter-Three (Spider-Man: No Way Home), Peter B. Parker (Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse) Additional Tags: Multiverse, Characters React to Fandom, Bisexual Miles Morales, Bisexual Peter-Three (Spider-Man: No Way Home), Bisexual Peter Parker, Bisexual Nathan Drake, none of these people are getting together, there are just subtle hints to their sexualities, Dead Aunt May Parker (Marvel), but she's alive?, Good Friend Ned Leeds, Worried Happy Hogan, Protective Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Has Panic Attacks, Peter Parker has PTSD, Worried Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has PTSD, Spidey Sense (Marvel), nathan drake and peter parker act like brothers, Parental Peter B. Parker (Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse) Series: Part 3 of Spider-Man characters react to media!! Summary:

All three Peters, Miles Morales, and Happy Hogan join the group and everyone watches Homecoming.

chapter 10

this chapter focuses on miles

#fanfic #ao3 fanfic #marvel #spiderman #miles morales #peter b parker #spiderverse #characters watch shit #spider-man: homecoming deleted scene

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justsomerandomfanfic · 2 years

Text

Forgive And Churro - Peter Parker X Female Reader

Title: Forgive And Churro

Peter Parker X Female Reader

Additional Characters: A mugger

| Part 1 |

WC: 735

Warnings: Reader almost gets mugged, knife, Peter saves the day, slight angst, and fluff

Wiping your eyes, you hugged yourself as you walked down the cold street. Shaking your head, you shuddered, looking briefly at the night sky, before looking forward again. Suddenly, something or someone grabbed your arm, pulling you into an alleyway.

"Stay still, and you won't get hurt," a man growled, and you looked up at him, seeing he was holding a knife at your throat.

You gasped, trying to free yourself from his grip. The man chuckled, "Don't worry. I just want your money. Now, hand it over." The man demanded, and you flinched when he pressed the knife harder against your skin.

"Please... No... I don't have money." You whimpered, and the man huffed.

"Yes, you do."

"I'm a high schooler. I can't even work yet." You whimpered, and the man smirked but he was cut off before he could say anything else.

"That's not very nice, pulling a knife on a young lady." A voice from above spoke.

Dropping down, Spiderman shot a web onto the mugger's hand, pulling him away from you.

Spiderman frowned at the man who was struggling against the webbing, "Hey! Stop moving." He exclaimed, before pinning the man to the wall with his webs. "The police will be here soon for you." He spoke, pointing to the man.

Turning to you, he placed a hand around your waist and shot a web up, pulling you up into the air. Wrapping your arms around Peter's neck, you hold on tight as you shut your eyes; feeling the air whip past your face. Soon enough, you finally felt the ground underneath your feet.

"Are you alright, Y/N? You're not hurt, right?" Peter asked, and you quickly let go of Peter as if he was a burning flame.

You turned to look at Peter, and you gave him a nod, "I'm fine. Thank you for saving me."

"Are you sure?" Peter asked, and you nodded your head.

"Are you really stalking me?" You asked, and Peter pulled off his mask, with furrowed eyebrows.

"What?" He laughed awkwardly, "What do you mean?"

You huffed, rolling your eyes as you crossed your arms. "You saved me pretty quick. You would've gotten to me if you weren't following me."

Peter sighed, "Spidey sense. I felt like something was wrong so... Yes, I did follow you." Peter confessed, and you rolled your eyes at him.

"Whatever. I'm going home."

Peter frantically shook his head, grabbing your hand in his. "Wait, Y/N. I want to say this is all my fault."

You sighed, "I'm listening..." You hesitated.

"I should've told you. I wanted to tell you, but..." Peter looked down, "But I thought you wouldn't believe me. That you'd laugh at me or call me crazy." Peter spoke, and you pursed your lips together.

"So, you thought I would've made fun of you? Really, Peter?" You asked, and Peter shook his head.

"No, no. I was afraid of what might happen. So I kept it a secret from everyone. Well, I tried." Peter admitted, "But, I know now that I should've told you... It was wrong of me to hide this from you." Peter continued, and you nodded your head.

"Thank you, Peter." You mumbled, and Peter smiled sadly.

"Y/N, I'm sorry for making you cry," Peter murmured, and you chuckled, taking his face gently between your hands.

"It's okay, Peter. I'll forgive you. Just promise me you won't do it again. No more hiding secret superhero stuff." You asked, and Peter nodded his head.

"I promise. I swear." Peter mumbled, and you smiled softly before kissing him softly on the lips.

Peter's eyes widened before he wrapped his arms around you tightly. You smiled, snuggling into his warm body.

"What else have you been hiding from me?" You asked, and he cocked his head to the side.

"I'm sorry?" Peter questioned, and you smacked him playfully on the chest.

"Come on, Peter. Spill the beans." You teased, and Peter winced.

"There's nothing else to tell..." Peter muttered, and you huffed, "Oh, come on!" You complained, and Peter frowned.

"I'm serious." Peter mumbled, "Nothing else."

You sighed, "Fine... Next time we hang out, you owe me a churro."

Peter narrowed his eyes at you, and you rolled your eyes, "Okay, okay. Two churros."

Peter chuckled, "Alright, Y/N."

You giggled, "I love you, Peter Parker."

Peter blushed, "I... I... I love you too."

#peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x female reader #peter parker x reader #fluff #cute #slight angst #marvel mcu #mcu #the avengers #peter parker #spider man #no way home #spiderman no way home #spiderman homecoming #x reader #fanfic #part 2 #x female reader

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lnfours · 1 year

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sideline (one) | t.h

summary -> tom holland: the name thats always floating around campus, and for good reason. he’s the captain of the hockey team, he’s good looking, and he’s always caught up in an off and on again relationship with the president of the sorority. that’s where you come in. you two had made a deal to make your exes jealous, but we all know how fake relationships end.

wc -> an introductory 3.1k :)

warnings -> mentions of being cheated on, drinking, and language.

🎵 spotify playlist | 📖 prev/next chapter | 📂 masterlist

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

summer had gone by in a blink of an eye, and before you knew it, it was fall. the start of junior year, the second to last year of your college education. the year where almost everyone starts to realize ‘oh, this shit is real’ and really whip themselves into shape.

you had gotten back to your off campus house before your two other roommates. you had met the two other girls you now call best friends during your freshman year. there was sarah, who was your roommate your first year, and mia, who was your neighbor in the dorms.

you enjoyed being the first one to the house. you could move in your stuff peacefully without having the other girl’s stuff in the way. plus, you could play music as loud as you wanted to. that is, with the exception of the open window and the other students looking up towards your room whenever they walked by.

and of course, just like it was last year, once the others girls arrived: chaos ensued.

“oh my god, the hockey team is throwing a party tonight,” mia practically yelled from the kitchen, “we have to go!”

mia was the wild child, the party animal out of the three of you. sarah was a lot more like you, someone who would rather stay at home and watch a good movie than go out to a party. however, over the past couple semesters, mia has gotten you more out of your shell.

which she may or may not take a little for granted on some occasions.

you shook your head, “hell no.”

“why not?” she frowned. you rolled your eyes.

“because if the hockey team is throwing a party then you know, about 99.9% of the time, taylor and her posse are gonna be there.”

taylor harrison, the president of the sorority and the literal definition of daddy’s money. she's the type of girl who gets what she wants when she wants it, and if she doesn't then all hell brakes loose.

it didn't help that she was the girl every guy had their eye on. the girl, that for some reason, every girl wanted to be approved by her and be her friend. you couldn't understand why someone would want to get sucked into her toxic, little circle.

“besides,” you shrugged, “jack and i have plans.”

the two other girls sent you playful looks, “plans?”

“oh, shut up.”

jack had been your boyfriend since the beginning of last year. the two of you were in the same class, he sat next to you and the rest is history. it was cliche and something that happens to everyone, but you could tell that it was different with him.

“well then,” mia sighed, looking over at sarah, “i guess you’re forced into going to the party this time.”

sarah groaned, “seriously? there’s a new episode of drag race i need to watch.”

mia gave her a look, “i’ll buy you coffee for a week.”

sarah rolled her eyes before looking back over at you, watching as you slowly backed away from the conversation, “you owe me.”

you laughed, hand on the knob to the front door, “sorry! gotta go!”

you quickly left the house before you were convinced to skip out on jack and go to the party too. you made your way towards the campus apartment buildings, giving small smiles to a couple of the familiar faces that passed you. you had made your way through the group of people in the quad, going inside the building and heading for the stairs.

you reached his apartment door and knocked, but there was no answer. you waited a couple seconds as you heard shuffling from the other side of the door.

you knocked again, “jack?”

with no answer yet again, you reached for the door knob and turned it slowly, but you wish you hadn’t. you watched as a red headed girl held her shirt up, covering her chest and as jack froze in place in front of the door, shirtless with hickeys littering his collarbone.

you didn't know what to say, or how to react as the girl turned around and put her shirt on.

“y/n, baby, this isn’t what it looks like-“

you cut him off with a hard slap across his face. the red headed girl gasped quietly. you sent her a look.

“don’t you have somewhere to be?”

she gathered her things quickly before talking to jack before she pushed past you, “i’ll call you?”

he didn’t answer her, just stood there looking at you. you watched her leave as she quickly made her way towards the staircase at the end of the hall, disappearing behind other people.

“how could you?” you asked, your voice breaking as tears threatened to spill over your eyes.

“i’m sorry-“

“don't,” you mumbled, “we’re done.”

he watched as you turned away from him, walking towards the stairs. you ignored his calls to come back as tears spilled out of your eyes and onto the tile of the hallway.

you took out your phone, sending a text to the groupchat with mia and sarah.

y/n change of plans, not going to jacks. you guys at the party yet?

sarah unfortunately what happened with jack?

y/n ill explain when i get there

mia YAY Y/NS COMING TO THE PARTY!!!

you locked your phone, shoving it into the back pocket of your jeans as you made your way towards the house party. most of the guys on the hockey team had done the same thing as you and your friends, they had decided to share a house off campus. it was the hotspot for all the parties and they were known to throw the best of them.

you walked up the path, people sitting outside with drinks in their hands as music boomed from inside the house. you made your way through the door, looking for sarah and mia, but they were nowhere to be found.

you sighed, making your way to the kitchen instead. you went through the different alcohols and mixed up some kind of concoction into your cup, gulping it down before reaching for another alcohol. you poured a heavy amount, someone walking into the kitchen and coming up next to you, grabbing a can of soda.

“damn, rough day?”

you instantly knew that accent. tom holland. the captain of the hockey team, the hottest guy on campus.

and taylor harrington’s boyfriend. or ex boyfriend. it really depended on how she felt that day.

“you could say that.”

he watched as you mixed the vodka with a can of soda. you didn’t tense at his gaze, didn’t immediately want to keep his interest. but something about you made his eyes linger a little longer than he would’ve done with anyone else.

“you alright?” he asked, still watching as you sipped the drink from your cup. you made eye contact this time, nodding as you swallowed.

“not really, but it’s not like you necessarily care, right?”

you didn’t mean to sound like an ass, but you really didn’t want to deal with taylor’s bitching if she saw you talking to tom. you were pretty sure that if she were to say something to you right now, you’d rip the overpriced extensions out of her bleach blonde head.

“i mean if you’re upset about something, i think it’s best if you talk about it. especially ‘cause it looks like you’ve been crying.”

why's he so nice?

“and what? talk to you about my problems? no thanks.”

he shrugged, leaning against the counter, “can’t say i didn’t try.”

you took another sip before looking back at him. you didn’t mean for your eyes to linger around his jawline, but god he was hot. any girl, or guy, would say the same thing. he was easy on the eyes, extremely good at his sport and he got near perfect grades. he literally checked all the boxes.

that’s when you noticed something was missing, “where’s your barbie girlfriend and her minions?”

he laughed, “not a clue, could care less to be honest with you.”

you raised an eyebrow, “what? did she break up with you for the 30th time today because you didn’t get her a chanel bag?”

he smiled, “nah, i broke up with her. caught her sleeping with this other guy.”

your eyes widened, mentally cursing yourself for being such a dick, “oh, uhm- i’m sorry.”

“no, it’s okay-“

“it’s not, because i know what it feels like,” you said, your eyes meeting his brown ones, “it sucks.”

“how long ago, if you don’t mind me asking?”

you looked down at your phone, glancing at the time, “about forty-five minutes ago.”

his eyes widened softly, “shit, i’m sorry.”

you shrugged, “what can you do, right?”

he nodded, “suppose you’re right.”

it was quiet for a couple seconds before he spoke up again, “is there a part of you that kinda wants them to be jealous? like see you with someone else and be like ‘damn, i shouldn’t have fucked that up’? or is it just me?”

you thought about it for a second. thought about the look on jack’s face if he were to see you with someone else, if he would even react. you thought about rubbing it into his face that you found someone better, someone who would never betray your trust.

“yeah,” you nodded, “now that you mention it.”

your conversion was interrupted when mia and sarah made their way into the kitchen, “y/n! there you are!”

you smiled at sarah, clearly seeing a very drunk mia.

“hey,” sarah said, “so what happened with jack?”

“it’s a long story, i’ll explain later,” you said, grabbing the bottle of tequila out of mia’s hands, “let’s put that down, yeah?”

“but ‘m not even drunk!” you were surprised you were able to make out the sentence from how slurred her words were.

you chuckled, “trust me, you are,” you looked over at sarah, “we should head back to the house.”

she nodded back at you, agreeing. tom spoke up once again, “hey, i could give you guys a ride back to your house.”

you waved him off, smiling politely, “no, it’s okay. it’s not that far of a walk.”

“no, no, i insist,” he said, fishing his keys out of his pocket, “just tell me how to get there.”

you looked at him, “you’re sober?”

“yeah,” he said, “i don’t really drink.”

you nodded to him, knowing he wouldn’t take no for an answer. you let sarah and mia walk in front of you, tom on your left. he walked up to a group of guys that you assumed to be his house and teammates.

“hey, i’ll be back in a little.”

“sounds good, man.”

he nodded towards the door, placing his hand on the small of your back to lead you through the crowd. as you pushed through with tom following behind, you noticed the looks that got thrown your way.

of course everyone’s eyes were on you, you were walking with tom holland, who had his hand on your back. of course it looked a little bit conspicuous to anyone who was watching.

once you were outside, he unlocked the audi that was sitting in the driveway, mia and sarah filing into the backseat as you climbed into the passenger side.

“so, where to, ladies?”

“we’re on lincoln, in one of the off campus houses.” sarah said, letting mia lean her head on her shoulder.

he nodded, putting the car in reverse. the music softly playing from the speakers as you found yourself staring out the window, losing yourself in thought as tom made small conversation with sarah in the back.

“hey,” his voice directed towards you as it pulled you out of your train of thought, “you alright?”

you looked over at him, sending him a tight lipped smile and a nod, “yeah.”

“you sure?” he looked back over at you before looking at the road in front of him, “you’re not a very good liar.”

you sighed, “just thinking about what you mentioned earlier, you know the whole ‘making my shitty ex jealous’ thing.”

he nodded, “yeah, it’s just the coming up with something that would bother them that’s the hard part.”

you nodded in agreement, looking back out the window. you started thinking of ways that you could make it look like you were doing so much better than jack, something that would instantly make him regret cheating on you.

that’s when it hit you.

“a fake relationship!” you said, tom’s attention turning back to you.

his eyebrows were furrowed, “what?”

“you know, get into a fake relationship with someone. you go out and pretend that the two of you are dating, the other person would obviously know it’s fake, and the both of you could benefit from the ‘relationship’. the best thing about it is that no one else would know you're not together, only the two of you.”

he nodded, “doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”

“of course it doesn’t, because i came up with it,” you smirked, “and i’m the mastermind.”

he let out a chuckle as you pointed to your house, telling him he could just pull up in front of it. he did as you had asked, pulling in front of the house and unlocking the doors so the three of you could get out.

“thanks for the ride, tom!” sarah smiled, helping mia out of the car as she led her towards the house.

“anytime.”

you watched your roommates from where you were standing by the open car door. once you saw they were inside, you looked back at him.

“thanks for letting me vent,” you smiled, “and for the ride, too,” you tucked a piece of hair behind your hair as the wind softly blew it in front of your face, "you know, she really ruined your reputation."

he smiled from the drivers side, “i’ve heard that more than you think.”

you smiled back, “thanks again.”

“always.”

you closed the door to the car softly, making your way to the front door. you had noticed he stayed in the car, making sure you made it to the door okay. you sent him a small wave as you closed the door, locking it and turning off the outside light.

you leaned up against the wooden frame, looking back at your grinning roommates, “what?”

“tom freaking holland just drove us home because of you!” mia said, “how did that even happen?!”

you rolled your eyes, “nothing happened. nothings happening, okay? we’re just in the same situation.”

“oh, yeah,” sarah said as you made your way into the kitchen, “what happened with jack?”

you took a deep breath as you grabbed a water bottle, the two girls anxiously waiting for you to tell them why you were so upset.

“i uh, i went over to his apartment and he was fucking another girl,” you said, both of their mouths dropping open, “and i broke up with him.”

“i’m so sorry,” mia said, “he didn’t deserve you.”

“what a dick!” sarah rolled her eyes, both of the girls walking over and wrapping you in a group hug, “we love you.”

you smiled, “i love you guys.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“what, so are they broken up or are they dating still?” you asked, watching whatever reality show sarah had put on the living room tv. she shrugged her shoulders.

“not really sure.”

“if i was her, i’d break up with him.” mia said from her side of the couch. sarah nodded her head, pointing at her as a silent way of saying she made a point.

there was a knock on the door, pulling all of you away from the show. you got up from your seat, putting your drink down, “i got it.”

you walked over to the front door, unlocking it as you peeked open the door. you opened it the rest of the way as you smiled at the brunette boy in front of you.

“stalker much?” you joked and he let out a soft laugh.

“hello to you, too,” he joked back at you, “do you have a minute? i uh... have to talk to you about something.”

you nodded, letting him inside the house. sarah and mia watched from the living room, eyebrows raised as you shut the door.

“hey, tom!”

he smiled back at the girls in the living room, sending them a small wave as they sent you a look. you waved your hand in front of your neck, telling them to cut it out.

“we’re going upstairs.” you grabbed tom’s arm, pulling him away from the looks your friends were sending. he followed you up the wooden steps and into your room. he looked around at your room as you closed the door.

you sat cris-cross on the bed, waving towards the desk chair and the bed, “you can sit wherever.”

he nodded, opting for the desk chair, “thanks.”

you sent him a soft smile, “so, what’s up?”

“so, i’ve been thinking about what you said in the car last night, the whole ‘fake dating’ thing,” he started, taking a pause to make sure you understood what he was talking about. when you nodded, he continued, “what if we 'fake-dated' each other? i mean, i know it’s kind of crazy beings we barely know each other, but you said it’s better to choose someone who knows it’s fake and someone who could also benefit from it. plus, you said you wanted to make your ex jealous too. you check all of the boxes.”

you raised an eyebrow, “i… i uh-“

“i know, i'm sorry to just kind of throw it all onto you at once, but i’ve been thinking about it since last night. i mean, you are the mastermind, right?” he smirked and you rolled your eyes playfully.

at the end of the day, how bad could it be?

“what if i say no?”

he was silent for a second, “i didn’t really think you’d be opposed.”

you let out a sigh, why am i doing this?

“okay, fine, you have a deal,” you extended your hand out for him to shake, when he reached for it, you pulled your hand back. he shot you a confused look.

“however, we’re doing it by my rules.”

he shook your hand, “deal.”

you pointed to the notepad and the pen on your desk, “can you hand me that, please?”

he nodded, grabbing the paper and pen off the desk. you turned to a blank page, writing at the top of the page.

fake dating rules:

“okay, number one,” you said, tapping the pen against the notebook as you thought about the first rule. when it came to your mind, you immediately started writing it down, “no strings attached. this is simply just to get back at our shitty exes.”

he nodded, “oh, you have to come to my games and the hockey team parties. gotta make it look like you’re an actual supportive girlfriend.”

"the games i'm alright with, but the parties?" you scrunched your face up. he gave you a look, but softened when he came to an agreement.

"okay, not all of them, but most of them."

you rolled your eyes, "fine."

you wrote down what he said as rule number two, “anything else?”

“one ‘date’ per week. we get to know more about each other so it doesn’t seem suspicious to anyone we talk to about our ‘relationship’.”

you wrote it down, adding the last rule in all capital letters and underlined it, “no one knows it’s a fake relationship. absolutely no one.”

he nodded in agreement, watching as you made makeshift signature lines. you passed him the notebook as he let out a soft laugh, taking the pen from your grip. he signed on his line, your signature going next to his.

“so it’s settled, girlfriend.” you smiled, “it’s settled, boyfriend.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

💌 beings my tagged list has gotten so long that tumblr literally won't let me add it, the tagged list is temporarily closed until i can figure it out. in the meantime, be sure to follow and turn on notifications for @toms-gf to be notified whenever i post imagines :)

xoxo, jordan

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